The Feast

by Rowan Bree

  Eventually you arrive at a stone archway draped with black curtains. The server exits no longer carrying the decanter. This must be the party Sybil wanted you to find. You can hear hushed voices beyond and stop to listen for a moment before entering.

  “Have you found her yet?” The voice is thin but petulant.

  “No, sir. No one has seen her since the forest.” The second voice much deeper, but scared.

  “She’s in the capital. I can feel it.”

  “We don’t need her tonight.”

  “The longer she is in Tyven, the greater the chance they’ll get to her. I won’t let that happen. She’s mine.”

  Someone gooses you from behind and you turn to see Eli smiling at you. He looks like he can barely stand and is hiccupping.

  “What are you doing here?” you hiss. Jasper said Eli wasn’t coming to the feast.

  “I’m saving the kingdom,” he slurs. “I couldn’t just stay in the hideout, could I?”

  “What about Jasper’s plan?” you ask him. “Don’t you trust him?”

  “Where is he now?” Eli replies, thrusting his arms out wildly. You fear he will topple over.

  “Right on the other side of that curtain are a whole lot of mages. A whole lot of nobles too, from all over the kingdom. Any moment now the mages are going to make their move, and where is our fearless leader? Probably flirting with half the kingdom at the feast.”

  “You’re not the only one who wishes Jasper were here.” A man in a dark robe emerges from behind the curtain. He stands far too close to the both of you, but you don’t realize why until you feel the sharp point of a dagger at your side. You can see every detail of his face, from his pointed chin to his petulant pout. His eerie violet eyes are partially obscured by long, silvery hair.

  You don’t know who this man is.

  You remember Vale.

  You don’t recognize the man, though he seems to know you.

  “Oh look it’s the Order’s bitch,” Eli says.

  The man smiles and feigns a kiss in Eli’s direction. “It’s been far too long,” he says.

  He then turns to you, his violet eyes drinking up every inch of you. “And you, my dear. I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure. I’m Vale, a mage of the Order and the only one around here with the kingdom’s best interests in mind. I do hope you haven’t been fooled by their lies about me. I’m quite harmless.”

  “And the daggers?” Eli asks.

  Vale’s expression turns dark. “A necessary precaution. Now come with me.”

  He takes you through the curtained archway into a room filled with robed figures and guests from the feast in their fine clothes. Red candles burn in sconces. An open space has been cleared in the middle of the room and a circular symbol carved into the stone floor.

  “The main course has arrived,” he says. He gestures to the robed figures. “Get rid of the slaves.”

  Among the well-dressed guests are half-naked people in chains and dirty linens. They don’t put up any resistance as they are herded out of the room. As you look around you notice a man seated in a plush chair. He is wearing a golden crown and the finest robes coin can buy. Beside him are several stiff-looking guardsmen. Has the king already fallen under the Order’s influence?

  Vale forces you into the carved circle in the center of the room. Eli finds your hand and clasps it tightly.

  “Don’t worry,” he whispers.

  Vale paces in front of you addressing the guests. “Tonight, I’ve prepared a special treat for Doria’s friends. As you know there has been some resistance to the idea that things could change, that Doria could be something more than an old enemy of the kingdom.”

  Aside from the king, you wonder just how many of these guests are representatives from the kingdom. How many cities are about to fall to the Order?

  “These two traitors are the real threat. They and their kind spread fear and distrust among our people. They would have you believe that the Order is still stuck in its old ways, that we haven’t learned from our mistakes and still want the kingdom to ourselves.”

  There are chuckles amongst the guests.

  Vale smiles demurely. “And so we must teach them the error of their ways. We’ll have fun humiliating them tonight then offer them to our gods. We’ll make an example of them so others won’t follow in their misguided footsteps.”

  He rubs his pale hands together as if preparing for a delicious meal. His eyes flash red as he looks at you.

  “Dear kitten, if you could be so kind as to remove your clothes.”

  Eli’s hand tightens around yours.

  Strip.

  Resist.

  You recognize the mage Vale. Fear runs through your body. Has he been looking for you this whole time?

  “Oh look it’s the Order’s bitch,” Eli says.

  Vale smiles and feigns a kiss in Eli’s direction. “It’s been far too long,” he says. “For both of you.”

  You feel the pinch of the dagger point at your side.

  “Now come with me,” Vale says.

  He takes you through the curtained archway into a room filled with robed figures and guests from the feast in their fine clothes. Red candles burn in sconces. An open space has been cleared in the middle of the room and a circular symbol carved into the stone floor.

  “The main course has arrived,” he says. He gestures to the robed figures. “Get rid of the slaves.”

  Among the well-dressed guests are half-naked people in chains and dirty linens. They don’t put up any resistance as they are herded out of the room. As you look around you notice a man seated in a plush chair. He is wearing a golden crown and the finest robes coin can buy. Beside him are several stiff-looking guardsmen. Has the king already fallen under the Order’s influence?

  Vale forces you into the carved circle in the center of the room. Eli finds your hand and clasps it tightly.

  “Don’t worry,” he whispers. “Our friends are nearby.”

  You don’t see any friendly faces in the crowd.

  Vale paces in front of you addressing the guests. “Tonight, I’ve prepared a special treat for Doria’s friends. As you know there has been some resistance to the idea that things could change, that Doria could be something more than an old enemy of the kingdom.”

  Aside from the king, you wonder just how many of these guests are representatives from the kingdom. How many cities are about to fall to the Order?

  “These two traitors are the real threat. They and their kind spread fear and distrust among our people. They would have you believe that the Order is still stuck in its old ways, that we haven’t learned from our mistakes and still want the kingdom to ourselves.”

  There are chuckles amongst the guests.

  Vale smiles demurely. “And so we must teach them the error of their ways. We’ll have fun humiliating them tonight then offer them to our gods. We’ll make an example of them so others won’t follow in their misguided footsteps.”

  He rubs his pale hands together as if preparing for a delicious meal. His eyes flash red as he looks at you.

  “Dear kitten, if you could be so kind as to remove your clothes.”

  Eli’s hand tightens around yours.

  Strip.

  Resist.

  Getting out of the castle isn’t worth losing your dignity over. You tell Berwick that you’ll be fine without his help.

  He shrugs. “Your funeral.”

  He snaps his fingers and disappears in a cloud of sparkles, leaving the floor just as dirty as it was before he started cleaning.

  You wonder how long it will be before someone realizes you’re in here. Just as you start to nod off you hear a rattle at the door. A sneering face peers in at you through the bars. It’s the slaver who used you while you were sleeping.

  “I must be the luckiest man alive,” he says. “Here I was raiding the castle while the stupid king and his guards got shitfaced at the feast, and who should I f
ind but the pretty little flower we sold just today?”

  You panic until you realize he can’t get to you. Only the guards have keys to the castle. You ignore his taunts, hoping he’ll have the sense to leave soon before he’s caught.

  “Lemme come say hi,” he says, rummaging in his trouser pockets. He takes out a lock pick and goes to work on the door.

  You look around the room for a place to hide, but the wardrobe is all there is and if you go in there you’ll be cornered. The slaver unlocks the door and comes for you. He catches you up against the wall.

  “I remember how your tight little cunt squeezed my cock,” he says, holding your wrists to keep you from hitting him. “I know you’re dripping for me. Just let me have you.”

  He lets go of one of your wrists to push up your skirts. You strike at him but he grabs you again.

  “Don’t be a bad girl,” he growls. “You know I’m a lot stronger than you and I can leave you broken if I want to.”

  You swallow back sobs as he gropes at you, his fingers finding just how wet you are. He laughs as he torments you. He knows how hard you’re trying to fight what you’re feeling.

  He makes you cum with his fingers, leaving them slick with your juices. He lifts them to your lips and shoves them into your mouth. You can taste yourself on your tongue as he threatens to make you gag.

  “I’m gonna give you something to remember me by,” he says, pushing his cock into you.

  He keeps your mouth open with his fingers as he fucks you, giving you no way to stifle your lewd moans. You close your eyes and try to conjure up another lover, someone noble and kind and handsome. But you can smell the slaver’s sweat, the dust from the slaving roads, and feel his coarse hands on your body. No matter how you try to fool yourself, the man fucking you is no prince. And still he makes you come.

  He grunts, pressing his face against your cheek as he cums. His hand slides down from your mouth to your breast leaving a slimy trail all the way down to your nipple. He bucks a couple times, making sure his seed finds its way deep inside you.

  “Come find me when the kid’s old enough to learn the slave trade,” he says, letting you go.

  You hope to the gods you won’t have to.

  After the slaver leaves you cautiously make your way out through the open door into the hallway. There is not a soul in sight and the castle is quiet. You assume everyone is busy at the feast.

  You wander the hallways until you come to a door. It leads out to the wilds to the north of the castle. As you step out into the fresh air, the door closes behind you. You hear the click of a lock. You will not be getting back into the castle.

  You look at your surroundings. North are the mountains, and to the west a deep forest, ancient and full of magic. Following the castle walls east would bring you to the sea.

  The deep forest.

  The mountains.

  The sea.

  Getting out isn’t worth losing your dignity over. You tell Berwick that you’ll be fine without his help.

  He shrugs. “Your funeral.”

  He snaps his fingers and disappears in a cloud of sparkles, leaving the floor just as dirty as it was before he started cleaning.

  You wonder how long it will be before someone realizes you’re in here. Just as you start to nod off you hear a rattle at the door. A sneering face peers in at you through the bars. He looks like he belongs locked up more than you do.

  “I must be the luckiest man alive,” he says. “Here I was raiding the castle while the stupid king and his guards got shitfaced at the feast, and who should I find but a pretty little flower all alone and unguarded?”

  You panic until you realize he can’t get to you. Only the guards have keys to the castle. You ignore his taunts, hoping he’ll have the sense to leave soon before he’s caught.

  “Lemme come say hi,” he says, rummaging in his trouser pockets. He takes out a lock pick and goes to work on the door.

  You look around the room for a place to hide, but the wardrobe is all there is and if you go in there you’ll be cornered. The thief unlocks the door and comes for you. He catches you up against the wall.

  “I bet your cunt squeezes tight,” he says, holding your wrists to keep you from hitting him. “They always do, the ones that put up a fight.”

  He lets go of one of your wrists to push up your skirts. You strike at him but he grabs you again.

  “Don’t be a bad girl,” he growls. “You know I’m a lot stronger than you and I can leave you broken if I want to.”

  You swallow back sobs as he gropes at you, his fingers finding that you’re actually wet despite your resistance. He laughs as he torments you. He knows how hard you’re trying to fight what you’re feeling.

  “Don’t cry,” he says. “You should be used to this.”

  He makes you cum with his fingers, leaving them slick with your juices. He lifts them to your lips and shoves them into your mouth. You can taste yourself on your tongue as he threatens to make you gag.

  “I’m gonna give you something to remember me by,” he says, pushing his cock into you.

  He keeps your mouth open with his fingers as he fucks you, giving you no way to stifle your lewd moans. You close your eyes and try to conjure up another lover, someone noble and kind and handsome. But you can smell the man’s sweat tinged with dust and feel his coarse hands on your body. No matter how you try to fool yourself, the man fucking you is no prince. And still he makes you come.

  He grunts, pressing his face against your cheek as he cums. His hand slides down from your mouth to your breast leaving a slimy trail all the way down to your nipple. He bucks a couple times, making sure his seed finds its way deep inside you.

  “Come find me when the kid’s old enough to learn how to pick a lock,” he says, letting you go.

  You hope to the gods you won’t have to.

  After the thief leaves you cautiously make your way out through the open door into the hallway. There is not a soul in sight and the castle is quiet. You assume everyone is busy at the feast. But you belong upstairs at the Order’s private party.

  The party.

  You try to quietly slip back into the party but a commotion at the far end of the room keeps you from getting far. Two Order members in black robes are dragging an unconscious darkwood elf into the center of the room. The guests clear space to make space for them. You immediately recognize Eli and wonder what he’s doing here. Jasper said he wasn’t coming to the feast. It was supposed to be just you, Jasper, and Sybil.

  A lithe, pale man in starched black robes approaches the elf. He has silvery hair and violet eyes.

  You don’t know him.

  Recognize Vale.

  You hear one of them call him Vale, and from what you can gather he is their superior. The men hand over Eli and draw back to the edge of the room.

  Vale positions Eli on his knees in the center of the circle etched into the stone floor. The elf’s head lolls forward against his chest.

  Vale snaps his fingers. Eli’s eyes flutter and he wakes with a stream of epithets for the Order. Vale silences him with an invisible gag. Eli’s arms are bound likewise by magic to his sides. His face turns purple as he tries to fight them.

  “The sacrifice is ready. All we need is your word,” Vale says over Eli’s angry grunts.

  You look to where Vale is addressing and see a man seated on a plush chair off to the side. He is wearing a golden crown and the finest robes coin can buy. Beside him are several stiff-looking guardsmen. They look to one another in unease but avoid the gaze of their king.

  “He is a traitor to the kingdom?”

  Vale nods gravely. “Your guardsmen will recognize him from the prisons. He only escaped recently. Among his outstanding charges are public indecency, resisting arrest, belligerent drunkenness, and treason. He has been spreading the lies of the rebellion and causing unrest amongst your people. And I believe the punishment in Tyven for treason is death?”
>
  The king strokes his beard in thought. “And if you make this sacrifice, my wife will return?”

  Vale nods again. “Returned to full life as if she had never left. She will feel as though she was ill for a long time but won’t remember her death.”

  A pained look appears on the king’s face. He coughs to cover it.

  “Very well. Proceed.”

  It might be a trick of the light but you think you see the mage’s eyes flash red. He smiles and rubs his hands together.

  “Looks like this is the end for you,” he says to Eli, pulling a dagger from his robes.

  Eli’s eyes bulge with fear at the sight of the weapon.

  “You don’t know how long I’ve waited to gut you. Too bad Jasper’s not here to see you die.”

  He raises the dagger and begins to chant. The candles in the room flare brighter and a wind stirs though there are no open windows. If you do nothing Eli is going to be sacrificed, but do you stand a chance against a room full of mages and three of the king’s guards? You wish Jasper were here.

  Attack Vale.

  Make a distraction so Eli can escape.

  You recognize the mage Vale from your time in the forest. You never thought you’d have the misfortune of seeing him again. You wonder if he ever thinks about what you did to him in that basement room.

  Vale positions Eli on his knees in the center of the circle etched into the stone floor. The elf’s head lolls forward against his chest.

  Vale snaps his fingers. Eli’s eyes flutter and he wakes with a stream of epithets for the Order. Vale silences him with an invisible gag. Eli’s arms are bound likewise by magic to his sides. His face turns purple as he tries to fight them.