by Cat Wilder
Yarus hurried into the chamber and closed the door, careful not to spill any of the water. His hands were trembling slightly as he pressed the dipper to her lips. Tara drank slowly. She made and maintained eye contact with the eager guard. When the dipper was empty, she licked her lips and smiled sensuously.
"I’m yours for the taking," she whispered.
"Oh gods," he said softly and dropped the dipper.
He gently caressed her breasts with trembling hands. Slowly pressing his lips to hers, he gave her a long, lingering kiss. Tara moaned passionately to encourage him further. He combed her long black hair out of her face with his fingers. Then after spending several minutes studying every detail of her face, he pulled her lips open with a trembling finger.
"You’re the most beautiful woman I have ever seen," he said, his voice almost breaking. "I have never forgotten you from the first time I saw you in the Broken Oar."
"You saw me there?"
"Yes. I even sparred with you once," he said, squeezing her teats firmly. "I counted myself lucky to have escaped without any broken bones."
"Sorry, but I don’t remember you. There were so many."
Tara had only spent two weeks in the Broken Oar Tavern as a fighting slave. The owner had drugged her drink and the drinks of her shipmates. He sold the men as galley slaves, but kept her to be a fighting slave. She was forced to fight men who paid for the privilege. In the two weeks she was there, she became a local legend known as the Mankiller. She never lost a fight and killed several men in the process.
The last man she killed there was the owner.
"No problem," he said and kissed her.
He wrapped his arms around her and gave her a tight hug. Then he buried his face in her neck and began kissing and sucking. He worked his way up to her ear and then back down to her breasts. Tara soon found it unnecessary to fake her arousal.
"Gods, kiss me," she breathed.
Tara returned his kisses with passion. She moaned and groaned wantonly, anything to get him closer. She playfully teased his tongue with her own. He wrapped his arms around her again and squeezed tight as he kissed her. Then Tara wrapped her legs around his waist and promptly grunted in terrible pain.
Dropping her feet to the floor, "Gods, those damn chains are killing me."
"I’ll be careful not to hurt you," he said and started kissing her neck.
"Could you maybe unlock them?" she asked innocently as he lifted her right breast and took a nipple into his mouth.
"No! Is that why you’re doing this? It won’t work," he said and started to pull away.
"No, no," Tara said and wrapped her legs around him again. "Don’t go, please. I’m sorry. I won’t mention it again."
"Well," he said, licking his lips.
He glanced nervously at the closed door. She worried that his timid nature would be too much for him to overcome. Tara wasn't in a position to do any more physically to entice him.
"I promise. Here, I tell you what," she said sweetly. "Come in real close. I’ll wrap my legs around your waist so I can push myself up a little and relieve the pain."
Yarus moved up close and personal. He grabbed her around the waist and lifted her up slightly. She wrapped her legs around him tightly. The slight relief was a blessing. She rubbed her breasts against him, before starting to kiss his neck. He began to moan as she kissed, sucked, and nibbled on his neck.
Tara kissed and nibbled her way down to his shoulder and studied his belt. The keys to the cuffs were hanging on a thin leather strap on the back of the belt. Carefully, she hooked her big toe through the iron key ring. When she was satisfied, Tara bit the guard’s neck and stomped down with her right foot, ripping the key ring off the belt.
Yarus gasped as her teeth ripped through the flesh of his neck. He was too stunned to react at first, but he quickly started trying to break loose of her grasp. She held him fast with her legs and teeth. Then she started jerking her head back and forth.
Soon blood began pouring and then gushing out the rip in his neck. In desperation he pulled himself free. But he was a dead man; Tara had severed the jugular.
Trying to hold the wound close, he started for the door. Blood was pouring through his fingers as he fell to his knees halfway to the door. Tara suddenly felt shame and a deep sense of regret when his sad eyes looked back at her accusingly.
"Varissa forgive me," she cried softly as he died. "I didn’t try to kill him, just wound him so badly he'd have to go for help."
"It was either him or us," Ciara said.
"Then why do I feel so bloody filthy?"
"He was probably a good man, but he didn’t see anything wrong with them torturing and killing us."
"I didn’t see anything wrong with it either just a few months ago," Tara countered. "In fact, I guess I still believe they have the right to punish us. We are guilty you know."
"You’re just tired," she said.
"Maybe," Tara said, eyes burning. Then she glanced down at the key ring at her feet. She didn't have time to wallow in regret. "I got his keys here, can you use them to unlock your cuffs?"
"You bet," Ciara said, looking at the keys eagerly. "Can you get them to me?"
"We’ll know in a second."
Tara reached out with her foot and pulled the keys next to the wall. She carefully got the keys between her feet and took a deep breath to steel herself from the expected pain. With an agonized groan, she picked up the keys between her feet and hung by her wrists. Then carefully, she tossed the keys in Ciara’s direction.
The keys fell short. Cursing softly, the auburn-haired pirate wiggled around and stretched out to get them. She brutalized her own wrists trying to reach the keys, but they were barely an inch beyond her feet.
"The gods hate me," Ciara cried.
"Wait, can you hold something in your feet and get it?" Tara said, looking around. "Over there, that brazier, knock it over and use one of the torturing irons."
"What? Are you crazy? I’ll burn my foot off," Ciara said.
"No, it’s cold. Believe me, I can see into it easily," Tara said. "It’s our only hope."
Ciara squirmed back around some more and hooked a toe under one of the three legs. She carefully eased it over closer. Its iron feet grated across the stone floor, sounding so loud in Tara's ears. She bit her lip as Ciara carefully tipped it over so it would fall towards her. The brazier hit the floor and spilled hot coals toward the elfmaid.
"Shit, bitch! You said it was safe!" Ciara thrashed about and managed to buck, wiggle, kick the coals off with little more than a few slight burns, but her temper was blazing. "‘It’s cold’, she says. ‘Believe me’, she says. Thanks a lot, eagle eyes."
Tara glanced at the closed door. That was pretty loud. Did the other guards hear it?
"Sorry, it looked cold."
"You better pray the guards get here before I get loose, because I’m going to give you reason to be sorry," Ciara said and started to maneuver one of the irons around so she could pick it up with her feet.
With the iron’s handle firmly between her feet, she wiggled back into position to get the keys. It only took a moment before she had moved the keys to a position she could retrieve. She kicked aside the now useless iron and took the keys between her feet. Then rolling to her back, she lifted her legs over her head and dropped them next to her hands.
"Steel yourself, wench," Ciara said between tightly clenched teeth. "You’re about to get burnt."
Ciara picked up the keys and moved closer to the wall to get some slack in the chains. She found the right key and the cuffs snapped open. Then after rubbing her wrists, she picked up a pair of tongs and selected a red hot coal.
"Ciara? I didn’t know. You know I wouldn’t hurt you," Tara said, amazed her friend might really burn her.
Ciara walked over to her hanging friend with the hot coal and smiled wickedly. She lifted the hot coal to her lips and blew on it. The coal brightened as Tara’s stomach sank.
"Ciara, please
stop playing around."
"No," she said and stepped in close. Holding the coal out where her friend could see it, she grabbed Tara behind the neck and pulled her away from the wall. She then dropped the tongs and laughed. "Ha! You should’ve seen how big your eyes got!"
"Praise the gods, I thought you really were going to torture me," Tara replied.
"Oh no," Ciara said, pulling Tara’s shirt open wide to admire her abundant charms. "Gods, what I couldn’t do with a pair like those. I’d own every man I met."
"Gods, please. Hurry up and release me, these chains are more than I can stand," Tara said. With Ciara free, her sense of desperation intensified. "It feels like their ripping my arms out of my shoulders."
"I’m sorry," Ciara said. She fumbled with the keys. "I really shouldn’t have been playing around like that with you in such pain."
Tara's breath caught when she inserted the key. The first manacle snapped open, then the second, and Tara fell to her knees at Ciara’s feet. She couldn’t lift her arms, or even close her hands. Ciara rubbed her wrists and arms as pins and needles erupted. It was several minutes before she could use them again. Tara was helped to her feet and they both dressed, Ciara casting Tara dark looks as she pulled tight pants over raw burns. Both shirts were little more than rags now, but they managed to tie them closed. Then they went to the table holding all their weapons and rearmed themselves.
"Maybe we should just forget about that damned jewel and go," Ciara said, looking Tara over. "You’re not in any shape to continue."
"I’m fine," she said matter-of-factly. "The strength’s returning to my arms, so don’t worry about me."
"Fine, but if it starts to get hairy again, we’re out of here."
"Agreed," Tara said and smiled. She walked over to the dead guard and knelt. His face was frozen with a look of shock. Closing his eyes, she said a silent prayer for his soul.
"Forgive me," she whispered to Yarus. Then standing, "Now I think it’s time to pay a visit to our former commander, Captain Padraig."
Chapter 15
Tara pulled the door open and peered into the dimly lit passage. The way was clear. They crept out and moved down the passage alertly. At the corner, Tara dropped to her knees and looked around. Their luck was holding out and they darted to the intersection of passages. From there they could just make out the laughs and shouts of the gambling guards. They made their way down the passage and then up the stairs to the kitchen.
The carcass of the otherworld creature was gone and only bloodstains showed where it had died. Both women felt some relief. The mere sight of it gave Tara the willies.
"I’m dying of thirst," Ciara said. "Let’s get something to drink first."
"Bloody good idea, there’s the water barrel," Tara said.
"I was thinking of something a little stronger," she replied with a grin.
"We don’t have time to search for anything else," Tara said. "We don’t know when someone will decide to check on us and our poor dead keeper down there."
"No need to look," Ciara said and went to the pantry they had hidden in earlier. She opened the door and stepped in. Returning with two jugs of wine, "White or red, my love?"
Tara rolled her eyes dramatically, "Red...everyone knows that red wine goes with bloodletting. Gods, you’re such a barbarian."
Ciara tossed the jug of red wine to Tara and then pulled the cork out of the white wine with her teeth, "Maybe so, sweetie, but I’ve always preferred white."
"The social graces were never your forte, my dear," Tara said haughtily. She pulled the cork out of her bottle with her teeth, too. She sniffed the cork and then sipped the wine, "An excellent vintage, if I do say so myself."
"Thank you, I tried to pick something to please your discerning palate," she said and curtsied.
"See if they have any cheese," Tara said, looking around. "You know how I love cheese."
They searched the pantries and found several different kinds of cheese. With the cheeses and some bread they found, they set up on a kitchen table. They enjoyed the wine and food while they talked about what had happened to them up to that point. Soon the wine started to kick in and they began to feel real good again.
"You know," Tara said. "That scrawny pig of a pirate better tell us where Varissa's Eye is or I’ll make bacon out of him."
They both broke up giggling.
"I’m getting tired," Ciara said, standing. "Let’s go find Captain Bacon’s room and get out of here."
"Right," she said. "I can’t wait to see Lujak’s face when I rub his nose in our little adventure here."
"Ha! He’ll bust a blood vessel for sure," Ciara laughed.
"Well, he best be careful in the future, lest I smite him with my mighty boot and kick his big butt off my ship," Tara said melodramatically, lifting her right foot high.
"Can I be first mate then?"
"Why not? Lujak just has the first sailor he finds to do his dirty work," Tara said. "Lazy bastard."
"Make me first mate and I’ll do my own dirty work," she said. "But I’ll probably have them do all my heavy work."
Tara laughed and stood up. "We dally, shall we?"
"Let’s do it."
They left the wine, cheese, and bread on the table and left the kitchen. The ground floor was empty. They climbed the stairs quietly and alertly. They didn’t know if there were any roving guards now that they'd stirred things up. But they had no intention of being surprised. After checking the second floor hallway for guards, they headed to the top floor. They found the third floor hallway deserted also.
"That way," Ciara said, pointing to their left.
Tara led the way down the hallway to the door Ciara indicated. She reached out and turned the polished brass handle. The door came open quietly with a gentle push, he hadn’t locked it. Sliding through, Tara waited for Ciara to enter before closing the door. The key was in the lock, so she locked it and placed the key in a pocket sewn inside the top of her right boot.
Tara turned and surveyed the chamber. There was a tiny light coming from a lamp by the pirate captain’s bed. Ciara was studying it and soon turned it up.
Tara stood at the foot of the bed. When the lamp brightened, flooding the room with light, Padraig stirred. She watched his eyes flutter open. The infamous pirate sudden sat up, eyes huge.
"How did you escape?"
"Yikes!" Ciara cried, and whacked him in the head with her sword's pommel.
Padraig grunted and fell back onto the bed, out cold.
"I guess we’ll have to wait on the questions," Tara laughed.
"Whoops, I forgot." Ciara said with a big smile on her face. "We can pass the time by searching the room."
Nodding, Tara turned to a large chest of drawers. She searched each drawer thoroughly, throwing the contents on the floor. Ciara took the time to search Padraig’s person and then the bed. She accidently rolled Padraig off the bed and onto the floor while looking under the mattress.
"Whoops again," she said and they both giggled.
Opening the large cedar wardrobe next to the chest of drawers, Tara began pulling out his clothes and checking each article. She was impressed by the richness and quality of his wardrobe. Easily half was silk, with fine linen, cotton, and velvet making up the rest. In the bottom of the closet she found several small caskets. She took them out and studied the locks.
Sitting down cross-legged, she pulled out her tools for picking locks. She kept them in secret pockets sewn into the top of her left boot. In her line of work, she could never know when she would need to gain access behind a lock.
The locks were built into the side of the small caskets, which was unusual. Most locks were padlocks. Tara grew up in a temple that taught all of the tricks an adventurer would need, including how to pick a lock, and she thought she was pretty good at it, but she didn’t seem able to crack these. Fortunately, Ciara possessed a rare talent at picking locks.
"Ciara," she called in frustration. "Could you open these? They are
beyond my ability."
"Really? How hard could they be?" she replied. Then looking at the locks, "Whoa, these could be difficult. He’s got the best here."
"I have confidence you'll get them open," Tara said. "Let me know what you find. I’ll finish searching the rest of the room."
Ciara nodded, intent on the lock. Tara searched the remaining chests and the small desk in one corner. The desk held stacks of papers and his official ledger he showed the Tax Collector. It amused her that even pirates had to pay taxes. She couldn’t find anything of value, much less the Eye of Varissa. Frustrated, she returned to Ciara.
"Found anything?"
"The first one was full of papers, contracts I think. The second one had some gold coins and loose gems, but not the one we’re looking for."
"It’s empty," Tara said, picking it up.
"It is now," Ciara smiled and patted the purse tied to her belt. It was a new purse, red-dyed leather with silver stitching. Captain Padraig’s personal purse, Tara decided. Then turning back to the small chest in her lap, Ciara worried her lip as her fingers manipulated her tools. "I almost have this last one...there."
There was a small click and she opened the lid. There were two books inside. The top book was the pirate captain’s real ledger on his operations. The other book was wrapped in oil cloth to protect it from moisture. They unwrapped it. The book looked ancient. Leather bound with strange symbols burnt in, they guessed it to be from before the Age of Man. Its pages were yellow and brittle looking. Neither one of them could read the strange writing inside.
"Whoa, this is worth a fortune," Ciara whispered in awe. "I’ve never seen a pre-Age of Man book before."
Wrapping the book back up, "Oh well," Ciara said and set it aside. "That’s not what we came looking for."
Tara looked at Padraig, "I guess it’s time to wake our friend."
Padraig was beginning to stir as they turned. He took a deep breath and sat up, rubbing the knot on his head. It took the groggy half-elf pirate several seconds to figure out what was happening. Leaning his back against the wall, he looked up and saw a pair of tall black boots standing in front of him. Letting his gaze rise, he slowly looked up into Ciara’s smiling eyes. Then Tara stepped into view and graced him with a wicked smile of her own.