Maiden of Pain p-3

by Kameron Franklin

  A wave of nausea rolled up from Ythnel's stomach, and her legs suddenly grew weak. She stumbled into the water face-first but caught herself on her hands and knees before falling fully in. Muctos, who had been marching behind her, stooped to help her up, but she pushed him away.

  "What's going on?" The werecrocodile who had been at the rear strode up to Ythnel.

  "I'm hungry," Ythnel said, her head still hanging down. "I haven't eaten in.. I don't know how long. I'm not going anywhere until I get some food." She slowly raised her head, defiance in her eyes. Muctos was looking at her with eyes wide. He mouthed something, but she couldn't understand.

  "You wait here." The werecrocodile moved to speak with Kohtakah, the mage they had known as Brother Crocodile, at the front of the group.

  "What are you up to?" Muctos asked in a harsh whisper. Before Ythnel could answer, the werecrocodile returned.

  "We don't stop until we get to the city. You" He indicated Muctos."carry her." The heavyset mage frowned but helped Ythnel up then turned and offered her his back. She hopped on, looping her arms around his shoulders as he hooked his arms under her knees. The march resumed.

  For the next few hours, Ythnel was passed between the mages; her weight was too much of a burden for any one of them to carry for too long. It slowed the group's progress until finally Kohtakah brought them to a halt. As though responding to some unseen signal, one of the submerged werecrocodiles reared up in a spray of water and transformed into its human shape. Kohtakah pointed at Ythnel, and the other took her from Muctos, slinging her over its shoulder so that she had a perfect view of his naked rear.

  When the sky began to darken once again, the group found themselves at the edge of the river. Here the current was stronger, the water not as murky. Ythnel could see groupings of trees that marked the far bank several hundred yards away. To the north, an island sat in the mouth of the river. The island was covered in half-sunken ruins. Pillars of dried mud-brick leaned precariously, threatening to topple over and disappear beneath the surface of the swamp. With the crumbling archways and broken walls, it looked to Ythnel like a long-neglected graveyard.

  "Is this your city?" Muctos asked.

  "Yes," Kohtakah said, either missing or ignoring the obvious incredulity that laced the mage's question. "We will cross the river here." The werecrocodile that was carrying Ythnel set her down and proceeded to change back into his reptile form. As the transformation completed, he slithered into the water.

  "How? I don't see any boats or ferries," Muctos noted. "You aren't expecting us to swim across, are you?" Ythnel hoped not. Even in the sluggish current, she knew she didn't have the strength and would likely get swept out into the bay.

  "No. You will ride on our backs." Kohtakah made his own transformation and entered the water, where he was joined by three other floating reptilian forms.

  The three captives looked to each other. At least one other of the werecrocodiles still stood guard in human form; who knew how many were lurking just beneath the surface of the swamp, ready to take them in a flurry of scales and teeth. Ythnel was in no shape to run. Besides, if the creatures had wanted to kill them, there had been plenty of opportunities before now. With a shrug, she stood up and waded out to one of the werecrocodiles. It swung around, and Ythnel clambered on, lying across the uncomfortable collection of hard lumps. The mages hesitated for a moment before following suit. Once everyone was loaded, the werecrocodiles pushed out into the river, letting the current take them. Ythnel could feel the powerful strokes of the creature's tail from where she was positioned, guiding them toward a point of the island where the river split.

  When they were about one hundred feet from the bank of the island, Ythnel spotted movement amongst the nearest ruins. At first, she dismissed it as more werecrocodiles, but as they got closer, she caught glimpses of furry shapes with thin, whiplike tails moving in and out of the shadows on two legs. Whatever they were, the werecrocodiles did not want to meet them, for they began to shift course farther downriver. When the creatures on the island realized they had been spotted, a cry went up, and several of them came out into the open. It was then that Ythnel saw they were some sort of humanoid rat. She wondered if perhaps they were related to the werecrocodiles. The ratmen all carried bows and had them pulled taut, aiming at the werecrocodiles and their passengers. As the group passed by, the ratmen let fly, sending a hail of arrows across the river. Ythnel instinctively clutched at the werecrocodile she was riding, trying to flatten herself as much as possible as the deadly shafts plunked into the water around her. She looked around to see if any of the others had been hit, but a sharp hiss brought her gaze snapping back to find an arrow embedded in the shoulder of her escort, inches from her hand.

  The werecrocodile shuddered and pitched violently, rolling onto its back and throwing Ythnel into the water. She struggled to the surface, coughing and spitting out a mouthful of river. Disoriented, Ythnel thrashed in momentary panic before realizing she could keep herself above water easily by treading in the lazy current. She searched for the others, spotting them just as they rounded the far side of the island and disappeared from view. Somehow, Ythnel had drifted down the west branch of the river after being tossed from the werecrocodile, while the rest of the group continued down the east branch. She waited for one the werecrocodiles to reappear and reclaim her, but no one came.

  A commotion to her left drew her attention back to the near bank of the island, only a few yards away. Several of the ratmen had gathered and were pointing at her, chattering excitedly. It seemed someone had noticed her separation from the group.

  One of the creatures appeared with a jumble of ropes in hand. It twirled them over its head, finally releasing it after building up enough momentum. As the ropes flew out across the river toward Ythnel, they expanded into a weighted net. Dread filled her as the net descended over her, the weights dragging her down under the water. With a sharp tug, the net closed around her, and Ythnel felt herself being pulled toward the bank.

  This was not happening, she screamed to herself. Frustration and rage rose as she once again found herself at someone else's mercy. But her struggling only served to entwine the net tighter around her. Just as she thought her lungs would explode, she broke the surface and was soon lying in a tangled, muddy pile at the feet of the ratmen. While several arrowheads were pointed threateningly at her, one of the ratmen unwrapped Ythnel from the net.

  "Why were you with the werecrocodiles? Who are you?"

  "My name is Ythnel. I was a prisoner, along with my friends."

  "Why did they capture you?"

  "Probably for food." A ratman holding a bow chuckled.

  "I'm feeling a little hungry, myself," another called out.

  "No! No, they were taking us to their city because we are wizards," Ythnel protested. Several of the ratmen hissed, but Ythnel wasn't sure if it was in response to the werecrocodiles' claim to the city or that she and her friends were wizards.

  "You will come with us," the ratman who had netted her commanded. He motioned for her to stand and led the group into the ruins.

  They moved steadily inland, weaving through abandoned towers and half-built dwellings. From the many piles of unused materials that still lay at the base of some of the structures, Ythnel was beginning to think the city had more likely been left uncompleted rather than succumbing to time and the elements.

  "Where are we going?" Ythnel sidestepped a twfoot-long rat that scurried from the shadows of a doorway to glare at her with undisguised malevolence.

  "We are taking you to our village."

  "So you share this island with the werecrocodiles? Did they build all this? Or were you here first?"

  "Yes, the werecrocodiles built this, but we were here first. The werecrocodiles came from the east and tried to re-create their home, using the power of their god to enslave us. Something happened not long ago, and their god disappeared. We rose up and fought them, eventually freeing ourselves.

  "They no lon
ger try to build; the territory each side controls keeps shifting. For now, they occupy the north half of the island, while we live on the south."

  Ythnel nodded at the ratman's reply. Its mention of the disappearance of the werecrocodiles' god stirred an early memory from her childhood at the manor. The temple had been filled with panicked sisters and hushed whispers that Loviatar had abandoned her followers, been cast out of the planes, or had even been killed. In time, things had returned to normal, but Ythnel now wondered if perhaps these two events were somehow related.

  Unfortunately, her curiosity would have to go unsatisfied. There were more immediate concerns to deal with.

  They reached the ratmen's village just before nightfall. In the fading light, Ythnel began to notice lean-tos erected against unfinished walls. Midden heaps inhabited several of the roofless buildings they passed, assailing Ythnel's nose with their ever-present stench. A crowd of onlookers began to form behind the group, following them as they neared what Ythnel guessed to be the center of the camp. The growing entourage consisted of males and females, most in the rat form of her escorts, but there were one or two who appeared human. So, they are werecrea-tures as well, Ythnel concluded.

  The wererats stopped before a building whose walls completely enclosed its interior. What appeared to be a curtain of hide hung in the doorway, and a thatch roof sat atop the walls. The lead wererat entered the dwelling while everyone else waited outside. The area in front of the building was well trod and muddy. A pot of something unwholesome-smelling stewed atop a small cook fire nearby. Ythnel's stomach gurgled at the thought of food, unconcerned with how unappealing whatever was being served might be.

  The hide curtain was pushed back and out strode a striking older man with Ythnel's wererat captor in tow. While the man's shirt, breeches, and boots were patched and sullied, he carried himself with an air of confidence and a twinkle of cunning in his deep blue eyes that seemed out of place in the middle of a swamp. A thin mustache, touched with the same gray that streaked his fading hair, did little to separate the man's sharp nose from his broad grin. He stopped before Ythnel, covering her thoroughly with his eyes while the other wererat whispered in his ear. Nodding, the man raised his hand, and the wererat stepped back with a slight bow.

  "So I understand you were part of a group of wizards recently captured by the werecrocodiles. You're very fortunate that some of my men were able to rescue you." The man spoke with disarming friendliness and concern.

  "It was my impression your men would have been just as happy to eat me," Ythnel scoffed.

  "Ah, I'm sure it was just a poor attempt at humor." He smiled. "Unfortunately, hunger is a common epidemic amongst my people, thanks to the werecrocodiles. Making light of it is often our only relief."

  Ythnel took a second look at the crowd gathered around her and noticed how gaunt many of the figures were. Skin was stretched taut, and many faces had hollow cheeks and dark circles around the eyes. The way they all looked at her made her suddenly very uncomfortable.

  "What do the werecrocodiles have to do with your going hungry?" Ythnel asked.

  "They constantly patrol the waters around this island, attacking us when we try to cross. It makes it difficult to hunt or forage; there's nothing left on the island to support either us or the werecrocodiles."

  "So how have you survived?"

  "Raids mostly. The werecrocodiles are overconfident and sloppy. It's easy enough to slip past their pickets with an appropriate diversion. Occasionally, we make it across the river and can… trade with passing caravans." The man's hesitation gave Ythnel the idea that the trades were probably one-sided.

  "Enough business," the man declared suddenly. "I would imagine you are tired from your ordeal. Please, accept what hospitality we can offer." He waved his hand in a grandiose gesture that encompassed the surrounding ruins and midden heaps.

  "That is quite generous," Ythnel said, trying hard to keep the skepticism from her voice. "I don't even know your name."

  "Ah, where are my manners. I am Torgyn." He bowed. As he straightened, he looked at her expectantly.

  "I, uh, am Ythnel."

  "Well met, Ythnel. Join me for a bite to eat?" He motioned her toward a table made of stacked mud bricks and crossbeams. When they sat, a pair of plates were brought to them. The "meal" presented to her made Ythnel's stomach turn. Rotten vegetable matter and bones, which were covered as much with maggots as meat, were piled on the plates. The stench was more than enough to cause her to gag. She daintily picked through the refuse, earning snickers from the assembled wererats. Torgyn was watching her intently.

  Ythnel wondered if this was some sort of test. Would they kill her if she refused to eat it? Even as hungry as she was, she knew she couldn't force herself to eat the putrid dish in front of her.

  That's when it occurred to her that she wouldn't have to. Overcome by hunger as she prayed last night, Ythnel had requested a seldom-used orison she had learned early in her days at the manor and eventually forgotten. She began to chant while holding her hands just above the plate and channeled a small burst of Power. With a smile, she picked up a chunk of meat, brushed the maggots off of it, and took a bite. The overwhelming odor of decay was gone. The texture was a bit gamey, and she tried not to think of what it might have been before the wererats killed it. She just enjoyed the feeling of something in her belly.

  "A useful spell," Torgyn remarked, "but not very effective in a fight." He grabbed a handful of the rotten food on his plate and shoveled it into his mouth.

  "An empty stomach is as much a distraction in a fight as having a strap on your armor unbuckled. It is a weakness that your enemy can exploit," Ythnel replied.

  "Very true," Torgyn said, his mouth still half-full. "Purifying food is not really a concern of ours." "And what is your concern?"

  "The werecrocodiles. Therefore, I'm very interested in what they would want with some wizards. I'd also like to know what you and your wizard friends were doing in Adder Swamp to begin with." Torgyn smiled, but there was a wicked cunning behind it that put Ythnel on guard. She chewed slowly to give herself time to think. There really wasn't anything to gain by lying to the wererats. She doubted they would return her to the Karanoks, and it was possible that there was a way to play the conflict between the two groups of werecreatures to her advantage.

  However, she would have to be careful to avoid mentioning the revelation that Brother Crocodile was really a werecrocodile. Even the slightest indication that there was some sort of connection between her and the werecrocodiles could result in the wererats turning on her.

  "My friends are members of an underground society attempting to overthrow House Karanok." Ythnel took Torgyn's raised eyebrow to mean he at least knew of Luthcheq's ruling family. "After rescuing me from the Karanoks, we fled to the swamp. That is why we are here.

  "I have no idea what the werecrocodiles want with us. They captured us last evening, as we were sleeping."

  "I think I know: magic. They used magic once to enslave us. It would give them the advantage should they be able to wield such power again." He seemed to mutter this last to himself, but he kept his eyes on Ythnel. "They knew you had magic. The question, though, is how did they know?"

  Ythnel's mind raced for an answer that would not involve Brother Crocodile. "On several occasions when we first entered the swamp, we had to use magic to fight off creatures that attacked us. Perhaps they witnessed one of those encounters." Ythnel held her breath as she waited for Torgyn's reaction.

  "Perhaps," he said, nodding thoughtfully. "So it would appear that Lord Mulkammu finally has his wizards. This time, though, it seems we would have a wizard of our own with which to fight back." The man's eyes narrowed shrewdly. "It appears that your rescue was just as fortunate for us as it was for you."

  They had rounded the island, following the west fork of the Adder River until it finally spilled out into the Bay of Chessenta, before anyone noticed that Ythnel was lost. A wounded werecrocodile had finally
caught up to Kohtakah, whom Kestus rode, a broken arrow shaft protruding from its left shoulder. The group immediately headed for the island shore, and once beached, the werecrocodiles transformed into their human shapes. The wounded werecrocodile reported he had been hit by the wererat volley and had thrown the woman while trying to dislodge the missile. By the time he had resurfaced, she was gone.

  "The woman is of no real concern," Kohtakah shrugged off the news of Ythnel's disappearance. "We still have the two wizards." He tentatively examined the other's festering wound, Kestus noted, taking extra care not to touch the arrowhead. "We need to get you back to the city to have this removed."

  The group marched along the northern edge of the island, heading east. That side of the island was covered with the same mud-brick structures Ythnel had pointed out earlier, but they were more often in some semblance of completion. Squat, square buildings were huddled together in what could have passed for city blocks had they been connected by cobblestone streets rather than channels of muddy water.

  Small points of flickering light began to appear in the distance as night fell, indications that the group was finally nearing the werecrocodile community. The mages were led past lit dwellings toward a towering pyramid that appeared to be the center of the village. The entrance was guarded by only a pair of sputtering torches set in sconces on either side. Kohtakah knocked then waited a moment before pushing the door open and ushering the group inside. ing coals that cast a soft red light against the inner walls of the pyramid. At the far end of the chamber, a great chair of dark wood rested at the base of a dais upon which sat a nondescript altar. Standing over the altar with its face toward the chamber entrance was the immense statue of an athletic man whose horned crocodile head disappeared into the shadows of the ceiling, some twenty feet above them.

  A gong sounded from somewhere at the back of the chamber, and a near-giant of a man with a jutting chin and shaved head strode out from some hidden doorway behind the dais. He wore a sleeveless leather tunic that ended just above the knee, exposing corded muscles on his arms and thick calves. A fur-lined cape hung around his shoulders, billowing slightly in his wake as he made his way to the great chair. When he had seated himself, Kohtakah stepped forward and bent on one knee before him.