The Feast

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The Feast Page 67

by Rowan Bree


  You are probably wondering why I agreed to such a thing, but my relationship with Vale was far too complex to explain in one letter. Perhaps in time you will come to understand the bonds that tied us together. Maybe not forgive, but at least understand.

  Here’s to hoping that your memories will one day return. And if not, we’ll just have to make some new, better ones. And here’s to saving the kingdom and seeing the Order crushed once and for all.

  It’s an honor to fight at your side,

  Jasper Swift

  You close the letter and tuck it into your dress. The stars seem too bright. Rings of herb smoke float out into the night, making your eyes water. You close them and let the rattle of the cart lull you away from your thoughts.

  Epilogue.

  You put your hand on his chest, stopping him.

  He says nothing but smiles and leans back to look at the stars. You see a flicker of flame and smell smoke. You too watch the stars, marveling at the series of events that brought you here. Something Jasper said tickles your thoughts. She belongs with us.

  “Hey,” you say to Eli. “What did Jasper mean when he said I belong with you?”

  Eli pulls a folded piece of parchment from his tunic. He hands it to you.

  “Totally forgot, sorry. He gave me this for you to read on the way.”

  You take the parchment and unfold it. Jasper’s handwriting is small and scratchy but perfectly legible. You recognize it from the note you found in your pocket, the one telling you to go to Tyven. In the light of the moon you read.

  Since you are reading this, it must mean that Vale is dead. He made me promise to let you decide who you wanted to be, which side you would choose. A do-over of sorts after you lost your memory. Vale claimed it was the only fair way. You are probably wondering why I agreed to Vale’s wishes, but my relationship with the mage was far too complex to explain in one letter. Perhaps in time you will come to understand the bonds that tied us together. Maybe not forgive, but at least understand. What I am about to write I should have told you back in the forest that first time we met.

  You are from Doria. You watched as the Order rose to power and slowly turned your city into a church for the worship of their gods. Whether you never believed in the Order, or were a devotee with a change of heart, I do not know. What I do know is that you decided to try and warn Tyven of the growing threat the Order posed.

  My friends and I first heard of you when you were captured on the way to Tyven. You were to be tried for treason in Doria. We already knew somewhat of the Order’s plans, and knew you would be a valuable asset to our cause. So we coordinated a rescue operation to spirit you from the prison convoy heading back to Doria.

  Unfortunately all did not go as planned. In the scuffle I lost sight of you and had to make a quick getaway. I hoped you were safe and tried looking for you in the forest afterwards. There I ran into Vale, who too was looking for you. He told me that you lost your memory, and it was then that we made our little bargain at your expense.

  I suspected he was lying about your memory loss, but when I met you on that forest road you confirmed my worst fears. It was then I realized the stakes I was playing with. From then on I kept an eye on you and tried to subtly guide you towards our cause. Whether it was my efforts or chance that brought us together, I’m glad to have finally found the opportunity to give you this letter.

  Here’s to hoping that your memories will one day return. And if not, we’ll just have to make some new, better ones. And here’s to saving the kingdom and seeing the Order crushed once and for all.

  It’s an honor to fight at your side,

  Jasper Swift

  You close the letter and tuck it into your dress. The stars seem too bright. Rings of herb smoke float out into the night, making your eyes water. You close them and let the rattle of the cart lull you away from your thoughts.

  Epilogue.

  “I should be going,” you tell the lizard, leaving him for the tottering elf.

  As you near the elf you can see that he’s in no shape to go to the feast. You doubt he even has an invitation. He lights a cigarette with a snap of his fingers and takes a deep drag. Fragrant herb smoke fills the air.

  You thank the elf for his help.

  “You’ve gotta be careful around those types,” he says. You see that one of his tapered ears is missing its top half. “People go missing or worse talking to strangers on the street.”

  “You’re a stranger,” you say, not feeling particularly threatened by the skinny drunken mess but cautious nonetheless.

  “I’m Eli,” he says with a wink. “And I’m sure we could get quite well acquainted if you want.”

  A bell starts tolling the hour. The feast is about to begin. “Not going to happen,” you tell the elf.

  You start off towards the castle. Eli tosses his cigarette and follows you.

  “Are you really going to the feast?” you ask him.

  He burps. “Didn’t say I was going to the feast. Just the castle.”

  You don’t try to probe further.

  “You’re local,” Eli continues. “But not anyone I’ve seen. Who are you, anyway?”

  You find yourself at a loss for explanation, but Eli doesn’t seem bothered. He rambles on, “As long as you’re not one of those Dorian hags it’s all good. You know they’re trying to take over Tyven just like the old days. The black mages, those evil bastards,” he hiccups, “are going to use their dark magic to cast a spell on the king at the feast and make him pledge his allegiance to their cult. Then we’re all fucked.”

  The castle is just up ahead. The courtyard is lively with arriving guests. Eli talks faster. “Seriously, though. Their leader is a real bad guy. Like human sacrifices bad. Him and his cult are going to be at the feast. I’m not sure what they’re planning, but I wouldn’t go in there if I were you.”

  You watch a centaur trot past towards the castle. He nods at you and you curtsy in return. You wonder what other sorts of guests the king has invited.

  Eli grabs your arm. “Are you even listening to me?”

  “Yeah,” you reply, still watching the arriving guests. “Dark magic. Evil.” It sounds like a conspiracy, and the elf’s smoking habit doesn’t help. You shake him off and continue towards the castle.

  You hear the elf swear behind you. “I didn’t want to have to do this,” he says. The next thing you know the elf has tackled you into the bushes beside the road. You hear a rip as your dress catches on some twigs.

  You hiss expletives at him.

  He puts his finger to his lips. “Shut up. I’m saving your life.”

  “You’re crazy,” you whisper. “I’m going to the feast.”

  “You can’t. It’s dangerous. And anyway you don’t have an invitation.”

  You pat the bosom of your dress where you had safely tucked the envelope but it isn’t there. The elf is right.

  “Give it back,” you tell him.

  He feigns an innocent look. “I don’t have it.”

  You spot the dagger on his belt and lunge for it. He scrambles out of the way just in time and produces the envelope from his sleeve.

  “Oh this?” he asks. He snaps his fingers and the parchment goes up in flames. He winks. “I promise I’m only doing this for your good. Let me show you what I mean.”

  He points towards a gap in the bushes and you reluctantly follow him. He skirts the castle wall finding a low bit where the stones have crumbled away. He clambers over this and drops to the other side. You do the same.

  “I thought the castle was dangerous,” you say.

  Eli leads you through the castle grounds as if well familiar with it. There is not a soul in sight, not even a single patrolling guardsman. You assume they are all too busy with the feast. Eli takes you through a door up a set of stairs onto a small platform of sorts overlooking the castle grounds. The platform is wedged between a high wall and one of the castle’s towers leaving little spac
e for the two of you.

  “In here,” he says, pointing to a low window in the tower. Through it you can see an empty bedroom. An open space has been cleared at the foot of the bed and a large circular symbol carved into the wood. Red candles are melted at intervals into the design. There is a pool of what looks like blood in the center. A large book lies open on the bed. Its pages are covered in illustrations of demonic beasts.

  “The Order,” Eli whispers. “I told you they’re evil. We have to stop them before they enchant the king and take over the kingdom.”

  “What’s your plan?” you ask.

  “That bedroom belongs to one of the top mages, the only one with any real power. If we get rid of him, we save the kingdom.”

  Ask Eli for a smoke first.

  Get to work.

  “I’m fine, thanks,” you tell the elf, sensing the danger that the bones foretold.

  “Yessss, we’re just fine,” the lizard hisses. “Now come with me. We don’t have much time.”

  You follow the lizard back the way you came, past the closed shops and houses towards the outskirts of town and the slums.

  “Why am I in danger?” you ask.

  The lizard replies, “The bones do not give such answers. Only what is important.”

  The street brightens as you reach an area filled with vendors’ stalls and a sizeable crowd. You immediately feel out of place in your fine dress amongst the unwashed throng that populates the street. There is no fine silk or delicate lace to be seen, just a sea of coarse linen and scuffed leather. A man shouts from a stall selling grilled rats on skewers.

  “Thissss way,” the lizard says.

  At the end of the street is a large canvas tent squeezed in between rickety wooden buildings creating a dead-end. The only way forward is into the tent. The lizard lifts up the flap and ushers you inside.

  You first impression is that of a zoo. There is an unmistakable animal stench in the air along with inhuman hooting, howling, and braying filling the air. Rows of iron-barred cages fill the space. People meander between them, gawking at the creatures on display. Some throw popcorn through the bars. Others just stare.

  “Quickly, now,” the lizard prompts, pushing you along before you get a good look at the cages’ occupants. You get glimpses of fur, and snouts, but also human faces and skin of all colors. You’re pretty sure a place like this is illegal.

  A slightly older man stands at an open cage. To one side is a sleeping wolf and the other a naked goblin. The man wears a fitted three-piece suit and carries a cane. He hands the lizard a pouch of coins then taps on the bars with his cane. “In here.”

  He seems to want you to walk into the cage. You stop.

  The man raises his eyebrows. “Do you understand me?”

  “She undersstandsss,” the lizard hisses.

  The man taps the bars again. He looks at you expectantly with his dark blue eyes.

  It looks like you’ve been tricked. The lizard wasn’t helping you after all. You hear a distant bell tolling the time. The feast is about to start.

  Beg the man to let you go.

  Try to seduce him.

  You beg the man to let you go, showing him your invitation to the king’s feast. “You can’t keep me here,” you tell him. “I’m an important guest of the king.”

  The man doesn’t even look at the invitation. As he turns to leave, the lizard grabs you and shoves you into the cage, locking the door behind you.

  “Hey, you.”

  A lithe goblin with shaggy hair and pale green skin rattles the bars to your right, his smooth cock wiggling back and forth as he does so.

  “What is this place?” you ask him.

  “People watch. Get money.” He reaches behind his back and pulls out a silver coin, from where you don’t want to know. He bites it and grins. “Real money.”

  You try to hide your frustration at his lack of an answer. Most goblins don’t even speak your language so you should be lucky to get as much from him as you did.

  “Don't pay him any mind, “a soft voice prompts you to turn around. In the cage behind yours stands a delicate young man with antlers, whose lower half morphs seamlessly into that of a deer. You have never seen one of his kind in person.

  “What is this place?” you ask him.

  He gives a sad little smile. “A place for us curiosities to make money for others.”

  “A zoo?” you ask.

  “More like a freak show,” the cervitaur replies.

  You ask about the wolf.

  The cervitaur glances guardedly towards the beast. “A reverse werewolf. He becomes human every full moon. But don’t let looks fool you. He’s much more dangerous as a human.”

  “And me?” you ask. “I’m not rare.”

  “Some curiosities don’t start out that way,” he says cryptically. “You should escape before that happens.”

  “How?” you ask.

  The cervitaur shrugs. “If I knew that I wouldn’t still be here.”

  You go to the front of the cage and peer out. There isn’t much to see beyond the endless rows of cages and the people wandering about. You call out to them as they pass your cage, but not a single one looks your way. You are not nearly interesting enough to get their attention.

  Meanwhile, your goblin neighbor has attracted a small crowd with his lewd antics. A large woman tosses a coin at him as he contorts to try and lick his own penis. He is still a few inches short, but the crowd is entertained nevertheless.

  You’re going to have to get some attention if you want someone to help you out.

  Make noise.

  Give the visitors a show.

  You beg the man to let you go, showing him your invitation to the king’s feast. “You can’t keep me here,” you tell him. “I’m an important guest of the king.”

  He doesn’t bother to look down at the parchment in your hand. “You’ll be expected to do certain things while you’re here to keep my patrons entertained.” He nods towards the goblin’s cell. “That’s what keeps me happy.”

  You see that your goblin neighbor has attracted a small crowd with his lewd antics. A large woman tosses a coin at him as he contorts to try and lick his own penis. He is a few inches short, but the crowd is entertained nevertheless. He turns around to spread his ass for them. The crowd squeals in disgust but still keep throwing coins.

  You ask the man if he wants you to make a fool of yourself.

  “Sex sells,” the man says. “And I’m sure with your looks you won’t have to resort to such silliness. Although,” he pauses as if in the midst of thought, “since you’re not exactly special I’m going to ask that you perform with one of your much more interesting neighbors.”

  You ask him what happens if you refuse.

  He looks amused. “I might decide you’re more suited to helping me in my experiments. As a test subject.”

  The way his eyes gleam make you think his experiments are not very kind to his subjects. Still, do you really want to debase yourself in front of strangers?

  “Most of my subjects are lucky to survive a week. So who will it be?”

  If you disobey you die, simple as that. You look around at your options: the cervitaur, werewolf, and goblin.

  Choose the cervitaur.

  Choose the werewolf.

  Choose the goblin.

  You tell the man it would be a waste to lock you up. He’d have a lot more fun with you outside of the cage.

  The corners of the man’s mouth curl up just slightly, but enough that you know it’s working.

  The lizard goes to shove you into the cage but the man stops him.

  “I’ll keep her,” he says.

  The lizard hisses, but has to do what his boss says. He steps aside as you follow the man away from the cage, glad that your strategy worked.

  Behind the big tent filled with cages is a much smaller tent of deep red, done up on the inside like the bedchambers of a wealthy n
oble. Beside it is a covered wagon with bars over the windows.

  “You stay out here,” the man says, entering the tent.

  He comes back a moment later carrying a leather collar attached to a heavy chain.

  “I think you’ve deserved a spot as my special pet.”

  He puts the collar around your neck and padlocks the chain around one of the wagon wheels.

  You fumble with the collar but can’t find how it’s fastened.

  The man watches you. “Pets sleep outside until they are fully trained.”

  You nod your head, playing along with his fantasy. You tell him you’ll be a good pet.

  He smiles at you and goes into the tent. You wonder what he will bring out next, perhaps a gag or a whip. Or maybe a treat for his submissive pet. The thought of it excites you.

  But he doesn’t come out. You call after him, wondering what’s taking him so long. It’s getting later and you worry the castle gates will be closed by the time you arrive.

  Eventually you give up. It’s obvious you’re the one who was tricked. The man isn’t coming back out for you. You curl up next to the wagon wheel. All you can do is bide your time and wait for an opportunity to escape.

  You aren’t aware of having drifted off until you are woken by a callused hand on your cheek. The hand pries your jaw open and stuffs a rag in before you can scream for help. A sack goes over your head. There is a clink of metal snapping. Arms lift you off the ground and carry you away.

  The castle.

 

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