The Whispers of the Goddess Maiwi
Angro’s POV
Zania grabbed my arm when she realized what I was about to do, but she couldn’t hold me back, and I answered Chief Owan’s question when I noticed Shaira was about to condemn herself.
I don’t know where the idea came from, but in that instant, I claimed that the young eteri was not one.
It was a last-minute idea, and it seemed to work.
It planted doubt in everyone, especially the great chief.
What I didn’t anticipate were Omawit’s words, who, of course, wasn’t going to let me take his slave. He had already made up his mind to lie with her that night in the privacy of his hut; she was a young woman who, despite being an eteri, was extremely attractive and, because of her youth, perhaps even a virgin. She was an enticing prize that Omawit would not easily give up.
His argument paralyzed me.
“Then why did you try to claim her before, when you saw that I did?”
I felt nervous, and he must have noticed because he smiled maliciously.
Chief Owan’s warning that followed didn’t make me feel any better.
“If you have lied, the iron will brand your cheek, and you will no longer be worthy of marrying my daughter.”
I could have retracted at that moment. I could have claimed I had confused the circumstances and acted on an impression or misinterpretation of the facts, that what I said about the young eteri was a supposition, not a fact—any argument would have been valid to step aside and avoid punishment. But if I were to do so, I had to withdraw immediately.
But I didn’t.
I wasn’t going to let that scoundrel Omawit defile Shaira, use her as his sexual toy until he tired of her, and then, after destroying her, sell her like a used object to someone else who also wanted to abuse her—because he would never sell her to me or anyone close to me. Omawit would make sure to sell her to someone he knew would continue hurting her because he had already seen my interest in the girl and that her pain would also be mine.
I took another risk and insisted I wasn’t lying.
I would rescue Shaira, even if it meant putting my honor at risk.
Everyone awaited my response. The silence was absolute. The attention of everyone present was on me, including Shaira, who looked at me with the eyes of a fawn hoping to be freed from the trap it had fallen into.
I took a deep breath and responded, guided by Maiwi, the Goddess of Wisdom.
“I didn’t claim her, Omawit, simply because she cannot be claimed. When I heard you do so, I tried to warn you of the mistake you were making, but you were so excited about your reward that you would have dismissed any word I might have spoken to you. So I preferred to wait until now to tell you, and in the presence of our chief and the entire tribe, reveal to you that she, this young woman you have mistaken for an eteri, is not one.”
Omawit’s smug expression faded with each of my words, whispered in my ear by the goddess Maiwi, because there was no other explanation for how I had come up with that argument.
“No, no, that’s not true,” Omawit responded, completely flustered. “She’s an eteri, this bitch is an eteri!” Omawit lunged at Shaira, his fist raised and ready to strike her hard.
I stopped him, grabbing his wrist before he could land the blow on the young woman’s face. She raised her arms to defend herself, feeling humiliated as she stood naked after Omawit had torn off her last piece of clothing.
“Are you going to hit an opranchi woman?” I said loud enough for everyone to hear. “You know the penalty for doing so is to be flogged and spend three days in the stocks.”
Omawit held back. He had no choice.
“Prove it,” he said in a final act of submission.
“What?” I asked.
“Prove that she is truly an opranchi woman and not an eteri,” Omawit insisted, defiantly.
I saw his eyes turn to the chief, who was standing beside us. I turned and saw in Owan’s eyes that the chief had made a decision.
Everyone fell silent, waiting for our leader’s words.
“I have heard enough in this case,” Owan said. “I don’t believe it is necessary to say more because I have reached a decision.”
My eyes met Shaira’s, who had once again covered her breasts with her arms. The poor girl was still frightened, and if I was nervous about what our elder leader was going to say, I couldn’t imagine what she must have been feeling at that moment. Terror must have been nesting in her chest, paralyzing her body, and swirling her mind with all sorts of unimaginable horrors. Shaira’s plight wrenched my heart, and I swore that whatever Owan’s decision was, I would do everything in my power, and beyond, to save her. I wouldn’t let Omawit lay a hand on her. I would rather be killed, if necessary, but that wretch wouldn’t touch a hair on her head.
I swore it in my mind at that moment, in the name of Towet, the God of Justice and Righteous Vengeance.
“Since there is doubt as to whether the young woman is an opranchi or an eteri,” Owan said, pulling me out of my thoughts, “I will allow a reasonable time for an investigation to be conducted and for evidence to be presented regarding either condition.”
I took a deep breath. I knew I was nervous, and my breathing was becoming labored. Owan’s first words gave me hope, but they were not yet conclusive.
“While the investigation is underway, the young woman will remain in the Tahuri, the house of custody, until the truth is determined.”
I exhaled the breath I had been holding in my chest.
It was a victory.
It wasn’t definitive, but at least it took Shaira out of Omawit’s hands for a while—enough time for me to come up with and execute a plan to free her.
“My right of war is being taken away,” Omawit protested furiously. “She’s not an opranchi; this is all a trick, a deception. Angro is deceiving all of us, not just me, great chief. He’s deceiving you too. Your son-in-law is mocking you, Owan; he’s deceiving you, mocking all of us, making fools of us.”
Omawit’s angry protests would have continued if not for Owan, who told him to be quiet.
“If what you say is true, Omawit, if the investigation reveals that Angro has deceived and lied to us in this sacred place, he will have committed the gravest offense and will deserve the most terrible punishment.”
Owan didn’t specify what the punishment was, but he didn’t need to. We all knew what it was. It was live flaying, a punishment so terrible that it hadn’t been carried out for at least three generations.
The chief’s final words brought some satisfaction back to Omawit, who looked at me again, his eyes filled with the hatred and resentment he reserved only for me.
“Very well, great chief, I agree with that. Let no time be wasted, and let the investigation begin,” he said, looking at me. Then he approached and, whispering in my ear, said, “I’ll ask to be the one to run the knife across your skin, Angro, and strip it off the same way you’re stripping away the night of pleasure I had planned with the eteri. I don’t know why you’ve done this, but I’m sure there’s someone dying to hear your explanation, and right now, she doesn’t look very satisfied.”
I saw Omawit’s gaze turn to Amari, who, at that moment, with her arms crossed and her eyes clouded, was watching me.
Before addressing my fiancée, I watched as Shaira was led out of the assembly house under the custody of the guards, now free of the vines that had bound her.
“What was all that, Angro?” Amari asked when I approached her. “Why did you risk yourself like that for her? Who is this young woman you’ve exposed your life for and, by extension, mine?”
Now I faced an interrogation far more intense and dangerous than the one I had just narrowly escaped.