Bounder Ch. 06

Shortcuts be damned in any case! We turned our backs to the swamp and just hastened due north to find the road as quickly and directly as possible. We didn't discuss our close call almost being a lizard tea-time snack but Koch did have the decency to look a little embarrassed and mercifully quiet for the remainder of the trip home.

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In keeping with our general travel luck today, all bad... the long anticipated eastern rainstorm greeted its dryer western cousin clouds directly above our heads with a hearty 'hail and well met'. Nearly at once the skies turned black and just before the downpour of rain began, our skulls and tired shoulders were greeted by a thundering avalanche of falling hail. Mercifully, some of it was small, but a near fist sized chunk of ice greeted Koch's balding pate, striking his scalp through his traveling hood just sharply enough to draw blood.

His grumbling for the remainder of the miserable journey back to the city was entirely understandable. Even the normally even-tempered Flerrie began to glare at the world and everyone in it with some growing malevolence.

In repayment, I promised us all a good dinner and I quietly found an excellent inn that catered to traveling merchants quite near the west gate, decently remote enough away, we hoped, from anyone that might likely recognize me. As wet as miserable as we all looked, the tapster made no complaint when we kept our soaked traveling hoods on over our weary faces and kept our noses to the fireplace, and out of any of the social conversations.

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We returned to the widow's rooming house again later that evening and enjoyed the unexpected snack of a fresh warm honey cake while toasting our toes (still damp and miserable) in front of a now cozy fire inside of our bedroom. The day had been wretched, and the skies outside were still unleashing a downpour of hard cold rain, but at least we had made enough progress to continue with our existing plan for tomorrow without any significant alterations.

Koch, in an unusual comprehension and display of behavioral subtlety, even quietly enquired if he ought to make alternative sleeping arrangements for tonight in another guest bedroom next door? Obviously we were still quite safe and secure here, and even the lump of a fellow like the former leg-breaker could gauge the rising levels of sexual tension that had been growing between the young guardswoman and myself once more, upon our return to the rooming house. The fact that Flerrie had just changed once again into the thin cotton nightshirt which little hid or disguised her charms had rather increased my ardent desire for experiencing the touch of her flesh once more, but in a rather more intimate manner.

Stupidly, I told him to stay.

What Flerrie's direct reaction to this was, I'm not entirely sure. For a moment I thought I caught a hint of disappointment from her surface thoughts, but I would have needed eye contact in order to know this for sure. That I could not do... as I couldn't trust my urges to remain under control, if I were to gaze directly into her beautiful eyes once more. I had been facing away from her, focusing on controlling my thoughts and more importantly my increasingly wanton desires. More than ever, I longed to make her my next pet, to lovingly and gloriously corrupt and defile her, body and soul. Alas, this was still neither the time nor the place for crafting a new sexual toy, and with stern effort I steeled my willpower and allowed my growing erection within my hose to become flaccid once more.

Again, I feigned a desire for sleep that wasn't entirely accurate, but it served to place the moment of temptation further behind me... until after the candles were blown out for the night and I soon once more felt Flerrie's soft feminine flesh encroach ever closer and tighter next to me. By the time she had surrendered to sleep, her arms were again around my waist, clutching me close in comfort and security.

I decried to myself that I was being a damned fool, and that with just a casual roll over into her arms that I could then hold her too as well, and exhibit that I was yet awake and passionate with desire and need for her. But I did nothing, until the moments of danger had again safely passed.

The young patroller did not know of my wickedness, my carnal appetites and how I molded, devoured and discarded my playthings with little or no regard for their feelings or desires. She wanted my companionship, perhaps even my love... emotional experiences that I was largely unfamiliar with. I 'took' women, I ensnared and enslaved them with my gift and used them by any method that temporarily amused me at that time. She desired kindness and affection, to share herself with me as equals, loving companions, and this was something altogether new and an entirely different experience for me. Frighteningly so!

I did not know how to give or even share... I only took that what I wanted. Now, I wanted her... but I could not bring myself to bear the power of my gift against her, no matter how badly it cried out to me to use it! I knew I could make her my thrall, but I was well aware that I'd then lose everything about the woman that had attracted me to her. I could create an obedient and submissive sex slave out of her that would bear her face and speak with her voice, but it wouldn't be quite exactly the same... it wouldn't be her! Was it Flerrie's youth and innocence that I longed to corrupt? Or did I continue to feel some lasting gratitude for the unselfish way that she had strove to keep me safe and only time in my life?

I just didn't know. Somehow the comfort of her warmth soothed me and despite the swirling conflicted thoughts that continued to rush through my mind I somehow became relaxed enough to shut my eyes in peace, and I surrendered to the comfort of a long dreamless sleep.

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Early again the next morning, just as the sunrise gate horns blew, our kindly landlady again gently rapped upon our door to awaken us. As my eyes opened I discovered that they now directly faced into Flerrie's, awake and cognizant as well, much refreshed by her sleep. We had ended up intertwined in each other's arms, holding each other close during the night. The embrace was close, intimate even, as I discovered that my left hand had been gently grasping her right breast on top of her thin shift, with casual tenderness.

As our eyes and perhaps our souls made equally intimate contact I thought for one terrible moment that she had seen into the darkness of my very soul, that my secrets and terrible desires and urges had now made known to her. But instead she just smiled and continued to hold me close for a long, long moment until she reluctantly rolled away from off of her small mattress to arise and make her morning ablutions.

With no apparent modesty, she lifted up the hem of her shift fully above her waist as she used the chamber pot to release her morning urine, giving me a clear unobstructed view of her loins as she pissed nearly fully facing me. Her pubic hair was dark and somewhat thick, but her vaginal lips were clearly visible for my scrutiny. She then with a smile on her face, pulled off the shift and casually began dressed herself, being not at all protective her remaining modesty. Her waist was wasp slender above her full hips and her figure would be the envy of any noblewoman and although the soft breasts were a bit on the small size, they were well rounded and shaped, with dark areola and firm prominent nipples. I longed to hold them again once more, this time knowingly so, and not just while in the land of slumber.

I mentally cursed myself again for being a fool, that this lovely creature had desired to be taken, to become a willing vessel for my sexual pleasure, and that a priceless opportunity to obtain her had probably been lost forever! Honesty, loyalty, justice and even revenge be damned!

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We managed to leave the boarding house just after the second horn of the morning, when the gate trumpeters announced that the city gates which had been closed for the night, would now be reopened. We needed to cross the length of the city to the eastern gates, and then to the stables a short walk outside thereafter, but we didn't want to move hastily enough to attract any attention. In this instance, speed was of a bit more importance than stealth. If we crossed the city by side streets and alleyways alone, the trip would take us hours, and that would have made us late for our rendezvous with Mumford and his nephew.

The overnight rain had desisted for the most part and had become instead a rather persistent fog and drizzle that left a light fog over the city streets, likely to remain over our heads for some days or even a week or more. This was a more consistent weather behavior for late spring, or so I had been told. Something to be endured... at least until the dry heat of summer arrived to make even this limited cool moisture be remembered with fondness, rather than annoyance.

For today, the expense of a few silver marks for a covered carriage to quickly take us straight along the main city river road, Ormscrest Way, which ran wide and spacious between the two city gates, was a very worthy expense. Especially with the fog that would cloud the eyes of anyone watching for us! Even with the thick early morning mist and numerous warehouse and naval cartage making their deliveries, we suffered no meaningful delays and we reached the east gate in less than an hour. Still dressed as itinerant merchants, no one near the gates paid any notice of our passage as we walked out. Even the pair of Blackguards stationed there was currently showing more interest in the exposed ankles of the daughter of a teamster, hauling into the city a wagon of fresh produce. They loudly ogled her tanned bare legs exposed below her knee-length kirtle, which I had to admit were of the first quality.

The black-cloaks didn't spare the slightest glance at us, and we made our second departure from the city with a similar lack of fuss and bother as the first.

From the eastern gate, the Lowry Stables were only about ten minutes further away down the river road. Mumford was already watching and waiting for us, with Maitlan enjoying an early morning nap in one of the hay lofts inside. He had spent the entire night on watch outside in the rain near the copse of trees near the inn on both nights and had nothing of any significance to report anyway, so I let him sleep. My disguised manservant had enjoyed slightly greater success, but provided me with very little actual information that was in fact completely new to my ears. Still, it confirmed the information that I had been given and helped to rearrange a few of the more troubling puzzle pieces to their proper position.

"The elder Weir is a bad one, alright. Marked by the Furies he is! All rage and no restraint, even to his own kin that fear him even as the goodly would fear a devil! He was indeed of the Blackguards once, a captain if the scroll of merit that he showed me was true. He was quick to speak of his many friends still there, and of how his enemies feared their wrath! A villain born to hang, 'tis no doubt about that! And of his sons, they'll all become gallows birds someday soon enough, each of their own merit. My first night spent at the inn revealed their lusts, as they nearly claimed for sport the young wife of a traveling trader. They fled the inn but in the nick of time, as the lads made many loud threats against her husband if he did not allow them to share her favors, all the while their hands were groping under her bodice and kirtle! The unhappy couple then departed with great haste and to safety, I can report with no small amount of pleasure."

"The lads are known rapists then?"

"Without dispute. The youngest however is quite simple and to my knowledge he lives and stays in either the barn or the stables and is not a likely party to their sport."

"Ah, the stables. Tell me about their horses and any carriages? Let me surmise that they have at the least a small black hack and a pair of coal dark horses to pull it?"

"Quite so. You were quite correct in every aspect. Late last night, while the simple stable lad slept, I risked crawling underneath the carriage to examine the underbody and I also checked the wheels most carefully. The recent rain has cleaned off any traces of blood from the wheel spokes, unfortunately, but the underside of the hack showed a few clear lingering traces of remaining splattered blood. Fresh enough stains though to have been Danelle's. Almost certainly splattered there within the last couple of days, as the blood splatter fell upon a good firm layer of dust, and it has not rained for some time until yesterday."

"Excellent. And the usual driver?"

"I cannot say Sir. The carriage was not taken out of the stables at any time during the two nights and the day we kept it under observation. I would judge that any or all of the family could have been involved with either of the two killings, or the cover-up that followed."

That was my estimation too. The whole family was bad and needed to be excised like a wart. Perhaps the simple youngest son held no guilt, but he was certain to protect and defend his family against outsiders if confronted.

"Any other potential problems then, assuming the father and the two sons need to be rather urgently, but quietly dealt with?"

"The crone grandmother is another one who walked the dark sunless road of evil a very long time ago and with little if any remorse, and probably singing with joy at every step along the way. Her eyes are as black as the abyss and have no soul left within them. And her granddaughter was spawned from that same wicked tree as well! She seemed to see right through our disguises and we were encouraged to leave straight away without delay early the next morning, despite our stated desire to wait in residence an additional day, to wait for the arrival of a business partner. We even offered them extra silver to stay, but I liked not the malevolent looks in their eyes. We'd aroused their suspicions and our lives were likely to be forfeit had we stayed more than another moment longer! If someone claims that the old mother is in fact a witch, I'll not dispute that assertion! There is something of the Sylvan Gypsy look to the old crone and granddaughter both, their brows, cheekbones and chin are of the old blood, and I'd wager that they've forgotten more black magic than the famed Stygian Witch ever learned in her several lifetimes! In truth, I was heartily glad to be gone from that evil house and its occupants, and probably none too soon!"

"A well-timed escape, I would agree! Now let us consider how we might best deal with this problem so that we might all the sooner return to our homes and resume other normal, profitable, business affairs!"

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Actually, I was rather short of clever ideas at the moment. We didn't want witnesses, even innocent travelers around. That suggested a carefully planned late night strike to acquire at least four bodies that would require a late night all expenses paid guided one-way tour of the swamp. It was by throwing dead bodies into the nearby all-to convenient river that started this entire mess in the first place! Perhaps a deep burial hole out in the nearby wilderness hills might be faster and safer, if slightly less permanent. No, it needed to be fire... it was not unheard of for the murdered buried bodies of the exceptionally wicked to rise again as revenants, or become the fodder for diabolical necromantic rituals. That was pure nightmare fodder and the sort of lingering after-problem I never, ever wanted to deal with. Only purifying fire would do... of that I was absolutely certain to the very depths of my tainted dishonest soul!

No matter how we sliced up roles for the job, Mumford and Maitlan were going to miss out on most of the wet work, and I was none too sure just how far young Flerrie could be trusted to go either! My old partner in crime was too old and arthritic for that sort of fun and his nephew was much too inexperienced, and quite untested in a mission of hard premeditated murder that was being lightly coated with fancy words of whitewash as 'justice'. The kid had never cut a throat before in his life and I was none too sure how he'd react afterwards.

Flerrie on the other hand had killed a few folks before in heated blood or self-defense and had even slit the throats afterwards without being the least bit squeamish. She was indeed an adequate warrior shield-maiden, but I doubted that her current loyalty to me would cover outright deliberate cold blooded murder either.

Instead, I was becoming more partial to the 'accidental late night fire at the inn' strategy suggested by Auguste, assuming that I could get Flerrie to agree to this rather overtly ingenuous and arsonous means of solving Sir Adrian's current problem. This would also eliminate a late night trip to the swamp and potential witnesses along the road. Not an insignificant matter. Having a cart loaded with oil on hand ready to fuel this sort of conflagration would be rather helpful. Also death by arson would leave very little suggestion that the dire deed had been indeed done by me, rather than a host of the Weir families other enemies. Another significant advantage.

Under the right circumstances, like one outraged wife or daughter too many, I could see the townsfolk gathering outside with torches and sharpened pitchforks and starting the bonfire all by themselves. Such an unfortunate (and perhaps all too plausible) event would quiet down the Blackguards' obligation to 'do something', and rather instead just let the entire unfortunate matter drop.

That seemed like the most desirable potential outcome to me!

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With something now resembling a plan of action, we once again divided our forces. Mumford and Flerrie were to be sent back into the city to obtain at least several barrels of good fuel oil from the markets. Anything that would burn! At least fifty gallons total, but in smaller five to ten gallon kegs, preferably bought just one or two at a time and from different vendors. These were harder to trace (impossible I hoped) and would be more accurate for surrounding and engulfing the mostly wooden two-story structure into a raging bonfire in just minutes. That amount would do, but a bit extra would be helpful.

Flerrie was rather insistent upon staying with me, but lying shamelessly through my teeth I assured her that I would be in no physical danger during her absence, and thus she could safely assist the elderly Mumford with his critically essential task, since Maitlan had been up for two straight days and needed some sleep. I didn't volunteer any information about what the oil was to be used for, and much to her credit she didn't ask me any questions that required me to lie in response. She wasn't a stupid girl though, but I suggested that the oil might be necessary for the post-party cleanup, rather than admitting I would rather roast all of the guilty parties alive in their own home in the dead of night.

Mumford and Flerrie would stay with the wagon, after quietly bringing it around to the Weirhold Inn stables at about midnight, then Maitlan, who would remain with me to continue scouting our enemies the rest of this afternoon and evening as well, could assist me with the process of distributing the fuel around before helping me to quietly awaken and remove any current visiting guests before the incinerating blaze was started. If or when we were spotted by the townsfolk, we'd all have masks or hoods on and pretend that we were one of them and make ourselves lost in the confusion.