Sacrifice

by Underwood, Patrick

  “You can call me Diane,” she said, so softly I could barely hear her.

  “Do you want to come with us? I can promise your safety and I will not come close to you if that makes you uncomfortable.”

  She gazed up at me with those eyes again. Her hair now falling over most of her face, ratty and full of dirt that had not been cleaned in some time.

  She nodded at me. “I would like to leave now. Will you take me out of the city?”

  Tas reached up and pushed the hair back behind her ears. The girl tried to stop her, but it was too late.

  We all saw it.

  Her ears ended in points, unlike any human we had ever seen.

  She started and tried to make a break for it, but I reached forward and stopped her.

  When my hand made contact, it was then that her skin flashed a yellow hue in front of my eyes.

  They were right, she’s a witch, an elvish one at that.

  I backed away from her, realizing my mistake. “Sorry, we did not mean to startle you, but…”

  “We’ll take care of it, love,” Tas said, taking my place around the nervous woman in front of me.

  “Shhh,” Tyla said. “He will not hurt you, and we will protect your secret as well.”

  Tyla placed the woman’s hair around her ears again.

  The woman, shaking from the fear of the last few moments, managed to nod. “Th… thank you.”

  “Let's go,” I said, looking around to make sure no one had seen us. The crowd was fully gone. “We go to the Inn, see if Stern is there, and we get out of here as quickly as possible.”

  I turned to Diane once more. “You can stay with us, or you can leave as soon as we leave the city. You can have as many supplies as we can spare if you choose to go.”

  Not waiting for a response, I started walking the direction we thought the inn was in, glancing around for further threats.

  I checked behind us and saw that Diane was wedged between Tyla and Tas. They each had an arm around the Elf as though they were almost carrying her.

  A few minutes later, we hit a smaller market. This one was obviously where the poor shopped. It had market stalls just like the main, but only half the amount and the structures worn and broken in places. The tarps that covered each were ripped in various places.

  “Excuse me, ma’am,” I said to a woman in one of the few open stalls.

  The older woman stared at me, her gray hair covering her face, before standing up and walking over. “What do you want? You don’t look like you should be in this part of town.”

  “I was hoping,” I said, pulling out a small copper and placing it on the table next to the nearly rotten fruits she sold. “That you might tell me where the Twin Badger Inn was?”

  She pocketed the coin in a flash then pointed down the street towards the far end of the market. “First on the right past the building on the corner there.”

  She turned and went back to the stool she was sitting on.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  She did not reply, and we walked towards our destination, rounding the corner, the woman had pointed to and the dilapidated houses that it represented.

  We came to another building, all made of wood. It reminded me of an old western saloon more than the Witch’s Haunt back in Hills Crest. It was in disrepair now, but it might have been nice at one point.

  We walked through the doors and the girls went to an empty table in the corner while I went up to the bar.

  The bartender nodded at me, a tall man with a black beard that was showing streaks of gray. “What can I get ya?” the man asked.

  “Something to drink, and some information, please,” I said, putting the last large copper we had on the table.

  “We have ale, dark or light. Not much else. The information depends on what you ask.”

  “Was supposed to meet an associate of ours. Name was Henri Puchot,” I said, giving the code name we had agreed upon.

  “Yeah, a man like that said he might get visitors. He has a room upstairs. I’ll send the runner.”

  “Thanks. Uh, just a few light ales and a tea if you have any.”

  I left the coin on the table and joined the ladies while the bartender went into the back. He came out again a few minutes later and set the light ales on the table. No tea was in evidence.

  Without saying a word, he went back to his bar, and we waited.

  The ale was horrible, and I was fairly sure it was half water.

  “How is she doing?” I asked Tas.

  “I am doing… fine. Thank you for intervening before they…,” Diane said.

  “Let’s not think about that too deeply right now,” I said. “Do you want to tell us how you are here? I have not met any of your… kind before.”

  “Master, maybe now is not—”

  “It’s fine,” the Elven woman said. “I don’t mind. I was just shocked before how quickly things transpired.”

  I sat in silence as she gathered her thoughts, noticing that Tyla and Tas sat on each side of her with their arms on her shoulders in support.

  “I… don’t normally stay in the city, too dangerous because of my… difference. I was just getting some food, the woods here are so barren of food to eat. But I should have known better, the city has been getting… less safe lately, but I was hungry.”

  “I still don’t understand why you are here,” I said.

  “I do not really remember much about how I got here. My family came here when I was incredibly young. We were fleeing something, I think it was the Demigods, but I do not remember for sure. My family left me here… and I have been surviving on my own since.”

  “Left you here?” I asked.

  She looked down at the table, not answering.

  Relenting, I changed topics. “Is Diane really your name?”

  Her face crinkled as she thought about it. “I… don’t remember my real name. I picked this one after listening to some humans. It… got me by.”

  I sensed a much deeper story here, but did not want to pry just yet, she had been through enough. “You don’t have to say anymore. Have you eaten?”

  She shook her head, and I walked over to the bartender. “You have any food?”

  “Bread, couple of days old. Pot of stew on.”

  “Four please,” I said, giving him a small copper. The man nodded and made another trip to the kitchen, bringing out the food a few minutes later.

  While it was not the best thing in the world, Diane ate with abandon at the meager offerings. Each of us ate some while we waited, my girls and I trading looks in silence.

  After a while, a man came down the stairs from the rooms upstairs. He had chocolate colored skin and a military bearing to him with close cropped curly hair and nice, if plain, woven clothing. A short sword was strapped to his waist. I did not recognize him, but he walked towards us with a neutral expression on his face.

  “Derk?” he asked.

  I stood, clearing my great sword so that the table did not block it, just in case. “I am, and you are?”

  He looked me up and down, gauging me as he decided on his next words. “Cecil is my name. I am Lea’s husband.”

  “Where is Stern?” I asked.

  “He… we are not sure. He broke out Lea and some women with the help of a few of the guards that were not turned yet and met up with the rest of us. Before we could escape the city, the guards loyal to… him found us. We ran while he led them away. He never met us like he promised. All we knew was to meet you here and the name to check in under.”

  I nodded. “Where is everyone else?”

  “Not here, we… did not want to take the chance. If you can help us like Stern said you could… Well, let’s just say you are going to have to earn that trust from me, but Lea trusted her cousin enough to convince me to give you a chance.”

  “Fair, how many of you?”

  “Just a couple dozen, outside the city, mostly.” He stopped and peered back at the bartender before closing in on me to whisper.
“He broke out about seven other chosen with my wife, and a few of their lovers and husbands met up with us when we ran.”

  “Okay,” I said. “You want to trust me enough to take us to them?”

  “Do I? No. But I promised Lea.”

  “Fair enough. Let the girls finish eating and we can get out of here. You need to go get your stuff?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, be back in a few minutes.”

  He eyed each of us before he left and went back upstairs.

  “Thoughts?” I asked.

  Tyla answered, “I should test him, Master.”

  “Good idea, before we leave the city, we will find a place where no one can see. Don’t want to do it here. I don’t trust the barman,” I said in a whisper.

  She nodded, and we waited for Cecil to return.

  30

  Interlude - Anger

  “Yes, Overseer,” Seir said into the black mirror.

  He was in his personal study that he had built into the old castle of Nitre, his own god's sanctum sealed against all outside spies, even those who were not of this world. This allowed him to bend the rules and talk to his benefactor.

  “I have done what I can in the counsel,” the voice representing the Overseer said.

  While he was one of the most powerful people in the Roxannez Empire, Seir hated working for anyone. He had spent his entire life, before the Great Ascension, climbing to the top of Roxannez society.

  Then he had been stuck as a servant to the Overseer ever since, until he had a chance to come to Timeria and make his own destiny.

  “The Controller thwarts me,” Overseer continued. “He has just enough votes to stop any further changes to four-five-two and I cannot get the data that you seek. The Demigod you met is unknown to me. Assume he is working against your interest, probably for the Controller himself.”

  “Yes, Overseer. I will take matters into my own hands, then.”

  “Be cautious, Takus pushes his elves in your direction. We cannot lose the game, too much rides on it.”

  “Why can you not simply remove the Controller?”

  “That is above your station. Your job is to control the humans for me.”

  “Yes, Overseer,” Seir said, doing his best at keeping his anger in check.

  “Go now, prepare yourself for an attack from the north. Worry less about the Controller’s pet to the south. Send some of your lieutenants to deal with him, he cannot possibly be that powerful yet.”

  “By your command.”

  “Go now,” the Overseer said, and the connection stopped.

  Seir’s knuckles were white as he resisted the anger inside. He hated being treated like a servant.

  Seir stomped out of his study, the seals breaking as the door opened. His women were where he left them, in their subservient positions next to his throne. None of his personal spies had returned, but they each had their mission. Their abilities to please him were secondary to their tasks.

  Besides, his favorites were always close.

  He sat on his throne and tried to relax.

  “What news, Husband?” Josephina asked.

  “None. The Overseer had no information of use to me,” Seir said as he slammed his fist on the chair.

  The impact made the arm crack.

  Josephina snapped her fingers. Patricia, Miranda, and Einestra got up from their positions at his side to present themselves to their master. Each of them was naked.

  Seir viewed the three ladies, thinking for a bit before shaking his head. “Not now, resume your positions.”

  Each bowed their heads and returned to their places, kneeling near his throne. Seir thought of what he wanted to do to relieve his anger.

  “Guard!” he yelled.

  The door opened and a muscular guard poked his head through. “Yes, my King?”

  “Send in the prisoner and General Taimana to me at once.”

  The guard bowed. “Yes, my Liege.”

  “Patricia, stand in front of me,” Seir said.

  She did as commanded, standing directly in front of him and facing away. Seir appreciated her ass just for a moment, then reached forward and grabbed the small handle she presented him. A small ring just big enough for his finger. He pulled her over to where he wanted her, directly in front of his right arm, and kept his grip. Her new position now gave him a clean line of sight directly in front.

  A knock, and then the door opened, the guard announcing the General with his prisoner.

  A tall black man led the procession, escorted by two guards that held a prisoner between them, dragging him under his armpits.

  The hood prevented Seir’s ability to see the man’s face, but he wore tattered clothing and was covered in bodily fluids and residue. His arms were locked behind a wooden pole, and his feet were clasped in chains. The smell of decay and death permeated the air, originating from the prisoner.

  They paraded in front of Seir, putting the captive in a kneeling position only six feet in front of Seir’s throne. General Taimana stood ramrod straight right behind the filthy man. His nose was covered by a handkerchief to keep some of the smell at bay.

  “General, report.”

  “We assaulted the fort, my King. The garrison did not fight against our attack; they had offered to surrender multiple times before this and hoped we would take mercy. We rounded them up in the center after a thorough search. Only about half of the original army had survived to this point.”

  “What killed them?” Seir smiled, already knowing the answer.

  His purpose was torment, not actual information.

  “Some of them died from disease and starvation. The rest were… devoured by their comrades, according to reports from the survivors, my liege.”

  The prisoner dropped his head, the sounds of sobbing coming from under the hood. Through the baggy clothing, Seir could see the emaciated condition of the man’s body.

  “And then?” Seir asked, enjoying himself immensely.

  “We dispatched them as you ordered. All except the prisoner here.”

  “How many total?”

  “We killed over two thousand men, a few women, none of them Chosen. The prisoners said the empowered all killed themselves.”

  Seir pulled on Patricia’s ring and guided her into his lap. Seated, she leaned back onto his chest with her head on his shoulder. He used his hand to spread her legs wide.

  “Would you like me to pleasure you now, my lord?” she asked.

  “In a moment. Remove the prisoner’s hood.”

  The guards removed the hood from the prisoner’s head, his eyes blinking rapidly at the sudden light. No one made a sound as he adjusted, though Seir caressed up the legs of Patricia, slowly making his way to her nether regions while the prisoner adjusted to the light.

  The man's face was gaunt, his cheeks hollow, and his eyes red with tear streaks marked in dirt on his face.

  Broken.

  “Micheal!” Seir said as if they were old friends. “So good of you to visit us.”

  Patricia sat on Seir’s lap as he smiled at the imprisoned man. His hand reached up in between her legs, moving back and forth slowly, making her moan softly. Her eyes were closed, her legs wide, as she exposed the entire view of her dripping entrance to the doomed man in front of them.

  “I wanted you to see that your wife is now mine, giving herself freely to my every wish and desire.”

  Micheal winced and tried to look away, but the guards moved his head back to the direction of Seir and Patricia. When he tried to close his eyes, the other guard pulled them open.

  “How does that make you feel, Micheal?”

  The man moaned in despair rather than give an answer before his sobbing renewed.

  “Patricia, what would you do if I offered you this man’s life and allowed you to leave?”

  Micheal’s eyes refocused on hers, as a small glimmer of hope tried to break through, but Patricia did not even look in his direction. “I would not, my king. You are my lord and master now.”<
br />
  Micheal’s face went slack, and the sobbing resumed. The guards finally released their hold on him.

  “Would you kill him for me?”

  “Yes, my King.”

  “Do it. Drown him alive.”

  Micheal lifted his face, deciding to meet his fate. The sobbing ended with a brave look of acceptance taking over. Patricia’s hand lifted but hesitated just for a second. Almost unnoticeable by anyone else in the room, save one. She glanced at her former lover as he saw the tiniest glimmer of moisture in her left eye, barely there for a heartbeat before she blinked it away.

  She willed water from her hand into a sphere, sending it forward quickly. The globe encased Michael’s head and cut him off from the air around him. She formed a fist with her hand and the water went into his nose and mouth, pushing into his lungs and filling them to the brim.

  Micheal did not resist, struggle, or cry out. He instead kept his eyes locked tight on Patricia as he fell over. Even with death coming and the panic from the lack of oxygen, he smirked at the small resistance he saw from her. He knew a small part of her was still there.

  His last thought was his hope that she could forgive herself one day.

  Then he died.

  “That was rather fast of you.”

  “You did not command me to make him suffer, my King,” she said.

  “Remove this trash,” Seir said to the guards. “Anything else, general?”

  “Your orders for the army, my King?”

  Seir considered this for a moment, continuing his gentle caressing of Patricia, her moans soon returning.

  “Take your army to the south, secure Riven Hold, and garrison your troops there for the winter. I will focus on the northern army for a while. I learned the elves may cause some trouble there. If I do not hear from Albris again in the next week, I will send you several of my lieutenants for missions of their own soon. Give them what they need to carry out their mission. That is all.”

  “Yes, my King,” Taimana said with his hand over his chest in salute. He then turned and walked out the door, followed by the guards who carried the dead body.