Our tale begins
NB: Despite the presence of dialogue, this page is not a transcript. This is a narrative writing based on my memories of the session. – FemmeLegion
“I told you so.” Azis’s voice was rough against Seraph’s ear.
“Shut up.” Seraph wriggled his wrists, trying to shift the ropes to some slightly more comfortable spot. Enough sand had gotten between the ropes and his skin that there was no such thing. Not that it would matter for much longer, he supposed.
The white-clad knightess who had captured him was arguing vehemently with two other women who had ridden up shortly thereafter – more fuel, Seraph thought, for his half-brother’s assertion that this lightly guarded caravan was sure to be a trap. But it didn’t make sense. His Oracle, the masked lady of whom he’d dreamed regularly since his rite of passage, had led him to dozens of other such caravans over the last five years, and they had been genuinely ripe for plundering. Why had she led him astray now? Or had she too been fooled by the Knights of the Vale hiding their armor beneath burnooses and playing the helpless maids?
The three women finished their discussion, and the knightess’s face was filled with impotent rage. “Line up the…prisoners!” The final word was spat in disgust.
“What the hell?!” Azis echoed Seraph’s surprise. The Knights of the Vale never let raiders live, and especially not raiders from Zinyini clans such as theirs, who were adamantly opposed to Valite rulership. There was no time to wonder, though. The two other women, one leading the other on her arm, were walking toward them even as the Knights hauled everyone into a semblance of a straight line.
“Greetings,” the leader said. “I am Princess Germain of the Vale. This” – she indicated the woman on her arm, whom Seraph and Azis could now tell was blind – “is Princess Brandy of the Vale.” Germain began to lead Brandy down the line of prisoners, and Brandy kept shaking her head and saying “no” until she got to Seraph.
“This is the one,” Brandy said. Germain squinted at Seraph, making no attempt to hide her contempt, then leaned in close enough for him to smell her sweat. He could feel her eyes entering his mind and rummaging around.
“You…Seraph…have the power to spare your life and the lives of your kinsmen. All you have to do is whatever we ask.”
“Abbadon,” Prince Lewis said as the black-haired dwarf filled the doorway. “Come in. I have a task I must set to you.”
“I am at your service, Your Highness,” Abbadon said as he bowed. Indeed, he could not think of any Azer who would have said anything else. Prince Lewis was only half-blooded, through his father King Airom, but he was beloved among his people, and some openly lamented the fact that he could not assume rulership once Airom passed.
“You are a good knight, Abbadon. Ah! And Gorlon! There you are!” The prince nodded to another half-blood who had pushed aside the chains which served to curtain the room. “Come in, then, and let me tell you what I need of you.
“It is commonly known that twenty years ago, this land was invaded by demons, who waged war on the Zinyini and the People of the Vale. It is less commonly known that my half-sister, Empress Carawynne, sealed off the Vale so the demons could never return. It is even less commonly known that another half-sister, Princess Blaze, began the demon invasion by taking a demon as a lover, and that she bore a child to him, and that the child resides in the Vale.”
“Princess Blaze?” Gorlon sounded confused. “I don’t believe I’ve ever heard of her.”
Prince Lewis nodded. “She was wise enough to obliterate her name from history. But we were able to use her child as a bargaining chip of sorts, forging a treaty with the demons so they would not attack again.” He held up a hand to Abbadon, who was poised to speak. “It is true that Carawynne made it so the demons cannot physically manifest in the Vale ever again. However, they are powerful beings, and they threatened to destroy the Vale by dropping mountains from the sky – something against which Carawynne’s magic cannot defend. The treaty was necessary.”
Gorlon shook his head. “But I still don’t understand where we come in.”
“She is a young woman now, and every bit as headstrong as her aunts and uncles. I want you to go to the Vale on my behalf, and see to her welfare, and ensure that nothing happens which would break that treaty. We cannot risk another war.”
“Malak,” Einac said, stroking her hair, “Did you know that you have a grandson?”
“Hmmm?” Malak stretched, trying not to disturb the other scarcely-clad women piled around them. She stretched out one hand, palm up. “Well, I suppose I knew it was possible. I had four children before I died. Surely one of them would have lived long enough to marry and have their own children.” It didn’t even occur to Malak to be bothered by not knowing. All infants born to temple whores were considered blessed, but were given away to the father’s family so that motherhood wouldn’t interfere with their priestess work. It hurt a little the first time, but she never once thought to question the gods’ wills on the matter.
“Well,” Einac said gently, “it appears that events are about to transpire that would allow me to send you back to guard him. Would you like that?”
Malak tilted her head, looking at the young god adoringly. “I serve your will. Do you wish for me to go?”
Einac pursed his lips. “All your priestessing, and you have so little respect for me that when I ask what you want, you refuse to answer? Have you forgotten the very lesson you teach – that I love you as well?”
Malak shivered a little, but saw no true anger in Einac’s eyes. Still, it took her a while to answer him.
“I would like to meet the child, if nothing else. But will I see you again?”
“Of course. You are a Spirit Warrior now – you may come and go as you please.” Einac reached over his head to fetch Malak a burnoose. “The Vale’s Royal family is sending your Seraph on a quest. They have made him swear a vow not to harm any of them. I want you to protect Seraph, and I want to know what this quest is.”
Malak hastily straightened her caftan and threw on the burnoose. “I will do what I can, my Lord.”
“I ask no more, and no less.” Einac smiled and gestured. The sea parted above their heads, and Malak felt the salt breeze lift her feet off the ground, speeding her away into the desert.
Red awoke, rolling over gently to make sure Adam was still in the bed. He was, though it had taken building a wall of pillows between them for him to think it proper to be there. He was a perfect gentleman, which occasionally got on her nerves.
She changed into fresh clothes and pulled on her boots. She had a Princess to visit. She trudged down several hallways, and was about to knock on the door when a sudden voice made her jump.
“You there!” Princess Chance had come up silently behind Red, and was scrutinizing her. “So I guess you accepted the bodyguard offer?”
“Y-yes,” Red said, composing herself quickly. “I was just about to rouse Morgaine for breakfast.”
“Of course,” Chance said, and Red could never be sure how she meant it. But the Princess turned on her heel and walked away, leaving Red alone to open the door to Princess Morgaine’s bedroom.
“So hey,” Red said as Morgaine struggled to wakefulness, “you’re allowed to leave the castle as long as you don’t leave the city, right?”
“Right,” Morgaine mumbled sleepily.
“Then come on. Let’s go get some breakfast and we can talk more about what you were planning.”
“Habbibi!”
Seraph had been on his feet perhaps two minutes before he was nearly knocked off them again by a glowing Zinyini girl giving him a bearhug. He shook his head dazedly as she let go. The word was a term of affection usually used by mothers to their children, but this girl was younger than him. It made no sense – not that much was making sense recently.
“Hakim!” The girl positively squealed to see Azis, and had planted a huge smooch on Azis’s lips before he could move to defend himself.
“No.” Azis shook his head and wiped off the kiss, confused and slightly angry at being confused. “Azis.”
“Oh.” The girl put a half-curled hand to her mouth. “I’m so sorry. But you look just like him.”
That gave both men a start. They had a grandfather Hakim, and Azis did look just like him.
“Honored ancestor,” Seraph finally stammered out, but the girl cut him off with a wave of her hand.
“Please, habbibi, call me Malak.” The girl smiled. “I’m your grandmother.”
“So it seems you will have two witnesses to your vow, then, Seraph.” Princess Germain’s voice broke coldly into the reunion. She turned, her eyes compelling Malak’s to meet them. “You are aware of the pact that Modnar, king of your gods, made with the Empress Carawynne.” The word “your” had an unmistakable sneer behind it, and Azis spat in the sand beside him.
“I am,” Malak said, as humble toward the Princess as Azis and Seraph had been defiant. “I am here to guard Seraph’s well-being on his quest, whatever that may be.”
“Well, then,” said Princess Germain, “mount up. We ride for the Vale to meet with Princess Morgaine. You” – she indicated the other Zinyini – “are free to go. Cut them loose, Julianne,” she addressed the knightess, who grumbled as she complied. Azis and Seraph and Malak were hauled up in front of three of the white-clad lady knights, and they were off at a gallop.
Abbadon grumbled. “It’s cold!” It was midday in the desert as the two rode their red-furred goats down the switchback trail to the city of the Vale, but it was still a drastic difference from the climate of their home inside the volcano.
Gorlon shrugged. “I’m afraid it doesn’t get any better in the Vale itself.” He gestured down the mountain path before them, where green leaves and flowering trees proudly displayed their bounty for the delight of birds and buzzing insects.
Abbadon particularly noticed the giant cloud hovering high above the city, providing shade from most of the sun’s heat. He made a face. “And we’re to be here until told otherwise by the Prince. I hope you do a good job of charming her into behaving.”
Gorlon did not answer. His eyes had strayed to the sliver of desert on the far horizon. Abbadon followed his gaze.
“Knights of the Vale…with prisoners.” Abbadon frowned. “That is highly unusual. But they seem to be riding to the castle as well. Let’s meet up with them. Perhaps their company will make it easier for us to get our audience with the Empress and with Morgaine.”
Red and Morgaine finished up the last of their breakfast. Red tossed a few extra coins on the tavern table. “Come on. Let’s get you back home.”
They had ridden as far as the garden outside the castle walls when suddenly the air in front of them was rent asunder, offering vague glimpses into darkness. A glowing young Zinyini girl stepped through, followed by a hastily groomed Zinyini man, two Azer, another Zinyini man (this one very tall and fierce-looking), and finally the Empress Carawynne.
“Morgaine,” said the Empress, inclining her head. She then waved to indicate the others. “These are the rest of your bodyguards.”
“Your Majesty, I have to object,” Red began, but was promptly cut off.
“It is not your place to object.”
Red pursed her lips, but kept silent. Even if she disagreed with the Empress’s assessment, Carawynne was in one sense right. It was not necessary at the moment to argue that Red felt none of them were trustworthy because they had all in some sense been forced into the job by others, and not drawn to the job out of any genuine concern for Morgaine’s welfare. If for no other reason, Red knew she didn’t need to argue because she knew the Empress could read her mind.
“By your leave, aunt,” Morgaine said, stretching herself as tall as she could, “I would speak with them alone. Surely you can trust me alone with them if you are trusting them with the task of guarding my welfare.”
Carawynne narrowed her eyes a bit, but silently turned and walked back through the hole in the air, which sealed up behind her, leaving them alone in the garden.
“I wish to thank you,” Morgaine said. She turned immediately to Azis, who had made a face at her words. “I know that some of you were not brought into this willingly, but I would thank you just the same. I have been speaking with Red here, about a dire situation I feel compelled to investigate and perhaps resolve. Prince Florin has courted the Zinyini goddess Li’Marolf, and fathered a child on her. About seven days ago, Florin stole the child away. My best attempts at scrying show that he is in a cave in the Hidden Valley, south of the Vale. I wish to find him, and return the child to its mother.”
“All due respect,” said Abbadon, “my orders are to guard you, and I understand that you are not to leave the city of the Vale under any circumstances.” His words echoed the confusion of the rest of the newcomers.
“I am not allowed to leave the city of the Vale physically,” Morgaine replied with a nod. “However, my aunt Brandy has taught me how to project my spirit out of my body, and in such a state my spirit may wander freely. I have tried this already, and in fact I have visited the cave in question.”
“But you haven’t found anything yet,” Seraph said, feeling a cold certainty as to why he was chosen to accompany Morgaine. Caravans weren’t the only thing his Oracle had shown him the path to find.
“Well,” the princess said, “it’s impossible for me to do things like move rock barricades when I don’t have a body. I would need someone to physically be there searching, with my spirit guiding you. I would take a sleeping potion so I could remain with you for longer periods of time.”
The crowd began devolving into argument, some calling her quest madness, others questioning her motives as being more than simply wishing to console a mother whose divinity she did not acknowledge, and still others firmly maintaining that they were to guard her, and that meant guarding her body – especially if it was to sleep for long periods of time – and that meant staying in the city of the Vale. At last, of all people, Azis finally and loudly agreed to undertake the quest, on the grounds that it entailed finding the child of one of his people’s goddesses, and thus was a holy mission of some sort. Abbadon sighed and mumbled something about youngsters feeling the need to sow their proverbial oats. In time Morgaine summoned attendants to show her new bodyguards to their palatial quarters until such time as they could be ready to depart on their quest.