Daughter, Lover, Superheroine Ch. 10

Without waiting for Cindy's reply, Mercedes descended into the darkness of the main cargo hold.

Gritting her teeth at Mercedes's brusqueness, Cindy went in after her. She stepped through a reinforced door-frame...

... and immediately she was set upon on both sides by two Warriors, who each grabbed one of her arms in vise-like grips.

Roaring, she flexed her pecs and swung her arms, smashing the Warriors together in front of her. Their skulls collided with a crack, and they slumped, unconscious. But in the cavernous interior of the cargo hold, down at the bottom, she could see Mercedes Sheldon squirming, surrounded by a circle of laughing Warriors. There was something about her wrists -- a pair of glowing shackles!

The Midnighter turned to regard Cindy with wild eyes. "Battleborn! Help me! Get these off!"

"Battleborn! Well, well. A rising star of Paragon City's heroes graces us today with her presence!"

The source of the ringing voice was not hard to identify. At the far end of the hold, cargo crates formed a makeshift dais. Smaller boxes piled together made a sort of crude chair... or throne. It all looked very ersatz and laughable, except that the crowned man seated atop the "throne" radiated a palpable aura of, well, glory. He seemed clothed in light, his silhouette highlighted in sharper relief than the rest of his surroundings.

That had to be Hector, wearing the stolen Crown.

With one easy leap, Cindy jumped and landed with a boom, right in the middle of the circle of Warriors that had formed around the captive Midnighter. They scattered, a few of them flung back with the physical force of her landing, but they all quickly regained their footing and ringed the two women in a circle of steel and bad-tempered masculinity.

"Mercedes! Are you alright?" Cindy yelled, bunching her fists and putting them up. The Warriors glowered, but seemed reluctant to engage... so far.

"I can't... use my magic!" Mercedes cried out, aghast. She seemed frightened out of her wits -- hitherto, Cindy had only ever seen a snooty, mildly derisive expression on her aristocratic face. Now she held up her hands in consternation, visibly shaken.

"That would be the work of the Shackles of Iocaste, created for just this sort of purpose, Midnighter," Hector said, with a little chuckle. Something was making his voice reverberate with a certain numinous quality that was hard to define. When he spoke, an urge to stay quiet and listen tugged at the edges of Cindy's mind. "Manacles to stop your foul magic, wicked sorceress. You don't amount to much without your tricks, do you?" He laughed, harshly, and the assembled Warriors followed suit, jeering and yelling imprecations at the kneeling Mercedes.

Cindy took hold of the glowing Shackles and tried to break them apart. They were supernaturally strong, though, and resisted her efforts. Her muscles bulged and rippled, but to no avail. A whimper escaped Mercedes's lips.

"I have to say," Hector said, standing up slowly, "I expected more of Odysseus. I hadn't thought he would go so far as to turn to Heroes for aid. Perhaps we should've listened to Pavlidis and his concerns a little more closely," he said, almost in an undertone. "I shall have to find him -- Alexander the Great -- and make amends, win him to our side once more."

"Well," his voice rose again, "here you are, disrupting our gathering. And have you harridans some reason to harass us? What cause have you to barge into our midst, brutalize our brothers-in-arms, and intrude upon our private matters?"

Cindy's head swam a little, and she blinked uncomfortably. "We... we're here for the Crown of Glory, which you've stolen," she declared. "I'm helping Mercedes Sheldon of the Midnight Club to regain her family heirloom. Return it, and we'll be on our way!"

"Return?" Hector mused, tilting his head slightly, as if puzzled. "Return? You say that I have 'stolen' this. A harsh word, 'stolen'. Have you any proof with which you can substantiate your allegation? Are you not a Heroine, proud of upholding justice? Where is your search warrant? Where is your writ of authority? Where is this vaunted 'due process' we have all heard so much about, in this city that purports to respect the rule of law?"

"Quite ironic of criminals like you to start blathering on about legal technicalities," Mercedes said angrily, though her tremulous voice was edged with fear. "You and your men robbed my family of our heirlooms, including some very dangerous items that threatened to plunge the entire world into chaos! Fortunately, I've been able to recover the Dirge of Chaos and the Devil's Timepiece from the hands of your associates. You have placed yourselves beyond the bounds of legal protection by your own actions. Now... now surrender the Crown! It belongs to my family!"

"Yet more unfounded accusations, compounded with an unwonted declaration of ownership. What hubris, Midnighter, to claim the Crown of Glory as a family heirloom, as if it were some trinket to be placed inside a display case, for the viewing pleasure of your fellow aristocrats!" Hector laughed coldly. "I shall deal with you as I see fit, now that you have delivered yourself into my power.

"For your part, Battleborn, I have no doubt that you were deceived by this serpent-tongued siren into assisting her. We know of you, Battleborn, and your valorous reputation. Believe me, we Warriors admire your deeds, even if you are only a woman! We hold no grudge against you for the injuries you dealt our fellows, in honest battle. In fact, I salute you for your prowess, most remarkable in someone of the female persuasion. I think you will find that we have much more in common than you think.

"Your companion, on the other hand... I must ask you, how is it that you have to endure her? This strident shrew, this venomous virago... her company cannot be very pleasant, unless I miss my guess."

Mercedes flinched, and glanced away, her cheeks flushed. Cindy found herself unable to retort.

"She has erred greatly, I think, inveigling you into this ill-considered venture of hers. This Crown that graces my brow... it is something beyond mortal comprehension. The Crown of Glory should not languish in a vault somewhere -- it is surely meant for a far greater destiny... a destiny that you, Battleborn, can help bring to fruition, if you so choose.

"For I bear you no ill-will, even now. And why should I, indeed? Are we not both warriors? Do we not follow the same code, albeit in our different ways? You know the meaning of such words as strength, honor and courage... words that likely mean nothing to your companion. See now how the sorceress cowers when she is deprived of her duplicitous legerdemain! She is certainly no warrior... she is not like you at all. Or me.

"Listen to me, Battleborn... Cindy Beck. Join me, add your strength to our righteous cause. Be my woman at my side as I reshape the world into one of justice and honor. With the Crown I could heal the disorders of this world, of which there are many. You have suffered some yourself, you and your mother both!

"In the world I shall create, women will be shielded and sheltered, protected by the noble sacrifices of chivalrous men. A woman will know comfort and peace as the angel of hearth and home, the fertile bearer of progeny, the comforter of her man as he returns from his struggles in the wider world, his faithful provider of pleasure in the conjugal bed. That is the natural order of things, as it has been since time immemorial. In this future, you will find the true fulfillment of your destiny, Cindy!"

The harmonics of his voice were enthralling, somehow. Whatever he said seemed possessed of good sense and fair-minded wisdom. His demands and arguments compelled agreement. Cindy felt a bizarre desire to seem amenable to reason in this man's judgment, so that he would approve of her.

Why did it seem so strangely important that he did so?

This feeling grew stronger in her, right up to the part where he talked about the role of women in the world he envisioned. That felt... wrong... somehow. But why?

Mercedes Sheldon nudged her side urgently. "Battleborn! Snap out of it! He's trying to charm you!"

"Silence, witch!" Hector growled sharply. "We have had enough of your deceitful words. Know your place, woman! Kneel, or you will be knelt!"

And to Cindy's utter shock, Mercedes whimpered and obeyed. The haughty magician prostrated herself on the cargo hold floor, and bowed her head, trembling... the picture of female subservience.

Hector smiled in grim satisfaction. Something in Cindy's soul recoiled.

"That's better. She and her kind still have their uses, as despicable as they may be. But in the glorious future I envision, we will be well rid of their ilk. Honor will be restored," his voice rang out and reverberated, "and by my hand I will give you an endless procession of victories. Men will be respected again for being men! Women will no longer be fractious rebellious feminists," he all but snarled the word, "but will know their roles as good women and accept them gladly! My brothers... we who bear the names of great men, we will be great again!"

A resounding cheer erupted from the throat of every Warrior assembled. "Hector! Hector! Hector!" they cried, thrusting their weapons into the air and waving them about wildly.

Even as the cheering went on, Hector stepped off the dais, and strode towards Cindy, hand extended. Cindy found herself rooted to the spot, her eyes fixed on the glowing specimen of manliness approaching her with insouciant confidence.

"You are worthy of being my Queen in this new world I will build, Battleborn," he said, with a dazzling smile. "Your body is lovely to behold. You are strong, and pretty. I will wring many cries of pleasure from your lips. I will place my seed in you, and you shall give me many healthy sons to be kings of this world after me."

Unbidden mental images came to Cindy's mind as he spoke, conjured by the power of his speech. She was on her back, spread-eagled, unclothed, legs splayed wide open. And golden Hector approached, his long thick shaft dripping with liquid at the tip. He took firm hold of her ankles, and spread her legs even wider as he prepared to penetrate her...

That snapped her right out of it. That's not Mom.

Her jaw dropped in astonishment. With that odious speechifying, this Hector of the Warriors had all but swayed Cindy's strong will to his way of seeing the world... it could only have been on account of that Crown he was wearing! Mercedes and Odysseus had dropped enough hints by now about what the Crown's powers were. Cindy was sure that her guess was correct.

If this was what the Crown could do... it was perhaps one of the most dangerous magical artifacts she had ever encountered!

She glared at Hector. He still projected majesty, thanks to the Crown of Glory, but she was building up a mental resistance to it. "You can keep your disgusting dreams to yourself, Hector. Women are not your inferiors, to be placed upon pedestals of your choosing as trophies and unrealistic ideals, or denigrated whenever you feel like buttressing your fragile ego! There might be some women who'll like the world you describe... that's up to them... but there are so, so very many who would loathe every bit of it. And I'm one of them!

"So I tell you what. You can take your stupid sexist misogynist fantasy... shine it up real nice... turn that sumbitch sideways...

"And stick it straight up your candy ass!"

There was a collective gasp of shock, and a ripple of anger seemed to pass through the crowd. She glanced about, and found that she was surrounded by a circle of glowering male faces. Hector seemed taken aback. His hand wandered up towards his head in an unconscious gesture, as if to verify that the Crown was still sitting atop his brow. He frowned.

"Temerarious termagant!" he sneered. "It would seem we must teach you the painful lesson taught to Hippolyta by Theseus and Heracles of old, or the lesson taught to Penthesilea by Achilles outside the walls of Troy... the lesson of humility!"

He stepped away from Cindy, and made an imperious gesture with his hand. "Warriors, harken! Glaucus; Sarpedon; Dolon; Rhesus; Antenor; Memnon, Diomedes! Attack!"

Roaring with anger, the named captains unsheathed and unslung their weapons -- swords, maces, axes. For some reason, despite their Grecian affectations, they didn't wield actual classical weapons, such as spears and the round shields called hoplons. But the medieval weapons gleamed dangerously in their hands all the same, as they closed in.

Mercedes Sheldon gave a startled cry and huddled closer to Cindy -- without her magic, she was as vulnerable as any civilian. "I'm not sure provoking them this way was the best move to make!" she cried.

"Stay close -- I'll protect you," Cindy grimly replied. When they rushed her, she would have to interpose her body in between Mercedes and any weapon blows. It would be a hard, awkward fight. They were at a marked disadvantage, unless the Shackles could somehow be released...

"I'll only hamper you. You've got to put me aside," Mercedes said urgently, her eyes wide. "I'll try not to get in the way. Fight your way out, escape if you can -- don't worry about me!"

"I'm not abandoning you!"

A sudden flash of inspiration struck her. "Mercedes -- do you have a medi-porter beacon?"

"Yes, but... oh!" Mercedes's face crumpled with dismay. "It's arcane in nature. The Shackles are shutting it down! The dampening field covers my entire body!"

"Right." Swiftly, Cindy ripped off her own medi-porter beacon and stuffed it down Mercedes's vest, pressing it firmly against her chest. "Mine isn't."

"Wait, what? No!"

Cindy cocked her fist. "Sorry, Mercedes!"

"No, don't...!"

With a single precisely-placed punch to the jaw, Cindy dealt Mercedes a knockout punch. Mercedes's eyes crossed, and she slumped to the floor, completely unconscious.

Immediately, the beacon activated, and the Midnighter vanished with a shimmering cloud to mark her passage to safety. Cindy's medi-porter was keyed to home -- their Supergroup base. Mercedes Sheldon would be safe there.

Meanwhile, close to a hundred Warriors, each one possessing the strength of several men, were closing in, weapons gleaming, battle fury glowing in their eyes.

Cindy swallowed hard, and put her fists up. Her arm muscles bunched up tightly as she hunched over in a defensive posture.

She had never fought this many at once, and without her medi-porter too. And these were not mere mooks. Just by looking, she could tell these great captains were a cut above the rest, definitely a notch above Menelaus. They circled her with predatory grace, and they were almost within striking range now.

Could even she, Battleborn, prevail against these odds...?

TO BE CONTINUED!