The Ring of Perliss Ch. 02: Beloved

"Thank you, Lady Ulaxr," I say, and march out proudly from the temple, displaying the silver sword to the amazement of the watchers.

*

A winding tunnel of crumbling, treacherous steps led down into the ominous depths of the world. A thousand steps I counted before weariness robbed me of the will to count further. Several times I would have fallen if not for Hanwe's sureness and quick reactions.

Hanwe had removed her patch as we descended, revealing an eye as black as the other was blue. There was nothing human about it. "It is the Unsleeping Eye of the North," she said. "Its gift and curse is to see enemies clearly, but without it I struggle sometimes with steps."

These steps had been made for trolls to walk, not for humans, and they were ancient indeed. Ahead of us marched the queen, carrying with seeming ease the unconscious body of her mate. The air was cold, the walls wet, and the shadows below impenetrable. Hanwe and I both carried torches, but the deeper we went, the weaker their light and heat.

At last, though, the susurrus of Tordunh's river echoed about us, and the tunnel opened out into a vast cavern. The river itself was wide and black, edged with sharp rocks, the surface rippling with the suggestion of some monstrous aquatic life. "De'els," Hanwe said, keeping well away from the edge. "Do not dare the river."

Beyond the river was a grand feasting hall, a crowd of people singing songs in apparent competition with one another, one voice lifting for an old but familiar refrain, only to give way to another.

"Orin!" a familiar voice cried out suddenly. "Is that you?" It was my uncle as he had been when young. Hearing my old name like that was a shock. "Bring that gorgeous body over here." His hand was stroking his exposed cock, much to the amusement of some others who encouraged him.

"Perliss?" a woman called. "Beloved daughter? A thousand years I have waited for you. Why must I endure such sorrow?"

Hanwe smacked me across the face, her other hand gripping my wrist with fierce strength. "Stay out of the river!" she shouted, and I looked down to see I was standing at the edge, water lapping at my boots.

I backed away hurriedly. "It's best not to look," she said more calmly. "Death will claim you soon enough. No need to run into its arms."

The Troll Queen laid Bdagr on the shore, and took the iron arrow from one of her troll guards that had followed us down.

"Sunflare, Majesty," Hanwe said, offering her bow to the queen.

"To bring this weapon into our domain would be justification enough for your execution," the Troll Queen grumbled, "but if this magic works we will forgive the insult."

"Thank you, Majesty," Hanwe said, but I could sense the laughter in her. Her confidence was such that I could believe she would be able to fight her way to freedom, should the need arise.

The queen nocked the iron arrow to Sunflare's bowstring, and pulled back. Even that simple action was enough to make the arrow's head glow with a fierce orange light.

"Aim across the river," I said. I had told her this already, but that was before seeing that seductive feasting hall. Every instinct screamed against the folly of firing a burning arrow at such a cheerful and unthreatening crowd. But to create a bridge between life and death, it had to be this way.

The Troll Queen released the arrow, and it shone with a terrifying brilliance, as if the sun itself had descended into the roots of the world. It arced across the river, only to slam into an invisible wall midstream, its light throwing the vast cavern into sharp relief.

The trolls cried out in pain and retreated up the steps. Only the queen herself stayed, Hanwe and I by her side, as she cried out: "Bdagr! My lord! Return to me!"

Waiting was agony. The queen sang of her love for Bdagr and her sorrow without him. She sang of the life conceived within her and a great imagined destiny.

The light began to dim as the iron arrow was slowly consumed by its own furnace heat, and the queen's cries gave way to sobbing futility, and I felt nothing, sensed nothing, nothing.

Until, at the very last instant as the arrow burst into a shower of dull, fading embers, Bdagr stirred, and I saw in him a strength of spirit that had not been there before.

"It worked," I said, and sighed with relief.

"Bdagr!" the queen cried, embracing him with arms strong enough to tear trees from the ground.

*

I dream I am Perliss, and frustrated beyond measure. I have spoken with the court historians and consulted their bestiaries, but have found nothing resembling the three-legged creature Ulaxr spoke of. I can be sure the creature's lair is far from Saruz.

I have spoken with the generals who marched with my mother, and I have spoken with traders in the marketplace about monsters in far-off lands. I have spoken even with the priests, who sometimes know such things, but they too were ignorant.

What I have learned is nothing new. "In Alba," said some. "There are many monsters in the north." Or: "In the Maze, no doubt," a few said, "for that is the source of all things monstrous." But I have read many books about the Maze's mischief, and none mentioned my monster.

"There's no one left to ask," I whine to my sister. "I have a quest from the gods, and the gift of Ulaxr's sword, but must I ride now to the four corners of the world?"

Laniss hugs me soothingly. "It is said that when Corliske despaired, he went to the three witches." Corliske was the first king of Saruz, and his exploits were greatly exaggerated. "Maybe you could find a witch to ask."

I stare at her in amazement, sudden hope blossoming. "Or maybe I could ask the three witches themselves." In all my reading and questioning, I have on several occasions read or heard some remark about a coven of witches in the mountains north of Saruz.

In a tavern overlooking the port, I track down a man whose diet of whisky has pickled him alive. He is aged and wrinkled and missing teeth entirely, but he is lucid enough for conversation. "Three there were," he says, his gaze resting shamelessly on my breasts. "Old hags dancing about a fire in black cloaks, screeching words in no language I ever heard. 'Vale baba gah! Vale baba gah!'"

He snorts with laughter, but the words send a shiver down my spine. Not the 'baba gah', which is just nonsense, but the name: Vale.

Valespawn is an ancient word for monsters. In the search for my quest's monster, I have glanced even through the Heresy of Zo. It is a strange text in a strange language, incomplete and poorly translated, but it tells of a time before the Six descended from the sky. It claims that this world and all the monsters in it were created by a goddess called Vale. "Never wish for Vale," is its final admonishment.

Perhaps it is a coincidence, but three old hags chanting the name Vale as they danced about a fire sounds like witchcraft to me. "Where?" I demand.

The old man shrugs. "Up in the mountains. We left them well alone. We were hunting trolls, not witches."

*

Time moves strangely in the depths of the world. We slept once before the descent to Tordunh while the arrow was forged, and slept again on return, exhausted from the endless climb. Bdagr and his mate, in contrast, Troll King reunited with Troll Queen, were full of energy and excitement, and the rhythmic pounding of their passionate mating echoed like thunder in the heart of the mountain.

Though the trolls had no food to our liking, there were sources of pure, fresh water, and we had between us sufficient supplies to keep hunger at bay. Four days and more had passed in the outside world, and it was evening when we emerged into the foothills north of the pass.

Of the wagons there was no sign, of course. The road itself was well to the east of us. "May as well camp here for the night," Hanwe said. "That hollow there in the cliff face will provide some shelter from wind and rain. There's no point in trying to start a fire, but if you're cold we can sleep together."

It was suggested in a very practical tone of voice, but of course it had me thinking of her body pressed against mine - and I was very curious about her body. "You're a daughter of Ulaxr," I said, half questioningly.

Hanwe laughed gently. "A distant ancestor of mine was, certainly. But if you want to see my cock, just ask."

I pulled away from her, alarmed. I had a sudden clear memory of Ulaxr's silver cock - except it wasn't my memory. It was a memory from a dream. Perliss's memory. To see it was to lust for it. "I have no wish to fall under its enchantment," I said.

"Alas," she said, "you are perfectly safe from that. Look!" She let her dark cloak fall about her feet and pushed her trousers down too. Despite my momentary panic at the gleam of silver thus revealed, I was far too curious not to look - but what I saw made no sense at all. "It is true I have Ulaxr's silver cock, and that my army adored me for it, but what you see is the cruellest of all magical creations."

But I wasn't listening. I was falling -

My vision gave way to a past seen only in mystical symbols. I heard the clash of swords and the yells of men. It was a throne room - the symbols were clear. Two figures were at the centre of the conflict. One was Hanwe, the Black Queen; the other a whore - or a warrior woman (the symbols were contradictory). Both figures were armed with weapons of astonishing magic.

- only to be caught in Hanwe's strong arms. "Lia!" she cried. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I said, gasping for breath, fighting for balance. "Nothing. I'm fine. I get flashes of the past." Gradually my head stopped spinning and I was able to focus again. "I saw you, as the Black Queen, fighting a woman clothed in divine armour and wielding a terrifying blade."

Hanwe chuckled as if that furious struggle had been a mere entertainment. "That was Zar," she said, "and the Dawn Blade is a fearsome weapon."

"Yes," I murmured, "that was its name. It reminded me of the three witches - not evil like them, but just as ancient and deadly."

We sat together with our backs against the rock, looking out across marshes and scrubland towards distant Benatek. The sun was sinking into the west, casting the land into deep shadow. "Zar fought well," she said, "but I had the greater experience. I disarmed her and pinned her to the floor. She had dared to challenge me and I wanted to punish her for it. I wanted her to feel the brutal magic of my divine cock."

She gave a snort of bitter amusement. "I was young and ambitious and the power of Ulaxr's cock had gone to my head. I had defied the gods in stealing it from her, and nothing would stand in my way. Nothing. Not even a moonsilver chastity belt!"

"Is that what that was?" I said. I hadn't been able to interpret what exactly was being locked up or how. The symbols had seemed to suggest that Zar was imprisoned inside her own armour.

"I thrust through that insulting garment with arrogant determination - only to have it bind to me instead. For fifteen years now it has denied me the intimate touch I crave. One day I was loved and feared; the next I was desperate and humiliated."

"Let me see it again," I said. I found it difficult to reconcile the Hanwe I knew with the Black Queen I had glimpsed in the past. This Hanwe was calm and beautiful, and had a warm humour; the other had been arrogant and ruthless. The delicate moonsilver garment did nothing to conceal the outline of her erect and magnificent cock, and I caressed it lovingly with my hand as I had done Fenizir's and Arden's, and also my own when I had had one. "Do you feel nothing when I do this?"

"It is a cruel tease," she whispered, and kissed me, her lips soft but demanding, tentative yet possessive. "Tell me you want me too."

"I want you," I whispered back. "I've wanted you since the moment I saw you. Well, maybe not the first moment."

"No more talking," she said, and kissed me again.

*

I dream I am Perliss, and high in the mountains north of Denkhar. It's early summer, and has been raining on and off for days. Tonight, the sky is clear, the moon and stars bright.

My horses are weary. I have ridden them hard and fast, not daring to stop anywhere for long. There were assassins on the road out of Saruz, and had I not left the road early and taken my chances instead on the winding forest trails, I doubt even my divine sword could have saved me.

They still follow me. More than once I have felt the whisper of an arrow, and now the mountains have forced them into the open. Three of them, on horseback, and since they know I can see them, they've built a fire for warmth, and to taunt me. Had I a bow such as Sunflare, I might be able to reach them across the ravine that separates us, but there's some reassurance at least in knowing exactly where they are.

I'm low on grain for the horses, but there is a stream here for them to drink from. I'm low on food for myself too, since I had intended to stay at an Inn before braving the mountains.

Snatches of song reach me from across the ravine as I try to sleep, but it is a different song that awakens me. The moon, half full, has traversed the sky and lingers now above the western sea. "Ai, ishfa Vale," comes the distant singing. "Ai, ishfa Vale. Ai, ishfa Vale."

Sword at the ready, I follow the voices carefully in the dark. Were it not for the moon, the ground would be impenetrable blackness beneath my uncertain feet.

I am greeted with an astonishing display. Three women, naked and withered with age, laughing and singing as they dance about a warm, bright fire. "Ai, ishfa Vale," they call.

Suspended above the flames is a black cauldron, its contents bubbling furiously and sending up a column of aromatic steam. "Greetings," I call out from a distance. They stop their dancing and singing at once, and huddle closely together as they study me. "I am Perliss of Saruz, an Adventuring Princess on a quest for Lady Ulaxr."

"Lady Silver Cock sent you to us?" one asked.

I have never heard such brutal disrespect for a god before. I half expect Ulaxr herself to appear and strike the witches dead for speaking thus. "She sent me to slay a monster no one has heard of. I hoped you could guide me."

"We do not give guidance," a second says. "We say only what we see."

"What was," says the third. "What is. What will be."

"Payment in silver," the first says. "That pretty sword, perhaps. It's said she uses her cunt for a sheath." All three witches snigger at this grotesque image as I squirm in horror.

"I have silver enough," I say, and throw a bag of coins at their feet.

"Not enough," they whisper. "Not nearly enough. But we will say what we see."

The three witches fall into a trance. "A battle," says the first. "Valiant Epraliss. None stand before her. How swift her sword! Such ferocity of spirit, yet love too. She is a queen, but she is a mother too. Two daughters at home. A husband fighting by her side... Garraliske. Ambitious. Impatient. Nursing a grievance. How easy it is for him to slip a blade between her shoulders."

"Father!" I hiss, fury boiling inside me. I've despised him for years, but it's still a shock to learn that he killed my mother.

"Garraliske," the second witch says. "A man who loves power and would sooner kill his own daughters than surrender the throne to them. Already he spins tales of promiscuous pleasure between Perliss and the Lady. 'She should have gone to Minarwe,' he says."

"Fiend," I hiss. My own father is poisoning my own people with treasonous words. I might survive the assassins only to discover a worse fate awaiting me in Saruz. What use is there in slaying this mythical three-legged monster if the throne is denied me after?

Beyond the witches, steam rises from the bubbling cauldron, its stubby iron feet and fat belly licked by flames. "An Adventuring Princess, victorious, her quest complete yet not complete. She pledges herself to Veshla, seeking an empire and bloody vengeance. In offering, she has... she has... No! Not that!"

The three witches scream in unison as Ulaxr's silver sword strikes the cauldron. The cauldron screams as a river of blood bursts out from within. Bones spill onto the earth, the broken skull of a human child.

"Foul hags!" I scream, my moonlit blade slicing effortlessly through flesh and bone until there are no more screams, there is only the foul stench of evil magic and the hissing of the fire.

The cauldron has split in two, the smaller piece having a single foot. "A fat-bellied creature with three black legs and foul breath," I mutter angrily. "Did you send me to kill these Vale worshippers, Lady?"

But if Ulaxr hears me, she does not answer.

*

"Who are you?" she asked. "When you're not wearing that ring."

It was night, and cloudless, a full moon low in the west. We'd combined blankets and curled up together for warmth, and I could not but be aware of the stirring of her silver-guarded cock, and the soft warmth of her breasts against my back. That it had now been days since I had been with Fenizir, and days too since I'd had the privacy to attend to my body's demands, did not help.

"Someone I'd rather forget," I said. As Lia, I was blessed with the body of Perliss, but cursed with that body's restless yearning. Cursed too with Perliss's memories and passions, filling my dreams and increasingly blurring into my waking self. As Lia I would always be blessed with good health, but also cursed with an agelessness that would set me apart from others. Being Lia was complicated and confusing, but the thought of becoming Orin again was too bleak to endure.

"Something we have in common," Hanwe said. "I betrayed and hurt so many people. My sister especially. I know that if I went home she would forgive me, but I'm not ready for that. I can't go home until I've earned both her forgiveness and the gods' too. And I really want to get this accursed chastity belt off."

I laughed, wanting that for my own selfish needs too. "There must be a key that will open it." My magical senses had told me that much at least.

"That's why I went to the Sisters. I travelled for years in search of anyone who might be able to help, until I came to the Sisters' eastern convent and learned how their Seer had sent Zar to defeat me. I pleaded with them to have mercy and release me..." Hanwe sighed heavily.

"They refused," I said.

"No. They gave me a bow that shot flaming arrows, told me to deliver a prophecy to the Troll Queen, and said to seek forgiveness in Benatek where my fate would be in Minarwe's hands."

Benatek was close. A day away. Two at most. "Why Minarwe?" I asked.

"Perhaps because this belt was made for her," Hanwe said. "Although why a goddess of courtesans should want a chastity belt, I can't begin to guess." She laughed. "I pray she'll be kind and set me free to ravish young maids such as yourself again."

"I can't wait," I murmured, pressing my bum back against her. Just the thought of Hanwe's cock was enough to keep me too aroused to sleep, and having her wrapped around me, warm and protective, her breath tickling my hair and neck, was a sweet torment.

"You don't have to." Hanwe guided her hardening cock between my thighs. I reached down to guide that huge, silver-coated length to my very wet cunt. "The belt denies me," she said, "but it doesn't prevent me from giving you pleasure."

The size of her very nearly prevented it, though. Hanwe's cock was as long as Fenizir's, but astonishingly thick. Hers was the third cock to penetrate me, but the first to truly answer that yearning to be filled. I felt so wonderfully stretched as she worked her divine cock ever deeper into me. There were powerful but contained magics wrapped about her cock, which added to the sublime thrill of being penetrated by this daughter of Ulaxr.

Hanwe laughed. "You be on top," she said. "Show me how much you love my cock."