Slave of the Fae: Chapter 15

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It was hard to walk as I followed the whisp. It was hard to breath. I ignored everything around me, trying to bring the pain under some kind of control.

A running monologue was going through my brain. Breath in, breath out, concentrate on the cool air entering and warm air leaving. Take a step. Take another. Focus on the swishing of my skirt, how it hides my legs, No one will see my knee’s shaking, or the twitching of my muscles as the pain flows through my body. The glove, coated on the inside with useless healing sap, hides my injury. They’ll only see that I’m making a more interesting show for them. The Fae love shows, they love blood. I’m going to give them what they want.

The music hadn’t left my mind. It expanded. Every step was a note I felt in my bones.

Step. Die.

Step. Die.

Step. Die.

Step. Die.

The short walk went on for an eternity. I wanted Crier at my side. I wanted Sam.

A curtain of rain spread open, the drops bending to form a rounded arch allowing me to step through. There was polite applause, murmurs rose up as they saw I didn’t have my sword. The lower creatures actually flew, walked and swam through the air to point at my waist, their voices stayed at the same half understood mumbling I could barely hear, no matter how close they came.

I walked along a path of glowing moss, my slippered feet gently sank into the soft moss with every step creating clouds of pollen that made my skin itch and almost made me sneeze. The path curved and circled, sometimes branching into two, three even nine paths, and I had to walk it correctly, stepping on every part of it. My brain struggled to remember the two lessons I’d had, it wasn’t easy with the cloud of pain. Stay to the left. Move left, at every chance, if there was more than one path, and I came to it again, choose the first left I hadn’t walked down before until I reached the last one. After doing several loops that changed direction without actually turning around, having gravity change so I walked in a spiral between creatures that looked like as beautiful as angels and others more terrifying than demons, with faces of mist and fire dive bombing me to get a better look, trying to remember which path I’d taken was a maze of missteps. It helped a little that several times when I made the wrong choice, a fae would start to laugh, letting me step back and choose the right one.

From the glimpses I caught of Calandri, who was sitting on a granite stool a few meters from the Lord and Lady, I was not making a good impression. I tried not to care. But I still felt obligated to her, a needy little voice in my brain told me to do better. Biting my lip, trying to at least take my mind off the pain in my hand, I tried to concentrate even harder only on my steps, and not the things around me.

Finally I reached the central dais, the nobility of steading was sitting in a variety of chairs made from wood, rock, jewels, fire, ice, water, leaves, and more. There were four levels each one featuring higher ranked fae. Each one had different ritual. This was something Paula had trained me for.

I stopped at the edge of the moss, bowing my head. I tried to speak confidently, but my voice shook with pain. “I beg leave to enter your presence.”

No one said anything, a sign that I could move forward. Holding my head high, I stepped forward, giving a small curtsy to first one side and then the other. Holding onto my skirt with my ruined hand was so agonizing I felt tears in my eyes, but I did it. Standing up I walked back to the edge of the moss, and did the whole routine again. And then I did a third time. My hand was shaking by the time I could advance.

I put my foot on the first copper step leading to the next level. “I am the fighter of Mistress of the Forests Flame, Bringer… of Ash, and Renew- Renewal of Life, Calandri, I demand entrance to your presence, as is her right.” Again there was silence.

I went to the next step. “I am the fighter for the Bitter Winds Steading. I demand entrance to you presence, as… is my right.” Silence.

The last step, I was sweating from nervousness and pain. “I am Alex, the fighter and human of Bitter Winds Steading, servant of Calandri. I demand entrance to your presence.”

All eyes were on me as I walked forward. I curtsied deeper than before facing the Lord and Lady who were still well above me, holding the position for a count of thirty. I turned to the right, and did the same, followed by the left, and finally to those behind me. My fingers cramped by the time I was done.

Going to the final steps, which were pale silver, as if moonlight had been given shape, held by the thinnest of spider webs, I curtsied and bowed at the same time, my forehead touching the cool metal. Raising my head, I looked at the feet of the Lord and Lady. “My Lord. My Lady. I Alex, having sworn… fealty to Calandri, and to you both. As your fighter and loyal servant, I… humbly beg your leave to, to… come forward.”

I didn’t dare raise my head, but I could from the fire raging around Calandri’s ankles my stumbles were not going unnoticed. No one said anything, but I could hear laughter from the fae below. I stepped forward and knelt down spreading my skirt around me. The floor that was becoming colder by the second, bowing my head, I waited. I wasn’t sure what I was waiting for, Paula had told me to simply wait until I was spoken to or dismissed.

“Calandri,” the Lord said, his voice moaned like the wind of a blizzard. “Your pet is still not well trained.”

“I beg your forgiveness, my Lord. I am sure her fighting skills will prove most entertaining at least,” she said. I could tell from the clip of her voice that she was furious.

The Lady spoke, “Is this the fight where she dies? Or was that the last one?”

“No, the last was when she defeated the upstart servant with a whip,” replied the Lord.

“Wasn’t her skin blue for that?”

“I believe it was red, and she almost lost her head.”

“Wait, isn’t she a dancer? I remember her dancing on snowflakes soon.”

I kept my head down. Time had so little meaning here, I didn’t even try to understand what they were talking about. Although the casual way they talked of my death and near death experiences didn’t help the growing agony as my hand began to freeze. They continued talking about my fights that had had never happened to me, my deaths and victories. I couldn’t feel my knees by then, and my head ached from the cold.

“Whatever she will be doing, she has yet to greet the honoured envoy,” the Lady said, even more coldly than usual.

I stared at the floor, totally lost. As the silence stretched out, I glanced up. All eyes were on me, I couldn’t see a single glimmer of kindness or sympathy, there was fury, anger, contempt and amusement, and it was all aimed at me. I didn’t even know who the envoy was. Was it the Duke with the body of a Bobcat, stars for eyes and black holes for spots? Or maybe the Duchess who was made of glittering lights and six angel wings? The man covered in scales could possibly be the envoy. I didn’t know what rank he had, but the sunlight shining over his shoulders probably meant he was powerful. Then I saw what I needed to see, Crier. It was in a different sheathe, what looked like boiling blood, at the waist of a naked dog headed man. But now that I was looking at it, I could feel the familiar tug, begging me to use it. I winced as my hand tried to curl as if holding it already.

“I’m very sorry, honoured envoy. I was not taught how to greet you,” I said.

Calandri’s flames flared. The room filled with laughter. This was going to end badly, but there was nothing I could do. The Lord raised a hand, silencing the room instantly. “Calandri, I hope your poorly trained pet provides decent entertainment.”

“It will my Lord. One way or another,” she promised, heat dried the sweat of fear from my body as she spoke.

“Let us see what you can do human,” the Lord said, sounding bored with the everything.

As he spoke an icy wind picked me up, throwing me into an arena that hadn’t been there when I entered the room. I hit a dirt floor hard. Instinctively I rolled with it, trying to land safely. My right hand was crushed between my body and the soft earth. There was a scream, through the haze of pain, I realized it was my voice. Every roll jolted my hand, by the time I stopped I breathing was about the only thing I was capable of, and even that was a struggle. But there was a howl from something that didn’t sound like a dog, or even a wolf.

Somehow I got to my feet. Barely able to see through the curtain of tears, I pulled the fan out of my dress simply breaking the thin golden chain that looped around my neck like a necklace. The tiny sting on my neck was like spitting into the ocean of pain I was feeling. I was shaking, as I raised the stone edged fan behind me, my arm stretched out, ready to bring it down on the monster running through the audience. My useless hand, was held up to protect my chest and throat. I bent my knees, so I could dodge or kick. Or take a hit if there was no other choice.

My knees felt like water as the creature appeared. It was a dog, which almost looked normal. But its’ teeth were made of black glass, and it was the size of a small car. Adrenaline rushed through me, the pain faded a little enough for me to concentrate on the fact that I was going die. It saw me and didn’t waste any time, a cloud of dirt was kicked up as it rushed me snarling like a runaway train.

It was like fighting Sam, I couldn’t let it hit me. Dodge and weave. If I had Crier I’d feel confident, but using a small fan held in my off hand, I was going to need a miracle.

I waited until the last second before swinging to the side. It’s teeth actually snapped on the flowing tassels of my sleeve, which tore free. I brought the heavy fan down on its’ back leg. It was like hitting a metal post with a metal baseball bat. The dog whined, but it didn’t slow down in the slightest. I could hear its’ claws tearing into the rock under the dirt to turn faster and sharper than something its’ size should be able to.

Even as I tried to avoid the snapping teeth, I backhanded it with the fan on the nose. That got a yelp of pain and the animal backed away snarling, shaking its’ head in pain. The intelligent eyes watched me, as I put some distance between us. It focused on my right hand, which looked limp even hidden in the sleeve. It barked, shaking the room. I had to plant my feet to keep my balance as I was hit with a blast of air, that smelled of rotten meat and covered me in slimy spit.

Before I could even blink my eyes clear, the dog was in the air and practically on top of me. I had no time do anything except drop, sprawling as flat as possible, hoping it would keep going. There was a loud thump less than a meter past me, and a tail thicker than most trees, hit my back. It wasn’t too hard but it wasn’t expected. Using my legs alone I pushed myself out from under the spiky fur, while lifting myself on my elbows. The dog chose that minute to stand, freeing me from its’ tail. I rocketed forward, slamming my face into the ground.

I heard it snarl, rolling onto my back, there was only a mass of teeth and a barbed tongue. Bringing up the fan, I threw all of my weight behind it, there was a crack as my fan hit the dogs jaw, pushing it to the side with a whine. The short fur of the muzzle brushed my shoulder even as its bruised nose hit the ground. Not thinking, I jabbed the fan into the saucer like eye. As it jumped away, I almost lost my weapon. I didn’t, but I was jerked hard enough that I thought my shoulder was going to be dislocated.

It landed on the other side of the square, pawing it’s ruined right eye. Unsteadily I got to my feet and flicked away the slime covering my fan and hand. We were both wounded now, but it could still win a lot more easily than me. We faced each other moving in a circle, never taking our eyes off the other, even as I tried to get on its’ blind side, it would just retreat or hop forward forcing me to back off. It soon tired of the face off, and ran at me keeping low to the ground. I moved to its blind spot, but it was obviously expecting that.

Twisting, the hand size teeth grazed my thigh and hip. I felt the teeth splinter, embedding themselves into my muscles. I hit its neck in turn, but the fur was so thick there the dog didn’t even feel it. Limping, bleeding and in even more pain I hobbled away, the monster howled in victory even as it turned to face me again.

My dress was badly ripped, I almost tripped on it as it caught around my feet. Cursing I grabbed it with my bad hand, tearing it away. The fabric tore easily, and before the dog could attack again, my legs were free. Everyone could see my underwear, but honestly at that point it was the least of my worries. Kneeling, ready to jump, I picked up the ruined skirt, pushing my useless limb through it so it hung like a matadors cape. Now it wouldn’t be able to see which way I was likely to jump.

It came at me again, running low. Jerking the cape to the left, I moved to the right. The monster fell for it. I spun on my toes, bringing the fan down on its skull. The dog hit the ground, stunned. I didn’t have a chance to enjoy the victory, my fan shattered leaving me holding a handle, some fabric and half the stone frame.

I didn’t let it slow me down, hitting it again. The stone shattered completely, barely denting the dogs’ skull. It growled and whined, rising to its feet. I had to limp away, holding a useless enamel handle. I was about to die, and I knew if I had Crier, I’d have killed this thing in a minute or two. Yet the fury refused to let me go easily. Even as the dog shook itself trying to recover, I wrapped the remains of the skirt around my arm, padding it as much as possible.

It roared again, charging me in what we both knew would be the last attack, unless I wanted to simply dodge until I fell over from exhaustion. I braced myself, holding my pitiful padded armour before me, and the enamel handle in my off hand. There was no strategy in its attack, it saw my arm protecting my neck and head and aimed for that. I purposefully waited a split second too long so there was no chance for it to avoid my own strike. I almost made it.

A single tooth tore into my ruined hand. The pain was so intense I felt myself blacking out. I couldn’t even scream, my throat was paralysed. But I’d worked through pain, my left hand was moving through the air with all my strength behind it. The pitiful, cracked and broken handle went into the weeping eye socket and kept going, straight into the monsters brain.

It fell, I fell with it, dragged down by the tooth that pierced my hand.

I wanted to throw up from pain.

All around me I heard applause. The monsters body disappeared, leaving my hand bloody injured and in agony, but free. Somehow, through the red haze of pain, I saw Paula glaring at me. The fury rose in me once more. On muscles that seemed more like rubber, I got to my feet.

From the noise, it seemed like I’d impressed them after my humiliation. It didn’t seem real, more like a dream. All I could think about was that I could go to the infirmary heal my wounds and then collapse in bed until the curse on my hand wore off. I deserved it. But as I took a few hesitant steps to the edge of the ring, the envoy appeared before me, in all his naked, dog headed glory.

I stopped so suddenly I fell to my knees. Which gave me a clear view of its’ crotch which was something I never wanted to see so closely.

“Lord, I see your fighter was victorious, using a pitiful weapon. But I am curious why it didn’t use a much better weapon, this one to be precise,” he said surprisingly clearly, holding up Crier. “Somehow this pet has a copy of my sword, I wish to see it.”

From where I was kneeling, I couldn’t see what the Lord was doing, but Crier was suddenly between the two of us. It didn’t appear in a flash of light or anything fancy like that, it simply looked like it had been there all along. I reached for it, but the envoy moved like lightening, grasping it before I could move more than an inch.

“Tell me pet, where did you get Crier of Souls?”

“I gave it to me.”

“So you defeated me for it. Impressive. Can you do it again?” he asked. “Lord, your pet has now insulted me twice. First by its’ pitiful attempt at social graces, and now by having my own weapon. I demand satisfaction!”

The Lord spoke, “It’s your right. You may fight her if you wish. But she is injured, lets make this sporting. You must kill her or make her concede, but if she gets first blood she wins and honour is satisfied.”

“Fine,” the envoy agreed, he sounded very pleased with the arrangements. “But, if she concedes I get her as my own pet and I get my sword. If she succeeds, somehow, I will give her my sword and allow her to live.”

“Agreed.”

I knelt there barely comprehending. I was injured, exhausted, weaponless, and they expected me to fight a duel. I might as well surrender. A memory of me performing tricks for a dog headed fae rose in my mind. A snarl rose in my throat. I’d die first. “I-I don’t have a weapon. This won’t be very interesting, or long,” I said as loudly as I could.

“She’s right. Give her her weapon, we want this to be a fair challenge,” the Lord said.

A fair challenge! A fair fight would be if I was healed. The envoy dropped my Crier at my feet, before turning his back on me like I was less than nothing, and walked to the far side of the arena. I picked up Crier awkwardly in my left hand, for the second time today I expected to die. A sudden insane thought rose in my pain addled brain. “My Lord, I simply have to achieve first blood to win?”

“Yes.”

I pulled Crier from his sheath. A smile was on my lips. I would probably die anyways, but it was a chance.

Seeing us both ready, the audience leaned forward, expecting to see me die painfully. “Begin!”

The envoy sauntered towards me, clearly enjoying himself.

Before he made it three steps, I brought Crier down and sliced my own leg. As the blood ran down my thigh, I raised my sword high into the air letting the dark red blood show clearly in the light. “First blood!” I shouted.

The audience began to laugh, the envoy roared and rushed at me. A cage of ice surrounded him. “We did say first blood. We never specified who’s blood she must draw,” the Lady said. “You are clever fighter. Continue to amuse us.”

I hoped she didn’t want me to amuse her at that moment. From the pain, the wounds and now blood loss, I fainted.

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Just to let you know

Domoviye's picture

before I get another ten messages, I am planning on posting other stories soon. But I've been dealing with a bad cold that set off my allergies so I've spent the last two or three weeks trying to breathe through horrible congestion.
I've only posted stories I've already had written and just needed some editing, but in the next few days I should be healthy enough to post new chapters of everything.

Love this series; nice to see

Love this series; nice to see the Fae shown as they used to be thought of. Hope you are feeling better soon.

Thanks

Domoviye's picture

I never liked the idea of happy go lucky forest spirits who were practically human and needed help all the time. Give me the old tales of confusing creatures with strange ideas, rules and honour.

Alex outsmarted someone who

Alex outsmarted someone who deserved to be shown up, I just hope she is able to keep her wits with those devious fae.

I hope she finds another true ally, Paula needs to be put in her place but Alex needs someone who has her best interests at heart and looks out for her.

I'm told STFU more times in a day than most people get told in a lifetime

She might. But she is mostly

Domoviye's picture

She might. But she is mostly surviving by bloody violence and rage, so we'll see if she's learned her lesson or not.
Like I said she has some emotional problems, so switching gears might not be that easy for her.

Get well soon

Hope you are well soon. I have missed your other stories, but maintaining your health is most important to providing for future entertainment. While Calandri is mad at Alex, lets hope that she realizes why, and direct blame towards Paula by making it possible for Alex to finish her. For while Calandri is a problem at least she wants to need Alex around, so Paula is a greater danger in many ways.

Thanks

Domoviye's picture

I just read over what I've gotten done so far, and let's just say that what's coming is going to make this look like a picnic, because everyone is in for a world of hurt.

Clever Girl

terrynaut's picture

I saw it coming only a few sentences before it happened. Very nice. Very clever.

This was brutal but she won. It was definitely an ugly win but a win is a win.

I can't wait to see her deal with Paula. Paula's day is coming!

Thanks and kudos (number 30).

- Terry

It was

Domoviye's picture

I'd painted myself into a corner when writing it, so I wracked my brains for a way out and that popped up. It seemed suitably clever to get out of the mess by amusing the audience.
As for Paula, don't count her out until her head is crushed in Alex's hand. And maybe not even then.