Chapter 20
"No wait, let me make sure you are healed and allow me to try and help you." M'lar sighed and stepped back and looked over at the dress and then down at her body that was showing signs of bruising, scratching and ill use. "I am fine Olorian really, I am getting ready to leave the city so if you will forgive me and allow me to leave."
She moved to pick up the dress and to pass him when he put a gentle hand on her shoulder and he saw her reaction. She gasped in fear and jerked back with a look of terror in her eyes. He immediately released her shoulder and stepped back. "I am sorry I meant no harm."
M'lar trembled and nodded not trusting her voice or the need to want to cry. Holding the towel close and taking the dress and tucking it under her arm she moved past him. "Thank you Olorian. I will leave you to your business now if you will excuse me."
She moved with leaden legs to her room and tucked the dress under her bed. Grabbing her clothing she tucked them into her backpack, tied up her hair and slipped on her gnomish armor and boots. She did it automatically not giving it any thought as she moved like an automaton to prepare for her trip across island.
Kait breezed into her room and chattered away, "Where did you go? Jade said you left over two hours ago and I thought you were going to wait for Yielder and me to return to escort you back here. Oh you are dressed, so should we go to temple?"
M'lar heard half of what she said and she nodded, not making much in comments in return while she moved about the room and stopped looked at Kait then moved to hug her "I love you sister, if you know nothing else about me, I love you with all my heart and I would give my life to see you safe and never hurt."
Kait was suddenly alert to the quiet way her sister was acting and this sudden outburst was nothing at all like her and she smiled, "I know that dear. Just as I love you and would never see you hurt either."
M'lar sighed and mumbled under her breath, "To late."
Kait caught it and frowned, "What is too late?"
M'lar covered her slip up and said softly, "Its getting late perhaps we will leave at dawn sister, did you bring your things?"
Kait nodded, "Oh yes and I think that is a much better idea to wait until dawn. Will be leave from here or Temple?"
M'lar spoke softly, "Temple. But I want to sleep here tonight Kait, you can sleep in Gilly's room again, I know Jodi took her to Temple."
Kait sighed, "Well I see you have bathed already so I will go and get my bath and we can have a little chat and then we can sleep when we get tired."
M'lar sighed, "Kait I am pretty tired now I think I am going on to bed, tomorrow is going to be rough because I want to make up time we loose by leaving later and will try to get in forty miles tomorrow."
Kait frowned, "If that is what you want to do sister that is fine by me. You go on to bed, you do look tired." She moved to her sister's side and kissed her forehead. "You get some rest dear." And blithely ignorant of what had just happened to her sister, Kait went off to the bathing chambers humming softly and happy as a lark.
M'lar struggled against the darkness that hung like a cloak of evil around her, then she heard the twang of the bow as the arrow was released and felt the shaft zip past her and pin her to the ground. The darkness was coming to take her and she could do nothing to stop it and then there it was again the pain and the degradation of being taken so savagely and finally there was nothing.
She lay in her gown soaked with her night sweat from her nightmare, she was sure she heard a whimper and woke to hear it from her own throat an unrecognizable sound one of terror and freight. She must have gone to war with her blankets and pillow for they lay on the floor and she lay panting with her own agony of the nightmare she just had.
Silently she screamed out to the world she would be able to survive this, she had survived the hunters and the death hounds of her home world and now this she would survive this too. Rolling over she looked to the door where she knew Kait slept and was grateful she had not heard her whimpers or her cry of terror.
She had to make sure that she would not ever tell anyone what had happened. It was too degrading and too much of a humiliation. If Shayla wanted to be with this creature that had no right to breathe let alone love, she would put as much distance between Shay and Darrin as she could. The fishing village was becoming more attractive with each passing moment.
Rising she looked at the mantle clock and saw daylight was another two hours away. She would spend this time packing the provisions they would take on this ride to the fishing village. Getting up and dressing with care to hide the bruises and the scratches she moved with soreness she had never known before down the steps to the kitchen.
Here in this place she felt safe, there were dishes to be done and she could use the motion of doing the dishes to calm her mind and give her a sense of normalcy. She had just set the last plate in the drain side of the sink when she heard a voice from behind. "You can talk to me about it."
M'lar jumped, gasped and spun around seeing the tall handsome form of the Ranger Olorian standing in the doorway behind her. Feeling her heart race and her face flush she lowered her gaze to the floor and shook her head.
"Nothing to tell, just a bit nervous about this trip we are about to take across island." Olorian crossed his strong muscled arms over his chest and frowned, "You know my goddess expects certain requirements from me. I know your god does expect you to be truthful." M'lar flushed and turned her back on him.
"I am being truthful." Her voice held resentment when she became defensive. "M'lar you are not worried about this trip something bad happened to you and you are keeping silent. It is the worse thing you could do."
M'lar felt the burn of tears taking a deep breath and let it out slowly, "No Olorian there are far worse things that can happen and they have and I kept silent and I have survived because I kept silent. In this instance it is for me to deal with and I do not need your help. I do so appreciate your kindness and your tenderness and compassion but sometimes bad things happen for a reason and maybe we deserve them."
She had said it, there is was the true reason she was going to keep silent about what happened. She truly felt because of what she had done in Tarin's temple the balance of nature returned and what had delivered upon her retribution. She needed to accept what had happened to her and deal with her own past.
Then she felt it, the warm touch so gentle so soothing not holding any malice. A warm, tender, caring touch that now felt like a burning punishment and she jumped. The hands clamped down tighter to prevent her from pulling away. "M'lar you were hurt, whether or not you choose to accept the fact that no one should be treated as I suspect you were treated, you will bear this guilt and this hurt. Don't do this to yourself, you are far too nice to be put through this kind of hell."
As quickly as those strong arms had held her she felt the pressure was gone and now she was standing alone. Left alone in the kitchen to wrestle with her thoughts. Edging into her mind was also the words he had spoken to her.
Why would he make her think of it when all she wanted to do was forget? It happened now all she wanted was to go on with life as if it had never happened. She wanted to believe that she could have a happy life, find love, be treated with kindness, be a grandmother and then die.
That is all she wanted to be left alone by the Scro Navy, to not be pursued for being what was impossible and to just be normal. As normal as she could be for who and what she was. Right at this moment all she wanted was To find a life with her god. She just wanted to be. . . Then she stopped her thoughts and sighed softly. She wanted to be accepted.
Moving about the kitchen she made the dough for the bread and set it to rise and then started the mid day meal preparations. Finishing up, she picked up her packs and moved to the common room. Standing in the middle of the room she looked around the area and closed her eyes tightly.
She was going to miss the people that she had come to respect and love; she was going to miss this place, it had brought her a lot of happiness. She looked at the bar and recalled the night she stood on that bar and began to dance in a sultry manner. A dance that she had seen at a cantina one night when the monks had taken her out incognito so she could get a glimpse of the outside world from the temple.
The monks had taken her to a cantina. She had been so excited at the thought of getting out of Temple. She had to promise to keep the cloak up the whole time they were out so no one could tell she was a female let alone a half-breed.
Once they arrived at the cantina the male hawker had announced that they were going to witness something special this night. The hawker bragged they had a former Priestess of Gruumsh. She had learned the dance of death. Tonight for this audience she was going to perform the nine knives of death a very special dance.
M'lar was intrigued because she had cut her teeth on this particular exercise and it was not so much a dance as a test and endurance for balance and agility. She had been a natural at performing the exercise and she was interested in wanting to observe another perform this 'dance'
She sat and watched as this sultry wench moved to the center of the dance floor. In the background the stage manager had added sounds of the primal beatings of the drums and musical instruments.
M'lar frowned this was not how they had done it at temple where she was had trained. But she kept an open mind and continued to watch. The wench that was no more a former priestess than she was full scro began to gyrate, swaying her hips and shaking her shoulders to make her breasts jiggle.
These actions seemed to incite the males in the audience but brought a grumble from her party. M'lar was patient and waited. When the dancer finally got around to the flipping of the knives; M'lar noted that she only made a half hearted attempt at flipping knives.
She also noted that the knives held a strange looking quality to them. Not at all like the ones she had secreted on her body. M'lar was disgusted that not only did she not respect the exercise she was catching the knives wrong. It was beginning to annoy her to no end.
When the dancer had missed one knife and it landed on the floor and bounced she noticed that it was made of a rubbery substance and there was no real danger to her dying should she miss her catch.
M'lar so incensed and outraged by this mockery of something that the true followers of Gruumsh practiced and held sacred stood up and shouted at her, "Faker! You know nothing!" That outburst had cost her dearly, because the wench then challenged the hooded female to come forward and show them how it was done since she seemed to know so much about the sacred dance.
The monks muttered softly amongst themselves arguing over whether they should allow M'lar to show these pathetic dogs how the art was really performed. The main argument was over the challenge had been issued. That is where the true nature of the scro breed came into play and it was now becoming a matter of honor.
M'lar turned to Torin and spoke softly, "If I wear the mask and keep my face covered then surely there should be no problems to allow me to show them the true nature of this exercise father." He was conflicted she was good at the death knives and she should have a chance to show this ungrateful group that she was talented.
So overriding the common sense that he usually used in these situations he nodded and stood with her and the other monks blocked the view of others as they took a scarf and made a mask of it and slipped it over and around her head so none could see her true identity.
Moving to the center of the room, she had collected the nine knives of her fellow monks. She stuck the knives in her belt. Moving to the dancer she jerked her knives and turned bending them to show they were not real. This sent a murmur about the room that forced the resentful dancer to step back in the shadows.
M'lar moved to the center stage and slipped off her cloak. She stood in her simple attire of breeches and tunic, none of which hid her charms. Those were the same charms that had been hidden beneath the shapeless robes. Her glorious auburn hair cascaded down her back and she was striking even more striking than the scantily clad female that had tried to entertain these fools.
To show she really had sharp knives she threw them one at a time into the floor pinning them with a thunk and a little wobble back and forth to show they truly were sharp blades. She had made a half circle with the knives and then she waited.
She listened to the beat of the drum and ignored the rest of the the string instruments and began to move as a practiced martial artist, sliding forward to grab one knife and pull it free to flip it into the air. The eyes of the audience were transfixed watching the figure throw the knife with precision into the air. Holding their breaths with anticipation as the knife flipped end over end to give into gravity and come careening down towards the figure now bent to invite the point of the knife to impale itself into her neck.
The point just touching her throat she caught the blade spun and pinioned it into the stage floor. With each fluid moment that was more graceful than the dance the other had used was mesmerizing. The male audience was held in place with each move, subtle, graceful, and deadly.
She performed the same actions for nine successive turns taking the knives to spin then into the air to watch them descend to her throat or heart only to be caught and thrown to the floor.
For the end of the exercise she had taken the extra steps of facing all nine knives. Scooping all nine knives she sent them flipping end over end into the air at the same time and stood with back bent and waited as they descended to the stage and towards her body. The pitch had been a series of wrist and hand action. She leaned back closed her eyes and waited. The knives landed forming a perfect outline of her body except for the ninth knife.
That knife was coming straight for the center of her eyes. Watching the point come to the bridge of her nose, M'lar's hand shot out catching the last one of the nine.
The crowd began to stomp and cheer and call out "Show your self! Show your self!" M'lar collected her knives and retreated to the other monks. They covered her with a robe when from the side she felt the end of her mask tugged and she was unveiled.
There was a gasp as they all looked at her and then the room was in chaos. Torin had punched the dancer who had unveiled M'lar for what he figured was spite and anger. He called out to hurry and leave. The monks surrounded M'lar's small body and hurried to get her out of the range of those that wanted to take her for ransom.
The purist wanted to kill her for her impure blood. That had been the last time that Torin had allowed her out of temple. A time she would never forget because she actually had a chance to see what life was like outside temple and how those of her brethren had lived. She remembered the excitement of being able to experience this time and she felt the hatred of those that wanted to use her for their own means.
Take a deep breath she inhaled in the scents that surrounded her and at one time represented security, the laughter that filled this bar now filled her mind. Slowly opening her eyes M'lar studied the bar. Something had been lost and she knew that night in the cantina had taught her self-restraint and to not voice her opinion.
She had for a small duration of time forgotten the disaster of that venture to the cantina. Filled with the wine and having a good time she had done her own version of that dance.
A night not so long ago she had stood on the bar and she knew as she had danced she was moving her body much as that wench had to entice, to arouse and to please the males that looked at her. Oh how wrong she had been, she had been drinking and had gotten tipsy and was caught up with the patrons one particular one wanted to party with her.
"You are fun my dear. Come lets dance the night away and drink! Drink to all and any that want to have fun!"
She danced and drank with him, to the point she was intoxicated enough she went to the lake to swim naked under the moonlight. It was then she discovered her merry making would be lover was a god visiting the mortals on Toril.
Even when he told her his name it meant nothing to her but a man that could hold his drink well and dance. "My dear what is your name?"
She laughed and splashed him with the water dove under and tugged on his toes and tickled his feet to bob up next to him and wrap her legs around his waste feeling his instant arousal. His eyes danced in an eerie glow and his smile was as intoxicating as the wine they had consumed. "What do names matter? We are here under the moonlight and the water is perfect."
He laughed, "I should at least know the name of the enchantres that had completely beguiled me with her beauty and her intense love for wine!"
"Oh pish posh! If you insist!" she was sure as soon as he heard her name he would have heard of her and would want to put distance between them.
"Oh allow me to introduce myself to you first my dear!" He had risen out of the water to stand on its surface in all his naked glory. "I am Dionysus. The god of Wine and song, the god that believes in fun and more wine!" He laid back and hit the water with a huge splash.
M'lar laughed so hard she dove under to find him only to discover he had disappeared. She had never seen him from that day forward and wondered about a man with an odd name and the love of wine and fun. It was not until much later she discovered he was one of many gods that sometimes visited the mortals because he was bored.
Alas she never saw him again after that night but she was for a night the goddess to his godhood and they had danced and drank and had a wonderfully good time. He never learned her name, which for her was a good thing.
She pivoted on the balls of her feet locking away memories of this place that had been her home. She was clinging to memories knowing her intentions were she was of going away and not returning.
With a stronger resolve than she had before because of what had happened last night. She had more than enough reason to not wish to return. Standing in the empty bar she began weigh the pros and cons of her not returning to this town.
Mentally she ticked them off and found for this moment there were far too many pros of staying in the Fishing Village. Moving along the room, she picked up her packs and put them by the door. It was an anticlimactic feeling of leaving this place she had loved so much.
Hearing a little noise she turned looking up to see Kait, sleepy eyed and packed ready to go. "Good morning Sister are you ready for our big adventure?"
Kait moved lethargically down the steps, "I am not so sure I am ready, do we have to go?"
M'lar shook her head. "Kait you don't need to follow me across the island to the Fishing Village, you can stay here if you wish and help take care of Gillian."
Kait smiled and looked happily to the upstairs and the bed she knew she had just left which was still warm from her body. "You won't be sad or mad if I don't go?"
M'lar shook her head, "No sweet sister you can go back to bed."
Kait happily moved to hug M'lar and spoke softly, "You be safe and return home soon." M'lar nodded and then turned picking up her bags she moved towards the door and paused looking up at Kait and sighed, "I love you dear sister, never doubt that and I am going to miss you."
She turned to move out of the door before she let Kait see the tears forming in her eyes. Kait had made it back to her bed and crawled in and began to drift off when it dawned on her the sound of her voice and the tone in which she said she loved her and was going to miss her.
In that moment of realization was slightly afraid that M'lar was not coming back to this side of the island. Kait thoughts were conflicted when sleep took her over she pushed aside the silly thought. Every thing she cared about was here. Soon her head was filled with dreams of strong sexy Vikings coming to carry her off.
With the sun climbing higher in the sky Kait awoke to a silent room and yawned and stretched, rolling out of bed she tromped out to M'lar's bedroom and moved to her dressing table and reached for her brush. Dropping it n the floor she watched dismayed as it bounced and tumbled under M'lar's bed.
"Darmola," she muttered under her breath and moved on all fours to retrieve it. It lay on the edge of one of M'lar's dresses. Reaching to pull the dress out she frowned noting it was the dress she had worn yesterday. "Why is this under the bed?"
She moved to the closet to hang it up and discovered most of M'lar's clothing was now gone and a hint of a panic now gripped Kait as she moved about the room and found evidence that M'lar was gone and it appeared she was not coming back.
Shaking out the yellow dress she paused and her face paled as she looked at the blood soaked dress. The area that had been blood soaked was where no woman would wish to bleed that much unless she was giving birth. Something horrible had to happen to her dear sister for there to be that much blood. Looking at the hem of the dress she saw the holes. Running her finger through the holes she wondered at what could have caused such a thing.