The Ambition of the Dreadlord Raveres
Part II: Allies, Foes, and Bargains
Episode Eight
Mariana held a dagger close to her chest as she slipped quietly down an alley. The blade was wet and glistened with crimson. Panic was beginning to mount in her chest.
'Fucking fools!' she thought, 'All they had to do was follow my goddamn plan! I have to get to Bilbali's ship… I have to reach it now!'
The streets were loud with the bustling of corsairs, merchants, and courtesans each plying their trade to one another. But quickly the brawl which she had fled was leaking out onto the street in front of the tavern.
'Blanc-Nuit' was a small rocky island off the coast of Araby and had become a haven for any ship which docked and paid the mayor's toll. It was a hamlet which had been carved out of the rock which formed the island.
At its centre was a large fortress, laden with cannon, and streaming with cloth flags of many denominations. Each was a different pirate crew or 'friendly' relation of the island, and therefore passing ships could look to see if they would be immediately welcomed, or if they were going to be subject to scalping docking fees.
Though Captain Annio de Bilbali had sworn he was going to sail and deliver Mariana back to Estalia, they had now spent nearly three days in the town. After bedding the captain Mariana's fears began getting substantiation. He became more distant, and she saw him less.
But she wasn't about to risk all of her eggs in one basket, she needed to pursue other options. Plying her charms on a few of Annio's sailors she'd enlisted their help in guarding her as she made inquiries in several taverns for possible passage back to Estalia as soon as tide and wind would allow. But so far it seemed that there were no captains willing, or friendly enough with the Estalian princes to not sail there freely.
Eventually it came to a head when she got into an argument with a merchant captain from the Empire. Currently fleeing with one of her sailor-guards in tow she made her way quickly down an alley and back towards the docks.
'Fucking fools!' she repeated.
She couldn't recall what exactly had happened, or who struck first but it didn't matter; the tavern ended up turning into a bloody brawl. Men drew steel, pistols, and even broken bottles and very quickly the patrons of the pub created a symphony of carnage.
Mariana had never been in the middle of a fight like that before and she knew she never wanted to be again. Hiding in Raveres' cabin ensured she avoided the battle on the Witches Wail, and having worked and lived a 'pleasure' life she hadn't seen violence on that scale before…
Not to say she wasn't able to hold her own… Her escape was assured after she had quickly and skillfully slashed at a distracted man's throat. After killing him she pushed and cut her way through the melee, then she departed by leaping through an open window to the street outside. All the while her Druchii dress clung to her awkwardly.
Mariana had neither the height nor the proper musculature to fit the dress and make it wear properly; it had been tailored to Raveres' exact sizing. The elf's bust, her hips, her height. Though the Estalian woman was thankful that most men were dim enough not to notice that she was wearing stolen clothes, clearly not cut or made for her.
The liberal vee-neck of the dress gave a pleasant view of her chest, but due to the difference in Mariana's and Raveres' bodies the material cut closely into her flesh and her large bosom was nestled uncomfortably within the vee.
'If only I were taller it would have looked better…' she lamented, 'Though ample bosom is more than enough to help me get my way!' With a smirk she agreed with herself and continued moving until she was distracted by the sailor behind her.
"Miss Mariana… I think we ought to go a less populated way!"
Her still living guard's voice was weak and cowardly but it offered her an idea. She panted as she stopped at a fork in the alley.
"Fine, this way!"
The sailor nodded and wiped off his bloody cutlass with his belt-sash. 'Will he do?' she wondered as they turned down a dimly lit and quiet alley.
Stealing a glance over her shoulder at the young sailor's face she studied his features more closely. He was perhaps in his twentieth year… cleanly shaven and his hair was loose, shoulder length, light brown. His eyes were bright and sharp, the colour of light hazel.
Under his loose-fitting sailor's costume, she could see the cut of strong muscles indicating his well-developed worker's body. He brimmed with life and each breath he took was one of passion. Despite the fighting he'd seen and those being cut down around him, he had fought and escaped with his life.
Looking back in front of her Mariana nodded, 'Oh he'll certainly do…'
Though she was still concerned about her sway over Annio she knew she needed an edge. 'Perhaps this sailor could provide that?'
"What's your name boy?" she asked.
Ducking under a beam which jutted into the alley from a work-building of some kind the sailor quickly responded, "Oh… I am Julio… Julio Farenso…"
'Julio' Mariana whispered.
Calming herself and steadying her breathing the two walked closer as they turned down the next alley. From where they stood, they could see the docks and the gulls loudly cried overhead.
"Where are you from Julio?"
The young man furrowed his brow at the change in her voice, "Uh… Miss Mariana is this really the time?"
She smirked and exhaled, 'No… I suppose not…'
Turning she stared at the young man intensely; he stopped and looked at her in confusion.
"Would you be willing to help me?" she asked.
He wiped his brow and looked behind them tentatively. "Well, I already am?" he said comically.
She smiled, "Yes, yes… but I mean really help me?"
He voiced his confusion and she stepped closer towards him. With a hand she began running her fingers down her exposed neck and between her large breasts until she gripped the side of the dress' vee-neck.
"Naturally I have myself to offer you… I merely need you to agree…"
He sharply took a breath as she visually teased him, "But… the battle! T-the… Aren't you with the Captain?"
His face contorted itself as he tried to understand what it was, she was doing or playing at. Despite his confusion she leant forwards and pressed her lips to his as she kissed him. Breaking off the strange embrace her voice climbed in excitement;
"Nothing else matters but the moment! The passions of the moment, the actions of the moment!"
She smiled and used her left hand to pull aside the material of her dress, framing and exposing her bare breasts into view. The young man's eyes widened and he stared at her madly, "W-what?!"
"Just swear to help me! Swear you'll do anything for me and I will give myself to you right here right now…"
Stuttering and looking around the deserted alleyway nervously the sailor tripped over his words as he witlessly agreed.
"Yes! Of course! A-anything you wish, fucking… damn the captain! I'll even help you kill him should you desire!"
She smirked coldly and wrapped her left hand around his neck to pull his face towards her chest. Dumbfounded Julio began kissing her flesh wildly, not wanting to spurn his luck he then began biting and sucking at her skin, eagerly enjoying the sudden willingness of his 'matron' to indulge his sexual desire. Mariana slowly brought her knife overhead, tempted to enjoy his kisses and the licking of his tongue a few moments more.
Giving himself entirely over to his lust Julio dropped his sword and began running his hands along her hips and body, licentiously feeling her curves through the dark material of the Druchii dress, whispering profanity and expletive ridden desires into her skin.
Mentally working herself into frenzy Mariana licked her lips and looked at her knife, smiling widely at the irony; it was the she-elf Raveres' blade. The same blade which the elf used to cut Mariana's face for her god, Mariana was about to use in praise of her own.
Aiming the steel at the base of Julio's exposed neck she moaned loudly as she drove the Druchii dagger into his flesh. With an odd grunt and moan the man died in her arms and began sliding to the ground as he twitched and exhaled, sputtering drool and blood as he left her grip. Stifling a moan, Mariana looked down either side of the alley before setting onto her prey.
Weaving passionate murder with her artistic desecration of the sailor's body Mariana satisfied herself with her dark rites, she whispered horrible incantations under her breath in an alien tongue; invoking the dark prince of pleasure before departing the bloody and rent corpse of Julio Farenso.
Having satisfied her own desires, she then carved the sigil of Slaanesh into the dead man's exposed and naked chest to assure the favour, attention, and further blessing of her patron god. Pushing her blood-spattered breasts back into the ill-fitting confines of her dress she began laughing deeply as she buried the Druchii blade into the dead man's chest several more times.
His twitches and spasms filled her with mad glee.
"Oh Julio…" she whispered, "You've no idea the aid you've lent me!"
She began licking his blood off her dagger and considered felating the blade along her tongue as her blood-drunkenness consumed her mind. If one were to stop and consider how or why she was sold from an Arabyan pleasure house it would have been obvious that it was not a natural thing…
Mariana was not a prize… Oh no, far from it…
Mariana was a curse, and when she was initially sold to the Druchii Captain Dorath it was under the presumption that he and his crew were going to use her and dump her remains into the sea. However, the strings of fate are often pulled by powers greater than mortals. And to a faithful acolyte of the Prince of Pleasure there were many ways to weasel one's way out of ill situations.
Now drenched in the man's blood Mariana stuck to the shadows and hid along the edges of the town until she finally arrived at the docks. Slipping silently under the piers of the quay she washed off her face and several wet spots of her stolen dress before cleaning the last spots of blood off the blade with licks of her tongue.
Encouraged by her 'beautiful' and 'horrible' offering she strode back out onto the quay and towards Captain Annio's ship. Unfazed and unworried about the treachery that she had committed. She felt revitalised… The excitement of a fresh kill titillated and erotically filled her with passionate confidence.
She'd assure herself of her return to Estalia… Whether Captain Annio would be operating of his own free will would be another subject entirely. Smirking to herself she licked her lips and hid her dagger back into the folds of the dress as she noiselessly stepped along the wooden boards of the dock.
'Let's see about the captain's course, shall we?'
…
When Jacque awoke, he rubbed opened his eyes painfully. Sunlight was pouring into his tent and a familiar voice was calling to him.
"What in the Lady's name is going on?"
It was loud. It seemed, angry. it was, wait. Whose voice could that be?
'Father?' Jacque wondered, 'No, no… it must be…'
"S-Sir Jean?" he croaked out dryly.
The man nodded and Jacque blinked until he could see clearly.
"Aye boy, now… Do you mind explaining to me why, when I went to wake you, I was greeted with a half-naked she-elf in your tent?"
Jacque sniggered and immediately stopped his laughter as his eyes adjusted and he saw his master's unimpressed expression.
"Half-naked?" Jacque furrowed his brow and immediately became defensive, "I had no part in that! I swear it! When I left, she was still clothed, all I did was drape my blanket over her, t-that's it. I am not the one to blame!"
The knight scoffed but allowed the squire to continue.
"Truly! I am not! She came to my tent as I slept and then… f-fell asleep. I couldn't handle the proximity and so I thought the wisest course of action was to use her tent…"
Stretching and indicating the many soft pillows under which he had slept the squire smiled, "It was a most restful decision master… These Arabyans know how to make a guest feel at home!"
Sir Jean looked at the quality blanket, the several plush pillows, and the stupid grin across his squire's face and snarled in martial disgust, 'Such luxuries sap one's strength and combat prowess.'
Grunting he pointed at his student and motioned with his arm, "Get up! They're preparing to break-fast but you and I are going to be running drills before eating."
Jacque's expression soured and he immediately began a complaint; however, the elder Bretonnian raised his voice and stopped the youth,
"Enough! We've become sloppy ever since that elf appeared. You're allowing her foul magic's to poison your mind. So, we shall drill and spar."
With a quick nod Sir Jean left before Jacque could voice any protest. The youth threw his arms out and fell backwards into the bed, 'Gods damn it. Even when I do the right thing, I still end up punished!'
…
In her sleep Raveres had kicked and kicked until finally the knight's old boots came off. Without her shoes on she then rolled and lashed out as she wrapped and fought against the sheet Jacque had laid across her until her ill-fitting trousers had fallen from her hips and bunched up at her knees.
And so, when Sir Jean first opened the tent flap, he was greeted with the pale nudity of Raveres' thighs. She'd fought in her sleep until the blanket was mostly wrapped around her torso, and barely covering her waist. He exclaimed in surprise and was aghast at the fact she was in Jacque's tent. But he cooled minutely with relief when he saw that his squire was not at all in the tent with her.
Closing the flap, he rumbled quietly in his chest as he stepped towards the tent which was originally intended for the she-elf.
'We're going to run the length of this camp until the little licentious creature drops…' The knight thought.
Pushing the untied flap open he loudly called, "Jacque!"
The boy stirred before he finally woke.
…
At the sound of men yelling, camels groaning, and loud movement the Druchii awoke with a start. Struggling against her blanket she swore and fought an arm out from the 'prison', reaching wildly to her side for her sword. In the panic-stricken moments of early wakefulness, she was under the impression she about to be assailed.
It took a few more moments of struggle against the sheet for Raveres to calm down and realise that she was safe. Nothing had transpired in the night. She was alone, and she was still breathing. Fighting the blanket away from her torso she looked down and furrowed her brow at her kicked off boots and pants.
"What on earth?"
Her eyes widened and she immediately brought her trousers back up and began pulling the ill-fitting leather boots back on. Her heart dropped and she rumbled with rage as her tired mind proposed the only possibility. Obviously, her teasing and the tension she'd wrought on the squire was too much and he actually had grown the nerve to try something…
Under her breath she growled, "I'll kill the little shit,"
Gripping her sword's handle, she pushed the flap of her tent open and began moving with a furious step, squinting as her eyes adjusted to the bright morning light.
"Where's the boy!" she roared.
Several Arabyan slaves looked at her with confusion and then apprehension when they saw that she was armed. Kicking in the side of the tent that was to have been hers she stabbed the material several times before concluding that it was empty. Likewise, the knight's tent was also empty. His armour and sword sat in a carefully ordered pile beside his rolled and stowed bed.
Raveres still did not calm, her rage continued to build as her mind became convinced she had been violated in some way.
'I'll kill him… he thinks he may take advantage of me in my sleep?'
She strode past the three small tents towards the centre of the camp.
'Did he try anything else? Did he…'
She stopped herself and gulped as she tried to focus on how her groggy and freshly woken up body was feeling.
'I… I don't feel penetrated…' she exhaled a small breath of relief. She became somewhat confused and hazy as she tried to recollect the series of events last night.
Eventually drawing an inconclusive blank, she rumbled and strode forwards all the same, 'I… Aghhh! I'll sodomise him with this sword nonetheless!'
She looked around her for any sign of the two Bretons but was growing more upset and frustrated that she couldn't see them, until finally, over the lip of a small sand-dune beside the great road, she saw the elder knight and his squire jogging closely around the perimeter of the camp.
As soon as she saw the boy, she felt a mad boiling in her chest.
'He thinks that he may do with me as he wishes? I'm going to flay his cock living!'
Holding her sword to her side she began a sprint towards the two Humans. The camp was in varying states of waking and not all the members of Sadalsuud's caravan had begun their work, but the few who were awake leapt away from and out of Raveres' way.
She kicked up sand and a trail of dust as she cut her way through the camp towards the Bretons and as she came closer to the two jogging Humans Raveres issued a loud cry and barred her teeth. Confused the men turned towards her and she lowered her head as she knocked Sir Jean out her way to tackle Jacque from the side.
Horror was etched across the squire's face. Having pushed Sir Jean to the side the elder knight exclaimed and swore loudly as Raveres brought Jacque to the sandy ground. She raised her free hand high and hit the youth across the jaw before wrapping her long fingers around his delicate neck.
The whole while Raveres was swearing and loudly threatening the boy.
"Think you can dishonour me? Think you can use me?!" the she-elf screamed.
Rage oozed off of her like a palpable scent and she brought her sword arm above her head as Sir Jean came to his feet.
"No!" he cried.
Lunging forwards, he tackled Raveres off of the squire and the two landed awkwardly onto the sand. With a practised hand Sir Jean reached to his leg and brought a small dagger from his boot. The elf tried rolling and flipping herself into a dominant position but Sir Jean instead disengaged and backed away as he readied his small weapon defensively.
"Druchii! What in the Lady's name has possessed you?!"
Her mouth contorted and her eyes narrowed past the knight towards the squire.
"Your little bastard thought to make me his whore in the night! But I suspect he lost heart and couldn't follow through!"
Sir Jean shook his head.
"No! He did not… I swear it; I saw what state you were in. You must have turned fitfully in your sleep!"
Raveres' eyebrow twitched and she looked into the knight's face as she straightened her back. The knight continued, desperately trying to come off as genuine,
"I heard you, all night… you cried out even. I know why! My boy has done no wrong!"
In their tongue the knight kept his eyes on the she-elf but spoke to the coughing Jacque. Though they had already spoken of it earlier, Sir Jean needed to hear it now, the knight needed to know if the squire had lied…
"Boy did you touch her in the night? Did you undress her?"
"I…" he began sputtering, "N-no! I… I may have touched her but I did no such thing I… I didn't –wouldn't ever do that! I couldn't do that! She took m-my pillow and so… I switched tents otherwise I wouldn't have been able to sleep!"
Sir Jean nodded and took a steady stress filled breath.
"Jacque, swear by the Lady, on all the relics, and by everything that is holy, in King Louen's name."
Jacque nodded and looked at Raveres with utter terror, "I do! I do I swear!"
Sir Jean cleared his throat and the murderous Druchii looked at him as he spoke in Druhir.
"My lady he swears he did not touch you… He left because you were screaming in the night… You were turning with terrors of your own and he couldn't sleep from your noises…"
Raveres' eyes began blinking and she relaxed in her shoulders.
"Y-you're lying to protect him! Only natural, but your squire is a-"
"He speaks the truth! You've never been in a battle before starting this mission of yours, have you?"
The she-elf moved her right foot back slightly, "W-what does that matter?"
"You see their faces in the night, don't you?"
Raveres opened her mouth but stopped. Sir Jean nodded to himself, 'You've got it… she's overreacting, keep on this! She's not what she seems Jean, you know it!'
"I bet you can smell it, right?"
Sir Jean slowly straightened and lowered his dagger.
"The dirt… maybe the smell of the horses? The smell of the men… The smoke, the sound of the steel?"
Raveres tensed and curled her lip as she lowered her sword.
'It's working!' he thought, 'I knew she was broken as soon as we got her awake!' Sir Jean, a veteran of many battles and even a few wars knew battle fatigue when he saw it. He'd seen far too many men consumed by invisible wounds, strong men, armoured and well skilled; brought low by a battle in their soul. A battle usually the domain of priests.
Sir Jean cleared his throat and remained steady as he spoke,
"How old are you Druchii?"
She shook her head.
"I know you're young for an elf… So, I wager that this was your big chance to make a name for yourself?"
Raveres' chest dropped as she exhaled.
'Got her…'
"How many men did you sail out with?"
She took a sharp breath.
'She was not liking this at all, and visibly squirmed uncomfortably as she began to visibly regret her attack on Jacque.'
"How many men?"
Raveres' voice was low and her face twitched as she finally responded, "Fewer than I would have liked…"
Sir Jean nodded.
"And yet you lived?"
She scoffed nervously.
'She's acting through and through… like all nobles, or like a swan… They want to appear all grace on the surface, but she's struggling… and it's bubbling to the surface.'
"I swear to you. I know what it's like."
Raveres looked down somewhat confused as her own mind raced.
"Waking up in sweats, seeing and hearing things that aren't there, the nightmares…" Sir Jean nodded.
"I know how it looks, but I swear to you that my squire did nothing to you, I had him swear by our gods, and our King."
The she-elf twitched and her sword hand lowered.
'She's lost her resolve; I can already tell… By the lady, just how badly did this elf's defeat affect her?'
He nodded and now began the next stage in his talking down.
"I don't know about you, but I don't want to die in this desert…"
Her expression showed that she too agreed, Sir Jean changed his tone and tried to invoke her noble-blood,
"If you were to die out here. Would your family even know of your fate?"
The question gave her pause and she looked down for a second before looking back up.
Sir Jean nodded, "Please, listen to reason."
Raveres blinked several times and stepped backwards.
"If he…" she began.
Her sword lowered and the tip hit the sand. She exhaled loudly. With a loud exclamation the she-elf turned.
"If I were half the Druchii I should be I'd have killed you all as soon as I had the strength!"
Sir Jean hadn't relaxed but he exhaled a little and resumed a steady breathing pattern. 'Can I risk it? I she's as far along as I think this might work.'
"Why haven't you?"
The knight's mouth formed a sarcastic expression and he continued with his verbal gamble,
"Cut me down, cut the boy down. I've heard Druchii do far worse, for far less."
Raveres looked up and the two stared at one another again until Sir Jean shook his head.
"Must be a terrible thing… to live in fear and distrust at all times."
He lowered his arms and relaxed, his dagger now completely lowered.
"But, will this be a reoccurring thing?" he pointed between himself and Raveres.
"You take a slight, react poorly, make threats and lash out impotently? If it is, I doubt even after you receive a translator your journey will ever succeed."
Raveres lowered her face dejectedly. Sir Jean took a step forwards and she then looked up in defeat, her voice softly declaring, "This was not supposed to happen…"
The elder Breton's expression relaxed as she stabbed the sword into the ground and she stepped away from it.
"My idiot sponsor… the man I was to follow… The fool got himself killed, and when he died I did too…"
She growled and looked to their left, over the great desert.
"Yet here I am! Drawing breath!" she shook her head and placed her hands on her hips.
"I see traitors everywhere and yet I know nothing! I… I was taught how to wield a sword, I know the rites of Khaine, I…I know the protocols of the Black Court, I can tabulate and compute business, I have poetry and stories committed to memory, and I still bear the scars across my palms from my childhood discipline."
She paused and her eyes searched the horizon wildly.
"Yet… I only know my own language. And out here I'm as helpless as a goddamn newborn baby! I survived, but I've been at the mercy and the charity of others for four days!"
She ran her hands through her hair and then shook with emotion as she looked back at the knight.
"Do you know the insult it has been to say words of gratitude, to Humans? To have to apologise… to Humans?!"
Raveres laughed, "I… I begged to be killed you know? Before being thrown off my ship and drowning, I begged that pirate cunt to end my life, honour and my shame demanded it."
Raveres turned away and sat down defeated, "But I couldn't even succeed at that."
She scoffed, "And here I am, thrashing in my sleep from the weakness of, of fucking nightmares?! And… I…"
She grew quiet and still, lowering her head so her face became obstructed by her hair. Sir Jean looked behind to his squire and waved the boy off quietly,
"Go back to our tents and continue on normally. Some of his men speak our tongue, fear naught."
Jacque stood and eyed the situation with complete dismay.
"Go Jacque. I'll be fine my boy. You're safe just go."
The Squire knew enough not to argue and he nodded before quickly running down the side of the sand dune back to the caravan's camp. A few slaves had watched the brief fight for a few moments before returning to their work. Looking back at the sulking she-elf Sir Jean sheathed his dagger and slowly walked beside her to sit down.
Raveres' face was somewhat red and her eyes appeared blood shot, but her skin was dry and her expression was plain.
"I am an old man…"
At the sudden appearance of the knight's voice Raveres' shoulders moved, but her head remained low.
"And I have lived and seen many things in my life."
She exhaled but remained still.
"I'm going to tell you something, probably no Druchii ever really gets to hear."
She furrowed her brow and slowly looked up to meet the wrinkled expression of the gruff Bretonnian.
"You need more than just yourself to survive."
He looked away and over the expansive sandy hills ahead of them.
"And sometimes. Though it seems a trifle, just to talk, speaking with another is beneficial."
Raveres scoffed, "Usually we'd beat a slave, rip an enemy's flesh or-"
Sir Jean raised his hand and interrupted, funnily enough the she-elf relented and respectfully quieted to listen.
"You've never been on your own before this, have you?"
The she-elf stopped and took a gulp nervously, her silence was enough of an answer and the knight continued,
"Why in all the gods' names did you decide to sail this far from your home?"
Raveres darted her eyes away and her voice came out in a meek whisper, "I had to… I had to do something grand, I wanted to. I wanted to outdo them all."
"Outdo whom?"
"M-my brothers and sisters."
Sir Jean smiled painfully, "Ah."
The knight remained quiet and looked out to the sand sea taking a deep breath as a slight breeze swept over them. He closed his eyes and sighed. Raveres looked at him and began to twitch and seethe.
"W-what can you teach me!?" she finally exclaimed. "Damn you old man! I know you have wisdom, just… just fucking tell me!"
Her voice climbed in desperation and she moved to her knees while digging her nails and fingers into the sand madly.
"I… I need to succeed! I can't fail…"
She almost sobbed involuntarily and at the break in her voice she raised a sand covered hand to her mouth in horror. Sir Jean slowly opened his eyes and turned to face her.
"Raveres?"
She looked at the knight and wordlessly nodded, her eyes filled with sadness.
"There's nothing I can teach a creature such as you…"
Her expression rose in insult and he shook his head while raising a hand,
"Where would I even begin?" He dryly chuckled, "What kind of a tale is this? What is it even that you want?"
She opened her mouth but when she went to speak all the air came from her chest as if she'd been shot with a crossbow bolt, finally and fearfully she responded,
"I don't know…"
Raveres tensed and looked down.
The knight looked away and nodded, "I understand that…"
"I mean…" she began, "I think I know, but. I, I actually don't as well."
The elder knight chuckled and looked to the sky before smiling at the Druchii.
"Perhaps we're not so different after all?"
She raised an eyebrow in confusion. He sighed and nodded.
"What would you want me to teach you?"
Raveres looked up and stared into Sir Jean's eyes.
"Would you?"
Her voice faltered and she pressed her palms flat to the sandy ground before bowing her head in complete submission.
"Teach me… A-anything! I owe you my life, since you r-re…"
she groaned and avoided saying the word 'rescued' and continued,
"I've been yours. I need your services. I need you as my sponsor…"
She shook her head, "I have nothing else. I will die from a knife in the back, I know it… F-fate, the gods, they brought us together for a purpose!"
Her tone once again began to tinge with emotion.
"I have never been so shamed… So low… s-so worthless in all my life."
Darting her hand to Sir Jean's boot she took hold of his dagger and he began to protest. Rising upwards he took his hand and made him wrap his fingers around the blade's handle. Pointing the sharp end into the flesh of her neck she skilfully directed it towards where her artery would be. Staring at the knight her face began to grow red across her cheeks and her eyes crinkled painfully.
"If you refuse… please… please, end my suffering…"
She stifled a sob and steeled herself.
"But if you spare me… I swear… I swear to abide by your strange customs… I will even make offerings to your gods if that is something you wish; I will do anything to earn your trust and to redeem myself."
She shut her eyes and took a sharp breath. Pressing the tip of the dagger into her pale neck a small sprout of crimson began to ooze around the tip of the blade and she shuddered as she pulled the blade into herself. Sir Jean held his breath and seriously thought about what was happening…
It was the longest moment of Raveres' life and she remained in a limbo as her mind chanted a loud noisy chorus of maddening thoughts… until finally she felt the Human rise and pull the weapon out from her fingers and off her neck.
With an expression of shock, she opened her eyes and looked up at the knight. Sir Jean furrowed his brow pensively and kept the dagger in his hands as he eyed the bloodied tip. Remaining on her knees the Druchii exhaled a heavy breath before beginning to hyperventilate.
"Y-you… y-you didn't kill me?"
An expression of disbelief and panic was across her features as Sir Jean lowered and took on a paternal tone, "Breathe… Look, look at me. Breathe, in and out, like me."
He demonstrated and his calming voice was to sooth her as he touched his hand to her shoulder.
"Slowly, slowly… In through your nose, out through the mouth. That's it. Breathe calmly…"
It took a few moments for Raveres to calm down but she eventually did and Sir Jean allowed the elf to wrap her arms around him in a brief embrace. The knight pushed her off and she shuddered in embarrassment as he stood back up.
Extending his hand to her he quietly and calmly spoke, "Come now… to your feet milady."
She refused his hand and remained on her knees.
"So, we're agreed?" her voice was plainly insecure and her expression was completely helpless.
Sir Jean shook his head, "Look we'll eat first and…"
"Knight… I cannot bear any more shame. Either you slit my throat or I will. Are. We. Agreed?"
Her eyes and face turned to stone and she held her breath as she came to her feet.
Staring the knight down he finally relented and exclaimed; "Gods damn you for your impudence! Yes! We're agreed…"
Exhaling a heavy breath Raveres looked down to the sand and then back up nervously. She almost couldn't believe it and her face contorted into innocent glee, expressing emotions and honest feelings that a Druchii was never supposed to express.
"I-I…" she stuttered, clearing her throat she nodded, "I will not fail! My lord… I swear I shall have a castle built for you!"
She bowed her head in respect and remained lowered offering future gains until Sir Jean pressed a hand to her shoulder and straightened her back up.
"Slaves, gold! Why I'll even secure a marriage with one of my cousins should you desire!"
The knight shook his head awkwardly and felt revulsion at her offers.
"Enough, enough… Oh gods this is a mistake already…"
He shook his head and turned around to the camp. Beginning to walk away from the crest of the sandy hill Raveres picked up her sword and began following.
"Now…" Sir Jean huffed, "I know no other way of teaching other than my own. Taking a squire and instilling in them martial lessons, humility, duty, oath-keeping, and honour."
He looked behind at Raveres as she followed him.
"I have no idea what would even translate for you or to you in your Druchii ways."
He groaned "Never have I had a student so old and a woman…"
At both qualities Raveres twitched with insult, "W-what!? O-old?"
She grumbled and whispered, "You're one to talk Human…"
Sir Jean stopped and turned around, his serious face was almost exactly like her father's and Raveres immediately felt the compulsion to tilt her head downwards and avert her gaze. The man's voice was level and controlled but she could tell he was irritated.
"I shan't force you to commit anything more in terms of apology. Nor will I be subjecting you to lessons which I know would otherwise fall upon your deaf knife-ears."
The knight turned back and continued walking as she followed, smirking in subdued amusement at the racial slur.
"We will forget all this business for the moment. Gods… I need to think about this."
…
Sadalsuud was still sleeping, snoring loudly when the Breton and Druchii returned to the camp.
"Master…"
A fearful slave prodded and tried rousing the great merchant prince.
"M-master… your guests, they were at one another's throats…"
Groggily the Arabyan came to and wiped his face. The way he had been sleeping caused his beard and moustache hair to bend and position comically to the right side of his face.
"Ah! W-what?"
He blinked and shook off his sleep.
"A thousand apologies my lord… but you told me to wake you and tell you of your guests?"
Sadalsuud nodded and began standing from his blanket and bed.
"Aye, yes, yes… Well?"
The slave bowed and began dressing his master, "Nothing troubling happened in the night. The few men that we suspected to be envying your prize faltered and left her be as soon as they discovered she was now armed…"
Stretching his neck backwards and adjusting his belt the merchant prince smiled.
"She's a sharp jewel to be sure!"
The slave nodded, "Yes master, but as I said they were just at one another's throats earlier."
Sadalsuud furrowed his brow and was about to ask more when there was a loud horn blown outside.
…
Some of the Arabyan's slaves stood to greet the elf and Breton with trays of food. The sight of servants waiting on her made Raveres instantly lighten and she was able to act somewhat like her home-self. Wordlessly she waved the slave to follow her to one of the few stools not yet packed away which sat in a semi-circle around the extinguished fire in the centre of the camp.
The slave quietly and motionlessly sat beside her, holding the meal tray up so that she could eat at her leisure. Though she was a bundle of nerves, Raveres did her best to daintily feed herself. She'd eaten desperately before in front of the monks and she was keen not to ruin her appearance before Sadalsuud's slaves, or himself again…
Courteously she nodded to Sir Jean as he waved the slave away, content to eat just the bread which had been placed upon the tray. With the crusts in his sword-hand the Breton walked back to his tent and started dressing in his armour. He waved his squire to follow and the Druchii smirked as Jacque tentatively glanced at her before quickly darting into the tent to assist his master.
Raveres exhaled tensely and began to take stock of her prospects; She'd now calmed down, she'd regained self-control, but rather than calmly plan her next moves she was too occupied with mentally flagellating herself for her earlier hunger and rage induced weakness.
'But…' she smiled privately, 'The Knight has believed me.'
Washing down her mouthful of bread with a weak spice wine, her thought continued,
'There was more than enough truth in there to convince him… perhaps too much truth.' she exhaled satisfactorily, 'and I suppose my acting performance sealed it. Though that little shit Jacque is up to something. And I swear I'll actually slit my own throat if I have to ride that goddamn horse with him again.'
Looking to her side Sir Jean exited his tent dressed in his armour and called his steed over to him. Stowing his sleeping roll in his saddle bag Raveres waved to get his attention.
"Sir Jean?"
He nodded, pointed to the horse and issued an order to the emerging Jacque. The squire resumed stowing the knight's affects as Sir Jean came closer to Raveres.
"How may I assist milady?"
Raveres was about to speak when she was interrupted by a loud horn. Sir Jean's hand reactively lowered and gripped his sword's hilt. Raveres stood suddenly, knocking the slave and tray over in front of her as she began looking around the camp. The slaves began stowing the camels and carts with a quickened pace and Sadalsuud emerged from his tent, half dressed.
The guardsmen were pointing and yelling at one another as one of their number, the guard captain, sprinted towards his master. Sir Jean furrowed his brow and called to Jacque. Raveres snarled, she didn't like not understanding the loud commotion around her.
"What is transpiring knight?"
The Bretonnian nodded, "From what I've overheard so far the sentries have spotted 'red-riders' across the dunes."
Furrowing her brow Raveres snapped, "What? Raiders? I thought Sadalsuud boasted none would attack us?"
Sir Jean started towards Sadalsuud, "Red-Riders are not raiders… they'd have to steal to be raiders."
His expression became more serious and he raised his voice as he got further from her.
"Get your breastplate on and make ready your sword!"
Raveres' eyes widened. Since she stood the slave that she had knocked out of the way had been cowering at her feet. Prostrating himself before her, sure of either the lash or her sword as punishment for not getting out of her way quick enough.
She smiled, 'A chance to finally see what this knight can do…'
"Slave."
Slowly the man at her feet tilted his head to meet her gaze.
"Follow me."
Though she knew that the Human couldn't understand her words she was sure he knew what she'd meant by her tone. Stepping past the slave she headed for her tent. Though the slave was still terrified of her he understood enough to put on and tighten her armour.
However, he didn't understand that she also wanted him to tie her hair. Her failure to convey what she wanted coupled with his fumbling attempts to apologise and supplicate himself to her irritated Raveres to the point that she aggressively pushed the slave out of her tent.
Now alone she stood and brought her hair off her face as she tied the long silver locks into a tight ponytail. Adjusting her gauntlet on her sword hand she stopped nervously and looked at the scratched and dented metal glove. Reminded of Annio's boot heel crushing her fingers she paused and then looked out the tent flap as the voices and commotion of the camp built louder and louder. Taking a deep breath, she stepped out and into the sunlight.
As soon as the Druchii reappeared Sir Jean patted Sadalsuud's arm and made his way towards her. He raised his voice and the she-elf attentively listened,
"The riders are on their way, and while we outnumber them, they are vicious savages who bow to no man…"
Raveres nodded and her arm visibly tensed as she tightened her grip on her sword.
"Sadalsuud's caravan…" Sir Jean paused uncomfortably, "And slaves will be easily slaughtered, we're far too slow to make a run for it so we are to ride out and meet them in the dunes."
Raveres expression remained the same but her eyes betrayed her nervousness. Pointing to the mounting guardsmen Sir Jean continued,
"Sadalsuud is not a fighter and will remain with his caravan as they work to get underway. He's lent you his horse… We, as well as his guard captain shall ride out to meet them and buy them time to escape."
Raveres furrowed her brow in irritation, "What? He risks nothing this way! He can buy more men and a new horse! The greedy piss-ant shows only his cowardice."
Sir Jean began making for his horse and Jacque as Raveres followed, glancing all around her with apprehension at the mounted guardsmen and the terrified scurrying slaves.
"That may be true my Druchii… But I'm surprised you're not as enamoured with the opportunity to spill blood as I thought you'd be."
She grumbled as a slave brought Sadalsuud's horse towards her.
"I'm not a cavalryman."
Sir Jean mounted and issued orders to his squire before laughing, "No? Some noble of Naggarond you are!"
Raveres recoiled in surprise and opened her mouth to respond when the guard captain loudly began speaking with the knight. Stepping towards the grey Arabyan horse the Druchii nervously prayed under her breath, 'Dark Mother, may I not fall from the saddle…'
Sir Jean had ordered Jacque to remain, away from the battle, to guard the gilded books which constituted their cargo and mission, and before the caravan's cavalry guard left the camp the elder Knight ordered him; 'Should I fall, you must ride out, leave Sadalsuud and make your way to our Duke. You must not fail should I die, nor should you think of battle yourself.'
Though he wanted to protest, without a word, Jacque humbly swore to follow his master's word.
…
"Gods below!" Raveres swore, sliding around in the saddle.
Their horses mounted the crest of the dune and began riding directly for their foe. To her they appeared as mere pinpricks on the very end of the horizon.
Sir Jean laughed and pointed at her with his sword, "Keep backwards in your saddle! You'll fall out as soon as we join battle if you keep riding like that."
Growling under her breath Raveres tried to follow the instruction, but the constant vibrating rhythm of the horses' gallop made her lurch forwards uncomfortably. A cloud of dust was rising from behind their riding enemy and blowing high into the sky.
"Druchii! Listen to me!"
Impatiently Raveres roared over the hollering of the guards and the rumbling of the hooves, "I can fight you know!"
The knight grumbled and looked back ahead. Their formation was a standard line abreast and in the centre of the galloping horses were the guard captain and their horn-blowing signalman. A little farther down the line to the right flank Raveres and Sir Jean rode tightly beside one another.
"When we get closer the whole line is going to tighten and turn into a chevron."
Raveres furrowed her brow and perked her ears, "A what?!"
Sir Jean raised his voice, "A vee! We're going to turn into a big vee!"
Raveres nodded and looked back ahead.
Their enemies were much closer now and she could see fluttering red banners held high. Sir Jean's expression became more nervous the more the distance between the two bodies of cavalry got smaller. Watching the aged warrior's expression made her become somewhat terrified and she finally felt the compulsion to ask,
"What the hell is wrong knight?!"
He shook his head and darted his eyes to look at her, "We…"
He looked at the guard captain farther down the line and then yelled, "We're not going to have time!"
Raveres furrowed her brow and then their horn-man blew his trumpet and the formation tried to tighten into a triangular chevron. But just like Sir Jean had said, they hadn't enough time before their enemy was upon them. The guard captain had waited too late and the two units of horses smashed together awkwardly, the more skilled among the red-riders easily passed through gaps and holes in the Arabyan formation and quickly turned around to begin the melee from behind.
Raveres was separated from Sir Jean by a maddened and crazed fool wielding two curved swords wildly. The horrible sounds of wailing, horses screaming, and metal scraping together filled the air as the men began fighting. Now in the thick of it Raveres honed in and thought only about the madman in front of her.
Struck with her beauty the man licked his chapped and cracked bloody lips as he bared his filed teeth in a grotesque smile. Snarling in revulsion and without a second's hesitation Raveres roared and brought her arm up as she turned her horse to the side. With a quick lunge she passed her longsword through his open middle and stabbed through his cloth clothing.
Groaning and sputtering the man keeled forwards as she removed the blade from his gut. Falling from his saddle Raveres turned to her right side to engage another of the riders. The few that saw her and were not otherwise engaged in fighting were not going to be distracted like their now dead brother and began a furious attack.
Bringing her arm upwards Raveres held back a blow and parried easily, the man tried to repost her but showed too much of his arm and she quickly lowered the bottom of her blade and withdrew it across his unarmoured arm.
Pushing down she opened his blade arm up along the length of his forearm and he regarded the wound with horror as he began screaming. Cut arteries began squirting blood and he attempted an attack. Splattering her face as he whipped his arm forwards Raveres screamed as she leant forwards in the saddle and impaled her sword into his throat.
Though, not minding how she was sitting or the distance she had to cross as the man fell backwards off his horse Raveres' blade, still in his body, followed… and she flew after it. Letting the reigns fall from her hand she went diving out of her saddle onto the sand below.
Biting her lip as she hit the ground she swore loudly and wanted to scream, 'but!' she nodded, 'I still have the bloody sword!'
Pushing herself to her feet she quickly looked to her left and just in time to dodge and parry a new attack. Though he had the advantage of being on horseback Raveres was a much better swordsman, and she quickly and skillfully dodged his clumsy and brutish attacks. She cried out and growled with her movements, swearing and steaming as she failed to find an opening enough to deliver a killing blow.
Around her the melee progressed and she caught a glimpse, past her own fight, of the knight Sir Jean locked in tight combat. The two men's horses were almost touching and the men's hilts were locked together as they yelled and stared one another down. The stalemate was ended when Sir Jean let go of his reins and buried his dagger into his opponent's throat.
Smiling eagerly Raveres felt strange approval of the move before turning her attention to her own Red-Rider. Parrying the man's lunge she finally saw her chance and she committed a pirouette of a dodge, using her free hand to pull the man, using his own momentum against him, closer.
Responding with a lunge of her own she buried her blade into the upper part of his chest, just above his heart. Kicking his horse in the flank Raveres jumped back as the mortally wounded man tried to remain on his now wildly bucking steed. Though these Red-Riders didn't seem too skillful a threat to her, Raveres was horrified to find that when she turned around in a circle, these unarmoured savages had cut up and killed nearly a third of the caravan guards already.
The few fights she saw immediately in her vicinity were not going well for Sadalsuud's men and some even turned to and put to flight, routing from the battle
'How?! What lack of will do these whelps have!'
"Turn and fight you cowards!" she bellowed at the retreating men.
Growling she stomped across the sand towards Sadalsuud's horse. The stallion wasn't a stranger to battle it seemed and though it appeared skittish of the red-riders' steeds it hadn't gotten that far from her. Climbing back atop the horse Raveres took a tight hold of the reins and dug her heels in as she rode to join the nearest fight to her.
Though she was excited her breath was going somewhat nervously before she joined battle again. Her apprehension over the strange and sudden malaise spurred her onwards and she turned her frustration into energy as she loudly cried,
"Sa'an'ishar! For Khaine!"
Driving her blade into a red-rider's back the man coughed and screamed in pain. Dropping his sword and slumping from his saddle, Raveres' sudden attack had saved one of Sadalsuud's guardsmen who was engaged from his right side.
Riding her horse around the Druchii didn't notice at first, but she was quickly becoming more comfortable with real fighting. She was unbelievably shaken inside, but outside she had become still as a cup of water and moved with strange fluidity. Barring her earlier fall from the saddle of course.
Blood had splattered her face and she felt the bitter coppery taste upon her tongue and she felt… Powerful. With a strange little smile, she set to and began fighting harder, cutting down another rider with ease. Sir Jean had won several of his fights and he forced his tired old steed closer to his Druchii charge.
"Raveres!" he called, out of breath, "The captain is slain!"
He pointed with his bloody sword past their area farther down the now dust covered battlefield to several collapsed horses and groaning men on the ground.
Over the din of arms, the horn blew a retreat and Raveres looked to Sir Jean, "What signal is that?!"
Around them a few of the guardsmen began to turn their mounts in an attempt to break the melee.
"Damn it all!" Sir Jean groaned, "That idiot horn-blower has sounded the retreat!"
Raveres felt bile and hatred rise in her mouth. Squinting through the thickening haze of the battle she spotted the man making the loud call. He'd fallen, or perhaps his mount had taken a deadly blow? In any case the man had become unhorsed and stumbled along the field with only one arm through the chaos of the battle.
Snarling Raveres pointed her sword at him and roared to Sir Jean, "Tell these cowards I'll flay them if they try to run, I will kill that man, you make sure they stay and fucking fight!"
Sir Jean furrowed his brow in concerned protest but before he could vocalise his contention Raveres kicked her mount into a gallop and she leveled her sword to cut the cowardly signalman down.
…