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The class was disruptive that day, and Cabirius had little patience for the giggling Novices. Each day dragged on so slowly this season, bleak and cold. It was nearly Midwinter and the daylight was brief. His mind wandered constantly, and his concentration was failing. He could think of nothing but his lover, Cybele, the Chosen One. Why she insisted on such secrecy, he understood not. They seemed to have so little time together, furtive embraces late at night when the whole village was abed. He had read the small ancient book of the Chosen Ones over a hundred times, but found in it no barrier to their love being declared before all. In fact, it seemed that many of the Chosen Ones had lived openly with their Consort, a Priest, or even another Priestess. But then, there had been no Chosen One for many generations until Cybele, and so she was still finding her place to some degree. She was therefore playing her hand safely so that none could contest her right. When he stole to her hut after the moon had set, she was always very pleased for his company. She eagerly sought his counsel on all matters of politics and her leadership of the Temple. But over these past weeks, she had been less and less interested in taking him into her bed. He knew that he was not the most accomplished of lovers - he had little experience and was always so overly eager for her touch that he spilled too quickly. But he knew that she thought fondly of him and sought most of all his gentle embraces. She had to endure ritual coupling at ceremonies with her virtual enemy, Attis, who had been chosen as Consort. Perhaps this was why she seemed to enjoy the act itself so little. Cabirius thought it seemed a chore to her despite her sweet pretences to the contrary when they did couple together. He felt a beast to urge her to it if she sought it not from him, and so often had need to do service to Priapus alone in his own bed after creeping away from her before the dawn. He felt a little resentment now for Attis. They had been closest of friends before Cybele, but now their friendship was strained. Attis blamed Cybele for his lost chance at love with Cabirius. He had wanted Cabirius himself as lover, but Cabirius had forsaken him for the touch of the woman. The Goddess, for her own idle amusement, had chosen Attis as Consort when he was personally reluctant for the opposite sex. The young Priest had been required to act as Priapus for at least four moon's ceremonies, sometimes servicing more than one Priestess in the Goddess's guise. It was no wonder he was a little cruel to Cybele when they chanced to meet, as his being chosen Consort had been partly her doing and he enjoyed the privilege not at all. But Cabirius loved Cybele well, and would prefer if his friend were a little kinder to her. He still spent time with Attis, trying to teach him letters in the small hut beside the classroom after the Novices' daily classes. After so many months of tuition, Cabirius was beginning to think that Attis would never learn to write even his own name. He was making a little more progress with reading, but the script had to be very clear and straight. At least Cabirius felt now that Attis's commitment to the lessons was for their own sake, rather than as an excuse merely to be close to him. Before Cybele, Attis had often let his hand lie too long on Cabirius's thigh as they sat at the desk. Cabirius was becoming inattentive to his class of Novices, and they were taking full advantage of the situation, chattering loudly amongst themselves. Thomias, the older teacher, had come into the hut to see what the disturbance was. Cabirius had been pulled from his day-dream by his entry, and called to one of the leaders of the unrest that he would speak to her at the front of the class. Kelle approached him with swaggering confidence. She was the oldest of all the Novices, and at fifteen only a year younger than Cybele. He had little power to control Kelle's rebelliousness in class, as she had a secret shared with him that he did not wish disclosed. Of course, teachers had bedded their students since letters were first written on a slate, but Cabirius felt sensitive on the issue, and his one error with Kelle now made him feel intensely vulnerable. Cybele had forgiven him his indiscretion with Attis, but he would rather keep from her the knowledge of this other. Kelle came close up to Cabirius, almost to touching. The rest of the Novices were tittering all the louder, and he wanted not to make a fool of himself in front of the other Priest. 'Is something wrong, Kelle, that you cannot remain attentive for more than ten heartbeats?' he asked too loudly for the small distance that separated them. He was angry at himself that he had over these months completely lost control of the class. He had been holding on in the hope that Kelle would soon leave the class to become an Initiate with the Priestesses, or leave the Temple for a villager's life. But still she was here, beyond all others, causing him such grief. She spoke back to him in a voice so quiet as to almost be a whisper. 'Is there something wrong with you, my teacher, that you cannot remain attentive yourself?' 'Hold your tongue, child!' he growled, but she continued, so quietly none could hear even though they well tried. 'Perhaps it is because your lover spends time in the bed of another and you grow frustrated?' Cabirius was aghast. How could Kelle know even that he had a lover? He had been so careful. But then, perhaps she had been waiting and following unseen him in the night. But to suggest that Cybele was unfaithful?! He was furious, and lost his temper completely. 'I said to hold your tongue, you foul-mouthed little cat!' Cabirius cried, and even raised his hand to strike her before catching himself short. He was horrified at his own display, and in front of another teacher, as well. Kelle had not moved, and stood not five hands from him. 'I lie to you not, I have seen them with my own cat's eyes,' she whispered, before spinning on her heel and returning to her stool. Cabirius took breath and clumsily continued with the lesson, and Thomias left shortly afterward. He dismissed the class early, but told Kelle that she was to stay behind. When they were alone, and Kelle's curious friends lingered no more, Cabirius took a stool beside her. His anger simmered still, but he had to find how and what she knew of his trysts with Cybele. As far as he thought, only Attis and Annia had knowledge of their affair, and he trusted them both well. 'Do you make up such a tale to taunt me, Kelle? I know I should have touched you not, but if you remember rightly, I was the more reluctant partner.' 'I remember very well, my rough and urgent one, but I remember we neither as reluctant. I bear you no ill thought, unless it was that you only had me the once.' Kelle smiled at him seductively. 'Well, how know you my lover?' he demanded. 'I have eyes to see, do I not? You take not enough care with your meetings, and it is a wonder all do not know of it. But then, perhaps others know not of your tastes as well as I.' 'Then you spy on me. For what purpose, to have more power over me and make me a hopeless fool in front of the whole class?' 'You make yourself the fool if you do not see what goes on under your very nose.' 'What mean you? I have no reason to doubt my lover's loyalty.' 'I have seen them with my own eyes, just out of bed in the Chosen One's hut, washing a Herm bold as you please!' 'You lie!' he cried. 'How would you know of this?' 'I chanced upon them when Arithea died. I went to seek the Chosen One as you requested, and there he was.' 'Who?' he demanded. She looked confused. 'Why, your lover of course!' He felt a little lost suddenly, and grasped at the hope that she was wrong in this, so she could be wrong in all. Then he remembered in horror who she had assumed to be his other lover when the two of them had coupled. 'Is Attis not your lover still?' she continued. 'You closet away with him so often and pretend tuition, but all know the Consort cannot write as well as a babe of six.' 'No...' he said hoarsely. Kelle bit her lip and seemed truly contrite. 'Then I apologise. I honestly thought.. I am sorry, I caused you unfounded distress. Beside, even if he was your lover, all know that he couples with her in the Temple, so what is the harm if they continue in private?' He remembered that day so well himself, even though it was a season ago. He remembered even the Herm, which he had found in the bed. It was the first time that he had truly coupled with Cybele himself, and he could not even begin to comprehend that she had taken another to her bed already that day, least of all Attis. He felt numb. 'How know you it was not just the once, then?' he asked slowly. 'You know I often avoid my own classes. I am so much longer here than any other, and I grow bored. I wander in the gardens, to know of herbs and flowers. I wish to be a Healer, remember, as soon as I am allowed. You challenge me not for avoiding classes.' 'I am glad to be rid of you, you cause such unrest,' he agreed. 'Well you know also that the hut of the Chosen One is within the garden. By day, he enters the hut through that garden. I have seen him now on many occasions, and he remains inside some considerable time.' Cabirius thought resentfully that it was little wonder Cybele sought not his caresses. Attis had little talent with books, but made up for that failing in other ways. He had not been chosen Consort by some random accident. Cabirius desperately asked himself why his jealousy was so intent, when as Kelle suggested, the two had coupled in ceremony more than once. It was because he was being doubly betrayed, by both his lover and his only friend, who pretended to hate each other. And a convincing act it had been, when all the time they met as lovers. 'Are you ill?' Kelle asked, as he paled. 'No. I am just a fool.' 'Forget him,' she offered, ignoring his earlier denial. 'I know not anyway why you would seek his embraces when you could have me instead.' 'You mean that not.' 'But I do,' she said, suddenly serious. 'I will be a Novice not much longer, Cabirius, then I can escape this wretched and public life. I shall have a hut of my own like Jenna, and you can share my bed every night. Do you not realise you are the most hungered-for man on all the Isle?' He reached forward and pulled her to him, kissing her with a literal vengeance. She shrank not from his embrace, but tore furiously at his gown. She sensed his reason for this assault and welcomed it. If jealousy would drive him to her, she minded not. In fact, she played along most eagerly. 'Do you wish me to do to you what I did to him?' she asked in a rasping eagerness. He nodded, and pushed her roughly down to her knees. He entered her mouth and thrust hard down her throat, not caring if she gagged or choked. He then pulled her to her feet, turned her over and rammed his phallus hard into her from behind with a driving aggression. Finally, they were on the cold stone floor with him above her. All the while, he cursed her with obscenities and she eagerly responded, scratching his skin with her sharp nails - his chest, his buttocks, even his throat and cheek. It would show, but neither of them had thought for the morrow. When he finally spilt, it was with a cry of pain and anguish, a culmination of the betrayal by the two he most loved. He then collapsed heavily onto her chest, and for a heartbeat, Kelle thought he was dead. She certainly thought it clear that he wanted to be. As Cabirius sobbed silently into her hair, supporting himself on his elbows, Kelle realised he needed to be alone. She spoke to him gently. 'If you ever want me again, and would take me for myself, I would have you gladly Cabirius. I hope you heal soon,' she said, meaning not the bleeding gashes on his skin. She then rolled him off her, pulled down her gown and left him to his thoughts and pain.
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