Or to join us
. My knees went weak with the thought.
We scaled a long silvery way up to the top of the tower. I was breathing hard by the end of it, and she was chuckling. Her snakes were dancing around her shoulders, as excited as she was. She was pulling me eagerly along, and I wondered how the snakes would react during the act, if I let it go that far. My head spun crazily. I felt her stopping, and pouring more wine into my throat, the jotuns chuckling, and then a door was opened.
The guards stayed out, and I was pushed inside. The room was very dark, but there were lights outside, and I saw the Queen standing before me. She was the ancient gorgon, deadly and beautiful, the ally of Stheno, and I was drunk, drugged, and foolish. She opened her belt, and a long chain skirt fell down to the dust. She pulled at the straps on her shoulder, and her silvery robe fell off. She was short, magnificent, and perhaps like a spider, who devours her consort after mating with it, but for some reason, I didn’t care.
I desired her.
She was alert, ready, her breasts high and erect, and she touched her thigh, then the flawless, hairless vagina. She was wet, and she gasped as she saw I was, gods help me, ready as well.
So I decided I’d be happy for a while.
I opened my belt, and she was there, ripping my chainmail off me. I fell back on my ass on a bed, laughing, and she was giggling happily, like a girl, and pulling at my tunic, boots, then pants.
I leaned behind as she pulled them off, still sensible enough to hide the gloves. She stopped and frowned at the wound in my chest, but then ignored it, and climbed over me.
Her nipples brushed my legs as she worked her way up. Her face brushed my penis, which she then licked, long and pleasurably, and I trembled with joy. She didn’t stop there. After a while, she pulled me up, touching my balls, my inner thigh, speaking softly, her snakes licking my face and neck. She kissed long, hard, her hands on my manhood, and I, to my pleasure, found my hand on her round buttock, her thighs, and then between her legs, and the creature gasped and her eyes shone with desire. She pushed me further on the bed. She forced my face on her belly, she kissed me hungrily in my neck, touched me so hard I gasped with lust, and slid over me. I entered her warmth.
For the next few hours, I was dizzy, happy, relieved, and happy, and I had no idea what was in that wine, but I stayed in her until I felt broken and used, every inch of my body trembling with pleasure. Even my chest was agreeably painless. At some point, she slid off me.
She was exhausted, panting on her belly, next to me.
She was beautiful, wise, and a queen who ruled her people well.
And she had to die so Shannon might live.
Even if Shannon was really dead. I fell asleep, confused.
I
sat up slowly and had no idea how much time had passed. My head ached, so did my chest and I wondered if the cause was the drink or the disease. I stared at it, and smelled rot. It looked like a hole now, and I was sure it had grown. The flesh was red raw and black. I sat up, trying to forget the wound and what it meant, and looked over to Eris instead. I held my head.
The wine. It had to be the wine. Magic? Spell? To make me less ...prudent? More eager. Gods but I had been eager.
I blushed and groaned softly, holding my face and hazarded another look her way.
The Queen seemed fast asleep. Her lips were slightly open, and she was breathing easily as a child without a care in the world. She didn’t look very dangerous, even if the snakes writhed around like waves on breezy day.
I felt the power of fire surging inside me. The magic was there, moving and slithering, and Cosia’s instructions had been specific. I sat there, trying to force myself to extend my hand towards her. I’d call the fire wall, the pulsing fiery power of Muspelheim, the simplest of war spells and it would surge through her mouth, burn her skull inside out, leaving only a blackened bit of bone. She’d die so fast.
Or, perhaps, since she was a mighty Queen of strange powers, she would have mysterious ways to save her,
even
in her sleep. There could be a spell of unseen defense, an artifact to make me sorry I ever tried to hurt her. She might easily have something lurking somewhere. And yet, Eris trusted I could not harm her. And elf or a svartalf would not do. I grinned madly, despairing. They expected me to kill her
just
like that. Eris, against all expectations, seemed much like Ittisana. She might be a survivor in the world of Stheno, but she was not an unstable, mad tyrant at all.
Did she have a magical guard?
It wasn’t apparent, no. Her naked body held nothing, not even a ring. My eyes travelled her body and ended up on her toes.
There, a tiny ring was gleaming softly.
Maybe she
was
guarded. Against physical attacks, perhaps she was. But not magical? I wasn’t sure.
But I should still try. I lifted my hand, and hesitated. For Shannon, I should. Even if I had told her I’d not kill an innocent. Surely Eris was nothing of the sort. No matter how sane she seemed, she must deserve it. She must have killed hundreds of … I pressed my hands on my face.
I was not a slayer.
And surely Cosia would let the jotuns kill me. Surely she would. She might not be able to help me,
if
she tried. My eyes gauged the doorway. No light shone through the cracks. Perhaps there were no cracks, and the creatures were still there.
I rubbed my gloved hands together.
Cosia, she had navigated me into an impossible position. I was to perform her Ruugatha. To slay a fine being that Cosia wanted to supplant was the mission and I didn’t feel up to it. If I’d kill Eris, and then be allowed to travel to Scardark, by ways I didn’t understand, I’d know the plan, but did Cosia truly know it? Would Itax even bother to help me, if I made it there? I felt anger for the manipulations and lies and wiped my face angrily.
No matter what, I could not kill her in her sleep.
A filthy plan.
I got up, and walked to the window, expecting to see one of the moons of Aldheim, but the only things I saw were the walls of stone and strange vegetation rising to unfathomable heights, the dark lakes and the delightful towns and villages.
Not too far, beyond a hilly bit of land filled with many-storied palaces, there was a curious sight. There were streams of gorgons marching for huge, dark tents, set before a cove near the lakes. There was a bustle of other beings amongst the many gorgons that streamed around the area around the tents. Perhaps they were svartalfs, perhaps others? Definitely there were others, shorter ones, and a few jotuns. I pushed at the window to see better, and it opened up nearly soundlessly, filling the room with fresh air that was invigorating. The dizziness disappeared, and whatever spell of truth or love the wine had held that past night, dissipated, though the rotting pain in my chest remained.
I could hear distant excited yells coming from the dark tents. There were huge cheers, a figure lifted his or her hands up in triumph, and then a string of figures was paraded towards the shore, where small vessels waited the apparent prisoners. They were loaded and rowed towards waiting, sleek ships. Occasionally, a gorgon left happy, dancing with her friends, heading for whatever amusement it was gorgons filled their free time with.
Slave trading. The Pits. Here is where they sold the fighters. The very best flesh in Svartalfheim was being traded right there. That’s what it was.
I felt a presence behind me.
The Queen stood there, naked as I was, her eyes dark and glinting. She tilted her head, as if expecting a greeting. I bowed to her. I bowed deep and she lifted my head by my chin. You could read so much from a human’s or even elven eyes, but not a gorgon’s. She smiled at me, let go of me, and came to stand beside me. She moved suddenly, reached out and I saw some movement on the window shelf. She had picked up a white lizard form the ledge, which she let run between her fingers. She lifted it for me to see. “They guard the Queen, you see,” she told me, and I realized the lizard had woken her up when I opened the window. “They are my truth tellers,” she added, and scratched its long neck.
Truth tellers.
I hesitated, and kept my gloves on, half hoping to tell her the truth.
She’d kill me without a blink,
I thought. I knew I’d have to remember there are no friends in Svartalfheim. And only a few in Aldheim. I hated being so weak, but I smiled at her, instead of spilling my guts.
“I see,” I said meaninglessly as she let the lizard go. It scampered away, and gave me a baleful, black stare. The Queen pulled me aside as she tried to see what I was looking at. “The Chain Tents?” she asked me. “That troubles you?”
“I was merely wondering what is taking place down there,” I muttered, taking a step back as she took one towards me. She put a hand on my chest and looked up to my eyes.
“I’ll find a way to cure this,” she murmured and put a finger on the wound.
I groaned. The pain was intense, but such promise was hard to ignore. To tell her the truth or not? I hesitated.
Shannon, remember Shannon.
Instead, I just thanked her with a nod.
She waved a hand towards the Chain Tents. “I understand slave trading is not unknown to humans? Elves do it, dverger as well. Jotuns keep slaves, and did you know the gods do as well?”
“Gods?”
“Gods,” she whispered with a grin. “Nött kept mighty ones, she did. You know we hold the monopoly for the Pit Fighters? That is the only kind of slavery we allow. Slaves for fighting. Nött was the only creature in Below to keep slaves for personal service.”
I shrugged. “I do know something of it. Not the Nött part, though. They are trading fighters down there?” I asked her what she had already told me and wished I had some more of the wine that made flirting so easy. As for Nött and her slaves, I was constantly bewildered by how much I feared the gods we hoped to release. There was no fairness, unless to be gained through power, and perhaps it was no wonder few lords of the Nine sought to regain the gods to the Nine.
Was it very different from the Tenth? Perhaps not. In some ways, yes, but the poor and the weak always suffered. The rich ate boar, the weak each other.
She missed the turmoil on my face. “We have had an excellent season, thanks to the war. Ban’s orc allies can fetch a high price, but there are a few rich dverger who pay triple for svartalfs of magical powers. We sell some to them, but most go to Scardark this year. They will put up a grand show soon. A sacrifice to the gods for the coming war. Splendid fight it shall be.” She winked. “And we even have some rare dverger to sell. Their kin are not happy and tried to buy them back, but there were higher bidders.”
“A sacrifice?” I muttered. “And the war. So I heard.” Indeed, many ships were moored near the harbor and the shore next to the Chain Tent.
She ran a hand across my back. “This is our business. We have spells for concealment, for paralyzing the foes, for finding what the prisoners can do. We know how to price a svartalf.”
I nodded, uncomfortable with her explaining such business so casually, but then, it
was
a dark world. It wasn’t much different in the Tenth, but still brutal. She had an intense look in her eyes. Had the lizard warned her of my strange behavior? Of lifting my hands towards her as she slept?
She could still devour me as a spider.
I should have killed her in her sleep.
She led me back towards the bed. “Food, first,” she murmured, her perfectly round buttocks swaying as she climbed on the bed.
Food?
I thought, gathering resolve to either tell her the truth or to attack her.
I sat next to her and she curled next to me. She seemed very happy and relaxed, and so did her snakes, which waved lazily around her. She suddenly looked shocked. “No, wait. No food. Nor joy. I have business soon. Must attend to it. So you will wait for me here.”
“Yes, Queen,” I murmured. “And when shall I go back to Cosia?”
Her eyes hardened. She clasped my hair and yanked my head back, baring my throat to her. She placed a hand across my jugular, and spoke softly. “Cosia will find business elsewhere. Far from here. You’ll stay here, and perhaps I shall find balance and peace of mind again. Her arrival upset me, greatly. Yris has been glowering at me and Dinin as well. Cosia is like a disease, my boy, but you are not. She would have asked you to do something unpleasant, sooner or later. Not sure what that might have been. You cannot hurt me with weapons and she knows it well. She tapped the ring on her toe and grinned. “Not easily at least. You need a mighty weapon to overpower the Dancer, this artifact. No, you stay, my friend. Amuse me. Love me.” She slapped my knee, as if happy she had decided to take a pet. “Now, I’ll meet with my guests. They are here to buy what we harvested this week in the tunnels. You saw them conducting the business, and soon they shall bring us our tithe.”
“Where are they from?” I asked, looking for my pants. “Scardark?” I was panicking. My window was almost lost.
She smiled. “Scardark. They are thieves and mercenaries who supply the slaves for Stheno’s butchery. They pay us, Scardark pays them and we all make good profits. Dress up, so you won’t get sick. Or sicker.”
I nodded and tried to get up, and felt dizzy.
She leaned closer to me and the snakes tightened around my neck as she saved me from falling. She gazed at me carefully and I spoke to her after the dizziness passed. “Queen?”
“You are dying,” she said and poked my chest. “Someone tried to poison you. Did, in fact. I sense death in that, and smell Hel in the decay.”
Hel?
She let go of me. “I’ll find a cure later, boy. And you shall tell me everything. Come now,” she laughed. “I’m no young gorgon to fall for Cosia’s lies. I knew something was up. A human for a lover? She had but one consort before, but the elf lord died when someone tried a Ruugatha right here in the castle, and I think she hasn’t loved since.”
“Yes, I see,” I said hoarsely. On the windowsill, a gigantic lizard appeared behind the small one, and its tongue flipped out brutally. The smaller lizard disappeared into the thing’s maw, and its big, hoary head stared at me hungrily. It was the size of a small dog. “I thank you. Your daughter is not telling me much. Not the truth, at least.”
She laughed as she pulled on her tunic and the chain skirt. “Truth is a mystery to her, and lies but tools to her ends. Now, dress.”
I stepped next to her, pulling on pants, then my boots.
For Shannon, I must act.
I was preparing for a spell, but I was also terrified. Her power was casual, her confidence supreme. She didn’t know about my powers, and was not prepared, but still I hesitated. “Yes, Queen,” I murmured as I pulled on the tunic.
“Just do not bore me or turn into a spineless maggot, and we’ll get along famously,” she grinned and opened her arms wide to embrace me. Right then, pipes played, a horn blared. She looked back towards to the doorway, then the window, where the large lizard was gone. “They are early,” she murmured. “Far too early.”
There was an explosion.
A jotun was yelling hoarsely.
Gorgons were shouting challenges, and there was a roar of battle-magic. She moved for the door and dragged me with her. “Cosia thinks to supplant me now? We’ll see. We’ll see.” There was a scream of a gorgon dying, and she pushed open the doorway. Next to us, stood the two jotuns. Eris thrust me to one’s arms, and he placed the huge mace on my shoulder. The other one stepped before her. She leaned over the railing and I stretched my neck and saw Cosia. She was in battle regalia, armored with a shield and spear, and at least two dozen of her companions were fighting guards. Ruugatha, the toppling of a Throne was in process. One jotun was dead, his head full of arrows. Another was lying face down, shuddering and crawling, a burning hole in his back.