Ch: 162 Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger

“Heavies, forward, shields up!” Colette barked, while using her own shield to bat away a projectile. With a sharp clang, the blackened, sizzling clinker shattered, scattering hot, sharp fragments all around.

Issac and Mustafa followed orders bravely and well, charging into that hailstorm of scalding filth.

The rest of the warriors were scattered widely and staying low, providing few targets aside from the two armored men charging the beast.

A sharp crack accompanied the creature’s attacks, as it launched a steady stream of some kind of hot, brittle projectiles at them from hiding. With visors lowered and shields raised, both men pelted at the unknown creature, weapons held ready to strike.

Mustafa’s weapon had a heavy, narrow, steel hatchet blade, backed by a long, square spike. The short haft was also steel, ending at a simple grip with a diamond pattern deeply incised in the metal to provide a positive grip. Issac carried a stout mace of blackthorn with a round steel head.

Issac caught a shot to the thigh, it shattered into fragments on his armor, but threw him off to the side. As he stumbled two more projectiles blasted him striking his breastplate and helm.

Dented but still mobile, he scrambled back up with his brother, leaving sprinkles of blood in his trail.

Together they crashed into the low thornbushes their foe was hiding in, striking at any movement that presented itself. Issac’s mace crunched satisfyingly on something, before he was battered away by flashing wings and the horrid creature’s armored wing covers…

Mustafa hurled his hatchet with all his might as the giant beast took an ungainly, fluttering flight. Time slowed in their perceptions as the horror came into view.

Two long, flattened ovoid roach bodies were hideously joined at the head, by some accident of monstrous mutation. All eyes, mandibles and sharp, tearing mouth parts, the head was as big as a small pony, while each body was at least twelve feet long. It flew by flailing all its wings, resulting in a mad, fluttering undirected flight. It remained aloft only a few seconds, crashing back down into the tall weeds and brush.

Mustafa’s hatchet vanished into that confusing mass of legs, wings and carapace segments, but a high squealing cry said he hit something. Penz, for his part, had two arrows in the air before it reached the peak of its wild, uncoordinated flight. Both shafts sank home in a meaty abdomen, eliciting more cries from the nightmare thing. Two legs dangled limply from one of the bodies, pulped by Issac’s blow, it had a lot of spare legs to go.

It crashed to earth near Penz and Sammy, vanishing from sight. Slowly, the head rose from the grass and weeds, lifted by the two conjoined bodies scuttling closer together, raising the head for a peek. It spotted the two men at the same time they saw it. The thing came scurrying through the brush in their direction, jaws clicking and short jets of venom spraying from its mandibles as it clambered through the brush.

Sammy stepped to the fore, jabbing at the thing’s many eyes with his spear, while Penz added a number of feathered ornaments to its outfit.

It let out another squeal of rage and lifted off. Not quite as quickly as before, though. Sammy’s spear sank deep between a set of armor plates guarding its thorax… or something... whatever. It shrieked again, as he twisted his spear and wrenched down with all his might, gutting the leftmost body.

The creature’s aimless flight lasted only moments as life fled one of the bodies. With a sickening twist and lurch, the beast turned over and began chewing at the unnatural junction of its own corpse, devouring the connected parts quickly. The now single creature became distracted in its own flavor, munching happily on its cast off part. Until an arrow reminded it of the business at… whatever it had for hands.

The thing was lightning quick, now that it had only one body to direct, while Isacc was moving more slowly than he had been.

The armored warrior and nightmare bug met in a small patch of ground that was still scattered with stinkroach legs and wings from the prior battle. Heaving for breath, battered and bleeding from a small, ragged hole in his breastplate, he dropped his shield and mace, drawing a short, heavy, wide bladed spear from his back.

The thing glared at him, before lowering its head as if bowing to an honored opponent… and rapid fired a smoldering stream of hot clinkers at Penz, who was behind a boulder taking careful aim. The boulder took most of the punishment, but the archer caught a blast in the shoulder, spoiling his aim and sending him to the ground, out of sight.

It scuttled right, drawing a bead on Ingrid and Colette, who were caught in an open space, dead to rights.

“No mercy!” Issac gasped, lurching into a stumbling charge.

Mustafa was coming in hard from the right, holding a hatchet in each hand, while their ‘advisor’ Dannyl came from the left, swinging the strange whip of his, creating a low, droning song.

He had help coming, but too late for his teammates. Isaac lowered his stance, dug in deep and hurled himself at the thing’s disgusting jaws and mandibles, blade first. The rest was darkness and noise.

#

Isaac woke in the wagon, with Penz. He was stiff, sore and felt like he had eaten something truly noxious, both from the taste in his mouth and the feeling in his guts.

“You got poisoned, stay still or you’ll start puking again…” Adam said quietly from the wagon bench. “The thing had parasites, we gave you an herbal purgative… you’ll feel better soon.”

“How’s everyone else?” He asked hoarsely, feeling bandages cinch around his chest.

“Penz will recover, like you, he was pierced by fragments of the thing’s… projectile. The damage is minor but the toxic effects are lingering. The rest are unharmed.” Adam grumbled.

“What was that thing?” He gasped.

“Stinkroach gone monster and grown huge. It must have been feasting on its kin for weeks out here in the bush. It had Ingrid and Colette in its… it was going to blast them to pieces… thank you.” The young priest looked abashed and worried at the same time.

“How did I survive?” He whispered, slumping back on his bed of government forms and ledgers.

“Whatever else my sister’s team is, they are truly gifted armorers and weaponsmiths. That thing choked on your foolish metal backside long enough for Dannyl to… extract you… it’s best you were unconscious for that part. We saw… things.” Adam managed to look both golden and pale.

“If you ever see young Dannyl draw that whip, get away… it splatters.” He shuddered silently.

Herndon town was a lush green fold in the dry hills, they crested a low rise and descended into a wide, shallow valley of lush green grass and wide low trees.

In the distance, the houses and barns of the town could be seen surrounded by its own orchard garden.

It was the pastures and paddocks that made the town famous for horses and Belen’s warriors that rode them into battle.

They rode into town surrounded by the scent of new mown hay and clean horse leavings. A famously warm and welcoming place, the townsfolk asked for news and gossip as they passed and invited the newcomers to visit their homes with exhausting regularity.

Adam had to sit up and use his authority to clear the path…

“We have injured, please clear the way… no we can’t stop for tea… Yes, they are real Adventurers… Oh gods help me…”

In the small Adventure guild hall in town, the team sat together eating a passable meal. Hearndon took equine nutrition and diet far more seriously than the needs of humans.

The pensioner kept on as housekeeper and cook for the Adventure guild house was pleasant and welcoming, but the meal was a letdown. The bread was tough and a little chewy, the stew had a skim of grease on top and would benefit from less cooking time and more vegetables…

“Cheer up Adam, your team did well. That thing was going to be a mess, no matter how it went down.” Dannyl said with a cheeky grin. “At least the burnt charcoal turds it launched didn’t have that classic smell.”

He paused, looking thoughtful. “Toxic shitshots… that’s one for the gallery… I’ll add him in, call it artistic license…” He mused.

“I have to admit, that healing ointment, the bug repellent charms and those stink rings… We’ll never match your team.” Adam hung his head. “Tell Tawny she won this time.”

“She doesn’t even know you are competing, Adam… I don’t mean it like that… Tawny sees the job and my team as her life’s work, not this year’s way to show up her older brother. She’s one of us, part of us.” Dannyl said gently, as he set a small clay jug and a tiny clay cup down in front of the priest.

“What’s this? Liquor?” He asked, a shocked expression on his face. “I’d heard someone was brewing strong drink in town…”

“Nope, not liquor, syrup… from a maple dryad friend of mine. She asked me to give you this, said you should drink it and sleep beneath a maple tree, any maple tree, if you seek wisdom. She’s worried about you.”

The young warrior stretched and got up, slinging a cased weapon across his back. “I’m off to stroll the town a bit, see what there is to see. Planning for the future… I’ll be back by eighth.”

#

The giantess led the scantily clad girl through the house, down into a stone basement filled with beams of sunshine, spilling in through open window shutters and pools of darkness seeming to stretch off forever.

Small bright decorations appeared everywhere she looked: a bouquet of violets painted on a foundation stone, or a living vine, festooned with berries and ribbons hung from the joists, crawling across the ceiling.

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Strange tools and objects filled the space, along with familiar things, a forge, stacks of lumber and ingots, workman’s tools and small parts were everywhere.

A giant stood in the middle of the place, at a workbench under a bright light. Something drew her eye to him, an energy surrounded the handsome well muscled form… The aura was constantly distracting her from the terrifying things lurking in the dark…

She couldn’t see them, not clearly, indistinct shadows, moving and swaying to the alien music that seemed to come from everywhere at once.

Shadows cloaked in deeper shadows, yet glimpses of gleaming metal at head and hands could be seen, from moment to moment.

An invisible chorus of almost seen… people sang a strangely inflected song, exhorting the craftsman to some indefinable height of ecstatic concentration and performance.

Work it harder!

Do it faster!

More than ever, our

Work is never over!

Stripped to the waist he was drenched in sweat, his back to the two women as he concentrated at his task.

Can’t stop…

Working on it…

Glyphs and runes…

Super complex…

He chanted in time with the strange, inhuman voices that continued to sing their compelling, invigorating lyrics.

“Change the beat when ye can, boy, tis too much fer yer client tae handle.” Her hostess barked at the huge man.

She went on to heap abuse him for a short time, while settling Angie in a comfy sofa with a cup of tea.

“Should you really call him a ‘Daft Punk’, sister Shai… that seems unnecessary.” She scolded mildly. “He’s working so hard.”

“Nae sister, tis a thing ye dinnae ken…” Shai began gently, shooting a dirty look at the workman’s broad back.

“I’m not a child sister Shai, I’m sixteen. I see you are lovers… Duchess Grace has always impressed on us that we should be gentle in our speech with those we love…” Angie said, softly and earnestly.

The music changed as the young woman spoke, flushed with emotion, the music followed her, becoming more mellow and with a more distinct, throbbing beat.

The alien voices stilled their chorus and the workman picked up the vocals, crooning along. His voice was rich and pleasant, after those strange unseen singers. The lurking shadows remained, but somehow felt… safe, welcoming, comfortable. She could see them now, wearing dark robes and playing musical instruments in the shadows.

Doo doo doo da doo dado doo doo…

“These are true things sister, but tis…” She began to bob her head along as she spoke, until a loud metallic cry interrupted her, some kind of stringed instrument let out a long, musical wail.

“Fie… Nae boy, tis nae right fer the moment!” Shai scolded the man, who had begun to pop his right hip in time to the primitive, driving beat.

He sang, low and slow, caressing each word as it passed his lips. Facing away, but singing to his tall, blushing woman so obviously that it hurt.

Tonight… I want to give it all to you

In the darkness, there's so much I want to do…

He shifted the beat and the key higher with a shimmy of his hips, as a guitar appeared in his hands. He turned to face the two women, smiling wide and gleaming under the shop lights. He strummed his low slung instrument, pivoting his hips as the chords rang out.

And tonight, I want to lay it at your feet…

'Cause girl, I was made for you…

And girl, you were made for me!

As he sang and played, shaking his pelvis in very distracting ways, the robed forms stepped closer, their faces painted in stark black and white images of a cat, bat wings, a star… they swayed and danced behind the pale half naked musician.

Her host abandoned her, joining the man, dancing in the open space before his workbench, her musical hips lifted the song even higher.

I was made for lovin' you, baby,

You were made for lovin' me!

And I can't get enough of you, baby,

Can you get enough of me?

As the tempo slowed again, he began to undulate his horribly scarred abdomen at Shai, making waves roll up and down his body in suggestive ways.

“Aye, that be the stuff lad!” His woman panted eagerly, as Angie desperately wished to be anywhere else, rather than here.

Slowly the music wound down, the cloaked musicians withdrew back into the shadows.

“Sorry, sorry, I got caught up…” He gasped, when their embrace and kiss broke, finally.

He sagged onto a stool that she was certain hadn’t been there a moment ago. “I had a lot of work to do… kinda…” He drifted off dazed and slightly lost looking.

As she watched, the compelling aura, the touch of something brilliant faded from him, leaving a bland, even featured big man with a dull look about him.

Shai stepped close and swatted him gently on the cheeks a few times, at which he blinked stupidly. She left him on his stool, with a fond, gentle kiss and turned back to Angie.

“Fie… he hae wrung himself dry… there be naught fer it but tae feed him an let him rest. Let’s see what he hae wrought betimes, sister.” She rumbled with a frustrated look on her broad, honest face. She turned to the workbench and came back to the sofa holding a long, black leather covered case.

It bore a disturbing similarity to a coffin, three feet long and ten inches wide. Shai placed it carefully on the tea table… the one that was not there just seconds before. She sat down beside Angie and popped the latches…

Inside, resting in a fitted cavity of deep red velvet sat a leg. A perfect, smooth, beautiful, satin soft, wooden leg. The rich amber and honey color of the wood was a good match for her skin tone, save that it was whorled and intricately marked with lines of rich purple brown wood grain.

From the five perfect toes to the wide inscribed collar of bronze at the terminus, it was the strangest, most perfect thing she had ever seen.

Why the mad boy had made a perfect sculpture of a girl’s leg… of her leg, the one she had never seen, was beyond a mystery. Yet she couldn’t deny, it was her leg, she could feel it, almost calling to her. Angie reached out and touched it, smooth, soft and warm… She could almost fancy that she felt that touch on her missing limb.

“If I may, sister…” Shai said, reaching out to touch her leg… the sculpture, as though she were touching Angie in some intimate way. She looked distant for a moment then smiled happily.

“It’s beautiful… for a pegleg…” Angie sighed sadly. “Where is my old prosthetic? I can still wear that until we get home…”

“Nae sister, tis the very thing fer thee. Ye must wear this one!”

“I’m sorry Shai but I can’t stump around on a pegleg, no matter how pretty. There isn’t even a way to wear it, no straps or buckles at all.”

The giantess settled back on the sofa and put her arm around the smaller girl. “I feel it in thee, ye hae been kissed by lady Thirp, the weaver of secrets, aye an sweet Marduk, god of knowledge… we be sisters thrice over soon… an ye accept them.”

“I didn’t understand any of that. If this is some cruel joke, please stop.” Angie said softly.

“No jokes…” The man croaked from his stool. He lurched to his feet, leaning on a gray shafted cane with a bronze head carved into a bumblebee. He staggered over and sat down next to Shai on the sofa.

“Sorry, I’m Gary, I guess I’m the ‘mad wizard’ all the nobles are upset over.” He yawned deeply and smiled. “That leg is the best thing I’ve made yet… except Shai’s bells… those are still attached to me.”

“Are you a mad wizard?” She asked sharply.

“I’m not a wizard… more of a warlock… the nobles always call me a wizard when they want something or a witch when they get a result they weren’t expecting…” He shrugged helplessly.

“And the ‘mad’ part?” She asked a bit more mildly, while Shai just grinned and watched the show.

“Ok, they got me there, Shai says I’m ‘moontouched’ all the time, all the gods and spirits seem to agree, so I gotta admit, they’re probably right.” He broke into a wide smile, crooked and a little sad.

“Dinnae mistake the moontouched fer the mad… tis a subtle shift in his perceptions, an the strange way he do hae of looking at things which we do nae see fully.” She leaned closer and whispered softly in the small, slightly terrified girl’s ear.

“Ye hae seen things, aye an dreamed things too, beneath this roof. Spiders an shadows.”

“How do… is this some kind of deranged cult?” She demanded, her fear washing away under a tide of anger.

“Well… kinda? To be fair, there are already a bunch of cults and secret societies around… what’s a few more?” The man, Gary said happily.

“Contracts and cults… you’ll be joining a few before long, if you met Thirp…”

Scooting away from the duo, she hammered them with an angry glare. “What’s a thirp?” She asked sharply.

“Thirp is a who, not a what. She’s a goddess, She Who Spins In The Void, The Weaver Of Secrets.” He winked saucily at her. “The old god of Secrets is gone, she’s filling that gap… in a much more exciting and fun way…” He smiled at his gigantic beaming woman.

“That means we are both in the cult of Secrets… I like that.” He sighed, gently bumping her with his shoulder, sleepily.

“You too soon, little sister… as soon as you put on that leg and stop acting like you’re scared. You know in your heart that you’re safe here.”

“Madness…” She whispered, staring at the beautiful leg, her leg, lying there in its red lined coffin, calling to her.

“Perhaps…” Shai whispered quietly, just for her. “An we be simply mad, what harm kin there be? I would fain dance wi thee, sister.”

“I can’t dance…” The girl answered, low and soft, with tears welling in her eyes.

Shai took the leg in her massive hand. Lifting it from its case with a smile. She slipped to her feet in front of the tiny girl and glared at her man. “Fie, letcher, off wi thee, ye hae seen enough of this young girl’s bonny leg.” She growled good naturedly at her man, while brandishing the wooden leg at him.

He blushed, smiled and tugged at where his collar would be, if he was wearing a shirt. “But… but…” He stammered, grinning and leaning to and fro, obviously and feebly trying to sneak a peek, past the enormous, red haired privacy screen, causing the big woman to giggle and bat at him gently, with her massive hands.

“Go on ye pervert, clear off yer workbench, I’ll let thee see me tits later, an yer a good boy.” She scolded him with a smile and a shimmy of her shoulders that ran with liquid grace down her whole body, making her bells sing out.

When Angie looked up from those glimmering hips, there was an actual privacy screen, neatly blocking her sofa off from the rest of the room. It was just her and the leg wielding giantess, who approached with a smile.

“Dinnae fear little sister… ye are safe in the bosom of thy kin.’ She knelt on the floor in front of the girl and slid her shift up gently, to expose her lumpy purple-red stump. The girl’s normal, healthy thigh ended in a lumpy knot of calloused tissue, just a few inches below her pretty new panties of shining red silk.

Shai locked eyes with the nervous, frightened girl and with one smooth, gentle motion slipped the bronze collar over the scarred nightmare that was all she had ever known.

#

Once more in the coaches, the exhausted bridal party, plus a duchess, rode with sleeping children on their laps. Somehow three small urchins managed to occupy every seat and lap in the first coach simultaneously, as only tired children can.

“All that remains, to my mind… is for you to reveal the manner in which you have Contracted all these children. Receiving one or two who have already been Contracted is not uncommon… but so many?” Duchess Sheng said quietly. “What have you discovered?”

“That is a deeper mystery, one that may well be cleared up at the inn. If my brother and sister are sufficiently recovered. They have been experiencing a very difficult rank up.” Becky answered smoothly, with a smile.

“It’s only fair, they have been so difficult all this time.”

“You mean the young couple who put on that display last night? They did seem… active.” Sheng sighed. “So much energy. Now I’m reminded of poor Angie, I’m terrible for being distracted by all these shiny new things… This trip has been a revelation.”

“So you did purchase that young man’s contract… Oliver? No Orlando, yes that’s it! Did you buy him your Grace… er, Grace?” Emma asked, fumbling the honorific and the duchess’ name together awkwardly.

Sheng sighed softly at that old frustration. “Take care when naming your children, ladies…” She smiled brightly a moment later.

“Yes I did buy him, at quite a bargain… It seems he’s a talented horseman and trainer, but has a terrible gift that slays any mount he rides to battle… tragic and prohibitively expensive to use in any case. I’ll attach him to a band of knights, but among the support troops.”

“It’s excellent to have a few competent warriors among the support team, just a sprinkle…” Emma chimed in excitedly.

The duchess and lady Emma began a spirited discussion of squad and platoon level tactics that left the lady jaspreet smiling awkwardly.

“Anyone care for a brownie?” Becky asked with a wink at her bored companion. She produced a plate of the dark, sticky squares and a stack of napkins with a theatrical flourish.

Dimensional gifts were so much fun, even if only for changes of clothes and some treats for the ladies.

The ride back was pleasant, even after the scent of chocolate woke the little ones. The ladies piled through the door in an undignified, happy bustle of skirts and babes in arms, chatting on subjects ranging from sweet cakes, to gardening, to supply logistics for combat teams in the wild.

The sales floor was closed and lit by only a few lanterns burning here and there behind bright paper shades. Down the hall past the baths they heard music coming from the taproom, piano, strings and sweet chiming bells.

“Shai’s up at least…” Becky murmured as the happy gaggle swept the duchess into the bright spacious room.

Musical instruments hung all around and a large, round cheeked man in a round hat was playing the pianoforte with astounding vigor, filling the room with his music.

Shai was dancing with her violin tucked under her chin, spinning along and smiling. Gary had a tiny, dark haired, pale girl standing on his toes, working through a beginner’s foxtrot with a look of utter concentration on her pretty face.

“Aye, ye are a quick study… even wi so clumsy an instructor.” Shai laughed, spinning past so close that her hair brushed over his face; his reaction to that trick was always exciting. “I’ll be taking thee fer a twirl next, sister.”

“Angie!” Duchess Sheng exclaimed in shock, both at seeing her out of uniform, dressed in a commoner’s bodice, skirts and sandals… and that she was dancing on two complete, normal legs.

#