They threw the young virgin down at the feet of the High Priest. Defiant, she sprang to her feet only to meet a soldier’s truncheon that knocked her again to the floor. Black dots and stars impaired her vision as she struggled to her hands and knees, her swaying head hanging as she regained her senses.

“Stay down,” a soldier hissed from behind.

The High Priest of the Order of Moul, resplendent in a carnelian silk toga, stood before a throne on a circular dais three steps above the young girl. “You would do well to behave, young lady,” he said, “I’m told you’re a virgin.” He looked over to one of the two guards behind her and said, “She’s been checked, right?” The guard nodded.

The priest looked down, a grim, tight lipped smile on his hawkish face. “Yes, you’d do well to behave,” he said, “I’m going to offer you a wonderful opportunity.”

She raised her head, seeing first his sandaled feet, the thongs looked like woven gold, then the red drape of his toga covering his skeletal frame, then the severe narrow face on his hairless head wearing a ludicrous gold onion dome headpiece. She would have laughed but wasn’t really feeling very funny at the moment. Indeed, she was fairly pissed off. She sat back on her knees, poker faced, and said nothing.

“Nothing to say? Don’t you want to know why you’ve been brought here? What’s your name?” the priest asked.

She glared at him, “drop dead.”

His smile widened, progress—she’s talking, he thought. “What harm will it do to tell me your name?”

The guard prodded her with the butt end of his ceremonial lance. Answer!” he growled.

Sullen, “Wyx.”

The priest grinned, she noticed he had bad teeth. “Ah, Wyx,” he said unctuously, “was that so hard?” Dropping his hands, he gathered his toga and sat back into the ornate golden chair. “You’ve heard of the Gemini Virgins?”

“Sure,” she said, “everybody has. Those are the poor bitches you sacrifice to that god you worship.”

“Moul forgive you,” the priest said, tipping his head slightly and touching his forehead with his thumb and index finger. “The Gemini are twins, my dear,” he said, “one twin is sacrificed to Moul and the other gets to serve our priests and bear our children, a great honor I might add. Female children automatically become Gemini, males become our priests. You probably know that.”

“Why would I want to have any part in your stupid religion?” she snarled.

A benign expression came over the priest. “It’s a good life. We take care of our own quite well. By keeping the Order ‘all in the family,’ so to speak, we’ve managed to maintain dominion over this world for more than a century.”

“Ha! Good for you, eh?” Wyx fairly spit the words at him. “Meanwhile the rest of us pay your ‘tithe’ or starve, right?”

“Oh, you have that wrong,” said the priest, his eyes narrowing, “our followers pay the tithe because they believe!”

“Believe or starve, you mean.”

The priest tried mightily to suppress a yawn, which he hid behind the back of his hand, and sighed, “You will be a Gemini.” He arched his brow and his nostrils flared slightly, “What I need to know right now is which part you will play, a believer and lifetime servant of the Order, or the sacrifice to Moul. Choose!”

“Any religion that forces you to believe on pain of death sucks,” Wyx said, “and can’t possibly be anything good. You suck, your church sucks, everything about you sucks!” She spit at him right before the guard hit her with the club again.

The High Priest of the Order of Moul casually waved, flexing his fingertips with a sweeping motion, “Take her. You know what to do.”