McIan
Journeyman
The wraith slipped undetected into the upper-story bedroom at Alderia’s Oasis, having procured the backup key to its locked door. It hovered just inside, preparing to awaken the two sleepers within.
A young woman in bed awoke suddenly and sat up. “Who is that?!” she blurted out loudly, spotting the intruder.
The noise stirred a man sleeping beside her and he rolled over, blinking. “Go back to sleep,” he muttered. “You’re dreaming.”
The lady pointed at the wraith which had not moved. “That’s no dream, Torak! I’m getting out of here!” she cried, as she arose and began clothing herself rapidly. “Another of your weird friends?”
Torak sat up and saw what she had seen. His eyes widened in shock.
“Get her out of here,” the wraith declared in a loud hissing whisper.
“Wha… who…?”
“I will not repeat myself,” warned the wraith.
Torak waved his right arm as if shooing the woman away. Having dressed at least modestly, she hurried to the door as the wraith stepped aside to let her pass. As she departed she sent an angry rejoinder, “Don’t talk to me again, Torak! I won’t be treated like this!” She slammed the door behind her.
“Insolent wench,” he muttered. “Who cares?”
“The master has need of you. Come at once. No delay.” The wraith commanded before exiting.
Torak sighed. What now?
“You want me to go where milord?” Torak inquired, wishing he had not heard what he had just heard. He had met with Damian at the castle great hall.
“Your hearing is impaired? Must I repeat myself? If so, it comes with a price,” Damian stated.
Torak extended his hand and shook his head. “No, sire… it’s just… well, she… she… has it in for me. I am sure she will kill me. See… I did not tell her your son was a werewolf and, well, he raked her pretty good.”
Damian nodded. “I know all of this. You told me before. She won’t kill you. Just think of it as getting a most distasteful ordeal over with. We all have that to do occasionally.”
“Milord, why not send Galbin?! He’s one of her crew. She seems to accept him. He can…”
“Torak. I need not explain myself to you. I give you a few days to prepare yourself for… whatever she has in store for you… but you must go yourself. I will send a note along with you. You will give it to her before the event if possible.”
“The event milord?”
“Yes, the merciless beating she will doubtlessly inflict upon you. Fortunately I will inscribe it in such a way that your coherence in reading it to her will not be a factor in its accurate transmission.”
Torak was no coward. In fact, he could be very brave at times, but at this moment he fought off the urge to swoon. Between the language his master used, and his piercing, threatening, gaze, he realized further argument was not only useless but would be painful. He nodded slowly. “As you wish sire,” he agreed. “I will await your word.”
“Yes, but not here. Go back to the Inn and stay, or find solace elsewhere. If my queen finds you here, well, you will get an early taste of what is to come… or maybe a last,” Damian taunted. “Return in two days to me. All will be ready.”
A young woman in bed awoke suddenly and sat up. “Who is that?!” she blurted out loudly, spotting the intruder.
The noise stirred a man sleeping beside her and he rolled over, blinking. “Go back to sleep,” he muttered. “You’re dreaming.”
The lady pointed at the wraith which had not moved. “That’s no dream, Torak! I’m getting out of here!” she cried, as she arose and began clothing herself rapidly. “Another of your weird friends?”
Torak sat up and saw what she had seen. His eyes widened in shock.
“Get her out of here,” the wraith declared in a loud hissing whisper.
“Wha… who…?”
“I will not repeat myself,” warned the wraith.
Torak waved his right arm as if shooing the woman away. Having dressed at least modestly, she hurried to the door as the wraith stepped aside to let her pass. As she departed she sent an angry rejoinder, “Don’t talk to me again, Torak! I won’t be treated like this!” She slammed the door behind her.
“Insolent wench,” he muttered. “Who cares?”
“The master has need of you. Come at once. No delay.” The wraith commanded before exiting.
Torak sighed. What now?
* * *
“You want me to go where milord?” Torak inquired, wishing he had not heard what he had just heard. He had met with Damian at the castle great hall.
“Your hearing is impaired? Must I repeat myself? If so, it comes with a price,” Damian stated.
Torak extended his hand and shook his head. “No, sire… it’s just… well, she… she… has it in for me. I am sure she will kill me. See… I did not tell her your son was a werewolf and, well, he raked her pretty good.”
Damian nodded. “I know all of this. You told me before. She won’t kill you. Just think of it as getting a most distasteful ordeal over with. We all have that to do occasionally.”
“Milord, why not send Galbin?! He’s one of her crew. She seems to accept him. He can…”
“Torak. I need not explain myself to you. I give you a few days to prepare yourself for… whatever she has in store for you… but you must go yourself. I will send a note along with you. You will give it to her before the event if possible.”
“The event milord?”
“Yes, the merciless beating she will doubtlessly inflict upon you. Fortunately I will inscribe it in such a way that your coherence in reading it to her will not be a factor in its accurate transmission.”
Torak was no coward. In fact, he could be very brave at times, but at this moment he fought off the urge to swoon. Between the language his master used, and his piercing, threatening, gaze, he realized further argument was not only useless but would be painful. He nodded slowly. “As you wish sire,” he agreed. “I will await your word.”
“Yes, but not here. Go back to the Inn and stay, or find solace elsewhere. If my queen finds you here, well, you will get an early taste of what is to come… or maybe a last,” Damian taunted. “Return in two days to me. All will be ready.”