The Unexpected Demon

by Simon Waldock

  "Do you have books about demons?" Chessina asked.

  "Harmon had lots of books about lots of things and he left them to me in his will. He still had so much to teach me but now I have to make do with his books, spell books and journals," I replied. "He left me the tower too, and Chessina, the tower has many defences. It's very old, built long ago on a place of power and handed down from wizard to wizard."

  "Do you think it could stop hi . . . Fishface?" Chessina asked with a quiver in her voice.

  "If he is only as powerful as you think, probably," I mused. "Don't forget Chessina, Fishface has to be summoned to appear on a middle world. And to summon him would require a wizard of some power or, gods curse them, a much less powerful demonologist. When I was trying to summon a least demon I used a circle of protection and a summoning spell. A demonologist uses a summoning circle and attempts to overawe, bully, browbeat or cajole the demon to do what he wants with sheer force of personality. Or as I put it raw ego. Unfortunately, this means that a low ranked demonologist can do what it takes a much higher ranked wizard to do. Fortunately, this tends to mean that the egotistical morons that become demonologists sooner or later, and usually sooner, try to summon a demon far too powerful for them to control. The demon then kills them quickly, kills them slowly or eats their soul and takes it to the Abyss to play with."

  "Oh yes," said Chessina, "I know about them. The nearest translation of what they are called is 'useful idiots'."

  "Getting back to the hunters, Chessina," she gave me a look which said 'must we'. "If one of them fled, which we agree is likely, what do you think the others would do?"

  "They would run away too and find another to follow. Good trackers are always in demand," Chessina said.

  "Then Fishface would not be a happy bunny," I said.

  Chessina giggled. "I was just picturing a bunny with a fish's face."

  "Master," Chessina began, then stopped looking embarrassed and blushing fierily. Demons can blush? I never knew. Mind you, not that I could tell anybody, who's going to believe me?

  "Master, would it help if you had a piece of f . . . Fishface, as a, a material component?" Chessina asked diffidently.

  "Yes, definitely," I said. Such a thing always helps. "Do you have one?"

  "Yes, master." Chessina said, looking if possible more embarrassed. "When Fishface won me from my former mistress, he started clawing at me, just lightly to hurt and humiliate and when he was clawing at me . . . inside . . ."

  "By all the gods!" The phrase came out unbidden.

  "When he was doing that, I kicked him in the cods and ran; I think, I think there is a bit . . . bit of his claw still inside. Could you get it out please master? I can't reach it and it does hurt.” Poor girl, I know she is a demon, but still.

  "I'll get it out Chessina. I'll need to get some things." I said with more confidence than I felt. Now, I am not entirely ignorant of the female sex, although the demands of a wizardly education might rather restrict one's opportunities in that direction. But my knowledge of midwifery was almost nil. Time for some library work.

  I entered the library pausing, as I always did, to breathe in that wonderful scent of polished leather and aged parchment. It was my favourite room in the tower, and I had spent much time here, both alone and in my master's company. The books and scrolls never suffered from mould, mildew or insects while in the library.

  "Library," I spoke clearly and positively, "general information, midwifery." A tome eased its way off its shelf, floated slowly over to my usual reading stand and opened to a slightly glowing page. I started to read.

  No, I have no idea how the library does this, it seems almost sentient in its capabilities. I never got around to asking Harmon about it, it just was the way things worked.

  According to the book, as Chessina couldn't reach it on her own, I was going to need a speculum. I was certain that we didn't have one in the laboratory, not something my master had ever needed. I doubt if the local midwives or the nearby druidic priestess would lend me one to remove a piece of demon claw from a female demon's birth canal. At least not without a great many questions that I had no intention of answering. Still, I thought I knew what to use instead.

  I came back into the sitting room trying to look more confident than I felt. Give the patient confidence, the book said, so I was doing my best. Chessina was still there and turned to me with a look of trust on her face. Gods, she looked more confident in me than I was myself.

  "Chessina you need to go and change into a dressing gown, and I think a plain one would be best." I stated, somewhat didactically. "Then we'll need to go upstairs, the workroom is on the floor below the conjuring room."

  Chessina came out of her room dressed in a plain white dressing gown that still looked very fetching on her. When we got there I opened the door to the workroom and ushered Chessina inside. The workroom is a very bright place, the large windows let in a lot of light, and the room's surfaces are made of a white shiny substance on which dirt doesn't stick although the floor isn't slippery to walk on.

  "Chessina, please lie face up on the table in the centre of the room, on your back, and ah . . . please open your legs with your knees bent up." I managed to get out. It wasn't something one finds easy to say, in cold blood as it were.

  "Master, I thought you'd never ask." Chessina said with an impish (how very appropriate) grin. She sobered and continued, "I didn't suggest it as it would hurt with . . . that, there."

  "Tabren, I need you." I spoke clearly, obviously frightening Chessina. I cursed myself for stupidity.

  "Master, who, what?" Chessina said with a panicked look.

  "I'm sorry," I said apologetically, "I should have told you beforehand. Tabren is a kind of directable force that wizards call an invisible servant. He can do various simple tasks. He is tied to the workroom so I don't have to use a spell to summon one. I call Tabren, he as he is much more capable than a summoned servant. He seems to almost have a kind of personality. Just lie still."

  "Tabren," I said, "Pull open this young lady's, um, birth canal, gently, so I can see inside." I picked up a long pair of tweezers, cast a cantrip of illumination on the tip and turned to the table.

  Where I could see Chessina, all of Chessina, as she had opened her dressing gown. My gaze travelled down from her face which held a rather strained expression, over her small pert looking breasts, her flat belly, then between her spread legs to the small quantity of, neatly trimmed, dark hair and finally her opened . . . birth canal. And then her tail, which was twitching nervously. Professionalism Castamir, professionalism, I told myself, trying to ignore my profound physical reaction.

  As I got closer to Chessina's, ah, womanly parts, I became aware of a wonderfully heady scent. I had thought that my profound physical reaction couldn't get more profound; trust me, it could.

  I muttered a cantrip of cleansing and disease banishing on the tweezers as I approached. Yes, wizards do understand hygiene, that's one of the reasons we live longer than most people. Even with the light it was quite difficult to see inside Chessina. I probed as gently as I could with the tweezers.

  "Where is the pain?" I asked, desperately trying to ignore Chessina's scent.

  "A little deeper in and to my left." she replied.

  "I can see it!" I said.

  There it was, a nasty grey thing, just visible with inflamed tissue around it. I gripped the thing in the tweezers and pulled gently. It came away cleanly, leaving a hole and a little pus. After removing the claw sheath, I said, "Tabren, let go of the young lady and bring me a preserving jar. Then prepare a warm saline solution."

  "It's gone now Chessina," I reassured her. "How does it feel now?"

  "Much better, master. The stabbing pain is gone, and it's only a little sore," Chessina said.

  I put the sheath into the proffered jar and sealed it with a gesture. Filling a large syringe with Tabren's saline solution I proceeded to lave Chessina's inside while Tabren held a bowl for me. The sharp smell of th
e saline helped to counteract her scent and my reaction was, thankfully, starting to diminish.

  "The saline should help to deal with the soreness, there was only a little pus," I said, then continued. "Do demons suffer much from infection and disease?"

  "Not often, master. We usually heal quickly but with… that still in me, well it was a problem; but now you've cured me, master," she said looking brightly at me.

  I wondered how much of her attitude was genuine, and how much assumed to make a good impression. I didn't know. With the way it could affect me, I knew I had to be careful. Her oath would prevent her doing harm to me, but when did influence stop and harm begin?

  "I think you should sleep now, Chessina." Gods, listen to Castamir, sounding just like a pompous healer.

  "Demons don't sleep, master; but I think I will lie down and rest for a bit." Chessina suited actions to words and went towards her room with a very seductive walk. ‘How does she look so seductive in a simple dressing gown?’ I asked myself. Because she's a demon and some kind of a lesser succubus, you idiot! I answered myself. I need a cup of tea I concluded and went to get one.

  oOo

  Sometime later, I knocked on Chessina's door.

  "Yes, master?" her voice came through the door.

  "It's dinner time, I wondered if you would like to eat with me," I said. "And before you say, I read that demons can eat but don't need to. The dining room is next to the sitting room."

  "I'd like to very much. I'll be down in a minute, master," Chessina said.

  I'm afraid my mind wandered as I went down to wait in the dining room. I know demons don't need to eat, but if they do, do they need to defecate? I knew that Chessina had an anus, I was now familiar with most of her external and some of her internal anatomy. However, 'excuse me, is your anus functional or is it just decorative?' isn't the sort of question one can ask, at least I couldn't.

  Chessina appeared not long after the specified minute had passed. She was wearing something I recognised this time. It had been a favourite of Krissilla's and was surprisingly demure, not that it looked demure on Chessina since the high neck and long sleeves and close-fitting body of the white gown looked as though they had been painted on her. Like the red dress, it flowed into a wide skirt from hip level and swirled like a cloud. It occurred to me however, that when Krissilla wore it, the heavy lace had been over a silk gown underneath. Now the soft gleam under the lace was skin, not silk.

  Chessina's costume wasn't blatant however, the lace was thickest at certain strategically important regions. Still I was glad the robe I was wearing was loose, it was reaction time again.

  The invisible servants from the kitchen that had cooked the food could reach as far as the dining room to serve it. As the various courses were placed in front of Chessina, she ate with every sign of enjoyment and did so elegantly. Chessina did everything elegantly.

  "Do you like the food?" I asked.

  "Yes, very much, thank you master," Chessina replied. "Did you cook it?"

  "No, but I directed the kitchen servants," I said. "I can cook, but only indifferently, so I let the magical forces do the job. Besides, that gives me more time for studying."

  "I like cooking master, and I'm good at it too. Perhaps I could cook for you." Her expression fell, "Oh, I'm not sure that the things I cook would be good for you. The things that you call poison don't effect demons and some of the dishes you might find a little . . . exotic."

  "There are a number of cookery books in the library. Perhaps you might like to look at them and see what dishes you might like to cook," I said.

  "Thank you master," Chessina said.

  Chapter 3

  "I've been meaning to ask you Chessina, what did you used to do for your former mistress?" I asked as we waited for the dessert to be brought in.

  "My former mistress, her verbal identifier," here Chessina giggled, "is Langoralia, runs one of the pleasure palaces in the city of, well roughly translated its name means, 'place of orgiastic excess'. I'm one of those who make Langoralia's clients happy. I sing, dance, play musical instruments, cook and serve food, play games with clients, make conversation with them, massage them, and of course I have sex with them, whatever makes them happy."

  "Ah." I said, pleased that the dessert had just arrived so I need say nothing more. I was giving house room not just to some kind of junior succubus as I put it earlier, but a fully-fledged demonic courtesan! Who had doubtless been wrapping me around her little finger since she arrived this morning. May the gods curse Lord Pennover with incurable genital itching for the rest of his miserable life! I wonder if I can find out how to do that myself. Still, I reflected sobering, I'm glad that Chessina is here rather than in Fishface's hands, I'd rather have my current problems than that.

  "What do you do, master? I mean, I know you're a wizard, but what does a wizard do to earn his living? Chessina asked, seemingly with genuine curiosity.

  "Mostly selling potions." I replied. "The expensive, difficult to make ones I exchange in the city for magical components and reagents. A lot of those are old stock that master Harmon made before he died. I'm learning to make more of them, but I still have so much to learn. I scribe magical spells on scrolls for itinerant wizards and make simple potions that I exchange locally for food and other supplies. I cast a few spells for hire from time to time, not healing or fertility based though."

  "Why not? said Chessina.

  "The local druidic priestess has made it plain that such things are her province and I don't want to offend her," I said.

  "Why, do you like her?" said Chessina, looking intently at me.

  "Like, no. I do respect her though," I said. "She's very knowledgeable and wields considerable power, both magical and among the locals. However, she has made it very plain that she doesn't like wizards. She considers that we disrupt the natural order of things. My master respected her, and she respected Harmon. I think she was also a little afraid of him. She doesn't respect me, and certainly isn't afraid of me."

  The dessert being finished, the cheese board arrived. I had decided to eschew the postprandial brandy for a while, I needed to keep a clear head.

  "Master, I've been meaning to ask you," said Chessina, "Why were you casting the spell that I came through? I'm very grateful that you were, but why did you want to summon a demon?

  "Then let me tell you," I said, rising from the table and gesturing to the two comfortable chairs by the fireplace, "While we wait for some tea, the tale of Lord Pennover and the amulet." I told Chessina the story and concluded, "However I don't intend to try to summon any demon for quite a while, it might be dangerous. I'll tell Pennover that I'm too busy, and if he complains to his uncle, I'll say that I'm brewing a regrow limb potion. That takes six months. With luck, in that time either Pennover's father the duke will get him another amulet, or the little creep will do something terminally stupid and die so the problem goes away."

  "Why didn’t you ask me to do it, master? Don't you think that I can?" Chessina looked hurt.

  "Not at all. I just didn't want to ask you to do such a menial task," I said. "You're not the sort of person to root around the bottom of a pond dodging an overgrown catfish."

  "Please let me do it for you master. You've done so much for me. I want to do something for you," Chessina said.

  "Very well, thank you. I accept your offer," I said. "We'll talk about the details tomorrow. I'm going to bed."

  "Shall I come to your bed master, or will you come to mine?" Chessina asked, giving me a blinding come-hither smile.

  "Neither, your wound needs time to heal," I said, firmly, then pressed quickly on. "I know that demons don't need to sleep, so if you're bored there are lots of books in the library besides those on cooking. Just tell the library what you are interested in and the closest book to it will go to the desk, or if the library draws a complete blank it will make a sort of wet 'phnut' sound. Good night Chessina."

  "Good night, master," said Chessina to my quickly retreating
back.

  After locking the door to my chamber, with a spell not a key. I paused while preparing for bed to look at myself in the large mirror. Yes, I know such things cost a fortune, or would do if my master hadn't known several dwarves who owed him a favour. The person that looked back at me was tall and well built, ah the joys of a high meat diet, not flabby, as my master insisted that a wizard must keep himself fit to be better able to cast more spells and hold them longer. I disliked the exercise regimen that Harmon insisted on but I kept at it, partly in memory of him.

  I wasn't as beefy as Pennover's keepers, but then I didn't need to swing a sword about. I did take some malicious satisfaction however, that I was beefier than the little creep himself. My reflection had brown hair and eyes, so presumably I did too, and my features were regular. In my liaisons with the female sex, both attempted and ah, consummated. Females had neither thrown themselves at me rending both our garments to get at me, nor had they run away screaming in terror and disgust. Therefore, the question of whether Chessina was interested in Castamir for his own sweet self, or because she wanted to gain a hold over him was, as far as I was concerned, still open.

  oOo

  I didn't quite wake with the dawn but a little later I was lying in bed enjoying both the scents of spring and the birdsong that the breezes brought to me. Was what I thought happened yesterday nothing but a horrible dream? No, I couldn't dream anything that bizarre; besides my chamber door was spell locked, and I never spell lock my door.

  I sighed, did my exercises, washed, dressed, unlocked my door and sallied forth to breakfast. I was greeted in the dining room by a pretty, cheerful face surmounting an immaculate but practical ensemble of tunic and breeches, short tunic and tight breeches. It was obvious that Chessina intended us to be up and doing, her tail twitched happily.

  Chessina clapped her hands imperiously, and various pieces of crockery and cutlery were wafted in by the servants, accompanied by the most delicious smells.