Sailing Ether Tides

Ch: 55 Come, Doused In Mud

Lindsey was in the stable, brushing flash and getting to know the other equines, when Amy and Maya appeared, smiling wickedly at her from the wide doorway.

“Come on, sister, it’s time to dress for the party…” Maya chuckled gleefully. “We’ve selected your outfit, now we just need to stuff you into it!”

In the minutes that followed, Lindsey found herself pushed into a stall with the assistance of her traitorous familiar and unceremoniously stripped completely bare by her two smiling frenemies.

Amy produced a wicker hamper from… somewhere and began pulling the most daring, shocking, utterly inappropriate, filmy, lacy underthings from her perverted picnic basket.

The pale green panties barely covered anything, while the matching ‘top’ was more like a lace frosted, decorative shelf to prop her modest boobs on… Though once secured in the revealing, absolutely naughty thing, they did sit up and behave. Her firm, plumply jiggly darlings peeked over the soft, sheer battlements; rather than simply being lost in her usual loose garments.

“I can’t show him these!” She gasped in shock. “Well, I suppose he has already seen me…” She gulped and blushed even brighter, surprising her two evil ‘friends’ with an even deeper shade of red.

“Yes, dearie, and you’ve seen him too, in the bath… that makes you even-steven. That is unacceptable! Now we tip the scales in our… er, your favor!” Becky cackled, as she spun the poor girl around to face a full length and quite ornate mirror… in a horse’s stall.

“These are not concealed weapons, to be hidden until your desperate, last resort…” Becky sighed, cupping the lanky girl’s lace clad breasts fondly and hefting them like a goodwife at the produce market might judge a melon; in a gesture far too intimate for the tall lass’ comfort.

“Best you show a hint of what he might face in a test of arms… and a bit of decorative enhancement is fine indeed.” Maya agreed, while appraising Lindsey’s ass in a manner that any stableman would recognize… she smiled with satisfaction at her findings. “Now to wrap the gift and put a bow on it… er…”

Amy’s hand flashed out, viciously twisting Maya’s ear with a speed and accuracy that left poor Lindsey wondering if she’d missed something… While admiring her own sleek, lithe body in the mirror.

The two giggling girls wrapped her in flowing, layered skirts of spring green and pale ivory and a scanty, white muslin top that bared her shoulders and belly, and would have displayed her nearly bare bosom, but for a snug, colorfully embroidered half vest that made her breasts collide and bounce in ways that were new to the tall, lanky girl.

Her assailants stood back and allowed her to escape the stall, once her hair had been done up in a loose braid, decorated with tiny rosebuds from the garden. A few touches of cosmetics had finished the work.

“Sorry, we had to dress you out here… Annie has the only full length mirror in the house. That’s a secret.” Amy whispered, while Lindsey stared at the beautiful stranger standing in the shining surface, dressed in understated finery. No hint could be seen, of the scandalous undies hidden behind the slim, sexy facade of a pretty girl dressed for a party.

“Oh, yeah…” Maya whispered happily. “That’s the stuff.”

#

Fourth bell brought a huge horde of friends, family, the curious and the nosey crashing down on the wide meadows and gardens around the inn. The dire and ominous aura of the place had blown away like a bad smell, and the smell of cooking coming from the place was enough to draw attention.

Strange foreign spices mingled excitingly with the familiar scents of home and hearth, drifting over the small town… and a rack of kegs suggested that there would be beer.

Three ginger giants managed the beer kegs, Thom, Marcus and Tallum were a matched set of enormous smiths with huge, shovel hands and wide, cheerful smiles. The subtle threat of their short, leather wrapped cudgels, worn on sashes of bright red, suggested that they would continue to be jovial and open handed with the drinks… so long as everyone remained polite.

A band of fringe tribal Adventurers, dressed in the wildly colorful costume of their people managed the buffet table, decked out in vests embellished with beads of bone, shell and stranger things, with bright feathers and bands of head trauma blue paint on their faces, they presented a fiercely festive aspect to the locals.

The Sparrowhawks were long term friends and colleagues of the Ward and the count, fulfilling Adventure contracts and executing monster interdictions all over the county as the lord’s primary adventuring warband and wilderness team.

Today, they kept the buffet filled with the same joyous and unfettered attitude as when they faced monsters; flying here and there accompanied only by the soft clatter of beads and the swish of bare feet on the grass.

There was music of course, Gary sat on a high stool, a guitar in hand, playing something windswept and filled with the joy of motion and movement. His fingers danced over the strings invoking a ringing, chiming storm of sound.

His wide eyed, glassy gaze said he was absolutely wasted and completely cranked on sugarwasp venom and would probably play all night in an in-distractible, focused, fogged state of musical bliss.

With her sting in his veins, all of his gifts and all magical abilities were completely inaccessible, rendering him entirely mundane. Even the wild magical tempest swirling around him was gone, excluded from his perceptions entirely.

Music flooded his fingers and battered soul, as he cut loose and did what needed to be done to make her happy…

The price was steep; under Kree’s sting, he felt an unshakeable eagerness to please the wasp princess, to do her bidding and serve her hive to the best of his abilities. His wife, kids, family and friends were all super important… just a little bit less important than the hive princess and her smallest desire…

She kept him playing for hours, sweetly smiling and lifting music into the clear summer sky with a smile on his face that was too wide to be entirely real… and too deeply happy to be anything but entirely genuine at its core.

Sweet Mariah was everywhere, flying around on her shimmering insect wings, trailing a plume of smoke, sparks and a blazing, ember bright aura of purest joy; she flitted from table to table, meeting everyone.

Down by the stables, Annie and the other horsies were giving rides to the kiddos, while the grownups ate and the young people danced in a swirling mob, caught up in the music.

Duke Mubarak’s kids were in the crowd somewhere, mingling happily and enjoying themselves mightily, from the glimpses he caught of his son and daughter whirling from one hand to another in the melee of dancing young people, or enjoying a simple pony ride.

He sat back with a glass of ‘Ward Cellars Pruno Noir’ and savored the almost sweet, almost tart, jammy, plummy wine with sublime pleasure. Served cool, rather than cold; it refreshed without sacrificing flavor and subtlety. Jaspreet sipped a glass of iced berry tisane sweetened with sunsting bee honey.

Those fae insect hives were dangerous to harvest for most men, yet in this house, the supply of that precious sweet seemed endless.

“Gods I hate the Wards…” Abed Mubarak, duke of a prosperous and ancient realm sighed through a wide smile… and a small twinge of envy.

#

The birthday girl and her two companions found Lindsey at last, hiding among the little kids, looking a little lost and lonely in the crowd. Amy and her brothers were playing in front of their proud, smiling, almost delirious looking father. So she stayed near the stable, helping entertain and supervise the little ones and giving the smallest kids gentle, ambling rides on Flash.

Three fluttering insects appeared from the crowd, darting into the horses, ponies and kids, who were playing on a lawn that had been liberally coated with bedding straw. A few startled cries of alarm quickly stilled, when the huge, terrifying, black and gray moth landed on Annie’s neck.

She led her two companions into the childrens’ ‘Rootin’ Tootin’ Funtime Corral’ and alighted right on Annie in fond and feathery soft hug.

The nocturnal creature wore a silk blindfold that covered her eyes, which was slightly disconcerting… Thankfully, her garment also obscured the terrible, empty, staring, eldritch eye sockets of the gleaming white skull on her back. The deathless gaze of her icon could pull the souls of the dead into the next realm…

And tugged on the essence of the living in some uncomfortable ways, when mortal eyes found the blank, deathly gaze of her skull marking.

The fiery and energetic Wildfire dryad buzzed and fluttered around on wings that were sometimes dusty, iridescent butterfly wings, while at other times became the fast moving, wind cutting blades of a moondrinker dragonfly. Her beauty, cheeriness, harmless, pretty sparks and sweet scented smoke won over the kids quickly. She played skyrocket a few times, bursting in low altitude, sparkling showers of magical flame, delighting the kids with her spellbinding act.

Princess Kree found herself less popular with the kids, ‘dressed’ in her natural, insectile armor and with her blackened bronze, rapier stinger slung at her hip. She contented herself with clinging to Annie’s mane and watching the proceedings with regal and glorious pleasure at her underlings’ antics…

She flitted down to perch on Lindsey’s shoulder in a quiet moment, as afternoon started getting cozy with evening’s shadows. “I see you, child of Eponna…” She whispered, impossibly speaking to a human who was not her bonded companion.

“You and I both seem to be set apart in this place… As strangers lost on the periphery and unnoticed… But is that really true?” The tiny armored girl shook her dragonfly wings and sighed.

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“This place will welcome you without stint or reservation, my sweet human sister.” She planted a kiss on Lindsey’s ear that felt like the brush of a warm sunbeam on a cool day. “You need only be bold enough to reach out and pluck what is offered, in this garden of delights.” She fell silent for a few long moments, letting the girl contemplate that.

“Are you saying I should…” She began, eventually, her face so bright and scarlet in the fading sun that she seemed to glow.

“I say this…” The wasp girl whispered into her ear. “These men are as clueless and inept in matters of the heart, as they are gifted with crafts and workings of art.” She buzzed around the girl’s head twice to make her point.

“Even when they see what they desire, they lack the confidence to seek their own wants. A girl could wait forever, should she also lack confidence.” The tiny girl flying on insect wings buzzed over and kissed Lindsey right on the tip of her nose.

“I have a sad duty to perform now… A shameful and necessary evil; and a terrible reversal of the proper familiar bond…” She sighed sadly.

“My poor servant cannot survive without my sting, even worse, he cannot truly thrive with my venom in his veins…” She eyed Barry’s dad, perched on a stool and holding yet another weird musical instrument and driving the band on mercilessly, his glazed eyes and giddy smile still feverish and wild.

“I must needs go sting him again.” She released a deeply sad sigh into the cool evening “He really needs tonight; whatever the price may be tomorrow.”

Kree took wing from Lindsey’s hair and vanished into the garden party. A few seconds later, the music changed; becoming a swaying, familiar folk tune that reminded her of childhood days long gone, as the first chime of seventh bell sang out. She leaned against Annie, her new friend and confidante and sobbed a little, caught up in emotions, music and thoughts of the past.

A large, warm hand landed on her shoulder, one fingertip barely brushing the bare skin of her neck and sending little electric tingles down her spine from that tiny point of contact.

“Are you crying?” Barry’s voice was soft and warm, if a little unsteady, as he spoke into her ear. A soft flannel cloth appeared, pressed into her hand with gentle insistence.

“Can I do anything? Did someone do something?” He asked gently, while pressing his warm body closer to her for some reason.

“Stop it Flash, quit pushing me, you big dummy.” He mumbled to her splendid little horsie.

‘I have him, boss… He’s going nowhere.’ Flash chuckled and whickered behind the huge boy’s back.

‘Good work, Flash… keep nudging him…’ She whispered into his giggly mind.

“Bite him on the butt if he tries to escape…”

She blushed bright red, when she realized she’d said that part aloud.

“You know I speak horse, right?” He asked gently. “I can hear Flash and all the others, when they speak.”

His huge, warm hand took hers as the other landed gently on her hip, pulling her gently into a slow, swaying dance, among the sleepy ponies and horses.

“You… You dance, too?” She asked weakly, as he slowly took control and led her around the little paddock, creating a quiet, private dance floor for two as the sun sank lower.

“Whenever I get the chance… Do you mind? I’m usually in the band, but Kree said you asked for me.” His breath wrapped around her throat like a warm scarf, as his hands banished the evening’s chill.

Eighth bell sang out, calling the end of the day and the beginning of the night; the music still carried the dancers in the corral on its feathery soft wings.

The strange, wailing guitar Barry’s dad had been playing all night fell silent at last, drawing a smile of excitement and a softly whispered: “Watch the sky over the lake.” From the warm boy in her arms.

He turned her about and slowed, so they could both gaze at the moons rising over the lake. He stood behind her, his body pressed close to hers and his strong arms wrapped around, just a little hesitantly.

Those two huge, calloused, workman’s hands settled on her hips, then slowly eased around, finally resting on her bare bellybutton, sending sparks shooting through her tummy. They stood together like that, his chin resting lightly on her slim, bare shoulder; watching the sky, cheek to cheek for a few timeless seconds of anticipation.

Lindsey spotted the tall form of Barry’s dad, capering down by the shore with a lit torch in his hand, gleefully doing… something odd and inexplicable, as usual.

A quiet, rushing crackle by the lake shore became a whistling, screaming projectile of glittering pink sparks, as a streak of light shot up, toward the moons and erupted in a volcanic shower of rainbow sparks.

Lindsey started in his arms, when the thunderous crack of sound split the sky and sighed with joy, as sparks rained down on the lake surface.

Again and again, things exploded over the lake, almost all of them were not Mariah… though she was unable to resist competing with the alchemical fireworks, soundly defeating the master of the house’s arts, with her magical and pyrotechnic displays.

When she erupted into a thousand flaming, fluttering butterflies and an equal number of shadowy, dark moths Gary surrendered with a mad giggle of joy and retreated to the stage, where his beloved guitar waited.

With the light show over, the crowd dispersed and the music became a soft lullaby urging the party people to seek their beds and rest… The music ended, the glowing lanterns dimmed and most of the party supplies and furniture vanished under the moonlight, filtered through the rising, cool mist.

Two people swayed on and on, failing utterly to notice when the music ended and the lights went out.

Kree had long since passed the duty to Sasha, who lurked over the corral entrance; guarding the space until Xyll, the late late shift arrived to take over, preventing anyone from disturbing the pair with her aura of uncanny dread and fear.

Sasha fluttered home to her sleeping master’s shadow with a warm, soft sigh of accomplishment.

Her smugly satisfied presence made sir Kermal snuggle even closer to Becky in the night, under a rose arbor, bathed in moonlight, drawing an appreciative coo from his cuddly armful.

#

At dawn, the Ragamuffins and a small squad of supervising veterans lined up at the garden gate. Count Liam, Dannyl, Becky, Sir Kermal, Tallum and Ivy were kitted out for riding, with light packs on their backs.

“Remember, we’re scouting and surveying the route… there will be no approach or entry into the phenomenon, under any circumstances.” The count called from atop his familiar. The rest of the party were mounted on Gary’s mad machines, smiling with enthusiasm undimmed by the early start.

Gary and Shai watched from the balcony, as the Ragamuffin’s cottages slowly faded and drifted away, leaving fertile soil behind. “Off to scout a dungeon with the count…” He sighed softly. “They’re growing up so fast.”

“Aye, perhaps, perhaps not…” Shai murmured from under his arm, where she was holding him up and helping him wave to the kids.

“Thanks, love. They’d have worried if they thought I was having an attack.” He mumbled, sinking back into their bed with a gasp. “I’m just too tired to live, today.” He mumbled as sleep slowly overtook him. “Totally worth it.”

Shai sighed softly and sank onto the pillowy bed beside him, sitting up so she could manage her broken musician.

She fumbled around in the bedding and fished out his poor left hand, the fingertips all ragged and torn by sharp metal strings pressed into flesh gone too soft by far.

She sucked her teeth in pity, as she kneaded a ball of violet wax into a slippery ointment and began coating his battered, bleeding skin.

#

Larry, Perry and Harry spent a quiet, contemplative morning, cleaning papa’s collection… It was a little gross.

He’d drooled and bled on the banjo head, it would need replacing and fresh strings, they were pretty bloody too. Getting clotted blood out of the gears of the tuning machines was a job too. Larry took it on with workmanlike pride, even if it was disgusting.

Harry was doing a similar job on the Gibbon, Stratoblaster and Teleblaster, wiping flecks of torn skin, droplets of blood and other ‘moisture’ away and re-stringing the messy guitars. Their enclosed tuning machines kept the crud out, blessedly.

Poor Perry was cleaning the flutes… Kree’s venom stilled their dad’s crippling magical wounds and allowed him to play to his heart’s content, but at an awful cost to his body and terrible results on his poor instruments.

The flutes were drenched and in some cases absolutely clogged with thick drool, the inevitable result of the venom that quelled his pain.

That lucky jerk Barry was missing all the ‘fun’; since he was still passed out in the hayloft beside Lindsey, with Shiro snuggled right between, to keep things ‘kosher’... whatever that meant.

#

Giddy and exuberant, the team pedaled up the river road, hedging for the Southeast Climb, the road they’d descended a few days before. Several miles of gently rolling bottomland and slowly rising foothills waited for them, before that punishing ascent…

“Whoo hoo!” Amy wailed in that perfect mixture of terror, excitement and joy that only a high speed trail ride can provoke. She nearly washed out on a bend above a creek, where the deer watered on summer evenings.

Her knobby, magically hardened, tree sap tires chewed furrows in the soft loam, as she sped down a game trail; her armor turning aside the branches and brambles that lashed at her speedy blue form.

Wilf hammered right after her, his presence on her rear wheel urging her to go faster and take bigger jumps… always bigger jumps with that boy. She careened through a clump of bracken ferns and launched back onto the road, at least a mile ahead of the pack.

Wilf skidded to a stop beside her, spattered with mud, grinning and decorated with forest finery. Most of the plant species in the woods were represented among the leaves caught in his armor and bike gear.

“God’s you’re filthy…” The girl who insisted on riding in front said…

“Yeah… I am.” He sighed happily, as he sprawled out beside the road, to wait for the slowpokes.

#

Amy was leaned up against Wilf, half dozing when the rest caught up to the muddy ‘scouts’.

“Uh, huh?” Dannyl snorted at the duo, as they pretended to scramble up and salute the company.

“All clear, sir.” Amy barked, strident and correct in every way, except for the silly pirate princess hat she was wearing, against regulations. Meanwhile, Wilf saluted the wrong direction, addressing the deep, dark woods, with his helmet on backwards.

“Very good, carry on, Adventurers.” Count Liam replied evenly, choosing to take the high road with these two clowns.

“Focus up when it counts, kids, or I’ll let Audrey eat your bikes.” He whispered as they mounted up, giggling together like fools.

“You can count on them, brother.” Dannyl murmured happily, as his kids got in line for the ascent.

“They’ve had to learn how to be children again, after the last few years…”

The long, tough, stretchy tow lines came out, as the kids got ready for the climb and prepared to tow the mundane bikes up behind them.

“Followers, relax and stay off the brakes, let the line stretch and contract as needed, just keep your cadence and try to keep up.”

Amy instructed briskly, as she strolled up and down the line, checking gear and bikes with a professional’s confident expertise. “Wilf, check his headset, looks loose.” She nodded at Kermal’s bike and set her big, younger brother on him with a wrench.

“Rio, your derailleur needs adjustment, looks like you’re skipping second, gonna need that one.” In a flash Rio was hunkered down, cranking a thumbwheel a few notches tighter.

In a loose peloton, they slowly began the climb, surging up on the gentle inclines and grinding up the steeper sections; mercilessly fighting gravity and physics with mortal legs and arcane magics.

By evening, the valley lay far below, slowly vanishing in purple shadows… with a sparkling flash, Mariah erupted over the lake, setting the shore birds into panicked flight once more.

When the soft crack of her explosion reached the team on the mountain, it was a faint, whispery thing, but landed like a soft kiss on the Ward kid’s ears.

Canvas and rope, cut saplings and warm bedding became a secure, snug camp on a familiar expanse of flat ground, overlooking the valley… and home lost in the distance, by the lake shore.

“We’ll have baths and actual beds tomorrow… and whenever the trail conditions allow.” Dannyl spoke softly to the other riders in the group.

“The Muffins can’t haul us and our gear up the mountain and build an inn for us to stay in… they aren’t crazy.”

That fondly mean dig at their poor dad brought giggles to the entire group… and a few sighs of longing for his beds and baths.

#

Shiro nudged Becky awake, deep in the night, before he went on to pester Kermal, butting him with his furry white forehead until the knight woke.

“Shh…” She whispered softly. “Amy sent him, something’s lurking around the camp.”

Kermal nodded silently and closed his eyes. In a silent rush of dusty wings, Sasha manifested and flitted out of their tent, into the mist shrouded night.

Kermal followed, tying a sash of black silk over his eyes and drawing his shining bronze sword from its trousers. He slipped into the night, clad in pajamas, which slowly became obscured, under his close fitted traveling armor of black, monster leather.

His armor and gear flowed over him as he passed through the shadows under the trees, silently encasing him in spellbound hides and blackened bronze. Marrying Becky and joining the family was the best decision of his life…

“Gods, I love the Wards…” He whispered, as Wilf and Rio fell in beside him, with the black moth fluttering through the sparse woods in the lead, nearly lost in the shredded mist and moonlight.

Behind him, he heard his wife, waking the camp ‘quietly’ to cover their stealthy maneuverings among the lonely pines.

With her wings silent in the fog and her grisly white skull marking showing the way, Sasha led them up and around on a game trail and out onto a wide granite slab, a few hundred yards above their camp. Under the overhanging edge, a pool of deeper darkness lingered, seeming entirely mundane…

Below, the campfire flared up and people started moving in the open, as if preparing for an attack. On cue, Rio plucked a ball of bright red clay out of his gear belt and pulled a long waxed cord, ripping it out of the apple sized ball of earth. Silently he tossed it under the ledge, where it vanished with a stony clatter. A moment later, bright red light and choking smoke erupted from the hole, followed by fifteen or twenty small figures in brimless, conical caps that shone wetly black in the moonlight.

The tiny men and women staggered out, screaming, clawing at their eyes and coughing… those who weren’t already on the ground, vomiting. The clank and clatter of their iron, spiked shoes on stone was enough to identify their kith and tribe...

“Redcaps…” Wilf hissed, with fury in his usually mellow voice that curdled sir Kermal’s blood.

#

#

End book 1: MissAdventures with Admiral Amy…

Book 2: Dirt Diver’s Dance, begins on the next chapter!