Best try on Chrome browser.
THE TATTOOED WOMAN Chapter 48
Well, I survived my triple heart bypass, and the recovery goes apace. With luck my writing schedule, which has been all to Hell in a handbasket these last few months, can get back to something a bit more regular. Anyway, I hope you are all very well and having a great day. Welcome to the next chapter of this yarn. Once again, thanks to Sandra (and others) for the editing and input. Their help is really invaluable.
Also, many thanks to all of you who have taken the time to leave some very kind comments, both about my , and my health. I really do appreciate them, and so often they just make my day.
All the best.
The Tattooed Woman Volume 3 Chapter 48: It Dawned in Fire
She passed across the sky like a blazing comet, her furious rage leaving a trail of brilliant fire in her wake. Stormclouds gathered around her, and thunder was her herald.
Adair stood alone in the field and watched her come. Dark of eye and dark of mane, she held her mother’s purloined spear in her hand, and its point gleamed hungrily in the growing gloom.
Trees bowed and shook as the tempest descended, and several of the nearest burst into orange flame. Shalidar did not so much land, as slam into the ground like a burning javelin. The impact shook the earth, and its echo reverberated about the forest.
She rose from the smoking crater and her searing gaze fixed instantly upon the woman before her. A low menacing hiss escaped her throat, sibilant and unnerving.
Adair’s breath almost caught in her chest as she met those golden eyes. Furious they were, burning bright, savage, and wild. Slitted pupils focused upon her, unblinking and radiant, like the eyes of the largest cat that ever lived. She knew those eyes well, for long, long ago their fearful symmetry had been framed by her own mother’s immortal hand. They were inhumanly brilliant, and inhumanly beautiful.
She bowed, “Lady Shalidar, Mistress of the Southern Skies, I bid thee welcome.”
The response was not entirely unpredictable.
“DECEIVER!!!”
The morsel before her doffed her head with an enigmatic smile that was as insouciant as it was galling, “True.”
The Dragon gathered herself, looming over this vile usurper that had offended her so, and she felt the very blood in her veins burning with a primal need to rend and sear its flesh. But even as her shadow fell upon the thing, the fel spear in its hand gleamed all the brighter. And when the woman looked up at her, she could sense no fear in those cold eyes. Instead, her lips curled in a wicked smile, and she halted the Dragon with a mere whisper, “And EllĂ©n?”
That name! It pierced even her rage, and for a moment she faltered. Licking her lips there came a rumbling, “What of her?”
“If we do battle here, then, regardless of outcome, she loses. For if you fail, if you fall, what becomes of her? Would not your death condemn her to a lifetime of loneliness and utter despair? And should you prevail? What then? Does she fly home with such news that would break the heart of her beloved and thus drive a wedge, like some hateful spike between her heart and yours? It seems you leave yourself with only poor choices here, Shalidar.”
“RELEASE HER!”
“Why should I?”
Adair sniffed and raised her head to look up at the Dragon, and her eyes were hard, “Ever have you measured me against the deeds of my kin, which, to be fair, serve as a dark enough indictment. But if it is so that they and I are indeed such kindred spirits, then surely, I must ask myself, if I granted you this boon and released EllĂ©n, how would such a magnanimous gesture benefit me?”
“Benefit?”
“Aye! Tell me, wyrm. What is her freedom worth to you? And what would you offer me in exchange?”
Shalidar licked her lips. Fear for EllĂ©n set her heart to pounding in her chest. The Danu were wicked to the core, ancient and immortal creatures who could not be trusted. Not now, not ever! But even they held to a bargain once struck, and she swallowed, “Everything and anything.”
The creature before her had the dark mien of her mother… She held her head proudly aloft and her expression was one of cold command. Her long hair, now blacker than a raven’s wing, fell down her back, her eyes were as dark and fathomless as the abyss, her skin was as pale as moonlight, and had Cassie seen how she had changed, she would have wept.
The Danu tilted her head and raised an arched brow, eyeing the Dragon as a cat might eye a mouse, “And should I refuse your generous offer?”
Dreadful talons bit furrows from the earth, and a hungry shudder ran down the Dragons spine as it drew a breath and snarled, “Then you best heft your mother’s glaive and set to with a vengeance, monster, for if that is the case only one of us shall leave this field alive!”
…
It was one of the hardest things she had ever done; leaving the camp in defiance of Adairs command.
The words the woman had spoken seemed to echo like a pernicious whisper about her mind, and her leaden feet felt like they had been spiked to the ground. Yet, as the growing nameless fear gnawed at her, she found herself drifting ever further from the light and warmth of the campfires, and ever closer to the darkness and shadows that had begun to ring the encampment as the twilight descended.
She looked to the dark elves and saw the firelight reflecting off Ashunara’s catlike eyes as the woman watched her intently. But if the Captain had any words of wisdom or thoughts to share with her this night, she chose to keep them to herself.
The enigmatic swordswoman blinked. Turning away, she casually tossed a flask across the campfire into the startled hands of her newest recruit, and the spell was broken. The flask began to make its rounds of her Company, and when she looked back to where Ellén had been standing, only the shadows remained.
Ashunara sighed wearily, and Nyx gave her a troubled look, even as she deftly plucked the nearly drained flask from Elsadore’s grasp, ignoring the big veteran’s halfhearted cry of protest. Taking a thoughtful swig of the fiery draught she passed it back to the Captain with a quiet murmur, “Best we stay out of it, lass.”
“Think you so?”
Nyx stared off through the trees towards the faint burning glow in the distance, and shivered, “Oh yes,” she cast her gaze back to the campfire and shook her head, “any old soldier could tell you; those who the Gods love dearest, die the youngest, and they already know you too well. Wiser to let them be.”
…
The umbral forest was dark, gloomhaunted and filled with unquiet shadows, but the eyes of a Dragon are not so easily blinded and no ghost or banshee dared bar her way, while wolves and other nightprowling creatures scattered before her. The breeze that stirred the branches about her filled the night air with the creaking song of swaying bough and rustling leaves, but she had no time for such distractions.
Ahead of her, drawing ever nearer, the flickering of orange flame could be seen through the trees, while the smell of smoke and burning pine wood grew all the stronger. The air carried a redolence of hot iron or brass, and it was a scent she knew well.
Bursting from the edge of the woods EllĂ©n saw a great clearing ahead of her. The grassy space was ringed by a thick barrier of trees, a few of which looked to have been inadvertently set alight and still burned. But even without the orange glow of such flames, she would not have mistaken the two figures who stood opposed in the centre of the glade, for at that moment the clouds rolled back, and the moon goddess Rhiannon bathed the scene in a silver radiance. Across the clearing it reflected like starlight off the wings of the mighty Dragon and caused the blade of the deadly spear in Adair’s hand to glitter like hoarfrost.
Trembling, she made to step forward, not knowing what she could possibly say to appease these two mighty entities, but grimly determined to somehow come between them, nonetheless.
Before she could take even a single pace, a strong hand wrapped itself about her arm, and a grip like cold iron halted her in her tracks.
Like some spectre or shade that had chosen to take material form, the Crone emerged from the gloom. She was wrapped in shadows but without her shawl to cover her head the moonlight reflected off grey hair and wrinkled brow, and with a hiss of irritation she shook her head as she cast hard eyes heavenward, “Pestiferous trollop! This is not your business.”
The Moon did not deign to reply.
EllĂ©n tried to pull away, but the grip on her arm would not be broken, and those dark eyes, cold as ice and blacker than slate flicked to her, “Not so fast, child. There’s no use you rushing out there all in a turmoil. Be best if you stayed at my side a while. There’s a definite chill in the air, and I’d take it kindly if you could maybe see your way to keeping an old woman company.”
The ancient creature gave her a small smile, perhaps to take the sting from her words, but whatever the reason, it did not reach her eyes, and Ellén shivered.
She tugged at her arm, “Leave go.”
The old woman tilted her head with a weary sigh, and her grip tightened, “Now, now, EllĂ©n, don’t be stubborn, please… This is a thing that needs to happen.”
EllĂ©n froze, “What thing?”
The Crone cast her eyes out across the clearing, “My daughter needs an ally of substance. Someone to stand with her in battle.”
“I said I would serve!”
The young Dragon pulled and pried uselessly at the grip on her arm, and for perhaps a most fleeting moment there may have passed a look of sadness on the ancient features of the creature that held her. The Crone looked away and her voice was strangely soft, “I know you did, child. I know. Just as I can see in your heart that your offer was true. I do not doubt your fidelity. The fault is not yours. It lies with Adair.”
“Adair?”
The creature would not meet her gaze, “Aye. She has grown fond of thee. I think, perhaps, seeing you with the human girl has reminded her of happier times. She would be reluctant to place you in harm’s way, and against such foes as she faces, she can ill afford such sentiment.”
Raising her head the Crone sniffed, “Given their hi, I doubt she would feel that same reticence towards Shalidar.”
EllĂ©n’s voice shook, “You did this? This is done by your hand…”
“Yes.”
“But… why?”
“You are brave, and fierce, truly you are. But you are young, and, for now, your mother is yet the stronger, and she has you to fight for. When it comes to the final battle she will fight long and hard. And mayhap, if we are fortunate, afore she falls, her death might buy Adair an opportunity to strike.”
“NO!”
“I… I’m sorry. But they are outmatched. A sacrifice must be made.”
In a frenzy now, Ellén pulled at the creature with all her might, hissing and clawing furiously at the hand that gripped her. But it was useless, for it held her like an anchor, and the leviathan would not be moved.
Snarling with rage she almost spat at the woman, “Let. Me. Go!”
The reply was a whisper, “No.”
Raising a trembling fist, EllĂ©n hissed, “Release me, or I shall strike you.”
The Crone’s lips quirked ever so slightly, and a hoary brow arched incredulously, “Mind yourself, lass. I once threatened to put you over my knee for giving me such cheek. Can you imagine what I’ll do to you if you dare lift your hand to me?”
EllĂ©n swallowed, her heart thumped furiously in her chest, but her voice was firm, “She’s my mother. Do your worst.”
The creature stared at her for an endless moment. Taking in the girl’s defiance, seeing her grimly determined expression, and the fear upon her face. Such fear there was in those desperate eyes, but none for herself…
She sighed, “Damn you.”
Ellén almost fell backwards when the entity suddenly released her.
The Dragon eyed the ancient being before her, “Tthank you.”
The Crone turned away, shoulders slumped, and her voice was nothing more than an echo, “Just go.”
…
Adair lifted the spear in her hand and gazed at the silver blade as she idly turned it this way and that, delighting in the way the moonlight reflected from its deadly lines. It was wreathed with such magic that it created a faint nimbus about the blade, and it moaned hungrily as she suddenly whipped it about her and into a guard position.
Then, with a chuckle, she relaxed and looked up at the Dragon, “This thing? This was never my mother’s spear.”
Confused, the monster stared at her, “What?”
The woman shrugged, “She stole it. As is her want I suppose. Filched it from her brother Lugus, at the same time she purloined the portion of his fire that she gave to your ancestors.”
The Dragon frowned, “Lugus? The Sun God?”
Looking up, Adair sniffed and scratched her head, “Aye, where else would she find a flame to suit?”
“It’s true then. She gave us our fire.”
The woman looked up at those great golden eyes and smiled, “She gave you more than that, Dragon. You gained just a faint touch of his appetites, his passion, his artistry, and yes, his colossal pride. He could burn the whole world with a stray gesture, but instead he chases his love across the heavens,” she chuckled, “there is a whiff of the Gods about you, Shalidar.”
“Save your insults, Danu. I would have your answer. Me for her?”
With a sigh Adair shook her head and cast an eye towards the edge of the clearing, “You must know that it is by another hand that we find ourselves thus,” she sniffed, “and I can well guess by whose hand that is.”
It was Shalidar’s turn to grin, lips curling back over a terrifying array of sabrelength fangs, “No doubt, yet here we are all the same.”
Adair nodded, “Well, I think today at least the best laid plans of such schemers can go straight to Hades.”
“What?”
“Shalidar, your daughter is not my slave, and never will be. So, your offer is refused.”
The Dragon recoiled and its eyes went wide, “But, they said… I heard them… it… She swore herself to you. Did she not?”
“Aye, and it was nobly done. I accepted because to do otherwise would be to insult her and call her unworthy…”
The ground shook, “UNWORTHY!?”
“Woah, I did not say such. She is a most chivalrous creature, and a credit to you, truly. I accepted her service to protect her, and because it honoured me to do so. But that does not make her my slave. Should she ever wish to quit my service all she need do is ask.”
The Dragon stared at her. It licked its lips as if tasting the air for any deception, a shudder ran through its great body and its voice trembled, “You swear it?”
“I do.”
Shalidar closed her eyes in disgust, and her great head sank, “Ohhh, what a fool I’ve been…”
“It is never foolish to stand so for your kin. But, and I pray thee, do not take this awrong, I have as much need for an unwilling slave as I do for a third tit,” she looked up at the great creature that towered above her, and grinned, “no, what I need, is an ally.”
“An ally?”
“Aye, for the battles that lie ahead will be grim indeed, and if we fall, then all hope falls with us.”
Drawing a breath Shalidar shook her head, “It hurts to make this admission, but I cannot match him.”
“Typhonus?”
“Aye, he was ever the strongest of us, the fairest and swiftest, and his flame burned the hottest. And now? With the sorcery of his Master sustaining him he is truly a monstrosity. He is unkillable, and I could not match him, not if there were ten of me.”
“Think you so?”
Adair stepped back, hefting her spear, and as she did the frozen air crackled about the blade, “You asked about this glaive?”
Shalidar swallowed.
The night had turned very cold, and the chill breeze caused even the ghosts to shiver.
Adair smiled, “My mother wielded this brand for centuries uncounted, and in that time her magic seeped into the thing, shaping it to better suit her hand, remaking it into this vorpal blade,” she looked up and drew a breath, “but it does not forget. It remembers by whose hand it was forged. Observe.”
Raising the weapon, she cried an ancient name and slammed the bronze heel of the spear down against the ground. The earth heaved violently at the impact, and there came a great wash of heat. Fire ignited and ran the length of the spear until from tip to tip it blazed with the hot brilliance of molten gold and its radiance lit the field.
The wave of heat instantly incinerated the grass in a great circle about Adair, causing even the Dragon to stagger backwards, one mighty wing moving to shelter its startled eyes. But even as it reeled, the great serpent caught a glimpse of Adair, her hair blazing like burnished copper, and her eyes shining like emeralds as they reflected the golden light from the spear.
Laughing madly, she drew her hand along the length of the blade, drawing off a handful of golden magma. Her tattoos blazed as the edge bit through them and into her flesh. The blood of the Danu mixed with the flame, causing it to burn all the hotter. Eyes wild, she blew into it, stoking it yet further still, until, at last, she was satisfied, and she held out the incandescent brew.
“Here then! Quickly! Sup upon this, Shalidar. And the next time you meet your foes, be they Devil or Dragon, you will teach them the true meaning of Fire!”
…
The Ebon Tower of Emain, ancient seat of the Grand Matriarch of the Dark Elves, had been all but reduced to ruin in a single day. It had been built as a bold statement of their regal power and was said to be impregnable. But that was before an enraged Dragon had come acalling.
The great outer doors, each standing ten times the height of a man and crafted from Dwarfforged steel, had been breached, and catastrophically so. One had been literally torn from its hinges, taking a sizeable section of the outer wall with it, and hurled more than a hundred paces away. The gigantic missile had demolished a guard outpost in spectacular fashion before finally coming to rest. The other door had been reduced to molten slag and lay in an almost unrecognizable puddle on the cold ground.
Within, the Great Hall was an abattoir. Charred and smashed bodies lay in smoking piles or had been reduced to crushed stains upon the floor. Dragonfire had scorched the walls, and many of the mighty statues that had once so proudly towered over the feasting tables had either been toppled, or carelessly pulverized.
Bodies littered the stairwells and galleries; most killed by sword and steel, others murdered by foul magicks or incendiary thunderbolt, while an unlucky few, those who had tried to bar Shalidar’s way had been torn limb from limb in payment for their idiocy, for she had been vexed and Dragons were seldom of a forgiving mood at such times.
At least one of enemy had been a magi of some notable skill, for they managed to animate at least one of the old stone gargoyles that decorated the stairwell of the tower and set it against her.
Apparently, she had ripped its head off and then beaten the unlucky fool to death with it.
Despite these setbacks the enemy host had thoroughly infested the keep, and they had been relentless. Doors to living chambers and servant quarters alike had been battered open, and then gruesome work done within. Then the corpses of the murdered had then been compelled to rise and attack their fellows.
The enemy had well known who they were hunting, for while madness and chaos had reigned throughout the tower the most powerful and deadly among them had divided into smaller companies, each moving with singular purpose as they hunted their marks.
They had come to the chambers of the Matriarchs, and with magic or maul they had attempted to force entry. Some had succeeded in their grisly tasks, but others had been met with furious resistance, for the Matriarchs of the Dark Elves were anything but helpless, and the tower had reverberated with the sounds of screams and sorcery, while smoke and magical flame had created a caustic fume that obscured almost all.
ero
