FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Just one of these days

Chapter 7

A week later, we were ready.

As ready as we had a hope to be.

I have to say, my nerves were set tighter than a harp string as Argy and I accompanied Dad to the King's palace, the formal dinner acknowledging our hard efforts and pending disaster as welcome as a plague rat. With my guts nauseated in a way I rarely experienced, the thoughts of eating anything whatsoever sent my churning stomach asunder.

I wasn't normally like this before a mission. It was just this was so much bigger; so much more important; than anything I'd been asked to manage previously. The sombre dragon pacing beside me had confided his own doubts to me earlier, gushing out his fears in a moment of weakness as we waited to leave, and while I felt slightly better knowing I wasn't alone in my concerns, I still had trouble putting them aside for the evening of revelry the King planned in our honour.

Dad was unusually silent, which didn't settle my nerves any. While not one to be overly verbose at the best of times, he usually provided a running, muted commentary on the foibles and vices of the people we were to mingle with, using every opportunity to further my education. Entertaining at times, and usually very informative, even if the target of such words would have been scandalised to overhear them. Tonight, he was clammed shut tighter than a whore's wallet.

I tried prompting him a few times, but he wasn't having a bar of it, telling me in no uncertain terms to shut my mouth and keep my eyes open. When I hissed “open for what" he glared at me, and replied “Everything, Cam!" Again, not reassuring, but if I'd learnt one thing, he had a reason for everything he did, so I didn't hassle him further, and did as I was told.

Of course, nothing adverse actually happened, which set my teeth on edge further. We mingled, and accepted the multitude of congratulations for successfully preparing for such an auspicious event, and that was it. Hours wasted on the flunkey's and perfunctionary, and it was all nice and sweet enough to have me want to vomit.

About half way through the evening, Dad excused himself from our side, which was both a blessing and curse given his hovering “harbinger of doom" attitude, saying he had some things to do, and to watch my back while he was gone. I didn't ask him to elaborate further, as I knew when he was like this I had no chance of prying anything from him. Instead, I just sent a worried glance to the dragon, who I could sense was already strung tight enough to play, and concentrated on looking out for trouble.

The trouble was, I couldn't find any, anywhere!

As the evening wound down just short of midnight, I began to relax, thinking the risks had finally passed. In fact, for a change the invitation to join His Majesty for a private drink came as something of a relief, having been bombarded by enough pretentiousness already from the nobles attending, so as Argy and I stepped away from the main throng to join the King in a small, sheltered alcove just off the main hall, I smiled for the first time that evening.

His highness even honoured us by pouring our glasses himself, a tribute almost unheard of as he raised his wine and smiled, congratulating us on our successful planning, and wishing us the best of luck on our journey's commencement in two day's time.

The dragon smiled brightly at the praise, stepping forward to bow, and I chuckled inwardly at the ingratiating ways he'd developed to fit so well into human company. I joined him then, accepting my own congratulations, and was ready to respond, when something incongruous had me pause.

I had trouble placing it for a moment, but my mind acted quicker than I'd have expected, the minimal alcohol I had consumed over the evening combining with my training, giving me the edge I'd have otherwise lack.

The guards around us! Damn it, I didn't know any of them!

And on my father's insistence, as part of our work I knew all of them, every last one; by name, family history and vice!

A cold shiver ran down my neck at that moment, but I picked up where I'd paused, my words flowing smoothly even as my mind crunched through the danger. Five guards, all strangers, and a sixth I couldn't quite identify, although there was something about him that rang alarm bells…

I am good, I know, but there was a limit to how smooth one could be under such circumstances. I guess I must have hesitated just long enough for the unknown officer to realise I'd made them out as, with a shout, he yelled at his men to attack!

Perhaps Argy spotted my earlier alarm, as I had barely verbalised my own warning when he spread his wings, screeching at the nearest as he drew a deep breath to spit a long stream of fire at the man. The human didn't have a chance, the flaming liquid engulfing him as he screamed in agony, arms flailing as he fell back several feet to fall to the floor, where he writhed in pain. Another of the attackers lunged at the dragon's unprotected back, and I didn't hesitate, sending one of the throwing knives I'd hidden beneath my gowns to graze Argy's hide in flight, before plunging to the hilt in the man's right eye socket.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a pair lunging for the King, drawn blades held aloft ready to end the man, and a small part of my mind realised I wouldn't make it before they descended, but Argy was closer, leaping forward with a speed I hadn't seen him use before, swiping one across the neck with the claws on his wing, slicing his throat to almost sever his head, while a swift kick from his rear paw sent the second sprawling to land well out of harm's way.

Seeing the matter being handled, I turned to the final pair and their leader, who had thrown his head back to better coordinate the attack. A part of me wasn't surprised, seeing Buttock's snarling visage confronting me, even as I kicked out, spearing one of the pair with the concealed dagger in my shoe, the fast acting poison leaving him a shuddering, groaning heap at my feet as I straightened to send another dagger at Buttocks, who threw his remaining man before him, his colleague taking my blade in the shoulder.

Cursing myself for not bringing more weapons, I dived to the side as the officer dropped his screaming shield, reaching for a dagger that he tossed at me with a curse. I dodged, the blade going wide and I almost smiled at his incompetence until a loud grunt echoed from behind me. I saw Buttocks laugh harshly then, a sneer across his face as he spun and sprinted towards the exit to the balcony outside, even as a squadron of the real king's guards broke into the chamber, swords drawn and eyes wide at the carnage within.

“He's getting away, you fuckwits! Follow him!" I screamed then, gesturing wildly to the closing fabric hangings set swinging as the man made his escape. Several rushed to follow, giving me the opportunity to spin back to see where the ill-fated dagger had landed.

I blanched, seeing Argy lying crumpled against the wall, the blade deep in his shoulder joint weeping blood. The King knelt at his side, having torn a sleeve off his gown to press against the wound, mindless of the damage to the finery, as the dragon sought my eyes, a dry grimace on his muzzle as I rushed to his side, followed with the few remaining Guards not chasing Buttocks.

“Owww…" Argy said wryly, craning his neck to examine the wound as I added more cloth from my dress to the area. Withdrawing the blade with a quick movement, I pressed down hard on the dressing, my eyes meeting his in mute warning. He snarled regardless, nostrils flared in pain, and the guards starting at the sound. To his credit, the King didn't flinch, giving the dragon a measured look returned from slitted eyes..

“You took the blade for me, dragon." He finally said softly, and Argy shrugged, ready to reply, when his eyes widened hugely as he spasmed, back arching to send the King sprawling backward, where he landed hard against the wall as the dragon began convulsing wildly.

“Hold him down, you idiots!" I screamed at the guards, who had initially backed off in panic, ready to protect the King. His Highness emphasised my call, yelling at them to comply, and they reluctantly raced forward, grabbing the scaled flesh in strong hands holding down the bucking dragon as I quickly retrieved the dagger from where I'd tossed it, smelling the blade and cursing my foolishness.

Arrarat. The assassin's poison. The blade that bastard had thrown was never meant for me at all. Buttocks had much higher aspirations for the blade. Indeed, it was only the quick actions of the dragon that the attempted regicide had been thwarted.

For the first time in as long as I could recall, I momentarily panicked, although a detached part of me was surprised the dragon was still alive, and I cursed myself as I brought my attention back to his plight busying myself at his wound. Retrieving a dagger from one of the struggling guards, I dug deeply into the wound, freeing up the blood flow as the wound spurting fresh ruby. Argy screamed then, spurting fire towards the ceiling, and I shouted at the men to hold him tighter as I groped in my robes for my poisons kit. Dad had always drilled into me the necessity in taking it everywhere with me, and I usually complied at the hassle, thinking it a bit pointless given the fast acting nature of many of those poisons in regular use would not give one the time to apply any antidote before its effects immobilised you. At this moment, I was glad as hell I had it, ripping apart the thin canvas and stuffing as much of the absorbent antidote-impregnated moss deep into the wound as I could.

Argy passed out then, collapsing heavily into our arms as his breathing, increasingly ragged, rasped from his mouth. Grasping his head, I pulled open his jaws without caution, although still wary of the sharp teeth as I shoved more moss down his throat, followed by other general purpose heal-all's I had handy from the kit, hoping and praying it'd be enough.

I'd almost tuned out to the goings on around me so when I felt a touch on my shoulder, I shuddered, looking up into the blood splattered visage of his Highness, who grasped my shoulder briefly and pushed another dressing over the wound. Not caring about his finery, he offered his mute assistance, and I accepted gratefully, the guards being of little help other than muscle.

The King's eyes rose from the dragon to look behind me, as a heavy hand on my shoulder announced the arrival of my father, who quickly assessed the situation with a grim visage. At the King's questioning look, he nodded sharply and said “They cornered him on the catwalks. He tried to climb down a waiting rope ladder, but was prevented. The guards roughed him up a little, but he'll survive. Same with these other two" he gestured at the pair being restrained across the room by the guards, who then dragged them away at the King's curt nod.

He turned to Dad then and said quietly “Do you know who is responsible?"

Dad shook his head, but muttered darkly “I do plan on finding out, however, your highness. Assuming I have your leave to question them?"

The King nodded abruptly. “As far as I am concerned, they have forfeited their lives. Do what you must, but I want to know who is responsible for this fiasco."

“I'll take care of it first thing in the morning, Your Highness, when things calm down" Dad reassured him, but I think he was as much speaking to me as the King, as he glanced at my dead expression, the dragon's head cradled in my lap held by hands still shaking uncontrollably.

It took time, but within the hour, we had transferred Argy to a nearby chamber, resting his heavy body as carefully as we could onto a mound of pillows scavenged from nearby rooms, as the court physician attended to his wound. The fact he praised me for my quick actions, likely resulting in my saving the dragon's life, did little to comfort me as I watched him breathing, eyes lidded and hide shaking from the side effects of the Arrarat.

Dad, seated at a large desk across the room, noted my silence, and again promising to deal with the culprits later. I didn't reply, stroking Argy's soft scaled neck as he lay unconscious. Eventually, Dad patted my shoulder and left to make sure the guards had castle security under control, so no further untoward issues rocked the palace.

Finally, after an awkward silence, I turned to the physician and said in a dead voice “Will he live, do you think?"

The doctor shrugged, sighing deeply as he gave the dragon a quizzical look. “I don't know, Lady Camilla. By all rights, with the amount of poison he likely took, he should be dead. Had it been you or the King struck, there would have been no contest; you'd have been quite dead. I guess then that dragon physiology is different to our own. He lives, and breathes for the moment, so take comfort in that. His condition has stabilised, so I am hopeful, but we can only wait."

Resting in a chair nearby, he gave my pale visage a studied look and offered to take over from watching the creature, suggesting I should get some rest, as there was nothing further we could do for the dragon for the moment apart from keep vigil. I hesitated, a cold dread filling me as I contemplated leaving, but it was soon replaced by the icy grip of fury as I chewed over the evening's drama, leaving me shaking again as I rose to wish the doctor a good night, after he again promised he'd let me know the moment Argy's condition changed for better or worse.

But rest was not on my mind as I shut the door quietly behind me. Striding to the main service entrance, rather than head upstairs to our palace suite, I took the stairs to the right leading down to darker places, bypassing the servant's quarters and the corridor to the kitchen, to take a little used pathway that lead to the labyrinth beneath the keep.

The catacombs were deathly quiet; a stark comparison to the brightly lit halls upstairs that might have once caused a momentary amusement, but that mood was currently far away as I finally reached my destination; the dungeons.

The present King had little use for the place, although his father before him had been much less liberal. Back then, the place was a crowded cesspool of filth and depravity, with the then King convinced in his demented psychosis that half the kingdom was out to get him. His son, thank the Gods, didn't share his paranoia, and in recent years, apart from housing a few more serious criminals, the place was largely abandoned. Tonight, however, was the exception.

Stepping through the creaking dungeon door, heavy planking banded with rusted steel reluctant to open at my touch, I startled the dungeon keeper, who had been checking the bindings of the three newly admitted prisoners.

Bound by their limbs to heavy beams set into the massive rock pillars supporting the castle above, all three were the worse for wear, bruising and bloody from their exploits. The two grunts barely acknowledged my entry, although Buttocks lifted a bloodied, swollen eye to regard me dryly, split lip offering a leer as I stepped quietly to the Dungeon Master, who regarded my presence with surprise.

“You shouldn't be here, milady!" he started, but I interrupted, giving him a false smile that disguised my hatred beneath.

“His highness sent me down to ensure these three had given you no problems" I explained blithely, my winsome smile confusing him further as I told him that the captain of the Guards, on word from his Majesty, had requested he report in person that the prisoners were secure.

Looking around a little wildly, the man stuttered “I don't know that I should leave here, milady. I have orders…" but he wound down as I shrugged and said “Well, if you don't want to follow his Majesty's instruction, I can understand… Still, not sure I'd want to be in your shoes if he takes offence…"

Confused, and a little alarmed, he nodded frantically, but looked somewhat mollified as I pulled a long dagger from beneath my skirts and, after waving it around, said airily “Besides, I think I can handle a couple of bound brigands all by myself, don't you think? They look well secured. How much trouble could they possibly cause?"

Still clearly doubtful, the moment he turned to retrieve his keys I knew then I'd at least partially won him over. Muttering beneath his breath, he left the room, carefully locking the door behind him and leaving the four of us alone, at last.

An isolation compounded thrice as I dropped the three heavy beams barring the door from the inside, effectively making the room impregnable from without.

Buttocks sneered again, coughing harshly to spit blood onto the stone floor as he rasped “Nicely done, bitch. I assume you're here to pump me for information as to who arranged tonight's excitement. Well, ask away. I'm not giving your whore ass anything!"

I didn't deign to acknowledge his bravado, instead dragging a large brazier of coals across the stone floor from against the far wall, the shriek of steel scraping stone echoing loudly in the confined space. In the past, the small bellows mounted on its side testified to its intended use to heat torture implements, although its current task was simply to warm the dank, chill chamber from the chill beyond.

That evening, I had no hesitation in returning it to its former, darker employment.

Picking up several iron pokers from a wall bracket nearby, I gave their cold iron a careful scrutiny before plunging them deep within the glowing coals, my silent pumping of the bellows bringing them to a glowing ebb, their tips almost white hot.

Cursing and swearing at my silence, I paused to wipe sweat from my brow and meet his eyes. I'm not sure exactly what he saw in them then, and honestly I don't know if I ever want to truly know, as he shrank back, his bravado lapsing, before he began a frantic, futile struggle against his bonds. I didn't say a word, instead returning to my task, the only sounds permeating the dark being my grunts as I worked the equipment, their increasingly frantic cries, and the roar of the fire pit so loud in the confined space, as sparks fountained from its depths to meet the stone ceiling above.

Satisfied with my preparations, I stepped forward to the three, one of the glowing steel rods held in a heavy, padded, hessian mitt I'd pulled over my left arm to protect myself from the extreme heat. At my approach, the grunt's increasingly panting gasps became a stark counterpoint to Buttock's frantic vitriol.

Finally, the officer broke, screaming at me his defiance that he would never give me the information I wanted, no matter how I threatened him. I smiled then, a smile that never left my lips, teeth shining in the ruby light, as I reached up to pat him softly on the cheek, causing him to flinch from my touch with a curse.

“Why, Buttocks, I believe you. Truly I do. In fact, I don't believe any measure of torture could draw the truth from you. So, I don't plan on even trying to gain such information."

I turned away from him then, aware of the momentary relief that crossed his features as I smiled at his two men and whispered. “No, I believe you truly are a man of your word. You see, my intention is simply that I am going to show your men what I will do to them if they, in turn, fail to provide the information you refuse to release. I am going to show them in slow, graphic detail, Buttocks what will happen to them if they choose to resist."

At his realisation, I spun and smiled fully into his face, lips nearly caressing his cheek and my slightly crazed eyes wide as I speared the glowing steel deep into his abdomen through his writhing, searing flesh to emerge from his back into the timber beam behind him.

His screams were awful; a wailing shriek expressing octaves I could only dream as his internal organs cooked from deep within. Worse was the stench of burnt flesh which enveloping the chamber as I picked up a second poker, and said in a deadly voice “You wanted to spend an evening with me, you bastard? You always said you were dying to do so. I'm just glad I can provide such comfort. Besides, I know I'm going to enjoy your company this evening immensely!"

Pressing the superheated metal against his cheek, he wailed again, his cries only overshadowed by those of the men bound behind me, whose shrieks of terror were a match for his.

Smile leaving my face, I drank in their fear and pain and said with a hiss “Now, where were we…"

____________

Quenching the last of the iron pokers in a nearby barrel of water, I left the pair of sobbing wretches without a backward glance. Cautious of slipping on the thick gore caking the paving stones, I stepped to the door, the heavy pounding of axes striking the hardwood finally halting as I raised the heavy beams preventing their ingress, leaving them to topple with a muted thud onto the floor nearby.

Without a word, I met the wall of blades unblinking as not a few of the guards who stood outside froze at the stench of burnt flesh that followed my presence. A curse from behind them had them fall back, as the Captain of the guards blanched as he regarded the copious gore dripping from my clothing, the macabre spectacle leaving him speechless as he stood regarding me frozen in dismay. He didn't resist as Dad pushed him aside to stare at me grimly, his disappointment clear as he spoke harshly “Cam, what have you done?"

Meeting his eyes without flinching, I said “I did what needed doing. I have the information we need. I need to speak to the King."

His eyes turned first, and he sighed in defeat, gesturing for the guards to move aside to let me past, as a frantic Dungeon Master rushed into the room to stare at the dismembered officer's corpse with despair.

I didn't care what any of them thought. My heart was ashes in my chest, and the only thing driving me onward was the opportunity to deal with those responsible in the most fatal way possible.

Dragging me into a nearby room on the direction of my father, I was stripped and doused with water, rough bristle brushes removing the worst of the encrusted gore from my limbs and face as indifferent combs attempted to pacify my blond hair. It took a while, and I was well chilled from their work before I was handed a new tunic, trousers and jerkin; the large size suggesting they belonged to one of the guards outside.

Dad didn't speak again, simply staring at me as I dressed, his disapproval obvious as left the chamber to attend the King in his personal chambers. Our entry announcement was curt, the chamberlain declining to meet my eyes as we were ushered within.

I didn't expect forgiveness, so I didn't offer any apology, my eyes meeting those of the King confronting. I had no excuse, after all; what could I offer?

Face pale in the flickering candle light, his Highness paused, looking me over carefully before dismissing both the attending guards and my father, to his obvious dismay. There was no mistaking that the Royal command he gave was exactly that; a command; and even though Dad gave me another loaded glance, he obeyed the directive without question, closing the door quietly on his exit.

Leaving me alone with the King.

I waited to be judged.

I shut my eyes and waited for him to speak, not surprised if the resultant was death.

I'd slaughtered those men in the coldest of blood, and likely deserved nothing less.

So I was startled to feel a cold wine glass pressed into my palm, my eyes shooting open to see him gesture for me to take a seat before the fire place; an action almost unheard of in his presence, as he dropped heavily into a chair opposite.

Uncertain, I sipped tentatively, the liquid refreshingly chill on my parched throat as the King, for the moment nothing more than a simple man, gave a sigh and turned a dry look on my face.

“I assumed you obtained the information I require then?" he asked, and I nodded mutely, giving a concise report with an uncharacteristic hesitancy as he pursed his lips in thought. It only took a few minutes for me to finish, and he pondered silently, sipping his own wine until, resolutely, he reached for the bell pull beside the fireplace and summoned his Chamberlain to again attend us.

The door opened softly as the man entered. With a few brief words, the King whispered his instructions, his servant nodding curtly as he rose and left the room.

Finally, his Highness returned his attention to me, lip quirked as he said “Drink up, Camilla. You look like death. On your information, I have ordered the leaders of the Traders Guild to be apprehended and brought to the palace in chains. I plan on making an example of them. I believe a gratuitous spectacle might serve as warning for anyone else thinking along the same lines, that I will tolerate future attempts on my person."

I didn't reply. After all, what could I have said? Hell, I was completely at his mercy, also.

He returned his gaze to the fire, and long, nervous minutes passed in silence before he continued, soft voice not belying the stern message beneath.

“I do not condone what you did tonight, Camilla. I made my intentions very clear to you, in front of many witnesses. To have you so openly defy my wishes is not something I can let slide lightly. I will be honest, had you not obtained the information you did, things might have turned out quite unpleasantly different for you."

I waited for his judgement, a faint flair of hope lighting my mental turmoil.

He continued. “I understand your reasoning. The dragon is a valuable ally, and I understand he is a staunch friend. Ties with his people may prove invaluable. You felt you had a duty to him, which went beyond your own choices. As such, I will not keep you here any longer than necessary, so you can return to his side. However, regardless of your success, I do not appreciate any of my nobles pursuing such actions without my express permission. If I allow such things to occur indiscriminately, the court would be in chaos, and the kingdom would follow. I owe a debt of gratitude to your family, and your father, which I would have difficulties ever repaying, so I will act in leniency this time, but only this time, so you understand? I cannot, and will not, risk the kingdom's future on the actions of a single noble's daughter, however valuable an ally they may be. You have my understanding this one time, and my pardon, but do not confuse my leniency as condoning your actions in any way."

Leaning forward, his voice dropped degrees as he finished coldly. “If you ever disregard my commands again, or place me in a situation where you undermine my authority so fully, I will ensure you do not have a further opportunity to do so again in the future. Do I make myself clear?"

He did, and while I nodded sombrely, resting my empty wine glass on the side table with visibly shaking hands, I still sighed inwardly in relief.

I had survived, yet again, by the narrowest of margins, on the whims of a gracious King who was prepared to offer pardon for actions that would otherwise have been unpardonable.

But I had no delusion this situation was anything but far from over.

I still had to deal with my father.

________________

Authors note:

Told you, 100% NASTY! ;)

Bit over being so nice all the time...