War of the Races Ch. 29

Junovein nodded while Polymeira and Olianti contemplated the evidence and the assumptions. It was Polymeira who had something to add next, "If that is the case, and they indeed wanted to avoid us, then they would have left through the cut in the canvas and most likely headed straight into the woods."

"Olianti," Eydanth said, having recovered herself and feeling more confident, "Go and rouse the Guard of the Scarlet Shield. We will recover our mistress. If she is okay then our presence will be unappreciated, but understood. However, if we raise an alarm and bring the entire army and she is okay, we may be lucky if we are only publicly birched."

Olianti nodded as she fingered her neck and swallowed, but before she could dash away Polymeira added, "Catch up when you can, I think we should scout ahead."

Another nod, and then Olianti was gone.

"Junovein lead the way," Polymeira commanded as soon as Olianti was gone.

----(!)----

Gunngrul watched Olianti step out from General Aalyn Abendroth's tent and dash off at a dead run. He couldn't help the sinister grin that broke his ebony features. To be dashing off in such a hurry meant that Hayden had wasted no time in enacting his plan once he returned to camp. Which meant he had made his move against House Abendroth. Which would have been fine if they still had the backing and power of their own House, but now it was only a matter of time before their mother and sister came looking for vengeance.

If Hayden also assaulted the House of Abendroth then there wouldn't be anywhere for them to hide in all of Idavollr. Most likely, with the assassin sent to House Abendroth to kill the Matron and all of her kin, if successful or not, it was already too late. Without a House to back their claims of innocence in the face of no proof or circumstantial evidence, they were dead men. The laws were clear on murder.

Reaching inside his cloak pocket he traced the scrollwork and inscription on the hand mirror. A twin of its companion currently in House Faline, or worse, with his mother; he tried to shatter it against the desk in their tent upon returning to camp so no one could follow. However, the enchantment that empowered the ancient mirror also protected it. Uncertain what to do, he kept it until he could confer with his brother.

Stepping back into the trees he rushed away to rally the rest of their men in the camp. If Aalyn's guard knew of her disappearance, and Hayden was responsible, then he would need the full support of all their armsmen. It stood to reason that they might all need to run before Forelain arrived and exposed their treachery.

----(!)----

Following the trail of three naked women, one with a heavy burden, at night was not easy. If he had been in Idavollr Junovein had well practiced methods for hunting and foraging, practiced since he was a child. But out in the wilds under the blue sky now black, he had to constantly tamp down panic that kept making his belly a swirling pit of lava. The traces of his Lady's passage were hard to find, but they were there.

Polymeira and Eydanth spread out to each side of him and a few paces behind as they ghosted through the forest. From tree to tree while Junovein carefully searched for foot impressions, crushed grass, and turned or broken limbs. He was sure there were a million other signs he could be looking for but he just wasn't as knowledgeable about tracking in the wilds.

It was enough though. It wasn't more than an hour before the muffled sounds of laughter could be heard through the trees and underbrush over the moans of three women. Dawn had come and as Junovein crouched behind a bush nestled up against an old tree trunk, he saw Aalyn, Thurdain, and Illglan staked out on the ground.

"It's time men!" Hayden chortled as he stood up from between Aalyn's thighs, "I think they have had enough. We must return so that I can take command of the army, just as it should have been given to me in the first place."

Looking down a Aalyn he purred, "Now make sure you watch every moment my dear. I do so hope you enjoy it as much as I do."

Hayden's guardsmen laughed as they stood up and pulled up their britches and righted their shirts and tunics. They mulled about as they gathered their sword belts, and Junovein groaned, knowing he had missed his chance. The guardsmen drew their swords. Guttural moans and cries clawed at his ears as sword blades were drawn across bare thighs, down arms, or across ribs. Blood flowed freely from long gashes that exposed muscle and bone.

Aalyn watched with tears streaming down her cheeks, but she didn't cry.

The guardsmen's laughter quieted to a few chuckles but for the most part quiet determination settled over them as they focused on causing as much pain as possible without killing them until they were ready. Lacerations progressed to the men pressing the points of their swords into breasts, belly, and thighs until they slowly ran them through. They were careful not to stab any vital organs or sever arteries. Thurdain and Illglan screamed and gasped beneath the cruel torture until they begged to die.

"Let's end this men," Hayden chortled as he waved for two men to pull Aalyn up to her feet, "We must return to camp!"

Two other men took up two long stakes that had been carved to points and lowered them in between Thurdain and Illglan's thighs as Hayden turned to Aalyn and taunted her, "I wonder how far those stakes will go? Do you think the tips will come out of their mouths?"

When the first stake was pushed against Illglan's sex Junovein heard a pop of a crossbow and watched as the man pushing the stake into Illglan toppled over!

Another crossbow fired and then another!

Junovein looked down to find that his own crossbow was now empty before looking up to see one of the men holding Aalyn upright was now falling backwards. There seemed to be a shocked pause for all of a second, and then there was a flurry of movement and yelling and pointing as the Faline guardsmen started diving for cover. In the blink of an eye Polymeira, Eydanth, and Junovein charged from their hiding places, their mouths peeled back in silent, outraged roars with dual copeshes or scimitars in their hands as they cut down every Faline man they approached.

Three charged the remaining sixteen of twenty-one Faline guardsmen counting Hayden himself. Junovein didn't have time to worry about his companions, nor even his mistress, because despite their surprise it was still five to one against. His blades quickly became a flurry of parries as he danced around trying to keep Hayden and five others in front of him. If even one man got behind him he was a dead man!

In the confusion Aalyn was dropped to sprawl on the ground. Dazed and weak, she tried to roll out of the way of trampling boots but still received more than a few kicks. Every muscle in her body hurt. She had spent hours tied up in contortions that were almost impossible. But, if she wanted to live through this night. If she wanted her sisters to live through the night. Then, she had to move!

Looking over at her bloody, cut to ribbons, stabbed full of holes, nearly dead sisters, unadulterated rage filled her and gave her strength she didn't know she had left in her. Making it to the man that had held her up, laying face down on the forest floor, she pulled two long curved svartalf swords stylized and engraved with spiders along the crossguards out of his sheaths, and then stood up.

She hefted the swords in her hands, gauging their weight and balance, she struck the guards nearest her. Butterfly in the wind. Hummingbird dance. Spider jumping on a wasp's back. Twin pincers of a spider's bite. Aalyn was a whirling, tumbling, striking storm of feet and steel.

Three Faline guardsmen fell screaming to the ground before Hayden and his men facing Junovein realized they were being attacked from behind. Hayden cursed as he turned back towards Aalyn and set his feet to nimbly dance with her as steel rang out against steel. Hayden was nowhere near her match. He was no master of the sword as she was, and yet, she was sore and tired, and so, he was actually putting up a fair defense against her onslaught and even mounting a few attacks of his own.

Aalyn could feel her strength waning quickly. Adrenaline had boosted her and given her the power she needed to move and attack, but now, a prolonged engagement was quickly burning through her stamina. Her hands felt weak. With every attack and parry she felt like she was barely holding on to her swords. Her muscles felt jellified and wobbly. Her hips and buttocks burned, her sex was a fire of raw and tortured sensitivity, and her legs were only seconds from buckling and depositing her on her face, or behind. She had to end this quickly!

Peeling her lips back and baring her teeth she snarled as she gathered all of the rest of her strength. Hayden laughed at her thinking she was faltering, but laughter stopped and his smile faded into a grim line of concentration as Aalyn attacked relentlessly. Her dual curved swords worked him up and down so fast that their swords were a blur, and then she worked his swords up and around and out to the sides as she swept a foot in and caught him at the ankles. Off balance stumbling backwards, she followed Hayden pressing her attack slashing his side and then hip, thigh, and calf. A swift parry of his sword up and she buried her other sword in his chest. Hayden gasped. Aalyn would never forget the look of shock on his face. In a last attack Hayden slashed across her throat but his sword hit her shoulder before slashing her left eye from her temple, across the bridge of her nose, and threw her right eyebrow at an angle. Aalyn screamed in pain as blood poured from her eye and stabbed wildly at Hayden's throat.

Stumbling backwards, Aalyn landed on her bottom and clutched at her ruined left eye. Realizing she was vulnerable she looked up and only then realized there were a lot more than three of her personal guard fighting. Eydanth was laying on the ground motionless, a sword sticking up out of her chest as blood trickled from her mouth and dead eyes stared blankly up at the sky. Polymeira limped as she danced to keep two Faline guardsmen with daggers from putting one in her belly or breast. And Junovein, Aalyn couldn't have been prouder, he danced the dance of blades parrying four swords from two opponents despite cuts and lacerations criss-crossing legs, arms, and abdomen. His dance was beautiful though. His swords were a whirling blurr of the Sunflower following the Sun. Beside Junovein was Urdorj, then there was Hotomi, Didoque, Vrist, Mordreth, Slithmir, and over forty more of the Guard of the Scarlet Shield.

Steel rang out against steel, men and women screamed, and bled, and died, and then, slowly, the fighting stopped and the forest fell silent. The dead Faline men and Hayden lay dead and sprawled everywhere. No quarter had been given. There was no forgiveness for the assault they had committed against Aalyn and House Abendroth. Slithmir and Vrist knelt over Thurdain and Illglan, assessing their wounds and trying as they could to ease their pain. Somehow, remarkably, they were both still alive, though barely. Neither would survive the walk back to camp though.

Yelps and squeals preceded Polymeira dragging Aloufina through corpses lying at the feet of fellow guardsmen and cast Aloufina down to the ground in front of Aalyn. Aloufina wasted no time in crawling across the ground and kissing Aalyn's toes as she begged for her life, "Please mistress! Please, my lady! Spare me! I was taken from my tent at knife point. I was commanded to do as I was told and keep silent about what I saw, or my family, relatives, and I would all die! Please General Abendroth, I had no choice but to help and hope for rescue!"

"Rescue?" Aalyn mumbled as she mulled over the priestess's excuses. Looking over at her sisters she nodded to herself before saying, "Heal Thurdain and Illglan completely. I don't want to see so much as a scar on their skin when you are finished. Afterward try to resurrect Eydanth and any others of my guard. Once you have completed your task you will be given to Thurdain and Illglan, and they will watch you very carefully from now on."

"Yes, my lady!" Aloufina replied in relief in between applying more kisses to Aalyn's feet before turning and running away to attend to Thurdain and Illglan.

----(!)----

Gunngrul shrank back into the forest undergrowth upon watching his brother run through by Aalyn. Turning to his Lieutenant, Wergthal Phorl, he hissed, "Let's withdraw. Hayden is dead. I am the last son of House Faline. If I die our cause is lost. I must live on, now, in order to reestablish our House Faline under a new patriarchy."

"Sir," Wergthal interrupted with a shake of his head as he objected, "We are so close now. Look! There are only fifty of them. We are five hundred! Let's crush them and leave their bodies here to rot with Lord Hayden, your brother!"

"No! No," Gunngrul said more firmly with a shake of his head. In the excitement of the moment he confessed, "No doubt, by now, my mother and sister have rallied their supporters and have retaken House Faline. There isn't a place for us in Idavollr any longer. Right now, what we should do is retreat, make our way back to camp, raid the foodstuffs and the Animals carrying them, and then every man should take a priestess for himself. Gag them or cut out their tongues, then we will fade away into the forest and find a new home."

Wergthal looked at Gunngrul, his expression flat and unreadable for a long minute, before he replied, "Yes, my lord, I will relay your commands to the men."

Wergthal left Gunngrul standing there watching Aalyn move around the clearing speaking quietly to each of her guardsmen. When she left each woman snapped a salute and wore a broad smile. Gunngrul could feel a shift in movement behind him as orders were transmitted through the ranks and five-hundred men began to melt away into the darkness.

The soft crunch of pine needles under boots warned Gunngrul of Wergthal's return. It was time for them to make their escape. Pulling the enchanted mirror out of his cloak pocket, he gazed at his reflection before flipping it around to look at the intricate carvings and engravings. With a sigh, he tossed it to the ground and turned away.

Pain!

Shock!

Radiated through his stomach. Again, and then again, and again. Gunngrul's red eyes met Wergthal's hard crimson gaze as blood foamed in his mouth. Pain punched into his chest over and over again until he looked down to see the bloody dagger in Wergthal's hand withdrawing to plunge once more into his chest.

"You and your brother's have done nothing but lead us, lead House Faline, into ruin," Wergthal hissed in Gunngrul's face, "You have forgotten who it was that you sent out here on this mission to die like dogs by the surface dwellers hands!"

Gunngrul blinked his eyes in confusion while his mouth worked soundlessly to form words, and then he remembered.

"Yes, I see that you remember," Wergthal growled as spittle flew from his lips, "We are the last males who remember a better time under the leadership of your mother, our beloved Matron Forelain. You and your brothers told us she was dead!"

Wergthal withdrew his dagger and plunged it into Gunngrul's heart. As the light of life faded from his sight Wergthal growled, "But, you are right about one thing. There is no place for us in Idavollr, or House Faline, any longer. You and your brothers raped most of our wives and daughters or let your favorites do so. Those that refused your advances or theirs were killed, and now there is no way Matron Forelain would ever consider that we are her men to command, or that we were as much victims of your brutality as our wives and daughters. And so, we will return to camp, we will kidnap priestesses just as you've suggested, and we will run away from this army, Idavollr, House Faline. We will run far away, and we will make new lives for ourselves. But you, Gunngrul Faline, you will die for your crimes against your own people!"

The eyes that stared up into Wergthal's vengeful gaze were lifeless, and he had no idea when the light had gone out of them as he pronounced judgment in a horse whisper filled with pain and bitterness. Pulling his dagger from Gunngrul's heart he watched him crumple like a sack of grain to the ground. Blood oozed from him from a dozen or so stab wounds and he felt not a shred of pity or remorse. His only regret was that he hadn't killed Gunngrul and his brothers sooner.

Looking up he watched Aalyn help Thurdain and then Illglan to their feet. She gave them both a hug while they fussed over the scar cutting diagonally from her right eyebrow and nose across her left eye. She would never see from that eye again, but then her sisters would never speak either, but they were alive and that was something.

Turning from them he headed back to camp. He knew just the priestess that caught his fancy. Sadness tinged his heart at the thought. Gruda Opallain looked so much like his late wife, Valiance Phorl.

Valiance had been a warrior in heart, mind, and body. She was one of those that rejected Rweble Faline very forcefully and very publicly. Wergthal had been on a scouting mission at the time. By the time he returned his wife had been disassembled in front of the entire House. A lesson in treason they had called it, but everyone knew it was because Valiance humiliated Rweble.

Gruda would make a good wife if only he could convince her.

----(!)----

Valeheim-

Since Viridian's departure Bastet and Leandra had taken to sleeping together to keep eachother company during the night. Burza on the other hand slept in her own room on her own feather down mattress. It was only Bastet's second morning waking up without her mate snuggled up beside her, but with his previous absence for nearly a month before his return to tame and take Leandra as his mate, it was all starting to add up and feel like months that he's been away.

All three were up and eating breakfast when Summerset and Janaspi knocked on the door and entered the main common room.

"Good morning daughters," Summerset said cordially as he swept a bow to all of them.

Leandra was the quickest to her feet followed by Bastet. Burza was the slowest since she was a Chieftainess and Mother of her flock, the equivalent of a Queen. She was used to treating other chieftains as equals. Following Leandra and Bastet's examples she flourished a curtsy, but since none of them wore clothes it seemed off somehow.

"Good morning my lord," Leandra and Bastet replied in near unison to be followed by Burza in a much softer and more light and musical voice.

As the first mate of Viridian Bastet stepped forward and asked, "What may we do for our lord this morning?"

Summerset's bright blue eyes smiled as he shook his chestnut colored face which made the high ponytail of his cornsilk blonde hair whip back and forth expressively as he chuckled, "I am just enjoying a stroll with Janaspi this morning, and I wanted to come and make sure your all settling in well."

"Thank you my lord, we are," Bastet said with a smile, "The living arrangements are very good!"

"That is a relief to hear," He said as he panned around to make sure Leandra and Burza felt the same. When he was satisfied he nodded and came to the point of his visit, "Actually, it was Janaspi that said that she had a message for you this morning."

Janaspi was of a height with her mate, and at a glance was noticeably of the Linx tribe with her long overly fluffy ears, her mottled grey fur on her arms back and legs, the overly soft fluffy fur that covered her chest all the way down to her sex, and the short bobbing tail that curled out from between the top of the cheeks of her buttocks. Her most exotic feature though was her eyes. They were startling bright glacial blue eyes very much like Huxian's.