Lesbia Chronicles: Over Witch's Knee

by Ther Renard

  "Bitch tore me up," Kira said conversationally.

  "If you're referring to Ariadne, she barely touched you," Ayla replied, her gentle fingers soothing the pain away with quick, soft strokes. "You are lucky she likes you."

  "She likes me?" Kira snorted. "If that's what she does to people she likes, I wouldn't want to see what she does to her enemies."

  "That's right," Ayla said, "you wouldn't." A brief chill came into the room, making Kira's skin prickle even though she sat in a sun beam.

  "What now?" Kira asked when her cuts were tended, her wounds cleaned and her vest returned to her with a seam of stitches running up the middle where Ariadne had cleaved the leather in twain.

  "What do you mean, what now?" Ayla packed her bits and pieces into a little cloth bag.

  "I mean, what do I do now?"

  "Well, whatever you like," Ayla said. "The village is yours to roam."

  Kira went outside and discovered that the village of the witches was a gorgeous little place. Nestled in the cleft between two great mountains there were dozens of little wooden houses, each of which was connected by a round pebble path and festooned with flowers. The entire village was a well tended garden. The air was thick with the scent of blooming flowers and the view over the valleys that lay below was awe inspiring. Here and there chickens scratched in the dirt and the odd goat nibbled at grass or thatch or tree. It was the most sickening display of rural bliss Kira had ever seen. She hooked her thumbs in her waistband and looked around for something interesting to do, but there was nothing in the offering besides a bit of gardening.

  She wandered about for a bit before becoming completely bored. There was an old willow at the edge of the place and she slipped behind it, loosing her blade and using the sharp tip to scratch a deep K into the tree, followed by an I, then a R then an A. She was rather proud of how it looked there, until a hand clapped down on her shoulder and another one made sharp contact with the seat of her pants.

  "You. Do. Not. Carve. Your. Name. Into. The. Trees!" Every word was punctuated with a slap to her bottom, a blossomy light pain that made Kira laugh. She turned and saw that Ayla stood over her, her expression quite stern. "Do you understand me, young lady?"

  Kira grinned, putting one hand back to rub her backside, which stung and tingled. "Yes Ma'am. Loud and clear."

  "If you're going to run about causing trouble, perhaps I should spank you at the outset."

  "Spank me?" Kira laughed, greatly tickled by the idea. "Save that for your tender little witches. It will have no effect on me."

  "I disagree," Ayla said. "I think it might make a great impression on you."

  "All due respect to your palm, but I have endured much worse."

  Ayla smiled as if she were privy to some joke that Kira was not. "It is not about causing pain, my little soldier."

  "What is it about then?"

  "A great many things that will probably sound like meaningless words to you if I were to say them now," Ayla replied.

  Kira's temper flared in an instant. She did not at all like the feeling that she was being talked down to. "Oh, I'm too stupid to understand? You think because I'm a soldier I can't be smart?"

  "No," Ayla said patiently. "I am saying some things need to be experienced to be understood."

  "Yeah, because I don't understand words, right?"

  Ayla spun her about and Kira felt the witch's palm curl against her bottom in a touch intimate and yet not sexual. It left her somewhat confounded, trapped in a moment between breaths as her body tingled. She found herself squirming involuntarily where she stood, her face flushing with an embarrassment she didn't understand. Ayla's palm drew back and Kira braced herself for pain, but it returned in a soft pat.

  "Run along, Kira," the witch said, her voice trickling down Kira's spine like honey. "And try not to deface anything else. I will be watching."

  Kira 'ran along' at a slow walk, wondering how it was that the feeling of Ayla's hand lingered even though she could hardly feel Ariadne's harsh lashes anymore. The hair on the back of her neck prickled as she sensed the witch watching her. In a rare moment of empathy for prey, Kira hunched her shoulders and scowled to herself.

  She wandered around the outskirts of the village, trying to pretend that she couldn't feel Ayla's eyes on her with every step she took. There were others about, women tending to their gardens, spinning and sewing or shooing chickens from one place to another. They paid little mind to her and she paid little mind to them, until she caught sight of a familiar face.

  "You," she said, trampling a flower bed as she made her way over to a short, slight framed woman weeding a carrot patch. "I know you."

  The witch froze as she looked up into Kira's face. "Imperial!"

  "Not anymore," Kira said, folding her arms over her chest. "Not if your Ariadne has her way." She looked the woman up and down. "I know where I know you from. You tried to give my men hemlock soup. I had you whipped for it..." She trailed off as her thoughts tumbled about and clicked into place. "So that's why Ariadne whipped me. Tell me, witch, did you tell that hell-beast that you are a poisoner in your spare time?"

  "Help!" The witch began shrieking as Kira loomed large over her. "Help!"

  Having not taken her eyes off Kira for a second, Ayla was there in an instant, making inquiries as to why the witch was shrieking her head off and what role Kira played in the matter.

  "This wretch lied and got me whipped," Kira said, reaching out to take the shivering witch by the front of her dress. "I think I should have my revenge." She lifted the squalling little witch off the ground and snarled into her face quite fiercely, making the unfortunate woman squirm and squeal like a suckling piglet.

  "Put her down, Kira." Ayla's voice didn't suit orders. It wasn't hard enough, or sharp enough or barbed enough. There was no danger in it at all.

  "No," Kira refused. "She had me whipped to within an inch of my life. I think I should return the favor."

  "Please, please show mercy," the little witch begged. "I am sorry, I could not tell the truth for fear of greater punishment. Mercy madame, please."

  "Kira," Ayla said, her voice soft and gentle. "Put her down this instant."

  "Stay out of this," Kira said, not so much as looking over her shoulder. "This is between me and this lying little poisoner."

  Ayla did not stay out of it. She reached out, peeled Kira's fingers away from the witch's dress and let the terrified woman scuttle away. Kira started to give chase, but Ayla looped her fingers in the back of the warrior's vest and brought her up short.

  Snarling and scowling, Kira turned on Ayla, her fists clenched as she looked up into the gently amused eyes of the half-elf witch who never seemed to understand the importance of anything.

  "Do not get in my way," she snarled. "I was dealing with that woman. She almost killed five men in my unit, I'll have you know. And then she had the nerve to come running back here and get old stripy face to hunt me down."

  "That woman was not the only reason Ariadne sought you out," Ayla replied, the ocean blue skeins of her robe blowing in the light breeze. "Your reputation preceded you by the time she presented herself."

  "My reputation for what? Not allowing your witchy kind to get away with cursing and poisoning people and making the cows' milk go bad and spoiling crops and all the rest of it?" Kira folded her arms across her chest. "I had a job to do and I did it." She paused for a moment and looked around briefly before confiding in Ayla in a low hiss. "And you know what? When I get out of here I'll keep doing it. I'll wipe this place off the map, just like I did your little forest hole. There's nothing you can do to stop me. I might not be wearing the uniform, but I'm a captain in the Imperial army. The only thing that will change that is death." Kira's eyes blazed defiantly up into Ayla's, her face contorted with a rage so deep it penetrated her very soul.

  Ayla took a deep breath, nodded and looked toward her little cottage. "Are you hungry? I'm quite hungry."

  "Did you even hear what I said?" Kir
a trembled with rage. "I said I was going to burn this place down, with all of you inside it."

  "Roast chicken," Ayla mused. "Do you like roast chicken?"

  A low growl emanated from the warrior. "Do not ignore me, witch."

  "Oh I'm not," Ayla said, giving Kira small, semi serious nod. "But if we are all to be burned we may as well do it with supper in our bellies." She turned away and began making her way back to her little cottage near the center of the village with a graceful sweeping gait, leaving Kira fuming in her wake.

  "I am an important person, dammit!" Kira shouted after her. "I could destroy you a million times over!"

  Ayla's mild acknowledgment floated to her on the afternoon breeze.

  "Yes, dear. "

  As Ayla retreated to her cottage, Kira took a deep breath. She had been intending to use it to shout profanity after the witch, but even as the air rushed into her lungs her mind worked matters over and yelling no longer seemed to be a good use of her time. She was an Imperial captain after all, and Imperial captains didn't sit around screaming like infants. They overcame great odds. They faced down great foes. They were brave and they were strong and they kept a cool head even in the direst of situations.

  It was strange, Kira thought as she turned on her heel and walked away from the village. Strange how easy it had been to stand up to Ariadne's overwhelming magics and yet she had been so unnerved and emotionally overturned by a simple witch like Ayla. She would have to be careful not to let Ayla get under her skin. Witches could be even more dangerous when they were being nice than when they were being cruel.

  As Kira walked, she could see Lesbia laid out below the mountain town in all its green and gold beauty. It was a stunning, splendid view that inspired both awe and pride in the young soldier. Those were Imperial lands and she was one of the guardians watching over them, even if she was stuck up in the mountains for the moment. Caught up in a self-congratulatory state, Kira failed to notice that the meadow she was walking through came to an abrupt end. Her foot went out and came down into nothingness and it was only through a quick drop and scramble backwards that she saved herself from falling off what turned out to be the edge of a very sheer cliff.

  The meadow grass grew to the very edge of the drop, shielding it from casual view. Kira's heart pounded at the near miss as she crawled forwards on hands and knees to look over the edge into depths so deep that her head spun as some little voice told her how nice it might be just to fall off and go flying out into nothingness. Caught with clenching fear she scrambled back, frowning furiously as she regained what felt more like solid, safe ground.

  Sitting cross legged in the long grass, Kira took stock of her situation. Escape was obviously going to be more difficult than she had anticipated. The village of the witches was nestled between sharp peaks and with this cliff waiting at the end for unsuspecting people and animals to tumble from, it seemed nigh inaccessible. The only promising sight was the large building that sat at the head of the village, nestled in the very apex of the mountains. She assumed it was Ariadne's house, for it was about five times as large as any other building in the village. Maybe there was a cave in there or some other hidden passage that lead out to the world beyond. There was probably quite a lot of interesting stuff in there, now she thought about it. There were probably witchy secrets to be found all over. Kira's eyes gleamed as she thought of the rewards and promotions that would no doubt be showered on her if she managed to return to base with the most intimate secrets of the witches under her belt.

  In a way, Ariadne had done her a huge favor. No Imperial had ever seen this place before, none had so much as suspected its existence. And now she was sitting right in the middle of it, being invited to dinner. With a dark little chuckle, Kira stood and brushed herself off. Roast chicken did sound quite nice now she thought about it.

  "You should really put up a sign or something," she said, thumbing over her shoulder as she entered Ayla's cottage with a casual swagger. "Someone could get hurt falling off that cliff."

  Ayla was in the kitchen, wearing a floral apron and fussing over a large golden roast chicken with an expression of severe concentration on her beautiful face. "Hmmm? Oh yes, the cliff. You shouldn't wander too far," she said absentmindedly. "Especially after dark. The village can be quite strange after dark."

  Kira was going to ask Ayla to elaborate on that, but Ayla was busy poking the chicken with a skewer. "Do you think it is cooked?" The witch cocked her head to the side. "It looks cooked, but I've been taken in before."

  "It looks good to me," Kira shrugged. It did look good, and smell good too, there was a smooth buttery and herb scent hanging in the air promising quite a great deal of digestive delight.

  "Well, we will try it anyway," Ayla said, carving into the bird with a sharp knife. It was cooked. Kira could see that in the way the flesh fell right off the bone. The meat was moist and succulent and when Ayla placed some on a plate with a few whole carrots and roasted potatoes and served it to Kira, the soldier was beyond thrilled. This was a lot better than military rations, that was for sure.

  They sat down for dinner together and Ayla said some little prayer that Kira paid almost no mind to. Fork in hand, she stabbed at a prime piece of chicken and brought it to her mouth, inhaling the flavors deeply as she popped it into her waiting maw. For a moment she thought she tasted heaven, but then she smelled something acrid and felt a crumbling texture in her mouth.

  Gasping as the ash multiplied in her mouth, she clutched at her throat, then spat out the chicken which had turned black and ashen on her tongue. What foul magic could this be? Kira rushed out to the village pump to wash her mouth. The water provided only a little relief, making her tongue taste like the remains of a cold campfire.

  "What the hell did you do to me," she gasped between burbling splashes of water. Ayla had followed her outside, presumably to gloat.

  "That was a roast chicken of good intentions. It only imparts nutrition to those with pure hearts who wish others well. Ayla patted her lips with a napkin as she watched the soldier retching and spitting and sticking her head under the pump with no regard for the water splashing into her nose and eyes. "Those who seek to do harm find their mouths full of bitter ash."

  "Oh fuck you so very hard," Kira swore, wiping her mouth with the back of her land. Black smears came away from her lips and streaked up her arm. "You are a poisoner like the others."

  "But charcoal soaks up poison," Ayla pointed out quite calmly as Kira continued to spit ash everywhere. "Perhaps it has soaked up a little of the poison that lives in you."

  Kira spluttered, overcome with all manner of insults that rushed to mind, demanding to be said all at once. She gave her rage full verbal rein. "You scum licking, frog loving village idiot fucker. Your mother slept with pigs and your father was a swamp dweller... May your toes turn green and your teeth fall out, you treacherous harridan. How dare you and your... chicken judge me? You are nothing. You are less than nothing. You are a worm that feeds on the excretions of the empire."

  She paused for a moment to gather her breath, then continued once more. “No, not a worm. You are a flea on the worm that feeds on the excretions of the empire. You are less than the droppings of a worm. You are not worthy even to gather the droppings of a worm that fed upon the excretions of the empire. That's what you are, you filthy, sniveling, lying, twisted excuse for a woman. You're not even human... you're some kind of hybrid. Not good enough for your own kind so you come to prey on ours. You and all your freakish magic friends. Not good enough for good society so you sit up here away from it all and play tricks on good people."

  Ayla waited for a moment before speaking. "Are you quite finished?"

  "Fuck you." Kira growled. "Now I'm finished."

  "Allow me to retort," Ayla said quite calmly. "You are not a good person, Kira. Not by the largest stretch of the imagination. You are little more than a sanctioned murderer and you have so much blood on your hands that they will never be clean. I did not sa
ve you all those years ago. You died that day and you have not lived since. You are a shell of a person, obedient muscle to any commander with enough feathers in their cap. You don't know what it is to love. You don't know what it is to so much as care. You are empty Kira. Entirely empty."

  Ayla's expression remained sweet as she spoke the terrible words, her great green eyes holding Kira's with a relentless intensity.

  Kira wanted to reject what Ayla was saying, but all that came to mind was more filth and bile and it was not sufficient to counter Ayla's charge. The soldier was left speechless before a most succinct character assassination that deprived her of her humanity, no, more than that, her very existence. She looked at the half-elf witch and felt pure hatred rising in her breast. "If I am what you say I am," she said, breathing deeply. "Then put me out of my misery. Send me back to the place you found me. Send me back to the darkness from whence I came."

  Ayla did not need so much as a moment to consider that offer. "No."

  "What would you have me do then, o animator of worlds, raiser of the dead?" Kira spoke with bitter hurt.

  Ayla turned and raised a graceful arm. "Go inside and go to bed. The hour is growing late and you have seen enough for one day."

  Kira considered refusing, but she did not have the will to fight that much longer. She felt as empty as Ayla had accused her of being. Her heart beating a leaden rhythm in her chest, she put one foot in front of the other until she found herself in front of a straw stuffed mattress. She laid down without removing her boots or her clothes, wanting only to close her eyes and mentally escape the witch's clutches for a few hours at least. She was hungry, terribly hungry, and her mouth still tasted of ash. Ayla's words echoed in her ears, repeating over and over. 'Empty, entirely empty.' Those words were far more painful than any lash Ariadne could ever have wielded and they cut deeper than any blade. Wounded in a way no bandage could mend, Kira turned on her side and silently begged sleep to take her.