In Fledgling Whispers (Book 3 of The Transition of Pinn)

Dunn:

His eyes are fixated on the paper in front of him, the grease dripping down his double chin momentarily forgotten.

Crunch, tear, slurp.

Goddess knows, if I wasn’t so disgusted, I would be impressed with the gusto to which he eats.

The High Priest has been reading political pamphlets, eating the leg of greasy fowl which occasionally drips onto the paper on the desk in front of him. One particularly large drop splats on the page in front of him, which he wipes at with the sleeve of his holy white robe.

The High Priest’s office in the temple of the god is dark and magnificent. The High Priest sits behind a wooden desk so large it even dwarfs his large frame. Two wooden chairs sit before the desk, which I stand beside. Two red couches sit on opposite sides of the room with symbols of either the god or goddess embroidered in gold. The stone of the room is the same dark stone that blocks the sun in all of the temples, the walls are bare save for the torches which are the only source of light, and the four strips of cloth hang on the wall behind the desk. They are stained with gold paint and the dark splotches of dried blood.

I’m rarely here even though the temple is just across the market square from the Central Temple of the Goddess.

I patiently stand by, waiting for whatever useless task he has for me. The goddess, in her kindness, has blessed me with a position that requires little interaction with the High Priest. For that, I will be forever grateful.

“Ha!” he suddenly exclaims waving around the leg bone over his head, his eyes finally leave the papers and zero in on me, “Dunn, do you read the pamphlets?”

I am tempted to grunt in acknowledgment, but decide its best if the priest is unaware of my ambitions. Instead, I make a disgusted look, “No, I remain focused on the will of the goddess”

He takes a large bite out of the leg before tossing into a pail waiting at the side of the desk, “This is why I like you, Dunn, your devotion is exemplary… I’ve been told you finally found a vessel for your personal worship”

I stiffen. Maya, he’s talking about Maya. The one he had some sick pervert torture and abuse. Her skin is forever marred by scares and even worse, her mind is forever altered by trauma. I had taken her as my personal priestess in reward for agreeing to testify against the High Priest for me. We are not intimate, but he doesn’t need to know that, he can’t know that.

“Yes” is all I reply, is all I’m willing to reply.

“Good, although I must critique your choice, surely some of the others would better aid you in your worship. Marie, for example, is a pretty one”

“Maya is satisfactory” I try to hold back my glower, crossing my arms. My personal worship is none of his business. He keeps four priestesses on rotation for his private uses at his large house. I don’t want to know what he gets up to with them.

The High Priest shrugs, “just as well, I’ve been told by Aaron that you know the priestesses of the central temple”

I nod. I hope he is not asking me which one would be best for his personal ‘devotional activities’, I don’t like to think about that when I don’t have to.

“I need you to watch them, Dunn. Someone is leaking information to this Senator” he picks up one of the pamphlets. I know without looking that Hertliz’s name is plastered on the front, “we need to find whatever bitch has been betraying us”

I nod again schooling my features. I should be happy he doesn’t suspect me, but my mind immediately goes to Maya who has risked so much for me… well, and my uncle’s ambitions.

Becoming a priest was never in the plans. My father died when I was young and my uncle, having no sons of his own, had decided I would follow in his footsteps and become a senator. After following him around city hall for years, he finally realized that politics isn’t for me- I don’t do the smooging, the dealing, or really the talking. I prefer the quiet life, contemplative and alone. So, he and my mother decided I should become a priest.

It’s not been as quiet and meditative as I would like- actually it’s not quiet at all. I spend my day counting the obligatory ‘donations’ of the worshipers while listening to the false moaning of women who are pretending to enjoy themselves in the hope that some bastard will tip them.

It’s been enough to turn me off sex. I can’t touch a woman without thinking that she is using me for something- and in the temple that is always the case. Here, they are desperate to secure their future, desperate to get away from the constant forced sex with strangers. I guess sex with one Pinn, even if it is the one responsible for your predicament is better than sex with many. But what do I know, women are strange creatures.

“…report back to me anything suspicious”

Shit, I wasn’t paying attention. So I just grunt and nod. What does it really matter if I have no intention of reporting anything? I just hope I don’t have to invent some evidence to throw the High Priest off and throw some poor girl to the wolves.

But I would do it… if I had to. The goddess knows my soul is not clean having worked for her for over a decade. Sometimes you have to sacrifice the few to save the souls of the many.

And this is my role. It is my calling. I will fight for my goddess-given purpose to make clean the souls of the Pinns who have lost their way.