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When finally the gossip and giggles died down, replaced by the quiet sounds of eating, Urlan set aside her plate. Author's Notes
"The Goddess has smiled upon us, and Mojeveterk is no longer sundered from the rest of the continent. In these latter days, the land-priestesses still have a duty to protect the land."
The women all nodded, murmuring the ritual response. "We are gathered here to protect the land."
Ashegoi had another mouthful of food halfway to her lips, expecting a sermon or prayer. Food, grown from the land, was likewise sacred, and eating in quiet contemplation of a sermon or prayer was perfectly appropriate. Besides, Ashegoi wanted to head home as soon as she could politely do so after their business was concluded.
Urlan placed both hands on the ground. "Thanks be to Shliiritiri." She picked up her plate again. "One of our people overheard Olarali talking with the scoundrel who calls himself Jarl."
Ashegoi looked up, surprised, the meat fold halfway to her mouth. This then, was urgent business, rather than merely the private matter of who should succeed Urlan as Steward of the Land.
I realized, early on, that a man involved in licensing land use who decides to become a woman in the area that used to be Mojeveterk would catch the eye of the land priestesses. But I didn't know much about who the modern priestesses are. This combined with a request for a secret religious rite or meeting in the May, 2011 Muse Fusion and my recent interest in Ashegoi (what does she do, now that she's retired from the stage?), and a story started to unfold under my fingertips.