The Ambition of the Dreadlord Raveres
Part III: Debts to be Paid
Episode Twenty-Four
Jacque hadn't realised how hungry he was until he and Shen finally arrived at the retainer's chamber. The former courtier's cell was a humble apartment in the servant's wing of the Blue Palace, furnished with only a few necessary items; a work desk, a few chairs, a shelf full of scrolls, a cot, and a trunk for storage.
The walls were relatively bare, with only a few centrepieces of elaborate tilework to break the otherwise dull uniformity of the Arabyan style.
"Please excuse the mess…" he announced somewhat embarrassed.
Clothes, scrolls, and wrapped satchels of personal effects were strewn across the bed and floor.
"Lady Naguii, she's requested that I gather my items and load them as soon as her passage from Araby was prepared."
A nervous and excited laugh escaped his mouth as he admitted,
"Despite this all, I can't help but feel a certain anxiousness to leave."
Motioning Jacque and Shen were to sit Yurin continued, "I wonder about the adventure of it all…"
Trailing off Yurin shook his head as he turned to his guests.
"Is there anything I might get either of you? Have you been able to pause since returning to the city?"
Jacque looked to his companion before letting out a weary breath as he sat down uncomfortably,
"We haven't…"
Yurin's brow rose and he looked towards the foreign woman as she concurred with the young Breton, nodding quietly and reservedly. Clearing his throat and stepping back towards the open chamber door the retainer spoke,
"Just a moment."
Yelling into the hallway in Arabyan Yurin was promptly responded to by a palace eunuch. They spoke briefly and the eunuch quickly ran off. Turning back to his guests the man offered a smile as he attempted to play host,
"Shouldn't be a long wait at all…"
Rubbing his fingers together nervously the translator walked to his chair and reluctantly sat down. Jacque swallowed, unused to being the initiator and main actor in a conversation with another adult.
"Yurin… you said of earlier that you'd tell all of what had transpired since our…"
The squire pursed his lips, "Parting."
Yurin averted his gaze.
"Aye…"
Nodding Jacque stared back at the retainer, "Tell me…"
Yurin looked up and hesitated, changing his view from the boy to his female companion.
"Of course…"
Jacque immediately realised why the retainer was hesitant and attested to Shen's loyalty.
"Don't worry! I swear on my honour my companion is one of trustworthy character."
Shen smiled, almost embarrassed at the praise. But Yurin furrowed his brow, unsure, and uncomfortable. Jacque tried again to assuage the man's unease,
"Sir… I swear it, by the Lady of the Lake."
Yurin sighed, before finally conceding. Eager to move the moment along the retainer began regaling the past days' events, only briefly pausing when the eunuch returned with water and food. He spoke of Raveres' immediate reactions, also of what they'd done after parting on the docks, her attempts to locate either Sir Jean or Jacque, and of her pursuit after the remaining black knights.
When the tale reached its end, and Yurin explained what had happened when their party had arrived at the tomb in the desert, Jacque was horrified at the lie which had been woven, and of the deception which no doubt had been torturing his Druchii companion.
The weight of the story fell upon Jacque so heavily that as soon as Yurin was finished speaking the young Breton rose from his seat, demanding to see Raveres immediately. This led to Yurin's greater discomfiture as the boy spoke.
"Please! Yurin I must see her! This injustice cannot stand; I know her heart must be aching at such a horrid lie…"
He made for the door as Yurin's protests grew and his voice rose, finally yelling "Squire!" made Jacque stop in his tracks and turn around.
"There is more…"
Furrowing his brow and looking at Shen the woman turned from the squire to look at Yurin with a brow raised in interest.
"When we returned Lady Naguii… Lady Raveres she was…" letting out a quiet growl in his throat Yurin tried to plot the best way to speak, "Distant, unapproachable, inconsolable."
Finally deciding there was no better way to say it Yurin declared,
"She demanded that she be led to the slave market."
At this Jacque tensed and stood rigid. Shen looked down and her face became a forced neutral, as if she hadn't heard Yurin's words. Trying to form a question the Breton stuttered quietly before the retainer continued,
"She desired to indulge what I can only describe as her culture's ways… She used the treasure from the pirate's hoard to purchase wine, she bought… flesh, and then she announced her intention to be locked away until we were ready to depart these shores."
Jacque blinked as he heard the words, but he didn't know what to do in reaction.
"Please, sit young squire."
Reluctantly Jacque walked back to his seat and lowered into the plush cushioning.
"My lady is… indisposed with her slaves. And, last I saw her she was…"
Yurin stopped himself from continuing. Jacque was dumbstruck, his idealistic, poetic, illusions and his childish hopes about 'his' Druchii were painfully cut away. And he realised in a short and uncomfortable way that she was what she was… A Druchii, and as such she was sinful, sadistic, indulgent, wanton…
He shook his head as he realised one of the words which Yurin had used and remarked,
'Slaves? P-plural? I can't understand more than… I mean! She… w-why? I had hoped…'
At this Shen finally spoke, strangely matter of fact,
"These slaves, they too are to follow with the whole of her party in departing?"
Yurin nodded,
"As I understand it that is correct. As soon as our ship is ready, they will come with us out to sea, to Bretonnia, Ulthuan and then on to Naggaroth."
Jacque sat back into his seat as his mind swirled. Yurin watched the expressions across the young squire's face with an empathetic understanding.
"You understand my hesitation in not bringing you to her directly…"
Jacque nodded slowly.
"Now" Yurin looked at Shen. "You must explain your companion more to me… Privy to the whole of my mistress' tale I feel compelled to make…" he paused while smirking, "A study of you.
Coming out of his stupor Jacque cleared his throat,
"Well… this is Shen. She saved me, and I her."
Yurin nodded, "You had mentioned as much earlier."
He adjusted how he was sitting,
"I meant more along the lines of…" he trailed off and changed his tone, "I mean, where is your companion going? Where has she come from, and so on?"
Shen smiled politely, but Jacque noticed her stiffen and her hands move in her lap strangely. Then her voice came out, striking both males with its rigidity and strange authority,
"Is it not enough that the young man has vouched for me?"
Yurin became soberly serious, and his face changing as the bookish translator was forced to shift tact.
"Unfortunately, it is not…"
He let out a chuckle of disbelief.
"You see I have spent the majority of my life reading… speaking, and otherwise wasting my hours to the tunes of others in the same place, over and over, year after year. In changing this… I, I mean to say, Lady Raveres stands as my only chance at something different."
Jacque nodded, but Shen remained still. The woman continued to stare back at the retainer as he finished,
"I do not seek to jeopardise that."
Trying to offer some form of politeness to his otherwise curt change in attitude Yurin's voice shifted, "Surely you can appreciate my position? I wouldn't yet know how my lady would prefer me to operate of my own accord."
He laughed before Shen snapped out of her reservation and stillness. Shaking her head and bowing forwards she nodded,
"Of course! I…" she laughed nervously, "Everything has caught me quite… unprepared, I… I am sorry."
Rising back up she met Yurin's eye before pursing her lips,
"Whatever you wish to ask, I am an open scroll."
…
Awaking with a groan Raveres began blinking and raising an arm to her eye. The simple movement felt rigid, and as she forced her tired and hardened muscles to move, she began to feel something more than simple sleepiness and exhaustion.
Before her hand even reached her face, she began to feel the burning. Like a fire that had been pressed to her flesh she felt a ripple across the surface of her dry skin which intensified in multiple places. Though she wasn't completely awake she knew, somehow, that this burning was caused by foreign arms.
These arms were either pressed tightly against her or haphazardly laying across her body, but they wished her ill… She knew that much. With a panicked and sharp breath, she began to smack off the hands which tipped these arms, letting out a building shriek of surprise as she did so.
From all that had transpired earlier, and being utterly consumed in the groggy, hungover blur of waking up the Druchii had forgotten that she wasn't alone in her bed. Rising up from the comfort of the mattress Raveres continued making loud noises of surprise, but by now these yelps and groaning shrieks were changing to ones of terror.
Screaming and stumbling upwards she thought she was being wrapped around by daemonic hands. That the fingers and arms were there to drag her down into the depths of Slaanesh's cursed embrace. Not since she was a child was she so afraid of death or darkness, the possibility of the horrible afterlife awaiting those caught by the dark prince.
So as she began to grow more terrified, every maddened and nightmarish possibility started to run through her mind.
To her these thoughts were entirely familiar, continuing grim reminders of her losses, failure, dishonour, even the dismal status of her Hakseer crew, and of course most recently the loss of the stupid human squire and her over-indulgence and overreaction in that regard.
Then there were all those she'd killed. It wasn't guilt she felt. She knew that much. But something similar began to possess her as their now-rotten and bloated faces formed around her in the pale half-light.
Foremost among their faces was the familiar handsome features of the first Asur which she had cut down. Though time separated her from the moment she could see his fine, arched eyebrows, and then his grimace of pain, and the utter surprise which his dying face once expressed.
But now his lack of expression appeared to her almost as a woeful resignation to his fate as a shade. A melancholy shot through him which now dyed the vibrancy of his eyes into a dull milky white. As a soldier in life he now seemed suited to his new duty as a torment to her in death. Then beside the Asur guardsman more appeared.
There were the pirates who attacked her ship, the raiders in the desert, the mercenaries, and the knights, so many began to stand beside one another. Accompanying these faces, and their hands, was the slithering, loud… surrounding limbs of the kraken, and while she couldn't see the beast she could hear its breath, hear its movement, and its presence seemed to permeate the room.
She could smell it.
The acrid foulness of the beasts' ichor perverted the incense and scent of opium which should have been hanging in the room. Instead all she could breathe and taste was the rot and decay of sea-salt mixed with feted fish gut.
And in this nightmare, she knew that behind her head. Almost pressed up against hers, emerging through the sheets and bedding was his foul and black spotted face, with the flesh slipping from his ivory skull in bile…
Annio.
Even after killing him and sending his ship to the watery embrace of Mathlaan Raveres wasn't rid of him and she began to feel the icy shards of horror around her heart. For all these faces surrounding her, each was in a state of decay as her mind and fear continued to fuel the illusion. She couldn't tell if it was better or worse that none of the men staring back at her in the darkness had any trace of emotion upon their features.
They were each mute and blank, and some were missing eyes, stolen as carrion, but she felt the full weight of their gaze all the same. It was in this terror that she felt like a child again: afraid and helpless, wanting only to escape the bludgeoning of her parents, or her tutors, or her siblings. She wanted to run.
Her left hand was burning, her body was pierced with punctures and slashes, and now she was also marred by the needle of surgeons, each of these made her feel tired, and enflamed her desire to flee.
She had no sword nor did she, in this moment, have any will to fight. Only madness drove her on. A base, primal, fear of what surrounded her.
With her building screams giving her additional force she pushed the imagined hands away from around her.
Even though they weren't moving, she could feel their desires: they were waiting, read to reach for purchase against her bare skin. And like in a dream she knew that they sought to bury their fingers into her wounds.
With such moorings she feared them to try and pull her flesh away, so that she might join them in death, naked of her own skin. It was this thought and mad possibility that she feared most, and as such fought harder to free herself.
Lashing her arms upwards she battered the hands from her chest and from against her body as she attempted a final time to rise. Outside of her head the sight was far worse than within…
Raveres screamed and wept madly as she tripped over some of the abandoned clothes and shoes strewn about the floor. Her eyes were shut, desiring reprieve from the sights around her. And this blindness made her falter as she stood and miss-stepped, falling to the ground in a rapid sprint.
Her hands were above her head, trying to throw the remaining feeling of the fingers out from her hair, and so were too far away to help soften her fall, and soon she met the floor. The she-elf let out a heavy, retching, dismal cry of pain; the air having been forcibly evacuated from her chest and her head now thundered.
Her body kicked and rigidly struggled as she felt as if she were drowning on land, devoid of air, with only mindless panic to overtake her.
Whipping her head around she had to see her attackers, the phantoms of her nightmares. There was no way she'd die or be dragged away like this; sputtering and on her knees. Spectres or apparitions were not going to succeed. She'd bite and kick, and scream, and claw! All the way to Slannesh!
Gathering all the courage she could she finally turned, the thought 'I will not go!' coursing through her veins.
But instead of the foul wights of her nightmare she saw three surprised and wide-eyed faces. The darkness which was clouding her eyes lifted, the room became filled with filtered daylight, the features of her surroundings appeared familiar and finally she recognised them.
The faces of the living stared back at her and as her gaze met theirs all memory seemed to come back to her in a flood. Her chest heaved as she struggled to fill it with breath.
Arathar too was panting and he had brought his right hand upwards in self-defence. Rhea let out screams of her own, the means of being woken up scaring her to the point of her own sputtering, tearful, panic. In defense she had begun wrapping herself in the silken sheets of the bed as she shook and cowered behind Arathar, her face now obscured by the material.
Maya's eyes were wide and she had thrown herself backwards, as far from the bed and the maddened Druchii as possible. She stood nearer the wall and drapery, her athletic, lithe, muscles, rigid and her body ready to fight.
Each slave was terrified of their master in their own way, and here it was that the Druchii which bought them and who had ordered them around in such sordid performance was now screaming and crying aloud on the floor.
As Raveres realised this herself, the cries quickly became stifled. Biting her tongue as hard as she could, and holding her breath in an effort to quiet herself Raveres began thinking;
'Silence yourself! Quiet you damned fool!'
The Druchii looked from each of her slaves' faces as she forced her body to calm.
'It was a nightmare! A nightmare, you stupid child…'
Her thoughts took a disparaging tone as she continued to berate her own weakness.
'It was but that; a horror fueled nightmare…'
She tilted her chin back as she finally allowed herself to draw a long, steady, breath. Her strained, pulled, and burned muscles were forced to operate at her own, controlled, pace as she thought,
'You are a stone… a rock, and a nightmare means as much to the stone as rain to the castle.'
Despite the herculean amount of effort she was exerting over the control of her breath, her heart was hammering wildly, like a maddened drum.
'Face, you fool… Now stand, you must stand!' she began crying at herself. 'You must save face or kill them all now… lest they never fear you!'
Her mind felt torn this way and that as thoughts screamed and shouted at one another. Shaking her head Raveres blinked, trying to force the spots and the grit of sleep-sand from her eyes. But she knew she had to move, and now.
Desperately trying to save face she looked away from the two humans and the Asur atop the bed. Shrinking and becoming as quiet and as still as she could Raveres moved herself backwards until her bare skin touched against the cool stone step of the bath and she was forced to stop.
Shame and embarrassment began to cloak the Druchii in an almost visible weight as her neck and shoulders slouched; like a brutal yoke had been pressed upon her. Her pale and sun-kissed flesh was awash in strange colours, with her cheeks revolving between flushed and burning amidst the patches of ointment rubbed skin and drier scaly flakes.
Slowly she brought her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them as she hid her face against her legs.
'Don't you dare weep… you stupid cunt. Don't you weep! You'll better be ready to kill them all if you do, and now…'
Raveres knew that there was nothing she could do at the moment which would negate her current condition or her overall weak display.
'All that money… wasted if you kill them, come on you fool… come on!'
She was, for the moment, stuck, stalled near the edge of a great precipice. So she breathed, and she knew she could control that, so she focused herself to the task, collecting her energies, taking stock, and reorienting herself.
Drawing one deep breath after another she eventually calmed herself down enough to face them, to face it all; to go out of herself once more.
While her heart was less agitated and she knew she was in no danger from spectral forces, she wasn't about to be 'right' just yet, and though she'd willed her muscles to relax. Raveres remained cloaked in the malaise of embarrassment, shame, and most aggravating: impotence.
As a Druchii, steeping in such a mindset, Raveres eventually began to regard things with spite, with venom, and with a masked rage. Even leaning on the stone step behind her for support was something which began irking her. The fact that her newly bought slaves had seen her whole display was almost indescribable.
She forced herself to become recomposed.
The nightmare had made her feel childish, and small. And reminded her of her upbringing and of recent events, but she realised, she was actually free of such chains.
She wasn't at home, and it was precisely because of everything which had happened so far that she was where she was; in the palace, in this room, and feeling as rich as King Malekith.
She was Raveres.
'I am… beholden to no one.' She eventually thought.
Focusing on this resolution she realised that was all the strength she needed at the moment. Nodding to herself she thought, 'Nightmares shall have as much of a hold on me now as my vile siblings do.'
Drawing a breath through her nose the she-elf tilted her head and met her slave's eyes, looking at each with a growing aura of control. She stared each of them down, but none of them as sternly as at Arathar.
The poor Asur…
Though Raveres hadn't yet made a close study of her purchases, from the brief amount of time she'd spent with them so far she knew that the male would be the most effective example to make.
Maya was so fierce and wild that were Raveres to do something now the human woman might just decide to fight to the death, and the imperial Rhea was so meek that any kind of beating or 'teaching' would appear to the others less of an example and more of a cruel gesture and ultimately ineffective.
But Arathar?
He was handsome, strong, fit, and still strong willed. She began rising from her seated position into a stand, moving her arms to her sides, revealing her bare body; unashamed and unafraid. Her new scars, her still-fresh wounds, her bruises, and her burns
Drawing a deep breath and straightening her back she puffed her chest out as her muscles moved with her breathing. The two human women averted their eyes and looked down, both moving uncomfortably in their own ways, while Arathar swallowed and defiantly stared back at her; as if sensing what she was intending to do.
The intimacy of the early morning and the memories of the previous night were still potent in his mind. Her demand of his embrace, her use of him, each of the depraved actions he was forced into doing gave the Asur a surge of revulsion. And he loathed the fact that a Druchii had touched and sullied him.
With more bravery then sense Arathar finally spoke, breaking the stillness of the awkward moment and also giving himself a form of relief,
"You're a pitiless and malicious creature Druchii..."
He couldn't control what was going to happen, but he could at least maintain the illusion he had an impact by provoking it. After his words registered the Druchii widened her eyes in surprise.
Raveres paused for the briefest of moments, before letting out a deep animalistic growl. Letting out a scream Rhea hid herself deeper into the bedding as the Druchii dove towards Arathar. Maya pressed herself flat against the wall, watching on, as Raveres brought her right fist high and delivered a loud blow to the Asur's jaw.
Wrapping her raw and damaged left hand around the elf's neck Raveres held him in place as he attempted to fight back, a token wrestling match erupting between the two naked elves as the Druchii continued to batter and strike.
Between the loud cries emphasising each of her hits Raveres declared, mockingly;
"I am pitiless?! I have no such emotions for a creature such as you!"
Arathar, unaccustomed to fighting, failed in protecting himself, and quickly began fearing further retribution for his words.
"Perhaps this will sink it into your skull?!"
Raveres asked; her throat somewhat hoarse from the smoke and alcohol of the night.
"I own your pretty Asurian flesh! You are MINE, and I would sooner see it rent from your body than to let you speak back to me in such a way again."
Arathar's lip was broken and was leaking crimson blood as he coughed and sputtered, thrashing and attempting to escape the blows as Raveres' tightened her thighs around and pressed herself into a mount on his chest.
Letting go of his throat she held her right up threateningly, poised to strike, as she caught her breath and watched the Asur avert his eyes and cower, his face already bruising and swelling from her battery. The male elf was grunting and breathing laboriously as he turned underneath and tried to avoid Raveres' gaze, doing his best also to muffle his involuntary croaks and high-pitched moans of pain.
Reaching towards his scalp the Druchii took a handful of Arathar's hair and yanked him upwards as she rose up from his chest. Leaning towards him Raveres asked slowly and quietly,
"Do you understand me?"
Arathar pursed his bloody lips and shut his eyes as she came mere inches away from his face. She could feel his heartbeat vibrating from his chest into her thighs, savouring the thumping feeling for a moment she finally let go of his hair.
Panting she pressed her forehead to his, shutting her eyes as she breathed. Leaning backwards she nodded before backing up and off of the male slave to stand.
"Good."
Reaching her right hand towards Arathar's cheek she caressed the edge she had hit hardest, moving her thumb lightly along the darkening curve under his left eye. He let out a sharp, shuddering, moan of pain as she touched him and she cooed in response.
Opening her mouth to continue Raveres' words became interrupted by a rapping against the chamber door.
…
"Just wait a moment here"
Yurin said uneasily, "Lady Raveres is as I said…"
He paused and averted his eyes away from the squire. He waited a long moment before speaking candidly, with a voice of exasperation,
"She still quite aggrieved… and I do not know how she will react to seeing you alive."
Jacque pursed his lips and nodded slowly, stealing a glance towards his side at his companion Shen. Exhaling Yurin brought his hand up and waited nervously before striking his knuckles against the chambers of the Druchii.
"My Lady?" Yurin said softly in Druhir.
Bringing the edge of his knuckles to the chamber's door he rapped on it again. Scrutinising the wooden barrier, the three humans waited for several anxious moments before Yurin dared to speak again,
"My Lady, I must speak with you."
There were muffled voices from the other side of the door and the waiting humans heard a loud grunt and moan of pain before heavy footfalls approached from the other side of the door. Jacque drew a breath and eyed the wooden barrier, thinking to himself of how much significance the moment was about to have.
'Did she truly think so much as to revenge my death?' he thought, 'She brought vengeance to Sir Jean's murders and even set out in pursuit of me…'
He stifled a smile and felt a light flutter in his chest before it perverted and chilled.
'But, what about everything else?' he thought soberly.
Before the squire could think of anything else the ornate gilded handle of the door began to move. Twisting in its housing like a dagger, the metal drew open the moment like a wound. Each second was torture as Jacque waited and waited. Eventually the door opened but only a crack, through which only scent escaped.
The air emanated through the slivered breach and the three waiting humans were greeted by a stale odour which resounded and affected each in a different way. Yurin steeled himself and stood firm, biting his tongue and gritting his teeth as he struggled to show no effect.
Shen brought a sleeved hand to cover her mouth and nose as she made an effeminate sigh of surprise. And Jacque's eyes widened as he became doused in a variety of aromas.
The first thing which he noticed was that it was thick, it had permeated into an almost visible fog of smoke from the hanging incense and opium which had been burning almost constantly since the previous day. But mixed with these scents was that of sweat… and sex.
The odour of lust had mixed in and become entwined with all else which was trapped in the room, the air itself having become part of the perverse and sordid affair. It almost reminded Jacque of a barracks after drill, and of the moments when Sir Jean would direct his young charge away from the tents of fellow soldiers and sights which the elder knight described as 'not fit for a child's eyes.'
Yet there was a scent which was familiar in the slew which had hit him. He knew it as Raveres' sweat. And it reminded him of the first time that he met her, now ruining even the nicest memory he had of the Druchii…
Sitting by the small fire under the palms near the shore, listening to her ragged breaths as she slept, her body dried from the salt water but her pores leaking sweat through the thin cloth covering her.
The vivid moment came to him and he remembered the sickness within that smell, and that was what was similar. That smell, it wasn't right then, and he knew that it wasn't right now.
Everything which had escaped the room in that moment was wrong to him and made him want to leave, even though he had wanted to see her. He felt every fibre of his Bretonnian upbringing object. It was sickly, and made more so by the alcohol which was almost palpable through the smoke.
It made the young squire instantly apprehensive and rigid. However, as he brought a hand to his chest, he began hoping in the back of his mind that this foulness would all be dispelled once he saw 'his elf'. His thoughts climbed in vain childishness, and the awkward moment grew the longer the silence continued.
Then he heard her. Her voice sounded through the moment, level and curt it cut through the moment with a strange grace. His heart fluttered at the sound of her speech even though he still didn't understand her words, but his mind would not yet allow him to relax.
Yurin gulped and nodded, pursing his lips as he listened.
…
Staring at the door Raveres furrowed her brow before finally letting go of Arathar's face. Looking down at the male she raised an eyebrow and pointed towards the wooden portal before quietly ordering,
"Open it."
Arathar was wincing in pain and rubbed the blood off his lips before looking up at the Druchii. Parting her lips and baring her teeth in a grimace Raveres repeated herself,
"Open it."
The Asur let out a whimper as he stood up and bent under her gaze, hurriedly making his way to the door handle.
"But a crack." The Druchii mistress added.
Stifling a groan of pain Arathar nodded and unlatched the lock before drawing the door open about an inch. Clearing her throat Raveres straightened her back and took a breath,
"Yurin, why are you daring to rouse me, now? I thought I had made myself clear yesterday."
The already sour air of the morning became rotten after Raveres' words rang out towards the door and she knew her retainer must have been uncomfortable already to be disturbing her.
"My Lady," he began.
Impatiently Raveres interrupted, grunting, "Mhmm, What?"
"There's no easy way to explain, but…" he paused again.
Rolling her eyes Raveres dug the nails of her right hand into her palm, 'Then get to the goddamn point!' she thought petulantly
"T-there's someone here eager to meet with you my lady… well there are two actually."
Raveres scowled and opened her mouth to yell before Yurin finished,
"The boy, he… he lives."
Widening her eyes and taking a half step backwards involuntarily the Druchii felt the sound escape the room as her heart stopped for a beat.
'What? T-that's not possible…' shaking her head from side to side slowly she began whispering aloud, "It's not possible… it's not possible…"
Furrowing her brow and turning around to pace Raveres looked at each of her slaves, Rhea had finally emerged from the bedding, her hair and face a mess from her sobs and fear, Maya was sitting nearer the window, parting the curtains to see the bruises and scratches which now adorned her skin. Turning back around towards the door she saw that Arathar was looking directly at her, his face still and his nose and lips running with blood and loosened mucous. Looking at the sliver of the open door she spoke,
"How?"
Her disbelief and strange fear made her fold her arms and step from foot to foot,
"I saw him dead! How do you say he lives? I saw that he was dead! The squire is dead!"
Yurin waited and cleared his throat with a cough before he spoke up with an explanation,
"That all seems to have been a dying ploy from the… the black knights my Lady. They seemed to have done it deliberately."
Raveres visibly deflated and her shoulders relaxed as she let her folded arms fall to her sides. Wearily she let out a breath, closing her eyes she let her head fall backwards. Her greasy and dirtied hair fell behind her and she stepped backwards stopping only when she felt the cool stone steps of the bath.
Sitting down with a slap she landed against the stone dully and opened her eyes to look upwards.
'Of course…'
Furrowing her brow and smirking hollowly,
'What better way to have wounded me and to have spite me? I showed that bastard knight…'
She felt her cheek twitch with stress.
'I showed him a way to get at me… And even in death he succeeded.'
Shaking her head slowly from side to side she rubbed the back of her head as her inner monologue continued,
'You fool… so attached to your pet and so blind…' She scoffed, 'You reacted exactly as they would have wanted…'
Growling with venom her lip rose and curled in anger as she offered herself some measure of placation 'too bad their gamble hadn't snuffed your skills enough to save them.'
'Fools... Dead, hubris-ridden fools…'
But her moment of relief turned to self-flagellation as her face contorted in silent anger,
'Yet who is the bigger fool than you?'
She growled quietly before her sound broke with emotion,
'You fool… you, stupid, pathetic creature! And more than being deceived you have shown nothing but weakness to these-'
She whispered aloud to herself in desperation, "Silence…"
Scratching her head and flicking her fingers through her hair she growled before leaning forwards and putting her elbows on her knees. Spreading her legs apart and leaning forwards deeper she groaned heavily in regret. But before it took her Yurin's voice came through and dispelled her growing feelings of guilt.
"My Lady, he's here with me."
Raveres caught her breath and stared at the floor for a moment as she confirmed she had heard him correctly. Looking towards the door she thought innocently,
'He's here?'
Disregarding her state of dress, the slaves looking at her, or the smell of sweat, alcohol, and drugs-laden smoke, she felt a compulsion to stand and walk to the door. She had to see Yurin, to see that he wasn't lying; to see that it any of it was true or not.
Coming a few steps to the door she looked at Arathar and waved him away. The Asur bowed his head reluctantly before scurrying to the side and stifling a groan of pain as he brought his hands to cover his mouth. Standing behind the door and slowly reaching towards its handle Raveres found her voice,
"Yurin… turn around and look away, all of you."
The retainer grunted and spoke to whoever else was with him and Raveres heard them comply, shuffling and turning around where they stood; now facing the wall opposite the doorway. Swallowing a dry breath Raveres opened the door more than an inch and carefully peered around the corner of its edge.
The figure closest to the door was that of Yurin's, she easily recognised him even from behind by his short, dark blonde, hair and the clothes he was sporting. Beside him, on his left, stood a smaller figure, and her heart sunk as she knew who it was to be…
His wild, grimy hair, his ill-fitting and marred clothing, the thin limbs of an undernourished pubescent human... Even though he was silent she could hear his voice simply by looking at him through the crack in the door.
His mannerisms, his butchering of her language, that daft book he had read from incessantly. In a flash she pulled herself back and forced the door shut. It loudly resounded in its stone arch as she leant against the wood for support.
"My lady?" Yurin asked, quizzically, his voice as clear to her as if there were no door. Shutting her eyes and nodding the Druchii forced herself to use her tongue,
"I have seen you… What more… what else am I to do?"
Yurin audibly made plain his confusion and Raveres began hitting her forehead to the carved wood of the door. He took a moment before trying to diplomatically answer,
"My lady… perhaps you might… make yourself ready? We've not yet spent a day in leisure? Or attending to your affairs?"
He chuckled nervously,
"There's several things to go over… your crew, the travelling, arrangements, goodbyes, and so on."
Raveres let out a breath, realising what Yurin was doing. Clearing her throat, she coughed and nodded.
"Indeed… I'll be out in a few moments."
"Of course my lady"
Exhaling heavily Raveres leant away from the door and turned to her slaves. Pointing to Rhea still under the sheets on the bed, the Druchii grunted,
"Can you dress another and act a handmaiden?"
Nodding violently the young imperial let out a squeak as she responded her throat was dry and been unused since the night,
"Yes m-my lady."
Raveres stepped away from the entrance and nodded, waving the human forwards.
"Come, I ought to be presentable."
Rhea reluctantly let the covers fall from around her face and body as she emerged from her hideaway.
"Arathar, sit yourself on the bed."
The male had been turned away and was nursing his face to the side of the chamber, nearer the bath. At Raveres' order he nodded once before languidly walking towards the mattress. Raising her hands from her sides into the air, Raveres winced as she looked over her sunburnt forearms and the awkward tan line from her gauntlets.
'How long before this goes down?' she wondered.
Think of the burns and of the previous day reminded the she-elf of the court physician, and his recommendation. Looking to the bottles and phials on the edge of the bath Raveres scanned the various jars until she saw the small, stout, clay pot which the doctor had left her.
Pointing to Maya the Druchii raised her voice, getting both the southlander and the imperial's attention.
"Rhea, tell that one to rub ointment upon me."
The demure blonde human was gulping and struggling to locate the discarded pieces of the Druchii's underclothes. Glancing up from her work she looked at her waiting mistress, nodding emphatically,
"Yes, my lady…"
With her hands filled with slipper and trousers she was hoping were Raveres', Rhea turned to her fellow slave and issued the translated demand. Maya looked from the imperial to Raveres. The Druchii pointed with a nod of her head to the bath's edge, where the jar of salve Sadalsuud's court physician had given, her sat.
Drawing a careful breath through her nose Maya looked from the jar to her owner, to Rhea, and then to Arathar, before moving finally. Quietly, and without any outward hesitation, the tanned, former, nomad complied with the order and took up the jar. Opening it she began carefully applying the contents to Raveres' exposed flesh with familiarity.
Cooing and letting out sharp breaths of surprise Raveres shut her eyes and nodded, before thinking aloud,
"After I am dressed, I want you all presentable as well… I know not what Yurin hopes to accomplish today, but hopefully it will be regarding the expediency with which I can leave this hot, sandy-" biting her tongue Raveres let out a breath, "Place."
Rhea's eyes widened and she wanted to groan in exacerbation as she continued gathering up the articles of Raveres' clothing, occasionally she'd look to Arathar, Maya, or Raveres herself in disbelief.
'This is… this is- please gods, Sigmar, tell me this isn't to be normal?'
Looking over the discarded pieces of the Druchii's armour she finally located Raveres' blouse and continued,
'There ought to be some semblance of routine to this crea- I mean… to… to her. But this… she's! I… gods… this is far worse a feeling than the others had told me…'
Bringing the clothing to Raveres' feet the imperial set to dressing her new mistress, and all the while the Druchii spoke her thoughts aloud, falling into the familiarity of being dressed and tended to her confidence grew.
Visions of Elianna and the others back home made Raveres swell and calm from earlier and her mind wandered from topic to topic as she attempted to process the list of things which had happened her stay in Araby so far… With a smirk she chuckled as she spoked aloud,
"I wonder… now that I do truly intend to leave. Will Sadalsuud make any kind of intonations?"
Raveres laughed and as Rhea helped her into her trousers the human furrowed her brow as surreptitiously as possible.
'She's… she's utterly different now!?'
Sighing and looking down as Rhea put on her slippers Raveres held her breath as she moved her hand down towards the human's chin. The sudden and unexpected touch made the female pause, her eyes widening in fear and surprise.
"Rhea, I enjoy you… In fact I enjoy each of you. However should you continue to be my handmaid you would do well to wear your thoughts less plainly."
Rhea was frozen and stared ahead motionless, as the Druchii's fingers rubbed her chin. Her voice caught in her throat as she nodded,
'Apologise! Apologise now!' she thought madly.
"I will my lady! I-"
Tilting her head and shifting her expression Raveres coldly cut off the young woman.
"Shush…"
Maya was about finished coating the Druchii's burned flesh when her mistress sighed and waved her off too. Finally letting go of the human's chin Raveres looked straight ahead, past the two slaves, as she spoke,
"Forget the clothes I'll finish. Brush my hair and then see to yourselves."
…
Rhea's hands were at first unsteady and shaking as she drew the comb through her mistress' hair, but eventually her breathing steadied, her movements calmed, and the process took on some normalcy.
Raveres' hair was all drawn backwards and tied into a long braid, the Druchii smirking and merely offering a silent nod of approval as the slave went about the imperial style. Her nervousness made her rely on the easiest thing she could do with her mistress' hair. When finished Rhea stepped away and bowed her head as Raveres tied the V of her blouse closed and armed herself.
'Perhaps I ought to just leave them here?' she wondered as she looked over her currently unimpressive, dishevelled, and odorous slaves. Rhea was looking down at her feet as she attempted to find her second slipper when Raveres decided to offer the creatures a strange reprieve.
"I intend to council with my retainer, see to my affairs, and other such business."
Clarifying the thoughts aloud made the Druchii turn towards the door with a surer step.
"You three are to stay here, I shan't call on you today. At least I don't imagine I will."
Looking over her shoulder the she-elf raised one of her thin, elven, brows.
"I'll make provision for your base needs to be seen to."
Rhea and Arathar both looked at the Druchii with expressions of confusion. But without any further dwelling Raveres stepped towards the door, took hold of the heavy handle, and exited her chamber for the world outside.
When she stepped through the doorway Raveres had to put on a face of total and utter stone. Control, measurement, and stiffness would be necessary to make it through with some semblance of her honour's appearance intact.
Speaking among one another quietly, to the left of the doorway somewhat down the hall, was Yurin, the boy… and the third figure from before.
Closing the door behind her with a pull the Druchii exhaled calmly,
'You are a noble of Naggarond…' she whispered to herself, 'this is nothing.'
Yurin turned from the conversation and bowed his head at the neck, his voice hesitated somewhat as he spoke, but he offered the curtesy all the same,
"Good morning my lady."
Raveres tilted her head in acknowledgement as she came a few feet into the hallway. Jacque turned from Yurin and his face lit up as he at first smiled, but immediately pursed his lips and nodded his head in respect. His face was dirty from sand; he had the telltale signs of fight across his cheeks in the form of nicks and bruises, but there was a strange pain behind his gaze as Raveres finally looked into his eyes.
Their meeting was so strange and uncomfortable that time paused for a moment.
'He… he does live.' Raveres finally thought.
She was about to furrow her brow when Yurin finally interjected,
"My lady, in addition to Jacque there is his companion whom wishes to meet you."
The voice of her premiere retainer snapped her out of the daze and Raveres blinked as she looked away from the features of the young Breton to regard her taller, erudite, seneschal. Furrowing her brow Yurin moved his hand and indicated the fourth person present.
To Jacque's right side stood a disheveled, dirty, bruised and tired looking woman. Raveres' saw nothing yet out of sorts with this, until she looked up at the human's face. As she looked from the squire to the unknown female Yurin narrated an introduction. And Raveres' did her best to hide her surprise at the physical features of the human.
"This companion of Jacque's is both a friend and rescuer to the young squire. Her name is Shen."
At hearing her name among the Druhir words the woman nodded and bowed, adding a slight curtsey to her movement.
"I've spoken with both in my chambers, and they've told me what transpired during their encounter and experience with the false knights and the mercenaries…"
Raveres nodded, but couldn't help but look at Shen with a strange xenophobia. Furrowing her brow, the Druchii now made no effort to hide her study of the Oriental's face.
Jacque looked from Raveres to Shen with a quizzical expression and the human woman averted her eyes from the Druchii. Interrupting her retainer Raveres spoke, her voice cold and almost concerned,
"Wherefrom does she hail?"
Yurin paused and was about to answer when the she-elf threw out another question.
"She doesn't speak Druhir or Asurian does she?"
At this whether it was coincidence or not Shen looked up and met Raveres' gaze. The human's eyes had an elusive darkness to them, and Raveres at once knew not to trust her. Yurin shook his head,
"No my lady, she said that she doesn't from our meeting she detailed that she speaks Bretonnian, her own tongue, and some Arabyan."
Raveres looked to the man briefly.
"As for where she's from, while we were in my chambers Shen revealed that she's from the Far East, past the kingdoms of Ind, and the steppe."
Looking away from the mysterious woman to Jacque the Druchii tensed further as the young squire spoke. Yurin looked to him and nodded before issuing the translation. As he spoke, Jacque blinked rapidly and did his best to remain straight backed.
"He says that… He and his companion have struck an agreement. We spoke of this too in my chambers. And that as he has learned you were to return Sir Jean's body to Bretonnia, you would also permit his and his companion's passage upon your vessel."
Raising a brow Raveres looked from the squire to the woman and then to Yurin,
"Indeed…"
Jacque cleared his throat and chuckled before speaking more. Yurin nodded and repeated the next sentences,
"He jests that you might have had trouble finding where to discharge Sir Jean along the coast… Not knowing our home in our country, and Sir Jean having become a silent passenger."
Jacque smiled awkwardly, but the corners of his eyes crinkled in pain. The dark humour, or attempt therein, being an obvious attempt to cope. Yurin winced; obviously the quick delivery and intonation hadn't translated properly.
Raveres stood quietly and stilly. Jacque's expression faltered and his breath caught in his throat before the Druchii finally made a noise, and dispelled the moment.
"Well." Turning to Yurin the she-elf offered a strange half-smile, "I don't think that it would be an issue to have them on board?"
When the retainer repeated the words Jacque's face lit up once again as he nodded and smiled emphatically, his eyes watered and the young man released a subdued and excited squeak. Jumping forwards the squire wrapped his arms around Raveres' midsection in an embrace.
Yurin's eyes widened, Shen brought a hand to her mouth in surprise and Raveres drew in a sharp breath of pain as the squire pressed against the stitched wounds in her abdomen.
Shutting her eyes and grunting Raveres stifled a groan as she spoke, "Yurin!"
Immediately the retainer stepped forwards, hastily speaking in Jacque's language as he gestured for the boy to let go. His eyes wide and profusely apologising the young human spoke as best as he could while backing away in concern. Wincing and straightening the Druchii shook her hand while pointing down the hall,
"Yurin let's just… tell him to shut up and instead tell me his story as we walk."
Yurin nodded while watching the she-elf,
"A-as you wish, but milady are you sure you-"
"I'm fine…" Raveres croaked, her voice stiff as she stepped ahead, "Come on, I ought to walk around a bit anyway…"
…