The Tattooed Woman Pt. 27

Muriah looked thoughtful, "So, you're not just making a mockery of me then?"

Ashunara held her gaze steadily, "Muriah, ours is a hard path and I'm not saying I'll never have occasion to rebuke you, but that comes with the life of a sellsword and is one of the burdens of command and authority that fall upon me, burdens you might carry yourself one day if you choose to pursue this career. Now you volunteered to come, and when you swear your oath to me you become one of mine. But that goes both ways Muriah, I will expect and demand your service, even if it gets you killed one day, but you in turn have the right to expect and demand my support as your Captain, and I've never turned my back on one of mine yet, and I hope to the Gods that I never will."

"Truly?"

"Oh, don't take my word for it girl, be clever, ask around, see what is said of this life and of your fellow soldiers and especially of their officers before you make your decision. As I said, I'll not hold you to the hasty promise you made earlier. If you desire to return to Falsara than I'll have my sister make it so."

The younger Dark Elf eyed the Captain thoughtfully for a long moment, clearly mulling over what had been said, before she answered, "I don't need to ask around, I'll serve," she bared her teeth in a grin, "but I'm still going to kick your arse someday."

"You'll play merry Hell getting it done, but I'll give you the chance in time, um... mayhap you might fancy a wee wager on the result perhaps?"

Nyx shook her head and muttered, "It's a trap."

With a chuckle Ashunara looked about and nodded, "Then we are all agreed, you shall make your oaths and settle your affairs. Tonight, we feast, and once our revels are ended, we shall take our rest, for at dawn on the day after tomorrow, we march!"

...

It was sometime later when Cassie led Ellén to her room, she was grinning and giggling in childlike glee as the blonde woman stumbled behind her, laughing even as she complained, "But I do not understand why I must keep my eyes closed, is it some game?"

"Of a sort, here step forward, there! Now, you may open them."

The room was not overly large but looked comfortable enough, with a cosy looking bed and a fireplace, but what dominated the centre of the room was a wooden mannequin displaying a gown of green silk. There was a silken sash around the slender waist clasped with a knotted gold hoop and diaphanous shawl across the shoulders. The dress glimmered in the witchlight and had obviously been made by Elven artisans.

Ellén drew a breath, "Oh, t'is wondrous fine, you shall surely look beautiful in it, will you wear it tonight for the revels?"

Cassie blushed, "I, um, bought it for you."

"Me?"

"Well, I cannot simply magick up such garb like some good folk, but I wanted to at least repay you a little for the kindness you showed me when I was your, er, guest. And you did make me a dress after all."

"One you never got to wear."

"T'is the thought that counts."

Ellén smiled at the sentiment, "As you say, should I try it on then?"

Cassie grinned happily, "For sure! T'is yours after... oh dear Gods!"

Utterly unconcerned Ellén had slipped the simple frock she wore from her shoulders allowing it to slide to the floor, and stood there naked with a quizzical look upon her face, "What?"

Blushing furiously Cassie turned her back to the girl, only to see Adair standing silently in the open doorway of the chamber, with her head tilted to one side curiously as she watched the scene before her.

"Um, I can explain!"

...

Ensconced in her study, Aventine Varro was reading the myriad reports and accounts relating to the business of her House with ever increasing irritation when there came a respectful knock upon her chamber door. She muttered to herself, "I hear a rapping," before looking up from the desk and calling out, "enter!"

The guard outside opened the heavy door to admit Matron Livia, the elderly housekeeper, governess, and one-time assassin of House Varro. As always, the tall Dark Elf appeared almost sombre in her choice of dress, her silver hair was bound up tight and secured with a simple clasp, and even now, after so many years of peaceful retirement Aventine still wondered how many weapons the woman had concealed about her person.

The Matriarch stirred and rose from behind her desk, "Matron Livia, it is not so often that you attend me thus, might I offer you a libation?"

The older Dark Elf deferred quietly, "I thank you kindly Matriarch, but it would not be seemly."

"Oh, come now Matron, did you not scold me when I was a quarrelsome child, or failed in my lessons in some respect, and I'm certain I caught you cuffing my sister often enough when she was overly precocious, I think we are beyond such petty concerns as to what is seemly."

Livia made to protest, "Ah, but you were not Matriarch then, and your sister was..."

"A brat?"

"Well, t'is not my place to offer such an opinion of course."

Aventine smiled and poured the woman a drink, "But?"

Livia shook her head and her face split in a grin that made her look a hundred years younger, "Oh, dear Gods she was awful! She once sneaked into my room and set fire to my hair as I slept after I rebuked her one day for her poor deportment. My sisters in the guild mocked me for a decade at least to be so ambushed."

Aventine burst out laughing, "Oh Hells teeth I recall! You came screaming into my chamber wild-eyed and reeking of smoke. I almost had apoplexy from laughter," she sobered with difficulty, "well, I mean it must have been traumatic for you I suppose. She earned a beating for her mischief did she not?"

Livia took the drink with a chuckle, "Such punishments never seemed to make the slightest difference to her, except to perhaps provoke her to further misdeeds."

The Matriarch smiled sadly as she revisited her memories, "After our mother passed I never had it in me to curb her wildness. I saw too much of her in Ashunara."

"There was kindness too though was there not? She made an effort to bake me a cake once upon my birthday, I remember it well."

"As you should! She damned near burned the House down around our ears."

"Well, I was five centuries old, and that's rather a lot of candles after all."

"One has to wonder how she managed to steal so many, I mean that must have taken serious effort and determination, given she was less than ten years old at the time."

Livia grinned, "It is a marvel how even the Gods managed to squash so much mischief into such a small creature, but they did," she risked a glance at her Matriarch and her voice was strangely soft for once, "I missed her too you know."

Aventine shook her head with a sigh before looking back at the older woman, "So, I take it you have not come to me to reminisce however pleasant as this may be. Tell me then Matron Livia, how may your Matriarch serve her House?"

The woman drew a breath to shake away the cobwebs of memory, straightened with a frown, and once again became the severe Housekeeper of old "I regret I am in receipt of complaints."

Aventine groaned, "Regarding my sister? Who did she kill this time?"

"Only indirectly Matriarch, they are for the most part aimed at her servant Muriah."

"Muriah? What has she done?"

"There was apparently something of a disturbance at the slave-castle and she made attempt to knife a daughter of another House."

"Another slave?"

"No, a freeborn woman."

"Oh my."

"Indeed."

"Who was it, were they harmed, and of course, what are they after?"

"It was Selene of House Ral she went for, and her victim suffered no lasting harm, but I think this complaint originates with her Matriarch, for Selene herself has remained strangely quiet regarding the matter."

"Hmm, your thoughts?"

"I heard tell that Selene suffered a humiliation at the hands of the Overseer at the slave castle and I suspect this complaint to be more form than substance. The language used in the letter was not so strident or demanding as it could have been, and it appears they seek only some face-saving gesture as opposed to punitive damages."

"Do I need them for anything?"

"The House of Ral is so far neutral with regard to your ambitions," she paused, "you know, in the right light this could be considered an overture of sorts. A gesture on our part might be viewed favourably and perhaps bring them into the fold as it were."

"What do you suggest then?"

Livia pondered, "We could I suppose have the girl flogged, perhaps even allowing Selene to administer the chastisement? It would be a very minor punishment for such a serious assault after all, yet the expiation would be unmistakeable."

Aventine snorted, "Not as unmistakeable as Ashunara's reaction. Selene would be dead by the end of the day, and we would be at war with House Ral not five minutes later. I think perhaps a gentler solution might be in order."

"As you say."

The Matriarch pursed her lips in consideration, "Forward an invitation to Selene, perhaps if we lavish her with a little attention, she might be better disposed towards us. Besides, it will be good practice for Hildegard in her new role. In fact, that is the angle we shall play here. I will ask for her help in guiding Hildegard, claiming that House business is preying upon my time at present and telling her I would view it as a favour. Selene is quite young is she not? She would be keen to accumulate a favour from House Varro, and that very ambition would prevent her from any tendency towards cruelty with respect to Hildegard. Besides, it may actually be good for the Human to receive some measured exposure to our ways and to meet new people."

Livia smiled, "Multiple birds with a single quarrel, and nothing lost if it fails, most astute."

"Well, Matron, I was taught by the best after all," she frowned, "did you not mention that there were further complaints?"

"Only one more, also regarding Muriah. Her mother, the Matriarch of House Fel, accuses you of misusing her daughter and demands her release. She offers ransom towards that end."

"Particulars?"

"House Fel stands in opposition, and I doubt there is any overture we could make, well, any peaceful overture that is, that would induce them to shift. Other than that, the ransom is an adequate one."

"Hmm, in that case tell them to eat shit, politely of course."

"Oh, of course."

...

It was wet, and miserably fucking cold! That was Kasa-Dur's first thought when she opened her eyes. It was followed closely by, "Everything hurts, so I'm not in the Heavens."

Wincing with pain she tried to roll onto her side, but the lancing torment in her arm and ribs caused an agonising hiss to escape her cracked lips and brought her efforts to a gasping halt.

Slowly turning her head, she saw the Orc crouched by the mouth of the cave sharpening a makeshift stone knife as he worked on filleting a fish of some kind on a flat piece of rock. He had stripped off his armour and his scarred features, lean physique and tribal markings lent the old warrior a distinctly predatory aspect as her movement caused him to turn his gleaming yellow eyes in her direction.

"Nope, definitely not the Heavens. Not enough good-looking men, and too many ugly fucking Orcs."

She groaned, and her voice was as cracked as her ribs, "Why the fuck am I not dead?"

The Orc grinned and ambled towards her, holding out a piece of raw fish on the end of his makeshift blade, "Eat. Chew slow, savour moisture. There is little fresh water still."

She took the proffered morsel and did as she was bid. The uncooked flesh would normally have been less than appetising, but she found she was ravenous and soon polished it off. Seeing her looking up hopefully the grinning warrior held out another neatly sliced portion, "Not too much, not too fast, I will fetch what water we have."

"What happened?"

The Orc chuckled, "Stupid Dragon took spear in throat, rolled about screaming like child, crushed many of its own warriors, was pretty funny. Then rolled against tower, toppled it into sea, that less funny."

She looked about as she chewed, "A cave?"

The thing nodded, "Tower come to pieces, stones and bodies falling into sea, some blocks land on head, some on arm, ribs," he paused with a frown, "you manage to get hit by many falling stones. Might have been less painful if you had missed some."

She groaned, "I'll try and remember that the next time I get kicked into the sea by a fucking Dragon!"

He nodded cheerfully, "Maybe good idea."

"How did we get here?"

"I saw you sinking, grabbed body and swam. Knew small island not so far away, had seen cave before. Came here to hide."

"She nodded, "Well, my thanks for saving me I suppose."

The Orc grinned as he held out another piece of fish for her, "Well, hunting might have been hard with so many eyes maybe watching, so," he eyed her and licked his lips, "I might have needed fresh rations."

She stared at the thing in horror, "You're jesting."

The thing chuckled again and moved away to the mouth of the cave.

...

Ashunara choked on her drink, spraying the fiery liquid across the table and coughing until the tips of her dark ears had turned an alarming shade of blue, "Fucking what?!"

Adair stared at her blankly for a moment, "It's Ellén, I think she seeks to seduce Cassie to her bed, and I was hoping for your advice on the matter. My knowledge is limited, but by all accounts, you are well versed in such earthly affairs."

The Dark Elf was still coughing and waved her hand desperately as she tried to master her breathing, "No, not that bit, before... w-what you said before..."

"Oh, she's a Dragon in Human form."

"Yes, that bit."

After another moment the Dark Elf looked up at the tall woman and her eyes narrowed, "Wait, what do you mean, "By all accounts?"

...

The mountain was tall and bleak, its surface marred by icy crags of razor-sharp rock and swept by bitter winds. Its peak seemed perpetually shrouded and hidden by malevolent and angry stormclouds. It had never been scaled, no mortal had ever gazed upon its summit, and of those few foolhardy souls who braved the slopes and dared enter the mists warding that banshee-haunted pinnacle few there were who ever returned, and fewer still would ever speak of the things they had seen.

There were other peaks in this forgotten range but this one stood alone, as if even the other mountains knew better than to cast their shadow upon this lonely spire.

She gazed up at the fel slopes, and the bitter wind carried the keening of spirits to her ears even as it tugged at her dark cloak and darker hair. Ice and snow pelted her as though the mountain itself was furious at this unwarranted intrusion upon its solitude, but she simply smiled, and shook her head as she made her lonely way, and the ghosts knew better than to trouble her.

Reaching a high point, she gazed at the mountainous crag before her and looking to the skies she closed her eyes and breathed deeply of the cold air. After a long moment she opened them again and with a sigh reached down to tap upon the stone with the end of her gnarled shillelagh, "Awaken old friend, I have work for you again."

With a grinding of stone, a hissing of breath and a grumbling of rock, the crag began to shift.