11.7.0

A few nights later, alone in her chambers, Zyrdicia emerged from a hot bath and wrapped herself in a thick black towel. She had sent Portia to Lyr to run an errand related to the arcanium. She knew that Dirk was out of the castle for the day, inspecting troops in the Plains of Death. He was not expected until very late. That meant that she had all evening to entertain herself for a change. She considered finally taking a few hours to explore the elfin tunnels below the castle. She could do that and still have time to spare before dawn to go play with her volcano. She had not seen the volcano in a few days and missed the sight of its new lake of bubbling magma. She had unfortunately felt a need to rest for a few days following her unexpected invitation to Castle Greystone.

Zyrdicia stretched luxuriously, in no hurry to begin her night's adventure. Food had been delivered some time ago. Since the lord of the castle was gone, the servants assumed that she would prefer to dine alone. She opened the ornate, silver cover on the tray and examined the steaming contents. She wrinkled her nose, disinterested, pouring herself a glass of wine instead.

As she poured, she heard a muffled sound behind her. She was not alone in her chambers after all. She caught the subtle scent of leather in the air and surmised who it must be. "Back so soon?" she asked, without turning around. She started to fill a second goblet.

"Mm-hm," came the reticent answer. Leather-clad hands suddenly dropped a velvet blindfold over her eyes.

Zyrdicia smiled, "This game again?"

"Shh!" came the response, as unseen lips kissed her neck gracelessly. The moment the lips touched her skin she knew that it was not Dirk. Whoever it was about the right height and build, but a flood of sensory information told her that it was an imposter. She had experienced countless seductive schemes by men obsessed with her, but this was certainly a first. Unaware of the Edict, this fool thought that he would be able to dupe her into sexual submission by pretending to be her purported lover. She found his erroneous assumption about her relationship with the prince as laughable as this scheme. The technically sexless reality of the relationship would have only baffled this idiot.

Behind her, as he pressed himself against her, she noticed his all-too-diminutive arousal. His fumbling hands reached to remove the towel she wore. She wished that she was wearing her enchanted belt, if only to splatter his unsuspecting brain against the wall. No matter, she thought, there are other ways to splatter brains.

She propelled her psyche into his, violating his mind as he had undoubtedly hoped to do to her body. It would have been easier, had she been able to see him, but his brain was primitive enough that it was a simple enough task for one as skilled as she. She had engaged in psychic warfare with far more advanced entities; rending the mind of a human such as this was trivial. She was ruthless with him, exerting so much pressure inside his brain when she entered it that his whole body convulsed. Behind her, he moaned, then slumped to the ground. His brain was incapable of moving his muscles in more than an involuntary twitch, but he was still very much alive.

She tossed the blindfold away and looked behind her. It was Donovain, one of Dirk's knights. She had joked with the man on several occasions about nothing in particular. She was not surprised that he had become infatuated. She was, however, surprised by the boldness of the gesture. Since her arrival, Dirk had always been aggravated by her friendliness with the men who served him. She rolled her eyes, dreading his inevitable reaction already.

"Ugh," she grimaced, as she wiped the slobber off her neck with a silken kerchief. She tossed the expensive cloth into the fire as though it were tainted with something vile. "Could you have drooled any more?"

Zyrdicia turned then and regarded Donovain. A trace of demonic malice etched her features.. "Was it good for you?" she sneered, certain that he could hear her. "Were you surprised to discover how gods fuck, you pathetic waste of flesh?"

A thin trickle of blood ran out of both his ears. She was disappointed that he was dying so quickly. His brain was shutting down his vital systems one by one. His reflexes still functioned somewhat - his eyes blinked and he seemed to breathe slightly, though he was incapable of any other movement. She would have to work quickly, even if she intervened with magic to prolong his life a little. She went to a chest of drawers and pulled out clothes. She dressed hurriedly, making no effort to hide herself from him. She wanted him to see her, to torment him.

"I could kill you with a thought right now and put you out of your misery, but that would be so pointless. I think we can have a bit more fun together before you leave this world, Donovain," she smiled, kneeling down next to him. She called her dagger to her, and went to work. "I was very careful to do nothing to harm your mind's capacity to process pain. And rest assured, I will visit you in the underworld soon and torment you there too. Love hurts, doesn't it, dear?"

11.7.1

The prince returned from his business with the troops shortly before midnight. As his party crossed the drawbridge into Castle Blackpool's grounds, he found a large crowd gathered in the outer courtyard. Dozens of soldiers stood transfixed by a strange sight.

In the center of the courtyard, someone had fixed a twelve-foot tall metal pole. Several purple and black ribbons fluttered around it like maypole streamers. The top end had been sharpened to a vicious-looking point. A corpse had been impaled upon it. It looked as though the man had literally sat upon the point and been forced down upon it. The stake was woven through the torso, protruding first out the dead man's stomach, then reentering the body through his chest only to reemerge out his upper back. The man's arms were bound to a metal bar, set horizontally behind his shoulders.

Dirk stared for a moment, then recognized the mangled body as Donovain's. Someone had gruesomely murdered one of his knights. It was surprising. His knights were elite warriors, trained killers. They were feared throughout the kingdom. Someone had gone to a great deal of trouble to make a statement like this. "What is the meaning of this?" he asked curiously as he dismounted from his horse.

As he regarded the new courtyard decoration, it dawned on him that it had to be Zyrdicia's work. Dirk knew her well enough to be certain that there would have to be some creative quality to such a display, or she would consider it unworthy of her aesthetic standards. His mind slowly discerned the shape she had intended. The corpse had been arranged to bend several times along the vertical length of the stake passing through it. Bones had been broken carefully along the legs and torso to create a very deliberate rounded, undulating quality. The arms sticking out near the top made it clear that the image was supposed to represent a grotesque approximation of her waved-bladed dagger symbol. As Dirk stared more closely, he could see that the corpse's mouth was stuffed with a severed piece of male anatomy. She had a gift for brutality that could shock even his own sophisticated sensibility for such things.

Cai emerged from the background where he had been speaking to a small group of guards about the gruesome spectacle. He bowed and explained, "According to witnesses, the Baroness left him as a public reminder, my lord."

"A reminder of what?"

"Her words - how she punishes unwanted, sexual advances by unworthy mortals. That would be a direct quote, I think." Cai paused before adding, "Those are the only words I dare repeat. I will spare you the profanity that accompanied the utterance. Needless to say, I think her point is well taken." Cai had known Donovain for years. They had been knighted about the same time. He had never expected the man to be this stupid.

"Do you know what happened?"

Cai shook his head, "No, my lord. I'm sure she will tell you the story herself. If not, let me know and I will coax it out of Portia."

"When did this take place?"

"An few hours ago. I'm surprised you could not hear her giggling all the way out in the Plains of Death when she put him here. She is rather proud of this piece of...artwork. He was still alive when she did this. According to witnesses, it was rather terrifying to behold." Cai glanced up at the impaled body. The spectacle was so perversely macabre that it was difficult not to gape at it. Even in Castle Blackpool, where atrocity was well at home, something this grisly was hard to ignore.

"Where is she now?"

"She left muttering something about wanting to kill some more. I'm glad she is on your side and not our enemy's, my lord," the seneschal smiled thinly. "Do you want me to have someone get the body down and send it to his family?" Cai wondered, not at all sure how they would go about doing that.

"No. Leave him there for the crows," the prince said curtly, walking away.