Angel Of Desire Ch 02

Celina broke into a frantic run, snatching her linen gown before darting into the forest. She could hear the man crashing through the woods after her. Her heart was pounding madly. No one ever came into the forest, even though the river ran straight into it. The villagers all believed it was haunted. The secluded waterfall had been her haven since she was ten and first started venturing out on her own. Having her special place discovered, and being watched while she... while she... Well, she felt violated.

She thought the man had been touching himself while she stroked her own passions, and she greatly feared what would happen if he caught her. Her mother had warned her several times of what men were capable of. It didn't matter that they all thought she was demon spawn, cursed, that there were even whispers that any man who touched her would have his prick fall off. The leering stares of the men at the village had begun as soon as she developed breasts at twelve, and at least two men had tried to corner her behind a barn before Celina reached 16 years old. That's when her mother began spreading the rumors about men's prick's falling off, but it didn't seem to work. When a group of young boys surrounded her one night on her way home, daring each other to see if they would indeed lose their cock, she decided that if she made it away, she would start carrying a knife. Thankfully the butcher heard her screams, running over to see what the commotion was, and she was able to escape into the forest.

This time, however, she was without her knife, expecting to be safe within the shadow of tall oaks in the forest. It was a mistake, but she had little time to dwell as she heard the man gaining on her. Celina was small, lithe, and able to cut through the foliage much easier than the larger man. That didn't take into account his longer legs or the huge sword he was cutting the thick branches with. He was certain to catch her before she made it to the cottage, and if not, he would obviously catch her once she was within.

The location of her mother's cottage was a well guarded secret. The villagers believed her to be a witch. They had no qualms purchasing her potions and brews to heal their various ailments, nor tying to obtain curses and love potions, but they would never consider protecting her if the local friar rallied for an angry mob. They'd bring their torches and pitchforks and burn her at the stake. Then they'd find another healer to betray. She couldn't lead him to her home. She had to think fast.

Celina turned away from the path that would lead her to the cottage, and made her way deeper into the wood. She heard the man cursing at her from only an arm's length away now, and doubled her speed, desperate to reach the clearing she knew was only a few meters ahead. When she finally saw the brighter light that signaled a break in the tree line she nearly shouted in triumph. Her shout was cut short as she felt thick fingers sliding through her long hair. Ducking her head she yanked her hair from his reach and leapt onto a fallen log. The long stretch of grass land was misleading. She carefully made her way through, using her memory more than her eyes to guide her to the flat, grassless spots that dotted the field.

The man came charging through the tree line and into the field. His string of curses became much more adamant then. Celina paused to look back at him, smiling as she saw he was standing about half a meter deep in thick peat. She wished she could see his face, but he was too far for her to focus on any details. She stood there, watching him struggle to move even a few steps. There was little danger of him sinking completely, as the bog was only deep in the very center. However, she knew that a few men had died from being unable to climb out of the muck and being stuck for days. Slowly, carefully, she made her way back towards him. There was a low hanging branch not far above him. She knew that if she could break the branch just a little, it would give him enough leverage to pull free, just in case.

It didn't matter that he would have likely slit her throat when he caught her, she couldn't leave a man to die in the bog. As Celina approached, Pierre's body stilled its struggles. He watched the demon as she approached. He felt fear creeping down his spine, unsure what her intentions were. She was beautiful, enticing, and he had fallen for her charms in an instant. He couldn't believe that he had thought her an angel. It was so obvious now. Her red eyes seemed to glow as she came towards him. She had led him into this treacherous bog, and now was closing in to destroy him. About a meter away, just out of his reach, she circled him. He watched her naked body, only barely covered by the linen gown she clutched to her bosom. In spite of his trepidations, he felt his cock stir at the sight, remembering her fingers as they'd touched her pale body. She remained just out of his reach, until she was perched back in the safety of the woods and solid ground. For a minute, he was terrified she would leave him there to die of thirst in the sticky marsh. His legs were stuck fast, and he wasn't sure he could remove them. He had no leverage and couldn't use his hands or risk getting them stuck as well. He knew they were deep enough into the forest that no one would hear him calling. His sharp eyes saw a boot sticking out of the middle of the bog, and knew it had claimed men's lives before.

"Kill me now, demon, or I vow I shall escape and hunt you down."

Celina watched him with interest. He must be caught worse than she thought if he was hoping she'd give him a quick death. It made her at once glad that she had decided to rescue him, and afraid of what would happen once she did. Quickly she put her gown on, giving him a tantalizing glimpse of her pale, naked body. When she was covered, she began to climb the tree.

Pierre was confused. He watched her scramble up a large tree and edge out onto a low branch. Holding on to another branch she began to jump up and down. At first he thought she was just trying to torment him by forcing him to watch her ample breasts jiggle above him. Then he heard a creak, and realized she was trying to break the branch. It was a heavy one, and he thought she meant to crush him, knock him out perhaps, pushing him down farther into the bog so that he would drown in the sticky peat. It would not be a pleasant way to die.

Finally, the branch gave, and the loud crack was the only warning either of them had. Celina jumped off the branch and onto the ground, and Pierre put his arms over his head to cushion the blow. When the branch struck him, he nearly laughed out loud. The light tap on his forearm was a far cry from the crashing punch he had been expecting. He opened his eyes to see the branch had only broken half way through. He should have expected this, honestly. The wood was still alive and pliable, not a good choice for snapping it off. He didn't see the demon anywhere. She must have run off when she realized that her plan to kill him had failed. She'd also given him the means to save himself, as the branch was still firmly attached to the tree.

Celina hid behind a thick oak just long enough to be sure he would get free of the bog, then raced through the woods to the path to the cottage. When she got there, she listened carefully, noting that the small, one room building was empty. Her mother was still in the village. Celina drew some water from the pump to fill the small wash basin and put a kettle of water on the stove. Although she had bathed in the lake, running through the woods had made her sweaty, and there were a few twigs stuck in her hair. She felt lucky that she hadn't scraped her bare feet on anything. She had well developed soles, but she'd finally taken to wearing shoes when she went into the village, and her calluses were beginning to thin out. Once the kettle began to rumble, she took it off before it could boil and added the hot water to the rest of the bucket. She pulled the twigs from her hair and combed the pale, platinum locks with a moistened brush, catching any stray pieces of dirt in the process. Standing in the now warm water, she took a cloth and wiped the sweat from her body, letting her feet soak at the same time. The feeling of her hands smoothing over her skin reminded her of the man who was probably looking for her now. She would have to be careful not to be noticed next time she went to the village. She was certain he was staying there, there wasn't much else in this area. She hoped he was just passing through, however, and would be put off by the rumors surrounding her, forgetting his sworn vengeance.

Finishing her bath, she donned a new dress and pulled her cloak from its hook by the door. The thin hooded cape was not designed for warmth. Celina's mother had made it for her to protect her fragile skin from the sun. The lightweight navy material draped over her hair and shoulders, tied with a black, satin ribbon at her milky throat. She loved it, it was her most prized possession. In addition to hiding her from the sun's light, it also allowed her to go through the village without gaining as much attention. It wasn't that people didn't know it was her, but it wasn't as jarring a sight as her pale blond hair and ivory skin, and people were able to ignore her, if they put their minds to it. The whole village knew she lived with the witch, and she frequently had to run errands. The cloak offered her the option of being one of the crowd.

There were no errands to run today, but Celina was still upset by her meeting with the man in the woods. She wanted her mother. She had no idea when she would be back. One of the women, the wife of a shopkeeper, was having a particularly difficult time with her fifth pregnancy. She was barely seven months along, and the baby had tried to come twice already. Celina's mother had only just been able to stop the early labors, and had warned her to stay in bed until the child was born. With four other little ones to watch over, and a very demanding husband, the woman had simply smiled in thanks and paid the fee. If she'd gone into labor again, Celina was certain her mother would allow the early delivery, even if it meant the child might die. It put too much strain on the mother to keep forcing her body to hold the tiny life AND work herself to the bone every day. Her mother had angrily complained to Celina that someone should tell her husband to leave her the hell alone.

When she reached the outskirts of the village, she could hear a woman screaming, and knew her guess had been correct. Celina rushed to the shop only to be met by the man whose wife and child might be at death's door. He glared at her, as if this was all her fault, but moved away from the landing that leads to the stairs and the small apartment above. When she walked in, she noticed immediately that things were not as they should be.

Celina's mother was standing over the woman with a long, curved knife. When she saw her adopted daughter in the entry, she sighed with relief and gestured for her to stand near the bed.

"Celina, the baby is breech and it's determined to come today. I need to cut it out, before it rips its mother in half."

Celina nodded and immediately stood at the head of the bed, holding the woman's hands both comfortingly and firmly. She shopkeeper's wife was wailing in pain and fear. Her eyes rolled back in her head, but before they did, she noticed the dilated pupils. Her mother had chanced giving her some herbs to dull the pain. In spite of that, she was obviously still in a lot of pain. Celina now realized why the shopkeeper had allowed her to come up. Everyone in town knew that this child would likely kill his wife, and no one in town wanted anything to do with it. Let the witch and her demon deal in death. They could hang for it later.

Celina's mother steadied her hand and climbed onto the bed, sitting on the woman's legs. Celina held the woman as still as she could. In spite of their best efforts, both women were nearly knocked off the bed as the pregnant woman bucked wildly when the knife made its first slice. Thankfully, she passed out then, and was still but for a few twitches. Celina watched as her mother's face twisted in intense concentration. It was essential that she save the woman's life, and if the child survived as well, it would be a miracle. If both died, they would likely have to flee before the night was out. Carefully she opened the woman's womb and Celina left the woman's side to get two towels and the water from the basin. It was cold, but that couldn't be helped. When the child finally slipped from the woman's gutted stomach, it moved feebly, but did not cry. Her mother handed the child to her without a word, and went right back to the woman.

Celina wrapped the child in the absorbent cloth and wiped the mucus from its lips and face with a dampened cloth. The woman had a gaggle of girls, and the husband had been hoping for a son. Peeking under the towel, she saw that this child was, indeed, a male. Maybe that would satisfy the shopkeeper, but she doubted it. When the child still didn't draw breath, Celina put her mouth over the child's nose and lips and blew. It took five such breaths, but finally he let out a brief wail. Celina heard her mother sigh in relief. If the boy could breathe on his own, there was a good chance he would live.

Celina washed the child's body, the cold water drawing a few more weak howls of protest, then tied his umbilical cord and wrapped him in a soft, new blanket. She rocked him softly while she watched her mother with the woman. She hadn't immediately sewn her back up. She had taken a very small blade and held it in her hands, with the sharp side in her own palm. Feeling with her fingers, she sought out the small tubes that connected a woman's womb to the small sacs. The witch didn't know exactly what the sacs were, but she knew they had something to do with reproduction. She was aware that a man's balls held his seed, so these were probably similar. One man she had treated for a knife wound to his sac had had the tubes leading from them to his cock severed. He was one of those men who had a wife who was constantly pregnant. After the injury, she'd stopped conceiving. She prayed to the Goddess that it would work the same for this woman, since she couldn't slice the woman's husband. Another baby would surely kill her.

Once she'd severed both the tubes, she removed the afterbirth and sewed the opening up as tightly as she dared. She watched her daughter with the baby and had a twinge of regret that she would never see any grandchildren from her angel. The men of this world would never accept her, except to use her brutally. While she mixed a powerful potion to keep the woman too drowsy to do any work and tear the stitches, but not so much that she couldn't nurse the infant, she yet again worried about her lovely Celina.

The girl was so bright, and talented. In spite of discovering that her daughter had vision that lacked the finer details of normal sight, there were few things that Celina was unable to do. She sewed by feel, she used a reading stone purchased from a traveling merchant to read and write, and had even learned to ride a horse. She used her other senses, particularly smell and touch, when practicing her medicinal skills. She was remarkable, and worthy of much more than this small village could offer her. But moving to a big city would surely result in some fanatic rounding up a mob and stoning the "abomination." It was hard enough to protect her here, where the people feared the wrath of a witch, as well as the haunting forest in which they lived. It was safer here, but so dreadfully limiting. She knew one day Celina would strike out on her own, and she greatly feared that would be the last time she saw her child.

When the woman awoke and saw her living, breathing baby boy, she sighed in relief. When she was told that the birth had damaged her womb and she would likely never conceive again, there was no remorse on her face. She couldn't even feign resignation. It was pure elation. Celina's mother nodded knowingly and accepted the stumbling thanks.

"Alestra, thank you! For everything! I know it was you, thank you, thank you!"

Celina handed her the precious bundle, and the woman watched her with a mixture of gratitude and distress. She was considered unlucky, and rarely assisted in births as a result. Celina knew that from this day on, any misfortune this child had would forever be attributed to the demon that had assisted his birth. Even normal things like childhood illness and acne would be blamed on her. Celina decided at once that she didn't care, so long as he lived. It would be a tribute to her true nature, if he died in bed an old man.

Alestra gave the woman strict instructions to stay in bed and take the medicine twice a day. She repeated the instructions to the woman's husband, emphasizing that if she left the bed for any reason besides relieving herself, she would likely rupture, and his son would surely die. The pride in his eyes at hearing he had a son was enough to reassure the women that he would leave the woman to heal. He wouldn't do anything to risk his boy.

Once they had received payment, the women went to the village well and drew water for much needed drinks. Celina's mother handed her a cup from her medicine pouch, rather than letting Celina use the cups that were tied to the well. The other villagers had made it clear early on that they did not like the demon drinking from their well. This was the compromise they had made. Celina didn't touch anything that touched the water, she used her own cup. After a long drink, Celina asked her mother the question that had been burning in her since she saw the child born.

"Do you really think she will be barren now?"

Alestra contemplated the bucket while pouring a second cup for herself.

"I hope so."

Celina watched her mother drink and accepted her answer. It was never a certain thing any time you messed with the forces of life and death. Only God, or the Goddess, could ultimately choose which. Mere mortals could only do their best, and pray. Celina decided then that she would do just that. She gave her mother a hug, choosing not to bother her with the story of the man who she'd stumbled upon in the woods. Just being together had given her the comfort she needed, and she didn't want her mother to worry and forbid her from going into the forest alone. She had little enough time to herself as it was. They parted, and Celina made her way to the small chapel at the outskirts of town. The friar there made no secret of his fear and hatred for her, but the building itself was beautiful, and she felt closer to God there. The small, stained glass windows threw rainbows of light on her upturned face, and made her prayers feel all the more reverent. Later, when it was night, she would slip into the moonlight and appeal to the Goddess as well.

For once, the friar did not cross himself as she entered and sank into one of the front pews, the light from the windows throwing dappled colors on her silhouette and the large, metal cross hanging on the wall. She thought this was somewhat odd, but didn't make much of it. He could just be distracted, or perhaps had finally decided she wasn't evil incarnate. It should have raised her alarm, however, when he rushed from the room. Instead, she simply continued to kneel, her lips moving soundlessly as she prayed for the woman's quick recovery, the health of her child, and mostly for her womb to be barren.

When she opened her eyes again, she gasped, the peat clad legs of a man filling her vision. She lifted her gaze and saw a very, very angry face. He was close enough that she could focus on his features. If he hadn't been so furious, she would have thought him handsome, his long black hair falling into his blazing, dark brown eyes. The finely shaped raven brows were furrowed, his straight, narrow nose curled, and his mouth was hard with rage. She took it all in a blink, her body responding faster than she could have imagined, sliding sideways and wiggling out of the pew and making a mad dash for the door. She only made it a few meters out of the chapel, her hood flying off her head, when she slid to a halt, falling in the soft dirt of the road, nearly at the feet of several more knights. They all gaped in surprise at the sight of her pale skin and hair, and one actually trembled when his blue eyes made contact with her red ones.