The Kingdoms of Evil (49 page)

"…uh, is that so?" Said Freetrick.

"Yes!" She jiggled again. "And, well, when one is a masochist and one has so many opportunities to find monsters especially designed to be sadists…you know many wendigos look just like real humans."

"My dear Dark Princess," Bloodbyrn's voice penetrated Freetrick's confused silence, "as much as I appreciate the entirely proper practice of sewing discord and chaos throughout the world, I propose that my lord has better things to do than listen to salacious gossip."

"Oh yes," Ashwing jingled her slave's chain playfully, "I forgot we have no need to resort to gossip here, for we have in our presence one who has experienced Feerix's…proclivities at first hand. So tell us, Bloodbyrn, what end of the lash does the Dark Prince prefer?"

Bloodbyrn's muttering was fortunately indecipherable.

"Now my lord," Ashwing said, "I only wanted to say how much I…how much I admire you, my lord." The honorific was almost a purr. "The way you killed that assassin? And the way you left the Council…well!" She placed the tips of her fingers at the place where the tops of her breasts merged with the smooth skin of her sternum and sighed.

"Oh," said Freetrick, trying not to look at her fingers, sternum, or breasts, "you liked it?"

"Yess," she sighed, "Pretending to cast aside evil like that, marvelous."

"Oh," said Freetrick, "Right. Yes, I did, didn't I?" He glanced at Bloodbyrn's stiff back. The ogres walking ahead of her were both looking over their shoulders at him. And smiling. "Maybe we should catch up with Bloodbyrn."

"Let her slow down if she wishes to be included in this parlay." Ashwing looked up at him from under sleepy lids. "Now your actions, my lord. They have added the delicious
spice
of chaos to the intrigues here."

"It's put the monsters into a real tizzy, I can tell you," volunteered the Kaimeera from behind them. "I heard you've been ordering three different breakfasts every day just to throw off the kitchen staff."

"Your rule is so…so
insane
, my lord," said Ashwing. The tip of her tongue trailed over her full lips. "
No
one knows what to do."

"Huh," said Freetrick. "Well, uh…good?"

She walked, looking at him as if she expected him to say something. Then Ashwing shot a look at the Kaimeera, inhaled, cleavage expanding dangerously, and said, "My lord Feerborg. Forgive me, but it is only…the way you swept aside all we know, the very foundations of our culture…it is at once forceful and subtle and," she swayed into him, "incredibly erotic."

Freetrick glanced again at Bloodbyrn, who was now looking over her shoulder too. While the ogres were still grinning tuskily, Bloodbyrn's expression somehow managed to be completely blank while at the same time communicating a complex message: "you are the one with the subtle wit, my lord,
You
may handle this problem. And if you do not, I will make your life miserable before, eventually,
I end it
. Does my lord understand?"

Freetrick sped up a little. "Well, thank you," he said to Ashwing, "I'm glad you liked it."

"It was spectacular." Ashwing matched his pace, the little barbed chains of her skirts clattering against his armored thigh. Freetrick looked down and sighed.

Bloodbyrn shook out her hand. There was a sound like two sides of beef smacking into each other as one of the ogres applauded. "I suppose spectacle depends on one's taste," she said, as if she had not just given her fiancé a tooth-cracking slap, "I thought my lord's performance at the Villainous Council to be foolish in the extreme."

"I agree entirely, it is all a matter of taste" said Ashwing. They had all stopped walking while Freetrick massaged his jaw, and Ashwing now took the opportunity to press herself against Freetrick's side. The Monster Killer looked at them with obvious disgust. "Some still enjoy the sadomasochistic sexual dynamic, for example, whereas others find it cliché and tiresome." She reached up to stroke Freetrick's swollen cheek. The shining black links of her slave chain dangled from it. "What is the phrase the Rationalists use when they wish express their concern over their love's grievous injuries?"

"Are you okay," said the Kaimeera, "honey?"

"Are you okay, honey?" Ashwing continued to stroke, although her hand had dropped to the nape of his neck. She smelled like fire, and cooked meat.

"Well," Bloodbyrn grabbed his wrist, "what some people call cliché, I am sure others would call
tradition
." She tugged on the arm, "and they would
appreciate
it for the
high art
that it
is!
Come
on
, my lord." She jerked again and nearly separated Freetrick's shoulder.

Freetrick stumbled and followed, Ashwing and the sardonic-looking Kaimeera trailing behind.

"Hm," Ashwing smiled up at Freetrick, "why does my lord allow this little…Sangboise to abuse her so? His is the power, the strength, the dark glory. But a word from his lips will cause a thousand furies to descend upon his…current fiancée and tear her bodily apart."

"
Thank you
, Ashwing," Bloodbyrn snarled, "but
my
lord has more important things to concern himself with than your pathetic attempts to foster intrigue."

"That-t's true," Freetrick stammered. Bloodbyrn was moving very fast. "And I don't want to kill her."

Bloodbyrn snorted.

"But I would like to be treated like an adult," Freetrick said, trying to stop, "for truth's sake stop yanking on me, Bloodbyrn."

She flung down his hand and turned on him. "An adult, an
adult
? You are the Ultimate Fiend! Must I remind you that we now travel to face your brother who this morning attempted to kill you, after a council session where, let me ensure my lord that he did
not
do anything spectacular with the exception of the spectacular fool he made of himself?"

"No," said Freetrick, "but—"

"
But?!"
The ogres shared an uncomfortable look as Bloodbyrn rose up on her toes and grasped Freetrick about the throat. "You
dare
say 'but' to me?" She pulled hard downward. Freetrick gasped and fell with a clang to his armored knees.

Bloodbyrn cast a razor grin at Ashwing over his shoulder. "My lord's behavior is intolerable. He will be punished
most
severely. Lady Ashwing," her eyes were wild, her smile so wide her molars showed, "you may watch."

"I am sure my lord would prefer that I interfere," Freetrick twisted around to see Ashwing stepping forward. A dark halo shimmered above her head.

"Whoa, wait."

"What my lord prefers matters less than what is good for him." Bloodbyrn straightened, flicked her wrist, and was suddenly holding her wicked little athame, already dripping with hot blood. "And it is important today that he learn a lesson in forbearance." She pulled the broad, black blade across the air in front of her, leaving an arc of little drops of blood sparking and smoking behind it. Behind her, the ogres shifted, planting their feet farther apart. "Shall you be the object of the lesson, Lady Ashwing?"

"Stop!" Freetrick said again, but Bloodbyrn, without looking away from Ashwing's face, reached down and struck him across the forehead.

"Do not think your punishment is prevented, my lord," she growled, "only postponed until I can deal with this…
little
problem."

"Little, yes," Ashwing agreed, "tiny compared to my lord's problem." She looked into Freetrick's eyes. "He is preparing to un-marry a foreign bitch who wants to torture and kill him."

Bloodbyrn laughed. "And what would you give him, Ashwing? Flowers and poetry? This is Skrea, and he is the King of Evil. My lord requires a woman of strength and cruelty to stand by his side."

"With her athame buried in his kidney, no doubt," Ashwing said.

"All right," said Freetrick, "enough. He pushed back from Bloodbyrn's hand when it came out to swat his head. "Bloodbyrn, stop this. Ashwing, I don't want—"

"What my lord? You don't want to be dragged to your knees by this little foreign viper? Then why do you not step away from her?" The slave chain dangled as she held out her hands.

"You know what?" said Freetrick, "that would be good idea. Oof" Dodging another swat from Bloodbyrn, Freetrick rolled back onto his feet and straightened. Shades of gara practice. If someone had told him four weeks ago that he'd be using Love-wielder martial dance steps to fend off the attacks of a Skrean despotess, he would have said…The inane thought flitted through his head:
yay globalization!

"My lord—" Bloodbyrn hissed, but Freetrick cut her off.

"My lord what?" said Freetrick. "My lord is being stupid? My lord should listen to Bloodbyrn? Strike it, Bloodbyrn, you just said you were going to
torture
me. And you haven't said you're
not
going to kill me. Why in the name of truth should I listen to anything you say?"

"Because
she
is planning to kill you!" Bloodbyrn's eyes had not left Ashwing. The tip of her athame dripped, and the drops of blood moved silently through the air to take their place in the spell floating before her. Freetrick had no idea what she planned to do with the drops of blood she had suspended in the air, and didn't want to find out.

"And that makes you jealous, huh?" Freetrick took another step away.

"Excellent, my lord," cried Ashwing. "Now come to me!" Very slowly, Ashwing was edging forward and sideways, always keeping her outstretched left hand between herself and Bloodbyrn. Ashwing lifted her right hand, the one attached by the chain to her slave. The chain spooled slowly down the arm to puddle on the floor

"No way!" Freetrick said, "you're planning to kill me too!"

"On the contrary, my lord. I plan to save you." She reached out a hand toward him, almost close enough to touch his shoulder.

"If my lord takes the hand of that puffed-up harridan," Bloodbyrn said, teeth clenched and blood still dripping sideways from her athame, "he will deserve all the events that follow." The ogres growled behind her.

"You
know
her, my lord. You know what faction she represents," Ashwing's eyes burned over a false, languid smile. "Join
me
, my lord, and together we will forge a grand new path for Skrea."

Ashwing pressed herself against his arm, and her face was suddenly a finger's width from his.

All Freetrick would have to do was open his mouth…

"Take me here," said Ashwing, "before these witnesses, and that poisonous little toad will have no recourse."

Freetrick had just enough time to register,
oh my. A choice. And this is probably an important one,
before Ashwing had wrapped one of her legs around his, and Freetrick suddenly remembered the parking lot at Eldritch college, the ogre carriage, meeting Bloodbyrn for the first time. With an effort, Freetrick wrenched himself away from her.

"Ashwing," he said, "I can't."

"You can," she said, "you
can
my lord!"

And there was the choice.
Freetrick shook his head. "I'm sorry. But maybe—"

Ashwing put her hand to his chest and shoved. Freetrick fell backward, caught himself, then toppled to the floor as Ashwing's foot swept his legs out from under him.
Oh,
he thought,
strike me out, I think that was the wrong choice.

Freetrick shook his head and looked up to see Ashwing standing over him, a statue in onyx and alabaster to the goddess of sex and fury. Her words, though, were calm. "I am so sorry to hear that, my lord." Her hair suddenly billowed upward in a gust of cold air. Black vapor bloomed over the lady's head as her fingers thrust down at him. "Goodbye."

"Oh." Freetrick spoke it out loud now, "oh strike me—"

There was a hungry
zzzziip
sound as a tiny red mote tore through the air at Ashwing. The black clouds over her head roiled as she smacked the droplet of blood aside. "Meddling bitch!" she snarled as she gestured with her other hand. Freetrick felt the floor tremble, but another red missile buried itself in the necromancer's mist growing around Ashwing's body.

Snarling, the Skrean princess hurled the burning blood to the floor. "You think to defeat me with your
Blood-magic
?" The air rippled with power and a black flame sprang up in Ashwing's cupped palm. "This is not the blood-god's nation, my dear, and it never will be." Waves of cold emanated from Ashwing was she raised her black-burning arms. "The first thing I shall do as First Concubine is throw you Leeches and your god back into the swamps from which you crawled. And tell your monsters to stand down, dear. The Kaimeera will rip them to shreds and digest their brains."

"Oh twisting clouds above me," Ashwing swore. "You, pet." She darted a look back at the Monster Killer. She jingled the chain. "Remove the Ultimate Fiend from my way."

The girl behind her emerged from the shadows, red crystal light glinting on the chains around her, a smile of pure elation on her face.

"Excuse the audacity for daring to attack you, my lord," Ashwing said as the chain unreeled from her wrist. It slid in loops across the ground as the Monster Killer drew her hands apart. "Of course I expect you will kill my pet in recompense, but I trust in time you will come to see why I had to make this sacrifice."

"What---?" Freetrick managed, before the Monster Killer was on him.