“Would you like me to destroy you where you stand, you imbecile? Give me the eye, or your fate will be worse than that of the old woman.”
“I can see that we are a lot alike,” Rohedon stated, acting as though he hadn’t heard Eerich’s demand. “Both of us are greedy and want only for ourselves.”
“What I want is not for myself; it’s for my Hound.”
“Which is your favorite pet, no doubt. Did you create him yourself?” Natosha recognized the negotiation in his voice and knew that he was trying to manipulate the God of the Underworld.
“Of course I created him. He is a loyal servant and my best hunter.”
“What does he hunt?”
“Souls.” Eerich’s eye glowed brighter as he stepped toward Rohedon. The Hound rose up behind him, his eyes fixed on the hand clutching his missing eye.
Rohedon swallowed. “Hunting souls is an obsession, I take it?”
“You could say that, seeing as how I’m the God of the Dead, and all.”
“What if I set up prey for your hound to hunt?”
Eerich only looked at him disbelievingly. “What would I need that for?”
“Entertainment, my Lord.”
“And what has that to do with the eye of my pet?”
“Well, let’s see,” said Rohedon, gathering his courage and stepping around the god to walk about the fire slowly. “In return for the eye, I want to be ‘Lord Rohedon’. You shall give me the power of dark magic. With that I can create my own species of beasts for your pet to hunt, as well as sending humans his way.”
“A human creating a species?” said Eerich. “That ought to be interesting. And if my pet likes your choices of beasts, then what?”
Rohedon’s eyes lit up. “I told you I am a greedy man, Lord Eerich. I want women—more than one—at my beck and call.”
“Wives?” said the god with a puzzled look.
“Even better,” said Rohedon. “And I want them to have powers too.”
“I think you’re pushing it now.”
Rohedon shrugged nonchalantly and extended his hand over the fire, opening his fist so that the god and his pet could see the bloody eye sitting atop the palm. “I’m not pushing anything. Either you give me what I wish or the beast’s eye will go into the fire.”
The Hound of Death howled again and with one badly misshapen hand pawed at his master’s leg. “What makes you think I can’t just give him another eye?” Eerich growled.
“Because of the way he reacts to my threat,” Rohedon answered, venom dripping in his voice. “What is your answer?”
Eerich eyed him over the fire. “How do you know I won’t take your soul to the Underworld once you drop the eye into the flames?”
Rohedon smiled a little more. “That, of course, would also be part of the deal.” The tip of the knife found the back of the eye and poked it. The creature screamed in pain, as though he could feel it. “It’s your choice.”
The god’s eyes flared bright red. “All right. But the magic I give to your women will be taken away at my choice in time after you die; the magic belongs to me always.”
“Deal,” said her husband.
The entire scene faded away and Natosha found herself back at the clearing on the mountain pass. Her mouth quivered as her jaw dropped in shock. None of the powers she thought she had come into many years past had ever belonged to her at all! How could Rohedon have done this to her and the other wives? So Rohedon had made a deal with the God of the Underworld for magic in order for Eerich to get his pet’s eye back?
She turned to Eerich. “Is there more?” she said softly.
“Oh, yes. To make things more interesting I gave the majority of the magic to Rohedon’s wives as they came into marriage with him. Didn’t I, old chum?”
Rohedon looked away with a guilty expression.
“Yes, definitely made things more interesting.”
“But…Rohedon is dead now,” she stuttered. “If you’re dead,” she said, turning to her husband, “then why do we still have our magic?”
Eerich chuckled again darkly. “Why do you think your magic on Zela did not work? That’s the beauty of it, my dear. I get to choose when, where, and how I take your powers back.” He chuckled.
“But that’s not fair!” Natosha cried out.
“It was never fair for you to start with,” the god spat. He threw a menacing stare in her husband’s direction. Then he gazed at Natosha with an endearing smile painted on his face. “But that’s not the best part of the deal.”
Rohedon whipped around, pieces of his rotting flesh splattering Natosha, who flinched as she put her hands up to block it. “Do not speak of such things now!” he said.
“Why not?” she demanded. “What more have you done to your poor wives, other than give them borrowed magic and treacherous love?”
Eerich’s false smile became real, his eyes turning colors quickly in excitement. “Your husband—as part of the deal regarding the preservation of his life—said I could do whatever I wanted to any of you after he died…and that’s something I will most certainly enjoy, my wicked little flower.”
They vanished.
Her whole body shook as she thought of Eerich’s last words. He was a god, and his powers were unrivaled. If he chose to do something, there would be nothing she could do to stop him.
The sword poked her in the back. She stiffened, silently cursing herself for not hearing someone walk up behind her.
“Thought I heard someone nosing around in here,” came a woman’s voice. “What are you doing?”
Natosha held her hands out to the sides and turned slowly to see her captor. If only she could try a dab of magic…
The woman was big and stocky, and happened to have a very intimidating stance with her weapon. Natosha didn’t doubt she knew how to use it.
Karen looked the woman up and down in disgust. The ‘dress’ she wore revealed far more than it covered and Karen did not approve. She eyed the strip of the woman’s dress which was tied around her arm, blood seeping through the cloth, suspiciously. “What happened to you and what are you doing here?”
Natosha let her eyes water, making them look larger and vulnerable. “I was captured by a band led by a crazed woman. Your people murdered all of them yesterday, but I didn’t know if you would capture me and keep me as they did. I was their slave for weeks.”
“Where’s that blood coming from?” Karen gestured towards her arm.
Natosha glanced down at her wound. “There was a straggler from yesterday who escaped the carnage your army wreaked. As I was trying to go through the woods this morning he saw me and shot me with his bow.”
Karen placed her hand on her hip and stared with an unimpressed expression. She didn’t believe a single word coming out of the tramp’s mouth. One glimpse at her hands was all anyone needed to see that she was no slave. Her skin was smooth and flawless, her hands untouched by a working woman’s calluses. The stunning face was not burned from walking about in this blasted sun, either. If she was a slave, then Karen was the richest woman in the world. “Tell me your name.”
“Maryan,” Natosha said a little too quickly.
Karen moved her bulky form around ‘Maryan’ and jerked the cloth off her arm. The wound was very fresh and still had the tip of the arrow embedded in the skin. At least one detail of her story was true. “Where are you from?”
“A little town southeast of Lordale.”
Either the captors traveled very fast or the girl was still lying. “You’re not too good with maps, Maryan,” she stated, guessing at the latter. “You’re coming with me.”
“No!” Natosha yelled. She spun and ran off into the woods, trying in vain to use her magic and disappear. But it was no good and she could almost hear the God of the Underworld laughing from his throne.
The rock hit her hard in the back of the head and the next thing she knew her mouth was slamming into the soft earth. She raised her head, spitting out dirt and trying not to get s
ick from the dizziness. She heard the woman come up behind her.
“I said you’re coming with me, and I mean what I say, little girl.”
Natosha attempted to speak, but lost all consciousness.
When she woke up, she was in the back of a wagon and several hours had passed. Her head throbbed horribly as the wagon bounced along the road that was on the other side of the mountain pass. The late afternoon sun scorched her face, but not her body: it had been covered with clothing. She slipped as she tried to sit up, as she had apparently been thrown onto a wagon full of apples. She looked at the clothing more closely and was horrified to find that she wore men’s clothes.
The wagon stopped and for the first time she noticed how many people were around her. Thousands had stopped marching across the large field to take a break and sit down. Many gazed at her with strange looks, though none approached her. She turned and looked with unease at the rest of the Dead Queen’s army.
“Quit moving or you’ll start bleeding again,” said an unpleasantly familiar voice. Karen had approached the wagon with a frown. “And I bloody sure don’t want you bruising all of our apples.”
Natosha gave a sour face. “Where are my clothes? And why am I here?”
Karen smiled sweetly. “Your clothes? Oh, you mean that thing you probably called a dress? It’s what I used to wrap up your wound, girl. And I can’t carry you everywhere, so I put you in the wagon.”
“It feels like you threw me in here,” Natosha said, rubbing her back with a grimace.
The older woman’s smile turned genuine. “I did.”
“Whose are these?” Natosha asked, picking at the baggy shirt.
“My nephew-in-law’s, or he was going to be my nephew-in-law.” Her expression saddened. “He was a very polite young man…Then those monsters got a hold of him.”
Natosha bit her tongue hard. They had been her creations, not monsters. Her husband had encouraged her to create other species when he was alive. Though she had thought previously that it was because she was talented at it, she now knew better; he had only been using her to keep up his end of the bargain with Eerich. She remembered endless nights during which she molded countless images from clay, and then used her powerful magic to bring them to life. “I saw no monsters.”
“Of course you didn’t—you were in captivity, remember?”
“I see she’s awake now,” said a gruff voice. A large, beefy man ambled up to Karen and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. His sword hung heavy on his side, but he seemed not to notice its bulk.
“Yes, and not a bit thankful either,” Karen said bitterly.
“She threw me into this wagon as though I were a sack of oats!” Natosha said. “How do you expect me to feel?”
People were beginning to make a circle around the cart, staring at the beautiful young woman, but not very nicely.
“Obviously no one taught her how to respect her elders,” the man stated.
Natosha fumed quietly. She was older than both of them! “Now that you have stripped me of my attire and given me the clothes of a man, hit me with a rock and thrown me into an apple wagon, may I be released please?”
“Oh no, that is not possible,” the woman said.
The witch folded her arms across the now-hidden mounds of her breasts. “And why not, might I ask? I have done no wrong to anyone.”
“That we know of,” the man mumbled.
“And you cannot go because your release is contingent upon what the King and Queen have to say about your sudden, and odd, appearance.”
Natosha’s heart froze, her blood running cold. “The King and Queen?”
“Why, yes child. My husband, Horace, has just returned from talking with Their Majesties. They will be arriving shortly.”
She tried not to let them see the panic which rose inside her. How much time did she have before they arrived? The King would have her run-through on the spot. Perhaps if it were only the Dead Queen though…
“Surely I am not important enough to have Royalty brought to question me. I have been honest with you.”
“Not honest enough, my dear Maryan.” Karen looked at her husband darkly. “Do you still have the arrow tip that I found?”
“Yes, Karen, it is safe in my pocket and will stay there until they arrive.”
I must escape! Natosha thought. But how? Without her magic she was useless. The only weapon she carried was her beauty, which would not get her far with a young queen. “If I am your prisoner, as you are implying, then why have you not bound my hands and feet?” She had already tried running once, after all.
Karen laughed heartily, her girth shaking. “You are a foolish girl. Look around you! If you run you will be caught for sure.”
Blast it all, the woman was right. Where could she run to? Even if she were to manage to steal a horse a crossbow would find its way to her heart or head. In the distance she could see a procession of horses coming their way. Her hopes evaporated in alarm. She tried in vain to shift into her raven form, but all that happened was a slight tightness around her eyes that went away in seconds.
“You know, her voice is more sophisticated than a mere commoner’s. Perhaps we have a little rich girl, or a runaway bride.”
“I’ve thought the same, Horace,” said his wife, nodding. “We will know in a few more minutes.”
Natosha jumped on her only opportunity. “You are only too right,” she said sadly. “My parents have all but sold me to a suitor twice my age.”
“I have no sympathy for you,” said Karen. “My marriage to Horace was arranged as well, and I could not be happier. Maybe you will be happy too.”
By the Dark Moon! Why did it have to be this particular woman that had captured her? She had to keep going. “Yes, but your husband was not a cripple to be waited on hand and foot.”
“Hush your whining. If he is so crippled then he will not live long,” Karen said. “The King and his bride will not tolerate your childish behavior. If you wish, you may beg of the Queen a retreat until she speaks with your husband, or future husband. Otherwise, you can stop talking now.”
“I believe it’s all a ruse, Karen,” said Horace, now fingering his sword. “I don’t trust her.”
Why did they continue to speak as though she were not present? The Royal procession was getting closer and closer. “Please, let me go. Be kind to me.”
Horace’s expression turned hard. “My wife has been kind enough to you already. You’re being very ungrateful.”
Real tears were forming in her eyes. She did not wish to perish here! “Let me go, I beg of you. I will repay you with anything that you want, but you must hurry. The King and Queen will no doubt send me to that wretched old man!”
“We will hide nothing from Their Majesties, and we will take nothing from the likes of you,” Horace said. “If you speak again, my wife will pelt you with apples until you scream.” The expression on his face told everyone gathered around that he meant business.
Natosha’s desperation to escape was overrunning her body and she felt herself tensing uncontrollably. She could now see His Highness riding beside the Dead Queen, merely a hundred paces away. He could recognize her at any moment! “Please, I will reward you both handsomely if you help me,” she pleaded.
“Shut your trap, little tramp,” Karen said. “Money means nothing to us and you’ll not be able to bribe us. Our loyalties lie with our King and Queen.”
A strong breeze gusted about Natosha. Looking to her left she saw someone appear beside her, slipping a little on the apples. “Oh, Clea!” she exclaimed, as everyone around gasped in astonishment and took several steps back from the wagon.
“Saris felt your distress and sent me after you.” Her sister-wife looked her up and down. “I must say, I can see why you’re upset. Shall we leave?”
To Clea’s s surprise, Natosha shook her head. “I need your help. My magic—there’s a problem with it.”
The woman beside her took her hand, shock and concern on her fa
ce. “Tell me what you need.”
“My Queen!”
Natosha turned to find that Karen and Horace were running towards the Dead Queen and that many of the soldiers around the wagon now had weapons drawn.
“Is that her?” Clea said, peering at the approaching party.
“That’s the Dead Queen, yes.”
“But she’s only a child!” Clea said incredulously.
“Quickly, we haven’t much time!” Natosha said. “Smite the woman in the brown dress that’s running towards their queen. She has wronged me!”
“Say no more.” Clea rose to her full height and threw her arms violently towards Karen as though she were throwing something at a stray cur. The men around her yelled and many dropped to the ground, not knowing what to expect. Karen stopped in mid-step, an unnerving look of horror on her face. Red lines appeared on her throat and began to drip blood. She tried to speak, but all that issued forth was a soft gurgling sound. She pitched forward onto her knees, reaching out for the husband who was still running to their Queen, unaware that his wife was dying behind him.
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