Voidhawk

by Halstead, Jason

  He nodded, feeling he had put the final nail in the coffin to explaining how Jarnella had been so wonderfully arousing. This woman, or thing, in front of him was very much the same. The difference being that she insisted that she belonged to him.

  “What sort of loyalty do you feel you owe me?” Dexter asked, wondering just how dangerous she and others like her truly were.

  “I do not understand, Captain. I am your servant. Anything you bid me do I will do.”

  “Anything?” Dexter asked, rhetorically.

  “Yes, what would you like of me, Captain?” She said, not understanding that his question was for his own benefit.

  “No, I mean… well, I don’t know what I mean,” Dexter said, then stared up at the stars passing slowly over the ships deck. “Keshira, you are a beautiful…thing. I want to call you a woman but I cannot if it is true that you are not human or even alive. Do you need to eat or drink or breathe?”

  “Yes, Captain, I must do all of those things,” she responded. “My body is resilient but it can be damaged and it will heal. It is alive, Captain, so I do not understand why you say that I am not. Touch me, Sir, and you will find that I am warm and very much alive.”

  Dexter was tempted to touch her, but he just smiled regretfully instead. “Thank you, Keshira, but I will never take something not freely given.”

  “I do not understand, Captain. I am yours. I give myself to you at any and all times in any way that you would have me.”

  Dexter cursed. “That’s not what I mean. Aye, you’re alive, but you’ve no soul, no spirit, you said yourself you exist to serve me. That’s not giving, lass, that’s taking.”

  “I do not understand,” she said, standing tall and beautiful on the deck in front of him and looking serenely at him.

  Dexter nodded sadly. “I know, that’s the problem. All I’m wanting of you is that you know who you are and why you want what you do. I want you to have your own wants, your own desires, your own goals.” He sighed and looked at her. “I’m wanting you to be your own person, owned not by me nor any other man nor woman.”

  Dexter was amazed when he saw a sad expression cross Keshira’s face. “I… I am sorry, Captain. I cannot do that. You are my Master, it can only be undone if I cease to exist.”

  Dexter was sorely tempted to take the girl in his arms, but he refrained, knowing it would do neither of them any good. “Is your sadness real, or just how you’ve been made to feel?”

  “I do not understand, Captain.”

  Dexter sighed and waved his hand dismissively. “No matter,” he said. In truth it was, but then again, could he say that his emotions were any less real because he, too, had been made to feel them simply by being human.

  “It may be no concern to you, Keshira, but I promise you that I’ll do what I can to see you set free to live a full life. The wizard that made you will answer to me or I’ll die trying.”

  Keshira smiled. “Captain, I do not understand why you would do such a thing, I belong to you.”

  Dexter chuckled. “That’s okay, Keshira, I’m for hoping that one day you’ll know.”

  “If that pleases you, I shall try to understand, Captain,” she said, bowing obediently to him.

  “Go ahead back to work,” Dexter said, dismissing her. Smiling happily at having a task from him, she returned to her place working on the decking.

  Dexter watched her work for a while, thinking about her plight, or his plight, as he considered it, and wondered what Port Freedom would bring. He turned back around in time to feel the ship decelerating out of cruising speed. There, ahead some distance, loomed the moon sized planetoid that Port Freedom called home. Dexter took a deep breath and headed to his cabin to ready himself for what was sure to be an eventful confrontation.

  * * * *

  Kragor and Jodyne stayed at the ship, keeping it ready to go just in case a hasty departure was necessary. All manner of ideas passed through Dexter’s mind, but he really had no plan for how it was going to work out.

  Keshira trailed along behind him and Rosh walked beside her armed for war with multiple weapons and even a chain shirt over his leather sleeves and leggings. Bekka trailed behind them, watching everything with a keen eye.

  Jenna was along for the walk as well, making it officially the most time she had spent with Dexter since Keshira had joined them. She took up the rear guard of their small procession, also wearing her full battle garb.

  “This could sour fast,” Dexter said after he came to a stop a block away from the wizard’s large house. “Anyone that’s not for wanting the risk can go back to the ‘Hawk right now.”

  Nobody spoke up or moved to leave, filling Dexter with a sense of pride at his crew. “Alright, Kragor gets the ‘Hawk if I go down, so treat him right.”

  A few of them shuffled uneasily. They were not bothered by the thought of answering to the dwarf as Captain, but rather the thought of surviving an encounter that he fell in sat poorly with them.

  Dexter turned and resumed his march, with the rest of them falling in behind him.

  They were greeted at the door by Jarnella. She beamed at Dexter happily, then saw Keshira standing behind him and her expression darkened somewhat. “My Master will be displeased to see her return,” she said.

  “About that,” Dexter said. “It was unavoidable. I’d like for him to break the bond she made so we can done with this.”

  “There is no breaking the bond. She is made to be a servant for life,” Jarnella explained, turning and beckoning them inside the house.

  They followed her in, each looking about nervously in case of a trap. Only Keshira seemed at ease as they moved through a foyer, then down a hallway and through a sitting room. Jarnella opened the doors to a large study, where Ormitor sat waiting in a plush chair.

  “Have you any idea what you have done?” he asked, his tone one of irritation.

  “I know only that I damn near lost my ship, my crew, and my freedom carrying your ‘product’.” As soon as the words left his mouth he realized he may have been a bit too aggressive.

  “I want no part of your gold or business,” he continued, softening his tone slightly. “Undo this bond she speaks of and free her, then we may go our separate ways.”

  Ormitor rose up and walked over to them. He looked at Keshira with a critical eye, noting everything from her posture, her look, and the same blue dress she had risen from the crate in. “The manufacturing and ensorceling of a pleasure golem is no simple task. The materials alone are far beyond your ability to comprehend!”

  “Good thing I’m not for wanting her then,” Dexter said. “Undo this thing and we’ll be done with it.”

  “There is no undoing it, you fool!” Ormitor snapped. “And now you’ve defaulted my agreement with Sir Drayful as well! You’ve no idea how much you have cost me!”

  Dexter took a deep breath as Ormitor vented at him. He could practically feel Rosh tensing and fighting the urge to explode behind him. It only made him wonder how Jenna, who seemed especially incensed at the ‘pleasure golems’, was handling herself.

  “No undoing it? Then what does she cost. I’ve no want of a slave, but I’ll accept the cost of ruining her for you,” he said, trying to mollify the wizard.

  Ormitor laughed. “You fool, the cost is more than you will ever see in your life! She is worth hundreds of thousands of gold!”

  Dexter cringed at the mere thought of that much money. While he hoped it would be otherwise, he could only silently agree with Ormitor that he would most likely never see that much wealth in his life.

  “Why is she different from Jarnella,” Bekka asked abruptly, stepping out and throwing back the hood of her cloak.

  Ormitor looked at her briefly, then dismissed her, turning his angry gaze back to Dexter. He opened his mouth buy again Bekka persisted.

  “She is a brilliant creation, truly a work of art,” she said, praising her inventor. “Yet she does not have the personality that Jarnella does. Is each one designed for t
he owner?”

  Pleased at having his work acknowledged and appreciated, Ormitor was taken aback. Grudgingly, he deigned to answer her question. “Each is unique, yes, tailored to the requirements of the purchaser. They learn quickly, Jarnella was not my first but she is my favorite. The personality of which you speak surfaces differently for each. Some are slow, some are fast. It has something to do with the strength of the soul used to animate them.”

  “The soul used to… What type of monster are you?” Jenna asked, stepping out as well.

  Dexter held out his hand, attempting to stall her and hold her back. Barely, she reigned in her anger and remained behind him.

  “Monster? Hardly. I take a broken soul, shorn from its body and life, and give it a fresh chance at happiness in a new form. A form that is well nigh indestructible! These are not monstrosities, these are pieces of art!” Spittle flew from Ormitor’s mouth as he raved about his creations.

  “These creations, they are bound to their owners forever? How do they survive when their owners die?” Bekka asked, desperately wanting to understand more of the mechanics behind the magic.

  “Some persist, miserable and lonely,” he said, still proud of his creations, or rather, proud of his abilities in creating them. “A rare few find meaning to their existence, though they forever feel the longing for their master. Others perish, seeking out a means to their own destruction to end their misery.”

  “So Keshira is stuck with me forever?” Dexter asked, feeling the room suddenly growing smaller around him.

  “I trust you have no means of paying for her?”

  Dexter shook his head and angrily said. “No means and no interest in purchasing such a thing!”

  “I would have offered you a contract of service to pay off your debt, but I think you would find no appeal to that either?” Ormitor asked, walking a short distance away from them and putting Jarnella between them.

  Dexter shook his head again. He heard Rosh inhale behind him and saw the man open his mouth to say something. The look Dexter gave him made the larger man close his mouth.

  “Then I’m afraid her suffering will be short lived, for with your death I will have her destroyed as well,” he said matter-of-factly. “Your ship will be put to good use and repay some of your debt, I think. The rest I will accept in the service of your souls in my future creations!”

  “Well now that just won’t do,” Dexter said, hearing the blades of his crew being drawn behind him.

  Rosh charged forward, ignoring the unarmed Jarnella to his error. She lashed out at him, her arm crashing into his chest below the arms that brandished his great sword. Rosh flew backwards, his feet moving forward while his upper body was driven to the ground.

  Jenna slipped past Jarnella, moving with a grace and speed that she had not displayed even when fighting Dexter in mock battles. She lunged forward with her rapier holding her short sword up in a guard position. Jenna grunted when the sword hit the wizard, for it barely plunged into his skin. She felt as though she had stabbed a tree trunk.

  From behind her Jarnella landed a glancing blow to her shoulder with her fist, sending her stumbling to the side and making her trip over a plush chair.

  Dexter intended to give Jarnella a fight, as she was closer, but he suspected that Ormitor was the key to success in the conflict. He slipped behind the beautiful construct’s back as she sent Jenna sprawling. He nearly abandoned his target to go after Jenna, but knew better than to lose what may end up being their only chance.

  Ormitor was incanting a spell, his eyes rolled back in his head as he drew on magics powerful enough to cause the hair on Dexter’s skin to raise due to his proximity. Dexter swung his long sword as hard as he could; having seen how Jenna’s thrust had been thwarted, and was rewarded with three of Ormitor’s fingers falling to the ground, as well as half of his left hand. For Dexter’s part, his arm tingled with the vibrations running through it from the resistance to the strike.

  Ormitor’s arcane uttering twisted into a howl of rage. His eyes focused on Dexter and the building magical energies surrounding him flared into electrical arcs the ran across his body and dissipated into the ground at his feet, though not without leaving him smoking and scorched from their passing.

  It was Dexter’s turn to go crashing into a table, propelled there by a blow from behind that snapped his head back and made the air explode from his lungs. He lay stunned on the floor, blood running down his face from where his forehead had crashed into the solid wooden table.

  Through blurred vision, he saw Jarnella moving towards him, her expression deadly serious. Dexter tried to move but found he had trouble focusing, he just knew that death stalked him in the form of a beautiful woman. Behind Jarnella Keshira sprung into action, rushing towards Jarnella and crashing into her.

  Bekka, even further back, had rushed over to Rosh and was checking him to see how he faired. He was sitting back up and shaking his head, then spitting out something that had more than a hint of red to it.

  Dexter turned his head, still wondering why everyone looked as fuzzy as they did, and beheld Jenna’s short sword slicing across Ormitor’s side. Instead of entrails and blood, only a tatter of cloth from his expensive clothing fell to the floor. She ducked under a swing from the arm that wielded the partially severed hand and tried stabbing into his leg, which proved to also be all but futile.

  Dexter rose woodenly from the floor, feeling his sense of balance skewed and his body unnaturally limber. There was no pain in his back or neck, though he suspected there should be. Even more interesting was how muffled the noises sounded, from grunts of exertion and pain to the crashing of the two pleasure golems wrestling on the floor.

  Rosh climbed to his feet and grimaced in pain. He shook it off and advanced on Ormitor, who saw him coming in spite of trying to squash Jenna like a bug. He accepted a hit from Jenna and stretched out his left hand, which possessed the shortened first three fingers. He spat out a sharp stream of words and a dark beam of magical energy that Rosh caught on the tip of his sword.

  He held the blade up defensively, hoping to block the nefarious looking energy that swarmed up it. The blade grew heavier as he held it, making him curse and begin to lose the fight against holding it up. With a grunt of final exertion, he threw the sword to the side and dove to the other side.

  Dexter swung his sword from behind at Ormitor, hacking against the wizard’s leg in an attempt to hamstring him. His sword felt as though it tried to chew through a bale of tightly packed hay, so little damage did he do. Ormitor turn and swung his arm, sending the captain of the Voidhawk reeling backwards to avoid the dangerous blow.

  Jenna distracted him again, digging a furrow along his neck with her rapier that should have thrust a gaping hole clean through him. They could see some blood in the scratch, but it did not run as experience told them all it should. He turned back to her, whipping his arm across and capturing her rapier in it before she could recover it from the thrust. His incredible strength sent the weapon clattering to the rug covered hardwood floor, knocking her off balance.

  Jenna thrust her short sword up into Ormitor’s ribs, a killing blow for any mortal. The sword was halted by whatever wizardry he had ensorcelled his flesh with. His hand, partially severed though it was, used the still attached first and second finger to grab her by the tunic, easily lifting her light elven frame from the floor and causing her to drop her short sword from the abruptness of the movement.

  Dexter tried to attack, but Ormitor spun rapidly, keeping his struggling hostage between them. “You fools, you cannot kill me! My body is stronger even than my those of my children! Your souls will yet be mine!”

  Dexter was in no mood to talk. Even the very air in the room smelled funny to him and colored spots came and went in his vision. Nevertheless, he continued to threaten the wizard, looking for an opening and, if nothing else, keeping the wizard busy.

  Rosh crawled behind the wizard, pulling a hand axe free from his belt. He raised it back, st
ruggling to make certain that he kept his grip on the slightly oversized hatchet. Ormitor grunted as Rosh’s sharpened axe blade drove him into his ankle. The strength the man was able to employ broke the skin, severed muscle and tendon, and even managed to shatter the bone.

  His support structure ruined, Ormitor dropped forward to one knee. Jenna gasped as he managed to maintain his hold on her leather cuirass, jerking her ruthlessly as he nearly fell to the floor.

  He spun around enough to backhand Rosh across the face. The lack of proper leverage and support caused the blow to do little more than force the large man to roll twice away from him and then lay stunned.

  Bekka stood nearby, out of the range of the dangerous combat but ready to offer what help she could. She darted over to where Rosh’s axe lay unclaimed on the floor several feet from him. She picked it up and advanced, her center of balance low and her body poised to dodge.

  “You’d have made good slaves,” Ormitor spat out at Dexter while he also kept an eye on Bekka as she approached. “But now I’m going to kill you all slowly, and then the real torture will begin!”

  He held up his stubby fingered hand and opened his mouth to begin a new spell. Jenna drew a dagger from her thigh and rammed it upwards, though not into the wizard’s unnatural body. Instead she used it to slice through her armor, cutting through it and forcing the wizard to drop her as she rotated and plummeted in an uncontrolled plunge to the floor. She gasped when she hit and rolled away, her cuirass falling free.

  Suddenly given an angle of attack, Dexter drew his pistol and fired in a single smooth motion. Ormitor’s head snapped back from the thunderous lead ball that smashed into his cheek. Bekka jump in to attack as well, hacking with Rosh’s axe at his shoulder, which struck true but did little damage.