The Saga of Tallia the Unwilling Ch. 09

Disclaimer: Everyone is over eighteen. If you are not deeply into fantasy pulp fiction, gender fluidity and pansexuality, you are in the wrong place.

BEHOLD! I, Thutmose-Neferkare, royal scribe, chief librarian and high priest of the divine Ra do bid thee welcome back for the ninth scroll in "The Saga of Tallia the Unwilling". In this chapter we are now firmly into what those cultists of the dark arts of "three act story structure" call "the third act". Yay and verily, does our story race towards it most epic and satisfying conclusion! But before we get to that, there is another important issue that I needs must address. This inquiry was made by an overly inquisitive sub-priest who alas had to be recently set on fire while still alive for pestering my exalted personage with too many questions. He asked, forsooth, is the magic portrayed in this tale real?

The simple answer is obviously 'no'. The sidhe are plainly not real. And of course magic invoked to the non-existent Lord and Lady of Love (a god without an animal head -- absurd!) is simple folly. Magic talking swords, three-eyed wizards and tiger-dragons -- all utter nonsense!

And yet, magic itself is obviously real. Crocodile-hippo-lions, fiery sky boats and gods with animal heads are totally real. To suppose otherwise is blasphemy and here at the Temple of Ra, we are against that. Like set-you-on-fire-to-purge-the-uncleanness-amongst-us against that. So now that that matter is settled, this does beg the question -- why does this most learned author get the existence of magic correct but the details all wrong? That I think is the real question.

Once the scholars of far antiquity struggled with this issue, but thankfully I personally have had a vision straight from the learned Thoth that has presently resolved this thorny issue. This author was in fact possessed by a demon -- in particular one that had the body of a bird and the head of a cat. Tis true! This demon did sit invisible upon his shoulder whispering into his ear all manner of falsehoods that led him into folly and error. I am certain also that this sort of demonic possessions persists even to this very day! Thanks be to the brillianty bird-brained Thoth for revealing this hidden truth unto my most exalted self.

Fortunately, we at the Temple of Ra have divined a solution. I have ordered a new line of protective scarabs graven out of a most fetching blue stone to be etched with anti-cat-bird spells and put out for sale at the temple giftshop. They are available, lo, for sale even now! Dearest disciples, I pray thee, listen not to the demon cat-bird of duplicity whispering craziness in thy ears. Get thee down to the Temple of Ra and be forever free of error and demonic influence! Do it today!

Yay, let it be written! Yay, let it be done!

Chapter Nine: Finding Her Secret Spot

Tallia awoke and once more it was dark. Was it morning or night? She had lost any sense of such matters. She only knew that she was no longer tired and could sleep no more. Liandra and Mela did not seem to agree with her on this point. The pair of the Amazon's lovers remained asleep and cuddled together beneath a cerulean silk blanket, naked and snoring softly and adorably.

There was no fire, so the only warmth she had was either from joining the pile or wrapping up further in sidhe silk. For now, she chose the clothing. They were camped on the second floor of this ruined old sidhe home and she peeked out of the window and spent several long minutes surveying the violet gloom that shrouded the grand wreck of Gaelynglas. The city was silent and still.

This was an impressive place, no doubt about that, and yet Tallia instinctually wanted to be gone as quickly as possible. The encounter with the Stone that Walks yesterday was not the only reason for this wariness. She was profoundly overcome by a sense that this was not her place. The people who had built this vast sprawl were not her people.

She then paused, taken aback by that thought. Who were her people then? What was her place? She, then a he, had been born in the city of Yaath'Xin, the son of a common whore. Tallus the Grim had fled that city years later in fear of his life. How many people back there even remembered him? And even if they remembered Tallus, what was the possibility they'd recognize Tallia as being the same person?

If that wasn't Tallia's home, what was? The Ricelands of Dao? Hardly. The people here had been fairly open with their disdain for a foreign monster hunter like her. Denggang? What little respect she had earned there, had been earned only by slaughter. Anyways, she had no desire to make that perfidious pirate port her permanent residence.

The truth was that she was homeless. Just as this colossal sprawling wreck of a city was not her home, so was it seemed that all the world was unwelcoming. Tallia the Unwelcome. The only time she had ever felt any sense of place, any notion of belonging was with...

She couldn't even think what came next. Not yet. The wound was still too raw. It had been only a day since Hilarius and her had parted ways. She understood his reasons. She did. He was probably even right. But she could not follow him. She had to see this through. She had to.

,

Liandra stirred and, as she moved, she awoke the still naked sidhe sorceress entangled with her. Liandra hugged her naked body close to the sidhe and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Tallia could tell that Mela, even though barely awake, was not entirely comfortable with this intimacy with the priestess. But she didn't exactly refuse it either. Perhaps such a genuine and uncomplicated display of love was just very new to her.

Tallia decided to rescue her sidhe lover. She scooped up Melaerryn with her mighty arms and extracted her from the silk bedroll and the affectionate priestess. The nude Mela cuddled into the Amazon's embrace and nestled within her arms. Being held such really emphasized how different in mass the pair truly were. The sidhe was slightly short, true, for some folk. Here in the Rice Lands, though, they might even call her tall. She was almost equal in height to Liandra, after all. But wherein Liandra was beautifully curvaceous, the sidhe was almost inhumanly slight, delicate and lithe. Now, held and hugged by the mighty Tallia, she looked almost like a doll.

"How are you this morning?" asked the warrior goddess to the tiny delicate sidhe sorceress.

"Stiff and a little bruised," she answered, "but also wonderful."

Tallia did inspect her bandage. The priestess' silken field dressing remained well done. But around it and where Mela had fallen on the stone, it was equally clear that she did not have a little bruise. Instead, she still had a quite large bruise across her almost entire left shoulder blade. The dark purple contusion would take days before it was gone and the stone needle's gash likely even longer. Tallia was no healer but even she could tell that.

"Any regrets?" asked Tallia, still cradling her and looking deep into her amber eyes.

"Oh, no! Last night was marvelous! Only..." her voice trailed off.

"Yes, my dear one? You can tell me anything," Tallia said.

"I hope that someday it can be just you and me," Mela whispered not wanting to hurt Liandra's feelings.

"Fret not," said Tallia in a low sultry growl, "you are mine now and soon enough I will take you once more."

The sidhe smiled at her powerful words and shivered with anticipation. Liandra, not really asleep, smiled to herself at the two newly minted lovers. 'Again,' though the priestess joyously, 'the Lord and Lady of Love triumphs.'

"Anyways, there will be plenty of time for that when we are at last somewhere safe, far away from the reach of demons or wizards," said the Amazon who then gave the sidhe a gentle kiss that made Mela only melt more into her arms. "Now, we have to get dressed and pack up. We've a boat to find if we are to cross that sunless sea and find your magic stick."

"Ah, yes, the magic stick," said Mela with a giggle. "You would greatly upset King Bressian by calling his prized Itheoir Draíochta a mere magic stick."

"Excellent! I love upsetting kings," said the Amazon with a laugh. "Now, I starve. Let's eat."

The trio ate a quick breakfast of the only food they had -- the same magical cheese given to them by King Bressian. It was quite delicious and filling but Tallia after now several meals of nothing but the stuff found herself craving anything else. Still, Tallia had been hungry enough in her many travels to not be too picky. They also finished off the water in their skins and so needed to find more. The Amazon hoped they could find a source nearby in the city.

Mela chuckled at that. "You overlook the obvious, my friend. We will have no shortage of fresh water."

"You know of a spring?" asked Tallia.

"We need no spring. The entire so-called sunless sea is actually a great underground lake. It is fresh water or so the stories of this city proclaim."

Tallia was unsure about drinking lake water. Common lore said it was better to drink water that was moving. Of course in Yaath'Xin they commonly daily drank water from the city's great cisterns, which were like man-made lakes. But then plague and death were also common in that devil-city. But if the sorceress said the water was safe, she had not been wrong yet.

Regardless, Tallia and her two companions soon dressed, broke camp and got underway. Their first goal was to find any sort of watercraft. Unfortunately, though there was plenty of evidence of docks and landings all along the shore, what their seemed to be none of were actually surviving sidhe vessels. They moved carefully amidst the fallen splendor of Gaelynglas, wary that the guardian they had defeated just yesterday might not be unique. But fortunately, they saw nothing but endless, lonely ruins. After hours of fruitless searching, they finally took a rest on the shore of the Sunless Sea.

"It's frustrating," said a tired Mela, "to be so close and yet thwarted by so simple a thing."

Liandra quickly agreed, "I sympathize. For years now, all I've wanted is to avenge my mother. And here we are, right underneath the murderer's home, and I still can't get to him."

Tallia contributed nothing to this grousing, simply taking a deep drink of the supposedly safe lake water and eating another portion of the strange sidhe food. For her part, the Amazon felt adrift. She was now utterly uncertain what the future held. Attacking the wizard still seemed like folly even though she felt obliged to help the priestess. Mela believed maybe a magic stick might help, but was neither sure how to use it nor even if it existed.

Once Tallia's life had seen so clear -- a straight arrow into the future. Steal bread and avoid the prince's guards. Survive your next match. Escape from the arena. Elude the bounty hunters of the mad prince. Make your fortune as a monster hunter. Remove the curse of the magic sword. Now... the sword had been stolen, she was far from any place she knew, Hilarius was gone and she kept company with an otherworldly sidhe sorceress and a mad priestess of a strange love god. Still, she was free and alive. Maybe there was hope after all.

Mela suddenly perked up. "I have an idea!"

"About?" asked Tallia.

"We've been looking on the coast for a boat," said Mela. "We should be looking in the water!"

"I think we would have seen a boat floating on..." said the Amazon.

"Not floating. Sunk!" proclaimed the sidhe.

"What use is a sunken boat?" said Tallia dubiously.

"There's plenty of bronze about. Yes, let's see if we can find one!" Mela said excitedly. Tallia noted that this exclamation did not answer her question, but at this point the Amazon had grown used to crazy ideas suggested by crazy people.

Sure enough, after a few minutes of walking down a long dock, they discovered a sidhe skiff sunken in about two man's height of water. The water was dark and murky, but still you could see the outline of the skiff which at least looked mostly intact. Tallia removed her clothing not wanting to get her new silks soaked and dived in. The water was brisk but refreshing. She was immediately reminded that she had not had a bath in several days. Yet she was also reminded of the sidhe's tales of monsters in the lake. So, she quickly swam down to the boat wreck and was pleased to find it largely in one piece. She pushed the hulk out of the water onto the nearby pebbled beach. Water poured out of a wide rip in the boat's hull.

"The hole is wide. Maybe we should seek another," said the Amazon.

"No, this will be perfect," said the sorceress.

Mela quickly got to work. The sidhe scavenged bronze fixtures from various portals and nearby homes and brought them to the draining skiff, making a small mound of metal. Liandra mostly just watched her two friends busily flit about uncertain exactly what they hoped to accomplish. A boat with a giant hole in it seemed fairly worthless to the priestess. However, as the bronze began to glow at the sorceress' touch and Mela covered the rip with a molten metal patch, the priestess began to understand. Where the hot metal touched the sodden wood it sizzled and popped with the magmatic heat of the liquid bronze.

Soon enough the boat's bottom was once more intact. The sidhe skiff's hull was crafted of ancient teak and this rot resistant wood had well-weathered its long years in the lake water. And where it hadn't, the sorceress patched it with molded bronze sculpted to be thin but resilient.

Tallia found a stone shed near the dock with a stuck door that she shoved open with but a moment's effort. Inside was bone dry rope and a few teak oars. There was a short mast on the skiff, but alas time had not been kind to any of the sail material they could locate. Anyways, the sunless sea was largely windless so they would have to row.

The skiff was not a large craft being at most as long as four men and half a man wide. Certainly it was much smaller than Monsu's river raider. Instead, the boat was long, narrow and elegant. The teak gunwales were graven with decorative knotwork and the wood once dry was a dark amber gloss. The prow was not pronounced but it did bear the design of some sort of bird -- perhaps a stylized eagle? The craft could very comfortably sit three or even four and still carry all their gear. Also it was narrow enough that Tallia could row two oars simultaneously, which meant that the others would not have to try and match her. The boat was agile, well-made and once repaired proved quite seaworthy. Certainly it would suffice for the brief journey the three companions hoped to make.

"Boats must have a name or we risk angering their spirits!" announced the priestess, as her companions affected repairs.

Tallia nodded. "Just so. What is shadow eagle in your tongue, Mela?"

Mela shrugged. "Scáth Iolair," she answered.

Liandra went over to the boat. She leaned in close and seemed to whisper to it. Tallia and Mela exchanged glances uncertain if the priestess was actually doing some sort of magic.

"This wood still remembers being alive," said Liandra. "It grew on the banks of an ancient river called the Nessa and loved the sun and water and the green feathered birds that nested in its branches. It was sad to be felled but glad for the care that the wood shaper took in its making. For years, it ferried Cadhla the Bowyer and her many lovers and children all across the lake. Those were fine days. But then there was fire and fury and the lake swallowed it. She is glad to be out of the water and to travel once more with us. It was asleep for so long! Awaken now, Scáth Iolair! Fly for us, Shadow Eagle!" The priestess paused for a moment as if listening to some unheard response. "The boat says hello."

"Hello," answered Mela with a little wave. She leaned over and whispered to Tallia, "I sense no magic. Is this actually doing something or is she just crazy?"

"I've learned to play along," whispered Tallia.

But more important than talking boats, what Tallia truly exulted in finding in the old boat house, was a hardwood stave almost two dozen hands long. She guessed that the residents of this city had used it to pole their craft away from the dock. But she knew immediately and exactly what she wanted to do with it. She had Mela transform the blade of her sword into a fine broad spear point and bind it to the stave. She then had metal enough left to make a heavy bronze spiked butt. After a few minutes of sorcerous work, she again had in her possession a war spear. Mela even engraved a runic T into the blade. Tallia loved it.

"You usually use spears in conjunction with a shield don't you?" asked the sidhe.

"Certainly," said the Amazon.

"Do you want one of those as well?"

The Amazon's eager eyes were all the answer the sorceress needed. So, Mela crafted for Tallia a round shield born of scavenged bronze. The best shields of course were made primarily of wood with a sheet of bronze over them. This was instead made entirely of metal, which made it heavier than usual. But with Tallia's Amazonian strength, she had no trouble lifting it and found it easy enough to wield. She then scavenged some leather and made two arm straps. Even as Mela was finishing the boat bottom, the Amazon put the finishing touches on a perfectly serviceable shield. Combined with the spear, this pair of armaments made Tallia much more upbeat and ready to face whatever the fates had in store for her.

It was midday when they loaded and launched the joyous Shadow Eagle, sailing out into the still waters of the sunless sea.

***

Arion sat on his throne and drained his golden goblet. When the slave girl was little slow in refilling it, he instead threw it at her. She barely dodged the chalice and fled terrified from his presence, weeping. He considering chasing after her and transforming her into something... creative, but instead remained brooding on this throne.

Arion Three-Eyes had been in a bad mood for days now. His machinations had been going so well. His hunters had brought him the finest tiger and land dragon he'd ever seen. He'd captured his would-be assassins almost effortlessly. And he'd shown the people of the Ricelands the terrible cost of defying him. He was invincible!

But now, mere days later, his magnificent tiger-dragon was dead. The assassins had escaped. And so far there was no word from Rontus or Burning-Horn about the invaders hopefully painful deaths. And honestly, he was also letting Tallia's rebuke get far too deep under his skin. 'Eventually one of your million enemies will kill you, old man.' Who dares speak to Arion Three-Eyes like that?

His problem in a nutshell -- he liked Tallia. No, 'liked' was the wrong word. He respected her. And Arion Three-Eyes respected no one. But her might, her bravery in the face of his power, and at the risk of sounding like a crude plebian, her big brass balls -- he had not lied when he said he wanted her as his partner. The fact that she had so savagely rejected him, so flatly repudiated him, it hurt. Now, he wanted to hurt someone back.

There was Diagoras of course. The wizard had already rather gleefully punished him. "Enjoying the claw, my servant?" the wizard chuckled. Still, punishing him yet again just seemed like kicking a puppy. And don't misunderstand -- no one loved puppy-kicking more than Arion Three-Eyes, but eventually you do need to move on.

So who else could he hurt? His monster-men? They were equally pathetic and truth told, he was running low on those at present. Diagoras hadn't been wrong. Tallia and her band had killed a multitude of those worthless louts. His so-called army now consisted of barely enough of the creatures to patrol the walls of his fortress.