*

  Midmorning was well passed before the trial resumed. Treston had rushed a doctor to the girl’s aid, fearing she was dying. The doctor sutured a deep cut in Ishtar’s side and fed her some hot herb tea followed by some chicken broth. Somehow, much to everyone’s surprise, the girl not only survived, but also recovered rapidly enough to manage a return to the judicial chambers on her own feet.

  Claudesius was again upon the judgment throne, silently observing the child. Ishtar stood quietly, favoring her left side, racked with pain, her eyes fastened on the governor’s.

  As he studied Ishtar’s demeanor, Claudesius’ ravenous passion for the girl exploded once more. His palms began to sweat as an ache grew in his groin. He must have the girl! Her cuts and bruises only intensified the man’s desire to ravage her. But now the hour was late. In a short time, Ishtar would have to appear in the arena, Cephas’ test but a few hours future. The thought of losing the girl to death was too much for him. He must do something to prevent her execution, at least for this day.

  “My child…” he began, being so careful to salve over any misimpressions the girl might have earlier had. “My child, my heart aches over this morning’s unfortunate events. I accept full responsibility for my actions, you being completely innocent. Let me explain, please. You see, I look upon you like my own daughter. I have one, so beautiful she is, her years but fifteen. She would like you.”

  He leaned forward, eyes beseeching, voice pleading. “I fear for your safety and want to do everything I can to help you. I acted out of frustration and not anger. My frustration led to my inappropriate actions.”

  Ishtar said nothing.

  Disappointed at the girl’s lack of response, but hopeful he could still win her over, Claudesius went on to describe the ordeal of a public execution. “Have you ever been to the arena?” He waited but received no reply. “I thought not. The arena is where criminals, villains, and… and enemies of the state are sent to be put to death, their crimes and punishments put on display for all the people to see. It is done in a way so as to discourage others from following along in the same evil paths of those being brought to justice. The way the criminal dies must be most gruesome and painful, acting as a deterrent for others.”

  Ishtar remained calm, silent and calm.

  “One of the more torturous ways of death - one that is reserved for crimes such as those you have been charged with - is that of being torn apart by dogs. One does not die quickly when suffering this fate. No! No! It is a long, drawn-out procedure because the punishment is designed to fit the very vile nature of the crime.”

  “My child, you must understand, these are not ordinary animals, but specially trained to do damage without taking life, maiming and disfiguring their primary purpose. Progressively, one will be released at a time, each dog intended to do specific damage. Slowly, one after another, your extremities will be torn and consumed, you being eaten alive while lying there, writhing in agony. They will devour hands and feet and then groin, thighs and breasts. One or more will eviscerate you, all while the others are busy at their tasks. Yet you will live, screaming for mercy. None will come. Eventually, another dog will be released. You eyes, nose, ears and face will be ripped away, but you will remain alive, living in a silent world with no mouth to cry out for help.”

  “And finally, after possibly hours of torment, when life is waning, the executioner dog will be released. It will tear out your throat, bringing to a finish what the other dogs started. And then your body and its scattered parts will be gathered up and returned to your family, who will have to decide what to do with you, no one else daring to assist with your remains.”

  “Think, my child, think of the suffering of your grieving mother as she has to bathe your shattered body for burial. And what about the agony she will have to endure as she watches the dogs eating her only child?” Claudesius reached out with opened arms, palms up. “All this could have been avoided by your willingness to come under the shelter of my humble home and accepting my hospitality.”

  Ishtar leaned forward, squinting, defiant. She placed her hands on her hips, asking, “So, while you’re tenderly protecting me here, who will you be sending to tempt my uncle… your scullery maid… or possibly your own daughter?”

  Claudesius clenched the arms of his chair, rage growing in his eyes. Who had told this child about Cephas?! Only his trusted officers knew of those plans. He eyed Treston. No, he doubted that Treston would be so bold. The man had lived too long under the governor’s rule by understanding the loyalty demanded for survival in this house. Still, he would have a serious talk with the man at a later time.

  Then a troubling thought crossed the governor’s mind. What if Ishtar truly was a goddess sent to test him out? What if an angel did give her that dress and secret knowledge concerning the governor? Although troubled with growing doubt and fear, he could not help but to push the issue with the girl, he wanting her more by the moment.

  “What do you have to say?” Claudesius asked, his frustration growing.

  Ishtar stood back, her arms to her side. Not a word did she speak.

  The governor angrily chided, “I see you’re too stupid to fear for your own death! What do you have to say concerning your uncle’s, the man who calls you 'daughter'?”

  Ishtar’s lips curled as she made rebuke. “You will not lay a hand on that man this day! For should you try, the fiery rage of my God will come down upon you, consigning you and your family to the wiles of that fat man! And your carcass will be cast into the very cesspools used to hide your own perverted handiwork on little children!”

  “I will kill you!” Claudesius sprung from his chair. “Insolent bitch!” He screamed. His fist went high in the air and froze, chest heaving. Something was not right.

  A smile… a serene smile shone on Ishtar’s face. She was goading him on. Her eyes spoke to his. ‘Kill me and let it all end here...your hopes, your dreams, your ambitions. They will end with me… all end here with me.’

  Claudesius almost stumbled as he backed away, shaken. The girl was smart. Should he kill her now, where would it leave matters with Cephas? Cephas must surrender to the governor’s demands or all would be for naught. What would Ogust think, seeing his brags come to nothing? Would he be entertaining them this eve?

  The voice in the back of Claudesius’ head cautioned, ‘Too late, mustn’t kill it now. Not now. Break its will. Make it surrender its faith! You know how to do it. You know who to use. Break it! Break it! Then… then it will surrender to your will and you can have it for yourself.’ The voice crooned reassuringly, ‘You can save it from the dogs. You know how, have done it before. Then it will be yours forever! Do it! Do it!’

  Claudesius continued to listen to the persuasive words echoing in his head. He rubbed his chin in thought. “Umm...” He nodded and smiled. Yes, it would work. He would have success. Turning to his house lieutenant, he asked, “Is everything ready?”

  The man bowed. “As you have requested, my Lord.”

  “Good! At least one of my servants respects me.” He eyed Treston. Then, folding his hands piously in a polite manner, Claudesius addressed Ishtar. “You are a strong-willed woman, but not yet tested to fitness. Soon we shall see what you are about… are about.”

  Pointing toward the statue, Claudesius ordered his house lieutenant to gather it all up and follow along. Then, in a chiding voice, he asked Treston if he was up to obeying orders.

  Shaken, Treston bowed. “Yes, my Lord. Whatever is your wish, I shall do.”

  “Good!” Claudesius grinned. “Take this… this thing to the pits. I have a lesson to teach it, and you will see to it the carrying of that lesson out. Bring your guards and we shall be on our way.”

  Behind the palace, near the back of the prison’s second level, there had at one time been a series of pits dug for housing animals. Mostly abandon in later years, Treston kept a few
large cats to ‘help keep the prison tidy’ as he would say. Today there were an additional six large beasts recently arrived for the circus, there being no more space at the arena.

  ‘How fortuitous.’ Claudesius thought, as he followed along in the little procession. He smiled to think how hungry they must be after such a long journey from the wilds. ‘The girl will certainly be impressed when seeing them.’

  Treston walked Ishtar up to the edge of one on the pits so that she could personally see the half-starved cats. He stood behind her, his hands firmly gripping the girl’s upper arms. Treston was also cautious to keep a steady balance and a wary eye. There had been more than one careless jailer shoved to his death when a prisoner had lunged into a pit.

  Ishtar was definitely affected by the sight of hungry animals jumping at her, hearing their voracious growls. Indirect lighting coming from narrow windows high up on the outer wall reflected little beads of sweat glistening on her skin and tiny tremors racing through her body. She turned her face away from the pit only to find herself staring into the governor’s grinning face.

  “We shall now see what you’re really about. You may not fear your own death, though I like to think differently after watching you…but what about?” He looked into the shadows, motioning for others to come forward.

  At that instant, a lonely emptiness began growing in the girl’s chest, spreading in a flash throughout her entire body. From nowhere, a paralyzing fear reached out to take possession of her soul. It was as if she was being abandoned upon the field of battle, all her companions having run away. She suddenly felt alone with no support. Crying out in her mind to her God brought no relief. Even He had left her. As the terror of the moment grew within her, Ishtar stared wild-eyed at the ghostly shapes approaching from the shadows.