Enchantress 2 - Warrior Duchess

"New arm Igor? Looks good!" said Octavia.

"Yeth mithtreth, it ith incredibly uthfull in the library." Igor now has three arms because everybody needs an extra hand. "I could arrange one for you."

"I could think of a use, but right now, no thank you," said Octavia, "we're here to see Blodwen and to use your clacks station." She handed Igor a sheet of paper and said, "Can you send this?"

"Yeth mithtreth," slobbered Igor, "Thee ith here in madam'th houthhold, if you could wait here I will anounth you. Who may I thay ith with you?"

"Eryri Brawnkin," said Octavia. "Her husband and son are being held hostage by the Peregrine and Aegir Mining company.

"Yeth Mithtreth," and with a bow Igor left the room.

After Igor left, Eryri turned to Octavia and said, "Where are we?

"We're in Überwald and this is the castle of Lady Erica von Überwald." Seeing the worried look on Eryri's face Octavia quickly added, "Don't worry, she's actually quite nice." The reassurance fell on deaf ears, in a land full of strange wonders, Lady Erica stands out. She is the only person on the disc that is both a vampire and a werewolf. Nick once fearlessly asked her how she decides to attack her prey, what makes her choose between werewolf or vampire.

Lady Erica said, "That depends on if I'm peckish or thirsty."

Worried that Octavia got her into deeper trouble than she expected Eryri asked, "Who are we here to see?"

"The clacks is my primary reason; this is the quickest clacks access we have." By clacks she was referring to the continent spanning system of semaphore towers that transmit messages. Now messages can be transmitted in minutes rather than weeks.

"And to see Blodwen, I have a message for her," said Octavia, and when she saw that Eryre didn't seem to understand she said "Blodwen Rhysdottir."

"The Low queen?" Eryri nearly shrieked, "You're on first name basis with the Low Queen?"

"Uh huh," nodded Octavia, "she's very nice, you'll like her."

Eryri was now fully panicking. Dwarves and humans differ in one sense, the dwarves are always striving to dig deeper, they are always looking down for advancement, therefore the Low Queen is the most powerful sovereign in all of dwarvendom. Human royalty is over common folk, dwarven royalty is under common folk.

"I'm going to curtsey when I speak to her today," continued Octavia.

"Why? I thought you were buddies."

"After what she hears what I say she may want to cut my head off. If I am kneeling it will make it easier for the both of us."

The Low Queen of Dwarvendom, Blodwen Rhysdottir and her host Lady Erica von Überwald swept into the room and as Eryri bowed Octavia spread her gingham skirt in a deep curtsey. "Octavia! Rise! We are friends and allies!"

"Possibly not after what I have to say, your highness," said Octavia without raising her eyes.

"Stand and speak, friend," boomed the Low Queen.

Octavia slowly stood and finally her eyes met Blodwen's. "The Duke of Wægn has been abducted by agents of the Peregrine and Aegir Mining, I am now ruler of the Duchy of Wægn. All lands and mineshafts under contract to dwarves in the Duchy of Wægn I hereby claim, I lay claim to all people and equipment that was under your rule and will hold them until I am satisfied with the return of the Duke. If anyone disputes my decision I will use whatever means available to convince them otherwise."

Blodwen stared at Octavia and Eryri wide eyed, not believing what she just heard... her friend Octavia just declared war on the dwarfs! "Is this true? How can you prove such charges?"

"I have spoken with an integral member of the team that kidnapped the Duke."

"Who would do such a thing?" the queen demanded loudly.

"I did," said Eryri in a tiny voice.

"Your majesty!" said Octavia quickly. "I am satisfied that she was forced into this, Rifty Peregrine and his confederates are holding her husband and son hostage until she complies. I have absolved her of all responsibility, she risked their lives coming to me and I wasted so much time..."

"What is their names?" demanded the queen.

"Her husband Lars Ericson and her son is Eric Larson," said Octavia as she held her trembling friend.

Low Queen Blodwen Rhysdottir's jaw clenched and she softly patted Eryri's shoulder and said, "walk with me," and she led Eryri into Lady Erica's mansion while Lady Erica led Octavia back into L-Space. "What's going on?" but Lady Erica gave Octavia the librarian's salute, a finger pressed to the lips requesting silence.

Octavia watched Lady Erica von Überwald walk from behind with jealousy, Lady Erica was tall and slender with well-defined breasts, waist, and hips, a tall, slim hourglass. Her black dress fit her like a second skin, her plunging neckline never showed any more skin than she wanted it to, if Octavia tried to wear a dress like that she would show the world what an enchantress looks like in many places. "Just my ass weighs more than she does," Octavia mumbled.

"Pardon?"

Octavia had forgotten how perfect a werewolf's hearing was. Might as well be honest. "Just complaining about how perfect your ass is compared to mine."

"Zare are prices to pay for ziss fikure, one uf zem is schpending centuries vishing I looked more like you."

"Seriously?" Octavia always thought she looked fat and undesirable, that she was only attracting men because her tits were big, she did understand the power of large knockers.

The vampire turned on Octavia and whirled her around then pulled her back against her and her hands began running all over Octavia's body. "Zis body I voult kill for! So lush! Zo smooth!" she cupped Octavia's large round breasts and shook them. "Zeez booobs I voult schqueez all nacht long! I woult never exit zee schower! Ziss ist ze body zat men vant, unt I haf zee body zat vomen vant. Zo borink." She pinched Octavia's nipples and Octavia yelped at the sudden sensation.

"Sorry, I'm a bit sensitive. We're... expecting our first."

"Oh! I am zo zorry! I dit not realize. Haf you told anyone yet?"

"No, not before we tell my father." Just then they turned the last corner and as they entered the bookstore Octavia found that the place was filled with Bruces. Overcome with gratitude, Octavia ran up to Bruce Dinkum the librarian of Bugarup University and threw her arms around him. "Thank you," she gasped.

"Don't thank me Sheila," said Bruce, "the boys heard that Nick had been Nicked and came to help. We couldn't hold em' back." All wore their slouch hats with dangling corks which were their badge of rank, camouflaged robes and all were carrying some form of weapon.

"I don't know what to say," gasped Octavia, her eyes filling with tears.

"Then don't say anything, just give us a hug."

As Octavia hugged Bruce, Gaspode hopped up on the seat behind the desk and peered into the desk drawer, there was no key there meaning that Nick was still alive, but the last time he looked he saw what looked like the ghost of a key fading away. He could only guess what that meant, and he didn't want to think about it.

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After several days of rowing assisted by a formidable following gust, Axemir Stronginthehead and his sinking rowboat were blown ashore by the gale force winds onto a pebble beach. The winds coming off the ocean were so strong that they blew his rowboat to pieces the moment he climbed out of it and blew him inland where he collapsed behind a huge sheltering rock. Grateful to be on dry land, Axemir rolled over to kiss the ground when he noticed he wasn't alone behind the rock, he was there in the company of a dead soldier.

The dwarf didn't recognize the armor, it was a vastly different armor than what he was used to seeing. It was made up of two inch square plates of gold that were wired together. It looked flexible and comfortable as armor goes. He decided that since the soldier was dead he should try it on, even though he was not a doctor he was able to determine that the soldier was dead. The fact that the armor was occupied by a skeleton was a dead giveaway. The tunic piece of the armor hung down to Axemir's knees, which worked out good for Axemir. He checked the armor for any weapons he could take and he found a slightly usable dagger. Slightly usable because the dagger was composed of a soft metal that would be turned away by the cheapest armor but being made of gold Axemir found it impossible to put down.

Sticking the knife in his belt he travelled inland on shaking legs, he needed some food, preferably rat, anything but cabbage. As darkness set in Axemir found a small farm that appeared to be abandoned and inside the single room hut he found four skeletons armored in gold, dead at a game of cards. The dwarf collected the gold daggers and the gold poker chips, but one skeleton appeared to be an officer, his uniform had aluminum decorations and he carried a tin dagger.

Along one wall were several huge clay pots sealed with a form of paper that was glued to the mouth of the clay pot. Some pots sloshed so he figured they were wine or vinegar, the others didn't, so maybe they're food? He's heard of the dreaded shekim, something made of cabbage and was supposedly buried underground until it rotted. He wasn't sure what came after the rotting, possibly eating, he wasn't sure. The only rotted food that dwarves ate was a delicacy - rotted rat meat.

He sliced open the paper seal and a pungent odor filled the hut, and what paint that remained on the walls began to peel off. Axemir sniffed the stench that was so raucous you could actually see it and thought, "not too bad," and he stuck his gold dagger in the pot and came out with a quivering lump of opaque goo that looked as appetizing as it smelled. Fearing the worst, Axemir took a bite, and then another, and another, and another, it was incredible! Every bit as putrid as rotting rat flesh and just as delicious!

This was his first filling meal since he left the mines of Bonk. He ate with relish, savoring every delicious, decaying bite. Even when the human sat down next to him, he didn't run off in horror, Axemir didn't want to be hungry in the afterlife. The painfully average looking human speared a lump of the offal then sniffed it and took a bite. "Definitely an acquired taste," he said.

"'s dlishus!" said Axemir around a mouthful of the gelatinous blob. "What is it?"

"It's called shekim, even the people who make it, save it for times of famine, which around here come quite often, they dread eating it but it was once cabbage. I was betting the dwarves would love it. It looks like I was right." His mouth full of faux-rat, Axemir could only nod in agreement. "You know, if you survive the next few weeks you stand to make a lot of money setting up trade agreements between the Agatean Empire and the Dwarves for this stuff."

Axemir felt his blood turn to ice. Agatean Empire? He thought about it, he found gold being used for cheap items, daggers for low ranking soldiers, poker chips, low denomination coins while tin and aluminum are used for more precious items like ceremonial daggers and badges of rank. Gold was as common as tin in the Agatean empire, lighter elements like tin and aluminum were rare. Everyone outside of the Agatean empire realized that there is a famine going on in Agatean lands and his body may end up feeding a politician. "How is the duke doing?" Axemir asked, hoping to change the direction of the conversation.

"Not well I'm sad to say."

Axemir's world began to implode, he turned to speak to the assassin but the man whose face Axemir could not describe was gone. Outside the windows of the hut there were people moving around out there and the clanking of their armor was not a good sign for the dwarf.

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After Octavia returned to Creel Springs a message arrived to report to the king, but Octavia and Gaspode were already enroute to the castle. Lady Erica von Überwald had called for her carriage before leaving for Creel Springs via L-Space and after Octavia tearfully thanked all the Ecksans for coming {most were named Bruce} she climbed into Lady Erica's coach with blacked out windows and were racing up to the castle at breakneck speed. Octavia was terrified at what her king would say, she had declared war on a group of dwarves! In a kingdom that hasn't seen war for hundreds of years, she's holding the position of a duchess for a few months and she declares war. "He's going to cut my head off."

"Nonsense," said Lady von Überwald. "He vill unterschtant, und if he doesh not, hiz vife vill, und schee vill inform him uf vut it means to be a voman whose heart vas rripped out."

"What if he doesn't?"

"Zen... you tell me. You are zee enchantress... Ah! Exzelent! Ve are here!"

Somehow Lady von Überwald's team made the four hour ride in one hour. They exited the coach under the portcullis of the castle and the coachman was pouring water over the smoking axles while the groom was cooling off the steaming horses. Harold Lorechestershire met Octavia and Lady Erica at the portcullis and ushered them in as Gaspode raced to catch up with them. They found themselves in a small room next to the king's reading room. It appeared to be set up for teaching lessons to the royal children, luckily the table they were sitting around was set up for adults.

"Our children were supposed to start lessons this week," started King Verence sadly. "When the duke did not show up I sent a rider to Creel Springs and Gaspode informed us that Pommeraie de la Montesquieu was..." He stopped to catch his emotions, he almost wept with anger and even though Octavia was sure she had no more tears she was close to weeping herself, King Verence was the only person they knew that used Nick's proper first name rather than calling him Nick.

Soldiering on the king sighed. "The low queen Blodwen Rhysdottir sent me a clacks stating your intentions but she would like to know of any changes since... Lady Erica?"

Lady Erica was shaking her head side to side then finally said, "She doesn't know."

"What," Octavia looked confused. "What don't I know?"

"Octavia darling," said Lady Erica turning her chair to face Octavia and she took Octavia's hands in hers. "Your friend Eryri Brawnkin... her husband Lars Ericson unt her schon Eric Larson... zey vere kilt in a mine tunnel collapse seven veeks ago."

"How is that... When Rifty Peregrine grabbed them he must have... I don't understand," Octavia said finally.

"Rifty never had zem darling. He vas given notification of zer demise but he tolt Eryri zat zey were beink held. Ven ve left Uberwald ze qveen vas informink Eryri of zer deathz as we left."

"Oh no... poor Eryri..." and Octavia found she did have tears left. She cried for her friend for a long time, and when she finally pulled herself together she found herself looking out a castle window that faced Bear mountain, the mighty peak that was bare of life on the top mile of elevation. It seemed to call to her, the mountain was telling her they were ready for each other now. Then she sat in icy stillness with Gaspode on her lap, and as she stroked the fur of Nick's best friend she realized that Gaspode was her brother-in-law now. She looked at the king and queen and said, "I need to get to work."

"Let's go," said King Verence and he led an angry Octavia into the throne room. The kings advisors and staff waited anxiously; rumors of a royal being kidnapped were running rampant through the capital town. When the king entered the room people started demanding answers, shouting questions and acting disrespectfully. The king raised a hand and silence descended on the throne room but the damage was done, Octavia retreated within herself and she cut these crazy people out of her stream of thought. All she wanted was to snuggle in front of a warm fire with Nick and Gaspode and watch the calendar tick down to the day that Nick would deliver their son. But since she can't do that, she needs to fight to get that back.

Outside of her head the king was trying to explain why things had advanced to this point. Suddenly an old man in a military uniform grabbed Octavia by the arm and said, "This is all your fault."

Something clicked in her mind, something that Nick had talked about doing, it centered around this wizen old man who did not earn her respect. "Who gave you permission to touch me?" the words boomed and echoed through the high drafty ceilings of the throne room. When the old soldier didn't release her arm she asked again, "Is this what you do? Stalk the palace and grab innocent women like your army grabs the women of Wægn?" Her voice echoed in the castle like thunder terrifying all in the room. The old general tried to let go, but his hand would not release from her arm, and this time she shrieked in terror, "UNHAND ME!" and she pulled out a sixteen inch short sword from under her cloak.

"Lord General Carnarvon! Release her!" boomed the king.

"I'm sorry your highness, but I must protect my baby!" cried Octavia and she rose the blade to strike and at the same time she released the magic hold she held on the general. He let go of her arm and fell back wordlessly, gasping and looking at his hand like it was a strange animal. She touched on a sad part of Lancre history that was kept from the kings ears, but the tales of the women of Creel Springs reached her ears. She pointed the dagger at his throat and cried, "had you been protecting the women of the Duchy of Wægn instead of using us as unpaid whores every time you marched your army through our streets you may not have had such a hard time letting go of my body. We are not your sporting girls!" The point of the blade touched his bobbing adams apple as she cried, "The next time a woman of the Duchy of Wægn is raped by a member of your army, you have just declared war on us and We Will Respond."

"General Carnarvon! Are these accusations true? Is my army merely a pack of rapists?"

"Of course not sire, this woman is obviously mad... aack!" the point of Octavia's blade pressed harder against his throat.

The throne room was silent but for some uncomfortable muttering in the background, then one voice called out, "Aye, it is true."

"Grann... uh Esmirelda?" gasped the king, this was Granny Weatherwax, the senior witch throughout the disc and a subject of his {so much as she'd allow} "Were you...?" the unasked question hung in the air as heavy as a Ramtop mountain lion and twice as deadly.

Granny rose to her full height, which was impressive for a woman of her years. Slim and as straight as a rail, the years didn't lay heavily on her shoulders, they wouldn't dare. Granny wore her decades as badges of honor and her wrinkles as stripes of rank. "No, I was not touched, there were a pair of men that tried, and they ended their days in a pond believing they were tadpoles."

Beside granny rose Nanny Ogg, short, dumpy with a face like a friendly raisin, but today she wore a scowl. "When our Shawn declared to join the army, he returned with stories of their "recruitin' tactics." Oi tol 'im "Shawn" oi says, "You join the palace guard and not that band of rapists," and he's been with the palace guard ever since and is a better man for it."

King Verance was shocked, his army was recruiting rapists. He looked over at the head guard, Shawn Ogg, and asked, "Trooper Ogg, is this true?"

Shawn snapped to attention, his ill-fitting armor followed him to attention by a moment or two and he said, "Yes sir. General Carnarvon told my class that it was a recruiting tool and a reward for a job well done."

King Verance turned to his most trusted advisor, his queen, surely she would know what to think of this situation, but when he turned to her she was staring at her feet wishing it would all go away. Rage boiled in the normally thoughtful king, but this is the hard part about kinging, dealing with bad people. "Trooper Sidwell?"