The Balance: Finale

"Well done," and her voice was the low growl of a hunting cat. "Angela, daughter of Robert and Aelfwen, will you take Ariana, Abiron, Paul, Sean, and Diana to be your husbands and wives?"

"My Lady Huntress, I will."

The Graybeard slowly walked to Paul. He had, Sean noted, a new staff.

"Paul, son of Conn and Fiona," and here Paul gasped, "will you take Ariana, Abiron, Angela, Sean, and Diana to be your husbands and wives?"

Paul whispered, "You found my parents. How? Who are they? Are they...are they well?"

The Graybeard nodded, "We found them, lad. Someday soon We will tell you the full tale. But for now, there are a few people who are wondering if you are going to marry them or not."

"Graybeard, I will."

Next the Youth stepped forward. His face was bright and his eyes clear and joyous, a young man in the fullness of his strength.

"Sean, son of Taran and Morna," Sean's eyes watered as he heard the much-beloved names of his parents, "will you take Ariana, Abiron, Angela, Paul, and Diana to be your husbands and wives?"

Sean's guts clenched, and he squeezed his eyes shut. Taking a deep breath, he stilled the gibbering of his mind and forced down the paralyzing fear.

"Youth, I will."

Lastly, and to no one's surprise, the Wanton came forward for Diana.

"Daughter Diana, true daughter of Helen and Linos, will you take Ariana, Abiron, Angela, Paul, and Sean to be your husbands and wives?"

"Wanton, I will."

The Wanton stepped back into line. Lastly, the Mother came forward. Her eyes were kind, and she was surrounded by the smell of warm bread. Her mere presence made Sean want to climb into her lap for comfort.

"We have used you hard these last several months, my children. We will not say that We are sorry, for Our survival is as important in our mind as the survival of your nation is in yours.

"What the coming days will bring, We cannot hope to answer at this time. The threads of chance are still being woven.

"However, I can tell you that Ariana has guessed rightly. We have depended on the faith of one family for too long. The recent years, where her line was reduced to a young woman and her child, have taught Us the error of Our ways.

"We would not cease to exist if your line did, Ariana. But it would be a hard blow. We have decided that those whose faith is strongest should be bound to each other, if such can be arranged. The six of you are one example of this new course. Others will follow. The children Ariana and Diana bear may choose to wed each other. Or they may seek out others like themselves. We give them the choice that we did not give you.

"Be well, children. If you need Us, call on Us.

"We are proud of you."

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The Deity had left, and it was only the six of them again. They sat quietly in the main parlor, talking softly. Sean settled more comfortably into the embrace of his chair, happy to be warm and indoors after too many nights camping outside or staying in shabby inns, a victim of Angela's desire to stay unnoticed until she returned to the Great Temple.

Through drooping eyelids, he saw Ariana stand and walk over to where Paul sat with Diana.

"I am going to bed now," she said. "Paul, I would be very pleased if you would join me."

Paul swallowed and looked at Diana.

"She has just as much claim on you as I do now, darling," she said with a smile. "You have nothing to apologize for. Go and make my sister-wife happy."

Rising, Paul set his hand in Ariana's and they left the room together.

"We are going to have to guard ourselves closely against jealousy," Abiron said softly.

Angela and Diana nodded their agreement. "I am not sure how this will all work," Angela said.

"Let's enjoy tonight, and worry about tomorrow when tomorrow comes," Diana suggested. "No one is saying that we have to set up a rota, or that on certain days certain people will pick who they spend their nights with. We are all adults and the Deity brought us together for a purpose. He would not have done so if we were the sort of people who would be driven to envy by an issue such as this."

Angela nodded. She rose and took Abiron's hand. "Husband, will you share my bed tonight?"

"My love, I will."

On their way out the door, Angela paused. "Diana, will you accompany Sean this evening? He may be too tired by our travels and by his own wit to do anything but nap, but I would take it very much amiss if her were to doze off and fall into the fire."

Diana smiled deeply. "It would be my pleasure, Angela."

"I thought it would." Hand in hand, she and Abiron left.

Angela's words brought Sean out of his foggy haze and into wide awareness of his state. He was alone with a priestess of the Wanton. A woman he had just married. Quietly, unmoving, he began to panic.

"Sean, why don't you come over here and sit by me?" the goddess in front of him asked.

Knees shaking, he rose and crossed the room to join her. He sat beside her, rigid and upright, as comfortable as if someone had stuck a knife in his belly.

Her hand dropped softly to his wrist, fingers like fire brushing the inside of his arm. He glanced nervously at her, then just as quickly looked away.

"Sean?" He opened his mouth. Tried to speak. Nothing.

"Sean, look at me."

Despairing, he turned and looked at her, beautiful and alluring and Deity help him, his wife. He dropped his head into his hands.

"I told her this was a mistake," he said bitterly.

"What? You have known me for less than a full day, and the fact that you don't carry me off to bed like a cheap whore means that you are a failure as a man? Give yourself some credit, Sean. Grace and polite action are something to be treasured, not a weakness to be disdained."

Somehow, some way, he managed to untangle his frozen vocal cords.

"I...have no gift for talk. Not with a woman. Not when we are alone." He gestured futilely. "Oh, I can be clever and witty when I'm in a group, like earlier today. But I...I just can't do it.

"You never wed." It was not a question.

Sean snorted. "I never got to the point where I could even think about asking a woman to wed me. I wasn't a serf, but I was a long way from wealthy. And the death-taxes on my farm meant that not many women looked on me as a favorable catch. Add to that my contempt for the church, my habit of asking questions that the high and mighty would rather people like me not ask, the fact that I was an awkward, clumsy youth, and it is no wonder that when I gathered the courage to approach the young women of the village I did not meet with success."

Got him talking at least, smiled Diana to himself. Just like some of the others I have guided. He convinced himself that he is unlovable. So he hid his romanticism behind a wall of intellect and sarcasm.

She held his hand, careful not to make a move that could make it seem like a seduction. She kept her voice light and friendly. "Well, whatever you looked like as a youth, you do not look ill as a man. Better than many, I would say." She touched his cheek gently, fingers avoiding the marks of violence. "Tell me the tale of how you got these."

Sean laughed grimly. "Damn near had my stupid head knocked off, is how I got them. We were just starting back for here. I was dead tired. I had been arguing with Angela non-stop for the better part of a week that she was over-reacting about the Deity's gifts, but she wasn't having it. She wouldn't stay in the temples, she was avoiding the inns. So I was having to take the watch while she slept. I knew there could be trouble on the border.

"When she woke up one morning and announced that the Father had visited her and convinced her to come back, I praised every aspect of the Deity I could think of, and some I made up on the spot. I was practically out on my feet, just stumbling along with one of my arms over the mule's neck, putting one foot in front of the other, hoping to find an inn where I could get some sleep.

"They came at us from the woods. If they had any training at all they would have had us clean. Should have attacked me as a group. Or at least had two of them double-team me. As it was, I managed to cut the first one down just before the second one hit me with a club that felt like a tree trunk. Lucky for me it cracked when it hit me..."

"I knew Scot's heads were hard," grinned Diana.

"Har har. He was left with just a stump in his hand. Stupid bastard should have run. But I guess he was desperate enough to think he could take me. I was down on the ground, bleeding and woozy, but when he came in for the kill I was able to get my dagger into him. Angela had already taken the other one out by that time. Grandmother's Loom, that girl is fierce!"

"And here you are, talking to me as if you are a real person. That wasn't so hard, was it?"

Sean stared for a moment, then gave a rueful smile.

"Fooled me, lass, now didn't you?"

"Oldest trick in the book. Get the other person to talking about himself," she smiled. "And here is another question I need to know. How long has it been?"

Sean considered a quick and easy lie, but he knew this woman, priestess as she was, would see through a falsehood in a second. He met her eyes openly.

"Never."

Diana nodded sadly, "Poor boy. I thought so. The way you froze up whenever the talk came to you and the opportunities you had on the road, being a hero. And the way you talked about how you left home. I don't think you would have left if there had been anything for you there."

"There wasn't," Sean said flatly. "No family, no love, and no opportunity for love. Not with the bloody damned church holding us all in its fist. No loveplay without marriage. And what lass would have a man like the one I was?"

"But Sean, why didn't you take advantage of the temples here? There was no reason for you to live chaste. You are a kind, decent man," she said, slipping an arm around his shoulders and giving him a hug. "Any priestess of the Wanton would have been honored to guide you. I know I would have."

"I was an atheist, remember?" he said with a bitter smile. "What self-respecting non-believer would take advantage of religion just to satisfy his lust? I may be many things, Diana, but at least in this I was not a hypocrite."

Diana laughed, deep and full. "You poor man! You ran away from a society that forbids bodily pleasure to one that does not, but because of your rejection of their views, you could not take advantage of what you found in your new home."

"Exactly." He sighed and leaned back, relaxed at last.

"But now we are married," she said, her voice low in his ear. "And I would be happy to guide you. In fact," she continued, "I am afraid I am going to have to insist on it."

She stood and held her hands out to him. Gathering his courage, he took them in his and let her guide him to his feet. He stood there, uncertain, while she examined him.

"Let me think," she mused. "There are many ways of setting one's partner at ease in our temple. Many of those we accompany have the same problems you do, Sean. They are unsure of themselves, nervous, convinced they are not worthy of love. But they are. You are.

"What we sometimes do is have them pretend they are someone else. A figure of their better, most perfect self."

"What, like a play? An act?"

"No, not that. But we have them convince themselves that they are the best person they can be.

"For example..." she turned away, and he heard her murmur, "And I really liked this dress, too, but I'll be too big for it in a few months anyway," followed by the sound of cloth tearing.

When she turned back to him, Sean was stunned. Gone was the elegant woman of a moment before. In front of him was a wild creature, her dressed ripped, showing vast expanses of her legs and bosom. Her hair was mussed and her chest rose and fell spasmodically, as if she had just been engaged in some desperate exertion.

"Oh Captain," she cried, hurling herself into his arms, "Thank the Deity you came to save me from those vicious criminals!" Her face pressed against his chest, but one hand was curled over his buttocks, stroking them firmly. She lifted her face to look at him, and he could not help look down the length of her throat to the curves of her heaving breasts. "However shall I thank you?"

Sean's mind raced. "Thanks are not needed, Lady Angela..."

"Lady Angela?" she exclaimed. "I am not she. Do you not recognize me? I am Priestess Diana, who you agreed to guide to my new temple. But I see now, my lord Captain, you are wounded. Did the blow on your head addle your wits?"

"Only for a moment, my lady priestess," said Sean. He was beginning to see how the game was played. "Pray, tell me," he continued, striving for the tone and rhythm of the plays he sometimes attended in the town, "Are you well? You come to me so disheveled that I must think those bandits have done you an injury."

"Nay, my good Captain, for you arrived in time to save my virtue, if I had any virtue to be saved," she said with a throaty laugh. She cupped his groin. "Indeed, I was impressed by the work you did with your...sword. Please, accompany me to yonder bower, where I may bathe your wounds and put you at ease."

She led him out of the parlor and into the hall. Sean watched, amazed, as he walked beside her. Without breaking stride, Diana somehow managed to remove her gown. A loosening of a belt, a quick rip of a seam, and rags and tatters floated to the floor. Within moments, the priestess of the Wanton was strutting next to him, clad only in a pair of heeled sandals, proud breasts thrust boldly outward, capped by joyfully erect nipples.

Taking Sean by the hand, she led him to her private rooms. Early in her marriage to Paul, she had realized the time would come when she would need her own place. The Wanton was strong within her, and her wisdom foretold that one day she would take a lover other than her husband, and that their bedchamber would be a poor place to consummate a relationship.

Indeed, this chamber was very much like her rooms in the temple of the Wanton. The bed was different, but no less magnificent, and she had managed to convince the temple to sell her many of her favorite tapestries.

"Lie down, brave captain, while I tend you," she said.

Sean lay on the bed, trying to quell his nervousness. After a quick detour to a corner of the room, Diana came back, holding a bowl of hot water in one hand and several clean cloths in another. Kneeling beside him on the bed, she rapidly undid his leather vest and removed it.

"Please, my lady, there is no need to trouble yourself so," he said.

"There is every need," she contradicted him. "I will not allow my noble captain to lie untended when it is in my power to aid him. Who knows what filth those ruffians had on their weapons? I will not be satisfied until I examine every inch of you." She matched actions to words and removed his shirt. Quick as thought, she straddled him and allowed her weight to fall onto his groin. He closed his eyes and fought for control as she bathed him with hot water and dried him with soft, comfortable towels.

He felt Diana turn. Opening his eyes, he saw that she had reversed herself, and was now engaged in removing his boots. As she worked, she made sure her buttocks, sweetly curved, were thrust towards him. Unasked, his hands came up to rest on her hips, palms caressing her strongly muscled thighs.

With a pair of thumps, his bots hit the floor. The stockings soon followed. With a look of avaricious glee in her eyes, Diana quickly unbuttoned the flies of his breeches and removed them. A look of shock passed over her face, and she cried out in horror.

"I knew it! The foul fiends have wounded you. Look here, mighty Captain! Your dagger rests, limp as a boned fish, when it should be hard and sharp. However can we amend this calamity?"

"I am told," said Sean, trying to keep a note of rising hilarity out of his voice, "that with the proper spell, priestesses of the Wanton can make even the limpest dagger ready for battle."

"Indeed we can," Paula purred, a note of excitement threading through the music of her voice. "But tell me, puissant Captain, would you rather this spell be made with the hands, or the mouth?"

"I think that the mouth would be the better choice," said Sean, unable to keep his desire from showing.

"It shall be as you ask."

Slowly, how slowly, she bent to her task. One hand lovingly cradled his testes, the other braced her body as she lowered her head to his phallus.

Sean caught his breath, and she laid a gentle kiss, tender and sweet, on the skin of his manhood. Another, only the slightest distance away. Then another, and he felt her lips open and her tongue venture out for the smallest of tastes.

And he was growing, his shaft lengthening, thickening, laying heavy on the inside of his thigh as his fear drained away. Pulsing hotly, and now she was kissing the bulbous head, mouth open, tongue dancing, and he was rising, cock growing hard, harder, the influx of blood forcing it towards his belly, and she was following it with her mouth, never leaving him, hands now braced on his chest as her head bobbed, slicking his length with her saliva.

He could feel the tidal surge of his seed within him, urgent for release, as could she, body-wise as she was. Reluctantly she removed her mouth from him.

"Your dagger is once more ready for battle, gallant Captain," she said, idly stroking him. She wriggled contentedly, pubis gently grinding against the hard muscles of his thigh. He could see how her nether lips had opened, the flower of her womanhood displaying itself for him to see, shiny with her womanly dew. "What other service may I do, my lord?"

"If it please you, my lady..." and here he trailed off, his reluctance to speak not entirely an act.

"Yes, valiant Captain?"

"I would ask. No, I would beg, for one kiss from your lips, for their color outshines the flowers of the field, and as the holy light of your eyes does the diamonds of the mine. I do not deserve such a boon, but you bade me state my heart's desire."

"It shall be as you ask, bold Captain, for your request was as courteous as it was audacious."

She dropped her hands to either side of his hips, and slowly, sinuously, she slid up his body, stopping every few inches to shower him with kisses. His stomach, his chest, the inside of his elbow. She suckled on the tender skin of his neck, tongue licking along his jawline. Her breasts followed her path, and Sean could barely breathe for longing. She kissed the curve of his ear, breath tickling inside, and he arched up hard against her, aching to enter her, but she agilely dodged his instinctive thrust.

"No, my love. Not yet. First I must grant your wish and bestow a kiss upon you," her voice was gently amused, yet with a thread of passion that more than matched his own.

She smiled down into his face. He gazed back up at her, scarcely believing his good fortune. His hands rested above her hips, where they flared in to the sweet curve of her waist. His thumbs, wiser than he was, gently stroked the underside of her ribs, making the muscles of her belly tremble.

Oh, this one will be a mighty lover for me, she thought. For all of us. She caught his eye as it rested on the small curve of her stomach where her growing child slept. He cocked an eyebrow at her.

"Are you sure this will cause you no harm?"

"The only way you could hurt me or my baby was if you were diseased, gentle Captain. I and the Deity both know that you are not, else you would never have been allowed to my marriage bed

"Now, kiss me, you fool."

Matching action to words, she bent down and pressed her lips to his, barely brushing his flesh. Tentatively at first, then with growing courage, he returned her caresses. She moaned deep in her throat as her mouth opened, and his questing tongue found hers, both urgent and shy at the same time. His hands came hard around her back, one pressed into the base of her spine, the other between her shoulder blades, as he matched her desire with his. She let her weight sag down upon him, her aching nipples pressed into the strong muscles of his chest. Her legs spread, and she let her open flower graze the sensitive skin of his cock, coating it with her fluids. Again he surged up toward her, and again she danced away, laughing.