The Inquisitor and the Priestess

Tamar sat and gauged Shamuel’s response. She knew he’d come eventually and here he was. In all his Inquisition glory, she thought. The years had not been kind to the man’s frame. Pale skin sagged and his once glorious red hair seemed dim and wiry. It was rumored in priestly circles that he hated when people stood above him. As Boaz pushed him into the room she stood her place. She calmed her thoughts and breathed deeply. She was completely aware of her physical presence.

“Please Tamar, sit” said Shamuel as he motioned to the settee behind her. She breathed deeply again. Aware of the softness of her hair, the fullness of her stomach from the meal she had eaten, and how her skin felt in the air-conditioned room. She did not answer him. She did not sit. “Tsk, Tamar, I thought we had much to discuss. Will you discuss it all standing?” Shamual now had a jovial grin on his face and it portrayed friendship and a good-natured spirit. Tamar breathed and watched him. His face twitched slightly in the corner of his smile- it betrayed him.

She looked away from Shamuel and into his servants eyes, “Boaz, you have started your tattoos?” was Tamar’s only response. Boaz paused not knowing what to do. He was not addressed often. He stuttered, caught himself and responded, “Yes priestess, my training is going well. They are painful but I am blessed for the reminder of limitedness of the physical.”

The canned response was expected and well versed but the interaction was awkwardly painful. She nodded slightly in approval anyway and responded with gentle encouragement. “May you remember your limitedness in the glories of the Tri-verse, young priest. May you not be swayed by the physical desires of this body. I pray you resist temptation of the spirit from those that may pressure you.” The words spoken meant something and Boaz knew it. His eyes widened, but how could she know?! The thought was barely out when Shamuel lost his patience.

“ALRIGHT! Enough Tamar! Sit! You will be questioned and you will obey or you will be dismissed!” It was only when he lost his demeanor that Tamar sat down. She smiled slightly, moved her habit in the fashionable way and sat upon the expensively upholstered seat. Boaz pushed Shamuel in front of her and he was dismissed harshly and suddenly. He left, feeling flustered, shutting the door on the pair he leaned against the outside of it and breathed. His secret, she knew it. How could she know it?

Shamuel placed his hand on his skinny knees and stared into her green flecked eyes. “You do not scare me Tamar,” he said softly. She looked at his pale skin, and weakened body and smiled. With a genuine giggle she said, “Oh Shamuel, you silly old Inquisitor, I had no intention of scaring anyone.” He’d never been spoken too in such a way once again he was off his guard. Who was this priestess?