swiftly. The man went even paler.
"My dear lady, I cannot ask Vengeance to kill for you! That is Lady Death's domain, and she will not murder at a mortal's whim!"
"I know this is not an ordinary request. Therefore, I do not offer an ordinary sacrifice," said Marrika. She rose and moved purposefully toward the dark-enshrouded altar. She heard the Blesser hastening after her, but did not slow. Marrika stopped within a foot of the altar, looking at it coolly. A knife, encrusted with dark red fluid, lay on a black silk pillow. The corpse of a rabbit, recently killed, to judge by its appearance, was suspended from the ceiling. It dripped blood into a small bowl.
"M-my own offering to Lord Vengeance," stammered the priest. "As I said, I didn't really expect anyone ..."
The feeble excuse trailed off. Marrika ignored him, her gaze on the rabbit. It hadn't been quickly and cleanly killed, as was the habit with every other sacrifice she'd seen offered to the god. Its ears, tail, and all four of its small legs had been sliced off and the creature had been permitted to bleed to death. There was blood on the floor a good distance away, mute evidence to its futile struggle.
Two shivers, neither born of the unnatural cold, shook her body. The first was caused by the realization that Vengeance's Blesser here in Braedon was a man who was excited by pain and suffering. The second was due to the understanding that this little, perverted wretch could perhaps give her absolutely everything she wanted.
She turned around. "I understand," she said gently. "Vengeance does not demand just the blood of his victims. He wants their pain as a sacrifice, too."
"When I was a young Tender, they thought I was wrong," the man said softly. "They didn't see — they didn't understand. But you understand. You must have been sent by Vengeance to me, to show that he approves of my worship of him!"
"Perhaps," Marrika agreed cautiously. "I believe we two think along the same lines, Blesser ...?" "Kannil," he said. "And your name, O favored one?"
"Marrika. And as I have said, I offer no ordinary sacrifice for my favor. I will bring you ... a human sacrifice, Kannil."
The excited color drained from Blesser Kannil's face. "There has been no human sacrifice in Vengeance's temple for... for decades, centuries!" Mixed fear and anticipation was in his voice. "I, I cannot... the laws of Byrn ... it would be murder!"
"Exactly," purred Marrika, moving even closer. She couldn't let him turn back now. If he did, well, she would have no compunctions about sending Vengeance an offer of his own Blesser. "No! " wailed Kannil, whirling away from her, his hand outstretched as if to physically keep her back. "I cannot! They would kill me!"
"Only if they knew," persisted Marrika, laying her strong climber's hands on the man's narrow shoulders and turning him around to face her. "And I won't tell. I'm bringing the sacrifice, remember? I'd be just as guilty of murder as you would be!" She had no intention of telling him that she had performed murder many times before in her young life. "I want this. Vengeance wants it, too—you know he does. You hear the call in your sleep every night, don't you?"
Trapped in the snare of her dark gaze, the unfortunate Blesser could only nod.
She'd thought as much. A quick flash of loathing shot through Marrika. She wondered how many of the animals, pet or livestock, that went missing in Braedon had fallen prey to this pathetic, depraved man. She squelched the thought at once. Keeping her voice low and seductive, she murmured, "And I think you want this, too, Kannil. Don't you." It was not phrased as a question, and his answering nod was almost unnecessary.
"When?" he asked, his voice dreamy.
"Soon," Marrika promised. Soon enough to satisfy her anger, and this twisted man's lust for pain.
C HAPTER S IX
And the Dark Knight turned over his cards, but lo, they were not what they had been! And he knew fear such as had not been his to
"My dear lady, I cannot ask Vengeance to kill for you! That is Lady Death's domain, and she will not murder at a mortal's whim!"
"I know this is not an ordinary request. Therefore, I do not offer an ordinary sacrifice," said Marrika. She rose and moved purposefully toward the dark-enshrouded altar. She heard the Blesser hastening after her, but did not slow. Marrika stopped within a foot of the altar, looking at it coolly. A knife, encrusted with dark red fluid, lay on a black silk pillow. The corpse of a rabbit, recently killed, to judge by its appearance, was suspended from the ceiling. It dripped blood into a small bowl.
"M-my own offering to Lord Vengeance," stammered the priest. "As I said, I didn't really expect anyone ..."
The feeble excuse trailed off. Marrika ignored him, her gaze on the rabbit. It hadn't been quickly and cleanly killed, as was the habit with every other sacrifice she'd seen offered to the god. Its ears, tail, and all four of its small legs had been sliced off and the creature had been permitted to bleed to death. There was blood on the floor a good distance away, mute evidence to its futile struggle.
Two shivers, neither born of the unnatural cold, shook her body. The first was caused by the realization that Vengeance's Blesser here in Braedon was a man who was excited by pain and suffering. The second was due to the understanding that this little, perverted wretch could perhaps give her absolutely everything she wanted.
She turned around. "I understand," she said gently. "Vengeance does not demand just the blood of his victims. He wants their pain as a sacrifice, too."
"When I was a young Tender, they thought I was wrong," the man said softly. "They didn't see — they didn't understand. But you understand. You must have been sent by Vengeance to me, to show that he approves of my worship of him!"
"Perhaps," Marrika agreed cautiously. "I believe we two think along the same lines, Blesser ...?" "Kannil," he said. "And your name, O favored one?"
"Marrika. And as I have said, I offer no ordinary sacrifice for my favor. I will bring you ... a human sacrifice, Kannil."
The excited color drained from Blesser Kannil's face. "There has been no human sacrifice in Vengeance's temple for... for decades, centuries!" Mixed fear and anticipation was in his voice. "I, I cannot... the laws of Byrn ... it would be murder!"
"Exactly," purred Marrika, moving even closer. She couldn't let him turn back now. If he did, well, she would have no compunctions about sending Vengeance an offer of his own Blesser. "No! " wailed Kannil, whirling away from her, his hand outstretched as if to physically keep her back. "I cannot! They would kill me!"
"Only if they knew," persisted Marrika, laying her strong climber's hands on the man's narrow shoulders and turning him around to face her. "And I won't tell. I'm bringing the sacrifice, remember? I'd be just as guilty of murder as you would be!" She had no intention of telling him that she had performed murder many times before in her young life. "I want this. Vengeance wants it, too—you know he does. You hear the call in your sleep every night, don't you?"
Trapped in the snare of her dark gaze, the unfortunate Blesser could only nod.
She'd thought as much. A quick flash of loathing shot through Marrika. She wondered how many of the animals, pet or livestock, that went missing in Braedon had fallen prey to this pathetic, depraved man. She squelched the thought at once. Keeping her voice low and seductive, she murmured, "And I think you want this, too, Kannil. Don't you." It was not phrased as a question, and his answering nod was almost unnecessary.
"When?" he asked, his voice dreamy.
"Soon," Marrika promised. Soon enough to satisfy her anger, and this twisted man's lust for pain.
C HAPTER S IX
And the Dark Knight turned over his cards, but lo, they were not what they had been! And he knew fear such as had not been his to
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