Debtor's War

"That would be very foolish of me, sottomessa mia, since I'm not even hungry."

Now that I'd looked into her eyes it was very difficult to tear myself away. She had used this supernatural force of personality to make those girls submit to the most horrendous suffering.

"But you are not my slave." It was a beautiful smile. "Come, fear not. Catch me."

We ran, climbed, leapt between buildings, the euphoria of her vitae and her presence carried me away even as the sound of furious battle rang from the walls.

The city wall was near impervious to the Turkish arsenal, so the gunners angled their fire up and over it instead. Missiles rained down onto Vienna, bounced off her cobbled streets and into the sides of her flimsy wooden houses. With their backs broken, the top heavy dwellings listed across the narrow streets like shipwrecks.

Something like a shooting star passed between the lady and I, a foot wide missile of burning pitch. It careened off the roof in front of me and bounced onto the house across the street. The lady turned tail and fled screaming into the night.

I stood there dumbstruck as the house began to burn, and shouts of panic rang in my ears. People poured out into the street carrying all they could save.

A statue peeled itself away from the wall of the nearby cathedral, a stone demon, all fangs and claws and dragon's wings; it flew straight past me swift as an arrow, into the black void beyond the wall. A flash of moonlight caught between the clouds outlined other winged creatures diving down towards the enemy. Dozens of them, now that I could see it, so many, raining hell back down on the cannoneers.

I used the gate towers and spire to find my bearings and stumbled to the barracks, holding the strips of fabric as close as I could to my breasts and turning my back to the wall. I got rid of the tail and costume as soon as I made it back to Enzo's quarters. He wasn't there. I quickly pulled on my scout's gear and gambeson, strapped on my daggers and ran to the West gate to find him.

He looked at me like he'd seen a ghost until I reached him, touched him. Then his relieved smile said everything I could have hoped for.

With ladders up against the walls they came, red eyed in frenzy, hungry ghosts with teeth like knives. We rained fire upon them, burning pitch and spirits, flaming ballista bolts, but below the wall was a never ending stream of troops as far as the eye could see. It seemed hopeless.

Enzo's men received orders to leave the relative safety of the tower and bolster the knights on the western wall. I could see the power in his eyes and in the eyes of his brothers in arms. I felt it too, a hunger for blood.

Then she was there again like a saint stepped out of an icon in her beautiful golden raiments. If I hadn't seen her butcher those women, I would have called her an angel of the almighty. She watched us scream and rage as we fought in close quarters. It turned out the Turks had demons of their own.

After the frenzied devil men with hungry red eyes a three foot claw latched onto the battlements. The vile body of an enormous centipede followed. Sword blows and musket balls bounced off its hide, the sharp edge of its claw cut through the bellies of three men in a single strike like living scimitars.

I felt Her blood well up inside me, muscles swelling, heart pounding. I dived between the men's legs, beneath the lethal mandibles and stabbed up over and over into its soft underbody until it fell upon me, chittering in its final agony. Blood poured from its wounds, hot and salty, I howled as someone pulled its twitching remains off me. The serrated edges of its feet had torn my hands and face to ribbons. Tufts of padding were hanging out of my gambeson. There were dozens more of them clambering over the edge of the wall.

Enzo rallied his men, "Underneath! Stick the pigs!"

He caught me under the arm and pulled me into a protective embrace. I could feel the tingle of power and a rush of adrenaline as all my wounds melted away. I laughed, hysterical, looking up to find the Lady but she'd gone.

A lull in the assault allowed us to tend the wounded. Not every soldier had received the Lady's dubious blessing. Brave men and boys were reduced to stinking meat on a scale I could never have imagined. In a single day well over a thousand defenders lay dead, god knows how many enemies.

Yet more were wounded in battle. Musket balls shattered limbs, left ragged wounds fit for nothing but tourniquet and amputation. I took my turn bearing stretchers and ferrying more ammunition to the arquebusiers. For a minute I was entranced watching the saw do its ugly work, unwelcome heat stirring in my loins. The sawbones would pin a man down and cover his face as they fought to save his life. I dared to hope the assault was waning but the commanders all knew better.

The wall between the West and South gate towers was the weak point. It had been reinforced on our side with rubble from the cleared slums, but it was barely ten feet thick in places. The creatures swarmed up it even as their biggest gun pounded away. You could feel the fevered pulse of those vibrations right through your belly. Yes, we mortal defenders were close to exhausted but we were not alone.

A trio of magnificent knights in shining plate mail strode fearlessly down the narrow battlements of the wall. Alongside the royal pennant of house Habsburg, they flew the standards of St George and St Florian. They tore demons into pieces and swung their great broadswords single handed, rallying the landsknecht gunners to stand fast and return fire.

Opposite them on the south tower, a robed figure appeared, glowing in eldritch blue light as he cast thunderbolts down onto the attackers. Beneath him on the wall, gunsmoke billowed in clouds as rows of well drilled armsmen hailed volleys of lead into the enemy. The grey smoke rose up around the sorcerer as he danced and spun, it looked like he was floating there. I could barely believe my eyes.

Four hours before dawn our reinforcements arrived. Exhausted we fell back, covered in the blood of men and monsters. We stumbled our way to the barracks, carried by the promise of water, food and sleep.

I tried to pick the blood and entrails out of my hair and Enzo laughed at me. He threw off his armour and fell into bed just as he was, for we only had eight hours to rest.

I knew the next shift would come all too quickly but I couldn't leave my hair matted with blood. I went out to the washroom behind the kitchen and waited for privacy. For the first time in six weeks I could pee without crying. Ropey old come slithered out of my arse when I squatted over the chamberpot but I hadn't eaten properly in days so that was all.

It was only in silence with the blood and water running off my body that the horrors of the night took shape. So many people had suffered and died. Enzo was so twisted in his affection but he loved me. That poison inside me, that alien vitality was palpable in every lonely heartbeat. I'd never felt stronger in my life.

I feared that she wasn't done with me, and at the same time I feared that she was. Why had his Lady singled me out for special treatment in the first place?

How could life carry on with its familiar indignity after this?

I sat naked beside the sleeping Enzo, and busied myself cleaning our kit as best I could. I didn't lie with him and close my eyes until the sun was well up.

*

In my dream I open my eyes and Her golden slippers are before my face. My knees ache on the stone floor. My battered arse is exposed to the world, and I moan, muffled by the moretta on my face. The stale taste of its wooden bit taints my mouth. We are not in the church.

A woman weeps. Great heaving heart broken sobs.

Then Her sweet voice.

"Again, Ivan."

I hear a snap, and the weeping woman shrieks in agony. I whimper, and Her left slipper lazily slides forward to meet my trembling right hand.

"Again," She murmurs.

Another snap and howl.

"Moretta mia, take a breath."

I hadn't realised I was holding my breath.

"When I feed, I have certain needs. So does my beloved. One more, Ivan."

Another snap. This time the wailing is more drawn out, and She laughs appreciatively.

"Perfect."

Her hand closes on my hair again, dragging me around to see. Her other hand grips my buttock so hard I feel my self control almost slip. To fight is to die, I know that. I saw Her with those girls. I see it now.

"Beatrice," She says in a sing-song voice, "open your legs and let us all see your pearl or it's coming off."

Weeping Beatrice lies on her back with her legs wide open, hands curled protectively over her vulva. As she exposes herself I wince. Enzo has done worse to me, but still.

Icy breath in my ear, cold fingers come to rest on my sex. She strokes lovingly up and down my soaking labia, grazing Her nails gently against my most sensitive place. The graceful dance of Her fingers sliding in and out feels so different. No plundering my depths, no painful stretch, yet I know She could tear me in half if She chose. I grunt like an animal as She gently molests me.

"Pay attention, moretta, I will teach you. "I only take what I need."

I wake with a start to the smell of grilled bacon. Neni has brought me a cooked breakfast in bed. My body is well rested, despite the dreams. They almost blur away to nothing in the light of day.

Questions burn on my tongue but I can't find words. A dull ache rings in my head if I try too hard.

As soon as I'm done, she clears the platter. Where is my master? I need him to beat me, fuck me, make me feel like myself again. I shake my head to clear it and the abhorrent thoughts scatter.

Neni lays out my chemise and gown with a smile. They are bright yellow cloth of gold.

*

Teeth nipped at my ear and the dream faded. "Sparrow. You fucking legend. You stayed up half the night to clean down all my leathers? Come here."

"How do we have time for this?" I said in a half-hearted protest. I clasped my hands together behind me and he tightened the familiar leather loop around my wrists. He folded my leg and bound it like that with his belt. The tension melted out of my body as he hooked my other foot up high.

I settled into the wide open shape he needed and sighed as he kissed my cunt. It was my favourite pose, hanging like the doomed animal I was. I threw my head back and he stroked my throat.

"How many?"

"Strikes?" I breathed faster, felt my face and chest flush red as the blood rushed to my head. He waited. "All of them."

"Here?" He licked the length of my slit and I shuddered. "Remember you're no use to me crippled."

"Test me." I pressed my knees wider. "I'm hungry for you, master. Beat my cunt and use me."

He frowned and raised an eyebrow.

"Please master?" I added earnestly.

His meat tasted strong, salty and musky, with undertones of oil and leather. We settled into my favourite rhythm of slow deep strokes in and out. He told me a tale as he fucked my face.

"Have you heard of the infamous Contessa di Montefiore?" He paused long enough for me to shake my head. I was smiling around his cock.

"She was a bitch to her peasant folk. Her father in law paid us to waylay her carriage presumably for inheritance reasons since no one gave a shit about the peasants."

I pressed my eyes shut tight and swallowed hard as my throat contracted around the tip.

"I soon put her mouth to good use. Only trouble was pretty soon she didn't even gag on a fist, never mind a cock. That spoiled it for me."

He stopped, deep in my throat as I retched and coughed. Long snail trails of slime bubbled up around his shaft and ran up my nose, tears streamed into my hair. He was so close to orgasm, pulsing gently in my mouth. I lived for this.

I felt him curl against me, kissing my sex, allowing me to breathe. I moaned and thrust my hips, slathered his cock with wet kisses, worked him deep into my heaving throat and held him there until he came.

"You know why I'll never fuck you here?" He caressed my hungry cunt.

I shook my head, still a little dizzy from lack of air.

"Think, sweet sparrow."

"Mmm." I gasped a few times to clear my head, spat out ribbons of snot. "I don't care. I love you master." I kissed his semi hard cock and fluttered my tongue on the head.

"You're no fun at all," he teased.

"I need to please you, even if the thought of it... you know... makes me feel like shit on your shoes."

He went quiet then.

His cock softened.

He let me down onto the bed but kept me bound. Here it comes, I thought, another beating, another invasion of my poor backside but I was wrong. He pulled me around to finger me again. So skilled at playing his instrument, he buried his fingers inside my cunt and made me come on his hand.

I knew he needed anal sex, and so once the stars cleared from my eyes it clicked. That was someone else's arse I'd tasted on his cock. I don't know why it made me so fucking wet.

"There she is." He leaned down and kissed my soiled mouth, claiming it once again. He circled my clit slowly and firmly until I spent again with a little gush. He pressed his face between my legs and lapped up every drop.

*

Salmo ordered that the cobblestone be lifted by sundown. So much damage had been done by cannon balls rebounding off the paving. This was back breaking work and it led to people dropping from exhaustion. An extra bread dole was organised, cooked in the castle kitchens and handed out from the market square.

Civilians organized fire patrols and stretcher bearers amongst themselves. Even the friars came out to work ferrying the wounded to hospital.

The men were not kind to Tamas. He ate with Neni and I in the kitchen because the common room was unbearable, and he didn't dare go out to the latrine alone. This made no sense to me at all but he explained.

"The cruelest ones would happily fuck me themselves. If they kill me, they kill the part of themselves that is weak."

"They not dare." Neni said, gripping his hand protectively.

"Wouldn't," Tamas corrected. "Lófasz!"

Neni shook her head in frustration.

"Why aren't they being shits to me?" I asked.

Neni cuffed the back of my head and laughed. It was a delight to hear it.

"Erzsike, you not see? Félnek a katonáktól."

Tamas smiled too, "She says they wouldn't dare."

"Mondd az igazat," Neni scolded. "They scared from Erzsike, and knife!"

"Of!" Tamas said wearily. "They are scared of our Elizabeth and her knives."

My heart broke for Tamas, the spark was gone from his eyes already. It's human nature to want what we can't have and then cry when we get it.

It's not like everyone was sure that Enzo had fucked Tamas, but we were all living in each other's pockets. Everyone knew they'd visited the brothel together without me. I imagined Tamas finally getting what he was so afraid of. I didn't judge him for his fear, the whole situation could blow up in our faces any day. That said, Enzo's hundred had too much respect to take him out on nothing but rumours.

Enzo still wanted me around, but everything had changed. We still slept together. He still bound my hands and ploughed my throat if I asked him to, but it literally felt like he was tending me as he would a beloved animal. He never made a mark that wasn't gone by daybreak, I confess, I missed the deep ache of bruises on my tits and arse, and I dreaded the truth.

She had claimed me.

*

There were any number of wholesome tasks I could have set my mind to. Instead, I went to see Claudia at work. She was in a good position to judge what was really going on between Tamas and Enzo.

I knew Stojan, the doorman. Before Enzo came along, Stojan often sat with me by the fire. He mostly kept the peace, but from time to time he did enjoy turning drunk men upside down and shaking the coin out of their pockets; only if they caused trouble. He was full of stories, and generous with his coin. He acknowledged me with a grunt as I entered the place.

It was laid out like an honest boarding house across three floors. Down at ground level customers and whores mingled freely, musicians played and beer flowed. My sister wasn't around. Her room was under the eaves, I couldn't just wander up there. Customers paid for rooms, not girls, so I was free to buy a drink and loiter. I made small talk about the war. A couple of girls were volunteering during the day, I let them talk about it.

It wasn't long until I saw mistress Gerta coming down the stairs. She was adjusting her clothes, a broad grin on her face. She was as shameless as I. More unsettling was Claudia trailing after her, bright red in the face with her gorgeous tits hanging out of her gown.

I'd come to see what she knew about Tamas and Enzo, now that couldn't be further from my mind. Neither my sister nor the Madame saw me staring. The girls talking to me noticed, and paused their rant about the market being closed. One made herself scarce, the other looked at me with a twinge of sympathy.

"Leave it love, it's not what you think."

"Love?" I spat.

"Hey. Claudia and I are friends, I care about her too."

I scowled at her. "Don't tell me, it's part of the show?"

"Relax," she said. Her eyes drifted to the wicked pair of daggers on my belt. "I'm Hannah." She offered me a hand to shake, kiss, I don't know. I ignored it.

I forced myself to sit back, let the tension seep out of my body. Nothing to be gained by being stupid.

"Whew." Hannah smiled, "I didn't take you for the jealous type."

I should have left. I didn't. I sat drinking rough beer with a whore and watched Gerta make a spectacle of my sister.

Claudia's once spare frame had rounded out into beautiful hourglass curves. Her tits defied gravity, milk white mounds that jiggled and swayed as she walked. Even with her shoulders slumped in shame the pale pink nipples pointed skyward. They walked to the hearth, drawing a few whistles and catcalls.

"She's fucking gorgeous, isn't she?" Hannah said quietly. I couldn't disagree, I'd always found her beautiful, but this was something else.

Gerta pulled off the linen veil with a sharp tug, and Claudia's honey blonde curls fell across her face and down her back. I noticed her bound wrists, the no nonsense rope. I got my first good look at her tear stained face as she lifted her bound hands high above her head. Gerta hooked her to the low ceiling, hanging with her toes off the ground like a cut of meat.

Claudia pressed her eyes tight shut and threw her head back as Gerta deftly unveiled her to us all. I took in the flash of golden pubic hair, neatly trimmed, the flawless skin of her perfect body glowing in the firelight. A few more whistles and lewd comments and the room settled back down. Gerta put a wooden bowl on the nearest table, smacked Claudia's rump to set her swaying, and moved off to other things.

"What the fuck?" I breathed. I was afraid that dozens of men were about to molest my sister, but nothing really happened. Apart from the odd wandering hand no one touched her. People threw small coins into the wooden bowl as they left, coppers that's all. Beggars coin.

Claudia's hands turned a dusky blue colour. She writhed and twisted every now and then, swaying on her hook, but her face was serene. Sweat ran down her curves and matted her hair. She was in her own world, she never noticed me there.

"I know it's fucked up, but Madame really likes her. It's not like they do this every day. She doesn't mind."

"Is that what she says?" I felt my anger sliding towards despair.

"Stojan'll get her down soon. Can't hang like that for too long."

Hannah was right. The big man unhooked Claudia's wrists and moved her to the table with the bowl on it. She arranged herself head down arse up, damp hair sticking to her face. It was a captivating sight. People couldn't help touching her as they passed, half a dozen people fingered her. The doorman let them have their fun and shooed them away after a few strokes. The coins kept coming.