The Inquisitor Ch 31

As the Queen received her pleasure, far below them the princess frantically continued to search the library within the dragon-hold. She abandoned the book of the King's writings, and searched among the scrolls. She opened volume after volume, unrolled scroll after scroll. Though she found plenty of myths and legends and stories of heroes past, she found nothing that might aid her in her plight. None offered any solution or clue as to how to bring about the defeat of an enemy as powerful as the Queen.

Defeated, she plopped down on the low bench at the center table. She hung her head. A feeling of time slipping away faster and faster welled up inside of her. At last, her eye fell upon the writings of the King once again. Though she could not explain it, her mind told her the answer still lay within. It was if a voice sounded inside of her head, urging her to delve deeper into the book.

She opened the volume and read on. She skimmed the elaborate details of his harrowing escape from the darkened prison of the Saracen, of his rescue of the old man, Syr Va'ahl, his companion from across the chasm. She touched briefly the tale of their desperate journey across the burning desert, of their joyful reunion with his kinsmen of the North.

Frustrated, she flipped to the last few stories in the volume. She felt the fleeting of time and hurried on. She noticed the lettering in this portion of the book was different from that before. Though written in the same hand, the ink was shaky and spattered, as if the penman had written it hurriedly.

As the Queen took the device of the Inquisitor in his Chamber of Delights high above, the princess bent her head to one last tale.

- - -

Hearken now as I pen these last words. I fear I have not much time left; the curse has already taken hold. I shall try to bleed out this last tale in hope it may come to aid another in some far distant future. As for my own... I am soon finished.

As my sight fails, I tell you this mournful tale of woe. The song of sorrow that is The Dragon and the Maidens.

T'was many seasons ago, when I crossed the great sea to the north to journey once again to my homeland. Leaving behind most of my kinsmen, we traveled by longboat, shields hung proud along its thick wooden hulls and carvéd rail. Many of my cousins have traveled with me, and at my side, the wise and learned Syr Va'ahl.

Even in the fading light, I can still hear the splash of the long oars in my ear, the beat from the tasker, measuring out strokes on the low drum. I feel the salt wind on my face, and it makes me smile even now. The rasp of my quill calls to my mind the creak of line and the snap of stiff sail.

We sailed south and to the east, back across the icy sea. The Gods of the Sea tried with might of wave and wind to drag us down into the watery depths, but our fleet sailed on, losing but two vessels. O! The cries of those left in our wakes haunts me still.

Land spotted, dark on the horizon, low rolling green hills and stark white marble cliffs rising straight out of the sea. Once again the scent of my homeland filled my lungs, and we sang out mighty songs of war and glory.

At once our fleet descended on the outposts and garrisons so brazenly placed by the Saracen invaders on the shores of my homeland. No more would they stand upon my soil!

We landed below their sight, and a great many bowmen went ashore to attack from land. On sailed we, and rained fire and destruction on them from the sea. From without their walls, arrows rained from our longbows.

Their siege engines hurled flaming balls of pitch toward us, even striking one of our vessels. Oh the screams of the men caught alight on that unfortunate craft. But we returned their flaming missiles with our own, and wrought destruction upon all.

These Saracen outlanders had no knowledge of our secret flames, their contact with their empire severed by distance and sea. But I knew the secret of the terrible flame. What in later years became known as Greek Fire was known to us as well. We tipped our arrows and bolts in the mineral fire of the black rock we spirited away from the Saracen who had imprisoned me.

All day and all night we torn them to shreds, our arrows flaming arcs of death in the night. How I recall the shadows of the men in the garrisons, running this way and that, trying to douse the flames with water, only to find the water made the flames spread even more! I smiled at their destruction; I ate it with jam and toast.

For a season, we laid waste to them, until we drove them into the sea. Our swords were bright with their blood, and they were utterly driven from my realm. I wept at the scourge they left upon my lands, and we went from village to village undoing their wickedness.

"T'was in such a village that I found them. T'was in the burned out hulk of a thatched longhouse I found them, huddled against each other in a tiny cage.

I cannot speak the depth of my love for them... both of them. I was struck by a thunderbolt at their first sight. Even through the grime and muck that marred them, I beheld their beauty, and was thence slain.

Their eyes had the haunted look of prey, and they cringed at my approach, though I only meant to free them, to protect them with my very life. Though I was much older than them, I beheld them and my heart was torn in two. I cursed the heavens and all who marched 'neath the sign of the crescent for the sins they had wrought on these two girls. I vowed on all that was once sacred to love and protect them both until the end of my days.

What wonders clean water, fresh clothes and hot food can do. By eventide, the two wretches I had discovered cowering in their cage had blossomed into two stunning girls of the deepest beauty.

Their hair was long and golden, and shone with new light after ridding them of dirt and filth. The cheeks were rosy and bright, after being scrubbed red by the dowagers who accompanied us. These old ladies fell upon them with love and affection, clucking their tongues and lamenting o'er the abuse their new charges must have suffered, and cooing over them as if they were but babes.

They took them in as their own daughters, and as we traveled, they taught them the old ways of the ancient clans, the tribes of fierce women warriors who wielded the power of earth and skies.

We encountered many outlanders as we journeyed toward my own realm-lands and the refuge of my stronghold. We slaughtered them as wolves. For my own part, I was exceeding cruel, and made each pay his portion for the torture of my new wards.

As for the pair I found in that burned out village, I saw very little of them, so protective were the old ones. They traveled along with us, and from the stories I gathered, took to their studies as a man who thirsts dives headlong into the coldest stream. I let them be, though my heart longed for them. I would not take from them what so many infidels must have forced. I hoped in time to win their hearts as they had smote mine.

It was another long season until we reached the outlands of my realm, and the snow of winter threatened on the peaks of the mountains that ringed them. It was decided to make camp until the snows cleared and the high passes were once again open. I was mad to reach my own keep, but recognized the wisdom of Syr Va'ahl. We had journeyed far inland, league upon league from our ships at the coast. The high passes would make perfect ambush, and the snows might take the rest. Therefore, we found a defensible ridge and valley, and made camp for the winter.

T'was during these long winter months that I grew to know the pair I had rescued. Life in a winter camp lends itself easily to staying indoors around fires, and each evening, we would take the evening meal together, the sisters and I.

Neither of the sisters spoke very much, and would sit quiet for hours at a time, just watching the fire. I was exceeding curious about them, and asked them question upon question. Some they would answer, others not, preferring the crackle of the fire.

I learned they came from a realm not unlike my own country. High in the north, their people were fair-skinned and fair-haired. I learned with horror their own father had sold them into slavery to save his own skin. I cursed his name by all the gods and railed against his cowardice, but they did not stir.

In these days of winter, I sent many scouts over the high mountains to spy out the lands of my realm. The war against the infidels and my imprisonment had kept me from my lands for many, many seasons, and I needed to know if any warlord had claimed my lands as his own. Of course, we would drive them out, but such things need planning, and there is little else to do in winter but plan the spring campaign. Not one of them ever returned, which made me very uneasy.

During one such evening meal, I mentioned the loss of the scouts to the sisters. I told them I was disquieted by no report at all, even one of ill deeds befalling my lands. But nothing at all, it was very unnerving.

To this, the sisters spoke in hushed whispers to one another. It seemed they were almost arguing, but then all at once came to a conclusion. At last, the younger sister spoke.

"My lord," she asked. "Is there a vessel for water here, flat with curved sides, such as a basin?"

I sent for one immediately, and a soldier soon brought me a hammered dish which seemed to satisfy the girls. I watched as the older sister made a small mound of sand, and placed the plate upon it, so that it rested exactly flat. Then the younger sister slowly poured clear water into the dish, until it was very near to overflowing. Then they sat on opposite side of the dish, very still and quiet, until the water in the basin became smooth as glass.

Slowly, they brought forth small cloth bags, and from them took different herbs and plants of the field. One ground them into tiny flakes in her hand and let them slowly sift down onto the surface of the water. Then the other slowly stirred them in, until they were completely dissolved in the water. Then they sat back and waited once more until the water became still and smooth.

At last they both leaned in close over the basin, so that the faces were nearly touching the water, and began to whisper low murmuring chants. They spoke together, their voices low and somewhat frightening, summoning words and phrases of ancient magick.

Slowly, almost as though a trick of the eye, the water began to swirl round the basin and shimmer. To my amazement, I began to see images in the water, moving fast, as if seen by a bird flying over a vast forest canopy.

Slowly I recognized the lands and rivers and fields of my homeland. But they were nothing like I remembered. Here and there were burned trees and scorched earth. Here a house with a thatched roof smoldered, here a woodland creature half burned and dragging itself across blackened grassland.

The images in the basin began to swirl faster and faster, so quickly where I could hardly make them out, until all at once it resolved on a clear image of my former stronghold. It lay in ruin. Battlements toppled, stone broken asunder, trees and fields burned black as pitch.

The sisters sat back from the basin and looked at each other, and the image in the water faded away. Then the younger looked to me.

"My lord," she said in a very low voice. "Your realm has been claimed by a dragon."