Chapter Forty-Six
YAVARA
It was two in the morning when Zander shook me awake.
“What?” I groaned.
“King Dreus is calling you.”
“You think he’ll break this time?” I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, and sat up.
“I think he’s ready.”
I sighed. “Make me look pretty, Zander.”
He cast a spell, and my disheveled appearance righted itself, makeup was applied to my face, and my eyes were cleared of redness. I threw on yesterday’s clothes, walked over to the mirror, and palmed the glass.
“Yes, You Highness?” I asked.
“We can make a deal.” He said.
“Your son confessed. We have nothing to discuss.”
“You know damn-well that confession means nothing.”
“The evidence means quite a bit. The calls between he and Bentius, the Lowland assassin, the stuff we found in the embassy; Your Highness, I wish it were not so, but it is.”
Albert Dreus pulled at his beard. “What do you want?”
“There’s nothing you can give me that will stay my judgement. Alexa was beloved, and my people demand justice.”
“Matthew is beloved, and my people will demand justice!” He growled, “Can you not see that this was a frame-job by Leveria?”
“The crucial evidence wasn’t what was found in the embassy; it was the communications, Your Highness. Did Leveria anticipate that Zander would find a way to monitor relay traffic?”
“It’s possible.”
“You know that’s not enough.”
His beard quivered. “He is my son. That should be enough.”
I glanced at Zander. He nodded, and I looked back at the mirror. “Prince Matthew is guilty of conspiring against Alkandra, but I don’t think he knew he was part of an assassination. He loved Alexa dearly, and would never knowingly bring harm upon her, or anyone for that matter. He’s a gentle soul. I think he was led astray by someone he trusts and admires. If you can provide me with the knowledge of who that person may be, then Prince Matthew will find himself on a boat tomorrow instead of on scaffolding. Zander will cast an illusion spell, and we’ll give the crowd a fun little snuff show. As a show of good faith, I am willing to delay the execution a day. This will give you time to think on your answer.”
“I don’t need to think on my answer! There is no conspiracy!” Dreus growled.
“Perhaps there’s simply not one you know about.”
“Speak it then.”
I beckoned to Zander, and he handed me his notepad. “Something we found rather interesting, was that the majority of Leveria’s communications to the Lowlands weren’t with you; they were with Arthur. Do you know that the crown prince is in regular contact with her?”
“No.” He said implacably.
I glanced at Zander once more. He made a continuing motion with his finger, and I looked back at the mirror. “Your Highness, Leveria could never send an assassin to Alkandra; every corner of the Great Forest is being watched. She had to use contacts within the Lowlands to get the assassin there. Her only contact with the Lowlands besides you, was Crown Prince Arthur Dreus. So either you sent the assassin, or he did.”
He stared back at the mirror, his face not emoting anything.
I looked at Zander a third time, and he nodded. It was time. “Your Highness,” I said, looking back at him, “we found out which sigil is Lord Lucas Ternias’s sigil, and we know which one yours is. You and Lucas Ternias talked many times a day, but then you stopped. When I asked you if you could relay a message to him, you told me I would be disappointed. Was that because you had stopped sending aid to Ternias before then?”
“It was.”
“And I understand that you supported Ternias because he was vehemently against peace with Alkandra.”
“And he was trustworthy.”
“‘Was’ being the operative word.” I smirked, “You were afraid that he changed his stance on Alkandra. You were afraid that I would make a deal with him. When you left that meeting, Zander saw a communication pop up between you and an unknown sigil in the Highlands. A day later, another communication between you and that unknown sigil popped up, and the conversation was very brief. So brief, in fact, that it hardly registered on the mirror at all, like it was just a single word. An hour later, someone tried to kill Elena Straltaira.”
King Dreus did not say anything. He did not even flinch. He stared back at the mirror as though he were looking through me. It enraged me.
“Who sent the assassin to Alkandra, Albert?” I asked, my voice quiet, but tense, “Was it you, or was it that bastard son of yours?”
He took a slow breath through his nose, and let it out, the air flowing through his thick mustache. The gears of his mind worked behind his eyes, but he said nothing.
“Do you even know who you’re talking to right now?” I whispered shakenly, “Can you fathom it at all? I have a horde of seasoned butchers that would blacken your streets with their numbers, but I wouldn’t need a single orc if I wanted to turn Ardeni to ash before noon. I would just need to wake up early.”
King Dreus reached forward, and palmed the glass.
LEVERIA
The watchmen had ranged their ballista down the bridge, and chased the guardsmen back behind the first wall. The watchmen poured in after them, their ballista blowing open the gate before the guardsmen could close it. The golden-armored royal guard formed a crescent about the gate, and slaughtered the watchmen as they came, but there were so many. Little by little, the crescent thinned, and soon the guardsmen began to tactically retreat, syphoning off men to hold a secondary position while those before them died.
I snuggled in Elena’s dress upon the bed, trying to ignore what was happening. I wished beyond anything to feel her upon me, but the fantasy was a good enough escape. I would join her soon. I didn’t believe in an afterlife, but there was some comfort in the idea of becoming the same nothing she was.
The mirror illuminated behind the drained corpse of my husband. King Dreus was calling for me. Well, wallowing in self-pity and waiting to die were hardly the best ways to live out my last moments. I would die doing what I loved. I walked over to the mirror, not bothering to move Eric out of the shot, and I palmed the glass.
“Albert.” I smirked.
“Your… Highness?” He asked, his eyes going wide, “Is that…?”
“We broke up.” I said, “Now, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Do I hear… Your Highness, is there a battle happening over there?”
“Oh, you didn’t know?” I giggled, “The watchmen have decided they don’t like me very much. They want a new queen. So congratulations, Albert, and well done.”
His face contorted. “The plan was never for there to be a coup!”
“Plans do change. Have you gotten a call from Yavara yet? I had hoped Zander would’ve put two-and-two together by now, but perhaps I gave him too much credit. The idiot did leave his staff out in plain view while disguising himself as a child.”
He scowled at me. “She called.”
“And does Matthew still have his head?”
“Matthew isn’t my concern right now.” He growled.
“That’s a hell of a thing for a father to say.” I grinned, “But of course, there’s always a favorite child. It’s too bad yours turned out to be a bad seed. My father made the same mistake.”
“What were you and Arthur planning?!” He said through gritted teeth.
“Oh, nothing good. Not for you.” I tittered musically.
“Tell me.”
“Why, so you can ruin it?” I asked, then shrugged, “I guess it doesn’t much matter now. I wanted to start a war between you and Yavara, but I knew that no matter what happened, you’d only ever go so far as sanctioning her. That wasn’t good enough for me. I needed someone with the balls to use the Lowland navy. Perhaps the naval commander would do it?”
His mustache quivered.
I grinned, “Did Prince Arthur issue a naval training exercise three days ago? Did he tell you the fleet was promenading to the summer isles? Or was he concerned that the dock was vulnerable to a storm, and set the galleys to sea?”
He collected himself admirably, and let out a slow breath. “He would never wage war against my will. He knows that violence is the cheapest form of power.”
“You’re right about him, of course. Arthur is on his way to blockade the Alkandran Bay and force Yavara to the negotiating table. That is, until he hears about the unjust murder of his beloved little brother.” I grinned, “Oh, you thought he knew of it? Arthur was never as callous as you or me. I sent the assassin through a portal to Ardeni, then filled the relay traffic with talk between Arthur and myself, and let Zander pick up the breadcrumbs. By the time the assassin’s boat docked at Alkandra, your son and I had quite a repour in the wizard’s eye.”
“And the talks you had with Matthew?” He growled.
“Why would I ever talk with that pathetic fool? I had Adrianna draw his sigil when she called me.”
His mustache quivered again. “You made a fatal error, Your Highness.” He hissed, “You thought you turned Arthur against me? He’s my son!”
“You made a fatal error, Your Highness,” I gave him a pitying look, “you sent an assassin to kill the woman I love. Ever since you made that choice, your days have been numbered.” I leaned in, and grinned wolfishly at him. “How can you not see it? How could you listen to my confessional, and think you would breathe a second past its finale? How could you look in the mirror, and not once see your own reflection? I’m dead, but at least I realize it.” My smile broadened, “The realization tends to hit us quite suddenly.”
There was a moment where King Dreus’s face went beautifully pale, and he saw the pair of eyes over his left shoulder. Then a sliver appeared in his throat. His eyes went wide, and he coughed. Blood speckled the glass, and the sliver moved across his throat, and parted his neck. He pitched forward, his head wobbling on the half of his neck that was still attached, his bulging eyes writhing, still disbelieving of what had happened. He collapsed out of view, and my assassin came into view. She wiped her blade clean, gave me a curt bow, and palmed the mirror. In all the times I’d used her, I’d never once learned her name. It saddened me for some reason.
A low boom alerted me that the courtyard below had been taken, and the inner doors had been blown off their hinges. I grabbed a tincture of opium, and measured out a lethal dose into a syringe. I decided that self-defenestration was wholly out of character for me. Death by lethal injection seemed more apropos, and a lot less terrifying.
ELENA
The noble district was in utter chaos. Flames leapt from house to house, the gentry flooded into the streets in their nightwear, and the watchmen surrounded the dwindling pockets of royal guards, leaving a dozen of their own dead writhing on the cobblestones, hacked to pieces by the great-swords of the golden-shelled warriors. Two guardsmen were in the middle of Oak Street, fighting back-to-back against a hundred watchmen, and exacting their toll. Their long blades cut through armor like butter, splitting their enemies into grotesque shapes, every sweep sending limbs and detached torsos toppling from their bearers. I needed to get past them, but I saw no way between the burning rows of buildings and the spinning meat cleavers at their center.
“Sister, bless me.” One watchman groaned. He was gone beneath the ribcage, a horrific diagonal cut turning him into a quarter of a man. I touched his brow with one hand, and put my dagger into his brainstem with the other.
“Sister, deliver me.” Another man croaked. This one was still one piece, but he’d been split from the clavicle to the navel. I performed the same blessing on him.
“Sister!” One man screamed. He tried to hold his pink entrails in, but the rupture of his abdominal wall had caused them to burst. I gave him my fatal farewell.
I did this all along the street, following the carnage until my sleeves were soaked in blood, and my shoes squelched with it. I stopped when I reached the edge of the carnage, waiting patiently behind the backs of the watchmen who stabbed desperately at the guardsmen. One of the guardsmen had been brought to his knees, but still he felled his foes, even more ferocious now that his life had been taken. The watchmen thrusted their pikes at him, and he took the blows, letting the points stab into his armor and flesh so that they could not be torn out. Those who had dealt the mortal blows were caught in the lightning arc of his blade, and they were all split by it, their bodies dropping before me. The guard’s eyes fell upon me, and he roared, “STOP!”
To my amazement, they did. The fifty watchmen who remained turned to look at me, and they shuffled out of the way. Many touched their brows, and muttered, “Sister,” and others averted their gazes in shame. Bewildered, I walked through the path, and blessed each man along my way. I touched the brow of the dying guardsmen, and an expression of great peace crossed his face. I blessed the other guardsmen, and he nodded gravely. To the watchmen at their flanks, I offered more meaningless consecrations, and many of them took my words as if they’d been spoken by god herself. Then I walked past the last of the men, and the fighting immediately continued. I did not stand to watch it. I sprinted down Oak Street, rounded the corner, and came upon the castle moat. The gate had been broken open, the inner doors had been breached, and the ground was littered with dead. I looked up at the high tower, where a light still flickered.
“Why are you still there, you stubborn fucking woman?” I growled. I raced around the moat to its channel in the Bentius bay, then dove in. The cold water seized me, but I gritted through it, riding the current until the stream took me into the bay itself. There, at the base of the castle, was a wrought-iron drainage outlet. I swam to it, climbed onto the slippery rocks, and pulled it. Of course, it did not budge, but I only was trying to ascertain where the hinges were. I prayed that the coverings had been corroded, and reached between the bars to feel the hidden hinges on the other side. Rust flaked away with the brush of my fingers. I found the screws, and felt the notches. There were four screws, two for each hinge, and by the girth of them, I expected that they went into the stone at least four inches deep. I didn’t know how much time I had. I estimated that at least sixty of the hundred guardsmen were dead outside the castle. The rest would be fighting backwards up the steps to the high tower, exacting a terrible toll on those who pursued them. The further up the castle the fighting went, the narrower the corridors became, and the less numbers mattered, but even the royal guard got tired, and the watchmen always had fresh legs to charge.
“Twenty minutes.” I told myself optimistically.
I slipped my dagger through the bars, and slid it into one of the notches. I twisted, and felt the metal of the screwhead give way.
“Shit!” I gasped. I felt the notch with my finger once more, praying that I hadn’t stripped it completely. The metal was soft with rust, but the notch was still intact. I chewed on my lip, slid the dagger into it once more, and meticulously sawed toward myself, and into the notch. Once I was sure I was deep enough into the head, I gradually applied torque to the screw until mercifully, it gave. From there, it was just a painstaking task of finding the notch and applying a half-rotation of torque before doing it again. I counted the seconds with my heartbeats, forcing myself to remain composed. Just one moment of impatience would strip the screwhead, and all would be lost. I looked up at the length of the high tower. Torchlight flickered through the arched windows, and violent shadows moved just four floors beneath the top.
“Ten minutes.” I growled. Three minutes later, the first screw came out. Three more to go.
SHERMAN HUNTIATA
The stairway was a waterfall of corpses. Men ran up it, and pieces rained down it, bouncing off the walls, rolling down the brutal stone steps, now slick with red.
“Go!” I yelled. The boy before me shook his head, his eyes wide with terror. I grabbed him by the arm, and hauled him up with me. “Don’t stop pressing!” I yelled to the men behind me as I dragged the lad up, “They can’t fight forever! Wear them down, and they will break!”
The clash of steel sounded louder with every footfall. The curved walls of the spiraling staircase became dark between the torches, then grew lighter as we rounded the bend. The violent shadows of battle shown on the bricks, the screams of agony, the roars of manic wrath. The boy tried to shake himself out of my grip, but I held him fast, my other hand gripping my sword.
“Son, there’s only one way out of this for the both of us.” I growled, “You better find your juice quick.” The screams and clashes became louder and louder until we were right behind the backs of the platoon ahead of us. “Relief!” I shouted, “Relief! Relief! Left side! Left side!”
The men in front of us began peeling off from their attack, rolling down the left side of the corridor, their faces haggard, their eyes unfocused. I hustled to fill the spaces they left, not wanting to give the beleaguered defenders a moment of reprieve. When the last watchmen rolled down the left side, a wall of dead bodies was revealed, and behind them, the golden-shelled guardsmen bared their teeth behind their great-swords.
“Kill the fuckers!” I yelled, and rushed into the pointy ends, dragging the boy with me. There was a concurrent roar behind me, and we surged up the steps. The guardsmen came down to meet us, and we clashed over the wall of dead. I cross blades with a man whose eye had been put out. His breath was stinking in my face as he screamed, his other eye bulging. We pressed together, our blades shearing, matching muscle to muscle. He overpowered me, and my arms gave way, shot to the left, and imbedded my blade into the boy’s neck. I ripped it out as he went down gurgling, and hacked at the man in front of me. There was no space to swing. All we could do was drive against each other, the men behind us adding their weight. Slowly, the line pushed up the steps.
The men behind me thrusted over my shoulder, glancing their swords off the armor of the one-eyed bastard. His wrists torqued against mine, our blades grinding, angling for position. He heaved forward, and the edge of my blade pressed against me, splitting into my chest.
“Die, you fucker!” He snarled, “Die! Die!”
My grip failed me. The sword twisted in my hand, and the flat of my own blade smashed me square in the face. I toppled back into the man behind me, and he pushed his weight up into my shoulders, forcing me against the one-eyed bastard’s sword. His blade cut into my nose, splitting the cartilage, working slowly into the bone. I was screaming, the blood pouring into my mouth, the pain rushing into my head.
“Die, you fucker!” He snarled, spittle peppering my face, his stinking breath filling the new hole in my nose. My arms were pinned against me, my own sword was flat on my chest. I let go of the handle, and grasped desperately for the knife at my side, leaning back into the man behind me, trying to escape that searing blade that cut into my nose.
“DIE!” The man screamed. I wrapped my hand around the knife, dragged it up my body, and shoved it into his eyehole. He shrieked, and I stabbed into it over and over, the pink stuff flying out, the shrieks becoming higher until they cut out, and he slumped against me.
“Push!” I roared, and then men behind me heaved against me. The line gave way suddenly, a row of guardsmen fell backward, dead. Those behind were retreating up the spiraling staircase. I could see the end of them. There were less than twenty left, and only two floors before the royal chambers.
“Onward!” I called, raising my sword, “Onward!” I encouraged as my men flowed past me, “There’s a bitch up there waiting to get fucked! First man there gets her while she’s still tight! Last man there won’t even touch her sides!”
“Lord Huntiata!” A voice called from behind me. King Lucas Ternias was making his way up the right side of the corridor, my men racing past him. “I need her alive!”
“If you want to tell the boys how to fight, then I suggest you grab a sword and get in front!” I barked, grabbing him by the scruff, “In case you didn’t notice on your way up here, my boys have been getting their shit kicked in every step of the way. They’re gonna be wolves by the time they reach the top floor. Are you going to stop them?”
“Unhand me!” He snarled.
I rested the point of my blade beneath his chin. “You don’t tell me what to do, Your Highness. When they put that crown on your head, you remember who bought it for you.”
He sneered. “You’re a brute, Huntiata, and brutes are awful brave when brutality is at hand. Kill me then. Become the king, and see how brave you are when you have to face real power.”
I pressed the blade a little harder. “If Lady Straltaira were alive, I’d put this in your brain right now.”
“But she’s dead, Huntiata, killed by that woman up there. I’m all you have.”
“You miss my point, Ternias.” I growled, “You’re replaceable.”
“So are you.” He snapped, and walked by me. “Onward, men!” He called, “Onward to victory! I’ll make a knight out of every man that gets to the top!”
The men cheered and raced by him. He looked back at me, and sneered.
LEVERIA
I could hear the clash of steel clearly through the door. They were on the last flight of stairs. After the last guard fell, the protection spells would kill a dozen men, but then there would be nothing between them and me.
I bit down on the belt, and pulled it tight. It squeezed my arm below the bicep, and I clenched my fist until I could see the vein standing from the silky flesh. Carefully, not wanting to hurt myself, I angled the needle, and slid it into the blue vein.
“Ow.” I muttered, the belt falling from my teeth. I kept my finger on the plunger, and waited, listening for the sounds that would preclude my end. I wasn’t holding onto hope, but simply savoring the last moments of clarity before I died in the cold comfort of heroin’s embrace. The ringing of steel, the clash of iron, the screams and shouts, the pounding on the walls. How many royals had heard that cacophony before the end? Many. The weak, the stupid, and the overreaching almost all died like that. I wonder what they would label me? Probably all three. The shearing of metal became louder, the drone of voices became clearer. I tested the plunger with my finger, waiting for the sounds of footsteps in the hall. How long would it take for the drug to get to my brain? Two heartbeats, I’d heard. I’d pushed all the furniture in front of my office door, and all the furniture before my bedroom door. It would take them a few minutes to get through it. That would be when I pressed the plunger. I heard a pounding of footsteps right on the other side of the wall. They were coming. I took a deep breath, and… wait.
The other side of the wall? I looked to my right. The other side of the bedroom wall wasn’t the hallway; it was a chimney—no, it was the hidden passageway to the bay. The pounding wasn’t footsteps. Someone was beating their fists against the brick wall. Faintly, I heard a voice. “Leveria?!” It called.
I looked down at my arm to make sure I hadn’t just inadvertently killed myself. The syringe was still full, and I was still lucid.
“Leveria?!” It called again, “Leveria, you stupid cunt, open the fucking door!”
My heart jumped in my throat, and I sprinted across the room, and yanked the lever down. The brick wall slid away to reveal… her. She was in a nun’s habit, her robes stained with blood, her face wild, her eyes filling with me. I ran into her arms, and she reeled back and slapped me in the face.
“You could’ve left THREE HOURS AGO!” She screamed, thrusting her finger down the passageway, “Do you know what I had to do to get here?!” She looked at the needle in my arm, and snatched it away with a disgusted expression on her face, “You melodramatic bitch. Everything has to be your way, doesn’t it? You can’t compromise on a single, fucking, thing!”
I rubbed my stinging cheek, savoring the pain of it more than the greatest pleasure. My eyes had welled halfway through her tirade, and now they filled to the brim. I flung my arms around her, and kissed her hard, believing in god for the first time in all my life. She struggled against me, saying such foolish things as, “We have to go now!” and “If we stay here, we’ll die!” but my lips silenced her, and my tongue ceased all objection. She kissed me back, her hands finding my curves, remembering the shape of me. We stayed like that for a beautiful second, then she forced us apart.
“Leveria—”
Now it was my turn to slap her. “You betrayed me!” I snapped.
“On accident!” She growled, “How was I supposed to know Sofia was working for Ternias the whole time?”
I blinked. “Sofia?”
“She was going to kill me and marry Ternias.” Elena said, then looked over at the remains of my husband. “Eric?!”
“He was the hidden traitor from the last conspiracy. I know, I didn’t think he had it in him either.”
She turned back to me. “You really thought I’d choose Ternias over you?”
“You made it quite clear that you would.”
“I was bluffing!”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
A sudden crash sounded from the hallway, followed by an ear-splitting shriek. The last guardsmen had fallen, and the first trap had been sprung. Elena tugged my arm. “Come on!”
“I’m not going.”
She gawked at me. “I will straight-up knock you the fuck out.”
“And where will you take me? On a rowboat to some farming village? Ternias will never stop looking for me, and I refuse to live in fear.”
Three more successive bangs sounded from the hall, and an explosion came after. There was silence, then footsteps. Someone walked the length of the hall, carefully choosing their footing until they were at my office door. “Hey!” The soldier yelled, “We’re clear! Let’s get the cunt!” There was an answering cheer, and the pounding began at the door.
Elena grabbed my arm. I snatched it away, ran over to Eric’s corpse, slid the cuffs off his fingerless hand, and tightened them around my own. Before Elena could stop me, I threw the keys over the balcony. She dove after them, and just barely caught herself on the railing. In the next room, a crack sounded, followed by the splintering of wood. They’d broken through the door.
Elena whirled on me. “You had to fucking do it!”
“I did.” I grinned.
“Goddamn you, Leveria.” She growled, brandishing her dagger.
“You don’t have to stay.” I said, “You can still flee, Elena.”
“If I live through this, I am going to beat your ass to death, I swear it.”
“Just as long as you say you love me while you do it.” I beamed.
She looked side-eyed at me, and grunted. I’d hoped for a romantic last kiss, but she didn’t even touch me. She threw the furniture out of the way, flung open the bedroom door, and charged in with a scream.
ELENA
“Huntiata!” I screamed, bursting through the door.
The watchmen were quite startled to see a knife-wielding dark-elf nun come screaming out of the queen’s bedroom. That shock afforded me three easy kills, as I went from man to man with indiscernible speed. The men behind them regained their bearings faster than I’d hoped, and rushed me at once. I caught a blade on my dagger, ducked a slice, spun on my toes, and cut through one man’s throat. I caught his sword as it fell from his hands, and used its point to pivot on the floor, and deliver a high kick to a man’s chest before I tumbled backward, slicing upward. The slice split one man’s face in half, and the two parts of it opened like a book to reveal the contents of his head. Another man came charging to my side, and I parried his sword, let his momentum carry him down our sliding blades, and then cut his throat as he crossed me. A final man charged me, screaming full-throat, and I ducked his swing, grabbed the back of his head, and shattered the glass of Leveria’s communication mirror with his face. He wheeled around with a sweeping strike, and I leaned to let it pass over my chin, then shot upright to imbed my blade into is eye.
“Huntiata!” I screamed again.
For a second, the room was empty. Then a dozen men burst throat the door, and more flooded in after. I charged them outright, not giving them a chance to surround me. Three men in front thrusted their points at once, and I leapt over them, swinging across their shoulders to decapitate two, and brain the third. I fell in a tumble, rolled onto my feet, and swept in a vicious circle, chopping four legs off at the knee. They went down shrieking, their split knee caps wobbling grotesquely, blood pumping from the stumps. I slid forward just before a pike went in my back, and caught a decapitating strike on my sword. Before they could pin me, I put my weight on my heels, and jumped backward, the point of my blade leading the way. I impaled two men, pulled my sword out, whipped it to slash a third’s belly, then came around to chop into a fourth’s head. A big fellow came barreling after me, and I sidestepped to let him run off the balcony. His scream carried after him, then cut short with a distant splash.
“Huntiata!” I screamed a third time.
I dashed at a man with a pike, dodged his thrust, and let the pole go across my leaning chest just to put my sword through his mouth. Using him as an offensive shield, I drove the blade through another man’s chest before rending their bodies in two, and hacking a third man through the shoulder. He went down screaming, and the man behind him rushed through the fountaining blood just to find my dagger in his belly. Backhanding the stab, I rolled off his doubled-over body, flailed out with my sword, and cut a man’s jaw clean off. I descended, sprawled out and exposed, a man’s pike was barreling toward me. I couldn’t get my sword-arm free, and so I abandoned the weapon and twisted out of the way, but not in time. The edge of the pike cut through my side before the point of it was imbedded into the man I was rolling off. I cried out, clutching at my ribs and backing away.
The room filled with watchmen, dozens turning to scores, so many that there wasn’t a space between them. The front row of pikemen harried me toward the balcony, shark’s grins on their faces.
“Huntiata!” I screamed over them. They just laughed, thrusting their sharp points at me, making me step closer and closer to my end. “Huntiata!” I screeched. The men in front laughed harder, some of them mimicking me tauntingly. They thrusted, and I parried two blows before the third caught me in the shoulder. I yelped, leaping backward. My butt landed on the edge of the railing, and I tipped precariously. “Huntiata!” I shrieked louder. My call was only answered with more laughter. The pikes retracted, their points glinting in the torchlight.
“Huntia—” And they thrusted once more, cutting off my voice, sending me toppling backwards. I flailed to catch the railing, but my fingers only brushed it. My stomach dropped as gravity took hold, and I fell screaming into oblivion. The wind stole my voice. The tower became small. The sky seemed to fall before my flailing arms and legs. The seconds stretched through eternity, then stopped suddenly. A picture of a purple sky lit by a full moon swam in my vision, then darkened to blackness. There was no warmth, nor cold. There was nothing. My last awareness of myself dwindled, and my last breath slowly seeped from me. A thought stayed in my mind for the last moments. It was an image, mostly black, but in the middle, there was a… what was there? It was a… a…
LEVERIA
“Elena?” I asked softly, almost as though she was simply making coffee in the next room. I’d heard the scream, I’d heard it fade, and I’d heard the splash below, but I couldn’t believe it. “Elena?” I called again.
Eric’s dead face was slack beside me, but his bloodied lips seemed to grin. I pulled on the chair, but it was an oak piece, much too heavy for me. I looked over at my knife set. It was well out of reach. The laughter in the next room quieted.
“Ok, where is the bitch?” A man asked.
“That’s the royal bedroom right there.”
“The one that dark-skinned savage jumped out of?”
“That was Elena Straltaira.”
“Traitorous whore. Can’t believe they let that darky slut in the Noble Court. Ray, go check the bedroom, see if there’s anyone in there.”
The door creaked open. He was a young man, maybe only eighteen. He was handsome with a kindly face, his features fair and gentle. He looked at my husband’s body, then he looked at me. What story he deduced from the scene, I did not know. I shook my head at him, pleading with my eyes. He chewed on his lip, then looked over his shoulder.
“Don’t!” I whispered.
He looked back at me, the conflict playing across his face.
“Don’t!” I begged, tears cornering my eyes.
His expression softened. He looked from me, to the open passage in the fireplace, then to the cuffs on my wrist.
“Key?” He mouthed.
I shook my head, tears streaming down my cheeks. “Ambassador Straltaira kidnapped me. She handcuffed me to this chair, and she… she made me watch what she did to my husband!”
“Hey, Ray, what the fuck’s going on in there?” Someone yelled.
“This place is rigged with traps!” He called over his shoulder.
“Do you see the queen?”
“I’m looking!” He yelled impatiently. He chewed on his lip, looking around the room. His eyes fell upon the bloody snippers. He took them, and slid the blades around the chains of my cuff. He gave an exerted grunt, squeezed, and the chains broke free.
“Thank you!” I whispered.
He put his finger to his lips, looking nervously at the door. “Come on.” He mouthed, and took my hand. He slid along the wall until he got to the doorway, peeked through the slit of light, then held up his other hand. “On the count of three, you run to the passage.” He mouthed.
I nodded.
He held up one finger, then another, then another. I ran behind him, using his body as cover, and he yanked me around, and threw me through the doorway. I was sent sprawling into my office, my vision filled with booted feet. There was a moment before my realization where I wondered why he had sent me on this detour. Then my flesh prickled, and a terror like I’d never known crept into my chest. I looked up. All around me were faces. Some were bearded, some were ragged, some were bloody, and some were fair, but they were all strangers, and all merciless, their blue eyes filled with avarice and hate.
“Look what I found!” Ray jeered behind me.
Someone whooped, and the whole room filled with sardonic laughter. I scrambled backwards on my hands and heels, and smacked into Ray’s shins as he shut the door behind him.
“Where are you going, Your Highness?” He sneered down at me, “Your loyal subjects are here to pay tribute!”
“I’ve got two sacks full of treasure just for you!” A man grinned down at me, grabbing his crotch.
“I got a pair of jewels as well, and a staff to go with them!” Another chortled, looming above me.
“Sorry I didn’t pay my taxes on time.” A bearded older man cackled, “But I guess now’s a good time to make a deposit, eh, Your Highness?”
“Right in the royal bank!” A man snatched me by the heels, and I kicked him in the face. His head shot back, and he howled with laughter, “Oh, she’s still got some fight in her!” He grinned wolfishly at me, blood running from his nose, “I like it when they squirm.”
“Get up!” A man growled, and his fist was in my hair, hauling me to my knees.
“You look so pretty in that red dress.” Another man growled, pawing at the shoulder straps, “Did you wear it just for us?”
“Here’s your crown, my queen.” Someone laughed, and adorned my head with my tiara, “It looks so pretty on you!”
“Such a hot little piece!” Growled a bearded man, “I can’t wait any longer!” He wrenched down his pants, and his stinking fat cock shot out. He palmed the entire top of my head, and moved it forward.
“I’ll bite it off!” I snarled, baring my teeth.
He drew a dagger, and sneered behind it. “You bite something off; I cut something off.”
“Is that so?” I asked, and before he could answer, I snatched the combat knife out of his boot, and drove it to my chest.
“Whoa there!” Jay laughed, grabbing my wrists, the point of the blade quivering just a hair before my heart. I struggled with him, pulling with all my might, but he just held my arms out before me, and roared, “Three cheers for Queen Leveria, the slayer of Queen Leveria!”
“Hoorah! Hoorah! Hoorah!” They cheered, and broke out into applause. I didn’t want to cry, but I couldn’t stop myself. Tears of frustration poured from my eyes as I feebly tried to die, but sweet death would not come to me.
“What’s the matter, Your Highness?” Jay sneered, “I just saved your life.”
I twisted in his arms, and he held me without effort. With a flick of his wrist, the dagger slipped from my hands, and clattered between my legs.
“I’ll kill you.” I hissed, then screamed, “I’ll kill all of you! You think you know suffering?! You think you know pain?!”
“No, but you will.” Came a familiar voice. The crowd of men parted, and Lucas Ternias stepped before me. He savored the sight of me, his eyes running over every inch of my splayed body until they met my gaze, and a victorious sneer crawled across his thin lips. “Do not call this woman ‘Your Highness,’ or ‘Your Grace,’ or ‘my queen.’” He said, “Do not even call her ‘my lady.’ She is no one. She is nothing. She isn’t even a whore, for she will not demand that you pay. She’s just… a toy. My gift to you brave men who have fought so valiantly for your country.”
“Lucas…” I hissed, “don’t do this.”
“Lucas?” He raised his brows, “Is that what you call your king?”
“I’m begging you.” I whispered.
His smile grew broader. He stepped between my legs, and loomed over me. Then he extended his hand, his family ring glinting in the torchlight. “Show me how you beg.” He said softly, “Grovel like the beggar you are, and I will show you mercy.”
I got onto my knees, the tears flowing freely down my cheeks. I leaned forward, closed my eyes, and planted a kiss upon the ring. He pulled back his hand, and I looked up at him. He wasn’t smiling anymore, but his eyes were laughing.
“Soldier, what is your name?” He asked Jay.
“Sergeant Jay Kaylinia, Your Highness.” He answered.
“A sergeant, at your age?” He smiled, “What an enterprising young man you are. That box you have in your had. Do you know what those syringes are filled with?”
“No.” I whispered, “You said you would give me mercy.”
“So I am, in a way.” He said, the corner of his mouth turning, “Were you as practical a woman as you pretend to be, you would see it as mercy. But pride has always been your folly, and you cling to it still. Let me remove that folly from you.”
“What is this, Your Highness?” Jay asked.
“Liquid congeniality.” Ternias said with a wry smile, then turned on his heel. “Keep her alive and in one piece, gentlemen. I have use for her.”
I felt the injection in my shoulder, and the plunger depress. I whimpered. My body went cold as the last tendrils of fear took me, then… they were gone. I was hot. I was so hot. The world was bathed it warm colors, and the smells saturated my mind. Men. So many men. I reached feebly for the dagger between my legs, but my wrist caught the hem of my dress, and the silken fabric moved like liquid between my legs. I was wet. So wet. My fingers retracted before the hilt of the dagger, and a man picked it up off the carpet. Oh, the carpet was so plush, the little fibers running along my flesh, whispering through my nerves. It was a gentle sensation, but I did not desire gentle sensations. I looked up at the man before me. His cock was still out, rigid and thick, a froth of precum bubbling delectably from its tip.
“Kill me.” I hissed at him. No, I purred it, and I didn’t say ‘kill me;’ I said, “Fuck me.”
The men looked at one another, laughter on their faces, laughter in their voices. Were they laughing at me? Had I made a fool of myself? What a silly slut I was, thinking my mouth was for talking. I drew myself languorously to my knees, but my sensuality was robbed from me when a man at my side suddenly seized my face, and drove his fat cock into my mouth. Everyone laughed and cheered, and I gagged around him. He balled his fists into my hair and throat-fucked me, smashing my face against his crotch, making me smell the sweet stink of death and sweat that made up his miasma. Drool dripped down my chin, I glugged with every motion, and hands came upon me.
“Suck it, you stupid fucking slut!” The man growled, spittle leaking from his clenched teeth, and I hummed around his driving shaft, my eyes half-mast in lust. Suffocate me until I die.
Their hands descended upon me, pulling my bodice down to release my breasts in a jiggling explosion of alabaster flesh, hiking up my skirt so that it shot to my hips, exposing my ass, the lewd options between my cheeks, the salivating lips. I was touching them, moving my fingers in and out, moaning around the cock that ravaged my throat. Even as my head was jerked violently back and forth, my body undulated with graceful desire, my hips moving back so that my cheeks spread on their own.
“This cunt wants it bad.” A man growled in my ear, and ripped my hand away. He placed it around his warm throbbing cock, and I stroked it with my juices lubricating the motion, covetously squeezing. Strangle me to death.
“Give me a piece!” Came another growl, and my other hand was wrapped around another cock.
“I’ve always wanted to know what royal pussy tastes like.” A man’s face moved between my legs, his rough stubble grazing my soft lips coarsely. He wasn’t skilled with his mouth, he ate me like a pig, but it didn’t matter. I grinded on his face, my hums rising in their pitch, and I stroked the men beside me with more passion. His tongue writhed within me, licking my leaking walls, sliding thickly against that spot inside me until I was quivering with pleasure. He sucked hard on my clit, drawing it between his teeth, and I bucked atop him, whining around the cock in my throat, my asscheeks clapping behind me in glee. He ended his vulgar kiss with a smack, and slid up my body, grabbing my breasts, squeezing them until it hurt. I moaned with need, trying to angle my hungry slit onto him. He finally grabbed his manhood and forced it all the way inside me, and my back dove into an arch, my pubis slamming onto him to take all that it could. My mouth broke free from the man before me, and . I screamed, ‘I’ll fucking kill you all!’ but what came out of my mouth was, “Fuck my slutty little pussy!”
There were whoops then, high-fives all around, and I smiled lecherously at the lot of them, licking my lips like I was at a buffet. Then the man in front grabbed my head, and forced his meat back down my throat. I looked up at him with blue eyes full of gratitude, and I employed every skill I had into milking his shaft. Choke me to death.
“I can’t wait. I’m going in dry!” Someone yelled, and my hips were grabbed, a cock sliding through my crack, the throbbing head finding my anal button, and pushing into it. An enormous pressure formed in my nethers, every inch of me filled with hot man. Gore me from the inside.
All I could do was weep with joy, sucking, slurping, gargling on the man’s meat before me until he thrusted forward, holding me against his loins, and he emptied down my throat. I drank it greedily, rotating on his base, my gullet churning with my gluttonous swallows until he pulled out, and I was gasping, smiling open-mouthed at him, growling like a bad girl to my daddy. Gouge out my eyes so that I can’t see you.
“More!” I called, “Give me more!”
“I got what you want!” A man sneered, proffering his bulbous organ.
“And me too!” Another laughed beside him.
I grinned at the pair of them, my mouth parted to yield my moans as my body rocked to the fervent rhythm of the men raping my holes. Oh god, please let me die.
I took both cocks into my mouth at once, letting them take their turns driving into my gullet. I looked upon them rapturously, my cheeks puffed, my lips salivating stupidly around their shafts. All the while, my body bent and jerked violently, my ass jiggling ferociously, their cocks pumping together, driving, thrusting, plunging into my depths, piercing me over, and over and over, and oh, god! I was coming, my eyes rolling back into my head, guttural tones flowing from my occupied mouth. I jerked the men at my sides with a fervency, and the men below me matched their pace, stretching me open, breaking me in, ruining my sanctity for all to see. They began groaning and growling, and I worked their shafts with my lewd muscles, milking them, desperate to have them sate my starving wretched insides. With a scream and an arching back, I came, and sensation exploded within me. They erupted, spurting thick viscous spunk into my tender depths, the heat radiating disgustingly into my bowels and womb. My sanity began to ebb back, but another needle was put into me, this one directly into my taint, and the world was veiled in pink. Give me sweet blackness.
“Give this slut more!” Someone yelled, and pulled my cheeks apart. The men wrenched their cocks out, showing the gaping ruby ruin of my two holes, and everyone cheered. The men I was stroking took their place, and a third man squeezed in, and before I could even shout with glee, they were inside me at once, two stretching my pussy open, the third squishing my taint against them with his cock deep in my shithole. I mewled delightedly, backing into them, taking them deeper. My pussy lips were stretched taut and pulled from my slit with the strain, turned to an oval of thin membranous flesh, but still I pushed my pubis down, relishing the pain, the tension, the fullness of my whore’s cunt. Tear me in half.
The men in my nethers began to thrust, and new men took my hands. The two cocks in my mouth pulsated and throbbed, and I worked them with a frantic sensuality, my hair flailing beneath my bouncing tiara, my eyeliner running down my face, ropes of spit coming off my chin. I was ugly. I never felt so beautiful in all my life. They pulled out and came on my face, marking me with their seed. I licked it up, and grinned wantonly, eyeing the next prize. An older man came up, his shaft rigid in his hand. I made to take him in my mouth, but he grabbed me viciously by the hair, and wrenched my face toward the ceiling. Then, to the amusement of everyone, he spread his hairy cheeks to expose his anus, and sat on my face. I actually giggled. I wrapped my lips around his delicious asshole, and wriggled my tongue into it. With his balls pulsing pleasantly on my nose, I lathered his disgusting insides, tasting every surface my tongue could reach. He smeared his rank sweat across my face, grinding on me as everyone laughed, and I just kept licking, prodding his prostate with the tip of my tongue, going insane from the horrific stretching of my cunt. My head tilted back to put the full weight of him on my mouth, and I felt the strain in my quivering neck. Snap my spine.
The men in my pussy began thrusting in turns, the one in the back moving in tandem with the man in my ass, squishing the membrane of my holes, brutalizing the nerves there. The man in front stretched my slit all the way to my clit, making it so that his cock rubbed against the engorged bead with every thrust. It was too much. I was forced into a static position to eat the man’s ass, so I could only endure the ecstasy, my entire body palsying with it. They came one after the other inside me, adding their filth to the mixture. They ripped their cocks out, and a cheer arose as my yawning cunt and asshole leaked with their seed. Another injection was put into my taint, and every sensation was dialed up. I screamed in delirious joy, and made the man atop my face come with just my tongue. He splattered my hair and back, his shitter winking and clenching around my wriggling member, sucking it deeper inside of him. I milked his spasming organ until he was done, and then he dismounted, and backhanded me across the face. A little harder and you might knock me out.
“You filthy pig-cunt!” He snarled.
“Yes!” I grinned, “Hit me! Humiliate me! Rape me! More! Give this filthy slut more of your cocks!”
“You heard her!” Jay laughed, “We’ve got a hundred boys in here, and she won’t be happy until she’s fucked every, last, one!”
A great cheer rose up, and I joined it, laughing manically. They picked me up by my armpits, and dropped me on top of two cocks, piercing me to the bottom. I screamed in pleasure, and screamed higher with every thrust, reaching out to grasp more. My legs were hooked under one man’s arms, my ass dipping low to take them all the way, my torso pressed between them, their bodies rubbing their stink on me. I panted between them, my body lifted and dropped, helpless, hopeless, violated again and again. The sudden impacts vibrated through my core, their tips punched deep into my tender coils, raping me in virgin places. I sobbed in delight, begging them to make it worse, begging them with my heart and soul to hollow me out until my holes merged! They did their best, thrusting with the fervor of battle, driving deeper and deeper until my tongue was lolling stupidly from my mouth, and I simply gasped like some animal. The man behind me wrapped his fingers around my throat, and I couldn’t even breathe then. I came. I came so hard that I pissed all over the man in front of me, and the men watching roared with laughter. He squished my cheeks together with his hand, and spit in my face as he fucked me, mingling his stinking saliva with the cum that ran in thick rivulets down my complexion. Another injection was given, and my vigor was renewed. Split me in half.
After they came inside me, I was tossed into the crowd. They tore at me, ripping my dress asunder, exposing every inch of my beauty. They desecrated it. They dropped me onto the carpet, and ten men pissed all over me, their hot stinking showers suffusing my flesh with heat. I moaned, dancing in the golden stream, opening my mouth to taste their waste. Drown me.
“You like the taste of my piss?!” A man snarled.
“I’m just your fucking toilet! Piss on me, spit on me, cum on me! I love it all!” I squealed.
They hoisted me off the ground, the piss dripping from my body. They made a bridge of my holes, fucking my pussy, fucking my throat, and one man straddling me to fuck my tits, driving his thick shaft into the succulent wet mammary fat, his thumbs pressing down on my nipples. I screamed around the meat in my throat, writhing in the air, reaching out once more to grasp the throbbing gifts they had for me. The man in my slit pounded so hard that I thought he might break my pelvis, and I loved every second of it, my belly gyrating in the air to drive my pubis forward and take him for all that he was worth. He came inside me, and the next man took his place. Eviscerate me.
One after the other, they raped me like this, holding me parallel to the ground, using my holes as they pleased. After ten men had dumped their loads inside me, a new group snatched me, and pressed me against the wall. With my face grinding against the stones, and my breath fogging the window across from me, they forced me to bend over, and they began taking turns in my ass. Oh, they were brutal with me, holding me against the wall in such a way that my chest was in line with my legs, but my abdomen and hips were perpendicular. In the position, they drove deep into my rectum, opening it, punching through the inner sphincters, violating me deep. I blubbered in delight, clawing at the wall, begging them for more, more, more! They began fucking my ass two at a time, then three when it became too loose, and I was sobbing against the wall, my tears streaking down my face, my most heinous depths churning with a pleasure that was never meant to be felt, but oh, it was horrible, and oh, it was so great! Their rods grinded against my tender innards, every surface stretched to expose every nerve to them, and I felt things no woman should! I came from my ass, my pussy spurting its delight between my quivering thighs, and there was Jay to inject me once more. I screamed and prolapsed, shitting copious volumes of cum from my crowning rose, and as I sobbed in ecstasy, they cheered me. Rip my guts out.
They took a wine glass from the cabinet, and I dutifully spread my cheeks and pushed out every ounce of cum that I could, moaning as my winking outturned rectum pulsed. I drank the contents with relish, savoring all the little flavors that soaked my palate, raising my pinky as though I were downing a fine cocktail. I collected the spillage from my chin, and sucked my finger, eyeing all the men I had yet to please. They put me on the table, and began railing between my legs, holding my arms above my head. One man was in my pussy, then two, then three. Their hot shafts writhed together, kneading the saturated sheath they stretched to ruinous levels. In and out, in and out, in and out; my body lurched, their hands pinning it down, squeezing into the succulent parts of me. I tilted my head back to taste a cock, and the flavor of my ass filled my mouth. Some men were taking more turns than they were supposed to, those naughty, naughty boys. I sucked them covetously, their balls resting on my nose, their musky scent filling my nostrils.
I tasted my ass and pussy on their cocks, and I relished each, my muzzle now glazed with their nectar, my face crusted with it. I’d lost my mind hours ago. I didn’t know who I was. I didn’t know where I was. There was just flesh everywhere, and I devoured it with every hole I could. Then I felt the night air on my skin. When had I been taken outside? I was in a topless palanquin, being paraded around the noble district as I was fucked senseless. Faces that I recognized but did not know stared with covered mouths as my loose holes were filled with cocks, fingers and fists.
“My queen?!” Someone gasped. Who was that woman? She seemed positively shocked. I grinned lecherously at her, inviting her to join with a beckoning finger. She turned around, and walked away.
“All hail, Queen Tiadoa, last of her name, and last of her line!” The man in front called. Some people on the side of the road cheered. Others cried out in anger. I didn’t care. I was being fucked in the ass and cunt, writhing between four men, making a seat of their laps. They displayed me between them, an idol of defilement, my body glazed, my hair matted, my flesh pocked with red marks, bruises, and cuts. I was weeping. Why was I crying? Somewhere within me was a horror so great that it was unfathomable. Like the realization of a nightmare, this horror was familiar to me, an unspeakable thing that lurked in the darkest depths of my subconscious. Why was I screaming? I pushed the horror down deep, and grinded on the men filling me, thinking only on the pleasures being bored into my nethers.
I was paraded down the main promenade, out of the noble district, through the finance district, and into the market district. Thousands of people lined the streets even at this hour, and they roared at me, throwing food and worse. I bathed in their attention and shame, garnering more pleasure from their vitriol than I could ever from their adoration. All the while, I grinded on the cocks inside me, moving with automatic avarice, moaning and screaming without mind to my audience. They took me all the way to the lower tiers of the city, where the downtrodden and destitute emerged from their shacks to bear witness to me. These people didn’t laugh, yell, or jeer, but simply stared slack-jawed at what they were seeing. I waved to them with a grand smile, and the parade moved back up the promenade. Somewhere before I was taken into the castle, I lost my mind completely.
End of Part Thirteen.