SCARLETS DOMAIN

I performed an inventory of the supplies our attackers
had with them, taking a cloak to cover my breasts, a
sword belt, and a good stout pair of boots. Their
breastplates were built for men, however, and so I
ignored the rest of their apparel. Taking what food,
they had, I also took six of their horses. Thus we
were equipped to travel east as quickly as we could.

Karelia's condition troubled me. I disapprove of
witchcraft. Ultimately no good comes of it, and
although I was glad to see Karelia well again, I could
not help feeling that a price had been paid of which
at least I was not aware.

"Tell me more of the magic cloth and of Streeth," I
said to Gudrun as we rode.

She shrugged. "It cure Karelia. What more you want?"

I laid my hand on her arm. "What is the price? There
is always a terrible price for these things! Tell me,
Gudrun!"

Gudrun said nothing.

Without thinking, I leapt from my horse, knocking her
to the ground. I lay on top of her, feeling her
squirming beneath me, and pressed my knife to her
throat.

"Tell me what I want to know, or die!" I snarled.

Now, there was fear in her eyes.

"Such magic could underpin an invincible army, yet no
such army exists, so the price of it's use must be
high! I say again, for the final time, what is it!?"

"Only. only the witch Streeth can produce such cloth,
I know not how, but..." she closed her eyes, and tears
squeezed from between the lids. "...one who uses
it..."

"What?" I pressed the knife into her throat.

She whispered the final words hoarsely. "...loses
their soul to the demon Streeth!"

I would have slit her throat there and then, in my
rage, and I don't know why I didn't. Instead I got to
my feet, and then, staring down at her body, as it
shook with her sobs, I kicked her hard where I knew it
would hurt her most. She screamed and curled up
defensively, clutching her groin.

I glanced at Karelia, who was staring dully at us. I
would have expected her to come to Gudrun's defence,
but instead, she seemed to be taking some vicarious
pleasure at her friends suffering.

"I should take the cloth from her breast, and apply it
to your cunt!" I yelled.

Karelia uttered a low growl at these words, and stared
at me, holding her wounded breast. I could see from
the strange light in her eyes, that this would be
easier said than done. I slumped, impotently, as
Gudrun struggled to her feet. She cast me a guilty
glance as she climbed onto her horse, wincing as she
sat astride it, delicately adjusting her position.

She moved forward to join Karelia, and they both
turned away from me, leaving me to follow.

I watched them, wondering idly if ever anyone had
applied such a cloth to any of my wounds in the past,
for I knew that my own soul was tired and jaded.
Karelia and I, I considered, would make a fine pair.

As they rode together, I felt jealousy take possession
of me. Whatever I felt about Karelia, it was clear
that she and Gudrun went back a long way, and that
there was a bond between them that I could not easily
sunder.

What if I had killed Gudrun? What if my sword had
opened her throat, leaving her lifeblood to mingle
with the dirt? Then it would have been just me and
Karelia.

Karelia would, of course, have taken a terrible
vengeance on me. I had already seen her skill with the
sword, and she had only been wounded when facing
overwhelming odds.

I would not have stood a chance. I could picture her
snarling face bearing down on me, feel the sharp pain
of her sword in my belly. She would not have let me
die easily, twisting the blade, and opening my flesh,
leaving me to watch helplessly as my guts flopped
between my fingers to spread among the rotting leaves
and animal droppings.

As these thoughts went through my mind, I could feel
the excitement rising. Perhaps it would be a fitting
death for me after all. Perhaps, also, it was not too
late.

My heart beat fast as I considered Karelia as she was
now, her spirit and her goodness depleted. Her cruelty
would surely be redoubled if I were to murder her
lover. She would stand there pleasuring herself as I
suffered the unimaginable pain that she would inflict
on me.

As I tried to imagine the unimaginable, I caught
myself moaning softly and noticed that my saddle had
become slippery.

Gods, why did it have to be like this? Why couldn't I
enjoy the passions of other women in the arms of men
who would care for them? Why could I only feel
pleasure when there was pain and suffering around me?
It didn't even matter if that pain was my own.

I closed my eyes and my hands clasped my breasts as
the gentle movement of my mount continued to stimulate
my nether regions. I was tired, so tired. So it was
that I gave myself up to my desires.

In my mind I was back in the arena where I had first
met Karelia, and where the tableau of perverted death
was about to unfold...

Will continue in chapter 4...