The eight-hour shifts of the guards shifted forward by one each day. That meant on the second day, Morne worked from noon until night, and on the third, he was assigned to the priestess's quarters until morning.
This was something Hamlin didn't have time to tell Morne before his first shift, but the captain had made sure to tell him afterward.
Since it was his first time, he was left outside with three others as the other six marched in along after the priestess.
Morne stood across from the door with the second of the two female guards, two men across from him.
They were as silent as the grave, in accordance with the rules Hamlin had listed, which was enough to hear the faint sounds coming from within the room.
The walls were too thick to determine what those sounds were, but to Morne to sounded like scratching.
But Morne didn't pay attention to this. If the other guards weren't worried, then there was no reason for him to be.
Instead, he spent each minute thinking of his next move.
By this time next week, the shifts would change and he would be inside this room, standing guard.
With five other trained and armed guards to contend with, along with the expectation that he would stay in one spot for all eight hours, it would be tricky, but it was also the best chance he had.
A plan started to form in his mind.
.......
Brej-N'Ha-Frikt sipped some wine as he looked down, his gaze piercing through the temple's walls and landing on Morne.
The Coltha sat in a comfortable chair of infantile sendel skin that he had created on a whim, floating in the vast expanse of space above and around the created world he had thrown Morne into.
He knew anyone chosen by his lord wouldn't be a fool. A certain level of caution was expected when one was in an unfamiliar world surrounded by people more powerful than one's self.
Morne didn't bother to train, as three weeks wasn't enough to learn anything meaningful when it came to combat, much less the week he planned to stay there.
His guard duties were equally as droll. The man just stood there like a statue for eight hours straight each time.
The Coltha didn't rush things. He was nothing if not patient.
He could see the gears turning in the mortal's head, and knew that Morne would act soon. Seeing this, he moved some pawns around, adjusting the mentality of some and tweaking the abilities of others.
For a less powerful demon, such work would be difficult to perform on subjects such as these. But to Brej, it was as easy as a thought.
He had a few surprises left in store for Morne, and was keen to see them play out.
.......
The day to enact Morne's plan arrived swiftly.
Morne marched into the room behind five other guards, leaving four more outside and stepping into place on the right. When he got into position, he scanned the surroundings.
It was surprisingly small for an abode of a powerful religious figure, or perhaps it was small because of who it belonged to.
Each piece of furniture, from the wide bed frame in the center of the room to the chests and cabinets lining the walls, were all parts of the tree at the back of the room, growing out of the thick roots under the grassy floor.
The bed frame, like everything else, was covered in brown bark and had an uncomfortable mattress of straw stuffed into a cloth bag on top of it.
Morne stood on the left side of a wooden door, another guard on the other side of it. Two more stood guard at the door leading out, and another two took their positions against the left wall.
His eyes swept the room, but he saw neither the Idol of Pernecia nor the window he had heard of, and concluded that the Idol was behind the door he was guarding.
He knew for certain that the window was within, as he had been briefed on potential security hazards before coming here.
His stony face did not reveal the satisfaction he felt. He had hoped that the Idol would be within that room.
After the guards assumed their positions, the priestess jumped onto her bed, landing with a content sigh on her stomach.
A piece of her perk bottom poked out from the loincloth she wore, the garment's flap having landed awkwardly.
Unlike in the throne room, the guards did nothing to hide their lust, openly ogling this sight as the priestess looked over at one of them with a smile.
She flipped over onto her back, propping herself up on an arm as she looked at the guards one by one.
"You, you, and… you," she said sultrily, pointing at three men as she licked her lips.
The three men marched forward with eager expressions, stopping in front of the bed frame.
One of these men happened to be the one across from the door Morne stood next to, an unexpected advantage he wouldn't complain about.
That didn't stop him from frowning lightly as the three men stripped themselves of arms and armor.
The priestess watched it all from start to finish, eyes sparkling with excitement.
What happened next was exactly what Morne expected.
The three guards threw themselves on the woman like rabid beasts, the loud creaking of the bed frame sounded a lot like the scratching he had heard days before.
Morne shook his head inwardly, looking straight ahead even as the others watched on jealously.
He wasn't a stranger to standing around near an orgy. One of his masters had been fond of forcing him to stand nearby "in case he needed anything." Those experiences quickly dulled whatever reactions he would normally get from these things.
No, what Morne was confused by was something else.
As the woman's musical moans and the sound of flesh slapping against flesh rang through the air, Morne couldn't help but wonder once again…
What was the difference between Vreyy's "love" and Hasthan's lust?
His musings were interrupted by a crash from behind him.