A Gambit.

Aarni walked quickly, and with purpose. Madaza had a cathedral here in Fargwik, but Kresta also had a temple here, and if he was going to fight a foreign god, why not get your own goddess involved? He had no hope in fighting whatever charge Sune accused him of in a tribunal, the church always judged in their own interest and a tribunal was a show for the people. The issues the church really cared about were handled secretly, with back room deals and bribes. Any public trial was there to show the public the power of their god to smite anyone who went against the church. His only hope was to remind the people of their ancestral faith. Madaza preached that it was peaceful and coexisted with all other faiths, and the church was pragmatic enough to back down when the people rallied behind Kresta. Aarni reached the stables, had Erna saddle a good horse and rode to the temple.

The temple in Fargwik wasn’t nearly as ornate or beautiful as the true temple in Tsevest, but it was still lovely, built in the old style with crystals and windows set to capture light from any angle and redirect it to illuminate the statue of the goddess. One of his favorite traditions had been the full moon services, he had never been to the real temple for one, and they had stopped the orgies before he was born, so he had never seen that, but the light of the full moon illuminating the goddess, casting ethereal light on all the worshipers as they chanted and danced was breathtaking, and he remembered those days fondly.

Aarni bowed and pushed the giant stone door, it swung easily, allowing him to enter before closing behind him. He loved the incredible engineering and skill the Mnozians and their Kalnesian allies had put into this temple of Kresta. As the door shut he could hear the chimes that announced a visitor had entered. He didn’t have to wait long before a beautiful young lady glided into the room, she wore the loose cloak all the disciples of Kresta wore, but even the cloak couldn’t hide the young lady’s figure. Most servants in the castle would have had their figure fully disguised by the cloak, but this young lady had curves that exceeded any of the ladies in the castle.

Knowing the women of the temple to always be healthy, fit and beautiful, he was surprised, and also highly curious about what this woman would look like without the cloak, and he suddenly regretted his absence at the festivals since his father took ill. To see her dancing had to be something.

Aarni looked up at her face, saw it blushing and realized just how blatantly he had been staring at her. “I’m sorry, I’m here to see Mother Blomte, is she available?”

“And who may I say is asking?”

“Aaarni, son of Orm, prince of Mnozimar.”

The young lady bowed low, “Of course my prince, I will alert Mother Blomte immediately, follow me, you can wait for her in the moon garden.”

Aarni enjoyed being led to the garden, by the goddess, the young lady had an amazing ass. She turned, and caught his stare before he looked up to her face, she turned bright red again.

“You can wait here, my prince,” she said, then turned to walk away before turning back and bowing awkwardly. “I’m sorry,” she stammered before leaving, as quickly as she could.

Aarni laughed, his week of training with Yrsa taught him how to have a much stronger presence when interacting with women, and he had grown to love the way he could make them nervous with his attention.

“Aarni, son of Astra, is that really you?” The voice was clear and melodic, he recognized it immediately.

“Yes, Mother, it is I.”

“Come here, child, let me kiss you for the sake of your mother and father.”

Aarni walked to the elderly priestess and leaned forward. She took his head on her hands and kissed his temples, one for each of his parents, in the old style.

“I loved your mother. It seems like only yesterday I was taking her to the castle to marry your father. She was so brave, and so beautiful. . . she was undaunted by her fate.”

Aarni was confused.

“What do you mean, Mother Blomte? I know my mother was a temple maiden before she married my father, but what do you mean her fate?”

“In due time child, but first, you have not come here just to feed me memories, how can I help you?”

Aarni wanted to probe deeper into what she had said about his mother, but he didn’t have time to waste, he needed help. He told the priestess everything. When she was up to speed on his fate, he asked her for help.

“If you could speak to the people, if we could remind them of the faith of their ancestors, push back against Aggador’s invasion into our way of life, we could bring the people back to Kresta, and thwart my brother’s plans.”

Mother Blomte’s face fell. She looked at Aarni with a face of deep sadness. “I wish we could, young prince. My heart lifts to see your faith and zeal, but the goddess has been silent for so long. In the old days you could appeal to the Oracle, but even that has stopped answering.”

“It answered 18 years ago, it answered for my mother.” Aarni’s eyes were starting to tear up, he knew so little of his mother, but he knew of her devotion to the goddess, and the goddess had saved her.

“Oh my child, your mother fled the castle, fled and clung to the oracle. She spent days there, refusing to let go, crying out to Kresta.” The old lady wiped some tears from her face. “Your father followed her, brought the judges, did the ceremony, no one expected the oracle to answer, I was there, I wept praying for the goddess to answer us. . . no one but your mother believed she would answer.”

“But the goddess did answer.”

“She did. To my shame I was shocked to see it. The only time in over 200 years that the oracle answered. It vindicated your mother, it gave you a chance to live.”

“Then I shall go to the oracle.” Aarni felt terrified, confused, sad, and inspired all at the same time.

“My child, if your options are to leave or face the tribunal, going to the oracle is leaving.”

“But then I could come back, prove I was right.”

“I honor your zeal, son of Astra, but you would seek the goddess to prove yourself right, to punish your brother and the church of Madaza.” The priestess had stood taller, her face set, and her eyes burning into his, time had weakened her, but he could still see the powerful woman the people had followed for so long. “Your mother wept for days, crying out to Kresta, not to save herself or avenge her, but to save you. She cared not for her own life, and the goddess granted her wish, granted her most devoted follower the life of her child, but not her own.”