Box of Runes An Epic Fantasy Collection

by J. Thorn

  Chapter 10

  “Rot here and die, you worthless bitch.”

  He threw Gishwan into the cell. A desperate shadow crawled on the door, and the walls dripped moisture and the suffering of departed souls. Gishwan struggled to regain her balance, blood escaping through her mouth and nose. Bruises covered her face and she had no vision in one eye. She felt a surge of pain race upward from her most private areas, making it difficult to stand, and impossible to sit.

  Gishwan’s hair and nails had grown to extraordinary lengths. Her bruises healed, but with no help from the rancid gruel she consumed. With a sharp stone on the cell floor, Gishwan marked the brick walls for each passing of the Sun God that she witnessed. She glanced up at the ceiling, plotting the best way to use it for her tally.

  “Get up and move to the door,” said a female voice from outside the cell, shocking Gishwan. “If you ever want to see the Sun God journey across the sky again, get up and move to the door.”

  Gishwan swam through the damp darkness to the door. “Who are you?” she asked.

  “We have no time. Stand back. When the door opens, move through it, and take my hand.”

  A blinding light scalded Gishwan’s face. She stumbled towards the glare. A powerful grip took her arm and dragged her out of the cell, and a cloth covered her from head to toe, the force pulling her up a staircase. At the top, she fell. Her muscles had atrophied and sores covered her naked skin. She faded into unconsciousness until a powerful hand slapped her face, forcing her to regain her balance. Two sets of arms lifted Gishwan and threw her into a carriage. She felt the cadence of the hooves as the horses trotted before she ran out of energy and collapsed into nothing.

  Gishwan sensed movement before she opened her eyes. Lifting heavy eyelids, she saw nothing but figures robed in white haze. She blinked, hoping to clear her vision. A striking female figure loomed over her, and she saw thirty suns. Hair as black as terror fell in waves, and the woman’s eyes outshone emerald gems. Her skin glowed and her curves would drive men to kill.

  “Do not speak. You have been resting for one moon, but it will take more. Sip this.” She handed Gishwan a cup of steaming liquid. Gishwan attempted to sit, but vomit fell from her mouth and into in her lap. “That is to be expected. Your captors deprived your body for many days and it is readjusting. Drink.”

  Gishwan took the cup and washed the foul taste of bile out of her mouth. The herbal tea hit her like a lightning bolt, and a surge of energy coursed through her veins. Her eyes opened wide, riveted to the face of her savior.

  “I . . . I’m not sure where I . . . ”

  “Patience. Speech will return, but on its terms, not yours. The remedy will help you to heal.”

  “What—what shall I call you?”

  “I am Rihclupe, Sorceress of the Wind. You may call me ‘Ri.’ What name has the Book of Horoscopes given you?”

  “I am Gishwan, from the village of the protectorate.” Visions of charred corpses and burning huts raced through Gishwan’s memories as she spoke the words.

  “They slaughtered your people. I can see that through you. You carry great sadness, and desperate confusion.”

  “Yes, but how did you—”

  “Later. We will get to all of that later. Now you must rest.”

  Ri placed her hand on Gishwan’s forehead and mumbled. The pillow drew Gishwan’s head back down and her eyes closed.

  “This one has powerful energy,” Ri said to the cloaked figure leaving the room.

  ***

  Panic seized Gishwan. She awoke on a cot, naked but unharmed, and remembered a hand dragging her from her cell, but nothing else.

  “It appears as though you are making a recovery.”

  “Rihclupe?” Gishwan asked.

  “Yes. Some of our previous conversations have remained, I see.”

  “What has happened?”

  “Sit down, Gishwan.”

  She obeyed the instruction, her eyes locked on Ri’s.

  “A group of bandits took you captive. They sold you to a slave trader. Men paid to abuse you, and when you were bloody and torn, they threw you into a cell to die. Your spirit fought. I was selling herb to the jailer when I sensed your energy. I was willing to pay for your release, but the jailer was not through with you. I stole you and took care of the jailer. You are safe now, and will recover.”

  Gishwan’s head swirled in a mess of memories and words. “What happened to my—” she started to say.

  “I’m afraid they killed all of the members of your traveling group. You are the sole survivor. At least that is what the slave trader told the jailer.”

  Gishwan turned away from Ri.

  “That will not hide your feelings, Gishwan. I can feel them as you do. I sense your pain and share your confusion. There will be time to explore that later. I must lock your room to keep others out, not to keep you in. Explore it, and we will talk again later.”

  Ri left her alone without waiting for a response.

  She ran her hand along the adobe walls. Not a single crack existed between bricks. A white mud mixture covered the pitched ceiling, and many jars and flasks covered the walls. Most wore labels, but contained symbols foreign to her. Opposite the cot stood a worn, ancient desk covered with rolls of papyrus and opened scrolls. A soothing fire crackled in the hearth and two windows stood guard on opposite walls. Gishwan walked for the first time in many days. Pains gripped her below the waist as the faces of ogre-like men appeared in her head. She stood by the window and looked out.

  Turquoise ocean greeted the horizon, floating still and flat as a warrior’s blade. Bobbing, foaming water teased brilliant white sand, and Gishwan inhaled the salty, vibrant aroma rolling off the warm wind. A few sagging trees kept watch over the area, while colorful songbirds serenaded the lonely beach. She moved to the other side of the room and looked out the opposite window, where a similar view exploded in front of her. Gishwan smiled and returned to the first window to drink in the scene once more.

  Days passed and Gishwan’s wounds healed, even though the frightening visions of the men that used her did not. Ri stopped in to see how she was doing, stayed for a little conversation, and then left. Gishwan passed the time by testing the strength of the locks on her door.

  “You look well and rested. I think it is time we took a walk together,” said Ri. Gishwan looked at her and smiled. “Come, take my hand.”

  Gishwan accepted Ri’s outstretched hand and followed her through the door. A moist breeze brushed her hair off her breasts as seagulls squawked at her from above.

  “We are in a remote area on the shore of the Great Sea. At one time, the Dog People held sway over this territory. They abandoned it many suns ago. You will see evidence of them as we walk. They constructed the room you’ve been staying in. The Dog People built fabulous cities prior to their subjugation, despite the reputation created by the Empire. The People of the Sun collected tribute, sapping the Dog People’s ability to build and maintain these cities.”

  Gishwan listened to Ri as they strolled along the surf. The tide hypnotized her and she felt its pull.

  “I have made this place my refuge, my home. I travel with servants when I need supplies or when I sense another,” she said, leveling her gaze at Gishwan. “If I had not run out of wheat, you might be dead right now.”

  “What do you do here?” Gishwan asked.

  “I introduced myself as Rihclupe, Sorceress of the Wind.”

  Gishwan stopped walking and faced Ri. “You are a witch?”

  She remembered her family talking in hushed tones about witchcraft. If the Dark One had intercourse with a woman, she joined the ranks of his thrall. Other tales spoke of his agents, who would bite their victims and take possession of their souls. The Dark One preferred women because they used effective sexual persuasions to corrupt men.

  Frightened people told stories of mob justice. Witch hunters, sometimes called “Hammers of the Witch,” investigated allegations for pay.

  A
Sorceress of the Dark One possessed many powers. She could transform herself into other beings, or send her apparition to do evil deeds. She could copulate with a man, steal his seed, and impregnate another woman with the Dark One’s spawn using an Incubi. Spells damaged crops, rendered a man impotent, or even killed.

  If the Hammer of the Witch determined that a woman served the Dark One, she would be condemned to death. Most witches hanged, although some courts burned or stoned them to death.

  Gishwan’s lips twisted into a snarl. She dropped Ri’s hand as blood rushed to her flushed face. “Tell me why I should not strangle you right now and send you beyond the Region of the Dead?”

  Ri laughed and tucked a wisp of hair behind her ear. “You know nothing but old superstitions. Besides, I could stop your heart this instant if I so desired.”

  Gishwan turned and took stride again.

  “Since the beginning of time, before the Old Ones, before the First Sun, we existed. Mystery surrounds us, granted. However, most of us do no harm. Not all people serve the common good. Some pursue evil, correct? People always fear what they do not know. In prosperous times, we follow our ways, sometimes with a suspicious glare. When times are difficult, blame finds us first. It has always been this way.”

  Gishwan nodded. “The Dark One? Isn’t it true that you serve him?” she asked.

  “Why do you call that force ‘the Dark One’?” asked Ri.

  Confusion spread across Gishwan’s face. “Because he manifests evil in the One World.”

  “How do you know this? Have you seen the Dark One at work here, or have you heard your elders place blame? The one you call ‘Dark One’ is another entity in the One World. The People of the Sun bestowed the condemnation and title on him.

  “Is the sea good or evil? Does the water give or take life? A drop can create life, and yet a tide can destroy an entire village. Our natural world is neither good nor evil. It simply exists.”

  Words burst forth from Gishwan’s mouth in a torrent of disgust. “Water does not put its mouth on a man’s member, steal his seed, and implant it into another woman. Nothing in our natural world bites a person, turning them into a lifeless drone.”

  “You speak of false legends and stories created to scare children,” replied Ri. “The wealthy of your villages employ the Hammer of the Witch. They indict the lonely, widowed women that sit on fertile land or profitable silver mines. Seizing the property of the accused provides an easier path to wealth than traditional legal means.

  “It will take time for you to digest this conversation. I sense that you have reached maximum capacity. Let us make our way back to the house.”

  Gishwan and Ri walked back towards the house as the Sun God finished his journey. The golden tentacles wrapped around the women’s naked bodies as the ocean wind swept their hair into spidery ribbons.

  Chapter 11

  Acatel stood on the raised platform, looking into the faces of a thousand warriors. His hands rested on his weapons, and he wore a battle uniform. The commander of the regiment knelt before him and bowed to place the golden medallion around Acatel’s neck. Soldiers bellowed with approval as Acatel ran his fingers over the engraving of the roaring lion. Other high-ranking officers in the regiment saluted the lone survivor of the attack, and the regiments marched past the platform while wiping tears from their eyes.

  After the ceremony, Acatel and his new commander met to discuss the next strategy.

  “How far until we reach the largest cities of the People of the Sun?”

  The commander looked at the sky and shuffled his feet. “At least one moon, possibly two. We have many mountains to cross and heavy weapons that burden us.”

  “Has there been any word on my prisoner, Gishwan?”

  “Some of our scouts visited a nearby village. They say a band of thieves moved through the pass. An old man claims that a beautiful young woman accompanied them, but he thinks they sold her as a slave.”

  Acatel sighed and faced the mountains ahead. “Have we heard from our allies? What of the People of the Eagle, or the Mountain Souls?”

  “I sent correspondence, my lord. However, communication in this part of the One World remains painfully slow and unreliable. I would suggest we continue marching towards the People of the Sun.”

  Acatel spun and knocked the commander to the ground. “You no longer command this regiment, lest you forget.” He towered over the man, blocking out the rays of the Sun God, and continued without giving his commander an opportunity to apologize. “The captive, Gishwan. She has information about the People of the Sun that can aid us in our attack. Find her and keep her alive. Tell your warriors that any man who partakes of her before presenting her to me will lose his head by my sword.”

  The commander stood up, brushed the dust from his chest, and rubbed his face. His hand moved to the hilt of his sword as Acatel’s eyes met his.

  “Commander? Is there something else we need to discuss?”

  The commander removed his hand from the sword, keeping his eyes fixed on Acatel. “No, my lord. There is nothing else we need to discuss.”

  “Then take my orders and see to the men.”

  The regiment, now under Acatel’s command, prepared to march into the forest. Warriors went about their business of emptying latrines and gathering firewood, dreaming of epic battles in distant lands.

  Chapter 12

  Gishwan followed Ri to the door, where a chain and padlock lay crumpled on the ground.

  “Let’s go inside and prepare a meal,” said Ri.

  The women entered the room, and the Sun God winked as the night chased him away.

  “There is something else you need to know, Gishwan.”

  “Yes?”

  “If you choose to become one of us, your life will be extended for a very long time.”

  Gishwan concentrated on slicing vegetables. “What do you mean?”

  “You will be granted powers beyond your imagination. One of those will be an extended lifeline.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Do you know of the prophet, the one who has spoken to the ancients of the People of the Sun?”

  “Yes. He foretold the end of the Fifth Sun, many generations ago.”

  “I heard him speak in the village center.”

  The women shared a simple meal without conversation. Ri lit a thin leaf of tobacco and blew the sweet aroma over the emptied plates.

  “Are you inviting me to become one of you?” Gishwan asked.

  “I am. Those of us in the Order can sense the potential in others. I felt your presence in that cell from quite a distance.”

  “What must I sacrifice?”

  “For you, nothing. Some sacrifice relationships. They must watch family and friends wither and travel beyond the Region of the Dead. Your family has gone, and you have nobody else,” Ri said, watching a tear fall from Gishwan’s face onto the table. “I did not mean to upset you, but needed to answer your question.”

  “Does it—does it hurt?”

  “I assure you I can make the passage pleasurable.”

  “When?”

  Ri took Gishwan’s hand and led her to the cot. Gishwan noticed feather pillows that were not there before. In addition, candles teased the shadows across the room. Both women dropped their cotton wraps to the floor. Gishwan crawled into the cot and turned onto her back. Ri climbed on top of her as their eyes locked, and her full lips brushed against Gishwan’s chin. As they moved to her mouth, Ri’s tongue caressed Gishwan’s. She placed her hands on Gishwan’s breasts and massaged her erect nipples. An exploding mix of feelings ran through Gishwan’s head, and she grabbed the back of Ri’s neck to force a deeper kiss. Ri slid down her body, the two women now glistening with sweat. She stopped at Gishwan’s waist. With her hands, Ri opened Gishwan’s legs. She felt the warmth from Gishwan’s flower and she slid down further, her tongue lashing Gishwan, who swooned and began pulsing her hips in rhythm with Ri’s touch. As Gishwan’s orgasm racked her body w
ith pleasure, she did not notice the red glare coming from Ri’s eyes.

  ***

  Gishwan opened her eyes. As she sat up, she felt the breeze blowing through the windows and the unlocked door. A pounding force traveled from her neck to her temple, and she fell back to the cot. Vague visions of Ri between her legs brought a renewed wave of lust, and Gishwan wanted more. She stood up again, this time fighting the hammering in her head. She saw a ceramic urn filled with cool water, and felt better after she drank from it.

  “How do you feel?”

  Gishwan spun and saw Ri standing in the doorway. A beige cotton wrap enveloped her hips, her hair fell on her shoulders and her piercing green eyes shone like the Sun God.

  “I feel a bit tired, and my head hurts.”

  “That will clear.”

  Her smile widened and it set off an alarm in Gishwan’s head. It left before she could latch on to it.

  “That was a new experience for me. The Dog People have many taboos. They forbid tasting the fruits of another woman.”

  “Their customs no longer apply to you. Rest up today and enjoy the time. Tomorrow, we begin your education.” Ri placed her hands on her breasts and licked her lips. She turned and left, shooting a wicked smile over her shoulder at Gishwan.

  ***

  “Is she ours?” asked the dark figure.

  “Too early to tell. She shows the first signs of conversion, but that does not guarantee success. I plan on lying with her again, just to make sure,” said Ri.

  “That has nothing to do with your own pleasure?”

  “Of course it does. You have seen her striking beauty. If I cannot complete the conversion, I will use the body before we dispose of her. Two ravens in your bed instead of one. Can you imagine?”

  The dark figure took a step towards Ri. “You will share my seed?” His manhood began to grow.