Tales of Erogenia: Book 1 - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Cirilia

Seated on her carved oak throne, Cirilia, Queen of the Snow Leopard tribe surveyed her tall, raven-haired warrior daughter. Even allowing for the partiality of a mother she had to admit that she and Zennar had wrought well. There was no denying that her sometimes headstrong daughter was the very epitome of Erogenian womanhood. Over six feet tall, and perfect of limb and feature, she was a vision of the perfect Erogenian female warrior.

She deeply regretted that Zennar had never seen his daughter. She had no doubt he would have been exceedingly proud of her and his absence was certainly one of the defining factors in the development of her daughter's personality. She could not help thinking that if Zennar had been present during Zenaria 's formative years she might have turned out differently. Not that she was entirely disappointed in Zenaria; far from it. Few women could boast of such a daughter. Possessed of a grace and beauty that rivalled that of the gods and stronger than any man, Zenaria did not lack for physical attributes.

Not was she disappointed in her daughter's personality - for the most part. Zenaria was kind, caring, fearless, passionate in all things, and extraordinarily dutiful. She had just one serious character flaw; Zenaria was possessed of a stubborn pride that constantly seemed to get her into trouble.

Proud like her mother, Cirilia thought. And like her father. Her loins stirred as her mind flicked back briefly to the night Zenaria had been conceived. It had been during the wild celebration following their victory over the Kavalians. Ah that had been a night! She hadn't had one like it since then, although sometimes her current lover came close. She flicked a glance in the direction of Ergond, her chief male advisor. He smiled slightly and gave her a nod so imperceptible that only she could see it. Tonight then. She took a slow deep breath. In the meantime there was the matter of her daughter.

Zenaria stood straight and tall in front of her. It was not the custom of Erogenians to bow before their Queen and Zenaria was least likely of all to bow to anyone. She let her eyes settle on her daughter for a few seconds before speaking. She had found that her steely gaze had the effect of making those who appeared before her listen more carefully.

The situation was a little awkward. This was a formal audience, not a mother-daughter chat. To her left stood Ergond, his golden chain of office, golden armbands, and ceremonial sword of office, making clear that he was there in an official capacity. To her right stood Argonna, Priestess of Snow Leopard; slender in robes of deepest burgundy and radiating an almost unearthly beauty. Cirilia herself was dressed, just barely, in a golden halter and a length of golden fabric that depended from her hips and flowed down in front and back, leaving her exquisite thighs and legs open to the waist. Both garments were of the finest Sandakar silk, and by Erogenian standards, the height of modesty.

"Zenaria ," Cirilia began and then stopped. "Daughter," she resumed. "This is as difficult for me as it is for you. You are aware of what you have done."

Zenaria nodded. "I let my pride get the better of me and disgraced myself before the tribe." Although Zenaria's words were repentant, nothing about her demeanour suggested she was in the least bit sorry.

"You did more than that," Cirilia continued. "You broke the nose and knocked out four teeth of my arms master. "Garrod, for all his arrogance will not be easily replaced."

"Replaced?" asked Zenaria , seemingly surprised. "A broken nose and a few missing teeth should not keep him from his duties."

"No, but his spirit quest will," Cirilia replied. "Shaming him in front of the tribe has seriously disturbed the balance in his Cha, and he has gone to restore it. How long he will be absent cannot be determined. A spirit quest takes as long as it takes."

"The tribe is better off without him," Zenaria responded. "He constantly spoke against you and the place of women in our society. He was a fool who deserved what he got."

"He was the leader of a misguided, but dangerous faction," Cirilia said, calmly. "And a man I preferred to keep where I could watch him. There is an ancient Erogenian saying: Keep close those who are you friends; keep closer those you fear most. Now that Garrod has absented himself from the tribe there is no way that I am able to keep track of him. No one may accompany a warrior on a spirit quest."

"Then what are we to do?" For the first time Zenaria sounded the faintest bit contrite.

"We?" Cirilia asked. "We do nothing. There is something, however, that you must do."

Cirilia signalled to Argonna with her eyes. The dark-haired High Priestess stepped forward and spoke. "My child. You have upset the balance of your Cha. It is for you and you alone to correct that imbalance."

Argonna's melodious voice flowed over Zenaria like water. For the first time in her life she went to her knees in front of the priestess, her head bowed. "And how will I do that? What shall I seek that will restore the balance?"

"That is for you to determine. No one but you can walk your spirit quest. However, I have seen something of your future.; something I think might help."

Zenaria waited expectantly and Argonna continued. "For moons beyond counting the people of the Snow Leopard have had no contact with the Ten Tribes of Erogenia. I would have you go into the southern lands beyond the Ice Gate and find these lost tribes."

"I will do it," Zenaria replied. "I shall let my spirit quest take me to the lost southern lands. I will restore my Cha."

Argonna smiled, her almost beatific features lighting up the audience chamber. "I knew you would, my child. Go with the blessing of the Snow Leopard."

Cirilia got to her feet, signalling that the audience was over. She watched, a wistful expression on her face, as Zenaria, her back straight and proud, strode from the audience chamber. "May the Snow Leopard walk beside you, my daughter," she whispered.

Continued in Chapter 4