Xukundi noticed the stance and rushed forward to take advantage of the opening.
Akuchi brought down the sword in a savage strike. Xukundi blocked. Akuchi raised the sword and hammered down. Again, Xukundi blocked the strike, stepping out of reach.
Akuchi examined this new fighting style. It had the advantage of height to it, putting Akuchi on an equal footing with the troll leader. Xukundi rushed forward and Akuchi drove his blade down towards. He blocked and barrelled into Akuchi, sending him flying to the ground. Xukundi aimed his sword at Akuchi’s face and brought it down. Akuchi rolled away and jumped to his feet as Xukundi extracted the blade from the ground with a mighty wrench, spraying dirt.
Akuchi rushed forward, slashing at Xukundi. Xukundi blocked and stepped out of the way as Akuchi kept pressing on through him.
Xukundi stepped forward, striking at Akuchi’s back. Akuchi spun and swung his blade along the line of Xukundi’s blade, stopping at the hilt.
Their swords crossed as they both stepped into the exchange. Both combatants came face to face. Xukundi breathed at Akuchi. The stench of his breath forced Akuchi to step back.
Xukundi chuckled at Akuchi’s withdrawal. He pressed forward, swinging. Akuchi knocked the blade aside and elbowed Xukundi in the stomach, winding him. Akuchi pressed forward and brought his sword back in under Xukundi’s arm, slashing a wide gash across his stomach. Xukundi flinched as he jumped back and fell to the floor, his intestines spewing all over the ground.
Akuchi stepped forward and brought his sword down on Xukundi’s neck, severing his head from his body.
“Well done,” Retha called out into the silence. “You have slain the mighty Xukundi.”
“What happens now?” Akuchi demanded.
“You must declare your intentions. What do you want to happen?”
“I want to be set free,” began Akuchi. Retha translated for the horde. “All prisoners and slaves are to be set free and brought to me.”
“Very good master,” Retha finished.
Shouting in trollish as the orders were relayed, several other soldiers were brought forward. Two men from the Commander’s Guard knelt before him. They were stripped of their armour and were naked. Both men were large and muscular, and had dark hair cut short. One had a short goatee and flashed green eyes. The second was clean shaven. Apart from his head hair, there wasn’t any strand of hair on his body.
“Retha,” began Akuchi, “tell the trolls to pack up and go home.”
“Yes, master.” Retha submitted and translated the message to the troll horde.
After the translation, the horde, remained standing in complete silence watching Akuchi.
“What’s going on?” Akuchi demanded.
“Not sure.” Retha returned looking around at the assembled masses. “These trolls have never known freedom. They might not know what to do.”
“What do you mean?” Akuchi asked, taking a deep breath to settle his mounting worry.
“Trolls live their whole lives in service to the Great Dragon…” Retha explained.
“That must wait,” Akuchi interrupted. “How do we get out of here?”
“Trolls are highly superstitious,” informed Retha, “try using Xukundi’s head.”
Akuchi squatted down and grasped Xukundi’s severed head in his left hand and raised it high in the air. The assembled trolls raised their fists in celebration and a path out of the mob opened. Akuchi turned to face Retha, grabbed her hand, and yanked her to her feet and hauled her along with him. The guardsmen rose and headed off towards the fort. Akuchi and Retha walked. As the mob of trolls thinned Akuchi lowed the head.
Akuchi, Retha, and the two guardsmen ran towards the high white walls of Fort Northern Wiles.
A troll wielding two scimitars, jumped in front of Akuchi, halting their progress. The troll spat in trollish and several trolls formed up behind him.
“Looks like he wants to challenge you,” Retha said.
Akuchi raised the decapitated head of the Xukundi in front of him towards the troll, blood still dripping from the base of the neck.
The troll’s eyes widened upon seeing his former master. The trolls behind him melted away back into their tents. The challenger cowered, hiding from Xukundi’s dead glare. He dropped to the ground, throwing aside the two scimitars he had been wielding and planted his face into the ground, exposing his neck to Akuchi in submission.
“We can go now,” Retha said, “he has submitted to us.”
“Effective,” commented Akuchi as the small group began to run off.
“It will only work until they choose another leader to challenge you,” replied Retha.
Arriving at the gate of the fort a guard on the wall called out to them.
“Halt, who goes there?”
“Akuchi Rosethorn,” Akuchi bellowed back. “Open the gates.”
A horn sounded from the fortress walls.
“What are they doing?” Akuchi asked.
“I guess you haven’t met many of the wall soldiers,” quipped a guardsman.
“Well, why didn’t you announce yourself?” retorted Akuchi.
Retha giggled, watching the men argue. They turned to her and she indicated her hand that was still being held by Akuchi.
“Sorry,” he apologised dropping her hand.
“It’s fine,” Retha commented, “it’s that I haven’t felt human contact in nearly twenty years.”
“I doubt that they would be able to hear us over the horn now,” observed the other guardsman.
The fortress doors opened slowly and several soldiers came out, all wearing assorted armour and carrying assorted weapons. Retha wrapped her cloak around her body, and pulled her cowl over her head. The soldiers pointed their various weapons at them, Akuchi and the two guardsmen raised their hands in surrender.
Salvadore arrived last and looked at the four of them.
“Akuchi, you made it back,” Salvadore commented, “I was surprised you even went on that raid. I had asked Mayu, but I thought she would leave you here till your training was complete.”
“Thank you, sir,” Akuchi responded puzzled.
Salvadore moved past Akuchi to look at the other two men.
“I did expect you two to survive last night,” Salvadore said.
“Sorry, sir,” they said in unison.
Salvadore turned towards Retha.
“Who are you?”
Retha threw back her cowl and let go of her cloak to stand proudly in front of Salvadore.
“I am Retha,” she declared.
“Escort them to Oghenekaro, he wants to see them.”
The guardsmen slumped as the soldiers formed two lines besides them and walked them all in a single file back into the fortress.
***
Once inside the fortress Akuchi breathed a sigh. Salvadore pointed to the two guardsmen.
“Eric and Ragnar. Back to the barracks with both of you.”
The two guardsmen saluted and ran back to their barracks, keeping their heads low.
Salvadore turned towards Retha and Akuchi. “The Commander will want to see you.”
Akuchi and Retha glanced at each other. “Where is he?” Akuchi asked.
“He is in his room,” Salvadore answered. “Follow me.”
Salvadore led Retha and Akuchi over to the command building and up two flights of stairs. At the top of the stairs was an ornate wooden door with an engraved door handle. Salvadore knocked on the door and Oghenekaro called for them to come in. Inside was a large spacious room. A wooden bed stood on one side, the sheets crumpled and tossed aside. On the other side of the room was a heavy wooden table with four seats situated around them. An empty fireplace was situated far side of the room. On the table were place settings for two people. The meagre food was all finished, reminding Akuchi that he hadn’t eaten well since arriving at Fort Northern Wiles.
The Commander sat in one chair and Mayu sat in another chair. His head was bandaged. Mayu wore a silk robe open at
the front, the robes an elegant pattern of a dragon embroidered on its back.
Mayu sat slumped against the back of the chair. When she saw Akuchi enter the room she smiled a huge smile and stood up, causing the robe to fall back on the chair. She raced to him and gave him a big hug, clenching him tightly.
“She was all torn up about losing you,” said Oghenekaro.
Mayu released Akuchi from her vice-like grip and stood back to look at him. Oghenekaro rose from his chair, crossed the room, and extended his hand to Akuchi.
“Well done coming back like that.”
“Thanks, sir,” responded Akuchi accepting the handshake. The Commanders grip was vice-like, Akuchi could feel his hand being crushed.
Retha stepped into the room behind Akuchi. Oghenekaro turned to look at her.
“Who is this?”
“I am Retha,” Retha answered.
“What an unexpected pleasure.”
“I found Retha in the troll camp.”
“Really?” Oghenekaro exclaimed, turning to face Akuchi. “What were you are doing in the camp?”
“I was captured while on patrol,” explained Retha. Everyone turned and faced Retha, “I was acting as an interpreter.”
“I was unaware that the trolls even had a language,” Salvadore said.
“They do,” said Retha. “The trolls serve what they call ‘The Great One’. They fight amongst each other to gain The Great One’s favour and when their clan gets to a certain size, they are tasked to assault this fortress.”
“Why?” Oghenekaro asked.
“The trolls don’t seem to know.” Retha shrugged. “I was a slave the whole time, not in a really good position to ask for information.”
“You did well, Akuchi,” Oghenekaro commanded. “For your great deeds on the battlefield, you must be rewarded.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Oghenekaro dismissed everyone with a wave of his hand.
Retha turned and walked out followed by Akuchi, Salvadore, and Mayu. As Mayu got to the door she turned leaning on the jam. She smiled at Oghenekaro.
“Thank you for the food.” Mayu smiled.
Mayu dashed off down the corridor. She exited the building just after Salvadore and ran up to Retha and Akuchi.
“Mayu.” Mayu extended her hand in greeting to Retha. “A pleasure to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you.” Retha smiled taking Mayu by the hand and pumping it. “It’s good to see that the fort still has women in it.”
“How long ago were you here?” asked Akuchi.
“I think.” Retha glanced around. “It would be about twenty years.”
“Wow.”
Mayu grabbed Retha by the arm and then started leading Retha to the barracks, Akuchi followed behind the two women. As he walked away he heard Salvadore chuckle at his misfortune. Mayu led Retha to the barracks she and Akuchi shared. As they entered the empty barracks, Mayu took Retha to her trunk.
“Oghenekaro will be calling a display,” Mayu explained. “A parade of sorts.”
Akuchi and Mayu sat on the ends of their beds. Retha gathered up her cloak and sat on a bed opposite.
“So, we will need to prepare our finest,” Mayu whispered. She opened her trunk and pulled out two folded bundles. Mayu passed one to Retha and sat another on her own lap. Each bundle was bound with coarse cloth and a satin ribbon tied in a bow. Mayu pulled the bow, undoing it, and then the unfolding the course cloth, revealing a filigree folded dress underneath. It was made from a fine lace make of silk. Mayu lifted the dress out of its protective packaging.
She stood, stretching the dress to its full height. She held it to her body. She gathered it up and slipped the dress over her head. It fell around her body. Mayu stretched the fabric over her body. The fabric held close to her body and was transparent.
“Wow,” Akuchi exclaimed. “Where did you get such a dress?”
“It was a gift to me from my mother,” explained Mayu. “It is a formal gown, for the most solemn occasions and ceremonies.”
“It is the most beautiful thing I have seen,” Retha said.
“Put on the other,” insisted Mayu, lifting her dress over her head and folding it back up.
Retha gingerly opened the package sitting on her lap. She undid the clasp on her cloak and lifted the dress over her head. Retha stood and the dress settled down on her still supple body. She stretched the fabric over her body smoothing it over her plump breasts and firm flat stomach.
“Wow,” Retha said, “this fabric is fantastic.”
“It does feel good,” Mayu said.
“If you two wear those dresses, what will I wear?” Akuchi asked as Retha gently folded the dress back into the cloth packaging.
Chapter 12 The Priest and the Messenger
1st day of the 1st month 160th Year of the 8th era
I am ready to leave my old life as a princess and become a priestess of the gods
Aife stood before the altar. The ceremony for her sanctification and purification for the cause of the gods was now upon her. Her orange paint was perfect, she had spent all night getting the details right. As was custom the paint job that she could use was her own design. She had used several differing shades of orange to create a mosaic of flowers that covered all her unsightly scars and warts and accentuated all her most beautiful traits. A special flower was depicted blooming over her left breast. The act had been so intimate that she had to stop and find some private time to calm down before she could continue. The paints really do heighten one’s normal inclinations. Now she stood before the altar in the central temple to the great gods. The great chamber was empty of the faithful. Only the three acolytes stood before the altar. A door to their left opened and out came the high priestess Caitlyn. She was painted in white to hide her deformities; she wore a necklace that cupped her breasts made of solid gold. The centre of the necklace met above her bellybutton. From there, a simple chain dangled, displaying the symbols of Tareem and Meerat the major deities of the goddess; a clasped hand of the woman, a stalk tree in full bloom, and a couple copulating. In her hair she wore an ornate headdress of feathers of many colours. From the right hand side of the altar came the high priest, Faircheallach, his white body paint covering his deformities. In his hair he wore a matching headdress to that of Caitlyn’s. They smiled at each other briefly. They approached the altar and stood opposite to the applicants.
“Today we come to welcome into our fold new members in the service of the gods,” intoned Faircheallach.
“We have three new sisters to welcome into the service of their mother…” droned Caitlyn.
“And into the service of their father,” completed Faircheallach.
Why is this arousing me? Aife flexed her muscles to ease the throbbing desire growing inside of her.
“Service to the gods demands full body and soul,” continued Caitlyn, “We give of our bodies in service to our gods and our bodies are no longer our own.”
“Do you, Aife, Elan and Dunla promise to give of your body and soul to the service of our gods?” Faircheallach spoke. “No matter what is asked of you?”
The throbbing grew again, and something trickled down her leg. What has gotten into me? Am I peeing myself? I just want to make love right now right here on the altar.
A thunderous boom cracked through the ceiling. Aife looked up as a glowing blaze of fire shot through the roof and smashed onto the altar. The fireball sent everyone around flying onto their backs. A man stood on the altar. His body was chiselled and covered in muscles. His red hair was shoulder length and his eyes flashed blue. His hand had six fingers. He wore a belt made from polished bronze around his waist, around his neck was cord made from gold that held up a cloak of finest purple edged in pure white fur. On his brow, was a circlet made from gold, and set with rubies.
“Aife,” he boomed. “Stand up.”
Aife stood, her knees shaking.
He turned and looked at her. “Have no fear I am not Moieth, come to take you
.”
“Who are you?” Aife stammered. What am I? A peasant? Did I just stammer?
“I am Mars,” he answered. A frown crossing his face, before smoothing again. “I have come to claim you.”
“What do you mean?”
“You are mine,” Mars demanded. “I have won you, you must serve me.”
Faircheallach stood behind Mars and lifted his hands up.
“Tareem, I beseech you come to our aid.”
Mars turned. Bronze armour manifested, covering his body. A flaming sword appeared in his hand.
“You dare to seek the aid of the gods?” Mars demanded, his voice deep as it resonated inside his helmet. The eyes of the helmet glowed. He raised his sword high and brought it down on Faircheallach.
A shield of light appeared around Faircheallach protecting him from the flaming sword. Sparks flew away from the contact point, setting the grass on fire.
“Meerat, aid your followers, and protect us from this defiler and invader of your holy sanctum!” Caitlyn called out. A gust of cold air rushed through the building and put out the fire in the grass.
Mars and his armour disappeared. The anger gone from his face. “You are already spoken for, weaklings. I want no fight with your gods.”
“Won me from who?” Aife demanded, standing taller. I am not some property to be won or lost by anyone.
“Solimas has given you up to me.” Anger flashed across his face, a sword appearing at his hip and his chest going from bare to a bronze breastplate.
“I was never Solimas’s to give away or lose,” Aife insisted.
“No time for that now.” Mars waved his hand dismissingly. “All the gods have agreed that you can’t become a priestess, for you to serve any one would upset the balance of power. A man will come for you. He is the completion of the prophecy that is upon your life and upon your birth star.”
“I have no birth star,” stated Aife.
“The man you have will carry an artefact of great power your and his son will set into motion the final conflict.” With that Mars stepped off the altar and burst into a fireball and shot through the roof the way he had come.
The Bloodwood Curse: An Epic Fantasy Adventure of Swords, Magic and Romance. (The Rosethorn Chronicles Book 1) Page 9