Talla's Fallen Temple Ch. 26

Zhair'lo eyed the pathetic lot of prisoners stomping and stumbling through the forest in front of him. He thought they'd looked haggard back at their camp, but the glaring sunlight of high noon made their filth all the more obvious.

"That's the best they have?" he shook his head.

"You sound disappointed," Sergeant Yung appeared at his side, his eyes never wavering from the dejected group of men.

"Well, look at them," Zhair'lo waved his hand. "They don't even look well fed, sir."

"You're right about that. Hunger is most likely what drove them into our territory and contributed much to the speed of their surrender."

A ray of light pierced the forest canopy, illuminating the trunk of a tree that blocked their path to about the height of a man's waist. Zhair'lo watched as the prisoners laboured to roll their debilitated bodies over it, a stark contrast to the Fighters who hopped atop it and back down the other side like wolves on a hunt.

"So there are bunches that fight back?"

The Sergeant tilted his head thoughtfully, as if wondering where Zhair'lo was going.

"Occasionally."

"Because there must be over a thousand Fighters in Gern, right, sir?" Zhair'lo asked as he vaulted the tree trunk.

"A great deal more than that, Recruit, counting all the men and women, the Enforcers, Guards, Fighters and a few Rangers," Yung replied, taking his turn to hop the trunk.

"So why?"

"Why what, Recruit?"

"Why are there so many Fighters when it only takes a fraction of you to wipe out people like this?"

The Sergeant, keeping to the pace of the laggard prisoners, only half turned his head to look at Zhair'lo sideways with one eye.

"Such things will be made clear to you, Recruit," the Sergeant's voice had gone cold. "These are not our only problems."

"Yes, sir," Zhair'lo twitched in response this dismissal and slowed his pace to drift behind the Sergeant.

He shortly found a stone-faced Zia marching next to him. The girl was shivering, which was ridiculous given the lightness of the forest canopy and the way the sun shone down at them so warmly. Zhair'lo realized she had approached him intentionally, separating herself from the others on purpose.

"You okay?"

"Y-yeah," she stammered, her eyes focused on the ground.

This wasn't the first time Zhair'lo had seen a girl acting like Zia. It was odd to see it here, on the dappled green floor of a forest instead of a bedroom, but he knew that when a girl had something on her mind, the thing to do was wait and let her get it out.

"They just killed that guy," she blurted out, her eyes unfocused as if she was still seeing the body.

"That's what Fighters do," Zhair'lo kept his voice as even as possible, wondering what had happened to Zia's bloodlust.

"I know," Zia reached into the air and tried to grab something imaginary in her fists, "and it happened right in front of us."

"Yeah. I've never seen anyone die, either."

Frustration gripping her, Zia twisted at her dark brown hair with one hand.

"I feel like I missed it."

"Missed it?"

Zhair'lo had to wonder if Zia was disappointed by the quality of their enemies, or horrified by the sight of someone dying. Maybe she was even surprised by her horror?

"Like it happened and – and I wasn't really paying attention."

"I was a little underwhelmed too," Zhair'lo admitted.

"Underwhelmed, yeah," Zia jumped so quickly it startled him. "I expected a battle. Something heroic, y'know?"

"None of that, today."

"No," she sighed, her eyes glistening. "No."

Zia drifted off inconclusively, occupied with her own thoughts, and Zhair'lo soon found himself surrounded by the other female Recruits, deep in a conversation turning into an argument.

"-was clearly nursing, Del," Bree threw her arms up, palms in the air. "It doesn't count."

"They weren't all nursing," Del protested stiffly.

"What's up?" Zhair'lo interrupted.

"Del's all upset about the barbarian women," Tara explained. "Because they had tits."

"They're not supposed to get that big," Del made her argument to Zhair'lo as if he had some authority for arbitration, "without being upgraded."

"I – I hadn't noticed," Zhair'lo admitted. "There was a battle going on, wasn't there? More or less?"

Del twisted her lips at his sarcasm, which just about topped out her emotional range. The other male Recruits, sensing the conflict, had caught up and were leaning in with interest.

"Any woman nursing a child gets bigger boobs, Del," Bree was clearly repeating her argument for the benefit of the boys just starting to listen in.

"Besides Merelda's baby, there was only one other child young enough to be nursing," Del argued. "And those people were nearly malnourished."

"Not the ones with the big boobs," Renzi held up a finger. "Those two actually looked a bit overweight. The clan leader's favourites maybe?"

"The brain on you," Bree raised her eyebrows to look carefully at Renzi, as if she'd never seen him before.

"Did he grow a cunt since last night?" Tara asked, pulling on the waist band of Renzi's shorts.

"Stands to reason, doesn't it?" he batted Tara's hand away. "The clan leader had several 'wives', so they'd probably get first dibs if food is short."

"How big would you say they were?" Del interrogated Renzi.

"The women?"

"Their tits, obviously," Tara put in. "I take back what I said about you having a vagina."

Renzi bit down on a retort and turned to Del, "I – uh – how do you measure them?"

"Upgrades. How many upgrades?"

"I dunno. I was never a 'Seal Breaker' like jackass over there," Renzi indicated Zhair'lo with a nod. "Maybe he knows the sizes."

"Well?" Del turned to Zhair'lo.

Zhair'lo racked his brain but couldn't for the life of him remember, in the gaggle of departing women, noting any significant cleavage amongst all the dirty rags.

"I could tell you if I saw them," he said. "I've done enough upgrades to know anywhere from one to five or so."

He could also, he realized, tell a Sorceress from a Second, but there wasn't any point rubbing that in at the moment.

"C'mon, then," Del said and started jogging away.

"What?"

Running backwards, she beckoned all of them on with a stern glare.

"We can catch up with the women," she said. "Let's go."

Flush as they were with excitement, the battle having failed to use up their supply of energy, they raced through the forest. It was easy to pass the sad group of captured men and soon they exited the cover of the canopy. Travelling was simpler out in the open and it was much easier to see the target group of women. There was no objection from the various squads of Fighters they passed. As long as they stayed somewhere between the front and rear groups of the moving army, and didn't wander back into the forest, they would probably be ignored.

"Okay," Del asked. "What do you see?"

The women, in striking contrast to the men they'd left behind, looked upbeat. Zhair'lo had noticed the fear and panic that had overtaken them when the Fighters had first shown up. After the battle, when Aloe had brought them out, they'd carried a dark but determined air about them. Now, as he looked at them carefully – and as the Temple women continued to encourage them – some of them could be seen to crack very meek smiles as they happened to turn their faces toward the Recruits.

"I can only see their legs and shoulders from back here," he pointed out. "It looks like they've all got two or three Tight upgrades."

"Madra Zen, he's right," Bree agreed. "Do you think they could outrun us?"

"No," Zhair'lo assured her. "They'd run out of air. Look at them. They're barely managing this march."

The Recruits moved up alongside the sheltered crowd of barbarian women. Their clothing was ragged and heavily torn up. He could more than make out the sides of their breasts from his position – he could in fact see little bits of aureola and nipples peeking through here and there. The breasts he could make out were pretty much the size of Talla's.

"You're right, Renzi," he said aloud. "The two that look a bit overweight? They're carrying what look like three or four Abundance upgrades and a couple of Strength. Can't see Point very well, from the outside, though."

The Fighter women began to look suspiciously at the Recruits, which they took as their cue to quietly slink back into the moving column.

"So weird," Bree whispered. "I mean, I know they gave us stuff in our food to hold us back – y'know, to keep us out of trouble 'til we're eighteen – but those women ..."

"Have pretty big tits, yeah," Tara said. "I didn't think that could happen without the Temple."

"You wanted big tits?" Kit asked her.

"No!" Tara's offended cry came out so zealous the others laughed.

"Not worth it, anyway," Zia's voice was stone cold as it cut through their banter.

The others quieted down in response to her tone.

"Even if I wanted a pair that big, I wouldn't want to live in shit like they did. We did them a favour, killing their leader. We set them free so they could live with us and be real people. They won't have to obey that dead pig on the ground, won't have to get beaten by him whenever he feels like hurting them. They can be whatever they want now and they have to know that's better than what they had."

There was a stunned silence in response to this. What she'd said hadn't been surprising; it was the philosophy of the Temple abbreviated and distilled to justify both combat and murder. What struck them was the cold disgust in Zia's voice.

She didn't say another word until they got back to the Barracks.

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Standing by the fountain in the Goddess's central square, Talla and Tina watched as V'shika approached.

"What in the nine hells did you do last night?" V'shika whispered, her eyes wide with glee.

"Why?" Talla looked panicked and started walking. The other two followed her.

"They're going nuts," V'shika accused, sidling up close to Talla. "There are Enforcers all over the Synergist tunnels. Squads of them. In and out all morning."

"Nine hells," Talla hissed. "That's our fault. Sorry."

V'shika, however, smiled.

"That means you found it, right?" she asked.

"Yes, but it's useless," Talla held out her hands with their palms down and patted the air in a calming gesture. "It's sealed off so tightly from underground, we'll never get through that way."

"Don't worry," V'shika would not give in to Talla's disappointment. "We still know where it is. That's gotta be good for something."

"You think so? I think Yua and I wasted a lot of time and nearly got ourselves caught."

"So what?" V'shika asked. "So they whip you again. What if?"

Talla stopped in shock, forcing the other two to turn around to face her.

"That doesn't bother you?" she gaped at V'shika. "Do you know how much that hurts?"

"No," V'shika shrugged. "You expect to do what we're doing without any pain?"

There was a long pause before Talla replied.

"No, I guess not. But I'd still rather not let them figure out what we're doing."

"And," Tina put in. "Getting caught trying to break into the Synergist storage would be a pretty strong indicator of our plans, don't you think?"

"Nah," V'shika shrugged. "People have tried to steal the stuff before, just to get themselves upgraded on the sly. That's why security is so tight – and why it's run by those humourless dolts from Form."

"Have people stolen Synergist before?" Tina's eyes narrowed on V'shika as she spoke.

"Yeah," V'shika shrugged, "but not for decades. They used to be pretty casual about it, y'know, since they knew it didn't work for very long once it got warm."

"But not lately?" Tina asked.

"Nine hells, no."

"We'll have to think of something else," Talla declared.

As they were approaching the gates of Endowment, it was time for their small group to split up.

"We're back training in Form tomorrow," Talla told V'shika. "We can meet in the baths after. I think Zoe can be there, too."

"Aye, Mistress," V'shika winked and departed.

"She frightens me," Tina looked over her shoulder at V'shika's dwindling figure.

"She's on our side, at least."

"Yeah," Tina acknowledged. "Having her against us would be worse."

They passed in thoughtful, slightly depressed silence all the way through the Bronze gates and the courtyard that led into Endowment Hall.

"Where are you tonight?" Tina asked as she pulled out her assignment card.

"South end, just over the bridge at a Mill by the river. You?"

"Quarries, again," Tina sighed. "It always takes me a day to get that smell out of my nostrils."

"Yeah, what is that?"

"I have no idea."

"Well, I don't know about you," Talla inhaled deeply. "But I could really use somebody tonight."

Tina stood up on her toes to peer at Talla's card.

"Somebody named Taust?"

"I don't see how his name matters."

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The Queen of Sweetness gazed as the stack of documents in front of her. It seemed that the stack never got smaller, no matter how quickly she tried to work through it.

Everyday kinds of criminality remained her responsibility, along with the drafting of laws and punishments to combat the spread of anti-social behaviour. Add to that her obligation to manage the Temple's military, and she generally had a full day. She was glad, in a way, that the women in Facial rarely bothered her. They were off producing their objects of art and singing their songs, presumably for the greater glory of the Temple, and the Queen contented herself with the luxury of ignoring them.

But even without any intrusions from the artists, her responsibility toward the signing and sealing of documents would never end.

"Highness," a Virgin in white announced. "Fin'la has returned."

The Queen beckoned toward the girl but did not look up from a disbursements sheet she'd been examining. "Send her in."

Shortly, Fin'la stepped up to the desk and bowed. Pale skin and long brown hair entered the periphery of the Queen's vision, and already she knew no good news was coming. Her disciple's demeanour did not brim with eagerness.

"What have you found?"

"Nothing," Fin'la's lowered her eyes in dejection.

"Care to elaborate?" the Queen chided, finally looking up to meet the Officer's eyes.

Fin'la, in her orange blouse and tiny bottom, folded her arms tightly under her breasts in a desperate attempt to stave off a shrug.

"There is nothing I can report," she unfolded her arms so she could begin ticking off her fingers. "One: I interviewed those from the Hunt. Two: I interviewed the guards from the Synergist room. Three: I discussed the matter with Sonja. There is nothing to discuss. None of them remember anything. There was no remarkable odour; no feeling of dizziness or lightheadedness. They experienced no headaches after the events. They had no common experience at all, except for extreme exhaustion upon being woken."

Fin'la let out an exasperated breath through her nose.

"There is no reason, in short, to link the events with each other or with ... with," she paused, her voice edging with frustration, "with anything at all!"

The Queen took this in stride, tapping her fingernails on the hard wood of her desk.

"Is there any record of anything striking people unconscious so quickly?" the Queen asked.

"No," Fin'la shook her head in disgust.

"And yet, in a very short period of time, we have two such events?"

"Yes," the Officer stared at the ground, twisting her lips.

"Then I believe, regardless of the chemical environments, we should proceed on the basis that the events are linked," the Queen firmly took control of her Disciple. "Your next step is to find something, or someone, in common to the two events. Any guard, any Enforcer, anyone at all who could have been in both places."

Fin'la looked up with a gulp. This was no small task.

"So I have to get a list from the Hunters?"

"Indeed."

"And we already have the names of all of the women who went out that night."

"Yes."

"I should compare that to ... what? All of the guards on duty in the Synergist Chamber?"

"All of the guards, anyone involved in delivered Synergist that night, anyone upgraded. Find a thread Fin'la. Find something that ties these things together."

The Officer took a deep, thoughtful breath.

"Good," the Queen noted. "You're done wallowing in self-pity, then?"

"Sorry, Highness."

The Queen hummed her acceptance.

"Anything else, Highness?"

"No, that will be quite enough for now."

Fin'la bowed and departed in a flash of long brown hair.

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The eight Recruits were sitting in the cool darkness of their quarters, as ordered, waiting for the Sergeant to appear. It was early in the afternoon and they were hungry, but they'd been sent here, their stomachs growling, and ordered to wait until called for.

"What do you think he wants to talk to us about?" Kit ran a nervous finger along his jawline.

"Hopefully some real weapons training," Z'rus let a bit of a sneer into his voice. "Hate to get into a real battle like we are now."

Zhair'lo tried to imagine how he would have felt if he'd had to go out there unarmed. He'd been handed a bow, which he knew very well how to use.

"What do you mean?" Zia asked. "They gave you swords."

Renzi looked at her oddly. "We've never been trained to fight."

"But ... really? Isn't there some basic training you get?"

"That's only for the women, Zia," Bree explained. "Didn't you know?"

Zia shook her head.

"So you guys went into that battle ..."

"Basically defenceless," Z'rus finished for her.

"Madra Zen," she whispered.

"They can't leave you like that for long -" Del started to say, but was cut off as the door opened.

The door opened, letting in a blaze of reflected sunlight and showing the silhouette of a large man. As their eyes adjusted, they recognized Sergeant Yung and those sitting rose to greet him, but he waved them back to the foots of their beds.

"So."

They waited, sensing that a Lesson was coming.

"You saw us kill a man today."

They greeted this with more silence. As the rules for receiving a Lesson dictated; one spoke only when asked a question; and one answered quickly.

"How do you feel about that, Recruit?" the Sergeant rounded on Kit.

"Sir?"

"Have you ever watched a man die before?"

"No, sir."

"So how do you feel about that?"

"Had it coming," Kit shrugged. "Didn't he?"

Murmurs of agreement filled the room.

"No argument," Sergeant Yung agreed, his expression patient.

"Still," Z'rus spoke out of place. "Dead guy."

"Dead guy," Sergeant Yung echoed, putting a bit more emphasis the first word. "We do as little killing as we possibly can, but we also never let any of them get away to cause us problems later."

He let that sink in for a couple of heartbeats.

"You want to be a Fighter, there'll be a lot more of that."

His sharp eyes surveyed them and not a single one of them returned his gaze. All eyes focused thoughtfully on either the floor or the ceiling.

"If you want to talk to me," he opened his arms wide with their palms up. "I'll be around. If this isn't the job you thought it would be, let me know before tonight. Tomorrow we'll begin weapons training. Other than that, you'll be with the clockwise patrol leaving at the first bell after noon."

The Sergeant let himself out of the room without another word. The door closed behind him.

"I don't see the problem," Tara's voice seemed completely sincere. "These people may not have been attacking us, but they're as much our opposites as they could be. Like I'm gonna be sad one of them took an arrow in the face."

"I wonder what they do with the rest of the men?" Renzi asked.

"Yeah, where did -?" Zhair'lo reply was cut off.