“Consuls of the Redoubt,” Wigg began, raising his voice so that all could hear. “Time is short; therefore I shall be brief. It is my unfortunate task to inform you all that our nation is being plagued by creatures the likes of which we have not seen for hundreds of years. They have already killed several of the Royal Guard, and are no doubt responsible for the mysterious disappearances of several of your brothers over the course of the last few months. Since those of you here are without the aid of time enchantments, you have probably never seen the beings of which I now speak. But rest assured they do once again exist, apparently roaming the countryside at will, and the Directorate is asking your help to protect the citizenry from them.”
The consuls turned to one another with puzzled looks upon their faces, but none of them spoke as they waited respectfully for the Lead Wizard to resume his address.
“The creatures of which I speak are the blood stalker, which seeks out and destroys males of endowed blood, and the screaming harpy, the giant bird of prey with the head of a woman. We believe that an unknown disturbance in the natural flow of the craft has reactivated some of these beings, and we now ask your help in destroying them.” It pained the old wizard to lie to these brothers of endowed blood who sat so respectfully before him. But he had no choice.
“As you know, the coronation of the prince is almost upon us. It is for this reason that we are unable to use the Royal Guard in this endeavor, since their attendance at the palace shall be needed for matters of security, including controlling the crowd. Due to the unsurpassed popularity of both the prince and the king, the attendance is expected to exceed all known records. Under normal circumstances the Directorate itself would have helped guide you in this charge, but we, too, must remain at the palace, for the same reasons as the Guard.”
“Those of you who were selected to be here this night were chosen because of your long years of service and your relatively higher abilities in the craft,” he continued. “I charge each of you to select eleven others, taken from members not present, and to form small companies of a dozen each. Each of these squads is to go out across the nation in search of these monsters, to destroy them wherever they are found.”
Wigg turned around slightly and gestured to the other wizards seated behind him. “The Directorate will give you detailed training in how best to kill these nightmares, but let me say this first: The blood stalker can only be killed by crushing its skull. And the yellow brain matter that flows from it is fatal. Under no circumstances are you to allow it to touch your skin. The harpy, on the other hand, has no such danger in its bodily fluids but is infinitely stronger, larger, and therefore more difficult to kill. The best methods for its destruction are fire or the use of a wizard’s warp, crushing it to death.” He paused, thinking of the warp he had used to kill the harpy.
“And lastly,” he said more slowly, “know that many of you in this room may not be coming back, that you may quite possibly perish in these attempts. We have no idea how many of these beings are loose in the nation, but we are reasonably sure that there are far more than the two we have already dispatched.” He paused, lowering his head slightly. “May the Afterlife grant you the wisdom to prevail.”
And may all of us, each and every one, survive the events of the next few days.
7
Kluge shuddered, partly out of sexual need and partly out of emotional longing as she slowly licked the unusually tender area high up on one of his wings, the small spot at the top that she knew from experience was a Minion area of sexual pleasure. They had been at sea for fourteen days now, and she had said little about their mission, other than occasionally making sure they were on course for the proper area of the Eutracian coast and verifying that all the other warships were dutifully following. Even today, when she had casually ordered him to her stateroom, and she had alluded to no more than a discussion of their mission.
Naked, Succiu slid up closer behind him as he sat on the edge of the large bed. She rather painfully bit the side of his neck as she hungrily watched his sexual excitement come to fruition.
“I assume, Mistress, that my presence here involves more than simply receiving my orders for tomorrow,” he said, trying to contain both his sarcasm and his intense longing for the second mistress. He had heard stories of those who had not pleased her, and despite how much he enjoyed these times with her, he had no desire to join the ranks of lesser men who had not risen to the challenge. He would do as he was told.
She threw a shock of her long, silken hair back over one shoulder and reached languidly around him, her long, painted nails teasing his groin.
“You assume correctly, Commander,” she said coyly. “It has been too long since we have joined, and despite our closeness during the last fourteen days, until now I had never been able to find the right moment. As you are aware, the First Mistress does not know of the times that we share together in this way, and would indeed not be pleased to learn of it. But, then again, she does not need to know, does she?”
Kluge shook his head slightly. Both he and the second mistress were well aware of the fact that when Failee had first perfected the Minions, the First Mistress had forbidden any such contact between her creations and the Coven, or the Minions and the native women of Parthalon, for that matter. All mating must be strictly for the purposes of siring more warriors, she had said. And it is exactly like Succiu to rebel against her, Kluge thought to himself. Especially when it come to her needs of the flesh. The first few times she had ordered him to lie with her he had feared for his life and had been barely able to perform. But, with the passage of time, not only was he at least partially able to satisfy her amazing hungers but he had come to want her heart, as well.
“You continue to dare to defy Failee in this way, even now, at this most important of times?” Kluge asked. He knew that Succiu was deadly, and that he must obey her orders to the letter, whatever they may be. But he also had no desire to have the First Mistress learn of their trysts and punish him with death, simply for submitting to the beauty before him.
“Failee is my problem, not yours,” she said dismissively.
Slowly uncoiling her long legs from beneath her, she moved away from him and sat up on the bed, holding her knees in front of her. For a brief moment something in her countenance had changed—become even more conspiratorial. It was almost as if Succiu regarded Failee as something of a challenge, and a welcome one at that.
“The First Mistress long ago abandoned her earthly pleasures and turned her talents solely toward the mastery of a certain aspect of the craft,” she continued coyly. She began to circle the inside of his ear maddeningly with her tongue. “But I, the second mistress, refuse to be bound by her constraints in this regard,” Succiu continued. “Besides, aren’t you pleased?”
“Of course, Mistress,” he answered automatically.
“But business before pleasure. Turn around and face me,” she ordered.
He turned around on the black silk sheets and found himself gazing directly into the dark, almond eyes. She was looking at him with dead seriousness, the playfulness now completely gone.
“Tomorrow is a very special day,” she said. “We shall have been at sea for fifteen days with favorable winds at our backs, and so we must prepare. Listen carefully, for my orders are very explicit, and must be followed to the letter. If tomorrow does not proceed exactly as planned, you will have no need to worry about your attack, for we will all be dead and no trace of us, not even of our armada, will be found.”