Heretic Ch. 02

With one hand she pulled the weapon free and turned. With a thrust she slammed the spear into the chest of a ghoul that had leapt for her back. The blade went clean through, bursting out the demon's back in a spray of blood. The spear's shaft snapped in shower of splinters as the ghoul's body crashed into her.

Borne to the ground, Maelice squirmed an arm free from the beast as it gasped for its last breaths. It bled over her in its final moments, but still she smashed a mailed first into the creature's face. A fang splintered and a second strike cracked the bone of its cheek. It slumped off the nun, and Maelice quickly rolled to the side.

A second spear slammed into the earth where her head had been just heartbeats before.

A ghoul landed beside her, spraying its drool across the forest floor. It turned to her, and caught a sword in the thigh. It shrieked in agony as blade bit into bone. Maelice kicked the demon's head. It stumbled, twisting its leg and flaying muscle from its bone. It collapsed, and whimpered in the dirt.

Flipping onto her stomach, Maelice forced herself up onto her feet. The others pursuing her did not pause to aid the fallen. Some though descended upon them, to tear at flesh and rip whatever valuables they could from the dead or dying beasts. Maelice did not turn to look, even as the sound of skin tearing and sinew snapping followed her.

On the run once more, Maelice winced. Her lungs were starting to burn, and pain was starting to seep through her muscles. Still she didn't let herself stop. The ghouls had no concern except to take. She began to duck behind trees, and spears slammed into their trunks.

Another spear scraped along her shoulder, tearing the habit and sparking against the mail beneath.

When she finally reached the road, Maelice almost skidded as she turned to run back towards the abbey. She could see its walls through the trees. Even the gloomy overcast sky seemed bright after the depths of the forest.

A large club swung from the side and struck Maelice in the chest. Air burst from her lungs and she gasped as she was slammed onto the ground. A wheezing cackle sounded above her as the ghoul with the sack of hands stepped over her. Her eyes flicked along the head of the club, she noted the dark stains and clumps of hair stuck in the wooden grain.

"No, I will take hands, perhaps that blue eye, leave brown one for wolves," the ghoul said, and lifted up its club.

Maelice grasped her blade and thrust upwards. The point slammed home under the ghoul's chin. Crimson smeared steel glimmered from within its maw and the blade punched through the roof of its mouth and scraped the top of its skull.

The body went limp, and its arms flopped to the sides. The club fell from useless fingers and bounced on the road. Maelice pushed upwards, and slammed her shoulder into the demon's chest. Clumps of brain fell into its mouth and out onto the ground as they fell from its maw, while the corpse flopped lifeless to the dirt.

Gasping for breath, Maelice glanced back, only to see a forest full of eyes that stared at her. Long strings of drool fell from the trees, glinting in what little light there was.

Maelice turned away and finished running towards the doors. Doors that thankfully opened as she rushed forward. Two sisters pushed at the great oaken barriers, and Rochelle stood just beyond with crossbow in hand.

The call for the gate to close came as soon as Maelice had gotten through them. The lay sisters immediately began to pull them shut as Maelice fell to her knees just before Rochelle with heavy breaths.

Rochelle did not even glance to the warrior until the large slab of wood was placed in its bracket. As soon as it slid home, her face turned downwards, and Maelice was surprised to see her expression softening.

"It seems you gave them a blow Sister. But, I can guess our tribulation is not at an end," Rochelle said, as she slung her crossbow and knelt in front of Maelice.

"No. Not yet," Maelice admitted, as she watched the woman before her, remembered how she'd entered that cell. The word that had spilled from her lips. Rochelle seemed untroubled though, even as doubt gnawed at Maelice's mind.

"Still, you have done more than we have. Come, let us get you cleaned up," Rochelle said, and offered an arm for Maelice.

With only a few heartbeats of hesitation, Maelice took the help to her feet.

~***~

Her heart had only just started to calm when Rochelle led her into the lavetorium. Maelice flicked her gaze about the room. Along one side of the room was a stone trough with pipes fixed to the wall above it, on the other were a few wooden tubs sitting empty. There was a grate in the floor as well, directly in the centre of the room, through which Maelice could hear the gurgle of the stream that fed the abbey.

"Come. Let's get you out of those clothes," Rochelle said as she turned on a tap set above the tub. Water groaned through the lead pipes of the abbey, before it began to fall and fill the selected tub.

Maelice stood, hands at her sides, and stared at the other nun. Rochelle rose, looked back, and sighed before she spoke.

"I know what you saw last night. Which is why I think we should talk," the woman said, before both she and Maelice turned their heads to the room's entrance as the slap of shoes caught their attention.

Elke came into view, one hand on her crucifix. When she saw Maelice she gasped, and crossed herself before bowing her head in prayer.

"Sister Elke. Sister Maelice will need her clothes laundered. Would you over look this, and get one of the other sisters to get her fresh garb?" Rochelle said, and Elke's head shot up, accusation in her eyes. She flicked her gaze to Maelice a moment, who just nodded, even as she noted that the bags under Elke's eyes were worse today.

"As you wish Sister," Elke said as she walked to the cupboard on the wall to pull out a towel. Rochelle lifted an eyebrow.

Plain and white, Elke unfolded the towel and held it upwards to hide Maelice's form. The warrior gave a soft smile of thanks as she began to undress in relative privacy while Elke stared at Rochelle. The room fell into silence and Maelice faced the wall as she pulled off her garments, letting the mail hit the floor with a loud thump that had Elke jump slightly. The sword and her belt though she set carefully next to the trough.

Naked and hidden from sight only by the towel that Elke held, Maelice ran a hand through her hair.

"I will need shears as well," Maelice said and took the corners of the towel to wrap the linen around herself. Elke nodded, and bent to gather the garb of the warrior as Maelice moved towards the tub.

"They are kept in the cupboard. I can handle that Sister Elke, now please, go about your chores that Sister Maelice may recuperate," Rochelle said as she shut off the flow of water. Elke, hands full of Maelice's filthy garb and armour, glared at her fellow nun. She said nothing though, and soon departed the room with a final look of concern at Maelice.

As the sound of Elke's footfalls faded into the cloister, Maelice dropped the towel from her form. It would have to be washed now, defiled as it was by the unholy gore it'd pulled from her skin.

Rochelle stared out at the door, and let out a heavy sigh before she turned. Maelice felt the woman's eyes upon her back, but she had been under no illusion that the woman ever planned to leave. So instead she waited for the nun to speak.

"The girl fears me. Fears all of her sisters really. Perhaps even hates us," Rochelle said as Maelice stepped into the tub. The waters were cool, and calming. Already though they were turning grimy as they lapped along Maelice's bloodied form.

"She saw the same as I did last night. Heard the same words from your lips. I think she's right to be afraid, for I doubt that whoever is in that cell, is actually a patient," Maelice said, and turned her head to regard Rochelle who sought out a cloth.

"She was at first. Now, she is a protector. Much like you are," Rochelle admitted, and Maelice frowned, and faced forward in the tub as Rochelle pulled a cloth and a set of shears from the cupboard.

"What is she? What defilement have you brought to this place?" Maelice demanded, as her eyes slid to the sword across the room. Rochelle noted Maelice's gaze and looked over her shoulder to the sword briefly.

"Let any one among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her, Jesus had said. Your entire life is throwing stones Sister, it is what you were trained to do, but you are not devoid of sin yourself. The Mother Superior has told me of you. Has told me of Safina," Rochelle said, and Maelice slid to a sit again.

"How much has she told you of her?" Maelice asked, and was surprised to feel a gentle hand upon her shoulder, followed by a soft squeeze.

"Everything. I am sorry for your loss. Just as I am happy that you got to experience her love," Rochelle said, and pulled her hand away as Maelice tilted her head. She watched as Rochelle dipped the cloth in a bucket of clean water, scented with soap.

Emilie herself had been far less forgiving when she discovered of the affair. But she had also said she would tell no one.

"Christ also preached forgiveness. My own sins may be weakness of the flesh, and of the heart, but what happens in this convent... the forces of Hell do not compare to a pretty woman," Maelice said, but even still let Rochelle's hands guide that cloth across her neck and shoulders, washing away the filth and uncovering a few darkening bruises.

"Perhaps. But, she wishes to speak with you. Give you answers, and perhaps peace. She has taken the nightmares from us after all," Rochelle said before she lifted one of Maelice's arms. Water dripped from along the hard lines of muscle and fingertips, while the nun gently washed away the blood.

Despite herself, Maelice found it relaxing. It brought back one of the happier memories she'd had with Safina, stolen away in a bathhouse after a battle. A long wash, followed by entangled limbs and hungry lips.

Head leaned back, Maelice let out a long breath as she stared at the ceiling. She watched Rochelle from the corner of her eyes.

"I'll speak to your... mistress then. In the end, I am here to protect you, and what's in the forest is far worse than a seductress," Maelice said and turned her head to see Rochelle smile.

"I'll give you the key then, to her cell. But it is comforting to hear those words from you. Most would claim the seductress far worse than a murderer," Rochelle said as she set Maelice's hand on the edge of the tub and stood to move around to start washing the other.

"Perhaps it is just my own weakness," Maelice said, closing her eyes as Rochelle continued to diligently wash her clean. But each stroke of the cloth was soft, gentle. Brushing along skin as drops broke the water's surface. It was, calming.

Heartbeats went uncounted and Maelice found her breaths growing deeper. Sleep swirled at the edges of her mind as her skin tingled from the continued touches of the other nun. When it paused, Maelice didn't move, enjoying a moment of peace in a world of horrors.

There was a clack behind her, pushing the tendrils of sleep away as Rochelle sat behind Maelice. There was no cloth now as fingers began to rub along the tops of her shoulders. Rochelle dug into muscle, and Maelice felt her shoulders slowly slumping. She worked slowly, without a word, and though Maelice knew what the woman was doing, she could not bring herself to stop it.

The dangers of a seductress. She was certainly thankful Elke was not here to witness this.

Head pushed upwards, Maelice let out a low groan as Rochelle's thumbs pushed along the back of her neck. Fingers gently pushed into the muscles from the base of her skull and down to the slope of her shoulders. Tension ebbed away as water lapped at Maelice's chest. Her head leaned forward as Rochelle continued.

Memories of dark olive skin, the taste of salt upon her tongue, whispered across Maelice's mind. Memories she had long tried to bury that slithered upwards now, to mask the horror of what was to follow. Safina's welcoming smile, the press of her lips, even the curves of her breasts beneath Maelice's tongue. They all came upwards again while Rochelle worked.

Rochelle's hands slid downwards, rubbing against Maelice's chest. Neither woman said a word, and Maelice lingered in the sensations of the present as she remembered the pleasures of the past. She knew it was not Safina's hands upon her skin now, but could not forget their stolen moments. Fingers thrusting inside each other, tongues pressing deep between each other's thighs.

Head leaned back again, Maelice let out another soft moan as Rochelle's hands slipped beneath the waters. Fingers led, curling over the rise of breasts before palms glided along. She began to rub, a firm pressure that pushed down into the muscle beneath. She did not ignore Maelice's nipples though. Fingertips rubbed them in tight circles, as they stiffened to the sensation. Maelice moaned again, as she remembered Safina's tongue at her bosom. That tongue had played much the same as these fingers now.

Breath coming faster now, Maelice's back arched, water coursing off her chest. Still no words came from the nun above, as she continued to firmly massage at the warrior's breasts. The heels of Rochelle's hand dug firmly into the pliant flesh, while fingers teased Maelice's nipples playfully.

Slowly, the hands eventually pulled back, and Maelice felt herself relaxing in the tub again, despite the fire in her loins. Her breathing settled, and she was about to open her eyes when she felt lips against hers.

The memories of Safina fluttered away, for these were certainly not her lips. But Maelice felt herself drawn into the kiss, earning a muffled groan of surprise when she opened her mouth to drag her tongue across Rochelle's.

The kiss broke, and Maelice slowly opened her eyes, peering into Rochelle's. The other nun was flushed, but she did not look away.

"Your hair is not so long. Do you still wish it cut?" Rochelle asked then, and Maelice smirked. She reached up, water running down her arm, dribbling across the surface of the tub, and grasped the back of Rochelle's head.

Maelice pulled her down, the other woman's eyes widened in surprise before their lips met once again. But this time tongues pushed forward, hungry for the other. Dancing as Maelice fell into her old sins once again. They felt comfortable, serene. Even still, she was the one to break the lock of lips, and listened to Rochelle's heavy breaths.

"Yes," she said simply, with no wish to explain herself. Chewing on her lower lip a moment, Rochelle nodded and sat herself properly again.

Maelice lifted her head, feeling the tingling remnants of the kiss upon her lips. She had to admit, she had missed the feel. She had ached for the touch of a woman. She had not had a lover since Safina, but right now she desperately wanted to have Rochelle. Despite all the contradictions, all the broken vows, she craved to feel the other woman's skin against her own.

"I did not think you'd return the kiss," Rochelle finally said, and Maelice smiled as fingers ran through her already short and choppy hair. Nails ran along her scalp, and Maelice allowed herself to enjoy the sensations.

"Neither did I," Maelice admitted, before letting out a soft groan as Rochelle's fingers pressed in. Slowly she began to rub into the flesh of Maelice's scalp, and the warrior felt her eyes closing again. There was no surge of memory this time.

"Well I'm glad you did," Rochelle said as those short locks fell over her fingers, while tingles ran down the back of Maelice's skull to her neck.

Maelice could only let out a small groan in reply, her head held upright only by Rochelle's skilled hands as she worked. Her full body slumped in the tub, the waters nearly up to her neck. Then Rochelle let go, and Maelice immediately craved the return of those hands.

The metallic snip of closing shears caught Maelice's attention. Her eyes opened and she braced herself for the rough cutting to come. But Rochelle's slid her hand gently up the nape of Maelice's neck and into her hair. Carefully she began to cut, and dirty blonde locks fell down the back of the tub.

The warrior felt herself relaxing again while Rochelle continued to cut at her hair. Time slipped into meaninglessness as Rochelle cut away until Maelice's hair was short once more. Rochelle swiped her fingers through the hair, clearing away the clippings.

"Come now, lets get you dried off," Rochelle said, and Maelice slowly nodded, though she was reluctant to stand.

She opened her eyes and looked down at the brackish water she had been sitting in. That she'd indulged in lust within. Was sloth to be a sin of hers as well? Maelice rose, water ran over her form, dripped from her as she stepped out from the tub. She felt Rochelle's eyes upon her, watching with hunger and glee, and Maelice could not deny the spark of vanity it swirled in her.

As water pooled upon the stone beneath her, Maelice stood naked before the other nun, unabashed of her nudity. This woman knew truths of her. In many ways it was a relief. But each moment Maelice accepted it, was another strip taken from the redemption she had striven for since Safina. Though, she began to wonder if she wanted that redemption, and in who's eyes would it be?

"Towel?" Maelice asked, and felt a forbidden thrill at the coy smile that curled Rochelle's lips. The woman moved slowly to the cupboard, retrieving a clean towel, and walked back to Maelice. She pressed the towel into Maelice's hands, then leaned inwards.

Maelice couldn't bring herself to stop her. She craved it, and opened her mouth just as lips found her own. Her tongue slid along Rochelle's own, as hands reached down and cupped her rear. Maelice pulled the woman close, and savoured the muffled moan that she swallowed. For her part Rochelle did what she could to dry the woman who claimed her lips, her tongue. She ran the towel over the warrior's back, as her body was pulled firmly against her. Water soaked into her habit, but she did not relent.

Not until Maelice broke the kiss, a string of saliva connecting them a moment. Rochelle stepped back, leaving Maelice to finish drying herself. Then there was a soft knock at the doorway. Maelice's heart leapt as she covered herself with the towel as she and Rochelle both looked to the open entrance.

There stood lay sister Runhild, a passive expression on her face and one of Maelice's black habits in her hand. She offered a curtsy, but said nothing of what she must have just witnessed, judging by the flush in her cheeks.

"Sister Elke said Sister Maelice would want clean clothes, while she finishes laundering the other set," Runhild said as she rose. Maelice narrowed her eyes at the woman and Runhild's flush deepened even as the rest of her face paled slightly.

"Thank you Sister Runhild. I suspect you know to keep what you saw to yourself," Rochelle said as she took the habit. Runhild quickly nodded before she dipped into a curtsy.

"Of course Sister," she said, and threw one nervous glance at Maelice before she turned and scampered away. Rochelle watched her go before she turned back to Maelice and held out the habit.

"You will find, that what you believe to be corruption, is far deeper than you believe in this abbey. Keep your mind open sister, for there is still salvation to find," Rochelle said.

While Maelice dressed herself, Rochelle pulled a key from her corded belt. It hung from a small piece of rope that she held out to Maelice. The warrior took it, without needing to ask which door it opened. She examined the plain piece of iron, before Rochelle's next words had her look up.