Serpent Goddess: The Horse Lords Book 1 Page 14

  A small glittering knife appeared in Lashna’s hand. Raising her palms to the rising moon she began an eerie echoing chant. The other cone-heads chanted the refrain:

  BEWARE the Mothers of Night - Witches who seduce snakes!

  Beware the Mothers of Night - For they are the foes of sun and light!

  Beware the Mothers of Night - Who fly with snakes in their hands!

  Beware the Mothers of Night - Who are searching, searching for the Sun!

  Beware the Mothers of Night – Who race after the Sun which they cannot catch!

  Beware the Mothers of Night - Holding snakes, they fly into mountains, into stones,

  Into forests, into houses, into villages and cities, thinking the Sun is there!

  But the Sun has already gone behind the earth.

  Beware the Mothers of Night – For if they ever see the face of the Sun –

  All will be destroyed and SNAKES will rule the earth!

  Hearing this chant Sava had to wonder – Don’t snakes already rule the earth?

  Squatting down, Lashna brandished the knife over Sava’s limp phallus. His eyes went wide.

  “So - You think our big heads are - Ugly?”

  “Nay. NAY. I NEVER said that.” He shook his head vehemently. “I foolishly spoke without thinking when I said your heads were `deformed’. But that is not the same as ugly.”

  “Oh? Well we don’t like all your – ugly - hair.” Lashna’s voice dripped visceral disgust.

  With those words the chief priestess grasped a thatch of Sava’s coarse dark genital hair with one hand and scraped the sharp knife over his skin.

  Ah! He dared not flinch but remained silent and motionless as Lashna scraped the knife around his quivering genitals. This strange priestess is a boiling cauldron.

  The cone-heads gathered close, muttering approval.

  “All this hair is ugly. Ugly.” She kept repeating as she scraped off his bush. “Now, look how handsome. See?” She gestured at Sava’s newly denuded pubic area to the murmured approval of the others. “If we untie your hands, will you give us your word that you will not to try to escape?”

  Sava nodded emphatically. An acolyte proceeded to cut the thongs securing his hands to the stakes. He sat up, not taking his eyes off Lashna. His feet were still bound and spread-eagled.

  “Tonight You will pleasure me my Sauromatian stallion.” Kneeling over his groin she grasped his flaccid phallus. “What happened? Are you afraid? Pah! I will give you something to be afraid of. If you cannot give me pleasure, I will chop off your manhood!”

  But there was no help for it. Sava’s normally effervescent cock lay shrunken and limp. If anything his one-eyed snake wilted even more.

  “I will give you one chance. Concentrate. Make the most of it.” Lashna’s sensuous lips closed over the head of his limp member, kissing, licking, sucking.

  But her threat of castration had drastically mitigated any potential lust on Sava’s part. Goddess – Help me!

  His determined effort to focus on Lashna’s sumptuous tongue and lips as she pumped his cock soon resulted in an arousal, though it was somewhat less than rigidly tumescent.

  Hail Mata Drakaina! But this cone-head priestess has no yoni. How can I have sex with her?

  “Brace your hands behind you and lean back.” Lashna commanded.

  The priestess straddled his loins and began undulating her buttocks over his erection. She pressed her breasts together, offering large succulent nipples to his lips.

  “Suck me. Aye lick my nipples. Now bite them. Hard. Like that – Ah Pain! To know pain is to feel. For me pain is pleasure. Pain banishes the numbness. Pain makes me feel alive.” She moaned softly as Sava suckled and nipped one nipple while his hand squeezed and pinched the other.

  Anything you say Lashna.

  “It’s good. Keep doing that. Ahhh… I like it.” Her voice was a breathy whisper.

  The katochos writhed seductively, squeezing and rubbing his cock with her hand and her smooth warm inner thighs. One of the cone-heads put a hand on Lashna’s head, then put his other hand another cone-head. Soon they were all connected in a circle, moaning and writhing, sensing and feeling Lashna’s passion.

  The problem for Sava was that Lashna’s sheath was sewn together. Then he felt what she wanted. Using his cock head she nosed her anus. Gently sliding it over her rosette at first, then pushing down harder, harder.

  “Oh it is big. It’s too big. Ahh! It hurts, it hurts. But I love it. Aye…suck my nipples. Make them hard. Tight. Oh it’s too tight. Aye don’t stop. Don’t stop!” She hissed at him.

  Inch by inch Lashna lowered her tight channel down over his erection. Then she began to ride him, pumping, flexing and rocking, her movements sensuous slow and deliberate. All the cone-heads groaning and moaning as if experiencing Lashna’s thrilling build up to orgasm through their heads.

  Feeling the approaching spasms of climax Sava groaned. The entire circle of ennarei responded, groaning in unison with him, bodies trembling, shuddering. But even in the midst of this sensation, Sava never lost track of his chance to break free and swim to shore.

  “Keep sucking my nipples. Aahhh…hmmh…Don’t stop. It feels so good. Suck hard. Bite. Ah! It hurts so good.”

  Sava released a low, animalistic groan. The connected circle of cone-heads writhed with him. Just as he felt the shudders of orgasm coming on strong, Lashna stopped. Lifting herself off his cock, she offered him the glittering knife and pointed to her sealed sheath.

  “Cut me open. Breed me. Shoot your seed into my womb. Long have I waited for this moment. Breed me. I want to know what it is to be a woman. A Mother. The Voices whispering in wind and waves told me of your coming. Give me a child this night!”

  Chapter 29 – Lords from Above

  His priestly headband is spattered

  With blood and pitchy venom

  All the while, his appalling cries go up to heaven

  A bellowing, such as you hear

  When a wounded bull escapes from the altar

  After it has shrugged off

  An ill-aimed blow to its neck –

  Virgil, Aeneid 2. 214 c. 100 BC

  Blindsided, Sava gazed at the shining sacrificial blade Lashna held out. Her huge haunted eyes glimmered in the torchlight. His mind whirled, gauging his chances of surviving this foul night without a disaster to himself or to this strange cone-head priestess.

  Armed with the knife he could slash the tethers on his feet, make a run for the lake and swim ashore. But he was closely surrounded. The cone-heads would try to block his escape. Sava did not doubt that some of them also carried knives. In the fracas he might end up killing someone, maybe even the katochos. Such a debacle would destroy any chance of gaining Budini support for the alliance.

  But there was one thing Sava was sure of. He would not slit Lashna open like some beast trussed for sacrifice. That would be a desecration requiring severe punishment, even death.

  So far he had taken the path of least resistance. By acceding to Lashna’s demands he had hoped to get it over with as quickly as possible. But her new demand raised the stakes to another level.

  He had no idea how far these cone-heads would go in their crazed state, but he made his decision. Staring straight into Lashna’s enormous eyes he said -

  “Nay. I will not do it.”

  “NAY you say?” Grasping his manhood she slashed at the air with her blade. “Nay?! Are you sure?”

  Unflinching, unmoved, he stared into her glinting other worldly eyes.

  “Cut me open and breed me or I will lop off your manhood! Like this!” She slashed close to his now flaccid phallus, her voice a sibilant hiss. “So soft. So easy to cut. Once done it is forever! Just as these poor boys were shorn of their manhood. And what am I? They have made me into a monster with no feeling. I want to bear a child by you my noble Sauromatian prince. In my dreams I saw you. Now at long last you have come. I waited all my life for this moment. Open me. Breed me. Release me! D
o it. Now!”

  Her steely fingers tightened around his wilted manhood. Eyes slitted, the priestess pressed the knife to the base of his cock.

  “Cut me open and breed me or suffer my punishment. Forever.”

  “Why? Why must I do this?”

  He was stalling for time. His one-eyed serpent was in no condition to breed Lashna even if he wanted to. The entire prospect was bloody, messy, painful and disgusting.

  Stunned at how quickly the situation had disintegrated out of control, Sava stared into the universe within Lashna’s midnight eyes.

  And that calm logical Voice in his head said: She is bluffing.

  Lashna was not prepared to castrate the son of a voivode who had been sent as a peaceful envoy on an issue of great import. Such an act was akin to murder as it would destroy future generations of a noble family.

  To neuter Sava would be a devastating betrayal of trust sure to bring serious recriminations against King Konrad. Lashna would be punished. Severely. Not just her but her acolytes as well.

  A fearless voice almost not his own emerged from deep within his breast - “NAY. I will not cut you open and breed you.”

  “Then you will bear my mark. My pain. My loss - Forever!”

  With one swift thrust she slashed across his phallus. The tension was so high, he barely felt it. She tossed the knife to him in disgust.

  “Cut yourself loose.”

  Without taking his eyes off her, Sava caught the knife in midair. Still he did not move, not even to hold his throbbing but thankfully whole manhood, bleeding from a superficial slash. Still he would bear a scar to mark this godforsaken night.

  Sava’s eyes focused unblinking on Lashna’s huge eyes, reflected in starlight. “You are not a monster. You are still a beautiful woman. They can never take that away from you.”

  He cut the thongs that bound his feet to the stakes, and stood up straight, shoulders broad. Blood dripped down his thighs. He ignored it.

  The cone heads murmured with repressed excitement. Shuffling closer, they touched sensitive fingers to his abused, drooping prick. Each one desperate for a drop of his potent, virile blood to smear on the scarred remains of their genitals.

  As if his red blood could make their amputated organs grow back. Could make them into virile, fertile men and women again. Could bring back their lost lives.

  Messengers of the Lords from Above? Or simply lost children? Sava shook his lionesque mane in disgust.

  The cone-heads shrank before his piercing gaze.

  Chapter 30 – O Great Golden Eye

  And upon the earth, their mother

  They fell beneath their own spears –

  Apollonius of Rhodes, Argonautika 300 BC

  Whispering amongst themselves the cone-heads handed Sava his clothes. He did not bother to put them on. Naked, blood dripping down his thighs, he descended the pyramid. Stepping into the boat he rowed himself back to shore.

  Once there he waded into the water and washed his throbbing phallus, thankful the cut was not deep. He dressed and sat on the shore staring out at the strange moving island with its torch lit temple. Sleep did not come again that night for the nomad.

  As the sky began to pale he dipped a vessel into the crystal lake waters. He strode over to the victim who sat chained, staring at the sky, watching his last sunrise.

  “Do you thirst?” He touched the man’s bare shoulder.

  The victim did not speak, only gazed into Sava’s eyes. As if staring down a deep well Sava glimpsed the depths of a beautiful soul. The victim closed his eyes once in affirmation, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes.

  The nomad gave him all he wanted to drink, then sat down next to him in silence.

  As the first sliver of red-gold sun crested the horizon, the victim turned his head and stared into Sava’s eyes. The man’s dark, bloodshot eyes reflected blind panic. He was one step away from breaking down into total hysteria.

  But there was nothing Sava could do. He took the victim’s hand in his own warm hand and squeezed, trying to infuse some of his living spirit into the young man’s heart.

  “I will take your pain unto myself. I am with you. Always.”

  Moments later they were all rowed out to the island. Guards helped and sometimes dragged the terrified, staggering victim up the steep pyramid steps.

  Meanwhile some 20 warriors jammed the butts of their 12 foot kontos into the ground beside the temple. They crouched close, bracing the spears with their shoulders.

  Stationed on the ground next to the embedded spears, Lashna began the sacrificial invocation. The Budini joined in the chant, raising their hands to the rising sun, palms out in obeisance -

  Glory to thee, Oh splendid Sun

  Oh great Golden Eye of God

  All Hail the Eye of the King of Life

  Shining down upon us through Time

  The face of the God of Life

  I am he who rises and shines

  I am he who cannot be known

  A white wall which comes out of a wall

  So it has ever been

  So it ever shall be

  Glory to thee, Oh splendid Sun

  Oh great Golden Eye of God!

  All glory to Our Father, the Sun!

  Of the Sun were we born

  To the Sun we shall return

  When the soul of a man is good

  With a shout they lift him up to Heaven

  And he shall come forth from Death

  A shining thing!

  So it has ever been

  So it ever shall be

  Glory to thee, Oh splendid Sun

  Oh great Golden Eye of God!

  Four white-robed cone heads picked up the grey-faced victim by his arms and legs. Swinging his body back and forth, they heaved him off the temple onto the bed of sharp spears below. He landed on his back, impaled in several places.

  As the victim screamed in agony and his life’s blood gushed out, the ennerei sat in a circle around the spears, hands on each others’ bald cone-heads. They shuddered and groaned, experiencing the victim’s agony as their own. At the same time the cone-heads beseeched Targitaos to accept his spirit and to give them an oracle.

  Lashna hummed the oracle chant as she watched the patterns the victim’s blood made as it flowed and puddled in thick red pools in the sandy dirt.

  Standing nearby, Sava sank to his knees and bowed his head, heart clenched with black despair.

  Please Mata Drakaina just let this poor man’s suffering be OVER.

  But the young man’s heart was strong. It took time to bleed out. Targitaos would not accept anything less. As a foreign envoy Sava was constrained to observe. Not to judge. Not to ask Why? But the relentless questions kept churning through his mind -

  Why are the gods so cruel?

  Has anyone besides these half crazed ennarei ever actually heard the gods demand blood?

  The Budini call themselves `Awakened’ because they worship only one god while we worship many gods. Yet I see it now - the Budini are enslaved by the same vampir serpent who lurks behind all Skythian gods.

  When it was finally over the cone-heads beat their breasts and poured dust over their heads crying out – “Ah he was a good man! He sacrificed himself for his people! The Golden Eye who watches over us loved him and took his spirit up to heaven!”

  “Honorable Ones, Targitaos has spoken.” Lashna’s voice rang out. “A great storm of death and destruction approaches. Of the nine Pontic tribes, only four will stand together against the storm. If the Budini join the alliance a great king will be defeated. But the Geloni must also join it, for the destiny of our two peoples is irrevocably tied.”

  Sava shook his head, repressing an angry, cynical glare at Lashna, at King Konrad. At them all.

  A good man’s life WASTED for such a predictable prophecy. In other words the oracle said two things – Either it will rain or it will not rain. If by some miracle we defeat Persia, then Darius is `the great king who will be defeated�
�. But if we lose, then King Konrad will be the `great king defeated’.

  However Lashna’s prediction that only four tribes out of the nine would join the alliance came as a disheartening shock.

  Only four tribes to face the greatest army on earth? How can so few hope to defeat so many?

  “Sava son of Skopasis,” Konrad’s expression was grim, “You can inform King Raymaxos that the Budini will come to the war council. But do not take our attendance as a commitment to join the alliance.”

  Chapter 31 – The Watchers

  The waking have one world in common

  But each sleeper has a private world

  Of his own –

  Heraclitus, Greek philosopher c. 500 BC

  Immediately after the sacrifice Mikon made ready to return to Gelonus. Whereas Sava was determined to go on to Melanchaenia.

  “Thank you Mikon, for all you have done. The time I spent with your family will stay in my heart forever. I will never forget you.” Or your beautiful daughter.

  “Nor I you Brother. May the gods be with you. Always.”

  “I can send an escort with you Sava but only as far as the border with Melanchaenia.” King Konrad said. “The Black Cloaks have been raiding our lands again. Once you cross the border you will be your own.”

  The thought of venturing into Black Cloak territory alone was daunting. If I run into a Black Cloak war band they will pick me off like a fat tick on a cow’s ass.

  He seriously considered going back to Gelonus with Mikhon to wait for Hahq. But that would take time and the dark wings of war were bearing down on Skythia. The pythia’s words echoed in his ears – Don’t give up. Your people need you.

  The nomad’s fingers touched his gryphon amulet with the ashes of Sarpedon and Tara - Two great souls to watch over me.

  After a three day ride down a barely visible trail, Sava’s escort halted before a man-tall pyramid of loose stones.