by Jeff Gunzel
That and her two front teeth made of shiny silver had always made her stand out a bit. Of course, she had always been short, but lost her front teeth playing roughly as a child and had to have them replaced. She had always been an unruly child, and that temperament seemed to follow her still.
Her wild black braids filled with red, white, and black beads flared out in all directions and rattled noisily with even the slightest movement. Two customized half- moon short-swords rested in black leather sheaths fastened tightly across her back. They seemed almost ceremonial, given the red and yellow jewels encrusted within the hilts, but neither of these thick blades was for show, as she had proven to others before. Many would no doubt agree with the assessment—if they were still around.
She often went down to the arena to work out with the soldiers, teaching them a thing or two before returning to the keep. Training with the men was something she loved to do whenever she found time. Despite their completely different appearances in demeanor and stature, it had always been unclear as to whether Athel or Grandling was the bigger combat threat. Whatever the difference, a rodent would surely starve on it.
Corzon often entertained small gatherings with the local merchants. It was not unusual at all to have six or seven here in the dining hall so they could all discuss local business and what could be done to improve profits. Even though Dronin was certainly one of the largest cities in Tarmerria, the barbarian city was completely dependent on foreign coin, so constant gatherings with the local merchants were imperative to making sure things ran smoothly and profitably. However, Corzon didn’t appear to be himself this day. He seemed non-talkative and distracted as he tore through his meal, hardly even acknowledging his guests.
One of the serving girls leaned into Corzon’s ear and muttered something while she topped off his silver goblet, which certainly didn’t need more than a drop or two. A devilish smile slowly split his face as she spoke, just before he pulled her onto his lap and kissed her deeply with his mouth still plenty full. She did her best not to look disgusted as she scrambled back to her feet, forcing a smile with great effort as she wiped grease from around her mouth with the back of her hand, then scurried out of the room at a much faster pace than she had entered.
“My friends, the entertainment is finally ready,” said Corzon as he rubbed his hands together vigorously. “This is a special little surprise I have been saving for just the right occasion. Send them in,” he shouted as he stood from his chair and stretched an open hand towards the entrance.
“Oh, what an honor this is. I can’t wait to see what his excellence has planned for us this evening.” gushed the balding, flabby man to his left as his multiple chins shook with excitement. His permanently red-tipped nose matched the bright, foreign wool coat he had bartered for years ago. Serving maids began to put out some of the oil lamps to darken the room a bit. The mood was to be just right for this special treat.
Three scantily clad women entered the dimly lit room, followed by a handful of musicians who scurried into the corner quickly with their heads held low, knowing full well they were hardly the main attraction here. The girls’ outfits were identical except for their colors: one green, one blue, and the lead girl wore yellow.
Each had loose-fitting pants made from a thin, nearly transparent, silky material. Bare feet displayed painted toes that matched their fingernails, all the same color as their apparel. Exposed bellies revealed rigid, hard stomach muscles covered by tight dark skin. Undersized velvet vests with two small golden cords across the open front were the only things barely keeping their breasts contained. Veils of the same transparent material were strung across each one’s face, leaving only fluttering eyes with long, dark eyelashes exposed. Each one’s dark hair was tied back by a ribbon of matching color, revealing large, gold hoop earrings that swung about as they slinked up toward the table.
The low, deep, steady thumping of a drumbeat began to fill the air, followed shortly by a duo of fluttering flutes as they chirped away in perfect harmony. When the lute player added his contribution to the hypnotizing melody, the girls began to pulse their hips in perfect time while fluttering their fingers in the air to one side, then the other.
Each pulse brought them one step closer to the table, where the men had all but forgotten about the food as they swayed back and forth in their seats, like snakes being charmed. Each girl reached over the table to the man seated before them and shoved a finger deep into his mouth. One became three, then four, as they methodically worked the inside of the merchants’ mouths, while not a single protest was voiced for the vulgar act. Withdrawing their moist hands, they traced invisible lines down each man’s chest before resting them on their groins, finally giving a firm squeeze.
Each man jolted forward with a slight whimper before the girls backed off as quickly as they had come on, quickly returning to the hypnotizing dance. Thin veils did little to hide their amused smiles as they turned slowly in circles with one hand dropped to their side, the other reaching for the ceiling as their hips pulsed angrily. At various points of the dance, each would lean far back into impossible back bends, with the tops of their heads mere inches from the floor, before snapping back up and continuing on with the seductive dance. It seemed they had to be tied to strings to get that low without falling over.
As each began twirling in tight circles high on their toes, colored ribbons seemed to sprout from the living tornadoes, flaring out into colorful spirals. They came to a sudden stop and began a much slower twirl in the other direction, now spiraling the long, matching silk ribbons around their bodies with the perfect speed so they stayed just inches off the floor while encircling the girls several times. The exotic dance carried on for some time as they twirled and pranced around the room, all the while waiting for the nod from Corzon, which finally came in the form a subtle eye gesture to his left.
The three vixens moved in perfect unison, like reflections in a mirror, as they twirled gracefully towards the fat merchant, who seemed to be getting more excited by the second. He shook his chins inadvertently as his open hands lightly smacked the table in time to the music, wondering just what moral limitations had been placed on these lovely creatures.
All the unsavory thoughts of an upcoming treat flooded from his mind as the lead girl, wrapped in a skimpy yellow outfit, took flight in an impossible leap clear over the table. The merchant’s mind couldn’t wrap itself around the chaos as two daggers soared right past her hips while she was still in the air, clearly thrown by the other two.
The impending scream due to white-hot pain surging through each shoulder never presented itself, as the heavy kick drove all the remaining air from his lungs, toppling the poor man straight backwards. As he gasped for precious air that simply wouldn’t come, he became only partly aware of his current situation. The skilled assassin in yellow kneeled heavily on his chest with two daggers crossed over his throat, simply daring him to move. Although completely unnecessary, the other two had arrived only a second later and had both the man’s shoulders pinned to the back of his toppled chair.
There he lay gasping for air as his shoulders burned and throbbed with perfectly placed daggers protruding from each. His shirt began to dampen and turn dark with fresh blood. Corzon slowly walked to the scene and stood over the helpless man while wearing an unreadable expression. He looked neither happy nor angry as he hovered over the cursed man, still gnawing away at a meatless bone that simply had nothing else to give.
“Why?” cried the fat merchant in a weak, pleading voice. “What did I do to deserve—”
“You dare ask me such a stupid question!” Corzon growled as he kicked the man hard in his side. He continued talking right over the man’s wails. “You came groveling to me when you couldn’t pay the set taxes on your sales last month, saying you needed a little more time.”
Corzon seemed rather relaxed all of a sudden, finally dropping the meatless bone to the floor. He locked his fingers behind his head while looking at the other two me
rchants. One had climbed under the table, while the other buried his face deep in his knees, rocking back and forth in complete denial of what was happening. “Don’t worry, you two,” he said to them it a shockingly calm voice. “I didn’t bring you here to kill you. You must bear witness to what you’ve seen. Bear witness to this…this cheat! Tell the other merchants what happens when the fair, owed taxes are not produced.”
“And you,” he said as he returned his attention to the fallen man once again, “have been given all the time I’m willing to give.” He raised his eyes slightly, looking to the girls, who had kept their hardly dangerous prey pinned the entire time. “You know what to do,” he commanded in an unnervingly emotionless voice as he turned back towards the table.
Fire shot through the merchant’s shoulders as the girls dragged him by his arms across the thinly carpeted stone floor and straight out the door. Corzon sank back down into his chair and began to stretch hard, as if nothing had even happened. He turned to the other two merchants, gesturing for the first to crawl back up from under the table, then smiled warmly at both of them.
“Eat. Don’t be shy,” he said in a simply cheerful tone. “You see, I like both of you. You two have nothing to worry about, since you paid me on time, of course.” The two merchants rattled their heads up and down in urgent agreement, not daring to speak a word. “The only thing I want you two to do is let our other business associates know what you saw here today.” Corzon slowly turned away from the merchants and seemed to speak into the air, rather than to either of them. “I will not be made a fool of.”
He glanced behind him to get a little reassurance from his daughter, but saw that Grandling was the only presence still leaning against the banner. He might have been a statue, considering it seemed he hadn’t moved at all. Now where did that girl run off to?
Chapter 2
The man screamed out as his legs thumped over and over again all the way down the winding wooden stairway. The combination of pure terror mixed with searing pain shooting through his shoulders was more than the soft man had ever been forced to endure. Dragged like a sack of potatoes, he was powerless against the iron grips crushing his wrists. Pulling him along presented all the challenge of towing a mere child across ice. Even without his injuries, he would have posed no real threat to these killers.
When his legs bounced off the last step, the ride continued across a dusty, dark, wooden floor. On he traveled through a narrow stone hallway lit by flickering torches instead of the usual oil lamps. Because the floor was poorly sanded and ridged from age, numerous tiny splinters dug into him quickly. Still filled with terror, even though quick panting had now replaced his screams, he never even noticed his legs being jabbed by the tiny wooden slivers.
Stopping briefly before a thick wooden door, the girl in yellow shouldered it open before dragging him inside. “Stop...please!” he begged as they stood him up flat against the white, painted stone wall. Iron cuffs hung from thick black chains screwed directly into the stone wall. The merchant winced as his arms were raised aggressively, inhaling sharply through his teeth, making a slight whistling. “I’ll pay you anything. I’ll double what he offered you...I swear!” the poor man pleaded as the metal cuffs were snapped tightly onto his wrists. His shirt was torn off in ribbons as his shameless groveling continued.
“If you had the capital or assets to make good on your bribe, you wouldn’t be here right now, would you?” hissed the girl in green as she brought her face within an inch of his. Cold murder flashed in her brilliant blue eyes. She held his terrified gaze a long moment before sidestepping to reveal the girl in blue holding a wooden bucket she seemed to have pulled from thin air.
She tipped it over him with without a moment’s pause. His horrified scream was choked off quickly as the sweet, thick goo filled his open mouth and covered most of his face and body. He coughed and spit while trying to blink, struggling to gain vision through the thick honey.
“Wha-What are you doing? Please,” he stuttered while continuing to spit periodically, shaking his head rapidly, as if that would somehow shed the clinging goo. When he had regained some degree of vision, he saw the girl in yellow once more. She stood in front of him holding yet another bucket, her expression blank and emotionless. She also showed no hesitation throwing its contents over the doomed merchant.
His renewed scream, filled with terror and anguish, echoed down the stone hall as thousands of aggressive red insects swarmed him. The girls turned to leave as he thrashed and screamed wildly against the searing pain. Flesh was quickly consumed as the tiny invaders gorged on their treat. The job was done, and there was no reason to stay and watch the inevitable. After all, it was just business.
* * *
Athel scurried down the narrow stone hall, paying little attention to the occasional guard pinning his back to the side wall to allow her unabated passage. She wasn’t interested in their feigned politeness or murmured apologies. More pressing matters urged her haste. The colored beads in her hair clicked angrily against one another like a rattlesnake poised to strike.
When she had seen the three Steel Maidens enter the dining hall, it was clear at least one of the merchants would die this day, but it was also to be viewed as a rare opportunity that needed to be capitalized on. Athel needed to use the precious minutes gifted to her by the death of a lowly merchant.
A bloodcurdling scream echoed off the walls and down the hall behind her—nothing that brought sorrow or pity to her heart cast of stone, but a simple reminder that time was running short. She nearly sprinted the final fifty feet or so, extending her arm out in a knocking pose long before she was in range of the thick, wooden door.
She began pounding the door incessantly the moment it met her fist, not stopping until a small wooden panel toward the top slid open with a snap. Surprised-looking dark eyes rolled in circles, searching for the obnoxious intrusion. The impatient throat-clearing guided his eyes downward before they seemed to double in size.
“Open this door. Now!” the short girl said firmly, with her arms now crossed impatiently.
“B-B-But my lady,” the man stammered nervously. “Your father has given strict orders to allow entrance to no one. Believe me, my lady...he was very clear on the matter.”
Her green eyes narrowed angrily as she hissed, “In the absence of my father, I hold full authority over all matters regarding the keep. This includes all residents of the keep, ranking or otherwise.” Her eyes narrowed even further as her voice grew dangerously low. “I will not ask you again.” It was now clear to him she had never really asked at all.
“One moment, my lady,” the guard sputtered in a rush as the sliding panel shut sharply with a snap. The thick door wavered back and forth as the man nervously fumbled with the wooden bolt on the other side before finally pulling it wide open. She rushed in, paying him no more attention as he leaped out of the way and froze in an awkward salute.
The man she had come to see hung there limply against the wooden wall, with his hands shackled in black iron cuffs. With one eye swollen shut and the other not far behind, he lifted his head in a frantic jerk to see who had just entered to bring him even more suffering. “Go,” the girl barked at the first man, who scampered from the room without needing any additional coaxing.
The lightly muscled man with long, jet-black hair bared his bloodstained teeth in a defiant grimace as Athel casually strolled in closer. The clanging of chains rang out as he lunged as far as they would allow, leaving his scowling face inches from hers. His dark eyes glistened with unshed tears, the tears of a desperate man who was at his wit’s end.
She met his scowl casually with a lopsided smile, then drove him back into the wall by his chin with her left hand while crossing his throat with her highly ornamented half- moon blade, which had suddenly appeared in her right. His scowl faded into shock, while her expression of amusement remained unchanged.
“I am not here to pursue what others have started,” she said while still holding the bl
ade tightly pressed to his throat. “That is, unless you lie to me. And believe me, I will know whether or not you are telling the truth. Lie to me once, and those will be the last words that ever escape your lips!” She finally released his chin with a shove and removed her blade before turning her back to him.
“I swear on my life that everything I told the others is true,” he said as a line of bloody drool hanging from his lip bounced off his chin with every word. “I should have lied. It would have been easier to believe than the truth ever would,” he mumbled as his head lowered and his voice tailed off.
“We’ll see about that,” she replied in an even tone as she moved in close to him again, focusing on the eye that still had some remaining function. “Remember, lie to me just once...” She allowed the threat to hang in the air for a moment.
Athel began to slowly pace back and forth in front of him, rotating her head evenly so as to never take her eyes from his. “You were sent to the Dead Forest with five men...five! Yet only you returned?” Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Tell me what happened.”
He took a deep breath and gazed up towards the ceiling. “I get beaten every time I do, as if that will somehow change the reality of what I saw.”
“You will die if you don’t,” she quickly replied, the lopsided smile returning—a smile that all but promised death.
“We were attacked!” he shouted, as if screaming the words would somehow make the story more believable. “The man was hiding behind a thick tree. We never even saw him until it was too late.”
“This would be the man who was gravely injured and covered in his own blood?” she asked mockingly while raising an eyebrow.
“Yes,” he said as he lowered his head in shame. “But he moved...he moved with the speed of a snake. Two of us were struck down before I could even blink. Then he threw that axe of his into the skull of Broden before picking up Argondy like a child and slamming him to the ground. And those eyes, those bright green eyes shone like some kind of beast from the underworld!”
