The Tattooed Woman Pt. 29

After getting her settled Elsadore bade Hildegard a good night, and with a jaunty wave and a wink she ambled off back towards the revelry and laughter that could still be heard emanating from the direction of the common room.

Closing the door with a sigh Hildegard turned back to the bed only to see Ashunara sitting there bright eyed and awake, with a broad smile on her face, "Hello."

"I thought you were drunk!"

"Oh, I am, just not that drunk. I'm not so foolish I would enter a dinking contest with Nyx! The bloody woman has hollow legs and can drink me under the table any day of the week, so I sleekitly poured half of my libations into a convenient plant-pot. Pretty sure Adair spotted me, but she kept quiet about it."

Eyeing the Dark Elf in her bed the human favoured her with a coy and sultry look as she playfully sidled closer, "Oh? And what provoked this nefarious act of deception."

Ashunara's smile grew even broader as she held her hand out towards the woman, "You think I'd risk missing such a night with you. I'm daft, but I'm not mad."

Hildegard giggled as she slipped off the nightdress and slid nimbly under the covers, "Good answer."

The day after Ashunara and her Company had left was a sad one for Hildegard and she'd retreated to her chambers within House Varro to be alone with her thoughts. The servant Abria had brought her meals and spoken kindly to her, and in truth she had been grateful of the company. But despite being coaxed to sit in the garden awhile her mood had remained dour and thus she had retired early. Still, sleep was a long time coming.

For a goodly portion of the night Hildegard had tossed and turned, and so she was ill-rested when a servant had summoned her to breakfast in the morning. Even with the servant's help she had hardly bathed and dressed when she all but stumbled into the dining room. Her long auburn hair was still unbrushed and her voice near petulant as she tugged at the girdle around her waist, "Lady Aventine, must I continually wear these ridiculous gowns? They're pretty enough but I swear there are so many corsets, stays and garters it takes me about an hour just to put my knickers on... oh shit."

Matriarch Aventine smiled serenely from the head of the table and calmly gestured to her guests. Standing behind her and to one side the severe figure of Matron Livia pursed her lips and shook her head with a sigh.

"Ah, Hildegard, I'm so glad you and your knickers could join us."

Aventine barely suppressed a giggle at the woman's blush and sheepish apology, "Sorry."

The two Dark Elves who had risen politely as she entered the room regarded her intently and once again Hildegard was taken by the unblinking stares and predatory aspect of the women. They were tall and slender, lithe and silver haired as all Dark Elves appeared to be, with aquiline features and arched brows. Being Elfkind it was nigh impossible to accurately judge their ages, but they appeared younger than the Matriarch at least. They were dressed in dark trous and finely made cotte intricately embroidered with silver red and golden silk, and they both carried poignards with engraved hilts tucked into the sash-like belts around their waists.

Both were studying her curiously enough, though one at least was smiling with what looked like genuine humour at her flummoxed state.

Aventine nodded towards them, "Allow me to introduce Mistress Selene and her companion Sala, both noble maidens of House Ral. Ladies this is my handmaiden, Hildegard, recently of the Human realms."

The Dark Elves nodded politely to her and at least they did not laugh as she made an attempt to curtsy in the manner that Matron Livia had spent an afternoon drumming into her.

At the Matriarch's gesture Hildegard took her place at her side and servants bustled about serving a light breakfast and cups of chai that the human gratefully sipped. The strong flavour of the hot beverage helped clear the cobwebs and she listened intently as Aventine addressed her, "House business distracts me for the moment Hildegard, and I would not see you neglected, so Mistress Selene has graciously agreed to act in my stead. She is to be your mentor for a few days for I have tasks in mind for you and would not see you sitting idle, for there is much to be done."

Hildegards brows narrowed suspiciously as she listened, "Um, what is it you would have me do?"

Aventine smiled, "Oh, quite a few things, but first we must deal with your complaints I think."

"I wasn't complaining as such, but these gowns are..."

"Less than practical?"

The Human blushed, "Well, yes, and hardly what I'm used to."

The Dark Elf identified to her as Sala smiled, "You do look charming though."

"Thank you but in truth I feel a bit like a silk purse made from a sow's ear."

Sala giggled, "Better that than the reverse, but would you feel more at ease in some less restraining garb perchance?"

"Gods yes! At least that way I might even dress myself in under an hour."

The Matriarch nodded, "Then I suggest that be your first port of call, I'm sure Selene and Sala can guide you in the acquiring of suitable daywear. Also, you shall need a lady's blade."

"A what?"

Selene sniffed, "Dark Elves would be ashamed to be caught unarmed, we are somewhat um..."

Aventine grinned, "Violent?"

"Yes, sadly true, we are prideful and intolerant of insults and slights," her eyes narrowed, "can you use a blade at all?"

The Human shook her head, "I carried one while I was a working lass, but I've no real skill as such."

Sala tilted her head curiously, "And did you ever have reason to use it?"

"Once or twice, when rough men and the like thought to impose themselves."

Selene gave her a wolfish smile, "Good enough. I know a place where decent steel can be had. We can see to improving your proficiency in time."

Aventine nodded, "Splendid. Once suitably dressed and armed I wish you to acquire a bodyguard. I suggest the purchase of a well skilled arena-slave, but Selene shall be your guide in this."

Hildegard stared, "A bodyguard? Why would I have need of such a praetorian?"

Selene answered, "You are handmaiden to a noble House, and as such you represent the wealth and status of that House. At times you might even speak with a Matriarchs voice, but you are not kin. Acting directly against a Matriarch risks war and bloody retribution, but should a cunning foe manoeuvre you, as her servant, into some unintended slight they can claim insult and challenge. In such a case you needs must answer, or risk embarrassment to House and reputation. As naive and unskilled in our ways as you are you would be seen as easy prey by my peers. A bodyguard can fight in your place as champion, and so it behoves you to acquire one in the interim, the deadlier the better."

"I'm in danger then?"

Aventine chuckled, "You are among Dark Elves Hildegard, we are always in danger. But this is not the most important task I have in mind for you this day."

"Oh?"

"Indeed, tell me, do you recall Centurion Garok-Kral? He was a Dwarven fellow."

She nodded, "I do, it was at the ruins on our way here," the memories of that bloody day flooded back, and she shivered, "there was a battle, it was terrible."

"Yes, he and Ashunara were obliged to combine forces when they fell under attack. In her account Ashunara informed me that the Dwarves were originally seeking to rescue some kin from captivity, and also that after the battle you and your companion Roseanne gave unbidden succour to the Dwarves. Is this so?"

"Well, they'd received injury in our defence, I wouldn't have been right to leave them to suffer. Did I... did I do wrong?"

The Matriarch shook her head, "No, not at all, though you should know that as you were enslaved at that time other Mistresses might have punished you for impudence in taking it upon yourself to act so."

Hildegard flushed, "Impudence! Some of the poor bastards were mauled! Fuc- er, that is, they, um, deserved what help I could give them. I didn't think I was doing a disservice to Ashunara, and I wouldn't have cared anyway."

Aventine bit her lip to avoid laughing at the woman's indignation, "I'm not saying you deserved such a rebuke girl."

"Sorry... But, well, you know."

"We Dark Elves do have a reputation I suppose. But tell me, did the Centurion offer you payment at all?"

"No, and I certainly didn't ask any."

Aventine sat back in her chair and her eyes gleamed, "Good. I want you to go and see him."

"To ask for payment?"

"In a manner of speaking I suppose but more aptly put I hope you might capitalise on any favourable sentiment he may feel towards you. For while Dwarves are a prickly and militant bunch, and prone to violence when their honour is slighted, they never forget a debt. Their soldiery is renowned for its rock-hard discipline and on the battlefield a phalanx of Dwarven infantry is not unlike an immovable object. But they are a deeply suspicious folk, and they view Dark Elves most unfavourably at best, thinking us a cabal of devious witches," she grinned, "which might not be an entirely unjustified position to hold to be fair."

"So, what is it you want me to ask him?"

"T'is simple enough, I want you to convince him to take his Company to Miosgan Meadhba where they will almost certainly get killed."

"What?!"

Aventine sighed, "Because of your selflessness in treating his soldiers he may not think entirely unkindly of you, while should I or any of my ilk make such an approach, he would dismiss it out of hand."

"You say he'd be killed though?"

"Probably, his men are heavy infantry, and if the walls fall there would be no withdrawal for him or his Company and they would die at arms."

"Then why would he go? Do you want me to hire him or somesuch?"

"No! Absolutely not, you must convince him to do this of his own volition, otherwise the cost of his death would fall upon this House."

"I don't understand."

Aventine pursed her lips, "It is part of the cold calculus of war that the more Dwarves that die in defence of Miosgan Meadhba the greater the chance the Dwarven clans will march. They already teeter and it would not take much to provoke them to take up arms. I don't particularly want this Dwarf to be killed as such, but should he die in defence of that city his kin and clan will certainly seek blood-vengeance on those that caused his death, and the other clans would likely follow soon enough."

"But why would he go?"

She enumerated her reasoning, "Well, he is a soldier and commands his own Free Company, other Dwarves, though few in number, already stand in defence of the city, and it looks to be a great battle, he fought alongside Ashunara once and she marches there, further you aided him and you're the one making the suggestion. Also, you can tell him that in honour of the aid he gave my sister, House Varro makes efforts to see his stolen kin returned from the Humans. I think if you pitch it just so his pride will draw him into the fight quickly enough."

Hildegard frowned, "It seems a vile thing to try and manoeuvre him into a war like this."

Across the table Selene bristled but Aventine held up a hand to still her before replying, "You are entirely correct, it is exactly so. A vile and selfish act that will see many Dwarves killed in a war they might otherwise avoid, though in truth I suspect it would come upon them soon enough either way. But Hildegard, my sister marches to battle, and I will be utterly damned before I let such petty morality stand between me and gaining what allies I can for her. But I will not command you to do this thing, you must make your own choice."

"You are manipulating me, using my feelings for her to your advantage."

"Quite so."

"Damn you..."

The Matriarch smiled and gently took the woman's hand into her own, "I suspect you are too late in that regard Hildegard," she nodded, and her voice was firm, "I shall expect your update by days end."

...

The arrow thudded into the scout's throat with a sodden thud of impact, and she keeled over even before the look of pained surprise could fully manifest itself. The Orc to her side staggered as two more arrows and a hurled pilum thumped into his chest. The creature looked in dazed amazement at the black flights of the arrows deeply embedded in his torso. A third arrow hammered home and he crumpled.

The salvo of missiles had taken the scouting party completely unawares and almost a third of their number were instantly felled. Even as they reeled Dullahan and her pack burst from their hiding places and with wild cries they charged.

She had seen the scouting party from the besieged city moving across her line of march, and the decision to blood her pack early had been an easy one.

The Dark Elves and their Orcish allies made an effort to regroup and pull back, but the hounds were far faster, and raced along the flanks of the party, cutting them off from any retreat before wheeling in to attack the Company from the sides and rear while the charging Firbolg smashed head-first into them.

Dullahan gave a mad laugh as she ducked under the swinging battle axe of an Orc warrior and slashed her blade neatly across his throat. He gurgled his last breath as his blood spurted from the wicked slice, but she had already danced away. Rolling forward she came up beside a Dark Elven swordswoman and leaping high she drove her sword down and through the neck joint of her mail, plunging the weapon deep into the woman's body.

Smiling sweetly, she allowed the corpse to flop at her feet. Looking about she saw that most of her foes were already down, but one Orc had speared a hound through the ribs and in a baresark rage had split the skull of another with a battleaxe. With a snarl she charged the creature, ducking nimbly as he almost took her head off with a wild axe-swing. Her blade flicked out and sliced his hamstring as she sped past him.

She turned to give him a feral smile only to throw herself aside as he hurled a hatchet at her face. Even so it nicked her cheek and the Orc cackled and spat a gobbet of blood as he gestured for her to come at him. With a scream she obliged, charging in and slashing at the creature, matching her wild fury against his in a mad whirlwind of clashing axe and sword. He was the stronger, but she was by far the faster and more skilled, and when he staggered back, he saw he had been cut in a half dozen places while his opponent stood panting, but untouched.

The thing nodded as blood seeped from his wounds and he gave a grunting salute before hefting his axe again and attacking once more. This time Dullahan waited until the last moment before spinning aside and whipping her sword round in a blindingly quick arc. The heavy blade of the falcata cleaved through the thick corded muscle of the Orc's neck and the severed head rolled across the ground even as his corpse staggered forward a pace before collapsing.

Looking about she gestured to her Hunt Master and hissed, "Report!"

"The enemy are routed, massacred to the last save a few wounded who offer surrender. We lost a hunter and two hounds, a few others have taken minor wounds, nothing that will slow us."

"Good, peel the dead and hang their skins on the trees for all to see. We will make fear our weapon."

"Their wounded as well?"

"No, feed them to the hounds," she grinned, "do they not deserve a taste of fresh meat after a hard fight?"

He nodded and moved off, and soon after she listened to the high-pitched screams and the snarling of her pack. As a couple of her Firbolg approached she waved them off, "No, not that one. At least he had spirit. Give him his head back and leave him be."

...

Cassie sat on the bed and wept, and Ellén was in a near panic as she wrung her hands, "What is it? What did I do? I-I was jesting when I carried you off. Is it the flowers? Iris said to maybe buy you a gift and I thought you liked flowers. Please, Cassie, tell me what to do!"

The girl wailed all the harder and Ellén slumped. Her limited knowledge of Humans left her completely unable to find any words that might comfort the girl. Desperate and lost she flung her arms around her shoulders and pulled her close.

The girl sniffed, "It-it's not that Ellén, it's just so fucking unfair!"

"What is?"

"This! I don't want it!"

Ellén swallowed and recoiled backwards in horror, "Oh dear Gods! I'm so sorry! Truly, I-I didn't know, I thought you... that you... felt, something. I just... Oh no, no, no..."

Cassie took her hands in her own and looked up at the blue-eyed woman and smiled a broken smile, "I do, but it's not right. I just can't!"

Ellén almost whimpered, "I don't understand, Cassie, maybe it's people, I've no experience with them, please... help me."

"Adair told me she would command you to serve me, that you'd be like my slave or something. I begged her not to, I begged! But she said it was the only way to protect you from some great evil."

"T'is true, but..."

The younger woman buried her face in her hands and her shoulders shook, "Well, I can't do this, I won't! How could I ask anything of you knowing you're somehow magically compelled to obey. It's an utter betrayal and I'll have no part of it!"

"Oh."

Tears streamed down the girl's face and she sniffed, "I don't want a servant, or some bound slave, I want my friend back!"

"Um, Cassie?"

"What?!"

"She didn't."

"Huh?"

Ellén watched the gamut of emotions playing across the girl's face and shook her head with a forlorn smile, "We, um talked about it, and she told me what you'd said. Asked me what I wanted."

Cassie frowned as she wiped the tears from her eyes, "What?"

"Yes, she did eventually issue a command, but it wasn't to serve you."

"Who then?"

The blonde woman shrugged and reached out to again capture the young woman's hands in her own, "I'm not sure, for in the end she stared at me for a long time, and it was a most passing strange feeling, and her command was simply "To thine own self be true". She said she didn't know if it would offer any protection at all, but then she said it didn't matter because she had no idea if she had the power to compel me to do anything anyway."

"So-so you're not my slave?"

Ellén giggled, "Well, only if you want me to be."

"No!"

The woman chuckled as she lifted the girls' hands and kissed them, luxuriating in the thrill of feeling the girl trembling at her touch, "I don't know, I think I'd make an excellent slave. Do you disagree? Am I not comely enough for you?"

She leaned close and her whisper was almost a purr, "What kind of collar would you make me wear? Would it be silver and fair, or purest gold? Mhmm, I think I'd like that, after all what Dragon does not have a fondness for gold?"

"Are you teasing me?"

"Oh, absolutely."

Cassie paused and considered before looking up, "Wait, did you say you bought me flowers?"

...

The Grand Arena was a mighty pit surrounded by an amphitheatre of granite and stone decorated with statues of great heroes and terrifying monsters carved from polished obsidian and gleaming black marble. It had stood for centuries and gladiators beyond number had fought and shed their blood upon the sands before baying crowds of spectators. Sounds of training from the nearby ludus carried across the sand and Hildegard could almost feel the long years of bloody history that hung about the place.

Many of the gladiators were enslaved warriors and soldiers captured in raids. Some were bandits and violent criminals, and a few were professional fighters who despite having been indentured or even freed still chose the thrill of combat and the adulation of the mob over safety and liberty.

Hildegard felt more than a little strange as she regarded the awesome edifice around her. She was now garbed in a new short-sleeved tunica, over a silken blouse, leather trous and finely stitched calfskin boots. A dirk of best Dwarven steel was tucked into her belt. It had a heavy triangular blade more than a foot long with a handle of carved horn and a butt made from silver. The artisan swore it was crafted in the fashion of a fighting knife used by the wild tribesmen of the far north and that the blade could pierce even light mail. Hildegard had fancied a stiletto not unlike the one carried by Ashunara but Selene had dissuaded her claiming that such a blade required greater skill and would be less lethal in the hands of a novice.