by Justin Sloan
“Is this the punishment or encouragement?” he asked, his voice a half-whisper as he shuddered at the thought of the pain hitting him again.
“A bit of both,” the second woman said, eyes still white as she removed her clothes and straddled him. “We like to keep you motivated while reminding you that your actions have consequences.”
The magitech rod hit again, so that he once more experienced an instant of bliss and excruciating pain.
His shout was both a scream of pain and moan of ecstasy, and in that moment he saw the goddess herself riding him. Her glow filled the room and then he was unconscious, lost to either the pain or the pleasure—he couldn’t be sure which.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The waters were harsh, but not half as harsh as the shouted orders from Stone as he commanded Rhona and the rest of them. His frustration at their lack of sailing knowledge was growing by the hour, and it showed itself in constant cursing as his voice got louder and louder.
“Can you get us there or not?” Alastar finally said, giving up and holding tight to a rope the man had thrust into his hands, but otherwise looking just as confused as Rhona felt.
“Everyone else, stay out of my damn way,” Stone demanded, jaw jutting out. “Alastar, just shut up and look pretty while doing what I say and, aye, we’ll get there.”
Rhona wasn’t about to complain, and moved to the back of the boat. She hoped that by standing there, the sail, or the ropes, or any of the rest of it wouldn’t hit her.
She stared up at the passing night, the moon moving toward the horizon, and must have stood there forever before she noticed that Tina had joined her.
Tina acknowledged her with a smile and a nod, then shouted over the howling wind, “You’ve changed.”
Rhona laughed. “And you haven’t?”
Tina nodded and held her hands out as if to spin, but decided against it when the boat hit a wave and forced them to grab the railing for stability. “Stone thought the look suited me, and made me less recognizable should the paladins be around.”
“Look at us.” Rhona chuckled, then breathed in the ocean air. “A couple of outcasts.”
“Me and Stone…we never belonged in the Order.” Tina leaned in conspiratorially and shouted, “We’re planning on getting married!” just as the wind died down, so that the others looked over in surprise.
Tina blushed, and Rhona couldn’t help but notice the annoyed look from Stone.
“I guess that was supposed to be a secret?” Rhona asked.
“Aye, I guess. But honestly, I can’t see why. Not from you lot, anyway.”
“We’re in this together, at this point,” Rhona declared. “But how exactly are you going to get married without a paladin?”
“Do it the way of the clans,” Tina replied. “Get one of their holy women to perform the act.”
“Stone would go for it?”
“That’s why he doesn’t want anyone knowing.” Tina blew the man a kiss, and he couldn’t help but smile as he returned his attention to sailing. “He might have left the Order of Rodrick for me, and because of what happened to you both, but that doesn’t mean he’s totally abandoned his faith and all that. Still sees the clans as a bit of an enemy, truth be told.”
“You mind keeping less of the truth told?” Stone shouted back.
Tina blushed, but shrugged.
Rhona, knowing it was time to change the subject, watched the land of Sair Talem approaching. The moonlight shone on the low, rolling hills of the coast, old wooden posts sticking up in places where she imagined there had once been a pier.
“Can you believe this is happening?” she asked. “I mean…Sair Talem! The older paladins used to tell us stories of this place when we were children.”
“Horror stories.” Tina shivered, wrapping her arms around her torso. “If we stumble across the Lost Caverns, I swear to the Saint that I’m not letting Stone leave my side for a second.”
Rhona felt a chill run up her spine at the thought of the Lost Caverns. Many of the tales she had heard about these lands originated there. They said that during the Age of Madness, families had carved caves and tunnels into the hills to hide from the people who had contracted the madness, but it didn’t work, since the madness seemed to strike people at random. Soon the hiding places became tombs. They were stuck in there, hearing the shouts and screams of others as their own turned or outsiders broke in.
Now they might as well call the whole area the Lost Tombs; the title would be more accurate.
More than the place’s fair share of monster stories had sprung forth from this period, not the least of which was the tale of the ghost of Rodrick. While many believed Rodrick to be a saint and said that if he had died in Sair Talem, he had sacrificed himself to help bring an end to the madness there, stories told outside the paladin castle walls had labeled him “Rodrick the Butcher.” They said he had used his sword on anyone who wasn’t part of his personal guard, that he had slaughtered them all in the name of sanity. Those stories said he was convinced the madness had originated in Sair Talem, since the winds went from west to east, and that he meant to kill them all to ensure it stopped its spread.
Seeing as the Age of Madness had ended not long after he had left for Sair Talem, no one could confirm or deny this. However, the paladins insisted that Saint Rodrick went there to protect the lives of everyone in Roneland and Sair Talem, and that he would never have been capable of such slaughter.
The worst part of it was the stories that were told in the villages at night, when they thought no paladins or ladies of the castles were listening. Whisperers spoke of a man who remained in Sair Talem, a leader among the surviving remnant, who bore Rodrick’s sword. They said that he cried blood, that his eyes glowed red, and that he lived on, sworn to destroy all to end the illness and that, to this day, he would slaughter any living creature that set foot on the island.
Rhona had to admit the idea terrified her. Not just because it had been relayed to her beside a fire at night by an old woman whose storytelling abilities surpassed all others she had known, but because there seemed to be some truth to it.
She had heard other stories of people with red eyes from long ago, creatures of the night that had changed the world in the days before the Age of Madness. When she first asked if they were talking about the remnant, who had glowing red eyes, the storyteller had simply laughed. Something way more powerful than that, the storyteller had told her.
Was it so unthinkable that one of them had remained? That one still lived, with the sole purpose of death and destruction?
She shuddered at the thought, and noticed Tina staring at her.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you go into spaced-out crazy mode,” Tina said with a look that made Rhona wonder if the woman thought she was crazy.
“I’m fine, really.”
“Great. Because I was about to say, if you’re so freaked out, I’m sure Stone can lend you his other arm.”
Rhona laughed and hit her friend playfully on the shoulder. “I’ll have you know I’m quite powerful these days. Or so I’m told.”
Tina nodded, a look of unease taking over. “So I hear.”
“My powers bother you?”
“It’s just that…” Tina glanced around, then leaned in again. “Where do they come from? Your powers, or magic, I mean. Is there any truth to what they say? That you’re—you know—evil?”
Rhona burst into laughter. When she was done, she wiped a tear form her eye and said, “It’s not like that. Not at all.”
Tina nodded. “Good. But if I see you slaughtering goats and dancing naked, I’m running the other way.”
Rhona bit her lip. “The only naked dancing I’ll be doing anytime soon will be horizontal, and that won’t happen until we’ve united the lands and stopped this war. So let’s get to it, shall we?”
“Oooh, there’s a man waiting for you somewhere?”
“He belongs to one of the clans, actually,” Rhona told her, smiling at t
he expression of surprise on her friend’s face.
“You dog!” Tina exclaimed. “Is it true? What they say about their…you know?”
“I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Tina leaned back, gave her a skeptical look, and then held her hands far apart.
It took Rhona a moment, and then she hit her friend again. “First, that’s inappropriate. Second, I have no idea yet. Third, if any man were that…cursed, a woman would be in too much pain to walk ever again, I imagine.”
With a laugh, Tina added, “Not that I would care about such things. Just, one hears stories.”
“Well, shut up with your stories and your ridiculous questions.” Rhona leaned back against the railing, trying her best not to imagine Donnon removing his kilt only to scare the hell out of her with something that belonged on a horse.
Of course she wanted to be intimate with him, but that had nothing to do with her attraction to him. Maybe it was good, though, that Tina had given her something else to be scared of other than ghost stories and armies of remnant.
“I’m glad you two can find such levity,” Estair remarked, joining them with a glance at the land as the boat sailed up to part of a pier that still stood, “considering what we’re about to get ourselves into.
“I can’t think of a better time for it,” Tina replied with a shrug.
Rhona had to agree. “Nothing like a good laugh before riding into the gates of hell.”
“We were just talking about—” Tina started, but Estair cut her off with a raised hand.
“I know what you were talking about. This boat’s not so small. We all know.”
Rhona blushed, feeling like they had all read her thoughts too.
“No one loves a good sex story or related rumors more than me,” Stone began, throwing fore and aft ropes around one of the wooden beams of the broken dock to keep the boat from floating off. He jumped onto the dock, checked its sturdiness, and motioned the others up. “But I’ll be honest, it’s the farthest thing from my mind right now.”
“Seconded.” Alastar joined him on the dock and then helped Estair up. “All I can think about is how I wish to the Saint I could get a good night’s sleep sometime soon. Glad I got that nap in.”
“You had a nap?” Stone asked. “Then shut your mouth, because I barely slept last night,” his eyes flashed to Tina in a mischievous way, “and I doubt we’ll get much sleep tonight, for very different reasons.”
“Let’s get our bearings.” Estair glanced at the moonlit hills covered with scattered shadows from the clouds above. “See if there’s a place to set up camp, and get what rest we can.”
“If you think that I’m going to sleep here, you’re out of your mind.” Tina licked her lips, eyes darting around nervously.
“Great! You have first watch then,” Estair replied with a wink, then led the way onto land.
“She’s a peach,” Tina said sarcastically, quietly enough that only Rhona heard, and followed.
As Rhona stepped onto land, Alastar came up beside her, hand on the hilt of his sword. “Remember, try to avoid using magic if there’s trouble. We don’t want to drain ourselves out here, surrounded by unknown lands and unknown evils.”
“Trust me, I’ll only use it if completely necessary,” she replied.
He nodded and the two strode off after Estair and Tina, Stone taking up the rear. At first it was just green grass and rolling hills, or so it appeared, but when they started down the first hill, the clouds above moved to let the moonlight in, and Rhona gasped.
This place was completely different than she had imagined. In the darkness the ground had appeared to be an expanse of grassy beauty, but instead smoke rose in places and everything in view was scorched. In some areas the earth appeared to be recovering from older fires; here and there new trees pushed through the earth. But glowing embers still remained in others, indicating the fire had likely stopped even just that day.
“At least we know there’s life here,” Estair mused. “I mean, there has to be, right? Based on this?”
Alastar scratched his head, thinking. “Unless it’s something to do with the weather and dry grass?”
“The grass was green where we landed,” Stone pointed out, crinkling his nose and rubbing his bald head. “The remnant aren’t smart enough to start a fire, are they?”
“My guess is they’re more capable than many of us think,” Rhona said. “If it can kill or hurt, my guess is those bastards can do it.”
“Imagine if a remnant somehow learned how to use fire magic,” Tina offered, looking at them all with wide eyes, likely wondering if it could actually happen. “With their lack of control, it could be devastating.”
“First of all, no,” Alastar, the sudden authority on magic, replied. “I mean, I have to believe that’s not possible. It seems magic comes from a deeper place than they’re capable of.”
“The clan children can do magic,” Rhona said. “So?”
Alastar considered this, then shook his head again. “No, I still don’t think so. I’m willing to bet we’ll find life here. In fact—”
Both he and Stone turned to each other at the same time. “The holy quest!” they shouted in unison.
“The what?” Estair asked.
“Paladins,” Alastar explained. “Groups of paladins have been coming here for years in search of the Sword of Light. The holy quests, these journeys are called.”
“What, and in all that time no paladin has found the sword?”
“Aye, that’s correct.”
Estair breathed out, frustration clear from the furrowing of her brow. “Then I can’t wait for us to be the exception to the rule, I guess. But just so I’m clear, at what point do we give up?”
“Give up?” Stone thumped his chest like a warrior. “Paladins don’t give up!”
“I understand.” Estair spoke slowly now, as if explaining something to a child. “But here’s the thing. At some point, we will run out of supplies and die. I want to know if we’re smart enough to try something else before that happens. Plus, both of you have pretty much abandoned the paladins. And there’s the point that your holy quests send paladins here every once in a while, I’d imagine.”
“Aye, so?”
“So…giving up?”
“No, just resting while another group continues the search.”
“Okay.” Estair rubbed her temples, growing impatient now. “At what point do they return to rest? How long do they come here for?”
Stone considered this. “My last quest lasted a month, tops.”
“And yours?” Estair turned to Alastar.
“Er, sore subject there,” Rhona warned. “He hasn’t technically been on a holy quest yet.”
Alastar’s face went pale. “Until now.”
“What?”
“Well, this is our holy quest, isn’t it? But that got me thinking. If the High Paladin were going to send me on a holy quest, and if a group’s here now, I would have been among them.”
“Funny how the timing works out,” Stone replied, nodding his head. He put his meaty arm around Alastar. “And even funnier, I probably would’ve been on the quest with you. And here we are.”
“Let’s achieve what no other paladin ever has,” Alastar challenged, glancing around. “Are you all ready?”
“For what?” Stone asked.
Alastar simply smiled in response, then held out a hand as his eyes glowed with a golden light.
“Holy…” Tina took a step back, then bowed her head.
“It’s like I said.” Rhona nudged her to get her to look up. “Magic.”
Alastar nodded as the light fairy appeared in his hand, danced around, and paused to look at him.
“Is that all she does?” Stone asked.
“In the past, she flew to people you cared about,” Rhona offered.
“Or otherwise had some connection with, right?” Estair added.
“Right.” Rhona considered this, then asked,
“Who else would’ve been on that quest?”
“We know Taland isn’t, because he’s pillaging the clans,” Alastar moved his hand around, watching the fairy move with it. “But—”
“Young Elwick,” Stone stated.
Alastar spun on him, golden eyes narrowed, furious. “They were going to give that little whelp a quest? What’d he do to earn it?”
“Being the nephew of a laird means you get to skip the queue at the market,” Stone reminded him wisely.
In spite of the boy being spoiled, Alastar had connected with him more than once. They had both been young, they had both trained, and they had both spent many evenings staring up at the stars, wondering what it would be like to go on a quest.
Alastar gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, focusing. Suddenly the fairy was off, darting into the night and leaving a faint trail in her wake.
“After her!” Alastar shouted, and they all ran as fast as they could, careful to avoid patches of soot or points where the fire still burned.
They seemed to travel on and on, until Rhona’s legs cramped and her breaths burned. She wanted to ask that they stop, but refused to be the weak link. If there was a reason their mission failed, it damn well wouldn’t be her. Burnt hills continued, broken only by the occasional stream or small group of trees that had somehow survived.
Scents of ash and death, like rotten meat partially cooked before being cast aside, permeated the air. If she didn’t need to breathe to keep up the pace, Rhona would have pulled the shirt they had acquired from the market up over her nose to block out the smell; as it was, she did all she could just to keep up. She would simply ignore the smell, she told herself.
Her mind reached for any distraction she could find, and soon settled on the stars above, now showing through a large opening in the clouds. It was amazing how many stars shone here, even more than back home. They were bright, formed in layers, it seemed, and so awe-inspiring that she craved to stop and simply stare at their majesty.
Instead she pushed on, turning her attention back to the fairy of light that led their way, her trail cresting a particularly tall hill ahead. Grass grew here in patches, blowing in a gust of heavy wind in a way that reminded her of ripples across the ocean. Or maybe she simply hadn’t fully gotten the unease of being on land again out of her system yet.