The Tattooed Woman Pt. 13

THE TATTOOED WOMAN - Chapter 13

I hope folks are enjoying the story so far. Please leave comments, as criticism both positive and constructive is inherently useful. Plus, I like reading comments, so that's cool.

Hope you guys had a great Christmas, and have a HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Chapter 13: I was born there

The sky above was a canopy of deepest, darkest blue, it was a clear night and the innumerable stars glittered like so many fireflies. The Moon Goddess Rhiannon shone down upon the world, and her pale light could be seen glittering on the snow-capped peaks of the mountains and in the pale beams that slipped between the branches of the endless sea of trees in the dark forest to illuminate hidden glades with her ethereal radiance. What secrets she must have watched and witnessed in her eternal vigil, but like her cousins Macha and Epona, she kept her own councils and to mortals, she would only whisper of them in dream.

Azure sat upon a log and watched the haar. The great wall of ephemeral fog that was boundary between the realms of the Fae and those of the human folk. Some called it "The Veil", while to others it was simply "The Mist", but it had always fascinated her. At times it shifted and moved as if it were a living thing, sometimes it receded like the tides of the sea revealing glimpses of strange and unknown landscapes, only to roll back and cover them again, like some conjurer using a cloak to conceal their magic.

Here and there a haunting glow could be glimpsed at times in the depths of those shifting vapours, hinting and beckoning, like some strange and alluring wisp, but only the unwary and unwise went in pursuit of such things and many had learned to their cost the perils of wandering aimlessly in that peculiar shroud.

Behind her, the camp had been emplaced and she could smell the stew cooking on the fire, she could hear the movement of the young ones as they bumbled about, the mumble of conversation, the faint gasps as the human wizard and that chubby nun enjoyed a moonlit frolic and the clatter of wooden swords as the swordsman continued his lessons with Cassie and Muriah. Her eyes flicked to the furtive padding of a white hare as it skulked stealthily across the snow, and she sensed the faint shifting of the nearest sentries despite their efforts to remain still and unseen.

Lashelle was as silent as any Dark Elf when she wanted to be but Azure had long since heard her stealthy approach, and she knew the woman's scent, carried by the faintest night breeze as well as she did her own. She smiled to herself and sighed in contentment as a gentle hand trailed across her hair and down to her shoulders.

The younger Dark Elf settled herself on the log by the scout's side and said nothing for a while, simply taking in the night and watching the haunting glimmer of The Veil in the distance. Eventually, she reached out and all but quivered in delight when Azure took her hand in her own.

The scout watched the distant haze silently before murmuring, "I was born in yonder mist."

Lashelle looked at the woman next to her, with silver hair unbound, dark eyes that missed nothing and delicately pointed ears that seemed to hear everything, she was so quick, so deadly, so...

"Beautiful."

Azure smiled at her, "Hmm? Yes, I suppose it is, in its way. It has always fascinated me, sometimes when I see it, I feel almost drawn to it. You know, in the way some sailors say when they speak of the ocean perhaps."

"And you were born there?"

"Indeed. My mother was a huntress, and she had a lodge not so far from the edge of the shroud, for at times things emerged from the mists, and sometimes those things were most quarrelsome, and so my mother was charged with their removal.

"One year, when she was heavy with child the mist shifted, as it sometimes does, and it engulfed the lodge and some portions of nearby domains. Now usually, when this happens those few folk who lived in such proximity to The Veil would simply move for a while, but as I said my mother was heavy with child so she remained, with a small retinue, trusting to the witchlamps to keep them all safe.

The mist receded a week or so later, but I was born in that time. Or so my mother tells me, for all I know it could have been a bedtime tale to delight a young child and make her feel special."

Lashelle chuckled, "You are special, to me."

Azure said nothing, but Lashelle felt her squeeze her hand for a moment. After a while she shifted with a sigh, "I'll leave you to your solitude, I'll be by the fire when you have need of me."

Before she rose the scout whispered, "I don't mind."

"Hmm?"

Azure turned to her and smiled, "I don't mind if you sit with me a while. Mayhap we can watch the moon for a bit if you like."

"I'd like that very much."

Towards the far side of the camp, Claíomh observed as Cassie and Muriah sparred. Their footwork was atrocious, their speed so slow you could fall asleep watching them, their balance was just... awful, and oh dear Gods, their lack of anything resembling poise was almost painful to watch, but despite all that he had to admit they had both shown remarkable improvement from the mind-numbing ineptitude of only a few days ago. Even so, he could see that Muriah was troubled and distracted, for Cassie had gotten in at least two easy hits against the Dark Elven woman who uncharacteristically hadn't cursed the girl even once. His eyes narrowed and he paused the lesson.

"Take a breath both of you and have a drink of water if you have need, you're still truly awful," he grinned, "but not so awful as yesterday, not by a long shot."

As Cassie wiped sweat from her brow, he ambled closer to the Dark Elf, "Something troubles you lass?"

"I'm not a 'lass' damn you!"

He chuckled, "Better, but something gnaws at you today. You need not tell me if you don't wish to, but I'll listen at least if you do."

She eyed the man suspiciously, "You'll mock."

He sniffed, "Maybe, but you'll never know unless you tell me."

The woman looked down and the wooden sword in her hand shook, "I froze."

"Hmm? When?"

Her voice was harsh with self-recrimination, and she blushed as she spoke, "When that thing charged at me. I was utterly petrified with fear. And it would have killed me had not Ashunara pushed me aside. Even then I couldn't even scream I was so afraid."

He smiled, "Oh, is that all."

She snarled at the man, but he grinned at her and spoke before she could spit out the first insult, "Did I ever tell you about my first real fight?"

Muriah frowned in confusion, "What?"

"I had joined the Legions as a half-starved boy, and we were almost immediately posted up to the north for there was trouble brewing. Now those northern folk were right hardy bastards, and I barely knew which end of a sword to hold back then, Hell even you could have beaten me soundly, I was that bad.

"One day we were clearing out a nest of rebels and a man charged at me. Now we outnumbered them more than two to one and we had armour and they had nothing but axes and courage. Anyway, this great bearded giant, or so he seemed to me at the time, went baresark and just ran straight at us shrieking like a damned banshee. He took a pilum in the gut but just batted the thing aside like it was no more than a bee-sting, and he hacked down three of my mates before he fixed his mad bulging eyes on mine, screamed a demented warcry and came right at me! Know what I did?"

"I suppose you killed him?"

"Fuck no. I dropped my sword and totally froze with terror. The Sergeant kicked me aside like a dog and spitted the bastard before he could split my skull with that bloody axe of his," he grinned at the memory, "I got a flogging for it, but I was just so bloody grateful to be alive I barely felt it."

Muriah frowned, "So?"

The swordsman grinned at her, "Well, I thought everyone would take the piss, and some did, but most just got on with it, seeing it for what it was, just the normal behaviour of a daft young recruit who knew no better, and the Sergeant slapped me on the back afterwards, which fucking hurt by the way, and said, "don't worry lad, it'll be easier next time."

"Was it?"

"Not much, no. But eventually, well, eventually, my training started to show, I got better with the sword, and my fear started to fade. It never went away completely though, for only a madman is without fear, but I could manage it."

She peered into his eyes, looking for some deception, but couldn't see anything other than the man telling her a tale of his youth, "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because Muriah, I have no belief in heroes, nor would I trust one if I met them. Only hard experience and harder training can truly be relied upon, luck is fickle and the gifts of the Gods even more so. You train with a sword until its use is like muscle memory, so ingrained that no matter the fear, no matter the terror, your arm will not fail you when you need it. And trust me, if you live long enough, there will come a time when need it you will."

The woman closed her eyes and her voice trembled, "But I was so afraid."

"So what? Unless you are some kind of idiot it seems a normal thing to be afraid when some giant supernatural hound the size of a fucking horse charges you. There's no shame in it, and I would be a lying poltroon if I mocked you for it."

The woman looked away and swallowed, "Do you mean that?"

He grinned wolfishly, "Muriah, I don't think anyone will, but if someone takes the piss, you send them my way and I'll stick a sword in their hands and see just how fucking brave they are."

"Why would you do this for me?"

"Do what?"

"Try to... help me."

He sighed, "Because it's the truth, fear is normal, it is a thing to be controlled and mastered, not avoided and denied, besides, I want to see you beat Captain Ashunara."

Muriah looked back at him, "Do you hate her so?"

"Huh? No, why?"

"Then why do you want to see her humbled?"

He gave her a feral smile, "She's not my student, you are. And what kind of eejit would I be if I didn't want my student to win!"

Cassie passed the waterskin to the Dark Elf and Claíomh hid his grin as the woman accepted with an absentminded nod of gratitude. "Right, enough slacking. You two move like a pair of pregnant goats! Let's put some effort in if you don't mind or you'll feel the flat of my blade."

Nyx smiled as she watched from the shadows. Sensing movement she turned her head and nodded amiably as Elsadore moved to her side. They had joined up together all those long years ago and Nyx knew the big Dark Elf was as deadly a fighter as any she had met, and harder than a coffin nail to boot, but also a good friend. "Sentries are in place Nyx, all's quiet, Captain says she wants a word later on, after supper."

The newly promoted Leftenant nodded towards the fencing class, "He's not bad for a human."

Elsadore chuckled, "With a sword, or in bed?"

"Both."

The big woman chuckled, "I heard he stood by you when things got a bit hairy."

"Aye, he did."

Laughing Elsadore shook her head with a long-suffering sigh of resignation, "Well, you deserve him then, you're both as mad as each other," she sobered, "but I'm glad for you, nonetheless. You mind and tell him from me though, if he doesn't treat you right, I'll rip his fucking head off and use it for a chamber pot."

"Aw Elsie, you say the sweetest things."

The woman grinned, "Gods, nobody's called me that in almost six hundred years, it was Sergeant Surva who gave me that nickname, remember her? She said I was so fucking useless I fought like a human and called me Elsie for a decade."

Nyx nodded, "Old 'Goathoof' herself. She was an evil-tempered bitch if ever there was one. I used to wonder how she got her nickname."

"Ever find out?"

"I did, happened to get drunk with one of her lovers once, quite a nice lass strangely enough, and she told me the nickname was in honour of... let's say a certain part of her anatomy."

Elsadore had produced a flask and the comment made her splutter and choke on the drink until Nyx slapped her on the back to stop her coughing fit.

"Fucking what?! Seriously?"

Nyx filched the booze and took a swig before nodding, "Would I lie?"

"Fucking right you would! Hey, I heard a funny thing, it was whispered in my ear that a certain somebody gave a certain young slave girl a gold dragon out of the kindness of her heart. You know anything about that?"

Nyx's eyes narrowed and her lip curled in disgust, "Nope."

Elsadore chuckled and quipped, "Would you lie?"

"Fucks sake! You're going to take the piss for the next century, aren't you?"

The big Dark Elf leaned close and whispered, "Well, I would, but not this time."

"Why the hell not? I would in you... Ohh, you didn't... did you?"

Elsadore looked away, "I can honestly say I did not give so much as a single copper groat to that girl."

Nyx pursed her lips.... "So, who did you give it to."

The big woman blushed, "I gave a gold to the Captain for her."

"I'm not mocking, but mind if I ask why?"

"Because of Varoona. I like the girl and that big weird painted creature saved her. Now it's not like she's going to need the coin, anyone trying to put her on an auction block is going to get a fucking big surprise I think, though there's this evil part of me that really wants to see someone try. Is that bad?"

"It might have a certain comedic value; I have to admit."

"Well, anyway, I figured she looks after that wee slave girl like she's kin, so I gave the coin over for her, call me a fool if you like, I don't regret it."

Nyx passed the drink back to her, "You're no fool Elsie, oh, and by the way just what the fuck is this stuff we're drinking? It tastes like it was fermented in an Orc's loincloth."

Elsadore sniffed, "Well, I'll bow to your experience regarding the flavour of an Orcs underwear, but it's a black tea, I think it's made from mushrooms. I traded with one of the Dwarves for it. He said it got him drunk as fuck."

"Oh, for the love of... Elsadore, anything that can get a Dwarf drunk might fucking kill you, you mad bitch."

The woman grinned happily, "Doesn't seem to be having much effect to be honest, though I did get this really weird urge to slobber all over one of the Orcs, and that's just strange."

"Hell's teeth! Pass it here. Least I can do is drink half of it, so you don't end up comatose, or shagging a bear or somesuch."

"I knew you were a true friend Anyxia, ooh those stars are quite pretty."

"Fuck."

...

It was some hours later, after a supper of hot stew that Ashunara called her council. Strangely a few slaves were present around the small campfire where she sat, the keg of Dwarven brandy had been breached and the fiery liquid shared all about the camp.

Nyx groaned and tried to still the terrible pounding in her head as the Captain spoke about... stuff.

Sensing something amiss she looked up blearily, to see Ashunara staring at her expectantly, "Huh?"

"I asked for your report."

"I have to report that I have a fucking headache..." she muttered.

"What?"

"I said, we're only a few miles from The Veil and we should pass through early tomorrow, assuming I don't keel over and fucking die."

The Captain tilted her head and Nyx was almost certain her lips were just about curling into that wicked fucking smile of hers, "Anything else?"

"Well yes. I must be really drunk but I think I've lost the ability to count."

What?"

"Well, we had a dozen Orcish mercenaries with us when we started, and we lost three right?"

Ashunara frowned in confusion, "Yes, why?"

"Well, we seem to have eleven again, so I guess we picked up a couple of stragglers. No idea where from, but the other Orcs don't seem to mind."

The Captain grinned, "Oh, I might have an idea as to their origin. They got any gear?"

"Not when they arrived, no, just some hefty clubs they'd fixed up for themselves."

"Well, if we have any spare gear can you..."

Orcs aint ones for charity Captain, but er... it might not be necessary."

Okay, what did you do, out with it."

"Well Captain, I know we're not supposed to be gambling when we're on the march, but I was drunk, and I got to playing dice. Anyway, I had a bit of a run of bad luck, apparently."

Ashunara shook her head with a wry smile, "Let me guess, you were playing dice with a couple of Orcs?"

"Well, it's funny you should say that."

"What did you lose?"

"A couple of hatchets, a spear and a pair of good knives, I couldn't find any armour to fit them, or I suppose I would have lost that too. I guess luck just wasn't with me."

"Luck has fuck all to do with your dice Nyx, and we both know it."

"Hey!"

"Anyway, well done. Anything else I should know?"

"Aye, Elsadore is totally shitfaced, I've got Varoona watching her. She drank half a flask of some Dwarven mushroom brew, it was evil stuff."

Ashunara nodded, "Least she only drank half. I take it you poured out the rest, yes?"

"Well, I poured it somewhere."

"What?"

"Gods, there's no need to fucking shout. It's gone."

Chuckling the Captain turned back to the others gathered around the small fire. The light from the flames reflected in their faces, some expectant, some nervous, and one apparently oblivious.

"So, we have things to discuss. When we pass through yonder mist tomorrow, we will emerge into The Fae, and things will be... different. Masterless humans are not permitted to wander abroad in much of that realm, and those places where this is not so are perilous indeed. In our domain, you will be seen as collared slaves and my folk will treat you as such. On this side, I can free you and all I lose is coin, but I cannot simply free you when we reach The Fae."

The swordsman spoke up, "Most here don't know what that means Captain, maybe you should tell them something of it."

Ashunara nodded and sipped her brandy, "Slaves are sold at auction, and they work for whoever buys them. The work may be hard but unless they are troublesome, they will not be abused. It's not out of kindness mind, but more that my folk would view such behaviour as... hmm, an "embarrassing weakness" if you will. My kind is a covetous lot and there is pride and social status to be gained by having such well-treated and above all valuable property, and you might be surprised by how much effort a slave owner will put into making sure their property is cared for and even," she laughed, "shown off."

"Most of the slaves here will work in shops, and for traders and crafters and the like, some might work in fields, it depends upon their gifts. In time most slaves are able to buy their freedom and then they can leave our lands and go where they will. Many choose to stay."

Cassie looked up, "Why? Er, sorry Captain."

Ashunara smiled, "Well Cassie, it's The Fae, and we are enchanting of course. But in addition, the magics of the Fae can cure almost any ill, and even a human could look forward to a healthy life of well over a hundred years, and maybe even double that. But sometimes it's simply because they have married, or been adopted by some family, or house. Also, we have garnered many skills in our long lives, and far longer history and some artisans and crafters find delight in learning such things."

"Captain?"

"Yes, Cassie?"

The girl blushed, "Why do you take slaves?"

Ashunara sighed as she poked the fire with a stick, "Because we are a prideful folk, and we are dying. Every year our numbers diminish, and every year we are fewer, but we are too proud to ask for help. In short, we... need you."

She stirred, "However, let us speak of other things. For it is your fates I would discuss, if I may."

Looking about she smiled, "I may as well go round you all in turn. Firstly Maggie, you are a wondrous cook, you have kept this company fed through thick and thin, and I don't think I've ever heard you speak a harsh or intemperate word. If you go to auction, it will be with our best wishes and highest recommendation, and you would fetch a good price."