The Fates (Book I) - 2014 Watty Award Winner!

5.4 - Justice

Dear Readers: Let's check in with Atria in Ancient Mesopotamia...

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Scene 4: Justice

2020 B.C.

This damned human race was not making her job very easy.

Where were the downright evil turds who undeniably deserved to die? Surely the earth was crawling with them, if the source of Nyx’s strength lay in the dark heart of humanity. Atria had met several such turds in the temple—but alas, they were already dead. She must have cut their threads during her previous visit to the Cave, while snipping randomly. At least those arbitrary snips had turned out well; the world was better off to be rid of those vicious, vulgar pricks. She could not take any credit for cutting their threads, though. It had been random. Just a happy accident, by no intentional design or desire of hers.

She wanted to take credit for the slaughter of dark-hearted souls. She wanted blood upon her hands. The dirty blood of pigs whose death would help toward draining Nyx’s power, saving Mother’s life.

Atria could think of nothing else, as she trekked from the Cedar Forest back to the city of Ur, arriving by nightfall. Approaching palace guards who recognized her right away as the king’s gift-whore from Inanna. Hers was not a figure quick to be forgotten.

They gawped at her as she strode up to the palatial entrance.

“H–halt,” one of them stammered as she came dangerously close, closer than modesty allowed, far too close for his manhood to contain itself. “Whence have you come? Why are you not beside your king?”

Atria flashed a winning smile, more to herself than to the guard, pleased to see the effect that she quite plainly had on this young man. At least the noble, prudish Gilgamesh was the exception rather than the rule, she mused with pride. “My goddess summoned me away,” she purred. “As I exist in service to Inanna, I must answer always to her beck and call. She bids me now to reenter the chambers of my king.”

With a bat of her lashes, she made the boy’s knees buckle visibly.

She drew a little closer to the smitten sentry, conscious of the gazes of the other guards upon her, dripping with desirous jealousy. “I pray you will allow me in, to do my divine bidding?”

His eyes were dark, dilated, powerless to blink, his lolling tongue incapable of speech. This was exactly how she liked her victims to look.

Atria leant in, her lower lip brushing his ear. “I’ll owe you a favor, for letting me in.” And these words, of course, were her ticket inside.

The other guards motioned to stop her, for further questioning as their post probably required, though likely also for the privilege of staring at her for a few moments more. In response to this, she darted a dark emerald wink at the boy whom she’d so easily persuaded to grant her passage. “Just tell them I’ll owe them the same.”

Atria sauntered through the halls toward the king’s chambers, making cheap promises to several more sentries at various points along the way. Amused at the ease with which such empty words could win her anything she wished, here in this world of witless men.

She bypassed the final set of sentinels and then was finally back in Shulgi’s quarters. The king seemed presently absorbed in serious work, but his gaze lifted as she entered, his thick lips stretching straightaway into the widest of grins. “Ah, my pet,” he bellowed warmly, standing up to come toward her. “You have returned to me.”