Chapter 21
~~~~~~~~Ella
It was very noisy, cold and bright. All things that were deeply anathema to sleep, even pain induced unconsciousness. I was also being rudely jostled, every motion sending agony through me, especially my hand. Memories began to surface like the fetid gasses from a midden. The trial in the temple... I had a wife? No, that wasn't right. I didn't have a wife, that was the problem. I heard music and the oohing and ahing of an amazed crowd. Someone was ringing a very loud bell very near me and shouting. It was intolerable. I lifted my head fractionally and peered through my matted filthy hair. A small boy with very few remaining teeth was peering in at me through the metal lattice of a cage. He spoke to someone above me in a questioning tone and was handed a long slender stick. He then jabbed me cruelly in the chest and whipped it forcefully across my shoulder. I pushed myself painfully away from him into the opposite corner of my prison. Trying to make as small a target of myself as possible. Moving at all caused further pain to lance through my hand and I looked down at it, fearful to see the damage. The skin was horribly red and blistered with some char on their edges. The whole hand was swollen and puffy. I wept to look at it and from despair before wrapping it beneath my clothes, using my sleeve as a makeshift sling by tying the cuff to the shoulder strap of my chemise. It wasn't until this point that I noticed my cage was moving through the crowd. The little boy had disappeared but other folk were looking in at me curiously. Some threw trash into my cage with sneers of hatred and derision. Others begged use of the poking stick to jab and slash at me. As we made our slow way along, I noted some of the other attractions. A juggler, a fire eater, some tumblers. Normally, I would have been delighted to see them and gawked and clapped like the other people, but I could barely maintain the strength to sit upright and evade the attacks. Eventually, after hours of this, the cart made its way into a clear spot near the city gates and set up shop. One of my tormenters, the one who spoke bad Ayorthan, had a small wooden platform set up and covered in a rich rug, which he stood on and spoke to the crowd. He railed at them and some people got down in the filth of the street and prostrated themselves before drawing symbols on themselves with their forefinger and moving on. After a good long session of this, more religious men showed up with huge pots of stew and bread and began the ritual I had seen that morning, only outside this time. A huge number of supplicants were fed before continuing on to the other attractions.
It began to snow and I was watching the crowd trickle by with dull disinterest when I noted some people leading horses. They all had their hoods pulled up against the devastating cold but one man had a saddle bag stamped with the royal seal of Frell. I reached my uninjured hand through the bars to the elbow, my joint too big to pass through, and grasped at the hood, pulling it down to reveal sandy hair curled into an elaborate cue. The man turned to see who had touched him. It was Char. I gasped in a breath and gripped the shoulder of his cloak with every bit of strength I possessed, pulling him up to the bars. I freed him and pushed back my matted hair, croaking, "Char, it's me!" My voice came out as a low growl, probably from the harsh cold and all the screaming and crying I had done lately. He gazed at me uncomprehending when a short woman with frizzy gray hair pushed past him, grasping my hand and weeping openly. It was Mandy. I wept for joy to see her homely face and pushed myself against the bars to be nearer to her solid warmth, grasping her hand and touching Char's beloved face.
One of my jailers noticed the fuss at this point and Mandy stepped away from the cage, pulling her hood up once more. Char had finally recognized me and he looked tortured like a starving man at a feast. As I watched, they both turned away from me, tears tracking down their faces and I watched them go, my arm jammed as far as it would go through the bars. The jailer was annoyed by my hoarse howling and hit me soundly with the stick until I quieted to his liking before returning to feeding the people. Shortly after, troops of city guards and army left the city by the same gate.
~~~~~~Char
It had been hardest to disguise the extent of the gore on my own finery. I was drenched in blood and spilled wine and my snowy lace was completely ruined. Thankfully, the staff were not disturbed by Conar's roaring as this was his standard behavior and he was a regular customer so our short-lived battle went momentarily unnoticed.
Attached to the private dining room was a necessary which included a chamber pot and a basin for washing. I made full use of the water to clean my face and removed my neckerchief all together. I then buttoned up my dark tunic all the way to the neck. It was not the correct way to wear the item, but it completely covered my bloody shirt front. The lace at my wrists was unceremoniously ripped free as well. Thus disguised I returned to the dining room and menaced Sir Peter with Conar's sword while Alverston washed his own bloody hands and removed his lace cuffs. His shirt front was surprisingly pristine.
Sir Peter was pale but resolute and when we made to leave, he offered, "there is a private way out the back, only take me with you and I will show you the way."
"How do we know we can trust you?" I hissed at him, "you were going to sell your own daughter to that monster," I gestured at Conar's crumpled form.
"I had very few options, I will explain on the way, but we must leave now," he quirked an inquisitive eyebrow at me.
"Fine," I growled and followed him out the door, Alverston bringing up the rear.
He led us down a servant's stair that let out behind the kitchen then through a small yard to an alley.
"We have to get the others," Alverston stated as we lurched to a halt in the lee of a high fence a few blocks away, "and we need our weapons and gear."
I nodded to him, "you're the cleanest and best dressed of us, I'll stay here with Sir Peter to wait for you. So we stood there shivering without our cloaks and waited for Alverson to return.
"So, where is Ella then?" I snapped at Sir Peter.
He looked at me in surprise, "I truly thought she was with you! That is why I wasn't worried."
"Why would she be with me?"
"You don't travel to another country to ask for a girl's hand without some idea of her thoughts on the matter," he snapped back. "Last I heard, you were on your way to Ayortha for a year, not haring off to God-forsaken Drinnen in the dead of winter to find me," he looked at me shrewdly.
"I wasn't looking for you, I was looking for Ella. I learned you intended to marry her off and I wanted to ask for her hand myself. When we got to Dame Olga's manor both she and you were gone." He didn't look fully convinced. "She has my ring already, I gave it to her at your wedding but asked her not to wear it until I had asked your permission."
He looked at me gravely then clapped me on the shoulder, "I'm sorry lad, if I had known," he trailed off. We both knew he had been acting quickly for a reason. He sighed deeply. "All that damn money, what a waste," he muttered, smoothing his hand over his brow.
I laughed bitterly, noting that his first concern was for the money, not his missing child.
Moments later Alverston showed up leading the rest of our group, including Mandy, Kieran and Dirick. He tossed us our cloaks and I shrugged into mine gratefully. We gathered to make a plan.
"If they discover that body before we make it out of the city, we are dead men," Sir Peter began without preamble.
"I have some news," Mandy pushed her way forward, startling Sir Peter into silence, "I heard today that some guards chased away a Rusalka from the palace gates last night…"
"What does that have to do with anything?" Henry interrupted.
"Because," Mandy continued impatiently, "A Rusalka is a Winter spirit with dark hair and green eyes dressed like a beggar."
"So she could be here begging somewhere," I interrupted eagerly.
"Perhaps, perhaps not," Mandy equivocated, "but it would be ridiculous to have come all this way just to leave her starving in the streets."
"Regardless," interjected Sir Peter, "we cannot stay here. Conar Breitwulf inspired deadly loyalty in his friends and family, not to mention his soldiers, if we remain it is only a matter of time before we are found and killed. If we are lucky. We must leave immediately."
"Right," I squared my shoulders, "groups of two, we will each leave by a different gate and we will be sure to travel through all of the slum districts on the way out."
Lorne interrupted to add, "I heard they was having free stew for the homeless near the Sestra gate as part of the festival."
"Good, I will take that gate. Mandy will be my partner. We will all meet before sundown on the first road marker on the road back to Lady Almaviva's manor. No one gets left behind. Am I clear?" I looked at all of their nodding heads and rested longest on Sir Peter. He inclined his head in agreement. We dispersed.
Mandy and I made our circuitous way through the city, pausing to look at each beggar who was even vaguely female. I emptied my pockets of the Drinnen currency I had accumulated during our stay and made sure at least one coin was left with each woman. None of them were Ella. Eventually we made our way onto a wider and busier street which was hosting a trio of jugglers as part of the festivities. We pushed through the streets and finally saw the massive line of beggars waiting for a bowl of stew from the brown robed religious men ahead of us. We moved down the line slowly, trying to peek in every hood and through each tangled nest of hair. A free standing cage on wheels was parked behind the serving table and I shuddered to see a form huddled into the corner of the prison. As we walked by, I felt my hood tugged down and looked around to see a skeletal arm poking through the bars, grabbing my shoulder in a surprisingly strong grasp pulling me to the bars.
"Char, it's me," Ella croaked hoarsely. I stared mutely as she pushed her filthy hair off her face. Mandy pushed past me, openly weeping and embraced her. I couldn't believe how gaunt she looked and I was horrified to see her in that cage, she ran a hand over my cheek and I wept openly with relief. I wanted nothing more than to shout and rant and demand her freedom immediately, but I knew I couldn't. Heedless of the tears rolling down our faces, Mandy and I were forced to drop back when one of the brown robed fellows noticed us. We stepped back further as he pulled out a stick and set about hitting her with it and yelling at her. We merged back into the crowd and trickled out of the Sestra gate, powerless to help.
Once outside the gates, Mandy and I mounted and rode swiftly to our meeting place. Alverston and Dirick had gotten there first and had led their horses off the road into the thick brush to watch for the remaining party members unobtrusively. I went back to the road to try to obscure our tracks somewhat in case we were pursued. Not long afterwards, we watched as a troupe of soldiers flew by on horseback, not even pausing at the crossroads.
The remains of our party trickled in until Henry and Kieran arrived last, just moments before full darkness swept across the valley kingdom. I conveyed what Mandy and I had seen and we discussed the problem at length, trying to come up with a rescue plan.
Henry had learned in his daily tours of the town's inns that these religious men fed the poor daily and had a huge cathedral in the centre of town. He also was told by Gehorg that they had several large monasteries outside the capital where people who were morally bankrupt were sent to be properly educated in the faith. He had heard that several also doubled as a type of prison for enemies of the crown.
Sir Peter kept interrupting to ask if we were certain that it was Ella until I glared at him and he held up his hands and walked back to the horses. Lorne and Vance were on watch near the crossroads and interrupted us to say that some kind of caravan was approaching.
Sir Peter perked up at this point, "I wonder if that is the caravan that I ordered to carry my sale goods."
"If'n it be the same what you sent to get Lady Ella's things, it may be, sir." Lorne put in, "I thought I maybe ha' seen the head drover afore now."
Sir Peter went out into the road to meet the caravan head, clasping hands with him like an old friend. Swiftly, Sir Peter had negotiated a deal with the caravan owner for him to buy Sir Peter's goods to sell himself along with his own. With some cajoling and bargaining, they made a deal neither man was pleased with and Sir Peter walked away with a sack of coins. I was standing nearby and reminded him when he would have left to also get his daughter's belongings. He grunted but turned back to receive the small trunks and rolled carpet that we had last seen so long ago. I helped him carry the items back to the group and the caravan continued on its way.
"We must get Ella out of that cage," I began again without preamble when we were settled again. "We don't know why she is in there or how she came to be there but we must free her and take her home." Nods all around the circle. "I will take Lorne and Henry and we will try to scout out her cage and see if she has been moved from the festival yet. If she has, we will try to find if she was moved to the cathedral or is on her way to one of the monasteries. Everyone else set up a cold camp here and wait for us to return. Mandy made some disgruntled noises and I turned to her, saying quietly, "I understand how much you want to see her and be involved in getting her back, but I need you to be safe. Ella would never forgive me if you were hurt trying to get her back." Grudgingly she nodded and began to set up a tent.
Lorne, Henry and I rode back to the city at a sedate pace, having exchanged our finery for the serviceable homespun of a labourer or off duty soldier. We reached the Sestra gate in time to see the monks leaving by it to noisy fanfare. People were throwing snow and garbage at the cage and we noted that the cage now had more occupants than just Ella. Two were rough looking men who were the worst for drink and one was clearly a prostitute. We dismounted to reduce our visibility and Lorne and I entered the crowd leaving Henry to mind the beasts. We listened hard to the crowd's yells but we hadn't picked up enough of their language to discern much. We slowly surged after the cart with the crowd but we soon had to retreat as the other townsfolk lost interest and returned to the other entertainments.
Before we lost sight of the cart it was heading away from Lady Almaviva's manor and further into the valley towards the towering mountains. The same route that we had ridden that morning to go meet Sir Peter and the ill-fated Conar Breitwulf.
I had Lorne follow the group of religious acolytes on foot with instructions to mark any crossroads they came to. I then rejoined Henry and we returned to the camp to gather our forces.
We had agreed that it would be easier to try to get Ella released while she was on the road if they tried to take her to a monastery. We would make a show of force and demand her freedom then ride off with her before anyone could stop us. This plan was certainly rough and dangerous, but it was far more likely to succeed than trying to lay siege to a monastery with so few men and an army at our backs.
~~~Ella
So far the other prisoners had left me alone. This was a blessing I did not overlook through ignorance because when the first drunk had been put in the cage, he had tried to rape the other woman. Only the violent intervention of several of the acolytes and his subsequent chaining to the bars had prevented the act. I thought the woman had maybe been raped already, though, judging by the bruises on her face and the damage to her clothes. She was bare to the waist under her tattered cloak and when she had been dumped in the cage, I had gotten a glimpse of a full bosom liberally speckled with dark bruises. She now occupied the corner opposite me and had rewrapped herself as best as she could, not looking at anyone.
When the other drunk was introduced to the cage, he got what looked like a firm warning from the acolytes. He still looked us over with the concentrated gravity of the severely intoxicated but when he met my gaze he shuddered violently and started yelling for them to let him out. After being yelled at and brutally slashed a few times with a stick he subsided like the other man and both were soon snoring noisily in their corners.
The crowd outside had not been so easily subdued. Yelling and excitement had accompanied the near rape as well as the beatings and when those entertainments had subsided, the crowd had returned to its earlier sport of pelting us with garbage and snow.
When the remains of the soup had been packed back to the cathedral and the acolytes had hitched the cage to a pair of extremely sturdy and placid horses, I was grateful as the contraption was hauled out of the gates and the crowd was slowly left behind. I had no idea where we were headed, but I was sure Char would not let me languish in here for long.
Surreptitiously I cleaned the muck from my small corner of the cage by pushing it out between the bars, then resumed my seat, hugging my rags about me.
I watched as the sky purpled towards dusk and we travelled down a rutted and snow laden path. At several points, the acolytes were forced to clear drifted snow off the road, which slowed our progress considerably.
As the sun sank out of sight behind the mountains the acolytes halted and built up a fire, feeding and warming themselves. The other woman and I pressed ourselves against the bars on that side, trying to glean some warmth from the flames. The men were still sleeping the deep sleep of the intoxicated, thankfully.
Once the acolytes had finished eating, a young man brought small bowls of the quickly congealing soup and coarse bread to us and the woman and I ate it quickly. Neither of us looked directly at each other, the sleeping men or our jailers.
The acolytes were making motions to continue on in the dark when several horses came swiftly up our back trail. I watched as a line of immaculately uniformed soldiers pulled up next to the fire. The leader of the soldiers conferred briefly with the angular faced acolyte, showing him a scroll dripping with ribbons and seals. The acolyte answered questions then offered the hospitality of their fire to the soldiers. They ate ravenously and I noted that the angular priest was conversing deeply with one of the soldiers and they had glanced regularly at our cage.
When the head soldier had finished his meal, he followed the acolyte to the cage, peering through the bars at us and discussing us in low tones. I tried to remain unobtrusive but the acolyte snapped his fingers at me, motioning for me to stand and come closer. The soldier recoiled slightly and gabbled excitedly at his companion. He was quite short compared to the religious man and vaguely familiar.
"This man say you kill brother," the acolyte stated baldly and I gaped at him, shaking my head vigorously before I found my voice.
"No! I've not killed his brother, I don't even know who his brother is!"
They spoke at length after this and I clenched my hand into my filthy skirts, trying to still its trembling.
The soldier called to one of his men and he came to gawk into the cage at me. He was taller and showed deference to both men, looking earnest and keen to please.
He turned his face to me and recognition shot through me. Though it seemed like months, only a few days ago, I had nearly been captured by soldiers when I had exited the tunnel from the dwarven mine, this had been one of those soldiers! Not the one who had grabbed me and thrown me in the snow, but one of his companions. I looked closer at his superior and now saw the resemblance to the other man, the one who had ordered me around in his blessedly unintelligible language. They were virtually identical.
My hand flew to my face in shock and I saw the spark of recognition on the face of the soldier as well. He gabbled excitedly to his officer and the acolyte and I could see that I had already betrayed myself by the look on my face.
Surprisingly, neither man asked further questions but began to shout orders. The camp was cleared in record time and the soldiers arranged themselves on either end of the column, escorting us onwards. My heart sank in my chest as we travelled further away from Char, Mandy and rescue.
~~~~~Char
It was darkest night when I hauled my horse to a stop in front of the huge forbidding doors of the monastery. They were seemingly carved directly into the mountain and so tall that they seemed to bend bizarrely outward as I looked up, trying to see the top. I didn't bother to dismount, instead leaning from the saddled to hammer a mailed fist against the frost-rimed surface that the freezing wind seemed bent on plastering me to. One door creaked open immediately, allowing just enough space for me to ride through.
It was dark inside, lit only by the lantern of a white garbed figure. I dismounted, handing my reins to another figure in white who had appeared to my left hand when I wasn't looking. The whole scene was bizarrely silent after the cacophony of the storm outside.
At a beckoning gesture I followed the figure with the light to another set of doors and was ushered through. Sunlight dazzled my dark accustomed eyes and I was blasted with heat and humidity, breaking into an immediate sweat. I staggered from the double blow, lifting my armored hand to protect my vision. When my vision cleared, another white clad figure beckoned me into an alcove. In the light I still could not discern the figures' genders because of the shapeless robes and thick lace veils covering their whole heads. Blessedly cool and shadowed, the alcove seemed to be a bathing room of some ilk. On a low bench, a folded pile of garments waited next to a basin of constantly running water. I turned to ask what I was supposed to do and found the doorway behind me unoccupied and now covered with a gently swaying curtain.
I stripped out of my armor, mail and quilted gambison, discarding them neatly in a corner, then took great delight in washing myself thoroughly in the cool, sweet smelling water. Once clean, I shook out the garment and found it to be a simple robe of undyed linen. Not the blazing white of the other people I had seen and without the complex head covering. Once I had donned the robe, another figure appeared at the door, beckoning me back outside and deep into a thick forest of heat loving foliage. We walked with purpose, even though I hadn't told anyone my reason for being there.
"I'm seeking…" I began, but my companion halted and waved a forbidding hand at me, so I held my peace.
I was led out of the heat once more into a dark corridor and through a maze of hallways, which joined each other at irregular angles and intervals.
The walls were unchangingly smooth and unadorned and I was quickly lost. After an unknowable juncture we came to a section of walls made of sweet smelling cedar and pierced with lacy patterns. I glimpsed another white clad figure inside and was led into their presence.
The figure was seated at a low table and as I neared I noticed the differences this person...this woman embodied. Where the others wore robes of material that was thick and stiff enough to obscure the form beneath, this robe was thin and nearly sheer, enough to glimpse the color of the flesh beneath. Her robe was unlaced at the neck, so far as to show a curve of breast through the opening where the others had worn high, stiff collars. She was barefoot and wore no stockings or leggings. The only similarity was the thick lace veil that covered her face from her nose up as well as her hair, only her veil was blue. It was finely wrought but completely obscuring. I gulped at the sight and turned to see the swish of robe as my escort receded, leaving me alone.
When I turned back, the girl was very near and I backed up a step.
"Char?" came the tentative voice from the apparition. I gazed closer at her, trying to see through the veil and failing but a familiar constellation of freckles on her exposed left shoulder caught my eye and I knew it was her.
A noise that was half laugh and half sob forced its way out of my constricted throat and I stepped up to her, holding out my arms and clasping her tight to me. She wrapped her arms around me and tangled her fingers in my hair then twined her warm bare legs around my waist. Then she kissed me.
Her soft lips were hungry and devouring and she molded her soft body to me, contacting me everywhere with only two thin pieces of clothes between us. She ran her fingers through my hair over and over and the faint scratch of her nails on my scalp drove me wild. I couldn't stop running my hands over her, trying to convince myself she was real. Her back, the soft curve of her hip and bottom then her naked thighs where they clasped me close. When we came up for air, sweat had plastered our clothes to each of us in the humidity and I could see the rosy hue of her nipples through the fabric of her tunic, taut and pointed, just like I was. I cleared my throat, trying to speak and she held a finger to my lips then ran her hand down my chest, grazing my own nipple. She nibbled my ear and ran her tongue up the side of my throat, still running her hand over me insistently. Every motion she made caused her to shift against my painfully hard erection, my sweat turning hot and cold by turns and lifting my hair in goose flesh.
Behind the low table was a couch covered in plush pillows and I awkwardly walked over, laying her down on them as she continued to drive me insane with her lips and tongue and roving fingers.
I tried to disengage to remove clothes, particularly her clinging veil and laughably insufficient tunic but she grabbed my hand and sucked my finger into her mouth while she ran her other hand up my thigh, rucking up my robe and baring my cock to the air.
I freed my finger from her mouth with a groan of pleasure, propping myself over her as she handled me, rubbing my tip against her hot wetness.
Suddenly, all of her limbs were around me, forcing me into her with inhuman strength and speed. I felt moments of unbelievable pleasure. I could feel the grip and release of her body on my cock and groaned deeply.
I tried to pull out so I could thrust again deeper...but I couldn't. I was stuck fast to her...in her.
I looked down at her in confusion and mounting dismay and vaguely noted the freckles on her shoulder were fading to unmarred whiteness. I tried to pull away again, harder and her mouth turned into a smirk and I caught a glimpse of sharp, pointed teeth.
"I suppose we can dispense with this, now," she drawled and it wasn't the right voice. She peeled back the blue veil revealing pit-like black eyed and curly white-blonde hair. She held the veil away from her and it burst into flames. Suddenly, my wrists and ankles were burning and I saw lines of ash and blisters inscribe themselves on my raw flesh.
I tried to flail away from her, withdraw from her iron grip on my hips. I felt swift, inexorable stroking against my shaft, perversely it had remained hard as iron through my shock, fear and dismay.
"Oh, one more thing," she smiled maniacally, waving one hand over her head. Behind the couch, a cedar panel slid to the side and I saw Ella, suspended from the ceiling from her bound hands, her feet kicking impotently and tears streaming down her face and over a very tight gag. She was massively pregnant and her belly pressed the fabric of the robe into a tight sphere.
I was losing my grasp on myself, the swift pumping was undoing me against my will.
"You've betrayed her ag…" her words cut off in a harsh scream and the woman and the world swirled away into mist around me. Completely out of control I spewed my seed into the darkness, trying to reach after Ella.
From out of the darkness I heard Kieran's voice, "...I waved the metal stick through the bitch just like the maid did! I don't know what went wrong! She disappeared like before but I can't wake him at all! And he's all covered in sweat and seed, but I can't wake him. Look! He's breathing!"