Order of the Sacred Sword Ch. 03

"Ballard," Elaina growled. "Do not give away our true purpose. What are you thinking?"

"We are in the temples, not the slums," he replied. "We have no enemies here, and there is no one to gossip."

He was correct in the second part, at least. The streets were clear, and whatever business took place here during the day had long since concluded. Elaina began another protest, but the wooden door beyond the gate swung open, and a figure in brown robes began to cross the garden at a rapid pace. His bare feet slapped across the stone, though no other detail about him was apparent. Only when he reached the gate did he lower his cowl, speaking through the metal bars.

"Late is the hour in which you call on us, Sir Ballard," he said. His pate was shaved bald and he looked young, though his youth might have been the illusion of too much time spent indoors. I could not see his eyes through the shading of his heavy brow. "Who are the others?"

"This is my squire Quentin," Ballard said. He gestured to Elaina next, then Meredith. "This is the Lady Elaina of the Order of the Sacred Sheath, my sister. And this is Meredith, of the Starlight Tower."

He evaluated us in turn with deep, calculating stares.

"I shall allow you entrance, but when the sun is down we must begin our ritual," he said. "Make haste. There is not much time."

We followed him through the gate, which locked behind us, and across the darkening path. Inside I found an antechamber similar to the one in the front of the temple of the Order, though it was lit brighter and contained two other robed figures, standing guard over another door with long wooden staffs.

"Your weapons, please," the monk said. "As I am sure you are aware, we allow no steel in the monastery."

With Ballard's approval we complied, unstrapping our sword belts, Elaina relinquishing her axe.

"And the daggers," said the monk. He held out his hand, expectant.

"As I am sure you are well aware, these blades are ceremonial and nature," Elaina protested. "And designed only for the purpose of destroying dark evil."

"As there is no dark evil within the walls of our brotherhood, you will have no need of them," was the reply. "You have my sacred vow that your daggers will be returned to you upon your departure, and no later."

Ballard nodded, and we gave the man our blades.

"If you accompany me into the next room, we can discuss your business," he said, looking at the two guards. "We will have more privacy there."

Unlike the deceptive front of the Order's temple that led to an ornate chamber, the main room of the small Dalgot church was similar to the first, though it did sport a slightly higher ceiling. The remaining light outside was the only illumination in the room, and it appeared to be fading fast. In the center of the far wall was a raised chair, similar to the one the head of our Order used when addressing the brothers. Two rows of pews filled the room, between the entrance and the throne; this must have been where the monks held their mass and rites.

"I will be brief," Sir Ballard said. "We have been sent here by the Orders to ascertain the truth of certain rumors about local disappearances. As Lady Elaina and I had heard it told, several bodies have turned up with savage claw marks, drained of life."

"You believe the demon is here?" the brother asked.

"A demon, perhaps," Sir Ballard said. "I understand that my our order and yours have not been in the habit of assisting each other, but any information you could give us to aid our search for truth would be much appreciated. May I have your name, brother?"

The monk smiled. The room darkened.

"It is as I suspected," he said.

"What?" Elaina asked. "Do you know of the disappearances? Can you tell us anything? Anything at all would be helpful."

"I do apologize, Sir Ballard. Sir Elaina," he said. "And to you especially, Quentin. So young, so handsome."

A hard impact swept me off my feet, and before I could roll away to get back up on my feet a great pressure seized my body, and quick hands bound my ankles and wrists. A gag was forced into my mouth, by who I did not know. I contorted my body, kicking my legs with great force, but whatever entity had captured me had already moved beyond my range of motion. For a moment I took in the look of the ceiling, blank, square stones, and thought they might fall on me, crushing me. They were moving, spinning, and I feared my skull was cracked and the back of my head was bleeding. I rolled, and saw that Meredith was still on her feet, wrestling to escape the clutches of four brothers who, until moments I go, I believed had not even been in the room. They grabbed her by both arms and dragged her into the other end of the room. I strained against the ropes that bound me, but only succeeded in rolling over, giving me a view of Elaina and Ballard. They were similarly struggling, and too far away for me to slide over to them for assistance.

The chair they put her in was ornately decorated with dark gems, the same chair I thought was for a much more benign ritual. It took four of them to hold her down once they had torn her robes off, and the power of her thin, naked body was useless against the strength of the four men restraining her. Others, perhaps the ones who had restrained the three of us, stood nearby, their faces and forms cloaked by the same heavy robes. They were merely shapes in the fading light, blending into one monstrous form. The monk who had greeted us, his hood still down, approached with a smoking golden chalice. I could only guess what liquid it contained. He chanted over it, and for a moment I thought it was pulsing with red light as he spoke, breathing dark magic into it. With one hand he gripped her nose, forcing her mouth open, and he upended the liquid. It bubbled over the rim of her mouth but she was forced to swallow most of it. The remainder dripped down her neck, trickling black snakes across her slight breasts. The priest withdrew the cup and stepped away.

"Release her," he shouted to the men. "Let her fly."
And with that, they let her go, and her body rose into the air, writhing and struggling against restraints no longer in place. She disappeared into a cloud of darkness, and I screamed through my gag, thinking she might never reemerge. The cloud swallowed the light around her, and I heard from her a scream that turned my blood to ice. Could she reemerge? Was she already dead? I reached for her with my mind, but my limbs were unresponsive, tightly tied behind me. After endless minutes the black dispersed like a heavy fog, revealing her pained form.

The witch was utterly transformed. The soft lines of her face had harshened: raised cheekbones, a rounded chin, strong and horribly beautiful. Her breasts had swelled, and as she twisted in the air I could see that her buttocks had gone from flat to globular, firm and round in contrast to her tight stomach. She might have grown taller, or her legs had thinned and the muscles grown more defined. Terrible shouts came from her mouth, and she clawed at her own skin, crazed and inconsolable.

I heard Elaina scream, though her shout was similarly muffled. The cold stones of the floor scraped against the bare skin of my arms as I inched forward, trying to get to her, and failing.

"It is done, just as the Book says it should be," the monk said, raising his arms into the air. "We have found a true specimen. The magic within her is strong, and now it is ours."

As he lowered his outstretched hands she fell to him, and more gently than I would have thought he took her body and laid it out on the ground. The moment she reached his cradling arms she fell silent and limp, unconscious as hopefully not, as I feared, dead. The other monks gasped at the sight of her, and as the head monk raised his eyes to us I could see that they glowed a horrible crimson.

This was the demon. This was one of them. Now not only my blood was ice, but my whole being, and I knew I was losing my very humanity in the aura of the horrible creature. Ballard and Elaina both cried out, but I could not bring myself to summon the energy, and whatever influence the demon exerted over me took my conscious, and I drifted into a deep and impenetrable sleep.

#

I awoke later in the dark of a dungeon cell, a single torch flickering beyond the squared grate of bars. There was nothing more than a bucket and a layer of straw on the floor, and a few small puddles of my own blood. My bonds were had been removed but the pain of them remained; my struggle had forced them deep into my skin, the ropes cutting and chaffing me red. I was naked, and even in the torchlight I could see dark bruises blossoming on my stomach and chest. I had been beaten, kicked; I feared my ankle was broken. I tried rolling onto my back, but my spine burned and the straw did little to soften the stone ground. However, the rocks were cold, and that brought my muscles some relief.

I called out, a grunt half painful and half inquisitive. I prayed that Ballard and Elaina were nearby, though I would not have been surprised to find that our captors had kept us isolated.

"Thank heaven," Elaina shouted. The hallway echoed, and I could not determine how far away she was being kept. Two cells down? Three? "Quentin, is that you?"

"Where are we?"

"I believe we are in the cells under the monastery," she replied. "Ballard is here, but he was badly hurt. I fear he might have fallen unconscious again. Are you all right?"

"I am alive, at least," I asked. I tried to sit up, but my arms did not have the strength to lift my body. "Where is Meredith? Is she with you?"

"I fear for her as well," Elaina said. She was realizing now that she no longer had to shout. "What they did to her was unspeakable."

"Did you see it?" I asked, terrified of her transformation. "What did they do?"

"I have only a theory," Elaina said. "If I am correct, it may be too late for her."

"Tell me now, Elaina," I said. I need some information, something to go on. There was no point in being coy now. "If there is information I should have, let me have it."

"I have heard of something similar to the potion they force fed her," Elaina said. "It does not transform the drinker into the demon, but it might as well. She will be their thrall, and I do not know how to break the spell."

"Which one is the demon?" I asked. "Who is in command here?"

"Likely the one who greeted us," she told me. "The incubi do not travel in large numbers. There will be one, and perhaps one or two of his cambion. Though it is possible one could exert his influence over an entire priesthood on his own."

"I will not kill her," I resolved, after a moment.

"I will not ask you to," Elaina replied. "And anyway, you would be no match for her powers. I do not know if I could even accomplish the deed without Sir Ballard."

"Where are out captors?" I asked. "How long have we been down here?"

"I have slept twice, but I do not know for how long," Elaina said. I heard her groan, the sound I assumed I would involuntarily make were I to attempt to stand. "I have not seen our captors, but one of them left food outside my cell earlier. I will not consume it. I cannot trust it."

"Silence," someone shouted. A door flung open somewhere, crashing against the wall.

"Release us immediately," Elaina shouted. "Bring Meredith to us. By the power of the Order of the Sacred Sheath, I command it."

"Your order holds no power here," the voice said. It was male and sinister, deep and utterly without character. "Though I will bring you the witch. She has asked after you, in a fashion."

The voice answered no more of our questions, but the noise returned some time later. I had not bothered to move, as the pain was still too great. Elaina had fallen silent a while ago, and I hoped that they had not accosted her in her cell, rendering her unconscious.

"Meredith?" I asked. "Meredith, is that you? Release us, please."

Soft footsteps moved down the corridor toward me, and with every ounce of strength I could muster I rolled onto my side, facing the cell door. Water was dripping somewhere, and I wondered if my thirst was conjuring the sound. I moved toward the door, dragging my useless legs across the ground. A form appeared, blocking the torch that hung outside my cell. It was slight, though with all the light obscured I could only see the outline of a woman, curvaceous and flawless, not at all Meredith.

"Can you not rise, Quentin?" the figure asked. The sorceress' voice had been transformed as well, from something banal and feminine to a tone full of smoke and sultry whispers: seductive, dangerous. I knew now I was dealing with the influence of the demon. "A shame, my boy. I would love to see you rise."

"Meredith, please help us," I pleaded. "Unlock the doors and help us leave this place."

"I cannot do that, Quentin," she said. I still could not see her face. It was as if a monolith was speaking to me, a featureless black statue brought to life by powerful magic. "You will remain in this monastery."

"Elaina," I shouted. "Ballard! Meredith is here. Wake up! Wake up!"

"Sir Ballard and Lady Elaina are sleeping, my silly Quentin," Meredith said. She took a step forward, enough to close the small distance between the entrance to my chamber and the far wall. The orange glow of the fire blossomed around her silhouette, and I could see that she was wearing a black robe, open in the middle, covering her nipples but displaying the round inside curve of the breasts, the toned line of her abdomen, and the hair of her sex. The striped of her skin glowed faintly, or so it seemed to my starved eyes.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked. "Please let us go. We will not harm you."

"My wondrous transformation has taken most of my former powers," Meredith snapped, an anger consuming her breathy voice. "But my wits are still about me. I am no simple idiot."

She squatted down to bring herself as level with my face as she could, but my head was still not far off the ground. With much struggle I brought myself up, and was able to sit cross-legged. Pain shot through my rear, but a wince was all the sign I gave of the discomfort. Her knees were kept together, and she rested her elbows on them, examining me like one might appraise a child, or a colorful insect. She planed her chin in the heels of her hands, and looked at me with sick glee. All I could do was look up at her, pleading with my face. If there was any sliver of affection for me in her before she was taken, surely she would recognize me as a friend and not a foe.

"You look hurt, my darling," she said. Her eyes gleamed, though the light was not hitting them. A smile crept across her porcelain features. "A shame. But you will recover. You must recover."

"What are you going to do with me?" I asked. "What are you going to do with Elaina? With Sir Ballard?"

"Ballard is strong, but useless to the prince," Meredith said. The prince; he must have been the one whose eyes glowed red, who made her drink the tonic. "He will be disposed of once he is strong enough to be questioned. Elaina will be questioned as well, though she may be given to the monks before the prince cuts her throat. They are so hungry for female flesh, you see."

"You cannot hurt them," I said. "You are Meredith, of the Starlight Tower. We are your friends."

"Have you heard of the Book, Quentin?" Meredith asked. I had heard of many books, though I judged the time was not right for sarcasm.

"It is a fascinating tome," she began. She leaned ever closer to me, her nose practically poking through the gap between bars. Again, she was whispering, her voice tight and high and full of mischief. "Missing for hundreds of years. But the prince saw it long ago. I'll not bore you with the details. Your small mind would not comprehend, in any case."

"Let me guess," I asked. "A prophecy? Instructions for opening a portal to the netherworld?"

"It is one, and the other, and more," Meredith said. "I am a small part of it, but important. I could not be if the Book was not real. My transformation was foretold in its pages."

"I promise, if you release us we will help undo whatever they have done to you," I said, entirely unsure of whether that was a vow I could make. But if the four of us escaped, and Meredith came willingly, I would not rest until I had recovered the gentle soul within her. "I know you, Meredith. Whatever they have done to you can be reversed. You do not have to live your life in this unnatural body."

"My body is transcendent," she shouted back at me, a dark wind blowing from her mouth, her eyes alight with the same red glow I had seen in the eyes of this prince she spoke of. She shrugged off her robe, and through she remained crouched I could see her, the roundness of her breasts protruding from either side of her torso, her rear rounded like an hourglass. I hated it, hated what she had become, and if not for the pain in my body the stirring inside me might have manifested. I hated her for provoking this unnatural arousal in me. Meredith, the real Meredith, with her delicate limbs and modest features, was a gorgeous creature. This beast was profane and prurient, the manifestation of bodily sin. As these thoughts ran though me, my eyes remained transfixed, desperate for a glimpse of her cunt. Meredith released a wicked cackle.

"I see you yearn for me," she said. "You are pathetic. All your blathering, and you cannot resist me. I will have to inform the prince. I'm sure it will amuse him, and he will be delighted at the power of his creation."

"My eyes betray my animal instincts," I replied, falling onto my back in exhaustion, but also to force my eyes to the ceiling. "But I will destroy this evil within you."

"Say the word, Quentin," she said, "and I will join you in your cell. I will take you inside me and free you from your pain. All you need to do is ask. The prince is a glorious creature, but part of me still awaits your touch. You see, I am the same Meredith, in many, many ways."

"A falsehood," I spat back at her. "I will not lie with you."

"Just a word, Quentin," she said. I looked over and saw that her knees had spread apart. She was balancing on the balls of her feet, running a finger up and down the lips of her dripping sex. I could see the glimmer of the wetness in the uneven light, and the urge to reach out and feel it was almost impossible to resist.

"You know we are trained to resist," I told her. "Even without the potion."

"A rare refusal," Meredith said, amusement in her voice. "I have tempted all the monks, and none of them begged off my affections. You are stronger, perhaps, than I thought."

"Please stop," I replied. "This is not you, Meredith. Whatever that demon is doing to you, you must resist."

"It is me," she said, making small circles on her clitoris with the tip of her finger. She let out a squeak, and closed her eyes. Biting her lower lip, she took several sharp breaths through her nose. Moments later, her mouth flew open and the only sound in the room was a sharp intake of breath. Her face flushed pink, and her skin shined now not with unnatural light, but with a thin sheen of perspiration. She had finished herself. "It is me, Quentin. It is me."

Another voice sounded from the darkness, perhaps the same one who had visited the dungeon hours before.

"Lady Meredith," he said. "The prince is waiting. You may bring the boy, or not. The guards are waiting."

"Well, my sweet," Meredith said, closing her thighs around her small hand and grinning. "Would you like to see what your darling Meredith has been up to?"

#

We had indeed been imprisoned under the monastery. Four guards in leather armor led me through the catacombs, winding tunnels lit only by a lantern the man who guided us carried. The cells were in a short hallway, all on one side, so the prisoners could not look across and see each other. Both Elaina and Ballard were sleeping, their faces buried in their arms. The other cells – there were five total – contained prisoners as well, though I did not recognize the two men. I presumed they were brothers who had decided not to follow the incubus that had taken over the facility, though I did not understand why the demon would not simply kill them to prevent revealing his plan to the larger world instead of confining them to the basement. When I reached out and yelled for them, either my companions or the unknown prisoners, anyone, to wake up, one of my escorts struck me in the side with a baton and I doubled over, nearly losing my footing completely. After that, I made no more effort to escape.