A Lesson in Vengeance

by Katrina Eluvae

  One of the General's men stood guard outside the door. Inside the room, Borus could hear the loud clamor of several men arguing in loud panicked voices. As Borus reached to open the door, the guard stopped him.

  "Forgive me, My Lord, but the General's physician has ordered that no one enter this room."

  "This is my keep, not his, now stand aside." Borus said calmly. The guard did not budge. Borus felt anger well up inside him, but it was his bodyguard, Radek, who addressed the guard next.

  "You will stand aside for Lord Borus of Border Keep." Radek was more a siege tower than a man. At his height, the guard was on eye level with the massive ebony masses of sinew and muscle that were Radek's arms, although even they were less threatening than the serious, unforgiving look of his face. It took the guard only a moment to decide that his pay grade was not high enough to tangle with this giant. He stepped aside and allowed Lord Borus into the General's Chambers.

  Instantly Lord Borus knew that Mila's information had proven accurate once again. The room smelled strongly of death. A couple of men in armor surrounded the bed, blocking Borus's view of it's occupant. At the side of the bed was a hunched old man with parchment skin and gnarled fingers. Tufts of white hair shot from his head with no particular sense of order. When he heard the door opened, he whirled around with surprising speed, "I thought I said that no one was to come in here!" The strength of the old man's voice was startling and his eyes were bright and aware. He eyed Lord Borus first, and then Radek, face nodding with understanding, "I see, I see. So it has already come to that, has it? Very well, young Lord, come and see for yourself."

  Lord Borus approached the bed gingerly. He had seen death only once before, his father, years ago. The eerie stillness of his corpse had lingered in his mind, giving him nightmares for weeks. General Tsogai had much the same look, pale and drained, jaw slack, although thankfully someone had closed his eyes. Borus felt his stomach lurch, but managed to choke out a couple of bleak words, "So he's..."

  "Stone dead, my Lord. Please, follow me, you look as though you need some air." The old man led Borus out onto the balcony and shut the door.

  "How? From what...?" Lord Borus could barely force the words out. The old man looked behind them at the other men around the bed, then back at Borus.

  "Listen, Lord. I am Chreas, the General's physician. I am afraid that I have naught but grave news for you."

  "Was he murdered?"

  "I wish that question had a simple. It is my belief that the General died of a weak heart. He had been coming to me for some time now, complaining of a tightness in his chest. However, I was sworn to secrecy on this matter. The General had to remain a vision of strength to the people, and news of a serious health condition would have been detrimental to the kingdom. Now I have informed the men you see behind me of this, but I fear the General's ruse was so good that many of them do not believe that his death could have been natural. They are convinced foul play was involved and demanding that someone be punished. With no record of his illness, as his physician even I am suspect. I am too old to arrest without suitable grounds, but I am not the only one who will be accused. They have sent for the Verdictum. Our lives are going to become very difficult, Lord Borus."

  Lord Borus felt his heart sink, "Where's Nelana?"

  "Nelana? You mean the woman who was in here when he died? She's been taken to the dungeons for questioning."

  "Why did no one summon me? The woman belongs to me."

  "Until the King determines that the General was not murdered by one of your people, his army will seize control of your Keep. You will be kept in a comfort suitable to your stature, but ultimately you are now a prisoner in your own home. I am sorry, but the most I can do for you now is warn you. No doubt Captain Jinyan has already dispatched men to collect you."

  "Captain Jinyan?"

  "A man of little importance yesterday, but with the General's death he is in charge here, so it is a name you soon become quite familiar with. Now, this conversation has continued far past what is safe. Return to your room."

  Borus turned and walked back through the General's room. He could feel suspicious gazes burrowing into him as he passed by the men at the General's bedside. I am Lord of this Keep, he reminded himself and paid them no mind.

  He did not make it far, armed soldiers were waiting for him just outside the doors.

  "Come with us, please, My Lord." The spears in their hands told him that it was not a request. Borus saw Radek's hand go to his sword hilt, and quickly waved him off.

  "Return to your quarters and wait." He told his bodyguard. Radek gave a half nod and left without question. Borus allowed the guards to escort him, walking tall and proud as befit the Lord of Border Keep. He wasn't sure where they were taking him, but he expected it would be his room, the dungeons, or perhaps for an audience with this Captain Jinyan.

  When he saw the double doors in front of him, he wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. A comfort suitable to my stature indeed, he said to himself. The guards opened the doors and led him into what was to be his prison: the harem.

  ***

  The woman who sat by the fire was a shell of the Raaya that Kain knew. She had awoken as the sun had set and had since been huddled near the fire with Kain's cloak pulled tightly around her, staring into the flames with the wide eyes of a frightened child. The slightest noise made her jump: a crackle from the fire, the wind outside, the cry of a bird in the distance.

  Kain handed her a small piece of dried meat, "Eat. You will need your strength, for tomorrow we must leave." She put the meat to her mouth and tried to bite, then winced and put a hand to her cheek. The side of her face was one massive bruise. Kain cursed himself for his stupidity. "Here." He took the dried meat from her and poured some water into a cast iron pot, placing the meat inside. For a few minutes he let the pot sit in the fire, before removing it and fishing the meat back out. After it had cooled a bit, Kain was glad to see that it had softened. Raaya chewed slowly, and each swallow looked excruciating, but she managed to keep the food down.

  They sat in silence around the fire, and Kain prayed for sleep to take one of them. It was not very often that he found quiet unsettling, but he could not bear to look at her hollow face and search for words. "How are your wounds?" He tried tentatively. She did not reply. "You can ride the horse until you get your strength back. I can walk for miles, it's what soldiers do. I can lead the horse while you..."

  The tear that fell down her cheek caught the light of the fire. Then another followed, and another, until her face was streaked with them. "My lady?" His heart leap into his throat. She sobbed, and her hand reached up as if to keep more from escaping her lips, but they came unbidden. "My lady?!" He crawled frantically to her side, "What's wrong?" He heard another sob and he felt his body move on it's own. He seized her shoulders and turned her to face him, "Raaya!"

  Their eyes locked, his filled with concern and hers with tears. Her fear, her agony, and her humiliation shot through him like a lance. He felt his heart pounding. Then his arms locked around her, pulling her against his bare chest. The tears ran from her cheek down his torso and her muffled cries seemed to resonate into his body. With his arms, he wrapped her tightly in a shell of protection and safety.

  Her sobs seemed to continue forever, and Kain was not sure exactly when they stopped and she fell into a deep and much-needed sleep. But by then his eyes were getting heavy...

  ***

  Lord Borus woke to the gentle pressure of Tarla's slender hands on his shoulders. The ground underneath him was ridiculously comfortable, and he must have drifted off to sleep during his massage. "How are you feeling, Master?" Tarla's voice was as soothing as her hands.

  "Mmm, Tarla my pet, if I didn't know any better I would say I was on holiday and not a prisoner in my own castle." A part of Lord Borus had always dreamed of this. Nothing to do but enjoy the comforts and pleasures of his women all day long, not a care in the world. Let this Captain Jinyan try to run my provinc
e, if that is his desire. Borus scolded himself for the thought. He was in a world of trouble now, it was not the time to be thinking of earthly pleasures. I should be focused on how to avoid being charged with conspiracy and murder, but with the scenery who can blame me? There was so much unknown about the situation.

  His greatest worry was for Nelana, he could only hope that she would be safe and that they would quickly discover that she had nothing to do with General Tsogai's death. Attempting to speak with the soldiers that guarded the harem doors was useless. Mindless creatures would barely look at him, let alone answer his questions. Borus wondered if perhaps Captain Jinyan would want an audience with him, but it seemed more likely that he would not be allowed out of the harem until the Verdictum arrived from the capital.

  Verdictum were bad news, Lord Borus had only met with a Verdictum Priest a handful of times, and it was never an experience to be excited for. Verdictum were a sect of strict loyalists to the crown. Three hundred years ago King Ler'liu had gathered his most loyal and trustworthy subjects as upholders of the law and protectors of the divinity of the royal family. The men of the Verdictum were called Priests because they dedicated themselves religiously to these duties. Upon entering the Order, they forsook their names and their families. They took no wives, fathered no children, and owned nothing. They lived to serve as judge and jury to any who stood accused of treason against the crown. As the years passed, they gained a reputation for cruelty and struck fear into the subjects of Shadelyn. Of course, fear could be useful to a King, especially when he had others to do his dirty work for him. None the less, it was widely whispered, albeit very quietly, that the Verdictum had their own political agenda, and widely accepted that one should do whatever they could to avoid crossing them.

  And now the greatest General in all of Shadelyn has seen fit to die in my household. Aren't I the lucky one, Lord Borus mused. Of course Verdictum would be dispatched to investigate. For all of the times I have been guilty and escaped unpunished this time it seems I will face the ultimate punishment for something I had no hand in. He should have been depressed, but somehow he was still able to find humor in the irony. Seems fitting somehow.

  "My darlings, we have found ourselves wrapped up in quite a predicament. Keep up the work. I need to think."

  ~~~

  Chants echoed off of the dank stone walls of the underground Sanctuary. Eventhe torches that lined the walls seemed to quiver with the tension that was building as the ten robed men continued to drone. The thick crimson velvet of their hoods hid their faces in ominous shadow. Then, as suddenly as the chanting began, it stopped. The robed men turned expectedly to face a large set of thick wooden doors that were the only entrance to the large room. They opened noisily, wood grinding along the stone floors producing a noise akin to a coffin lid sliding open. The only sound heard after that was the piercing wail of a woman's scream.

  Two more robed men appeared in the doorway dragging a shackled woman across the floor. She was struggling with the reckless abandon of a woman who knew her life's end was in that room. Her screams were only broken by intermittent gasps for air, but the men dragging her seemed to take no notice, focused solely on delivering her to their destination: a large flat alter in the center of the room. By the time several other men had joined them in raising her up onto it, most of her strength was gone, and she could barely lift her arms to try to keep them from attaching her shackles to the chains on the alter. Her dress was tattered and newly faded, but the fine workmanship of it was still evident. Her sandy blond hair, which had been pinned up neatly just the day before, hung around her face in defeated and uneven strands. Her pale skin was covered in dirt, and the shackles had worn away at her perfect slender wrists until they were red and raw. Her deep green eyes were the only clean things about her, freshly washed by tears, although the flesh surrounding them was puffy and tired.

  She had not noticed the tall man who entered the room behind her, but now he filled her field of vision, towering above her. He too wore a crimson robe, but one could have only wished that his face was hidden for he was no less than a demon from Hell. His skin was an unearthly white, his cheek and jaw bones too sharp, jutting out from his face like blades. His face was too long, mouth too large, his eyes bulging from his head with no eyelids to hold them. Most horrifying of all his attributes, however, was the long pointy tongue that hung from his mouth. It looked more like a spike than a tongue, but it swayed with flexibility and occasionally jumped and twitched like a trapped snake.

  Despite his demonic appearance, he spoke with the voice of a man, a voice which did not seem impeded by the hideous tongue in the least. "The woman before me stands accused of adultery. As the wife of the King's own cousin she has soiled the honor of the royal family and must be Cleansed."

  "Let it be so." Intoned the men in unison. The woman loosed another piercing scream and the man produced a white cloth, tying it across her mouth and around her head, ignoring her pleas. His hands were cold and clammy and he ran his long fingernails along her smooth cheeks with a low sadistic sound that could only be a chuckle.

  The Demon waived at one of the robed men, who brought forth a large curved knife. The woman's eyes widened in fear and she began to cry again. The Demon began to cut her dress away, the fabric offering now resistance to the sharp blade. Soon her clothing lay in pieces on the floor.

  Now all of the robed men stepped forward and began to chant again. They placed there hands on the woman's body as she writhed beneath them. She felt a pair of hands on her legs, and the chains on the alter were tightened, pulling her legs apart. One of the robed men turned a crank on the side of the alter, and the woman heard the creaking of stone beneath her. Below her hips, part of the alter was raising, lifting her lower torso up. The woman felt the cold musty air between her legs and shivered.

  The Demon reached his hand out and grabbed a handful of her thick tresses. Then, with a swift movement, he sliced through the strands. Then he snatched up a second handful, and a third. The hair fell down around him until her scalp was as bare as the rest of her body. With the last strand of hair, the Demon turned to face a large black candle near the altar.

  "Let the Gods be pleased by this offering, and let them see fit to Cleanse this woman that she may be white with purity." He held the hair up to the flame and it was instantly swept up in the heat. The flame of the candle turned from a red to a stunning white. The Demon turned back to the other robed men, "The flame turns white, the Gods answer our prayers. Bring forth the Chalice."

  A large bronze chalice was presented to the Demon, filled with a small amount of dark red liquid. He turned back to face the ebony candle, lifting it from its stand and tilting it so that a few drops of the black wax dripped into the chalice. The white flame seemed to burn even brighter as he returned it to its stand.

  The chanting began again as the Demon walked to the other side of the alter, standing in between the womans legs. He held the chalice high above his head and shouted above the chanting, "Let the Cleansing commence!" Two of the robed men seized her thighs and spread her legs.

  The woman shuddered as she felt the Demon's cold clammy hands spread the lips of her pussy apart. He poured some of the liquid from the chalice on the exposed pink skin. It was warm, almost too hot to bear. The woman closed her eyes, and then felt a sudden prickling sensation. She looked down and screamed in terror. The Demon's head was lowered between her legs, and the long spiky tongue was moving along her outer lips. It felt scaly, but smooth, like snake skin, and moved along her folds with disturbing dexterity. The woman fought to close her legs, but the robed men held her firm. Her struggles increased again as the tongue dug deeper into the folds, and then penetrated her suddenly.

  She could feel the tongue of the Demon moving inside her, as though some alien creature had crawled into her body. It pushed in and out, unaffected by her shrieks. His fingers grasped the backs of her legs, cutting into her flesh.

  When at last he stopped, she dismayed to
see that it was only to shed his robe. He was jarringly thin, bones sticking out all over his body, but what stuck out most noticeably was his large prick, and as he crawled up onto the altar she knew what would happen next.

  As she braced herself, someone seized her head, pulling the gag out of the way. The Demon was holding the chalice above her head, and something forced her mouth open. The liquid rained down upon her, all over her face, and into her mouth. She swallowed and choked for air, and heat and spice seemed to light her tongue on fire. She felt the burning all the way down her throat, felt more of the liquid hit her lips, and swallowed again. She gasped for air again, and she felt the Demon's cock slide inside her. Her muscles seized up, and she tried to struggle. Then suddenly, something seemed to disconnect. She could feel the Demon fucking her, she could feel the cold of the altar on her back, the vibration of the chanting men, but it was as if someone had wrapped her senses in a layer of cotton. She found she could no longer control her body. She tried to cry out, but the scream did not escape her mind to find the air. Her vision began to blur and the last thing she saw before consciousness left her was the Demon's face, lips pulled around his tongue in a twisted smile.