The Song of Roland Ch. 25

It tickled. They made eye contact. Almyra's fingers hovered for an instant longer on her cheek than they should have. Kelsea suppressed a nervous blush, but Almyra saw it anyway. Her eyes lidded.

"May the Spider's gaze watch over you, Kelsea." The priestess said, smiling at her.

Kelsea dipped her head low, unable to look her in the eyes. "And you as well, m'lady."

Almyra's teeth glinted with dangerous invitation in the orange glow of the fire. "The ritual is complete, I bid you welcome: you are safe here, you are amongst family now."

A cheer rose up from the cultists. With the induction ritual now finished, dozens flocked to Kelsea's side. Men and women, young children and wizened elders, all approached her with gentle smiles and words of encouragement. It was more people than Kelsea had ever spoken to at one time in her life, and their attentions were focused exclusively on her. It was all a bit overwhelming.

And all the while, a dark voice in her head whispered its own kind of congratulations to her.

After the excitement of Kelsea's induction had passed, the congregation took their places at the pews, watching with rapt attention as Almyra gave her sermon from behind the blazing brazier. The bed of coals that surrounded the edges of the walls gave off a terrific heat, casting deep shadows around the sweltering interior.

Kelsea, leery of her near-celebrity status, chose a quiet spot near the middle rows. She kept her hands folded in her lap, trying to ignore the horny thoughts that filled her mind as she watched Almyra speak. It was difficult to pay attention: there were so many people around her, and her wandering eye found an abundance of pleasing forms to focus on. She only half heard the priestess' words.

At the conclusion of her sermon, the congregation stood as one, joining the chorus as all raised their hands to the flaming brazier and called out for Gosvin's blessing and forgiveness. Kelsea pantomimed the action, though in her heart it was a hollow gesture. Forgiveness had long since been denied to her. That at least, she was at peace with.

With the evening sermon finished, the crowd dispersed, filing out of the pews and pressing together in a tight line as they spilled out into the inner cloister.

Most made for the great bonfire in the central courtyard, clutching at their heavy robes as they shielded their faces from the wind. Kelsea pulled away from the gabbing throngs before the laymen could try to converse with her.

Almyra had offered to give her a private ceremony of confession at the conclusion of the sermon, but Kelsea had begged off. She had no illusions as to its true purpose. The idea of the two of them alone, sharing secrets back and forth was a dalliance more gratuitous than godly. Even a creature like Kelsea knew what the look in Almyra's eyes meant. It both excited and terrified her.

On any other day, she might have gone looking for Roland, but their morning encounter had left her shaken. Their shared dream still rolled about like a loose marble back and forth in her head. The memory of Callie, and of his first brush with Demonhood left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Kelsea sighed, her robes billowing around her as she ascended the stairs of the inner wall. She wanted to be alone with her thoughts for a time, even if the incessant urges followed after her wherever she went. At least there she would not have to inflict herself on others.

The sun was dying in the sky when she reached the crest of the stairs. She'd chosen a particularly deserted branch of the wall, far from any snooping sentries. Since the Helstriders had arrived, patrols had been few and far between. The exhausted guardsmen were in desperate need of a break, to rest and see their families.

Looking out across the long, lonely stretch of hills rising to the tall mountain in the distance, Kelsea smiled. She took strange comfort in its rigid contours.

A city girl, she had always marveled at the sight of nature and its fierce beauty. Arjal was a strange place: nestled high upon the cliffs, it was often fog-cloaked just beyond the shimmering walls. On rare days, when the weather broke, she might catch glimpses of this faraway mountain range, and the tall, statuesque peak that she now gazed upon in all its glory.

Such thoughts of 'rigidity' soon led her mind to... other matters. Kelsea let out a sigh. No matter what she did, no matter how hard she tried, the thoughts were always lurking. Hungry. Waiting. It only further darkened her mood.

"Kelsea?" Came a raspy voice behind her. She turned to look at the stairwell from whence she'd come. A grinning warrior in leather armor leaned in casual unconcern against the wall. It was Beatrice, Roland's old friend.

...Roland's old flame. The thought turned her stomach.

"Oh!" Kelsea said, adopting a cheery tone to mask her annoyance at the unwelcome intruder to her solemn reverie. "Hello again, Beatrice. What brings you up here?"

Triss smirked, adjusting her sword belt. "Didn't ya hear? The Harpy's been spotted a league or two north of us."

"What?" Kelsea's blood ran cold. She wrenched her gaze to the sky, staring out in desperation for some sight of a blue speck upon the grey horizon. She could see nothing but the fading rays of light peeking through the mists.

Triss pushed herself up off her perch and sauntered towards the sullen Demon. Her armor creaked as she walked. "Aye. Sentries on the outer wall saw her circling at a distance to the north." Her heavy footsteps grew close. "They reckon she's out hunting fer her lost meal."

The chill of night was setting in; a light snowfall had begun to descend upon the palisade, coating Triss' short, mousy hair in a thin layer of frost. "She's been buzzing the village perimeter fer over an hour now." She said with a shiver. "I came up to have a looksee."

Kelsea felt a flutter of panic rise up in her chest. Her eyes furiously scanned the horizon for some sign of her adopted pet. "Gods, is she... does it really mean to-?"

Triss let out a light chuckle. Kelsea glared at her out of the corner of her eye. She felt a vague, selfish desire to strike this uncouth woman across the cheek, to wipe that cocky, knowing smile from her face.

Triss did not notice her companion's scowl. "No need to worry yerself, lass. Helstriders have handled far worse. If it sticks around too long, we'll send ol' Hobber out with his bow to clip its wings. Yer friend is safe."

Kelsea swallowed heavily. "That... would be a great load off my mind. The monster has caused us all enough misery already."

"Aye, so it has." Triss crossed the final distance, sidling up next to her as she planted her thick arms upon the smooth stone wall of the battlements. The two exchanged a brief eye contact; Beatrice smiled and dipped her head in deference.

"My Lady." She murmured.

Kelsea's brow raised in confusion. "Um... I know we've only just met, Beatrice-"

"Just Triss, if it's all the same to you."

Calm yourself. The human still inside of Kelsea warned her. The Demon forced a hollow smile. "Yes, 'Triss...' I know we have only just met, but you are my father's friend. There's no need to be so formal around me."

Triss grinned, there was a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "Isn't there? Just givin' my due deference. After all: rumor 'round the cloister is ya married into nobility."

Kelsea returned a blank stare. The weather-worn mercenary let out a booming chuckle as she looked beyond the wall, towards the wide, forested plateau that sprawled out before them. "Ah, no need to be so coy, lass. Roland told me all about the two o' you."

A chill breeze rustled the frost-tipped tree line. Kelsea kept her face expressionless. "Did he?" She asked in a neutral tone. Her fingers clenched against the snow-speckled wall. "-And what did my father tell you?"

"Whose father?" Triss said, her patchwork scar stretching wide across her cheek as she smiled. Kelsea thought her face looked ugly, like a disfigured mutt. "The secret's out, lass. No need to pretend any longer."

Kelsea could do little but frown and stare at the ground. "I-I'm sorry, Triss. I don't know what you're-"

Triss gently patted her shoulder. "Save yer sorrys fer someone who wants 'em, girl. Yer blameless, after all." The Demon lifted her gaze, staring into the dull green eyes of the pig-faced woman with quiet disgust. "I know too well how that silly sod thinks: always with the half-truths and shifty words."

"...So he's told you everything?" She asked, knowing that he hadn't.

Triss winked. "Aye... well, as much as the mute bastard will ever speak of anythin'. Seems he's taken more'n passing a shine to ya." She elbowed Kelsea playfully in the arm, nearly knocking her off her feet from the strength of her jostling. "Newlyweds, eh?"

Kelsea's heart leapt at the mention. What had Roland been saying to her? Thankfully, her inhuman abilities allowed her to pretend she had spontaneously blushed at the news. The Demon faked a shy smile.

"Oh Gods, did he really mention it?" She said. Triss nodded.

"Under hard interrogation, o' course. The Captain had to grill 'em a bit, feel 'em out first." Triss shrugged, "Fabian's a paranoid man, doesn't work with those he doesn't trust. My word alone wasn't good enough, even fer Roland. He got personal. Yer name came up."

"I'm sorry for the ruse, Triss." Kelsea said, "Roland is still very - odd about our relationship."

"He's a cagey one, that's fer sure." Triss said, smiling. "I'm half-shocked he even introduced me to ya at all. That bastard would conceal the color of his hair, if he could manage it."

Despite herself, Kelsea giggled. "I will admit, getting him to tell me much of anything about his past before we met has been a great trial."

"Don't take it too personal, lass." Triss said. "Took me over a year to get the grumpy guff to speak more'n a dozen words about himself. Some men just weren't made to share."

Nor women. Kelsea thought. It was discomforting to know that Triss likely knew more about him than anyone, herself included. In many ways, Roland was still a stranger to her.

She decided to change the subject. "The villagers have been much heartened by your company's arrival. I've never seen them in such high spirits."

"Strange folk." Triss said, spitting over the wall. Kelsea resisted the urge to watch the projectile's descent into the snowbanks below. "Stranger still we've never heard about 'em till now. These mountains abet the eastern Magelands, yet none of the local city-states have any clue of this place's existence."

"They can be quite strange." Kelsea admitted, picturing for a moment Almyra's worrying smile. "-But they're kind people. More than I ever expected them to be. They took us in during our greatest need; I don't believe they intend us any harm."

"That remains to be seen." Triss said, letting out a humorless chuckle. "These polygamists are certainly made of sterner stock than most. I've never seen such devastation in a village that managed to actually hold out against a Demon attack. The fighting must've been fierce."

"It was." Kelsea said, shuddering at the memory. Triss gave her a side-eyed look.

"...Been a hard few weeks for you, eh? What with the Briar Dogs and all."

Kelsea nodded. "Between them and the Hautviech, we have had a long string of ill luck. We should have never taken the High Road."

"Hm," Triss murmured. "Did you at least enjoy yer time in Dornich?" Triss asked. "You two ever get to see the Accadian Bells toll in the Chancellor's plaza?"

"Sadly, no." Kelsea said. "We only stayed in the city for a day or so before moving on."

"A shame." Triss said, "You should visit if you ever get the chance. Legend has it that they can be heard all the way to Arjal on clear days, when the wind is still."

"I'd like to see them." Kelsea said with a smile. "I've always loved the sound of church bells."

Triss huffed. "I don't. Makes my inner ear ache. Too many blows to the head, I'd expect."

Kelsea giggled, amused despite herself. "You are a strange woman, Beatrice."

Triss grinned, flashing her a glimpse of her uneven teeth. "Aye. That I am." She lifted her hand to screen her brow, squinting into the distance. "...Now where's this damned Harpy?"

"Better we don't see her." Kelsea replied. "This place has seen more than its fair share of sorrows the last few weeks."

"Aw, come on: where's yer sense of adventure!" Triss said, guffawing again.

Kelsea's mood fell. Her smile died on her face. "...Buried alongside the poor souls who fell in the last attack." She said, remembering the crazed smile of her sister Demon, lit by the sapphire glow of burning balefire. "If I never see another Imp for as long as I live, it will be too soon."

"Gods, he really did find the one woman in the world as dour as he is! Peas in a pod, you two." She jostled Kelsea's shoulder, leaning a little closer than was comfortable.

Triss looked her up and down. "...You decide to join their ranks while you're here?" She nodded in the direction of Kelsea's billowing robes. The Demon spared a glance down at her attire and blushed again.

"A-ah, no." Kelsea felt a nervous twinge at the base of her spine. "This was the only clothing they had on hand that fit me."

"Yeah? How'd you lose yer old ones?" Triss asked. Her teasing smile had returned. Kelsea bristled.

"They were ripped to shreds in the attack. I had no others to replace them." She responded in a harsh tone. She stared Triss directly in the eye. "Roland only just managed to spare me from the Succubus' clutches."

Triss' lips twisted. She glanced away. "...Sorry, lass. I didn't mean to insult ya."

"You didn't." Kelsea said in a stony voice, turning to glare at the empty sky. There was no trace of the Harpy. Her fingernails dug furrows into the stonework crenellations. "-But we have sacrificed a lot to get here. No less than you."

An uncomfortable silence fell between the two women. Kelsea couldn't bring herself to look in Triss' direction. Beneath them, the quiet bustle of the town was dying off. Final preparations were being made for the expedition in the morning, and most of the villagers had already retired to the inner cloister.

The mercenary lifted her head skyward and let out a heavy sigh. The air billowed visibly from her lips like the breath of a dragon. "Ah, I forgot to mention by the way. Roland said he was lookin' for ya."

Kelsea felt a wave of jealousy rise in her chest when she heard her say his name. Swallowing her pride, she turned to face her. "What did he want?"

Triss flashed her a knifecut grin. She hooked her thumbs into her sword belt, stepping a bit too close into her personal space. Kelsea blushed and took an involuntary step backward.

Despite her companion's embarrassment, Triss' smile never wavered. She leaned forward, as if to whisper a secret in Kelsea's ear.

"He told me to say: there are no bells in Dornich."

Kelsea flinched. The reflex saved her life. Instead of piercing her heart, Triss' dagger plunged deep into her shoulder instead.

Snowfall. A chill breeze rustled the high wall. For a brief instant, Kelsea gaped at the blade Triss had lodged in her collarbone. Her hand instinctively went to the wrist that clutched the knife, letting out a soft gasp. Robbed of an instant kill, Triss' grip twisted downward as she brought her full weight in forcing it deeper into Kelsea's chest cavity.

"Triss?!" Kelsea blurted out. Her instincts worked faster than her mind could.

Triss said nothing. The papery smile remained glued to her lips, the corners twisting slowly downward as the mercenary bent her whole effort into widening the wound. There was something different in her wide eyes now. Something cold and hollow.

Something murderous.

Stunned, the Demon staggered back. Triss followed after her, sure steps carrying her forward in an intimate embrace as she wrapped her free arm around Kelsea's body, pinning her in place as she dug the knife deeper. Her hand gripped tight to the hilt that was embedded in her chest. A red, slimy substance dribbled down her shoulder staining the Demon's pristine, white robes.

At last Kelsea's mind caught up with what was happening. She let out a tortured cry, her fingers clenching tight around Triss' wrist. The mercenary did everything in her power to resist the effort, but she was no match for a Succubus' adrenaline-fueled strength. Kelsea wrenched the knife from her chest.

The blade came free, quivering between them like some lurid beast as the two struggled for control of its deadly direction. Kelsea had the strength, but Triss had the angle. Blood dripped in rivulets from the tip of the notched blade.

"Triss, please-" Kelsea begged. But the mercenary did not respond. She instead used her foe's slackening grip to shove the blade in again, deeper this time. Kelsea screamed. The knife glanced off bone this time; she could feel it grinding within her. It was like a thousand needles prickling at her insides.

The imperiled Succubus stumbled, tripping backward and losing her balance as she collapsed onto the ground. Triss followed after, her weight carrying them down in a heap on one another.

Triss was on top of her now, looming over her, her face bent in grisly concentration. In all the commotion, Kelsea had dropped her mortal form, her hellish features rising to the fore.

"No..." Kelsea whimpered, her face clenching as she stared into the merciless eyes of death. Time began to move in slow motion.

Her vision faded, her strength lessened. The human part of Kelsea was in shock, both from the sudden betrayal and from the loss of blood. But there was one thing the mercenary - for all her clever treachery - had not counted upon.

The Demon inside of her wanted to live.

A growl that could come from no mortal source issued up from Kelsea's throat. Her vision went red. Her long tail slithered out from beneath her, wrapping fast around Triss' waist and jerking her backward. It wasn't enough to throw her off, but it did free Kelsea's pinned right hand.

Purple, clawed fingers seized her attacker by the throat. Kelsea could feel Triss' heartbeat through her fingertips. That precious, human warmth...

She snarled, tossing Triss aside like a ragdoll from her perch. The mercenary skidded across the castle wall like a tossed stone, rolling to her stomach nearly a dozen feet away. She let out a grunt of pain.

Kelsea, free for a moment, sat up in a rush. Her shaking fingers caressed the ivory hilt sticking out of her. Her shoulder was aflame with pulsating agony. She could feel her life's essence oozing through her bloodstained robe.

Triss was already on her feet, drawing her sword in one swift movement as she stalked towards her once again. Kelsea, in desperation, took hold of the dagger's hilt, bending her full weight into the effort. Using every ounce of her willpower and strength she managed to rip it free. She let out an anguished gasp, tossing the bloody blade aside.

Triss came at a run. She would be on her in an instant. Kelsea's hand raised, her fingertips thrumming with corruptive power. Triss' eyes went wide. Blue balefire danced on her fingertips, ready to unleash a blast of fire into the mortal's face-

No.

The fire guttered out. Her power ebbed away. Kelsea could not bring herself to do it. For once, she refused to trust her instincts.

It was a mistake. Triss closed the final steps between them and swung at her head. With no options remaining, Kelsea caught the blade with her outstretched hand. It sank deep into her grasp, splitting flesh and tendon like it was nothing. She shrieked in pain.

Triss' momentum propelled her forward, knocking Kelsea to the ground and straddling her once more. Eyes ablaze, the mercenary shoved the sword downwards, bringing the edge towards Kelsea's throat in a sawing motion.