“Be that way.” A sigh of relief left her lips as he walked inside.
“Thank you.” Lying on her belly across the horse, she hugged and petted the shag foal. “Thank you, you didn’t have to do that. You are very kind hearted and I am sorry for not being nicer on the day we met.”
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Cedric stood in the dark cottage embellished in dream catchers, talismans, and many other ceremonial items. His nose invaded by the many smells of herbs, spices, and ointments that were housed there made him rub it. Wylleam was bent over, digging through one of the boxes that cluttered the floor of the room. Being a Cynocephali, he had the head of a dog with long tall ears, but the body of a man. It was common attire for his tribe to wear light leather clothing and embellishments of beadwork.
Being a Shaman, Wylleam had feathers wrapped into two long flutes of hair that draped down each side of his face as well as painted lines and symbols across his doglike head and furry human chest. The leather chaps he wore had many pouches, all covered in different patterns of beadwork to signify what they held in them. His canine face turned towards Cedric as he stood tall and straight, flicking both his ears. He was easily two feet taller than Cedric as he gave a warm smile; his doggish features were much softer than that of a werewolf. A long dark brown mane bordered the short tan fur on his face, like a hairy headpiece. Cynocephali were peace-loving people who preferred to live within nature, only using what they needed, and most were vegetarian.
“Ah Cedric!” They hugged, patting one another on their backs with great thuds. “It has been a while my friend. What troubles you today?”
“Where do I begin?” Smiling, he gave a hearty laugh at the Shaman and they sat down. “Most of my trouble is outside sitting on a shag foal.”
“Oh! So our assumption on shag foals was correct then?” His large brown eyes seemed to light up. “That is wonderful! How did you manage to get one to approach you though? I thought they only come up to humans?”
“Bait,” Cedric’s smile faded as he glanced at the closed door. “And a curse.”
“Really?” Wylleam looked at the door, raising his nose to the air and sniffing for a moment. “Well now! What an interesting girl you have with you! I never thought you would travel with a magic wielder, with your past history and all.”
“It’s not completely by choice.” Sneering, he rubbed his hands across his forehead and pulled his hair back, staring at his boots. “I somehow missed the fact she had magic in her blood when I first acquired her. Your highness, King Frederick, married me off to a Lady of the Court after a tournament and that’s what I got. I should have picked the prettier one.”
“Married?” The large ears folded back and he shook his lion mane of fur, ruffling it. “You have been busy with collecting quandaries I see. Your power has increased immensely, though. That is edging you closer to your goal, is it not?”
“Yes, at the cost of a night of lusting again.” Sitting up he slouched in the chair, almost pouting as he stared off into the chimney’s fire. “I have devoured an Orm and four heavily enchanted Coinn Iotair within a day’s time. An ancient witch, the ancestor of the bitch outside, set me up. She knew how I fed on demons to gain power and had the whole thing planned. It was worse when I got near the girl, and had to spend the night out in the woods. This is only the second time I have ever had to battle while lusting, and thinking about it makes my skin crawl with excitement. It… I felt like a whore with a fresh batch of virgin soldiers. Never have I let the incubine blood arouse me like that, and I lust for it to happen again, even now. Its taste is still fresh on my tongue.”
“I see. I still do not understand why you deny yourself all of your bloodline’s powers, but an ancient witch you say?” Sniffing the air once more, he hummed, scratching under his canine jaw. “Yes, that is very old magic indeed. That is as old as the magic we use to contact our ancestors with, and possibly older than that. No offense my friend, but that is a very special find you have, both the foal and your bride. I assume you have bedded with her by now.”
“No!” His eyes met with Wylleam’s, and there the Shaman could see a sense of fear in his friend’s eyes. “I refuse to touch her. I will not touch any woman that the incubine blood desires. I have made that mistake before and it still haunts my dreams every night.”
“Ah, so there is still fear behind the purpose of your lusting.” Sighing, he gave Cedric a thoughtful look. “I do not blame you for being afraid, my friend. What happened the last time would haunt any man or demon. Do you know what the witch’s purpose was in increasing your power and sending you into a lusting? Sending her heiress along with someone like you seems rather strange and dangerous.”
“I assume as a form of protection for the girl. Her father let me know that she may never discover her powers, but there is some other magic wielder after the powers her blood holds. The Coinn Iotair were sent to hunt that magic down, and far as I could smell, they came from across the channel in the Northwest. They were doubled in power, enchanted beyond anything I have seen here. Morrighan’s magic holds no chance against what I sensed within those hellhounds.”
“That is clever. May I speak with her? I am curious to meet someone like her.”
“I wouldn’t advise it. She does not hold her tongue and she’s truly a farmer’s daughter.”
“Bring her to me and I will be the judge of that. You can go wash up; you stink of sweat and blood. I wish to free my nose of it.” Sneezing, Wylleam exchanged grins with Cedric. “Let me meet this bride of yours!”
Cedric pulled himself from his seat and opened the door. Eyes closed, Angeline was still lying across the horse’s back, rubbing him down. Whistling jerked her out of her trance. He held the door wide open and flicked his fingers, motioning for her to go in. Biting her lip, she took a moment before deciding to climb down. It was quite the drop, her foot landing wrong under her weight made her limp past him into the cottage. Shaking his head, Cedric closed the door behind her and grabbed the reigns of the shag foal, making his way to water.
“Ah! So you are Cedric’s bride!” Freezing in her steps she looked at the dog headed man, unsure whether to be afraid. “Not to worry, child. I am a shaman, no more than a priest in terms of your belief system. I wish to talk to you.”
“Are, are you Wylleam?” Swallowing, she sat in the chair across from him. “Cedric’s friend?”
“Yes, I see he told you about me.” It was awkward seeing a smile on a dog’s face. “I want to know what the old witch requested of you. Do not worry, I do not intend to share it with Cedric, but as a Shaman, I get whispers from the spirits that follow everyone here. I am being told you were given strict instructions and a task from your ancestor that must be completed.”
“A Shaman who talks to spirits?” Looking about the room, she could see nothing that made her feel she was in danger. Sighing, she turned back hoping that relieving the weight of her distraught into a stranger might make her feel at ease. “The skeleton witch told me she wants me to be bound to Cedric.”
“Bound?” His ears drooped low beside his head, and a frown crossed his muzzle. “How does she expect you to do this with an unboundable abomination such as Cedric? Unnaturally created, through the means of black magic, he is no more than a toy to his creator, Morrighan. Did she explain to you how this is to be done?”
“Yes.” Her stomach twisted as she could still hear the instructions loud and clear. “He is to be in his incubine form when he takes me and then satisfy his moroi bloodline when it calls for it.”
“She said moroi?” The ears pricked forward and the hair on nape of her neck stood on end. “That would be something that Cedric and I had no idea about. We had assumed it was a vampire incubus cross, but this does change things.”
“What is a moroi?” Goosebumps crawled across her skin as she could see the concern on his face. “It’s not a vampire?”
“It is the offspring of two pure blood vampires who truly love one another. It is said that the moroi
are always female, and every time barren, with red hair and green eyes. They eat and drink as humans do and can walk under the sun amongst us. The only special abilities of the moroi are her stamina and strength. It is said she outlives her husband, if she does not overwork him in the bed.”
“Always female?” Cedric’s red hair and green eyes flashed across her thoughts. “But Cedric isn’t female.”
“You can thank the incubus bloodline mixed with Morrighan’s black magic on what he became. Incubus are known for strong stamina and strength as well, with insatiable thirst for the arts of the flesh. It is through these means that an incubus gains his power. Unlike that of vampires who increase with feedings and age, the more women he beds with, the more an incubus’ power increases. Strangely enough, Cedric has discovered by instinct that he gains power by feeding like a vampire on demons. As for how he obtains any power through the incubine standards is still in the dark to him, or he has never revealed that much to me. Other means of gaining power would be terms for binding him to another demon or a magic wielder, but it was thought impossible. Cedric’s only purpose in life is to gain enough power to destroy the Sorceress Morrighan, his creator. He will gain it in any manner necessary.”
“According to her, it is very possible.” This time she lost her fight to the tears as they slid down her cheeks. “I want nothing to do with magic or Cedric. I don’t want to bed with a demon. I’d rather be sent to hell, if I am not already there.”
“And he is too afraid to bed with you. This is interesting.”
“Afraid?”
“Please understand that over one hundred years ago he made a horrible mistake. It is not my place to tell you that story. I will keep your secret as I keep this secret, but he will have to make a decision just as you will. Morrighan was a virgin sorceress when she called the Incubine King Boto to her bed. She willingly bound herself to him and him to her. We can only assume she knew what kind of pact she was making with him, since the ending result was the strongest power gain of all time. Your ancestor has no concerns with Morrighan, but something we all know nothing about. The power gain from your binding will easily surpass theirs.”
Wind rushed through the room, rattling the hanging charms and sending the fire in an uproar. Angeline hugged herself, as she watched his flicking ear as he eyed the fire. The room went silent and the wind fell, leaving objects swinging about them. The same cold breeze had shot through her before from the skeleton witch. In silence, she continued crying, having nothing else she could do in response. As she saw it, her life had no purpose worth treasuring.
“Dear child, you have a strong ancestor that watches over you.” A gentle smile came across his face, and he got up to dig through a large chest. “I have something for you. I hear you are an excellent archer, yes?”
“Yes. I am good with the bow. Did Cedric tell you that?” Rubbing her tears away, she welcomed the change of conversation. “I haven’t had a chance to use it in front of him.”
“I do not rely on Cedric for information.” Chuckling, he pulled out a gorgeous bow, its wood golden and gnarled. “Here, this is yours. I haven’t used it in a very long time. At least you can carry it to protect the both of you. You may not care for Cedric, but he has been a good friend to me. He needs someone to look after him, and since you are stuck with the task of being his companion, you can do this for me.”
Chapter Nine: Venoms, Poisons, & Toxins
Shifting the large bow across her chest, Angeline pulled her collar over her mouth and nose. It was the second time that month they had no choice but to travel across a field laden in decaying bodies from a battle. There was nothing out of the normal seeing a sight like this with so many Lords and Kings in this region. Looking across the land, the corpses were stacked in piles with crows and vultures covering their peaks. Feeling sick, her stomach twisted as a wolf dragged entrails away from his pack members. The scavengers were fighting one another for any piece of it. She buried her face into Cedric’s back. He grunted in response, spitting at the ground as the shag foal delicately stepped its way through the rotting filth.
They had both given up on arguing with one another at this point. The only words that were spoken were out of necessity. Cedric’s routine was to tell her where to camp and he would leave her there with the horse he now called Barushka. She would stay there next to the fire, he would come back, drop off rabbits and leave again. He never stayed any longer than that, sleeping elsewhere in the woods was her guess. Every morning started with him nudging her with his boot and nodding for her to pack up. It was hard to say who was avoiding whom in terms of eye contact. There was a sensation of dread that was ever growing each time they mounted Barushka and forced to be close to one another for yet another day.
The rank smell hit her nose, despite using the collar and Cedric’s back as a shield, her stomach lurched. Gripping his shoulder, she jerked the turtleneck down; leaning as far as she could manage without falling off, she began to vomit. Barushka neighed and stifled to the side, shaking his head. Stopping to let her finish, the horse watched with great concern as his friend fell ill. Cedric had found it annoying that his rare steed had grown attached to Angeline to the point that he would cater to her and not what he needed him to do.
“Is that necessary?” Spooked to hear Cedric’s voice, she winced as she spit out the last of the foul taste. “Could you hold it for when we get past here? I don’t find it appealing myself.”
“Sorry it hit my nose and-” Lunging forward, another round started as it fell across the ground with a splatter. “I tried to hold it but, but it was either you or the ground.”
“Oh my,” A female voice came from the top of a nearby body pile. “She looks rather green. I must admit, it’s a pretty shade.”
“Nemaine,” Cedric growled up at the woman. Her Greek goddess attire was revealing, gold accessories were loud and decorated with skulls. Thick green hair fell behind her as long as she was tall. The white cloth only made the green snakelike markings across her face, arms, and legs stand out. “I have no business with you, Sorceress.”
“Oh! But are you not my sister’s lost puppy?” Sitting there on the decaying bodies, Nemaine was holding a half-rotten head in hand, picking off the remaining flesh. “If I were a good little sister, I would be eager to return you to her, but we all know that’s not me. I am more of the type of sibling that sneaks off with everyone’s favorite toy. Unfortunately, I carry the reputation of breaking them.”
“I am not your sister’s toy.” Cedric’s hand gripped the hilt of his sword as he snarled at Nemaine. “Let us pass. I have no quarrel with you, only Morrighan.”
“I have no intentions of stopping you. I am up here, collecting new skulls for my collection.” Pausing from her grotesque activity, she leaned to get a better view of Angeline who buried her face into Cedric’s back, feeling a mixed wave of security and need to be close as possible to him. “Wait a moment. What is she doing there behind you anyhow, dear Cedric? It’s been a while since you have carried a female with you.”
“A curse.” Spitting at the ground he made some clicking sounds with his mouth. “Move Barushka, we have no time for this.”
“A curse? You lie! Since when does our abomination carry a girl with him?” He could feel Angeline’s fist grip his shirt in response, and he shifted in the saddle as Nemaine laughed. “You are like a long lost little brother to me! Which brothel did you find this one? Oh, please do tell! She must make love like a starving animal for you to keep her! Let me have a look at your new toy! Or what was the other name you give them, oh yes, pet.”
“I’ve heard enough of your taunting.” They cantered down their path, but Nemaine leaped off her mountain of rotting flesh, walking close behind them. “Nemaine I am in no mood for talking. Perhaps you should call upon your sister Badbh. She should still be close I imagine by the looks of this battle.”
“Badbh?” Nemaine’s face twisted in disgust, making her stop in her steps. “We never see eye to eye.
She tells me how inferior my methods are and I point out how she has destroyed her body in her barbaric methods of battling in wars. I have nothing to talk to her about.”
“I am too busy to hear your complaints. I have much to do before I go pay Morrighan a visit.” Angeline could feel his back muscles tightening, and once more, another wave washed over her, making her feel aroused. “There are other things I rather be doing, besides riding my horse.”
“Of course! I would expect the offspring of Boto to have better things to ride.” Cedric pulled Barushka to a stop, looking back at her, his jaw tight. “Oops, did I let that slip? How forgetful of me, it never crossed my mind you would want to know that. It’s amazing, the older I get the more forgetful I am of such important information. Dear Cedric, please forgive me for not remembering who your daddy was. I hope I helped you and made your day so much more delicious!”
“I am spawn of the King of Incubus himself?” Another wave went through Angeline, making her exhale to attempt to relieve this new sensation of excitement. Shuddering, she refused to move, afraid to be caught in the crossfire of his eyes or worse, subject of Nemaine’s taunting again. “It explains a lot. Perhaps your tongue has more information for me, perhaps my mother’s hierarchy?”
“Nope, doesn’t ring any bells. He must have humped her good to get something like you out of her. I hear he’s infamous for killing a majority of the females he beds with.” Shrugging, a coy smile crossed her red lips, wicked in nature. “Not a thing more for you little brother, I am so sorry. Are you going to cry about it?”
Cedric the Demonic Knight Page 7