Tales of Erogenia: Book 2 - Chapter 8

Chapter 8: The Spell

The crying of sea birds woke Zenaria. She immediately noted that someone had removed all of her clothing and that silken sheets had been placed over her. The sword wound in her breast throbbed painfully, but she ignored it and threw back the sheets just in time to see Sir Varden staring across at her from his own bed. The knight immediately went bright red, but Zenaria was heartily tired of that act.

"Grow up, Sir Knight," she growled. "I am a woman. I have breasts and a cunt. Get used to it. I'm not going to change and I'm not going to hide my body to satisfy your prudish attitudes."

The knight opened his mouth as if to make an angry reply, but at that moment several of the young serving girls rushed into the room carrying food and drink. They had been apparently been waiting close by waiting for them to awaken. Just now, however, there was something else Zenaria needed to do.

"Where is the privy?" she asked.

"This way, honoured one," one of the girls said, bowing. She led Zenaria through a doorway and into a room containing a stream of continually flowing water. Mounted over it were seats whose function was more than obvious. Zenaria nodded her thanks. She had seen similar facilities in the palaces in Sandak and knew that she was not witnessing more of Junal's magic. Finished with her waking rituals, she headed back into the room to find Sir Varden coming toward her. The knight was limping a little, testifying to the damage she had done to him in the duel. She noted that he was dressed in a flowing robe and he stared straight ahead ignoring her nudity as she passed.

She entered the room and sat herself beside the food and drink that had been provided. She ate slowly, selecting among the many different dishes provided. Much of it she did not recognize, especially the spices used on the meat dishes and the various strange fruits. However, she found most of it tasty.

A few minutes later Sir Varden returned. He said nothing, not even commenting on the fact that Zenaria had not bothered to put on a stitch of clothing. Instead he sat with head turned away and ate in silence.

How long the two of them might have sat there, with Zenaria stubbornly trying to annoy Sir Varden neither of them were able to discover, because as the knight was finishing his meal Junal entered the room. "So today you have decided to act like spiteful children instead of angry animals. I should have refined my spell a bit more to eliminate barbarian stupidity."

He looked directly at Zenaria running his eyes over her body in a manner she would have taken either as an insult or an invitation if it had been any other man. She suddenly found herself wishing she had put something on.

"I have come for your answer," Junal continued. "Will you aid me in ridding the world of Pulan?"

"I will go," said Sir Varden quietly, "If Princess Zenaria will do me the honour of accompanying me."

Zenaria looked up, startled, but the knight was still not looking at her. "And," he continued, "if she will consent to wear some clothes."

Junal looked at Zenaria and she nodded slowly. Then she got up and pulled on a light robe. "When would you like us to leave?"

"I was hoping today," Junal replied. "But in light of the damage you have done to one another a short delay might be best. I can use some of my powers to hasten the healing, but you will still need a few days to recover."

"Sir Varden has the power of healing," Zenaria volunteered.

"Alas, I cannot use the power on myself," the knight said, "but I could heal the Princess."

Zenaria was about to reply that she needed no healing, but realized that it had taken some effort for the knight to humble himself. "I would be glad of that service, Sir Knight."

"Let us say three days then," Junal said. "The good knight can work his healing powers on the Princess and I shall use my magic to speed his healing. It will take me some time to prepare the spell to transport you into the palace in any case."

Zenaria wondered what she had just committed herself to. It was all very well for Sir Varden to run off to save the world, but she could think of reason for her to do so. And there was something decidedly wrong about Junal's story. However, it was something she could not quite put her finger on. However, having made her choice she would stick with it. The magician was the only one who could return her to her homeland and she expected that if she did not cooperate her chances of seeing it again were very slight. Three days, she thought. I just have to wait and see.

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As it turned out the three days were well spent. Junal did not know the exact location of the artefact powering the spell that protected the royal palace. Zenaria and Sir Varden spent several hours studying maps of the palace looking for likely locations for the artefact. Fortunately Junal's intimate knowledge of the palace narrowed it down to just one or two places, both heavily guarded. However, the magician was certain that the element of surprise would give Zenaria and Sir Varden all the advantage they would need.

"They will not be expecting an attack," the magician explained. "They think me dead and would not suspect me of having the powers I have, even if they knew I was alive."

"What should we do with this magical device when we find it?" Sir Varden asked.

"The artefact cannot be destroyed by normal means," Junal replied. "Signal me using this magical charm and I will return you here. Bring the artefact with you and I will destroy it." He held up what appeared to be a medallion with a large ruby in its centre. "Press the ruby just so and it will tell me that you have succeeded."

"And this artefact. How will we know it?" Zenaria asked.

"It is well that you asked," Junal replied. "I would be able to identify it by its magical emanations, but you will have to rely upon sight. It has the appearance of a large golden orb about the size of a man's head. It is studded with large diamonds, rubies, and emeralds and will probably be set atop a golden stand designed to hold it. The presence of armed guards should also help. The artefact is guarded day and night."

"Now before you go, I have something for you. Please follow me." Junal led them to a tower that overlooked the sea on one side and his magnificent palace on the other. From its height Zenaria could see that the palace was located on an island and that there was no land in sight in any direction. It confirmed her suspicions that without the magician's help neither she nor Sir Varden had any hope of returning home.

Junal opened a large cupboard. "This should help you on your mission. I think it will fit even warriors of your dimensions."

Zenaria and Sir Varden beheld two magnificent sets of armour. It was in a style that was unfamiliar, but beautifully made and seemingly contoured to fit their bodies. Zenaria wondered how Junal had managed have such armour prepared for them in so short a time, and guessed that it probably had something to do with his magical powers.

"It is from this tower that I will cast the transportation spell," Junal said. "As soon as you are dressed in your armour you may depart."

Several of the many young serving girls had followed them to the tower. Zenaria had learned by speaking to them that they were what she had suspected, slaves, sold into service by their parents while still children. They had never known any other way of life. The thought of so many young women doomed to a life of slavery was repugnant, but Zenaria decided challenging the custom at this time made no sense. Best to get the mission over with first and then talk to Junal about it. She doubted that she could do much about it in any case, and all of the girls appeared well cared for. Perhaps they were better off the way they were although such a life would not have appealed to her.

Although differently sized to suit each of their physiques, the armour was similar in appearance. It consisted of a boiled leather cuirass reinforced with brass fittings, and an open-faced helmet with a metal crest that ran from front to back. Contoured leather and brass protected the legs and was cunningly fitted at the knees to allow maximum flexibility. The armour appeared to have been designed on the principle that it allowed the warrior wearing it maximum mobility. It fitted in well with Zenaria's fighting style but not Sir Varden's, however the knight did not object. Some armour was better than none and Zenaria knew from experience that he could handle himself well in a fight.

"This is beautiful," Zenaria said as the last piece of armour was fitted and strapped in place. It was a more than adequate replacement for the fine armour she had lost when she had been kidnapped by the bargemen.

"It will do," Sir Varden said. "Now when do we go?"

"Now," Junal said. "Night is upon us and it will take me some time to work the spell. You should arrive close to midnight. I will begin now. Remain in the centre of the tower."

Zenaria and Sir Varden held their places while Junal disappeared down the stairs. He would work the spell from directly below them. Junal had told them what to expect and that the process was quite involved so they waited patiently for the spell to be cast.

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Slowly a golden glow suffused the air around them and a sphere similar to the one Junal had used to transport them from the ruined temple began to form. Accompanying the glow was a low humming that gradually increased in volume until the very air around them seemed to vibrate. Zenaria saw that the armour she and Sir Varden wore was glowing with a strange violet light. She and the knight tensed, sure that at any heartbeat they were going to hurled through space to their destination. But nothing happened, the spell seemed to take forever to cast. Just when Zenaria began to be sure that somewhat was wrong there was the same disorienting, stomach-wrenching jolt and the tower disappeared.

An instant later they found themselves in the centre of a very large room. Unfortunately it was literally the center of a room with a high domed ceiling. They materialized ten feet above the floor and fell crashing to the floor. It would have been a rough landing had it not been for the fact that they landed on top of three guards. There was a thundering crash of metal as they slammed the unfortunate guards to the marble floor. Two were knocked unconscious immediately and the third lay moaning until a blow from Zenaria's gloved hand shut him up.

They scrambled to their feet, swords drawn, certain that they must have been heard. But apparently they had taken out the only guards within earshot, as there were no cries of alarm and no sound of running feet. "Where are we?" Zenaria asked looking around the room.

Sir Varden frowned, apparently concentrating. "This must be near the central hall. It is surrounded by four domed rooms like this."

"Then we go that way," Zenaria pointed, directing the knight to a large arched doorway.

Sir Varden nodded and Zenaria began to move off. So far they had been lucky. Landing on top of the three guards had been pure chance and she wanted to take advantage of their good fortune. If they struck fast and hard they just might pull off the mission Junal had assigned them. They rushed through the archway, trying to move quickly but quietly. Their armour made total silence impossible, but fortunately the area beyond the archway was covered with a thick red carpet that muffled the sound of their movement.

They found themselves in a long wide corridor that led toward an even larger archway. The corridor was lined with what were probably priceless works of art, but other than an incidental glance, neither Zenaria nor Sir Varden paid the slightest attention to the furniture. Their eyes were locked on the men beneath the large arch that even now were moving toward them.

They wore armour similar to that provided Zenaria and the knight by Junal. Their helmets were topped with a magnificent green crest that added a good foot to their height, but even so they barely topped Zenaria and Sir Varden. Zenaria, however, was not deceived by the size of their opponents. Her first lover, Tren, had barely reached her chin, but his skill with the two swords he always carried matched hers and she expected that men placed to guard the artefact would be of a similar calibre. Moreover, there were six of them and they had already drawn their weapons.

Since there was no point in remaining silent, Zenaria screamed her battle cry: "For the Snow Leopard!"

"For Saint Brenna and the Holy Mother!" Sir Varden shouted, and then they were upon them.

There was a clash of steel as they encountered the first of the guards. Zenaria would have preferred to use her skill to defeat her opponent, but this was not the time for finesse. Outnumbered three to one this was the time for brute force.

She caught the first guard's blade on hers and without slowing her forward momentum, slammed full into him driving him back into the two men behind him. Her charge took her right though the six men, three of whom were attempting to surround Sir Varden. It was no time for honour in combat. She pivoted and drove her sword into the back of the man facing the knight and then returned her attention to the first three soldiers.

They had recovered from her first assault and came at her swords raised. Relying once again on her strength, Zenaria brought her blade down in a great arc that smashed through the guard of the first man and split his helmet open. The strike left her open to the other two men, but she drove her foot into one, sending him flying across the room and ducked to the side to avoid the attack of the other. She then stepped forward and used her armoured elbow to smash him in the face.

She turned to help Sir Varden who had managed to kill one of his opponents and was driving the other two before him. With Zenaria at his side he quickly dispatched one of his opponents by taking off his head while Zenaria batted aside the guard of the other and drove her fist into his face.

Neither warrior waited to finish off their stunned and bleeding opponents - those at least that needed finishing off. Their mission was not to kill as many of the guards as possible, but to seize the artefact and they were now through the second arched doorway.

The room they entered was patterned after the one through which they had arrvied at the palace. It also was dome-shaped and larger than the first, being about fifty feet across. There were three other entrances to the room and at each of the arched doorway soldiers were pouring into the room.

Zenaria knew they were in the right place. The first room had been lit by large lanterns, but this one needed no light. In the centre of the room was the object Junal had sent them to find. It was situated on a circular dais about four feet high and ten feet across, and was a jewel-encrusted golden sphere about the size of a man's head cradled in a bowl-shaped stand about three feet high. It glowed with a strange and powerful light, the many gems sending multicoloured rays about the room.

Zenaria and Sir Varden didn't wait for the soldiers to arrive. They charged toward the dais, Sir Varden with one hand on the medallion Junal had given them and Zenaria with sword in hand. She dashed past the dais, her raised blade momentarily slowing the encroaching soldiers who were now just yards away. Sir Varden leaped onto the dais. Quickly but carefully he lifted the artefact from its cradle and pressed the centre gem on the medallion. There was a blinding flash of light, a loud popping sound, and the artefact was gone. Sir Varden, however, and Zenaria remained.

"We have been betrayed," the knight said in disbelief.

Why does that not surprise me? Zenaria thought as she swung her sword at the closest soldier. Aloud, she shouted to Sir Varden. "We must retreat to the outer room. There are too many to fight all at once." She was backed against the dais, a dozen swords trying to reach her while even more men rushed into the room.

With a roar Sir Varden leaped down beside her, his sword creating a ring of steel in front of him. In spite of their numbers the attackers all took a step back giving the two warriors breathing space. It gave them the chance they needed. Backing quickly away they reached the doorway through which they had entered. Standing side by side in the doorway they prepared to defend themselves.

The guards swarmed toward them, but in spite of the enemy's superior numbers they were able to fend off the attacks. The narrow doorway meant that the guards could not come at them more than three at a time. However, Zenaria knew that they could not hold them off forever. No doubt there were a hundred guards in the palace. They would keep on coming and she and Sir Varden could probably not kill them all. And there was the fact that so far no archers had appeared. They could fight off swords; fighting off arrows was something far more difficult.

There did not, however, appear to be any choice. Attacker after attacker came at them until a mound of dead and injured was piled so deeply on the floor that the attacking soldiers had to pause to clear their fallen comrades out of the way. They were under attack by over fifty men with more coming. Escape was impossible. A heroic death was all that remained.

A heroic death, however, was what every Snow Leopard warrior wished for and in spite of the fact that Zenaria might have wished to see a bit more than her nineteen summers she could not think of a better way to die than with sword in hand. What Sir Varden thought about the situation she had no idea and didn't much care.

By now the floor in front of the two warriors was slippery with blood. It worked to their advantage as they were holding position on the edge of the carpet, but the continual onslaught was slowly wearing them down. Breathing heavily, and covered in enemy blood, Zenaria was bleeding from a dozen small wounds and Sir Varden was in similar condition. It was obvious that they could not hold on much longer, but there was no thought of surrender. She would fight on until her strength gave out and she was cut down by the enemy blades.

Suddenly the wall of men in front of them fell back. Zenaria expected to see the swordsmen replaced by archers. If so the time had come to die.

She stared in surprise as a single figure stepped forward. She at once noted his resemblance to Junal in the way that he was dressed and in the long moustaches that trailed from his upper lip. He looked down distastefully at the blood and gore that splattered the floor and then returned his gaze to the two almost exhausted warriors. "The time has come to end this," he said. He raised his hand.

Realizing what was about to happen, Zenaria hurled herself toward him. Remembering Junal's paralysing spell she sought to force the soldiers standing next to the magician to kill her before he could render her helpless. Above all she did not want the humiliation of being taken prisoner. But she was too late. Even as she moved within striking distance the magician gestured.

There was a blinding light, an intense wrenching sensation, as if her guts were being torn out of her, and then brutal pain. Zenaria screamed and then the world disappeared.

Continued in Chapter 9

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