by R W Foster
A gout of flame enveloped the demon’s form. The monster waved its arms, clearing the fire like smoke. I tried to clutch my sword hilt with both hands, but had to release my left hand which burned too much. I almost dropped my weapon due to the intense pain.
“Snevaeh Eht Fo Ekirts!” A blazing silver fist erupted from the ground at the demon’s hooves and struck it in the jaw with concussive force. The fiend was raised on its hind legs by the power of the blow. I ran forward and punctured its chest with my broken sword. The monster screamed and kicked me in mine. A thud echoed inside me and something crunched. I flew back and slammed into a tree. Stars exploded across my vision and I couldn’t catch my breath. My sight began to fade. Before everything went dark, Lady Orwen leaped into the air and smote the demon’s skull with a flanged mace.
2
I woke, warmth engulfing my chest, and my belly itching. I drew breath without pain anymore, and scratched. I opened my eyes to discover Dearbhaile’s face scrunched in concentration. The glow followed the path her hand traced over me. I realized my head lay on her soft thighs. Almost of its own volition, my hand cupped her cheek. She turned her head, and kissed my palm. I traced her lips with my thumb and she captured it in her mouth. She nibbled on my digit, sending a wave of heat rushing through me. These sensations were brand new.
My hand was slapped. I blinked, startled. Dearbhaile hadn’t done so. Her left hand was on my upper body, following my ribcage and her right was on my head. I glanced to my right and discovered Lady Orwen had my other hand in hers, healing the limb. A sickly green-yellow pus dripped like blood from the wound. At the same time, I detected a putrid odor wafting over me.
I sat up. “By all the hells. What the fuck is going on with my hand? Why is my wound dripping this,” I waved my limb, sending the noxious fluid flying, “instead of blood?”
“Carter!” Both women said my name. I turned to them.
Keeper Dearbhaile gestured for Lady Orwen to speak first. “You’ve been wounded by the spike of a Taurine demon. They ooze a substance which is toxic to mortals just in case they are unable to kill their target. Before the toxin slays the infected, they are half corrupted into a Taurine.”
I think my eyebrows touched my hairline. “What would the purpose be?”
“Tae prevent th’ victim from goin’ to their god’s side.”
“This takes corruption to a whole new level. You seemed to be having difficulty healing this, Lady Orwen.”
She ran her hand through her hair. By its rumpled appearance, I knew this wasn’t the first time she had done so. “The taint runs too deep for me to heal.”
“What about Azriel?”
“Neither he, nor Kellün answer my prayers.”
‘Oh shit. There are two possible explanations for this. What happened while I was out? What did —’
“What happened, Adora? What did you do?” I shot to my feet.
“Carter, wha—? I’ve done nothing.”
“You had to do something. You had to.”
“Nae, Carter, she’s nae done anythin’. She’s pure.”
“Fuck!”
Both women stared at me. “What’s wrong, Carter?” Lady Orwen’s voice was steel.
Weijia approached with Durrgedenn’s sword and shield. ‘Thank god I don’t have to answer yet.’ “Weijia, why do you have those? Where is Durrgedenn?”
She glanced at the weapons and her chin quivered. She dropped to her knees and began to sob. I went to her and was joined by Dearbhaile and Adora. Human and half-elf wrapped their arms around the distraught half-dragon woman. I knew then. A hard knot formed in my throat. I tried to swallow a few times. “The demon killed him.” My voice was thick.
Keeper Dearbhaile grasped my shoulder. My chest heaved. I already missed the wise Dwarf. “Come, Carter. We shouldnae sit here while Belial’s army be nearby.” She stood.
“Good point.” I rose, and offered my hands to the others.
They took my hands and came to their feet as well. Lady Orwen kept her arm around Weijia. I took Dearbhaile’s left hand in my right one.
“Where are we going, Carter?” Adora asked.
“Dunskillen Town. Anyone know the way?”
“Aye. Why do ye want to go?”
“Because we ended up there when we were separated.” I scratched my belly.
“Carter,” Adora said, “why do you keep scratching yourself?”
“For fun.” The sarcasm was thick enough to cut glass.
She flipped up my shirt and spotted the pink moss which I used to patch my wound two nights ago. She gasped. Her jaw was agape, eyes wide and bulging. Her flesh paled and turned clammy to my touch. I shook her arm.
“Lady Orwen. What is wrong?”
“Carter, why do you have moss on you?”
“To staunch my bleeding from an attack in the arena. Why?”
“This is Tianarri moss!” Lady Orwen said. Keeper Dearbhaile gasped, and she shook free of me. I raised my eyebrows. “Now I understand why I can’t heal your hand! Tianarri corrupts and warps healing magic.”
“The moss grows in the Abyss, Carter, and be vile as a demon,” Keeper Dearbhaile said. “An’ worse, ye will be turned into one.”
“Well, fuck.” I bent and picked up the broken sword. I spun the busted weapon so the jagged end was pointed at my gut.
Adora grabbed me. “What are you thinking, Carter?”
“That I would cut the stuff out and take care of the problem. What do you think?”
“Carter, Rishka, this nae be the time for sarcasm.” I flicked my eyes to my beloved. “Lady Owen means ye cannae cut the lichen out. It be bound tae yer bones, an’ soul.”
I blew out a breath. “Shit. I should have known.”
“Maybe th’ Wizard Cora might have some answers. Or ideas.”
“Good point.”
“We’ve got a long journey ahead of us.” Lady Orwen rolled her shoulders. “Tonight will be miserable. I’m already stiff, and we have long miles to trek.”
“Is anyone ever going to introduce us all?” Weijia asked.
My cheeks heated. I’d forgotten I was the only one who knew everyone. “Right.” I gestured to my Rishka. “Lady Orwen, Weijia, this is Keeper Dearbhaile.” I then introduced the other women as I scratched my belly.
Dearbhaile swatted my hand. “Scratching encourages th’ Tianarri tae grow.”
“Explains why it itches so much.” I picked up Durrgedenn’s sword and shield. “Keeper Dearbhaile, how did you get here?”
“A teleportation spell.”
“Impressive,” Weijia said. “They are hard to master.”
“Why would you chance such a dangerous spell, Rishka?”
“The magic was nae that dangerous.”
“You had no idea where I was, nor what the conditions were.” Weijia gaped at me. Lady Orwen nodded, while a flush crept up Dearbhaile’s neck. She stared at the ground and traced a semi-circle through the dirt with her toe. I narrowed my eyes. “Wait a minute. You had something of mine, didn’t you?”
“Aye.” Her voice was so soft, I had to move closer to hear. “I had a lock o’ yer hair.”
“A lock of my hair.” She nodded. “Why did you have a lock of my hair? And when did you take it?”
“I wanted somethin’ of yers to hold.”
“Uh-huh. And when did you take it?”
“Our first night alone together by the river near Dunskillen Town.”
I wasn’t sure what to make of this. I glanced at Adora and Weijia. The Warpriest shrugged, and the troll-blooded half-dragon watched. I turned back to Keeper Dearbhaile. A droplet of water wet the ground at her feet. ‘Why is she crying? Does she think I’m mad at her?’ I pulled my love into my arms and held her. I ran my hand along her spine while whispering soothing sounds.
She gripped my deerskin shirt in both fists and started to sob. “Hey now,” I said. “Shhh. Everything is alright. I’ll make certain of it.” Her shoulders hitched, and I caught a familiar so
und. ‘Did she just,’ my shirt got a bit damp, ‘blow her nose on me? Ugh!’ I shuddered. Her head went left to right against my chest. ‘Oh dear god. Can this get any worse?’
She tilted her head up. Her eyes were red, her cheeks blotchy. A small runner of mucus trailed from her nose to my chest. My stomach rolled. ‘Who’d have thought? Confronted by my beloved bloody, beaten and unconscious doesn’t rattle me, yet her snot on my shirt, and I’m ready to toss my cookies. Nice.’
In desperation, I tried to push my mind away from the thought of mucus. “Did you just blow your nose on my shirt?” ‘What the fuck is wrong with me?’
Dearbhaile gave a watery giggle. “Aye. I be sorry, Carter.”
I cupped her cheeks and brushed her tears away with my thumbs. “No need to cry, Rishka. You’ve done nothing wrong.” I kissed her forehead, pulled off my shirt and allowed her to clean away the mucus. “Could we use the spell to return to Dunskillen?”
“Nae. The augury be single use only. To get me from the town tae you.”
I sighed. “Oh course. Wouldn’t want things to be too easy, would we?” I said under my breath.
“Sorry, Rishka?”
“Not important, Beloved.” I turned to the others. “Let’s get moving, eh?”
I turned to the woods, and tried to ignore the way Weijia was looking at my bare torso.
3
We entered a serene glade deep within the forest. Our entry was unexpected as there had been no indication from the trees or underbrush an opening was forthcoming. I glanced around, and was captivated by the sight of a young woman swimming nude in a small lake in the center of the glade. She turned towards us when we entered the glade. Her beauty was enchanting. She had long, copper colored hair, large black eyes, perfect skin and long, swept back ears. The young woman rose out of the water and approached our band without fear. Water dripped and flowed down her exquisite body. My breath caught in my throat when she locked her entrancing gaze on my own.
“Be careful, Carter,” Lady Orwen whispered. “She is a nymph.”
Her words didn’t make any connections in my head. My gaze happened to follow a bead of water as it ran from the hollow of the nymph’s neck, between her full, up thrust breasts, down her abdomen to where it was caught in her navel. I swallowed hard, feeling as if I had been punched in the chest by Angriz. The nymph continued forward until she stood inches from me.
“Who are you, and why are you in my glade?” She asked in a soft, haunting voice.
“I- I,” I stammered.
Her perfect eyebrows rose. “Yes?”
My tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth. I tried swallowing a few times, but couldn’t get any saliva flowing. Lady Orwen came to my rescue. “We were traveling through the forest and accidently came upon your glade.”
The nymph’s beautiful features warped in an instant to a look of pure rage. She whipped her head around to glare at Lady Orwen. “Silence, Warpriest!” She growled. Just as quick, she turned back to me, still pissed off. “Answer my question, now, Mortal!”
Dearbhaile slipped up to grasp my hand, reassuring me.
“My name is Carter Blake, nymph,” I said, my voice frigid. “We travel through your glade on our way to battle Drago the Clanless.”
In a flash, the rage was gone from her face, leaving serenity. “Thank you. Now, tell me, why should I allow you passage?”
I bared my teeth at her as I’d seen Angriz do with others. She gazed back at me without expression. I guess with normal teeth like mine, it didn’t have the same effect as Angriz’ fang filled maw would have. I ran through all I had ever read about nymphs in my head. “By all the hells,” I said. “We go to battle a warlord who has orcs and undead in his thrall!”
For a blink, the rage flashed across her face before it went calm again. “Very good, Carter Blake. You have at least heard of nymphs and our enmity for despoilers of nature and unnatural things. I seek more than words.”
Dearbhaile spoke up, “What about th’ word o’ Renline? Would this suffice?”
“I’m sorry, Rishka,” the nymph said. “It would not. I need proof from the human.”
“Human?!” Lady Orwen exclaimed. “Do you not know who this is?”
The nymph’s face once again warped into fierce rage. She raised her hand to strike Lady Orwen, but I caught her wrist before the blow could land. Everyone gasped. The nymph turned her gaze back upon me, her eyes glowing yellow. “Unhand me,” she hissed.
“You realize you were about to strike a Warpriest of Kellün, don’t you?” I said as I released her.
“Kellün?” She sneered. “That traitorous dog? I should slay you all where you stand.”
Lay Orwen began to speak, but I raised my hand, forestalling her.
“Why do you say he’s a traitor?” I asked.
“He told me an emissary would be arriving in my glade with orders from him. The next night, an orc vampire entered my glade bearing his banner. I made ready to destroy this abomination, but a treebeard stepped forward to protect it.”
‘That’s what I was afraid of. The other reason he wouldn’t answer Adora’s prayers. He’s gone dark.’ She pointed behind me. I turned and spotted a blackened and dead tree. Seared into the bark was the shadow of an orc. I turned back to the nymph. She held her right hand out to a nearby pine. To my surprise, a branch began to bloom before my eyes. The bloom grew and grew, until it began to assume a definite female form. She had wild, almond shaped black eyes, wood looking skin and leafy hair. Otherwise, she bore an eerie resemblance to Keeper Dearbhaile. I remembered from my game playing days the description which told me this was a dryad, a tree spirit. They protected trees from those who would cut them down and had a symbiotic life cycle with the tree they choose to live within.
The dryad handed the nymph a piece of brown cloth which the nymph wrapped around herself, covering her nakedness. Just then, a small party of white haired elves entered the glade with a pair of orcs, their arms bound behind them. The orcs were shoved to the ground when the nymph turned to stare at the new arrivals. The white haired elves went on their knees before the nymph.
“Mistress,” said one in a hollow sounding voice. “We caught these marauders in our forest. They are the only ones left alive. When they surrendered, we brought them to you for judgment.”
Without looking at me, the nymph spoke. “Now is your chance to prove your words, Carter. Kill these orcs, and I will allow you passage.”
“No,” I said.
The nymph turned back to me, surprise all over her face. The white haired elves rose to their feet, drawing their weapons. “Why not?” She asked, curious. “You claim to be against orcs. Slay them to prove it to me.”
“I will not commit murder to satisfy your whims.”
“Carter,” Dearbhaile whispered, “What are ye sayin’? We’ve been killin’ orcs all along. Why be it now murder?”
I said to both females. “These orcs are non-combatants now. They have no weapons and are defenseless. Not only that, they surrendered. So killing them would be murder.”
Dearbhaile subsided as the nymph crossed her arms. She gestured to the elves behind her after a few minutes of contemplating me. “Give them their weapons back,” she ordered.
Without taking my eyes from the nymph, I said to the elf who had spoken, “Arm these orcs, if you must. If they attack anyone, you become my enemy.”
“Explain yourself,” the nymph ordered.
“Arming someone so they would attack innocents is evil. I will not allow evil to live.”
“The orcs are evil, yet you would allow them to live,” the nymph said, voice filled with triumph, thinking she had me trapped with my own words.
“As prisoners,” I said. “You can begin the process of redeeming them.”
The only white haired elf to speak burst out laughing. “Redeem an orc?” He chuckled. “You have to be joking, human.”
“No,” I said. “Though I do know this one about three orcs entering a tav
ern.”
“Rishka,” Dearbhaile said to me. “Please stay on topic.”
“You are right as usual, Rishka,” I said.
The white haired elves, nymph and dryad all gaped at us. Dearbhaile blushed. I grinned.
“Surprised a Renline would choose a human?” I asked, not needing an answer.
One of the white haired elves charged at me, a large club upraised.
“Wen, no!” shouted the first elf.
Ignoring his friend, Wen brought his club down at my head, intending to kill me. Before anyone could blink, I caught the descending weapon in my left hand. I stared into the smaller man’s eyes. “Are you so bothered by the fact I’m human you’d rather I was dead than to allow her to be happy?”
“You aren’t worthy,” he spat.
“That’s not for you to say, now is it?”
“She is promised to my brother!”
Those words gave me pause. “What do you mean?”
“I be promised tae no one!” Dearbhaile exclaimed.
“Fifty years ago, to forge an alliance between the Renline and Gorauch, your Keeper promised his successor to our chieftain’s eldest son. You were at the ceremony. You agreed!”
I forgot about the weapon I was holding above my head as I glanced over my shoulder at her. “Is this true, Dearbhaile?” I left off the honorific for the first time since we had been reunited.
“It was, Rishka. But Corath was killed before th’ Joinin’ could take place!”
“What do you mean?” I asked. “Start from the beginning.”
“Fifty years ago was tha qort, tha Time o’ Strengthenin’. It be a time when Elven cast aside their differences tae make us stronger as a people. Renline had never taken part in it before because we were th’ strongest and most numerous clan o’ Elven in the Realm. We took part because Drago had killed so many o’ our clan. At that time, we numbaired about a thousan’. We joined the Gorauch close to their mountain top home for the qort. As Wen has said, our Keeper did promise me tae his brother. I was nae adverse tae th’ match because I found him fair tae gaze upon and ’twould make both o’ our clans stronger. Corath and I be both romantics and decided we would travel tae th’ Vaush-Tauric’s home together so we could come tae know each other. Durin’ our second day o’ travel, we be attacked by a gaunt, a undead monstrosity which be created by th’ half-demon Belial. Corath be killed by th’ gaunt. A squad o’ Gorauch be nearby an’ came tae me rescue before I be killed as well. After th’ funeral, I went back tae th’ Vaush-Tauric.”
