What Enchantment Hides - Book 1

Prologue

         The twenty year old ran out from the priest's secluded office, tears streaking her face, her hair disheveled. Her garments were wrinkled, twisted, and showed clear signs of having been forced out of the way by someone other than the wearer. Passing another priest, she hid her face and stayed silent, biting her lip to keep a sob from escaping. No one would help her and she knew better than to complain. Her dance in the arena had displeased the people of Dorsha and therefore required her sacrifice to make up for the displeasure she had caused Misheth. It mattered not that the priests set up saboteurs in the stands to start a chant of disappointment for the sole purpose of sending a desired dancer to the public auctions. There, the priests would gather and bid against the public on whether the temple slave would be sacrificed on the stone altar as recompense or be purchased for use as a plaything for the priests. Only after being purchased by the temple priests for service as a living sacrifice did the young woman realize that death on the altar in the arena would have been a better fate As she ran, her eyes blurred with tears that refused to cease, she kept her gaze away from the colosseum that had been her life before this. Coming upon another part of the temple grounds, she raced for her chambers, in through the doors and down the hall, away from the prying eyes of the priests. The next morning she was found hanging from her ceiling, blood still dripping from her wrists. The mess was cleaned up and the incident never spoken of. She was just another servant anyway, sold to the temple as a child by Harta, growing up knowing nearly nothing but the temple and the sexual exploitation of greedy men and women. There would be more after her. There were always more.

         Hannon had sent another messenger to the city of Misheth. While very few cities paid any attention to the deities, and he could not care any less about who the priests pretended to worship, supplying children to the temple ensured the mercenary fortress always had whatever funding they needed. That funding came in the form of supplies, horses, information, and on some occasions high quality weapons. Dorsha was located in the lower Highlands, and as such, was a very beneficial point of business for Hannon. The fortress of Harta was just below the border in the Lowlands and so were out of the control of the three Highland nations. He had no issue with any except Kezna. Lucky for him, the priests of Dorsha also hated Kezna and their king. As long as people believed in Misheth, the priests could pretend to be priests and the people could watch their human sacrifices twice a year at the festivals and donate large sums of money.

         When the mercenary messenger returned and knocked on Hannon’s door, it was late. Most of the men were asleep except those on watch and the head of the fortress was beyond bored of waiting for news. “Sir, we have received a request.” Not what Hannon expected, but not out of the ordinary.

         He put his feet on his desk and eyed the younger man in amusement. “Who exactly is this request from?” The mercenary handed a formal letter to his superior and stepped back again. The older man scanned the paper and chuckled darkly to himself. “Interesting…” he muttered quietly. “And how exactly does Orin think he can pull this off? Does he think that the other nations will sit by and not get involved? I understand the Elves keeping to themselves, but the Forest Angels in the West Highlands will certainly get involved.”

         “About that, sir. I have been informed that those in Ynhilay have officially announced a permanent, neutral standing, unless a situation threatens their boundaries directly. We have no need to concern ourselves with them.”

Ah, so Trayzer has basically lost an ally. “Even more interesting.” He dropped his feet to the stone floor and tapped his finger on his desk, deep in thought. “I want you to send someone back to Dorsha at first light and inform the temple that they will be receiving a very special delivery for their temple soon. And send another messenger to Orin, one who cannot be traced back to us. Tell him we accept his offer amount and will be more than happy to give the royal family a visit they will never forget.” Even Cornelius won't be able to see this one coming. Without his foresight, the king and queen will be defenseless.