Vassal

by Sterling D'Este

  So, with Enyo’s gaze locked on his, Etienne narrowed his eyes and stared back in just as calculating a manner.

  Initially, Enyo seemed irked by this eye contact, as though she had enjoyed his fear in the past. But as Etienne continued to gaze into her fiery eyes without flinching, a small, but deeply concerning smile traced her lips.

  She released the tree and approached him, one hand reaching to gently grip the front of his tunic. He swallowed hard.

  He had taken worse.

  Much worse…

  But Etienne was starting to doubt the logic of his current decision, especially after the last time he stood up to Enyo. He didn’t want to break any more bones. Still, he couldn’t give in yet. Not this easily.

  Behind them, Delyth continued to bustle around the campfire, but Etienne didn’t let the sounds draw his eyes away. Instead, he held his ground beneath the increasing scrutiny of the Goddess.

  Enyo chuckled, releasing his tunic with a flick of her wrist.

  “I hadn’t realized you had anything worthwhile between your legs, Mandi. What a pleasant surprise to see otherwise.” Her fingertips came to brush up the length of his thigh. “Do you know, it has been such a long time. So very long since I was offered the pleasure of watching…” She smiled, and for once, it didn’t look cruel.

  ༄

  Delyth had all but finished the dinner Alphonse had started when she heard Enyo speak again. It had been silent for a long stretch, and the halfbreed cursed herself for not noticing it sooner. She leaped up and turned to find them.

  Etienne was flinching back, his shirt rumpled and his face pale from fear or discomfort. Delyth wasn’t sure. Enyo’s hand—Alphonse’s hand was tracing lines down his unsteady thigh.

  “W-watching?” Etienne stammered, and Delyth groaned inwardly. What had he done to get her so riled up?

  “Enyo,” she said, stepping closer, “leave Etienne alone. There’s food to eat instead.”

  The Goddess turned to look at the food. She sniffed and then turned up her nose. “This body does not require such things.” A downright lie. Alphonse had been talking just minutes earlier about how hungry she was.

  “What will you give me, Ba’oto, to consider your request?” Her gaze traced over Delyth’s fine features and then her bust, down her strong legs.

  Delyth shifted uneasily, but at least the Goddess’s attention had turned away from Etienne. Even after being around Enyo on and off for weeks, it was still unsettling to see Alphonse’s face leer.

  “What do you want, Taouk?” she asked. She supposed she could always make another sacrifice of her blood, but Delyth hadn’t told Etienne about that one. It was too close to the first time Delyth had truly seen Enyo. Too like drinking Alphonse’s blood.

  “A gift. Give your Taouk a gift.” She gestured between Etienne and Delyth. “Join.” A simple command.

  “No.” Delyth felt more than saw Etienne turn towards her, but her eyes never left Enyo. “Ask for something else.”

  Alphonse’s brows, normally pulled together in hidden amusement or arched in delighted surprise, darted straight up her forehead.

  “No? Hmmm.” Enyo shrugged, as if she didn’t care one bit. “This is all I require tonight. The moon is smiling, the curving womb of Esha. I wish to witness two bodies becoming one. You two are the only bodies present at the moment… Unless one of you would prefer to enact such ravishing things with me?” She grinned widely.

  Delyth’s anger was deep and cold, a frozen lake at the center of her chest. She had drunk blood, she had given blood, she had begged and bartered and sold much of her pride to please the Goddess.

  That night, she found a line she would not cross.

  She would not couple with Etienne, and she certainly would not touch Alphonse with the Goddess there.

  “You are an excellent hunter, Taouk,” she said with false levity. “Go find a rabbit warren and watch.”

  ❂

  Enyo’s eyes drifted to a wincing Etienne, his hand pressed to the center of his chest, just where her mark would have been. “You feel the same, Mandi?” she asked. As if she cared for such things as feelings. Her tone was a warning. If they denied her. If they fought her on this...

  Etienne paled at the sudden return of Enyo’s attention. “Surely, there is something else you would like, Enyo?”

  Between them, Delyth just crossed her arms, her eyes like stone.

  “So you will not join each other, and you will not join me?” she clarified, though it was obviously unnecessary. Then she nodded slowly.

  “I will not eat tonight,” she announced, turning away from the two and resuming her studying of the tree. If they would not yield to her what was due, then she would simply make them pay. And the easiest way to do that was to control Alphonse, their sweet little pet, and bide her time until the opportunity struck.

  Enyo had been learning.

  If Alphonse was hungry and tired, it was easier for Enyo to take and maintain control.

  And then she’d make them bleed for this disobedience.

  She had learned from the very best how important obedience was, and she knew precisely which pressure points made people break. Yield. Succumb to her will. Her time in the Cursed Realms hadn’t been a complete waste. She knew how to gain control of weaker beings. She would not be bending to their whims. Never again would she yield.

  ✶

  Etienne looked uneasily at Delyth after Enyo’s pronouncement, but she surprised him by appearing unfazed. “Fine,” she said simply. “But, you picked a poor night for it.”

  The warrior strolled back over to the fire and lifted the pot from the flames. “I used almost twice the usual amount of meat and added herbs from my mountain village, the last I’d carried with me. When was the last time you tasted the fruits of a Brig’ian valley?”

  She sat eagerly and poured herself a bowl of stew, raising it to inhale its fragrant steam.

  It looked as if Enyo might toss the contents of Delyth’s bowl, boiling hot as they were, into her face, but then the Goddess shrugged and headed towards her tent. Clearly, she was going to ignore her mortal companions.

  The fire crackled, and the sun fully set. All the birds and daytime animals settled down for the night. And it was just Etienne and Delyth at the fire. Their cheerful friend long gone.

  For several minutes, Etienne and Delyth ate. Delyth had been right, the stew was unusually good, but the scholar had quickly lost his appetite for her heavy-handed acting. Even after Enyo had abandoned the fire, she had loudly proclaimed the excellencies of her cooking and prodded Etienne to do the same.

  Now though, with Enyo still refusing to reemerge, they had both fallen silent.

  Etienne ate slowly so as to keep his hands and mouth busy. He did not particularly want to speak to Delyth, not after Enyo’s latest scene. Still, he was filled with questions.

  How in every hell was sex worse than drinking blood? It baffled him that the warrior had been willing to do one but not the other. Not that he particularly wanted to have sex with her either.

  Still, it didn’t make sense.

  Finally, Etienne looked up to where Delyth sat, determinedly not looking at him. He had to know. Enyo might command them again.

  “Why,” he started finally, “was this the thing you wouldn’t do?” The implication was clear. She had proven she was willing to go to extreme lengths. “I mean, I understand not touching Alphonse. She isn’t in control of her body. But if— if you and I… to get Alphonse back…”

  Etienne trailed away at the end. Delyth still wasn’t looking at him. Gods, she could do a stellar impersonation of the statues ringing Moxous.

  The warrior started to open her mouth to respond, then closed it again, and Etienne found himself wondering if he’d actually get a real answer.

  But no.

  She looked him dead in the eye and said, “I suppose we all have our limits.” Then she spread her wings and surged into the air.

  Left with nothing but the cr
ackle of flames for company, Etienne’s thoughts leaped from guilt to anger.

  Who was Delyth to act so morally superior? He was just trying to protect Alphonse, even if it meant indulging Enyo’s baser desires. Besides, flying away was no reasonable means of dealing with any sort of conflict. Was she so poor at expressing herself that she could only resort to leaving?

  Flying away while Enyo held Alphonse in thrall wasn’t helpful either. Enyo could do anything. Try to make him do anything.

  She was a Goddess, after all.

  Not that Delyth could do much against her either. Except, perhaps, piss Enyo off more by blatantly refusing her commands. She was just as helpless as he. Maybe more so.

  Because Etienne had magic. More powerful than simple guard runes.

  A slow smile spread across his face. He would show Enyo and Delyth alike that he was perfectly capable of finding a means to protect Alphonse. He would just need a way to contain the Goddess. Nothing even terribly difficult…

  Eagerly, Etienne reached for his bags and began to arrange the necessary ingredients. Iron shavings, perhaps. And clay. He etched them into the dirt at his feet, sweating in concentration. The incantation for her confinement would take some thought…

  Perhaps Enyo grew bored pouting in her tent, or the sounds of Etienne preparing his spell intrigued her, but the Goddess finally made an appearance just as Etienne was putting the finishing touches to his containment spell.

  The ingredients were common enough, elemental runes made of spilled sand.

  Enyo’s gaze flickered over the runes and the crushed herbs, and her lips drew back in a distasteful pucker. “You are making a mess for nothing, mage. These spells are weak. Too complicated to succeed. That was always the downfall of Ingolan magic. Needlessly convoluted and annoyingly frail.” Her voice was chiding as Enyo reached to brush away a line of sand. Just one swipe of her hand and the entire ritual would be ruined. “Not like blood, which can’t so easily be erased. Blood remembers.”

  Etienne curled his lip in distaste for her savage magic. The masters of magic thought little of the use of blood in the Wildlands. It was vulgar. Unrefined.

  He could do so much more with just a few simple ingredients, runes, and words. It did take some time to prepare, of course.

  But the effects were so much greater.

  Etienne didn’t bother to answer her, instead standing to his full height and turning an icy stare towards the Goddess residing within his best friend’s body. He raised an arm in her direction and then said four sharp, foul-tasting words in one of the old languages.

  At first, nothing seemed to happen, but Etienne had felt the rush of magic, the surge of power. He smiled in triumph.

  ❂

  Enyo smirked at the stupid little mage when she felt a sharp tug in her belly. Frowning, she looked down, but nothing was there. “Ha! Your pathetic—” She gasped as the tug turned into a yank, and Enyo stumbled back a few feet. Something was squeezing her tight, yanking her back towards the tent. “You!” She lunged towards Etienne only to find herself unable to do so, tripping over her own feet as the same pulling source yanked her back to the tent.

  It appeared the humans of Ingola had gotten more adept at magic, more refined. Whatever spell he had cast was surely forcing her back towards the tent and confinement, and the Goddess couldn’t think of a single way to stop it from happening.

  Not in this feeble body.

  She had underestimated the mage, feeling the compulsion to return to the tent change into something painful and burning. She had to comply. Enyo clenched her fists, nails into the meat of her palms. Not again. She would not be controlled. Never again.

  A sharp pain laced through her mind. “You reeking piece of filth!” She spat out the insults, closing her eyes against the onslaught of daggers in her skull.

  Still, she fought against the unstoppable force, gritting her teeth and digging in her heels. Her progress slowed but did not cease. His spell would shove her back into the canvas tent and safely away from him.

  “I’ll rip out your throat! I’ll bathe in your blood and wear your entrails as a crown. How dare you place your foul wretched—” And the tent flaps closed before her, blocking the mage from view.

  ✶

  If she tried to rip out his throat, Etienne would just bind her again. He’d proven that she could be controlled by his magic, and he would not have to be put in the same sort of terrible position as the meadow or that very evening again.

  Goddess?

  Hmph. She was nothing to the abilities of a highly trained Ingolan Mage.

  Before Etienne’s eyes, the fire had slowly faded from a happy roar to a few flickering coals. It was cold out, the moon new and dark. Only a scattering of half-hidden stars provided any light.

  Delyth still hadn’t come back yet, but now, Etienne was perversely eager for her to arrive. Let her see what he had done. Enyo was safely in the tent, and no blood had been spilled or consumed.

  Whatever Enyo had been doing in the hours after her initial fit of rage, had been, for the most part, silent. But now, a muffled moan escaped the confines of the tent before Alphonse stumbled out.

  She looked rougher than usual as if she had fought tooth and nail to regain control of her body. Her eyes were wide and hollow, her skin flushed, nearly feverish. Her gait was unsteady, as if Enyo was fighting her even now, yanking on the reins of Alphonse’s mind. Etienne felt a pang of guilt at her obvious exhaustion but shoved it down. This just meant the spell would need to be tweaked to lessen the aftereffects.

  “Any injuries for me to heal?” she asked, stumbling to the fire. It was easy to see the desperation in her face. Desperation that had been gone for two blessed days.

  “Alphonse!” he said, perking up. “No, there is nothing to heal. You’ll never guess—”

  Alphonse’s stomach growled loudly, interrupting him, her face pink. It was clear that she was starving. He supposed his news could wait until his friend was fed. He stood and went to rummage through their packs, digging out a few strips of dried meat and fruit. “Here, eat something.”

  She took the jerky and fruit leather and sighed. “Do you think Enyo thinks I am too plump?” she asked, as she started to chew on the hard, stale jerky. After several minutes of chewing the cumbersome supper, she spoke again, her tone uncomfortable. “Did… did I say something to make Delyth flee?”

  “No,” Etienne said with a sigh. “She didn’t tell me why she was going.”

  That was true enough. He didn’t want to lie to Alphonse, but he also knew that any hint of what Enyo had tried to pull this time would only make her feel guilty and awkward. He knew he did. Something about Delyth’s reaction made him feel dirty for suggesting anything less than her stiff denial.

  Still, he couldn’t help but think she had overreacted.

  Above them, the sound of leather on wind was audible in the distance. It seemed as though Delyth was returning. “Hear that?” Etienne asked. “She’ll be back in moments.”

  And then he could tell them both what he had done. How he had bound Enyo and sent her away. They would have to be pleased.

  Alphonse stood tentatively when the warrior landed near the edge of camp. “Delyth. I am very sorry for… whatever I did,” she said, wincing as she turned to look at Etienne, including him in the apology as well. The slight movement seemed to cause her pain.

  Enyo was in a foul temper tonight...

  And he had likely not helped her mood…

  ❀

  The warrior laid a calloused palm briefly against Alphonse’s cheek. “You did nothing wrong, bykhan.”

  “Do you need something for pain?” Etienne asked.

  Delyth winced a little guiltily. “I can get your medicine kit if it will help.”

  Immediately Alphonse was shaking her head. She hadn’t told Etienne or Delyth, but she kept the herbs for pain reduction just for them. It only seemed right that they should have such relief available, should one be injured or aching while E
nyo was around.

  “No. No, I’m fine…” She swallowed the lie, feeling terrible for saying it.

  Turning, she led Delyth back to the coals of the fire. Her dry dinner of jerky and fruit roiling in her stomach.

  “What did she want this time?” she asked, just needing some semblance of normalcy.

  “It was much of the same. Tribute, worship, adoration. She spent a while talking about a tree.” Delyth spoke a bit too quickly, but Etienne was nodding as well.

  “I would feel better if you took something,” he said sincerely. “You’re looking a little drawn, Alphonse.”

  On the other side of the fire, Delyth settled herself next to the healer, wings folded along her back.

  “Really. I’m feeling much better.” When Alphonse bit on her lower lip, it was a sure sign of lying. She tried her best not to do it now, though it seemed she was chewing on the inside of her cheek to keep the habit in check.

  “Maybe you should just do what she wants? So you don’t have to fight her.” Alphonse worried they would get hurt, arguing with Enyo. After all, she had broken Etienne’s finger when he had blocked her path…

  “What if she hurts you because you won’t do what she wants? I mean, if I have to throw up raw animal again… It’s not that terrible.”

  It had been pretty terrible.

  But maybe she could spare her friends Enyo’s wrath?

  Etienne looked supremely pleased with himself despite the dark topic. “I don’t think we’ll have to worry about that anymore.” He paused as though for effect. “Tonight, I discovered how to contain Enyo. I kept her in the tent until Alphonse returned, so neither of you have to worry.”

  Alphonse stared at Etienne as the weight in her heart throbbed. A lance of pain shot behind her eyes, and the healer closed them. Enyo was growling and thrashing around back there, and now she knew why. Etienne had chained her and set off the Goddess’s temper. She supposed she should be grateful that Etienne could lock the Goddess up if he needed to, but Alphonse was paying the price now.