[Amanaduial the archer]

Some way from the humid palace garden where the king's emotions were stirred by the Western stranger, the cool air of the great temple to Rhais stirred slightly as a newcomer entered the still depths. But this was no stranger to the temple: the building recieved her as an old friend as she walked forward from the depths of shadow around the entrance, moving assuredly through the dim temple. The sandstone pillars rose up on either side, reaching high above the woman's head many times her height, majestically tall and imposing. The lines of the pillars wove round and around, spiralling upwards, and were decorated with tiny but intricate patterns of leaves, as befitted the temple of the earth goddess.

The white robed woman walked quickly between the lines of pillars, the long-chained medallion swinging on her chest with the rhythm of her passage, and she began to hum softly to herself, a strange, flowing melody that seemed to harmonise with itself in the echoes of the temple as she strode towards the altar steps at the front of the temple. She paused briefly in front of the steps, her melody stopping momentarily as her lips moved in a prayer or blessing of some sort. Then she continued up the steps, her footsteps light and silent as she followed the path she had taken every day for years. Reaching the top, she slowed down to a walk, then, halting, she genuflected low in front of the statue, her right knee nearly touching the stone floor as she bowed her head low behind the arch that her hands made as her arms crossed at the two golden wrist bands, as if tied, her hands making loose fists: the typical bow to the statues of Rhais or Rae. Straightening up again, the priestess took a step backwards looked up at the giant seated statue of Rhais which towered above her, the main focus of the temple, and a smile graced her young, slim face as her kohl-lined eyes lingered on those of the goddess.

"Goddess Rhais..." she murmured softly, then walked to either side of the statue's feet to light the warm naptha lights at both sides, allowing them to cast their warm light across the front dais and steps, and to sparkle mysteriously in the ruby on her chest, and above it the engraved lines of the tree stood out more, the light catching inside the tree’s outline. As she paused to look up once more at Rhais, the lamps lit her dark skin, making her expression seem to glow with sombre thoughtfullness, as if she was asking something of Rhais.

"High Priestess Zamara?"

The timid address made Zamara spin around, her long dark plait of hair spinning behind her as she turned to look down the steps at the owner of the voice: a girl in her early teens, her head covered by a shawl, naturally, her face round and young looking, although she wore she same simple robes as Zamara, although without the gold finishes. The older woman smiled down at the younger priestess, her face more. "Tayfar, I did not expect to see you today. Why have you come in so early?"

Tayfar bowed her head to Zamara before she spoke, and she blushed slightly at the warmth in the priestess' voice. "I thought it may be best, High Priestess - there will be much to do this evening if you are to go to the banquet, and it will take longer than usual."

A flicker of worry or anxiety seemed to dart across Zamara’s face, although it could have just been the light of the lamps as they fluttered slightly from a sudden breeze through the huge stone temple; it was gone in a second. She nodded slowly, then seemed more certain, nodded more briskly. “You thought it out more carefully than I, Tayfar – I had almost forgotten about our new visitor from the West.”

Tayfar laughed quietly, advancing up the steps. “I doubt that, High Priestess,” she replied with a grin. Zamara raised an eyebrow at her but contented herself with saying nothing, smiling back a little although her heart wasn’t really in it. This Western visitor…what was he here for? Zamara herself had been saying the morning blessing of the temple when the emissary had come through the city, but she was told that he had not even paused in front of the statues of Rhais and Rae. He did not accept them as gods. Of course, maybe he did not know…but that made things harder. Even Alanzia worshipped Rhais and Rae – how far away was this noble messenger’s country that he did not even recognise the faces of the deities of sky and earth?

Zamara knelt once more to the statue and murmured a prayer before rising and starting to one side, before she paused, freezing in front of Rhais’ likeness as if arrested by a word from the goddess. Tayfar hesitated also, but didn’t speak, knowing Zamara’s sudden notions of prayer, or who knew what, that sometimes came upon her. The priestess closed her eyes and took a deep breath before telling Tayfar to move on and start mixing the antimony that they would make into makeup later for the ceremony that evening: she would catch up in a few moments. As the younger priestess bowed quickly and scurried behind the statue to the inner sanctuary, Zamara half turned back, her eyes shining as she looked up towards Rhais’ face, her slim, dark fingers curling around the ruby medallion as she sank to one knee.

“Goddess, does this stranger come for good or evil? An alliance would be a fine thing, and to spread knowledge of our people, our customs, our deities…a noble cause, and if these Westerners actually seek it, they are blessed in my eyes. But such a strange journey to make from the war-torn lands…” She waited for a moment, then bowed her head. “Protect us from such foreign wars,” she said softly, more to herself than the statue. Coming out of the trance-like state, the High Priestess rose again. Running one hand across the fine silk of her robe, she followed Tayfar’s path to the inner sanctuary – but the fingers of her other hand stayed tightly wrapped around the ruby medallion.