Refuge

Sister Saito was charged with transmitting the decision of the Diet to the ecclesiastical authorities south of the mountains.

It was a great honour, but it was marred by the identity of the escort she was assigned. In Saito's view, she needed no one to accompany her at all, least of all one such as this. Saito had so many objections, but there was no time to make her superiors understand.

"She'll keep you safe," was all Saito was told before being urged in no uncertain terms to depart immediately. Dutiful by nature and by conscious decision, she was forced to resign herself to the presence of her unwanted companion, who went by the name Hinotama.

While they rode south on the old road, Saito was relieved to see that Hinotama at least had the decency to remain cloaked and hooded lest her appearance horrify and scandalise farmers and travellers who they might pass. They rode at speed, changing mounts at post stations, and despite the exertion this was a relief to Saito, as it meant that there was no occasion for conversation. Even bandying words with such an individual as Hinotama could be perilous, Saito knew. She herself kept her head down and her eyes fixed on the road ahead.

The first day passed uneventfully along the forest road. The second brought them along the border between plains and forest, and into the foothills. There were more people here: small settlements and farms, markets and fairs. It saddened Saito that she could not bring them the joyous news from the Diet, but she had her duty and it brooked no delay. They rested only briefly at post stations, and ate in the saddle.

Towards the end of the third day, they reached the city of Bas-Kita, the last city this side of the mountains. This would be their last chance to eat well and to secure supplies before the most challenging part of their journey. Thus they presented their credentials at a coaching inn, where the innkeeper fell over herself to offer them fine rooms and ushered them to a table where they would be plied with the best food and drink the house could offer. The inn was warm, lively and comfortable, and Saito permitted herself to enjoy such simplicities, knowing that it would be long indeed before they could indulge in such rest again.

That sense of calm was ruined, however, when Hinotama sat down opposite her and threw off her concealing hood.

For a moment Saito stared in shock, horrified at such a creature being in plain sight, of course, but also a little intrigued to study the details of her features: she had never been in such proximity to one before.

Perhaps a moment too many passed before she realised she should admonish her travelling companion. "Cover yourself! We are guests. Do not cause offence among this inn's clientele."

Hinotama smiled a dainty smile, but it displayed needle-like fang teeth. "This is a busy city and a cosmopolitan tavern. I am certainly far from the first of my kind they have seen."

Saito frowned. "You behaved so well on the road. Don't spoil my good impression of you now."

Hinotama cocked her head and, reaching up, rubbed the horns on her head as if in thought. Then she laughed. "You thought I was hiding my face? I was just wrapping up warm against the cold. We tieflings are very sensitive to it, you know."

"We do not admit that word," Saito told her sternly, raising a hand for emphasis.

But Hinotama seemed to pay her no attention, instead sighing as she uncovered her little vestigial wings and fluttered them. Next the creature would be unwinding its tail before the whole inn!

"I said--"

"I heard you." The same cute grin, but it now struck Saito as false. "What phrase would you prefer? Devil-girl? Daughter of the beast? Tainted? Succu--"

"Hush!" Saito looked around, but it seemed that no one had overheard.

The innkeeper arrived bringing a first generous platter of food and foaming mugs of ale. Saito couldn't deny that the woman appeared totally unaffected by the nature of her companion. Their host must be extraordinarily polite, Saito concluded, dismissing the possibility that Hinotama might be right.

With food and drink before her, the creature showed some of her true colours, abandoning her delicate pretences and digging in like the beastly thing she was. Saito partook frugally: watching such a hungry display was quite off-putting.

"Quite shameful," she found herself saying. "Quite shameful that one such as you should ever have been permitted to take the sacred vows of knighthood."

Hinotama swallowed and made a little belch. "Must I remind you that since the Council of--"

Saito raised a hand again. "Do not interpret doctrine for me, beast!" That last had slipped out, and she felt quite ashamed, hiding her reaction behind taking a long drink of ale. "That was most inappropriate of me," she said quietly at last. "We are to travel together, so we must be able to be civil with one another. I shall meet this trial."

Hinotama seemed unbothered by all of this. "I don't mind what you call me, Sister. It has been my experience that those who speak to us most harshly are also prove to be those who find us most... fascinating." She spread her hands. "I cannot be offended."

Saito took a bite of fish and vegetables. Inwardly, she seethed. Fascinating, indeed? Why, to call such a being as this, with her azure skin, bright lime eyes, gleaming obsidian hair and lips of amber fascinating? It was fascination indeed! As it had always been, it was a lure. A lure to entrap and doom the unwise to temptation and thence damnation. No matter what pronouncement the ecclesiastical authorities might make, she knew that this creature, this thing, was her worst enemy. The worst enemy of the godly. That Hinotama was permitted to masquerade as a godly knight herself stuck in Saito's craw even more than the necessity of travelling with her.

The rest of the meal passed in silence.

Later, when they ascended to their rooms, at her door Saito found Hinotama close at her shoulder.

"We each have our own room... knight. We should use them, so as not to offend our hosts in their generosity."

Hinotama feigned a bereft sigh. "I suppose we do. But do you not find the nights to be so cold when spent alone?"

Saito had not needed more evidence that nothing could change such creatures.

"No. And if I do, I shall request another blanket. Good night."

She stepped into her room and slammed the door shut behind her.

***

They were already deep into the pass when they realised that this year the snows were coming early.

Bringing her steed to a halt, Hinotama pointed at the grey clouds, incoming from the east. East winds always boded ill.

"No mistaking clouds like that. They'll reach us soon. This could be bad."

Saito couldn't argue with any of that. Except the pessimism. "This is the only pass that remains open all year round. Even if there's snow, the only way for us is onward. So we have been charged."

Hinotama nodded, though something about her expression suggested that she did not entirely agree.

As the two companions continued their ascent, the wind picked up and the temperature plummeted. When the snow began, it was no light fall but came in a driving storm. Before their eyes, the land around them was transformed: a thick white mantle settled over the world, the ground before them turned to a treacherous morass of ice and snow.

They dismounted from their riding dogs and led them. The animals were of the shaggy sort that preferred the mountain air, but they were still at risk of losing their footing. Saito wrapped her cloak close around her and raised her own hood: now they were two faceless figures in the wilderness, indistinguishable to the sight of any save the rulers on high. Or so Saito thought until she looked across at Hinotama and saw steam rising from her. The snow melted and evaporated when it came into contact with her: did her infernal heat burn even hotter in this chill?

It was a struggle just to keep going. The trail turned downhill for a while, and Saito hoped this might mean greater shelter. Yet the wind was cruel. It was if it dove down into the vale of the pass to seek them out and claw at them with shrieking icy fingers. Saito felt her body beginning to go numb to the cold, but her belief and her spirit still burned strong and drove her on. So she told herself, but she feared they too would be numb before long.

At Hinotama's signal they made a brief halt. Huddled close with their dogs on either side of them. The warm bulk of the great riding beasts comforted Saito. She could not say the same for the sight of Hinotama. Her healthy azure complexion had faded to a pale cyan and the light of her green eyes was dimmed.

They were too tired and the sound of the gale was too loud for them to converse, but Saito could imagine how it would go.

We can't go on much longer.

To turn back would be no easier.

If we stay put...

... we will freeze.

It was a grim calculation. How many lives had these mountains claimed in such a way down the years?

Then, Hinotama pointed. "There!"

Saito looked. And looked. Only a devil's eyes could have made it out at this distance. But there it was: a small hut, nestled into a hollow in the side of one of the flanking peaks. A refuge.

It would not be much, but right now it was as welcome a sight as a veritable palace. Saito was thankful for providence descended from on high. And, she supposed, for the work of the people of the mountains who built and maintained such structures. Surely now, they would survive.

Assuming, of course, that they could reach it. To progress towards the shelter they had to march directly into the face of the wind. On the ground the snow was growing deeper, providing surer footing, but every step was also a drain on energy. Saito kept her head down, repeating triumphant hymns in her mind. Like any godly pilgrim, through trials she would find her way.

When next she looked up, Saito saw that the refuge seemed close enough to touch. A simple but sturdy lodge, their warmth and, most especially, that of the beasts would soon warm it up. Most important was getting out of the wind. Saito had never looked forward more to rest and shelter. The prospect filled her with the strength she'd need for the last stretch.

However, a look behind told her that her companion was not faring so well. Hinotama was some tens of yards behind her, slumped to the ground, clinging on to her walking staff, her loyal mount screening her from the gale as it could.

That was when Saito realised the true test she was being put to on this day. She knew that Hinotama was not only a damned creature, but a source of damnation for others. And yet her duty remained clear. Charity did not discriminate. Saito turned and made her way back along the path she had trod, the wind at her back now.

Hinotama did not even look up when Saito reached her. Despite the vapour that still rose from her as the snow refused to settle on the infernal creature, Saito found Hinotama's skin to be as cold as ice. At the touch, Hinotama looked up, but her eyes had gone dark and she wore no expression at all.

Still, she responded when Saito hooked an arm around her and helped her back to her feet. Leaning heavily on her companion and her staff, Hinotama managed to limp in the direction of the lodge. Saito began to encourage her with words of divine reassurance, but stopped herself. Such words were surely wasted on this creature even in her pitiful current condition.

Flanked by the shielding bulks of their loyal dogs, the two made their way with agonising slowness towards the structure that promised shelter. Saito gritted chattering teeth.

Once they crossed the threshold, Hinotama collapsed again. Saito felt exhausted enough to do the same, but she had much work to do: they were no longer directly exposed to the wind and snow, but it was no warmer in here. She had to get a fire going, secure the refuge's doors and shutters, stable the dogs. If Hinotama was not in a fit state to help, Saito had to do it alone.

***

In the adjoining room, the dogs could be heard barking softly at one another. Such gentle animals, Saito thought to herself. Truly they had been put in the world by divine favour.

She could not think the same about the creature lying in the hut's sole bed. Despite the blazing fire Saito had got going in the hearth and the layers of blankets she was covered with, Hinotama still showed no signs of recovery or consciousness.

The mountain lodge had been intelligently situated, and its construction though simple was sturdy and effective. With doors bolted and windows shuttered, it did an excellent job of keeping the heat from the fire in and the deadly chill out.

Looking at the condition of her travelling companion, Saito chewed the inside of her cheek, feeling terribly ambivalent about the matter. The world would only benefit from there being one fewer tainted in it. In a different age it would have been deemed a godly act to strike one down, never mind fail to save one from the vicissitudes of cruel climate. Yet, they were companions of the road nonetheless, and their duty to one another could not be denied.

At least, Saito noticed, Hinotama's colour had began to return to its healthy azure hue. She watched the devil-girl's breathing, seeing her forked tongue flicker out between her amber lips. Saito couldn't help thinking that she had never seen a finer nose. Those exquisite cheek-bones...

Saito cursed and turned away. Why did the divine permit these awful creatures such damnable cuteness? The afterworld must indeed be the land of repose promised, for this one contained nought but trials.

She set herself to making an inventory of the shelter's contents, stored in the basement reached through a trapdoor. They were quite impressive. There was even a small store of dried fruit, along with loaves of hardened bread, salt, dried meat, water barrels, porridge and more besides. Of course, they must take no more than they needed: it was still early in the season, and other brave or foolhardy winter travellers might have need of this waystation.

Then Saito found the stash of bottles of upland whisky. Cradling one in her hands, she mused for a moment. Yes, in the case of an infernal creature this was well worth a try. She returned to the bedside.

The moment the first drop of liquor touched her lips, Hinotama's eyes popped open and she surged back to life. Saito found the bottle snatched from her hand. Hinotama threw back her head and drank deeply of the rough liquor.

"Show moderation!" Saito warned her, watching wide-eyed. "You will make yourself ill."

But Hinotama merely shook her head while she chugged down several slugs. Saito was surprised she didn't drain the whole bottle.

"Ah! That's the water of life, all right!" Hinotama had sat up, a cheery smile on her face as she looked around at her new surroundings. "We made it!"

She began to take another drink as if in celebration, but Saito was insistent in taking the bottle back. "Medicinal use only," she said sternly.

Hinotama made a sulky face. (Quite intolerably cute, Saito thought.) But she didn't try to reclaim the bottle. "Okaaay," she sighed. "I suppose I do owe you my life." That thought seemed to trigger something in her mind. Her eyes their usual bright lime once again, she gave Saito a considering examination, looking her up and down. "You know, my kind has certain traditions when it comes to repaying our debts."

Saito stood and stepped back from the bed. She wagged a finger. "None of that! And to think I was beginning to feel sorry for you." She shook her head. "Quite incorrigible."

Hinotama was open-mouthed in dismay. "Oh, Sister, no! What do you think of me? I meant that, as a knight, I am bound by the ancient rules of honour. I must offer my sword to your service now."

"Sword? You are not even carrying a sword."

Hinotama grinned, one fang showing. "It's a metaphorical sword. It means I am at your service until I have a chance to save your life in turn."

"Well, you shall have to hope that our journey continues to be perilous. Once we reach our destination we shall part ways. Mistake me not, I will not have it otherwise."

That glum face again. However she steeled herself, Saito found that it tugged at her heartstrings.

"Do you really mean that?" Hinotama asked woefully. "I know you distrust tieflings, but I'd hoped that this journey might influence your view a little... That we'd become closer."

"I have already been quite as close to you as I care to," Saito replied very quickly.

Hinotama seemed to sag. "Well, if you won't let me have any more whisky, I must rest. I've never been so exhausted."

Saito nodded. "And I." She went over to her pack and retrieved her bedroll, looking around for a good spot to unroll it on the floor.

"Sister," Hinotama gasped, "you can't sleep on the floor! I won't have it!"

Saito glanced back at her. "A floor is quite sufficient for me, I thank you."

Hinotama was insistent. "But you've given me all the blankets! What if you catch a chill lying on the floor? If you were to succumb like that after being so brave in helping me... I could never forgive myself." Her words did give Saito pause. Hinotama gestured around herself. "There's only one bed, but it's plenty roomy, isn't it?"

Saito began to shake her head. "I shan't--"

Hinotama pouted. "You wouldn't doubt my honour, would you, Sister? We will lie back to back. I'll even keep my tail under strict control! But my saviour mustn't suffer discomfort on my account."

After a long pause, Saito discarded the bedroll. "One should never refer to a mortal being as a 'saviour'. Your grasp of doctrine should be better." As if walking to an awful fate, she made her way back to the bed. "But some of your words do have merit."

A smile -- a happy smile, Saito told herself, not a predatory grin -- crossed Hinotama's face before she rolled over and turned her back where she lay on the bed, as she'd promised.

It was not warm enough to undress, even were she inclined to. Saito climbed into bed and drew her share of the blankets around her. From Hinotama, she could already hear the steady, regular breathing that indicated sleep. Looking away, if she didn't think about it, Saito could even find the close presence of another warm body pleasant and comforting, as she tried hard not to dwell on the fact that she now found herself sharing a bed with a daughter of the beast.

***

Saito awoke. She was alone in the bed.

It was dark and the wind still howled outside.

She heard the clack of hooves on the wooden floor of the hut. Saito's hackles rose. Suddenly, this situation felt so different. She was alone in this remote and forbidding place with a creature of a kind that she had been taught to fear for as long as she could remember.

She could hear her drinking. A soft chuckle. Saito mouthed a silent prayer to herself. Despite herself, she couldn't help hoping that she was wrong. That -- as some naive people said now -- whatever their heritage tieflings were people too, capable of kindness, goodness and godliness. If Saito set aside her manners, her jokes and the intense cuteness (which after all she could hardly help), hadn't Hinotama been a dependable companion on the road?

Those hooved steps drew closer, returning to the bed.

"Sssaitooo! Are you awake, lovely Saito?"

Saito spoke up. "I told you that the whisky was only to be medicinal. Now you're drunk."

Hinotama giggled. "Oh, but my kind don't get drunk, sweet Saito." Standing beside the bed now, to Saito's eyes she was only a set of outlines in the darkness. But that was enough for her to recognise that the devil-girl was now completely naked. "We just get... excited."

Eyes fixed open, Saito followed the movement of Hinotama's hand as it descended -- to toy with the large member that hung between her legs. Saito took in a sharp breath as she saw that it was indeed growing excited.