Witch Blood 17
A startled gasp came from the other
side of the door when Rhea knocked. "Anna! Anna! It's me!" The door opened and the
room's shapely occupant looked up and down the hall before ushering her friend
inside.
"What are you doing here?"
Annabelle asked with anxious irritation. "Are you skipping your lesson again?"
"The Baron's servant is here!" Rhea
hissed. "He did some sort of magic to me and it made him pass out! Then Madam ...
uhm ... your mother showed up to scold him and he agreed to do ... something. I
don't know ... I felt like there was a whole conversation going on there without
them saying a word."
"The eerie boy with the pale skin
and the intense blue eyes?" Annabelle asked with concern in her face.
"Yeah," Rhea said with a nod. "How
did you know?"
"I pretty sure he's not human." Anna's
expression was tinged with fear as her deep blue eyes focused on some far away
memory. "I first saw him when I was ten years old ... and he looked like we were
the same age. When I saw him five years later ... he still looked the same." She finally
shivered. Shaking off the worst of her fear, she firmed her expression before
continuing. "I don't know what he is but he's ... he's-"
"Wrong," Rhea finished and her
friend nodded emphatically.
"Yes. Wrong. Just wrong."
"Yeah, I got that too." Rhea shook
her head as she tried to recall the details of her encounter. "He moved me
around like a doll and then put his fingers into my mouth to check my teeth. He
treated me like I was an animal he was thinking of buying. I wasn't a person ...
I was just ... just ..."
"Property," Anna finished bitterly,
and both women nodded. "I don't understand how anyone can be property, but it
happens all the time. Servants and slaves ... it's monstrous but people do it all
the time. Mother's always buying girls contracts so that they can get away from
that sort of life ... but it's everywhere."
The rant seemed to have released
enough pressure for Rhea fall into a chair. Anna let out her breath too and sat
at a desk with several crystals and some maps on it. "Looks like you were crystal
scrying," Rhea said with a motion towards the maps. "Any luck?"
"I think so," Anna said with a look
that said she was grateful for a new conversational topic. "The church has
something of yours but I don't know what it is. Maybe it's the stone or maybe
it's something else. I don't know. I only know that something is there."
"Well, we have to get it tonight,"
Rhea told her.
"Not a chance," Anna said with a
shake of her head. "Now that he's here, do you think she'll risk you running
off now?"
"Well ... maybe ... uhm ..." Every
thought that Rhea could gather was a horrible one and they would likely get her
caught by one group or another. Most of what she thought about saying would
hurt her friend and so she chose silence. Anna took a breath as if she planned
to speak but she too let it out without words.
She
knows I'll fight if she tells me no so she's letting me figure it out. Curse
her, but she's right! Predictably, her mind began to spin. Potential courses
of action came and went. Too many reasons against stacked up and she clenched
her jaw in frustration. All of her plans were tipping over the edge of a cliff
and the last of her options were tumbling after.
"Once I go over to this ... master,"
Rhea said with bile in her throat, "I don't know what's going to happen. I'll
probably never see you again. I don't think I'll ever make it home. I ... I want
to save Lyle ... but I don't know how." Tears formed in her eyes and she grew
angry at their presence. "Anna ... what do I do?"
"Maybe," Anna began but then she
stopped.
"What?" Rhea asked, but Anna shook
her head. "Tell me, Anna! Even if it's a stupid idea ... tell me!"
"Beorgas might ... well ... he might be
able to help." Anna hesitated, but then her voice grew stronger as she
continued. "He's a noble warlord, and he plays games of power with others like
him. Faeries, trolls, ogres ... all of the monsters we heard about in stories are
real ... and their nobility is always trying to one-up each other. Beorgas calls
it The Great Game and if he helps you
out then you owe him a favor ... and so do I."
"Oh no, Anna," Rhea whined as she
put her head in her hands, "I don't want to get mixed up in the games of any
noble ... much less monstrous ones!"
"Rhea," Anna said sternly, "you
have been sold to a baron. He has a creepy not-quite-human servant. What do you
think the baron is?"
"Uh ... I have no idea," Rhea admitted,
and then she thought about it. "Oh sheep-turds."
"Yeah," Anna said with a smirk at
the curse.
"He's one of them," Rhea said as
her eyes went wide. "One of them! Anna!
What am I going to do?"
"You're going to play The Game," Anna told her with a spark of
mischief in her eyes. "I'll be one of your allies, but you need to be ready to
play."
"But ... you think ... uhm ..."
"Stop," Anna told her. "Don't
panic, just face one problem at a time or they'll overwhelm you."
"Right," Rhea said with a nod. She
took a deep breath and then focused. "Alright, first we need to make it so that
you can actually help me. We need to do the ritual right bloody now. Once
you're gone, I'll clean up and then we can meet later."
"Okay," Anna said with a smile.
"What's the baron's name ... White?"
"Yeah," Rhea said, "I think that's
it."
"Okay, I'm sure Beorgas will be
able to tell me more about him." Anna's eyes began to burn with the intensity
of a player at a game of stones.
She's
calculating her next move, Rhea realized. I hope I can learn enough about this game so that I don't get knocked
off of the board.
"Your mission is to find out all
you can about your baron," she continued. "I'll find a way to visit you or make
contact through letters. I'm so glad you're literate. This would be so much
harder if you were just a bookless sheep herder." Rhea shivered at the thought
but said nothing about it. "Okay. That'll work. Let's get started."
"Okay," Rhea agreed and the pair of
them set to work.
Moving through the halls to gather
up their ingredients took more time than Rhea was initially prepared for. The
night's first customers were all being seen to and several of them were already
in bed with their mistress. Rhea still blushed a little as she passed the rooms
but she was amused to discover that she was perversely excited by the sounds.
She had seen every one of the other women naked and watching them bring strange
men to completion no longer shocked her. Still, she was not sure she was ready
to do the job herself.
The supply closets held everything
they did not have already stashed away, and both were able to return in good
order. Rhea set herself to chalking symbols, while Anna filled bowls and set
out the appropriate items in the correct places. Once the two women were
satisfied, they knelt on opposite sides of the circle and began a deep
breathing meditation.
All magic required a power source,
a guide or channel for the power, and then a goal. The power source could be a
person's personal life energy but that was dangerous, and it was better to draw
in power from the environment or to summon it to a caster through the power of
human emotion. Anger, joy, sorrow, and laughter were all good sources of power,
but it was difficult to maintain any of those for long. That was why Rhea
meditated on clearing away such emotions and all of the stray thoughts that
went with them.
The pair of young women had talked
at length about this spell and the ritual they would need to bring it to life.
If they channeled the power through themselves then their seals would flare and
the pain could shock them unconscious or kill them. All of the power would need
to come from outside of them and they would need to guide the energy into a
circle where they could work it at a distance.
Another complication of the spell was
the people involved. Magic is a personal thing an a spell wrought with another
requires a personal bond. To Rhea, this type of weaving was like stripping
naked and slipping into a bedroll together to share body heat. She knew she
would not mind slipping into a bedroll with Anna but they had to keep their own
energies separate from the magic and it would be difficult if her own lust was
trying to get in the way.
"Are you ready?" Anna asked in the
far away tone ritual.
"I am ready," Rhea responded as
they had practiced.
"Focus on the circle," Annabelle's
voice echoed. "We are not the vessels of the spell, only its guide. Let the energy
flow around us and let the circle gather it in. We shall only guide ... we shall
not channel ... we shall only guide."
A chanting rhythm was quietly
spoken between the pair of them and the energy around them began to move. The
building, the grounds around them, and every person inside resonated with carnal
power and the pair of them directed that energy like shepherds corralling their
flock. This particular sheep, however, had a will all its own.
Lust is one of the great forces of
the world. It could grant courage to those who are normally weak and drive wise
rulers to hideous acts of unconscionable stupidity. Lust was the driving force
to create, a desire for pleasure, and love's unruly cousin. Tapping into the
brothel's reservoir of sexual energy was like trying to grip a slithering eel
made out of fire. Rhea had to suppress giggles as the power wriggled around
her. She was careful not to let the power into her but some of it always bled
through.
Rhea held tightly to the idea of a
sheep herding shepherdess, and gradually the energy began to pool into the
coral. Salacious desires bumbled about in a haze of organic hind-brain
activity. Men grunted and strained with enthusiasm, but they were prey. The brothel
and its women sheered them of coin, bled them of energy, and guarded their animals with the fever of
territorial wolves. All of that passion flowed around them ... and the witches
directed it into their circle.
Candles burned down to nothing but
their glow was replaced by the light of the symbols etched in chalk, filled
with magic, and resonating with barely contained readiness. Rhea fought against
her desire to reach out and touch that power. Channeling energy like this would
fill her with an ecstasy so pure she was certain she would orgasm herself
unconscious. The temptation to embrace that teased her for hours but she knew
her seal would not let it be so. If so much energy came at her she might burst
into flames ... or her heart might stop from the shock of it all. Whatever
happened, it would be horrible ... and she didn't want to die yet.
Focus ... stay the course ... focus ... let the
circle flow.
Again and again she turned the
power like a great wheel. Round and round until the ball was big enough for
their purposes. The shift came on suddenly but she compensated. Anna was the
skilled crafter. Rhea was the steady anchor. Together they worked until the
portal took form. "Good-bye Rhea! I'll
find you!" Anna's voice split through their world and then there was a
flash of light. Everything rose to a fevered pitch and exploded in a crescendo
of light and sensation. Rhea grit her teeth as the seal on her chest sensed the
energies but she managed to push enough of it away to avoid a flare of agony.
Then everything went quiet.
Unquenchable desire slid along her
surface and pulsed through Rhea's veins. She curled into a ball, clenching
herself tight in an effort to burn off the access tension. More than anything
she wanted to thrust her hands between her legs and touch herself like some
mindless beast. She wanted to stomp down to the second floor, kick open the
nearest door, and slide herself between a struggling couple. She wanted to
gather up two or three men and have them penetrate all of her parts. She wanted
ten men, all in a circle, pleasuring themselves as they watched until they covered
her in layer upon layer of thick hot seed. She wanted ...
Squeezing herself into a tighter
ball did not help. Even if I did all of
that, the seal would burn me before I could cum. The body still wanted,
though, and she could feel the distant throb along her chest with every beat of
her heart. Enduring the residual power was not quite agony but it went on for a
small eternity of unquenchable desires and needs not completely her own.
The night moved well past the hours
of common revelry and stumbled towards the last stretch of mindless passion.
The sooty stink of burnt out candles teased her nose but the other senses
detected little. On hands and knees, Rhea felt her way through the dark until
she managed to draw back thick curtains and push open the window. Real glass
had been brought in and the simple country girl wondered if she would ever take
it for granted.
The night was clear and the moon
was bright. "Light be with you, Annabelle," she told the wind. "I'll see you on
the other side." Rhea inhaled deeply and let the night fill her. Then she
turned to the task of cleaning up all traces of what had happened here. Wax was
scraped into a pile and water was pitched out the window. Salt was recaptured,
for it was too valuable to discard, and the floor was scrubbed, first with sand
and then with soapy water. Distant squeaks and grunts carried on through the
night but Rhea focused on her work with a will.
Eventually the first glimmers of
daylight peaked in through the window and Rhea was able to look upon her work.
Not a trace of what they had done here could be seen with the naked eye and the
psychic residue would be difficult to trace. When she was satisfied, Rhea went
back to her bedroom. She flopped onto her bed with a feeling of true exhaustion
in her bones. A moment later there was a knock and she mumbled incoherently as
the door opened.
"Wha-phor-morum-pa?"
"It is time," replied the intruder.
Rhea pushed herself into an almost sitting position and then realized it was
dark outside ... and Annabelle was standing at her door. The surprise of it
brought her the rest of the way into consciousness and she suddenly realized it
was Venita, Anna's sister.
"Time ... yeah ... right." Rhea finally
got to her feet and looked around her small room. "There really isn't anything
here that's mine." Her comment had not really been a conscious one but the
woman at her door let out a non-comital grunt. Rhea looked back at the other
woman and saw a storm of emotions on her face. She knows something is wrong. Is Anna missing yet? Will there be
trouble?
"Come on," Venita grumbled. "I've
got things to do."
"Alright," Rhea said as she went to
the mirror and made a disgusted sound. "Uhm-"
"Hurry up and bathe," Venita told
her harshly. "You're someone else's problem now." Rhea blinked in surprise at
Venita's anger. There was something else going on that she did not yet know
about and she had a terrible feeling that the young woman would explode in a
fit of rage if she pressed.
Gathering up a few objects and a
dress that she liked, Rhea was escorted to the baths. She went through her
usual routine, scrubbed herself thoroughly, and then settled into the tub.
Closing her eyes, she tried to order her thoughts. There was so little
information about what was to happen next but she knew it would not be
pleasant.
The door opened and someone
entered. Rhea opened her eyes and balked at what she saw. The overly pale
servant boy stepped into the room wearing a towel and nothing else. He carried
a large bucket which contained a pile of things half as large as he was. The
floor caught the bucket with a loud -thunk- and the towel was tossed away.
"Uhm ... excuse me," Rhea said, as he
dumped the contents into a pile and began filling the bucket with water. "I'm
kind of naked here."
"Mmhmm," the boy grunted without
looking at her.
"Uhm ... privacy?" Rhea told him a
little more sternly.
"Why?" he asked as he began
lathering up his body and running a brush across his skin.
"Because I'm a woman and you're a
boy!" Rhea scolded him. "Because it's inappropriate for you to see me like this!
Because-" she stopped suddenly as her eyes landed on several bruises on his
otherwise flawless skin. Two half-circles were bruised alone his neckline and
several other wounds were on his back, arms, and legs. The wounds caused her to
study him further and she recognized the long thin strips of knife scars which
ran along his arms and flanks. "Nathaniel, right?" she asked, and the boy
nodded. "What did you do to repay Madam Bellisa?"
"Only what she desired," Nathaniel
told her unhelpfully. The brush never stopped working and he managed not to
wince once as rough bristles rolled over swollen skin.
"Can you tell me what she had you do?"
"No." The word was plane, short,
and final. The angles of his face sad there would no more discussion on this
topic.
"So ... when are we supposed to
leave?" Rhea finally asked when it didn't seem like she could avoid the topic.
"After this bath we shall have a
meal," Nathaniel told her flatly. "After that meal we shall leave."
"What?" Rhea asked in a start.
Nathaniel repeated himself in the same dull tone as if it was common for him to
do so. The sounds of his scrubbing filled her ears. Water poured over his body
and all that had been there before seemed to wash away. The bruises were not so
bad, the scars were difficult to see, and all of his wounds were suddenly days
old. "So ... that's it? No party, no goodbyes, just ... gone?"
"Did you waste your day?" the boy
asked and his shockingly blue eyes turned to look at her. Rhea sank in the
water up to her neck and gripped the side of the tub. She still felt like he
could see her but there was something else in his eyes as well.
"No," she insisted. "I was busy ...
but then I fell asleep! I've been forced onto a night schedule, you know!"
"That is good," he told her as his crystal
eyes continued watching. "The master will require you to tend to him at night,
so you will sleep during the day."
"You can't be serious," Rhea
scoffed.
"Very serious," Nathaniel spoke
without inflection. "Now, if you are finished. I would soak before having a
final meal."