Enchantress

by Christine Schumaker

  This Night Dweller King would not be easily put off. The princess knew it would come to a battle of wills between them. She did not know how she would thwart him, for deny him, she must. Meanwhile, she would need to keep her distance from Lord Forn as well, for every chance he had, he sought her kisses while his hands roamed over her figure.

  Truly, why had she not been born with the countenance of a harmless bullfrog? Serese did not know how she would find the wherewithal to keep her chastity intact. The princess questioned her mother’s refusal to outfit her with one of those belts designed specifically with that purpose in mind. It fell to the ladies to maintain propriety. Men had no such predicaments to bother them.

  It was close to dawn when they reached the black caves which lay before Serpentine’s tower. The rocky landscape around the fortress seemed filled with eyes that watched Serese. She peered around nervously but could see no one. Then, high in the branches of a dead tree, a squawk and a flutter of feathers revealed a red-eyed crow which flew into a tower window. They were discovered then.

  The caves were rumored to be inhabited by a sleeping dragon. Serese sincerely hoped it stayed asleep. She had not the faintest idea how to discourage one should it interfere with their plans. It would not do to learn by trial and error with such a dangerous foe. Of course, she tried not to think that was the very same method she would be using with Serpentine. They would need to discuss possible tactics as soon as she had a bit of rest. Lord Forn must be made to see reason. He could not take this burden from her shoulders, no matter how dearly he wanted to.

  They quietly camped within the damp tunnel, keeping their voices down so as not to awaken its possible scaly occupant. The humans leaned against a granite wall near the cave’s entrance; the air was more palatable by the narrow opening. The Night dwellers were not troubled by the odor. They slept the coming daylight hours away. Deep within the bowels of the cave, Serese could hear a rumbling breathing sound.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Serpentine sat on her throne and surveyed the warriors assembled before her. The great hall was a crowded mass of assorted wrongdoers, lined up in formation as they awaited orders from their queen. The motley mix of trolls, goblins, renegade Night dwellers, corrupt men and ghouls resembled a foretaste of hell.

  The flickering torches cast shadows over the cursed warriors, whose ghostly countenances still continued to rot for they were neither living nor dead. The in between realm called them its own but the ghouls proved to be hardy warriors despite their preserved states of decay. They adeptly stole the memories of the living, implanting nightmares in their place. Previous soldiers had stood no chance against them; they had lost their minds during battle, after having their souls feasted upon.

  The goblins had the distinguished rank of being the most hideous in attendance. Their brown scaly skin was covered in green patches. Their stout little legs were misshapen and bent but their tough hides were difficult to penetrate. The trolls were leathery misshapen versions of men, towering over the others. They carried sharpened stakes and clubs studded with mace for their vast upper body strength made them excellent bludgeoners. The men themselves were battle-scarred and unkempt. There were some among the men who would have been handsome had their features not been fixed in scowls.

  The rebel Night dwellers were as beautiful as tenderly prepared corpses but their eyes held only cruelty. Unlike Serese’s companions, these warriors had given themselves entirely to darkness. They wore black robes and black crowns interlaced with diamond snakes upon their heads; they were Serpentine’s elite fighting force. They never let the others forget it.

  Serpentine addressed her troops, “Everyone must remain in their assigned position—anyone who abandons their post will be killed by my own hand. I will not take any prisoners, except for Serese and Forn. I expect you all to fight to the death—theirs or yours.”

  The dark warriors bowed of one accord, before their queen. Then, they left to fill their various posts throughout the fortress and its grounds. They had been grilled on their assignments and had practiced countless drills. The only thing they had not prepared for was witchery or magic. Against those foes, they would not stand a chance. But they were confident; their enemy was merely a girl accompanied by Serpentine’s wayward son.

  The sorceress stared into the distance while one of her silvery snakes slithered down her arm, curling around her wrist. She stroked its leathery skin as she spoke, “Well, my pet, Serese and her valiant knights hide themselves in my cave. Should I flush them out or wait for their meager numbers to gather before me? Have you any advice for your mother?”

  The sorceress held the writhing snake up to her cheek, letting the creature flick its black tongue upon her face. Serpentine stared into the inky black eyes of the coiled snake on her arm and sighed. The silvery serpent hissed into the sorceress’s left ear and her face lit up as she nodded her head.

  “I agree, my pet, it would only be right to inform this castle’s owner of the enemy which dares to attack his keep. Let us go to him hence.” Serpentine rose to her feet and the snake climbed up her arm, settling into her hair.

  She descended the spiral stone staircase of her tower, stopping to withdraw a lit torch from the foyer wall. Down, down, she continued circling, her boot heels clicking on the damp steps. Serpentine avoided the crumpled rodent remains as she continued her descent.

  Reaching the bottom landing, she removed a large iron skeleton key out of her gown’s pocket, and then she smoothed back tendrils of her hair. She still maintained hope that her affection would free the powerful one hidden within. He only required a kiss, but so far, hers had not been the kiss that he sought. The fact that it had not happened during her previous visits did not dissuade her. She would release the mighty one from his curse; his help would be invaluable. All she had to do was convince him to join her.

  The black iron door before her had intertwined serpents carved on its surface. Its hinges were rusted with age. It would not keep out its inhabitant; it had been designed to leave its occupant in seclusion. He could easily break through this barrier if he so chose. The door’s upper corners were covered with withered cobwebs which contained shriveled spiders. Serpentine fitted her key into the iron lock, forcing the ancient door to creak ajar.

  She opened the massive door slowly, the smell which was released caused the sorceress to gasp and hold a handkerchief to her nose. “Well, my pets,” she addressed her snakes, “The smell has not improved with time.”

  The stench within was more putrid than hundreds of decomposing remains. Serpentine raised her eyebrows in disgust, as she cautiously entered. The cave behind the door was dimly lit, by embedded phosphorescent rocks. She trod carefully, for the dusty bones of goblins, trolls and men littered the floor; it would not do to trip and fall. She must look her best.

  Serpentine hurried further into the tunnel, holding her torch above her with one hand and her lavender scented handkerchief before her, with the other. After following several twists, she reached a large open area, lit by glowing rocks in its walls.

  Lying atop gold coins was a large, scaly, grey dragon with purple wings and black claws, curled under his bulk. His body was segmented and his cheeks had ridges of scales which protected his neck. He had two black horns which rose behind his closed eyes. Some of his yellow teeth protruded from his jaw as he slept. He snored loudly and smoke wheezed out of his large nostrils. His grey tail was studded with purple razor-sharp plates upon its entire length; his breath was formidable.

  It smelled as if every impure creature’s leavings were in the purple-tinged puffs of his snores. The sorceress wrinkled her nose, trying in vain to take shallow breaths. The heat radiating from the dragon’s body had caused a misty sheen of sweat to appear on Serpentine’s face. A small braid from her coif had escaped and hung, bedraggled, against her damp neck. She blotted at her perspiration with the limp handkerchief.

  Clearing her throat, she knelt before the slumbering beast. It slowly opened fi
rst one golden eye and then the other. Upon seeing the sorceress, the dragon growled which caused the snakes to retreat even further into her hair. He thundered, “It is not my time to be awakened—what is it you desire, that you disturb my rest?”

  The sorceress lifted her head, eye to eye with the great beast. Her pet serpents stayed hidden; they feared the creature whose bite was deadlier than theirs.

  “Your majesty, I only wish to tell you that King Argot’s army nears. Princess Serese has bewitched my son. Forn is lost to me. They have joined with the Night dwellers. They are camped within these caves which border your keep.”

  “What makes you think I was not aware of their feeble plans? I have seen their coming in a dream. You have come to beg me for your life. You fear Serese will defeat you. Your own selfish actions have invited them to rise against you,” the dragon bellowed. Smoke flew out of his nostrils, causing Serpentine to cough.

  “But your majesty, I only sought to reclaim the ancient flask which the elves took from you. I wanted to offer the opal as a token of my appreciation. I thought to make a present to you of Serese. Her marriage to Forn has not yet been consummated—my spies would have told me. Perhaps she is the maiden who will release you from your curse.”

  “That is what your mouth speaks but I hear your heart. It tells me you seek more power for yourself. As for Serese, I have no ill wishes toward that princess. Now leave me in peace.” The dragon turned its girth around, and piles of treasure cascaded around him like an avalanche.

  It had turned its backside to her. Serpentine stepped out of the way of a cumbersome spiked crown as it tumbled down a pile of coins, landing at her feet.

  A tiny frown appeared between her eyes. She curtsied before the dragon’s hind end, slowly backing away from him, in case he did have eyes in the back of his head after all.

  Serpentine hurried back through the tunnel, while the snores of the sleeping dragon echoed around her. After relocking the iron door and pocketing the key, she slowly ascended the stone steps. She paused periodically to grab the stone wall, holding herself up, numerous times.

  “That cursed dragon has abandoned me,” she muttered to her snakes. “I will find a way to avenge him for his lack of sympathy. But my interfering niece will be dealt with first.”

  The silvery serpent on her right arm hissed in her ear as she stroked its glistening head. “Oh, that is an excellent idea, my sweet darling.”

  The smaller snake on her left arm whispered next, and Serpentine smiled, “Why, you are positively devious, my dear. I will begin at once.”

  The sorceress reached her spell room and searched frantically through tattered volumes. “Where is it?” she fretted aloud.

  Many books were discarded as she sought one particular venomous ancient text. Then, a wisp of smoke drifted from behind a treatise on phases of the moon. The dreadful manuscript had been found. After carefully removing it, Serpentine read the forbidden parchment until late in the night and through the next day. Mixing potions in her iron kettle, her arms could stir no more. Exhausted, she sank onto her settee for a short nap. But, the small worry line between her eyes remained on her face.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Serese slept curled against the solid shelter of Lord Forn’s chest when a sound woke her. She tried to sit up but noticed that her arms and her legs had been bound. Glancing at her companions, she noticed that their limbs had been tied as well. Sir Roan growled at the Night dweller soldiers who stood nearby, their white faces impassive.

  Serese blinked, frowning in puzzlement, and an insistent voice whispered, “Come my darling, I wait to make you mine.” King Azrael knelt beside her, gathering her in his arms while she squirmed to get away.

  His dark eyes found hers and they would not let go. He held her face in his cold hands. He kissed her forehead and gazed intently into her eyes, asking an unspoken question. His hands caressed her face. Serese tried to kick Lord Forn awake with her boot while she said, “I will not go willingly with you. If you value your life, you will release us at once. You know I am betrothed to Forn.”

  Why would Lord Forn not awaken? That man slept like the dead. Serese nervously glanced over at his face. No, he was still among the living—for color bloomed on his cheeks.

  Then King Azrael laughed, “I am not afraid of your elfin lover. I gave him and the boy a sleeping draught earlier. They should be quite senseless for hours.”

  Then he pressed his chilled lips next to hers in an otherworldly kiss which sent her blood coursing through her veins. Her heart hammered loudly in response. His strong lips bruised her tender ones as liquid gold melted in her inmost parts. Still, she struggled against his cold chest. Serese shivered as flickers of fear moved into her heart. Would this Night dweller king molest her while her beloved Forn and her shepherd lay nearby? Serese wanted the embers of her heart to be fanned into flames only by Lord Forn. Not by this devious icy creature!

  She caught Sir Roan’s eyes and the wolf nodded slowly at her and Serese realized the wise lupine must have come up with a rescue plan. God’s Teeth! What a relief! But the wolf leader would need to hurry for the Night dweller king had an amorous gleam in his eyes which alarmed Serese.

  “Your blood calls to me, longing to be tasted again. I must drink even more from you, and then you must drink from me. It shall only hurt for a moment. I hoped you would be mine when you offered yourself to me. You shall sleep and awaken as my queen.”

  Serese sighed with frustration, “I have told you that I cannot belong to you. I must fulfill the prophecy. I love Lord Forn. Release me, Azrael.”

  The love-struck king kissed Serese’s throat again before his teeth sank into her neck and his lips fastened to her skin as he drank. And drank, dizzy with the taste of her sweet blood. Serese spit at him in frustration. Her hands and her legs were truly caught in the ropes; her struggles were of no avail.

  Serese cried out at the madness of this attack. She wanted to free herself but King Azrael cradled her head in his hands and still, he drank. Her eyelids felt heavy and she fought to keep them open.

  From out of the corner of her eye, Serese noticed that Sir Roan had slid over to Lord Forn and had placed his muzzle over his mouth. Good. The wolf’s healing spit would awaken him. But it would need to happen soon for Serese felt herself growing weaker by the moment.

  “No!” an enraged shout filled the cave. Lord Forn broke free from the binding rope, “You cannot have her! I will not relinquish her to a parasite!”

  The prince lifted his right arm, pointing it at King Azrael’s heart as he shouted with every fiber of his being, “Torn apart, joined together, our love conquers his dark fetter! Pierce his heart with loyalties’ dart that all its deadness will depart!” Lord Forn cast the spell.

  King Azrael sobbed inky tears and gently pushed Serese into Lord Forn’s waiting arms. The Night dweller rested his head in his hands, weeping bitterly.

  The bewildered princess opened her eyes and saw she rested in Lord Forn’s embrace. She touched his cheek with her hand as tears of gratitude pooled in her eyes. Lord Forn stroked her face and turned to King Azrael, “I am not without power. If any of you try to take her again, I will kill you.”

  Serese tried to speak but her throat felt dry and the words would not form. Lord Forn said, “You are safe now, my heart’s delight. Go to sleep.”

  Exhaustion overcame her and she closed her eyes. Her veins felt as if they were on fire, as if a hellish potion had taken them over.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  The smell of roasting pheasant woke Serese later the next evening.

  “You have returned to us, my darling. You slept a night and a day. How is my Lady feeling?”

  “I feel as if I have been thrown from my beloved mare, Sasha, into a bramble of thorns.” Serese examined her wrists, checking for signs of turning into one of the dark ones. The princess rejoiced to find herself still mortal and not trapped in a moonlight existence.

  “You are quite mortal. I stopped
him before he forced you to drink his blood, which would have sealed your fate.”

  “You were right in not trusting him.” Serese admitted. “I feel so foolish. I should have fought him more forcefully.”

  “You are no match for his strength. Besides, your blood called to his.” Lord Forn gathered Serese in his arms, “He is remorseful. Thus, he will help us defeat Serpentine. All has not been lost. Now come, you must take nourishment. Jonathan dared to poach in my stepmother’s woods.”

  Lord Forn pulled his intended to her feet as he accompanied her to the cooking fire.

  Serese noticed the Night dweller king sat apart, off in a corner, away from the comforting aroma of the stew pot. He should be ashamed of himself for nearly costing her the entire quest. But his shoulders drooped and his head rested in his cold hands. How can I feel sorry for King Azrael? How can I not? He is a desperate creature. If only I knew of a lady who would consent to wed him. God’s Teeth! It galls me; to think how determined he was to make me his bride. He should suffer for placing his selfish desires above my duty!

  Lord Forn had told her it was her blood which had responded to Azrael and not her. As if she was not responsible for her own behavior. She had thought she was invincible because she wore the opal. It irked her to realize she was, indeed, not immune to temptation. Why had her gemstone not come to her aid?

  Thank God, Lord Forn knew magical incantations of his own. She loved him more every moment. Especially when he kept coming to her rescue; at this rate, he would render her unnecessary. How could I be so prideful, after nearly losing my purity to a different man? Bats Breath! He isn’t even a man. My sisters were right in calling me hotheaded and stubborn.

  She glanced again at Lord Forn, studying his eyes, but his face revealed nothing of his thoughts regarding her behavior. Serese chewed upon her fingernail, a gesture she did only when frustrating circumstances proved overwhelming.