by Isaac Hooke
As soon Wendolin removed Weyanna’s collar, Malem told the half dragon: “Heal Mauritania.”
Weyanna nodded. With her powers back, she was able to readily heal the arrow wound Mauritania had suffered in her bicep. Weyanna also moved among the other injured members of his party, and similarly healed them. Malem broke a few more oraks to feed her stamina, and to boost the recovery levels of those she healed.
Malem gazed at the tents beyond, searching for signs of Vorgon. The Balor’s presence felt strong in his head, but that could also mean Vorgon had positioned itself close to the portal that led to this world—and not that the demon was actually here.
You’ve done it, Vorgon said, as if sensing his searching. I knew you wouldn’t let me down, Defiler.
Partially, Malem agreed. I couldn’t secure her army, however. The elves refused to follow her. In fact, they tried to kill her the whole time we escaped.
Vorgon’s deep laughter boomed in his head. I don’t care about their army. They will be burned out when we ignite the forest. And as they emerge, my black host will slay them to the last man, woman, and child. Their queen is the only one I desire. You are hereby restored to your position of top lieutenant. You are my greatest Black Sword once more.
Thank you, Master, Malem sent. But tell me, how will you transfer Wendolin’s Breaking to yourself? I Broke her during the rescue, as you commanded. Can this be undone?
That was the most pressing question on his mind.
Alas, but it cannot, Vorgon replied. You must die when the time comes. It is the only way to undo what you have done.
Malem remained silent. He had dreaded this news, and yet somehow it brought him internal peace.
I have fulfilled my promise to you, Vorgon continued. You are my top lieutenant once again. But I never said how long you would last in this position.
Malem nodded. You did not. But it doesn’t matter. I understand, and I am glad to serve you in whatever way I can, even if that service must be in death.
You are a good slave, Vorgon said. One of my best. I will be sorry to lose you, Defiler.
All I ask is that you allow those I have Broken to go free when I am gone, Malem sent.
I will do this to honor you, Vorgon returned. In fact, all of your companions may go at any time, starting from this moment. I will inform my other Black Swords that none of them are to be touched. All may go save the tree elf queen. She is mine. And you of course must remain as well. Until I summon you.
I understand, Malem said. Thank you, Master.
Let no one ever say I am unkind, and unmerciful, Vorgon replied.
When can I expect your call? Malem said.
Tomorrow morning, with the dusk. I am sending servants to collect Wendolin.
One last night on this earth. That wasn’t so bad. It was long enough to make his goodbyes. At least Malem had the chance to say goodbye. Many never even got that.
A group composed of oraks, goblings and dwarves approached from the black tents. They surrounded Wendolin. She glanced at Malem, confused.
“Go with them,” he told her.
Wendolin bowed her head. The sadness he felt from her as she departed cut keenly.
“She’s not going to stay with us?” Gwenfrieda asked.
“No,” Malem replied. “I’ve cut a deal with Vorgon. All of you are free to go, save for Wendolin, who will become his mate.”
“Wait, we’re all free to go?” Gwenfrieda asked. “But what about you?”
Malem shook his head. “I’m part of the deal.”
“Then we’ll stay with you, too,” Weyanna said.
Malem smiled at her fondly. “Really? Now you want to stay? You’ve been wanting to get away ever since I joined this army. All of you have.”
He glanced at the others, who remained silent.
“Well, I bargained with Vorgon,” Malem said. “You’re all free to go.” He waited, but no one moved. Were they just too shocked by the news? “Go!”
“What’s going to happen to you?” Mauritania asked quietly.
Malem shot her a grim smile. “Tomorrow at dusk, Vorgon will take my life.”
Gwenfrieda gasped, and then started crying.
He turned toward her, and felt anger burn. “What the hell’s wrong with you? I’ve felt hate from you, and rage. You even tried to run away!”
But she didn’t answer, she just cried.
He glanced at Abigail. Tears were streaming down her cheeks as well. She was still in dragon form, and it somehow hurt to watch a beautiful dragon cry like that.
Malem shook his head. “Just go. Don’t make this harder than it is. You’re free now.”
“Not like this,” Gwenfrieda finally said, between sobs. “I never wanted this. I wanted to be free yes, free from what you’d become. But I wanted to do it myself. I never wanted you to have to die so that I could escape.”
“Well, that’s the price,” Malem said roughly.
“You can’t do this,” Ziatrice said. “We were supposed to rule the world together.”
“There will be no world to rule after Vorgon is done,” Malem said. “In fact, this is probably for the best. I’m not sure I want to see what the land looks like when this war is done.”
“Let’s go, Sylfi,” Brita said. She was still in dragon form, like her sister.
Sylfi hesitated, blinking several times as if she too might cry, but when Brita took to the air, Sylfi followed. The two of them flew northwest, heading around the outskirts of the Dothweald. No doubt they intended to collect the stuff they had stowed along the northern edges of the forest.
Sylfi glanced over her shoulder at him once, but then turned her long neck away, and didn’t look back again.
Malem smiled sadly. He glanced at Solan and Gannet. “Nothing is holding either of you here as well. You might as well go. You’ll feel me in your head the rest of today, and tonight. But tomorrow morning, I will be gone forever.”
Gannet and Solan simply stared at him, stunned. But then Gannet turned toward the others.
“Do any of you want a ride?” Gannet asked.
No one answered him.
Gannet shrugged, and transformed. He took to the skies, heading northwest after the two chromium dragons.
Solan approached. He shook Malem’s hand. “It was an honor to fight by your side.”
Incredibly, Solan’s eyes were wet.
“I don’t understand any of you,” Malem said quietly. “I Broke you against your will. You should hate me.”
“Oh, I did hate you,” Solan said. “But I realize how that hatred was misplaced. I wish I could have met you before you were Vorgon’s. I’m sure you were an incredible man. Someone whom I would strive to emulate.” His voice cracked near the end, and his chin quivered. Solan was definitely having a hard time keeping it together.
“Don’t weep for me,” Malem said. “My death serves a greater cause.”
Solan nodded. “It hurts all the more that you actually believe that.”
The half dragon said nothing more. He transformed, and followed his friend to the west.
“I think I’ll stay, till morning,” Weyanna said.
“I, too,” Mauritania said.
“I’m not leaving, not until I see your body,” Gwenfrieda said. She sniffled, and wiped a hand underneath her nose.
Ziatrice nodded. “I’m going to fuck some sense into you tonight. Earlier, if you’ll have me.”
Malem laughed. “I’m going to fuck all of you before this day is done, don’t you worry.” He glanced at Abigail. “You’re staying, too?”
The silver dragon bobbed her head. She didn’t say a word. He didn’t think she could, given the emotional distress he felt from her energy bundle.
Malem nodded. “Well, collect your stuff from the forest’s edge. Unless you trust Sylfi and the others not to loot it. In the meantime, I’m going to my tent. I’ll call each of you when I’m ready.”
He headed toward the line of tents.
Well, th
at went better than I thought it would.
28
Throughout the rest of that day, Malem had sex with all of the women in turn, and sometimes in groups of two and three. Vorgon had granted him access to his stamina again—it seemed the least the Balor could do, now that Malem was destined to die—and Malem leeched endurance liberally, so he could go at it again and again.
Still, he felt hollow inside. The knowledge of his own death somehow put a tamper on the lovemaking. Oh sure, it was often frantic, full of the desperate knowledge that this would be the last time he would hold any of them, and definitely pleasurable. But it almost felt too routine. Plus, there were too many tears shed among the women. He hated watching a woman cry, especially after sex.
He wanted some time to himself, and so he dismissed everyone. He reviewed his life, thinking of his father, his uncle, and all the people who had influenced him while growing up. The way he had felt like an outcast for so long, moving from village to village, running from the Darkness Banvil had sent after him week after week for twenty years. He had lived such a strange life, that he didn’t really feel he belonged among men. Beasts had been his companions.
He wanted to go to the forest and seek out some of those beasts, but when he glanced that way, across the tops of the ocean of tents, he saw only burning trees.
No, even that avenue was closed to him.
He sat back down in the center of his tent. He had long ago changed out of his dragonscale armor, and he wore now only a loose tunic and breeches. And sandals. He kicked them off before folding his feet together on the bed, and then meditated.
The sky became dark when evening came, but the northern horizon glowed a bright orange as the fires continued through the night. He heard distant shouts and screams, the clang of blades, the sizzle of dark magic, and was glad he wasn’t spending his last night in battle. It was strange: he always thought he would have preferred a heroic death in battle, but he realized there was nothing heroic about dying to an enemy’s blades.
He thought of the day’s lovemaking, and smiled. Maybe he should call the women back, and give it one more go. But then he remembered how routine it had felt. Even with two or three of them at the same time, there were only so many positions, and only so long until he could hold out before climax.
What he really wanted, this last night he was alive, was to experience the conquest of a fresh lay. He wanted to take someone new to his bed, one last time. Yes, that was what he was missing. That was the solution to the routineness of it all.
He considered his options. There were more than a few female night elves in the camp, but most of them would probably be out in the forest, still fighting. What about a female tree elf? No, too much work. He didn’t feel like fighting for his life, while trying to seduce.
What about Wendolin? He could feel her in his head, and thought he knew where her position was. No, that would probably piss off Vorgon, considering he wanted to make her his bride. He wouldn’t be too happy if Malem had sex with her on the eve of her wedding.
What about Sylfi or Brita, then? He could still detect them with his beast sense, if only barely. It felt like they’d all camped out somewhere to the west, around twenty to thirty miles away. They should have been a lot farther away—dragons could cover a lot of ground from the air—so he thought it a little odd they were still in the vicinity. Still, they were definitely too far away for him to exert any influence. But he believed that if he tried he could still send a message.
He reached out and focused on Sylfi. Are you there?
As he waited for her to answer, he went through the rules he was going to employ. The seduction had to be done naturally: there was to be no forcing of his will upon her. He wanted to be able to die knowing he still had what it took to bring a women to his bed. That six months in Vorgon’s rule hadn’t entirely corrupted him, nor ruined his old charm.
But Sylfi didn’t answer.
He tried again.
Sylfi?
Sylfi.
No good.
He shrugged. He supposed she was out of range. That had to be it. She wouldn’t be purposely ignoring him.
Actually, there was a good chance she was.
So much for still having what it took.
He thought about going to the night elf section of the camp, and browsing from flap to flap until he found a female who had remained behind. Or one who had simply become too exhausted to go on fighting, and had returned to the camp to rest.
But an exhausted woman wouldn’t really suit his purposes.
And then he wondered if he should try to contact Brita instead. Her sister would be just as good.
I’m here, came the sudden, weak reply.
He perked up. Sylfi. Why haven’t you left?
Gannet and Brita wanted to continue north to look for the remnants of our people. But Solan wanted to stay, just in case there was something we could do here. I agreed with him.
You wanted to stay in case you could help me? he pressed.
No, not help you, she said. Stop Vorgon.
Oh. He couldn’t help the disappointment he felt. He had hoped she would act differently toward him without her sister around. It looked like he was wrong about her.
You forgot to mute us during sex, Sylfi said, surprising him with her choice of topics. Maybe he wasn’t wrong after all.
I thought you were far enough away that it wouldn’t matter, he lied. In fact, he had hoped she and her sister would feel the pleasure, so they would understand what it was they were missing.
We still felt it, Sylfi said. A hint of it anyway.
Maybe you’d like to feel it up close, and for real? he asked.
It would certainly feel good to cross one more woman off his bucket list. He’d been pining after her since he first met Sylfi.
She didn’t answer.
Not surprising. She wasn’t going to make this final conquest easy.
He chuckled.
My last night on earth, and all I can think to do with my time is seduce a woman.
Well, it was an honorable pursuit, as far as he was concerned. What else was he to do? Cry over all the things he never got to do? Or look back on his life and allow himself to fill with regret?
No. He’d rather spend it with a new woman.
And when he had her, he would visit the other women in turn, and wish them farewell. No more sex.
Maybe.
Is your sister asleep? he pressed.
Still no answer. At least not right away. Then:
Yes, Sylfi replied.
What about Solan, and Gannet?
Solan is on watch, she said.
Why don’t you come to my tent in person? he sent. I just want to talk.
We can talk here, she said.
All right, I’ll be brutally honest with you, he said. I want to see you one more time before I die. Don’t worry, we’re not going to have sex. I’ve been having sex all day, and I’m sick of it. I truly just want to talk with you. In person. Face to face. Because, to be honest, this mental thing isn’t quite the same. Help me forget the death that awaits me tomorrow.
That latter line was borrowed from Gwenfrieda’s playbook. She’d used almost those same words to seduce him the first time they’d met. And they worked, because there was truth behind them. She was trying to forget the death of the villagers who had treated her like family. Just as Malem was trying to forget his own coming doom.
But Sylfi didn’t answer. Not for a long moment.
We’re not having sex, Sylfi finally said.
Yes, I agree, he told her. I already said that. We’re just going to talk.
Another pause. Then: I will come.
Malem exhaled in relief. He went to the king-sized bed that the oraks had unpacked for him and placed in the center of his tent, and lay back. He was already getting semi hard thinking about her arrival.
He could sense her approach. She was flying quickly, as if she desired this meeting as urgently as he did.
&n
bsp; He smiled. Now that he had finally separated the two sisters, he would see if that made a difference.
His mind momentarily lingered on his coming doom, which was only hours away, but he forced those thoughts aside. Sylfi truly would help him forget.
He heard the swoosh of large wings flapping outside, and then the shadow of a dragon appeared on the outskirts of the tent, where her form intercepted the light of nearby campfires. That shadow quickly diminished in size, becoming that of a human. The hourglass shape of a beautiful woman came into focus on the fabric, the bulge of breasts peeking out from either side of the upper chest area—she was holding up her arms, as if stretching. When she lowered her hands, those hips swung sensuously as she approached.
The oraks standing guard at the entrance let her pass: he’d already given them instructions to allow all women through. Especially the more beautiful variety.
Sylfi entered, completely naked after her recent transformation.
Malem stood up and slid a spare robe around her body. She accepted readily, and covered herself, though he sensed a fleeting burst of disappointment from her energy bundle.
He realized he could have probably started kissing her from the get-go.
But her face betrayed no sign of that disappointment, and he chose to ignore his beast sense. He had promised to do this naturally, and using his link with her to read her emotions was tantamount to cheating in his view.
And where’s the fun in kissing from the get-go, anyhow?
He led her to the bed and sat down next to her.
She smiled faintly. “You know, I thought I’d hate you, but it’s good to see your face again.”
He stared at her pixieish features and smiled right back. “I grow on people. It happens.”
“It’s too bad you’re serving the wrong side,” she said.
He scowled, and looked away. “Can we not talk politics just this once?”