Sephtis

28. Never.

"The wolves have cunning,' Sehara says. "And cunning is the heart of this curse that plagues us, the heart of the one who runs with them, the fallen, cursed warriors of ancient times." She pauses, catching her breath before continuing, "She has killed our leader, who took her mother from the wolves when she was young all those seasons ago; now she seeks to destroy us, to gain the mercy from the spirit of the mother she killed. Next she chooses the pledge-son. He loved me well, not many moon phases ago. Then she came, with her wolf eyes and her cunning ways, and has bewitched his heart, and his spirit. Our two most honored men she had ensnared with her guileful ways. We are leaderless, lost, and now, a vital pledge is about to be undone. She seeks to destroy us, for us to be wiped out, by warriors... Or wolves."

Eleutheros moves to come towards me, but one of the old warriors next to him grabs his wrist. At last Eleutheros defends me. "You are all wrong. There is no blame in the slave-girl and no cunning either. I favor her because she pleases me, because I love her face, and she does not chase me like other women in this village. I chose her first, before she set her eyes to me. If she has bewitched me, it is because she didn't try to."

"That is all part of her cunning," Sehara says. "She has trapped you cleverly, and you have failed to see it Eleutheros."

"There has been no trapping, besides I have asked her to be my wife, this evening I asked her, and she has not said yes. If anything, it is I who would trap her, and she will not be caught." He looks at me from across the room, then sits down again. But my heart still beats unsteadily.

Sehara remains standing, slowly placing both hands on her belly, her smile slow and triumphant. Staring straight at Eleutheros she speaks again. "You loved me well before you were bewitched, and I have your child filling my belly to prove it."

Eleutheros gazes at her, bewildered. Slowly, he blushes deep, as if he rememebers. He bends his head low in his hands and moans.

Some of the men laugh, and on of the old warriors slaps him on the back. "Gather back your heart young one, the bewitchment is over. A screaming brat will end it."

My mind is swimming. As if this is an awful dream I see Taaroko lifting his arms, waving the charms high over my head as he chants a prayer against my wickedness. His voice is rising, booming as it becomes a great shout that echoes through the house, shaking me like mighty thunder. I shrink away, my face turned aside, and his voice vibrates in my heart, through all of me, until I am drowned in it.

"Renounce the wolves!" Taaroko commands. "If you refuse, you must go through the right of exorcism."

I leap up to flee, but warriors fling me to the wall and pin me there. Some of the people scream, and others chant prayers to protect themselves. Across the room I see Eleutheros restrained by six men as he tries to come to my aid.

"Curse the wolves!" The priest cries. "Curse the hold they have upon your spirit! Vow that you will never again seek their company! If you do this, we can forgive you for the tragedy you have caused this village."

I shake my head. Never.

The chanting swells, rolling over me like waves. Taaroko shouts something, but I cannot understand his words. I am taken outside, dragged through the dirt to the great wall. They hold me against it so I cannot escape. Soon Taaroko comes, and stands before me. He is wearing a cloak made of a wolf pelt, and the wolf's head, dried and terrifying, covers his face like a mask. By wearing the wolf skin, he calls into his presence the wolves of the spirit world. He moves charms above and around me, praying for protection and power. Then he swings a bowl of blessed incense, so the smoke enters my eyes and lungs, entering my body and seeking out the spirits there. I choke on the pungent fumes, and my eyes are streaming. All about us, the darkness throbs with chanted prayers.

When I breath again, I see Taaroko, with a cup of liquid in his hands.

"This is the cup of the underworld. Drink Sephtis, and your spirits you stand so steadfastly by will show their true faces. You will then give them up gladly."