The Umbral Messiah Pt. 10

They rounded the path and came up a switchback - and there, they saw an entrance leading directly into what appeared to be a fusion of a Chanti structure jutting from the side of the mountain and an orcish fortification. Two narrow bridges ran from where they stood, across a huge gulf that dropped straight into the water, and came to a circular platform of stone built beneath the entrance into the Chanti building, while more wooden bridges led out of doors that had either been found or had been cut into the Chanti stone, connecting to yet more wooden outbuildings - creating an inverted, hanging castle attached limpet like to the side of the volcano. Sari counted a dozen orc guards, most of them with bows and arrows, but several had spears.

It was still far too few to protect this kind of entrance. Charlotte had eyes for something else. "That building? That's where the Chanti Crystal goes. It's the adjoining control center for the volcanic control systems."

Sari rubbed her palm along her face, slowly. "Okay...we need to get inside..."

"Any ideas?" Zarua asked.

"Why are there only twelve guards here?" Charlotte asked, blinking as she refocused.

"Well, there's been a little civil war. A lot of the guards are dead or in jail," Zarua said. Her finger pointed out at a few narrow slit-windows that peered out on the lowest levels of the hanging structure - below the bridges. "They're going to be right in there."

Sari nodded, then held up her hand. "I have an idea. If we can get those guards free, we can-"

"They won't have any gear," Zarua murmured.

"Well, maybe-"

"Maybe."

The sudden fourth voice caused each of the girls to start and spin around.

"Maybe," Raj, Zarua's mother, said as she loomed behind them, glaring down at the two humans and her daughter, her hands on her hips, her lips pursed, her eyes narrowed. "Maybe you can explain what the three of you are doing here, talking about committing treason against our new King?"

"Well-" Sari stammered.

"Mom!" Zarua hissed.

"How did-" Charlotte started.

Raj burst out laughing - a booming laugh that echoed off the walls of the cliff and made Sari's heart race. She jerked her head back and she saw that several of the guards were looking curiously over at where the four of them were hiding, but before she could do anything, Raj swept her arm around her shoulder, drawing her in close, grinning. "I didn't know that you were some human warrior! You cute little thing!" she said, knuckling against Sari's cheek gently. "And you want to topple our mad would be King? I want in! This is exactly the kind of madness that the Battle Mothers live for."

"Mom!" Zarua squeaked, her eyes bulging.

"Now, I know exactly how to get each of you in. We're just going to need some rope," Raj said. "If you hide here, I can go grab some..."

"Oh, I can make rope!" Sari said.

Rana, who had been watching this all with a huge smile, let out a snicker.

Raj's eyes gleamed.

Sari's face fell.

***

If Sari could, she might have said something like I regret agreeing to this. Or maybe whoa whoa whoa! To whoever she was bumping against ahead of her. But she couldn't. Because she had a large, thick, red ball gag jammed between her lips and tied off around her head, while a leather blindfold slipped over her eyes. Her arms had been tied behind her back and her throat had been collared, with a rope tied to the collar and looped into another collar - the collar of Charlotte - and then looped around the wrist of Raj, who sometimes provided such helpful guidance as friendly slaps to the ass and laughter.

It would have been utterly humiliating even if Sari hadn't been buck naked.

As it was...

"Dragons above, you are so fucking hard," Rana purred, softly. "And Charlotte is like a walking waterfall back here."

Sari let out a muffled growl through her gag - a growl that produced a playful swat against her bare, wind caressed bottom by a laughing Raj.

"Whoa, Raj! What the...hell are..." A voice spoke out; male and sounding increasingly shocked as his sentence wandered off a cliff. Raj let out another one of her booming laughs.

"I captured these two lovelies skulking around - human sneaks and spies," she said, cheerfully. "And so, I got them all prepared, just as King Trjokar likes."

In this case, that meant nude, bound, gagged and blindfolded.

"One of them has a dick," another male voice grumbled.

"She's a Rebis girl, don't be a moron," Raj said, sounding faintly annoyed. "Or else I'll cut your dick off."

"Just saying," the male with an issue with Rebis girls said.

"Shut up, Orok," the first male said. "Damn, can we mount them right here and now?" He sounded like he was either oggling Charlotte or found Rebis girls a special allure. The words mount them rang in Sari's mind and she wriggled slightly - not sure if she was going to break her restraints or keep up the playacting. Raj had assured her that she had tied the wrist binds off just so that they would look impressive, but not actually restrain anyone. She felt the leering eyes of the orcish guards on her body as she shuffled forward, led ahead by Raj.

They stepped into something cool, without the sun directly beating down on their bodies anymore.

They stepped, Sari knew, into the castle of King Trjokar.

She heard more wolf whistles. More laughing jeers. Then murmuring voices. They grew louder and louder and Raj leaned forward, whispering to her. "Baby girl, we're almost in the council halls. Sounds like a lot of the white beards are in here for a debate." Her hand squeezed Sari's ass and, from Charlotte's little squeak (muffled as it was) she was clearly getting her chance to squeeze Charlotte's peachy ass.

"...my king, my loyal sire," a voice was speaking. "How can you believe this necromancer and their lies?"

"The Corpse King?" A drawling, rough voice rumbled ahead of them. Trjokar sounded like a tough, powerful male. From Rana's eager, lustful purr and a soft whisper of oh no he's hot, Sari supposed that he had other qualities. She shook her head a bit, her gag muffling her attempt to tell Rana to keep it in her pants. But then Trjokar continued. "Her reach is mightier than you know. She has sent envoys to me, and alerted me to the Prophecy she stands again. The Umbral Messiah..."

Murmurs and whispers.

"The Umbral Messiah: A child of uncertain parentage who has traveled twice bearing arts of magic and war too, will shattered the ancient boundaries laid by the Ninth Dragon and allow the void to enter all. The Void, the home of demons. They are the deepest enemies of Necromancers - Necromancers use the void to sustain. To preserve. To maintain-"

"To maintain the bodies of corpses!" A fierce voice spoke out, causing faint gasps. Sari bucked her head, wishing she could see through the damn blindfold she was strapped in. Rana whispered in her ear.

"A brash young orc warrior. Looks to be one of the loyalists who has bent the knee, if the look in his eyes has anything to go by."

"Tennish, Tennish, Tennish," Trjokar said. "Your passion is a strength. That passion of our race is what brings us all strength. It is why we orcs must remain pure, you know?" His voice was shifting - he was standing, walking. Sari could imagine him - and Rana's muttered voice provided a sketch: He's a pontificating bastard, making him less and less hot by the second. "But Necromancers see death and life as two sides of the same coin. Or, rather, as something that seems to be a coin, till one picks it up and finds that death is a pillar, stretching infinitely into the earth. They wish to pull that pillar into the light, to allow that dead eternity to matter."

Soft murmuring. Lots of gray beards, stroking their chins, from Rana.

"The Corpse King wishes to prevent the Umbral Messiah from ever succeeding in his journey by using the Reliquary of this island to seal the Demon Lord forever beyond this world," Trjokar said. "Queen Arketesh refused him, in her foolishness."

"Why?" Tennish sounded as if he was clinging to his self assurance.

"Because she is a fool and a weakling," Trjokar snapped - but it was clear he was irritated at Tennish's needling. "Did you swear fealty to me to just nettle at my strengths, Tennish-Child?"

Tennish snorted. "This is the service I provided to Queen Arketesh. She preferred honesty to honeyed words."

Trjokar's good humor had eroded faster than a sandcastle. "Guards. Kill him."

The sudden crunch of metal on flesh made Sari wince - and the gasps of shock from the other orcs rang out. Tennish made a gurgling noise, and then more crunches sounded as he was brutally hacked down. Raj growled softly, while Rana whispered in Sari's ear. "The orcs look an even mix of afraid and furious. I think Trjokar overestimates what his rule through fear bullshit accomplishes."

Sari knew what she had to do.

She tugged her wrists free of their bindings. She reached up and - with more regret than she expected - tugged her gag out. Raj arched an eyebrow, while a few orcs glanced over at the movement, gasping in surprise. But Sari was already moving. She walked past several noblemen, pausing to only claps one of their massive iron swords. She wrenched it free from the sheath and then pointed the long blade out towards King Trjokar who, just as Rana had said, was actually quite attractive. He was a thirtysomething orc man, with brilliant blue-black skin, in a spotted mixed pattern that looked almost vibrant. He was muscular and barrel chested and reclined on a throne in a fancy loincloth and cape and frilled headdress, all of it proclaiming both his strength and his wealth.

"Trjokar!" Sari shouted, standing in the center of the council chambers, drawing every orc's eye twice, it seemed. The first time was pure shock. The second time was...

She heard a few soft whistles as she remembered that she was...well...

Completely naked.

She forced her blush down and capitalized in the shocked silence.

"I challenge you!" she shouted. "You have deposed the rightful Queen of Rauros. You have murdered and killed those who stood against you. You have reneged on the promise of your Queen to serve instead a woman who would see the whole world as nothing more than a pile of corpses under her eternal rule - and all because of your own petty, delusional madness. Now...you have to defend it." She spread her arms. "Or are you afraid to fight some simple Rebis girl. I won't even get armor."

Trjokar growled. "You stink of magic," he growled. "Magic and demon corruption. But they are one and the same, if you ask me." He stepped away from the throne, throwing his cape back, revealing he had his own sword. It, unlike hers, was a lot thinner and longer. She recognized it as steel. It didn't need to be made like a slab. Sari lowered the tip of her sword, letting it rest against the stone floor of the council room - which, she realized, was purely Chanti in construction. Her eyes widened as she realized that the massive, intricate wall that the throne was built against...

That was door. Almost identical to the door she had opened what felt like years before at the beginning of her quest.

Her vision snapped back to Trjokar, who was drawing his sword with a rasp. He twirled it in his hand, smirking.

"If you use magic to best me," he said, quietly. "Then all here will see that you are nothing but a cheat, a liar, and a corrupt whelp. You won't walk out of the chambers. But if you best me? Blade to blade?" He held up his steel sword, grinning wickedly at her - letting her see the difference in quality. "Then you may walk free and the crown will return to Arketesh."

The orcs in the crowd - who, as Rana had said, were all elderly and white bearded, dressed in robes of higher station - nodded and looked satisfied with this. Rana was actually chewing on her knuckles as she watched from the sidelines. Charlotte, either because she had forgotten she could undo her ties, or because Raj hadn't quite managed to make them trick knots like Sari's, was looking around in frustration, clearly trying to wriggle her blindfold off. Zarua, who had accompanied her mother with clear mortification writ large on her face, had her hands over her eyes, groaning.

"Well?" Trjokar barked.

"Deal," Sari said.

She lifted her sword.

***

In the hold of Lord Menelag's ship, One Eye had her one eye closed. Her head hung forward. But she did not sleep. Instead, she had found...she could get something almost as good. By relaxing every muscle in her body, the Void energy inside of her slowed. Ebbed. Became a trickle, that just barely buzzed through her mind. Her thoughts became unfocused. Indistinct. Almost confused. They jolted from memory to memory to concept to concept in the burbling half-awareness of near-dreams. She was able to meditate for hours upon the memory of being with Sari and her warmth. Her tongue slowly slid from her lips and she tasted the air.

Then.

One Eye's head jerked upwards. Her eyes widened and she snarled softly.

It was time.

It was time for her to do her mission.

She clenched her hands, readied herself, then flattened her palms. Then, with a sickening crunch she wrenched her hands through the restraints that were pinning her down. The straps and her bones met - and her bones lost, shattering, twisting, dislocating with series of pops and crackles. She swept her hands free, then spread her fingers with a wicked grin as void energies restored everything with a cartilaginous crunch.

With her hands free, her claws slashed the other restraints. Then she pressed her palms to the deck, then slid along her belly, moving from shadow to shadow. There were two guards who had been set to protect her - she even knew their names. Duncan and Shiloh. She loomed behind them as they stood at attention. Duncan whispered to Shiloh. "Did you-"

Her hands grabbed them by their helmets and crashed them together with a metal thunk. They collapsed to the ground, their helmets tumbling off their heads as they laid - breathing shallowly, their eyes closed. One Eye's claws dug into the wall, then she scrambled along the ceiling. There, she scuttled from the hold and onto the deck. The crew of the ship were at ease, waiting nervously for the return of the shore crew.

One Eye had but one job. One duty. One thing she had to do.

It burned through her.

She couldn't have resisted, even if she had wanted too.

And One Eye didn't want too. Not by a long shot.

She slithered, on her belly, towards the helm, where a man stood at bored attention, clearly sick of this needless duty.

One Eye stood behind him.

Grinning.

And she lifted a single clawed hand - bladed fingertips a glittering.

This was going to be fun.

TO BE CONTINUED