by Ther Renard
"I was just talking to Thorberta."
"Well don't," Kira snapped, kneeling to re-bind Thorberta with swift, hard tugs. "She's not a friend. She's a prisoner."
Her face was set hard as she picked Thorberta up by the ropes and slung the bound, befanged young lady over her shoulder.
"Wait for Ayla," she ordered.
Atrocious frowned as Kira strode away with Thorberta.
"Since when do we take prisoners?"
"Since Ayla and Kira kidnapped you," Rogette reminded her. "Only difference between you and Thorbertie is that you're no danger to anyone. You two are both slaves."
"So are you," Atrocious shot back. "Ariadne has you good and mindfucked."
"She appreciates me," Rogette sniffed. "She gives me nice things."
"There's a word for people who get given nice things in return for favors," Atrocious said snidely.
"Say it," Rogette said, some of her mild and refined demeanor sliding away as she pushed the mesh and muslin sleeves of her dress up her arms. They fell right back down again, but the message was clear. "I dare you to say it."
"You're a who... OOWW!"
Atrocious squeaked as strong fingers took hold of her by the ear and pulled her up from the ground.
"That's enough," Ayla said mildly.
She let Atrocious go almost immediately, leaving Atrocious to rub her ear and scowl up at the tall witch.
"She called me a slave."
"I don't care what she called you," Ayla replied. "I will not tolerate any more fighting. If you do, it will be your hide. No matter who said what."
"Oh, so if she pokes my eyes out, I'm not allowed to do anything about it," Atrocious grumbled. "That sounds fair. Hey. I have a better idea. Why don't you just whip me now? Saves time."
Ayla did not reply. She began making her way back to her cottage, going the same way Kira had gone. Atrocious scowled after her.
"Follow your mistress, slave," Rogette chortled.
Atrocious made a rude gesture and hurried after Ayla.
"Hey," she said, catching up with the witch and tugging at her robe. "We're not really going to go hunt some crazy person, are we?"
Ayla did not look down, or reply. She continued walking, leaving Atrocious with one option. She ran ahead of the witch, put her hands on her hips and blocked Ayla's path. There was a strain in Ayla's expression, a certain moistness about the eyes that concerned Atrocious.
"What's wrong?" Atrocious demanded.
Ayla side-stepped her and continued on her way.
"Answer me!" Atrocious yelled after her. She was starting to get annoyed. First swirly face told them they were going to go fight some blood crazed mage, then Kira and Ayla both got into terrible moods, and Rogette got away with being her snotty self. It wasn't fair.
"I don't know what your problem is," she muttered at Ayla's retreating back. "But it's stupid."
Standing in the middle of the village, Atrocious decided that she didn't really want to go back to the cottage. She knew better than to be around when Kira and Ayla were in their moods. Instead she wandered around and found a quiet tree near the void. She shimmied up into the branches until she was surrounded by leaves and looked out over Lesbia.
It all looked peaceful enough to her. There was no sign of a blood crazed witch rampaging through the countryside. Atrocious wondered if maybe Ariadne just wanted to get rid of them.
"Atrocious, come down from there immediately!"
Ayla's uncharacteristically sharp command caught Atrocious off guard. She looked down to see Ayla's piercing eyes through the foliage.
"Why?"
"Because I said so."
Atrocious ignored Ayla. Let the witch get a taste of what it was like to be outright ignored.
"I want you inside in five minutes," Ayla said. "If I have to come and get you, I'll be taking a switch from this tree and using it all the way back to the house."
Atrocious scowled furiously out at the boundless horizon. Just that morning she'd woken curled in Ayla's arms, feeling more loved than ever. And now the woman was snapping at her and threatening her and bossing her around. Atrocious didn't even think she liked Ayla in that moment.
"Use it on yourself," she shouted out from the branches. "I'm not coming down before I'm good and ready."
"Your bottom will be good and red when you do," Ayla rejoined. "You're overdue a spanking."
"You're overdue a...." Atrocious searched for something that made sense. "You're overdue for a not being mean. That's what you're overdue."
"Poetic," Ayla said dryly. "Now come down here."
Giving up on her rebellion, Atrocious slid down the tree, her arms and legs wrapped around the trunk. She was almost at the ground when Ayla caught her by the scruff of the neck and delivered a rather hard slap to her taut cheeks. Atrocious tried to squirm away, but there was nowhere to go. Pressed against the hard tree, she was completely vulnerable as Ayla imparted several more hard, stinging swats to the seat of her pants.
"Naughty koala," the witch murmured.
Atrocious didn't know what a koala was, but she didn't like the way being one made her bottom burn.
Chapter Twenty Four
Having hauled her prisoner across the village, Kira dumped Thorberta down in an unceremonious heap in front of Ayla's cottage.
"So," she said. "You heard what Ariadne said." She reached down and tugged the gag away from Thorberta's befanged face. "What do you know about all of this?"
"Blood Witch." Thorberta smirked.
"Do you know who she is?"
"You know who she is. Everyone knows who she is. She's the Blood Witch."
"That's not what I'm asking."
"Blood Witch eats the world like cake."
It was not particularly useful information. Kira growled and crouched in front of Thorberta. When she spoke again, her voice was low, cold and threatening. "I could take you apart piece by piece if I wanted to."
The threat was lost on her prisoner. Thorberta gave her a look of stone fury and said nothing. She wanted to unleash violence, that much was clear. She was clenching her jaw so hard her fangs dug into her lower lip, two little beads of blood formed at the tips of the pristine white points.
"What is going on here?"
Ayla had come to investigate. She hovered nearby, simultaneously an irritant and ally.
"This girl is connected to the Blood Witch. I intend to find out what she knows.
Ayla gave Thorberta a long, searching look. "No, she isn't."
"Yes, I am," Thorberta declared.
"She's not," Ayla said to Kira.
"She has fangs." Kira pointed to Thorberta's face. “If that is not the sign of the Blood Witch, what is?”
"Those aren't fangs," Ayla replied. "Those are canines. Aren't they, Thorberta?"
Thorberta scowled. "I am servant of Blood Witch."
"She is nothing of the kind," Ayla said, sighing. "Stop lying to us, young lady. People are dying - including your people, may I add."
“Her people?” Kira sat back on her heels. “You know something, don't you?”
Ayla's eyes gleamed as she looked at Thorberta. "It took me a little time to realize, but now I see it clearly. You are half animal, half human. A hybrid caught between species. You were not born, you were made. You are a chimera."
"A chimera?" Kira straightened. "I thought those were just a story."
"Oh no," Ayla said. "Quite real. As you can see."
"No wonder she moves so quickly," Kira mused to herself. "I knew I wasn't out of shape."
"Chimera are guardians," Ayla explained. "They're very quick, very dangerous and usually very loyal."
Kira looked down at her prisoner. "Who are you loyal to?"
"Myself," Thorberta growled.
"Some have been known to go rogue," Ayla noted. "Not all are suitable for service."
Kira looked at Thorberta in much the same way one might look at an interesting statue. "So there are what... witches making these thi
ngs?"
"I am not a thing!" Thorberta's objection came swift and angry.
"A very small, very secretive and very ancient coven knows the secrets of the chimera. Few are made these days. The process is difficult and there are many failures. Only the very best are chosen for service. Those who are less desirable or who show instability are usually... put to sleep."
“Murdered," Thorberta corrected. "They want to kill me. But I will kill them. I kill every witch in Lesbia until there are none to kill me.”
"They were right about the instability," Kira noted.
Thorberta growled. "Not kill me for instability."
"What for then?"
"My hair."
Kira frowned. "Your hair?"
"My hair. Is red."
"So?"
"Guardians do not have red hair."
Kira looked at Ayla. "Is she serious?"
"It is not impossible. Chimera are not regarded as people, they are pets - at best. Much less than that at worst."
"I am people," Thorberta growled.
"You are people," Ayla agreed. "And I am sorry for what you have been through. But we are not the enemy."
"All witches are the same."
"No, we're not," Ayla said. "But you will learn that in good time. Untie her, Kira. She will not harm us."
"I will harm you," Thorberta disagreed. "I will harm you all."
Kira sighed as she bent down to untie the prisoner. "If Ayla trusts you, then I'll trust you too."
"Minion," Thorberta spat. “Your mistress makes your death.”
"She is not my mistress," Kira said, loosing the bonds until Thorberta could wriggle free. "She is my friend."
"Friend?" Thorberta cocked her head to the side, her brow creasing in a perfect picture of confusion.
"Yes, my friend," Kira repeated.
"Is witch word?"
"No," Kira said, frowning. "A friend is someone you like, someone you spend time with. Someone who is special and means a lot to you. You know, a friend?"
"Fruuuuuund." Thorberta sounded the word out slowly, as if she didn't quite trust it.
"Thorberta," Ayla said. "You were created to protect that which matters. Once upon a time, your mistress would have told you what that was. Now you must determine what that is. Do you understand me?"
"Frrrruunnndddddd..." Thorberta tested the word again. "Fruunnnnd."
"What's wrong with her now?" Kira murmured the question to Ayla.
"Dnuurf," Thorberta said, trying it backwards.
"I think we've distracted her for the moment," Ayla said. "Keep an eye on her, and try not to threaten her. You don't want to make her angry."
Kira glanced down at Thorberta, still sitting in the midst of her loose bonds and rolling her tongue around the rrrr's.
"You're telling me we could have avoided all this fuss with a few new words?"
Ayla's expression was enigmatic as she reached down to guide Thorberta up from the ground.
"Never underestimate the power of a new word."
Chapter Twenty Five
Returning from an errand to collect eggs from a nearby cottage, Atrocious discovered Ayla's house empty. There were bags and pouches and boxes all over the place, signs of their impending departure, but there was no Ayla. She set the basket on the kitchen table and went to look for the witch.
"Ayla?"
There was no immediate reply, but Atrocious heard the sound of water splashing and low growling coming from the far end of the cottage. Upon investigating, she discovered Thorberta sitting limp haired in a tub. She was still fully clothed, wearing her robes and a forlorn, wide eyed expression. Ayla was fussing over her, preparing soap for her hair.
"What is going on?"
"Bath." Thorberta said the word sullenly. "I do not like bath."
Frowning, Atrocious stepped into the room. "Why are you having a bath with your clothes on?"
"Thorberta isn't used to baths," Ayla explained, lathering Thorberta's red locks. "She doesn't want to take her clothes off, so we're doing it this way."
"No more bath," Thorberta growled.
"No more baths," Ayla corrected her. "But yes, more baths. Baths every month at least."
"Oh," Atrocious said, perching on a stool and frowning. Something wasn't right about Thorberta. It had been bothering for her for a while. She figured now was as good a time as any to ask. “What's wrong with her? Why doesn't she speak properly?”
Ayla placed the side of her palm at the top of Thorberta's forehead to keep soap and water out of her eyes. She then gently poured water over Thorberta's hair, dislodging the soap and about half of the dirt in Lesbia with it.
"Thorberta only knows how to speak in threats.”
"What?"
"That's the way they all speak where she comes from. There are some words she doesn't know at all."
"Like bath?"
" And frund," Thorberta added.
"Friend," Ayla corrected.
"Friend is a good one," Atrocious said. "I can teach you lots of new words if you like."
"That would be nice of you, Atrocious," Ayla smiled, pleased.
There was a pleasant interlude whilst Ayla finished rinsing Thorberta's hair. The water cascaded out of the red locks, sudsy and brown. If Thorberta had ever bathed before, it had been by accident. She was filthy. The water in the tub was a thick slurry of mud and blood and bits of sticks and leaves and goddess only knew what else. At one point Atrocious was sure she saw a newt surface and scurry away over the edge.
"Hmm," she said thinking out loud. "I know! What about slut, as in, Rogette is a slut."
"Slut," Thorberta repeated. "Slut."
"That's not a nice word," Ayla said. "We won't be using that word. It hurts people's feelings."
"Slut," Thorberta said happily. "I like that word. It sounds harsh."
"It's a nice word," Atrocious lied mischievously. "Like cake."
"Slut cake," Thorberta said, putting the words together.
Atrocious almost fell off her stool with mirth, snorting and giggling to herself with high humor. Whilst Atrocious amused herself at Thorberta's expense, Ayla reached for a towel and dried her hands.
"Spank," she said, keeping eye contact with Atrocious as she spoke. "Do you know that word, Thorberta?"
"Spank," Thorberta repeated. "No, I don't think so."
"Let me show you what it means," Ayla said. "I'm going to spank Atrocious."
"No!" Atrocious leaped off the stool. "No, wait! She knows that word! She knows it!" She pointed a finger at Thorberta. "She's lying, I heard her use it when Kira was going to beat her for being stabby!"
It was Thorberta's turn to cackle with amusement. "You should spank her," she said. "She is naughty. Very naughty."
"That's true," Ayla said. "She is."
"Thorberta is naughtier," Atrocious pointed out, backing away until she was in the very corner of the room. "I was just trying to help."
Ayla stood over her, shaking her head. "You are an incorrigible brat," she said. "You can help by carrying out the bath water. Thorberta is done, I think."
"Thorberta is marinating in her own juices," Atrocious pointed out. "You haven't cleaned her, you've just rearranged the dirt on her. She's going to need another bath, maybe two more baths before all that comes off."
"No more baths!" Thorberta leaped up, dripping with fetid water and rage. "I will destroy those who try to baths me!"
"You will not do anything of the kind," Ayla said firmly. "Atrocious is right I'm afraid. You will have to have another bath."
"No!" Thorberta scowled, her face crumpling into fangy fury. "Nobody dare baths me. I am killer!I am scariest of all blades! I am..."
"Furry," Atrocious said, peering at the water. There were little bits of red fur floating all over the place, forming thick soapy clumps at the surface. "Where are you keeping all that fur?"
"You will never know the secret of my furriness," Thorberta growled. "You are not worthy even to gather the crumbs
from under my fur."
"You keep crumbs under your fur?" It was Atrocious' turn to screw up her face. "I don't know if there are enough baths in the world."
Chapter Twenty Six
In the depths of the high house at the end of Lesbia, cloth was being made. Ariadne was working before a loom so large it stretched from floor to ceiling, a towering plane of fabric to be. Standing on a ladder, she worked diligently at the top of the frame, the lines on her face passing in languid coils like clouds over sky.
"Must I go with them, Mistress?" Rogette wheedled from below.
Ariadne glanced down from her weaving. "Hm? Yes. Yes you must go."
"But it will be dangerous," Rogette said, batting her eyelashes.
"Undoubtedly," Ariadne agreed, focusing her high witchly attention on the weft before her.
"And you will send me into danger?" Rogette pouted.
"It would appear that way." Ariadne's tone was as distant as it was disinterested.
"But..."
Ariadne glared down at her, tired of the constant interruptions. "Your party is soon to depart. Take yourself to them and make yourself useful."
Rogette's pout turned to dismay as it became apparent that she was being dismissed without emotion. Ariadne was tossing her aside like an old pot.
With her shoulders hunched, Rogette turned and began to leave the house she had privately begun to think of as home. So much for that. So much for anything.
"Rogette!"
Rogette turned toward the high witch hopefully.
"There is a package for you at the door," Ariadne said. "Open it before you leave the house."
Rogette found the linen wrapped package with her name on it. She unbound the hemp rope and delved into the contents, which numbered thus: a brown leather vest, well made with fine ornamental stitching, as well as matching leather britches and greaves. There was also a pair of thick woolen leggings, and a similar undershirt. Heavy leather boots completed the outfit. Rogette admired it all, but what impressed her the most was a curved dagger in a leather sheath. When she pulled it out she saw that it was made of folded, tempered steel, the hardest in all of Lesbia. It was the perfect robber's blade.