Salveran Tides Ch. 04

He slid out of her slowly, leaving cum to leak out of her sex and patter on the floor beneath them. "You were right," he said in a low voice. "I did need that."

"Lexaeus-"

"I'll get dressed and head topside," he said, in a sharp tone that said not to push things. He was the only one who could speak to her as such. Scarlet heard his webbing pad against the wood as he left, leaving her alone in the dark, bent over the barrel.

Well, she'd been left in far more humiliating positions. Scarlet let herself feel good for a little while longer, then stripped down and washed herself with the water bucket. Feeling suitably clean, she dressed and wound her way back through the darkness to the steps to the deck.

As the sun set, Lady Liblac Corrin stared out the open sea from the end of Port Corrin's longest jetty. Her hands were curled up into fists so tight her immaculate nails cut welts into the bottoms of her palms. Blood ran in rivulets between her curled fingers, dripping her esteemed blood onto the wood beneath her.

The entire town still smelled like piss and seawater. Almost a dozen men of the Royal Navy were dead, including her experienced harbormaster. But the worst part of it all was that the damned Anthra had gotten away from her. For half a decade he'd escaped her wrath, and then when she had him, he managed to get away.

Nashor had assured her he would take care of Scarlet Rydell. That she could take as long as she wanted in executing the beast-man because his pirate mistress would be dealt with. Yet the eyewitness testimonies had confirmed that it had indeed been the Dread Pirate that had saved her associate and made off with him, along with a well-built Navy sloop that had already put considerable distance between itself and the port.

But she'd gotten Lexaeus once. She could get him again. And not repeat her mistakes.

"You are bleeding, my Lady," Confessor Julian said.

Liblac relaxed, wincing at the feeling of her nails coming free of the flesh of her palms. "Nothing but scratches," she said. "Are you ready?"

"Five vessels with forty crew apiece," Julian said. He was an older man, his hair beginning to go gray and contrast with his red Confessor robes. "We will embark within the hour."

"Good." Liblac closed her eyes and thought of her son. Denwin, dear sweet Denwin, who had grown into such a capable man when his father had passed. Cut down in the prime of his life by the savages in the north. She would have given anything to another hour with him, to ruffle his hair and smell his skin and-

"Rest assured, My Lady," Julian continued. "They will not escape. Rydell burned down the cathedral in Garretsburg a few days ago. The Church's losses at her hands continue to mount, and I have been given...special permissions for this task by the Church Elders."

That got Liblac's attention, making her forget her irritation with the man for being jolted out of her memories. "Such as?"

Julian inclined his head behind them. Liblac did a half-turn to see what he was talking about.

Half a dozen men in full armor were in the process of dragging a hulking figure towards one of the waiting boats. It looked like a woman...to an extent. The gargantuan figure had a full mane of unkempt hair, hanging around her brutish face like creeper vines. She wore nothing save for bits of sackcloth that covered her breasts and groin. Heavy, ape-like hands with fingers like iron cell bars hung low by her side.

Liblac's eyes widened. "Since when did you have a Nemesis, Confessor?"

Julian said nothing, merely watched his soldiers try to corral the beast-woman onto the boat. They had wrapped up the living weapon's body with heavy chains, two men holding the leads and dragging the Nemesis forward while three others used whips to urge her on.

But when one of them hit the Nemesis in a place she didn't like, the gargantuan woman roared and thrashed like an angry ape. The motion was enough to drag one of the men in the lead - who was wearing full, heavy plate armor - right off his feet. Her twisting motions made him whip around into the men chasing her, knocking them all into the water. Cries of alarm went up as the crowd realized that the Nemesis was coming loose.

"Excuse me," Julian said, stepping away from Liblac and drawing his rapier.

The Nemesis turned towards land and bellowed, the sound echoing through the town in a horrifying reminder of the Church's might. She began to pace and snarl, as if debating charging back towards land. Julian whisled, catching her attention. When the Nemesis rounded on him, he stabbed her in the meat of the shoulder with his rapier. Liblac blinked. Wouldn't that just piss it off more?

As it turned out, the answer was no. There must've been some sweet spot in the berserker's shoulder, because the Nemesis made a pitiful noise and dropped to her knees as Julian dug the rapier point in deeper.

"That's a good girl," he said in a soft voice. "You wouldn't hurt the faithful, would you?"

"No....Confessor..." The Nemesis's voice had almost no trace of femininity left, only a sound like rocks clacking against one another.

"That's right," Julian cooed, yanking his blade free. "We do not hurt the faithful, my dear."

"No...hurt...faithful..."

"That's right. We are but the servants of the Flame, and we punish the wicked, don't we?"

"Punish..."

Julian inclined his head, and the Nemesis's handlers gathered around her again. They led the massive woman up the gangplank onto one of the waiting vessels without any further incident.

"Do not worry, Lady Corrin," Julian said. "When we find them - and we most assuredly will find them - my Nemesis will ensure that there is nothing left of them."