Warning
from Diane Di Prima's Prayer to the Mothers
they say you lurk here still, perhaps
in the depths of the earth or on
some sacred mountain, they say
you walk (still) … writing signs
in the air, in the sand, warning warning weaving
the crooked shape of our deliverance …
Sleep slowly left her, but Benezia did not rise. She had opened her eyes and shut them again. It didn't make a difference. Either way, darkness.
From nearby she heard soft sounds.
She sat up quickly, her heart pounding. "Who's there?"
"Hepta … Thesmophoros, it is I." More soft sounds.
"Shiala?"
"Yes?" The voice came from higher, closer.
Relief washed over Benezia, then annoyance. "Why are you here? I said I didn't want to be disturbed." Benezia sunk back down on the bed.
Footfalls so quiet she had to concentrate to hear them went to the far side of the bed. Dishes scraped against one another. Benezia heard them clink on a tray. "If none of this food and drink pleases you, what can I bring you that will?"
Benezia turned away from Shiala's voice and closed her eyes again. They strained to see and ached if she left them open. "My sight."
The footsteps receded, and a waft of air went through the room followed by the soft thud of the door closing.
"What would you do if you could see?" Shiala's voice came from by the door.
Benezia said nothing.
"What would you do?" Shiala's voice was closer.
"Go about my business," Benezia replied softly. "Please leave."
"Why don't you go for a swim?"
"You know why." She felt so tired.
"Do you swim with your eyes?"
"Shiala," she stirred on the bed, turning back in the direction of the voice, her eyes open again. "Why won't you listen to me when I ask you to leave?"
"I swore oaths, pledges you accepted." Shiala's voice grew closer. "It hasn't even been a year, so they remain fresh in my recollection." Footsteps went away from the bed, and Shiala's voice grew more distant. "That's why I'm sure I swore to help you lead and serve, not feel sorry for yourself." A sliding sound signaled the opening of a window. Birdsong and a cool breeze wafted in.
Anger coursed through Benezia. "Close that!" She pushed the covers down and sat. "Leave me in peace!"
Water poured out somewhere nearby. "You didn't leave me."
Benezia's anger drained away. "That was different."
Water sloshed and then trickled. "Yes, it was."
Benezia sighed. "What do you want from me, Shiala?"
"You've had time to mourn." Shiala wrung something over the basin. "There's work to do."
Benezia lay down again.
"The Potnia manages without her sight." A wet cloth touched Benezia's shoulder and rubbed down her arm.
"Stop!" She rolled away from Shiala, off the other side of the bed. "That's freezing!"
"So's the sea this time of year. Isn't that one of your spiritual disciplines?"
Feeling behind her for the wall, Benezia backed away from Shiala's calm voice. "That's enough." When she reached it, she followed it, searching for the closet, and a robe, but she couldn't find the panel to press. Her feet encountered something soft, and she stumbled, Shiala's hands quick to catch and support her.
For a moment they stood there like that, Benezia frowning.
"You've been sleeping on the floor?"
Shiala dropped her hands. "Yes."
Benezia tried to relax. "The Potnia stays in the Prototemenos, Shiala. That's not who or how I want to be. I don't know how to be who I am, not like this."
"So you stay in your room?"
Taking a deep breath, Benezia held out a hand for the cloth. "I can bathe myself."
Shiala handed it to her. "Why don't you go for a swim?"
"Because I wouldn't be able to find the shore again!" Walking slowly and groping in front of her, Benezia explored until she found the edge of the bed. She used it as a guide, moving along the far side of the bed. Before she realized she'd reached it, she knocked the basin with her shoulder. She felt it wobble, and grabbed for it, but her arm caught the lip. It flipped off its stand, spilling the cold water all over her and falling to the floor with a loud crash. Overbalanced, Benezia fell too. As water dripped down her, she balled her fists and shouted at the top of her lungs for as long as she could, with her next breath following it up with a particularly vivid string of scatological epithets in an Armali street dialect.
Someone knocked on the bedroom door. "Everything alright in there?" A commando's voice came muffled through the door.
"No one's injured," Shiala replied.
Benezia leaned back against the side of the bed with an audible sigh. She closed her eyes, and her shoulders slumped. When Shiala's hand touched her shoulder, she didn't move. "Shiala, please, I have nothing to give. I'm useless."
"So receive." Shiala squatted beside her and chuckled. "Or teach vocabulary. I learned a few words."
The door crashed open. "What happened!?" Eidothea rushed in, with several others, judging by the number of footfalls. "Is she okay?"
" 'She' lost a battle with a basin of water," Benezia announced, and bit her lip. "Sweet Goddess have mercy on me, a fool."
Shiala laughed, and the room got very quiet.
Benezia reached out toward where the sound had come from. Making contact with Shiala's knee, Benezia pushed her. "You are a terrible doulous." Then her smile turned to laughter too. The two of them sat there laughing in the cold puddle, while the others started cleaning up the mess.
When Benezia moved to get up, someone offered her a hand. She pushed it aside, and steadying herself with the side of the bed, rose to her feet. Asking for a robe, she donned it and cautiously made her way out of the room, each step a foray into darkness. She kept her hands out in front of her and walked slowly, sometimes sliding a foot ahead before stepping forward on it, especially on the stairs. As she progressed through the house, douli and the commandos came forward, greeting her with soft voices or gentle touches to her hands and sleeves.
"It's good to ... Good morning, Hepta."
"Go a little more to your right."
"We've missed you."
"Athame's light guide you."
"Careful, there's a table there."
By the time she reached the kitchen, she felt overwhelmed by all the kindness and support from so many she'd taken for granted for too long. She broke down, covering her face with her sleeve to hide her tears. A moment later, a pair of arms hesitantly encircled her, and then another.
"It'll be alright, Hepta." She recognized Chara's voice. Chara always had been exceptionally compassionate.
"We'll help you." That sounded like Eidothea, the stalwart head of the douli.
Benezia let them support her for a moment, leaning on and drawing strength from them, then squeezed their shoulders and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. "I'm sorry. I've behaved poorly." She didn't try to hide her embarrassment now. "I didn't realize how much I've always relied on my sight, or how many things I love to see every day, including your faces." She had to stop to not lose her composure again. When she'd collected herself, she continued. "I didn't know how much I'd miss them. Thank you, for bearing with me in my weakness." She drew a deep breath. "May I have a piece of fruit, please?"
Wails and screams, angry muttering and the dripping of water blended with the tang of bodily wastes. Benezia suppressed a lip curl. Metal banged on metal and shouts echoed down the dark corridor ahead as the barred gate swung open. She rarely came to this level of the prison. If she was honest with herself, she'd admit that she feared those kept here. She feared them because they showed the limits and potential each asari shared. They scared her because they were not so different from her, and because she felt completely ineffectual here.
As much as possible, however, Benezia was not honest with herself about her fears so that it wouldn't get in the way of fulfilling her assigned duties. Being the seventh of Seven and the second from Armali, she frequently received the tasks the others didn't want. They'd be delighted if she resisted or tried to get out of it. It gave them ammunition to try to force her out or to build coalitions against her. Whoever took over for her would resent it. She didn't even ask anyone else to accompany her on these rounds in part for those reasons, but mostly because she didn't want others to witnesses to her failings. She went with only the level's guard.
The guard lifted her light by the bars of the first cell. The government had refused to upgrade this level, to spend anything on electricity, or to install anything computerized or even decent facilities. To do so would acknowledge that this level existed, and that these people did. Instead the government let them rot here, in their own filth, before they made sure they didn't exist any longer. Thessia claimed to have eliminated capital punishment millennia ago, but all it had done was to hide the proceedings from the public and the law. That's why only Hepta had access. The extensive screenings they underwent, their high-level security clearance and life-forfeiting oaths still wouldn't have granted them that if at some historical moment a Potnia had not insisted that the prisoners receive last blessings or rights before their executions. Each Potnia since had continued the tradition. Next week, the prisoners on this level would all be killed, so it was time for Benezia to make the required rounds. In the dim light, she saw someone huddled near the bars. It reflected green then yellow off the occupant's eyes.
"I'm Benezia, Hierea of Athame, here to offer you last blessings, and the chance to receive the rite of absolution before your sentence is carried out."
Hands curled around the bars. "Athame—it was Athame who told me do it!" The voice had a husky sing-song quality.
"Will you confess the wrongs you have committed before Athame who sees all?"
The occupant knelt. "I will."
Benezia nodded to the guard who walked away, down the corridor, out of earshot, taking the light with her. "You may begin."
"I violated the soul of my mother and the soul of my sister. I violated the soul of my neighbor's 12-year-old daughter." Rustling came from the other side of the bars, where Benezia could see the occupant move to a crouch. "I drank deep, Hierea."
"Are you truly sorry for the harm you've done?" Benezia felt for the flask of holy water in her robe's small carrying pouch.
"I can tell you how it felt, why I did it." A hand reached out through the bars. "They wanted me to do it, to take away their pain. I can share it with you, take your pain away, too."
"Whatever you choose to tell me in contrition, I will listen to. It leads to absolution if you feel sorrow for the pain you've caused, and you've ceased to do such harm."
"I am sorry I ate them before I'd used them up. Athame made me! She made them delicious, whispered to me how to do it, when to do it. She made it possible." The prisoner strained to reach her. "Pray with me, Hierea. I serve her too."
Benezia made the sign of the three. "May Athame grant their souls peace when you rest at last." She walked away.
The aide reading her correspondence didn't notice that her attention had wandered. So many messages had been waiting for her. A biotic amp lobby was forming in the southern polis and intergalactic coalitions and deals were being made, with some serious salarian and turian competition that bordered on open conflict. It indicated some possible shifts in the salarian government she'd need to explore. For more than two hours, she'd been listening to reports and messages and dictating responses, as appropriate. She felt along the desktop. The pile of datapads had shrunk. Her thoughts turned to a related matter. There had to be a way to encode some of the messages so that she could read them with a neural link. She would have to learn how to do that, arrange for a secure adapter. Some of the waiting messages came from the Armali matriarchy and were classified. Those the assistant couldn't access. They might just be congratulations on her new position, but she needed to make sure. She'd have to call and explain the situation, or request an audience. A sigh escaped her at the thought.
"Deira, thank you, but that will be all for now. There are things I must attend to privately."
"Yes, Hepta T'Soni." Her administrative aides had done a good job managing the smaller things during her absence from her office in the Armali capitol building. It would be fitting to purchase resort vacations for them to show her gratitude.
As the aide left, Benezia's thoughts strayed to Aethyta, and she ran her fingers absently over the keyboard in front of her. The memory of their joining still made her shiver. She'd never lost control like that, or gone so far inside someone or for so long. It had been revealing, embarrassing and painful. Given the whole fiasco, it seemed unlikely she'd hear from her again, and that was probably for the best. Still, she wanted to call her, just to hear her voice, to know how she was doing. Embarrassment crowded in with the thought. She was becoming clingy in her middle age. Part of her still couldn't believe she'd actually sought her out. Aethyta had seen right through that. She rubbed her fingers over her forehead. She'd call Sha'ira instead. Sha'ira'd get a good laugh out of the whole thing. No, on second thought, she wouldn't tell Sha'ira.
"You are not an easy person to reach."
Benezia started at the unexpected interruption. She'd thought she was alone.
"Hepta T'Soni, Matriarch Terilene is here for her 4 o'clock appointment. Will you need any refreshments?" Disapproval leaked into Deira's voice.
"I'm sorry to startle you." Amusement sounded in the matriarch's voice. "After waiting three months to get in, my anticipation overcame my sense of decorum."
"Matriarch Terilene," Benezia held out her hands, palms up and fingers together, "you honor me with your presence. Your enthusiasm intrigues me, and I look forward to learning its source." She heard the other approach, and felt her squeeze her fingers. The touch lingered a moment longer than the circumstances required. "Do you desire anything to eat or drink?"
"Perhaps some elasa, to celebrate the approach of spring."
Benezia nodded in the direction of the aide, and wished she had practiced making her way to the chairs. "Matriarch, would you be so kind as to lead me to the chairs?"
"You can't see?" A hand grasped her elbow lightly. "What happened?"
"It's a mystery." When the matriarch placed her hand on the arm of the chair, she inclined her head. "Thank you." She waited for her guest to sit.
The adjacent chair made a small sound. "Perhaps it has something to do then with the congratulations I hear are in order." The matriarch's voice came from lower. "Though what that suggests of the initiation practices of the Temple is intimidating."
"Nor could I offer you reassurance." Benezia sat. "Word travels fast." She could hear the aide pouring their drinks in the background.
"It's not the sort of thing the matriarchies keep from each other. Armali is very proud. Serrice had hoped its candidate would receive the honor, but I am glad to know it's you."
Benezia felt the glass at her fingertips and took it. "Eezo?"
"Yes, please."
The aide returned to drop the cubes in each of their glasses, then left.
Benezia wished she could see her visitor. How could she gauge what to say without those clues? "Pantariste is a gifted, natural leader and an eloquent speaker. She brings Serrice much honor."
"She comes from a good family and is well chosen. We are proud of her." Terilene took a sip. "Still, Serrice has had its eye on you for some time." The way Terilene said it sounded suggestive.
Benezia sipped her drink and waited. Whatever it sounded like, matriarchs rarely, if ever, propositioned matrons. Cross-stage romances were frowned upon. Perceived power could prove a potent aphrodisiac, however, and it was possible that even a matriarch might find her suddenly interesting, or have a priestess fantasy she had not managed to indulge already. Still, Terilene would know the limits placed on any Hepta, and the restrictions on a Chloe. This could be a test or a ploy to advance Pantariste.
"We know the prophecy, and believe the Pythia infallible."
Benezia inclined her head, and took a sip of elasa.
Terilene's chair creaked. "I had hoped we would speak at lunch after the vote, but you disappeared. Recent events have only increased the urgency and importance of the matter I'd like to discuss with you. When you didn't return and Hepta Narissa couldn't find you, she explained that someone had likely importuned you?"
Catching her swallow, Benezia carefully set her glass down on the arm of the chair again.
When Benezia didn't speak, Terilene continued, "I almost didn't come today. Your staff put me in a long queue, even when I told them who I am and who I represent. I am not accustomed to being treated with so little consideration. There is much I would like to discuss with you to the mutual benefit of our poli, but being shown disregard does not build trust."
Benezia swallowed and nodded. "My apologies, Mitera. My staff is not responsible. They were following my orders to give no one preferential treatment. I hear everyone in turn, and many in Armali seek my counsel or support. Please forgive the inconvenience and your wait, and especially my missing the lunch I'd invited you to. I only have an hour now before my next appointment, but if you'll allow me to make amends, as Athame would have it, Narissa dines with me at my home tonight. Why don't join us? I promise you'll have my attention."
"It would be my pleasure, Chloe T'Soni." A finger brushed lightly over the top of Benezia's hand. "Thank you. I'm relieved that accosting you is not the only way to get your attention." The matriarch paused. "Would you will permit me to offer you some advice?"
"As you wish."
"You would be wise to revise your way of arranging meetings. Not every potential ally would be as understanding."
"Wise counsel, indeed, Terilene." Benezia forced herself to relax. "So, to business, would your urgent matter perhaps concern emerging technologies?"
Terilene laughed, took a sip and savored it before she answered. "No, Benezia, converging ones."
The guard let Benezia into the next cell, where the occupant lay in restraints on a cot. Benezia sat with her and tried to connect with her, but could get no lucid response. The mumbling and muttering occupant didn't know where she was or why, or even the year. After a half-hour of awkward dead-end exchanges, Benezia anointed the prisoner's forehead with the sign of the three and left.
At the next cell, the occupant did not respond to their greetings and could not be seen. The guard's light wasn't strong enough to show the corners.
"Please open the door."
The guard looked at her. "I can't leave this one open."
A high-pitched shriek came from down the corridor, but neither glanced in that direction. "I know."
"She's very dangerous, Hierea. You should skip this one."
"Everyone gets a chance to be heard and blessed."
"She's probably dead already." The guard pointed her light ahead of them, toward the other cells. "She won't complain that you skipped her."
Benezia waited.
"Have it your way." The guard extended her stun baton. With a jangle, she pulled out the keys and opened the door. As soon as Benezia entered the cell, she slammed it shut again with a clang and relocked it.
Trying to locate the occupant, Benezia walked to the opposite side of the cell and let her biotics flare enough to provide some light. It took a few moments, but when her eyes had adjusted, she saw the prisoner huddled in the far corner. She was naked, except for the biotic restraint collar. Long scratches marked her arms, back and crests. She was shivering, her arms wrapped around her shoulders as she squatted there. Benezia hoped she wasn't going to the bathroom at that moment.
She turned to the guard. "Why doesn't this prisoner have clothes?"
"She won't keep any on."
Unfastening her cloak, Benezia took a step toward the prisoner. "I'm Benezia, Hierea of Athame. I can see you're cold. May I offer you my cloak?"
The prisoner didn't move.
"She'll go crazy if you put that on her," the guard warned. The prisoner flinched away from the guard's light. "Why don't you come back out before she attacks you?"
As she got closer, Benezia saw many dark marks on the prisoner's back, neck and thighs. The deep welts, bruises and burns were the right shape to have been made by a stun baton. The scratches, however, appeared self-inflicted. "Thank you, guard. You may go now."
"You want me to leave? While you're in there? You have a death wish, Hierea?"
Benezia turned her attention to the prisoner. "I'm here to offer you last blessings." She held out her cloak. "Your scratches suggest you are truly sorry for what you've done. I can offer you the rite of absolution if you confess."
The prisoner pulled away.
"I'm going to put this on you." Benezia knelt beside the prisoner, making sure she could see the cloak.
The guard's stun baton buzzed loudly, indicating that the power had been turned all the way up. "She's loony. She won't say anything worth listening to."
"It's still her right to have privacy for her confession. I'll call if I need you."
"If you can." Running the baton over the bars so that electricity sparked from it, and the prisoner shuddered, the guard slowly went down the corridor.
Benezia carefully draped her cloak over the prisoner's shoulders. "I won't hurt you."
The prisoner pushed it off onto the floor. "You just want to feel better," The prisoner's voice was a whisper, "about yourself. You don't care about me."
Benezia thought a moment. "Probably."
The prisoner turned toward her. "How much did she charge you?"
Benezia's eyes flashed and her nostrils flared. "No price could be enough or right." The prisoner stared at the floor as Benezia reconsidered the wounds she saw on her. The scratches, she noticed, were infected. She reached into her pouch for the consecrated oil.
The prisoner lunged. A few frantic minutes later, Benezia found her back up against the opposite wall. The prisoner had come at her with a series of deadly moves, and only her training and the prisoner's poor state of health had allowed her to deflect them. The guard had been right; this prisoner was dangerous.
They regarded one another warily, both breathing heavily. The prisoner held her left hand in fidi, palm flat and vertical, fingertips ready to jab into Benezia's throat, her right hand in onyx, fingertips touching her thumb. Although that hand was held back, and lower, Benezia knew that would circle next to distract and gouge at her eyes, leaving her throat exposed. Benezia's hands had instinctively gone to cetus, to slap the onyx away, and katoptron, to use the wall as her shield. The prisoner's eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"
"What I appear to be, a very foolish priestess." Benezia lowered her hands, slowly. "If we're done getting acquainted, I'll pull out the oil I was reaching for now." She slid her hand into the pouch and brought out the vial, showing it to the prisoner.
The prisoner lowered her hands. "Why didn't you use your biotics?"
Benezia unscrewed the top off the vial. "I didn't want to hurt you."
"They don't teach priestesses that form, and none come down here. Who sent you?"
Benezia dabbed some of the oil on her finger. "I'm one of the Hepta, assigned to offer last blessings to those awaiting execution. We're taught to defend ourselves." She extended her finger to rub the oil in one of the prisoner's scratches.
"Hepta? Right." The prisoner snorted and slapped her hand away. "What's that, poison?"
"Yes, the one called kindness." Benezia couldn't keep her hands from shaking.
The prisoner frowned. "You don't sound like a priestess." With a quick move, she snatched the vial from Benezia and put some on her finger. She sniffed it. "Let's see what happens when I put this on you." She held the vial threateningly.
Benezia displayed her own finger with the oil on it, then put it in her mouth. She made a face and removed her finger, drying it on her robe. "It's not intended for eating, but whatever else is on your finger poses a bigger threat than this oil. Can't you tell your scratches are infected?" Grabbing back the vial, Benezia put another dab of the oil on her finger, reached out and rubbed it along one of the prisoner's scratches, a little more roughly than she had intended.
Flinching a little, the prisoner stared at her. "You're scared," she said accusingly.
"You attacked me." Benezia applied more of the oil.
The prisoner shivered and looked away. "No one's safe down here."
"Especially you it seems." Benezia really looked at the prisoner's face. Beneath all the dirt, blood and bruises, she seemed very young.
"I deserve it." The prisoner sunk back to the floor.
Benezia went, got her cloak and placed it around the prisoner's shoulders. "Tell me."
All the way to the Hydratemenos, Benezia felt sick. Her stomach twisted in knots, and her head throbbed. She didn't know what to expect, and she feared this visit. The Pythia did not answer to the Potnia or to the matriarchies. Like all prophetai, the Pythia was counted among the hosioi, the holy ones, but she was a law unto herself.
"Zia?" Narissa's touch was as soft as her tone. "Do you remember it at all?" She and one of her douli, Benezia and Shiala shared the ride, comprising the Armali contingent.
Benezia shook her head. "I was very young."
"And you never went back, afterward?"
"Apparently, it wasn't a pleasant experience. My friends refused to talk about it."
"Your friends?"
"From the home, Sha'ira, Kandake, Thais and the rest, the ones I introduced you to at the magistrate's party a few years ago. They were there."
"I'm sorry I don't remember them. It all blurs together."
Benezia gave a small smile. "Maybe I'll host my own Janiris party someday, and invite all of you for the whole holiday so that there's time for you to get to know each another."
Narissa squeezed her hand before letting go. "That'd be nice."
When the hovercar stopped, everyone waited for her to get out first. Shiala whispered to her that it was sandy and flat. She opened the door and stepped out into a fresh breeze that flapped her long, thin robe around her. Moving forward a few steps, she waited for the others to disembark, for Shiala to tell her when everyone was ready.
"Wait," Shiala whispered. "There's a procession coming from the temple." She pressed something cold and heavy into Benezia's hand. "Here's the offering."
Moving the object in front of her and holding it with both hands, Benezia listened intently, making out the scrape of sandals on the sand.
"Okay, they've stopped and lined up on either side of a path. Do you want me to guide you?"
"No." Slowly and carefully, Benezia stepped forward in the direction of the sounds she'd heard, hoping no stationary objects stood in her way. If it wasn't for the wind, she wouldn't have been able to hear the flapping of the skirts of the waiting figures. Using those sounds and skimming her foot lightly along the top of the path before setting it down as she'd been practicing, she walked for what seemed like a long time. She knew she must be close when the wind vanished. It had smelt like the sea, so its vanishing meant she must now be in the shadow of the temple. She took another few steps and hesitated. Something solid was nearby, but she didn't know what. She listened for clues.
What sounded like a child's giggle rang out, and then what sounded like a child's voice addressed her. "Thes'phoros of Athame and you almost walked into a pillar." The delighted giggle rang out again. "I am Kalligeneia. When I was born, they called me Thes'phoros, first seer and giver of divine orders." The voice came from the right. Benezia took one step in that direction and knelt, holding up the tri-partite branch, the traditional offering for a suppliant at this temple. "Why should I accept your offering, when you've tried to take my title?"
"Pythia and Thesmophoros, I am also called Benezia, but my names have never been mine to choose." The marble felt very cold. She could feel it through her thin robe. "Keep what belongs to you. Call me what you will."
"Metis gave you my title and sent you blind and helpless to me," the speaker took the branch from Benezia's fingers, and a moment later Benezia felt it tap the top of her head, "like a sacrifice." The speaker was very close. She either had leaned over or was short and as young as she sounded. "Why do you suppose she did a thing like that?"
Benezia kept her voice even. "Maybe for the same reason one of your own named me Potnia when I was just a child."
A small hand grasped her chin, and Benezia held herself very still as a small head pressed her forehead against Benezia's. "I like you, Be'zia. Metis doesn't want us to be friends, but I like you, and I see you!" The little one's breath smelled sweet. Her head moved away, and the small hand moved to Benezia's cheek. "You can share Thes'phoros with me if you want." She giggled again and moved away. "After all, I can claim Potnia with you."
Benezia thought she heard skipping as she rose to her feet.
Someone approached from behind her and a hand grasped her elbow. "This way, Chloe."
When the prisoner stopped speaking, Benezia knelt beside her in silence. A while later, she asked, "What's your name?"
"Viala Firnel." The prisoner's arms were crossed in front of her, each hand resting on the shoulder opposite, holding the cloak to her.
"Viala, for all that you have told me and for all that you have held back, for what you've done and left undone, are you heartily sorry?"
"I am." Viala bowed her head. Her cheeks were wet.
"Do you believe the Goddess can absolve you of your crimes?"
The prisoner looked at her with confusion. "I thought you did that."
"It takes the deity. I am no more worthy than you."
"You say that after what I've told you?" Viala frowned. "Do you believe the Goddess can do it, even after what I've done?"
Their eyes met. "Yes."
Viala stared searchingly at her for a while, then nodded. "Okay. I'll believe it."
Benezia took out the oil again and made the sign of the three on Viala's forehead. "Then thank the Goddess, for you have been absolved from your sins."
Viala eased herself down on the cloak to sit on the floor, letting out a long breath. "Are you going to leave now?" She stared at the floor.
Shifting so that she also sat on the floor, Benezia shook her head. "No." She hoped that in time she would get used to the smell.
"I think the guard will try to kill you." Viala's voice was flat, without affect, as she said it."She can't afford to take the chance that you'll report her."
Benezia suppressed a shudder at the thought of the prisoner in the first cell grabbing hold of her. "I would stay anyway."
Viala glared at her. "How do you know I won't kill you? I could."
"Well, then there wouldn't be anyone to absolve you of that." Benezia laughed. "Anyway, I don't think you'd want to help the guard out."
"You have a very strange sense of humor." Viala stared at her.
"At least I have one."
For the first time, Viala smiled. "You've got me there."
"As long as I'm here, she can't touch you." Benezia felt hungry, and thirsty. She contemplated sharing the holy water with Viala as she tried to calculate how long it would take for someone to miss her.
"Why does that matter? They're going to execute me anyway. You're doing all this for nothing."
Benezia looked over at Viala. "No, not for nothing."