Cheilin Saga ~ 16

Cheilin Saga ~ 16  The Meeting (Mawld & Hortense)

By Len Morgan

Mistress Hortense was chosen to answer the priest Roffal’s call.   She was the one, who had to endure the long and arduous journey through craggy mountain passes in weather ranging through blistering sun and blizzards of hard ice rain.  Constantly chilling winds chaffed her flesh to the bone.   As they came within first sight of the Northern slopes of Dalacia, what she really desired above all things was a hot bath; something she knew to be a forlorn hope in such an advanced theatre of war.   The very last thing she required was to be accosted by the meddlesome priest who started this whole thing in the first place.   But, there he was, waiting to greet her like a painful suppurating wound, throbbing persistently, on and on and on…

“You have to take action mistress!   He’s even requisitioned buildings at a local farm, for his main headquarters, and further he’s paying for their use.   All our hard-won spoils are being squandered on luxury and pandering to the local Dalacian slime.   You must come immediately to the main barn and witness his latest folly,” Roffal prattled on...

“She maintained her silence and forced a mind-gag on his tongue, which left him frothing at the mouth and wrestling with his throat as though he were attempting to strangle himself.   She smiled, with small satisfaction, she knew it was unfortunately only a temporary respite.  Roffal would soon recover.

 A lieutenant stepped forward as her party approached the barn indicated by Roffal; who was now on his knees some twenty yards behind them with more immediate matters on his mind.  

Amazing how a glimpse of your own mortality can show you what is truly important in life, she thought with the secretive smile still playing momentarily on her lips.

“Mistress!” The man fell to his knees, head bowed, before her.

“My slave,” she said ritually.

“Unto death mistress” he replied immediately.  She did not openly admit recognising him but knew he had been her property, some eighteen months earlier, when she had agonised whether he should live or die.   Finally, she had left it to chance and sent him to the arena of blood at the conjunction.

“Get up now and lead me to Mawld” she commanded.

As they approached the entrance she could see a large man, head and shoulders above those surrounding him, silhouetted against the light coming from somewhere within the barn.

She skimmed his mind and knew at once he was not her man.

“I seek General Mawld” she said.

“Yes, mistress this way,” he led her further into the building, to one of the horse stalls.   Mawld was seated on a packing case, at a makeshift bench consisting of two other cases with planks spread lengthways between them.   The bench bowed slightly from constant use, it was completely covered by a patchwork map made from dozens of sheets of paper, scraps of various types’ grades and sizes, overlapping at various angles.   He stood up as she entered and turned to greet her. 

“You can set the scale for a map and ensure that cartographers stick to it but you cannot dictate its content,” he smiled.   “Mistress Hortense,” he bowed to her, “we have been eagerly anticipating the pleasure of your company these several days past.    No doubt you have been sightseeing.  It is a beautiful country is it not?   This way,” he said, leading her several stalls down, and nearer to the centre of the building.

She could see smoke, no steam, drifting from within, raising her hopes, and sure enough in the centre of the enclosed space stood a coopered wooden bath filled with hot water, foaming perfumed suds that immediately calmed her mind.

“It has been a hard day,” he said, "we can talk whilst I bathe.”

Her surprised and hurt look was a picture as he removed his topcoat.   He looked her full in the face and smiled, “you think me oafish and crass?   This young woman is Faun; she is the daughter of our host.  She suggested that this might be the best gesture to welcome such an important visitor.   She has volunteered to tend to your needs whilst you are here.   We shall talk further when you are rested and refreshed.  I still have work to do so I will leave you both to become better acquainted.   Enjoy the bath” was his parting quip.

She entered a warm carpeted bathing area, the walls completely covered with woven tapestries, a crystal globe stood on a stand facing her at the far end of the stall, there were towels on racks in front of a hearth containing glowing embers. Fawn helped her disrobe and enter the bath, then with soap oil and flannel she washed her efficiently smoothing away the aches and knotted muscles inflicted by her journey.  Relaxed and refreshed with sweet wine she donned the proffered robe and sandals.  Hortense smiled and scanned the young woman critically, her own handmaidens knew she could take care of herself, they would await her summons at the entrance, where they were no doubt entrancing Mawld’s staff officers.   He is astute and not averse to humour, she thought.

The girl was young, intelligent and in love with Mawld, though she doubted he would be aware of that.

“Would you like me to help you gain your heart's desire?” she asked, breaking the silence between them.

The girl looked shocked and coloured up, “Mistress Hortense, why would you want to concern yourself with such as me?”

She recovers well thought Hortense, “he is a handsome man and would be quite a catch, and it is within my power to arrange things?   All I want in return is for you to open your mind to me so I can judge his actions through your eyes.”

“I—I don’t think…” she began.

“Young women of your age rarely do think, or are incapable of thinking; it takes time to acquire that ability.”

“But you are not much older…”

“Look closer at me,” Hortense commanded.   “Look at my eyes!”

“I don’t want…” Faun began.

Suddenly she was gazing at herself, through Faun’s eyes, and realised she really did look incredibly young despite having lived several full and eventful lives.   But, a hundred & thirty years was only half the time she expected to live inside her current body, and the god willing, there would be many more to follow.   She tuned her mind in on the girl, but found nothing; her mind was in an empty vessel, she was caught in a mind trap.   The girl was a trap!  With that realisation came fear.   She struggled and fought to free herself, but in vain.   Fear changed to prickly icicles of terror as she watched her own body turn to leave the stall, then everything went black, she was alone and lacking all sensory input.

Fawn picked up the crystal globe and followed behind as if at the command of the mistress; the body of Hortense now inhabited by another.

“Wait here and eat, this girl will see to your requirements,”  she said to her handmaidens. Taking the globe from Faun, she said, “I will call if I require your assistance, but I may be some time.”   She strode purposefully away from the barn and her attendants; Never to be seen again.

The farmer and his daughter Faun disappeared the following day, together with two of the handmaidens.   Roffal was furious, accusing Mawld of engineering a kidnapping.   Hortens’s remaining assistants carried out a hurried investigation but came to no conclusions either way. Furthermore, Bedelacq was unable to commune with her so summarily pronounced her dead.   Several senior Brides were sent from Blutt central to investigate, and Mawld was recalled to account.   They held a brief trial, accusing him of treason, but the findings were inconclusive.   He was stripped of his rank even though there was no proof of his involvement.  At his own request, he was returned to the front as a humble private soldier.   On his return to the front General Hagg was in command.  From then on the war went badly for Bluttland.

(to be continued)

Copyright Len Morgan