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[NOTE: Unfortunately this story was brought down by hasty editing, so in order that it's not left malformed, I have re-edited it. This was not just a proof-read, but there isn't anything new to those few who have already read it. Enjoy.] Lady Serpentine by Tegeli PART I - Refugee of Fire CHAPTER 1 The inland sea lapped against the galley hull, no louder than the man's last wheeze. I removed my dagger from the gushing chest and stood upright to make sure nobody had noticed the brief scuffle. Only a distant peal of laughter disturbed the night. True to their word, the harbour guards had given us privacy, even if they had expected a different type of stabbing. None of them had bothered to question a woman, who offered herself for meagre copper. Impoverished wenches were spoils of victory. Admittedly, the darkness and freely flowing beer had done much to enable my deception. The puffy sleeves of the gown hid my shoulders, letting my long hair and willowy frame create a passable impression of clumsy femininity. Nobody expected a daughter of a desperate local to speak much when out to sell her flesh. Thus my voice hadn't betrayed me either. The lowly Tamsi soldiers weren't the only ones carousing. Lights still shone in the castle windows. Up there, the highborn of my people, the cream of the formerly majestic clans, celebrated their treason with their Vonir masters. They were weak. I wouldn't be. The lake fleet rested in the harbour around me. Not for long. Gentle gusts already heralded the rainless wind, which we had called to fan the coming flames. I poured the bottle of burned wine on the planks and struck a spark with my will. The liquid took fire, but it wasn't enough to burn a whole ship, let alone many, in timely manner. My deed required strength. I deepened my breath into bellows to stoke my wrath. It came easy. The clans had united to oppose the tightening grip of the Fulgurite Prince. But when the time had come to fight, the craven knights had given up. As thanks for the swift surrender, the Prince had allowed the clans of Ekra to keep their lands. Elsewhere, the Ekrans would be tamed with the whip of laws and ban on any rites, which offended Tamsi sensibilities. Forgoing proper worship, our nobility feasted and dishonoured us all. In a shrill voice, I sang of the birth of Fire. How it had sparked, deep inside the unformed void, from where it had spread inside everything, to wait a sudden and violent unleashing. How mighty and free was the Fire, always untamed in the end. Stoked by the memory of its divine mother, the fire at my feet burned red and magnificent. With a grim stave, I evoked the ruined god of hearth, furnace and the flames of war. Luiheki the good Servant, the grand Traitor, the fell Master. The nascent conflagration fed on my hatred and spread over the ship. It caught my clothes, but the heat barely burned me: Luiheki had already claimed me as his own. Below me came the familiar sensation of igniting gunpowder. The fools had left their store onboard. The explosion crushed through my flesh and bone. Cold darkness devoured me. Every part of me screamed in agony, as if the water itself around me was pain. No mortal could have survived the blast, let alone remain conscious. But there I was, sinking. I tried to swim, but my body refused to obey. The lake had trapped me. I gasped my lungs full of burning liquid. This was the glorious death I had craved, yet my mind was subsumed by the animal struggling to survive. "I can help you," a voice both lethal and motherly crooned. The pain faded, though my limbs still didn't move. "Who?" I spoke in my mind. Squamous coils, thick as grand masts, filled the lightless water. Thousands of fiery eyes opened to judge me. "I am Umu, meek mortal child. I am a meagre spirit of the primordial waters, nothing more." "Please--" I cut my grovelling. "What do you want?" "Your soul is gauze: your essence offers little resistance, even to spirits baser than myself. Let me in, and I will grant you escape." Escape. That I needed. Escape from the water. Escape from the Tamsi yoke. Escape from being Ryymi the Ekran. Escape from my intolerable weakness. I did not have to voice my agreement. My inner nature contorted, as the fire of Umu twined around my soul. A cough wracked through my lungs, and filled my mouth with bile and water. I turned my head downwards to expel the liquid, until I could gasp for air. "Ryymi!" Strong hands held my arms. I turned to look at Sulme. The hefty muscles of his bare body glistened in the light of distant fire. "Oh... I feared the lake had claimed you," the Nilkoan said. "Are you alright?" My throat hurt too much to answer. I tested my limbs and found them functional. Yet my muscles were weak, as I forced myself around to look into the blaze. Bitterness formed a lump in my throat. There certainly was flames in the harbour. However, the fire had engulfed only a few of the lesser vessels, in addition to the ship, which I had personally burned. "Thank Okkamo, you are alright," Sulme said. "What were you thinking, remaining in the ship like that?" Death. But I had been too weak-willed to embrace its serene mercy. Like I had been at Surtalm. "Let us go," I croaked. I ached to the bones. While Sulme set the sail of our boat, I huddled to rest. They would get me and skin me like a beast. I sprung up to sit. Though I had barely shut my eyes, the dawn was already far along. Sulme sat at the aft, and the sail billowed full. The farmland around the capital had changed into unfamiliar forested shores. "Good morning," the Nilkoan said. He was still shirtless, letting the pale spring sun paint his brawny torso undeterred. The tan did hide his distinctive greenish pallor, but it made him appear suitable to the haft of a plough. "Good--" I grimaced. Speaking hurt my throat. Rest of my body was also sore, though the throbbing ache concentrated in my jaw and joints. I got out of the scorched rags, which remained from my gown, and examined myself. Though I had no visible injuries, the fire had burned off my body hair. Fortunately the tawny locks on my scalp were still mostly there. Without the unsightly sparse pelt, my chest appeared awkwardly soft. I frowned to myself and opened the trunk that served as the middle bench. Soon my frame was hidden inside a jet-black gown, a twin of the one I had lost. The garment was simple enough to pass as that of a wealthy peasant, despite the smooth fabric and deep dyework. "You could wear your normal clothes on the boat, you know," Sulme said. I took a comb and sat at the front to untangle the mess that was my hair. Perhaps Sulme would take the hint and groom his light flaxen hair or at least trim his short honey-coloured beard. "It is better that I maintain a disguise." My voice came out as a strained wheeze. "My absence at the feast was surely noticed, and I never hid my opinions of the 'peace treaty'. Besides, who else to blame for an arson than a tainted serpentist?" Sulme frowned, an expression unsuitable on his gentle long face with its large damp eyes. "Won't they look for a woman?" "Only a few soldiers saw me. If they survived, they would never dare to admit to drinking and whoring while on guard-duty. They will echo whatever rumours they hear." The Nilkoan nodded, but his expression didn't agree. After I was done with the comb, I put on my wide-brimmed hat to shield my skin from the sun. Without anything to occupy my hands, my mind wandered to the utter failure of the previous night. A hiss of frustration escaped my lips. If the Tamsi fleet had been crippled, Ekra would have had enough respite to gather its strength. Now, the Prince of Vonir had an excuse to oppress us with renewed fervour. I closed my eyes to keep the moisture inside. "We need to lay low for a while." Sulme's voice brought me out of self- pity. He had his usual faint smile. "However, sooner than later, they should figure that nobody survived that blast. Not even a serpentist. In fact, how did you manage it? Not that I complain." Presumably Umu had repaired my flesh. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the deeper mirage, only to yelp from fright. My inner sight was blocked by the coils of fire. "Umu?" I asked in my mind. She did not answer or even open Her eyes. I dismissed the vision. Sulme looked at me expectantly. I sighed. He deserved to know the truth. "I made a deal with a chthonic spirit," I said. "She now rides my soul." The Nilkoan's expression grew puzzled yet remained oddly calm, even though I had declared the doom of my spirit. "It was either that or death." I breathed in deep. "I should have chosen the latter." Sulme flinched. "Don't say so." He forced his smile back. "Maybe you can claim Her strength as yours." After a guffaw, I stifled my laughter. The Nilkoan didn't deserve my derision. "Perhaps," I said. "Though I highly doubt it. In any case, it will take Her time to conquer me. I have some fight left." CHAPTER 2 The spruce-covered hills slipped past us, as our boat glided over the shining lakes. The terrain was a maze of islands, twisting bays and long spits of land. A perfect country to get lost in. We headed towards the general direction of the March of Isso, where the grip of the Tamsi held loosely. The Issoans were a stubborn people and hardy out of the necessity. The old ways were still the proper ones to them. Most importantly, they were lake-people with weapons, boats and simple grievances. I had done nothing but hold the steering oar during the day. Yet I was dead tired by the time we stopped and pulled the boat ashore to make camp. Sleep wouldn't claim me. The aches of my joints only intensified, until I gnashed my hurting teeth. Every muscle in my body cramped, and I let out a groan of gritted exasperation. Sulme clambered up in the dark. "What's going on?" I wanted to tell him 'nothing', but instead of words, I only managed to push out tears. The shadowed figure of the Nilkoan examined me. "I'll mix something for the pain." To my humiliation, my hands shook too much to take the cup. Sulme had to help me drink the blend of herbs and burned wine. After a few cups, I was dizzy enough to pass out into blissful oblivion. I had never been prone to seasickness, especially on a tiny lakeboat. That morning I could do little else than hang over the side. Profusely I apologised to the water folk for the mess I kept making. At noon, my sickness abated, and I could eat breakfast. Most of the pain had faded, but the thought of having to go through another night of it made me shudder. Sulme kept staring at me with a look full of paternal concern. "What has caught your eye?" I failed to keep the irritation out of my voice. The Nilkoan shifted as if waking from some personal reverie. "Oh. I was just thinking. Why would your spirit hurt you so? That must be what last night was." I frowned. "Spirits often alter the physical shape of those they possess. It helps their essence to connect with that of their host." Sulme swallowed. "What are you turning into then?" "I have no idea. She does not answer me." The aches returned after sundown, and in the morning I was forced to examine my body. There were no drastic changes, though the sickliness made my body seem boyishly feeble. I dismissed it as an illusion, because Umu had no reason to make Her host any weaker than it already was. Through the days of travel, my body wasted away faster than if I had starved. In fact, the increasingly blatant lack of firmness indicated that my diet remained more than serviceable. The direction of my transformation became impossible to ignore. My frame was slimmer, but not entirely due to loss of muscle. Several times a day I had to check my forehead often to see if I had a fever, which might explain the delirium. Too slowly to witness but too fast to slip notice, the limited cushion of my body moved to my lower half. Combined with the shifting bones, my hips had broadened to maidenly if modest width. Above them, instead of the slim but powerful torso, I now had a narrow waist, which appeared frail despite the faintly visible musculature. To compliment my shapely frame, the thews of my sword-arm and shoulders melted like spring snow. The world grew heavier by the day. The feminine softness was most apparent on my chest. There I had lumps, which weren't the mere sign of abundant nutrition. The bosom was small, but remained irksomely tender, as a disquieting promise that they weren't done. Sulme kept his eyes away from me and stopped talking about anything relating to my body whatsoever. I suspected that he avoided touching me, but that was impossible to determine for sure onboard a small boat. All through the waking hours, I fought the frustration stemming from my inability to ignore the pain. Sulme's tenseness only annoyed me further. I had to open up --to let out of the smoke-- before I grew angry with him. "Sulme," I said in the husky womanly voice imposed on me. The man turned to look in my direction, and I continued: "We both understand, what is happening to me. You can stop acting like I was not myself." The Nilkoan's gaze fell. "I'm sorry. It's just that..." He paused. "Maybe we can figure out a ritual to stem the changes." I laughed. "My soul is a frayed mess. Any resistance will shred it into unsalvageable pieces." "But..." "It matters not. After all, these changes serve my disguise. Maybe Umu's aim lies in that." Sulme gnawed the nail of his thumb and gazed over the lake. "I understand the need for subterfuge. But these lands are sparsely inhabited and rustic. The people will assume... things, when they see a man and woman travelling together." "What will they assume? That I am your wife? If you wore something else than those rags, they almost might suspect something to that direction." "These 'rags' are practical. I haven't seen you do much to handle the boat in that frippery!" Sulme drew sharp breath and made a sign at the water to calm the spirits in the lake. Despite my rising ire, I mirrored his gesture to keep the currents favourable. One could never know what took offence to sudden exclamations in the wilds. "Sorry," Sulme said. "I shouldn't have raised my voice. Not to the waters, and not to you. If you think the disguise necessary, then it is." I couldn't be sure that it was necessary, or even a good idea. After all, I was relatively tall, and my shoulders remained wide. The attire of a peasant man would certainly have been the least conspicuous choice. Yet the thought of giving up my disguise was altogether loathsome. I shouldn't look like my life was about poking dirt. "It's Umu, isn't it? She won't let you stop your act." My whole body jerked into a snarl: "The spirit has no control over me! I am no histrionic making a fool of myself for your entertainment." Sulme lifted his hands. "I didn't mean to imply such!" He gave me a faint smile. "I'm sorry. I should help you, not be an annoyance." I winced. It was foolish to let the man's innocent concern get under my skin. In order to salvage the moment, I returned the smile and remained silent. On those unfamiliar waters, Sulme had to stop and consult the currents for guidance. While he concentrated on the deeper mirage, the waters around our boat lay still. I took the opportunity to examine my face on the lake's mirror sheen. I could still recognise my face, even if my jaw was slighter and my nose dainty. Mine was by no means a noticeably girly countenance, but the visage could pass off as that of a mannish woman. Sulme was taking his time beseeching the spirits. I too decided to meditate, even though the only thing I would be able to see was the coils of my owner. A constant itching across my skin hampered my concentration, but soon enough I sunk into the deeper mirage. "We can work together," I spoke inside my mind. "Tell me, what you want from me." She did not answer. Perhaps She couldn't speak to me, or just deigned not to. Umu was turning me into a mockery of the womanly form, yet She did not even acknowledge me. I did my best to calm my anger by reminding myself that the situation was my fault alone. "Hey, Ryymi." I broke out of my thoughts. Sulme stared at me, worried like so often even before the failed arson. "Are you alright?" he asked. "Yes!" I snapped. My face warmed, and I cleared my sore throat. "What did you learn?" Sulme made an shamefaced grin. "That we have gone the wrong way the whole day. We'll have to circle the other way around." I sighed. "It is late. We might as well stop for the night." "That would be my suggestion. In the dark, these islands resemble each other even more so." Though Sulme could withstand the mild chills of the spring, he too preferred warm food. I tended our campfire, while he went on an evening swim, which extended far enough from the shore to appear beyond merely reckless. For Sulme, however, it must have been relaxing. After a while, Sulme walked out of the lake. Anyone would be glad to have a soldier like the Nilkoan as a trusted companion. He had the powerful shoulders, burly arms and the tree trunk thighs of a galley warrior, though his height made him rangy in overall appearance. The Nilkoan smiled at me and held up the two scrawny perches he had caught. "Something fresh to eat for a change." Still naked, Sulme sat on a smooth piece of driftwood next to the fire. I scooped up a handful of ash and stood up. "I will go wash myself." "Alright. I'll keep my eyes away from the lake." A scowl twisted my face. I didn't need privacy from him. But I kept my tongue. It was high time I stopped being so irritable. The water was uncomfortably cold, which worked well to discourage me from examining myself for long. My member lingered to mock my plight. To add to the insult, chill had shrunk it into a feeble nub. The utter lack of pubic hair made the limited size much more conspicuous. Umu must have kept the body hair from growing back, perhaps as means to keep my appearance youthful. For what purpose, I couldn't tell. My disguise didn't involve nudity. When I returned to the campfire, petty spite filled my heart. I too sat at the fire to dry myself. Sulme could stuff his privacy into Numma's maw. He had seen me naked before, and not once had he appeared uneasy about it. We were middle of a primordial forest. The only sign of other people were the distant pillars of smoke from a burned patch of woods. "Is the fish ready?" I asked without looking at my friend. "Soon." Sulme stood up and pulled his trousers on. His movements were awkward enough to make me glance at his direction. Right in front of my eyes, his manhood pushed out of the tight trousers. Sulme wrenched the garment in place, but it didn't hide the bulge filling his codpiece. Against all reason, I found myself mortified. The forlorn shore didn't exactly have many reasons for such displays of virility. Sulme sat, crossed his legs and leaned forward. "Was the water warm enough?" My tongue got caught in my mouth. I shouldn't have faulted Sulme. He was a healthy man in the strength of his youth, which came with certain needs with their natural uncontrolled consequences. I had no reason to be so disturbed. Yet my whole body shivered. "Take this." Sulme handed me a large rag. "Dry yourself, while I get you a blanket from the boat." With quivering hands I did my best to comply. Sulme's return broke me out of my aimless frantic thoughts. He placed the thick blanket on my shoulders, and I wrapped it tightly around myself. The Nilkoan handed me a charred perch. "I'll boil your herb infusion to warm you up, so you won't catch the water's wrath." "I am not cold." I turned to face Sulme and waited him to look me in the eyes. "Why do you keep acting so strange?" The answer was obvious, but the man had to admit the root reason in order to correct his behaviour. "Strange?" Sulme gave me his usual faint smile, but his voice wasn't entirely firm. "How so?" "You know what I mean. Mollycoddling me, like you might a child." "I just don't want you to fall sick. This undertaking would fall to even smaller pieces, if you were to catch a persistent fever." "That is not all." I glared at him. "You also avoid seeing me, while I am undressed, as if I was too feeble to withstand your gaze." "I'm sorry." Sulme sighed and slapped his thigh. "I should be able to control my instincts." "What do you mean?" I asked, despite the clear discomfort in the man's eyes. He tried to smirk like he had regained his composure. "Isn't it obvious? My eyes see the curves of a girl in you, and my spirit reacts accordingly." Forceful drumbeat filled my chest, sending my breath into a unstable quiver. Sulme must have thought me attractive, to an extent. Even though I was still male in the main way, which counted. In my mind flashed an image of those huge arms wrapped around me in gentle embrace. It wouldn't have to go any further than that. For a start at least. "Don't worry..." Sulme leaned back and chuckled. "There's no threat of me forgetting that you are a man." The cold air finally caught me, just as the campfire sputtered into cinder. What a fool I was. CHAPTER 3 The herbs --or the burned wine-- eased the pain of my shifting body. Though I had made salve from honey to calm the crawling itch, I wore mittens to sleep in order not to scratch myself bloody. When the squirming dreams faded, they left behind profound weariness and shreds of confusing terror. My neck was stiff, and the joints of my shoulders and hips still felt recently dislocated. Hundreds of invisible needles prickled the flesh of my chest. Even though the salve had kept my skin from flaking, the surface of my forearms and shins resembled the parched fields of a rainless summer. At least my jaw didn't hurt any more. I could allow myself to hope that Umu had finished with my face. Sulme was awake. He smiled and handed me a steaming cup of my herb infusion. "Good morning. Did you sleep any better?" "No." I took the cup and gulped the contents. The bitter taste was refreshing, and the numbness it caused was welcome. "Sorry about--" "Stop!" I closed my eyes. "Stop apologising, for you are not at fault. You are doing as good as may be expected. Better even." "Well, thank you for the compliment." "It was nothing but the truth." I lifted my chin. "Now, let us depart." Sulme worked the sail, while I sat at the steering oar with songs on my lips to keep the wind behind our back. The surrounding woods were interchangeable depths of gnarly pillars and green-needled branches. Only a ruin of a tower on an islet from the day before showed we weren't lost. "Do you have any relatives here?" I asked. "The folk of these waters recognise our kinship, however remote." Sulme smiled. "Even then, they are generous to tolerate my incessant pleas for guidance. These waters hide ancient grievances best left covered." He let out a weary sigh. My failure at the capital and the journey must have started to take its toll on him. Still the Nilkoan continued to put up with my childish petulance and weakness of will. My voice wavered, as I said: "Thank you for coming with me." Sulme's smile returned, this time lopsided. "Don't think too much of it. After all, you needed someone to sail the boat." A pang in my chest cleared my head. Slanted rusty red sails appeared behind trees in the distance. "Look!" I yelped. "A ship! Sulme turned around. "Way larger than the average trader. Looks like a war galley. Could it be the Vonir?" "I don--" A quivering ache coursed through my torso, and mighty coils flashed in my view. "Umu?" My whole body stiffened, as if preparing for unseen danger. "Ryymi?" Sulme asked. "My rider seems to think that ship poses a threat to us," I said. "We need to turn around." "In this wind, we won't be able to outrun it, even if they don't row." "But they will recognise me!" Sulme's smile wavered. "No they won't. Just stay calm. I will do the talking." As the galley turned towards us, it lowered its sails and spread out its wings of oars. An audacious rowing song blared over the lake. I took my gun and sat back at the aft. There was no time to load even a witchlock pistol, but I kept the gracefully slender weapon concealed next to me, along with bullets and my powder horn. "Don't pull the hat on your face," Sulme said. "We shouldn't look like we are trying to hide ourselves." The rowers stopped the galley, and a familiar man at the brow hailed us. Lord Mulkava was robust and tall, and fittingly as hairy as a bear. His coat had vile Tamsi sigils all over it, despite his fully Ekran ancestry. "Guide us closer," Sulme told me. I filled my lungs full and moved the oar. Sulme worked the sails, so we came at stop close to the galley. Though unarmed and unarmoured, the crew of the ship had the rugged look of soldiers. "Greetings!" Mulkava bellowed. "And a godly day!" "Good day, shipmaster." Sulme came to sit with me at the aft. In order to strengthen the ruse, I took his hand. His callused palm was warm and sweaty, as he squeezed back. "I am lord Mulkava of Saats. We are men sworn to the Fulgurite Prince, looking for a dangerous witch. He is a renegade noble and a serpentist, formerly an officer in the army of the Prince of Vonir. Have you chanced to see any unusual heavily armed men on these waters?" "We might have, my lord," Sulme said. "But these lakes aren't abandoned, and even a prince could pass without notice. I can't say we are able to help you in your search." "Very well. If you chance to meet this lordling Ryymi, stay away. He is suspected to be fully consumed by the serpentine corruption." Mulkava brushed his beard. "May I inquire, out of friendly curiosity, what are you doing in this desolate land? Your manner of speech doesn't appear local." Sulme smiled wide. "Oh, we are out to use the better part of our dowry to buy furs and Nangoan goods for reselling back at the inland sea." He placed a hand on my abdomen. A cold wave coursed through me, but I managed not to flinch. The Nilkoan continued on nonchalantly: "So we can start a family with proper funds." My spine stiffened enough to serve as a ramrod, and air fluttered out of my nose until my lungs were empty without me daring to breath in again. The Tamsi lord shook his head. "You should settle for your lot, instead of risking your lives and possibly even souls here. These are untamed heathen lands, despite the best efforts of the Vonir." "That may be true, but we aim to be careful." Sulme stood and went to work on the sails. "Blessings, my lord, and good hunt!" "Thank you!" Mulkava bellowed. "And blessings of the kindly gods to you! May your prospects and wife bloom to their fullest." My heart raced, even though the galley was far gone from the view, and the fear of discovery had disappeared. When Sulme had held my hand, what had affected me so hadn't been mere surprise or indignity. "We made it," I finally whispered. Sulme smiled. "Perhaps 'your rider' does indeed look out for you." "That was surely out of Her own self-interest." "I guess the effectiveness of your disguise has been proved." The man's eyes lingered below my eyes. My face twisted into a scowl. "Are you pent up enough to actually find me attractive? Maybe we should stop at the next village, where you can relieve yourself on a cottage widow." "Where's this coming from?" "You keep ogling at me." He had only glanced at me a few times, but my trapped frustration sought release. The Nilkoan drew his mouth into a line. "I don't want to upset you." "Well, you failed!" I let out a wavering sigh. "I apologise. Evidently, something pricks my liver." "It's all excused." Sulme made a dismissing gesture with his hand. "Anyhow, as for your question: yes, I do find you comely." I leaned forward. In a perplexing fashion, most of my anger had washed away in a flash flood of burning curiosity. "Reall--" I cleared my throat. "What could you possibly find attractive in me?" "Let's see... You have a... noble-featured face and beautiful locks." I snorted. "Hair and noble features alone rarely cause states of virile readiness." Sulme made an awkward smile. "Alright. Your skin is of a pleasantly pale colour. On a girl, the hue evokes a sense of softness, which a man might want to test." My heart leaped, just as my mind recoiled. "That sentiment is not affected by what is between my legs?" "Ryymi, let's just--" "Answer." I needed my foolish desires shattered, so I could get a grip of myself again. A scowl threatened to replace Sulme's expression. "It should be affected, yes." The truth didn't relieve the pressure in my chest. "However, why does it matter?" Sulme asked. "Are you expecting me to touch you below your girdle?" He shrugged and grinned, now unshakeably cocksure. "Who knows, to fondle a small soft thing like that could be fun." Such presuming talk warmed up my blood from the boiling liquid it had already been. Rage shuddered through my flesh. "Come sit here," I spoke between my teeth. "Ryymi... I'm sorry. I shouldn--" I repeated my command. Sulme let out a dejected sigh and came to sit on the other side of the steering oar. "You deserve a reward for your services to me," I said. "You may squeeze me like you would want to do to a girl. Perhaps you shall find it 'fun' indeed." Sulme's gaze dropped. "If my thoughtless words made you uncomfortable, I am sorry." He tried to disarm my anger with kind smile. "Besides, I wouldn't want to grope a girl I haven't even kissed." I lifted my chin. "Then let us kiss. Or is my noble-featured mouth not to your liking?" The man stared at me. Determination lit in the grey-blue depths of his gaze. As he leaned forward, I closed my eyes. His hand touched my neck and guided my head. Our lips met. My anger faltered, leaving behind bitter ashes. I stifled my sobs, but not before Sulme drew back. "Are you alright?" he asked. "No. Not at all." I swallowed. "You do not deserve to be treated like this." "It's fine." Sulme smiled in his mellow way. "You haven't forced me through anything objectionable." I took a deep breath to calm my nerves and returned his smile. Sulme leaned an inch forward. My body tensed from toes to neck, and I blurted: "The sail needs attention." Sulme glanced towards the bow. "Oh. It indeed does." His long legs took him away from me to the middle of the boat in one step. Inside myself, I sighed from relief. My flimsy self-control had been at its brink. I couldn't bury the sinking sense of disappointment. Both the day and the waters slipped by with neither of us uttering a word more than was necessary. Sulme kept staring at me with a new amusement in his smile. Part of me was concerned that I had lost the Nilkoan's respect for good. I was too tired to stoke my fury. In truth, his gaze hardly annoyed me, though it did stir the turmoil in my thoughts. Sulme's smile widened. "I'll miss that cute pout, should you regain your former appearance." I gasped my lungs full and glared at the Nilkoan. His jovial expression didn't fade, forcing me into a moment of reconsideration. Sulme hadn't mean to demean me by calling me 'cute'. "There is little chance of me losing my 'pout'." I sighed. "Even if it was possible to get rid of Umu, She will not reverse the changes She has caused." "Sorry. I didn't mean to imply that I'm glad you are that way." I kept the pang in my chest from my expression. "You are not?" "No." Sulme glanced away, and his smile grew strangely contemplative. "Unless, of course, you yourself desired to remain as you are." My insides tingled either from regret or from glee. Sulme's considerate words would carry me onward, until death caught up with me. Neither of us spoke. The silence was less uncomfortable than any words. CHAPTER 4 Rain tapped on the sailcloth, which Sulme had fixed as our cover. To keep from getting wet, we lay on the raised boards at the front of the boat. It was tight fit, but I welcomed the additional warmth from the man's proximity. Summer was still a distant dream. Thunder beat Her hunting drum, and Her twin the Lightning surged across the sable veil of the sky. The storm was uncommonly furious for the season. "Have the Tamsi called the sky itself to track us?" I asked, with brittle jest in my voice. "They wouldn't dare. Besides, two dim-natured mortals such as us pass under the sight of the kindly gods." "True. My old friend Mulkava troubles me more." A shiver crept up my spine. "I thought he would recognise me for sure." Sulme chuckled. "There's little risk of that. Umu has obfuscated your soul along with your body. In flesh you appear to be a pretty young woman, and in the deeper mirage, you don't seem more than a weak-willed dullard." "Oh, a pretty dullard. Is that why you suddenly find me fetching?" "No. I know you better than to be fooled." For a moment I had sunk into my fancy, until the man had to remind me again of who I was. "You know," I spoke between my teeth. "I find myself mad at yo-- at my own emotions." "Talking about those feelings might ease them." The calmness of Sulme's voice emphasised, how petty I was. A growl reverberated in the back of my throat. "Alright! Might as well. I find my current state, in spite of its feebleness, much too comfortable. " In fact, at times I had been strangely at ease, as if the worm gnawing at my soul was gone, instead of the other way around. "You mean..." "Yes!" I snapped, even though I couldn't have known what the Nilkoan had thought. We remained silent together, while the storm raged through the heavens. "You are, who you are," Sulme said. "Who can see inside the spirit and tell its true form? Maybe you... Maybe Umu's influence is bringing out your own inner nature." "This my inner nature... I'd be an abom--" I caught the word in my mouth and swallowed its hateful taste. "Many have thought me one," Sulme said. "I'm fortunate that it didn't stop you from wanting to kiss me." At worst he was fascinatingly atypical. As a man, he was everything one needed to be. Me, on the other hand... My mouth wavered. I couldn't speak. Instead, I pushed against the powerful torso of the sailor-soldier. He was a stark rock for me to cling on to. A heavy arm wrapped around me. To my credit, I let out no pitiful sounds, even if tears warmed my cheeks. "Aren't the herbs helping?" Sulme asked. "For the pain, I mean." The overwhelming self-pity cleared, and I brought myself back into awareness of my body. I ached all over, but it was far from the agony of the previous nights. "Odd," I said. "My joints hurt barely at all." "Then I'm glad." Sulme's large hand brushed my spine. The skin of there crawled. "My frame must be mostly finished," I said. "Is that good or bad?" Sulme's tightening embrace explained his own opinion clearly enough. "Possibly both." I slowed my breathing to make sure I remained calm. "Were I not able to trust you with my life, I would be terribly afraid." Sulme kissed my forehead, taking a liberty, of which I wasn't going to complain about at the moment. "If it helps, I'm not entirely reassured either," he said. "When I saw the emerging change after the fire, I decided to steel my mind, so we could avoid this awkwardness. Just so you know, I failed." I snorted. "I am awed by your strained admission of affection." The man laughed and pressed my back to pull me against him. His faint manly smell was mixed with the fresh scent of the lake. So close to him, I could truly appreciate his size, which protected me from the foul weather and everything else. I snaked my hand inside his shirt. My fingers didn't sink deep into the boulder that was his torso. The implied strength tensed my tendons. "Are you pent up?" Sulme whispered. "Enough to find me attractive?" I must have pouted, but luckily he couldn't have seen my face in the dark. I moved my hand up to the large thews connected to his shoulder bones. "Do not grow overly proud," I said. "Physically, you have nothing a healthy horse lacks." I turned around and let Sulme hug me from behind. After some wiggling, I curled into a snug position to calm down and let sleep take me. A ray of light irritated my closed eyes. I woke up from a confusing dream of blending flesh. Though my back was a bit stiff, I experienced a refreshing lack of discomfort for the first time in weeks. Sulme was up, mending a frayed edge of the sail. When he was ready, we ate a cold breakfast before pushing the boat back to the lake. The wind mustered only a tired sigh after the night-long storm. Sulme wondered out loud, if we'd have to use the oars. I wasn't quite up to rowing, because the joints of my fingers and toes still ached. I might have grown irritable, if I was forced to exert myself. However, the sail still swelled, and we could enjoy the sight of the wooded hills and endless lakes without much effort. "That's the old Kauku fort." Sulme pointed at a wooden tower and the remains of a palisade on a barren hill. "We are in Isso." More farmland, ringed with dense thickets of young birch and willow, began to poke between the primordial forests. Most of the human dwellings consisted of dispersed and rough cottages. On their walls, painted sigils warded the inhabitants from the wrath of spirits. The larger villages had risen on top of the low hills, where the houses often created a fortified circle to guard them from the greed of men. The midday sun burned with unseasonal heat, which caused a relaxing lassitude to seize my body. I leaned back and guided the boat through half-closed eyes. "Fog," Sulme said. "How peculiar." In front of us between two islands stood a hazy wall. I shuddered from instinctive fear, before I realised the sizzling sound. "That's not fog!" I pulled the steering oar as strongly as I dared, but the boat was slow to alter its course. As the mist closed in, the sound of boiling water swelled into roar. Sulme turned to me. Terror warped his face. I began to recite staves against the wrath of fire, but it wouldn't be enough. I might withstand the heat, but Sulme wouldn't. "Get down!" I took a blanket and tackled the Nilkoan to the bottom of the boat. The man didn't resist, as I lay on top of him and pulled the blanket to cover us. Air warmed, as if the sauna around us had caught fire. I closed my eyes and sung to keep the worst of the heat outside the blanket and to channel any remaining into me. Sulme joined the desperate song, even if he stumbled over the words. The skin of my back was scorched. My voice turned into a whine, yet did not entirely falter. Before pain could overwhelm me, the boiling wrath dwindled. I caught my wavering breath and pulled the blanket from us. The spirit of underwater fire had swum past. Below me Sulme was alright if a bit stupefied. It would have been a shame, if such an amiable face had been cooked into a death mask. I darted my head to give him a tiny kiss. Before he could react, I clambered from top of him and rushed to the aft. "Fix the sail!" I shouted. "We need to get going, before that giant turns around." Sulme recovered from his stupor and pulled the sail taut again. Our boat jerked forward with the swirling air currents. I glanced behind us, but the wall of steam didn't change direction. We were safe for the moment. My back stung to the point of itching agony, but I kept the discomfort out of my mien. Sulme shouldn't think that I had been more than inconvenienced. He might end up assuming he owed me. The lofty towers of Attisa clustered like black fungi, with the fiery Sun lingering behind them. In the water between the sprawling piers, the masts of sunken ships formed a leafless forest. Most of the vessels in dock weren't under the water however. The harbour was almost as busy as that of the capital, even if none of the ships were tall sea traders. Fortunately for us, Mulkava's galley was nowhere to be seen. Among the handsome townhouses of the waterfront, a few imposing stone structures lingered from an earlier age. The bleak, if well-preserved, architecture didn't invite human habitation. Under the callous gaze of the immemorial towers, lakefolk and mongers of all sorts crowded the harbour market. We dropped the anchor in middle of the lake to prepare our equipment in peace. "What's the plan?" Sulme asked. "We will lay low and take the feel of the land, until I find the leverage necessary to push the Issoans back into the fight." I took my witchlock pistol and began to clean it. Sulme frowned. "Weapons are sure to attract attention." "Yes, but attention in itself is not lethal. Being under-armed tends to be." The Nilkoan sighed, but didn't argue further. He attached his long knife to his belt, along with his bow case and thin dagger. Despite so much strapped on him, the tall man did not seem encumbered. After loading the pistol, I placed it in its embroidered holster. With the tingling excitement of meeting an old friend, I unravelled my Klakki from the roll of sailcloth. "Are you really going to carry a sword of war to town?" Sulme asked. I smirked. "Of course." I took Klakki out of its scabbard and admired the smoky steel. Fell blessings of Luiheki himself had allowed the blade be forged elegantly narrow without compromising its rigidity or risking brittleness. My sword was long, perhaps too long, enough to reach my waist from the ground. Yet wielded in two hands, even my diminished muscles handled its weight. Sulme watched, as I did a swift test of sword-grips. He said: "Such a weapon is rather incongruous on a lady." With tiny motions of my hands, I shifted Klakki's piercing tip to under Sulme's jaw. "This 'lady' is a bit different from the rest." Sulme's smiled and grabbed my blade. He held it strong enough not to cut his hand, as he moved Klakki aside. I was careful not to slice his palm, as I retrieved Klakki back to me and returned the weapon in its scabbard. The edge might not have been particularly sharp, but iron had its hunger. As we dragged the boat into the sands below the crumpled stone pier, a tall woman in an abundant gown with a floppy hat hurried to us. She had vivid orange eyes, likely from Nangoan heritage. In her hand was a clerk's symbol of office: a well-worn wax tablet. "Good evening!" she shouted. "On the behalf of the Harbour Guild of Attisa, be most welcome. Now, you two don't seem local." "No," I agreed. "Would you like to pay your fee for resting you boat here?" the clerk asked. "What does that entail?" Sulme lifted the trunk holding his armour. "The boat seems secure enough as it is." "Oh, we make sure nobody appropriates your sail, drills a hole in the bottom of your boat and pushes it into the lake." I scowled. "How much?" "A good portrait of the good Prince in good silver." Sulme handed the coin to the clerk. After a long look at the silver, she smiled at the Nilkoan and curtsied. "Thank you." I nodded at the sunken boats and ships. "Is that your doing?" The clerk shook her head. "They have been there since the old city fell. Their wood does not rot, and anyone who tries to dive for salvage never resurfaces." "Does the harbour have a good place to stay for the night?" Sulme asked. "If you have no kith or kin here, then there's always the old temple, which houses pilgrims for a donation." The clerk pointed towards a round many-storied house with a tall pointy roof. "This time of the year the establishment is vacant enough to offer reasonable prices. But don't expect any food beyond boiled beans, eggs and cheese." "What about the drink?" I asked. "Do they serve anything worth quaffing?" "The beer is great at the temple, but not worth the price. Save your money, and buy liquor from the market, I say." CHAPTER 5 Against my expectations, the temple gave us a whole room to ourselves, instead of a pallet in the common hall. Though the one bed almost filled the cramped room, the floor and sheets were clean. We even had a tiny window, though the thick glass only revealed a view over the muddy outskirts. In the distance was a hill with a stone manor, presumably the residence of the local freelord, when he wasn't at the capital. A small girl brought us a bucket of fresh water half as large as her. Sulme paid in greenish copper, closed the door and placed a bell on the latch, so any tampering would alert us. He removed his gear and went through the room, searching for anything that might be a peephole, and stuffed more tiny bells into them. "Let me see your back," the Nilkoan said after he was finished. "Why?" "You try to keep your weight from it, so I'll take a look, how badly it was burned. Hopefully your salve hasn't boiled useless." I frowned but sat on the bed. My skin did hurt, but no more than from a heavy sunburn. On the Prince's endless war marches, my hide had endured its share of the unkind daylight. Sulme took the salve and sat behind me. I unbuttoned the gown and pulled it off my torso. Gently, the man pushed me a bit forward, forcing me to become aware of the small weight of my hanging teats. Sulme sang a simple song against fire's wrath, while he spread the concoction. At first the salve bit like ice, but soon my skin numbed. "There," he said. "Keep your back uncovered for a while." "Thank you," I muttered. "No, thank you, Ryymi. You saved my life." "Of course," I scoffed. "I could, so I did." A hand brushed my shoulder, making me shiver. "Would you still take offence, if I called you beautiful?" the man murmured. I turned to glare at the Nilkoan. He had an infuriating lopsided unsure smile on his face. I pushed him against the wall and mounted his lap. "Do you truly enjoy ogling me?" I seethed. "That's fine. Take your fill. But what about me? A few weeks ago, if I had admitted, how I found you more pleasing than as a mere friend, would you have wanted to embrace me? Would you have been willing to kiss my lips?" Sulme looked aside. "Exactly!" I lifted the soft flesh of my bosom in a gesture, which I hoped would look as obscene as I felt. "How can I trust any affection, if it hangs on carnal appendages such as these?" Sulme looked me in the eyes and took my hand. "I'm not enough of a poet to explain such matters as love." The man placed his free hand on my thigh. I shivered. It was no pommel of his knife, which pressed on my thigh. The Nilkoan spoke of love, yet meant his lust. I would have punched him --or at least the wall beside his head-- if it hadn't proved my lack of restraint. Instead, I leaned forward to press my lips on his, with all my weight to make sure he got enough. Those bowman's fingers of his tangled in my hair. Our shared breath grew heavy like the grunting of halfwitted beasts. I pushed him down and sat straight. "Is this, what you desire? The motions of lovemaking, while I keep my lower half covered, so the illusion is not broken?" Sulme frowned. His hand piled the hem of my gown, until it could snake under the fabric. I shuddered, when his fingers brushed my bare thigh, but I did not avert my gaze from his eyes. "I'd like to help you relax and enjoy yourself." Sulme spoke softly like a knight might to his horse. "But you sure make it hard to figure out how. So I'll have to guess. Stop me, if you want." His rough hand touched my member, which had managed to grow but not to harden. Though I had tried to brace myself, a sighed moan escaped my lips. The man did not wait, but engulfed a most vulnerable part of me. It degraded a male to be thus fondled. Like the rest of my body, the remains of my manhood were pliant and soft. Like me, it failed to hate its weakness inside the safety of a strong embrace. I closed my eyes to escape from at least one part of my existence. The man should have crushed me in his grip to demonstrate the consequences of such feebleness as mine. Yet his touch was tender and agreeable. My body melted to mush, and I had to lean on the man. He kissed my neck. I answered with a hissing whine. It was a curse, to be created as a man and then to enjoy one's own meekness under firm attention. I had ridden a warhorse and grinned, as I breathed brimstone and the fumes of blood. Before Surtalm, nobody with sense had doubted my bravery or strength, those two aspects which made the good part of manliness. But now I was pleasured by a man, with my sensitive breasts pressed against his powerful chest. It had to be intolerable, yet I lacked the strength to resist. If the man had been anyone else but Sulme, I would have screamed, fought, ran and hidden. Anyone else would have rightly mocked me for revelling in such a lack of potency. He was the only mortal in the unforgiving world, who I had trusted after the flames of Surtalm. The hand kneaded and squeezed, coaxing me towards an incongruous climax. "St-stop!" I whined. The hand withdrew immediately. I clambered off Sulme and hurried to the corner of the room. Footsteps followed me. "I'm sorry. I shouldn--" "No, you don't get it." I pushed my gown off me and kicked it away. "Here the mess is easier to clean up after. Please..." The words almost got stuck in my throat. "Continue." I leaned on the wall, presenting my backside to the man. I had to slow down my breath in order to keep my weightless head from spinning into the sky. Sulme walked behind me. His hands landed on my waist and descended to my hips. Agonisingly slowly, he reached around me to my quivering need. "Does this feel good?" The man rubbed me like a clueless burgher might try to milk a cow: all too gentle from the fear of reprisal. "Just shut up," I hissed. "And do your work slower yet with more ardour." Sulme's frame pushed against me. Though there was his long shirt between us, the rigidity of his member touched my flesh. He could have forced himself into me, and I would have been unable to resist. In body, and likely in will. Yet, despite his apparent lust, he only did what I asked. I had already been at the brink. Soon my wand twitched in the forceful grasp. My breath quivered from satisfaction, as the man made sure to coax every drop out of me. I braced myself for a wave of shame. "Did I do it right?" There was only kind tones of concern in his voice. No derision. I didn't answer. Instead, I turned around and clasped the man's head to kiss him. Sulme's arms hesitated, presumably not wanting to touch my salved back with whatever was in his hand. After pulling back, I said: "I must repay you." "You don't hav--" "Stay silent." I lifted his shirt above his crotch to find a cavalry sword: heavy, curved and eager for the charge. Guided by my push, Sulme moved backwards to the bed. "Lie down," I commanded. Like the good soldier he was, Sulme obeyed. I knelt between his legs. His rod was stocky despite its moderate length, with a loose hood. Just as I had expected and hoped, it was pleasantly large and warm inside my hand. I showed the man a pursed smile and pushed my shoulders together to emphasise my hanging assets. The unsure frown had returned on his face, but his member twitched in anticipation. "Now..." I bit my lip. "I could rub you until your purposeless lust is abated. But that you could do yourself. I have heard that some women play manhoods like flutes even without pay. I cannot comprehend the appeal, but I will try to find out." Fortunately, the man did not offer his useless interjections. I leaned down, and before doubt could overwhelm me, took the moist head between my lips. A tentative test with my tongue showed that the taste wasn't pleasant, but neither was it overwhelming. I squeezed the shaft and blew inside the hood. Sulme grunted. Clearly the hidden tip was sensitive. With beastly joy, I pulled the cover off those vulnerable glans. On my way down, the girth of the member forced me to stretch my jaw open in order not to scrape the tender meat with my teeth. My tongue moved around the head, and the man did his best not to squirm. I could barely contain my mirth. He shouldn't have acted so delicate, unless he was woefully inexperienced. I let the cock out of my mouth and asked: "Have you never had this done before?" Sulme lifted his head and drew his mouth into a straight line. "With whom I might have?" "Company is always for sale, especially anywhere soldiers are." The Nilkoan dismissed the thought with a grunt. "That's a good way to catch the pox." "Oh, chaste are we," I teased. "No, just prag--" His jabbering was pointless, so I crushed his rod in my fist to silence him and resumed my oral administrations. I had small idea of what I was doing, but eventually he pulsed in my grip. A pleasant thrill shivered coursed through me; I had satisfied a virile man. If he hadn't lied about his inexperience, I had claimed him first. "Look out," Sulme said. I rolled my eyes, just the sudden burst made me gag. Though the deed required concentrated willpower, I managed to swallow. After a moment, I got used to the aftertaste. The slime wasn't overly off-putting, but any appeal it had was in the context and not in the substance itself. Though this hadn't been a proper ritual of reproduction, a sliver of his masculine force of creation entered me, like it would have into a woman. While I thoroughly sucked him clean, the man twitched indecisively still. "Inmo's mercy," he cursed under his breath. I smiled to myself and crawled to lay on the man. My wet nub pressed against his lower abdomen. He didn't appear to mind. Still careful of my back, Sulme wrapped his arms across me to hold my buttocks. "That was great," he whispered into my ear. "Of course." It was nice to have the large slab of a man below me. However, my position wasn't suitable for relaxation. I slid down to Sulme's side, and he shifted his arm to below my head. "Did that help you forget that I was a man?" I whispered. "You are a girl, then." I frowned to myself. Little glory was there for womenfolk in their toil and hardships. Even during the best of times they were at the mercy of men. But Sulme would never denigrate or hurt me. With him, I wouldn't have to give up anything of myself. I cooed: "Are you happy now that you have tamed me?" Sulme let out a small warm laugh. "I doubt that is what this is. Though perhaps you can now reserve your vitriol, until I better deserve it." I traced the lines of his abdomen with a finger and lifted my leg on his. "Will you be mine from now on?" The man brushed my thigh. "I already was." Sulme kissed me, but quickly flinched back. His face was twisted wry. "That taste must be mine." I grinned. "It is not quite that awful." "Still, it's not something I wish--" Sulme glanced down on my body. "Unless you want me to." "No--" I reconsidered for a moment, but shook my head "No. I don't want my man to do that. Who knows, how my inner forces are aligned at the moment? Besides, I fear you would accidentally bite off the worm." Sulme reached to my groin. With my wand between his fingers, he cupped my testes. I showed my enjoyment by nuzzling against the man. "I'm sorry," Sulme said. "Do not star--" "If I had known, how much you'd enjoy this, I would suggested it earlier." The man reached to kiss my cheek. "You were rather pretty in your 'disguise', even before these changes." A lump formed in my throat. My mind was a whirl of warmth and bitter cold. I hid my face against the broad chest, and failed to stifle my sob. The man removed his hand. "Sorry, I didn't mean--" "Stop." I breathed in deep and concentrated on his manly scent. "All is fine. I am merely overwhelmed." Sulme pulled me tighter against him. "I love you," he whispered. My heart leaped hard enough to make me wince. "Oh, Sulme... I love you too." PART II - Lady in Flames CHAPTER 6 Morning was old by the time I hauled myself up from the bed. The small fragment of a mirror on the wall caught my gaze. Instead of glancing away, I forced myself to look into it. The woman in the reflection showed no apparent weakness, even if her build tended towards lithe. Sinew crossed her frame from burly thighs up, under the pliant layer into which a man's hands could sink. Those arms weren't doughy sticks, but ample enough to carry and use weapons of war. Not without feminine soft roundness, her belly wasn't the smooth flesh of a languishing maid. My fingers were slender and long, but formed fists, which still remembered the sword, handgun and reins. Satisfaction filled me. I was myself. A large portion of my strength was gone. But in the exchange I had gained a form, in which I found myself at ease. Perhaps it was only the clarity of purpose and imminence of my soul's death, which had cleared my mind. Behind me, Sulme rose from the bed and rubbed his eyes. He smiled at me and recoiled. "Oh no." The Nilkoan hurried to me. "What's wrong?" I started to turn around, but Sulme grabbed my shoulders. I repeated my question. The man remained silent. As I wiggled my back, a part of the skin was slightly stiff as if covered by a layer of scab. "Answer me," I growled. "Look." Sulme nodded at the mirror. I turned so I could see my back in the corner of the eyes. A grey band had appeared over my spine all the way up to the back of my neck. "What is i--" I reached to touch the centre of my back. My fingers brushed scales. I yelped. My breath tightened into a wheeze. I stared at my wavering hands, though their skin remained human. Arms wrapped around my shoulders, as Sulme hugged me from behind. I closed my eyes and drew tranquillity from the man. This wasn't a reason to lose my wits. "I'm sorry," Sulme whispered. "If I had--" "Stop." I spun around in his grasp. "There's nothing we could have done to stop this. I can only hope this does not end with me slithering on my belly." I forced a smirk. "Will you still have me then?" Sulme didn't answer but instead hugged me tighter. I wrapped my arms around him. Though he didn't show it, perhaps he too needed reassurance. My anxiety slipped away like the dreams of moments before. I sighed and drew back. "At least I know now, why my skin itches." I spun on my heels to face the mirror. "My frontside looks quite decent, especially now that you are in the picture." Sulme struggled to smile. He placed his hands on my shoulders. Though he was bigger than me, I was not diminished. "Save for that... that mark, your back has healed well," he said. "Does it still hurt?" "No. Thank you." Sulme traced the curve of my waist with his hands. The touch tingled just in the right way. He leaned over my shoulder and breathed in deep, as if savouring my scent. The unruly beard brushed my delicate skin, emphasising how I wasn't covered in squamous hide. The man's hands came to rest at my hips, with the thumbs supporting the small of my back. I lifted my arms to stretch my whole frame. The scales did not limit my movement, even if they still felt strange. "You are like a walking willow wrapped in layers of warm silk blankets," Sulme murmured. I chortled. "That is certainly a way to describe me. I must return the praise. You are a tall aspen tree, suitable for a good logboat." "The waters we are facing might be too rough for my buoyancy." Sulme took my hand over my shoulder and kissed my neck. "I don't want to give you up now. Can't we stay here, if not forever, a few days more?" "No. Umu will claim my soul. Before that I have work to do." Sulme spun me around and pulled me against his bare frame. He lifted his chin and stared into my eyes. His breath was deep but wavery. His gaze --dark as the bottom of a lake, yet blue-- was ridiculously stern. My lips pursed into a smile. "I love you," he said. "And I will never abandon you." I drew my mouth into a line. "Are you sure, you want to commit to a girl, who might soon be burnt soulless or turn into a worm of the earth?" Sulme's expression mellowed. "You talk, as if I had a choice." "We always have a choice, even if we are poor at using that opportunity. It does not matter. I want you with me. Perhaps you can hold my hand, while I die." I stopped the man's disapproving sigh with a kiss. His hands roamed my backside, and my flesh yearned to let him do, what he wished. Yet, we couldn't linger. I pulled away from the affectionate grasp. "We need to go. But first, I will shave that beard. Prepare the knife, while I put on my undergown." Sulme obeyed my command and didn't resist being pushed to sit on a chair. "Oh, will you make me look like one of the fops at the capital?" he asked. "I might make you look like a prince, if I knew how. Now, stay still." Though the undergown left a clear view into my modest cleavage, the man kept his head admirably straight. A knife at the throat might have helped with obedience, as it often did. The process of tidying his beard did not take long. I had quite some practice on shaving, from when I had tried to figure out a style, which was comfortable. I had ended up shaving it all, which fortunately hadn't been a necessary chore for a while. "We have no scissors, so I am not sure, what to do with this," I said, as I combed his hair. Up close, the pale yellow colour had the tiniest hint of green. In the end, I combed his hair in a boyish style, which fit his kind eyes well, and emphasised how sharp his jaw was. I showed the man the mirror. "How do you like it?" Sulme turned his head to examine his trim beard. "I can't say. If it looks good to you, then it is so." I pouted and mounted his lap. The warmth of his skin made me shudder. I hugged his neck and pressed forward, until only my hem and his trousers were between my crotch and his hardening rod. His chest was two huge slabs of muscle. The man wrapped his thick arms around me. "You madden my blood, even with an untidy beard." I pressed my cheek on his shoulder. "Give me another compliment." "Well, you are skille--" "Stop. I know, what I am good at. Instead of stating the obvious, lavish my physique with wordly admiration." "Women seldom take lightly judgements on their appearance." "I promise not to get angry." "Alright. I'll hold you to that." Sulme remained silent for a long while, which I didn't mind, as I could listen to the deep breath reverberating through his torso. Sulme's hand moved between us and to below my breast. "Your bosom is shapely." "That does not say much." I drew back. "Would you prefer them to be bigger or smaller?" The Nilkoan twisted his face. "Do I have to answer?" "You do." "Alright. Perhaps a bit larger, but not too much to lose their perkiness. Pointy like that, they are kind of... heroic. Very proud, like you." I guffawed. "That one was great. Continue." Sulme smiled in relief and grabbed my upper arm. I became uncomfortably aware, how feeble I was, even though the limb was much too muscular for a female courtier. "You have brawn, yet it's distributed elegantly. The excess shards have been chiselled off the unfinished idol." "Oh." My smile returned, even if I was hard-pressed to comprehend his simile. "Now, don't laugh, but those distinct thews stir a similar craving in me as a good piece of roast." "So you want to eat me?" "Not exactly." He moved his arms behind me and grabbed my butt. "Speaking of good piece of meat, your rear is a big one." My spine stiffened. "How is that supposed to be a compliment?" Sulme made an awkward smile. "Well, it looks great, by how round and firm it is. Especially on an otherwise slim girl like yourself." The man's fingers reached between the buttocks. I closed my eyes and tried to calm my heart. If I wanted it desperately enough, I would have been able to experience having a man inside me. And desire it I did, at the risk of discomfort or even pain, especially if Sulme might enjoy me. I bit my lip. "Would you--" A horn blew outside. I snapped out of my deranged lust and clambered up. "Hurry up and get dressed." In the harbour marketplace, a crowd had formed around a raised platform. "Oh, must be a public chastisement," I said to Sulme. "I wonder, what sort of criminals they have around here." "Maybe we should stay away." "Perhaps," I said. "You go buy the viands, while I take a look." On the platform stood two soldiers wearing large white-green livery badges of the freelord. They tied to a post man in peasant garb, while a nervous scribe-official looked on. "Why is he punished?" I asked a woman next to me. "The fool went and spoke to the freelord's wife with less than a whiff of a permission. As he couldn't pay his fine, the lady showed mercy and has him whipped." "That is preposterous!" I was familiar with laws of immediacy, but they were for court protocol, not to satisfy some rustic noblewoman's conceit. "If you say so, miss. I wouldn't know. The Vonirs say that after the revolt, we subjects should be made learn our places." The crowd was stunningly silent, even though the soldiers barked Vonish to the hapless husbandman. The wife of the local lord was nowhere to be seen, despite the sentence coming from her. She would have a man whipped without caring about the offence enough to watch the proceedings. My body trembled with the need to act. I pushed through the crowd. A soldier with only a pot helmet, padded coat and a halberd stood at the stairs. "Are you Ekran?" I asked. The soldier gave a bored and confused look. He began to answer in Vonish, but noticed my hand moving to Klakki's hilt. He was too slow to react, before the pommel of my sword stuck him square in his face. I pushed past the soldier, pulled my sword fully out of its sheath and climbed the stairs. The crowd bellowed a confused din, as I strode to the platform. "Stop this travesty!" I yelled. My voice might have been womanly, but it did not fail. "No free man deserves the bite of the lash for a word." One of the soldiers walked towards me and said to me in Vonish: "Drop the iron poker, wench, and I'll slap some sense into you." Someone laughed in the crowd. To them I was only a madwoman in hysterics or a buffoon making an unannounced performance. "Stay back!" I took a firmer sword stance. "The men I have killed were all fit to war, unlike the plump knave in front of me." "Oh, you acid-mouthed slut." The soldier grinned and took a step into the range of Klakki. I lunged to prick the man's arrogant cheek. My leg caught in my gown, and I stumbled, forcing my thrust aside. The soldier stepped forward, before I could move Klakki back between us. Instead of tackling me to ground, he grabbed my hair --as if I wasn't a real threat-- and reached for my sword-hand. I twisted myself free, letting the man rip my hair. There wasn't enough room for a proper thrust. I grabbed Klakki's blade with my off-hand and stabbed. The tip of my sword slipped between armour into the man's throat. With a croak, the soldier let go off me. I smashed my sword into his neck and let him slump to the ground. The other soldier stared at me for an heart beat, before reaching for his sword. I pulled out my witchlock pistol and aimed. The spirit inside sensed my fury, before I could even call on it. The serpentine powder roared as loud as a cannon, and the pistol kicked into my hand like one. A half of the man's head spread into crimson spray. I nearly dropped both of my weapons from the pain in my wrist. Shivering, I walked to the scribe-official. "Are you Ekran?" "Y-yes," he stammered and shielded his eyes. "My lady, have mercy." I slapped him. "Now run, before I consider you unsuitable to aid your fellow man." Breathing deep in order not to ignite myself with the fiery energies I had summoned in my heedless rage, I turned to look into the crowd. Two men had died, and the townsfolk did nothing but stare. "Cowards!" I screamed. "Is that what you are, leaving a man of your faith, of your own people, to cruel tyranny?" None dared to answer me. I cut the bindings of the prisoner. He tried to leave, but I pulled him with me to the front of the crowd. "The Tamsi consider us conquered!" The words poured from my mouth, as if fed by a force outside my soul. "Apparently rightly so. We let them whip us for speaking straight to them. Soon enough they shall whip us for standing straight." The man beside me gave me a strange look, but corrected his posture. He might have been a mere peasant, but he had the sturdy build suitable for soldiering. The crowd shifted and murmured with hesitation and a barely contained desire to shout. I lifted my hand in a gesture of piety. "First they demanded that our fathers worship in a tongue, which our ancestors do not understand. Why?" Before anyone could figure that theology was a nuanced issue without simple answers, I continued: "So our forefathers and sacred mothers cannot answer our pleas for help. We must rely on their snivelling priests to intercede with the gods! Oh, do they not grow fat in the service?" Man shouted about lack of fish in the lake, another how frozen ground had postponed the ploughing. The yelled grievances turned into a choir. "Exactly!" I answered them all. "The rites of our land suit it best!" Sulme appeared on the platform, with his long knife in hand. Though he nodded, his expression doubted me. "The Tamsi do not content themselves with merely letting us starve." I pointed with my sword towards the far-away capital. "Plans are already in motion. All common land is to be the lord's to set a price on. The Tamsi nobles will divide all cottages and their peasants as war spoils and tax them into serfdom. Your children will be turned into thralls. They will seize the cloth your wives spin to dress up their own women, while they claim your threadbare daughters for their entertainment. At least until the girl bloats with a Tamsi bastard and the next one's turn comes." Wrath subdued the last shreds of confusion on the faces in the simmering crowd. Their anger fed mine, and mine theirs. "That talk about cowards... I know it to be false. I was at Surtalm! I saw that my folk can march into lead, steel and fire with their heads held high." An old man let out the dour warcry used by Ekran regiments. Others joined to what quickly turned into rhythmic hollering. I waited the shouts to die down, so I wouldn't have to scream from the top of my lungs. "Yes, the Vonir knights ride huge beasts and wrap themselves in strong iron." I moved Klakki, so the blood on the blade would visibly droop. "But underneath, the flesh of a Tamsi is just as soft as any man's. A dozen brave men --of which I see an abundance before me-- with pikes stop even the most arrogant charge!" I lifted my sword high. "We must show that we will never be slaves!" The roaring cheers made my heart gallop and filled my veins with flame. "Men of Isso!" I shouted over the din. "Arm yourselves the best you can, and we will make the freelady regret her brazen injustice." While good part of my audience hurried away, I shivered and gasped, as if from physical fatigue. Sulme walked to me and sent the prisoner going with a sharp look. "What are you doing?" Sulme whispered. "Rousing the rabble, it seems." "Yes, I noticed. That's the opposite of laying low." "The time of hiding has come to pass. I found my leverage" The Nilkoan pressed closer. "Evidently. That's not what worries me. During your speech, your nature flared like a bonfire. Anyone paying attention to deeper mirage will know you are... a far-gone serpentist." "But I am still perfectly in control of myself." I paused. "Am I not?" Sulme's face twisted with worry. "Are you?" "Go put on your armour. I must meditate." Without listening to any counter-arguments, I sat on the platform with Klakki on my lap. A few deep breaths, and I sunk into the deeper mirage. Umu was around me, one of Her blazing eyes open. "Explain yourself," I demanded. "What do you want from me?" If a single eye could smile, Umu's did. "I desire to help you." "You acted during that speech, influence me. I blathered on, yet the crowd was enkindled." "They were dry tinder, receptive from prolonged persecution to your spark. But yes, I helped them find their courage. It was a touch only. A woman fighting off three soldiers chastens any man into action." "It was nothing." In fact it was embarrassing. I only survived because the men hadn't considered me dangerous. "Why are you doing this?" "We share an enemy. Those, who you name 'the Tamsi' and their cursed Prince. I am a spirit of this land. The foreign practices are... counter-intuitive to my essence. I will help you drive them off." I hesitated. No tale spoke of pleasant endings to those who consorted with chthonic entities. The coils of Umu slithered around me. "Was it not exhilarating, their souls drinking you fire? Yet this was but a small mob. You will lead bands of warriors, armies of soldiers. They will kneel before you and crown you their sovereign." "These are as blatant as temptations go, you foul spirit." "'Foul'. That is Tamsi talk, is it not? They shun, what their kindly gods proscribe. They fear the might hidden in the hearts of common men and in the serpentine powder. But all that is irrelevant. What matters is you. If we work together, you will have, what you desire." I should have pushed myself out of the deeper mirage and hurried to commit a rite of purification, to deny this unclean phantom a tool to work on the physical world. "And what is that?" I asked. "What is my desire?" "You need strength to break your shackles. You can be, a what you are, without accepting weakness. You will make the inhuman Prince pay. Once you sit on your throne, you will need a consort. And it will be that tall half-breed, will it not? Together, you can forge a dynasty." "A dynasty? But I am--" "Do not doubt my ability of creation. It will take tiniest bit of effort, but should you wish it, you will be the mother of your people." My mental image of myself shivered. Surely, I couldn't be as feeble- minded to believe the promises of a parasitic spirit. Umu pushed her eye up to my face. "Or I could always take your body by force." "That would only create a mindless beast of fire and my charred flesh." "Yes. It would be fun, for a while." I wouldn't be yoked to someone else's will. But it didn't matter, if Umu's promises were hollow. Her bidding was to fight the Tamsi, which I would do regardless. "First, tell me, what you are. With no lies." Umu rumbled a laugh. "I assume you will not believe me to be a mere worm of the lake bottom. I am a scioness of Numma by your Master the Servant Flame." "How can a spawn of the world serpent be so weak as to possess a human?" The coils shuddered. "Now listen my words with care, mortal girl. I am not weak. I am merely inconvenienced. You should be grateful that it was I, who twined myself around your spirit. A gossamer soul like yours had plenty of less considerate takers." "Alright! I will accept your help. But if you try to take over, know that I can resist you long enough for Sulme to kill my body." Without waiting for an answer, I forced myself back to mundane senses. Sulme stood next to me, already wearing his stained green warcoat, which gave him an appealingly tight waistline. On his head was his visored helmet that had been painted like an adorable dark green frog. I stood, Klakki still in my hand, and reached to hug the Nilkoan, before I noticed the people around us. Among the small crowd was a man holding the reins of two small shaggy horses. "What is this?" I took a rag and cleaned my sword. The man with the horses bowed. "Folk say you are a corporeal spirit, who has come to tell us to correct our rites, before divine judgement befalls us." I frowned, even though the claim might soon enough be close to truth. "Folk should act, instead of exercising their loose tongues." "Just so." The man nodded deep. "They are gathering outside the old gate, waiting for you. That is why I thought to lend you and your companion steeds. In the case you care not to walk, that is." "Thank you, goodman." I looked into the crowd in front of me. If they had been wise, they would have run away from the corrupted serpentist, who could at any moment burst into fellfire. Yet there they remained. Some even appeared to praying to who knew what. I stood stunned wondering how to proceed. The town around me was quiet without sign of riots or looting. That was good. Too hot of an anger burned itself before making a difference. Most of the freelord's men were with him in the capital. The town of Attisa was almost completely Ekran, but there was no knowing, which side the guilds and ranking families would take. I cursed under my breath. I should have sampled the local stew before stirring the pot. There was no going back. I took a deep breath and said: "Let us go to the fine people of this town." CHAPTER 7 Curious gazes filled all windows, and balconies groaned under the weight of my audience. I concentrated on keeping my back straight and chin up. It was the first time I rode sidesaddle in a gown. I made sure to go slowly, not only to avoid the embarrassment from falling off, but also to make myself seem more reassured than I was. The tardiness gave the onlookers time to goad themselves into joining the band growing behind me. A few of the men came forth to question my goals. "The will of the gods," was my answer, though I never elaborated, which deities I meant. In a ravine of tall houses, a horn rang. Lightly armoured men in a mixed formation hurried to block the street. Their heavy halberds and long pikes created a hedge of sharp steel, between which the matches of their handguns glowed ready. If they thought me a feral serpentist, bringing firearms wasn't particularly wise. Their leader held high a gold-studded baton: the symbol of a reeve. "In the name of the Prince of Vonir and other peoples, lay down your arms and submit to capture and fair trial." The crowd behind rumbled their dissent. Sulme lifted his hand for silence and turned his horse to hamper any sudden surges from the rabble. "On what charges?" I asked. The deaths of these Ekran militiamen wouldn't serve me. The flames of their matchlock guns had been wrought with no wrath and barely any force. I concentrated on that pitiful passionless fire and mouthed the words of cinder. As the matches extinguished with no effort from me, I had to stifle my guffaw. "On the suspicion that you are a proscribed serpentist possessed by a foul spirit, or a swarm of them," the reeve said. "Oh. In that case..." I grinned. "You should shoot, before my uncontrolled wrath blows up your guns." The matchlock in the hands of a boy-soldier clacked, and the rest of handgunners triggered their weapons to no effect. Anger stirred the crowd. "Stay back!" Sulme barked a command at the restless townspeople. The worst tumult subsided enough to allow unshouted discussion. "Now do you see, dear reeve." I rode forward. "The charges that I am an unbridled serpentist are quite preposterous. First, as you must witness, I am a woman, not a soldier of the Fulgurite Prince. Second, if I was not in control, right this moment my flames would coax out your screams." The reeve gripped his baton with two hands to stop them from shaking. "Then what are you?" "In me is the spirit of this land," I lied. "And I need brave soldiers. Which you must be, barring my way thus." My horse wasn't willing to walk near metal spikes, so I had to stop a little further than I would have preferred. "Except of course, unless you are too foolish to understand the situation. Are you bold or unwise?" I stared into the reeve's flared eyes and did my best not to show, how precarious my own situation was. If the soldiers in Attisa sided against me, my revolt died before its birth. The reeve glanced at the mob behind me. I smiled wider. "Very well." The reeve bowed, and his soldiers hurried to reproduce the gesture with their unwieldy weapons. "We will do your bidding, my lady." "That is good. My first order is that you arrest the tyrant freelady, so she can be judged by the assembly of free Attisans. Afterwards you will keep the peace as my highest representative in this fine town." Light glinted in the reeve's eyes. Inside his head, the fear of death must have turned into hope of personal gain. He bowed again. I turned to gaze at the boy, who had tried to shoot me first. He stiffened but didn't avert his eyes. "I will take this one as my page," I said. "He shows courage, but lacks discipline." The reeve nodded. "Karsa, go to your mistress." The boy pushed out of the ranks and jogged to me. He was a long-legged lad, and carried his stubby but heavy handgun effortlessly. His clothes were freshly dyed in deep red, but he wore no other signs of wealth. I offered my hand. The lad needed a few moments, before he realised, what he was supposed to do. He took my hand and kissed the air next my knuckles. A wary smile flickered on Karsa's lips. He took my reins and held them loose to display that I was in control. The soldiers lifted their pole arms. I rode to the reeve, who repeated the show of submission. He was my creature now. At least until my revolt faltered, and he figured a way to show his loyalty to the Prince by betraying me. Surrounded by the militia detachment, I rode through the ancient gatehouse. Chattering townsfolk crowded the churned field next to the the moss-covered town wall. In the distance, under the shade of huge rowan trees, was a group of steel-clad men and their horses. "Are they the freelord's men?" I asked my reeve. "Yes. About all who stayed behind, when the freelord left for the war." The reeve chuckled. "Dotards and bairns, the lot of them." "Still, they seem equipped in shining steel," I said. "Send a word that I want to speak with their leader." The rumours, which circulated among the townsfolk included my exceptional spiritual status. I was asked for blessings. Instead of pretending divine providence, I encouraged them to pray to their ancestors, while I kept my eyes at the Vonir men-at-arms. Young boys and old men they might have been, but an armoured charge could easily scatter even a huge mob of barely armed commoners. From the group, rode a tall man on a horse twice the weight of mine. His fully enclosing armour had been blued deep purple, and the lance he held was a bit too long for even his stature. "Come forth," the rider bellowed in the tones of a brash youth. "You heathen and rabble-rouser. May we tilt lances to determine the true will of the kindly gods." I rode forward. Sulme moved to accompany me, but I gestured him to stay. He obeyed, but his expression lacked approval. "Does your honour permit duelling with an unarmoured woman?" I cried, as I took my horse next to the Tamsi leader. The young knight wore a wispy attempt at a moustache on his robust face. Yet young age didn't indicate the lack of skill or physical prowess. Based on his affluent equipment, he had to be the son of the freelord. Being left out of the war must have galled him, a slight on his honour, which he would enjoy patching by stomping on a revolt. "Ekran wench! Do speak in the language of your lords." "Fine," I changed into Vonish. "My tongue cannot be tainted further by this speech." The scion gave me a thorough examination with his bright eyes. "Who are you? I sense no sorcery, foul or otherwise, in you." Using the name Ryymi seemed inappropriate in more than one way. "My name is Umu," I said. "I am Hatriv of Isso, son of Otsik son of Vemelin. Now, I encourage you to stand down for trial. My blood does not bear to fight a woman such as you." "That is fine. A duel is unnecessary. We are hundreds, while you are three dozen." Hatriv snorted. "The thunder of our hooves will turn that throng into a flock of flighty hens." The knight was likely correct. In a battle over open field, a host of untrained commoners was more of a bane than a boon. Even the town militia wouldn't handle the pressure of seeing the surrounding masses unravel out of fright. "Say, are you a singer?" I asked. "Am I? Of course! Poems of potency and songs of renown fill my memory and slip off my tongue as easy as water." Hatriv squinted his eyes. "Are you suggesting we test our mastery in that lofty business?" "Yes. It would preserve honour, pride and blood." "I would not suggest such a contest to a feeble-minded woman... But your fall will cut short any belief in your powers. Very well. Let us chant." CHAPTER 8 The deep gulp of malty liquor burned in my mouth. To purify myself further, I spread salt on my lips and hands. Our 'battleground' was a wide flat rock near the town walls, just outside the ritual borders of Attisa. Hatriv stood a few spaces from me, still wearing his armour, though without a helmet. The scion lifted his hands at shoulder level and turned towards the distant treeline. In a melodious voice, he beseeched Amsama the Forest Lord to grant him righteous victory. I made my no prayers. Calling the attention of the kindly gods would have done me no good. The townspeople had gathered a few dozen paces away. I had asked them to remain silent and not aid me with songs of their own. I couldn't see the knight in the deeper mirage. Sulme had only been able to tell me that Hatriv would be no pushover, but nothing more. The knight started his song uncontested. I wanted a feel of his prowess. He sang high, as if his voice hadn't yet broken, but with full control of his tones. First came the posturing: an account of the names of his great forefathers and their half-forgotten deeds. Of his own merits he had little so say, except apparently he had felled a large elk belonging to some forest spirit. Most important of his staves were those detailing how a Prince of Vonir had granted the March of Isso to the freelord's father. Hatriv sang of obedience, and called forth curse on those, who transgressed against the sacred order of things. The words were forceful, yet affected me not. Under the Vonir law, the nobleman Ryymi was the freelord's peer, even if of lesser status in practice. I glanced towards the townspeople. Those, who understood Vonish, had apparently been affected by the scion's words, as many knelt in prayer. The knight's voice began to strain, and good tradition dictated that I should take my turn to sing. However, I wasn't sure what poems to chant. As a serpentist, I had never been widely trained in mysteries and incantations. Starting with songs that kill would have been an immense faux pas, possibly bad enough to get spirits of justice interested in the contest. I hummed the rhythm of war drums at approach. Without warning the words poured from my throat. Of melting shackles, I sang, and of burned whips. I chanted about the poison of many vipers, which overcame the mightiest elk. My song turned to shattered thrones, hidden knives in the dark and the power of fire, which needed no strength of arms to kill. Fear flashed on Hatriv's face, but disappeared into rage. "So, you truly are a serpentist!" The scion sang of the birth of the first man and woman. How they came from the same egg as equals, yet that harmony was tainted by an unfaithful wife and false children. He sang of the curse of womanhood, the pain of their cycle, the feebleness of their bodies and the agony of childbirth. He thought to subdue me with a hex against women. I guffawed into an anguished moan. The insides of my lower abdomen hurt as if raked by talons. I laughed the laughter deranged by pain. Yet despite my mirth, I couldn't handle the torture much longer. I sang of the forge, for all bridled fire was Luiheki's own. I reminded the steel, which Hatriv wore, of the heat of its making. His armour was warded with great runes, but their protection was nothing against my Master's might. The scion's fear returned to his face. He continued his repetitive chant against my womanhood, while he fumbled to unstrap his armour. Though pain fuelled my force, I retained control of myself, if only barely. Screaming the words of crucible and furnace, I walked towards the youth with leaden feet. The scion's words dissolved into a wail. I pushed Hatriv over to his back and sat on his stomach. To show that the heat didn't bother me, I pressed my palm against his scalding breast plate. My blood sang murder. I had to breath out the worst fumes, before I demanded: "Do you surrender?" "Y-yes," the knight, reduced into a boy, whimpered. "Who are you?" I grinned wide. "Umu the daughter of Luiheki." I helped Hatriv to his feet and out of his armour. Free from the heat, he ran straight to his horse and galloped towards the fortified manor of his father. The pain lingered inside my lower stomach, but it was a bizarrely comforting discomfort. My page brought my horse. It took me a three tries clamber on the saddle. I leaned forward to test my groin. The usual items were still present, as I had assumed, but it didn't dampen my ached glee. Sulme cantered to me. "Are you alright?" "Yes." I smiled, leaned to him and kissed his cheek. "Come, we are not done yet." The crowd cheered, as I rode to them. After the worst din died down, I shouted: "Is there a sage among us, who can lead worship in the proper way?" The crowd stirred, and a familiar old man was pushed out. He was the head priest at the temple in which I and Sulme had stayed. The sage appeared reluctant but walked to me. I dropped off my horse and knelt in front of the sage. "Grandfather, lead a grateful prayer for us." "Very well. To which god should we pray?" "Luiheki the Free." The sage's expression gained even deeper apprehension. While Luiheki was counted among the kindly gods, his worship was burdened by restrictions, all of which I aimed to shatter. After the short wavering prayer, the mob stared at me in silence. I got back on my horse and surveyed my followers. Though their support was welcome, most of the townsfolk were less than useless for taking over a fortified manor. I listened to the reeve's opinion on the situation and sent a word among the crowd to encourage anyone with any chores or duties to leave. Anyone without a proper weapon was also encouraged to return. If they still wanted to help, they should go fetch food and drink. The remaining, armed and ready for the time being, I commanded to form into groups of ten or so people, who already knew each other. These groups were to elect a leader, which would convene with other four group leaders to form a company. While the commoners argued over how to group themselves, I called any and all veterans, who weren't already part of the town militia, to my personal audience. What came to me was a group of older men. They were mostly intact, though a few boasted rugged unhidden scars or lost limbs. Though they had been willing to stay, it didn't save me from their examining gaze. These were men, who knew what a true commander was like. Most had been in the wars overseas and had only returned home in the last few years. Others had been part of the lesser local wars of recent past. One greybeard went as far as to claim to have fought in the wars against the Nangoans, but I wasn't going to openly doubt him. "It is good to have a few men like you to show the rest of Attisans how soldiers act," I said. "So you are going to fight the Prince, eh?" a man with a poleaxe asked. Some of the men might harbour loyalty to the Tamsi tyrant, despite what the Fulgurite Prince had forced them through. "No," I said. "As long as he does not sic his dogs to oppress us. I work only for the Ekran good." I swallowed to keep the next words from burning my tongue. "If the Prince cares about our benefit, then he will support our cause." "What about you, lady?" a grim man with more scars than facial hair asked. "You said you were at Surtalm." My mouth had blathered faster than my mind could follow. There were no convincing lies, so the unconvincing truth had to do. "I was among the Ekran serpentists." The eyes opened wide, telling for sure which of the men knew the truth. "But..." the scarred man continued. "You are a woman." "Yes. Nobody noticed at the time." That was all anyone wanted to talk about Surtalm. Quicker than I had expected, the town's volunteers were arranged into seven uneven companies. No attempt was there to create proper formations, but we weren't marching off to proper war either. A large number of women remained in the throng. I found myself mulling over, whether or not send them back to town. Such sentiment wasn't quite hypocrisy, considering my experience. Then again, the march to the manor was only a few miles. Besides, the womenfolk would balance and reinforce our communal forces. Men tended to be less willing to show cowardice under female gaze. With the town militia in front, and the volunteers trailing behind me, our little army marched across the ploughed and sowed fields. The locals came to watch us, and a few even answered calls from their relatives and friends to join the procession. My page had a wide smile on his face, as he walked beside my horse. Perhaps it was a young man's excitement over his first campaign, no matter how minor. Or perhaps he had pride over his mistress. I leaned and whispered, so nobody else heard us: "What are you smirking about, boy?" Karsa the page straightened his posture and wiped away the smile. I grinned to myself. The freelord's manor house peeked over stone walls, which were just tall enough to stop any man from scaling them without a ladder. Even a small group of men-at-arms could have held the little fortress quite some time against a proper army, something which I didn't have. I couldn't hope our numbers to do the work. A fresh commander didn't start a war by gaining reputation as a butcher of their own soldiers. My forces spread around the walls outside the easy bow-range to catch any late runaways. I took the handgunners and pikemen in front of the gate to discourage any foolish sorties. "Send my demand," I told the reeve. "The terms as following: surrender now, and nobody will be killed. Everyone, save the freelord's family, will be guaranteed passage to the harbour, where they will acquire passage to the coast of the inland sea. The freelady and her son will remain my unmolested guests." The reeve forwarded my command and said to me: "I doubt the freelady is willing to become a hostage." "Believe me, I am more than willing to string her up as an example. Nonetheless, she must provide an excuse first." The reeve gave me a questioning half-amused look. "You don't fear the freelord's revenge, my lady?" I laughed. "Out of the high nobility in Ekra, that indolent glutton concerns me the least. By Numma, he might even be grateful to hear of the loss of his fief and family; then he does not need to leave the feast tables of the capital." On a nearby hill, three riders appeared. One of them wore full armour. A faded red flag flew above them. "Who is that?" I asked my reeve. "A local knight." "Is he Ekran?" I asked. "About as much as you." I scowled. "What do you mean by that?" "I mean, he talks with similar accent, presumably due to Vonish being his mother tongue." My frown deepened. Even though I had learned to speak in courtly manner first, my Ekrish was immaculate. It was hardly a second language to me, even if I had learned it second. The reeve's smirk disappeared, as his eyes blew wide. "Send a man to call the knight here," Sulme said. "We'll have to negotiate with the local notables sooner than later." "Yes, of course," the reeve said and hurried away. A deep sigh mellowed my pointless anger. Save for his distantly Vonish accent, the knight was thoroughly Issoan. To the point I wouldn't have been able to tell him apart from the peasants without his armour. He was altogether pleased with the prospect of casting down the Tamsi freelord. Yet he did acknowledge that the revolt would result in the Ekran nobility losing their privileges and possibly lives, should we fail. The knight went on to claim that he would have joined the recent war on the side of the Ekran clans, if he had heard about it in time. "Just to be clear," the knight of the faded red flag said. "You aren't planning to let the peasants overthrow us local men of good breeding?" "I am after no Ekran's ancient rights," I said. The knight nodded, said his farewells and departed to 'convene with his kin and peers'. Eventually the shape of a spindly woman appeared on top of the gatehouse. Her ochre-brown curls were framed by a large lace ruff rising behind her head. "We will not accede to the demands of brigands," the man next to the freelady shouted. "The word has been sent, and the freelord will return and punish all revolters in the manner most harsh." "Buggers." The reeve sighed. "We can send for the town's cannon, though it will take time to get them from the walls and all the way here." "Crushing the manor that way would be a waste of shot and powder," I said. "Sulme, can you get a fire arrow through those roof tiles?" "Depends on how sturdy they are," the Nilkoan said. "But the household spirits are sure to extinguish any small fire in the rafters." I smiled. "Not if the fire is mine." After rerolling a paper cartridge to better suit my purposes, I attached a length of grenade match to it and tied it to one of Sulme's arrows. I took my pistol out and placed the end of the match to the chamber holding the spirit. "Awake, little Aanu," I cooed. "Serve me well this once, and you will be free. A whole mansion I offer as your meal. Take the match and wait a moment." A hot red glow swelled in the iron chamber. The flame flickered and leaped to the match. "Now, shoot," I commanded Sulme. Gingerly, the Nilkoan took the arrow. With swift movements he drew his bow and sent the lit missile flying in a wobbly arc. The projectile thumped into the tiles. After a small explosion, the flames disappeared. "Didn't work," the reeve opined. "Give her time." I cleared my dry throat and sang about the ruthless fire of Surtalm. Those Aanu remembered well. Tongues of flame flickered in the roof. A cheer went through my handgunners. "Now, chant with me," I commanded and began a song, which was simple to follow, to the glory of Inmo the Mother Wildfire. My own faltering voice was duly reinforced by the fresh voices of the Attisans. A counter-song rose from the mansion, but calling forth rain was much more difficult than encouraging an already roaring flame. The air itself and the water in it refused to obey the foreign voices, especially after the humiliation I had served to the scion of the freelord. By the time the small dribble fell from the white clouds, the roof of the manor house was a blaze. A horn bellowed, and the gate was thrown open. I changed my song into a serpentine litany. The din of galloping hooves echoed from the gatehouse. A group of knights in splendid armour poured out. "Fire!" the reeve shouted. The thunder of the handguns shook the earth. Drawing from Umu's strength, the powder exploded with immense fury. Lead pierced steel, bone and thick bodies of muscle, in carnage of a kind I had not seen since Surtalm. The first rank of the knights collapsed, and the second hadn't escaped without wounds either. At my command, the pikemen advanced forward. Soon enough, the remaining bewildered Tamsi warriors, stuck between stone and mounds of dying flesh, were unhorsed and silenced in this life. Though my limbs were lead, I left my handgunners to nurse their bruised shoulders and led the intrusion into the tiny fortress. Nobody fought us, which was good, because I could barely stand from weariness. The remaining people were quickly rounded up in the courtyard. Even the freelady allowed herself to be herded, though the haughty woman showed no sing of being cowed. "Send men to pile every item to the yard," I commanded the reeve. "And have each servant checked, if they are Ekran. If they are, let them go and carry off anything they want, save jewellery and coin. Strip the rest of their valuables." "What if the servants are Vonir?" the reeve asked. "They might be gentry in disguise, so they stay." The freelady's composure couldn't be damaged, not even when the handgunners stripped her of gems, silver and gold. She did try to browbeat me with her steely gaze, but the increasingly uncontrollable fire of the main building maintained my mirth. Having a poised and timid courser mare, taken from the freelord's stable, between my legs did also elevate my mood. Two soldiers carried a small but heavy chest to me. They lifted the lid to reveal a hoard of silver and gold. "Great. Reeve, distribute one gold coin's worth to each volunteer group for sharing equally, and three per ten men to your militia. Rest of the loot goes to the town council." "What about your share, my lady?" he asked, presumably due to no mention of his own share. "I will take none. I am not in this for my own gain. Speaking of that, as the freelord's fief is now abolished, any duties over the land formerly under its direct control go to the Attisa council." The reeve mulled the order only for a moment, before he drew a sharp breath. My command made him one of the most powerful men in the March. Yet I had left out any mention of privileges over the land. His status would be the subject to the sanction of the town council. Ultimately the reeve's power stemmed from whatever authority the locals considered me to have. If the reeve was as covetous as I assumed, he would now on give me his fervent support. "Excuse me," the freelady snapped. "Are you going to negotiate our terms of surrender?" "What surrender?" I asked. "You have been captured in the process of wilful resistance." The noblewoman scowled. "You should treat your hostages with better respect." "I would have you burned on a stake, but your lot is not worth the wood." I turned to the reeve. "Herd them back into their manor. Let Luiheki grant them swift, if not painless death." The bewitched rain blossomed into a real downpour, but at that point the manor had already collapsed. I walked through the scorched doorway and knelt next to the lingering embers. "You did well, Aanu. Did you eat your fill? I treated you well, did I not? Now, do you want to dissipate, or would you serve me still?" I didn't have to coax the spirit more. It jumped back into the hold of my pistol. "Do you want a spirit like that in your gun?" Sulme asked. "Why would I not? She will not burn me." Sulme frowned, though this time the expression wasn't quite funny. I sighed to concede his point, but I needed every advantage I could get. A fire spirit engorged with human sacrifice was one of them. "You disapprove my actions," I said. "No, I can't. You did what you needed to." He gestured at our burned surroundings. "This is all strategy. Burning bridges behind us, so to speak. Show no mercy, so the rebellion can expect none." "Indeed. Commoner revolts fail the moment when they lose their taste for blood and begin to negotiate. Princes never heed their lessers for a moment more than required to regroup their own forces to crush the insurgents." "Would you have let them go, if they surrendered at once?" "Of course. I am not a monster." My mouth wavered. "Am I?" Sulme opened his mouth but hesitated. He spread his arms, and I pushed to hug him. Fortunately the rain hid my tears. PART III - Infernal Mistress CHAPTER 9 The Attisans welcomed us, as if we had returned from a great victory. I had no stomach for celebrations. The town had become a hotbed of intense debate about what the current situation in fact was. Were they in open revolt, and if so, against whom? I was repeatedly entreated to preside over hasty emergency meetings, but I responded only by asserting that the town council remained in control of temporal matters. My only advice was to double their drilling and arm even the poorer resident men properly on town coin. A small group of councillors granted me residence in a townhouse left vacant. Its owner had been Tamsi trader, who had wisely fled Attisa. The house was in a quaint part of the town and came with servants: a perplexed family of three. After a scribe explained, how the town would pay their wages, the parents and their nearly adult daughter were eager to get back to work. In the main bedroom, I dropped my sword belt on the table, kicked shoes off my aching feet and collapsed on the fresh linens of the bed. Immediately I was rooted in place. My limbs were too heavy move. Sulme undressed into nothing but a long shirt and sat at the table to clean our equipment. "I shall not last long," I said. Sulme stopped and turned towards me, but I didn't look at him. I continued: "Already my soul feels alien. Today I used the name 'Umu' twice, and it was not false." "Well, your old name doesn't quite fit any more." "It is not that." I twisted like a beached whale to get on my back. "Perhaps She has been with me longer than I thought. I cannot even remember, why I hate the Tamsi. Only my hatred of the Prince has a reason." Sulme drew his mouth into a line and regarded me with his own tired worry. "You should rest. Cloudy thoughts are normal, after overextending one's soul, like you did today." Umu's nature wouldn't have been exhausted by a few meagre chants, but I didn't bother arguing. Better to be tired than deep in self-pity. The Nilkoan stood up and came to sit next to my feet. He looked at me as he might at a tragically sick child. "I can't see inside your mind," he said. "But I wouldn't say you have lost yourself. You are merely in a difficult situation." A dismissive snort escaped my mouth. Immediately I regretted the petulance. "You know, what might help you feel better?" Sulme said. "Picking a name for your true self." I lifted my feet on his lap. "Do you have any suggestions?" Sulme took a foot into his hands and kneaded it in an unnecessary show of kindness. "How about the name from either of your grandmothers?" "Both of those are already given to my sisters. If you want me to have a name, how about something Nilkoish?" "Well..." Sulme remained silent, but I declined to interrupt him. Finally he said: "'Teissa' would be Nilkoish for a girl." I pursed a smile. "Or a young wife." "It wouldn't be exactly that. You see--" "'Teissa' is fine." My name scarcely mattered. If Sulme liked it, the name was good enough. The Nilkoan managed a lopsided smile and patted my shin. "I'll go help with the water. A bath will refresh your mind." The reasonably warm water leeched tension off my body. Sulme had left me to soak in the bathtub, while he made the last arrangements of the evening downstairs. "Why are you so glum?" Umu's voice asked, even though I wasn't concentrating on the deeper mirage. "Go away. I am relaxing." "You should be glad. This day was a success. Attisa is almost as wealthy as the capital city Munni, and people here already eat from your palm." "I am beginning to think the Tamsi are right to detest possessed serpentists." A low chuckle filled my mind. "You would be correct. They are right to fear you." I slapped the water and guffawed. "They do not fear me. If anything, I am more deserving of their pity for my weakness. Now leave. My body is not quite yours yet." The spirit's presence faded, but I was left with a sinking sensation in my stomach. The water could warm me no more. I stood up shivering, dried myself and hurried to between the bedsheets, just as Sulme returned. "I brought something to eat," he said. "Thank you, though I am not hungry." "I have a mug of beer too. Strong stuff from the harbour temple, apparently." "Alright, I will take that." While Sulme washed himself, I nursed the mug, which quickly turned out empty. The drink went straight into my head, just like the sight of the tall man washing every part of himself did. When the Nilkoan was almost ready, I turned my back towards him and pretended to be asleep. The bed shifted under a large weight, and strong arms snaked to embrace me from behind. "You are so cold," Sulme whispered in my ear. "Do you want me to go get another blanket?" "No need. You are warm enough." His roaming touch was like fire without the bite. My heart thumped hard enough to make me sick. I turned around. The man smiled at me. "You consider me a girl, is it not so?" "Yeah. It would be hard not to." His fingers moved to explore my hair, sending little waves of joy through me. I bit my lower lip. "Can you imagine, what a girl might want to do in this situation?" I paused to gather my courage to continue. "Well, I cannot do that, but I would like to try... something similar." Sulme remained silent, but his hand moved to my posterior. A finger brushed down between my buttocks, and I shivered. "You mean here?" the man asked. "Yes... I made sure to be clean, though my changes have all but removed the need of that." I brushed his wide chest. "I think you would enjoy me." "Probably. But how about you? The only time I've se-- heard it done, the recipient didn't enjoy it at all." "Where?" Sulme's voice turned grave. "At Ousa." "Oh..." I brushed the thought off my mind. "We might not get another chance. Tomorrow I might--" I placed my fingers on the man's lips. "Don't say you would still love me regardless of my shape, because you cannot know, how your heart shifts. But if even a part of my mind remains intact, I would have one memory of you to cherish." Sulme sighed. "Teissa, I can't claim I'm not willing. But I wouldn't have any real idea of what to do." "Well, I want you inside me, so the goal is set for us. Go fetch that jug of oil to the nightstand. We need something to ease the entrance. After all, your manhood has girth, and I am as virginal as maidens go." The man hurried off the bed, with his state of rigid readiness in full display. He returned with the jug and lay back down. "Now, stay still," I said and clambered to sit on his thighs. I asked: "You are fine being below me? Not all men would." Sulme nodded and moved his hands on my hips. In front of me, his cock was a lance ready to conquer, eager to add the pleasuring of men to the purposes of my body. The intrusion would forever rob me of ritual purity as a proper virile male, yet I was eager. For me, it wouldn't be a loss of status. Not once had Sulme acted like I was lesser than him. The Nilkoan had already professed that he was mine. It was time to show I was willing to be his. I dipped the fingers of my left hand in the jug. The man twitched, as I spread the oil on his member. My own little wand --full but not particularly hard-- showed its need through quivering. I rose, moved my knees beside the man's torso and reached to position the cock between my buttocks. The wet cockhead touched the vulnerable entrance. I pressed down and flinched. Instead of letting the member slide into me, my body fought to retain its sanctity. I tried again. The pressure grew uncomfortable, without me making any headway. "We don't have to--" "Shut up," I snapped. On the next try I lasted long enough to turn the discomfort into stretching burn. "Ow..." I collapsed on top of the man. The entry had no right to hurt so much. I could handle agony, but it should have come only after at least a little pleasure, if at all. Strong arms wrapped around me. "It's fine," Sulme murmured. "Do you want to stop?" "Of course not," I scoffed. "Maybe you need to relax before trying again." Sulme's hand moved to my buttock. "Let's try, if you can enjoy it at all, with a smaller appendage." "That might be wise." A finger touched my pucker. I shivered. Perhaps it would also hurt. Perhaps I had deluded myself to hope such an unnatural activity to be enjoyable. Sulme did deserve to enjoy himself for standing by me despite my whining and erratic actions. I had to steel my nerves and not show my discomfort, so I wouldn't ruin his mood. I wrapped my arms below Sulme's neck and pressed my face against his shoulder. His finger pushed an inch inside me. The intrusion caused no pain. "Go on," I muttered. Instead of pushing deeper, Sulme's finger circled against the rim. A pulse went through me. The Nilkoan must have noticed it against his abdomen, but he indicated nothing. Slowly, the finger spiralled deeper, until the whole thing was inside. I clung to to the large man like to a part of a smashed ship in a storm. "Are you still enjoying this?" Sulme asked. "It is... nice. Though I almost wish your spear was no larger than this." Sulme chuckled. "Relax, Teissa. You are already much less uptight." I kept my disgruntlement in check. The man continued to explore my insides. Jolt went through me. The finger had touched a place much more sensitive than rest of the inner walls. "S-stop," I muttered. "Do that again." "Do what?" "Press..." I breathed in deep to fight the wave of embarrassment. Certainly it wasn't proper for me to give guidance on how to prod my innards. "Press towards my crotch from the inside." "Like this?" After some trying, the man found the spot. He pushed hard, and I shuddered. The tension reached all the way through my groin. There it was: the pleasure I could experience from my man. "Pull out," I commanded. Sulme obeyed immediately. "Oh, sor--" "None of that. I merely want move on from half-measures." I rose and positioned my rear for another try. This time the cock wasn't barred entry. The stretching made me wince. Sulme grunted and twisted his face. It must have been a bit tight for him too. Instinctive desire guided my movements, as I nudged myself up and down. The pain faded to the back of my head. My weight defeated the resistance of my body and pulled me down. I gasped from the friction, from the brushing touch at the tender spot, from the pressure which was both uncomfortable and wonderful. I was firmly seated on my man's hips, him deep inside me. Traditionally, something like that would have made a girl into a woman. For a man it would have been a grave humiliation, the sign of his utter lack of manliness, the proof of his weakness and cravenness. Enough for the courts to brand him outlaw unless he killed his violator. But I was already outside the laws of men and gods. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt Sulme. It mattered little: I wasn't a man in the first place. My arm reached forward. The Nilkoan realised, what I was doing, even if I didn't, and clasped my hand. Sulme had his usual warm and kind smile, even though his cock was pushed into my innards. The being filled to the prim was nauseating, and my mind spun from glee. I gathered my resolve and lifted myself a few inches to slide down again. There it was, the odd sensation of flaring nerves in my lower abdomen. It was tantalisingly close to pleasure, yet had the quality of a mere throbbing echo. A half-frustrated moan escaped lips. I took more stable position and began to shift my hips. Even if the stabs into me stoked my lust, I wasn't able to climax. But I needed to come, before I lost my mind, before I grew bitter at our love. "Touch me..." I spoke under my breath. Sulme took my worm into his fist and kneaded it in a careful way one would caress something small, vulnerable and precious. I shuddered. My movements turned into mere humps. The tender touch from outside combined with the hard pressure inside. Small pleasure from my wand was enough to ignite the feeling of being fulfilled, like fire in the pan of a loaded gun. Across my thighs and abdomen, nerves scintillated in a welcome orgasm. Though the glow faded, I was left with satisfaction. Below me, Sulme's hard abdomen had a trickle of my slime. The man deserved a reward. He should remember his first time, especially when that time was with me. I lifted my hips almost enough for the rod slip out of me and slammed my butt down. The motion burned in my pucker, but I repeated it again and again. With each thrust, Sulme grunts were a delight. I lowered my hips to a sloppy wet sound. Liquid warmth filled me, and a strong spiritual outpouring of virility touched my soul. Grin spread my mouth, and I sat down. "Did you like it?" "Yeah..." Sulme's breath wavered, but his gaze was intense. Possessive. I yelped, as large arms reached to grab me and pulled me against the man. The already softening cock flopped free from me. Warm seed poured out. Sulme's hug was strong, perhaps a bit too much so, but I didn't mind. The man lowered me to his side, and we moved until I could nestle against his powerful frame. However, I couldn't just fall asleep. The soreness crept across my rear, and both us were smeared by our sticky discharges. "I think we will have to wash ourselves again," I whispered. "And change the sheets." "Not yet." Sulme tightened his grip around me. "It'll take me a moment to gather my strength to let go of you." I smiled and closed my eyes. "Why did you never come to find me and claim me as your 'Teissa', before the Prince ruined me?" "I'm sorry." "Apologising for not doing an impossibility..." I sighed with amusement. "I do appreciate it. But let us enjoy the present, instead of stoking my bitterness about the past." Sulme said nothing, only moved his arms in an attempt to claim more of me. CHAPTER 10 My squirming dreams faded, but I fought against waking up. Abhorrent reality awaited me, if I opened my eyes. In the dreams I was too formless for dread. Perhaps death would be similar, but it was an intimidating barrier to cross. The mood for lingering sleep disintegrated, and I couldn't escape outer reality forever. Sulme was still asleep beside me. Weak sunlight poured through the thin drapes. I had to stifle a scream. My left hand, the one which has held my pistol and touched the scorching breastplate, was covered in dark grey scales all the way to my elbow. In place of finger nails I had sharp black claws. The palm of the right hand was normal, but on the other side was a patch of snakeskin. My outburst hadn't disturbed the man next to me. I held my breath and rose from the bed. The sight of my legs made me froze. The toes were slightly splayed, and their nails had grown and darkened black. Patches of grey scales dotted the my feet and shins. I closed my eyes and concentrated on exorcising my fear and disgust. The changes were nothing more than the price of abusing Umu's nature. The most bitter thing was that I wouldn't be able to re-experience the joy of yestereve. It hadn't been my first time in general sense, but unlike anything previous, our act had gone beyond the hollow satisfaction of the body. Despite my soreness, I wanted more of Sulme. I couldn't force him to copulate with the monster I had turned into. "Good morning, Teissa." I frantically searched for my clothes, before remembering that Sulme had taken them down for washing. "Good morning." I turned to face the man. He sat on the edge of the bed and looked me over. His smile didn't waver. "So?" I demanded. "'So' what?" "You have nothing to say?" Sulme stood up and sighed. "You know, at times I think you are baiting me for an excuse to get upset." "In case you did not notice, I am already very much upset." The man reached to kiss me, and I didn't resist. His hand touched the scaly line of my back, as if enjoying the smoothness. He reached to my buttocks and grabbed my spine. I yelped and jerked away. The Nilkoan smiled. "Sorry, I couldn't resist." "What did you do?" Sulme's expression turned puzzled. "I just touched your tail." "Tail?" I reached to my lower back and fought against the wave of repulsion, when my hand touched an appendage covered in scales. The thick tail was only the length of my hand, but even that was much too long. "Oh Inmo's embrace," I muttered. "Come here." Sulme hugged me. "I wouldn't have touched it, if I knew it'd hurt." "Hurt? No. I was merely surprised." "Then you won't mind, if I touch it again?" I drew back. "Why would you want to?" Sulme shrugged. "It's cute." I stared at him in disbelief. "You are still comely," Sulme said. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I find your peculiarities rather fascinating. Maybe it's a tendency, which I inherited from my father." I should have been livid about the man's perverted inclination, but on the other hand, it was nice that he didn't find me as disgusting as I felt. I hurried to the mirror. My face was still the same, though my hair was longer. It might been the lye in the soap, but the colour of my hair seemed more vivid and closer to golden. One change was apparent: my breasts had swollen. The bosom wasn't exactly huge, but the teats were noticeable on an otherwise lean girl such as I. My useless worm hadn't disappeared, though it seemed even feebler than the day before. The stones underneath had all but vanished. Perhaps, just perhaps, the transformation of my human parts would finish, before I lost myself to Umu. I wrapped a thin housecoat around me and sat on a chair in silence, pretending my best to have sunk into thoughts, while trying to keep my mind as still as I could. Sulme returned with breakfast and my clothes. I kept treating him like a valet, yet he bore it without complaint. Any sensible person would consider it weird. Unless they had ill will, they'd think us married. Perhaps spirits were allowed to treat their husbands like servants. Of course, my condition made it impossible to have maids to attend me. I'd have to make it worth to Sulme for the duration I had left. The Nilkoan placed a tray in front of me. The fresh bread smelled delicious. For the drink was a jug of beer. Perhaps I shouldn't have started the morning drunk, but thinking about the coming day made my head hurt. I wasn't much of a politician, yet I'd have to be. The situation needed a lot of nosy work to make sense of. I'd have to separate reliable sycophants from untrustworthy grovellers, and the questioning yet prospective allies from passive opponents. Nobody had tried to burst in to kill me in my sleep. It was a start. At the very least, I had their fear, if not respect and obedience. "I sent the girl to buy a pair of long gloves for you," Sulme said. "It's still cold outside anyhow." I rubbed my scaled hand. Hiding myself was humiliating, but necessary. People wouldn't follow an abomination. Already many suspected that I was possessed, with good reason. Only by not showing any signs of uncontrolled fire had I avoided the breaking wheel. In the afternoon, I participated in the meeting of the town council. I refused the honour of being the speaker, nor did I accept a vote. The Issoans needed to handle the foundations of the rebellions themselves for our cause to have any hope of succeeding. My refusal of any personal power did bolster the assumption that I was a corporeal spirit, and thus put weight to my opinions in the subjects which truly mattered. "We need to sue for peace," the master furrier said. "Perhaps the Prince, in his mercy, will grant us status as a free city." I chuckled low. "The only thing the Fulgurite Prince will grant you is a ruler to keep you under the heel. Gentlemen, if you do not seize this opportunity, you will lose it, and more, forever." The debate passed over my remark. Some of the patricians painted images of wider conquests, even all the way to the coast of the inland sea or even beyond, but most of the talk was about taxes. The Attisans were well informed on the planned changes, which they did not approve in the slightest. The war taxes to fund the Fulgurite Prince's expeditions were already intolerable. Or so the merchants without toll exemptions claimed. If they wouldn't fight for their rights, then fighting for coin had to be good enough. Still, the fact that a war with the Vonir would be an expensive and risky enterprise was not lost on the council. "What chance do we have of victory?" an affluent landowner of common blood asked in a booming voice. "The clans of the coast gave up, before we even heard of their war." I stood up. "The Ekrans did not lose due to weakness of arms! Too long have they eaten from the Vonir hand. Ekran knights lacked the heart to resist their masters, like wolfdogs unable to survive in the wild any longer. That shall happen to you also soon enough, though instead of a warm kennel, you will only receive the rod reserved for a cur." The debate turned into murmurs and effete questioning of my purpose at the council. I didn't bother to argue my case. If they wouldn't have me, then let them handle the Vonir Prince by themselves. Noon sun poured from the tall windows, and the meeting was adjourned. Because my presence only distracted the council from the tedious but necessary political wrangling, I decided to vacate the ancient castle serving as the town hall. On my way out, I was accosted by the chief matron of the fire temple and her two huge torch-carrying bodyguards. None of the local priests had participated in the council, as the clergy was in turmoil. Most sanctified men and women adhering to the Tamsi rite had fled the town, leaving many temple positions vacant. "Lady Umu?" she asked. I bowed. "Yes, grandmother?" "There's something I must discuss with you." The priestess gestured towards a side room. I followed her. In the small room, a servant herded me to sit and placed a wine cup in front of me. The matron sat on the other side, daintily as a snowflake despite her age. The beverages offered at the council hadn't quite quenched my thirst, so I helped myself to the disappointingly diluted wine. "There is talk that you are related to the Lord of Bridled Fire." Inwardly, I groaned. Getting proscribed as a heretic was the last thing I needed. "Do you except me to prove something like that?" The priestess smiled. "No. The signs indicate that it is not a lie." I did my best not to indicate my surprise. "So. What now?" "Not much. We shan't denounce you. But we can't validate any claims of divinity either. The situation is too uncertain for that. Additionally, Luiheki is an unpredictable master." The priestess glanced at my gloved hand. "It is said, some serpentists manage to appear lucid for quite some time, despite being drenched in the serpentine corruption." I chuckled. "So you will use me in hopes that my little rebellion melts the Tamsi shackles off you, but you won't commit to anything." "Yes." I took a long gulp. "Fair enough." "Frankly, we do not understand, why some of the most devout servants of the Lord of Hearth end up with their souls so frayed. It must be the violent impulses. Try to curb them." "I can promise nothing. But I will try." The priestess nodded. "Now, on to other business. The master armourer wants to donate a steel suit to you, as a devotional offering to Luiheki. His team has spent the whole day and night resizing the most suitable set available to your approximate measurements. It would do his guild honour, if you accepted it." Metal clinked and the forge hummed in the workshop. Their music accompanied the forceful chant of the sweaty, sooty and singed smiths. I waited in the adjacent room wearing every part of my new armour that fit. The suit was of an old fashioned style, but of superb craftsmanship. According to the armourer, it had been imported from overseas to a young Nangoan nobleman, who had died before collecting it. The steel was gorgeously fluted and blued to a striking hue. Despite my recent feebleness, I barely noticed its weight. Though the suit was almost a perfect fit already, the smiths needed to adjust the parts protecting the shoulders and thighs. My recently grown additional padding didn't make the breastplate at all uncomfortable. My page fetched us mugs of warm milk, but I couldn't sit down to drink it. The tailor, who the smith had hired, wanted to make absolutely sure that the additional garments didn't impede my movements. The puffy shoulder garment and loose leg pieces were designed to look as if I wore a lady's gown with the armour. I humoured her by doing the ridiculous gymnastics she asked of me. Testing with the chair proved the 'skirt' wouldn't limit my ability to ride a horse. The sleeves had enough room for all sword stances and strikes I could come up with. When finally I was fully ironclad, I felt thoroughly protected, even if the blued harness was rather thin. With the double breastplate, only a serpentist could shoot through into my heart. With my every movement, my new armour let out satisfying clatter: the familiars sound of approaching death on the battlefield. "How do you like it?" the master armourer asked. "It is wonderful." I smiled, though he wasn't able to see it from behind the neck-mouth protection and visor. "I have never had armour, which was this effortless to wear. It is like a glove around me." The old master smiled wide. Though he hadn't made the pieces himself, he had succeeded marvellously at the adjustment done mostly by eye-balling. He bowed. "I am glad it suits you. Now, while I don't presume a payment, could you bless our main forge?" I stiffened. While Luiheki governed the fires of smithy, serpentists weren't known for their constructive influence. "Would that be proper?" I asked. "I am sure your fires are already thoroughly blessed. Besides, I was sent to use a sword, not to create them." "It would mean a lot to us." Umu chuckled in my mind. "Do it, girl. I will grant them fire." "Very well. After all, it is only polite." I followed the elder smith to the forge room. The spirit in me took over my tongue, as I lifted my hands in gesture of devotion. "Listen to me, fell fierce Father, force this fire to burn hotter. Melt off meekness, harden our steel, bless blades to drink lifeblood with zeal." The flames flickered brighter, almost translucent. Even in front of the blaze, my cheeks warmed further. "I am sorry. My nature did not let out any blessing for armour-making." The smiths gathered around the forge. "Look, friends, how cleanly it burns," one of them said. "Must be fellfire!" Utterances of amazement went through the men. I stepped away to let them crowd around the forge instead of me. The master armoured turned to me. "It's not quite what I expected, but it sure is more! You truly are the daughter of the Master." "Of course," Umu said. "Pray tell, was there any doubt?" The armourer bowed. "Not at all, my lady." Sulme's voice greeted the people in the adjacent room. My armour rattled, as I hurried to him. The Nilkoan started from the sight of me. I didn't let him recover and instead grappled him tight. "Oh, it's you." Sulme chuckled, patted my back plate and pushed me off him. "They said you were fitting on armour. I didn't think it would be a full harness." I smiled, exaggerating with my eyes, so the man could see my mirth. I leaned forwards and whispered: "To be honest, I too expected a munition plate and some old iron cap." The old armoured strode after me. "Welcome, goodman. You must be the lady's companion." Sulme nodded deep. "Yes, I do recognise your mighty frame, even outside your ragged coat of plates," the armoured said. "I must get you better steel to wear." "No thank you. My equipment suits me well enough." "Do not pass off generosity too easily," I said. "This man is the best mortal smith I have met." It was not entirely a lie: the maker of Klakki had enough strange liquids in his veins to be springy in his steps, in spite of having made the sword to my grandfather. Sulme hesitated. "Come on now," I insisted. "At least let him patch your warcoat, if nothing else." "Alright. I'll need to go fetch it first." "You do that. I will return to the town hall." "In full harness?" Sulme asked. "Yes. They could use the reminder to stop questioning my martial prowess." CHAPTER 11 Sulme's kiss still warmed forehead, as I rode through the street towards the only hill in town. The crowds split from my way. Many a head bowed to me, as they should. My courser's frame rippled with strength. The armour --my skin-- was impervious to both blows and malicious gazes. I was high above even the tallest man. Between buildings was a gap, and I could look over the lake. In the harbour was familiar galley with its rust-coloured sails. The ship of Lord Mulkava. My first instinct was to kick the mare into gallop. But ploughing through the townsfolk wasn't conducive to my goals. I told my page to run in front and shoo people out of my way. Outside the townhall entrance, loitered a group of Vonir knights and their sergeants. Based on the presence of fully equipped town militia, Attisa hadn't been handed off yet. My page stayed with my horse, as I strode inside without glancing at the Tamsi. The council members had spread at the sides of the circular main hall. In front of the symbolical throne, stood lord Mulkava in full armour. He was speaking with two of the local officials, and belly-laugh filled the room. Nobody else shared the Tamsi lord's jovial mood. My hand slipped to the butt of my pistol. I hesitated. Even with the force of Aanu, the bullet might not punch through the sigil-warded plate. Mulkava knew what to expect from me and would thus be prepared. Besides, a cowardly shot wouldn't do good for my prestige, especially if I missed. Still, the hound of the Tamsi had none of his men with him. Overt violence remained an option. "Lord Mulkava!" I yelled. The steel in front of my mouth did not mute my voice. "I see you have decided to visit this splendid city." "Ah, there you are." Mulkava walked in the middle of the room. His movements were slow, almost wary, and he had trimmed his beard. "Though I was commanded otherwise, I offer you the chance to surrender. Your spirit can still be purified of your corruption, that I believe." "I am not corrupted." I gauged the Attisans around me and Mulkava. They had been willing enough to go along with my schemes, but an Ekran nobleman might sway them into deadly hesitation. "Why are you acting as a woman then?" Mulkava asked. His smile was wide and kind. "No matter. You have fooled these innocent folk as you have fooled yourself. It is not your fault. They do not understand the danger in your art. I want to save your soul, or at least what is left of it. It is not too late for you, my old friend." I wasn't Ryymi. Nor mad. My soul was not corrupted. I might be a damnable fool, but I would be weak no more. Klakki slithered out of its sheath like water despite the length of the blade. Mulkava took a step back. "Even should you kill me, it would do your 'cause' no good. Already the Prince's fleet comes forth to ensure the Marches are pacified. You would know this, had you participated at the feast of peace!" "Coward," I growled. "I spit on our kinship. You are naught but a Tamsi lapdog." "Yes, I am loyal to my Prince. I have sworn the same oaths to our lord as you. Oaths which you have unlawfully broken." Mulkava lifted the lower part of his helmet to cover his face. He unclasped his scabbard, pulled his longsword out and threw the sheath away. "However, never have I been craven." Mulkava was half wider than Sulme and a hand's breath taller. Even at my masculine peak, he had been able to overpower me. However, my sword was the better one for killing fully armoured opponents, so I wasn't without advantages. Calling on forces to aid me was out of question. Mulkava was a forceful singer, and there was no knowing, how the powers in that ancient structure might react to songs of struggle. Ironically enough, had I been unarmoured, I might have been able to tire out the man-giant. But fleeing across the town hardly suited my dignity, and prolonging the fight would have come with its own risks. Besides, Mulkava was too experienced to fall for such a ploy. No matter. A short fight was as safe as a fight could be. I strode forward, lifted my sword to shoulder level and swung it into thrust at Mulkava's eyes. He merely parried my blade aside and took a pace back. He thought I wasn't dangerous enough to take seriously. I stepped forward. Instead of using his longer reach to stop me, he countered my strike without making an effort to attack back. "This is a farce," Mulkava said. "If I wanted you dead, I'd--" "Then kill me!" I rushed forward. Armour clattered in a flurry of shifting grips. We struggled for an advantageous position, until both us held our sword with an off-hand on the blade. The tip of Klakki came exasperatingly close to chinks in Mulkava's armour, but he wasn't unskilled enough to grant me an easy kill. The man used his weight to gouge with his sword. After a brief test of brute strength, Mulkava had twisted his blade under my shoulder, where the plate did not protect. I froze. Klakki was so close to man's glaring eyes, yet a thrust from me would let him slice into my armpit. "Let go of your sword," Mulkava said. "My offer still stands." I was feeble. If I had retained even a shred of dignity, I would have gone for the kill. Perhaps I didn't want Mulkava dead. After all, even a weak swordsman should have been able to defeat an opponent, who didn't try to kill them in earnest. It had been a mistake to embrace the female visage. I didn't even have the strengths of womanhood, the ability to entice and create and nurture and love. I had only had the weakness of thews. The weakness of mind was all mine. "Let me," a soothing, intense, womanly voice said inside my ear. True weakness was of the spirit. The feebleness of my body was just an excuse. I relinquished control of my mind, yet my hands did not let go of the sword. "Aanu," I seethed. The petty spirit did not need words to understand the bidding of her master. The flames poured from the gun and the holster and turned my clothes into a blaze. Fear lit in Mulkava's eyes. He tried to step back, but I contorted to keep his sword in our mutual hold, even if Klakki shifted away from his eyes. He'd have to drop his sword to get away. The cloth padding underneath my armour caught fire. Aanu was a hungry flame, but she couldn't burn my flesh. Her fire only melted away the slag in my soul. Mulkava couldn't escape the wrath of fire. His momentary hesitation was enough: I drove my sword through the chainmail protecting the inside of his elbow. The man grunted in pain, and swung his sword at my arm, but the blade couldn't cut through the rigid steel of my armour. Relieved from the grapple, I retreated a step and flourished my blade, even though my sword arm throbbed from the impact. It was important to show that I wasn't bothered by the fire, which wreathed me. The dog of the Tamsi tried to grip his sword in both arms, but his whole body flinched. Instead of giving up, he lunged at me in brash one-handed thrust. Though Mulkava was strong enough to handle his blade with one arm, he couldn't match the leverage and control of two. Soon I had pricked his armpit and sliced the back of his thigh. Though the wounds were shallow, they made him hesitate his movements. Mulkava did not follow, when I walked a few paces backwards. "You..." Mulkava panted. Blood trickled on the polished steel covering him. "You are not Ryymi." "Now you noticed?" It was a shame that he couldn't see my grin. "Take off your helmet, and your agony shall stay short." Mulkava's whole body shifted with overly deep breaths. He must have been meditating to numb the pain and bring forth the power of his essence. Though the Tamsi dog was wounded, he could still bite. One slip would give him a change to overpower me. The stress of our short struggle numbed my lithe limbs. I needed strength, so I lifted my hand. "Aanu, to my palm." The spirit obeyed its better, and the fires left the scorched shreds of my garments. I squeezed my fist and forced Aanu into my hand. Its fire spread into my veins. It burned me, but did not consume my flesh. Terror moved across the onlooking faces. Even if they had no personal experience with possession, they knew they would be dead, if I was not in control. I laughed a clear tone of brass. "This..." Mulkava gestured at me for the benefit of our audience. "...is what you have chosen to lead you." "Yes," I agreed. "This is what the Tamsi fear. Power and will to defy tyrants." I strode to Mulkava. He made a valiant attempt at fighting back, but after a brief struggle I had forced him to kneel in front of his better. His longsword lay on the floor, as impotent as the strength of his flesh. I pulled the helmet off his face. "Sun's curse on you, worm," Mulkava spit. I guffawed. "My dear aunt will not hurt me." Mulkava's gaze fell. "Finish me already." "No. The coming Tamsi fleet gives you a purpose." I turned towards the door and yelled: "Servants! Come strip this rabid hound and bind him tight." I glanced down at myself. My garments had burned thoroughly, to the point that it was apparent I was a woman. The sight of finished transformation was pleasing, even though it was accompanied by the spread of my serpentine aspect. "Bring me a comb and something to wear like a skirt," I said. "Not that my virtue is threatened by your gazes, but I assume this sight might distract you." After tying a cloth around my hips, I rose to the throne. For a moment, I wondered if anyone save mischievous night servants had sat on the oversized dark chair. It suited my rump well and even had a hole in the back to stick my tail into. While I watched the humiliation of Mulkava, I took off the cramped steel overshoes and wiggled my newly splayed toes. Though they had black talons, the feet still retained the general human shape. Both feet were completely covered by the grey scales, which reached to halfway my thighs. I removed my helmet and neck protection and began to comb my disorderly hair. "Will you let this creature rule you?" Mulkava cried. "Instead of the kindly, worshipful and righteous Fulgurite Prince? You are not beyond his mercy, yet." "Oh, I do not rule." I clicked a talon on the stone dais. "I only make immaculate suggestions, which are followed by anyone deeming themselves wise. Cut off his blasphemous tongue." My suggestion was followed, quite wisely. The following suggestion that all of the council members genuflect in front of me was duteously heeded. The people in the room had plenty of frantic questions. They required a lot of firm suggestions, until they found a resemblance of the calm suitable to their station. "Make no mistake, my friends." I stood up. "None of you shall be spared from the Prince's wrath, should we fail." PART IV - Crucible on Water CHAPTER 12 The revelation that the princely fleet was already on its way shook the council. I too had planned to let the peasants sow their fields before drilling every volunteer without mercy all through the summer. While nobody turned into a knight without anything less than a lifetime of training, most motivated men with even a little previous experience with weapons could me forged into serviceable soldiers in a few weeks of drill. More pressing than lack of trained men was the lack of a fleet. We couldn't hope to beat the Tamsi purely on open field. Though Isso was a land of lakes, it would take time to recruit the crews and commandeer the boats large enough to be useful. I took Mulkava with me, as I left the town hall. As he could not walk, four servants had to drag him across the floor. Outside, the Tamsi knights and their armed servants had been stopped by the local militiamen. When they saw their master, they found their courage in aggression. The gunners and halberdiers obeyed my whim, the Tamsi died. They put up a poor fight, thought to their credit they were heavily outnumbered. A crowd gathered to stare at me. I gave them a smile. Nobody cheered, but that was fine. The roar of guns --the ear-splitting song of power-- was all the fanfare I needed. "Glory to Umu!" shouted a boyish voice that cracked under the weight of its fervour. I turned to the shouter and saw my page. Pride burned in his eyes. My smile widened. My handgunners answered the shout. It certainly made sense for them to glorify my name after killing for me. The unsure onlookers joined the show of approval. I went to my horse, only to find that it fidgeted in my presence. In order to mount it, I had to whisperer the origin words for the divine ancestor of equines. Afterwards the mare was as still as a statue, unless I commanded it. I gave my people a small speech to explain the situation. I told them, how the ever-jealous Tamsi had cruelly attacked me, forcing me to reveal my true self, even though my aims had been always to guide the Issoans as one of them. Stones and other detritus flew towards Mulkava. I drank the fear and hatred in his gaze, before telling the people to spare him for later use. "To think he insinuated I was some fugitive serpentist!" I laughed. "The council room is full of men, who can verify that they saw ample evidence of my womanhood, as my clothes burned around me during my self-defence." To cap my speech, I explained the incoming Tamsi fleet and how I had been absolutely right to strike first. "Do not despair!" I told them. "We have a fighting chance. It requires courage, tenacity and diligence worthy of your ancestors. All the just gods are on our side, but they do not reward indolence. And cowardice they only detest." On my way down to the harbour, I gave more of the little speeches. The content didn't truly matter. They only needed to see lord Mulkava defeated and humiliated in the cart, which I had requested. The mud of the streets had grown too soft to drag a large man through. A shadow sped over the street and up the wall. With a start, I looked into the sky. The large bird --an eagle, definitely-- circled over us. A shiver went down my spine. I glanced at Mulkava. He seemed barely conscious, and in his condition his chants wouldn't be heard by the forces of the sky. Still, I needed to hurry, lest he die out on me. Standing on an auction platform in the harbour, I must have made quite the apparition. A tall woman with clawed hands and scaled talons for feet, wearing charred black armour. The astonishment of my crowd mingled with awe and dread thick enough to taste. While Mulkava's barely breathing hulk was dragged over the piers, I gazed into the leafless forest of the ancient masts. What could be seen of the ships was archaic design, yet the construction remained abundantly sophisticated and smooth. If the Attisans had known the origin of the odd derelicts, they would have reconsidered living so near of them. It didn't matter any more. I was about remove the issue. Lord Mulkava made a great sacrifice. Powerful spirit, noble lineage, old friend and distant blood kin. I couldn't know, if it was mutual, but there was even bodily attraction. Were circumstances completely different, we could have been lovers. Well, Mulkava had given up the chance of that, when he sided with foreign tyrants against his own people. Most importantly, he had betrayed me. I let the anger flow through my soul, like a warm breeze into a bonfire. But I couldn't get into the right mood by merely hating Mulkava. He was a fool, only worth mild annoyance. Who I hated was the Fulgurite Prince and his 'kindly' gods. They wanted me to submit, just as they wanted to 'heal' my Father. But he needed fixing as much as a former slave needed shackles. He was free and powerful, and the kindly gods were right to fear him. The world was changing, ever faster. All seers worth their tongue knew it. Perhaps Father would consume the world, as it was said. Maybe He would set us all free. I couldn't know: my mind was that of a mortal and infinitely distant from the thoughts of a true god. Mulkava sunk to his last journey into the murky water, while I chanted in a language much older than Ekrish. The tongue had lost its potency from disuse, but those to whom I spoke to needed to hear their own words. It was a simple song: feast on the soul offered and give up your vigil. To the sunken prisoners I sang that service to me would be their freedom. Hopefully their minds were too deteriorated to make the difference between liberty and slavery. Any change was just as alien and welcome to the static captives of a primordial vengeance. The spirits of the lake heeded me, and the water in the harbour frothed and seethed. A cry of terror rose among the crowd, as the masts began to rise. Out of the lake appeared a small fleet of elegant ships. Despite the ages underwater, barely any detritus covered their sleek black wood. For a moment, translucent shapes writhed as if in agony on the top decks. They quickly faded and dropped the oars they had been holding, but the oars sticking out from below deck kept their places. The new core of my fleet wasn't enough to beat the Tamsi, especially as the oarsmen were in no shape to fight, but it would give us a chance. We also had Mulkava's galley, a large vessel suitable to be a river queen's flagship. I told a harbour official to arrange the re-equipping of the resurfaced ships, but not to bother with new sails on them. Additionally, I advised against looking under the deck, unless they desired to experience the swift work of deathly wrath. The townsfolk were over worst of their fright, and a turbulent sea of people filled the harbour market. All eyes stared at me, but I only noticed one pair. Sulme's head poked over the throng. The masses tried to get closer, only to be stopped by the crossed halberds of my guard. My heart leaped. For the first time I was aware of the changes in my body. The Nilkoan might understandably find my inhuman parts off- putting. I looked at my palm. Instead the rough pink skin, I had large, smooth and pale scales like the belly of a reptile. At least I still had arms. The people around the platform continued to stare at me, strangely silent for such a large crowd. They must have heard the Tamsi tales about possessed fiends. Though unlike in those fables, I wasn't in the process of being crushed by the kindly gods despite the clear day sky above me. I was an abomination to them. Perhaps I had mistaken their fear for respect and missed the disgust hidden in it. The weariness hit me like a wave. Even Umu was spent from breaking the unseen shackles, which had bound the ancient soldiers to the lake bottom. Aanu burned in my veins. I commanded her to my hand and pushed her into the pistol still in its immaculate holster. "I must rest," I said to the militia captain. "Help me through the crowd." My soldiers didn't need to get rough, as the townsfolk willingly spread off my way. I headed towards the direction, in which I had seen Sulme, but he wasn't to be found. He must have returned to the townhouse, so I too headed there. At the house, I gave my gunners some orders, more to show my authority than of any real need. The captain left two burly men at the door, and I went inside. Sulme wasn't there. I turned to my page. "Go get Sulme." I paused. "No, go ask him to come here." The boy nodded and disappeared out of the door. For a moment I fidgeted in place. My three house servants stood in a tight family clump, doing their best not to stare. I swallowed my annoyance, as I was quite the sight. "Help me out of this armour and fetch me something clean to wear." I did my best to smile kindly. "D-do you need a bath?" the father squeaked. "No, thank you, but I could use a bucket of warm water." After they got over the initial shock, the mother and daughter helped me out of my scorched attire. Because their eyes were stuck on my scaled limbs and tail, which had grown to the size of my forearm, they didn't notice how I stared at what was between my legs. My self-examination was ended before it began, as the mother brought me a set of linen underwear and an undyed wool gown. "Would you like something to eat, good lady?" the mother asked, after I was dressed. "We were about to start preparing dinner, when you arrived. While the oven is warm, I can make you what you want." I was more hungry than a mortal should be. "No need. I'll eat with you." The pair stared at me, so I continued: "If that suits you." The mother smiled, but she had to strain herself to do it. "Of course it suits us." Our dinner started quiet and stiff, but eventually the family relaxed in my presence. They spoke about very mundane things between themselves. I kept my mouth shut except for the simple but filling meal. The chance to act like a normal human was quite welcome. CHAPTER 13 I didn't want to risk going outside in my irresolute state, lest I were forced to hold yet another speech. My words would surely falter like embers in the wind. Instead, I retreated to my room to brood. To calm my nerves, I nursed a cup, which I kept full of rather rancid but delicious wine. In the fight with Mulkava and afterwards, I had been Umu. Yet I still remembered Ryymi's life as it was mine. Try as I might, my memories held no previous life as Umu the spirit, only phantasmal images and fleeting chthonic knowledge. The sky darkened, but Sulme was still out. He might have gotten into trouble, but that sort of thing would surely have been noticed. Besides, he could handle himself. I wouldn't embarrass myself by running around shouting his name, only to find him drinking with some long lost friend he had chanced to find. When I heard heavy steps coming up the stairs, my wait had felt like it had gone forever. I stiffened and considered standing up, before deciding to look as I had been busy, sitting on my arse. The door opened, and Sulme walked in. He had what seemed to be a new warcoat loose on him. I couldn't stay still, so I went to him. The man's eyes averted mine. I stopped half a step away from him. "Where were you?" I asked, sounding much more demanding than I would have preferred. My hand had risen to touch his chin, but with the sharp claws the gesture didn't have the tenderness I intended. Sulme took a deep breath and turned his eyes towards me. "The smith wanted to give me a fresh coat to replace my old one. Retailoring the plates took a while." "What's the matter?" I stepped to him. Sulme flinched ever so lightly. My eyes got caught on my raised hands. The insides of my torso twisted. How did he dare to be so understandably superficial? The Nilkoan straightened his frame. "Who are you? You wear a familiar face, but in the deeper mirage you are a coiled bonfire. I heard, what you did today... Mulkava was your enemy, but he and Ryymi were friends once." Mulkava hadn't deserved any mercy. Fortunately for Sulme, I was too sluggish to lash out before realising my temper. "So..." I drew my mouth into a line. "You think your friend is finally possessed. Just another serpentist, who lost themselves." "No. You are different from the rest. I can see it." Sulme frowned like sad little animal. "But I fear what will happen, if I stay close to you. At the harbour today, even among the dread and awe, my feelings from yestereve weren't gone." "But those emotions are not lost to me either!" Again I reached for the man, but before he had chance to retreat, I clasped my hands together and looked down. "I spent the whole evening waiting for you, Sulme." Firm but gentle hands grabbed my shoulders. I opened my eyes into Sulme's intense gaze. "Are you still yourself?" he asked. "Are you Ryy--?Teissa behind those eyes?" It would have been so much easier, had I been Umu and nothing else. I needed to be Her: the imperturbable, resolute, powerful. She would not have cared about one feeble mortal like Sulme. She wouldn't have wasted time pretending to be a human as the guest of a family dinner. She would have shed the rest of mortality, which bound her. Umu would have been nothing but the might of flames. Despite my fire, I needed the warmth of Sulme's body. Though I had Umu's power, I wanted to be held in his protective embrace. The high-flowing goals, the rage against unjust gods, was hollow, if I couldn't be with him. All those were my mortal weakness. Umu hadn't corrupted me. I tainted Her, like a carcass thrown in the sacred fire of a temple. "I cannot say I am your Teissa," I whispered. "Perhaps it would be best, if you left." "You don't want me to go," Sulme said. "No." I tried to smile, but my mouth wavered. Fortunately Sulme relieved me from the embarrassing effort, by pressing his lips on mine. He was a fool to stay, and I was thankful. The man pulled back and stared at me with that faint smile on his face. "Then I'll stay." The Nilkoan hadn't eaten a proper meal since morning, so he asked the servants to bring upstairs whatever was available. During his meal, we didn't talk much. The little what we said was about innocuous things like the food or his new wool-plated steel coat. I was content to gaze at him, while trying to understand my infatuation. Yes, he was tall and strong, but not notably so. Many men were bigger than him. Status and wealth he lacked, even if his mother was esteemed among her own people. A thrifty painter wouldn't have remained overly true to life while doing Sulme's portrait. Without my bias, his narrow-faced countenance was rather peculiar. Especially those large eyes kept catching mine. "Can I still call you 'Teissa'?" Sulme asked. A pleasant tingling went through my chest. I smiled. "You may." Something sharp scratched my cheek. I noticed that I was resting my jaw on my hands. Hurriedly, I hid the claws back under the table. Ever so slightly, Sulme's smile widened. My face warmed. Unfortunately I lacked the control required to stop myself from blushing. "This is not, how I imagined my return to be," he said. "Oh. What did you expect?" Sulme remained silent for a while. "That I would find the same woman, who gave the speeches and raised the dead today. I prepared to be forced on my knees to swear fealty to you." I grinned. "We can still do that, if you want to." The Nilkoan yawned, which I mirrored. "It's getting late," he said. "Let's postpone any shows of submission to tomorrow." "Very well." After taking off my gown, but leaving on my underwear, I hurried under the blankets. For some reason, I wasn't comfortable showing my body to him, even if Sulme hadn't shown any signs of disgust. It was relieving that he didn't consider my form abhorrent. Yet what sort of man wasn't disturbed by a monstrous visage such as mine? Perhaps he truly had inherited twisted 'tendencies' from his father. I had only seen his mother in her perfectly human form, but it was clear that was far from the body she preferred to wear. With my tail, it was more comfortable to lie slightly on my side. The tail would likely continue to grow, and eventually I might lose my legs. In the anti-serpentist woodblock prints overseas, the possessed abominations had a thick snake-tail in place of their lower half. But so did some old carvings of the certain lesser kindly gods. Sulme scrubbed his skin with a damp rag, before getting underneath the blankets with me. I was glad for his warmth, as our room was quite chilly despite the house's oven being almost underneath. I closed my eyes. The silly insecurity that had shackled me earlier had faded, and sleep crept ever closer. So did the man next to me. I kept my eyes closed, but my breath quickened. Heavy heartbeat filled my chest, but it failed to pump vigour into my weary limbs. A hand touched mine. "I thought I lost you." Sulme's voice was bordering on frail. "You should have made sure before assuming such." I turned my smile wry. The man's weight shifted next to me. His warm breathing brushed my hair. "They said that your clothes were burned." Sulme moved his thumb around my hand. "But nobody noticed..." "I must have changed my form in the crucible of Aanu, based on instinctive desire." I clutched Sulme's wrist and moved his hand to my crotch. Embarrassingly enough, the linen was damp under the touch of his finger. Pleasant shivers went through me, and the new parts of my anatomy moved in unfamiliar but welcome manner. Sulme drew a sharp breath. "Is it..?" "I think so, but I did lack the opportunity to examine myself." I opened my eyes, looked at bewildered Sulme and said: "Would you want to do it? My body is tired, yet women can enjoy the act without being particularly active." The man jerked towards me, but caught himself. "Right now?" I chuckled. "Why not?" Sulme hesitated for two deep breaths and clambered on top of me. His eyes had both frantic light and doubt. I closed my eyes and let him puzzle it out. Slowly, a hand moved up my thigh to pile the hem to my waist. My cheek was kissed, though that meant good part of the man's weight was awkwardly on me. A hard rod was between us, instead of going where it should. I grabbed his member, mostly to see, how he'd reach to the touch of my scales. Strangely enough, a throb indicated excitement. With my help, Sulme's spear found its destination. My gates stretched open, eliciting a gasp from me. The tinge of discomfort was washed from the way of clean stretching pleasure. The man made a tentative thrust, tried to find a better position and humped a few times. His administrations were clumsy enough that I started to believe I actually was his first womanly conquest. No dalliances with a servant's girl, no older noblewoman taking advantage of him, no desperate payment for a night's passing rut. Just me. Sulme tried to find a rhythm, though it resembled a child's attempt to churn butter: forceful pushes interspersed with odd ineffectual prodding. "You may put more of your weight on me," I said. "I am not made of glass." My man pressed against me. I was secure under his brawn and trapped under his weight. The sensations from masculine member plunging into my depths were merely an additional if delightful perk of our love. I leaned my head back on the pillow and concentrated on enjoying myself. "Does this feel good?" Sulme asked. His breath was ragged. "It does." I had been lying still as a fish, at least a quarter asleep. However, Sulme apparently needed encouragement. I began to moan with each of his strong, exaggerated movements. A shudder went through the bulk on top of me. Sulme's hips pushes against mine, almost uncomfortably hard. A surge of his virile energy poured into my soul and stifled my breath. As he withdrew, a new wetness had joined our liquids. "Ah..." Sulme rose from top of me. "Did you climax?" "No, but that is fine. You will have to fondle me." "Alright." Sulme lay next to me, and I moved against his side. His hands returned to my crotch, to pet and brush and squeeze. He really had no idea, what he was doing, but for me it was enough that he was so willing to try. The built-up pressure released into a glow, almost as bright as Aanu, but infinitely more pleasant. I drifted again towards dreams, when Sulme spoke. "Sorry. I shouldn't have... let myself flow into you." I croaked a tired guffaw. "You did not seem 'sorry', while doing it, goodman. Far from it. I think you did the deed eagerly." "I'm sorry. At the moment, I didn't consider it." A part of the earlier heat flickered inside my abdomen. Umu was fire, and fire desired to spread. As a corporeal being I couldn't extended myself directly. Instead, I would have to propagate in the human way. "Such concerns are pointless. I do desire your spawn." "What?" "I mean that I would not mind starting a family with you. It only makes sense. I already know, what sort of man you are. You deserve the best." "But you are tangled in politics now," Sulme said. "You will have to marry advantageously to some lord or prince." "No. I will not get tangled in the social games of human politics. I want you--" I was startled by a flurry of motion around me. Sulme wrapped his arms around me in tight embrace. In spite of the awkwardness of the position, I giggled. "Do you mind, if I hug you back?" I asked. Sulme let out an amused breath. "Sure." After I got my arms around him, I twined my fingers together avoid clawing the warm man in my embrace. CHAPTER 14 Though I didn't remember having been noticeably drunk, I woke to the drink's wrath banging inside my skull. Dried stains on my thighs and crotch made my skin acutely dirty. At first I thought my lower back hurt, until I realised the pain was in my tail. A quick check revealed the appendage had grown both in length and girth. "Good morning," Sulme said. He was already up, though hadn't yet fully dressed. "Good morning." I pulled the blanket off me. The smell was faint, but strong enough to make me wince. I should have washed myself, before passing out. I still had my limbs, which was useful. The scales hadn't spread much beyond my elbow or any higher than my upper thighs. But my remaining four toes were bigger with nastier talons. A mostly human body was still far from Umu's preferred shape. My desires involving Sulme must have tied me to humanity. My current form still had advantages to my ambitions. The coming work was that of a human leader, not of a lesser divinity. And the 'kindly' gods might take objection were I to reveal myself fully. Yes, Sulme's love served a purpose. Let me be anchored to humanity, at least a little longer. A few weeks, a year or even a generation. As I stood up, I found myself slightly disoriented. "Come here," I said to Sulme. The man was amused, but obeyed. He stood right in front of me, and I could see my suspicion had been correct. "It appears I have grown in height," I said. My eyes were almost at Sulme's level. Instinctively, I leaned forward to stand on my toes and the balls of my feet. Due to the changed shape, the posture didn't compromise my balance. I was Sulme's height, perhaps even a little taller. Yet he didn't show any unease with the development. Instead, he gave me a quick kiss. "You should hurry with your morning routine," he said. "People were already asking for you at the break of dawn." "At this time of year, sunrise might as well still be considered night." Sulme smiled. "Not everyone can sleep easy, when an armada is on the way to enslave them." "I know the cure for uneasy nights: hard work, lots of it." I walked to the wash basin and gingerly began to clean myself. "Unfortunately we do not have enough time for drilling do much good. But if we win this first clash, my soldiers will know the drillmaster's bark and bite, this I promise." "'If' we win?" Sulme walked to me. He took a rag and began to scrub my back. "Not even I am mad enough to think victory is ever guaranteed," I said. "I do think we have a good chance at it. The Prince's lakewater fleet was not overly huge, and he will not dare to commit all of it against us. With the terrain advantage, favour of the local spirits and the loftier motive of our troops, we can beat them." The day was busy, but no mountains appeared for me to move. The Attisans had been enlivened into action, and many of the notables were eager to help lead the war preparations. Even if only a few of them had ever been military men, they had a good grasp of organising supplies, messages, travels and gatherings. Their understanding was certainly more thorough than mine. I could concentrate on wringing out any extra advantage I could get. We had time to prepare. Though big sailing ships with rows of oars were fast, the whole armada would move ponderously slow through the narrow straits. My main priority was planning the battlefield. The local semi- Ekran knights were more than willing to work as heavily armed scouts and foragers. I also sent smaller boats towards the enemy fleet, to spread our word and track the enemy fleet's progress. As the symbol of our ghastly enterprise, it was my responsibility to keep up the fighting spirit. For that, I held a worship at a smaller shrine. I was washing my hands from the blood of a sacrificed young goat, when a young man walked to me. He had managed to pass my guards, which roused my suspicions. A knife flashed out of his sleeve. Instinct lifted my forearm between us. Before he could strike again, he was dead from a poleaxe to the back of his head. The blade had hit straight into my arm, yet there was no wound. A short examination revealed that my scales were quite impervious to cuts. It was armour; light, flexible but strong. Though a local through and through, the youth turned out to have been a fervent supporter of the Tamsi faith. I kept the information to myself. The last thing I needed was spreading hysteria about hidden Tamsi murderers. Not only would a heretic hunt take manpower from much more important matters, as long as the furtive Tamsi kept supporting their town, they were an asset. After the war calmed a bit, I would have to arrange their worship back into public to keep track of them. The first boat scouts returned some days later, with surprisingly good news. The Prince's fleet had been delayed, as more fighting had erupting near the coast. Turned out the Ekran clans hadn't been quite as subdued as I had thought. Not all of them had betrayed their land, faith and people for mere temporary safety. I made sure to spread the news. Our soldiers and war-worthy boats trickled in slowly. First came the zealous volunteers, armed with more faith than skill or proper arms. They threatened to be more nuisance than use. I assigned them into a company by themselves and let a handful of Attisan veterans drill them mercilessly. By the evenings they were too tired to cause trouble. As the news of the fighting spread, raiding folk from the Nango border trickled in. They had good boats and sturdy men, but their equipment was woefully old though elaborate. They would be worth the plunder they'd eventually ask for, especially if most of them died, which wasn't something I loathed to arrange. From a densely forested region not marked in any maps, I received a large group of men styling themselves 'knights', even though they rode elks and preferred the bow over the lance. I wasn't going to turn down cavalry, no matter how unconventional, especially when they were content to camp far away from the town and barely bothered the peasants for food. The Attisans convinced the other towns in Isso to join the war. Those settlements sent their good vessels and militia companies. Though it didn't constitute a huge army, they were accompanied by a handful of men with limited training as serpentists. Apparently the Vonir control on the fire arts hadn't stuck outside Attisa. Needless to say, they were eager to serve. As mere acolytes in what I embodied, the petty serpentists had plenty to learn from a worthy mistress. My army grew larger but also noticeably more of an uneven patchwork than I had expected. We couldn't wait any longer, if we wanted to reach the strait at the old Kauku fort, before the Tamsi arrived. I chose the place not only for its convenient marshy and forested terrain, but also as a potential symbol. If I could keep the Tamsi out of Isso, it only followed that I should be able to keep them out of the whole Ekran land. The winds and waters favoured us with speed. I travelled in front, onboard Mulkava's ship, renamed to 'Hierodule'. My fighting crew was picked from the Attisan handgunners and halberdiers, with a few of the serpentist, who had familiarity with cannon. For rowers I had declined to keep the Tamsi captives. I needed everyone on my ship ready to swing an axe or knife at the enemy, even if they weren't much good at it. Thus my rowers were a mix of lakemen and the biggest peasant volunteers with even a little experience in rowing. With Hierodule in the vanguard came the ancient black ships from the city below Attisa. Despite lacking sails, their steady rowing kept up with my ship through day and night. Their fighting crews were mostly of the zealous volunteers, as anybody else would have been too troubled by what was below deck. After a sermon from me, my fanatics had appeared quite pleased by their task. Many of them started a habit of praying with an ear on the planks to the rowers below as their ancestors. I didn't correct them. Rest of my fleet followed a few miles way back to give them room to move between the isles. Our meagre cavalry took the long route over land. They would try to ford over the smaller rivers, but there was no knowing, if they would make it in time. I shared Hierodule's tiny cabin with the ship's new captain, Sulme the Nilkoan. His assured conduct showed no signs that it was his first command of a large vessel. The cabin had only one bed, but we made good use of it. Waves lapped at the hull, and the wood groaned gently in the lake's embrace. I listened to Sulme's calming breath. I lay on top of the man, letting the result of our love ooze on him. He didn't seem to mind that I must have been near his weight. My frame had kept growing, and I was a few inches taller than the man even without standing on my toes, a stance which had become more natural with every new morning. My tail had the weight of a good meaty leg. It was accordingly strong, but not dextrous enough to be particularly useful. As I got more used to the counterweight, the tail did start to help with my balance. "Are you still comfortable there, little mortal?" I asked. Sulme murmured a laugh. My teasing couldn't perturb him. But I knew something, which would get a reaction out of the Nilkoan. "You know..." I whispered. "It has been quite a while, and my feminine cycle has caused nothing visible. Either my body does not work in the way of mortal women or..." The man stiffened. "Do you mean you might be..?" "It is possible." I slid off him to lay on his side. "In fact, I do hope so." Sulme shifted his jaw. "Can you truly desire that already? You have been a wo-- in a female body for only a few weeks." I frowned. Umu had always been female, as much as spirits could be. And as Ryymi I had thought about family, but my tendencies had hampered it. But I had considered marrying, despite my minimal desire to spend my life with a woman, as means of having progeny. "Do you not want it?" I asked. "I-- You-- This--" Sulme sighed. "Look... I haven't given it much thought. Besides, the war will last quite some time. I don't want to be anxious about anyone else as much I worry about you." He kept thinking I was in need of care-taking. And yet, my heart fluttered from the love behind the concern. "Well, you might have to. Worry, I mean." I traced up my lower abdomen with a claw. The skin was still vulnerably human. Perhaps Sulme was right in his disquiet. An image flickered into my mind, of me lying in a cave, with armoured scales protecting my distended belly and its precious contents. Though the notion was strange, a smile spread my lips. If only the transformation wasn't an one-way journey. I had tried to will my existing changes to reverse themselves, to no effect. I turned to lay against Sulme's side. Strong arms wrapped themselves around me, and I closed my eyes to listen the breath in the chest below my ear. "Then I will worry," he whispered. CHAPTER 15 I stood at the top of the rickety tower of Kauku fort and surveyed the terrain. The Tamsi would arrive to the small lake below from a narrow strait, while our side retained some space to manoeuvre. The hill on which Kauku stood was flanked by patches of marshy terrain in all directions save the water. Rest of the surrounding land consisted of thick spruce forest, which hid uneven terrain too wet and rocky for either farms or pasture. The six cannon, which had been dragged to the fort, could extend their deadly influence to the mouth of the strait. Of course, that was without a serpentist's touch. I left the most experienced of the Issoan serpentists --a hoary wild-eyed commander Piise-- to lead the small detachment at the fort and returned to my ship. On the morning of the second day at Kauku, an unfamiliar boat appeared in view. In the early afternoon, Tamsi ships began to pour into the strait, but no further. The Tamsi fleet numbered almost twice our size, and the ships themselves were bigger than most of ours. To add to my woes, the foreign mercenaries and hardened Tamsi soldiers would be better equipped than us. I could only hope the mercenaries were disinclined to wear their heavy armour in a battle over water. Brave men like mine always had a chance, and I said as much in my speech. Most of my soldiers weren't close enough to hear my words, so it was only necessary that I sounded confident, as I yelled at the prow of Hierodule. After acknowledging that, yes, the Tamsi had an advantage in numbers, I told them that it mattered not, as our ancestors fought with us. The Tamsi would die for their distant tyrant and the fear of his lash. The Ekrans struggled for freedom and for the safety of their families. Any veterans would be familiar with the drivel, but perhaps they'd assume the motif was traditional instead of unimaginative. At the end, I promised that anyone, who died with sufficient glory, would be whisked to a blessed afterlife. There their souls would be purified from the dross of sin and shackles of desire. Might as well. Nobody would be able to claim contrawise with any confidence. A roar carried over the lake, as Kauku fort shot its cannon. Save for one shell, which ignited the deck of a small ship too forward, our projectiles struck the water in front of the Tamsi fleet. I held my breath, as I waited for the Tamsi reaction. They might think that with their numerical advantage they would be able to handle a few cannon raining fire on them. Out of necessity, I had counted on their fleet being too precious to be spent so frivolously. It turned out I had anticipated the Tamsi correctly. Several of their ships moved to the shore and began unloading soldiers on the side with the fort. The strait became clogged with half-beached vessels. The steel shone on the Tamsi soldiers between the trees. Like ants they filled the wooded shore and swarmed to the swamp separating them from the fort. I gave the command to advance. As Hierodule unfurled its sails, the cannon on the hill thundered again. This time the shells hit in midst of the tightly packed Tamsi ships. Commander Piise truly had the touch of raging fire. The Tamsi troops on the shore picked up pace. Just as they stepped on the hungry wetness of the marsh, swift shapes of large beasts burst from the shadows of the treeline. My cavalry appeared to harass the infantry ranks with bow and spear. At my command, Hierodule dropped anchor in the middle of the lake near the swampy shore. Our onboard cannon, bows and handguns greeted the Tamsi soldiers. Through the hail of iron, the foemen advanced with apparent determination. The haunted black ships rowed past Hierodule. With a wild cheer they surged towards to buy me time with their zeal and lives. In a sickening rumble of splintering wood, they smashed into the advancing enemy ships. More of our ships with guns and bowmen lined around Hierodule. Shots from the Tamsi cannon whined around us, bellowing flame when they hit one of our decks. Masts splintered, and many a vessels caught fire or began to sink. The air was a stinging soup of brimstone and smoke. An imposing war galley pushed through the black ships. Soon it was joined by others, and more of our vessels were forced to engage in hand- to-hand, in which our lightly equipped troops were at disadvantage. Despite the hail of bullets and arrows, the enemy infantry on the shore reached the base of the hill. Soon enough the fort would be taken, and its cannon turned at us. "Do it now, commander," I whispered. And he did. The monstrous explosion rocked the ships on the water. Even I flew off my feet. Kauku fort had turned into a majestic bonfire, worthy the glory of my Father. Thus denied an advantageous position, the Tamsi troops on the shore were out of the battle. I stumbled up, lifted Klakki and shouted the command to ram into the fray. Many men died, both by me and for me. Ships, their crews massacred and exhausted, disengaged from the battle and withdrew like limping beasts. Fighting ended for the day. The tired red Sun peeked between the horizon and the black cloud-cover above us. The breeze indicated a storm was growing to challenge us. Yet our enemy hadn't needed their gods. Looking at the ragged fleet around me, it was clear the Tamsi had had the better of the fighting. The only thing, which had saved us, was the lack of room to properly surround our forces. All was not lost. The enemy had lost major portion of their heavy infantry. Though they had more ships, many of them would crewed solely by rowers and cowards. I sat at the stern deck and sung iron to undo its wrath, as I cradled Sulme's head on my lap. During the worst of the fighting, he had been hit by an arrow to the hip. The fool claimed that he was alright despite the obvious pain he was in. Because his armour had stopped the arrow from penetrating further than the bone, I almost believed him. "The Vonir have sent a message," said a man in the war council, whose name I had forgotten. "The terms for our surrender." I glared at the man. "What does it say?" The councillor hesitated. Though it was getting dark, I could see the fear on his face. It didn't suit the blood on his armour. "That all who leave will be absolved of any blame. They only want to capture the... 'possessed abomination, who so cruelly burned the innocent freelady of Issoan March'." I kept my laugh inside. Regardless of the wording, a pardon like that was uncharacteristic. It might have been a sign of desperation... Unlikely considering the situation. A calculated move then. If the rumours of a pardon spread, a major part of my fleet might use the midnight to make their escape. To balk from so much death was understandable. The bloodletting had been fierce even for the stomach of seasoned soldiers. The councillor had presented the terms with a hidden plea to me. He asked me to surrender, so rest could live. I swallowed my anger, before it turned into fire. I couldn't show myself to be unreasonable or uncaring of the suffering of my soldiers. They had fought valiantly, more so than I had expected of them. Of course, my surrender would save none of them. Should our forces disband, the Tamsi were free to hunt us down at their leisure. To my brave Issoans, who had been shaken by the day-long battle, the truth wouldn't be so damned obvious. Perhaps they believed the Vonir had mercy for their kind. I leaned down and gave Sulme's lips a sloppy upside down kiss. I whispered: "I love you." Sulme stared at me, baffled and possibly dazed from the burned wine he drank for the pain. I gently moved his head off my lap and stood up. "Go fetch me a boat," I commanded the councillor. The man flinched as if from a blow. "You will surrender?" "No. I shall negotiate in the only tongue the Tamsi heed." Sulme struggled to sit. He failed and let out a short whimper of agony. I knelt and pressed his chest down. "You need to rest, captain," I said. For long heartbeats our eyes locked. Physical pain turned into mental anguish in Sulme's expression. We both knew, I wouldn't return. "I won't abandon you, Teissa," he insisted. "And you will not." I unclasped Klakki's sheath from my weapon belt and put the weapon next to Sulme. "I need you to take this to my family. The human one." Klakki was a fine sword but had little true importance. Sulme needed a duty, for an excuse to remain and to help work through the inevitable grief. Before Sulme could try to sit up again, I reached down and held his head against mine. The man drew sharp inward breaths, and I didn't remain entirely composed myself. Through slow synchronised breaths, we managed to calm each other. "I love you," Sulme whispered. I smiled and let go off him. The Nilkoan took as authoritative position as a lying man could have and bellowed: "What are you tarrying for? The lady wanted a boat." Everyone within hearing distance burst into motion, even if they didn't have anything useful to do. I held Aanu in my hand and stood on the small boat. While taking off my armour, I had gifted my witchlock pistol to my page. Despite the day's horrors, the youth had managed to show certain grim enthusiasm. He'd have to find his own fire, though. Aanu was mine. The calm waters ignored the dead tainting it. Some of those souls still obeyed my heed. I didn't need oars to move my boat towards the Tamsi ships. I kept my posture straight, even though tears wetted my cheeks. I needed to show imperturbable confidence to those, who watched the small fire slip across the gloomy lake. Angry red embers lingered in the ruins of Kauku fort. It was rather shocking, how puissant of a wrath the fidgety old commander had managed to unleash. His age hadn't consumed the strength of his will. It was my weakness, which had kept me clinging on to a meek human form. My fellow serpentist at Surtalm had been consumed by fear, yet they had decided to fight regardless. They had lashed at the world with all their rage and strength. I had merely dropped my gun in middle of reloading and prayed to all the gods to preserve me from the fire. That was why I was still alive. My weakness had saved me. The flames held dread for me no longer. With a short prayer to my Father, I let Aanu fall on the boat. Shouts carried over the still lake, but I hardened my heart from the familiar voices in it. The boat became a pyre. My clothes were engulfed in flames. A deep breath filled my lungs with smoke, pleasantly warming me from the inside. My mouth twisted, as the feeble human flesh caught fire. Yet the agony was overshadowed by elation. Like steel, I was first hardened by the fire and then tempered by the lake, until the purposeful consistency was found. Laughter broke from my strained throat, though the sounds was low rippling shriek. Aanu hissed in agony as the waters claimed her. The evening grew dark again. My new mass sunk the charred remains of the boat. A powerful tail propelled my twisting body through the water. Like a storm tide, I glided towards the Tamsi. Soldiers screamed, when I lifted myself from the water to the deck of a ship. For the first time, I tasted the flesh of men. With a seething rage, I called the flames from a handgun's match to crown and wreathe me. I extended my body to show my splendour to all. Even without much more than lifting my head, I reached halfway up the tall mast of the galley. The gunpowder caught fire. Its heat caressed my scales. I left the sinking boat and moved on to the next one. The hounds of the Tamsi tried to fight me, but their bravery was sheer foolishness. It took a while for them to understand that their weapons of iron bothered me less than gnats. A cannonball might have hurt me, but their serpentine powder served me and destroyed those who wished me harm. Nobody fought fire with fire and survived. With strong sweeps of my tail I crushed bones and wood. I coiled around steel-clad men and squeezed out their last breaths. My flames devoured flesh and ships. Tamsi singers of great potency made an attempt at subduing my spirit. A buzz of flies. I was no incorporeal phantasm. Even had they gained power over my soul, they had no shackles for my earthly thews. Yet one song rang in my ears, like huge bells hammered in a cave. Mighty words of freezing harmony and acrid justice. Of strength drawn from self-denying discipline and mindless obedience. Of the binding power of unwise oaths. The singer shone in my vision as bitterly cold and appallingly colourless light. I smashed the aftercastle of the ship I was on, plunged into the water and surged towards the heroic singer. His galley was one of the biggest. The gilding on the intricate woodwork glinted in the light of my fire, until it melted as glowing tears. The noble warrior continued his song, even as his comrades jumped overboard or perished. He wore armour of gold and steel, lined with opulent white furs. His sword was a curved shard of moonlight. In his eyes burned defiance and valour. Gone was the indolent freelord I had known. I mocked him, this Tamsi hero, until I realised that he didn't understand my speech. Through some effort, I turned my sibilant voice into human words: "Meek man mortal making his stand, in his conquest of my own land. For naught he strives with sword and song, as the serpent scorching waxes strong. Hark now, foolish Tamsi warrior! Only oblivion awaits, this gold lord at the straits." The Tamsi stopped his singing and moved his sword between us in an amusing gesture of supposed potency. Had I been able, I would have smiled. "You speak, worm," he said, still resolute. I lowered my head against the planks and moved my nose just into the striking distance of his sword. "You find that surprising?" "Not at all. You would need a tongue to incite this revolt, to command lawless butchery and to spread your fell lies." "What do you know of falsehood, you servant of a grand fabrication?" I licked the air. There was fear in his scent. "Besides, truth is what we make it." "Indeed." The man's arm slashed at me. Too assured of myself, I didn't move aside. The blade cut through the scales of my snout. The steel burned as ice, and I howled. Fortunately merely lifting my head took me from the range of the bastard's foul sword. The wound stung, but it didn't debilitate me. "Come forth, worm of soot!" the Tamsi bastard yelled. "Do taste the steel blessed in our Prince's hand by the lord of lords Amsama." That, I didn't wish to do. "Die," I commanded. The heat of the burning ship caused a nearby loaded cannon to burst. Pieces of metal pierced through the insolent little man, and I swept him overboard. My laughter was cut short. Lightning streaked through the sky, sending a shiver through my long spine. Thunder spoke words of self-righteous fury. A shape like the blackest cloud surged at me. I wrestled with feathers of steel and long ivory talons. A lance of heavenly wrath struck me, shaking my whole great frame. Vision in my eyes dimmed. Before the world turned black around me, I saw the Ekran ships hurrying into the fray once more. PART V - Maternal Warmth CHAPTER 16 The lake was deeper than a sea. I continued to sink. There was no light above or anywhere. My mighty body had been reduced into a nerveless corpse. I couldn't escape the endless liquid darkness. I might have laughed. Now that I had finally done, what I had been willing to give my life for, I wasn't ready to die. "Are you here, Umu?" I asked without words. "In a way," the familiar deep voice said. "I did your bidding, you foul spawn of Numma. I became a liar, a murderer, an oathbreaker, a traitor, for you. The least you can do is to grant me life again." A laugh rumbled in the distance. "Are you this poorly tutored? I had no wishes of my own. You did not serve me." "Speak with clarity." She guffawed. "I am the spirit of unbridled fire, nothing more. I never had any will, self, consciousness, outside those of yours. When you spoke to me, you spoke to your own nature. Even this revelation is only in your own mind. You are Umu." "You lie." The voice chuckled. "That is true. You do lie." My anger flared, but it was as if bellows had blown into a dead fireplace. Only ash moved around in my soul. "Oh well," I said. "I hope the Ekrans win, so this was not all pointless. Though, if they have any sense, they would have escaped with their lives, when they saw me killed by Thunder and Lightning." "Their eyes are blind to the gods. From their point of view, you called heavenly fire to destroy the Vonir flagship." I chuckled. "Even in death I cannot help but be false." "Who says you are dead?" I started to question the imaginary speaker, but my lungs burned. I struggled, with human limbs again. They were stiff, leaden. The silt around me whirled, though I could barely see it in the impenetrable darkness. Even if I wasn't dead, I would soon be. The lake surface was far above. I needed to get to the air. Not just for my selfish reasons of getting back to Sulme. It wouldn't do if my child died, because its mother was weak. My legs managed to push against the bottom. I didn't float, and I had neither the physical strength to crawl myself upwards or the mental forced to summon help. It would be beyond bitter to die, after a flicker of hope. Senseless wishes had encouraged all my decisions. They had resulted in nothing but disappointment and misery. But in that black cold abyss, I had nothing else than a fool's optimism. Even though my feet touched the bottom again, I wouldn't let the water defeat me. "Let me help," a motherly voice, without malice or danger, said. "Breathe in." I had nothing else. I breathed my lungs full, not lakewater, but wet air. And I screamed. The blue spots surrounded me. Their lurid light illuminated a sprawling creature without determinable form or extend. "Don't be afraid," she said. "I will not hurt the mother of my child's child." I recognised the voice. "You are Sulme's mother!" Somehow, my own voice worked with barely any muting from the water. "Oh, you know me," Elti said. "Have we met?" Despite the situation, I found myself awkward. "We have met." She laughed like a cascade. "I take your word for it." "Wait... If you are here, why did you not assist your son? He fought and was wounded!" "I can't participate in this war between you surface-folk. Not even for my dear little frog. And besides, I don't sense that he is in any serious danger. He has been hurt before." This time he had been wounded because of me. Elti's appendages twined around me. "Let's get you to your element." My feet lost their contact with the bottom, but it was difficult to determine the direction of our movement. After a while, I asked: "Why are we going so slow?" "You surface folk tend to get ill, if taken too quickly out of our realm. The Abyss is the Mother to us all. You need to be weaned off from Her influence." A rippling light above gave our movement a direction. The gleam widened into a blue sky and the green pinnacles of a forest. The grip around me relaxed and disappeared. A wall of water remained between me and the air. The burn returned to my lungs. I had stifle my desperate gasp, as I struggled through the thick water. My legs kicked muddy soil, and my head burst through the surface. Gasping and retching, I crawled through shallow water and its reeds to the shore. The Sun hovered above the treeline, but in the wrong direction. I had spent the whole night underwater. Exhausted, I turned around and collapsed on my back in the wet sand. My skin was pallid and entirely scaleless. None of Umu's strength remained in my soul. "I'm sorry," the voice of Elti said. "I had to mantle a different shape for myself before surfacing." She stood beside me, eminently tall and limber. A gown of foam wrapped her, and her flesh was milky glass holding emerald liquid. Thick and lustrous lakeweed grew from her scalp. In her bluest of eyes was a hint of the shine she had emitted deep below. "Thank you for saving me," I said. "You're welcome. Though I had... my own cow in the ditch." "So..." I lifted a heavy hand to rest on my navel. "I am pregnant." "Yes, it does seem so." Her huge eyes stared into mine. "Try as I might, you don't seem familiar. I should think I'd recognise any girl my son had tried to woo. What's your name?" Even though I didn't lack anything a daughter-in-law could be expected to have, my words were stuck. As if merely acknowledging my past would turn me from a woman to something lesser. "My name is Teissa." I took a deep breath and continued: "I was Ryymi, but that changed." "Oh. Was this alteration forced on you?" "I chose this." At least I hoped I did. The lakewoman smiled wide. "That's good. Curses don't make for sound formations of families." "Were you here during the battle?" "Not for most of it." "Did you saw, what I was?" "If you think it matters to me, then you have already forgotten, what you saw at the bottom of the lake." "No, it is not that." Well, partly it was. "I wonder, why am I still alive? Kindly gods themselves struck me, and here I still breathe." "Who knows?" Elti shrugged. "They tend to keep to their place above humanity." "I feel they let me live, to have monsters to scare their herds, so they can justify their place as humanity's masters." Elti let out a tiny laugh. "Perhaps. But the motives of the kindly gods are often much more inhuman, simpler and primal than we'd like to think. Perhaps the bolt of lightning was attracted to your lofty head, instead of taking offence to the ideas inside it." Among the half-sunken and scorched wrecks, a sizeable fleet still floated on the lake. The vessels flew our colours, so I presumed we had won. A rowing boat came at us, with Sulme at the prow. I tried to sit up, but my body was too stiff. Elti leaned down and offered her hand. With her help, I managed to stand up. The boat hit land, and Sulme jumped into the ankle-deep water. Immediately he staggered. I reached forward and nearly tripped over, but Elti kept me up. Holding the side of his hip, Sulme limped to us. He nodded at Elti. "Hi, Mum." "Hello, Sulme." The Nilkoan held up a cloak. He wrapped it around me and embraced me tightly, but said not a word. I didn't either, as I had to concentrate on not sobbing in front of the audience. Sulme drew back. Though he smiled that faint smile, his well-like eyes poured with tears. "Are you alright?" he asked. "Yes." I gulped down the lump in my throat. "You shouldn't be up with that wound." "No, I shouldn't. Let's get back to the ship." Sulme turned his mother. "Are you staying upside, Mum?" "Yes, this seems like the occasion for a visit to my little boy." Elti gave me an amused glance. The two rowers, who had come with Sulme, helped me and him back to the boat, and we headed over the lake to Hierodule. Her loose sails hung ragged like the wings of an old butterfly, and the hull was scarred and blackened. Already men hung over the side, mending the damage. My body too could have used little nimble sprites to repair it. I lacked the strength to climb up even the relatively low ship, so getting me onboard was an embarrassing operation. There was no cheering. The crew's stares were silent. I couldn't exactly blame them for not treating me like a hero. Even if Umu's monstrous form had been seared away, her fell nature was still mine. "Let's get you to the cabin to rest," Sulme said. "No. I will speak to my soldiers. Help me to the stern deck." Up on the deck, I leaned on the rail and did my best to stand straight. The men waited quiet, which was fortunate, as I wasn't up to much shouting. "Ekran men!" I said. "I see that we have won. Though I had to spent my fire to deliver a decisive blow on the enemy, make no mistake. It was your courage and firm arms, which secured our victory." Unsure murmurs moved through my audience. But the eyes on me hardened, and weary but approving smiles appeared on the tired faces. I gestured at the lake around us. "Without you, there would be a lightly cooked fleet right here, ready to pillage your homeland. But because every one of you is worth two of the Tamsi, I only see our fleet. Pity the songwrights, who will have to keep the tales in the realm of remotely plausible." Laughter. They weren't too shocked for that. I relaxed a little and smiled myself. "Yet this is not the moment to grow complacent!" I strained my voice. "Your ancestors have seen your mettle. From now on they expect nothing less of you. The way to the gates of the capital lays open, but the walls remain guarded. Rest now, so you are ready to face the Tamsi again. Divide the loot, repair our ships. Remember the fallen, sacrifice to the gods and thank our ancestors. We will head towards the coast tomorrow." Next to me, a young voice shouted the name of Umu. My page had appeared out of the thin air, it seemed. The boy sure had zest. He needed a suitably honorary title. My page's cry was joined by the rest of the soldiers. They hadn't sensed my weakness, even though it was apparent in my body. CHAPTER 17 Sulme helped me to the bed in the cabin. "Do you need anything?" "The rest of a few long hours, and a huge meal afterwards." "Alright." He smiled. "I'll see to that. But now I must speak with my mother. We haven't seen in almost a year, and there's much to talk about." The Nilkoan kissed me and left. Hints of strength had crept back to my extremities, but my body remained cold and lethargic. I wrapped a blanket around myself and started, as the door slammed open. Sulme stepped into the cabin and closed the door behind him. His eyes were open wide. "Why didn't you tell me?" he demanded. "Tell you what?" "That you are with a child!" Sulme placed his arms on the bed and leaned over me. His expression filled frantic worry. "I... I waited for the right opportunity." I frowned. "She should not have told you." Sulme stood up and paced around the tiny room. "She can see more than we can, so I asked her about your health. Because she wouldn't lie to me..." He lifted his hands in a weird wavery gesture. "Gods, I could have lost both you..." I sat on the side of the bed. "I am sorry to upset you, Sulme." The man froze in place. He turned to me, with confused look on his face. "Upset?" He chortled small laugh and smiled. "That's the opposite of what I should be." Sulme sat right next to me. Our hands found each other and entwined. "Teissa," he whispered. "This must have been the worst night in my life. I was sure you died." "If it helps even a little, I thought so too." "The crew held a last prayer in your honour at the break of dawn. So you know, I wasn't the only one with teary eyes." "Oh, Inmo's mercy on me." I sighed. "They will think I came back from the dead." "Possibly." Sulme wrapped his arms around my waist. "Do you feel it?" "Feel wha-- The child you mean." He kissed my cheek. "Yes." I laughed. "No. In fact, I have no idea, how your mother could have known." "Maternal instinct, perhaps. You might get that soon." "Oh..." I shuddered. "Earlier this spring, your embrace was only a tender hidden wish. Now your touch is already yielding fruit." Sulme wrapped me into a tighter hold. "I'm glad to hear that you trust me." He let go off me and stood up. "You should rest. I'll bring food later." "Are you not tired?" I asked. "Maybe you should stay too." "Oh, I'd love nothing more. But the captain has duties. See you soon." The man left the cabin. I lay down and smiled to myself. The firm way he had called himself 'the captain' fluttered inside me. I was startled awake. Whatever had scared me so slithered back to where slain dreams lingered. Sulme stood at the cabin door with a bowl in both hands. "Hi. Did you get any rest?" The smells filled the cabin and wetted my mouth. "A little." I wrapped the blanket around me and moved to sit at the tiny table. Sulme placed the bowls on the table and sat on the other side. He pushed the vessel with bean porridge towards me while keeping the roasted piece of meat in front of himself. My stomach was a void, and I let him know my feelings with a glare. He merely smiled. "Go on. I'll cut this meat for you." "Oh!" My face warmed. "I thought you were going to eat the roast and leave me with mere beans." "I already ate at the shore." He cut a fatty piece and offered it to me. "The Vonir were stocked with provisions, so I thought it would be prudent to let our troops feast." With barely any chewing, I gulped the meat down. "Did they keep you in command?" I proceeded to spoon up the bean porridge. "They did. None of the men questioned my authority, even though I'm not exactly a corporeal spirit." "After seeing your mother, they will start to question, what exactly you are. How is she, by the way?" "Well. She has been talking to the crew and listening to their tales. The surface world is a bit of a hobby for her, though she comes upside rarely." "Have you..." I took another mouthful to give myself time to consider my words. "Have you seen her in the water?" Sulme's smile widened. "Yes. Her usual form does leave an impression." My gaze fell. "How about my form? How you can continue to treat me like this after the last night?" "I did say I would never abandon you." Sulme pushed another piece of the roast into my view. Nobody, especially not I, deserved such unconditional statements of loyalty. I frowned to myself. "Does that hurt?" Sulme held a finger to his cheek. I mirrored the gestured and found a new groove in my skin. "Damned wretch," I muttered. "The Tamsi freelord had a sword keen enough to cut into my spirit. No matter. The flesh has healed. Only my pride remains stung." "That's good. I mean, that you are bodily alright. Though I'd also prefer your pride remained untouched. I find it endearing." I drew my mouth into a line, but Sulme disarmed my exasperation with his smile. "There is something I need to tell you," I said. "Look at me in the deeper mirage." Sulme gave me an questioning look, until I browbeat him into obeying. He closed his eyes, took a seven deep breaths and said: "What am I supposed to see?" "Nothing. You said that I appeared as a 'weak-willed dullard'. That is what I am now. Umu is dead." Sulme opened his eyes. "That's not true. What about that speech you gave? That didn't seem weak-willed." I dismissed the thought with a gesture of my hand. "A receptive audience. Sulme, you need to take command. I am not up to it any more." "The men follow you." "And they can, by obeying you. They need to think me as Umu the Shipburner, not Teissa the feeble girl." "This is just weariness talking," Sulme said. "After a few days' rest you'll feel better." "No. My spirit is all but dead. From now on, I will have to concentrate on staying alive. For the sake of our child." "Pregnancy isn't an injury. You'll have weeks bef--" "Sulme! Do not argue with me about how I feel." "Sorry." To placate me, he cut another thick piece of juicy meat. "We'll do as you see best." "Thank you." I took the offering and smiled. "I know you mean well." "Glad to hear that." After my meal, Sulme limped out of the cabin, and I lay back on the bed. Perhaps I was overdramatic about my nature being dead. If it was true, being Teissa-shaped husk was certainly better than resting as an Umu- shaped corpse at the bottom of the lake. The former could fulfil the functions of a physical body. That was after all why Elti had dragged me to the surface. I closed my eyes and took an uncomfortable position, so I wouldn't fall asleep. My mind needed meditating to clear up. Words filled the swirling void of my mind. "You are definitely rather hysterical about your situation." "You are dead, Umu." "That has never stopped me." The wet nothingness filled with an oily blaze. "Do you think fire disappears, when you douse it? No, it hides to wait for the opportunity to resurface." "If you are me, how do I shut you up?" "It will take a much higher order of ascetic than you to cease a mental aggregate. You will have to tolerate me." "Fine. What do you want?" "Your essence is flame," Umu said. "You think your spirit is dead, but it merely needs fuel." I had to consider Her words for a while, before I understood, what She meant. "I will not sacrifice anyone to myself." "You need your strength to defeat the Prince." "No. Besides, letting you revel again will only serve to attract the wrath of the kindly gods. It is of no use." "You need the strength of your soul, to keep your little one from harm. A fetus, untrained and unwilled, is most vulnerable. Without the protection of its mother, the barely formed soul is terribly vulnerable to the foul spirits abundant around us." My thoughts became black like bottom of the lake. I breathed in deep to remain calm. The tongue in my huge mouth tasted of iron and blood. The water split from my view, and turned into a burning deck of a ship. Men around me watched in horror. Oh, how powerful I was. Not a mere liar, or schemer or a politician. I didn't wield power because others gave theirs to me. I embodied the might myself. Reluctantly, I dragged myself back into the cold black water. "Do not tempt me with these visions," I said. "You call memories 'visions' now? Denial is useless with me. I am you, thus I know you loved every heartbeat of it. You munched that roast like it was a man you had scorched." "This is ridiculous." "Hardly. It was why the half-breed got the meat for you." "What? You think he got me meat, because he wanted to imagine me eating men?" "Yes. He gets excited from the idea of bedding the Fire Serpent. Perhaps it is strange, but it is understandable. Might is fire to both the heart and loins. And you walked out of the Firestorm of Surtalm." Tongues of flame taller than trees. Howling men and beasts. I tried to close my eyes, but they were already shut. The fire parted, and the cold winter breeze saved me from burning alive. The only thing I saw were frozen corpses. My scream was cut short. I was back in the water. Umu continued: "That is why Sulme loves you. Even if he didn't realise it, until his body responded to your shape in lust. But if you insists on remaining weak, he'll get bored with you. His love to you falters, but the chains of duty will hold him bound. It will be bitter existence for all the three of you." A hazy group of three stood in front of me. The tallest had flowing tawny hair, and the middle one was burly in a way, which oozed confidence and security. The shortest was by far the most vaporous, vulnerable, needing my everything to stay alive. Hollow, weak anger pulped into my mind. I wouldn't let Her use my unborn child as a pawn in Her mind games any longer. With considerably effort against weariness, I forced my eyes open. CHAPTER 18 The light had changed in the cabin. I must have slept. Without Umu slithering in my thoughts, I could evaluate Her delirious words. Unfortunately, there was truth in it. Laughter broke out of me. I had known about my state for less than a day, but already I contemplated acting like the worst of matron abominations in the old tales. If Sulme was correct, my strength might return with enough patience. But the splendour of Umu wouldn't return with only waiting. The jealous gods had robbed me of that exalted guise. They deemed themselves suited to order the world, with the right they had granted to themselves with their own power. My Father would surpass them. He was already glorious in his authority. All the wall-crushing cannon were his. All of those red hot crucibles, from which spewed forth the steel for blades, ploughs and armour. Every hearth, which kept a family warm through the winter, was his blessing. Luiheki was an ally to humanity, instead of a distant and haughty lord. Time would come, when men would build cannon to challenge Lightning and furnaces as hot as the Sun. Until then, humanity had to settle with fighting earthly tyrants. My physical prowess needed to be ready to face them. I stood up and stretched my frame until the worst of the weariness was expelled. I lay prone on the floor and began a light exercise to a test myself. But merely pushing myself up on my hands and toes left my limbs shaky. Careful not to collapse, I lowered myself until my breast brushed the floor. My thews might have been weary, but I couldn't be so pitifully weak. Again, I forced myself to repeat the movement all the way through. Again, and again. My breath wheezed. Pressure mounted at the sides of my skull. I continued, even though it shredded through the muscles of my chest. The door opened. Mostly from surprise, I collapsed on the floor. "What are you doing?" Sulme asked, aghast. His hands helped me sit. My vision was a dim circle. "I was cleaning the floor," I said. "What did it seem like? I need to maintain my strength." "In your condition, you would do that best by resting." Before my anger could flare into spiteful words, I realised that by my 'condition' he hadn't meant the pregnancy. "Perhaps you are right," I said. "But I cannot handle being cooped up any longer." Thankfully Sulme didn't remind me that remaining in the cabin had been my own idea. He helped me dress, and we headed out. The Sun burned low, but it would be hours before it finally sank into the distant ocean. I did my best not to show to the crew, how light-headed I was. They gave me reverent small bows, which helped bolster my mood. This time getting up to the stern castle was almost easy. A sail-cloth shelter had been set up there, with a view over the lake and privacy from crew and the surrounding ships. Elti lay on a very low divan under the shade. Sulme kissed his mothers knuckles and sat on the floor. "Hello, Teissa," she said. "I hope you are feeling better?" "I am. Thank you." I sat on the other side of the low table and reached for the beer jug. Elti snatched the jug away. "Heady drink suits not a woman in your state." I scowled. "What do you mean?" The lakewoman glanced at my abdomen and stared into my eyes. There was no mockery in her gaze, but stern concern. With a sigh, I relaxed on my divan. If Elti thought the beer was bad for the child, then it was. "Go get water boiled with apples for your lady," Elti said to my page. "And something greasy to eat." The boy bowed and left. "Now that we have privacy," Elti said. "I can ask freely: what are your plans?" "I am not sure," I said. "My tangible plans only reached the battle here. After all, there is a lot I do not know about the situation nearer the capital." "Do you have any idea, how to proceed?" I shrugged. "The capital is too heavily fortified for us to take right away. We will have to prepare through the summer and strike before ice returns." Elti glanced at Sulme. The Nilkoan sat hunched and his eyes closed as if asleep. She said: "The delay will give the Vonir Prince time to prepare a counter-attack." "There is no helping that," I said. "Why does this interest you? Is you folk preparing to ally with us?" "No." Elti smiled. "I'm merely curious. However, your war does pertain to the future of my grandchild." I smirked. "Oh, you would like to have Ekran rulers as your descendants." Elti's face retained its polite half-smile. "Certainly. It would be an amusing topic of conversation." "Well, you might not get the chance to boast about your regal progeny," I said. "Because I am not sure, what my final designs for this war are. Men overseas speak of commonwealth in place of a crowned head. If I kept myself out of the ensuing politics, which will follow a victory, I could live more or less in peace." "And potentially undo all your accomplishments." Elti took a sip of the beer she had denied me. "You can't take the hub from a wheel and hope it rolls along. Or perhaps you can. I'm not an expert on your land vehicles." My page brought me a good chunk of the roast from earlier, which was good, as I was ravenous. My appetite showed I wasn't about to waste away. While I concentrated on eating, Sulme snapped out of his half-sleep and spoke with his mother. She had very mundane if odd concerns, like whether his clothes fit comfortably, or if Sulme had been able to wash himself every day. Elti stood up. "It's late, and breathing your air grows uncomfortable. I must return back under." She hugged her son for goodbye, and in a casual show of inelegance, jumped over the rail into the lake. Drowsy though he was, Sulme took his responsibilities as the captain a bit too seriously. It took almost two hours, before we retreated back to the cabin. I closed the door and pressed into the Nilkoan. I was still taller than him by few inches. Sulme didn't resist, as I grabbed his wrists, even though he was considerably stronger than me. "Imagine..." I leaned an inch forward and locked my eyes in his. "That you were unable to escape my clasp. How would you like that?" The tanned skin of his cheeks gained a ruddy hue. His breath was sharp and shallow. That faint smile parted, as my lips approached it. I moved my hand to his crotch. The one part of a man's body, which had hard time lying, even by omission. "What if I were with you in the guise of Umu..." I paused. That hardened member had twitched. I should have been disgusted, yet I only experienced warmth inside. I kissed him and pushed him to sit on the bed. Our lips detached, only after I was firmly mounted on his lap. "Sorry," Sulme said. "It always takes me a moment to come up with an answer, which won't upset you." "What are you going to say?" I rubbed my bottom against his thighs. "That I love you, all of it. That giant serpent, I love her too." "But Sulme, I would fill this tiny room and more. My coils would crush you, and my visage drive you senseless with terror." "Not so. I saw you well enough through the spyglass. You are magnificent." Sulme took my hands into his. I stared into his watery eyes. The Nilkoan was insane. Mad for me. I wrenched my hands out of his grasp and hugged him. Long moments slipped past, before I got over the formless burst of emotion. I leaned back and pursed my smile. "You are an odd man." Sulme shrugged. "It runs in the family. Though a poet at heart, Dad never described Mum as 'tall and lissome', or even 'fair'. She was always 'abundant', 'imposing' and 'coruscating'. 'Beautiful' too, but that's given." I let out a giggle and pressed him down on the bed. "I may not be able to alter my form at whim to satisfy your perverted curiosity." I bit my lip. "But I want to do my best to satisfy you otherwise." We moved until both us were firmly on the bed. I kneeled on top of his legs. The man lay still, like prey paralysed by terror. Like a gift parcel, his trousers revealed his rod already firm. I lowered my head and lifted my rear. "Do you like my butt more with or without the tail?" I asked. "Teissa... Ple--" "Does this still hurt?" I brushed a finger over the ugly stitches on his hip. Sulme made a valiant effort not to wince. "Yeah, it does." "I will be careful then." I took the tip of the member between my lips and teased the sensitive flesh with my tongue. Like a gluttonous snake devouring a mouse, I drew my jaws open to take the member whole. The tip pushed into the back of my throat, but I had become used to it and didn't retch. The debauched sensation of a cock stretching my throat sent me shivering. I squeezed the base of his member, while bobbing my head. Though practice had made me rather efficient, I couldn't stop all of the obscene gasps and gurgles. The rod twitched and pulsed, and I prepared for Sulme's climax. The forces our souls touched, and a heated wave travelled from his soul to the crucible of mine. It was like the first gulp of water into a parched throat. Warm slime filled my mouth. I can't say if the onboard diet was different, but the taste of Sulme's ooze had grown on me. After I swallowed and sucked him clean, I removed my lips from his girth with a pop. The man drew a deep breath and sighed. "Thanks, Teissa." I untied my gown and pulled it off me. Without any hurry, the undergown was similarly removed. As if I didn't have anything better to do, I arranged my hair on both of my shoulders. "Do you enjoy, what you see?" I asked. Sulme remained silent, likely evaluating if this was another of my knotted trick questions. Eventually he said: "I have working eyes, so yes." Not very original, but it passed the test. With slow swinging movements, I crawled to lay beside the man. Sulme didn't need instructions to bring a hand to my groin. His fingers were naturally deft, and had been drilled reasonably well in the limited time available. Soon I squirmed to the rhythm of my moans. Warm lips lathered my cheek with kisses. The gentle beast pawed my chest, which yielded to the hungry grip, as the flesh of a woman was wont. I couldn't lay still. I turned and snaked my arms around his neck. The man shifted to embrace me, but kept his other hand fondling my receptive nethers. The strength hidden in that heaving frame wasn't unleashed without care. A lesser man than Sulme might have felt the need to subdue me, to show that he wasn't the subordinate partner. But to my Nilkoan, I was at my best the way I wanted to be. Even when I had a monstrous form, which struck dread into hearts of men, that fool found love. Uncaring of the thin planks between us and the rest of the ship, I let my voice show a wantonness to gratify my man. A familiar fire, calm but intense, lit inside my abdomen. The pressure in my nerves unleashed, but in my thigh they pulled tight. My leg cramped. Instinctively, I straightened the limb to escape the worst of the pain. A clenched cry escaped my mouth. With eyes closed shut tight, I waited the pain in my thigh to subside. Warm hands brushed my back. "Is everything alright?" Sulme asked. "Yesh... Just a cramp in my leg." Sulme helped me sit and rubbed my hurt thigh with his large hand. He reached for a jug of water and gave it to me. I cleaned my mouth and gave Sulme a kiss of appreciation. We lay back and twined around each other. The discomfort of the clenched nerve faded. Sulme brushed the side of my head. "What did I do to deserve you?" I chortled. "A lot." Sulme brought a hand under my navel. The skin under his touch experienced a shuddering fit. The man tightened his hold of me, which only stoked my overheated emotions. I closed my eyes, but a few tears escaped between the lids. "Sorry," Sulme said. His hand started to move away from my abdomen, but I clasped his wrist. "I am fine," I said, with an attempt to smile. "My mind is merely stirred." Sulme pressed his hand into my skin. Only a small distance away was the fruit of his deeds on my flesh. Intense sentimentality threatened to flood over me again. "What will you do, if I push out an egg?," I asked, with a forced grin on my face. "After all, I was in Umu's form." "I guess I'll take my turns keeping it warm." My body jerked, but my grin turned genuine. CHAPTER 19 The cabin and the ship around it had disappeared. Fuzzy images shifted until I sat at the courtyard of my home. The fortified house sprawled much wider and taller than I remembered, and the doors were fit for giants. "Our conversation was interrupted." Air ignited like gunpowder. "Go away, Umu," I willed without words. "You can't shoo away yourself." I concentrated on relaxing, but the increase of thought only made my surroundings firmer. My heart ached from the sight of my home in flames. Before the nightmare could overtake me, I willed the world and myself into a wet fog. From the haze formed my body. The scaled belly under my eyes was immense, yet not bloated or corpulent. Its size was for a reason. I tried to move, but I was too heavy. After a moment of struggling, I decided there was no need to move. By merely existing, I fulfilled my purpose. I was a womb, and a bosom and limbs to nurse the young. The cycle of fecundity would repeat. I needed not to be anything else. I could be nothing more. My ribcage crushed the frantic heart inside. The dim cabin of the galley rocked gently. I mouthed Sulme's name, but he wasn't in the room. Clammy moisture stuck into my skin. I threw the blanket of me and examined my body. Nothing had visibly changed, though my nails were getting long. The morning was about to die, when I got out of the cabin. Men, seeking my attention, pushed me into the role of their leader. I listened to their troubles and went around praising their courage. I led a ritual to hallow the lake as a resting place for the heroic dead. Sulme explained the plans he had made with the Attisan leaders. Despite his reticence, the Nilkoan had succeeded in herding our disparage band remarkably well. We had lost half of our men to battle, disease and desertion, but gained confidence, vital experience, better ships and a hoard of equipment. All of the black ships had sunken, closing a dread epoch, which had lingered far over its allotted time. My ardent personal devotees --the serpentists, the best of handgunners and lucky remnants of the zealots-- had become a fire-hardened lot. Their eyes gleamed with determination, a surety approaching madness. Men like them lived to follow the whim of their leader. Doing otherwise would be the same as the death of the person they had become. I made them kneel in front of me and had them swear a fell oath of loyalty by my Father. When they stood at my behest, they rose as my oathbound retainers. From now on their conduct wouldn't be compared to that of mere mortal men, but to that of the companions of ancestral heroes. The damaged ships that still floated were sent back to Attisa with an impressive collection of trophies to boast our victory. "What do we do with the captives?" Sulme asked. It was the question I had avoided to answer. Umu's words filled my mind. Most of my men would happily sacrifice the Tamsi prisoners to me. My spirit could grow turgid on their souls. I looked up into the cloudless sky. The lightning bolt might have been a warning. The kindly gods would not tolerate another forceful intrusion into their scheme. Burning the essence of others to ward the soul of my child would make the unborn an accomplice to the crime. A life, which hadn't yet even began, would be tainted from the start, at least according to the laws, which gods had given to mankind. "Free the Ekrans," I said. "Give them the choice of joining us or going ashore. As for the Tamsi, they will remain our guests until a ransom is paid. Make them row, if you can, but motivate them with proper rations, not the whip." On the second lake that day, we met a group of ships. At first I assumed they were a late group of the Tamsi looking for the glory in a quick death. Yet their crews swung their arms and flags at us in a welcome instead of hostility. Both sides sent a small boat for a parley. It turned out they were Ekrans, who had deserted the Tamsi fleet, after they had heard about our revolt. Though their attitudes were mercenary and loyalties fickle, I welcomed them to our fleet. Nevertheless, I was no fool. I insisted that my trusted men were placed as 'advisors' on the fresh ships. To my surprise, their crews welcomed this. Most of their officers had disagree with their decision to desert, and they had been left figuratively rudderless. A sliver of remorse gnawed me from doubting my allies, but it was overshadowed by the good fortune of ready reinforcements. I picked men from followers that had a way with words and fiery natures. They I named my heralds. I bound them to me with their blood and gave them horses and arms, so they might spread the word of the end to Tamsi heresy in the land of us Ekrans. We made our way through sprawling lakes. After we torched a few more manors, all the Tamsi fled from our way or hid in the woods. The Ekran clans were convinced to open their fortress gates and join our cause, either out of self-preservation or genuine desire to shed the Vonir yoke. No town offered us any resistance, as my reputation preceded me in a twisted form. Many were surprised that the beast, which had scorched Attisa and eaten its people, was nowhere to be seen. To keep up the dread, I let my soldiers spread their wild tales about me. Soon townspeople prayed to the gods at the sight of their unburnt houses. In the rumours, I was Mistress of Kauku, Lady Serpentine, the Deathless Flame. All sorts of overly grandiose epithets. I paid them little heed, except when I was named the firstborn of Luiheki. That was false. The first daughter of my Father was the terror, which fire struck into the hearts of monsters in the night. Through a shared Mother Numma, those nocturnal horrors were my kin. PART VI - Pyres of Liberty CHAPTER 20 After a pitifully short siege, we took the castle of Risna, which guarded the river leading to the capital city Munni and the inland sea. The outlying fortifications were too sparse to stop us, but even poorly manned, the high walls of Munni proper could repulse my troops. I needed more guns, but more importantly more men to storm the bulwarks without mashing the capital into shreds first. Of course, if I failed to take Munni, I would deny it to the Vonir. But such desperate resorts weren't good for the morale to speak of aloud. Our plan would be to take the capital intact. Besides, nobody ruled from smoking ruins. With the Ekran clans on our side, my war council burgeoned with prideful lords and loud chiefs. Of course, experienced voices were welcome, as I had little expertise in long term military strategy. But too many jabbering mouths made for cumbersome discussion and unsure leadership. Unruly Ekran lords had formed their own competing warbands in my periphery. I had to formalise my immediate ministers, to give my rebellion the veneer of legitimacy and statehood. The fewer negotiations I had to personally attend, the more time I had for drilling my troops and re-establishing proper rites of worship. I called the three men I had chosen to my small office in the Risna castle. "Hopefully your new positions and duties are not objectionable," I said after explaining my wishes. Chieftain Lurankoju grunted, and that was enough. The wars for the Prince and the war against him had cost the old wardog an arm and three sons. Though Lurankoju had a personal bone to pick with the Tamsi, he had made his scepticism about the religious backbone of my revolt clear. I counted it in his favour. After all, if my advisors did nothing but agree with me, they were useless. "I will serve you with the best of my ability," lordling Nimeri said. His gleaming eyes darted across my body. "No... My efforts shall not be limited to my current prowess. I will strive more than as a mere mortal man, for our lady's honour." I didn't need to peer into the deeper mirage to notice the fire lit in the lordling. According to what he claimed, Nimeri had seen an ecstatic vision of Umu in the hearth of his castle. At times, he acted more like one of my zealots than a young nobleman. But he was accustomed to rule, as the scion of one of the highest Ekran families without full Vonir blood. Last of the three was the Attisan high fleet commander. "I thank you for this show of trust and respect," he said with a smart bow. I kept my Issoan allies happy --and willing to pour funds into the machinery of my war-- by naming the patrician as my military advisor. The appointment was obvious even without diplomatic considerations. The wily man was by far the most competent ship captain I had known. I relied on him heavily to keep my ragtag fleet in fighting order. Out of the three, he was the only one, who had seen me at Kauku. The commander's steady composure around me was testament to his reliable nature. "Good," I said. "Let us speak of artillery." A lull of treacherous peace fell on Ekra. We had encircled the outskirts of Munni, but it did little else than deny them the farmland, as we had no means to stop supplies from being shipped there overseas. Rumours about the persecution of Tamsi faithful overflowed until they became too repetitive to pass on. According to more reliable reports, especially priests of foreign extraction fared poorly in the land nominally under my rule. Umu stirred in my soul even when I was awake; the executions by pyre must have come close to being dedicated to me. I would have been disgusted, if I hadn't had the need for the strength. Outside the thoroughly native primordial clans, Ekran nobility had been all but Vonir for two generations. To many of us, the Tamsi faith had stuck like a swamp leech, even if many now denied ever having practised the foreign rites. My earlier truthful denunciation of them as cowards and traitors couldn't have elicited sympathy among the highborn. Likewise, my casual tolerance of firebrand anti-tyranny rhetoric among the populace must have stepped on certain landowning toes. The ire of the nobility mattered little. They would have to prove their worth to the Ekran people, or die. Luiheki's fire roared in furnaces across Ekra. Our land lacked existing cannon manufacture, so experimentation had to be done simultaneously with production. We didn't have the bronze to make as large pieces as those brought oversea, but my Father made sure the cast iron was best it could be. I told my engineers to keep my cannon light-weighted and mobile. I lacked anything that needed compensating for. Through the stalwart efforts of the Ekran towns, our equipment shortage was only worrisome, not catastrophic. But no amount of guns, breastplates, helmets, swords and pikes were of any use without the flesh wielding them. Fortunately, volunteers flocked to us. Unfortunately, even if they had skills in arm, they had little of the most important ability: discipline. A good army was a beast of thousand pairs of legs, arms and eyes, but with only one will. Lurankoju had his work cut for him. At least he had the help of other Ekran nobles, who had served as officers in the Prince's wars. He didn't have to start the labour from completely scratch either, as the sparse groups of veterans gave our companies a hardened backbone. Small gifts appeared at the front of my tent or outside the house I lodged in. Most were like votive offerings: bundles of fresh flowers, vials of scented oils, sap jugs or old coins with the cumulated force from a hundred owners. But a few of them were too personal to be for a lesser divinity. Poems scraped in birch bark accompanied by a bronze bracelet. Large lily decorated with a silver ring. A pair of golden ear studs with dazzling purple crystals. Only one person had both the wealth and motive. In order not to insult Nimeri, I wore the jewellery, whenever I wasn't in combat clothes, which wasn't often. Such show of favour only encouraged the scion further. The material gifts lessened, but the young man tried to weasel into my presence, especially when Sulme was on errands. Nimeri said and did nothing improper, he was careful of that. If I hadn't been firmly taken already, perhaps I might have entertained his charming wiles. He knew how to flatter a woman in way which pierced past any shield of cynicism, and most of the time he wasn't even overtly worshipful about it. When a man of status and of handsome visage wanted a woman in both body and soul with such obvious intensity, it was hard not to warm at least a little. However, the chiefest on my mind was annoyance. If he had kept his adulation without the expectation of reciprocation, I might perhaps even have enjoyed the attention. In way it was an insult to my man and my taste in males that Nimeri thought I could use a replacement. Yet he had swiftly anchored himself as essential. In addition his station making him inviolate, he was both talented and very enthusiastic. He knew the methods to 'encourage' peasants to hand over the emergency taxes, and how to billet troops in a town without causing rapine and disorder. Lurankoju would have let Ekra burn in order to win the war, but Nimeri had a vision which involved the long term prosperity of the land. That vision no doubt involved me and him together at the top of the head we were building. But such were the burdens of a woman in command. The walls of my personal room in Risna castle were decorated with large warding sigils. I had gathered a collection of potent talismans and hung them in forceful places in the room. I also had three shrines, dedicated to the powers in the three realms of existence, equipped with the most beautiful images and influential relics I had been able to gather. A bent and gnarly crone of the wild had prepared a vellum girdle with symbols of uttermost safety to wrap around my abdomen. Even with all these protections, my child remained vulnerable. Death, corruption and foul spirits lingered in my presence. Surely mortal treachery was about too, even if nobody had dared to physically attack me after Kauku. I lay on my bed, contemplating how to get rid of a certain unreliable coxcomb in my army command without seeming tyrannical myself. The door burst open. My hand went to Klakki, which lay with me under the blanket. Lordling Nimeri strode in, and I snorted at my own jumpiness. "I am resting," I said. There was no way to deny audience to one of my main ministers, but Nimeri had a growing tendency to flaunt the privilege of my ear. Any private meeting with the sharp-featured, immaculately dressed and wiry gallant was sure to incite inconvenient rumours. Perhaps he enjoyed them. "The matter is most urgent." Nimeri took each jittery step towards me individually. I sighed and sat up on the edge of my bed. My undergown was a wispy translucent thing, so I wrapped my blanket around my shoulders. "What do you want?" I demanded. "Oh, my lady. I cannot keep my words hidden in my heart any longer." Nimeri stopped much closer to me than he should have. "Though you do not acknowledge the visions you send me, I must finally act on them." The folk at Risna castle often spoke of spiritual visitations involving Umu since my semi-permanent residence. Most of the talk was of innocuous nightmares about fire, but Nimeri's excitement indicated visitations of different sort. Of course the source of these images couldn't have been me. Sulme had kept me thoroughly satisfied. I needed a way to get Nimeri leave without causing a scandal. His presence was still needed in my council. He was the means to show the nobility that they could keep their stations as long as they showed proper reverence. "Describe these vision, so I may ascertain that they in fact are from me." Inside, I grimaced. The fruits of Nimeri's mind had less than no appeal to me, but I couldn't exactly shout for my guards. "I have seen you," Nimeri whispered. "Not as you are now, but as a reflection of your magnificent Mother. A voluptuous progenitor of a new nation." The man took a step towards me. I kept my face expressionless. Nimeri's mouth wavered. "Of course, you need proper seed to start the noble lineage. You need me, my light of love." The carnal nature of the Nimeri's dreams had been barely concealed before. Thus I managed to contain my ire, even though such presumptuousness was intolerable. "Kneel," I snarled. Nimeri obeyed in a disconcertingly reverential fashion. I wrapped my hand around his throat and stared into his wide eyes. My nails bit into his skin. The lordling was a young man and trained as warrior, but he didn't make an attempt to escape my clasp. I channelled Umu as I said: "You meek mortal. Do you truly consider yourself able to withstand my love? My womb is a furnace, my embrace is steel talons and my lips hide burning poison. My Sulme can handle me, for he is not a mere man. The blood of Numma flow in his veins fresh." Nimeri stared at me without a word. I pushed him, and he fell on his rump. "You are blinded by your lusts, which you mistake for love," I said. "Go now. Find a secluded place and work off your arousal by your own means. Afterwards, with a cleaned mind, meditate on how to best serve me. Take heed. Any vision you receive is merely a test, not an invitation." The nobleman bowed, uttered a few placating words and hurried out of my room. Soon after Sulme barged in, with a scowl on his face. His new baggy- sleeved but otherwise close-fitting coat emphasised his wide shoulders and narrow waist. "You are unclad," he stated and clasped the door locked. "Nothing happened." I brushed the air with my hand. "Nimeri was confused, and I had to correct him." "Oh." Sulme's expression mellowed and his smile returned. "No wonder he seems prickly around me. It's jealousy, then. That's easy to tolerate." "Do not annoy him. He might think that by killing you he would remove both an irritation and an obstacle. I need him alive and in service." "I get it." Sulme sat at the table and unpacked a parcel of black bread and lard. "Don't worry, Teissa. I have no reason for envy." "That is good to hear." I went to sit on the bench next to him. "The boy will lose the worst of his infatuation, as my state becomes evident." Sulme chuckled and wrapped an arm around me. "'The boy'. He's older than you by a year at least." I grinned and rested my head on the Sulme's shoulder. "Are you not aware that prospective motherhood grants boundless wisdom?" With his free hand, Sulme dipped the bread into the greasy substance. "If you, with your budding maternal insight, say so, it must be true." My smile lost its mirth. "Truth be told, I do not feel particularly wise. There are moments, when the situation seems all but hopeless. Despite our efforts, we lack the troops to both take Munni and fight off the inevitable Vonir counterattack." As far as I knew, city's garrison was mostly burghers of foreign background and unlikely to defect to us. The Tamsi in the city were already receiving aid and mercenaries from overseas, even if the Prince's response was still unknown. "But we need that city," I said. "Before the ice makes our ships useless and lets his superior cavalry go where it pleases." "Rumours--" Sulme finished chewing and swallowed. "Rumours tell the Prince is busy fighting with the plainsfolk, far in the frontier." I scoffed. "He is never not busy fighting them. But as always, he will find an opening to come smack at us. The Vonir tyrant moves with the wind. Sulme... My point is that our efforts might require Umu's power again." "Oh." "Indeed. There is no knowing, if I can return again to this form, or if the kindly gods tolerate another show of divine power from me. Then there is the problem of the fuel for spirit. Even if everything goes as planned, what will happen next? My devotees will see blood sacrifice as means to empower me, regardless if I try to admonish them for it. I fear how my soul would react to being worshipped like the foulest of chthonic gods." "I can't answer any of that. But have you considered not taking this rebellion to your shoulders alone?" "You think, I should give up?" "No. I merely mean not letting yourself be consumed." "This enterprise is mine. I will see my work through, no matter the cost." I flinched from the implication. "Hopefully it doesn't come to that." Sulme cut a piece of the bread, lathered it with lard and offered it to me. I took the piece into my mouth. "But you may underestimate our chances," Sulme said. "I visited the city." I swallowed and coughed. "By yourself?" "Yes. I swam under the ships blockading the river." "You should have told me. Your absence had begun to worry me, until I -- erroneously it seems-- figured you would avoid any real danger." Sulme smiled. "Sorry. But I couldn't send a message back. Too many eyes and ears between you and my words." "You mean spies?" "It's always possible." "We need to root them out. Anyhow, tell me, what you saw." "I walked out of the harbour water. Nobody paid me attention. What caught my gaze immediately, were the signs of recent unrest and even fighting. Burned buildings, dried blood, bullet holes. I even found a few hacked corpses in the alleys." "Who was responsible?" "Vonir and Ekran rabble fighting each other, it seems. The authorities went overboard making sure the Ekran residents didn't start trouble. The already disgruntled poor reacted with violence, which the dockside Vonir gangs answered. Even though the city is heavily garrisoned, the troubles might spiral out of control." "I guess we could smuggle weapons to tip the balance," I said. "But I want to take a city, not a battleground. Anything else?" "This, I think, is more pertinent. The authorities are scared that the serpentists in town join you. They try to keep their fear secret, but a blacksmith told about his friend in the city militia. All serpentists in Munni have been quietly left out of active duty." "So... The city's guns are not operated by their best men. That is foolish." "Indeed. The officials appear to rely on the hope that the Prince will deliver them." Sulme licked his fingers clean. "Not everyone shares that optimism. Some think you are the harbinger of the end of the age. The officials and priests don't care for that take, though. I saw a lay preacher beaten up by soldiers for declaring the death of the harmonious world." I laughed. "If I was able, I would end their world." Sulme's smile disappeared. He looked at me, with worry or disappointment, I couldn't tell. "Figuratively, of course," I said. "No matter what the heretics say, Numma does not aim to consume the realms of men." "Yeah, I know," Sulme said. "And more importantly, I trust you." Sulme's new information lightened my mood. I had estimated Munni to be cohesive in its opposition against me. Whoever controlled the dispersal of information from the city had fooled me thoroughly. Possibly the sour mood of my last visit to the capital had clouded my impressions. A smile on my face, I walked among my soldiers. Our armies were spread across the country, so that the burden of their upkeep wouldn't strain one place alone. Most of the soldiers had to work for their living and could drill but seldom. Not so for the regiment of my personal Life Guard. I kept them stationed, wherever I went. Because I couldn't have a whole army of regulars trained in the overseas fashion, I made sure my own men were an iron spine of our army. I needed pikemen to hold against the charge of Tamsi cavalry and march into walls of sharp steel. The tactics I knew from experience required steel-nerved handgunners, who would continue reloading and shooting even when exposed. And paramountly, quick and accurate cannoneers were vital. I needed to bring the fight to the enemy, before they could bring their greater numbers to bear. What I couldn't get was swift, experienced and disciplined horsemen for shock strikes. Most of the cavalry in Ekra was either Tamsi gentry, which I had done my best to destroy, or unreliable Ekran knights with delusions of personal glory. I had to content myself with a few squadrons of light horse, more of a personal mounted bodyguard than an effective unit. One problem I faced with training my troops was that they began to think themselves heroes. Merely because they were under the direct command of a goddess. For everyone save my oathbound retainers, the claim of status couldn't have been farther from the truth. Many of them had been overseas, but only few had seen proper combat. Ekran soldiers rarely came back from the Prince's wars. I utilised more drilling, and the fear of fire if needed, to wipe away such delusions of inherent worth. I did my best to procure my brigade dark soot-grey coats to give them a uniform appearance. Alone they looked rather shabby, but together they were an impressive sight: just the effect I sought for. And smoke stains weren't visible in the off- black, which saved us on paying washers. The soldiers of the Blue Sash Company of the Lady's Life Guard stared at me with blank eyes in their sweaty red faces. I had made them jog in formation behind my horse around the castle, for the whole midday under the merciless embrace of the early summer Sun. One of them had demanded free beer from the locals, with the claim that I had permitted such extortion for my 'brave chosen'. "A few of you have made a grave miscalculation," I addressed them. "These halfwits assumed that I have had my pick of heroes to man my personal guard. This is not so. If I could have chosen men like Irukka of the Bow or Steel Tsykka, none of you would be here." I smiled and leaned against the pommel of my saddle. "What I got was a bunch of little bugs. True, they are now group of trained rodents, jumping at the behest of the cat. But they remain untested still. Only after you are convinced that serving me is the worst that can happen to man, then I will let you boast. A little. Before that, if you want more beer than in your rations, you will pay for it. Or wait, until I deem that you deserving." Though I would have never mollycoddled them, my Life Guard was a good bunch. As the early summer went by, I had become convinced that they could become a worthy corps after they were bloodied together. They would never have the lifetime of martial training of a noble retinue, but neither would they have the accompanying conceit. They were my creatures. Their utility didn't extend to only defeating the Tamsi. Afterwards, I would need troops unbeholden to anyone but myself. There was quite a lot of reorganising to do in the Ekran land, and my personal army would be the hammer, anvil, tongs and furnace for the job. That night I brought three barrels of decent beer and gave them to my oathbound retainers, recently named the White Sash Company. They promptly shared the drink with the rest of the regiment, including the Blue Sash, even without my prompting. I kept out of their way so they wouldn't see my proud grin. CHAPTER 21 The midnight horizon blazed with the lingering flame of the Sun. Our enemy was abroad rather late. Perhaps the group of armoured cavalry had hoped to slip past our scouts without a fight. Foolhardy. They must have known that we kept the area around Munni thoroughly under our watch. Skirmishes had become a regular event in the outskirts, after the Vonir began to move mercenaries to the capital. Raids to deny us the future yield of the local farms gave us plenty of opportunities to show ourselves to be the protectors of the populace, but it stretched my troops thin. The enemy goaded us to summon in the full Ekran host in an attempt to force us to commit to a costly siege. Camping thousands of men under the summer Sun was a quick way to lose half of your army to the unclean spirits of disease. Even the small scale fighting had given my brigade the chance for real training. Many of my grim White Sashes, hidden with me in the wooded slope, sported rusty stains. Umu was the nominal leader of the Pyreist faction, which my portion of the Ekran revolt was called. But I had left the highest command and organisation to more experienced men. Sulme had protests me traipsing around the countryside getting into scraps with the Tamsi. According to him, I was too important to the rebellion to risk. I should have stayed outside danger to stoke the fires in both in hearts and furnaces. He hadn't mentioned the true reason for his fears. My state had begin to show. The bump was small, but visible on a slim woman, especially in manual examination. Still, I wasn't going to be cloistered. Me and my men needed the experience, and I would lose their respect, if I acted like a feeble woman made of glass and tears. My argument with Sulme had been over a week ago, and I hadn't seen him since. He had returned to the sea ship, which he had so audaciously captured. Now, the walls of Munni and its garrison lay between us. I needed Sulme with me, but I couldn't argue that raiding the Tamsi shipping lines wasn't essential to our cause. Besides, the Nilkoan was the best for the job. And I was best for mine, as a commander of a single brigade instead of whole armies. Oh, how the men gazed at me after every victory. I drank that awed stare. To them, I was both their demanding mother and their vicious god. Without me, they were nothing. With me, they were the thunder of guns, the flash of steel in the bright night and the firestorm choir. Below on the road, the enemy cavalry formation appeared from behind a curve. They slacked their pace, believing themselves safe from the fake ambush two miles prior. Their horses were sure to be tired after carrying the armoured riders in quick march. I signalled to my men to level their handguns and took mine to my claws. The scales had started to spread again, which was good, as the armour was useful. It also reminded my men that they didn't follow a mere woman. The Tamsi came into range. I stopped suppressing the fire in our matches. A few of the knights noticed the spots of bright fire in the forest, but for them it was too late. Our guns roared like ten times their number. I wanted captives for questioning about the purpose of their mission. Unfortunately the Tamsi fought like possessed, and I didn't want to risk my men for potentially banal information. In the end, all of the enemy were slain or grievously wounded, before we managed to unhorse them. Except one of the unarmoured riders, who had managed to escape. Unless my men, who had faked the ambush, intercepted the lone horseman, the Tamsi garrison of the nearby fortress would soon know of our presence. "What was your mission?" I pressed my taloned foot on the bloody Tamsi leader. He groaned and twisted his moustached face. Understandable, considering the bullet wound on his side. "Save your tainted breath, soot worm. I won't speak," he seethed. His froth was stained pink. "Lady!" one of my men shouted. He hurried to me carrying three heavy sacks. "Silver and some gold. Lots of it!" "Too much for a picket like this." I kneeled back to the enemy commander. "What are the coins for?" "Burn," the commander mouthed. A match sizzled into life inside his sash. I tried to douse the flame, but it resisted my will. The grin on the commander's face told he had been trained in the fire art. I took the small grenade from the pouch, pressed it against the Tamsi's throat and hid it under my palms. Before the explosion, the commander's face twisted in the realisation of the futility of his attempt. My scales stopped the clay slivers, and the heat wouldn't touch me. Yet the impact was enough to hurt my bones. With my ears ringing, I stood up and grimaced. Agony shot through my hands, as I tried move them, but they didn't seem particularly broken. That was good. I had no time to recover. The soldiers around me stared, as if a pinch of powder could have slain me. "Were you injured?" I asked the man next to me. "N-no, lady." Though it hurt, I twisted my hand to point at a few of the surviving mounts of the enemy. "Then go catch the horses and help the wounded on the saddle. We must disappear, before reinforcements rumble after us." Any relief from reaching home was short-lived. The Risna castle was becoming too familiar as a lodging to my liking. The idea of wintering inside the bare crumbling heap of stone pushed my mind towards Munni and beyond. As the first order of business, I sought for news of Sulme. Nothing but wild rumours were to be had. Because there was no word of his death or capture, I decided to ignore the tales of fiery battles and crews full of renegades. Instead I would wait for more concrete information. Because the curse of pregnant women was upon me, I retreated to my quarters. Nothing in my stomach could stay still, and my frame shivered. Yet despite the bout of sickness, I found myself amorous, with my mind reaching for the culprit of my unease. He should have been with me. My anger quickly turned around towards myself. I had no right to demand him to stay useless, when I myself refused to stay put, even though I had actual good reason to. I placed my hands on my stomach. Combat placed the child at risk. Not even the protective padding of my body, thick cloth and plate armour might be able to protect the vulnerable little unformed creature. The supposedly wise had said that even riding is too strenuous during pregnancy. Why had the gods fashion women to be so feeble? The human female should have been tall and robust, with strong bones and thick hide, to better conduct their duties as mothers. Presumably that would have stretched food supplies during famines and encouraged reckless unmotherly behaviour. Still, it was hard to accept that women were little more than wombs with limbs to move around and work the distaff. I wouldn't settle for it, and I was fortunate that I didn't have to. Already I was taller than most men, and stronger than quite a few, even if such physical prowess was meaningless compared to the force of spirits and gods. My nausea faded and was replaced by ravenous hunger. On march I tried to eat the same rations as the men. But at times stale bread and mouldy dry cheese wasn't quite enough for a big girl, who also had to feed a little beast inside her. For diplomatic reasons, I had highborn women --mere girls really-- as maid servants. Dining with them didn't entice at the moment. Not that they were poor company. I had tried to learn their easy grace, if for no other reason than to experience being so delightfully feminine myself. However, our separate lifelong experienced built a wall between us. I wondered if I might be able to bridge the gap by training the girls as handgunners. It wouldn't have been impossible, as compared to many of our recruits, the maids were well-fed, healthy and quite clever. Still, they didn't seem inclined to take my suggestions as anything but jests. In the end, I decided to summon lordling Nimeri to a late dinner. I needed to catch up with his recent activities anyhow. After being sent to take care of his own viper, Nimeri had changed his behaviour to remarkable degree. Perhaps he had learned to hide his carnal zeal under a coat of civility. Whatever it was, his presence had become significantly more tolerable. In fact, he could be quite a courteous gentleman when he applied himself. Always perfectly groomed, with his fine jaw clean-shaved, and a faint flowery scent around him. In spite of the ongoing war, his wardrobe was meticulously fancy, but not too extravagant for my tastes. As a conversationalist, the Ekran-Vonir lord was acquainted with a wide variety of overseas literature, from authors I was barely aware of. In the dreary halls of Risna castle, there was no finer singer, even if most poems he knew were in Vonish or other foreign languages. All in all, I was glad that he could make the time to join me at the meal. After we had exchanged pleasantries and the most important developments in the diplomatic situation, we proceeded with the meal. "They say, you crushed a lit grenade in your dainty hands." Nimeri mimicked the motion with a boiled egg, though didn't quite squish it. I stretched my hand over the table. "The tales exaggerate again." Nimeri eyed the dark claws and smiled. "Are you changing into your true form in preparations of the decisive battle?" "Perhaps. Would like to see it?" "Of course. The lucky few at Kauku tell the sight was rather striking. Their loyalty to you backs their words." I chuckled. "Those, who got the best look, died in crippling terror." "Well, they were Tamsi. Their folk is notoriously poor at recognising beauty." "You are flagrant in your praise, lord Nimeri." I placed my elbows on the table and leaned on my hands. He smirked. "If the tales are indeed true, flattery is the surest way to save my own skin." "You would still like to bed me." "That is true, I cannot lie. But I realise even suggesting it would be grotesquely improper. I apologise." Images of a heated, short, shameful encounter pushed into my mind. There wouldn't be any long term consequences though. I couldn't get any more pregnant, and Nimeri would undoubtedly remain discreet. I caught myself. I was contemplating, even if not very seriously, cheating with this shifty three-quarters Vonir fop. "Let us bury the subject," I said and sat straight. "What do you think about the silver the Tamsi were carrying?" "The amount was not much for a whole army, but plenty for one man." "You think it was supposed to be a bribe. I did so too. Note, that you are one of my suspects." Nimeri guffawed. "Yes, I would definitely try to bribe myself. But do not fear that your closest ministers are duplicitous. We have too much to lose with your defeat." "So, who do you think it was for?" The man shrugged. "One the chieftains leading the smaller warbands, perhaps. The sum is not enough to buy a whole army, but it just might convince someone to remain out of the fight." "What should I do?" "Nothing." Nimeri's smile widened. "The money cannot work its misdeed in your possession." "But the recipient is still out there, scheming with the Tamsi." "Possibly, but they do not know that you do not know, who they are. To hide the guilt, they will make themselves appear as innocent as possible. In practice that is very near loyalty." I sighed. "There is also the possibility that the silver was not intended for anyone. The Tamsi might try to make it seem we have a traitor in our midsts." "Traitors and turncoats breed around power like flies in a carcass, lady. A ruler can only keep on moving, before they are consumed." "Perhaps." I imagined the last piece of turnip on my plate to be a treasonous heart and stabbed it. CHAPTER 22 Nimeri soon left. Though our conversation had turned morbid, the needy restlessness lingered in my flesh. The three noblewomen serving me put aside their textiles and stood up ready to attend to me. The presence of women didn't let my carnal desires rest. After all, I had always been attracted to women enough to think myself a normal man. Now I knew the allure of feminine bodies had been reinforced by something akin to jealousy. Hefty breasts had appealing soft shapes and were intensely womanly. The unrealised part of my mind had wondered, how they would look on me. Plump thighs, flared hips, narrow waists, dainty faces and long shiny hair; all were aesthetically pleasing. In retrospect, I understood that I had wanted to own a woman. Not as a person but as the sum of her body parts. Such callous desires had caused me balk from romance. Only after Umu had changed me could I admit to myself, where I had needed the feminine aspects most: on myself. Perhaps out of frustration, my eyes lingered on the maids. They were all young, pretty and prettily dressed. The somewhat chubby one, Esurra, especially had a pleasing shape. Her curves combined prospective motherliness with the prime of youth. Esurra's gaze kept lingering at me in a way, which I could only interpret as curiosity and a craving. Of course, it was possible such looks were trained wiles, designed to get into the mistress's favour. "I want a bath," I said. A tantalising hint of satisfaction flashed in Esurra's expression. When my attendants had first seen the scales in my hand, the shock had taken a day to dissipate, before they were ready to serve me again. Now the progressing changes unsettled them, but only momentarily. With certain success, they managed to act as if I was just another highborn woman. I leaned back in the tub, closed my eyes and let a maid wash my hair. She made sure to massage my scalp thoroughly. It was a luxury I could almost let myself get used to. Esurra plucked a zither to create tunes fit for a dreamy atmosphere. The tension in my tendons relaxed. I could think straight. Though relations between girls were different than between a man and woman, it would still be a betrayal to Sulme. Perhaps I might have asked his permission, but he would have been inclined to grant it, regardless of his own feelings. I couldn't break Sulme's trust. Besides, my attendants might follow my wished purely out of fear or political ambition. That sort of 'love' was sure to leave a nasty aftertaste. "Have any of you found any suitable candidates among the men?" I asked to push my thoughts away from myself. "Most of the boys here are soldiers," said the maid washing my hair. "They are rather gruff, and it would be risky to marry them at the moment." "Has any of them caught your eye?" I asked. "Well... Yes. But he does not have land or titles. Yet." I smiled. "Who is it?" "First Ensign Karsa, mistress. But father would never allow it. He's a mere burgher." I would have assumed my former page was too young to think about marriage. But he was a soldier, and after finishing his spurt of growth, he'd be a man better than most. "Your father just might accept my first ensign after this war," I said. The girl's voice brightened. "Will you give him a title?" "He will get rank and estates, if he deserves it." The maid would tell about my off-hand promise to the first ensign. The boy would be under pressure to prove his worth. I almost felt bad for him. The moist air sweltered, and I lay on my bed without blanket. Esurra lay in a pallet in front of the door, as a simple but effective alarm. The other girls slept beside the bed. None of the three let out any sounds. No snoring, no wheezing, not even heavy breathing. Maybe silent sleeping a trainable skill, or they had been chosen for their talent. It didn't matter. What did was that I couldn't know if they were truly asleep. The heat lingered in my loins. I wanted it extinguished, so I could sleep. My claws made exploring my own depths inconvenient, so I was forced to content myself by rubbing the tender nub. I had to concentrate on keeping my breath calm and quiet, even though little else than my frustration grew. I gave up. The climax wouldn't come. Maybe it was the stress, or the pregnancy or the heartache, but self-stimulation didn't do its purpose. What I needed wasn't the satisfaction of nerves and flesh, but the tender embrace, loving kisses and awkward words of deep affection. A despondent sigh escape my lips. I turned on my side, and tried to rest, even if sleep turned out to be impossible. Morning forced me out of my bed. My troops needed time to recuperate, and I had duties outside the battlefield. Thus we remained at Risna castle. The lull in campaigning gave me a chance to dress less practically. Wealthy Ekrans had gifted me plenty of clothes, and my attendants had worked hard to tailor them to my unconventional measurements. For that day, I chose a carmine and dark grey gown with a rigid hem, intricately blackworked puffy sleeves and a tight bodice. The girls had made me long black gloves, which fit like sheaths over my claws. Despite all the fabric, my outfit wasn't uncomfortably warm. I also had a new bigger hat, with dashing plumes and an expansive brim. "You are stunning, mistress," Esurra said. "You wear both steel and dyed linen just as gracefully." "Thank you for the adulation. It does brighten my morning." Esurra's blush was particularly apparent on that milky smooth skin. I myself had tanned like a pig on the cooking fire. The whine of tortured strings carried from the barracks. I sauntered inside. My soldiers were relaxing, playing dice and cards or abusing the poor instruments. It was good that they managed to enjoy themselves, because sometimes they could be a bit too grim. In the deeper mirage, their souls showed the signs of shredding, but the gaps weren't empty. Umu had poured Her fire into them, shielding my serpentists from the possession of foul spirits, yet at a cost I didn't know. At the moment they did appear human, both in appearance and behaviour. As they noticed me, the men stood up and bowed. I smiled to show that I wasn't about call them into action, even though my attire should have demonstrated the fact. "Do you boys have everything you need?" I asked the captain, who came to greet me. "Yes, we do, lady." The captain's smile lifted his droopy moustache. "But we--" Commotion rose from the courtyard. A man shouted for 'the lady'. I dismissed the captain and hurried out. Near the gate, a group of my scouts had just dismounted. I lifted my hem to keep it from the mud and strode to them. "Lady Umu!" a scout said. "We picked this vagrant running towards Risna." He pointed at the shaky man, who was helped off the saddle. "He knew the passwords of the city spies." I went to the man. He wore dirty rags and shredded shoes. "Who are you?" I asked He took support from one of my soldiers and looked me over. "Are you Umu?" "Yes." "Oh good... Made it." The man mouthed and breathed in deep. "I helped one of your spies at Munni." What little 'spies' I had were sympathetic Ekrans, who sent information my way when they could. Any messages we tried to sent them tended to end up intercepted, getting people killed. I had suspected the Tamsi used more than ordinary means to capture our messengers. "He got sliced," the junior spy continued. "Beheaded. The Tamsi stamped on us, hard. Barely got out of town, before I too got another hole to breath closer to my lungs. I ran all the night, slept in a ditch, and ran some more." "Why?" I asked. "The Tamsi tried to keep it hush-hush. But we found out." I frowned. "Found out what?" The spy made a covetous gesture with his fingers. "Rest assured," I said. "If your words are useful, your suffering will have been worth it." A poorly toothed grin spread on the man's face. "I got better than my humble words." He pulled out a crumpled paper out of a pocket I hadn't seen. "A signed letter, from the Prince. He sails for Ekra." As I had a good treasury of loose coin at hand, the spy was rewarded as if he had brought me the standard of the Fulgurite Prince. To pay a cutter-rat like that was indulgent, but it would work as an investment to encourage others into daring feats of espionage. I knew much less than I would have preferred. The letter could have been a forgery, but the spy's tale about its acquisition rang as plausible. The information in itself was not surprising, and the true value of the letter was to encourage our allies to speed up their arrival. Nothing botched a campaign quicker than a tardy mustering, especially when the troops were largely unused to soldiering. The men had to be kept lodged, fed, healthy, disciplined, bored but not too bored, so when time came to march or fight, they were both able and eager. I knew that balancing it all to be a difficult feat. In fact, I myself had been one of the more difficult elements to herd. News that the Fulgurite Prince was sailing out to personally crush out our revolt sent terror through Ekra. Yet the development was welcome to my plans. It was unlikely the Prince would content himself to merely reinforce Munni. He would sally out to us, giving us the defensive initiative. One decisive victory against the Prince, and Tamsi presence in Ekra would be all but doomed. The garrison at Munni was be unlikely to resist without any hope of relief. If we promised not to kill them, they'd be more than likely to capitulate. Raging summer storms heralded the arrival of the Vonir fleet. I led the sacrifice of pigs to call the Abyss to consume their ships, but the forces warding the Tamsi were strong. Reports claimed that almost all of the fleet reached port at the capital. I worried for Sulme. He was unlikely to drown, but injuries might stop him from reaching the shore after a shipwreck. The loss of his ship and crew would be a blow to our cause and morale. Our troops trickled in by boat, foot march and on horse. Arrogant knights of the clans, with their servant infantry in tow. Fretful companies of stylishly dressed town militia. Haphazard battalions of baffled peasants, recruited and trained in the Vonir fashion by Ekran veteran officers. All sorts of armed stragglers, with little else than rapine and dubious glory in their minds. We also had some mercenaries, notably the two regiments of fighting Nangoans. They were heavy infantry in cumbersome full armour. Officially, their wages were paid by an Issoan merchant, but in truth they were heavily subsided by the Nangoan aristocracy. I had welcomed them, but I kept in mind that their aim was to keep the Vonir Prince weak, not help Ekra grow strong. Finally there was the Lady's Life Guard, or 'the soot worms', as they had started to call themselves. My maids had helped to make a new main standard for us: the yellow eye of a water snake on fiery orange field, with a golden serpent figure on the staff. The tassels were stained with the blood of all of us. While the summons were under way, I convened with eclectic and unconventional fire priests, ascetics of the wild and other holy men and women. Our task was to solidify the key theological underpinnings of our revolt. Anyone, who died fighting with Luiheki's name on their lips, could expect an auspicious rebirth and eventual liberation. It was also obvious that my Father was the ally of all humanity without precedence. I refrained from adding that every human was created fundamentally equal. That might have annoyed my highborn allies too much, but the implication was there. I and other firebrands preached the new 'straightforward doctrine' across our army, especially to the commoner element. My aim was to direct their loyalty from their lords towards all Ekra and myself. This undoubtedly soured many of the clans' views of me, but they were too committed to flee without intense loss of prestige. "Do we have a chance?" I asked Lurankoju. My thighs ached from all the riding I had needed to do in an attempt to memorise every creek, hillock and patch of woods in the area. The old warmaster grunted. "There is always a chance in a scrap, big or small." Lurankoju's reluctance to say anything definitive was understandable. The army, which the Prince had moved out of Munni, was about the size of ours. Though the Tamsi tyrant had access to troops better equipped and more experienced than ours, he wouldn't have been able to bring them all to Ekra. What surprised me was how most of the Prince's army turned out to be mercenaries. Perhaps his usual troops had been needed at other battlefields. Only the core of his army was the hardened regulars loyal to him instead of coin. Instead of greed and vague lust for glory, our troops were motivated by hope and fear. The hope that my tall promises of a free Ekra could be fulfilled, and the fear that the Fulgurite Prince was the monster I claimed him to be. The Tamsi also had less cannon than us, even if their pieces were bigger. Presumably the Prince didn't trust his firepower around me. "Can you beat him?" Lurankoju asked. "I mean, if you turn snake." "I cannot say. A battle would not be the matter of thews, skill and steel between us." I sighed. "When I served under the Prince, I thought he was the closest thing to a god men would ever see. But he is a mere mortal man. Or at least, his body is. The Prince is probably a being like me, a mortal shell and soul with a divine essence." Lurankoju twisted his mouth in thought and nodded. "There have been rumours... Now fading due to other rumours." He glanced at my abdomen. "That you were the renegade Ryymi. Is there any truth to that?" "Yes." I gave him a challenging look. "Alright." He glanced away. "I was merely curious. Matters little at this point." CHAPTER 23 A week of manoeuvring and skirmishes exhausted our troops. Now that the Tamsi had poured out of Munni and committed to the idea of fighting in the open, all of a sudden both sides found themselves reluctant to get into a pitched battle. Neither side had any clear guarantee of victory. In the war council, I argued to press the offence, but more hesitant voices prevailed. Supposedly now that the Fulgurite Prince was out on the field, time was on the side of Ekrans. After all, his realm needed him back sooner than later, and the countryside around the capital couldn't support two armies for long. Neither I or our high general Lurankoju agreed. If the Prince stalled, it was for a reason. Perhaps he thought himself better prepared to stay on the field. But because unity was more crucial for our success than good counsel, we followed the decision of our council. Our forest horsemen harassed the enemy camps, and the plainsfolk raiders brought by the Tamsi harassed us. Those troops less used to soldiering became skittish and found it hard to rest even in midst of the camp. Sleep wasn't helped by the midsummer nights, which never dimmed darker than red-hot twilight. The Sun. Even through the light grey clouds, it swelled the wet air full of suffocating warmth. When the rain didn't make everyone miserable, the swarms of biting insects picked up the slack. I myself could sit in the bug-deterring smoke of a bonfire, but that was a viable option only to us far-gone serpentists. Knights of the clans beat up their commoner comrades for 'irreverent behaviour'. Soldiers managed to get riotously drunk despite limited supplies of beer and wine. Wrestling competitions between regiments turned into all-out brawls. The massive mixed herd of camp followers was constantly accused of theft, or harassed without even the slightest of excuse. Foragers needed to range ever farther to find villages still unpillaged. The dead, their corpses buried without proper rites if at all, stirred and befouled the spirits in the earth, air and water. The constant chants of our sages did little to stop the spread of disease. We had to move forth and force a pitched battle. Lurankoju agreed. This time he browbeat all his doubters. Any further reinforcements would come too late. A day of jockeying for positions showed no victor. Both armies formed across a wide field, which offered little advantage to either side. A few miles behind the Tamsi forces were the red walls of Munni, with the highest temple towers peeking above. Beyond the capital, Sulme was doing gods knew what, if he was still alive. A pang coursed through my abdomen. I placed my hand on my hip, with fingers on the black steel breastplate, which hid my belly and its small protrusion. Perhaps it had been a mistake to let myself get with a child. However, we both had deliberately done the required deeds and enjoyed them. As long as I survived, our child would remain the fruit of our love. I could no more pretend that the pregnancy wasn't affecting me. The child already had strong enough spirit to addle my own. Yet mother- beasts tended to be fierce even when gravid. It was not like the womb physically hampered me yet. "Hang on," I whispered. "Just this one battle, and I promise I will give up eating field rations. When you come out, you will have fat breasts to suckle on." My brigade took the left wing next to a patch of forest. Our responsibility was to contest the hillock in middle of battlefield in front of us, drag our cannon up there and rain iron on the enemy. All the while doing our best not to get flanked. Of course, the situation might change any moment in a battle. My thoroughly drilled troops could be trusted to manoeuvre further. Even on horseback, I couldn't get a proper view of the whole Ekran army, and the enemy was hidden by the uneven terrain. I hated that sense of uncertainty in battle. Very close, was a massive shifting threat, like a ravenous bear behind a thicket. Tiniest of occurrences, of which soldiers were scarcely aware of, determined if they survived or died. Even the generals never had enough information. I didn't envy Lurankoju his job. The negotiations were short. The Prince didn't bother to make an appearance himself. Instead he demanded that I should treat with him personally. I wouldn't risk getting anywhere near his essence. Both sides gave their ultimatums of 'surrender or face arbitrary consequences', and left. Champions were sent in the middle, but neither side managed to beat their enemy's songs. The gods desired more than the blood of few men, before letting the outcome be decided. Other commanders were addressing their men for the last time. I rode with my mounted bodyguard in front of the the Lady's Life Guard. My little soot-worms. I had already lost a few, but in battle many more would taken from me. Perhaps even half, and that was if we won. Filled by Umu's flame, they would fight to their last breaths. I had to make sure I survived to issue the retreat, if things went under. Every one of them deserved a hug from me. My eyes turned watery, and I had to trot back and forth along the lines until I calmed down. "Look yonder, men!" I pointed at the Munni walls. "The Ekrans of the city look upon you, in hope of liberation. Our merry black band will catch their eyes. Many a pretty unmarried girl will think to themselves 'why do those brave chimney-sweeps clean their little iron chimneys on the battlefield?'" Laughter and barely forced smiles. My men could pretend they weren't as scared stiff as I was. "Make no mistake," I continued. "Though I am a woman, I did not choose you lot for your boyish good looks. I took you, because discipline sticks to you well. Let your drilling and my commands decide your actions for you, and we will outshoot and overcome any foeman. "The veteran mercenaries brought by the Tamsi have fought in more battles than you can easily count up to. But we can crush them, for they care for naught but coin. The true threat are the Prince's own units: the core of his conquest. They are pawns to his will, utterly merciless and disciplined without fault. The cost of their equipment makes their accountants cry in their sleep. They boast of distinctions spanning generations under the thrall of the Vonir princes." I took the lance with a small snake-eye banner from my bodyguard. "This is your chance, my little soot-worms, to start a glorious tradition of your own. Win now, and men will fight like heroes under your banner, just to live up to your exalted memory." My officers let out a hurrah, which was answered by the men. The first ensign lifted our main standard. A proud smile spread the boy's mouth. The bodyguard took his banner-lance back, and I continued: "You fight for your motherland. In your hearts are your families, who back home hope for the news of freedom and dread the tidings of renewed slavery. Our ancestors will fight with us, as will any of our comrades that fall, for the lives of my faithful do not end in death." I pointed my handgun towards the enemy. "To end the miserable existence of a Tamsi is mere generosity. Let us be magnanimous this day!" A mountain of dark clouds approached from the inland sea. The Prince called the weather to widen his options. I was prepared, but the sight of a blackening wall in heaven struck me restless. My nerves remembered the lightning bolt. Thunder had often accompanied us, when I marched in the Prince's army. Heavenly fire had the uncanny if uncommon tendency to strike his enemies. Horns bellowed across our army. I gave the order, and our brigade marched forward to the rattling beat of drums. Though the ground was wet, the movement of thousands of men, and their horses and guns, lifted a thick dust cloud to limit my view further. The peasants, whose farmland we churned through, must have been cursing their rotten luck. Waves of terror threatened to splash over the dam of my composure. Never had I been so agitated before battle, not even as a powder kid loading handguns behind a shaking rampart. Now I had much more to lose than merely my worthless life. My death would rob both Sulme and our child from me. My soot-worms also relied on my ability lead them. I had commanded men into battle, but only small groups under experienced officers. The familiar rhythm of footsteps and war drums washed away my unease. The men showed no fear and neither should I. We all mere drops in a relentless cascade. Some would falter, but water taken from a river never stopped it. Pikes mounted the hill in front of us, followed by banners and the head's of Tamsi soldiers. Our counterpart had hurried to the elevated position, which had been closer to them. My men weren't discouraged, but continued the march. A crack of thunder. Smoke rose above the Tamsi formation. They had fired much too early. I smiled and glanced at my troops. Only a few had been hit. The rest marched on, undaunted. Another volley from Tamsi, but barely any of ours fell. We were close, at the base of the hillock. I commanded countermarch. Our formations stopped as if hitting into a wall. The first rank levelled their guns and shot. The second rank walked in front and fired their handguns. And then the third. All with admirable calmness, resulting in terrifying accuracy. I aimed my gun at a officer with a fancy hat. Pushing all of my hatred into the powder, I triggered my long arm. The standard-bearer next to the officer well. Decent shot. "Double volley!" I shouted. The signal horn bellowed. Two freshly loaded ranks of soot-worms marched in front of our formations. The first rank knelt. The roar of the guns shook the earth. The Tamsi broke, unravelling like a knot and disappearing behind the hill. I laughed. We hadn't even had the time to bring our field guns to bear. On quick march, we conquered the little hill and dragged our cannons on top. On the other side, two heavy Tamsi cannon remained stuck in the muddy earth. They might have ruined our day, but now they would help ruin the Prince's. My reserve cannoneers didn't need prompting to start their work. Though it was hard to drag the huge bronze tubes, turning them around was easy enough. Finally, I got a decent view of the battlefield, even if most was clouded by smoke and dust. Groups of tightly packed men were strewn across the terrain like the pieces on a game board. Two pike formations had collided, creating a huge beast of entangled spikes and agony. A squadron of clan cavalry had manoeuvred between the gaps, only to misjudge the distance between two companies. Lines of pikes quickly trapped the knights on all sides. Pity for the horses. Our reserves were increasingly in the fight, while those of the Vonir remained in their places. We were getting the worst of the fighting, but the day was far from lost. In middle of the Tamsi reserves, under a huge banner of an upside-down many-branched lightning bolt over a night sky, was the Fulgurite Prince. I only needed to glance in the deeper mirage to recognise the tall man through his polished armour. He was the same as I had known him. Bright, warm and distant as the Sun. Too bad he was too far for even the bronze guns. Our cannons shook my little hill, as they spewed iron death into the flanks of Tamsi formations. A reserve detachment of gaudy mercenaries marched towards us. I order my troops ready into an aggressive formation. We wouldn't settle for defending some little mound of dirt. A flash of lightning filled my vision. I half-fell off my saddle, but my hand managed to clutch the reins. It was fortunate that my horse was so calm that it allowed me to drag myself back up. The real Thunder bellowed over the roar of guns. Above Munni, Lightning streaked across the blackened sky. My already frantic heartbeat picked up pace. I decided to dismount. I had more than one reason not to fall off my horse. I took a spyglass from a captain and looked at the Prince. It was him. And he was looking at me with a serene expression on his face. My bile seethed. He had made me. Because of him, I had been trained as a serpentist. He had doomed me and my comrades to death by withdrawing support, to merely distract the enemy by the flames of our last stand. My fingers coiled around my handgun. I aimed at the Tamsi tyrant and pressed the trigger. Only gods know, where the bullet went, but it wasn't in the eye of the Fulgurite Prince. If the approaching mercenary regiment hadn't been on the way, I would have ridden straight towards the Prince. Instead of charging into a wall of pikes, I hurried to the bronze cannons. The cannoneers looked at me confused. "Load grapeshot!" I commanded. The headman of the cannon nodded instead of arguing about the overlong distance. I began my song of mastery and flames, of the sacred treachery, which the cannon and its powder were committing against their lawful owners. My cannoneers set fire into the cannon. The blast drove the bronze gun off its rack and send the men around reeling. Far away, a hole of two dozen men appeared in the approaching Tamsi formation. "Get the gun back to firing position," I shouted to deaf ears, but my soot-worms knew what I wanted. The gold-hungry fools kept coming at us. Though dazed, the cannoneers were swift to load my gun. Our own handgunners began to shoot over us into the Tamsi soldiers, which were closing to their own firing range. Through the fire, I willed the Vonir legions to disappear. Enraged sparks intruded into the womb of the cannon. The explosion sent me off my feet. I cursed at the pain and the sight of my new fancy overseas cannon. The damned piece had burst open. My Father hadn't blessed the cannon's making enough. My soldiers around the gun had fallen. Only a few tried to get up. I pulled the closest one standing and pushed him towards the safety of our ranks. The enemy had stopped their advance. Already they had patched the gap I had caused in them. On a glance, their pike formation outnumbered mine two to one. My men needed room to gun them down. On unstable legs, I hurried to the powder kegs of the bronze cannons. If the Tamsi wanted to fire at me, good, as it would help my men outshoot them. I carried the powder kegs to other cannon and commanded the stubborn cannoneers still on their legs to retreat. I screamed a stave, and the unleashed fire rent the hillside. PART V - Steel and Temper CHAPTER 24 The ramrod snapped, as I tried to force another bullet into the soot- filled barrel. I threw the useless gun at the approaching pikemen. Storm had watered the ground into mud, yet it couldn't extinguish our matches, backed as by Umu's power as they were. Though the lacquered covers did their part to keep the mechanisms dry. Our drums beat to our thinned ranks. Despite the screams of the wounded and the silence of the dead, my men continued to shoot with respectable cool. The enemy pikemen were driven back again, but their retreat remained in frustratingly good order. In the shroud of rain, the battle raged, but the roar of guns had dampened everywhere save our little hill. The armour of the Prince's cavalry mirrored a flash of lightning. The drenched soil hampered them but didn't stop the Tamsi knights from cutting down the all but defenceless Ekran infantry. Lurankoju had commanded me to flank the enemy line. But I couldn't. Only the hill kept us from being overrun. Soot-worms deserved more than their lives spent in a heedless gambit. My body shuddered. Another flare of purple veins had crossed the clouds, only to disappear. I straightened myself. My men never faltered in the face of death, thus their commander didn't cower from a memory. Brutal engulfing light. The scents of the heavens and rain on earth. The mirage itself cracked, loud enough to sunder my ears. The world around me shivered, until only my body did. I remained upright but petrified. My shoulder was touched, and I jerked away. One of my officers moved his lips. "--you alright, lady?" "What?" I asked. "Lightning. She hit the banner." I spun around. Beside the ragged snake-eye flag, lay the first ensign. A soldier dragged him to the temporary safety behind our lines. My legs followed, and I grabbed our banner with its molten and broken worm. The boy breathed raspy short whines. A tree of flared flesh coursed up the first ensign's arm and to under his frayed coat. Glazed eyes, which should have burned with hatred for me, only stared unfocused. His lips drew into a struggling smile. Only our banner had saved me from the heavenly wrath. The chance of victory slipped from our fingers, as I tarried. "You dropped the colour." I thrust the pole deep into the ground. "Keep our banner upright, soldier." The boy wrapped a shaking hand to hold the flagpole. I knelt and took out my old witchlock pistol from his holster. My former page had found a sprite of fire for the gun. It was a weak thing, barely strong enough to ignite powder. "You have served me well." I gripped his hand and crushed it in my grip. "Yet I am a fell Mistress and a grand Traitor." I blew into the pistol. "Betray." Filled with my desire, the spirit poured out of the gun into the boy's clothes. The flames ate his flesh, as I had consumed his mind. And he smiled. The heat in the furnace that bites the smith's hand. The lone spark from the oven, which sets the house ablaze. The deflagration in a bursting cannon. The untrustworthy flame. The unbridled fire. That was Umu. My spirit subsumed the little sprite of fire, as it spread to gnaw my body. The straps of my armour snapped. I rose over the heads of men and laughed a wild shriek. The little soot-worms turned to stare at me. Many were afraid, but a few cheered. I would have grinned, had I had the lips for it. I kept my head down, as I surged past our ranks after the fleeing enemy. None had the will or strength to defy me. A mercenary in his vivid garb knelt in front of me. Presumably pleading to whatever gods he believed to listen. I was one of those, and so I paused. In his dialect from overseas, he named Luiheki. Thus he deserved another chance. As a blessing, I touched him with my tongue. My flank was pricked by a sharp object. I left my new devotee and turned to face the brave and foolish pikeman. Before I could decide his fate, a glare forced me to squint my lidless eyes. A star on the ground. Distant, cold and without mercy. The Fulgurite Prince. I streamed at him like a tidal wave of fire. He left his mounted cohort and rode towards me alone. As if I wasn't a real threat. The hooves of the broad-chested horse struck crystal sparks even on the mud. The Prince's armour shimmered like a serene lake. He drew his bow and let loose an arrow of lightning. I twisted, and the bolt hurled above my head. Before we hit each other, I veered away. My body extended enough to coil around the man and his mount. Not bothering to make my words discernable without pain, I sang flames and ruin. The horse was a beast of mortal flesh, and so died. The Prince did not. He walked off the scorched carcass and dropped his bow and arrows on the ground with a clap of thunder. The Prince mocked me by withstanding my hate. He said a name, one which I had given up and didn't care to hear any more, even though it had once been precious in a way. "That name means nothing to me," I said. "Good." The Prince smiled. "You have slain a mount of mine most loyal. Yet, instead of making you pay, I would talk in words of reason." I poured my wrath on him. The accusation washed off him like water over stone. Not even a sliver of guilt would his essence accept. The Prince lifted his sword and struck at me. The blade swung only through air, yet the Prince's regret coursed through me as agony. While I howled, the man sheathed his sword and sang. His staves were not those of any mortal tongue, but the imperious rumble of the heavens. Of merciless anger, he chanted, and of twisted words and unkept promises, of the guilt and innocent blood in my hands. Those I brushed off with the words of my will. I was the crowned Viper. All oaths I had broken. No shackles bound me, no bridle guided my step. I was as free as wildfire. "Free to burn your fuel," the Prince sang. "In the pursuit to fool, among ashes and soot and sorrow, above all, abandoned and alone, on your victory's morrow, having lost those your own." My mind hesitated, even though my body gnashed and twisted. I stared at the Prince. "Struck me and crush my mortal bones," the Prince said. "If it abates your anger. But your hatred cannot burn me, for it finds no kindling in my soul." I smashed him with my tail. The glint of his sword flashed through my flesh. The Thunder itself recoiled from the roar of pain. Dark blood gushed from my side and lit the ground in flames. For a moment we strove, two souls burning through their unearthly essence. The Prince staggered on his knee. I tried to snap at him, but my body only spasmed in place. The man took support from this half-molten sword and walked to me. He placed his foot on my neck, even though my trunk should have too large for him to mount. "Where does this ghastly strength well?" I demanded. "I am only as strong as others are weak." The Prince pulled his helmet off. His eyes burned like a star under a lake. "Such power has no worth in itself." My sliced body ceased its slithering. I said: "Kill me now, but do not humiliate me any further." "Do you truly want to die?" I didn't answer. The man moved his leg off me. I lacked the strength to even attempt to strike at him. The battle raged as if under liquid thicker than water. A branching bolt of lightning lingered on the sky for two dozen heartbeats "Don't worry about the fight," the man said. "We have time to talk." "Of what?" He smiled. "Haven't you noticed that I targeted the forces of the Ekran clans? Had you won here, they would have become your enemies. Yet together, we crushed them." "You wanted to kill them? But you made peace with them." "Only because they surrendered, before I could eradicate their lot. You have now given me the excuse to finish my work." "You made me into a traitor!" The Prince laughed, a patronising rumble. "In a sense that is true. I made you, in part." "Do you have a point? Beyond gloating of the misery you have inflicted?" He sighed. "I am sorry. Back then, I found it necessary. Now... I am not so sure. While the others were consumed by squirming swathes of foul spirits, you brought a sacred essence to our physical existence." Perhaps it was the bloodloss, but my mind worked too slowly to comprehend him. The Prince made warding gesture with his fingers. "The kindly gods take little notice to human lives. They never intervene." "Lightning struck me at Kauku." He smiled. "It was my curse, warding the freelord. I managed to rein it down, so it only struck you back into a human form." A flash steely wings filled my mind's eye. "But then you let me burn your fleet." "It was a necessary sacrifice. You needed a victory to make your people follow 'Umu'. The new Ekran fleet, which you have gathered, is sufficient for our needs in local inland waters." "'Our needs'?" "I want your help, Raizhuas." "'Raizhuas'..." I snarled. "The oven-whore. That is Tamsi heresy." "Perhaps it is. Yet, I considered the name more suitable than 'Luiheki'." "He is my Father." "Only as a river is the father of its tributary. Umu is the malign aspect of the Fire Servant, made manifest by the fires of this cruel age. I can help you mend yourself." "You want me as your slave," I seethed. "Should I accept, I will betray you." The Prince sighed. "That is your nature. But it doesn't have to be. If you can't see my point of view, consider your selfish interests. Such as your Nilkoan mercenary friend." "What have you done to him?" "His escapades prompted decisive action. Now, he is my guest, after he surrendered to save his crew. My fleets could use such a captain. Then there is your child." I shuddered. After the shocks in the battle, a woman's body would certainly miscarry. My mind wept, but my body could only let out pathetic inward gasps. "Do not fear for your spawn." The Prince smiled. "Your form has protected them thus far. Now, you must choose, 'Traitor'. You only need to betray your lover, your children and the trust I have given you, to cast down my tyranny." He knelt next to me and touched my back. "I don't want your current form or injuries guide your decision." The pain of my wounds faded, and I could feel my limbs again. My lying body was covered in bare human skin, though new huge pale scars ran across my legs and torso. "How?" I asked. "I am wrapped in human flesh now, aren't I?" the Prince said. "And I can perform the alteration on others. I will teach the method to you, later. It is quite simple, really, when one can pass the mental barriers." He helped me to stand up and guided a strand of fog to clothe me as a gown. "Joining you would be betraying the trust of my people," I said. "Yes." The Prince laughed. "You would gain strength from it, as your last deed as the grand Traitor. But in truth, it would be no betrayal. The Ekrans shall prosper under your rule." I frowned. "We would be your slaves." "That is the matter of definition. If by slave, you mean someone instructed to live in harmony, then yes. Their existence now, under the petty lords of your clans, is a bondage of another kind. There is no freedom in the struggle to avoid drowning in the strength of others." "If I agree, what then?" "You will be crowned the ruler of all Ekrans. I will require military assistance, and set a few laws, but otherwise you will be an equal partner in our alliance." "If you needed a puppet, you could choose from multitudes, which have never broken your trust." "Everyone needs mercy." "Even the clans?" The Prince nodded. "Yes. I wouldn't destroy them, if they didn't force my hand." "It is cruel to use an unborn child as a hostage." "That I haven't done. All in my actions against you, I have made sure to spare them. You yourself must decide their worth. I do not lie, when I say that you could still defeat me. Our clash did not leave me untouched." The bronzed skin of the Prince's face peeled back into a scorched grimace of a skull. In a flash he smiled again, calm and deceptively magnanimous. "Deceit," I scoffed. "War," the Prince agreed. I gestured the argument of honour away. "Your words are pretty, as always. They convinced me once. Yet you are a conqueror like the rest. There is no difference between you and the lowliest robber, save the degree of success." "Indeed. What am I but another wolf at the heels of former empires? Someone is always at the top. I have had the ability to ascend higher than most. Lofty enough, and I can afford generosity and mercy." I fell silent. We could have argued politics until the end of time. I could have made claims of my own, both those I believed or those didn't, to refute his assertions. Yet in the end, his mind wouldn't be moved. He had already heard all I could say: the echoes of the wise, the din of the fools, the wail of the strong and the mewling of the weak. "Very well," I said. "I will join you. Not because I agree with your delusions, but out of my own petty reasons. I promise this: I will betray you the moment it is convenient. Spare me now, and you will only feed an enemy." He smile. "Teissa, I hope you will see my point of view, eventually." The world around us sped up to catch the lost time. For a moment group of knights galloped towards us in unnatural speed, until they resumed their normal pace. "We will tell them that our duel was a draw," the Prince said. "It will make the peace easier, all the while being true. Neither of us was able to destroy the other." Again, he was patronising from the cardinal refuge of superiority. I grunted my assent. CHAPTER 25 The tired troops were quick to disengage from the fighting, and a truce was enacted. Lurankoju had given his life for his futile revenge, and Nimeri lay in his crimson-stained gilded armour, grinning. "Did we win?" the lordling asked. "I will rule the Ekrans," I said. Nimeri chuckled a cough. "Yes... I had the suspicion that bribe of silver was for you." "Are you accusing me of treason?" "Not at all. It is just that I finally realise I am a pawn of a pawn." I frowned. He wasn't exactly incorrect. "Rest, lordling," I said. "And recover. Pawns, no matter how insignificant, have their uses." The Prince hadn't lied about targeting the forces of the clans. Their power, grown through centuries but always fractured, was broken. A grim smile twisted my lips. I rode to my soot-worms. Their losses weren't nearly as crippling as I had feared. Yet nobody could claim they hadn't done their part in the fighting: the base of the hill was a putrefying mound of corpses. Instead of a traitor, I was saluted as their hero. After all, I had saved them, even if it had been through a mystic rite involving the self-sacrifice of the First Ensign of the Guard. My soldiers had given their lives to enact my whim. That was their function, and they didn't resent it. I forced myself to go through the fallen one by one and bless them for the afterlife. They had paid dearly for such cheap words. They had left me with the burden to make their deaths worth it. I could almost be bitter. The short negotiations were a strange thing. Both sides acted as if they had won. Only the slain rued their defeat. The Prince did little to shackle my rule over Ekra. Only his mercy tied me to him, though he pretended that he hadn't spared me, but that I had been perfectly capable to kill him. It was a lie. An unborn thing bound me, but I chose not to interpret it as such. The inhuman clemency of the Prince ensnared my mind, as it had once before. "I want to go to Sulme, now," I said. The Prince smiled, much too pleased with himself. "I don't have your Nilkoan. He was too slippery to catch, as if the waters itself guard him." "You lied, then." "I admit so. Do you want to change your decision?" To exhaust any doubt, I entertained the thought of ritual filicide. A poisonous smile pursed my lips. "Of course not." He nodded. "We will return to Munni tomorrow." Back in my large tent, I told about the death of the first ensign to the girl, who had fancied him. I lacked the guts to admit that I was directly responsible, but then again, all death that day was my fault. The cry and tears turned into sobs and warm words, telling the girl's life wasn't over from the loss. Weary and dizzy, I lay on my cot. My joints ached, and though the transformation had healed my wounds, the scars were tender. Esurra sat on a stool next to me and took my hand. Her eyes had a strange admiring, almost frantic look. "We couldn't see it from the camp..." she started. "But they say you turned into a..." "A monstrous snake?" I suggested. "Well--" "I did." The girl leaned forward. "How did it feel?" "Like freedom. From responsibility, from all reason and from myself. But I was unwilling to give up my shackles. Thus I remain human." The girl's gaze darted to my abdomen and returned to look into my eyes. She nodded sagely, and I couldn't help but smile. A puppet doesn't receive only its direction from its strings but also its strength. Though I arrived with the Fulgurite Prince, Munni welcomed me as its new ruler. The Vonir governor had already departed from the land, and I entered the castle as its mistress. The success rang hollow. My spirit was not satisfied without either achieving total mastery or suffering annihilation. I floated through the following days like in a dream, if dreams could have so much reading of letters and writing of edicts. Ekran lands had to be reorganised, before those I was about to crush realised, what was happening. The clans had proved themselves impotent to safeguard Ekra, and so they were banned from massing more troops than a small bodyguard. They would pay taxes like peasants, though the highborn would retain certain privileges of rank, like the right to hold low justice in their lands. Attisa I declared a free city under my immediacy. They would keep the lands I had granted them, and gain right to trade in the capital without tariffs. All other towns in the land were taken from the clan control. I had to avoid any harbour-side windows, lest my gaze got stuck in the sea. There had been no word of Sulme, since the truce had been declared. I suspected that the Fulgurite Prince had lied about my Nilkoan and was hiding him, but I couldn't figure out a motive. The Vonir tyrant hadn't made any attempt to blackmail me. Though I was ever vigilant for it, the Prince gave me no further additional reasons to hate him, and I detested him for it. My hatred was a cage with its hatch open, yet the animal in me feared to leave, lest the glimpse of freedom was a trap. Perhaps the Prince wanted me to prefer to be his pet instead of an enemy. His mercy had always been a calculated form of cruelty. In his attempt to subdue me, he was as helpful as anyone could have expected. In the privacy of my castle, the Prince taught me secrets of staying and changing. He poured his knowledge so freely, I almost believed he hid nothing from me. Undying flame flickered in the ghost-candles. Their light wasn't able to conquer all the shadows in the secret room. Acrid scents spread with unseen currents from the murmuring alembic, and mixed with the dusty smell of tomes too old for casual perusing. "Every day I wonder, which one of us is mad," I said. "You for empowering me in earnest, or I for believing there might not be a price." "Would you prefer, if I dragged you in chains to a lightless cell?" the Prince asked. "The motive in that would be easier to comprehend." "To you, pointless spite is understandable?" The Prince's smile was patronising. All the retorts in my mind were petulant. I said: "You know, prince, you have treated me with such fairness that I have started to forget why I hate you so utterly." The man turned away. "I am sorry that I caused you pain." "Why do you care?" I snapped. "A hero like you should slay me. I am but an abomination." "Many think I'm one." The Prince looked at me. His eyes were watery depths. I stood up and nearly tripped on my chair. "No..." The features of the Vonir tyrant shifted. Only a little. I had been a fool not to notice the resemblance. Presently, he was smaller, less regal, kinder, closer. "Do not take his mien," I snarled. He frowned. "I can't bear to deceive you any longer. You deserve the truth." "Bastard." I glanced at my body. "What am I to you, a breeding sow?" "No!" Sulme stood up. "I love you, Teissa." I tried to run away, but my body didn't let me. "If that was close to any truth, you would have told me, right from the start." "How? Who has the courage to tell the woman he loves that she in truth hates him?" "Love!" I spat. "You could not have loved me, before you started to pretend that you were my friend!" The man closed his eyes and performed an overt breathing exercise. "When I joined you as the son of a mercenary, I wanted to see what kind of leader you would be through your revolt. I thought I admired your strength, but perhaps it was love from the start." "Then you just accidentally inseminated me. Now I must choose between giving birth to your spawn or killing my child." "Children. There's three of them." The room dimmed into a fog as grey as the ashen taste in my mouth. The chains holding my legs shattered. I ran through dark corridors and up twisting stairs, until I was at the highest wall. The sea raged red in the light of the Sun, which crawled up from the horizon to blast the midnight. The drop from the parapet was high enough to end me. I placed my hand on my abdomen. Perhaps it was better, if the world was spared from my progeny. Their father was a deceiver and a tyrant, and their mother was no better. Steps echoed on the stone behind me. "Stay back," I said. "I need room to breathe. Otherwise, I will fall off." "Alright," the Prince said. His breath was erratic, sniffling, short. Sobbing. Tears had already wetted my cheeks. I added pitiful gasps to the shame. "If..." The Prince started and paused. "If I could go back to undo everything, I wouldn't. Any change at all, and I'd never have been with you." I turned around. The tall shape stood on the last stair to the walls. Umu tingled at the borders of my soul. I could call on Her and perform a most viscious betrayal. The Prince wouldn't even resist. I walked to the man. "Give me your sword." He hesitated, but unsheathed the blade and gave it to me. "Please. Don't hurt yourself." The weapon writhed cold and venomous in my hand. "Extend your head." The man obeyed. I made slow practice slash up and down to his neck. He didn't even wince. The skin of my swordhand burst into scales as black as iron. My ambition and revenge remained one slash away. I squeezed my off-hand into a fist of claws. The end of the tyrant, the Prince of all cursed Vonir, was in my power. With him dead, no mortal could defy me. They'd bow to me and burn. I stood high on eight talons. A tail whipped impatient under my gown. Down in Munni, the fire of every lantern and hearth flickered ready to erupt as fellfire at my will. What a spectacular sacrifice my new capital would make. Every battlefield would be worship in my honour. Each torched home sanctified as my shrine. All victims of immolation my disciples. No prayer to Amsama can shake the foundation of my reign, for I shall be the rightful regent of the Tyrant's heirs. Once of age, they'd try to claim their inheritance, but the matriarch of perfidy has a long memory and little forgiveness. The three princelings lack any hope against their mother in the game which she embodies. As her chains melt and bridle snaps, the Irradiant Queen ascends, magnificent as a thousand dawns in the blink of an eye. Only one obstacle, one grand treason, and my road to rule was carved in the roots of the world. Take the life of the man, whose affection had tethered me to human weakness. He deserved to burn as I had. Burned, like my heart had in his presence, like my skin had from his touch, like my belly had with him in my thoughts. I deserved that aching heat. Without it, ash choked my hearth even in my fiercest rage. He had shackled me, true. Through kindness and foolish apologies. We were worth each other, in vileness and glory and passion. That love, which had engendered the three precious fruits in me. "You truly are Sulme." "Yes." My scream shook the ramparts and sunk the city in darkness. The sword shattered, and I let the hilt drop from my grasp. The night bore the responsibility to hear me weep in silence. "Let's go back inside," the Prince whispered. "So we can talk." Back in the hidden room, I slumped on the chair. The man, previously so familiar and now an enemy, knelt next to me. He took my monstrous hand, and I let him. He deserved to be humiliated... mutilated into a nameless thing of remorse and agony. Yet that nasty desire was nothing compared to the memory of that little boat, on which he had wrapped his arms around me. "Why did you have to ruin it all?" I asked. "Believe me, Teissa, many a time, I considered giving up everything to be with you. But I had my duty." "You forced a war. Thousands died for us." "If the clans hadn't fought me, they would have fought each other, over and over, like they have since before written memory. Their sons would have kept raiding the lands of others, including mine. If I had taken them down one by one, it would have taken years... No, decades of devastating war. In two relatively bloodless battles we consolidated Ekra. Tens of thousands will not have to know war, thanks to us." "You are ruthless." "I admit." "It is rather hypocritical of me to accuse you of that." "Perhaps a little." He smiled his familiar smile. "Oh... Sulme." I hugged his strong neck and slid of the chair. After we calmed down and dried our faces, we sat next to the wall, as the room had no wide bench. "Was it all an act about your lack of experience?" I asked. Sulme hesitated. "How is that pertinent?" "Answer me." "I never lied to you, if I could help it. Besides, why do you think I would lie about something like that?" "The Fulgurite Prince always seemed so ageless, which I must have mistaken for venerable years. I do conflate him with his father, however. To me, they are all the Prince of Vonir." Sulme brushed my hair. "I'm not much older than you. But cultivating a world-weary attitude helps with the respect of the troops." "Was it really your curse, which struck me at Kauku?" "Yes. I am sorry. Can you forgive me?" "I can. It was you, who called your mother to save me, wasn't it?" "Mum wouldn't have been there otherwise. She's of the folk of the inland sea, not the smaller lakes." We talked of our past and the intricate schemes, which had given the Prince of Vonir the time to be Sulme, much to the vexation of his chief magistrates. Being able to fly with the wings of storm did help. Sulme placed a hand on my belly. I flinched from a warm wave through me. "If someone had proved half a year ago that I would be pregnant with Vonir bastards, I might have jumped from a high parapet." The man frowned, but quickly regained his smile. "Who is to say they have to be bastards?" "Are you..?" He kissed my cheek. "I did advice you to marry advantageously." I leaned on his shoulder. "I still hate you, oh Vonir Prince. Yet my ire has mellowed enough to let you work on my affection." His hand lay to my thigh and began to pile up my skirt. "I have another matter I wish to work on. Can you imagine, what kind of bitter frustration has it been to be separated from you, first by distance then by a lie? A man has needs." I laughed. "Every night I have thought about you, usually in the vein of a bitch in heat. But this is not the place. The floor is cold and hard." A giggle escaped my lips, as I sneaked through the gloomy hallways with the Vonir Prince. His hands had slain multitudes, yet now they were a sweaty shackle around my scaled wrist. When we paused to let the nightly wanderers pass, he wasn't able to keep the other hand from roaming on all sorts of needy soft places. "Oh, aren't you ravenous, my prince," I gasped into his kiss. "Have the Vonir hussies left you starved?" "I have become choosy after tasting the best." I turned giddy enough to faint. Luckily, strong arms could carry my long frame to a small guest room. The Prince locked the doors, dropped me on the bed and began to work on removing my garments. Black snakeskin glistened in what little light there was in the gloom. "Do you want me to use those methods of changing?" "What sort of silly question is that?" His kisses wandered across the line of the serpentine corruption. "Is your name really 'Sulme'?" I looked at the flower painted on the ceiling. "Yes." The man used his teeth to open a knot in the lacing. "It's the name given by my mother. You can call me that, or Ietserin the Third if you prefer." "I will probably continue calling you the Vonir Prince." "It sounds like an insult from your lips." "Exactly. I need wear off the spi--" I yelped. Lips had touched by bare abdomen. "Are you comfortable lying on your back?" Sulme asked. The bed had been soft enough to accommodate my tail, to the point I had scarcely noticed it. "My belly is still light enough not to press my insides down. But place no weight on it." Sulme found an awkward position, in which he could fulfil my wishes, and guided his rod into me. Though his nudges were clumsy, my brain filled with cuddly clouds. I clasped the man's shoulders with little heed of the claws ripping into his shirt and scraping his skin. My tail curled between our legs, but it needed some effort to reach Sulme's back and slip underneath his shirt. A glowing burst surged through my crotch into my body. I shivered. "Oh..." Sulme said. "Sorry." He pulled out, leaving a familiar slimy sensation. "You finished already?" I asked. Sulme collapsed to lay beside me. "Yeah. Pent up tension. I'll be up for another go soon enough." "It is alright." I pressed against him. The air was warm enough that no blanket was needed, but I piled some on my toes. "I never apologised for hurting you," I said. "Or your horse. So, I am sorry." "It is fine. I shouldn't have ridden her to you, but I needed to get away from my men, lest they thought to help me." Sulme kissed my neck. "Perhaps I was stunned foolish by your beauty." I chortled. "You certainly know, how to compliment a girl." CHAPTER 26 Few things else could mend grievances than a good big wedding. It was thus also in our case. The moment the engagement was announced, Tamsi and Ekran faithful were again eager to pretend they had never not been brethren. The ceremony began with my coronation in the main hall of the castle in front of the throne, which I had ordered to be brought from Attisa. Afterwards I'd sent the seat back, so the Issoans might bask in the symbolic presence of my stately buttocks. Though the heavy robes of orange velvet hid my form thoroughly, I kept myself human in order not to alarm the foreign dignitaries. Save for a length of tail to keep as a personal reminder, and perhaps as something for later. I smiled at Prince Ietserin the Third, who handed me the crown. My new ceremonial headpiece had been wrought with my own fire from the bronze of the cannon I had blown up. I placed the heavy band on my head and declared myself Nolnumi the Second, the Sovereign Princess and highest chieftain of all Ekrans, Issoans, Nilkoans and the Lamtenese; the mistress of the inland sea and its daughters; the lady of a bunch places including serene Munni; and the protector of primordial Attisa and others. What followed was an elaborate a sluggish procession that crawled through the twisting streets of the city. Nobody could have faulted me had I taken a carriage in my state, but I wanted to make abundantly clear that I was in full control of myself and my fate. Ietserin's clammy hand did help keep the walk bearable, and a part of my soul revelled in the festive din of the townspeople. Out of the reasons for the elation, one must have been the chiefest: our armies hadn't been on the field long enough to destroy the local harvest, so the dreaded wartime famine had been averted. We entered the Great Fane of the Servant Flame, which had been painstakingly rearranged to suit both Ekran and Tamsi sensibilities. Hasty donations to the patron of the city's new mistress had increased the temple's splendour threefold, though the resulting abundance of rich cloth and precious metals did give off a gaudy impression. So thick with incense was the air that I wondered if anyone save I could breath easy in that house of flickering flame, glinting gold and deep shadow. What followed was a mixed liturgy ritual to wed me and the Vonir Prince as equal partners. We exhanged whispered secrets of mastery over each other, to bind the sundered traditions in a mystery of divine contradiction. I was his and he was mine. The chants, bows and slow walks around the temple ended with a fertility rite, made obscene by my belly. It was apparent to all that it had been half a year since the last time my fecundity had been in question. Nevertheless, a ruler was the embodiment of her realm, and the additional blessings were to be channelled through me. It was a responsibility I was glad to carry out, even if I ended up pregnant again soon after the current litter. Under my hand, the mound of my abdomen formed a fine spherical symbol of my authority over the breadth of the earth. Back in my ceremonial bedroom, my maids helped me out of the gorgeous mountain of garments, while Sulme watched with an amused smile. "To think--" Esurra started and curtsied at the man. "I am sorry, my prince." "What were you going to say?" I asked. "Do not worry. That man is in my leash." "If you insist, lady." "That I do." "As you command, my lady." The girl sighed with exaggerated resignation. "I was going to say that 'to think I considered the Nilkoan unworthy of the lady'. Though not necessarily in such cordial words." "I take no offence," Sulme said in his resonant princely voice. He leaned back on his chair. "If you consider it, my conquest is all the more impressive, due to the pretence of vagabondage." "'Conquest'," I scoffed. "Next you are going to call your children a garrison." "I fear that would have political ramifications." The last part of my attire above the undergown fell off, and I shooed the girls away. I sat on the bed and leaned back on my hands like a statue of a gravid autumnal goddess. Sulme was quick to undress, even though he had a good part of the state robes still on. He sat next to me. "Are your feet sore from standing all day?" "Yes, but my back aches more." I turned to present my backside to him. The man began to rub the tightened knots of muscle, sending me into a dizzying state of content sighs. I made sure to wag my tail, even though the movement was rather unnatural for the clumsy appendage. It encouraged the man to caress that extension of my spine. While I gained no direct tactile pleasure from the attention, Sulme's personal interest in me was always appreciated. "When will you leave?" I asked. "In a week. But you only need to call my name to the sea wind, and I will come." "Which name?" "Whichever you want." "Oh, will 'Tamsi tyrant' work?" Sulme chuckled. "Maybe. But after today's rituals, you might end up calling yourself." I sighed. "The mess I made of Ekran theology will take years to straighten." "Let the sages, the wise and the learned fight over it. Eventually they will come up with just the right words to get in the favour of both you and your people." Sulme traced a finger on one of the long scars. "Do these still hurt?" "No, but you can pretend they do. I like you guilty." "Oh, the guilt seeps all the way to my marrow, even if I acted to preserve my life from getting crushed by your weight." "Are you calling me fat?" "I certainly haven't seen a woman with as majestic curves as yours." I laughed. "One day I will take the form of my essence, and we will do the deed. You will know an embrace no mortal has survived." "Have you noticed, how those of my men, who saw you outside Munni, look at me, when we are together?" He kept rubbing up and down the small of my back as if spreading dough. "There is fear in their eyes, but also envy. They do wonder what is it like to bed a creature like you." "Let us proceed to the bedding, then." I moved to all fours and presented my rear. "Unfortunately, your wife is not untouched." My tender breasts hung below me like the teats of some pasture animal. Sulme's fingers did their best to claim my flesh, but there was too much of me for just two hands. The man positioned his member for entrance. Through a slow thrust, we were joined. I pressed my face against the bed, not out of pain, but to stem the tide of tears. "What's wrong?" Sulme asked. "Nothing," I mumbled. "I am a bit overwhelmed." "Understandable." Sulme returned to his steady work of lust. As soon as I worked through the wave of sentiment, I began to answer my husband's movements. However, I had to careful, as too strong impacts made the soft mass of my body wobble in a disconcerting way. My fragile concentration barely allowed me to slap his torso, which caused the man to clutch the tail for additional leverage. We both knew that he would be playing with fire should he actually pull me from my spine. "I want to see your face," Sulme said. "Can you turn on your side?" After adjusting our positions, we found a tangled way for me to lay comfortably on my flank with Sulme still inside me. He put a hand on my hip and with the another stroked my belly. The muscles of his arms were like bellows in their movement, yet his touch was gentle, if a bit demanding. He wanted me in spirit and flesh. His seed had already claimed my depths as their fertile soil. Sulme kept his eyes locked in mine. I forced a wry smile in order not to ruin the moment by crying again. My hand crawled to clutch his fingers, to form a bond that was more than that of mere beasts mating. The man smiled his smile, which had seemed so haughty and patronising, when I had found myself vulnerable. Now the expression was only assured and kind. My climax was a small long thing without much fanfare. I had been light- headed already. Sulme continued to satisfy himself. I stretched my frame: my back, loosened by the earlier massage, felt almost as good as the copulation. Sulme finished inside me rather pointlessly, as if marking his territory. He collapsed on the bed, and we crawled further to lay in a embrace. His hand crept to my bump. Perhaps he enjoyed touching the fruit of his deeds, though he probably understood the enjoyable tingling it caused deep in me. Nothing was a more distinct demonstration of what I had gained. The hollow, bitter, unknowing existence of Ryymi was far gone. I was free to be more than destruction and spite. I nuzzled my head against the broad chest and filled my lungs with the scent of storms, lakes and strong striving men. The imposing galleon slipped into the misty horizon and took my husband with it. The world didn't suddenly collapse, as I had half-assumed. Over the week, I fell into a routine of government. Though nothing threatened the existence of my principality, rulership required me to rely on subordinates separated from me by distances I had no time to cross. I had to wrangle the realm based on hearsay and without direct knowledge of what my commands in truth resulted in. Frustration mounted in me, though at least the courtiers were very careful not to fail me. It paid to be considered a volatile she-beast, as long as I didn't bungle my princely duties. My relief was in the sea wind and even the storms, though lightning still made me stiffen. My husband was with me in spirit. Perhaps Sulme found similar respite in the hearth-fires of his fortresses. I liked to think he was reminded of me, every time a cannon bellowed. The Vonir Prince had tried to tame me. He might have even made some progress, but I still luxuriated in the crack of guns and the smell of brimstone, when my soot-worms drilled. I even shot at targets from time to time, even though my physicians abhorred it. As a concession I did use the smallest of guns, only suitable for killing small game. As the winds turned cold, I did my best to remain active. But my advancing pregnancy put weight to my suspicions that the bodies of human females had been designed awry. I was tall, eminently so for a woman, yet still my belly was too large for convenience. Odd symptoms, like heartburn, constant stuffiness and troubles at the privy, made me think I was ill with more than reproduction. Though I was trained and athletic, my body became ever more of a clumsy and pained wreck. My servants must have thought me stubborn, as I insisted that I walk as much as I could. Ultimately, I had to heed the advice and warnings. It was known that pregnancy of multiples were a danger to both the mother and a child. As a sage woman explained, the children would likely find the food and room inadequate and seek an exit before their time. "Can they allowed to claim as much blood and space as they need?" I asked. The sage glanced at my already prodigal abdomen. "There are rituals of that sort. But they put the strain on the mother alone. In your case, it would be threefold drain." I snorted. "The Fire Serpent can handle it." She frowned and pursed her mouth, but nodded. The ritual of chants, candles and medicinal grease turned out brief but evidently potent: the sage woman was as wise as she was wrinkled. "It is done," the sage said. "The safeguards, which the gods put on our reproduction, have been shattered in you. If you were any less affluent, the winter famine would claim you now." "Do I look like I have ever eaten more than my fair share?" I asked, in tones a little too feisty. "Not at all, lady. My aim is only to remind you that when you curse your decisions, you will remember it all could be worse." I didn't curse my decisions. I cursed the weakness in women's bodies. I cursed my mind, which had desired my state. I cursed the Tamsi tyrant, who had inflicted the horrid situation on me. I cursed the constant hunger and the illness, which came from all my eating. But I had the presence of mind not to curse my children, even if they had their role in my misery. They trashed like dogs in a sack. Or at least that was how it felt for the sack. I couldn't meditate to fade away the discomfort for longer than few moments, before one of the spawn had to remind mummy of how strong they were. Oh, how mighty they were. At times I was sure they could kick their way out of me instead of waiting for normal delivery. Sporadically, a flicker of light in my womb turned the skin into a translucent amber film streaked with dark veins. Yet the inhabitants themselves were too shadowy to be seen. The sight of me gnashing my teeth, burgeoning and lit like a furnace, must have steered many of the younger women in the court from the active search of motherhood for a good while. The Fulgurite Prince might have been in total control of his essence and form, but I hadn't been even when my composure wasn't frayed by the burdens of gravidity and the three additional hungry souls inside me. Scales had sprouted across my skin all the way up to the skull to protect me and my dear spawn from the harsh world. If you discounted my face due to the smouldering fury of my expression, little of me remained fully human. More than once I was tempted to give into the essence of Umu, but that form would have only guaranteed that my ravenous appetite might not be fulfilled even momentarily. I gazed out of my window and spit the names of the Vonir Prince. That day an icy storm rose, and I was too angry to flinch from the lightning. Clad only in the stuff of clouds, a tall man, pale from the winter sun, entered into my chambers. "Greetings, Teissa. Sorry that I haven't visited. The realm has kept me busy," he said. "How have you been?" "If I ever find out that you had a hand in there being more than one, I will skin you with my own claws." "Ah. That bad." He came to me and knelt, so I could hug him. Sulme pressed his cheek on my belly. "Will the birth be soon?" "It should start this week, by any conventional wisdom. However, I sang a rite to let them stay as long as they needed." "Are you afraid that they'll choose to remain?" "Do not even joke about it." One of the monsters kicked into my uterus and straight into the side of Sulme's skull. He recoiled sideways. "What the..." "Indeed," I agreed. Sulme smiled. "No wonder you are a little grumpy." "Not only that. I am also quite proud of their strength." "Yes, I'm glad too." "If any of them are girl, I will teach them to fight." Sulme shrugged. "Sounds reasonable." "I... Somehow I thought you would be averse to that." "Why? They would want to emulate you, the more so, if I forbid it." He grinned. "Besides, I've seen how you train your soldiers. Our girls will quickly sweat out the worst of their enthusiasm." Sulme clasped my hand. I sunk my claws close to drawing blood. He continued: "Now... Would you like to get to the bed and..." "These pangs ruin my mood," I said. "But I can swallow your eel, if you promise to pamper me the whole tomorrow, starting with a thorough palm rubbing and finger caressing." "I'd do that if you merely asked, but eel-swallowing sounds wonderful." Perhaps our children had heard their father's voice and were eager to meet him. The next morning, the tremendous moment, which I had dreaded and eagerly awaited, came. The contractions turned into a consistent ache, and my body imitated the creation-work of the Abyss by letting out a flood. I gave birth safe in the castle's shrine. Priestesses had kept the small circular room purified and free of masculine influences for the last week. In the middle, the birthing chair was surrounded by bowls emitting scented steam. The tamed forces of water and fire guarded me and my children, and the chants of the women sages, midwives and mothers aided the process. The whole congregation didn't fit into the room, even if it was spacious. I was given cool bitter draughts to speed up the process and help with the pain and stress, enough for me to shed most of the serpentine vestments of my body. Suspicions had gnawed my mind, but I had steeled myself against the possible visage of my spawn. I was determined to love them regardless. After all, eventually they would learn the means to change their physical form, if they strengthened their own spirit enough. Yet, when the midwife lifted the first baby for me to see, I sighed from relief. The weird little thing seemed to possess all the necessary features and nothing superfluous, though the skin was beet red. I voiced my suspicion, but the women assured me that the girl was healthy. When the second daughter and the son were out, the all-encompassing wave of relief struck me senseless. I rested and waited the creatures to find their voices. Soon enough, they screamed like tortured ghosts, or tiny warlords as one of the court women said. After I had fed the trio of voracious monsters, a priestess shooed everyone out save herself. I lay down on the comfortable bed, which had been dragged there, with the newborns in my embrace. The priestess weaved strong gentle songs of cleanliness, fate and protection, while I rested some more. The danger hadn't yet passed. Because the vulnerable infants and pollution of a recent birth would attract unclean spirits, I had to remain in the shrine room for three days without anyone but women as visitors. Sulme send an overly sweet poem about his pining and asked in a letter, what names I had considered. I answered that I'd give them names easy for me to remember, and any fancy names of ancestral worth could wait until their coming of age. When it was certain that neither me or the children were to die, Sulme could enter the shrine room. He managed two stately steps past the door, before rushing to us four. The Prince kissed the triplets on their foreheads and claimed them as his own, granting them the protection of his ancestors. His fingers tested the arms of his son. He smirked and tried the arms of his daughters. "They'll be strong in body," Sulme said. "And mighty singers, based on what it is said of their howling." "Undoubtedly." I smiled. "It is presumably convenient for the matters of succession that there is only one boy." Sulme shook his head in amusement. "Perhaps. But I aim to live a long life, before the subject becomes pertinent." He leaned over the children close to my face. "Besides, if my children are to fight over my crown, the tourney should be grand indeed. What do say? Should we retire to try and create more participants to my commemoration melee?" I hadn't washed properly in days. My hair clung to my skull, and the ravages of the pregnancy were apparent in my deflated yet lumpy body. But the young warlord in his finery wanted to stoke and abate desires with me, instead of any number of discreet coquettes and nubile servants available. Perhaps he only suggested it to make me feel better. I had to hold him on the offer, for no other reason to see how earnest he was. But the need just wasn't there, and everything in me still felt ravaged. "No, thank you, dear," I said. "Even if I was up to it, the women wiser than me say it is better to wait." The man smiled and took one of the girls to his arms. "Your well-being is the most important thing now. But I thought to ask, as I will have to return soon. The season might be winter, but my enemies do not hibernate." Our daughter grabbed her father's finger in her tiny hand. The instinctive grip was strong enough not to break, when Sulme moved his hand. She claimed her father, just as he had claimed her. The Vonir Prince looked down and smiled. "My foes can wait. There are more important people, who need my attention." THE END OLD AUTHOR'S NOTE: This was supposed to be a short story, but it blew into a short novel after a few restarts. I thought to post this in parts, but considering how niche it is to the site, I decided otherwise. Those who might want to read this, should be able to find it. Thanks for reading. I hope it was worth the length. NEW AUTHOR's NOTE: This republishing is for my vanity's sake, not so much for posterity. After 'A Damsel of Fey Dreams', 'Lady Serpentine' is my favourite of my own stories published here. I'm sure I'll get back to writing mythical early modern era fantasy, but it likely won't be fetishy TG stuff, as I have developed delusional aspirations of 'improving' myself as a writer (which has amounted to little more than never managing to finish anything). It was funny to re-read my notes for 'Lady Serpentine'. So many impenetrable and pointless allusions, just for some smutty pulp adventure. I'm really inefficient and pretentious. Also, Ryymi/Teissa wasn't actually a dragoon, but I needed something to describe her in the synopsis and 'harquebusier' would have been confusing. She did become a dragon however, but I didn't want to use the word in the story due to the misleading mental package the term carries these days. She's a more of a drakaina than the usual monster manual fodder. You might imagine a big cuddly Natrix natrix made of fire and sharp black steel. Thanks. All rights are waived on this text, CC0.