Paladin's Oath

by M. H. Johnson

  “Say the words, Sissela,” Lessel whispered in her ear, even as she writhed against his knowing touch. “Tell me what I need to hear, and I will give you sweet bliss for as long as you desire.”

  Sissela bit her lip, eyes scrunched up, and Lessel's gentle strokes transformed instantly into a vicious squeeze, making Sissela cry out in surprised pain.

  “You know what I need to hear, Sissela. Say the words. Stop the pain. Invite the bliss.” His words were sibilant, his smile grim, even as his stroke once again turned softly sensual, and Sissela began to writhe under his touch. She bit her lip, trying to hold back, and at last spoke. “All the poppy juice I need, do you swear it?”

  Lessel gave an indulgent chuckle. "I will give you all the poppy juice I have, my sweet, sweet rose. On that, I promise."

  “Very well,” Sissela said at last, her sigh turning to a groan as Lessel pulled down his trousers and slowly entered her. “All right, my Lessel, I submit to you.”

  “Very good, my sweet poppet. Now say the words.”

  Lady Turnsby cried out, even as her cadence turned once more to that of a woman groaning with pleasure. “Oh gods, Lessel!” Sissela bit her lip in ecstasy as he quickened his pace. “You must promise me that she won’t feel any pain.”

  “Of course, dear Sissela. She will feel no pain with the first three drops extracted. When have I ever broken my promise to you? Say the words, Sissela. Say all the words I need to hear!”

  Sissela scrunched her eyes as if trying to remember a formal phrase through the fog of drug induced euphoria and lust she was feeling. “I, Sissela Turnsby, do give you, Lessel Turnsby, permission to enter my domain and take what you desire.” She cried out at sharp ecstasy, biting her lip. “Oh by the gods, if only I had married you! Promise me, Lessel. Promise me you won’t hurt her.”

  Lessel's eyes blazed in triumph. He grinned wickedly, teasing his lover's nipple with his tongue. "I promise you, your ears shall always remain blissfully free of your youngest daughter's cries, dear Sissela. Think of Onnika as living an existence of such dark bliss as you can scarcely imagine. But your own lessons here have just begun, you naughty thing. Turn over. That's it. Now you must pay for every time you refused my tender ministrations, every time you shook your head." The crack of his smacks to her rear echoed clearly through the room. Lady Sissela started to cry out, though whether in ecstasy or agony, Jess could not tell.

  Twilight yawned. “Seduction, manipulation, domination. Politics as usual, I suppose. Still, quite an interesting request, don’t you think?”

  Jess gazed at her familiar sharply. “He’s seduced her with drugs, and now has her enslaved to poppy extract. Not a nice fellow, Lord Lessel.” Jess blinked, struck by a sudden realization. “He referred to Josiah in the present tense.”

  “Hmm… I take it that is the nephew?”

  Jess shrugged. “Half brother to Onnika, more like. But that is the polite term they use in the family. Lord Turnsby’s bastard get from what I gather, but a sweet looking boy. Very kind, from what Onnika said. Lord Lessel took him in and was raising him as his own. Loved him like he would his own child, Onnika swore to that. Unfortunately, he died of a wasting illness of the blood some six months ago.” Jess frowned. “But Lord Lessel spoke of saving his son even now. Interesting.”

  Twilight quirked an eyebrow. "Indeed. I had a feeling strands of significance were coming into play here and knotting up, as we saw firsthand. I wasn't sure as to who the players were, though. Now we know something, at least." Twilight gazed at the naked pair, now once again deep in the throes of their debauchery. "Well, spanking time appears to be over. I doubt we'll hear anything else of interest unless, of course, you'd like to further watch a game played out by pimps and doxies the world over?"

  Jess shuddered. "I think not. It's quite sad, really. To be so enslaved to drugs that you'd sell your very honor and pride to fulfill your need."

  Twilight nodded. “And let’s not forget the blood of one’s youngest child. That was clearly on the table during their… negotiations.”

  Jess sighed. “Let’s head back.” She turned to her familiar as they strode down the hallway once more, and Jess noted in passing that absolutely nothing of the twisted scene playing out in the library was audible once one stepped past the threshold. One more enchantment warding the library, making it all the more ideal for illicit rendezvous.

  “Twilight?”

  "Yes, Jess?"

  "Promise me, if I don't remember anything when I wake up, you'll remind me? We need to warn Onnika to stay away from that man. Something is very off about him. I'm not sure if Lady Sissela appreciates exactly what she promised, drunk on poppy extract and sex. In any case, it should be Onnika's choice whether or not she shares her blood with anyone, let alone some ‘uncle' who takes such obvious pleasure in seducing and manipulating her mother."

  Twilight grinned. "I agree completely, though I believe you'll remember this dream as clearly as your mother's latest scolding. Lord Lessel is one man who would be quite rightly served, were you to find some pretext to pick a fight with him."

  Jess chuckled in agreement with that. “He does deserve a good thrashing. But still, what if this is all some desperate ploy to save his son? Assuming the boy is even still alive?” Jess sighed. “It's easy to hate him, but how far would any of us go to protect those we love?”

  Twilight paused then, and Jess stopped abruptly, compelled to meet her familiar’s eyes.

  “We’d tear the world asunder, Jess. To save those we love.”

  Jess shivered at that, so terrible was Twilight’s gaze. Fraught with unspeakable knowledge, the weight of horrors Jess couldn’t bear to face.

  Abruptly she shook her head. Her life was simple and beautiful, despite her occasional bout of melancholy and a bit too much brandy, blessed as she was with family she loved. Horrors of a forgotten age she was firmly determined not to remember. How could she? She was only a girl of eighteen summers, after all.

  "Promise me one thing, Twilight," Jess whispered softly, finding herself laying once more upon her bed, and feeling herself start to slip away in truth.

  “And what is that, my queen?” Her familiar teased, for all that his eyes held a weight of such intensity she could barely fathom it.

  Jess smiled. “If my craving for brandy ever gets... out of hand, you will tell me, won't you?”

  Twilight chuckled softly. "Ah, my dear Jess. If only you knew the delicious depths of debauchery and vice the dark and wondrous founder of this nation had herself once delighted in. And no one, my dear Jess, no one would have even dreamed of attempting to manipulate her, no matter how deep into excess she fell. Her courtiers would find their heads cleaved instantly from their bodies, souls relegated to the hottest of Hells, should they have dared any response save utter submission to her slightest whim. And she, like you, was of such stock that her body was in no danger of withering to a decrepit shell, as a result of her vices."

  Jess blinked, amused and puzzled by her familiar's odd answer. “So us bearing witness to the morality play in the library, it wasn't a lesson of sorts?”

  Her familiar raised one bemused eyebrow. “Was it? I would expect you to know better than to so cheaply sell your firstborn's blood for poppy extract, my dear Jess. Even if you did choose to indulge yourself to absurd degrees, with your gifts you could easily harvest entire fields of poppy, regardless of weather or soil. And should any fool attempt to manipulate you the way Lord Lessel had Sissela, I have no doubt that your mithril blade would cleave him neatly in twain before his suddenly disjointed eyes could manage a single blink, and damn all consequences to Hell."

  Jess sighed, feeling oddly relieved. “So it's my choice, in other words. You will accept my choice, but the consequences I must deal with, by means elegant or savage, as I choose.”

  Twilight grinned. “As if it were ever otherwise, my dear Jess. And till you blossom with get of your own, it effects only yourself. And you, my beloved Jess, are very much a fertile yo
ung woman in the bloom of youth. For that reason alone, I would caution temperance, even in your excesses. But, as always, the choice is yours and yours alone.”

  Jess gave a solemn nod. “To drink with others in celebration, when there is cause to celebrate. But never in isolation, simply to forget. I think, perhaps, that shall be the path I will strive to follow.”

  Twilight nodded. “And I wouldn't be surprised at all if your tippling hides other cravings. The darkness and wonder of Shadow calls to you even now, does it not?”

  Jess grimaced and nodded. “To my shame, it does. So often I wake from the most horrific of nightmares, choking on my own screams. But other nights I sleep completely through, only wake up with this terrible yearning, haunted by dreams of losing myself in wildest adventure, and half the horror I feel upon waking isn't merely for the things I've done, but the craving to savor that madness once more.”

  “Understandable,” Twilight assured. “You went from embracing the darkest echelons of Shadow, drenched in hideous wonder, drinking deep of sweetest power, to utter abstinence, refusing even to leave your family lands for months on end. I would not be surprised, my dear Jess, if your thirst for brandy hides cravings far darker. Quench the latter and your thirst for strong drink will be as nothing, until months or years pass between Delves once more.”

  But Jess was already sinking deep into sleep once more, her purring kitty nestled to her side, her final thoughts to warn her sweet Onnika to have a care, that there were far worse people out there than her impulsive new lover with a penchant for duels and a taste for apple brandy.

  6

  “Jess!” Heart pounding in sudden helpless terror, Jess bucked, feeling almost as if she was clawing through a thick scum of ice to smash through to consciousness above. With a desperate gasp and a shout, Jess tore herself out of sleep, breath ragged, eyes bright and wild. Her blade was unsheathed and in hand.

  She blinked. Her room was quiet. Empty. Twilight regarded her with his brilliant sapphire eyes.

  “Trouble. You must brace yourself for the struggle to come, my Jess,” Twilight counseled, even as she heard the ragged screams of her sister in the adjoining room, heard the ringing gong of the great manor’s alarm bell calling all the men to muster.

  Quick as thought, Jess propelled herself out of her bedroom, ready for any horror that faced her, hoping only that her loved ones were safe. When she dashed into the common foyer she breathed a great sigh of relief. No destruction, no splatters of blood. Her sister and mother were not gazing at her with dead, accusing eyes, torn asunder by nameless apparitions mocking Jess with their terrible laughter at her failure to protect those she loved, the way they so often did at the edge of sleep, awful fears that never ceased to torment her, night after night.

  Her greatest fear was that one day she would not see the danger coming. She would be too late, and have to live with the memory of her friends and family being butchered before her very eyes, haunted with the horror of it for all her days.

  Never.

  She would die first.

  A second nameless scream. Jess flashed a look behind her. Her mother’s quarters were open, the doorway empty. The entrance room that served as a discrete miniature barracks guarding the front door was open, half asleep guards just stumbling into their mail shirts and packed bucklers. So slow. So damn slow they were. Yet at least the front entrance behind them was secure. Her head snapped around to face her sister’s door. Where the screams had emanated from. She could tell without even touching the wood that it was locked shut. “Open!” Jess cried, and Apple’s door slammed open wide, the iron lock sent skittering across the floor.

  Apple and her mother both stood by the window, holding each other and shaking. A shriek from her sister, startled at the sudden opening of her door, gazing at Jess in momentary horror before shuddering in sudden relief.

  “Jess,” Apple cried from her mother’s arms. “It's horrible! We have to get out. We have to get away, now!” Jess’s mother, a far cry from the intimidating matron who had sent a humbled eldest daughter slinking to her bed, was now wide eyed and shaking, a terrified woman holding her youngest for support as much as to comfort. So fragile and vulnerable. Jess’s heart melted in aching sympathy for her mother and sister, and a fierce hot hatred began to burn, that anyone would dare to terrify her family so.

  Quick as thought Jess was by their side, blade resheathed but hand on hilt, ready to redraw in an instant, a skill she had once practiced for countless hours as a Squire.

  “Oh gods, oh gods Jess, what is that?” Apple’s hand shook, and the low groan emanating from her mother, an animal’s visceral terror, shook Jess to her core.

  Almost as much as seeing the monstrosity below. A hideous amalgamation of bull and man, massive in stature, lurching towards the manor with chilling deliberation. It suddenly twisted its massive skull, seeming to peer right through their window, locking gazes with Jess, crimson orbs glowing with darkest hunger peering deeply into her own.

  It sensed her. Somehow it knew she was there.

  And it roared in challenge, a cry so fierce that the window before them rattled.

  Jess felt her heart start to hammer. Its gaze of hunger was for her, and her alone. The awful minotaur, for what else could it be, seemed hardly to pay attention to the armsman even at that moment charging the terrible beast with his spear.

  Jess cringed as the massive creature contemptuously slapped the weapon away, shattering the shaft, the doomed guardsman's thrust failing even to connect with the thick bristly hide covering the torso. The beast roared on cloven feet even as it lashed out, grabbing the screaming guardsmen with both of its great clawed hands, and impaled the struggling man with its terrible horns.

  Jess hissed, hearing the crack of shattered ribs from her sister's window, the guardsman's gaze locking with her own. Baby blue eyes wide with horror as the roaring minotaur shook his horned head savagely, the eviscerated corpse shredding free of its horns in great bloody chunks.

  Apple’s screamed. The terrible beast locked eyes with Jess once again and roared.

  Jess shook with fury. She recognized the challenge, and would answer.

  “My ladies! It is not safe here! Come, we must get you out of here! Madness has descended over the lands. The skies turn ill green. I fear we must leave this place, or be forever lost!”

  Jess spun around, gazing into the panicked eyes of Johnathan, the head of their squad of guards. His face paled and he backed away from Jess, hands raised in placation. Strange, Jess thought, even as she snapped out commands of her own.

  “No, Lieutenant. There will be no fleeing! Anyone unprepared who goes out there is meat for the crows. Johnathan, I need you and the men here. Guard my mother and sister. Keep them safe. I will ward these rooms. No creature unclean will be able to enter, I promise you that.”

  “Jessica de Calenbry!” Her mother cried out, whether in protest or alarm Jess could not tell, and she dared not take the chance that there was any confusion in the order of precedence, the power of names she was to invoke. For already, she had a terrible sense of what must be done.

  Solemnly, she lowered her own fierce gaze to meet her mother’s panicked one. “Mother. Now, more than at any other time in our lives, you must trust me. I love you with all my heart, and you know all too well my weaknesses. The things in which I am lacking, the person I will never be. But you must trust now in my strengths! The person I have always striven to be. The woman I was forged with sweat, training, tears, and battle to be all my life!”

  Jess's implacable gaze did not weaken. She refused to look away, however much her mother willed it. "What are the cards of my birth, Mother?"

  Agda shuddered, gazing at Jess with haunted eyes. "Oh gods, Jess, no. Please, don't ask that of me."

  "Name them, Mother."

  “Jess…”

  “Say it!”

  Her mother took a deep breath, and composed herself. “The Knight Errant. The Seven Sisters. The Endless Journey.” Sh
e looked away and whispered the last. “And Death, Jess. The fourth card placed on top of the other three was that terrible card.” Agda began to tremble, her gaze haunted. “The midwife turned pale as a sheet. She swore her decks never held that card. Never! I screamed at her. I threatened to have her stoned. It was such a terrible thing I did, acting like such a dreadful monster myself, and the poor woman just shook in terror and refused to move.”

  Agda flashed a bitter smile. "I drew the cards then, my Jessica. I swore I would risk the wrath of the very angels above, if it would change my own daughter's dark fate. And to think, even the day before I thought it but a silly superstition, just a sweet little game to play like so many others, around the birth of a newborn." Agda shook her head. "I drew the Angel of Lost Children, the Tree of Fate, the Sword of the Paladin, and… yes, Jess. The last card I drew was… Midnight." She shuddered. "Which, aligned with the tree serves as its opposite. Life, and death. In both hands."

  Agda took a deep breath. The tears streaming freely down her cheeks. “But someone must have been pulling a trick, cruel and vicious! The next day I opened the very deck of cards the midwife swore on her life that she had brought. There was no knight, no sword, no symbol of death!” Her laugh was shaky. “The days of war were gone long ago. It is a time of peace! The king in his wise influence sought to discourage restless nobles who would use the Fates as an excuse for insurrection. No symbols of war were to be permitted upon cards of birth or play, no matter how noble their guise! And no mother wants the symbol of death hovering over her baby daughter!” Agda cried. “One hundred cards in every deck, and no deck that I have ever shuffled has had those ancient symbols before or since!”

  "And so it was, and so it will ever be," Twilight said quietly. "Any mother will try to protect her kittens, dear Jess. No one begrudges her that. But your destiny is a far more terrible one than she could ever fathom." Her familiar turned to gaze up at Jess solemnly. "It is you, Jess, who must choose and accept your fate, each time the wheel turns. And you alone."