Shadow Dance...Chapter Fourteen

Shadow Dance...Chapter Fourteen

Morcant lay quietly in the shadows as people streamed all around his hiding place with buckets of water. ‘Something is wrong. They responded too quickly to the fire.’ He fumed as the smell of burning water filled the air. The scent of ash and burnt manure was heavy, as was the sweet smell of sweat entwined with fear and adrenaline. Morcant allowed himself to be carried off in the pleasant aroma for a moment before locating his prey.

His mind reeled as he sorted the different scents slowing tracing where the horses had been taken. Morcant felt his anger build as he picked his way through the darkened streets increasingly farther from the smoke that he had intended to use a cover. As he moved farther from the inn and its burning stables he was able to pick out the scents easier, so he silently flowed from one shadow to the next as he did so. Something in the back of his head held onto one of the scents and would not let go. He worked on it over and over in his mind trying frantically to place it. He let the familiar scent fill his nostrils hoping to determine why it seemed so familiar to him. As he filled his mouth with it, hoping that is taste would jog his memory, which the realization finally washed over him. He stood outside the entry way of Hornshir’s town hall and he knew that he not only had he lost the horses’ scent, but that he was in trouble. “Guardian.” Morcant growled to himself.

“Very good. Accurate if not quick.” Jerine said haughtily as Morcant spun to face him. “It seems that your years are gaining on you Morcant.” Jerine sneered as he saw Morcant’s rage flicker in his glowing red eyes.

Morcant narrowed his eyes trying to hold his anger in check. “So you led me here,” Morcant said as he motioned to their surroundings. “Did you think that you could trap me…or better yet kill me?” His eyes danced over Jerine looking for any weakness or advantage that he could exploit. “Tell me guardian, exactly how did you plan on fighting me without your much vaunted blade?” Morcant finally said after he finished assessing Jerine’s belongings.

“Do you really think that I need my sword to fight a cur like you? My Morcant, you really are dumber than people have given you credit for.” As Jerine said this Morcant threw himself at Jerine’s chest, which Jerine quickly sidestepped. In one fluid motion Jerine yanked a pair of knives from his boots and braced himself for Morcant’s second attack. He knew that Morcant wouldn’t be as hasty with his second attack and the first one came a little too close to hitting him.

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Skara watched silently from her rooftop perch as the guardian and Morcant’s prey fled down the street toward the market. Her expert eyes followed them, easily taking in the way they moved and the fit of their clothing. Something bothered her about the guardian and it wasn’t until he had faded from view that she fully realized what it was. It was his sword. More importantly, it was the way he carried his sword, almost as if the blade was meant to be used on wood and not on men. Skara closed her eyes and to mentally review the scene again. “His cloak was a little too small for him as well. Interesting.” She mused. Skara laughed quietly as she thought about Morcant’s haste and his carelessness. “Too bad that mangy cur did not look closer.”

Opening her eyes, Skara turned to look over at Jaconis’ window. She knew that her mistress wouldn’t be pleased if she let the human die. Sometimes Skara wondered what her mistress saw in them. Humans were frail and prone to stupidity, not to mention their fowl stench. The only saving grace that Skara could see was their adaptability to unpleasant situations and even that was a stretch for some of them.

Skara scanned Jaconis’ room for any sign of life and she couldn’t help but smiling when she saw him huddled against the window of his room in fear. Sighing deeply Skara slowly crept from her hiding place and walked briskly to the edge of the building. Her slate grey shirt caught the light breeze and she felt the cool wind filter through her skin tight molded leather armor enticingly. “If I wasn’t on assignment I would love to just lay here and bask in this wonderful breeze,” Skara lamented quietly as she gauged the distance between the buildings carefully before making her leap to Jaconis’ windowsill. Skara smiled as adrenaline pumped through her veins. The rush she felt as she landed silently on the edge of the sill brought a surge of ecstasy with it. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to enjoy this simple pleasure. Then she opened her eyes slowly and looked down at Jaconis’ huddled body curled up against the wall just below her, his head was resting between her feet and it was apparent that he was completely unaware of her presence.

She stood there a few more moments before she reached down and lifting his head gently with her hands. She peered into his fear filled eyes as she helped him to his feet and before Jaconis could say anything she motioned for silence. As he stood there bewildered and afraid, Skara quickly scanned his smoke filled room for his scant possession. She breathed a sigh of relief as she spotted them close by. Skara looked back at him, her catlike eyes glowing green in the darkness, as she gathered his things and thrust them into the backpack that lay at the foot of his bead. She smiled as she saw the fear in his eyes and his tears make trails down his cheeks leaving dirty lines of soot in their wake. He was shaking with silent sobs as she watched him and she knew that he was in her complete control.

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Namir’s vision swam as lowered himself to the floor, the hot boards creaking as his weight pressed harder onto its warping surface. The room was unbearably hot. Even the surrounding smoke was superheated. Namir was unsure how much longer he could stay conscious. He had already lost verbal contact with both Hessa and Aves and he had no idea if they were still alive. All he could do try to breathe and that was proving to be a challenge as well. Namir knew that he couldn’t last much longer and was sad that he had led his friends to Hornshir and their deaths. His last thoughts were about Halin and Nurn as the darkness claimed him in its satiny embrace.

Namir felt the unbearable heat ebb away from his body slowly and felt as if he were floating in the cool darkness. While he drifted pleasantly in this unconscious bliss, finally free from the burning pain in his lungs and the hot blistering smoke of the warping wood floor, he heard soft music. The light tenor voice seemed far away at first, but as a light crisp breeze blew across his face the voice seemed to get closer with each passing moment. The lyrics sounded strangely familiar, like a song from his childhood. The familiar song beckoned to him, pleading him to stay in his gentle slumber for a little while longer.

After an eternity of senseless moments, Namir’s head cleared enough to open his eyes. It was still dark, but he could breathe. The cool evening air was a blessing to his scalded skin. He lay there quietly trying to discern where he was. In the distance he heard the muted cries of some sort of commotion. Above him a bird cried, a night hawk from the sound of it and from somewhere closer came a soft humming noise and the gentle splash of water. Namir tried to turn his head to face these nearby noises, but when he did his vision swam distorting everything around him.

“Easy does it. We wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself more now would we?” Halin’s voice softly flitted.

Namir tried to shake his head in an attempt to clear it but a throbbing pain stopped this feeble attempt. He heard Halin’s muffled laugh at this and filled with dismay he finally drew enough strength to ask, “Where am I?”

“Safe for now. Nurn has gone to find Jerine, but Hessa and Aves are here with us too.” Halin answer quietly, his voice no more than a whisper on the light breeze. “Now please be quiet. I don’t want Morcant to find us.”

Namir coughed lightly and then acquiesced to Halin’s wishes, his mind tried to piece together how he had made his way from the burning room and into Halin’s care as he drifted back off to sleep.

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Jerine dove to his right as Morcant’s claws clove through the air beside him. Hurriedly he brought one of his elfin daggers up in time to slice at Morcant’s exposed forearm, but misjudged the beast’s reflexes.

Morcant glared at Jerine, his teeth bared and a thick string of saliva fell from his curled lips. He lunged again before the elf could completely regain his footing. “This fight has gone on for long enough.” Morcant seethed, his hatred for this guardian welling up in him of its own accord. This time he managed to catch a hold of Jerine’s shirt as the elf attempted to sidestep him. Morcant yanked the cloth sharply and drove his clawed hand towards Jerine’s chest. Jerine spun as Morcant pulled him closer. Jerine’s daggers flashed in the dim light and managed to cut his own shirt in half so that he could roll to Morcant’s left side, leaving the beast with only his shirt and not his chest impaled on his greedy paw.

“You’re getting too old Morcant.” Jerine called out mockingly as best he could. Jerine thankfully sent a prayer to his god that he was immune to Morcant’s stare as he felt the beast’s burning gaze fall on him again.

“Guardian, I tire of this. As of yet you have nothing to save yourself with. I have only been toying with you. You have yet to de me any harm and I have managed to draw your blood thrice now.” Morcant sneered as he turned his glowing red eyes towards Jerine. “And you are calling me old.”

Jerine spun raggedly towards Morcant to face him head on. He felt the throbbing pain in his left arm as he did so. The slow realization settled into the back of his mind that if didn’t end the fight soon, Morcant will. Ashe prepared another of Morcant’s lunges he spat vehemently in an attempt to get Morcant off guard, “I hardly think that you are worth the reply.”

Jerine saw the light streaming from Morcant’s eyes as it reflected off of his glistening claws. The stream of drool the arced from Morcant’s frothing mouth was just as hideous. There was only a few seconds until Morcant’s claws tore into his body again. Jerine had to think of something. He attempted to duck under Morcant’s left arm and bring his right dagger up into Morcant’s exposed stomach. Even as Jerine felt the thrill of landing a solid blow, he realized how futile it had been when he felt Morcant’s claws catch the back of his neck in an iron like grip.

“What have I here?” Morcant bellowed as he lifted Jerine’s writhing form off of the flagstones. “It looks like I have a helpless guardian. Where is your steed or your blade now?” Morcant spat blood onto Jerine’s face as he boasted. “Just as I had always thought, your kind is useless without your much vaunted magicks…aren’t you!”

Jerine attempted to answer, but as Morcant shook him from side to side he felt his neck crack in two different places completely numbing his whole body. Jerine could only ponder what Morcant was going to do to him as darkness started to close around his senses.

”No answer, eh Guardian?” Morcant jeered as he saw the poison that he coated his claws with starting to claim his prey. “Too bad, I would have preferred more of a fight.” Morcant dropped the lifeless guardian to the flagstones and took a deep breath. “Oh well, this way I still have enough strength left to hunt down my real prey.” He licked his lips before continuing. “Hopefully I can track your steed down as well; it has been a long time since I have had horse flesh fill my belly.” Morcant stood over Jerine’s limp body and rubbed his stomach while he sneered down at his helpless opponent.

“And it will be even longer still!” A deep voice boomed from behind Morcant. As Morcant turned, a large fist connected with his jaw knocking him against the wall of the closest building. Before Morcant could react another fist hammered into his temples quickly followed by the hilt of a sword.

Morcant struggled to stand against the ceaseless blows of his invisible assailant, but he failed miserably. Every time he tried to move, his unseen attacker hammered at him from a different direction. As he crawled against the wall Morcant tired in vain to catch the scent of his assailant, but each attempt was ruined by the blood flowing freely from his nose and eyes. With one last desperate attempt, Morcant curled his powerful legs under him and launched himself as high as he could in the hopes of breaking free from this dreadful assault.

Startled by the sounds of the scuffle, Jerine struggled to turn and see what was happening. By the time he was finally able to prop himself up enough to see anything, Morcant had already made his desperate leap to freedom. However, Morcant’s attacker didn’t want to let him have his freedom so easily. Jerine saw one of the smaller flagstones free itself from the road and sail into the air hitting Morcant’s legs as he pulled himself onto the top of the closest building. Jerine scowled as he noticed Morcant pull himself out of sight in spite of his wounds. Gloomily Jerine turned to see if he could find his rescuer.

“Well that should slow him down a bit.” Nurn muttered as he drew Jerine’s cloak off of his broad shoulders and handed it back to the guardian.

“Thank you.” Jerine croaked after a few moments, both surprised and relieved to see Nurn. “How did you find me?”

“I thought that you might be with the horses…and since no one had come after Halin I thought that you might need some help. Besides I had your cloak and sword.” With this Nurn handed the silvery blade back to Jerine as well.

Jerine took the sword graciously from Nurn,. As soon as he felt its familiar weight in his hand he felt strength pour into his muscle from the magick of the blade. The familiar burning in his veins and the warm pulse of life that beat in his hand from the hilt eased away his pain and discomfort. Jerine looked at the silver globe set into the pommel of the sword and saw a light tinge of tarnish developing there. He scoffed as he noted Morcant’s ploy and use of poison as his gaze fixed on the growing tarnished section. “It seems that Morcant likes to dabble in poison.” Jerine confided, “I will have to find the antidote for the rest of you if Morcant persists in tormenting us.’

“Agreed.” Nurn rumbled. “So what is her name?” Nurn asked deftly changing the topic as Jerine slowly took to his feet.

“Whose name?” Jerine responded as he snapped out of his thoughts and back to the task at hand. His body was instantly wracked with pain as he refocused his attention on the world around him.

“Your sword’s. You cradle her like a lover so I figured that she has to have a name. What is it?” Nurn asked again, this time helping Jerine by guiding him through the alley and back to the main street.

“Ahhh….” Jerine nodded in understanding and slowly looked around. Aside from the pain, Jerine didn’t notice anything else wrong. No one lurked nearby that might overhear their conversation. “Her name is Nienna Nénharma. It means winter’s first tear in my tongue.”

“It has a nice ring to it…and it is aptly named.” Nurn replied as they made their way to the market.

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Skara stood on the building across from the Flying Muses and watched as the commotion died away. Morcant still hadn’t returned and Jaconis had proved too bothersome to leave awake during his rescue. She turned to look at Jaconis’ unconscious form and smiled. She mused to herself about how peaceful humans looked while sleeping as she felt the night’s winds turn a little chilled. Skara sat down as she started the arduous process of cleaning her fur and clothing from the soot left behind from the smoke. “Next time I’ll have to find another way to get him out.” Skara mused quietly to herself.

“And next time I’ll have to send someone else to my dirty work.” Morcant growled from the shadows directly behind Skara.

Skara jumped at the hatred in his voice and spun around to see Morcant propped up against the wall with blood flowing freely from his swollen face and battered legs. “How long have you been there cur?” Skara demanded feeling indignant by both his intrusion and her failure to perceive him.

“Long enough to know that you have saved one of my prey’s companions from the blaze that you set.” Morcant sneered back, a bloody trail winding its way along his blackened cheek matting his hair dull black.

“My actions are none of your concern!” Skara chided, her voice developed a hostile air as she turned away from him. She slowly made her way over to Jaconis and hovered over him as Morcant approached them.

“Have you gotten soft on the humans now, witch; or are you merely performing our Mistress’ commands?” Morcant leered as he drew menacingly closer.

The smell of ozone that immediately followed the blinding flash silhouetted Morcant’s body was the only answer that he received. The air trembled in anticipation of thunder as the electric bolt stuck Morcant’s back and brought the monstrous beast to his knees. Skara craned her neck as she rubbed her eyes vigorously in a futile attempt to see past Morcant’s hunched over form to make out the source of his misery. It wasn’t until Skara heard the light laughter riding on the cold breeze that she knew their Mistress was the source of the lightening. As this realization dawned on her, Skara fell to her knees throwing herself over Jaconis as if to shield him from her Mistress.

“You have no need to fear, Skara. You have done nothing wrong.” Her deep satiny voice soothed away Skara’s fear of reprisal. “The cur will awaken soon,” ensure that he does so somewhere else…some where that he won’t be easily noticed.” The Mistress instructed as she made her way over to Jaconis. She lightly traced his cheek with one of her black leather gloved hands. She then lowered her moist lips down to hover just above his, breathing in his fragrance as she lightly placed her lips on his to taste the bitter sweet spice of his flesh. Then the mistress slowly raised her head, locking her deep brown eyes on Jaconis’ lips as she did so.

“Mistress, is there anything else that I can do for You?” Skara asked, her lithe body still pulled taught across Jaconis’. From her vantage point Skara was able to tell that her mistress wore very little beneath her tattered cloak. Her Mistress’ jasmine perfume mingled too well with her own to create a musky scent that filled Skara’s nose and sent a thrill of desire running along her spine. Skara felt the familiar burning on her inner thighs as she gazed into her Mistress’ brown eyes before her Mistress turned her attention back to her from Jaconis.

Leaning closer to Skara, the Mistress reached over and lightly caressed the outside of Skara’s chest. “Aye,” she said licking her lips lightly as she took in Skara’s delicate pose over Jaconis sleeping form, “there is something more you can do for me.” The light of the moon played along the threesome as the Mistress removed her cloak.

Skara looked up at her mistress as the moonlight played through her long brown hair turning it into an almost inky black. “How may I aid You?” Skara’s voice was little more than a whisper.

“You can start by getting up and gather some soot from below.” She smiled as Skara’s features fell betraying her deepest desires. “Once you have done that come back up here. I need to look like I survived the fire and may have even been attacked.” The Mistress instructed before messing up her hair and discarding her gloves. “We need to have the effect finished before he awakes. I’ll not have anything go wrong.” Skara nodded and fled to gather the soot as her Mistress said this, eager to do anything that her Mistress commanded.