[Lyra Greenleaf]

Sammael walked quietly in the heat of the sunlight. He could feel Damodred’s presence just behind his left shoulder but felt no need for conversation. He was thinking deeply about the coming journey. Currents ran deep and strong between the members of the party and he had no wish to drown in the parched desert. He grinned to himself at the thought. Even my serious thoughts do not remain serious overlong! he thought lightly.

He realised that many thought him a fool. Zasfal, for example, and the charming sea captain. Zasfal had been planted to discover any secrets which Sammael would be foolish enough to blurt out- well he was welcome to what he had got and more if he wished. There was history between the sea captain and the Priestess, although that display yesterday had been as baffling as it was enlightening. As if that was not enough the tribesman they were taking along was apparently trying to catch the attention of the other priestesses. Now there’s a fool if any man is one, Sammael pondered.
I just hope that it does not go too far. A Priestess of the Eye, her clothes still bearing traces of blood is a truly foolish target no matter how beauteous she is, and we could do with as little killing as possible on our own side.

The team of acrobats had changed from their ridiculous attire into more normal desert wear. Another interesting development had been that the Priestess Sevora had put him in joint charge of the troops with the sea captain. Perhaps someone had been watching his sign of devotion to the Eye, perhaps she had seen better than most that Sammael was no man’s fool, or perhaps it was simply to annoy the sea captain. Whatever the reason it was a golden opportunity. A slow grin spread over Sammael’s face. It had not escaped his attention that this set him over Zasfal.

"One hour! before she puts the old man in his place" Zasfal said in front of him. Following the man’s gaze Sammael saw that the strange tribesman had continued his efforts.
"Nay, I say longer , she is of the order and she should have more restraint than most" the sea captain answered.
"And what say you?" Zasfal asked, turning to Sammael with a smile that was as false as ever.
Sammael put his hand to his head as if to consider. “I say that you should not talk so of your- employers. ” He lowered his voice conspiratorially. “Especially if they may be listening to you” he whispered with a nod towards the priestess whose hand tightened visibly on her dagger at the sound of their wager. “And Zasfal, I must say your acrobats look far better out of uniform”

With a laugh Sammael tipped his head to the two men and increased his pace. The woman with big eyes and delusions of fighting was ahead, walking alone. And she had none of the power of the priestess. What she did have was secrets.
Wouldn’t it be amusing to find out what? Sammael considered. I wonder how I should approach it? She seems immune to my smile but who knows, many a woman has fallen for it before!

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Essenia heard the sound of quickening footsteps behind her with little emotion. She still felt detached from what was in her head and body. The beating sun barely registered and neither did the hand on her shoulder. Turning she saw the man with no hair. It would have made little difference if it was the man with curly hair. All men were fools. Essenia was grateful that there were women on this journey. The priestesses had power, influence and respect. They were lucky, no man would follow them. They would need no man. She thought exultantly of the life she would lead in such a position. She had seen the dried blood on their hands and faces and wondered if they had done the killing themselves.

It had been a while since she felt the power of taking life, watching as blood left the body and light faded from its eyes. Too long, in fact. Hopefully this would give her the chance. They were supposed to convert the tribes to the Dark Religion, she had been told, and only kill those who resisted. Her blood boiled at the order. If they converted, they would keep their land. This was supposed to be about getting more territory, more influence for the Haradrim. They were not going to deny her the chance. They would not.

“-that”
The word floated dimly into Essenia’s consciousness. The man walking beside her had stopped talking and was looking at her, clearly expecting a response. Essenia didn’t know or care what he had said. He could wait forever. She would get her chance to kill again, for the glory of Umbar. She breathed deeply, almost catching the tang of fresh spilt blood. Almost. They would not deny her.