"Oh," said Freetrick. "Well, anyway you think I'm right?"
Bloodbyrn made a gentile shrug. "I admit that I am rather surprised that my lord emerged the victor from the confrontation."
"Me too." Then Freetrick's eyes widened. "Unless he was just needling me. Which is of course what he was doing—playing his stupid game! And now someone's dead because of it!" Freetrick indicated the body on the slab, who sighed a black-tinged breath. "So why was this guy here attacking me at the same time?" Wondered Freetrick.
"Where else would my lord obtain the power to combat Feerix?" Answered Bloodbyrn, "Now may we go?"
Wrothgrinn flexed his fingers and the network of black lines dissolved back into mist. "The corpse will soon lose the ability of speech. Unless my lord requires more of him."
Which would require another monster to be killed. Re-animation was expensive. Freetrick shook his head, "no." Then he looked again at the corpse. "Hey, you've been dead. Can you tell me what happens after you—"
Wrothgrinn held up a hand. "We do not ask such questions in front of outsiders." He leaned closer, shielding his mouth from Bloodbyrn as he whispered. "Everyone thinks we should already know."
"oh."
"Well then," said Bloodbyrn. "Shall we be off then?"
"Okay," Freetrick turned to Wrothgrinn. "What do we do with the…uh?" He indicated the corpse, which had stopped moving".
"Oh, the lizard-men will enjoy it." Wrothgrinn bowed deep. "Unless my lord has some special request..?"
"Not in any way. No."
"I await your return, my lord!" Wrothgrinn called after them. "Come back in a week! Then you shall see a sight so cute it will melt your very SOUL! Ha ha!"
Chapter the Eleventh
In which the Ultimate Fiend experiences Romantic Dilemmas
"I do not trust him," said Bloodbyrn.
Freetrick shook his head as they crossed the floor of the main laboratory. "Why, because he likes my taste in baby animals?"
"Exactly," Bloodbyrn hissed, "he is obviously dangerously deviant."
"Come on, Bloodbyrn." Freetrick said, "your dad told me he spends fifteen minutes every morning practicing not blinking. Compared to the rest of the people in this place, liking cats is pretty harmless."
"Harmless," hissed Bloodbyrn, glaring at a scuttling servant goblin, "exactly. What purpose do they have but to be held, and stroked, and admired, and…and…" she shut her eyes and shuddered. "Oh, they are horrible."
"Tempest above, Bloodbyrn," said Freetrick as they passed into the laboratory's receiving room and out into the corridor beyond, "you should see someone about this problem you have."
But Bloodbyrn wasn't listening. "No, because horrible is Skrean, horrible is good, and they are bad not bad like in Skrea, but…" She took a deep breath. "My lord, I apologize. Those…" her eyes darted up to his, then away, "…animals are not Evil. They are its opposite, the antithesis of everything we live for. They are a temptation. No, an abomination, a symbol of what we must at all costs destroy." She took another deep breath, "I never imagined that such things might exist inside this very castle. Once this business is over, I shall deal with them myself. Yes."
Freetrick shook his head in mystification and kept walking.
"First we have to go back to my apartments for reinforcements." Freetrick gritted his teeth. "Then we go after Feerix."
"There is no need," Bloodbyrn clattered down the steps to the next level below. There she turned and pressed three fingers against what appeared to be featureless stone. The hidden door popped open and she ducked into the staircase beyond. "I have summoned my own bodyguards to guide and protect us."
Freetrick, as he descended the steps behind her, saw the two ogres were waiting for them at the door, a red one and a blue one. Freetrick didn't recognize them, but Bloodbyrn nodded to them and they grinned back at her.
"Where's Skystarke?" Freetrick said.
"Likely back in whatever grim lair he haunts when not in use." Bloodbyrn spoke quickly, shedding nervousness like the cold from Wrothgrinn's meat-locker. "My ogres will suffice, I am sure."
They came to a door, and Freetrick rushed to follow as Bloodbyrn strode through. Then there were a few moments of awkwardness as everyone shuffled around so that the ogres could go first and lead the way. "I have got to get the layout of this place memorized."
"Indeed," said Bloodbyrn, "because my lord is not wasting nearly enough time on non-essentials at present."
Freetrick considered bringing up the contusion swatches and blood cauldrons, but didn't.
"Let us go see your brother, drive nails through his nipples or whatever it is you intend to do to chastise him, and then get on with the un-wedding preparations."
Freetrick sighed.
"I believe I have been indulgent enough of my Lord's little diversions," continued Bloodbyrn, "but now there are more important matters to consider, matters such as—"
"Girls!" Freetrick cried.
They had rounded a corner, and there they were, waiting, with a huge furry animal curled up at their feet. One was tall and slender, dressed in simple leather shorts and shirt. The other…
"Oh it's uh…hey." Freetrick tried to remember the woman's name. It wasn't easy, since he had been distracted in the Dark Council at the time. He was distracted now, but not because an arena full of sociopaths was glaring at him.
She was wearing a chitinous black corset that made Freetrick think that someone had taken a rather stylish vase and filled it to the brim with breasts.
"Lady Ashwing," said Bloodbyrn. Her voice could have kept a mastodon's meat fresh for a week.
"Lady Bloodbyrn," Ashwing dipped in a curtsy. Any moment the vase would spill and things would get very interesting. "Fancy meeting you here. I was merely out taking my pet for a stroll, and here you are. How happy I am that I could meet your paramour and yourself on this fine black day."
"Indeed," said Bloodbyrn, "you are fortunate, Lady Ashwing."
Freetrick shuddered involuntarily at her tone, which now threatened to condense the very air into dry ice and liquid nitrogen. Even the big furry monster shivered, but Ashwing seemed not to notice the murder in Bloodbyrn's eyes. She raised a hand to her spectacular cleavage and Freetrick noticed the black chain that extended from her wrist to the…throat of the tall girl?
"Indeed!" Ashwing looked up at Freetrick with innocent eyes. The chain tinkled. "I am only desolated to miss the opportunity to be first to congratulate my lord on his fabulous performance in the Council of Villainy this morning."
Freetrick blinked. "Actually," he said, "you are the first one. The first one to say anything positive—uh, that is, my other companions have focused mostly on constructive criticism so far."
"Really?" Ashwing cast a glance at Bloodbyrn, "Well, then I would like to say how much I, for one, enjoyed your performance, my lord."
"Not nearly as much as we are enjoying yours, darling." Bloodbyrn said.
The two women smiled at each other in a way that made Freetrick take a step back. "Um," he said, hands upraised, "um thank you, Ashwing. Nice to meet you and your pet." He nodded toward the catlike creature, which grinned at him.
"My…oh!" Ashwing followed his gaze. "You mean the Kaimeera? Oh how droll, my lord. It is merely my…bodyguard I suppose you could say. No, my lord. My pet is this one, of course." She rattled the black chain and the girl glared red-hot daggers at her. "Thank you ever so much for her, my lord."
Freetrick stared at the girl, who, now that he looked more closely, was bound hand and neck by the chain. She looked back at him with an expression of absolute hatred in her large, silver-gray eyes. "But she's..." Then Ashwing's words registered. "Thank me?"
"Of course!" Ashwing giggled. "I confess that when my lord commanded that this creature not die in the Audience Pit, I was somewhat perplexed. But then, my lord, upon leaving the Villainous Council meeting, after my lord's adventure with the assassin, well…" she brushed the girl's cheek affectionately, "call me good and m
erciful if she did not leap right out of the shadows at me. It was quite as much exercise as I had had all week, but I subdued her."
"That was the girl fighting the monsters in the Council meeting?" Freetrick could only echo, stupidly. "But her guards were supposed to take her somewhere I could interview her."
"Oh, she killed her guards and escaped of course," said Ashwing, admiringly. "Yes, she is magnificent, isn't she. Pure, un-life-twisted Do-Gooder stock, and she killed two ogres. Apparently that is her job. Or purpose or calling. That much she told me before I stopped allowing her to speak." She turned to Bloodbyrn. "I am so pleased with my lord's gift."
"How nice for you," Bloodbyrn said.
Freetrick tried to think. "Uh. You know you really shouldn't…"
"Yes, my lord?" Ashwing turned back toward him and Freetrick found his attention shot all to hell.
"Well," he stammered at Ashwing's décolletage. "Uh, Bloodbyrn and the, you know, I. We were all, sort of, doing something."
"Going to face your vicious half brother, Dark Prince Feerix of the Sharpened Thumb?" Ashwing said.
"How would you know our plans?" Bloodbyrn's voice was suddenly razor-edged.
Ashwing laughed, "My lord Feerborg was attacked by a necromancer in the corridor outside the Audience Pit. The only necromancers in Clouds-Gather are members of the royal family, and the only members of the royal family who were not in attendance at the council yesterday were Lord Wrothgrinn and Dark Prince Feerix. It's obvious, isn't it?"
"Yes," sighed Freetrick, "obvious. But we are going to confront Feerix, yes, so. Uh."
"So I shall come with you." Ashwing clasped her hands before her bosom and jiggled.
Freetrick dragged his eyes upward. "Well…I'm not sure that would be—"
"Of course. I would be glad to assist in the many ways that are at my disposal. Her hands parted to indicate her slave, her monster, and then came to rest over her breasts, probably to indicate herself.
"Such help will not be necessary," Bloodbyrn said as looked down at the monster.
"Yes," he said, nodding toward Bloodbyrn, "as much as we appreciate your offer of help and your…giant cat?"
At Freetrick's word, a black-tipped ear twitched, muscles shifted under the plush, yellow ochre pelt, and the long body uncoiled to raise the monstrous head.
"Kaimeera, my lord," corrected Ashwing, "the Kaimeera, in fact. It is not a cat."
"I see," said Freetrick. Indeed, the head was not remotely cat-like. Huge eyes blinked over dolphin's smile and slitted pupils contracted as the monster rose up onto its front paws. Sitting on its haunches, with its forelegs straight, it was nearly as tall as Bloodbyrn.
"Um," said Freetrick, "hello there, boy." He glanced at Ashwing. "What does it…do?"
"Well, many things—" Ashwing began to answer, but she stopped as the monster made a muffled sort of growl at her. He stopped as the enormous eyes slid back to regard Freetrick, and the Kaimeera opened its mouth.
The dolphin's smile split, opened, gaped, yawned. There was a foul whiff of rotting flesh that grew to an overpowering stench. Teeth glistened, wider that Freetrick's thumbs, triangular and serrated. A fleshy tongue writhed. And at the center of that maw, there was a face.
"Hello there, yourself, Fiend," it said, "and don't call me 'boy,' okay?" Muscles longer than most of Freetrick's body slid across each other as the Kaimeera shifted its weight. Freetrick took an involuntary step backward.
"Oh, I'm…sorry—"
There was another dangerous sliding of muscles as the great feline body shrugged. "hey, don't worry about it. It's nice to see a King of Evil who's willing to apologize." The monster's body stiffened and the face between its jaws smiled. It was as if the monster had swallowed a man feet first, and hadn't quite gotten the whole meal down its throat. Disgusted, Freetrick could see the rubbery flesh of the esophagus pulse and squeeze around the face's forehead, ears, and chin. "I told Lady Ashwing that you wouldn't mind the informality," the face was saying, apparently completely at ease with being mostly swallowed, " 'No bows,' I said, 'no great slimy Despot of the ninth Chasm of the Underworld, no blood sacrifices. Just good ol' Rationalist charm when you talk to the Ultimate Fiend.' And she was all 'I'll believe that when I see it.' And I was all 'you're striking right you will.'"
Freetrick quirked an eyebrow as, for the first time, he started to consider the Kaimeera's speech, rather than the half-swallowed face that did the speaking.
"Oh yes," Ashwing clapped her hands, jingling the chain and causing the Monster Killer to grimace. "I forgot that of course the Kaimeera would be able to speak Rationalist!"
The eyes of the Kaimeera's swallowed face twinkled at Freetrick. "The very most rational," it agreed. "You like?"
Despite himself, Freetrick smiled. "Yeah. It's good to hear someone normal again."
The man inside the monster chuckled over Bloodbyrn's snort. "I knew it. I knew it!" The monster swung its head around to face Ashwing. "you owe me a raw liver."
Ashwing smiled and patted the monster on the head. "I am so glad my lord finds some cruel satisfaction…hm, what would a Rationalist say in this situation?"
"Glad you like it," said the Kaimeera.
"Glad you like it. Oh, how concise!" Ashwing clapped and made a little jump. Freetrick nearly groaned aloud. "Oh, it makes one feel as if one is helping the entire kingdom when one helps the Ultimate Fiend."
One of the ogres made gagging sounds.
"Yes…" Freetrick said as he tried to look from the Kaimeera to Ashwing's face without encountering her cleavage along the way. "Thanks. But Bloodbyrn and I are sort of in a hurry. Let's talk later?"
Ashwing's eyes brightened.
"Oh of course!" she bounced, "I would love to speak later with my lord," her voice dropped, "and at much…greater length."
"I can guarantee, Lady Ashwing, your conversation will seem to last for a torment-filled eternity," said Bloodbyrn.
Freetrick was trying to figure out whether that comment had been a threat to torture Ashwing or a dig at his conversation skills when Ashwing answered, "but what I wish to now is not talk, but offer my help. Mine, and my pet Monster Killer's. She's quite fast you know. For a Do-Gooder."
Before Freetrick could tell her to release the girl, Ashwing rushed on. "And the Kaimeera's help too, of course" She indicated the tawny animal at her feet. "It's been telling me so much about The Rationalist Union. I am sure it could help my lord with life in the Castle. And with defeating your vile half-brother, my lord."
One of Bloodbyrn's ogres—the blue one— leaned down and rumbled something into her ear. "Indeed," she said, then turned to Freetrick and Ashwing, "we are already behind schedule, my lord. If you wish to castigate Dark Prince Feerix, we must be gone at once." She began walking even as she finished the sentence. "We do not have time to discuss this matter."
"Then it is fortunate then that I can both speak and walk at once," Ashwing flashed Freetrick a sharp, narrow-eyed smile and turned to lead her slave down the corridor. Freetrick rushed to catch up.
Behind him, the Kaimeera rolled its enormous yellow eyes and padded after them.
"So, we shall kill Feerix, shall we?" Ashwing slowed to walk beside Freetrick.
"Well," said Freetrick, "not---"
"Might I say that, I for one, shall be glad to be rid of the scoundrel," Ashwing interrupted. "I mean, there is properly maintaining one's evil persona, and then there is just being mean."
"Oh. Is there?"
"Oh yes," Ashwing nodded, and Freetrick could not help but notice what the movement did to her breasts. "You know, they say he's not even pure Skrean," she continued in an undertone. "His mother, the Ignoble Lady Batclaw, now murdered, may she writhe forever in torment, came from South Ftaghn, and they say that her father…well, it is well known that old Dark Lord Kthulog practiced erotic masochism as a hobby. Not that there is anything wrong with that, my lord," she said, completely misinterpreting Freetrick's expression, "but I am sure my lord knows tha
t the Bulwarks are positively infested with wendigos."
"…uh, is that so?" Said Freetrick.
"Yes!" She jiggled again. "And, well, when one is a masochist and one has so many opportunities to find monsters especially designed to be sadists…you know many wendigos look just like real humans."
"My dear Dark Princess," Bloodbyrn's voice penetrated Freetrick's confused silence, "as much as I appreciate the entirely proper practice of sewing discord and chaos throughout the world, I propose that my lord has better things to do than listen to salacious gossip."
"Oh yes," Ashwing jingled her slave's chain playfully, "I forgot we have no need to resort to gossip here, for we have in our presence one who has experienced Feerix's…proclivities at first hand. So tell us, Bloodbyrn, what end of the lash does the Dark Prince prefer?"
Bloodbyrn's muttering was fortunately indecipherable.
"Now my lord," Ashwing said, "I only wanted to say how much I…how much I admire you, my lord." The honorific was almost a purr. "The way you killed that assassin? And the way you left the Council…well!" She placed the tips of her fingers at the place where the tops of her breasts merged with the smooth skin of her sternum and sighed.
"Oh," said Freetrick, trying not to look at her fingers, sternum, or breasts, "you liked it?"
"Yess," she sighed, "Pretending to cast aside evil like that, marvelous."
"Oh," said Freetrick, "Right. Yes, I did, didn't I?" He glanced at Bloodbyrn's stiff back. The ogres walking ahead of her were both looking over their shoulders at him. And smiling. "Maybe we should catch up with Bloodbyrn."
"Let her slow down if she wishes to be included in this parlay." Ashwing looked up at him from under sleepy lids. "Now your actions, my lord. They have added the delicious spice of chaos to the intrigues here."
The Kingdoms of Evil Page 31
