by John Booth
He used the knife to cut off her clothes, running the knife across her body from her breasts down to between her legs. “First I shall satisfy my lust and then I shall find out how much pain you can take. I want to hear your screams, they always give me pleasure.”
Jurd pulled the gag from her mouth and Jalia had a single chance to act.
“Magic Sword cut off his balls”, she shouted as Jurd leaned over her.
The King screamed like a girl as the magic dagger extricated itself from Jalia’s backside without cutting her and the king’s testicles dropped to the floor, neatly severed by the flying blade. Blood spurted and he fell to the floor just after them.
“Magic Sword cut his throat and then free me,” Jalia said wearily. She tottered to her feet and looked down at the King. Apparently, fairies do not die instantly when their throats are cut, as he gurgled on the floor, drowning slowly in the blood from the wound. Jalia removed her magic ring from his unresisting hand. Then she decided she might as well give him one last treat to see him out. She picked up the magic dagger and moved towards him. His eyes grew wide in horror as she grabbed his manhood and lifted the blade.
Getting her slashed clothes to stay on her was more difficult. Fortunately, her coat was long enough to provide her with some cover. She used Jurd’s belt to tie her skirt together.
Jalia knew she should rescue Daniel as he was about to be tortured. But the lure of finding the fairy treasure was irresistible and she decided to seek out the dungeons just as soon as she had explored a few rooms.
The King’s apartments connected together through a series of doors. No one was about and she passed swiftly through the rooms. She found one filled with glass pedestals with jewels resting on their tops. She started filling her pockets.
It was only when her skirt fell down from the weight that Jalia decided she had better get on and rescue Daniel. She had no idea how much time had gone by.
Deciding that the dungeons would have to be somewhere below where she stood as it was the traditional location, she crept through the castle. She looked for stairs leading down and finally found a spiral stone staircase.
In the disgustingly dirty tunnels beneath the castle she found a door guarded by a couple of fairies. This was the sort of place she expected to find Daniel. It was the work of seconds to whisper a command to the magic dagger and get it to kill the guards. They fell silently, the dagger moving so swiftly that they never knew what had killed them.
She found a set of brass keys on a large ring and unlocked the door. There were many cells within and she stopped at each of them, looking through the viewing slit cut into each door. Some of the rooms were occupied. Most of the occupants inside were long dead.
Jalia considered unlocking the doors to the cells where the inmates were still alive, but decided she didn’t have the time. She had spent far too collecting treasure to be able to show any compassion now.
After looking in about a hundred cells, she found the one holding Daniel. He had taken a severe beating, having held out for some time before telling the fairies how to use the dagger. Jalia was willing to bet he lied when he told them.
Daniel smiled through a bruised and battered face. She freed him from chains binding him to the wall with the dagger, which turned out to be capable of cutting through iron without dulling its blade. Daniel held out his hand and very reluctantly Jalia placed the dagger in it. She had already come to think of that particular toy as her own. It suited her personality far better than the ring and she wanted it.
They made their escape from the castle, killing the guards at the gate who stood in their way. It was well past dawn before they returned to their camp. Jalia used the magic ring to return the two of them to normal size. They stretched and breathed a sigh of relief. It had not been much fun, being nine inches tall.
Neither spoke as they traveled as swiftly as the donkeys would allow. It was morning and the body of the King would have been discovered. They wanted to be as far from that castle and sand fairy vengeance as it was possible to get.
Late that night they camped in scrubland far beyond the edge of the desert. Jalia moved the best pieces of the treasure to her bag while Daniel was occupied with the donkeys. He started a fire and made a meal, which they ate in silence before they divided the remains of the treasure equally.
Jalia didn’t see this as cheating. In her mind, he was only a simple boy. She was certain that having so much money would be bad for him. In any case, that was what she told herself as she broke their agreement.
Daniel found a convenient stone to sit on that was just the right height. He patted his knee and gave Jalia a significant look. She sighed, but in this case a deal was a deal and he was covered in bruises that were in some small way her fault. She removed her lower garments and lay carefully over Daniel’s knee.
As he spanked her bottom thoroughly and systematically, she found that it hurt even more than she had anticipated. Daniel was a strong and well motivated boy. But it was worth it for the treasure she taken, of that she had no doubt.
On the Road
To make it more difficult for any vengeful sand fairies to find them, Daniel and Jalia left the trade road and set out north across country.
The vegetation became increasing lush as they traveled north. After a few days they reached the southern edge of the Great Forest. The Great Forest stretches all the way from Delbon to Enbar Entar. While settlements were few and far between, they found several small villages largely cut off from civilization and traded with their inhabitants.
“There’s another village ahead,” Jalia informed Daniel when she found him some way back on the trail. She had been scouting ahead on foot having become bored with riding the donkeys.
Daniel was surprised by the number of villages they had encountered in their travels, though there were many miles between each one and the trails they traveled between them were little more than deer tracks. These groups of isolated people lived their whole lives in the forest and never traveled more than a few miles from the places they were born.
They had not seen anything that might be called a town, let alone a city. They discovered that a big local event was when two or three villages would get together to hold a fair. These fairs were more about finding a bride or husband than having fun, though they were also a way of exchanging news. Each village was largely self-sufficient, able to grow their own food, make their own clothes, and build whatever they needed. Individual families passed down specialist skills through the generations, to meet the needs of their village.
They also relied on the tinkers that walked the trails to supply them with the things they could not make. That was probably the only reason the trails existed. Traders like Daniel hauling large amounts of trade goods with them were unheard of and that meant that whenever they entered a village, Daniel and Jalia caused a stir. However, not all of that was down to what Daniel brought with him on the donkeys.
“You aren’t going to get us thrown out of this village, are you?” Daniel asked.
Jalia resisted the urge to stamp her foot. “That was not my fault, Daniel.”
“You stabbed the most important man in the village.”
“He was cheating at cards.”
Jalia smiled sweetly before adding. “I remembered what you asked and I didn’t kill him.”
“Which at least meant we didn’t have to flee a lynch mob, the way we did in Nettle.”
“It’s not my fault Jalon is full of men who can’t stand to lose at cards to a girl.” Jalia scuffed her feet and pouted as Daniel led the donkeys over the rise to gaze at the village in the valley below. “I’ll be good this time, Daniel, I promise.”
Daniel sighed as he ran his eyes over the dozen thatched cottages below them. Jalia was drawn to trouble the way a frog was drawn to water. As soon as they entered the village, it was certain that every little girl and pubescent boy in the place would follow her around like sheep. She was the kind of grown-up little girls wanted to be, whil
e being exotic, attractive and wearing little in clothes did wonders for the imaginations and ambitions of the local boys.
The children would annoy Jalia and put her at odds with their mothers, who would be terrified their daughters might follow her example. There would also be teenage girls worried that Jalia would steal the heart of their intended. And that ignored the bored men who would see her as a chance to stray from their wives. Trouble would follow after Jalia’s arrival in the same way that night follows day.
Their entrance into a village always caused a bit of a fuss. People rushed out of cottages to look at them while the old men of the village would turn up with pitchforks in their hands, just in case.
Daniel was therefore more than a little surprised that as they entered the village, the men stayed in their houses with their womenfolk, staring out at them through the windows of their cottages.
The three men who appeared out of large round building wearing swords were also a surprise. Swords were something you didn’t often see in a village. A pitchfork could do much the same job and the men holding them could wield them with a skill that took hours of practice each day. Pitchforks could also be used to till the soil and lift crops. Swords, on the other hand, had only one function and that was to kill. Farmers were usually too busy trying to survive to spend time mastering such skills.
Daniel scrutinized the men as he walked towards them. In Delbon, he would have instantly identified two of the men as mercenaries. In the cities, there was always a need to protect your property from those who wanted to steal it and mercenaries were common. These men were heavily muscled and looked at him in exactly the way a mercenary looks when sizing up a threat. Could they take him? Would he fight or run if they threatened him?
The man standing between them was different. He had the look of a man used to being in command. Daniel thought he must be the village elder, the man everybody turned to in times of trouble. The sneer on his face was worrying though, as they had been universally welcomed everywhere they had been. Even if Jalia’s presence sometimes wore that welcome thin.
“We are traders seeking shelter for the night,” Daniel said.
“What are a couple of traders doing so far off the trade roads?” the man in the middle asked.
“We had an encounter with sand fairies and felt safer in getting off the desert road. We plan to rejoin the trade road between Delbon and Bagdor in the north.”
The mercenaries snorted in disbelief at the mention of sand fairies, but the man in the middle looked at him thoughtfully.
“My name is Janor and these two are my men, Tal and Birt. Welcome to the village of Rift.”
“My name is Daniel and my companion over there is called Jalia. Is there trouble with raiders in the area?” Daniel asked innocently
“No, why do you ask?” Janor asked, his eyes narrowing and his hand moving to rest on the hilt of his sword.
“Most villages do not need swordsmen to protect them,” Jalia answered before Daniel could speak. Daniel was surprised she had stayed silent for so long; letting a man speak for her was not Jalia’s way.
“You’re wearing a sword on your back, young lady,” Janor pointed out.
“I am a woman and often travel alone, it is hardly the same.”
“Pleas, come and take refreshment,” Janor said, waving at the building he had come from. Daniel and Jalia noted that he failed to answer Jalia’s questions as they followed him. The two men walking behind her caused the back of Jalia’s neck to itch.
“This village is weird,” Jalia said as soon as they had a chance to speak without being overheard. After drinking tea with Janor and his men, they had been offered lodgings in the village ‘lords-house’. Most villages had a strongly constructed building called a lords-house where they gathered to withstand storm or attack. When not in use for that purpose the building was used as a meeting place. Travelers were often offered lodging there and were expected to leave a small gift of money or goods at the end of their stay.
Daniel understood Jalia’s concern and he shared it. In every other place they went, people were eager to talk to them, seeking stories of the outside world, goods to trade or just came to gawk at the strangers.
They sat in the largest room of the lords-house eating a meal provided by their hosts. The villagers in the room pointedly ignored them. There were at least a dozen local men and women sitting at benches talking quietly, but if any of them had even glanced at them, Daniel had missed it. It was, as Jalia put it so aptly, weird.
Jalia finished her plate of stew and stood up. “I’m going to see if anyone around here plays cards,” she said, deliberately ignoring the warning look Daniel threw her way. ‘He is not my keeper, and was only a boy I travel with’, she thought almost angrily, the anger covering unexpected feelings of guilt.
Jalia walked to a table where eight men sat huddled together. They were talking quietly and nervously as she approached them. They stopped talking as soon as it became obvious she was coming to their table.
“I wondered if any of you were interested in a friendly game of fade?”
“You have to have money to spare to play games,” the man nearest her replied.
“Or goods to trade,” Jalia replied. She pointed at Daniel. “My friend over there has goods to trade and has the money to buy things you might like to sell.”
“We aren’t allowed,” the man said. “We’ll be in trouble for talking to you. Go away.”
Jalia looked around the room and saw Birt glowering from where he was standing by the door. Jalia considered his look as a challenge. She strode over to him, stopping barely two feet from him.
“Are you staring at me?” she asked.
Birt glared at her with open contempt. “Go back to your donkeys, little girl and take your toy sword with you.”
“Hah!” Jalia turned her back on him and wriggled her bottom at him.
Birt pulled his sword from its scabbard. The sound a sword makes when clearing a scabbard is distinctive. Jalia heard it and spun around building up momentum. She kicked Birt hard in the stomach. He doubled over in pain, clutching at the afflicted region, his sword dropping back uselessly into its scabbard.
Jalia locked her hands together and drove them down onto Birt’s head. His chin smashed into her raised knee and he dropped to the floor unconscious. Jalia was completely lost in battle rage. She pulled her sword from its scabbard and brought it down towards Birt’s neck.
“Stop!” a woman’s voice screamed. Jalia somehow managed to bring her sword to a stop before it sliced into the man’s neck.
“Why not?” Jalia panted as adrenaline pulsed through her veins. “Jalon would be a better place without him.”
“Lord Janor has our children. Six are held as hostages against our good behavior,” the man Jalia had spoken to earlier put in quickly.
Daniel had drawn his dagger when the fighting started and walked towards Jalia while keeping his back against the wall. Every villager in the room looked too stunned to attack them, but he took no chances.
“And you let him do this to you?” Jalia said with contempt ringing in her voice. “He is only one man.”
“He has four more like Birt at his fortress,” the man explained. “We tried to rebel against them and Janor cut Kella’s throat in front of us. She was only eight years old. One of his men is always guarding the children, the children Janor is not using, that is.”
“What does he demand of you?” Daniel asked to stop Jalia from saying exactly what she thought of the people in the room.
“We must pay a tithe of all we own to him and his men. They live well, leaving us in poverty. They have women with them too, ones who prefer not to work, but preferring to be kept. They service Janor’s men. Lord Janor, on the other hand, prefers his flesh a lot younger.”
“And you put up with this?” Jalia asked in astonishment.
The man looked down at his feet, too ashamed to speak.
“What can we do? He changes the children he
holds hostage as the whim takes him, and if we obey him he eventually gives them back to us alive,” the woman told her. “If you kill that one,” she said pointing at the prone form of Birt. “Lord Janor will kill a child in revenge.”
Jalia turned to Daniel.
“I think we should put a stop to this. We should rescue the children and kill the scum that hold them.”
“What if they kill our children when you attack?” the woman asked, concern in her voice.
“Your children cannot be used as hostages against us. They will have to fight instead,” Jalia explained. “We will tie this one up and when he wakes you will tell him you cannot untie him without risking our wrath. He will believe you because he is convinced you are cowards. Tell him you will untie him when Janor is victorious against us. That story will keep you safe if we fail.”
“Why would you do this for us?” one of the men asked.
Jalia grinned, flahing her canines. “Because killing this scum is going to be fun.”
“And why exactly, am I doing this?” Daniel asked as they walked towards Janor’s fortress.
“Because someone has to rescue the children while I kill Janor and his men,” Jalia said, pouting. “You have your magic dagger to protect you. I’m sure you will manage.”
“But I don’t want to kill anybody,” Daniel said a little too loudly and Jalia hushed him. “I’m just a trader and want to mind my own business,” he whispered at her furiously.
“You can take me over your knee again if you do. I enjoyed it last time.”
“Jalia…” Daniel found words failed him and he looked at her in near despair. She was determined to go through with this madness and he had no choice but to help her as best he could. The fortress was impressive. Its outer wall was made of rough hewn logs and stood over fifteen feet tall. Behind the barrier stood a stone building, though they could only see a part of its roof from where they were.
