Warloc

Time for a reckoning with the Queen of Dilly... and a desperate recovery of Lady Corsa before something terrible happens to her.

John made his way down the stairs and looked around the almost empty common room of the Black Oath. The barkeep was cleaning cups while one of the barmaids from the night before was sleeping the floor.

The barkeep looked up at him and said, "We don't usually have a morning crowd. I've got some bread left over from last night if you want a meal."

"I need to head out. Have my companions come down yet?"

The barkeep nodded at the door. "Already left."

"Well enough then. My thanks for the room," John said and headed out the door.

John rounded the side of the building and made his way to his wagon. Artesia and the same stable girl were harnessing Germaine to his wagon. John glanced around but didn't see Corsa anywhere. For that matter, Zynga was missing too.

"Where's Zephira?" John asked.

Artesia looked up and then around. "Haven't seen her. Did you check her room?"

"Empty," he said. His eyes narrowed. "Zynga?"

Artesia turned away from Germaine and walked toward him. "Haven't seen her either."

John clenched his teeth and clenched his fist around his spear. "Come on," he growled. "The barkeep said she already left."

Artesia checked her sword to make sure it wasn't stuck in her scabbard. Satisfied she hurried to catch up to him. "I have some gold for you," she said. "The stable girl, Manda, arranged a buyer last night. Ten gold."

"Good," John grunted. "Pays for the inn last night. I swear, if that barkeep is behind this, I'll have my gold back and his head!"

"My lord, this is the favored tavern of the city watch," Artesia reminded him. "Perhaps a less direct approach might serve you better?"

John scowled and reached for the door. It was locked.

"I'm going to burn it down," he growled and brought to mind the patterns he need for spells to spark a fire and then expand it to a proper conflagration no bucket-brigade could face.

"What if she's in there?" Artesia asked.

John turned to Artesia. His knuckles were white and his jaw beginning to ache. He turned back and slammed his hand against the door several times. When that yielded no results he raised his spear and slammed the butt against it three times.

"My lord," Artesia said when the tavern remained silent. "The stable girl?"

John spun, his eyes narrowing. He strode back around the building to where the stable girl was finishing up his wagon. "You— Manda— why'd your master lock up?"

She frowned. "You're his only guests. Same as Germaine was the only horse. He don't open until mid day."

"Why won't he answer the door?" John demanded. "One of my companions is missing!"

"The lady with the brown and gold hair?"

"It was just brown," John said.

"My pardon, milord, I thought I saw twists of gold in it," Manda said.

John glanced at Artesia. She nodded.

"Oh, perhaps... I hadn't noticed. Do you know something of her? Did she come out?" John asked.

"I can't say for sure, milord," she said. "I wouldn't be surprised though."

John's eyes narrowed. "What are you saying? What curse is this town under that no one will admit to?"

She glanced over both shoulders before speaking in a hushed voice, "It's the Queen, milord. She married King Temar and, within a fortnight, he was sailing on his ship and it sunk."

John narrowed his eyes. "How does that have anything to do with my friend?"

"The King had no heirs and the Queen was not yet with child. She vowed before the people of Dilly that she would marry no other man, out of respect for the King, but she understood that she, as a woman, was not fit to rule."

John snorted. "That's nonsense!"

Manda shrugged. "It's not for me to say, milord. The Queen vowed that her first male child would rule."

"If she's not pregnant and she's not to wed again..." John sputtered. He shook his head, "That's convenient."

"But milord, she vowed that every many in Dilly would have a chance to be that child's father, starting with them that took the Black Oath of service to Dilly. Because of that, and because woman have no proper place in ruling or owning anything, no woman is allowed to risk looking prettier than the Queen. Them that do... don't for long."

John swore.

"Your lady-friend was a beautiful woman, milord," Manda said.

"Where?" John snapped. "Where would they take her?"

"I don't know and those few that come back never speak of where they been or what was done to them," Manda said. "My guess is the Keep. If not there, they would know... but you'd be a fool to go there."

"Then I'm a fool," John snapped. "I'll have words with this queen and see to it my friend is returned and reparations made."

Manda shook her head, "Please, milord, just leave. You can't save her. It is said the Queen is a witch. Don't think you're the first man to plead his case on the behalf of his woman. Any man that meets her is said to be stricken dumb by her beauty. They leave with a smile on their face and singing her praises. All for the price of their wife, daughter, sister, or lover."

"The whore-queen," Artesia muttered.

Manda gasped. "Speak not such things! Least of all here, where her most loyal men sup."

"Artesia, do you have the gold for that bow?"

Artesia fumbled with her pouch and withdrew the ten pieces and held them out.

John didn't move to take them. "Give them to her," he said while still looking at the wide-eyed stable girl. "Flee this place, Manda. This tavern and this town, if you can. This is not how any woman should be forced to live. I may not be able to undo the wrongs this queen has done, but I will not let her do any harm to those who have shown me kindness."

Manda took the gold with trembling hands. She stared at it and then slipped it into a pocket. She glanced at Artesia and then the wagon and finally back to John. She curtsied. "Milord, I wish you the best... but I fear you will not survive this day. Queen Jaspara always comes out on top."

John froze. After several seconds he turned to Artesia. "Jaspara is the Queen of Dilly?"

She nodded. "Yes, milord."

Seeing that they weren't paying attention to her anymore, Manda backed away and turned to the stable. She ducked into the small office and began to gather her things.

"I didn't know that... and Zynga never shared," John muttered. He scowled and looked around. "Where is she, anyhow?"

"Can't you feel her?" Artesia asked. "You said a wizard has a bond with his familiar."

John closed his eyes and sough the connection to Zynga. He found it and tried to send his magic down it. No sooner did he begin then he lost his grip on the connection and snapped back within himself. He opened his eyes and saw Artesia take a step back and grab the hilt of her sword. "I'm being blocked from her."

Artesia relaxed her grip and asked, "That can happen?"

"Apparently."

Artesia turned to the wagon. "To the keep, my lord?"

John gave a curt nod and strode over to the wagon. He climbed into it and shoved his pack into the chest before locking it. Artesia was ready by the time he finished. He caught sight of Manda stepping onto the road and heading to the west and out of sight. "Let's go," he said.

Artesia snapped the reins and Germaine pulled the wagon forward. John glared at the tavern and toyed with this fingers tracing patterns that were almost the ones necessary to pull the magic needed to start a fire. Only the thought of the barmaid, or barmaids, inside kept him from consigning the barkeep and the building to a fiery demise.

Artesia kept the wagon moving through the growing crowds of the streets and urged it to the right, driving it to the very gates of the keep before turning and parking it outside the walls. She joined John beside the wagon after making certain the wagon would not easily move and the horse was tended.

"You're leaving your things in your trunk?" Artesia asked.

John nodded. "This time I'll risk it," John said.

"Then let's do this."

"Wait," John said. He looked at the wagon and then back to Artesia. "Perhaps you should wait. If I don't return—"

"Then I've failed you," Artesia said. "I owe you my life, my lord."

"This may be the quick way to putting my head in a noose," John warned her. "I'd rather you lived if that were the case."

"I've done many things in my life— been many things, even. Every time I slipped further and further from being someone I liked. That sort of living does things to you. To do the jobs I did, stealing and killing, I had to make myself rougher and rougher. After a while being mean and cruel starts being easy.

"After you killed the others and captured me you've treated me better than I deserved. Better than I had any reason to expect. Maybe I'd do things different than you, but I proved when I was in charge of myself my way made me someone I'm not proud of," Artesia explained. "I'm yours, my lord. I'll fight for you and I'll die doing it, if I must. It's a better death than I deserve for the life I've lived."

"I understand," John said. "If it's all the same, I could use a little of that mean and cruel at my side for this."

Artesia smirked. "Oh, it's still there, you need not worry. If the time comes— when the time comes— You'll have it, my lord."

"Good," John said and led the way to the gate. He slipped into the short line of supplicants and waited impatiently until he reached the open gates.

"State your purpose," the bored guard asked.

"I require an audience with the Queen," John said.

The guard looked him in the eye. "Require it, do ye?"

"Yes, I do," John stated.

The guard looked from John to Artesia. His eyes linger on the cut on her face that still had stitches in it. "Don't be thinking you can treat the Queen the way you treat this one, foreigner."

"I earned this mark by slaughtering bandits, not by my lord's hand," Artesia challenged.

"Three of them, if memory serves," John said.

"What's your reason for seeking an audience?" the guard asked.

"I had a lady with me that I was responsible for seeing safely to her destination. She was taken from me in the night. I will have her back."

The guard struggled not to smile. "And you think the Queen stole this girl?"

"Lady," John corrected him. "I seek only to learn the truth and reclaim her and it was suggested I start here."

The guard shrugged. "You're wasting your time, friend. Perhaps she ran away from you? Or maybe someone else nabbed her. Whatever the case, she's gone and the longer you tarry the farther she gets."

"Is that all?" John asked.

The guard blinked. "Pardon?"

"I said, is that all? As in, are you finished? As you pointed out, the longer I tarry the worse it could be for her."

The guard snorted and swept a hand past him. "Waste your time all you want."

John nodded and strode forward. Artesia stayed at his side and walked across the courtyard to the main palace gates. Guards in front eyed them but made no move to bar or aid their entry. John pulled the door open and strode in, his spear serving as a walking staff that struck the thin carpet on the stone floor with an even cadence. The muffled thud announced his presence better than any herald as he strode through the palace halls and came to wait with only two men ahead of him before the double door into the throne room.

It took several minutes for the line of petitioners to decrease. Guards stood at the ready both outside and inside the throne room, encouraging John to stew silently and to prepare himself for what he might find inside. When the doors opened he glimpsed inside but saw few courtiers. The hall was perhaps thirty feet long and twenty wide. Tables were pushed to the side to make room for a carpet that extended from doorway to the stairs the led up to a dais where the throne sat. John never had a chance to get a good look at the throne before the doors swung shut.

Finally the door opened one last time and the herald stepped up to him. "What's your name, good sir?"

"John."

The herald blinked and took in his fine robes and spear and then Artesia standing beside him. "Just John?"

"Lord John," Artesia suggested.

"Of..."

John shook his head.

The herald sighed. "Very well. Come along and wait until Queen Jaspara addresses you."

John gave a curt nod and walked beside the herald into the room. Artesia followed a half step behind and to John's left.

"My Queen Jaspara, Servant of Dilly, may I present to you Lord John," the herald announced while John's eyes fell on the empty throne.

John's eyes tightened as he shifted his gaze to an ornate wooden chair beside the throne. In it reclined a woman unlike any woman he'd ever seen. Well, that wasn't entirely true... it was better to say she looked like no woman of this world.

Queen Jaspara wore a wine hued dress that was slit to her hips on the front of both legs, allowing their dusky flesh to be bare all the way to the elegant silver wrought sandals that wrapped up around to her ankles. A black corset embossed with a silver belt brought attention to how slender her belly was in direct contrast to her shapely hips and her buxom breasts that stretched the dress beyond what any fabric should be forced to endure.

John's eyes scanned up further, to where a pendant held a black gemstone that seemed to suck the very light from the room into its depth. The crystal pointed down into the deep valley between her breasts. As mesmerizing as her pendant was John kept his eyes rising from her deeply tanned flesh up to her sharp chin and high cheekbones. Her blue-green eyes smoldered with an energy that stole his breath as she stared at him and smiled. Even more impressive than her eyes was the two smoky black horns that rose on the right and left side of her forehead and twisted upwards for nearly two inches. Her silken auburn hair was arranged through the delicate silver tiara she wore.

"My Lord John," Queen Jaspara spoke, her voice somehow mixing smoke and the crispness of a mountain spring. "Not one of Dilly's own, for surely I would remember such a handsome lord. Tell me, my lord, what can this humble woman do for you?"

Each word she spoke battered at John's sanity. He wasn't prepared for this... for her. She wasn't a human woman, she was something else. Something with horns only he could see... the same as he saw Zynga's true nature. Was she like his Mistress? A succubus that had seduced the king and was now seducing the rest of the city.

No, she couldn't be a succubus, she had no wings. No tail either, as far as John could tell. What then?

"My lord? Are you well?"

John pulled himself out of his thoughts. It took a moment, he had further to go than he realized. His infernal side had protected him out of instinct, wrapping itself around him and blunting her dark sorcery.

"I am, thank you for your concern, Queen Jaspara," John said. "In truth, I'm here on two accounts. The latter I'd much prefer to discuss with you under different circumstances."

She inclined her head toward him but he saw her eyebrow raise as she studied him with an unnatural interest. "I am your servant, my lord," she said. "What of the former account, I pray I did not miss it while I was admiring your virility?"

John ignored the heat that warmed his cheeks at her words. "I came to Dilly only last night. Myself, my woman-at-arms, and a lady I am charged with seeing safely to her new home."

Queen Jaspara glanced at Artesia and discarded her just as quick. "I see your guard and her devotion. I do not see this lady you speak of. Where is she?"

"Taken from me in the middle of the night," John said. "Stolen from the very protection promised by the walls and clientele of the Black Oath tavern."

"Oh dear, that is distressing to hear. The city watch are devoted to their duties and this city above all. That's the point of the black oath, after all. Tell me, Lord John, have you spoken to the watch about this yet?"

"Only the man at the gate to the keep. He advised me to give up and move on."

Jaspara frowned. "That's just not acceptable behavior. Herald, have that guard punished for his behavior."

The herald stomped his right foot and said, "At once, your grace."

"Half a moment, Herald," she said. "Do that after."

He hesitated. "After, your grace?"

"Yes, after you cancel court for the day. I wish to get to the bottom of this dilemma Lord John has presented, personally. After that, I feel I owe it to him to listen to the second matter he wishes to discuss with me."

The Herald stomped his right foot again and said, "Your will, my Queen."

"The people's will, Herald. I serve the people, now and forever until I bear the good people of Dilly a son," she said while reaching out to caress the arm of the throne beside her.

"Until then, your grace," the herald bowed and turned to see to her demands.

Jaspara rose from her chair. Her dress fell about her legs and let each step she took down the steps toward him let her extend her long, smooth, and dusky legs. The panels of her skirts slipped between her thighs and shared glimpses of flesh normally reserved for the most intimate of partners.

She stopped before John and curtsied in front of him, bending low and somehow keeping her head up and out of the way so her tiara did not budge and she gave him opportunity to stare past the swinging pendant to cleavage that eclipsed even Jennaca's.

"My lord," she said. "Will you escort me to someone whom I might be able to shed some light on your problem?"

"I would be pleased to do so, your grace," John said and offered her his arm.

She slipped her hand into his arm and John felt another blast of magic wash over him. He glanced down at her arm and saw the black and red smoke from her hand swirling around his arm and trying to find its way into him. John held his magic back and watched, fascinated to see magic so similar to his own at work.

It crawled up his arm and around his chest, embracing him and soothing him. John had to remind himself that this was an enemy, not a loving partner. It crept up his body and sought to slip inside his mouth and nose, but there John turned it away at last. His magic made a wall, sealing it off and refusing entry.

The exchange happened between two beats of his heart, leaving no one the wiser that he'd spurned her advance. John looked up at Jaspara's face, expecting anger or disappointment. Her lips were parted and her smoldering eyes wide. She smelled of exotic perfumes and musk. The very same musk that all aroused man used to lure men to their beds. Except in Jaspara's case it was nearly enough to make John lose his mind. As it was he had to redirect some of his magic to keep his robe from rising.

She guided him toward a door in the side of the room and whispered, "I should warn you, my lord, that I'm finding you irresistible."

"You flatter me, your grace," John said.

"You're a rare person, Lord John," she said while easily guiding him through the palace and down two flights of stairs. "I very much look forward to working with you."

"Returning my companion to me will show good faith and help us align our interests," John said.

"And should I be unable to find her for you?" Jaspara asked.

"With each passing moment I spend beside you I'm more convinced that you are a woman of rare talents," John said.

"She fanned her face with her free hand and said, "You flatter me, my lord. I'm but a humble servant of the people. Your humble servant, should you allow me the honor of ensuring you are pleased with my service."

John allowed a smile. Her magic had caressed him like a snake because that was what she was. A serpent with magical poison that would see to it she came out on top. Much as she'd fooled all of Dilly with her behavior, she sought to lull him into letting her wrap her coils around him and squeeze his will to nothing.