The Tattooed Woman Pt. 28

Nyx shook her head, "It does not exactly bode well."

Ashunara sighed, "It is what it is, needs must we do what we can with what we've got, as we always have. Now, what of our own disposition?"

"The camp is well placed, supplies are plentiful still, we have fresh water. We're still close enough to home that it's unlikely we're in any danger of attack, but t'is good practice, so the pickets and sentries are emplaced, snares and traps are set, and the campfires doused."

"Gorsini?"

"Doing well, the lad knows his business Captain I checked on him and he had his position well concealed. I saw him doing the rounds, checking sentries and whatnot. He might be a ginger, and a bloody Human to boot, but he's no fool for all that."

"Scouts?"

"Azure has gone out and taken Dana and Lily with her. I suspect its more for training and practice than anything else, but I'll speak to her when she gets back to see if there are any issues need attention."

"Good enough, anything else?"

"No, I'll take a turn and sit with Muriah a spell before turning in."

Ashunara grinned, "You're going to tell her about when you had me running about like poltroon for brawling with that bloody woman from the Border Legion aren't you?"

"Me Captain? Why, I'd not dare, oh no piggy wiggy, the thought never crossed my mind."

"Get thee hence you lying tart, and mind and get some sleep yourself. I'll see you come morning."

"Sleep? Isn't that what officers do while the rest of us wor-"

"You are an officer you buffoon."

Nyx grinned, "And there you go, spoiling everything, bloody typical."

...

Ashunara stirred, her hand drifted slowly to the stiletto concealed under the rolled-up blanket she had used as a pillow even as she dismissed the beguiling warmth of sleep from her mind, and oh so carefully opened her eyes.

Azure's unblinking gaze regarded her from where she stood, just beyond reach, on the other side of the tent.

"For fucks sake! Why do I even bother having a sentry?"

The scout smiled merrily, "You are improving Captain, I could get no closer than this without waking you."

The Captain sat up and peered about until Azure passed her the flask from the map table, "This is some petty revenge for how that blonde wench caught you out isn't it?"

"She's a supernatural creature Captain, I'm sure of it. T'was an unfair contest."

"A complaint?"

"More like a challenge I think."

Ashunara grinned with mischief, "Figured it out yet?"

The scout blinked, "You know, don't you?"

The grin turned to a feral smile, and her voice was almost playful, "Maybe."

"Oh, please Captain, you must tell me."

"Must I now? And how would you repay me for such a morsel?"

In a languid move that made her hips sway and the Captain's heart beat all the faster the scout moved closer, and her voice was soft and low, "What do you want?"

"Fuck..."

Azure chuckled and gently ran her fingers through the unbound tresses of the woman's silver hair, "I think Lashelle would disapprove, but..."

With a laugh Ashunara held up her hands helplessly, "Fine! I am well rebuked for my jibe, you damnable temptress."

The scout sighed wistfully, "Pity, perhaps one day."

"Perhaps, now, what did you learn?"

Stepping back and becoming all business again Azure nodded, "T'is as you suspected, the column is being stealthily watched."

"Drow?"

"I should think so, given the artful beguilement's and glamours they used to conceal themselves."

The Captain rubbed her nose, "it was not so hard to predict they would have spies, we've been gathering the banners for more than a week, so they had plenty of time to place themselves. Can you find them?"

Azure considered a while and nodded, "it's not a job for Lily or Dana, they have not the skill as yet."

"Then take Adair, I suspect she can be stealthy enough at need, and I can imagine her presence would lend weight to any altercation."

"Your instructions."

Ashunara grinned, "Kill them all."

Azure smiled and turned to go.

"Um, just a moment?"

"Yes, Captain?"

"Did I spy you chatting to Nyx earlier?"

"We exchanged a few words."

"Did Muriah's latest exploit feature in this discussion perchance?"

The scout's expression simply vanished, "Mayhap..."

Ashunara groaned, "Do I even want to know?"

"Probably not."

"Very well then, carry on, just... don't do anything I wouldn't."

Azure was still laughing when Adair looked up at her from her small fire.

...

Between the lands of the Fae and the Human kingdoms stood The Veil, a mist-like shroud of aether that hung like some swirling curtain and separated the realms. The army that made its approach was Human, long columns of horse, pike and spear, garbed in crimson and bearing scarlet banners they advanced. Flanked by archers and skirmishers, with a vanguard of armoured knights in full chain, mounted upon heavy destriers that were themselves burdened by thick barding.

Lord Marshal Fionn looked upon his host and smiled grimly before turning to his Seneschal, "Quite the sight is it not Chulainn?"

The old knight sighed in response and hefted his spear across the saddle of his mount as he replied, "As you say Marshal, a sight."

The old warrior's face might once have been called handsome but was now lined, and his long red hair was frosted with silver, but even so his grey eyes still held an icy gleam capable of instilling fear in doughty fighters half his age. His armour was of brigandine and bore the scars of battles unnumbered. His bare forearms were marked with pagan tattoos of woad and the kilt he wore bore the tartan of some forgotten clan from northern Alba. The Lord Marshal thought the hairy pony he had chosen for a mount looked to be the ugliest and most intemperate beast he had ever laid eyes upon.

It suited him.

Fionn sniffed, "You care not for my host then? Does it not inspire?

The man growled, "I'm here to repay an old debt, otherwise I would have no part in this fucking madness."

The Lord Marshal frowned, "I find your lack of faith less than pleasing old man. Summon the Magister."

Chulainn spat and growled his reply, "Summon him yourself, my honour compels me to kill for you, but I'm not your fucking lackey."

The Huscarls surrounding the Marshal bridled at the disrespectful tone and more than a few rested the hands upon the hilts of their blades.

If their intent was to intimidate, the man's snort of amused contempt made clear their failure.

"I am here Lord Marshal."

The sibilant voice emanated from a tall figure garbed in robes and wearing a hauberk of leather scales. casting a wary sidelong glance at the old warrior he moved to stand alongside his Lord, "How may I serve?"

Fionn nodded to the figure, "Greeting Magus, we draw close to The Veil, how fares your sorcery? Are you prepared?"

The tall man bowed, "Indeed I am, we have prisoners enough with Fae blood. By means of their sacrifice and vitae I can create a path through the mist to allow us to reach The Eldrich Realm unmolested."

"And you are certain the Dark Eldar are already beset and engaged in some strife that will divide their forces?"

"Oh, indeed I am my Lord, indeed I am. All the auguries, the signs and the portents are clear on this matter. If we strike now, and strike hard, they shall be hard pressed to respond."

"Good, then we shall advance and trust that..."

Chulainn pointed his silver spear off to the distance, "What lies yonder."

The wizard gritted his teeth as he responded, "Nothing of import, t'is a narrow valley, and little lies along that route save mouldering stones and old barrows."

The warrior grunted before turning to the Marshal, "Fionn, regardless of what this creature promises, should a force emerge from that vale it will get in behind us and there'll be Hell to pay. It should be scouted."

The Dragon who had taken the form of the murdered magister clenched his fists and biting back the desire to scorch the man to ash he smiled instead, "These are the concerns of an old warrior, perhaps grown timid in his dotage, courageous though he once was. I have scryed the area with my magicks and my familiars have scouted well enough. there is nothing worthy of note along that old path, and certainly nothing to fear my Lord."

Fionn glared at the Magister as the suggested barb pricked at his pride, "I do not fear, wizard! Leave us and be about your business. Ensure all is ready for when we reach the mists."

Dismissed, the creature genuflected and moved away. Turning back to his companion the Marshal failed to note the yellow gleam of malice in the thing's eyes.

Chulainn watched the Magus retreat and spat, "That man is a serpent. I would not place my trust in him."

"He serves his purpose, as do you."

The warrior sniffed, "As you say. What then of yonder valley? I mislike the idea of leaving such an unknown to our rear."

Fionn made a sound of exasperation, "Oh, go if you must! Take a company and investigate to your hearts content Chulainn. Mayhap in poring under enough rocks and the like you might find your courage again hidden beneath one."

The old warrior slowly turned his icy gaze upon the man and smiled, "Have a care Lord Marshal, for I have never been known as a tolerant fellow."

The words were spoken in an almost conversational tone, but they were devoid of any warmth, or fear, or even anger, and the smile did not reach his eyes.

Fionn looked into that cold unblinking gaze and shivered, "Spare me your veiled threats old man, if you are going to go, then go."

...

The Drow watched the column of Dark Elves from their hiding place, concealed as they were by glamours and magic. One counted and relayed details to his companion who made careful note of the information, while a third stood watch. He smiled as he observed the placement and indolence of their sentries and sneered, "Fools, we could assassinate half of their leaders in a single night. We shall reap a red harvest come time."

Silence was his only reply.

Looking round he found himself alone.

"What?"

He peered to and fro, but of his companions there was no sign.

Listening to the silence he found that suddenly the darkness and gloom were far less of a comfort than he had first thought.

As he licked his lips and pondered, the shadows behind him shifted.

He never saw the blade that killed him.

...

Dullahan strode back to her tent and snatched up her bow and the quiver of barbed arrows that went with it. Outside the howling of her hounds made her shiver in anticipation as their ravenous keening and slavering snarls reached her ears. By the time she had assembled her potions and venoms and donned a travelling cloak her Redcaps had gathered.

They were Firbolg once but now they were... more. Lean and athirst as the tales say, bestial and wild. Their savagery was legion, they could see in the dark better even than Drow and their skill at the hunt was a marvel to behold. Each was accompanied by a creature more Barghest than dire wolf, a howling monster standing taller than a man, with endless appetite and jaws that would put a lion to shame.

She eyed her hunters, and her hungry smile lit her red eyes, "Silence the pack!"

Her huntmaster hissed and instantly the hounds stilled in obedience to his command, drool dripping from leering jaws as they awaited the command, they knew would set them loose.

"We hunt Dark Elf."

Her words were answered by a low growling from her hunters and a mad shivering from the creatures poised at their sides.

The woman took in their savage demeanour and was satisfied, with a nod she whispered, "Cry havoc," and loped off into the dark.

Silent as wraiths her pack followed.

...

"How many?"

"A dozen, there will have been more."

Ashunara made a disgusted noise and turned to Nyx, "There is no alternative, I needs must make a report of this to our Captain of Scouts, summon Muriah."

"She was training at spear earlier and is at her breakfast. If you like I can ask one of the others to go in her stead."

The Captain shook her head with a sigh of resignation, "No, I do that, and we basically tell her we don't trust her anymore. I dislike the idea of sending her back there knowing that bitch will mock her but to do otherwise would hurt the girl, and undo some of the work we've put into her. T'is the least bad of a shit choice."

"I can send someone with her?"

Ashunara nodded, "If you can come up with some reasonable pretext then that might work, mayhap there is some overlooked supply we need from the quartermaster, given we have so many new folk requiring gear? But either way, I must send a damned dispatch."

Glancing at Azure the Captain noticed she was fidgeting somewhat and tilted her head to regard the woman more closely, "Azure? Is there aught the matter?"

The scout seemed to blush slightly, "Well, um, you see, there may not be as much urgency as one would think in sending your dispatch."

"Oh?"

The tips of the womans ears turned a delightful shade of blue as she blushed further, "I, uh, have it on good authority that Captain Barissa is not presently, um, in the camp, as it were."

Nyx frowned, "What the Hell are you talking about?"

"Ah, you see Adair and I, well, we had a little time, and our patrol took us close to the main encampment so, we, um..."

Ashunara groaned, "What the fuck did you two lunatics do?"

...

It was the sting of cold water that woke Captain Barissa of House Carne. She had the most ungodly headache and for a moment the rainwater on her face was almost pleasant. She was having some difficulty moving however, and it took her befuddled mind a moment or two to realise that she had been rolled up in a rug, a bearskin rug.

It was strange though, that she could see the rainclouds through the branches of the trees, one would have thought the canopy of her tent would have prohibited such a view.

She scratched her breast idly and peered about muggily at the brush surrounding her.

That's when it struck her, and she drew a horrified breath as the cobwebs cleared.

She was naked.

She was naked, rolled up in a rug, and had no fucking idea where she was.

...

Ashunara stared, "You put her where?"

"Um, about four miles in," she looked about before pointing vaguely, "that direction."

"But there are Drow out there."

Azure shrugged, "Not as many as there were."

...

Chulainn looked upon the ruins warily, "What place is this?"

One of the warriors who had accompanied him grunted, "Morrigan's Stone, they call it, t'is haunted they say."

Moving his pony down the track he studied the pillars before him, it had the look of some ancient place with moss growing here and there upon the stones. Other than the cawing of the many crows nestling in the nearby trees all was silent, yet there was a disquieting sense about the place that was both watchful and eerie.

He dismounted and picketed his horse under the trees. The dozen warriors who had accompanied him did likewise before drawing swords and making their shields ready, and he caught a few of them casting sideways glances at him as they eyed each other uneasily.

He shook his head with a weary sigh.

Spear in hand he moved cautiously towards the ruins, and its silver blade glittered in the sunlight.

"You are far from home Chulainn."

Surprised by the voice he turned to see the crone sat upon the stone steps wrapped in her black shawl and eyeing the man curiously. He was stocky she thought, and his face was weather-beaten, but he was not so tall, nor so heavily built as some she had seen, still there was a rangy leanness about him that spoke of hidden strength while his balanced gait hinted at speed, and she nodded, "It has been a long time since I saw my last Hero, there are very few left in this world these days."

The man snorted dismissively, "I'm no Hero, the Gods do not bless me, I'm just an old warrior well past his prime is all."

She cackled, "Oh, you look like you could still manage a skirmish or two, and who am I to speak ill of someone for getting old. Time makes a mockery of us all in the end does it not," she pouted, "I was fair once you know, and look what the years have done to me."

He chuckled, "Oh, I think I still see a mischievous twinkle in those eyes' madam, and I doubt the years have dulled your wits. I imagine in your younger days you would have been quite the catch, and quite the handful."

She smiled merrily, "Oh, you have no idea."

He smiled and gave her a polite bow, "But, as I say, I am no Hero, I was just a little harder to kill than some is all."

"But not that hard."

The Magisters voice carried that same sibilant arrogance that had always set his teeth on edge, and he slithered out from under the trees like a smiling viper. As he approached the swordsmen warily moved to surround the old warrior.

Chulainn smiled again at the old woman and shook his head in resignation, "And here was me wondering if you would allow these poor fools to do the deed for you, or if you would have courage enough to come and plunge the blade yourself?"

As he spoke, he eyed the would-be assassins carefully and moved to give himself room as he casually rotated the spear in his hand.

The Magister smirked, "Here I stand, Hero."

"Why?"

"Why do I stand here? Simple enough, I do not fear you in the least. Why kill you? Because you are too shrewd, too canny and cautious for my tastes. You would attempt to dissuade that fanatical clown that attacking The Fae is unwise, and my Master would have it happen."

"So, it was all lies then?"

The creature chuckled, "Oh no, I spoke no falsehood. The Dark Elves have indeed fallen under attack, and I can indeed pierce The Veil as promised. Even so their frontier is still well guarded, but this attack, even if it fails, will pin their best troops on the border, leaving my Master a path to reduce their Capital city. The Dark Elves were ever the most troublesome of creatures, full of mischief and spite. With them finally gone The Fae will fall quickly enough."

Chulainn nodded thoughtfully, "And from there the Human lands would be next I imagine."

"Indeed, but do not fret, you still have a part to play, for I am certain the woeful tale of your cowardly murder at the hands of the Dark Eldar will provoke this so-called Lord Marshal to avenge you," he grinned, "a thought to warm your heart as we send you on your way."

The warrior pointed his spear at the crone, "Leave her out of it at least. She is no threat to you and there is little glory to be had in the murder of an old woman."

The Magister threw back his head and laughed, "I do not relate my Master's plan in order to leave an inconvenient witness to the tale. She dies. But if it makes you feel better old wolf you can fight for her, perhaps pretend that she is a damsel in distress and you have come to her rescue, as you would in the days of your youth."

To his dismay and shame, Chulainn saw the old woman had cast her veil over her face and from the shaking of her shoulders she may have been weeping. "I'll do my best lass; they'll not have the killing of you while I yet draw breath."

Lifting his chin, he growled at the swordsmen as they moved in and his words were hard, "Have at it then cowards, let's see if a pack of rabid dogs can pull down a wolf."

They advanced and he surprised them by uttering a wild war-cry and meeting them head on. His spear glittered in the sunlight as he brought it round in a vicious arc and the silver blade clove through a wooden shield like paper shearing off the startled man's arm at a stroke.

Weaving aside from a sword thrust he deftly spitted a second swordsman in the belly before twisting the spear and opening the man up like a burst haggis. With a wild laugh he crashed through his attackers. Blades clattered and sparked against his armour, and he took a cut to his arm, but he only fought the harder, breaking through the circle of swords. Spinning he hurled a hand-axe that took a man in the face before he lowered his spear again and punched it into the groin of the nearest attacker.