The Tattooed Woman Pt. 29

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The Tattooed Woman Volume 2 - Chapter 15: Now She Dreams of Flames

Ellén looked over the table at the buxom barmaid seated across from her and gestured with her spoon as she asked, "Tell me Iris, must I permit these ridiculous primates to touch my person and posterior as I serve their libations? I asked Cassie about it, and she told me to, "Crush their skulls like an egg," but I suspect this might be viewed as somewhat excessive."

They were seated in the scullery at lunch, eating soup and Narissa chuckled at the query, "Och, she's just a wee bit upset that both Adair and Captain Ashunara adamantly refused her pleas to accompany them on campaign. Hell, she hasn't spoken to me in days because I agreed with their ban, she'll get over it in time."

Iris nodded, "Maggie took some vittles to her room and doubtless spoke a few gentle words, she's just fearful is all, and thus testy. She means no ill by it," she sniffed, "has some buffoon been pawing at you Ellén?"

"Indeed, I confess it's not something I'm used to, but there are so many things I'm unfamiliar with when it comes to the habits of folk that I thought I would ask your advice."

"Huh, well, for myself it depends on whether they've rendered me a tip, and how overly familiar they have become."

"Tip?"

The barmaid stared at her incredulously, "Seriously? Yes, a tip. You know? An extra coin or two for your service, and your smiles. A bonny lass like yourself must have gotten a few tips even in the few days you've worked here?"

Ellén smiled happily at the compliment, "You think me fair then do you, and perhaps worthy of a... tip?"

The barmaid looked at the increasingly peculiar girl and took in her perfect figure, long fair hair and ridiculously brilliant blue eyes and shook her head in bewilderment, "You're jesting surely? You look like a damned Princess from a fairy tale."

The Dragon shook her head with a chuckle, "I'm no Princess, that would be Adair you're thinking on, and as for this body, why I simply fashioned it to appear as my mother I suppose, for what daughter does not want to emulate her dam?"

Taking in the strange looks she was being given Ellén hesitated, "Um, I mean I tried to copy her appearance if you, ah, know what I mean..."

Narissa looked up from her soup, "Wait, Adair is a Princess you say?"

"Well, her mother is a Queen after all, so I suppose she must be."

"You know her mother?"

Ellén looked down at her bowl and murmured, "We've not met as such."

Iris grinned, "Maybe one day, eh? Would that not be something, if a Queen came to eat here among us common folk Mistress Narissa?"

The Dark Elf nodded cheerfully, not noticing the look of horror that crossed Ellén's features as she imagined how such a terrifying event might unfurl.

Brutus, the burly ostiarius Narissa had only recently employed looked up as he tore off a chunk of fresh loaf and mopped his bowl. He was an imposing figure, with a fine horseshoe moustache, and wearing a rough leather tunic revealing heavily muscled arms that were thicker than her thighs, while the iron chain collar around his neck identified him as having been an arena slave. He grinned as he finished the food and reached for his ale with a chuckle, "Mayhap she'd leave a royal tip then Iris, and you could buy your freedom, eh?"

Narissa eyed the girl shrewdly at the comment and mused, "Would that be a thing you'd fancy then Iris?"

The barmaid sniffed and looked down at her bowl with a sigh, "What lass does not dream of freedom of one kind or another Mistress?"

She shook her head sadly, "But, t'is a dream is all, for in truth I would not know what to do with it if I had it. I've nowhere to go, and any kin I have left would not remember me even if I found them after so very long."

The Dark Elf nodded, "How long have you been among the Fae now?"

Iris chuckled, "Oh, thirty-odd years mayhap, t'is difficult to remember, for I was little more than a lass when I ran away, and the years can pass strangely here."

"And you never bought your freedom in that time? Were your Mistresses such miserly skinflints then that you had not the coin?"

The barmaid shrugged, "Some were, some weren't, you know how it is."

Narissa pursed her lips, "Oh aye? And how is it then?"

"Huh?"

"Well, Maggie says you were asking after me when I was abed. Was this some sentimental concern after my wellbeing that she saw Iris? For shame girl!"

Iris blushed and tried to fob it off, "Well, t'was nothing of the sort! I mean, it's just, you know, you've been decent to me is all. Even if you are..."

Narissa's grin was a mischievous one, "A Dark Elf, Dökkálfar, Dark Eldar, a Nightling Witch, She-Elf and a slaver to boot?"

"I'd never say such things!"

"And why not? T'is true enough," she grinned, "but for all that we're still friends are we not?"

Iris shook her head with a smile, "T'is cruel you are to be teasing me so Mistr-"

"Oh, stop that! My Name is Narissa as you bloody well know, you call me it often enough when you're in your cups. And you definitely shouted it out often enough that night when we..."

With a spectacular blush the barmaid interrupted hurriedly, "Ah, there's no call for you to be telling tales now is there!"

"Did I not offer you your freedom then?"

With a vulpine grin Iris sighed, "Oh, you offered me many things that night."

"So why didn't you take it?"

"I was drunk."

"Is that it?"

The barmaid muttered unintelligibly as she concentrated on her soup.

"Stop mumbling into your bowl, damn you."

"I SAID I DIDN'T WANT TO LEAVE!"

"Then don't."

"Huh?"

"You're loyal, and you have a good heart, that's something you can't buy, so take off the collar, keep the collar, I don't care, that's up to you, but you don't have to leave Iris. You can stay either way, for I'd not turn you away."

"Truly?"

Narissa gave the woman a wolfish smile, "I told you, we're friends, and mayhap this way I won't feel like I'm taking advantage the next time we're both drunk and I feel like taking advantage."

Ellén raised a finger for attention, "If you two are quite finished being so strange, my questions still remain unanswered."

"Huh? Oh, about lads touching your arse? Well, if it's all friendly like and they've left a tip I tend to laugh it off and perhaps flirt a bit. But if some jackass tries to put his hand up my skirt, which is a bloody liberty, or tries to maul my tits, which I fucking despise, then I usually slap his idiot face for him or upend a tankard of ale over their head. But if you feel unduly put upon, just give Brutus a wave and he'll sort them out right quick."

The big man nodded amiably and hefted his cudgel, "That's what we're here for girl. Give a shout and I'll bash them good for you, then we just go through their pockets and turf them out."

Narissa waved an admonishing finger, "None of that now, we'll not be robbing customers, well, not unless they're truly irritating, I suppose."

Brutus shrugged, "Ach, you'll be taking all the fun out of it, but even so," he turned to Ellén, "should anyone lay an unwanted hand upon ye just say the word and I'll tear it off and shove it up the miscreant's arse."

She nodded happily as she refilled his tankard for him, "Oh, that's very kind of you Brutus, but I would not want to be a bother, I could do that myself easily enough after all."

The man tipped back in his chain and bellowed a laugh at her apparent jest as he accepted the drink, "Well, mayhap you could at that, as fierce a wee thing as you are girl, but don't be doing me out of a job now, for I need the work, and I definitely need the coin."

She smiled shyly, "As long as you're sure t'is no trouble."

"Oh, none at all!"

Ellén drew a breath and blushing slightly she looked back at the barmaid, "Um, Iris?"

"Aye?"

"There is actually another question I would ask? One of a more pressing nature methinks."

"Oh? Do tell?

"It's something of a personal matter but..."

The barmaid chuckled, and eyed the woman speculatively, "Aw, you've not found a sweetheart have ye?"

"Well, in truth, I think I may have, and you being such an earthly creature I thought to ask your counsel?"

Iris frowned slightly, "Earthly creature?" Looking across at Narissa she mused, "Is she calling me an easy lay?"

The Dark Elf could not help but giggle at the womans aggrieved tone and nodded, "Pretty much, but you know Iris, if the shoe fits and all that?"

Ellén protested, "I meant no insult, truly, but its advice of that nature I am most desperate for. You see I thought to woo Cassie to my bed. Now I considered just carrying her off to my bower and having my way with her, but that seems to be not the done thing hereabouts, so I wondered if you could lend me advice on how to go about it?"

Narissa choked...

...

Chulainn gave a groan of discomfort as he sat down next to the old woman. He looked at the bloody corpses lying scattered about and sighed, "Sorry about the mess."

The woman chuckled, "Oh, do not concern yourself, it's surprising how often this sort of thing happens hereabouts," she turned to him, and he saw the mischievous twinkle in her dark eyes, "you know, I begin to suspect some unlucky spirit lingers about the place."

"Sounds perilous."

She snorted and waved her hand at the scene, "Well, it certainly was for them."

Producing a small clay pot from the folds of her black garb she proffered it to the man, "Here, smear this upon your wounds. It will bring you... comfort."

He sniffed at it and winced, "What's in it?"

With a laugh she shrugged, "Why, sugar and spice, and all things nice of course."

"It smells like shit."

"Well, mayhap its sugar and spice and shit then, I forget, but either way it should help with your hurts, but go easy with it, t'is potent stuff, even for a bold Hero like yourself."

"I told you already, I'm no Hero."

"Oh, and was it not you then that saved the Damsel of Strone from some Oilliphéist? I heard she had been left as a virginal offering to the beast by some wicked Lord?"

He chuckled, "She was the town harlot, and it was a giant eel. They threw her into the water hoping it would eat her and stop attacking their fishing boats."

"But you saved her did you not?"

"The bloody thing almost drowned me, for like a drunken fool I'd dived in wearing my armour."

The woman gave him a grin, "Even so I'd guess the girl was grateful for your efforts, harlot or no."

"Oh, she was, the Clan Chieftain whose idea it was to placate the beast less so. It led to a bit of a... stramash."

"What happened to him."

Chulainn gave her a look.

"Oh."

The woman pondered a little before smiling again, "Ah, but I heard you killed a Dragon yourself once."

He sniffed, "T'was a wyvern is all, I poisoned it using a freshly killed sheep for bait."

"So, you did not leap upon its back as it carried off a small child then?"

With a derisive laugh he snorted, "The stupid beast was so drugged by the poison it crashed into a croft and started flaying about like a mad thing. It would have killed the crofter's lad had I not intervened."

She nodded, "But what of Mauchlan the Half Troll? You slew him in single combat did you not?"

Looking down at his bloodstained hands he sighed, "Aye, him I did kill. The poor bastard had given into his Trollish blood and started eating folk. A tragic tale in truth for as a lad he was a gentle enough soul, just... cursed, is all."

The woman shook her head as she gazed off towards the mountains, "You seem intent on spoiling all my stories Chulainn," she smiled, "but I have to wonder."

"Wonder what?"

"Wonder what you would have said if they'd offered to let you go from here, asking for only the life of one old woman in exchange?"

Wiping the blood from his spear with piece of rag he gave her a wry grin, "I would have told them to eat shit, but that still doesn't make me a Hero,"

She chuckled, "As you say."

Scratching his head, he eyed the woman and frowned, "How is it you know so much about me? I do not hail from any place nearby."

"An old woman sometimes hears things Chulainn."

He shook his head thoughtfully and one hand idly played with the ends of his moustache as he considered the crone carefully, "You know, you remind me of another woman I know."

She cackled merrily, "A prodigious beauty no doubt?"

"Prodigiously fucking scary more like. She lives in a castle of shadows, on an island far to the north. It was her who taught me the ways of the spear. There is something about you that somehow brings her to mind."

The Morrigan nodded slowly, and her voice was oddly quiet, "I do not believe our paths have yet crossed, though there are some who would call us kin of sorts I suppose."

She sniffed and shook her head as if dismissing some dream from her mind and gestured towards the bodies, "I do not think your friends cared overmuch for you."

"They're no friends of mine."

"Hmm, yet you fight for their cause?"

The man sighed, "I killed the wrong man a while back, and so my honour demands I must serve his kin, for a while at least," he shrugged, "t'is a debt that I owe."

She nodded and gave a grunt of understanding, "I ken well what it's like to end up doing the wrong thing for the right reasons man," she sighed sadly, "I'll bear you no grudge for it."

"Then I must be off lady, will you be safe here?"

She smiled and for the briefest of moments he thought she seemed somehow taller and younger, "Lady, is it? Your speech is fair young Chulainn, I suspect that in your day you too would have been quite the catch," her eyes glittered, "and quite the handful."

He laughed, "You can thank my mother, she would have taken a belt to me if she'd caught me showing poor manners to a lass."

"She sounds a wise woman."

"That she was."

"Go in peace then," she turned to go but hesitated, "Chulainn?"

"Aye?"

"Have a care, lad, for if you go to The Fae then never again will you set foot in the lands of men."

He laughed, "A prophecy?"

She shrugged, "An old woman sometimes hears things."

"Well lass, they say that the coward dies a thousand deaths, but the valiant die but once, so if that is where my road leads, then that is where I must go."

Spying something on the ground the woman bent suddenly and picked up a feather that had fluttered to her feet. As if on a whim she held it out to him, "Here, have this to remember me by," she grinned, "who knows, mayhap it will bring you luck."

He eyed it, "A crow's feather?"

"Raven I should think," her eyes twinkled, "strange birds, you never know where you might find their nest."

He gave her a bemused look as he took the offering and bowed his head politely, "Take care lass, mayhap we shall meet again one day."

With a chuckle she moved back, and in her dark garb she was slowly lost to view among the shadows cast by the pillars, but her voice carried, "You never know."

...

Hildegard bumbled into the dining room where she had been summoned for breakfast.

The revelry of the feast held at the Raven's Nest by Captain Ashunara for her Company had become a thoroughly raucous affair with drink and food aplenty. Maggie had supervised the roasting of an entire pig in a firepit dug out back and there were fish, roast beef, glazed mutton, gamecock, steaks, racks of ribs as well as innumerable plates of bread, meat and mince pies, pastries and vegetables, followed by so many puddings and sweets that she thought she might actually explode if she so much as looked at another treat.

A river of beer, mead and spirits had been drunk and the dancing troupe and jugglers the Captain had engaged entertained all with smiles and capers. The musicians played merry tunes and there was dancing well into the night. A cheer was raised when after a dance Ellén was heard to announce, "Oh, bugger this," whereupon she simply hoisted Cassie over her shoulders and headed off towards her chamber. The girl was thoroughly tipsy, but her happy giggling as she was being carted off were certainly not the sounds of someone in distress.

Quintus had been entirely fascinated by the magician, a wizened Gnome character who produced live birds, silk ribbons and smoking and crackling incendiaries from his pockets and from secret folds in his costume, all by sleight of hand and without using even the tiniest bit of actual magic, or so the crafty fellow claimed.

Eventually though exhaustion had set in, and with feet aching and still breathless from the whirling dances of the cèilidh Hildegard had made her excuses and happily staggered off to the fine bedchamber that had been set aside for her at the inn, but serving as a good hostess the Captain was constrained to remain among her Company for a while longer.

It must have been a couple of hours later when she woke with a cry as her door was kicked open and a grinning Elsadore ambled in carrying a thoroughly intoxicated Dark Elf over her shoulder.

The sellsword laughed as she took in the startled woman, "Ho there Hildegard! See what I've brung you! Oh, that's a pretty nightdress! T'is all but see-through in the witchlight, you look most comely I must say,"

Somewhat gently she lowered her burden onto the bed and chuckled, "Alas, if you wore it for the good Captain however, then I'm afraid she may not be entirely fit to appreciate it right now, poor fool."

Hildegard looked down at the slumbering woman and shook her head, "What happened?"

"Oh, now I really shouldn't say," she grinned impishly, "but I will anyway. T'is all the fault of Nyx you see. She managed to lure her into a drinking contest with Adair, made a bet out of it. Truly not the wisest decision methinks, for that tattooed maniac drinks like a fish it seems, and as far as I can tell is still depressingly sober, but you know Ashunara! Silly cow doesn't know when to quit once she picks up a challenge. Anyway, I thought I'd fetch her to your chamber, and not leave her slumped in a chair in the common room, for who knows what prankish devilry and mischief those buggers out there would have done to her in this state."

The hardened mercenary looked down at her drunken charge and shook her head with a whimsical sigh as she softly ruffled the woman's silver hair, "Do you need help getting her to bed or will I leave you to it?"

Hildegard could not help but smile at the gentle behaviour in such a stalwart character, "Lend a hand with her boots and trous if you will and then I'll let you get back to your carousing, but you tell that Nyx for me that I'll be having words with her for infringing upon my plans for the night," she sighed theatrically and gestured at the drunk woman, "for I doubt she will be fit for the activities I had in mind."

Elsadore chuckled, "Well, more fool her then. If there was a lass as bonny as you waiting for me, I'd have stayed sober. But if it's any consolation, Adair is carting Nyx off to a bedchamber even as we speak, for she's just as drunk. The Captain only accepted the dare if Nyx took part as well, and thus she is also thoroughly shitfaced. Like as not Narissa will be looking after her and similarly complaining of ruined plans, for I saw her staggering off arm-in-arm with yon buxom lass who works here about an hour ago."

With a few struggles the two managed to strip the drunken Dark Elf down to her shirt. Occasionally during their fumbling Ashunara would giggle and mutter, "That tickles," or somesuch nonsense as she was undressed.

Elsadore rolled her eyes comically when the inebriated wench playfully wrapped her arms around her and wouldn't let go as she drunkenly babbled, "Elsie! You're so pretty..." before slumping over asleep and snoring happily.