Tales of Midbar: Secret Priest
Vice President - part 7

“I object to your derogatory reference to Nuhar!” said a faharni man I recognized as Orliz, a mid-level politician.

“Why?” asked Dwendra. “He wast a polygamist, slave owner, murderer, pedophile, rapist, bisexual, terrorist and false prophet, the vilest most disgusting excuse for a human to blighteth the surface of Midbar. I hath no respect for him!”

Orliz was now getting very angry, he stood up and pointed accusingly at Dwendra. “That’s the sort of disgusting religionism I expect from glildacs!”

“Racist!” I said.

“Art thou a Nuhara?” asked Dwendra.

“It’s sometimes useful to have some Nuhara friends,” said Guldrin, his face still twitching.

“Like when thou wisheth to hath a suicide bombing?” asked Dwendra.

“This isn’t really the issue,” said Guldrin.

“At least Nuharas live by their laws,” said Riflin, the minister of finance, one of few women present. “Unlike Trulists or Winemakers.”

“We intendeth to liveth by Winemaker scripture,” said Dwendra. Then she asked Orliz, “When thou wert initiated, didst thou not sweareth allegiance unto Yoho?”

“Merely a formality,” said Orliz.

“And thou also sworeth that if thou wert lying or turned against Yoho ...”

“This is just a tradition!” said Guldrin.

“... thou wouldst be stoned unto death and your body incinerated or thou mayest hath thou’s long term memory erased,” said Dwendra.

“Nobody takes that seriously!” said Guldrin.

“I didst not cometh here forto administer punishment,” said Dwendra, gritting her teath, “but to introduceth myself unto you and explaineth how I intendeth to changeth things.”

“We were getting on perfectly well ...” Guldrin shouted.

“No thou weret not!” snapped Dwendra. “Thou’s tolerating of a Nuhara art proof of that. Now ...”

“Orliz,” I said as Dwendra clearly didn’t know his name.

“Orliz,” said Dwendra, “Wilt thou repenteth or wilt it be death or memory erasing?”

“I will not repent because I’ve done nothing wrong and I don’t have to answer to a stupid teenage girl!” shouted Orliz.

“Then death or memory erasing?” asked Dwendra.

“You have no authority!” shouted Orliz, starting to stand up and looking around.

“Hothma!” shouted Dwendra, pointing at Orliz. “Death or memory erasure?”

Orliz dropped back to his seat looking shocked. He was clearly uncertain about the choice of punishment. He was almost certainly trying to choose the one we’d be least likely to actually be able to do.

“There’s no good way to erase somebody’s long term memory,” said another man I didn’t recognize.

“Doesn’t Winemakerism teach that if you stone somebody, Yoho himself must throw the first stone?” asked Riflin.

“That’s correct,” I said.

“Then I choose stoning,” said Orliz, smugly.

“Then we shalt useth a stone Yoho through long ago,” said Dwendra. “This chamber wert built on bedrock for that reason.”

Several of the hipsickim assumed expressions of horror, realizing how the rule was to be interpreted.

“What?” said Orliz.

“Wilt thou casteth him into the pit or wilt I hath to do it?” asked Dwendra.

“Will do no such thing you insane ..!” shouted Guldrin, shaking very visibly.

Dwendra waved her arm and Orliz flew over people in front of him and the wall on the edge of the pit and crashed head first down it with the grinding of conflicting magic.

“She’s a mage!” somebody gasped.

“I have protective magic so that didn’t kill me!” Orliz jeered and tried to stand up.

“There art more to the punishment!” said Dwendra pointing at him. “Scrilnetlin!”

Orliz burst into flames and collapsed to his knees screaming. “You can’t! Arrr!” He brought his hands up in front of him as if he was praying. Smoke rose from the pit carrying the most awful smell.

“This is why people don’t like magi!” screamed Guldrin.

“I thought Nuhara was so good because it’s follows lived by its rules,” I said. “Which isn’t really true of a lot of them anyway.”

“Now thou shalt be able to talk freely without worrying about upsetting Nuharas,” said Dwendra, “or art there other semen contaminated feces that needeth to be removed?”

They shook their heads as if their lives depended on it and I was sure they were lying.

“Murotan?” I asked. “Is he a Benai Nibeyim member?”

They just started back at me, Guldrin shaking and pulling his hands up in front of his chest.

“Who’s your other candidate for leadership?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” said Guldrin. “This normal looking faharni man. He met me at night and I didn’t get a good look at him but he knew the protocol?”

“‘Kindreth travels feminine books’?” asked Dwendra.

“That’s right,” said Guldreth, “so he must have a key. He didn’t say he was the Grand Farmer, he just said there was a true candidate, not you.”

“And thou didst believeth him?” asked Dwendra.

“Why would he lie?” said Guldrin.

“And thou didst assumeth that his candidate wert better than me?” asked Dwendra.

Guldrin stared at her as if she was the most terrifying thing he’d ever seen. “Can the other candidate be worse?”

“Yes,” I said. “Like working for the Monsters!”

“Or maybe somebody who isn’t a psychic or mage or something,” said Hildment, the shadow minister of finance.

“That’s korbarist!” I said.

“So are you!” said Hildment.

“Most our leaders hath been killed!” said Dwendra. “We hath a contingency to decide leadership in such a situation so, unless thee wanteth another leadership meeting and more leaders killed, thee must accepteth me as leader until the emergency doth endeth.”

Feminine books – Dwendra, rather than saying, “feminine books”, actually used the normal Faharni word for “book” pluralized with the feminine ending - “books” normally being neuter in Faharni.

We materialized in our apartment in Temple View Heights feeling annoyed.

“Haven’t done anything!” I said. “We’ve been working really hard but most of what we’ve done are things we can’t tell them about.”

“We shouldst implementeth our plan to riddeth Rendamar of Nuharas,” said Dwendra.

“That’s a bit drastic,” said Hubril, “not to mention certain to kill lots of people.”

“I’m not sure we have much choice,” I said. “However, I’d like some guidance before doing something that drastic.”

We started making dinner but were soon interrupted by somebody banging on the door. Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ (ꜰind)ɴʘvel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“We have a buzzer,” I said, opening the door.

I was going to make some more joky remarks but was met by a very upset Holmiath accompanied by several other people, including Acting Acting High Priestess Flaannin, my superior in the priestly hierarchy. She was a hipsickah with a mixture of faharni, quippa and glildac features, including light brown hair and blue eyes. She wasn’t a member of Benai Nibeyim.

“Where have you been?” asked Reldrin, a nibey who also lived in Temple View Heights.

“Around?” I said. “What’s the matter?”

“Sanmino’s been captured by Nuharas,” said Flaannin.

“How?” I asked.

Sanmino seldom left and never alone.

“We don’t know,” sobbed Holmiath.

“They want to talk to you to negotiate her release,” said Flaannin. “We’re late already!”

“You must never ever aloweth others to controlleth you by threatening people!” said Dwendra.

“You’re just going to let the bastards keep raping her?” asked Flaannin. “Her father was almost certainly killed by them. We’re not sure, but she almost certainly saw her mother being raped and killed by them and was raped herself.”

“There art other options,” said Dwendra.

“We don’t know where they’re holding her,” said Flaannin. “Anyway what do you suggest, free her by force and give them more excuses to attack Winemakers, even if you succeed.”

“There’s some use in knowing what your enemy wants you to know,” said Vrenloa.

“Where do they want to meet me?” I asked.

“In the cave of Holdian,” said Flaannin. “It’s not far ...”

“I know where it is!”

It was almost directly down the hill from Temple View Heights, Rendamar’s Trulist Holy Site.

“Thou art not going!” said Dwendra.

“The Nuharas will respect the sanctity of the cave,” said Flaannin.

“I’ll find out what they want and be right back to tell you,” I said, stepping out the door.

“I knew you’d see sense,” said Flaannin as we walked towards the gate. “I have a lot of respect for your father but Buxnir liked you, likes you, which rather made me think you were more of a fundamentalist.”

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