Life and Times of a Priestess: Ch.6: The Priestess Meets Another General (Part 2: Ravelleon -Section 1)

Chapter 6 : The Priestess Meets Another General

Part 2 : Ravelleon

Section 1

 

    The building she entered was an old one, probably made centuries before, used to house groups of people in small dormitory rooms.  The previous occupants might have been a group of families who had chosen to live together, or groups of female or male workers unpartnered.  The General had chosen it probably for the size of its rooms, which he could use as offices, and the number of them.  Other officers and clerks would work here, usually only during the day, she suspected as the place seemed mainly empty this evening.

 

     The guard showed her through the hallway, decked out magnificently in what must be the taste of Prancir.  The offices had been newly wallpapered, further evidence of the Prancirianisation of Dalos and the declared intention of the conquerors to remain here permanently.  On the sides of the hallway and the staircase she ascended were pictures of what she assumed must be the latest styles of Prancir, blurred paintings of restful country and city scenes, gentle portraits of attractive women and men.  She had no time to look closely but she was given a renewed interest in Prancir and its culture.  She knew much already about its soldiers, variously arrogant and meek, unused to the rich sexual life the Priestesses had to offer, but desperate for it.  Many of them were good people, she could see, forced into unnatural but nonetheless exciting circumstances.  There was an emptiness and a loneliness about them which few in Pirion displayed, but glimpses of the culture they came from revealed arts and glories many of which Pirion could not boast.

 

     The guard ushered her straight into an upstairs room where the General sat waiting for her.  She had half expected him to be working on some letter or giving order, but no, he had set aside this evening to relax and was waiting in his armchair, dressed still of course, in his uniform.  She had no time to take in the details of the room but it was not an officer, more a room with comfortable chairs to relax in.  To one side, near the window, its curtains drawn was a table set for two, candles lit, the places facing each other.

 

    “Danella, it is good to see you,” he said. “You look very beautiful, and the dress,” rising to take her hand.  Softly he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it, his eyes looking straight into hers.  The physical touch of him put her at ease, making the situation more familiar to her.  Would he rush her to bed now or would he wish to talk about other things as the officer Paul had at first.  She was expected for a meal, that much was certain as the table was set, but probably that was to be afterwards.  From what she knew the General was not in full approval of the personal lives of his men and officers, so she was prepared for him to treat the occasion with more ‘Prancirian’ seriousness.  She fully expected him to draw the liaison out over the whole evening.  However his sensual greeting suggested a quicker intimacy, one with which she felt more at ease.  He lowered her hand, unexpectedly and she began to raise her head towards his face in the normal affectionate response of a priestess towards her acquaintance.

 

     “No its alright, not now,” he spoke all too quickly and pulled her hand away gently.  She detected instant disfavour.  His General’s voice spoke with power, even such simple words, and she would not have disobeyed.  Not for the first time she reflected that this man avoided involvement in sexual actions and words.  She had observed shyness amongst more than a few young soldiers but this was something further also.  This was the kind of abstinence she had observed from reading  ‘The Homecoming’.  She was curious about this man.  Probably he would bed her after the meal, she concluded.  Why else should she be here.

 

    “Please take a seat,” he gestured to one and she sat across the room distant from him, “I want to talk first.  Soon we will eat,” he nodded to the table.  “I was impressed to see you reading our books this morning” he said.

 

      “Is that why you decided to invite me here tonight?” she asked, aware that she should not put words into his mouth”.

 

    “Yes, I find it quite unusual in any woman of Pirion to read the books of foreigners, tell me what makes you want to read our books?”

 

    “I am curious about Prancir.  I have never been there and I wish to find out more about you.  We are defeated here and under your rule.  I want to know more about the people who have conquered us.  I want to find out about you.”

 

    “And learn our language?” he finished for her.

 

    “Of course and that as well”.

 

    “I am curious about you.  Usually people of Pirion have no interest in reading.  Usually they know nothing about my country and do not wish to know” he declared.

 

     “Now we do want to know.  You have forced us to take notice of you.  If you knew our country better you would know that many of us take great pleasure in reading and we have many fine writers”.

 

     “I do not see much sign of this.  Mostly your people are like beasts.  They only live to copulate for pleasure and to reproduce.  Your people have little other purpose in life.  Even when conquered they return to their old habits very quickly if allowed,” he said.

 

    “You think my people have no purpose?” she repeated, interested to try to understand what this leader of their enemy thought about her people.  The conquest was insult enough, further insults were merely interesting, for they could do no greater harm, than they had already done.  She was not surprised or particularly offended by his accusations, they were expected from these materialistic conquerors.  She could not take it personally because he seemed to imbue her with some intelligence or motivation at least elevating her to superiority over her fellow citizens.  She had felt for some years that she was different from most of her fellow citizens because of her curiosity and her interest in far away places and books, her practice of keeping a diary in Shanla.  In Dalos she had come to terms with her identity as a Priestess again but it had taken the war to make her realise what could be lost in the invasion.  It had given her a determination to keep her people and her culture alive whatever the Prancinarians might force upon them.  However, she had to be willing to learn from them.

 

    “You are people just as in my own country, but you make nothing of yourselves,” he went on, “You live like simple animals.  You have not the great arts of Vanmar and your technologies are backward.  You need the rule of progressive people to make you into a worthwhile people.  We Prancinarians can do that for you, and soon you will thank us for it”.

 

    “So you do not believe that we are worthless, merely that we need education”, she summarised.

 

    “That is so.”

 

    “What of the Vanmandrians?”, she asked, “I have heard stories about the way they treat us like animals, and how they slaughtered our poor people in Jumillos.  They surely do believe we are worthless”. 

 

    “Some of those rumours are exaggerated, I think, but not all.  In Jumillos they failed to appreciate the value of your citizens.  We were as angry over that as you were.  We fought with the Vanmandrians after that outrage and taught them a lesson.  We Prancirians do not behave like that.  You will see we are good for Dalos,” he stated.

 

    She was impressed that he sounded genuinely angry about the massacres by the Vanmandrians, but this was not good enough to excuse the crimes of Prancir which she had witnessed with her own eyes.  He seemed willing to listen to her.  This was a frank exchange of views.  She was not afraid of him, even though she recognised he had the power to change her life for better or worse.

 

    “That temple over there”, she pointed through the curtains to where she thought the burned Temple of the Goddess lay in ruins. “What respect for our people did you have when they were massacred?”

 

    “This is a war.  Sometimes soldiers have to kill.  There was resistance at the Temple you know.  As soon as I found out I halted that action”, he stated, with no sign of conscience.

 

    “I doubt there was resistance.  We had given our surrender and you broke your treaty.  Other houses were burned with the inhabitants inside.  Some citizens were chased and killed cruelly.  Where is your honourable nation now”.

 

    “These incidents were rare and soon stopped.  It could have been much worse, I assure you.  As you have said the Vanmandrians are not so kind,” he said.

 

    “Also there are the crimes you have committed against our men.  Many of them are still in the camps, the work is forced and they are worked hard as well as humiliated.  They are denied the freedom to be with their women.  That is cruel,” she declared.  He laughed good humouredly, but his dismissal of her objection she found distasteful.  The treatment of the men was something upon which she had thought she might be able to influence the General.  If her visit to was to do some good maybe this was something she could achieve, to improve their life quality.  Instead he seemed to disregard her point with his humour.

 

    “They are still prisoners and the war continues.  How many prisoners are allowed to sleep with their wives in any country,” he betrayed his misconceptions about Pirionite society by assuming that Pirion would commit such cruelty on even prisoners of war. 

 

    “War itself is no longer a normal practice in Pirion, it has not been for centuries,” she explained.

 

    “When the war is finished we will release them.  They will be able to return to their families”.