The Tattooed Woman Pt. 14

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Chapter 14: The Enemy of my Enemy

A fulminating circle of vivid fire ignited on the ground causing the newly fallen snow to sizzle briefly to sudden annihilation. In the darkness, the illumination of the brilliant flames lit the clearing and caused the bare trees to cast grotesque and lurid shadows. Then, with a sudden flash of sorcerous energies, the flames were all but snuffed out and the shadows were gone. All save one.

This orphan shadow was a pale figure, lithe and still, poised in an alert, predatory crouch as its head turned slowly this way and that. The gloom beneath the trees was no barrier as eyes like chips of dark flint peered about, missing no detail. The thing took in the sounds and scents of the surrounding wood for a moment until it was satisfied that its arrival had been unobserved by any prying eye. Only then did it move, gliding forward in utter silence as it melted into the darkness and swiftly vanished.

Wolves howled in the distance and the creature paused for a moment to listen to their melancholy song. Its perceptions and senses were so acute that it could still detect the unearthly stench of the Hellhounds, the vile aroma of the Barghests was faint now and snow covered their tracks but even so it followed their trail effortlessly, moving in silence and with great stealth as it crept towards the shrine, like some prowling burglar, filled with malicious intent, and an insatiable hunger.

The thing slithered aside en route, drawn by the red scent of fresh prey and soon enough it located a cave. Gleaming eyes easily pierced the darkness within and when sensitive fingers touched cold embers it gleaned much knowledge, "Three there were, two young females and an older man, all human, all ripe. But... there was something else, something that left no tracks, no scent, but it was here nonetheless..."

With a sibilant hiss of frustration, the thing turned to follow the spoor of fresh meat towards the shrine.

A mist, easily conjured, shrouded the place, hiding movement and muffling sound as it continued its stealthy advance, creeping, half-crouched, like a wild creature, it was nigh invisible, save for eyes that glittered like hot coals.

The thing paused to listen and easily detected the shallow breathing of the three mortals inside the shrine. The murmuring sound of their hearts beating was like a lure, promising a hot rich and crimson reward, and it felt its fangs and claws elongating and sharpening instinctively as the desire to feed became more pronounced. It licked its lips with sinuous tongue and slid towards the doorway before hesitating, "Seek first, observe, probe the mind of any you find, learn what may be learned, and when done, then, and only then, may you feed."

The instructions had been given by one he dared not defy and so with only a soft disgruntled snarl of hunger, the thing extended its senses towards the sleeping mortals as it sought to enter their dreams.

"Here now Clamach, what are ye doing out there?"

The old woman had watched the thing from the shadow inside the shrine before shaking her head sadly and shuffling forward almost to the threshold of the entranceway.

The creature froze as the woman came into view and it became so still it all but merged with the shadow and mist, but the crone peered into the dark and called his name a second time, "Clamach, come out now lad, let me see you."

The Abhartach moved from the gloom and the old woman's eyes twinkled in the moonlight as she smiled, "Och, there you are, why are you trying to scare an old woman now, your granny Jessie would be black affronted by this behaviour lad."

The thing felt its eyes bulge and it swallowed in shock at the woman's words.

"You cannot know those names, woman."

"Can I not? And was Jessie not the one who looked after ye when your folks were taken by the plague, and was she not one that followed the old ways? Come forth child, let me look at you."

The thing trembled as it stepped forward, drawn by her words. It shook its head as they dug up old memories, like disinterred bones from a festering grave, long forgotten, bitter like unwanted bile and its clawed hands shook.

His voice was a painful whisper, "That was sooo long ago, you cannot..."

The woman looked at the boy and sighed, "Oh, you're a poor wee thing are ye not, it's a hard road you've travelled these long years lad."

The lad sniffed, and swallowed, "You knew Jessie?"

The woman chuckled, "Och, I mind her well, a big red-haired woman with a hooked nose. She took you in when your folks perished. Every Beltain, and Imbolc she would come to the stones near your croft, just by the old barrow, with a cockerel, or a chicken, and make offering to Macha for the prosperity of her kin. I mind she gave the goddess a right scolding when her man died in yon blizzard, thought it unfair she did, and him a follower of Lugh of all things. You'd think she'd serve her complaints up on his platter, but no, it was the Goddess that drew her ire. Still, she was a good lass for all she had a temper on her, though she did like a dram now and again."

His voice was like a shadow of some bitterly frozen winter wind as it bared its fangs in a snarl, "And look what good her offerings did, see what the Gods have done to me."

"Aye, you do look a wee bit scunnered and ill-used. Still, I doubt Jessie would be happy to see you skulking about like this. Even so, I doubt her prayers were unheard, for here you are after all."

The old woman stepped closer, "Tell me lad, what happened?"

The creature shook and when it spoke its voice seemed to have lost some of the cold, inhuman hardness and sounded more like that of a frightened youth, filled with pain, misery and old loss, "I... I caught the plague, like my folks, and I could not stand it. In fear, I accepted a bad bargain. I'd always had nightmares after they died, for it was me that found them all black and cold on their bed. When I saw the sores on my own skin it was like being a child again and I was mortally afraid. So, like a coward, I took what was offered, with no thought to cost."

The woman shook her head, "You are no coward! When young Logain fell through the ice when you were fishing, who was it that went in after him and dragged him ashore? Almost at the cost of your own life, and you being but a lad at the time. Do you not remember how your folks were so proud of you that day."

"There is no way you could know such things, it's impossible, how...?"

She stepped almost to the very edge of the threshold and tapped her long nose with a gnarled finger, "Ask me no questions lad, and I'll tell ye no lies, is it not enough that I know?"

The boy lurched backwards, unbalanced as he threw up his hands. It hissed, fangs flashing in the silver moonlight, fingertips edged with black nails, as sharp as razors, "No! Come no closer, that boy is gone, long gone, I am a monster wearing his shape is all. I hunger so, and already you are close enough I could snatch you from the doorway in the blink of an eye."

The old woman smiled, "You cannot fool me Clamach, I see the lad in front of me. If he was gone, as you say you would not warn me so," she chuckled, "and if you go a snatching at some poor old woman like myself you might not be so happy with the result, I doubt you would find a gnarled bag of bones like me such a juicy morsel after all."

"Even so, I... I might... hurt you, and... I... I don't want to."

"You look to be in pain lad. Is there aught I can do?"

The boy shivered and he looked away, "No, it's just hunger, it never leaves, I am beyond help."

The woman whispered, "Why linger here lad, why not take the path to Tir Na NÓg, and be with your kin?"

He shook his head, "They would never allow such a beast as I to enter. And I fear to tread that path."

"Och, it's no big thing, just a path that all must tread one day, and would your kin not welcome you?"

The monster looked at the woman as red tears dripped from pitch-black eyes and snarled, "They would turn their backs on me in shame, and rightly so, I've done such terrible things."

"As have we all."

The crone gave a great sigh, "If you care to make an offering you could ask the Goddess for help. I think she would listen to a brave lad like yourself."

He shook his head, "I have nothing, and I could not enter the shrine even if I did, some magic prevents me."

"Have you nothing red mayhap, for she has a fondness for such things. I could take it inside for you if you like."

Clamach looked at her and then flinched, "W... would a drop of my blood do?"

She grinned as she looked down at the boy and Clamach began to wonder at how tall she stood, "Blood has always been among the best of offerings mortal. Mayhap you could smear it upon my hand, and I will stain the stone inside with it later."

The Abhartach used his long talons to effortlessly slit the skin of his hand and droplets of cold red ichor oozed from the wound. The woman reached out, he smeared the gore upon her cold palm, and she nodded with a sly smile, "Those that come here with an offering usually seek a boon. What would you ask of the Goddess young Clamach?"

His voice broke and he choked as his shoulders trembled, "An end."

She nodded to the eastern horizon, "Simple enough, for the sky is brightening with the dawn light yonder, Lugh approaches in his chariot and Rhiannon already hides behind the mountains."

He looked up at her and swallowed, "I am afraid, will it hurt?"

The tall, dark-haired woman gazed at him warmly, "No lad, you've been hurt enough. Here, take my hand and I'll stay with you a while. Jessie and Logain, and all your kin are waiting, the Goddess will open the path for you I'm sure, and I know they will be glad to see you again after so long."

The boy trembled in fear as the sun rose and the flames took him, but the woman held his hands in her strong grip and as she promised, there was no pain.

After it was done the mists parted and she watched as a light breeze took the ashes, her expression was a hard one, her brow furrowed and her dark eyes were as unreadable as they were fathomless, "Be at peace Clamach. When the time comes those that did this cruel thing to you will learn that, in the end, all debts must be settled."

...

When Gorsini awoke he found himself stirring from his bedroll with a mind full of reluctantly morbid thoughts. He sat up and peered down at the two women lying nearby, both still asleep and wrapped in their bedrolls, "Strange, I thought we set a watch."

A movement nearby caught his attention and he looked to find the old crone standing nearby gazing at him intently. She was still cowled in her tattered old shawl, but her eyes glittered in the firelight as she cackled softly, "Sleep well did ye Captain? So much for breakfast, I suppose."

He shook his head and rubbed his eyes as if to clear out the fog of sleep, "I'm sorry lass, I thought to set a watch, and here I am caught asleep like some green recruit," he began to untangle himself from his blankets, "but I promised you breakfast, so I'd best get to work, or we'll be marching hungry this day."

The woman favoured him with a grin, "Lass, is it? Oh, merciful night, men are so endlessly amusing! Still, a good night's sleep never did anyone any harm, and there's no danger to be found here for them that is welcome."

"Even so, the porridge will not take long, and we still have bacon," he glanced at the huddled forms of the two sleeping women for a moment and shook his head sadly.

The crone interrupted his thoughts, "Does something bother ye Captain, you were stirring in your sleep. A bad dream mayhap," she cackled, "or does your conscience trouble you perchance?"

The man looked at her sharply and took a breath to give a sharp reply, but instead, he subsided, and his shoulders slumped, "All men of the sword should have a troubled conscience unless they've already lost their souls entire."

The woman hunched down to peer at him, "What ails you then, man?"

"There is a thing I think I must do, but it is a bitter betrayal, and it troubles me."

The woman's eyes glittered, "What is this terrible deed?"

He hesitated, "I cannot speak of it now."

The crone cackled again and nodded to the slumbering women, "Oh, they are fast asleep, and unlikely to wake for a wee while I think, tell me what it is that troubles you so. Old folks make good listeners they say after all."

Gorsini sighed, "We flee to the Fae, pursued by those who would kill us all, and they have enough magic to hunt us to ground if we simply took to the hills. Only in the Fae will be safe from them and beyond their spells. But therein lies the rub. I am a known man there, a slaver, aye, and a killer. I will surely receive rough treatment," he looked again at the two sleeping women, "as will any who travel with me."

The old woman nodded, "You have a plot in mind?"

He squared his shoulders and met her gaze, "I do, but I despise it. As we draw closer to the Fae, and when I suspect our capture by its denizens is imminent, then I must betray these women who think me their friend, and somehow put them in a collar and bind them. That alone I think will be no easy task, but if I can manage it, I might just be able to spin a tale to our captors saying that I wish to sell them both in exchange for my own freedom, or at least favourable treatment."

"Devious, do you believe your scheme has merit Captain?"

Gorsini gave a bitter laugh, "In some ways perhaps. I do not think it will do me any good though, my fate is sealed unless I meet a truly kindly and above all gullible Dark Elf."

The old woman chuckled with wry humour as she eyed the man, "I think there is little chance of that."

The man grinned, "You speak the truth there, no, I'll be for a beating and chains no doubt, but if I can convince the Dark Elves that these two women are my victims, and not my allies, then I might mitigate their treatment, at least in part. The trouble is, the Black Eldar and their like are fiendishly good at sniffing out a deception, and both Magda and Dana have honest hearts. They would make fucking awful liars. So, they must believe the betrayal to be real, in order to tell a convincing tale, and truthfully it hurts my heart to do this to them," he laughed, "assuming I can! They are like as not to beat me senseless when I make the attempt for they are not weaklings."

The old woman eyed the man closely for a moment, "You do this for their benefit though?"

"Aye! Oh, it would be nice if I met some truly dim-witted or charitable type or could concoct a tale that saw us all treated well, but I think that is beyond credibility. In truth, I see no other way, except to risk us all being equally harangued and abused by our captors."

"They will be vexed."

Gorsini gave a harsh laugh, "Vexed? Gods you have a gift, a positive gift for understatement. If I do this to them and they ever get the chance to repay this betrayal, they will like as not cut off my manhood and fry my balls on a skillet. But," he sighed, "it's worth risking their anger if I can make things go a bit easier for them."

"Do you do this because they are such pretty wee things Captain?"

Gorsini scratched his nose and grinned, "Maybe, I know it's true I've always been a fool for a pretty face, but they are of my Company nonetheless, and I cannot help but try and protect them. I like to think I'd do the same for any."

She chuckled, "You do know that they realised their fate when they chose to go with you and would accept it willingly, for they are not fools?"

"Aye, they are brave companions, and my plan reflects no weakness in them, but what kind of Captain would I be if I did not at least try to do good by those that follow my command?"

Outside a cold wind whistled about the shrine and crows and ravens stirred in the trees. The woman sighed and patted his arm, "I understand Captain, I too betrayed someone close to me, a long time ago. Thinking to protect them I stole many things, including their birthright from her and cast her away though it near broke my heart to do so," the crone smiled as she looked off towards the doorway and her voice was distant, "oh, she was so like me, stubborn and obstinate beyond words, defiant to the last. She could be thoroughly vexing, and I loved her for it. But in the end, I did what I had to do Captain, as you must."

Gorsini nodded sadly, "Then you know better than I how bitter such a cup is."

The woman looked thoughtful, "Would a sleeping draught help? I can tell ye how to concoct one, and there are sufficient roots and the like to be found nearby."

"Could you brew it for me? I can pay."

She grinned, "I might have something to hand that will do the trick," she eyed him and her eyes gleamed, "tell me Captain, you wouldn't have anything red about you perchance?"

...

Captain Ashunara lay on her cot and watched the shadows at play on the roof of her tent. The body of the naked woman who lay at her side felt deliciously soft and warm, and she sighed in contentment as she listened to the enticing sound of her gentle breathing. Idly she traced a finger lightly down along the girl's spine and leaned closer, kissing the back of her neck, eliciting a soft murmur from the sleeping woman.

Ashunara had looked up from her small chart table as the nun slipped into her tent after the camp had gone quiet. She smiled at the woman and pointed at her silver flask, "Hildegard, can I pour you some brandy, there is a little left. Have you made your mind up so soon as to what it is you wish to do in the Fae?"

Hildegard played with the ends of her auburn hair as she stood awkwardly and she bit her lower lip nervously, "I... I want to see your leg."

The Dark Elf's brows raised, and she grinned, "Excuse me?"

The human blushed, "Your wound! I... ah, I mean I need to see the wound on your leg."

Ashunara stepped closer and her lip curled in a sly smile as she gazed into the woman's eyes, "Is that so?"

"Y... yes."

The Captain turned her back, unclipped the ornate clasp that held her hair and allowed it to spill down as she looked back over her shoulder, "You'll need to help with my mail."

The woman's hand trembled as she undid the laces and then she giggled like a child as she helped Ashunara to awkwardly wriggle free of the hauberk. Hefting the armour Hidegard mused, "T'is heavier than I thought Captain. You wear this always?"

"You get used to it, and I am fortunate for Dark Elven mail weighs less than half of its human counterpart, it is more flexible and offers greater protection, it is a significant advantage in battle. But no, I do not wear it always, when not in the field I dress more... comfortably."

When she stood after finally extricating herself free of the mail her tresses spilt about her shoulders in a silver cascade and she chuckled, "And as you can see it does wonders for my hair."

Hildegard began to work on the lacings of the padded gambeson the warrior wore under her armour, and she laughed mischievously, "I hope you do not wear this when you visit that bordello you mentioned Captain, you'd be barely undressed when your time was up."

Slipping her arms free the Dark Elf grinned, "No, I tend to wear something more... ah, suited to my purpose when I visit. Though being undressed by a beautiful woman, or handsome man before my bath is worth the coin, to be sure."

"Have you no servants or baths at home Captain?"

"Oh, both a plenty, but in truth, there is an illicit thrill to visiting such a place and paying good coin to be served such. It's more than just a little enticing," she sobered, "besides, any word or action I take within my own household would undoubtedly be relayed to my sister in due course, and I savour my privacy at such times."