The Enchantress of Ingley Ch. 12

She was so focused on the crash of footsteps hounding her trail that she hardly watched where she was going. Her lungs burned, her limbs ached, and she was near blind in the darkness. Marissa heard another movement from just ahead, and something large loomed from the darkness, just as a crooked root caught her foot. She fell forward, slamming into the ground hard.

Marissa didn't want to look up. She heard the first of her pursuers approach, only to stop suddenly, as if held a few paces back by some unseen force.

"Mistress!" The shadowy nymph, for that was what she surely must be, called out to her. "Are you alri-" Her words were cut off by an all too familiar voice.

"Well, well, does a witch's little toy dare show herself before me?" Isolde's words were cold and cruel.

Marissa peeked through her hands, only to vaguely make out the heavy hooves of a horse before her. So that was the beast which had so startled her. But it was no horse she recognized. It appeared to be a proper knight's charger, perhaps from one of the King's Men in the village. Yet as she turned her eyes up along its stately, looming form, the black-clad figure astride it was none other than her father's lover.

Her eyes shone even in that dim light, and her stare was like ice. But Marissa could not have been more pleased to see her.

The bandit women burst upon the scene at that very moment, and quite literally skidded to a wary halt. Zara and Cordelia both adopted defensive stances simultaneously, as their eyes fixed upon the woman rider.

Thankfully, the shadowy nymph faded back into the forest, taking advantage of Isolde's distraction to retreat.

"Get up, you useless little tramp."

With a great deal of effort, Marissa hauled herself to her feet. She felt as if she were going to pass out. One hand rose to brace herself against the dark furred charger Isolde rode. The beast tolerated her touch, and provided a support as solid as any wall.

The bandit women remained silent still, though the red headed one glared daggers at Isolde. Still, they were much more guarded than her father's name should have merited. Marissa watched them out of the corner of her eye, wondering what could keep the two warrior women at bay so readily.

"Consorting with bandits and witch's servants, Marissa? I am so disappointed in you. It's a good thing for you that I had business out here anyway, and that the chaos out here was so loud." Isolde then turned her cold gaze to Zara. "And you, where is the other girl? I told you to catch both of them."

The tall blonde was about to speak, when Cordelia cut her off. "Go to hell," the lean little redhead snarled at Isolde with the same venom she'd shown Marissa herself.

Isolde laughed chillingly, then focused her hawkish gaze on Zara, as if she could bore a hole through the blonde with her stare alone. "Tell me."

A chill ran down Marissa's spine at her tone. There was something unwholesome about it.

"We let her go," Zara answered, before Cordelia could stop her.

The dagger wielding lieutenant shifted between Zara and Isolde. She positively spat venom, "She's gone now, so take your little witch and get gone, Enchantress."

Marissa was confused. Witch? Enchantress? Which was she supposed to be?

Isolde's response was startling. She tensed and gripped the reigns of her steed tight, until her knuckles grew pale. "Witch? What are you talking about, little pup?" Her cold gaze drifted down to Marissa. "What is she talking about, girl?"

Marissa felt every cell of her body protest as she lifted her gaze to Isolde's. She swayed unsteadily, and would have fallen if not for the sturdy flank of the horse beside her. "I... I don't know," she answered truthfully, "Perhaps it has something to do with the powers?" She didn't know what to term them. Had she found them? Unlocked them? Was it mere chance that she had discovered she had them?

"Powers?" Isolde's voice was a glacier. "What... powers? Show me."

Marissa's brow furrowed, and Cordelia began to push Zara back toward the safety of the trees. "Show you? I cannot. I don't know how-"

"Show. Me."

This time, that terrible gaze was turned upon her. Marissa felt a wrenching in her head, as if someone were pulling a string, trying to focus her upon Isolde's request. She'd felt that sensation before, though never quite as strong as that. In the past, even the slightest push was enough to get her to comply.

At that point, however, even though the urge to do as she was told was stronger than ever, she felt she could deny it. The same vitality that surged within her earlier seemed to bolster her will.

"No." Marissa spoke the word firmly. She wasn't even sure why she was denying the demand. She could feel it again, the power at her fingertips. After that gaze had fixed upon her, she was certain she could call forth those forces of nature once more. She just didn't want to.

If she couldn't stand up to her father's lover when she had the power of magic at her command, then when could she?

Isolde snarled, and the sharp report of the back of her hand across Marissa's cheek echoed through the woods. The younger noblewoman's head snapped to one side from the blow. It was her wounded cheek, and that warm blood once more began to run in hot rivulets down her skin.

"You shall not deny me, Marissa Ingley. Show me!"

Isolde's will bore palpably down on Marissa, and the surge of her own powers welled up from within. Marissa felt like a frog being slowly squashed between two massive forces. She could resist, but it was painful to do so. Her untrained magic didn't know how to cope with her situation.

Zara and Cordelia finally broke and ran. Their retreating backs were only in view for a moment, but that was all Marissa needed. With an agonized cry, she lifted both hands in the general direction of the bandit women.

With a sharp clap of thunder and smell of ozone, bolts of electricity connected her outstretched palms to various trees along the path of her gesture. At least a few connected with the two bandits, and both women fell spasming to the ground.

Isolde was silent for a long while, and Marissa leaned heavily against the side of her steed. Her head spun, the strength began to flee her body. Just as she began to slump to her feet, Isolde's hand snapped out and grabbed under her arm.

The laughter was faint, at first, but as Isolde dragged Marissa up to slump over the saddle before her, her laughter intensified. It was not an easy laugh, but an unhinged cackle. Her long nails raked Marissa's back as she clawed and dragged the younger woman up, until she lay there, limp but balanced.

"You're not mine... you were never mine. You were hers. All these years, and you weren't even mine?! Oh... this is rich though. So rich. I'll be able to do so much with you."

Marissa was confused. Exhausted, her vision began to go black. The last she saw as her consciousness began to fade was the whirl of trees as Isolde turned her steed back into the forest, and the smoking, still figures of the bandit queen and her lieutenant, lying amidst smouldering trees and underbrush.

For all their spite and crudeness, they were quite pretty, crumpled there together in defeat.