The Avenger of Anitalia

In the middle of the night, the Queen summoned the chambermaid and asked that she fetch the healer for the King was very ill. The healer came and examined the king, but could find no ailment other than an aching belly. He prescribed honey mixed with wine. The queen was able to get the king to swallow a small amount, but with no improvement. By morning, he was dead.

Sador summoned the Captain of the Palace Guard that very morning and demanded the document King Rodan had given him. Since Udor was dead, and also because Sador had held a dagger to his throat until he did so, the Captain complied. After reading the document to ensure it was the correct one, Sador burned it in the fire in the palace dining room.

Rumors circulated amongst the servants that Sador had poisoned the King and had likely killed Udor as well. Their suspicions increased when the Queen succumbed to the same ache in the belly a week later. Sador heard of these rumors through the Captain of the Palace Guard. His instructions to the Captain were clear and simple. He was to kill every servant in the palace. Should he resist doing so, Sador would remove him from command and order the Captain be drawn and quartered on the palace courtyard.

From that day forward, no more rumors circulated about King Sador, and none of the Guards dared to oppose his orders. At first, a few who could not stomach the barbarity of the servant's murders left the Palace Guard for other lands, but Sador sent men to find then, kill them, and bring their heads back to the barracks of the Palace Guard. There they were displayed on pikes imbedded in the ground. The desertions ended.

Sador then set about expanding his kingdom. He formed a special company of the Palace Guard from men who, as the traders explained, were as rogue wolves who kill for sport rather than just to eat. Indeed, said the traders, the emblem of the company was the head skin of a wolf attached to their leather helmets.

That company was sent to the adjoining lands to conquer territory and claim it for Enzach. To Sador, conquering territory meant the land was wiped of all evidence of prior habitation. They were to leave no person or animal alive nor any structure standing. How they accomplished these tasks was left to their own choosing. Because of the type of men Sador chose to fill the ranks of the Wolf Company, the methods used were always horrific.

The soldiers who sacked Broghly had left the city in the same state as Morana had found Nitara. If not the same group, they were part of the Wolf Company of the Palace Guards the traders had described, for their leather helmets did have the wolf's head skin. Morana's intent was to make them pay a dear price for such barbarity though she did not yet know how.

She reasoned there would be more of them razing villages on the edges of Enzach, and since it lay to the north, so did her path. She followed no road, for she wished to pick the time and place for her vengeance. Instead, she walked the forests and fields where she would not be seen.

As Morana walked, she practiced with the bow, and in a week was able to bring down rabbits with half her shots. She welcomed this food source as she had eaten nearly all the oats she'd threshed at Broghly. The ground here was rocky, too rocky to plow, so there were no villages and no fields or gardens from which she might find food.

It was in such a rocky place she encountered the first group of the Palace Guards. There were three preparing their encampment for the night. Morana crept unseen into a thick stand of bushes and lay down to listen and watch.

The Guardsmen prepared an evening meal over their fire, and placed their blankets around the fire once they had eaten. One produced a goatskin bag, took a long swallow from the wooden spout, and then belched and said "would that I had me a willing wench to poke tonight. That would complete a fine afternoon of battle, a good meal, and this good wine."

The man in the center of the group laughed.

"Namid, the only wench willing to bed you would have teats like a doe goat and a hole wide enough to accept your foot."

Namid chuckled.

"That could be true, but a wench like that would be better than pounding away with my fist as you two do every morning."

He passed the goatskin to the middle man who drank a long draught and then passed it on. The goatskin made the rounds of the three as they talked until they yawned and lay down on the blankets they had placed near the fire.

Morana had become more and more enraged as she listened to their conversation. They had just raided and burned the house of a hunter of furs. They bragged about how easily he was killed and how it was unfortunate they had to kill his wife before taking their pleasures with her.

That they would die tonight, Morana was certain. She just did not know how to do such a thing. As she lay in the bushes watching, she saw each man remove his leather shirt and lay it beside him. All he wore then was his trousers and a simple linen undershirt. If her bow could send an arrow through the hide of a rabbit, surely it could do the same to a linen shirt.

She waited until the men were asleep and then crept closer. The fire still flamed and those flames lit the sleeping men. Morana knocked an arrow, prayed to Dumene to steady her hands, and aimed it at the chest of the man nearest her.

The men had drunk enough wine the twang of the bowstring did not waken them, nor did the cry of the man she had aimed at. Because of the shallow angle, the arrow entered just under the man's ribs and pierced his heart. He doubled over to clutch his chest and died as Morana was knocking the second arrow. Though she aimed at the same place on the second man, her arrow flew high and struck him in the throat. He gasped, then gurgled and after a few moments, lay still again. Morana knocked a third arrow and took aim.

The third man stirred at the gurgling next to him and then sat up. Morana's shot was wide and plunged into the ground at the man's side. He looked at the arrow, then at his two companions, then jumped up and started to run. Morana's fourth arrow struck him in the back and he fell to the ground. She pulled the dagger from her belt and ran to where he had fallen. As she had seen the men of her village do when they slaughtered a goat, she made one quick cut with the dagger at the side of his neck. After a few moments, he stopped moving.

Thinking there might be more of the Palace Guard in the area, Morana went back to her stand of bushes. She watched the camp until the sky turned the gray of very early morning. No other guardsmen had come to the camp, so she walked to where the men had piled their belongings.

She took the men's clothing to make more for herself, and found the sacks of dried meat and grain they carried. She also collected their quivers of arrows and their bows as well as the daggers and the belts that carried them. After trying on the leather helmets and finding one that fit, she ripped the wolf's head skin from the top and threw it in the fire. She then untied the horses the men had ridden and set them free with a slap on the rump. Morana had no use for a horse. She knew a horse would neigh if another approached and give away her position. She picked up her trophies and had taken only a few steps when she remembered she had not made the sign of Dumene. After marking the men and then taking up her new possessions, Morana continued to walk north.

It was after midday when she came across the next camping site. It was deserted, but that it had been used recently was evidenced by the fresh ashes of the fire. She continued walking and found several other camps. There could be only one reason for so many camping sites in the area. The Wolf Company would have stopped at these sites on their way to and from Corly. Morana began to climb from the foothills into the mountains to find a place to watch the area unseen.

A short way into the foothills she discovered a passage through the rock. She would have missed the entrance had she not been looking carefully for firm footing, for the ground was a loose collection of weather-rounded rocks that tended to shift when she stepped. The way looked easier around a large boulder so she took that path. Behind the boulder she found the opening in the rock.

The passage was narrow, so narrow it would barely be passable by a horse and only then if the rider dismounted. When she looked up, Morana could see the reason for the passage. It had once been the gap between two huge rock slabs. Over time, the base upon which the slabs sat had eroded and the two had fallen inward creating a sloping roof. At the very top, Morana could see sunlight where the slabs had not completely closed together.

At first she thought the passage might lead to a cave. A cave would have been welcome for she did not like sleeping in the open. It would be too easy for someone to surprise her when she slept. She had walked a few steps when the corridor turned to her right. She followed it and a few steps later walked out into a small valley inside the mountains.

From the far side of the valley, a small stream flowed from the rock wall, meandered across the level valley floor, and then plunged over a rock face and thence into a small pool. At the end of the pool, the stream narrowed again and then poured through another opening in the rock. Near that small waterfall was an outcropping in the rock that formed a sort of roof over the area below. The rest of the valley was tall grass with a small forest of trees at one end.

Morana sat down on the fine sand floor under the overhang to think. If she was not already inside the lands of Enzach, she soon would be. With so many campsites in the area, it would be difficult to elude any of the Palace Guard who passed through unless she had a secure hiding place. If she remained here, she could climb the peaks during the day and watch for small groups coming from or returning to Corly.

If she saw any, she could walk from the valley to their camping site as night drew near, wreak her vengeance, and then return. The rocky path would make tracking her movements difficult at best, so she could sleep without worry of discovery. That night, she spread a blanket under the overhang and slept until the rays of the morning sun warmed her face.

As the days passed, Morana found and killed several men in the dress she'd come to recognize as the uniform of the Wolf Company of the Palace Guards. As always, she took from them what she could use and left them where they had fallen after marking them with the sign of Dumene. She knew they were found, for she had observed this happen on several occasions from her hidden watching place half-way up the mountain.

Many groups of the Wolf Company traveled through the area on their way to and from Corly. If it had been only a day since she had taken her vengeance on one of the smaller groups, Guardsmen who intended to use that particular campsite were greeted by the open eyes of the fallen. Morana was very careful to not leave any sign of her presence other than the bodies with the sign of Dumene and missing clothing and equipment. To the Guardsmen, it was as if their fellow soldiers had been slain by a spirit that left no sign in coming or going.

If more than two days had passed, the scavengers of the forest would have cleared away the remains, and the guardsmen would find only a fire, a cooking pot, and perhaps some equipment Morana did not want.

They would often scour the area for some sign of the attacker, but were always unsuccessful. A few did begin to search the foothills, but finding the rocks held no sign, quickly returned. They would then speed away as fast as their horses could gallop. She was curious as to their speed of leaving until she waited in hiding beside the camp of two guardsmen one night.

They had finished eating and were sitting beside the fire talking. The shorter of the two asked why they were spending the night in such a cursed place. The taller of the two laughed.

"You, my friend, have been listening too much to the stories of cowards and old women. I do not believe there is such a thing as a spirit who kills and then leaves the sign of a Goddess on the victims. I have never seen this with my own eyes, and will not believe until I do so."

"But I heard from another man he has seen it. The men were either killed by our own arrows or were cut to ribbons. He said parts of them were missing as well, and that the spirit must have eaten them."

The taller man chuckled.

"Yes, I have heard the tales. I do not believe them either. A spirit would not need to feed, and a man would not eat another man's manhood nor his sack. It must have been animals. That is just the wild imagination of the teller of such tales. Go to sleep. We will reach Corly tomorrow. You will be in more danger of losing that twig you call a cock to one of the whores there than you are here."

That night, the two joined the other members of their evil company in the land of the Gods. Morana prayed Dumene would see her sign on their foreheads and deal with them as would be appropriate.

Over the months, several other small groups went to sleep near Morana's hidden valley only to wake in the land of the Gods. Morana felt no more for these men than if they had been the rabbits she killed with her arrows. They were not truly men, she reasoned, for a man would not kill another unless threatened and he would never kill women and children. They were worse than the wolves that had furnished their headpieces.

Her sleeping area was stacked with daggers, bows, and quivers of arrows from the fallen guardsmen. Rolled into tight bundles were their leather trousers and tunics. During the day, Morana fashioned more garments for herself for it was usual that she was soiled by the gore of those she sent to Dumene and she refused to wear clothing that reeked of such filth.

Morana was also sometimes soiled, and before finding the hidden valley had cleaned herself as best she could with leaves and the occasional bath in a convenient stream. Once she had taken up residence in the hidden valley, she bathed daily in the pool near the overhang.

It was both a pleasure and a shock to wade into the small pool the first time, for the water was very cool. Morana had walked to the middle of the pool where the water came up to her slender waist and then dropped to her knees to immerse her head. After staying so for as long as she could hold her breath, she burst from the water and threw back her head to clear her hair from her face. Her long, auburn tresses threw a cascade of droplets in an arc as they swept through the air to land on her bare back

.

She had no soap with which to wash so she used her hands to scrub her skin. That first time she noticed an odd thing had happened. While her nipples had at times become somewhat larger and firmer, after her immersion in the pool, they became longer and very taut. Her touch send a tingle to her belly that she'd not felt before. Another such touch resulted in another tingle in her belly and also an odd sensation between her thighs.

Morana waded to shallower water then to continue bathing. When she touched the soft lips and crinkled hair between her thighs again, she caught her breath at the sensation that shot to her core. The sensation was very pleasant, so she continued to stroke the soft petals between her thighs. One finger slipped between those petals and Morana gasped at the feeling that raced to her flat belly. She continued to stroke that fingertip through the slippery wetness and closed her eyes. The sensations were so intense as to be nearly overpowering, and became more so when she found her entrance and pushed the finger gently in.

As the feeling of tension began to cause her knees to shake, Morana's other hand went to her breast and stroked the rigid nipple. She gasped, then stroked the swollen nub again.

Before she realized what was happening, Morana thrust her hips out with a jerk and felt the tightening in her body increase to the point she began to shake. Then, she felt a wonderful feeling sweep her body from head to toe as the tension was suddenly released. She cried out as another wave of feelings caused her knees to buckle. A third shook her as she fell to her knees in the water.

A few moments later, Morana left the pool to let the warmth of the sun dry her body. She thought of her cry when the tension was released. It was the same cry she'd heard her mother make on the nights she'd heard the creaking of the bed on which her mother and father slept. Could it be from the same cause? If that were so, perhaps her mother was not in pain as she'd thought. Perhaps her mother was experiencing the same release of tension. Morana smiled. Were that so, being penetrated by a man's organ might be a very wonderful thing, a thing she would enjoy greatly.

As her body dried in the sunshine, Morana combed her long auburn hair with her fingers to dry it as well. She wished for a proper comb, but had not found one in any of the effects of the men who fell to her arrows or had their hearts or throats slashed by her dagger. Such was no surprise to her, for all the men had long greasy hair that always looked as if it was never washed or combed.

She thought again of the pleasures she'd discovered in the pool. In the coming days, she would enjoy those pleasures each time she bathed, and each time she though of how it might feel with a man giving her those pleasures. She might enjoy a man now that she knew of what pleasures he might stir in her body, but not any of these men. Their heavy beards and greasy hair turned her stomach at the thought of being touched by any of them.

After two afternoons of watching from her hiding place up the mountainside, Morana saw a lone Guardsman stop at one of the campsites. He tied his black horse to a tree and then made a fire. Morana watched as he cooked his evening meal, ate, and then spread his blankets on the ground. As the sun dipped low over the trees, she quietly made her way back to her hidden valley, slung on a quiver of arrows and a bow, and then made her way back to the entrance.

She could see his large body lying under the blanket and aimed for the place where his chest would be. She let the arrow fly and was pleased when it pierced the blanket, made a thunk sound as it was stopped by the man's body, and then vibrated slightly. The man would be dead soon. Morana waited and watched for some sign of movement, but after seeing none, pulled her dagger and approached.

When she was a step away from the man, she stopped her silent approach and watched again for any movement that might indicate he still breathed. There was none, so Morana sheathed her dagger, took another step, then grasped the blanket and threw it back.

She was aghast at seeing not a man but only a large leather bag and two logs. She turned to run, but was stopped by a strong arm around her waist and a hand clamped over her mouth. The man's voice was a chuckle.

"I thought to capture the spirit of Dumene. Instead I have caught only a man."

As Morana struggled against the suffocating grip around her middle, the man chuckled again.

"Ah, but what sort of man is this with such a slender waist and such soft hips."

Morana felt the hand leave her mouth and feel downward. The man chuckled again.

"No man would have such large teats. I think I have captured Dumene herself. Let me have a look at you, Goddess."

Morana spat out the words.

"I am not Dumene."

"I would see this killer of the Palace Guard to know for myself."

He placed one hand on her shoulder and then turned Morana around as he released the grip on her waist. Her eyes glowed with hatred in the firelight and the man laughed.

"You are but a young girl."