A Sliver of Redemption h-5 Page 14
“I have, back when their majestic ships were nothing but tiny little toys rowed by children. A great city, with many walls that stretch even into the water. There is but a single gate, not that it will slow us any. Wings and magic so ruin a lengthy siege…”
He stopped and stood.
“You still won’t talk?” he asked. She kept her eyes down, her arms wrapped about her knees. “I thought so. You need a lesson, Tessanna. I am not surprised at your strength, but I thought in time you would have seen the truth in this life, the honor in our conquest. But it appears I must break you like I would break a mule.”
Velixar walked to the nearest fire, one chosen at random from the hundreds that dotted the hillside. He came back with a rough looking man, his hair unevenly cut and half his teeth were missing when he smiled nervously at the two of them.
“Are you sure?” the man asked Velixar, who nodded. The soldier loosened his belt and took a step closer. “I’m a lucky man.”
“That you are,” said Velixar.
He knelt down beside Tessanna and moved to kiss her. When she pushed back, he laughed and grabbed her wrists. He was a big man, much bigger than her. She shrieked and clawed, but he held firm, and then his weight was atop her. When he let go of one hand to pull down his pants she slashed his face. In return, he struck her again and again, beating her chest and bloodying her nose. His forearm crushed her larynx, and she gasped for air as he pushed himself inside. He started out slow, then sped up, laughing and cussing as he held her down. At last he slowed, and he climbed off while trying to reattach his buckle.
“A pretty lass, but a bit loose,” he said.
“Return to your tent,” Velixar said. Tessanna lay on her back, her clothes in disarray. She kept her knees pressed tightly together, and they rocked left to right as if she were trying to force out the vile seed spent within her.
Karak’s prophet knelt beside her and whispered into her ear.
“Every night I will find another. You know the diseases of men. Soon you will ache and blister and rot from within. No more silence. No more withering at my touch. My bride, or the army’s whore. Choose.”
She looked up at him, her face wet with tears.
“I’d rather be a whore.”
Velixar stepped back and frowned.
“I make no idle threats,” he said. “This is no lie. Every night, another man.”
“And every night I’ll thank Celestia that man is not you.”
He kicked the fire, scattering it dead.
“Sleep well,” he told her, seeking solitude for his prayers. She watched him go, and she did pray to Celestia, the first time since her childhood. Anything, she prayed, she’d do anything to have her power to crush Velixar and scatter his ashes to the far corners of the world.
Instead she fell asleep a cold, scared, powerless woman.
T he next night, and every night after on the march to Angelport, Velixar kept his word.
T he army pillaged as they traveled south-east to the coast, following the trade routes beaten into the hills from hundreds of years of wagons and merchants. Sometimes they’d send out squads to search further off the trail for more food. The delays and distractions made Velixar wish for the days when his army had been purely of the dead. Perhaps they lacked skill in fighting, but at least they didn’t have to eat, or sleep, or waste precious energy fooling around with the steadily growing trail of camp followers. He’d nearly killed all the women, but Thulos ordered him to let them live. He seemed confident the constant rutting like animals would keep their nerves cooled and his men’s tempers down.
They encountered the first few scouts as they neared Angelport, but before any could flee for safety, Thulos’s advance patrols swooped down behind and took their lives. Unencumbered and with clear weather, they camped a mere day away to plan their attack.
“Thulos has kept his plan to himself,” Velixar said as he started a fire and tossed Tessanna a scrap of bread. A red-bearded soldier was with him, and he leered at her hungrily. “Keep her company while I am away.”
“Will do,” said the soldier.
“What’s your name?” Tessanna asked, nibbling on the food as if not the least bit worried or upset.
“Robbie.” He crossed his arms and admired her form. From his vantage point she knew he could see straight down her shirt, and his pants bulged in appreciation. “Robbie the horse.”
“They say that because you’re smart?” she asked.
“You wish. You’ll find out, girlie. That creepy man said I have all night, and I plan to use it.”
Tessanna smiled at him.
“Touch me and I’ll cut your manhood off.”
“That so?” Robbie laughed. “How about you watch your mouth unless you want some black eyes and bruises to pretty up that face of yours? He didn’t say nothing about being nice to you or leaving no marks.”
“Beat me all you want,” she said. “But rape me and I’ll cut it off. Horsie.”
“That’s enough!”
He backhanded her. His knuckles bled from her teeth. Her smile seemed to grow at his anger.
“I’ve had worse than you,” she said. “I’ve been fucked by six men at once, all while they beat me to make me scream. What are you? What does your tiny little prick matter to me? Listen to me closely, Robbie. You can tell the others what a great time you had, tell them I moaned like a virgin, but you won’t touch me again. Now leave.”
But Robbie didn’t appear to have any intentions of leaving. His face flushed red, and he sucked his bleeding knuckles while wearing an expression more appropriate for an animal than a man.
“You think you’re tough, bitch?” he asked her. “You see any around to help you? Any to save you? Take off your dress and maybe I’ll play nice.”
“What, you don’t want it in my mouth first, or are you afraid I’ll bite that little nub right off?”
He swung his fist, but this time she was ready. She ducked, the attack passing over her head, and then she had her dagger drawn and slashing. Robbie howled as she sliced the tendon in the back of his ankle, just above the heel. Tessanna rammed her weight against his knee, and his wounded leg lacked the strength to stand. As he fell she leapt atop him, her dagger stabbing into his arm. He struggled, but she rode him unbothered by his flailing. Again she cut, this time the tendons by his elbow.
“Shush now,” Tessanna whispered, pressing her free hand against his mouth. The pain in his arms and legs was too great to struggle, so he relaxed and listened. “I warned you, didn’t I? Now close your eyes. I promise to be nice and let you go, but you need to close your eyes. If you don’t, you’ll watch as I cut your other foot. I know it hurts, I can see you crying because of it. Imagine both your legs feeling like that. Imagine trying to march along. You think the war demons will let you stay behind? What do you think they’ll do? Target practice for the archers, maybe?”
“No, please,” he whimpered against her palm.
“Then close your damn eyes.”
He did as he was told. Slowly she inched down his body, the dagger trailing against the fabric of his shirt, then his pants. It circled against his knee, then traveled upward. He flinched, and she laughed when he did.
“I did promise…”
In went the dagger, piercing his scrotum. He screamed and thrashed, but the pain was too great, consciousness fading fast. The dagger cut and cut…
When Velixar returned, he found Robbie splayed out by the fire, his lower body a disgusting smear of blood and gore. Tessanna sat on her haunches, licking the blade.
“I feel normal,” she said, giggling. Velixar stood there, unable to react. He cared nothing for the man, but he’d promised her nightly torture. It wasn’t much torture if she was the one with the blade.
“Perhaps it isn’t rapes you need at night,” he said. “Would you prefer a warm body to cut into, if your own no longer pleases you?”
In answer, she viciously slashed her wrist and bled it out onto the fire.
She was laughing, seemingly delirious with joy. Whatever had stopped her from flitting between her selves, kept her sad and serious and tortured, had vanished. The blood dripped down, and she watched it oblivious to Velixar’s presence. He took the dagger from her limp hand.
“Your magic,” he said, suddenly hoping.
“Still gone,” she whispered. “Mommy’s still abandoned me. If you want a goddess as your queen, you won’t ever get it. You’ll only have me, broken, mad little me. If I’ll have you. If Qurrah won’t have me.”
The necromancer felt his anger kindle at his former pupil’s name.
“Tomorrow we will show Angelport the true power of the war god,” he said. “And you can see what fate awaits Qurrah and his friends. Maybe then you’ll realize how hopeless his life is.”
He whispered words of magic, and Robbie’s body stood, turned, and joined the ranks of the undead legion outside the camp. Thulos had given him specific orders to carry out, and while they were on the odd side, he had a guess as to what the war god planned. Strangely unnerved by Tessanna’s dramatic shift, he left her alone, deciding he needed an extra hour of prayers to prepare for the coming siege.
Tessanna watched him go, wishing he hadn’t take her dagger. Her smile faded, and with sudden vigor she wiped at the blood on her hands and face. It had been an act. The cutting, the laughing, the mad look in her eyes: all an act. She still felt broken, but strangely held together, bound by a force that frightened her and flooded her sleep with nightmares. But she’d also known Velixar’s desires, and what he desired was the old Tessanna, the wild goddess who feasted on blood and lived like an animal. She’d given him a taste, all the while wondering what had happened to that older self.
Hopefully it’d be enough. She’d faked with many men before, and if she could fake well enough with Velixar, perhaps he’d keep away the men. She didn’t need to be his queen; she wouldn’t give him what he wanted just yet. She’d hint at it. Make him think the wild goddess was reemerging.
Tired and alone, she let out a sigh of relief and then bandaged her cut wrist with a ripped piece of her dress. For some reason, its pain was deep, an ache strangely comforting in its normality and lack of excitement.
T essanna awoke to the sound of trumpets and shouting. She stood, wincing at the pain in her wrist. She felt a tingle in the back of her head, an assurance of something wrong or odd. When she removed the wrapping on her hand, she realized what it was. Her wrist was red, the cut swollen and angry. A thin line of black marked where the blood had dried. Never before had a cut lasted so long. She’d always healed quickly, no doubt because of Celestia’s power within her…
She choked back a sob. Did everything about her have to vanish? Every unique piece of her fade away, rejected from her mortal form?
“We march in a few minutes,” Velixar said, appearing from the chaotic mess of soldiers around them.
“I can see that,” Tessanna said. Her somber tone must have alerted him, because his red eyes narrowed.
“Is something the matter?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she said, lowering her hand and shaking her head to fling her hair across her face. As if hiding, she spoke like a child. “Must we go? I’ll be scared.”
Velixar chuckled. The sound sickened her stomach.
“We must. Now come.”
He took her hand. It was cold, rough. She thought she’d vomit but held it down.
When they’d camped, Angelport had glittered in the far distance, just a twinkling of torches and patrols. No doubt they’d seen their camp as well, which is why Thulos had ordered them to build not one fire but two for every group. Tessanna expected the demons to fly in their tight formations to show off their numbers, but instead they marched along the ground, behind both the undead soldiers and men of Felwood. Only Thulos stayed at the front, issuing orders and urging them onward.
“Why do they walk?” she asked, hoping her tone was the right quality of curiosity and boredom.
“Thulos figures they’ve heard rumors of winged men,” Velixar said. “Perhaps some there have even seen a few and lived. But if we delay revealing their presence, any defenses they’ve made in preparation for them might slacken or even be abandoned.”
“We’re to kill them all?” she asked. When he glanced at her, she giggled to hide her original unease.
“One strong display of power should be enough to convince the rest to surrender,” Velixar said. “I wonder, though, why you might care either way.”
“If you kill them all, where will I get my servants?”
“Servants?”
She batted her eyelashes at him.
“A true queen should have servants. Don’t you agree?”
Karak’s prophet laughed. “You’re right. Perhaps we can find a servant girl or two, someone to clean and cook.”
The morning passed, and they came closer and closer to Angelport. Tessanna looked over the defenses, praying they would hold. She didn’t want to see another massacre. Even more, she didn’t want to listen to the horrific chants as thousands more knelt and swore their lives to Karak. From what she saw, the defenders had a chance. They’d built several walls, concentric circles of wood and stone. The outermost wall stretched a great distance into the water, and all across the ocean waited an awesome amount of ships.
“Walls and water,” Velixar said, catching her staring at the city. “They hope to stop a god’s army with walls, water, and pathetic ships of wood. So foolish.”
“They don’t know any better,” she said, feeling out of breath. Though Velixar had eyed her eating habits more carefully, she still had not regained enough weight. The hours of walking drained her, left her feeling empty. Velixar’s constant presence didn’t help, either. “But can you blame them for the defense? You seemed pleased with Veldaren’s struggle.”
“I had waited centuries to watch that city burn,” Karak’s prophet said. “Forgive me for wishing to enjoy the bloodshed. Angelport, though, is nothing more than a distraction. Thulos wants more soldiers, and he doesn’t want an enemy at his back. I’d be happy to burn it down from afar before moving on.”
The final mile was perfectly flat, the ground unsteady beneath their feet. Many times soldiers stepped onto what they thought was grass only to twist their ankles in a sudden dirt hole. Once Tessanna nearly tripped, but Velixar kept her steady. His arms wrapped around her waist, and she felt his thin, bony body against hers. She trembled, but not in the way Velixar surely thought she did.
“Soon,” he whispered.
“Qurrah,” she whispered back. “Not until he is gone forever.”
A fire smoldered in his dead eyes.
“Soon,” he said, and his ever-changing face grinned.
Architects had built the outermost wall thicker than the others, though not as tall. It’d been designed for many men to stand comfortably atop it, so Thulos led his army toward the imposing sight of several thousand archers standing ready. Velixar hurried her to the front so they might march beside him. As the god towered over everyone, he drew his sword and held it high so the sunlight might glint off it. His army halted.
“No doubt any army of this world would crumble against those walls,” Thulos said as the two of them neared. “Yet to us it will fall in a single day. Keep everyone outside of arrow range. Prophet, are you ready to do your part?”
Velixar released Tessanna’s hand and nodded. He closed his eyes, and with words of magic pouring from his tongue, he lifted his arms to the heavens and summoned all of Karak’s power.
“ Shadows! ” he cried in a vile tongue Tessanna recognized as if from a dream life. The shadows before the outermost wall darkened to a black so pure it reminded her of the night sky, except with all the stars torn away. The darkness crawled
up the wall, higher, higher, until it enveloped the defenders. Like a flood it poured into the streets, dousing torches and burying men. It did no harm, Tessanna recognized the spell well enough to know that, but the men within were certainly helpless and terrified.
“Let them wail about in their fear,” Thulos said. A war demon waited beside him, ready to carry out his order to attack. Behind the wall of undead, his winged troops readied their weapons. Arrows fired in chaotic volleys toward them, as if the defenders believed an assault on the walls had already begun. The shadows remained, and slowly the arrows became only a trickle.
“Send your undead,” Thulos ordered.
Velixar nodded, the changing of his features an imperceptible crawl. Tessanna knew the shadow spell weighed on him. Controlling the legion of undead would be no easy task. Whole body trembling, Velixar gave his orders. The undead broke into two lines, curling to either side of the city. Without sight, the archers didn’t know of their approach and could not annihilate them like they should have. It wasn’t until they were close enough to be heard that the archers attacked. Velixar winced as hundreds of his undead fell, their bodies pierced by many arrows.
But thousands remained, and one by one they plunged into the water.
“The boats,” Tessanna said, daring to interrupt Velixar’s concentration.
“Will see nothing,” Thulos said, answering for him. “You were too busy…entertaining the men of this camp to know. I have made every one of them ingest stones on the march here. They will sink in the water, hidden and protected.”
“You hope to assault the men whilst they are unaware,” she said.
“Do not pretend to guess,” he told her. “You are a child watching a master play a game you know nothing of. Enjoy the massacre, but in your place as an onlooker, not an equal.”
She bit her tongue. If Velixar was upset at her reprimand, he didn’t show it.
“The archers are focused on the undead,” Thulos said to his demon lieutenant at his side. “Crush them.”
They took to the air in a violent explosion of wind and feathers. They bunched into formations with expert speed, then flew straight for the front gate.