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Nattas
A miracle & Uher’s Light
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He serves, no other God, Maja had said. And no other people.
Storm sighed, raised the bronze chalice to his mouth and tipped it all the way, felt it burn down to his stomach. Regia's Master of Silence, breathed in through the nose next, the last thing a man having his cock worked on needs, he thought feeling tensed to his toes and looking at the whore’s head doing said work. Is ruminate on an assassin’s cryptic words, all doom 'n gloom and lose a perfectly serviceable erection.
Because of it.
The young whore looked at him, behind a curtain of poorly dyed flaxen hair, the roots on them clearly visible.
“Yeah,” Storm replied, raising his head some more, from the large brothel’s pillow. “It’s not working.”
“Does milord want to try something else?” She queried suggestively, sitting on her heels.
There were only a couple of other options at play here.
A task for far bolder men, than him.
Milord ain’t getting his cock in there, Nattas decided and waved her away.
“Just leave me,” He ordered, rather disappointed with how everything had turned out. “My man will pay you.”
“The sickly one?” The whore asked with a smile, as if Storm had been a well-satisfied customer leaving the premises and in a good enough mood for small talk.
Well, he bloody wasn’t.
“Him.”
“I will make my way out, milord,” The girl of about twenty years said professionally, catching his undertone.
“Please do.”
Ah, this went almost as poorly, as expected. Possibly a tad worse, Nattas thought and twisted on the bed, to put his pale, hairy legs down. The left one almost half the mass of his right, the muscles on it, especially below the knee, almost nonexistent.
There was a knock and Sudi came in, walking like he was about to be executed. Unenthusiastic seems too trifling a word. The man had lost most of his hair and whatever remained barely covered the bald spots on his head. Several of his molars had fallen off, his cheeks had sunk in and his color had turned from the Issir black, to an unhealthy pale-grey.
Abrakas mouldy toenails.
“You look… much worse under this light,” Storm offered, while he buttoned up his pants.
“Probably not the light’s fault, boss,” Sudi replied, sounding weakened.
“They told me you’ve made a recovery, for the most part.”
“The most part, was an exaggeration,” Sudi deadpanned, ever the smartarse.
“Well,” Nattas said, rubbing his face. That's enough talking about him. “This brothel sucks.”
“How about the wench? Was she any good?” Sudi asked, not sounding particularly interested.
Nattas smacked his lips. “I’d say, analogous to the venue.”
But for the sucking part.
“Well then, the High King’s man arrived,” Sudi said tiredly changing the subject, after they had both taken a moment to reminisce on the much finer whores they’ve sampled in the past. Nattas mostly, as Sudi was parsimonious -to put it mildly- with his coin.
“In person?” Storm asked with a frown.
“Aye. He was expected.”
Great, Nattas thought, reaching for his cane. The day can only get worse from here.
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Secundus led the way through Alden’s streets, Nattas with Sudi following right behind him and two guards taking up the rear. The sun was up, shinning bright and unwilling to let go, the summer making its presence known.
It was going to be a hot day.
Lord Nattas wiped his face with a linen handkerchief, their small group moving much too fast for the time. He opened his mouth to yell at Secundus to slow down, or even make a brief stop, when the hired guard paused on his own, to let a mounted Knight followed by at least six armed men pass them by. Nattas stopped himself, breathing heavy and watched this group of Issirs curious.
The Knight carried a bronze meter-long stick on his saddle and had chainmail under his yellow robes, along with solid plate on his front and back. The six armed men wearing similar robes over their chainmail, had a collared mid-aged woman walk amongst them, the split lip on her face still bleeding. A large host of Alden’s citizenry was following this foreign group from a safe distance.
The group being the order of the Golden Spears.
“Good Sir,” Nattas said, shoving Sudi in front of the horse to force the knight to stop. “May I inquire about your prisoner?”
The rider pulled lightly at the reins and stared at him unfriendly. He had light-brown eyes, skin a rich ebony, a straight nose and a shaven face. His helm, worn with open cover, a plain conned one, but finely built.
“Who might you be?” He asked.
“Lord Nattas, on my way to speak with King Alistair,” Storm replied, putting his weight on his cane and offering him a mocking smirk. “It’s considered polite—”
“I’m Sir Adam Leus, Inquisitor of the Golden Spears. Here on the Order’s official business,” Sir Leus interrupted him rather rudely.
Nattas grimaced, glanced at the woman, who was now staring him with haunted eyes and asked without hesitation.
“What business is that?”
“We have permission from the High King,” Nattas stopped him raising a hand.
“You are here as a knight then, or as a priest?”
“Ours is a religious order.”
“All of them are, but that is not, what I asked Sir Leus.”
The knight looked at his men and then the woman wearing the iron collar, a thick chain secured on it and tied on his saddle, before finally returning his eyes on Lord Nattas.
“We are here to perform a cleansing,” Sir Adam Leus said. “Put the fear of Uher in the infidels’ hearts.”
That’s what Storm was afraid of.
“What about the other Gods?” He probed and Sir Leus frowned taken aback.
“My Lord?”
“Tyeus, or Naossis. Oras. Hey, how about Luthos, right?” Some of the crowd that had gathered behind the warrior-priests murmured, catching the gist of his words.
Sir Leus sat back on his saddle with a frown.
“Praise be the Five,” He finally rustled.
“Praise be the Five,” Storm repeated wryly and pointed at the hapless woman. “What did she do?”
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
“This wench is a vile witch,” Sir Leus spat and eyed the gathered crowd angrily. “Uher will decide her fate.”
Storm stared at the woman. She wore a decent light dress, a dark blue bodice over it and her short-heeled boots were dusty, but appeared new. Despite the wrinkles next to her soft green eyes, she was pleasant to the eye.
And rather plain for a witch.
The crowd had reacted to the Inquisitor’s words and some of them murmured loudly, a man’s voice heard clearly above the others.
“Bullshit! That’s Arietta!”
“She’s a healer!” Another added.
“Sells balms in the market for Uher’s sake!” A third one cried.
Storm smacked his lips and eyed the frowning Knight.
“I’ll give you vile,” He said. “But a witch? How can you know?”
“Bah, Uher’s Light will make everything clear shortly,” Sir Leus spat loud enough for everyone to hear. “Are you not a believer Lord Nattas?”
No.
“Of course,” Storm lied with ease. “Still, when you say Uher’s Light, I find myself intrigued.”
“If she’s innocent, no harm will come to her,” Sir Leus replied, not likening his insistence.
“And she will be released,” Lord Nattas added.
“If she’s innocent,” Sir Leus countered.
“Can I watch this… miracle?” Storm asked him with a small smile.
“We’re headed to Old Maiden’s Bridge,” Sir Leus said, after a moment’s thought. “You’re welcomed to attend and quench your thirst for knowledge.”
“Uher’s Light will come down on the bridge?” Storm probed, not buying whatever the priest was selling.
The knight sat back on his saddle and smiled in turn.
“Right next to it, Lord Nattas.”
What a bunch of nonsense, Nattas thought.
“Boss, you have an appointment at the palace,” Sudi interjected.
“I’d like to witness this,” Storm replied and looked at the waiting knight and Inquisitor of the Order. “I will come with you.”
“Very well,” Sir Adam Leus announced not appearing stressed, either because he was a fanatic idiot, or he believed Storm would fall for whatever bullshit trick he’d arranged.
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Maiden’s River west bank and the bridge, weren’t as crowded as they typically were every morning, but people started gathering around the decent crowd that had followed the armed priests of Uher, out of morbid curiosity. There were some calls for and against Arietta, but for the most part people just murmured to each other, standing idly by.
Storm Nattas, drenched in sweat to his underwear and too tired for small talk watched as Sir Leus climbed down his horse and waited for his men to bring the hapless woman near the shallow edge of the river. A short man was waiting for them there, flanked by several members of the Order, also armed to the teeth.
That’s a lot of Issirs prancing about, Storm thought and used a wet hankie to wipe his face again.
“What are we doing here, chief?” Sudi complained, looking even worse than Storm.
“We’re looking to expose the charlatans.”
“To what purpose?”
Storm sighed.
Abrakas, any ideas would be really useful right now.
“This woman,” Sir Leus said, addressing the small crowd that was watching them. Even close by and from the direction of the bridge, as many people had stopped crossing, to witness the impressive knight speak from their vantage position. “Is charged with witchery and delving into the black arts! She denies it, but the evidence is right there for all to see!”
“What evidence?” Someone yelled from the bridge, about twenty meters to their right. Sir Leus squinted his eyes that way to see who it was.
“We see nothin’!” Another taunted, hiding in the crowd behind them, taking advantage of the knight looking away.
Sir Adam Leus grimaced and pressed his mouth angry.
“Since we’re righteous and not godless cowardly scum,” The knight barked, eyeing the crowd warningly. “We will stand back and allow Uher -the Godfather- decide, if she’s telling the truth!”
The crowd seemed stunned enough at that, to stop heckling them and Sir Leus made a gesture to the bespectacled clerk-looking man to approach them. Skinny and almost emancipated, with thinning white hair, over a long-nosed bland face. He was dressed in the Order’s garbs and had loose sandals on, his dirty toes sticking out of them.
“Master Luikens,” Adam said in a no-nonsense kind of way. “Are we ready?”
For what? Storm thought and walked carefully near the two of them, his cane digging in the soft muddy ground, so near to the water.
“It’s ready, Inquisitor,” Luikens replied, sounding terrified of all fucking things! “We need to secure the subject onto the wooden post first, if your men assist us,” He stared at the approaching -mostly hobbling- Storm apologetically. “It will only be a minute.”
What are these boneheads up to? Storm wondered, staring at the sly smaller man getting something out of a satchel he had over his shoulder and then tying a leather cord on it with shaking hands.
“Where’s Uher’s Light?” Lord Nattas asked and Luikens flinched, white as snow, and almost dropped whatever it was, he was holding in his hands.
“Patience, Lord Nattas,” Sir Leus advised him and Storm frowned, a nervous tick starting on his left eye.
“Chief,” Sudi said warningly, standing a couple of meters behind, with Secundus Sorex and the rest of his escort.
The warrior-priests had secured Arietta on the post, about ten feet inside the river, but still at its shallowest part. The soft muddy sand underneath, making it easy to insert the two meter tall peg relatively deep, but not very stable. She kept looking about scared, not knowing what to expect and most of the crowd had gone quiet now, the whole scene bizarre.
Luikens finished creating a loop around the neck of the small shrill vial, he’d in his hands and reaching inside his satchel again, got another, but thinner cord out, about a foot in length and kept it in his left, still shaking hand.
What in Abrakas arsehairs is this?
“Hey!” Storm yelled and made another step to get into the sly-looking man’s face. There was terror lurking behind his fat lenses, his dark eyes huge, almost monstrous, Nattas noticed. What is going on here? “What’s in the vial?” He probed.
“Consecrated water,” Sir Leus answered, without batting an eyelash. “An offering to Uher.”
Storm licked his lips and examined the vial. He could see liquid moving in there, colorless and gluey. It looked nothing like water.
Though, the whole consecrated thing had threw him off balance, being as he was, a proper infidel.
“Right,” Lord Nattas said and took a step back. Luikens glanced towards a livid and glaring Inquisitor and then walked towards the tied up on the post Arietta, the water reaching her knees and her dress slowly soaking. He hanged the vial over her head carefully, so it rested like a pendant on her chest and inserted the thin hemp-like cord through the small opening, after uncorking it.
“Remain calm,” He mumbled to the almost freaked out Arietta and attempted to accompany his words with a reassuring smile that failed completely, as it seemed to break her psyche. Arietta started screaming and thrashing on the post, but the priests had done an excellent job to tie her hands and feet on it. Well, the post started moving slightly left and right, but it was heavy enough for the woman to fully lift it and free herself. Not that she had anywhere to go. One of course, had to factor in here the heavy post she’d have to carry on her back during the escape.
A right convoluted mess.
Abrakas, you better do something spectacular,
Once in your bloody life!
An armed man holding a lit torch approached the nervously looking about him Luikens and he used it to set the end of the cord -still outside the vial- on fire and then dashed away from it comically, splashing in the water and falling once, getting mud on his robes.
The woman kept screaming and thrashing behind him, the majority of the crowd watching mesmerized and weirded out, but for the men of the Order of the Golden Spears that kept a professional air about the whole affair.
Storm had enough of this crap.
“Where’s Uher?” He asked Sir Adam and the knight raised a gloved hand and pointed at the screaming and thrashing poor healer.
“Watch for the Light, Lord Nattas,” The warrior-priest said gravely and while he sold it brilliantly, all a frowning Storm could see was a terrified woman shrieking her lungs out, blood on her chin from her split lip and the cord slowly burning away, until it reached the mouth of the vial and went out, with a whimper.
Arietta stopped screaming and took a deep rugged breath, when nothing of note happened. Some of the crowd started laughing at the apparent huge fail.
Wow, haha!
Gratitude for the fuckin’ help!
“Cut the poor woman down!” Storm barked to the glaring priests and seeing they weren’t moving, he turned to his own guards frustrated, when he noticed Luikens shaking like a leaf, his eyes closed and drenched in sweat. His fear was so palpable, Nattas felt a shiver run down his spine and twisted toward the now quietly crying Arietta, the ruckus of the taunting crowd slowly increasing, everything smelling of imminent violence.
A brilliant light erupted from Arietta’s chest, almost blinding him on the spot and the next moment a great explosion followed, sending mud, rocks, and water everywhere in a twenty meters radius. It was trailed by a grotesque deluge of diluted blood, pulverized gooey flesh, splintered bones, body fluids, mushy brain fragments and an eerie quietness that was broken violently by the desperate cries of people trying to get away, or just collapsing in a state of delirium.
Storm coughed, his face covered in reeking muck and tried to get up, as the shockwave had hurled him three meters back, landing him amongst his less affected guards. Secundus helped him to his feet, ears ringing and eyes hurting and blurring, with red spots dancing everywhere Storm dared to look. Because he searched about for the wretched witch –apparently- but couldn’t find her anywhere. The post was gone and Arietta, judging by what they were all covered with, had just turned into sludge.
Nattas wiped his face with a dirty sleeve, his velvet doublet ruined beyond comprehension and spat whatever he had lodged in his teeth. He was so shocked with how the event had ended, it seemed so bizarre and otherworldly to a cynic like Lord Nattas that it took him a long minute to realize, throngs of people had started coming from the city to investigate.
“Chief, we need to move. It isn’t safe,” Sudi said and Storm nodded impassively with his head and followed after him. It was at the city gates that Lord Nattas realized he’d lost his cane and had made the long trip back without it.
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