The Guardian of Hope -- Part III--
Part III

With a shuddering sigh, Cassea pressed her forehead against the cool stone of the floor, grateful that her thoughts were hers once more. Not matter how painful those thoughts were at the moment. She closer her eyes tighter and tried to will the pain away.

The possession had terrified her. Never had the gods exerted themselves so fully on her. Finding herself trapped, caged within her own consciousness, left her feeling utterly hopeless.

She vaguely remembered the high priestess briefly checking her. However, the other woman had quickly left, leaving Cassea alone. And the silence of the room was welcomed to the continued cacophony in her head.

Flashes of her family’s past persisted in parading through her mind. Many of the details she didn’t relate to the high priestess entered her awareness. Details that made the vision richer, more meaningful.

‘I’m my father’s path to the throne,’ she realized. ‘I’m nothing more to him than that. I see it now.’

She moved slowly to her feet. Her hands shook in weakness as she attempted to smooth out her skirts. However, she stopped as she heard the raised voices.

“I want her here now!” a male bellowed, the words unmuffled even through the heavy door. “Now!”

For a moment, Cassea froze in fear. Her father had never been one for religious ritual beyond the traditionally prescribed feasts, sacrifices, and holidays. Any affiliation to an upstart, unrespected cult would be beneath him and excite his overwhelming fear of a diminished family image.

‘Why is he here?’ The duke would never set foot in the temple without great provocation. ‘Gods, help me, please.’

The voices grew louder outside. Calling upon her training, Cassea pulled her thoughts and emotions together. There were no outward signs of weakness as she opened the door and left the room.

* * * * *

Bitge jerked her head back up as she awakened from her light doze. She couldn’t guess how many hours she had spent sitting on this bench in the temple over the years. While she couldn’t fault her lady for her religious devotion, the old servant wondered yet again if Lady Cassea was playing with fire.

‘All things in moderation,’ she told herself. ‘Too bad that the Terio family seems to be lacking in that virtue.’

However, she quickly berated herself. It was not her place to judge her superiors. After years of faultless service to Castilla, Bitge had promised that she would continue that service with Cassea. In her own judgment, she thought that she was keeping that vow well.

A commotion on the main steps of the temple jerked her out of her reverie. The familiar, angry voice of the duke filled her with fear, fear for both herself but chiefly for Lady Cassea. She quickly jumped to her feet. However, she couldn’t think of anything to do.

“You!” the duke hissed, seeing the servant as he topped the stairs. “Where is she, woman?”

Bitge’s mouth worked wordlessly as her thoughts raced. What answer could she give to satisfy him? She could think of none.

“You are her lapdog,” he continued, his volume rising with each word, “so she must be nearby. Where is my daughter?”

Bitge finally found her voice. “My lord duke.” She dipped into a curtsy.

“You can’t stop with the courtesies. I will deal with you after I have dealt with my daughter. For the last time, where is Cassea?”

The high priestess rushed into the entrance to investigate the uproar. Although she seemed momentarily afraid of the lord before her, she quickly regained her composure. “Duke Terio, what brings you to the temple?”

“My daughter.”

“She is meditating, my lord,” the priestess replied. “I’m sure her servant will escort her home when she is finished.”

“Don’t presume to tell me what to do, charlatan! I want her here now! Now!”

“I can’t allow you to interfere with a person’s worship to the god.” The voice of the high priestess rang with surprising authority. “Unless you have rites you would like to perform, I must have you leave this temple.”

“I will not be order by a woman, the sham priestess of a false god.” He grabbed Bitge roughly by the arm. “Fetch my daughter now if you value your skin, old woman.”

He shoved her violently forward. The servant tripped and fell painfully to her knees. Her cry of pain echoed in the chamber. Hearing the angry footsteps of the duke behind her, she tried to find her feet again.

However, she froze as footsteps approached from inside the temple. Cassea seemed to glow as she angrily stared down her father. “Father, enough!”