The Red-Haired Night

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The Red-Haired Knight 17

Malle on Holy Ground

The Lady left Apple Valley, still in disguise, lacking the codpiece but drawing the hooded cloak over her head to hide her most recognizable feature— her flaming hair. Her confrontation with Julian, her Marechal, had taken a lot out of her. Was it the strain of the previous ride through the plains? The massacre of the forlorn Hope?

The Lady was drained because she had, for the first time, ritually cursed a person. Neither she nor Julian realized this, yet. Her powers were expanding, but Malle had not the strength for it. The Prestige, the mystique of the Lady, enhanced her, but diminished Malle, the woman.

Here, the Lady rode, slumped in the saddle, her escort Ecna's and Jeremi's steppe warriors indifferent. Fine Folk were strange, moody, fragile; this was not out of the ordinary. Their job was scouting and protection that they would do. After a day's travel due south, the plains became more forested; first, just the isolated pine on the sandy soil, then the hardwood groves in the stream gullies, and finally, the dense woodland.

There were few paths into the dense forests from the north and none from the east, this was an unlikely path for invasion.

After a rough breakfast of tea and trail porridge, the Lady ordered the reconnaissance to leave the forest and skirt the lightly frosted area in a westerly direction. As before, they avoided the camps and fortlets that the Fine Folk cavalry had established to guard the horse herds.

The Lady had no vision of trouble here. Her body rebelled from the time in the saddle and the power drained from her by the curse on Julian. She ended the reconnaissance and sent the steppe warriors back to Ecna and Jeremi. She had no need to travel that far west. She knew she needed to reach Holy Ground and become healed of whatever was attacking her body.

Julian had a mission. He had to break off relations with his high-born Apple Valley mistresses. All five of them. The mere mention of the Lady was enough for four of them to understand the necessity for breaking off the relationship. Few would risk the wrath of the Witch Lady of Prosperous Valley.

The fifth was the most beautiful, the most intelligent, and the most learned of the five. In fact, she was the daughter of a Wisewoman and well trained in the Arts, herself, for one so young. In her youthful arrogance and confidence in her powers, she scoffed at the curse of the Lady. She sensed the curse herself, although Julian had no notion of the curse or its power.

She would seduce Julian and make him forget his promises to the Lady.

She powerfully stiffened his phallus to an extent he had never known before, creating a lust so powerful, he lost any fear of the Lady. The youthful noblewoman offered him her virginity and the chance to produce heirs for a dynasty of Apple Valley lords and ladies that would supersede the Lady and the Prosperous Valley.

Progeny as numerous as the gravel in the Great River. The union was consummated, but in horror. The young woman was pierced painfully by the enormous phallus that she had created and filled with Julian's seed, a black seed that made her sterile and drove her mad.

Shrieking in horror, Julian left his witch-come-lover naked, mounted his palfrey and rode due east to the Goose Valley.

The Lady entered the Holy Ground on her steppe pony, still dressed as a man and hooded. The Keepers challenged her, as she rode on sacred ground. Sacred Ground is only to be approached on foot, and barefooted. As Malle, she begged pardon, dismounted, removed her footwear, and turned to whisper in her mount's ear. The brave, strong, small horse nickered a response, and spun about to return to his stable in the West.

Malle removed the hood and the unimpressed keepers, simply nodded, and led her to a place of retreat. The Lady was just Malle on sacred ground, another retreatant, a penitent, a soul in need of repair.

Malle sat, still attired as she arrived, and told her story to the retreat director. It came to her as she rode to Holy Ground the enormity of her curse. She had lost her Marechal and destroyed the life of a young woman. True, a witch that had defied her Lady, but still a terrible fate.

The Director stated that it was, indeed, a horrible thing, but the Lady, as leader, had a right to defend herself and her realm from usurpation. But Malle, the woman, then must be cleansed of this crime.

The Holy Ground made it known that 'The Lady' was on a course of spiritual renewal, so as better to lead the Valley in time of trial,

In truth, Malle needed rebuilding so she could function as a woman, before donning the mantle of Lady again.

A simple life of prayer, walking the gardens of the Sacred Ground, and feeding the poor of the Valley, with hours of study. Her powers were needed to safeguard the Valley, but Malle had become the Lady without adequate preparation and her supernatural gifts had come to her willy nilly, draining her psyche.

In a time of crisis, there was not much time, the cautious nature of the Mages of the East were a gift of the gods. After a month of work, rest ,and contemplation, Malle found herself spending many hours in the library of Sacred Ground; especially drawn to the area of arcane studies. She was drawn to a large book, encrusted with jewels, and chained to a battered reading desk. The heavy boards thumped loudly on the table, despite her efforts to open it carefully. Malle looked about as if expecting a scolding from the librarian.

Her eye was drawn to the page onto which the book had opened. There, on the right-hand page was a drawing of the being she had seen in her flight from her body during the Ritual Dance of Spring. The facing page had text explaining that this was a mythical creature that had never lived. Nonetheless, Malle knew, and the Lady needed to know, that the Beast DID exist and was a threat to her and the Valley.

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