Once a King Pt. 18

Part 18: A Very Peculiar Sort of King.

"You are Pawel," she said. Not softly, like the swamp dwellers, but emphatically, in a deep, resonant voice. Her companion sang a response in a deep, melodic voice, "Our King for the saving of our wombs," and in answer, a third intoned, "For the season of the seed gate's opening."

I, Pawel, stood in the garb of the swamp dwellers; freshly bathed by Makar and Rada. By the law of the Wise Women of Bagnisko, I fasted all day. As the sun began to set over the swamp, Makar brought me to Bagnisko; first by watercraft, then a short trek up a narrow-but-well-worn path to the dwelling of the wise women.

There were three—Anastasia, Calina and Lena. There were always three, and only three—their names were always Anastasia, Calina and Lena. They were not named thus at birth, but as their essential traits emerged at whatever stage of life, they were manifested, they were chosen to be one of the three. The Holy Three, the Demonic Three, The Three that Frighten and Rule, here...in Bagnisko.

Anastasia was before me now...she was the one who named me...She was the oldest, the tallest and perhaps the most frightening. Not because she was ugly...no far from that; though at least twice my age, she was lean and sharp featured. Her dark, deep eyes, eyes that looked past life into death, and beyond death. Those eyes that looked older and yet younger than her face.

Her nose was long and thin, her cheeks hollow. Her cheekbones were high, lips narrow and tight. A prominent chin, long and thin but with a strong neck...a body largely concealed by her ceremonial robe, hinted at broad shoulders...the robe was not hers, but belonged to her office and it must have been forbidden to alter it because it did not hide her feet as it was intended...her predecessors were shorter because the hem was worn and frayed from dragging on the ground. Her eyes drew me in, so I could only notice that she was barefoot, but was too embarrassed to note any details.

The Wise Woman of the deep melodic voice was Calina. Older than me, but younger than Anastasia. She was also shorter, paler, and startlingly blonde. Masses of light golden hair that pained me because they reminded me of Genowefa. Her ceremonial garb was different from that of Anastasia. Anastasia's was stark white but unadorned...Calina's was also white but decorated with moon signs, the various phases of the moon in a yellow paint that glowed in the firelight of the Wise Women's place. Her gown, too, was made for the role and not the individual, and was almost obscenely too small for her. It clung to her round belly and tightly hugged her well-rounded breasts and buttocks.

Skryba, you noticed! I was not using the words of my people for certain body parts. Makar and Rada had prepared me to meet the Wise Women. There was much protocol I had to be aware of. Although the tongue of the People was close to that of the Swamp Dweller and the Bagniskos, one could not use the names of the intimate body parts that belonged to the People. Makar and Rada tried their best to school me in what words were offensive to the Wise Women and, indeed, to all the women of the Bagnisko. The men of the Bagnisko? Well, if things went as they should, the King of Bagnisko would have no need to converse with the men of Bagnisko.

Skryba, the third Woman, Lena...my God, skryba...she was not the image of Ionica, but had the spirit of the fire of Ionica. She did, however, resemble Ionica in certain ways...she was small...shorter than I am...and that for the Bagniskos was very small. She was the only one of the three who wore her ceremonial garb, as though it were made for her. Indeed...when I gazed upon her...I could see her as though she were naked! She, alone, wore red...she was covered neck to ankle...and shoulder to wrist...But SKRYBA...I saw EVERYTHING... Her sex was starkly outlined; her well-formed, firm breasts; her tight, muscular buttocks; and very narrow waist...

Her face was round and surrounded by curly, shiny, black hair. Her dark, heavy eyebrows were as one...not attractive to some, but magnetic to me, as they shaded her otherwise-too-seductive eyes. Her lips were full and seemed to me calling for mine. This was her magic...her magic to all men.

Each, in their own way, wove a spell around me. Anastasia, the spirit of existence; Calina, the power of the moon cycles and the seasons; Lena...lust and desire.

Unlike the Council of the People, the Three Wise Women did not have a collective voice. Indeed, when one of them spoke to me, it was as if the other two were not there...they faded from my vision, there but not there...at best, a shadowy shape seen through a dense fog.

I heard first in my head, as if it were the deep, almost-male-like voice of Anastasia. "Pawel, you come as foretold, the Bagnisko is without a King, and then the Gods give us a King, always a King from the Outside, a king from the Stypia. The King has a grave responsibility, to revive Bagnisko...this is your lot, this is YOUR fate, as long as you live in Bagnisko"

Thoughts formed in my head. How did the King revive Bagnisko? What does it mean, as long as I live in Bagnisko? But these thoughts never were voiced, for another Wise Woman, Calina, spoke...less in my head, and more in my eyes and ears.

Her presence to me was less 'spiritual' than that of Anastasia. Her startling, golden glow blinded me, even as I was amazed by her body straining to be contained by her ceremonial garb. The phases of the moons flashed in my eyes, as she moved and yet, stayed motionless. Her massive breasts heaved as she spoke, her belly shook as she spoke, her buttocks vibrated with every word. My eyes and ears were overwhelmed by her voice, as sweet as the birdsong was strong.

"You see the moons, you see my lush body. It represents the fertility I have in spirit, but the Bagniskos lack in themselves. No Bagnisko can mate, except in season, and the season approached. No Bagnisko woman can be entered by the man's organ unless in season. It is not just LAW, it is our nature. You must be ready for the season; we will make you ready. Heavenly FATHER for you WILL father many for the revival of the Bagniskos."

As suddenly as she blazed her image in my eyes and her voice in my ears, Calina faded as though she were never there.

The image of Lena...She was no image, no phantasm. She spoke, she touched, she moved...she was in front of me, around me. I inhaled her, and not just her scent—but HER. It was not the summoning of the coicie of my People. She did not control my sex, my arousal. But she overcame all the outer defenses of my body...it was impossible to tell where I left off, and she began. Male and female, we were no longer, not we but some united human, not male nor female.

And then it was over, and I slept...

I slept, skryba, on the most important night of my life (to that date). Wearing the best clothes my body had ever been clothed in, scrubbed to the most pristine of cleanliness. But starving and faint, due to my day-long fast. Now a fast is nothing for one of the stypia, as long as one has tea, one can go on without food. But for months, I had been well fed...not luxurious by your standards, skyrba, but a great largesse by the standards of the People.

Famished, I awoke to the light of a new day, in a most unusual circumstance...I was in a bed! Makar and Rada made do with mats on the floor, still a fine thing, I thought. And now, I slept on a cloud, or so I imagined. Later, I found out that it was indeed goose feathers sewn into a large cloth bag.

My drawers and fine shirt were gone. I wore a gown of impossibly fine fabric. Better than drawers, I mused, at least my manly parts hung free.

Then the thought came to me: how did this come to be?

As if reading my mind, "Anastasia undressed you, put the gown on you and put you to bed. She is the only one of us strong enough to do it." These words came from Calina's lips as she stood before my bed. No longer in her ceremonial robes, she wore a shift with long sleeves that reached just below her plump knees. The borders of the shift, the hem, neckline and the ends of the sleeves bore blue and red embroidery, similar to the pattern on the shirt I had from Makar and Rada.

"And did the other two ladies not help?" I asked.

"Oh no!" Calina blushed and giggled. "It is Anastasia calling to do these services for the King. When I say she is the strongest, I also imply that Lena and I are the most likely to be captivated by your 'charms'...Anastasia is mostly immune to men because of the way she is made."

I was unsure what to make of that statement, I assumed then it has something to do with her vows as a priestess.

Calina continued, "You must be hungry after your fast. I have made breakfast."

"That would be lovely, I am famished."

"Unless you're hungry for something else?" And she lifted her shift just enough to reveal a gorgeous blonde bush. She giggled again, "Or these?" Lifting the hem of her shift still higher, she revealed heavy and firm golden breasts with dark-pink, erect nipples.

"Calina! Enough!" The orders came from Anastasia. She appeared behind Calina, stared at Calina's plumb buttocks and gave them a disciplinary swat with the palm of her open hand.

As Calina lowered her shift (much to my disappointment) I noted that Anastasia also no longer wore her ceremonial robes from the previous night. Her everyday wear was an amber-colored shift, with no decoration save a plaited leather belt at her waist. Her shift covered her to the elbows and ankles, her feet were covered in hose of a very fine material that caught the morning light and shimmered. Heavy sandals completed the adornment of her feet. Her clothing emphasized her leanness, but also highlighted her strength. The hint at wide shoulders was confirmed this morning and the short sleeves of her gown revealed strong thick forearms and large hands with long strong fingers. Her fingernails were trimmed short, and I guessed that her palms were calloused from physical labors.

"Calina has made for you, the revered King, a most delicious breakfast. We hope it meets with your approval."

"So, I am a king now?" I asked.

"Oh yes," Calina answers...a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Butt the second."

"Butt is not a very formidable name for a king."

Oh, only we three will know you as that. "Bagniskos Under THE sheets Tsar."

Calina doubled over, as she said the last.

Anastasia smiled tolerantly. "Forgive her, King, Calina loves the jest more than she loves truth or sense or the alphabet."

"As simple Pawel, I have a hard time seeing myself as king."

At this, Calina, again, doubled over with laughter. I was puzzled for a minute, as to what I said was so funny...but when Anastasia rolled her eyes, I saw the joke.

Skryba, a double entendre as you educated folks would say.

I was perplexed as these Wise Women seemed less scary, less formidable, than they did at last night's ritual. But where was the third—Lena?

As if she read my thoughts, and perhaps she could, Anastasia answered my question. "You may wonder where Lena is...the ritual last night took a lot out of her. She has to pull herself together."

"None of us has been through this," pipped Calina.

Seeing the look on my face, she continued, "You are only the second 'King'. The first was long before our time. The Wise Women of that era left us a ritual which you experienced last night...Anastasia and I did our lines as required, but Lena...well, Lena was overcome by the magic she...and you created."

"Me, what did I do?"

"Ah, Pawel, you are the rarest of magicians, one that does not know he is a magician and a powerful one at that." This was from Anastasia, who I had already seen as the power here...but, perhaps, things are not as they appear.

"You must eat." Anastasia again, not commanding, not 'in charge', but simply, the practical one.

"Oh yes, I prepared such yummy things for you...eh...for the US!" Calina enthused.

With that, I was led from my 'bedchamber' to breakfast. The House of the Wise Women was large to my eyes, a palace in Bagnisko, but a pretty ordinary place in the 'civilized' West. The previous Wise Women decreed that there be a separate bedchamber for the king...this I learned over breakfast. I also learned that this was due to an unnamed problem with the first King.

We dined on poached eggs, and some toasted bread soaked in a tasty butter. Our beverage was a slightly alcoholic cider. Alcohol, in one form or another, was our usual beverage, cider or a weak beer with meals...a form of samahon for parties or late at night

Bagnisko was rich in the products of the brewer and distiller arts—in supply, if not in ultimate quality.

It was not until the evening meal, when Lena reappeared. Unlike the other Wise Women, she wore long, silky drawers and a very-fine-embroidered red shirt, that reached to her knees.

She looked very tired. Still, her eyes smoked with passion, as she looked at me over the dinner table. She spoke not a word.

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