Feldare Tales: High Society Ch. 07

The girl would pay the price with her body and life. He would ravage the first, then take the other.

A bright light flared in his nostrils as he scented the target. Crissa. She had been this way, and recently. He loped off in pursuit of that scent. Perhaps he could ravage her a while, he thought. He needed to keep her alive, and he knew that, but he could make use of her, could he not? He could even kill the other target, Peris. Use her, then kill her.

---

Crissa watched Marrat's home for many minutes, paying close attention to the shadows across the street. A shape moved about in the alley two doors down. Just a subtle shifting in the darkness. Enough.

She reached out with her mind and found the hard, cruel mind of one of the young 'wolfling' noblemen. He was bored, and upset, probably at being put on such a seemingly unimportant task. She sent him into slumber with a thought. A soft thud was the reward to her ears.

A few more minutes passed as she found and knocked out another watcher, leaving him behind some barrels and walking across the street. She entered through the kitchen to hear Marrat's voice from the study. ". . .strange events, they truly are, Anasper," he was saying.

A deeper, very cultured voice replied to Marrat's rather broken, old voice. "Indeed, and I trust you've maintained at least the appearance of impartiality?"

"Of course, milord," replied her mentor. "I know well the laws."

Crissa slinked toward the study door, down its short hall.

"Hence sending for me as a barrister for your apprentice?" asked the deeper voice.

"Exactly, milord," said Marrat, sounding pleased with himself as he hefted two snifters of brandy and handed one to Lord Duke Anasper of Morrovale. The young duke took the goblet and sniffed at the quality brandy within experimentally, before taking a long, relishing sip.

"Crystern?" asked the nobleman.

"The duke has a good nose," agreed Marrat. "And those islanders brew excellent brandy," said Anasper, taking another sip. "However," he started a moment later, "I doubt very seriously that you called me here to show off a new bottle of brandy." His expression was one of curiosity, tinged with worry.

"It's my apprentice, the boy from Morrovale," said Marrat.

Anasper sat slightly more upright and sat down his brandy snifter. "Wenn?" he asked.

Marrat had to remind himself to not be surprised when Anasper remembered a person or event, he seemed to have a knack for such remembering. It was a skill that served a young and progressive-thinking nobleman well.

"Yes, milord," agreed Marrat. "He has been charged with murder, and he needs a barrister."

"You could have asked by letter for a reference," said Anasper, his expression turning a bit more worried and less curious. His eyes wandered over Marrat's shoulder and onto a bookshelf behind the old wizard.

"You know damn well I didn't ask you here for a reference, impudent duke," said Marrat, his face tinting pink.

Anasper chuckled deeply and picked up his snifter. "As a mage, you will be trying the case, I assume?" he asked.

"Yes, milord," said Marrat, again remembering his normal place. He had known Anasper since birth and was one of a handful of people in the duchy who could talk to the nobleman as he had.

"You want me to represent him?" the noble asked, voicing the obvious question.

"Yes, milord," agreed Marrat again.

"I would be delighted, but why?"

"I need a barrister who knows the laws of the duchy well," said Marrat.

Anasper chuckled again, and emptied his snifter. "Well, that I do, I suppose," he said.

Crissa walked into the chamber at that time, openly looking down at the duke. "Milord?" she asked, bowing low and staying bowed.

"Please, Crissa is it?" asked Anasper, "enough formality for a private moment." She rose again and he appraised her long form. "She is a tall young lady, isn't she?" he asked Marrat.

"You know of me?" asked Crissa.

Marrat laughed. "The duke makes it a point to know of wizards and witches in his lands," he said.

"You tell him about us?" asked the young sorceress, turning toward Marrat with more than a little accusation in her big blue eyes.

"It's part of my job, dear," said Marrat, refilling Anasper's snifter and also filling a third. "I am not just a wizard. I am the ranking wizard in the duchy."

"That he is," said the nobleman, still gazing upon Crissa. "We correspond regularly. But do not think it spying or such, but rather think of it as two friends telling one another of their lives."

She cast a dubious glance at the duke, then another at Marrat. "He is to be Wenn's counsel?"

"Yes, dear," replied the wizard.

"Thank you milord," she said, picking up the third glass and sipping the brandy.

"Crissa, where have you been?" asked Marrat, finally.

She sniffed as the brandy cleared her sinuses. "Hiding," she said.

"Whatever for, you're not charged with anything," said Marrat.

Crissa raised one eyebrow at him, then at Anasper.

"He is Wenn's counsel," said Marrat, "and I am not wearing the robes of judge just now, you can speak freely."

She sighed, relieved to finally speak openly. "Peris and I have been looking into things, and finding out what evidence is held against Wenn."

"Very good," said Marrat and the duke nodded alongside him. "But why the secrecy?"

"We've had to resort to some rather - unstandard means to attain some of the evidence and knowledge," said Crissa. "I'll not ask," said Marrat, holding up a hand when Anasper leaned forward to ask a question. "You know something of the raid on the asylum, then?"

"We know of it, of course," said Crissa, her ears turning red at the understatement. Crissa had never been much of a liar, and to lie to Marrat was harder still.

"I am going to do some studies on the laws," said Marrat, rising and draining his brandy. "You two may speak more freely as counsel and client." He moved out of the room, his blue robes rustling as he closed the door behind him.

"Tell me everything," said Anasper as the door clicked home. His face had suddenly grown stern but not upset. He was just down to business now.

"Wenn is innocent," she said. "The nobles have some sort of cult and they slew the victim."

"How do you know this?" he asked.

"We have the witness," said Crissa, looking away.

Anasper blinked a moment, and took another sip of brandy. "You?" he asked. "I had heard it was a full squad of soldiery that broke in there."

"Wrong, two girls," she said, smiling. "Granted one is a sorceress."

Anasper chuckled and shook his head. "I will expect a full telling of this tale eventually, it sounds quite entertaining," he said. "However, in the meantime, you must keep that witness aside and hidden."

"We intend to," she agreed. "You aren't wroth?"

"I would be, were I the duke right now," he said. "But, at this moment, I am your counsel, and Wenn's, not the Duke of Morrovale."

She sighed with further relief, expecting to have been punished for her acts so far, but also knowing such punishment would be less than Wenn was likely to receive.

"You should go back to wherever you have stashed him and keep watch," said Anasper. "Do not even tell me where he is. I will go speak to Wenn in the morning, and meet me here at midday."

"Yes, milord," she said hastily.

"Counsel," he interrupted. "When we are on this business, I am to be addressed as counsel."

"Yes, counsel." she agreed with a smile, meanwhile, she was rifling one of the bookshelves, peering at the writing upon their thick leather bindings.

Anasper watched Crissa for a long moment before saying, "I understood your learning of the arts was not based upon formal education."

"It's not, counsel," said the tall sorceress after a long pause. "I seek a book on elven folk."

The duke raised one thin eyebrow at her as she walked from that bookshelf to another, peering high and low for something with either elven writing or regarding elves. "I must say," he said, "I've noted a explosion of fascination for elven things since the coming of the Lady Hyandai."

Crissa nodded. "This infatuation that I seek to sate started long before her arrival, I think," she said. "The witness is very keen on elven things and people."

"Is he, then?" asked the duke, taking a sudden interest in the young man. "Does he know much already?"

"He speaks the language, from what I can tell," replied Crissa, pulling a large, thick tome from the shelf and opening it to peer at the pages.

Anasper hmm'ed to himself quietly as she carried that book from the shelves and carried it from the room. "I must be going, the watchers will be coming to soon."

"Coming to?" asked Anasper, again lifting his eyebrow.

A embarrassed smile came to Crissa's features. "I had to keep them from watching me come and go."

"I see," said the duke, nodding sagely.

With that, she was gone, moving down the hallway with long, ground-eating strides. She ran up the stairs to the turret room three at a time and rifled her own room for things. A few moments later, she emerged with the book stuffed into a bag, along with some other few items.

The duke opened the door for her and smiled as she went through. "See you on the morrow," he said as she gave him a curt nod. -

Terena turned the corner and watched as Crissa approached the tenement. "Hello, my sweet," whispered the witch, ducking back into the shadows of a doorway as Crissa took a brief look up and down the street before stepping into the stairwell.

With a quick chant, a few murmured words, Terena's shape shimmered, then faded to nothing. A faint bit of wavering air moved across the street, causing lamplight on the streets to flicker as she moved past, like heat waves. She slipped into the building and up to the first landing. She touched the door and felt for people beyond it, sensing only one old man. Moving across the hall, she felt a family with children, and a large dog.

She moved to the second story and used her arcane abilities to feel of that door, sensing two young women and a young man, she smiled. They were not near the door, and the stairwell was dark, just as the apartment was. She gently thumbed the latch and it clicked with a tiny sound.

Just as she pushed the door shut, she watched the tall blond pull a illumination stone from a sack, filling the little common room with light. There were the other two, as described, as well. The smaller girl, the brunette, would be an easy target, and the young man, perhaps easier still. However, the other sorceress had already proven she was not without power of her own, and was also physically imposing.

How would the young sorceress deal with an invisible foe?

That question still ran through the mind of the witch even as one of the windows exploded inward, showering the room with shards of glass and wooden splinters from the latticework of frame that held in the small panes.

The three were still in mid start as the beast bounded off the inside wall of the room, blood splattering the white painted surface. It was headed straight for Peris.

Kennet was still stunned by the sudden hailstorm of glass fragments that rained over him, and was only just now turning to face the motion deeper in the room.

Crissa had thrown up her arms automatically, and the light stone fell to the floor, casting odd shadows throughout the room.

The creature was halfway across the room when it stopped dead, skidding across the hardwood floor with a horrible tearing sound. Long grooves scored the surface, where its claws dug into the wood. He turned to regard Crissa, his eyes narrowing and a low rumble in his throat.

The tall sorceress locked eyes with the horrible creature, moving to her knees even as Peris and Kennet shied back and put the couch between them and the large cat-like thing. "It's okay," said Crissa, "I have his mind."

Her forehead was furrowed, though, and sweat ran down her brows. "It's resisting me, though, strongly." Otherworldly images rocketed around her thoughts, horrid torments, and terrible agonies. "The things it wishes to do. . ." she said, her face contorting in fright.

Terena raised her invisible eyebrows at this turn of events and she settled back against the wall to watch them unfold, deciding she could make her move if and when convenient.

The creature growled at Crissa in a lower register and her expression became even more worried and afraid. She fell forward onto her hands and then pressed her chest to the floor. The creature moved behind her splayed knees, sniffing at her like a dog.

"I can't stop," she said quietly, her eyes turning up toward Peris and Kennet. "His mind is too determined and strong."

Peris gasped as she watched the long, fat organ slide from a protective sheath between its hind legs. "One save us," she murmured.

Crissa thought furiously, trying to find a way around the control it had established over her through their mental link. She had made it love her, but its love was terrible. It loved her, in its fashion, and now it would have her.

Already, it ravished her in her mind, ripping her back with its talons even as it drove the obscene organ into her. She winced and tears ran from her eyes as she reached down and began to pull her dress up. She screamed at herself to stop, to not give herself to him.

His hot breath washed over her entrance as she revealed it to him and he snuffled there, burrowing with his nose. Her blue eyes craned downward and she gasped even as Peris had at the size and horrid shape of its huge phallus.

With another growl, and another flash of terrible imagery from his corrupt mind, he lurched back and landed his upper half upon her upraised rump. Long talons dug into her soft backside and she cried out, despite her inability to move.

Then the creature howled in agony. He turned to snap at Peris, who was pulling the kitchen knife from his shoulder and she stabbed at his face with it, slicing exposed tendons and sending a splatter of blood in all directions. With a lurch, he launched off of Crissa, tearing long gashes in her back and butt and he lunged for Peris.

His aim was disturbed even as it charged at the small girl and there was a resounding clang as one of the fireplace pokers rebounded from his thick, wedge shaped skull. He had already built up speed, though, and slammed into a wall, stumbling across the floor and coming up on his feet, despite the rather shaken stance it adopted, with legs widely splayed.

Kennet cocked back the long iron poker again, which was noticeably bent now. The creature growled at him with long, triangular teeth bared and blood spraying from his mouth. Crissa regained her feet and lurched for the sack she had brought with her. Even as her hand closed on the burlap, something grabbed her shoulder and tossed her back, stumbling upon her rump and she felt cold where the hand had touched. The bag fell at her side from numb fingers as that arm slumped to her side.

She looked about frantically, trying to espy her attacker now. "There's another in the room!" she shouted, fumbling for the bag again with her other hand as a solid blow landed on her cheek. It felt like a kick. She sprawled on the floor, her hand beneath her, thrust into the sack.

The creature was approaching the armed pair cautiously, growling with terrible menace as it advanced. "Just what we needed," said Peris, "more guests."

Terena moved about quietly, sliding a long knife from its sheath upon her hip. "Now, heretic, you die," she murmured.

Crissa rolled over, pulling her hand from the sack. She was holding another light stone in it and Terena wondered at why the young sorceress would waste her last motion to lift such a thing. "Flah!" screamed Crissa as she squeezed her eyes shut and grimaced.

A flash of light filled the room with such intensity that it caused even Peris and Kennet, who were facing the other direction to blink a few times as the scene before them burned itself onto their eyes. The creature had been half facing toward Crissa and he wailed as his sight left him, replaced by a pattern of black and white dots.

Terena, however, had been looking directly at the sphere. She screamed out as the entire world flashed white, then faded black.

Wenn had specialized in light spells, after all, since early in his apprenticeship. Crissa pried her eyes open, having seen a near blinding light even through her hand and eyelids. The shape was still invisible, or nearly so, she could vaguely make out a shimmering outline by her side and lashed out with a booted foot, kicking the shape's ankle. It was screaming in a feminine voice, and Crissa met few women she could not best in a fair fight.

Terena's feet flew out from under her as she tumbled to the floor. The long knife slid across the wood, becoming visible as soon as it left her hand. Crissa dove for it, even as Terena tried to crawl toward the sound, blinking her invisible eyes to try to clear the darkness that had engulfed them.

The creature backed up, unsure what to do with the vague blurs that filled his vision now, slowly, very slowly, becoming again forms. He launched itself for one shape, tearing a great chunk of the couch out with its claws and teeth. The fireplace poker hit his neck and he howled in pain and aimed for another vague shape.

Crissa's fingers closed on the knife as she felt another person trying to crawl over her, punching and kicking at her. Then she felt small, sharp teeth sink into her shoulder from behind.

She jerked the dagger back and up, aiming for over those teeth. The released her with a ear-splitting wail just inches from her head. The shape rolled half off of her and she helped it finish that roll, leaping to her feet with a powerful thrust of her long, muscular legs. A small chair near the doorway slid aside as something rolled against it and there were the sounds of a body tumbling and scrabbling for purchase.

The creature had launched himself at Peris, and she dodged the clumsy attack with relative ease, only losing a bit of skin off her shin as he raked his bloody claws past her. She cut at it with the knife, just trying to do some damage, and managed to slice deep into his neck, sending another gout of blood splattering over herself.

Terena scrabbled for where she thought he door was, and tried to turn over. The big sorceress had tossed her off her back like a sack of flour and she knew she would never win without seeing her opponent. Before she could regain her feet, however, Crissa landed full on her back, driving her face into the floor and pinning her down. "Have you now, bitch," growled the young sorceress at the witch.

Crissa plunged the dagger up and toward where she thought ribs were. She felt it bite and dive deep into flesh and meat. Terena wailed as the dagger drove itself into her gut, spearing her belly.

Again, Crissa struck, aiming a bit higher, and the shape stopped struggling under her with a soft wheeze. Blood spread upon the floor where she had pushed it into the invisible opponent. Crissa lifted herself to her knees and turned to see Kennet take a nasty wound to the leg from the blindly flailing creature.

Peris sliced him again, the blade skittering off dense bones in his chest. Crissa reached out with her mind again, this time only to distract it. It turned its eyes toward her, blinking with bloody slobber pouring from his maw. She again felt him taking the link over and preparing to drive back into her when Kennet, both hands clutching the poker, brought it down on the creature's finally stationary skull with a sickening crack. The poker broke off in his hand, but the creature slumped to the floor.

It was still breathing, but Crissa felt its command of her drop again. She walked over to the creature and, with a look of measured coldness, slit his heaving throat open. A wide spray of crimson splattered the wall and her arms to an ugh of disgust from Peris.