Written 2006

Posted 09-21-22
Revised 09-22-22

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THE BEAUTY AND THE BEAST, CHAPTER 4

A story of Necromantra

By Aladdin

Edited by Christopher Leeson
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Chapter 4

Plots and Plans
 
Captain Arielle shook her blonde head, as if trying to shoo away flies.

“The sword was given to me by a demon, she said with effort, “-- at the price of a dozen lives – the lives of my friends and retainers. I hate the thing with a passion, but if don’t hold on to it, the sword will only drift away and find another master -- maybe someone worse than I am. I can’t help but dread what it could do in the wrong hands. If you’re a sorceress, Marinna, you may understand what I'm saying.”

“I suppose I do. Nothing much surprises me anymore,” I admitted. “But did you actually sacrifice your closest friends to gain control of a magical weapon?”

“I did not!” the knight declared. “They willingly gave up their souls to save my life. We'd attacked Lord Pumpkin’s castle, intending to strike him dead, but he wasn't there and his guards were on alert. I took a death wound in the fighting and as I lay on the flagstones, a demon appeared and offered my men my life for all their deaths. Though I was still conscious and forbade it, they ignored me.

“After they perished, the Hell magic rendered me fully healed. The demon lingered for just a little while and gifted me with this sword, saying only that I should never let it go. Then he vanished. Probably he was an enemy of Lord Pumpkin, but I can only guess at his motives. He’d explained nothing! In anger, and even shame, I threw the blade into a wall, but where it struck the stone a portal opened, a kind of swirling light. My intuition told me it would lead to the Pumpkin and so I walked through. The next few seconds looked and felt like being propelled through the midnight sky.

"The next thing I realized, I'd arrived elsewhere. I smelled whiff of something like rotten pumpkins and as I followed the odor I saw buildings, objects, and artifacts on every side -- all of which told me that I had to be very far from home in a very strange land.

“Obviously you weren’t able to find and kill the Pumpkin,” I conjectured.

“I did kill him. But because of the sorcery that created him, he has a way of returning from the dead. If I’d had more time, I would have burned his body to a cinder, but as soon as he was lying broken at my feet, the sword exerted its power and dragged me back to Ulik.”

I thought that her protest sounded too pat, but didn’t want to pick holes in it. I had few options left; if I rejected this warrior because of suspicion, I would be left alone and hemmed in, unable to accomplish anything at all. I had to gamble that Captain Airella had at least spoken true about some of the things that mattered.

“My pardon,” I said. “I’m here because you and I may share a common aim.”

“How's that?”

“You avowed that Princess Arielle has some rights in this ludicrous affair. Too few people seem to remember that.”

She gave me a hard look. “How am I to believe that you could actually care about the princess? From what I've heard, Queen Marinna was a ruthless tyrant with the blood of hundreds on her hands.”

“That much is true,” I told her. “But that that was then and this is now.”

“You'll forgive me if I remain reluctant to take you at your word, Lady,” she said.

“Do you have a saying in Ulik, something along the lines of ‘actions speak louder than words’? Do me the favor of judging me on what I do; I don't expect you to believe everything I say. To begin with, tell me how many men you're able to bring into battle.”

She frowned. “That depends what you expect them to fight for.”

“I'd be asking them to protect Princess Arielle’s life and – if they are willing – secure her throne.”

“If those are the terms, I can engage maybe a dozen men-at-arms,” she said. “The rest are committed to me personally, not to Tavon’s heir. Though I personally liked and honored High Prince Tavon, his reign was so brief that he didn’t gain any wide or deep following. Our people have been oppressed for so long that they're desperate for a strong leader who’s truly on their side. They won’t care for the idea of elevating a unseasoned minor. Clearly, most are not enthusiastic for either Armand or Erhan, but most would find either of them acceptable -- as long as that one wants peace as much as they do.”

“So you say. But I think Arielle possesses both the head and the heart to become a rare queen. But for right now I have a question.”

“What?”

“You claim to be a leader for whom grown men are willing to fight and die, so why haven’t you made a claim upon the throne yourself?”

She shook her head. “A move like that would make me just one more opportunist adding to the confusion. I have no personal royal right; I’m only related to the royal family through the late queen’s side. Tavon took to wife one of the minor nobility for love, not political advantage.”

On the surface, the captain’s excuses were plausible, but I had a hunch that she was something holding back – perhaps she'd been involved in a scandal or there was another disqualifying problem. I had no inclination to pry.

“As I say, I came here hoping that we might serve the princess together,” I told her.

Arielle frowned. “And as I've already asked, why should I trust you?”

“When I reigned,” I told her, “I was insane. I’d been insane even before I arrived here. But at present I'm able to think clearly and I want to do right by your cousin. I'm forced to act quickly, though, lest I turn lunatic again. You believe that I'm serving Armand’s interests, but that's only because I’m forced to.”

“How are you being forced?”

“Powerful interests will slay the princess if I don’t do exactly as I’m told.”

“Are your speaking of either Erhan or Armand?”

“Neither. Behind the scenes, this world is game board for forces that are more powerful than any you might imagine.”

Arielle shook her head. “I want to help my young cousin, but I’m against keeping this kingdom in civil war for longer than necessary.”

“That’s my feeling, too,” I said. “I have sorcery to draw upon, but I need help and advice if I’m going to accomplish anything.”

“I’m not sure what to say,” she replied.

“Say nothing for now. Just listen to the idea I have.”

#

She did listen and then I left her to think things out for herself. After leaving Arielle’s tent, the wobbliness of my my attempt to fly reminded me of how great was my need for a blood sacrifice just then.

Though slaughtering domestic livestock could have empowered me somewhat, the half-formed spirits of dumb beasts are weak. What I needed was the immolation of beings of the highest order. But now that I wasn’t demonically possessed, I felt reluctant to kill selfishly. People will always dispute and fight – that's their nature – but, pound for pound, I didn’t think that the solders of Ulik deserved to die for my sake any more than had Archimage’s knights. So what did that leave me with? Where should I seek my sacrifice? Why can’t a person ever find a rampaging dragon when he needs one?

I thought my best bet was to execute one of the nearby Darkuran contingent. I hadn’t had the chance to slay many Darkurans thus far, except for a few criminals that had been given to me by King Q’zon for execution. That exercise at least had taught me the best method of taking one of them out. The species had a powerful, magically-charged spirit much stronger than even that of a human. Each one of their race would amount to a full meal for me. Yet I had to act in complete secrecy. I had been plighted to obey the king of the Darkurans and to slaughter one of his subjects would break my vow to the Tradesmen and bring about their intervention.

While I veered toward the Darkuran camp, considering how to kill one of the beings conventionally, since any out and out assassination would instantly make me a prime suspect. But I didn’t savor taking on a warrior of Darkur in my present shape, seeing as how what I had to work with was the durability of a lingerie model and the upper body strength of a thirteen year old male.

But at least there would be no lack of weapons around a war camp of this size. I employed my ebbing magic to spirit away a medium-weight sword from a rack of stacked arms.

Being thus equipped, I projected my mystical senses as widely as I could, trying to detect Darkuran life signatures. There were many of these to be found inside their tents, naturally, but it would have been suicide for me to take on a whole squad of them. Fortunately, I zeroed in on a single creature prowling alone through a wooded copse near to the bivouac proper.”

Following his bio-signature as if I were a hound, I soon sighted him visually. Landing, I stalked him to an isolated spot. It was then that I discharged a burst of sorcery at his broad back.

My shot did knock him to his knees, but it wasn’t even strong enough to render the Darkuran warrior unconscious. I ran up and chopped at his head, but the bone that I hit was hard and the hide over it thick. He thrust himself under forest cover and metamorphosed, as quick as thought becoming a formidable battle-beast that was protected by chitin-like plates and many clawed arms. One hand held a blaster pistol.

The Darkuran, getting his first look at me, snorted with scorn. His disdain for being attacked by a mere human female worked in my favor, fortunately; he didn’t shout for help – probably from fear of being laughed at if he did so. “I’ve heard that human meat is almost as tasty as that of the Aerwa,” he rumbled.

“Oh, so you haven’t already eaten humans?” I asked.

“You will be the first,” he deigned to reply.

“If I’d known that, I might have picked on some other guy.” I actually meant that, but I was now in too deep to pull out.

I saw no fear in him. Maybe the Darkur didn’t realize that I was Necromantra, a witch that even his own people dreaded seeing as how I was wearing Ulikan garb.

While the creature was taking his time, savoring an easy slaughter, I took the initiative. The best kill-spot on a Darkuran was his magical change-organ. That thing could repair even a damaged heart, but the Darkuran race had nothing to instantly repair their change-organ itself. Unfortunately, because the aliens were shape-shifters, that organ could be located in different places; I’d need a magical probe to pin it down. Before he acted, I used my adrenaline-charged magic to send my blade at him, shearing off his gun hand and disarming him – or at least “dishanding” him.

The blaster dropped in front of me and seizing it, I rolled away. He shuffled after me in that body that so resembled seafood, determined to make me sorry, but I had learned to be quick on the draw with all sorts of weapons and so fired at what was currently serving as his face. The cry coming out of that ugly puss was weak and strangled.

I shot again at the broad target of his gut – that is, the underside of his natural armor. But that hit couldn’t stop him either and I barely leaped from his way, though the sweep of one arm knocked the energy pistol out of my grasp and into the bushes.

Instead of taking flight, I surprised the Darkur by springing toward my sword on the ground. When he turned to seize me, I switched on my glowing aura to dazzle him.

“You!” the monster sibulated. He had belatedly recognized me for who I was and became unsure how to attack a foe so dangerous. During his hesitation, I sensed out the hiding place of his change-organ and I spent my last burst of energy to drive my blade aimed t at his Achilles’ Heel. I had nothing left to give; either my opponent perished now or I’d have to deal with being dead seconds later.

An indescribable sound issued from the Darkuran's ruined head and he collapsed inert. Almost at once I felt the bio-energy of his expiration flowing into me like a hot jet from a fireman's hose.

Fighting to stay alert, having been made drunk by consuming so much new energy, I heard rushing boots coming through the brush – sentries from his army's camp no doubt. I risked just two seconds of my time to recapture the Darkuran blaster (for possible future use) and then went phantom. As before, I made my escape by way of the underground, using the natural energy of the landscape as a beacon so as not to get lost.

Having resurfaced a good distance away, I flashed the captured blaster into my “mystical closet” and shot up into the fog hanging at treetop level. During my flight, I was reasonable certain that I’d left behind no incriminating clues. A little later, back at my tent, I woke up my enchanted servants and then immediately lapsed into my own exhausted sleep.

#

Bright and early the next morning, I heard the current news that the Darkuran ambassador was fit to be tied about a Darkuran warrior who was slain, but the killer had apparently left no trace.

Since I’d arrived, Armand’s forces had been recruiting well, increasing their host to about twice the size of Erhan’s muster. That growth had made it unlikely that the Duke would be inclined to come out to make a fight of it. On the other hand, odds of two-to-one were insufficient to take a fortified city by storm. I thought it probable that Armand would be thinking about using the Darkurans as a sledge hammer to break open the city walls and begin a street to street fight, as at the fall of Troy (which was a little before my time, admittedly). The Darkurans had firepower enough to bring it off.

If the war ended in such a way, the killing would be horrendous. Hoping to save lives, I went to the viscount with an alternate plan of my own. Ostensibly, it would appear that I was trying to help, but in fact I wanted to weaken Armand’s army by planting suspicion betwixt him and his most dangerous allies.

“My lord,” I said to my unbeloved betrothed, “it would be a pity if your Ulikan supporters became alienated from your cause in the face of outrageous Darkuran atrocities.”

“Do you have anything useful to say, or are you only fretting in the way of every other woman?” he asked.

“I’ve been in the court of Darkur, as you know, and I’ve seen the Darkurans at war; they leave nothing living behind them. And you ought to realize that if you employ their forces in battle, King Q’zon is going to claim total credit for the victory and look at you as someone deeply in his debt. If that happens, the Darkurans are going to be in a position to make heavy demands on your government, probably more than you can responsibly hand over.”

He reacted, but not in any way that I wanted him to. He blandly looked away from me and stared at the map in front of him. “Run along, my lovely,” he said. “Only a fool takes military advice from a woman.”

That rankled, of course. As I saw it, though I'd gained a new body shape, I hadn’t lost my understanding of politics or warfare. I briefly wondered whether I should at last "come out" about my background and capabilities, but decided against it. Smart women know that they hold a great advantage in life because they are continuously underestimated. I was savvy enough to know that I shouldn’t throw away such a valuable asset.

“I know, my lord. But consider this. You’ll arouse local resentment and even make enemies of your surrounding kingdoms if you’re held responsible for introducing Darkuran tyranny into Man Land for years to come. If matters go that far, how will you ever get yourself out from under their thumb?”

“I already know that all my choices are bad ones,” he said.

“Have you ever thought about this: You can win by making Erhan’s faction collapse even without crushing his military strength if you act to undermine his political strength. His major game piece is his pretext that he intends to carry on the legitimate dynasty. But if the princess were lost to him, he won’t have much of anything to offer to his power brokers. I think you’ll agree that the man is neither a lion of charisma nor a beacon of inspiration.”

“Perhaps,” the nobleman answered thoughtfully, “but the fellow is not an idiot, either. He’ll keep Airelle heavily protected and we’ll still have to launch a major assault to rescue her. Such a thing would be a bloody failure without Darkuran help. And if we don't do a successful storm, we'll have to grind though months of siege. A good share of our people will go home if try to make them stand around doing nothing for so long. Also, if we try forcing the Darkurans to be idle, who knows what those monsters will decide to do?”

“That’s one scenario, but there are several others. Ask yourself, what would be the result if you did rescue Airelle without with little violence and then impress the kingdom with your courtly benevolence toward their princess – providing that you treat her respectfully?” I asked.

He looked at me squarely. “What, exactly, is going on inside that devious mind of yours?””

“I propose putting together a plan for me to enter into Roch so that I can use magic to bring her out,” I said.

“Why bring her out?” he asked. “Why not just kill her?”

I looked gave him a hard look. “I don’t want to kill her. She’s my step-daughter.”

The nobleman shook his head and chuckled lightly. “They certainly don’t make stepmothers like they used to!” he said.

TO BE CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 5