“It cannot be,” she sighed.
“Why?”
“My place is here, tending to Thannhausefeer’s affairs and warming his bed. He does you honor by allowing you to sleep with me.”
“This man is a monster! A cannibal! Why do you stay with him?”
She looked away from Manannan as she spoke. “My mother was cast up from the sea in a shipwreck, just like yourself. She died giving birth to me. She was all too human…”
“And your father?”
Lydiana—nostrils flaring—turned her piercing blue eyes on Manannan.
“Thannhausefeer!”
* * *
Knives formed a whirling silver ring before Thannhausefeer and the three warriors sitting at the Giant’s table. Dwarfs with twisted limbs clad in colorful dyed sleeveless wool tunics sat behind Thannhausefeer’s throne playing a gay tune on flutes made of human bones and drums fashioned from skulls stretched with human hide. Lydiana entered through the door at the back of the chamber and came over to sit in the empty chair to Manannan’s right.
“He is good, isn’t he, lover?” she spoke into Manannan’s ear and nodded at the fool dressed in bright red and green silk tights covered in diamond-shaped patterns. The man’s face was calm and stoic under the tall conical-shaped hat he wore. Standing across from the Giant, the dagger-whirling juggler looked like an obnoxious toy that a hateful child derives great pleasure from slowly destroying.
“That’s enough, Jobenox! It is time to fight again!” Thannhausefeer rumbled.
The fool kept the daggers whirling as he turned to go and exited through the main archway of the great hall, his face set as stone.
“You were late to Thannhausefeer’s table. What you did not hear is those daggers are all dipped in poison. The merest scratch—and the fool dies. He puts himself into a trance when he performs.” Lydiana raised her eyebrows but elicited no response from Manannan other than a grunt.
“Well, well. There are three of you left: Donthar the Executioner, Tarkatha the Bull, and Manannan, the Man from the Sea. I think it is high time we see who gets to carry away a shipload of treasure at dawn tomorrow,” the Giant bellowed.
The gong sounded and Thannhausefeer’s voice boomed again, “Tarkatha and Manannan!”
The two warriors walked around the table, and broadsword and scimitar hissed from their scabbards like metallic serpents. Both men stepped into fighting stances: Manannan, holding his heavy broadsword two-handed, and Tarkatha the Bull, holding his wicked curved blade in his right hand. Tarkatha was the first to strike, feinting, then aiming a blow at Manannan’s inner thigh. Manannan brought his broadsword around and blocked Tarkatha’s blade, nearly sending it spinning from the Bull’s grip. Tarkatha leapt back and grasped his scimitar with both hands. Thannhausefeer roared with laughter at the man’s overconfidence. Sweat beaded Tarkatha’s forehead, rolling down into his slanted black eyes.
Broadsword and scimitar engaged in a quick succession of lightning-fast strokes. Manannan’s sword missed splitting Tarkatha’s head by a fraction of an inch, and Tarkatha answered with a blow that would have severed Manannan’s arm had he not stepped back. Even so, Tarkatha’s blade sliced through Manannan’s shirt and broke the skin.
Tarkatha brought his blade down and over. Manannan stepped aside, and Tarkatha’s sword hissed another blow on the return. Manannan blocked the blow and made an arc with his broadsword. Manannan’s steel bit into Tarkatha’s hamstring, but as the Bull went down on one leg, he brought his sword back through at Manannan’s lower torso. Manannan knocked the scimitar from Tarkatha’s grip and struck the man’s head from his shoulders with a single wide sword stroke.
Manannan held the yellow man’s head up, and showed it to Thannhausefeer, then dropped it on the floor.
“Say ‘hello’ to Pellipedes in Hel, Tarkatha!” Manannan mumbled.
Thannhausefeer’s fat belly rolled with laughter, and he clapped his hands. Only three of the serving girls appeared this time to take away Tarkatha’s corpse and mop the combat area. Manannan noticed that Lydiana had left the room. He went over to sit by the Giant and quaff deeply of his mead cup.
Thannhausefeer was nothing more than a tyrannical oversized cannibal, but—by Fenris!—his mead was good; and killing was thirsty work!
Manannan’s hand instinctively brushed the giant silver wolf’s pelt thrown over his back like a cape while half-emptying his cup with one pull.
“Best go easy on your cups, Man from the Sea. You fight Donthar the Executioner next, and he is not so happy with you. Ever since he showed up, he has been wanting to bed Lydiana; but I gave her to you. Now, she is going to show him something to send the fire coursing through his veins.” Thannhausefeer nodded his head as the flame-haired beauty appeared before the Giant’s table.
Lydiana grinned and her lust-filled eyes met with those of the Giant as they shared more than just a private jest. The dwarfs introduced the tune with a drum beat that reached into the primal area of the brain governing the procreative drive, and the flutes joined in with an eerie minor-key melody. The music bespoke the dangerous seduction of beauty, and Lydiana began slowly and sinuously undulating her hips. She cupped her hands to the slender silver brassiere barely covering her firm breasts and spun in a circle billowing her green gossamer skirt.
All three men, including Thannhausefeer, watched, enspelled. Lydiana thrust her hips, and the drums became more aggressive; and the music louder. She ripped the fabric from her lower body and sensuously stepped out of it like a serpent shedding its skin. Manannan’s cup stopped before it could reach his lips as he sat motionless staring at what was beneath the skirt: another skirt of coarse material with the drawing of a wolf inked upon it. He had seen it before. It was the tattoo on the woman’s back; the woman from his dreams.
He suddenly recalled the woman from his dream say, “To show you I will always remember you… Argantyr!”
Argantyr? That is my name! Argantyr—Argantyr Faoladh as I am known in my homeland of the Tuath je Danaan! And King Argantyr Fenris in the northlands of Skaldavia where I rule!
Lydiana thrust her hips faster and faster, and the wolf’s head jerked and thrust at Manannan-Argantyr, faster and faster! Memories rushed forth and retreated like lightning bolts flashing across the sky and vanishing. Lydiana removed her scant silver scaled top, and her firm bare breasts jiggled.
Even over the music Argantyr could hear the sound of Thannhausefeer swallowing as the giant leaned over and told him, “How do you like her skirt? A gift to my daughter! I have to commend the tattoo artist who put that wolf on the girl’s back. He was exceptional! I traded for the woman taken in a raid, but there was an obedience problem that took great measures to correct. Oh! She screamed and screamed but was defiant to the end! Donthar there is normally excellent at getting someone to do what he wants. He removed her skin while she yet lived, when he was here about a month ago.”
“The trebuchet! One shot and he’s sinking us!” he had shouted as he clenched the gunwale.
I can see through the mists on that fog-bound hill! I can see what was on that hill as clear as day now! There was no trebuchet! It was him! The Giant was standing on the hill throwing boulders at us! He knew King Friodere had sent us to rescue his daughter, Friona! My love! Friona! I was too late to save you, but I am not too late to avenge your death!
Argantyr saw the looks exchanged between Thannhausefeer and Lydiana.
The Giant knows I have come here to kill him. With the luck of the Tuath, he still thinks that I don’t know who I am. Best to let him keep thinking that until I am ready.
Argantyr’s eyes met Lydiana’s, and he arched his eyebrows and smiled, drinking deeply of his cup. With a gesture from his hand, Thannhausefeer signaled for the dance to stop. The music was cut short, and Lydiana suddenly ceased her wicked gyrations. With a gesture from Thannhausefeer’s hand, Lydiana turned and left the room. The gong sounded. No further words were needed. Argantyr and Donthar met in front of Thannhausefeer�
��s table.
Whoosh! Donthar’s axe went at Argantyr, and he ducked the deadly blade. Again and again Donthar the Executioner came on, and his axe blade bit empty air, coming ever closer with each swing. Of a sudden, Argantyr lunged forward; and splinters flew from the Executioner’s axe as Argantyr’s blade hacked into the handle. Blood ran in rivulets from Donthar’s fingers down the handle of his battle-axe. He switched his grip on the weapon, and when he did, Argantyr’s broadsword ripped through Donthar’s hauberk and made a shallow gash in his chest as the Executioner leaned back.
The two men slashed at one another like rabid dogs. Argantyr bled from gashes in his chest and upper arms, and Donthar’s hauberk was shredded. The Executioner’s blue tunic was soaked with his own blood as he bled from what would have been several fatal sword strokes aimed at a slower, lesser warrior.
Donthar brought his axe over and down in a stroke to split Argantyr’s head open had it not been for the man’s panther-like reflexes. Donthar slammed the haft of his axe into Argantyr’s ribs with a blow that would have knocked most men to the ground. Argantyr kicked Donthar in the midsection and knocked him back a few paces. Wind whipped off Argantyr’s blade, but Donthar caught the blow on his axe handle, more splinters flying. Argantyr closed in, and the two of them stood straining, broadsword and battle-axe locked together momentarily, legs braced and pushing the two warriors into one another, steel on steel. Argantyr grunted and pushed Donthar’s axe back a few inches towards the warrior. Then, a few more inches.
“Now, Executioner, you don’t face a helpless girl in steel manacles for you to torture at your leisure! You face King Argantyr Fenris! Know that her name was Friona, and I loved her! That is why I am going to kill you; then the Giant!”
Argantyr could see Donthar’s eyes go wide inside of his hood, then Argantyr ripped the hood from Donthar’s head revealing a face disfigured by chemicals and war. Argantyr head-butted Donthar, and the man fell sitting on the floor, blood streaming down his face. But even with his vision obscured by a broken nose, the Executioner was a dangerous man. No sooner had Donthar hit the floor than he was swinging his mighty axe-blade at Argantyr’s legs. Argantyr leapt high and came down with a blow from his broadsword that split Donthar’s head like a melon. Bits of skull flew up and pelted back down, and brain matter seeped out onto the floor of Thannhausefeer’s great hall.
Argantyr’s ears rung, and his head throbbed from the head-butt he had delivered to Donthar. The memories burst through his brain like water from a broken dam.
Thannhausefeer overturned the massive table to his feasting hall and bellowed. The chamber rumbled as if it were in an earthquake.
“Aye! The jig is up, Giant! You know why I am here, and I know that you didn’t plan on anyone leaving the Isle of Bones with any of your treasure!” Argantyr shouted, plucking the dagger from the belt at his hip and throwing it into Thannhausefeer’s left eye. The Giant roared with pain.
Argantyr clutched his wolf-hooded head in agony. “I remember! Damn you, Giant! I remember! Freae Nome gonastre! Kreedolph hgnome Fenrir! Krynestrees Ryedorf! Hoathehe Fenrir!” Argantyr shouted and fell to one knee as the transformation began. His face contorted and stretched. His clothes ripped, and he instantly expanded in size, silver hair sprouting from his skin. An elongated snout burst from his face, opening wide a mouthful of deadly razor-like fangs.
Thannhausefeer had managed to pluck the dagger from his eye. He picked up his throne and threw it at the Werewolf, but the creature had already moved from its spot and passed by the Giant, ripping a chunk out of his inner thigh with its deadly fangs. Thannhausefeer’s knee buckled. He stumbled backwards and reached for the enormous broadsword on the wall. The Werewolf lunged at the Giant. It stood as nearly as tall as Thannhausefeer on its hind legs. The beast locked powerful jaws on the Giant’s face and Thannhausefeer clumsily dropped his sword as Giant and Werewolf tumbled across the floor.
Blood filled Thannhausefeer’s eyes from his savaged face, and he could no longer see. He felt along the beast’s fur for its throat and clutched at empty air.
“You’ve blinded me! Damn you!” The Giant felt for his table to brace himself. Trying to stand, his face gored, and his right eye hanging from its socket, the Giant fell, slumping to the floor.
Thannhausefeer heard the padding of feet coming down the hall towards his chamber. He heard the heavy breathing of the beast within the great hall and an almost human sound of laughter coming from the Werewolf. It sounded like the sawing of wood.
“No! Lydiana! Stay away!” Thannhausefeer shouted.
The Giant’s daughter screamed. It was too late. The monstrous supernatural wolf gripped Lydiana in its powerful jaws and slung her like a rag doll. She crashed into the wall, and there was a thump and the snapping of bones. She screamed again. The Werewolf locked his jaws on the woman and slung her a second time; another thump—and more bones crunched.
The creature dragged her over beside of her father. Lydiana was unable to move and lay gasping for air but still conscious. Raising himself up on one arm and mustering his strength, Thannhausefeer grasped his enormous broadsword and swung it single-handedly where he heard the Werewolf laughing, but the blade cut empty air; then the beast had its front paws on Thannhausefeer’s chest, tearing the Giant’s throat out. Lydiana could hear Thannhausefeer’s screams segueing into gurgling as blood frothed from his mouth and ran onto the chamber floor. The Werewolf quickly slung Lydiana out of the way so she would not drown in the blood gushing from the dying Giant’s mouth.
* * *
Argantyr rocked on all fours, clad only in the giant silver wolf skin. Crimson flowing from the dead Giant’s blood matted Argantyr’s dark hair and beard, streaming down his naked chest and torso.
Armies had fallen before Argantyr and his hosts, and the ending was always the same. The pain of the man becoming the beast and becoming the man again. Why should it be any different this time?
The wounds sustained in the fight with Donthar were quickly healing; the transformation from man to wolf and back to man always insured a quick recovery in the aftermath of battle.
He clutched at his stomach and retched up blood and bits of the giant’s flesh. While the beast enjoyed consuming the blood of his enemies, the man had little taste for it. It had been the price of empire.
Once the effects of transformation back to a man had subsided, Argantyr rummaged the antechambers of Thannhausefeer’s castle and managed to find enough dead warriors’ garments and furs that hadn’t yet been disposed of. Some of them were an ill fit, but Argantyr managed to make the best of a bad situation. He had done it before. Generally, he prepared before a battle with a fresh change of clothes; but this time circumstances hadn’t allowed for it.
Argantyr could hear the woman’s heavy breathing. He went over and knelt down beside her.
“Manannan, I didn’t want you to die. I wanted to sail away with you, but I knew he wouldn’t let me go. He kept me here as… as a memento of my mother.” She gasped, sucking in air.
Argantyr knew that Lydiana had probably thought about running away with him, but he also knew that she had enough of the cruel Giant’s blood in her that she enjoyed the suffering of others.
Argantyr cradled Lydiana’s head in his left hand so she could see him as he spoke to her. “Listen, woman, my name is Argantyr. That dead woman whose skin you danced in belonged to King Friodere’s daughter, Friona. I loved her.” With his last words, Argantyr slammed his dagger down into Lydiana’s chest. The blow made a thumping sound like a melon struck by a hammer, and blood jettisoned up from the quietus. The woman strangled on the blood frothing from her mouth. Her rheumy eyes widened as she looked upon the House of Shades; and then Lydiana expired.
With his sword slung over his back and his dagger at his hip, he listened for movement amidst the silence of Thannhausefeer’s castle. His wolfen senses were still strong and warned him of no impending danger, but he left his scabbard tip untied. It always paid to be cautious.<
br />
They must have hidden themselves away after hearing what went on in the great hall. It is just as well. I long to be free of the madness of Thannhausefeer’s castle and leave this Isle of Bones.
* * *
Argantyr paced the smoky snow covered shore as he looked upon the burning ships crumbling to ashes. Thannhausefeer had set fire to them all.
A ghostly figure appeared on down the shore, barely in his line of vision under the dim sunless sky. The stinging winter wind whipped the woman’s billowing white gown and blonde hair. He couldn’t make out the features of her face from such a distance with the biting wind blurring his vision. He followed her on down the shore for a while but never seemed to gain any distance on her. She raised her arm languorously and pointed to a ship sailing just on the horizon. By the red and white striped sail with the banner of the great bird of prey in the center, Argantyr knew that it was one of King Friodere’s Sea Hawks, and therefore friendly.
“Ho! Sea Hawk! It is Argantyr Fenris! Ho!” he called to the crew of the ship.
Argantyr could see them lowering a lifeboat and men filing in it to row ashore. Though he surmised that reason had told King Friodere that his daughter was probably dead by now, Argantyr knew there was still hope in his friend’s heart. He dreaded breaking the news to the old king. If Friodere had only summoned Argantyr to look for her sooner…
While he waited for the rescue boat Argantyr scanned the shore for the Woman in White, but there was no sign of her.
The Chamber Of Juleptsu
By Jaron Evil
Gorrim spun the five-foot shaft of the rune-covered battle-axe, sending a whorl of blood and ichor spiralling from Krella’s enchanted double blades. Grimly, he surveyed what could be seen of the cavern’s shadowed depths in the flickering red-orange of the torches lining the stone walls at irregular intervals. This wasn’t the main chamber, he knew; large as it was, he was well aware that the ancient priests and acolytes of the god Juleptsu would never have trusted ultimate guardianship to a few score misshapen subhumans and their pets.
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