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Priestess of the Flame
by
She wore a simple garment of thin, shimmering stuff, diaphanous as finest silk. It was black, caught at one shoulder with a flashing green stone. The other shoulder was bared, and the black garment was a perfect foil for the whiteness of her perfect skin, her amazing blue eyes, and the pale gold of her hair.
She lifted one hand in a slight gesture as our conductors paused before the dais; they fell away and formed a close cordon behind us.
“We have awaited your coming,” she said in her sibilant voice. “And you are here.”
“We are here,” I said sternly, “representing, through our Service, the Supreme Council of the universe. What word shall we take back to those who sent us?”
Liane smiled, a slow, cruel smile. The pink fingers of one hand tapped gently on the carven arm of her throne. The eyes of the semicircle of old men watched us with unwavering hatred.
“The word you carry will be a good word,” she said slowly. “Liane has decided to be gracious–and yet it is well that you have full understanding of Liane’s power. For while the word Liane shall give you to bear back is a good word, still, Liane is but a woman, and women have been known to change their minds. Is that not so, Commander Hanson?”
“That is so, Liane,” I nodded. “And we are glad to hear that your wisdom has led you to be gracious.”
She leaned forward suddenly, her eyes flashing with anger.
“Mark you, it is not wisdom but a whim of mine which causes me to be graciously minded!” she cried. “Think you that Liane is afraid? Look about you!”
* * * * *
We turned slowly and cast our eyes about that great gathering. As far as the eye could reach, in every direction, was a sea of faces. And as we looked, the door through which we had entered this great hall was flung open, and a crowd of tiny specks came surging in.
“And still they come, at Liane’s command,” she laughed. “They are those who played, to disarm your suspicions, at blocking your entry to this place. They did but follow you, a safe distance behind.”
“I thought so,” murmured Correy. “Things were going too smoothly. That was what we heard, sir.”
I nodded, and looked up at Liane.
“You have many followers,” I said. “Yet this is but a small world, and behind the Council are all the worlds of the universe.”
Liane threw back her head and laughed, a soft, tinkling sound that rose clearly above the hollow roar of the mighty flame behind her throne.
“You speak bravely,” she said, “knowing that Liane holds the upper hand. Did your Council take armed action against us, we would blow up these caverns which are the source of your precious temite, and bury it so deeply no force that could live here could extract it in the quantities in which the universe needs it.
“But enough of this exchange of sharp words. Liane has already said that she is disposed to be gracious. Does that not content you?”
“I will bear back to those who sent me whatever word you have to offer; it is not for me to judge its graciousness,” I said coolly.
“Then–but first, let me show you how well I rule here,” she said. She spoke to one of the old men seated at her feet; he arose and disappeared in a passage leading from directly beneath the dais.
“You will see, presently, the punishment of Liane,” she said smilingly. “Liane, Chief Priestess of the Flame, Mother of Life, Giver of Death, Most Worshiped of the Worshipers.
“Perhaps you wonder how it came that Liane sits here in judgment upon a whole people? Let me tell you, while we await the execution of Liane’s judgment.