Chapter No. 36 Animus

I indeed baptize you with water unto repentance:

The chirps of crickets filled a crisp air. The last gleaming of light cast long crimson shadows across grasses gently caressed by a night breeze. Venus blazed brilliantly over a blanket of darkness that flowed over the Astrion Mesa.

Dressed only in a white cotton robe, Mara slowly walked across cold stone in her bare feet. Pausing to bow her head, she knelt down and prostrated herself. Only the muted sounds of the night broke her silent prayer.

Morton looked in at her from an open door to the Chamber of Life. Many a knight had come here to pray to whatever god they believed in, to ask this god for success in combat. It was the prudent thing to do before a big battle.

But, Mara wasn't here to ask for success. She was here to get in touch with her inner self, to discern the inner devils that tormented her. To be ultimately successful, she had to expurgate them from her soul, so that she could become the master of her own fate, even though her fate was not in her own hands.

Mara sat quietly on a hard wooden bench, her hands folded on her lap, her head bowed. She listened without comment or argument.

"You must rid yourself of anger," Morton told her in a soft but firm voice. "Anger detracts from concentration. Ill spirit causes you to make mistakes, and mistakes can be costly. The first step in your final training is to allow your anger to dissipate. I know that you have much to be angry about, but you cannot allow your anger to consume you. Your anger and your desire for revenge are your real enemies. Defeat them and you will be on the road to becoming a great warrior.

"You are a very good warrior, but to become a great warrior, you must be able to concentrate without distractions, to focus on your enemy with no emotional feelings. You have the strength and agility, but you lack this focus.

"Focus is something ethereal in a warrior. It is the ability to act without thought, to act without decision, to act without feeling. Actions must become instinctive, a part of your very being. Some achieve this focus from the inner peace of meditation. Others pray to a god or gods. Achieving this focus is paramount, regardless of how it is done.

"I am certain that you have undergone some transformation to become what you are. Now, I believe, you must undergo a second transformation to become what you must.

"This transformation will not be a physical one as in your first. It will be a spiritual metamorphosis, an ascension to a new plane of being."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "I have no idea how this new transformation will take place. I can't help you go there."

She looked up at him. "You have been of immeasurable help to me, but I will find it myself."

He smiled at her. "I have no doubt that you will, but I have a few more things to help you in your quest."

"I am at your bidding," she said.

"Come then," he said, standing up.

They walked down a long corridor to a door that looked as if it hadn't been opened in a long time. In fact, Morton struggled to open it, but with Mara's help it squeaked open to reveal a stairway that went down into darkness. With torches in hand, the two descended the stone stairs to a round chamber with a small pool of water fed from a stone gargoyle, an ugly gnome that seemed more a joke than a practical contrivance. Water gurgled from its ugly mouth, splashing into a pool that was about the size of a good Jacuzzi and spilling over onto the stone floor at the back.

Morton pulled an old leather-bound book from a shelf cut into stone at the back of the chamber and blew the dust from it. He gestured to the pool.

"As you emerged from your mother's womb, so you must enter these waters of rebirth and die to your spiritual defects. When you remerge, you will be born anew."

She gave him a bewildered look.

"It's quite simple. First, you take your robe off and then you enter the water. I will pour water on you and say the words of redemption before you submerge. After a few minutes, you come back up." He held a finger up. "But, I must warn you that the water is quite cold. You will suffer, but it is suffering that will purify you."

She pushed her hand below the surface, and retracted it just as quickly. "You are precise in your prediction of pain."

He cracked a smile before showing her a serious face. "You will have the honor of undergoing a ritual that only a few great warriors have even known about."

"What is this ritual called?"

"The Right of Spiritual Purification," he said, reading it from the book. "It has existed for a long time. No one knows how long."

Mara looked at the pool and then at him. "I will comply."

She unhooked her robe and allowed it to fall from her body. In the warm light of fire, her skin glowed with a soft yellow sheen, blending out the muscle definition into smooth velvet. Morton admired her fine form as she deliberately climbed into the pool.

Her grimace told of the pain of ice-cold water against her flesh. She stood in the water up to her waist and folded her arms around her breasts. Her muscles began to shiver with violent suddenness, shuddering and shimmering in cycles around her body.

Morton filled a pan with water and poured it over her head, making her shiver all the more. Water cascaded over her face and down her body in rivulets that caused her to shake as if in palsy.

"In nómine Patris, et Fílii, et Spíritus Sancti," he said, reading with deliberate slowness from the old book. "Emítte lucem tuam, et verítátem tuam."

When he was finished pouring, he pushed her down into the water by placing his hand on her head. She disappeared under the water and after five minutes emerged in a burst of splashing water. She stood in the water, shaking violently and huffing from intense pain. He allowed her to suffer a bit longer.

"Come out, my child," Morton said, offering her his hand, "and enjoy a new life of purity."

She wasted no time in getting out of the pool. When she reached for her robe, Morton gently placed it around her shivering body.

"If I were you, I would run up these stairs and then up and down the corridor for a time to warm up."

She nodded and took off up the stairs so fast, she startled Morton. He smiled to himself when he heard her feet slapping stone with frantic repetition.

###

Mara strolled back toward her quarters with a pace that seemed tentative and contemplative. Stars blazed above with a cold inexorable brightness. A full moon wallowed on the horizon, casting long shadows.

Out of these shadows, sprung a short burly man. Mara stopped and stood still.

"Well, bitch," Sir Volta growled. "You've been to see that loony bird Morton, I see. Did he fill your head with all his spiritual nonsense?"

"That is not your concern," she said without inflection.

"I care not, bitch," he shot back. "What concerns me is your befriending that Estard bitch."

"Is every woman a bitch to you?" she asked.

"Only those who choose to defy men," he said.

"Estard defies the empire. I see no reason to punish her for that."

"She has tortured and slain many of our friends," he said. "She deserves to die."

"You have no authority to execute her," she said.

He drew his sword and menaced her with it. "This is my authority, bitch."

"If you kill her, I will kill you," Mara warned him.

He swung his sword, barely missing her. "We will see about that, bitch."

Mara never flinched when Volta's sword came within a hair's breath of cutting her throat. Her eyes remained steady and unblinking, her jaw set with firm determination. No sign of fear, no indication of concern. She had the look of a pure killer.

Hilton appeared from behind a tree. "Do you make it a practice to challenge unarmed knights?"

Sir Volta swirled around. "Ah, it is Sir Hilton, bewitched by Sir Mara, the witch."

Hilton drew his sword. "I would hold your disrespectful tongue, if I were you."

Volta motioned with his left hand. "Come on. Let's see how good you are."

Mara jumped on him, pulling him to the ground. The force of the collision was so great that he lost the grip on his sword. She was up with it in her hand before he could get back up. She tossed it into bushes.

"Go and leave us," she ordered him, "or I will allow young Hilton here to kill you now."

He gave her a serious glare before he ran off.

"You certainly take liberty with your life," Hilton said to her.

"It seems that I am not yet the master of my fate," she said.

She started walking toward the tent.
Hilton caught up and joined her.
"You talk in strange conundrums," Hilton said.

"I mean no deception or obfuscation. My time has not yet come."

"Your time? What are you talking about?"

"Don't you see what is happening?" she said. "The turning point is at hand. The fate of the rebel cause will soon be determined."

"You know something I don't?"

"The Empire is building up at the edge of the Plain of Arkanon. This is the opportunity that we've been waiting for."

Hilton frowned. "If what you say is true, we will soon be in the biggest battle of the war."

Mara smiled. "Yes. Isn't it wonderful."

He shook his head. How could she be so ecstatic about a major battle?