The Duchess of Lust Ch. 02

Footsteps echoed down the hall, and she turned as Brunloc marched into the cell. The curly-haired sorcerer examined the prisoner with a raised brow. The duchess quickly filled the mage in on what Ketrik had revealed, including the mention of those strange pathways.

Surprise danced across Brunloc's face: a rare sight indeed.

"The Shadow Roads," he hissed. "You are telling me that you know the secrets of such paths?"

"No, not really," Ketrik said. "Past shamans and witches did, yes, but not me. I only know the legends, and snippets of rituals said to be capable of opening such paths."

"The Shadow Roads," Sarya repeated. "I have never heard of such a term."

"Nor am I surprised," Brunloc said. "Such knowledge is scarce, even among mages. It is said that another layer of reality exists all around us: a pathway of dreams, of ghosts, of demons. And certain rituals can tap into that reality, to draw power from it, or to travel. One can cross a continent in a matter of minutes. But such travel is dangerous and taxing."

"If it is a world of ghosts and demons, then yes, I can understand the dangers," Sarya said with a faint shiver. Such things seemed quite unbelievable, but she trusted Brunloc completely, especially after his advice and discretion had led to the reprieve for Fellhaven.

The sorcerer stroked his beard, his eyes narrowing, deep in thought.

"But there might be a way," he said. He nodded at Ketrik. "If you tell me all you know of these pathways, and if we combine it with what I know and what I can glean from the libraries..." He looked briefly to the duchess. "If you approve, of course."

"Do I approve of a daring plan that could bring allies swiftly to our aid?" She chuckled. "Yes, of course I approve."

She called out for Jacobi to enter and unlock the chains. Ketrik raised an eyebrow at that, but did not rise to fight or flee once the shackles fell away. Instead, the shaman rubbed at his bruised wrists, and Sarya reached out, her soft fingers brushing over the abrasions.

Sarya wasn't quite sure why she'd done that. Perhaps just to offer some comfort, or perhaps because a hungry part of her longed to feel the rough skin of a barbarian once again. Ketrik's eyes widened just a touch, but he did not shirk away.

"I am sorry about that," she said. "But I am sure you understand the need for such precautions."

Her fingers slowly fell away.

"Aye, I do."

"My lady," Brunloc said. "I'm sure the council is tearing itself apart with arguments about what to do with our guest. If you like, you can go and get them calmed down, while I confer with the shaman about the possibility of a joint effort to unlock these Shadow Roads."

"Of course, of course," she said, grumbling a bit. "Though I admit I'd much rather take part in some dark ritual than deal with their bickering."

Brunloc smirked.

"I suppose you could abdicate and take up witchcraft instead."

Her laughter echoed through the cell and out into the hall.

"Gods, I am half-tempted." She smiled at the sorcerer, then at the shaman, and turned and slipped back out into the hall.

***

After spending an hour with the council assuaging their fears about the prisoner and the possibility that he was a spy, she had finally retired to her quarters. The duchess stepped out of her fine slippers and had just started to undo the laces of her silky gown when someone knocked upon the door.

Sarya let out an exasperated sigh and called out for the visitor to enter.

It was Brunloc, carrying an armful of dusty old books. A strange, excited and almost boyish gleam glowed in his grey eyes.

"You look positively giddy," she observed. "I take it your collaboration was a success?"

"Oh, most certainly," he said quickly. "I could bore you with all the details..." He set the heavy books down upon a table, then poured them both a cup of wine. She accepted it gratefully and took a long sip; she certainly needed it after dealing with her squabbling advisers.

If those fools could direct their ire towards the Iron Blades instead of each other, perhaps the siege would have already been won.

"But in short, I think we may have found a way. The legends he spoke of held clues to certain components and facets of incomplete rituals that I was aware of. Sort of like putting together a puzzle." Still grinning, he flipped through the pages of one of the great books, which was written in a language that not even the well-educated duchess recognized.

"Can it work?" she asked, her voice trembling with eagerness at the prospect of allies, and a bit of fear at what these 'Shadow Roads' entailed.

"Maybe," Brunloc murmured. "I shall need to conduct a test to be sure, then we can send a messenger through."

Sarya frowned and bit her lower lip.

"No. Not a messenger. Me."

His grey eyes widened and he turned away from his book.

"My lady, that would be most unwise. The Shadow Roads are a dangerous place and-"

"The camp of the Iron Blades was a dangerous place, too," she said icily. "And these mercenaries and the duke of Ravenmark will not take kindly to just one lone messenger. A negotiation of such caliber requires a duchess, in the flesh. It will emphasize how serious and dire the situation is."

"And if something goes wrong?" Brunloc asked softly.

"Are you saying you doubt your skills?" She crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow.

"No," he said quickly. "But this is dangerous, untested magic. If you insist on-"

"I do not insist. I command, Brunloc."

"Very well, if you command me to open the pathway for you, at least let me test it first. With Ketrik's help, I should be able to open a small doorway within a few hours."

She smirked at how quickly he had given in.

"Can you trust him?"

"I trust no one, duchess," Brunloc said with a soft laugh. "But I do trust that he fears King Ulrik, and I trust that he disagrees with this war. It will be prudent to keep him under guard in the dungeons for a time, and if his knowledge pans out, then perhaps you might be able to trust him."

"Very well. Get to work." She paused for a moment. "But I should like to witness this test of the ritual."

"Such a ritual will probably not be as exciting as the one with the Iron Blades," he said with a ghost of a smirk. She blushed and shot him a glare, but the smirk persisted. "But of course. There should be no danger in you just observing the steps of the ritual."

***

Sarya had been ready to go straight to bed after all the arguing with her advisers and the excitement of Ketrik's arrival, but the prospect of witnessing sorcery had reinvigorated her. After donning her slippers and a warm fur cloak, she had gone down into the gardens to meet with Brunloc beneath the gleaming midnight moon.

The sorcerer arrived a few moments later, along with Jacobi and Ketrik. The shaman had apparently been given a chance to bathe: the dried blood and sweat was gone, and some of the bruising had faded.

His eyes swept over the beautifully-maintained hedges, trees and bushes of the gardens, as well as the ancient statues of past rulers and great heroes from Fellwall's history.

"So wild, and yet so...tamed," Ketrik said, his voice almost mournful. He brushed his fingers over a hedge. "You yank nature from the wild and force it to grow to your whims. Beautiful, and yet sad."

"So you prefer the untamed savagery of the wilds, I suppose," Sarya said.

"The wilderness has a tragedy all its own. A different sort, yes, but there is sorrow in the untamed forests and fields, too."

"Gods know I would love to ramble on with you about the conceptual sorrows of the wilderness," Brunloc said. "But we have work to do."

The sorcerer knelt and pulled a small bag from beneath his cloak, and spread a few items out on the ground: the skull of a bird, a few fingerbones, some reddish flowers, and a candle of dark grey wax.

"And the tuft of wolf's hair, too," Ketrik grunted.

"Yes, yes," Brunloc said quickly. He reached into his pack and pulled out the pieces of dark fur and scattered it next to the candle, then arrayed the other items into a circle.

"That's it?" Sarya asked. "This ancient, forgotten ritual just involves a few animal bones and an old candle?"

It seemed like something out of a ridiculous old fairy tale.

"The old candle was one that had to be specially prepared," Brunloc said. "With a precise ratio of ingredients. And the bones and fur will have to be ignited in just the right order, otherwise it won't work at all."

Sarya fell silent and simply watched. Brunloc struck a match and ignited the grey candle, and a dark red flame took shape. He used the burning candle to ignite the wolf fur, then dribbled the sizzling wax onto each of the bones, letting a few drops hit each item. Brunloc murmured to himself as he worked, continuing to move the candle and letting more drops fall.

"Still doesn't seem that scary or impressive," Sarya said drolly.

"I recommend silence, my lady," Ketrik said with a low rumble. "The air around the ritual must be still and settled and clear."

That did not make much sense, but Sarya complied, for the strange shaman certainly knew a great deal more about this nonsense than her.

Brunloc looked to Ketrik and nodded. The shaman stepped forward, and Brunloc reached out and handed the barbarian a small silvery knife. Sarya's eyes widened and she tensed; if Ketrik was indeed a spy or an assassin, Brunloc had just handed him a weapon. If Ketrik wished for Brunloc or even Sarya to die...

But her fears were quickly proven false, as the shaman slashed open the back of his hand with the knife. He dabbed his fingers in the blood, then flicked the blood onto the candle. The flame grew even taller and darker, and Brunloc quickly moved to let more drops fall onto the bones.

Her curiosity rose, but she heeded Ketrik's warning.

Brunloc set the candle down, then spread his arms wide. The sorcerer then began to chant in a low, raspy language that Sarya did not recognize. The hair stood up on the back of her neck, and her heart thudded in her chest. Dread and excitement rose in equal measure, both fearing and eagerly anticipating what was to come next.

She heard Jacobi murmur a prayer, and the young guard backed up a few steps.

Brunloc eyed the candle with an almost fearful look, then picked up one of the wax-covered bones and tossed it into the tall, dancing flame.

Bright blue light flashed through the garden, then faded. A shockwave of air tore through the hedges, scattering birds and insects, and nearly knocking Sarya off her feet. The bones had shattered and turned to a strange mist that rose into the air, mixing with the smoke left by the sizzling candle. Smoke and mist danced together, forming a large circle in the air, a few feet off the ground.

"It worked," Brunloc said, his voice brimming with glee. "Gods, I can't believe it."

"Are you sure?" Sarya asked, her heart pounding in her chest as she took a few steps closer to inspect the strange, flickering circle. "It's just...smoke and mist, floating there."

"No," Ketrik said with a shake of his head. He approached as well, stepping past the duchess. "This is a doorway. Closed, for the moment. Waiting to be opened."

The shaman moved around the floating circle, his eyes wide and wary.

"Magnificent," Brunloc hissed. "This power...I have never felt its like before."

"And now to test it," Ketrik said. "To ensure that we-"

The smoke suddenly shifted color, to a dull red. The shaman cocked his head and stepped closer.

He let out a roar of surprise as a pale, slender and feminine arm shot out from the smoke. The thin fingers grasped the shaman's wrist and tugged him towards the portal. Sarya was shocked to see the strong, sturdy barbarian yanked so easily towards the circle of smoke, as if his strength meant nothing.

Sarya shouted with alarm and darted forward, her own hand grasping his other wrist.

"No!" the shaman shouted. The duchess gritted her teeth and dug her feet into the grass, but to no avail. The strange, slender arm tugged again, yanking Ketrik and Sarya closer to the portal.

"Release him!" Brunloc shouted.

"Do as he says!" the shaman bellowed, trying to squirm out of Sarya's grasp "Let me go!"

She wasn't sure why she was clinging so tightly to the man: she barely knew him, after all.

And yet he had offered aid to her city, and that meant a great deal. She would not let him be dragged away by some strange spirit or demon without a fight.

"Jacobi!" Brunloc shouted as he sprinted towards the duchess. "Help me!"

Ketrik's arm disappeared through the smoke, and then his shoulder. The sorcerer and the young guardsman darted towards Sarya. She felt Jacobi's hands clasp her cloak, and Brunloc latched onto her shoulder. She struggled and snarled, both against the men and against the demon tugging the shaman further into the portal.

"Gods damn it, you fool duchess!" Ketrik spat as his shoulder vanished through the smoke. The mist and smoke seemed to dance, obscuring part of his chest and neck. "Let me-"

His words were cut off by a shout of surprise as another arm reached out of the smoke. Like the first, it was pale and slender, but with a bit more muscle. It latched onto her red curls and gave a fierce tug.

She wailed with shock and pain, and horror filled her as Jacobi and Brunloc lost their grips.

What was she thinking? Was she really about to die to some demon's wrath for the sake of a shaman she barely knew?

Ketrik and the duchess both screamed with fear and shock as the smoky, misty portal embraced them both. Darkness swallowed her, and the last thing she heard was Brunloc's shocked shouts, fading behind her.

***

Warmth splayed across her face as she returned to consciousness, and she groaned and opened her eyes. She was laying on a field of dark green grass, within a forest of tall, dead and ashen trees. Above her was a bright yellow sky, with a sun that was far brighter than she'd ever experienced. She winced and raised a hand to defend herself from its oppressive glow, then shakily rose to her feet.

"Fool," she murmured to herself as she looked around.

Gods, what was that place? Had the portal sent her somewhere halfway across the world? Or was this the realm of the Shadow Roads that Brunloc had spoken of? She'd expected a far gloomier and darker place...

"You're awake," Ketrik's voice grunted, and she nearly squealed with surprise. She whirled about to see the shaman leaning up against a tree, using a sharp sliver of rock to sharpen a long, sturdy tree-branch. Beneath him were a few more sharpened sticks.

"How long have I been out?" she asked.

"I don't know, because I don't know how long I was out, either. But I woke up about a quarter of an hour ago, and you would not awaken, no matter how hard I shook you."

He finished sharpening the stick, then handed it to her. While she was no trained warrior, she took it without hesitation.

"So you aren't going to admonish me for clinging to you?" she asked drolly, running her soft fingers over the wood to get a feel for the improvised weapon. Sarya doubted it would be of much use against a foul spirit or demon, though.

"No time for that," he said with a slight grin.

"So this..." She said, looking about. "This is the strange realm that you and Brunloc spoke of?"

"Aye."

"Not as...gloomy and scary as I expected."

"It changes. Quickly. Five minutes ago, when you were still asleep, everything was dark and covered in a dark blue mist. When I first woke up, strange red rain was falling, but it dried within moments. This place is the realm of spirits, gods and demons...and even stranger entities. It does not follow the rules of our world."

"And have you...seen any of these spirits or 'stranger entities' yet?" she asked, her voice quaking with fear. "Like the ones that dragged us here?"

"No. I have heard distant howls and laughter, but that is all."

His tattooed face scowled.

"And such sounds grew closer the last time I heard them."

"So what is our plan, then? How are we to get out of this place?"

"The legends say that sometimes doors and windows can open, if one is desperate enough. That reality itself here will bend to a strong will." Ketrik smirked at her. "I don't know you that well, my lady, but you certainly seem to fit."

"A strong will, aye, and a foolish one, sometimes," she grumbled to herself. Sarya looked about. "But we'll need other supplies. Food, water, something a bit more deadly than just sharpened sticks."

Ketrik nodded and gestured deeper into the strange dead forest, and she fell in beside him.

"Wasn't expecting a fancy duchess to get right to work. Didn't think a noblewoman would have survival instincts kick in quite so quickly."

"I may not be a skilled ranger or a hunter, and I may be a bit daft sometimes," she admitted. "But I did spend many days out on long hunts and rides in the wilderness with my father and uncles, in their attempt to toughen me up and show me the lands I'd one day rule. So I like to think I am not completely useless in this situation."

She stepped forward, then cursed as the lower hem of her gown caught on a branch. The fabric ripped, so she knelt and tore more of it away, baring her legs up to her knees.

"This gown, however, is completely useless in this situation," she grumbled.

"Not entirely useless. That fine silk will make for a good bandage, if it comes to it."

They marched on in silence through the dead, empty forest. Nothing moved: there was no sign of any animals, nor did any leaves fall from the strange dead trees.

Movement finally appeared in the skies above, as a dark blue mist began to materialize, starting to blot out the harsh glare of the sun.

"Like I said," Ketrik murmured. "This place changes quickly...like the mood of a madman." He nodded at her. "Stay close. The mists make it hard to see."

She swallowed, nodded and stepped closer as the blue mist descended. It embraced them, cold air nipping at her pale skin. Sarya shuddered and instinctively stepped closer to Ketrik, her hip bumping into his.

The mist obscured her vision, and she could barely see more than a few inches from her face. Even Ketrik seemed to vanish, and were it not for her hip against his, he'd have disappeared entirely.

"Ketrik?" she rasped, barely able to hear her own voice, as if the mist absorbed the sound.

She heard a muffled noise in response. The mists blurred, shifted and darkened, as if something was moving through it. Two glowing golden eyes appeared within the mists, but only for a moment. That moment was enough to make her shiver and squeal with fear, but the sound barely traveled.

She heard another muffled noise from Ketrik, then suddenly he was yanked away from her hip. Sarya cried out, her hand reaching feebly into the mists after him. She felt nothing.

Panting, she turned about, then called out for him again. Her cry was but a whisper, and there was no reply.

Then she felt it: a hand, just barely brushing against the small of her back. The brief touch sent icy shivers down her spine, and she whimpered with shock and turned about. There was nothing but the mist.

It had to have been Ketrik, surely...trying to find her in the strange, sound-absorbent mists. She stepped forward, her hand reaching into the fog.

It brushed against something soft and warm...something far warmer than Ketrik. She squeaked with fear and yanked her hand back.

Another touch hit her, on her left hip: a soft, gentle brush of unseen fingers. Again she shivered and again she whirled, both desperate and terrified to see the source of those touches.

But there was only the mist.

"Damn it," she said, her eyes frantically darting about. "Who are you? What do you want?"