Chapter 13:
Orzsebet the Agent Princess looked the business in a sexy, knee-length dress that hugged her frame. Her short-and-sassy haircut, lipstick in a deep red, and eye-shadow completed the look, suggesting that the Lady of Spies was going to a social event. She certainly didn't look like somebody who'd been up all night, working.
More to the point, it was a look that threatened to raise the one-eyed monster. With her youth restored, Finn could see how she seduced and betrayed so many men over the course of her life. Dark eyes smoldering, with hips broadened by pregnancy, she made quite the picture, as she strode up to him.
In spite of the way she was dressed, she was businesslike, announcing, "I've sent men to the last warehouse, sire. I don't have enough to be... effective. They'll have to watch only..." Ironically, she reminded him a lot of Jake Junior in that moment. He couldn't help thinking of the way JJ had kept him out of trouble at Kun-som.
Interrupting her, Finn cupped her narrow chin in his hand. "The King commands the Lady of Spies to be careful of her person," Finn announced.
The trembling started then. No matter how she tried, he did that to her. It was the first sign of the danger she now faced. Equal parts terror and lust, the unsettling feelings coursing through her shattered any hope of remaining calm.
If that wasn't enough, his words wanted to make the trembling worse. She'd come to a startling realization. As impersonal as those words were, the warmth of his voice told that he did value her.
Reaching up, she took hold of his square face and pulled him down to her. Gluing her thin lips to his, the slinky spy-girl kissed him with all the passion in her slim body. Breaking contact, the Agent Princess murmured, "when next we speak, I wish to talk about those matters I raised..."
With no further word, the slinky spy-girl turned and strode off towards the airship that was waiting to carry her and her contingent, never once looking back. The way those hips wig-wagged reminded him of the way she'd come to him in the camp outside the city of the dead.
Orzsebet had danced for him, and he'd been shocked to realize that somewhere, somehow, she'd taken lessons. His mistress had been natural and uninhibited. More to the point, she'd been sexy. With her newly-youthful body and those new, child-bearing hips of hers, she'd been dynamite, just like her proposal.
Glob save me from the madness that is woman, Finn thought, as he wiped lipstick from his face. "Amen," muttered his bodyguard. Finn flushed, as he realized that he'd spoken aloud. Shaking his head and muttering curses, Finn turned to board his own ship.
As the King set out to chase down one of the leads, his wife was already up and hard at work on the task she'd taken herself. She'd summoned the leader of the soldiers her guides had borrowed from the local noble. Now, it was time to plan what they were going to do and how they'd get home with their cases intact.
"I'm not a soldier, captain," the pillow-person declared. "I know nothing about war. That was my husband's world. I need you to advise me on the best way to do this." Tapping the map of the warehouse, the plush woman said, "we need to get inside. We need to keep the men there from leaving, so that my husband's informers can question them. And we need to find any stolen war-machine parts. Clear?"
The soldier stared at her a moment. Roselinen could see in his eyes what he thought. She'd been guilty of thinking those same things. "We're not so different, captain," the plump woman remarked. "My husband saw many a man who regarded talent as being attached to a title or name rather than earned and learned over time. I'm new at this. Let's work together, so that your men can get home to their families."
Snapping to attention, the soldier offered her a crisp salute. Moving forward, he explained, "the walls are thick to discourage thievery and to protect against the worst storms. We're beyond my land's fifth ring road. My lord's rule here is..." "...tenuous," Rosie agreed. "It's something my husband intends to correct, captain. Who owns this place?"
"A foreigner," the captain responded. "A man from over the sea. He's wealthy, and he speaks our tongue fluently. There are those who say he's blood of the legendary dragon-horses that inhabited our land before they ascended to a different plane..." "Do you have a name," Rosie interrupted? "No, lady," he responded. "Maybe we'll find something inside," Rosie sighed. "What do you suggest here?"
"We need to get a hole in the wall," the captain sighed. "Battering it will take time, though. It'll cost many lives." With a smile, Rosie responded, "I can provide a means to... bypass the wall, captain. What else is needed?" Imagining she would use sorcery, the soldier explained, "there will be crates, laid out in a pattern, usually filled with trash, serving as inner defense. We'll have to maneuver our way through the maze to here. The valuable goods will be in the very center, with slightly less valuable goods here as one final obstacle."
Nodding to herself, Rosie announced, "then that's where we'll go. The center. How many guards? Do we know?" Frowning at her confidence, the soldier said, "they are believed to have forty men, though there's been an influx of strangers coming and going lately. They arrived with the strange caravan that you asked after." "Guards for the items we seek," Rosie surmised.
Looking up at him, she said, "they'll have those firearm things, captain. Can your soldiers manage that?" The soldier gulped. "I'll take that as a no," Rosie sighed. Nodding to herself, she said, "a lot of this will be on me, then. I'll draw their attention to myself..."
The soldier's eyes got big, telling her what flavor of heresy she'd just spoken, and Roselinen found herself thinking of Persemon. She didn't imagine Persemon had been anywhere near a battlefield. Of course, neither had Rosie until very recently. More to the point, where the wife of Lord Woolcot was a very ordinary pillow-person, Roselinen had her strange power to protect her.
"We'll be fine, captain," Rosie murmured. "Trust me on that. Maneuver your soldiers in the manner that keeps them alive." The captain nodded. She was in command here, so he would follow her play.
Back in the west, Princess Dowager Odessa sauntered into the little office that the King's odious wood-nymph daughter occupied. The King of Ooo's notorious secret policeman was seated behind a desk, dressed head-to-toe in black leather. Gone was the natty purple dress, suggesting that this wasn't a social call. Not that Odessa treated even social visits as anything but business.
As she settled into the seat before the desk, Odessa greeted the little woman with a cheery, "good afternoon, Your Highness." "Princess Odessa," Star responded. "How may I serve the crown," Odessa murmured.
Resting her arms on the desk, Star Mertens locked her aquamarine eyes on Odessa's, decalring, "this thing of popping bankers has to stop." Odessa offered her a quirked eyebrow. She'd expected to be discussing the business with the bandits in the Bandit Kingdoms and her red-herring for where the adulterated food came from. Her keen mind went back to the business with the bourgeois of her kingdom threatening her plans with their antics. She'd assumed the matter concluded.
"I'm not a fan of these guys," the little murderess muttered. "Not a fan of their boss, either. My cousin's a dickhead, without a lick of common sense. But you're not allowed to butcher them without cause. Not here."
When Odessa opened her mouth to speak, the nymph rumbled, "save it. An elemental smoked three guys in the last week or so. I have pictures of an elemental smoking some dudes outside your palace at your command."
Sitting back in her chair and crossing her legs artfully, the evil grandma put on a winsome smile and responded, "a contractor, Your Highness. Surely, you understand. You were a contractor at one point, too." The nymph flushed to her scalp.
Taking advantage of the hit she'd scored, Odessa leaned forward a little and said, "brass tacks... I hired someone to deal with people who were guilty of crimes edging towards treason. In point of fact, I did you a favor. They were scheming towards the disruption of the bond markets, with an eye towards disrupting the function of your father's rule. I consider that matter closed. Any issues pertaining to the three you speak of have nothing to do with me. I'd go looking in the underworld, if I were you."
As the little nymph digested that, Odessa uncrossed her legs and rose. "I imagine our business is concluded, Your Highness," said she. "Good day." Rising belatedly, Star responded, "good day, Your Highness."
As she made her way back through the twists and turns of the Candy Palace, Odessa's mind was on the next confrontation. Truly, she had nothing to do with the issue that woman was talking about. Unfortunately, she had a pretty good idea who did have a stake in the matter.
The Princess Dowager had been expecting this situation to materialize for a long time. Her young protégé was wild and almost reckless, such that Odessa had begun to think that maybe there was some truth to her speculation. It hardly seemed as if Marysia Okonski could be blood-related to Laiurenty and Olesia Okonski, when those two seemed so thoughtful and put together.
Odessa couldn't help thinking that the wild-child had a different father. Unfortunately, those wild ways left Odessa having to confront her wayward employee. Fortunately, Odessa had already taking steps to prepare for an eventual confrontation.
As the sun was climbing the sky in the east, a singular figure strolled up to Choi Hul's Bonded Warehouse. Dressed in a long, flowing white gown, with a soft scarf drawn up over her head in conservative fashion, the pretty blonde cut quite the figure. Heels click-clacking on the ground, her round bottom wig-wagging sensually, she reminded many a passerby of the legendary Fionna the Human Girl.
Skirt swishing in time with her every step, the stranger sauntered up to the door. Grasping the knocker, she rapped once on the heavy wooden portal and waited. Time flowed into infinity for a few moments before finally a small wooden panel slid open. A muddy green-brown eye peered out at her. "Yes," responded the warehouse guard?
The world shifted in that moment. One moment, there was the strange girl standing before the door. The next, there was a beautiful, green meadow where the door had been. As the pretty stranger strode forward, dozens of soldiers rushed up behind her. The folk on the street stared in shock. No-one had seen so many of their lord's soldiers in one place in years.
Momentarily, the strange scene shimmered. In a flash of light, the meadow and the soldiers were gone, revealing the shocking sight of a pair of arms and a tortured face jutting out of the door as if their owner had merged with the wood.
Standing in the vast open space that was the target warehouse, Bonnie Mertens got her bearings. "This way," she announced, as she stepped off into the maze. The terrified soldiers crowded up behind her. They weren't quite sure how this strange power of hers worked, and nobody wanted to get lost in a brick wall or something.
Rounding a corner, the luscious blonde ran straight into a pair of guards walking patrol. "Who the fuck are you," demanded the man on the left? In heavily accented Korean, the pretty woman responded, "I'll ignore the impoliteness of your question. I wish to see the man in charge." Her conversational matter suggested she was merely asking directions.
The reaction was anything but conversational. Both men grabbed for their weapons. Before they could fire, the pretty blonde was standing toe to toe with them. Dagger flicking out, she eviscerated the man on the left before slashing the tendons in the other man's arms, leaving him crippled.
In the blink of an eye, she was back where she'd been standing. As the wounded man stared down at his bloody arms, she murmured, "take me to the person in charge, and I'll forget how rude you were." The sight of the corpse that had been his best friend, sprawled on the warehouse floor with his innards laying beside him, convinced the injured man to comply.
The wounded guard shuffled along, leading his assailants through the spiraling maze that was the warehouse, finally emerging in the secure space in the very center. There were roughly twenty men in the space and the firearms scattered about the room told that they weren't very nice people. Indeed, several bore scars and signs that they'd lived a rough life indeed.
With a hand on her patsy, Bonnie strode forward, announcing, "hello. I'm Princess Bonnibel. On behalf of the King of Ooo, I extend greetings and an offer of just treatment in exchange for your surrender..."
"Chang," growled a squat, thick fellow?! "What the fuck are you doing bringing this cunt in here?!" "You must be the leader," Bonnie rumbled. There was a momentary flash of light and the loud man had become one with the paving stones and earth beneath his feet. As the others goggled, Bonnie remarked, "he's dead, I'm afraid... I'd honestly suggest you surrender..."
"Kill that bitch," shouted a second man. Momentarily, their foes leveled firearms at Bonnie and her companions and let fly. For several of the soldiers who'd accompanied the princess, the pucker factor became extremely high. Fortunately, the pretty stranger had things under control. Much to the shock of all those gathered in that space, every dart managed to find a home in Chang's tender flesh, no matter who it had been fired at.
As the living pin-cushion screamed and screamed, Bonnie raised her dainty finger and beckoned. The world jumped. Much to the shock of the man who'd called her a bitch, he found himself face to face with his foe. "I'm not a bitch," growled Bonnibel Mertens. "I'm an executioner..."
The dying began as the pretty princess shoved her dagger deep into the mercenary's chest. Her startled companions found themselves in among their foes with no opportunity to stay on the fence. Drawing steel, they got down to business, slashing and stabbing their foes, chopping off limbs and eviscerating the mercenaries.
The world jumped again, with the soldiers finding themselves back on the far side of the space, staring at their foes. Huffing and puffing, the leader of the band wiped at his brow, his blood hot and his knees wanting to knock together. A glance at the woman who led them showed that she had not a drop of blood on her—a terrifying sight, when the soldiers were liberally spattered in their foes bodily fluids.
Coolly, the tall blonde announced, "you can't touch me. You see that not even your blood can touch me. Those who surrender now and speak on what's transpired here, will be spared the ultimate sanction. You'll be sent into exile or into the prisons according to your crimes. The rest..."
It took a few minutes, with the battered mercenary guards staring back in shock at her, even as they cradled the deadly firearms that had availed them nothing against their foes. And then it began. With a strangled cry of terror, one of the mercs hurled his illegal weapon away and threw himself on his knees. Though a couple of holdouts admonished their colleagues to hang tough, it didn't take long before nearly all of the survivors had surrendered.
As she raised the knife with which she'd killed three men already, the tall princess coolly announced, "last call..." The last of the holdouts hurled his weapon away.
Elsewhere, Roselinen Mertens strode up to the side of the target warehouse, skirts swishing through the dust, with a few dozen men at her back. Every eye in the town stared at her, as the stranger passed.
Nor were they alone. The plump woman presented something of a paradox for the men following her. She hardly looked the part of a Royal. Certainly, she looked nothing like the young princess. She didn't wear heels, and she wore plain, serviceable garb rather than the flamboyant dress young Bonnibel wore.
At the same time, the way she spoke told that her words weren't suggestions. She told them what she wanted them to do, and she clearly expected to be obeyed. More to the point, she was coolly rational, telling them exactly what her limitations were and what she'd contribute to their cause.
As they approached the target, Roselinen announced, "I'm going to provide a pathway to the center of the warehouse." Her matter-of-fact tone made the captain stand straighter. "The passage will not harm you, so long as you stay in the center," the plump princess explained. "I can't guarantee your safety if you move too close to the edges." "Center," the captain agreed, "right."
"I'll need my attention focused on the foes in front of us, when we reach the warehouse's interior," Rosie explained. "The minute we're within sight of our foes, deploy your men, captain. Don't dawdle. I'll be closing off the passage, and anyone still inside... well, it won't be a pleasant day for them." "Move off the X," the captain agreed.
Stepping forward, Roselinen gathered herself. It came easier and easier each time she did this. Knowing what young William was going through, she sometimes feared what this was doing to her. Was she destined to go mad? Would she lose herself in the ghostly echo of her homeland? In the moment, it didn't bear thinking about. She had a task to complete and a peace to keep.
Before the gathered soldiers' eyes, the world seemed to shudder. And then, there was a beautiful green space around them. The wall that had stood before them was gone, though they could just glimpse the edges of it on the perimeter of the strange space they now stood in. Shepherding his men before him, the captain admonished them to stick close to the stranger. Their lives depended on it.
The stranger strode forward, and that strange field seemed to open up before her. With each step she took, the strange greenery seemed to materialize, bringing with it the scent of flowers being crushed underfoot and the hints of chirping birds and insects. Behind them, the strange world seemed to melt away.
Every man moved forward with alacrity. Indeed, the captain had to stop one or two who were too eager, as he feared disturbing their lovely guide on this mad journey. Thankfully, though she wore the garb of a peasant, the plump woman walked with the measured step of a noble.
It seemed only a few moments passed—scant heartbeats in time—before the plump woman announced, "prepare your men, captain..." The soldiers made themselves ready, drawing steel or readying their bows. And then the vast interior of the warehouse opened before them, revealing a strange box on a table—along with the startled warehouse guards.
Barking orders, the captain sent his men rushing past their guide. The feel of the world bending around them hastened their steps. In short order the entirety of his little company was deployed inside the warehouse's inmost vault, with the plump woman there in the very center.
"Greetings," Roselinen announced. "I'm Roselinen the First, Consort of the King of Ooo. My husband offers mercy to the men who lay down their arms and death for those who don't."
For several moments, the mercenaries within the space stared at the invaders, with more than one pondering how they'd made it past walls that were two feet thick and a maze of crates and bales. Of course, when the plump stranger began counting down towards zero, they were all forced to action.
One guard leveled his dart rifle and let fly in a full-auto burst that emptied the magazine. Much to the shock and horror of his fellows, the very darts he'd fired seemed to somehow reverse course and strike their owner, turning him into a living pin-cushion. As the dying guard screamed, the shocked soldiers that had followed the Queen of Ooo into the building were shaken out of their shock. Leveling their bows, they began to kill the others.
When the mercenaries' best shot managed to slay two of her companions, Roselinen simply merged him with the ground beneath his feet, killing him instantly. When a second man sought to gun her down, she simply swapped places with him temporarily, letting him eat his own gunfire.
The whole horrific business played out over the course of a scant ten minutes before first one and then a dozen of the mercenaries threw down his weapons. In short order, her foes had completely capitulated. Silence reigned then, punctuated only by the sounds of dying men.
This..., Rosie thought, as she stared around her at the carnage. This is why he feels the way he does. Her husband had been a soldier from the age of ten. He'd fought Bonnibel's battles and then Lord Woolcot's wars. He'd seen a great deal of this, so was it any wonder that he'd grown sick of war? The ones who started this are far more deserving of death than these lost souls, Rosie thought. Move on. Do just as he would have done and save those who can be saved.
"Seize them," commanded the plump Queen of Ooo. Without hesitation, the guards rushed forward to do just that. While her companions worked, the plump woman drew the phone from her skirt pocket. Flicking it open, she typed a simple message for her husband and tapped 'send'. At least this part of the business was done. She could only pray that Bonnie and the Informer were as successful.
Well, it appears that Masia's scheme to make a little extra money is going to backfire. Wonder what Odessa will do to her henchwoman. Rosie and Bonnie go hard in the paint against Gumbald's mercenary help, while Finn confronts the Agent Princess's fi-fi's. Wonder what Orzsebet's proposal is. And, of course, which of the target warehouses are Gumbald and his family holed up in? More to come...