The Festival

by cvn88

Part I : The Festival Part II : Lord Vergne's Gift

Part I : The Festival

Audra did not really want to stop in the small village ahead, but she had little choice. She had managed to elude her pursuers, but had been kept on the go for days with little sleep. Though it was only noon, she knew that if she did not rest soon she'd likely cause herself harm or, worse yet, blunder back into the path of the hounds. If that happened, and her mission fail, it would mean trouble for the Duke.

The village itself was unremarkable, nestled as it was near one end of a long and narrow valley. A scattering of houses, a smithy, and a mill surrounded a small inn, while farms dotted the landscape beyond. Audra guessed there were two or three more like it in the valley. As isolated as the valley was, few outside the immediate region likely knew nor cared of its existence, which would make it an ideal place to rest before resuming her journey.

Her mind made up, the tall redhead stepped out of the treeline, cursing once again the need to abandon her mount in order to throw off pursuit. While she thought it highly unlikely a suitable steed could be found here, she would remember to ask.

Entering the village she drew curious but non-threatening stares from those about on the streets. She could not help but notice that the men looked a bit longer and a bit harder than did the women. Few strangers likely came through here and none likely presented her image. By tying back her hair, she left bare her pleasant face with its bright green eyes. Though her long cloak his her fighting leathers, it could not disguise her well-formed figure, with the large breasts and wide hips which had made her sword training so difficult that she could not qualify for the Duke's guard. She still regretted that, but her consolation rested in the fact that she was often entrusted with delicate missions like the one she was now on, where her skill was enough to give her a good chance at survival against all but the best opponents.

Striding purposefully forward, Audra quickly reached the inn. Other than the curious villagers she had seen nothing of note, increasing her confidence she could safely remain here until morning.

Inside, the common room was deserted, except for the innkeeper himself, drinking behind the bar. The thin, hard-faced man greeted her with some surprise, though with a smile that belied his harsh looks.

"Ah, milady. Forgive me, but I was not expecting any guests, especially female guests, today. I am Miken, owner of the Lord's Vow and mayor of this village. How may I be of service?"

"A room, innkeeper, with a comfortable bed. And a hot meal this evening. This is all I require." When the man seemed to hesitate, she added, "Fear not, I have coin to pay."

"It is not that, milady. I could sense that you were not one to try and take what you cannot afford." The man paused, clearly uncertain. "It is just that, well, tonight is Festival, and by law all women who have not yet been presented must participate. Should you stay here, you too would be required to attend tonight. Perhaps you would like to continue your journey. There remains enough day so that should you take the Old Western Road you can make Piedra by dusk. Lachin runs a fine establishment there and would certainly provide you with what you seek."

Though Audra wondered at an innkeeper who would refuse a guest at an otherwise empty inn she knew she was too tired to continue. Plus, west was the last direction she wanted to go. "No, good innkeeper. I fear that I can travel no more until I rest. If need be I shall attend your festival, after I have slept and eaten. . . . And a bath would be more than welcome, if possible."

Miken sighed, but did not argue further. After negotiating a reasonable fare he led Audra up the back stair. "My daughter and I have the first two rooms on the right, those on the left are for guests. You may have your choice. Before dusk, I shall send my daughter Rita with a small meal, since there shall be much to eat at Festival. She shall also assist you in your bath and in preparing for tonight, if such is acceptable to you."

Assenting, Audra thanked the innkeeper and then selected a room which would allow her to hear anyone coming up the stair, yet had a window through which she could flee should the need arise. It was only after Miken left that Audra realized she had not asked about a horse, but decided to wait until evening. Stripping down to her shift and placing her weapons within easy reach, she bolted the door and lay down. Though the bed was uncomfortable, she was asleep before she would think of complaining.

Some time later, Audra awakened to the sound of someone coming up the stairs. She grasped her short sword, silently climbing out of bed and positioning herself near the door. Momentarily, there came a tentative knock, and a female voice gently calling, "Milady, are you awake. I am here with supper. Milady?" Not having heard anyone else, Audra cautiously opened the door to find an attractive young woman, a few years younger than herself, waiting with a tray upon which sat a bowl of stew, some bread, and a flagon of ale. Audra allowed the young brunette into her room, hiding the short sword behind her back so as not to frighten her visitor.

"I am Rita. My father sent me with supper and to help you prepare for Festival."

Audra gratefully began eating, trusting that the innocent-seeming innkeeper and his daughter would not stoop to poisoning her. Between bites, she began to ask about the ceremony.

"Please, Rita, call me Audra. I am no Lady. But tell me, what exactly is this festival, and why must I, a traveler just passing through, attend? Mind you, I have no objection, but is it really required by law"

"Mil . . . Audra, the Festival takes place every seven years. It is both a celebration and a remembrance of the time generations past when the first Lord Vergne took our valley under his protection. To this day his descendents continue to keep us safe from the dangers of the outside world. Without them, we would be at the mercy of marauders, given our isolation from the High King's realm and his justice."

Though she had never heard of any Lord Vergne on her travels, Audra could understand such a situation. Many isolated areas swore fealty to a local noble, no matter to what kingdom the maps said they belonged. This valley was certainly isolated enough, though it was unusual for one family to hold sway for an extended period without attracting some notice. Even as she thought this, she realized Rita was continuing to answer her questions.

". . . and as part of the Compact made long ago. In return for his protection, Lord Vergne asked merely that the four villages of the valley each provide him with two young women to serve as handmaidens. These women would leave their former lives behind and live with him at his manor for the rest of their days. Every seven years the offering would be repeated, so long as Lord Vergne kept up safe. It is at Festival that Lord Vergne selects his handmaidens, and the law says that all women in the valley, not all women of the valley, must present themselves once to be chosen. If not selected, they are free from all obligations in this regard."

Here Audra interrupted, "But what is she does not want to serve? I for one have no desire to be some noble's companion."

"Please, Audra, do not worry. According to custom, Lord Vergne must give the Chosen an opportunity to decline the honor, in which case another is selected in her place. However, it has been so long since this happened that none alive today can remember it. For most women, this is our only real chance to escape our fate and see more of the world than our home village. Plus, the Chosen's family is exempt from most taxes until the next Festival. It is my greatest hope that Lord Vergne chooses me tonight."

Audra could understand how the girl felt. Not all women had her opportunity to travel and see the world, although being bound to serve some lord was not her idea of an alternative to village life. "Very well, for your sake then I hope you are chosen. As for me, I shall attend, though if selected I will have to refuse."

Rita audibly sighed in relief. "I am glad you agree. Had you refused, you would have been placed under sentence of death, as would all who knew of your presence but let you avoid the Festival. Father and I knew we could not force you to attend, and are thankful that you made the choice of your own free will. Now that you have eaten, would you like to bathe?"

Audra did not like the idea of a death sentence hanging over the head of women who did not want to participate in this ceremony. She decided she would bring this situation to the Duke's attention once his current crisis was resolved. For now, however, she would not place her hosts at risk and would attend the ceremony. After both women had bathed, Audra produced the clothing they would wear to the ceremony, saying that she and her father had acquired Audra's clothing while she slept. Over their shifts they would wear a shear white robe rimmed in blue, along with old but comfortable sandals and a garland of flowers in their hair. Audra was mildly concerned she would have to go unarmed, but rationalized it, thinking that if nothing else, participating in the Festival would be the last thing her pursuers would expect in the unlikely event they stumbled into the valley. "Hiding in plain sight" she muttered to herself as Rita led her out of the chamber.

Outside, she saw the rest of the villagers milling about, gradually forming into a procession with Miken at its head. Immediately behind the mayor stood about a dozen young women, ranging in age from young teens to women about Rita's age, attired as Audra and Rita. "Come, though father shall lead the village to the Festival, but we have the place of honor at the head of the line."

Following Miken and accompanied by music and singing, the villagers made their way into the valley, with Rita explaining that the Festival site was located as much as possible an equal distance from each village. Along the way Audra introduced herself to the other berobed women. Some of the older ones were already married, one having had a daughter, and these hoped they were not chosen, having already begun their adult lives. Most of the younger ones, girls really, shared Rita's view and hoped they would be selected.

When they reached their destination they found the residents of the other three villages themselves just arriving. The Festival site was a large clearing lit by torches and a bonfire, with a stone building at one end. To the side of the building's lone door a large dais had been erected, and it was here that Rita and the other women led Audra. She saw that each village presented about the same number of young women, and the only way to tell the villages apart was that each had a different color trim for their robe. On the stage, there were areas marked with each color, so Audra followed Rita into the blue section at one end of the dais. There were two lines, marked in blue, along the rear of the dais.

"When the gong sounds we kneel here, the younger ones in front, the older ones behind. As the oldest, your place is at the end of the second line. Once Lord Vergne emerges from the building there will be a brief ritual. Answer 'yes' to the one question that will be put to us. While Lord Vergne makes his choices, remain kneeling with your head bowed. After he has Chosen, there will be another brief ritual, then he and his handmaidens will depart, Only then can you rise and join the celebration. With luck, I shall not be here to join you."

Audra nodded and wished the young woman luck. She hoped it would not take long for the ceremony to begin. Fortunately, after just a few moments an unseen gong sounded and Audra joined the women on the dais as they knelt. She saw a small group of men emerge from the building. Some were clearly guards, though from their lack of military bearing Audra wondered if Lord Vergne could truly defend the valley from attack. Others were clearly the lord's advisors and functionaries, with Rita mentioning some of their roles.

Audra needed no help in identifying Lord Vergne. A tall, generally plain man with a shaved head, he was, from a distance, an unremarkable figure. But when Audra caught a glimpse of his eyes, she sensed a self-assurance that most men, including nobles, lacked. He radiated a feeling of confidence and command that Audra had to admire. Wearing a bright colored robe and bedecked with minimal jewelry, just a few rings and bracelets, a necklace, and a tiara, Lord Vergne followed his men to a position at the front of the dais and faced the assembled villagers.

An aged man Rita identified as the Castellan addressed the crowd. "Attention all! The time of the Festival is upon us once again. All praise to those who swore the oaths, and all praise to their descendant who honor these vows tonight. As it has been, and as it shall be, tonight the Lord and his people renew their Compact rejoice, for through this pact peace and joy continue for us all."

"In return for his protection, the Lord asks only that you provide his handmaidens to serve at his side. Have all those who are required to present themselves been assembled?"

Audra was ready to reply, but stopped when she saw Miken and three other men whom she assumed to be the other mayors, step forward from the crowd. In unison, they responded, "All are present, Great Lord, and are ready to be Chosen," and then stepped back into the crowd.

The men on the dais then turned their backs to the crowd and faced the assembled women. "You have presented yourselves in accordance with custom and the law," spoke the Castellan. "Are you prepared to be Chosen?" Even though she wasn't, Audra went along and joined the others as they responded affirmatively. After speaking, the women bowed their heads. From the corner of her eye Audra saw that Lord Vergne stepped forward, starting at the far end from Audra with those women wearing green trim.

He stopped before each woman, whether plain or beautiful, and paused as he examined them. With some, he used his finger to gently raise her chin and look her in the face. After this, he stepped away, moving on to the next as the woman lowered her gaze.

At the fifth woman, Lord Vergne took a slightly longer pause, and as he stepped away the woman, a young, full-figured blonde, kept her head upraised. Once he had fully moved from in front of her she rose and stood at attention, looking strait out at the crowd. Audra heard a cry, though she could not tell if it was one of sorrow or joy, from some of the villagers even as Rita needlessly whispered "She is the first to be Chosen."

A few minutes later another blonde, this one a little older and with a lean, athletic build arose, prompting a similar reaction from the crowd. As she did so, Lord Vergne ignored the rest of the women from that village and moved on to the next group. The Chosen remained at attention, while their companions sagged with released tension.

The process repeated itself with the next two groups of women. From what she could see, there was no pattern to Lord Vergne's selections. He chose from the oldest and youngest women present, without apparent regard to hair color, height, body shape or any other factor. In no instance did he examine all the women from a village before making his selections, and he never went back to a bypassed woman. As he progressed to the final group, the six Chosen remained at attention, not moving even to turn their heads.

When the noble began examining Audra's group, she soon realized that her position would make her the last to be examined. "If he gets this far," she thought, hoping she would not be put in the position of having to refuse being chosen. But as the lord continued his perusal, he selected none of the girls in the front row, and Audra could see their disappointment as their shoulders slumped as he passed them by. She could also sense Rita's growing excitement as the young woman's chances of being selected increased.

Audra's reaction was just the opposite, and her unease grew as Lord Vergne bypassed one woman after another. Soon only three remained, Audra, Rita, and a tall, brown-haired girl named Lara. It seemed that Audra's goal of getting rested and quietly moving on would be thwarted. She could only hope her refusal would be understood by all involved.

To her dismay, she saw Lord Vergne bypass Lara, causing the crowd to murmur with amazement and Rita to nearly squealed with glee. Lord Vergne stopped in front of Rita and lifted her chin. A moment later Audra heard the girl gasp and saw her shudder in pleasure. As Lord Vergne stepped in front of her, Audra was aware of Rita rising to attention.

Even as Audra prepared to refuse the "honor" about to be bestowed upon her, Lord Vergne lifted her face just enough so that she looked up upon him. Up close, she could see that her earlier impressions had been correct. An otherwise unremarkable face was dominated by the cold confidence of his eyes. As he began to smile, a smile which worryingly did not reach his eyes, Audra's gaze rose slightly to the gem embedded in his tiara. The blue stone seemed to be glowing ever so slightly and . . .

Audra gasped as a wave of pleasure coursed through her body. Never before had she felt anything like this. Every inch of her skin felt so sensitive, and everything, from her clothing to the air itself, caused her arousal to increase. She knew, to the core of her being, that this pleasure came as a gift from this man, this most handsome man, this god, her Master, who stood before her, allowing her to bask in His glory. While to all who watched only a second passed, to Audra it was an eternity of pleasure, each moment of which strengthened the love and loyalty she felt towards her Lord.

Eventually, even this eternal moment came to an end and her Master stepped from in front of her. As He did so, Audra heard His voice, His harmonious, melodious voice, inside her head. "Arise, my slave, and stand ready." Gracefully, as a proper slave should when in the presence of her Master, Audra obeyed, assuming the same attentive stance as her fellow Sisters.

The Master moved back to the front of the dais. Audra knew other men awaited him there, but they, like the villagers, the unchosen women, the Duke, her mission, and everything else, were irrelevant. Only the Master mattered. Only the Master, and Obedience.

His voice rang out as he addressed the crowd, and it was the sweetest sound Audra had ever heard. "I have Chosen, and I am pleased with my handmaidens. The Compact has been upheld; the promise made has been kept. Now I present to you the Chosen, and according to custom give them the choice of whether to accept the Choice."

With that His voice again sounded inside Audra's mind, "Come forward, my slaves, and accept the honor that has been bestowed upon you."

With no thought of disobeying, Audra, along with her Sisters, stepped forward, ignoring the other women even as they made way. It felt as if she were floating on air rather than walking as she approached her Master, eager to swear herself to Him. Upon reaching the front of the dais Audra and her Sisters formed two lines, one on each side of their Master, angled slightly toward the crowd, with Audra anchoring the far end of the line on His right. She looked across at she who had been first Chosen. In passing she noted that the young blonde's eyes were now milky white and assumed hers were as well. "The Mark of the Master, showing that I am His," Audra thought with pride.

In the order selected, each of the Chosen declared their acceptance of being selected, and when it was Audra's turn she echoed their statements, in a clear, forceful voice, never having been more sure of anything in her life.

"I accept with joy the honor of being Chosen. I forsake all that I am, all that I was, all that I would have been. From this day forth, I am Handmaiden to my Lord."

Audra heard the crowd cheer as she finished, but her attention was focused solely on her Master as his wonderful voice again filled her ears. "Thus have they been Chosen, thus have they accepted of their own free will. As Handmaidens, they have no place in the common world; they do not, and never did, exist. None shall speak of them again, their possessions are to be sold or destroyed, in accordance with custom and the law."

"So shall it be done," intoned the crowd.

"Now, I must depart, and return to my watch over the valley and its people. Feast and dance to your heart's content, for it is Festival, a time of joy!" As Lord Vergne finished speaking the fires slowly dimmed to their previous level. Preceded by his advisors and guards, the Lord stepped down from the dais and moved towards the stone building. As he did so, his handmaidens, responding to his mental command of "Attend me," moved into position, four to each side of Him, two ahead and two behind. Audra had the honor of leading the line on the right. Looking neither left nor right, she proudly preceded her Master into the building, eagerly looking forward to the chance to serve. When the entire party had entered the building, a stone door slid shut, and outside Festival resumed with food, wine, and song.

Though Lord Vergne and his advisors would return for the next Festival, neither Audra nor any of the other Handmaidens were ever seen again.

Part II : Lord Vergne's Gift

The sweat glistened off the two women's bodies as they went at each other with their practice swords in the castle's training area. Moving sinuously back and forth, they displayed the grace and ability that came from nearly a decade as sell-swords. Such an early morning practice had become a tradition in the years since blonde-haired Petra and chocolate-skinned Delia had become friends and lovers and not even the chill of approaching winter altered their routine.

Each had sensed the approaching page and so was prepared to pause for his message upon his arrival; ignoring a message from one's employer both their sense of honor and Guild regulations. Wiping the sweat from their lean, athletic bodies, they wondered what the Baron could want with them so early in the day.

"Pardon, captains, but the Baron requires your presence in his audience chamber in one hour. He further orders that you are to be in uniform and prepared for an immediate departure."

Even as they acknowledged the message and dismissed the page, Petra and Delia exchanged a guarded look with one another. The Baron was well aware that they planned to leave his service when their contracts expired after the Solstice, and it was just like him to fill their remaining timee with some tedious task of little import but requiring exhausting travel. Nonetheless, they were sworn to him, for now, and neither thought of doing anything but what their duty demanded.

Back in their adjoining quarters they helped each other to a quick bath and tried to discern the Baron's intentions as they dressed and packed.

"So, what do you think His Pomposity wants this time," asked Delia as she pulled on her tunic.

"I'm not sure, love. If we're lucky he still has hopes of retaining our talents and hopes to bribe us with an easy and rewarding task." Petra chuckled at Delia's snort of derision. "I know, that's unlikely. He probably realizes no power on earth could make us stay and just wants to milk every last drop of service out of us before we leave."

"Well, I just hope that whatever it is we can still look at ourselves in the morning. Some of the things that . . . man, stands for, well . . . I sometimes wonder why we took service with him."

"Darling Delia, the morning cold must have frozen that southern brain of yours. You know as well as I that after the High King's Peace took hold in the southlands our only options were to become caravan guards," "Boring." "Or, thank you for interrupting, coming north to seek service. It was just our bad luck that the first semi-reasonable job offer which allowed us to stay together happened to be as captains of the Baron's all-female Guard."

"Watch it, woman, I remember how the southern heat seemed to addle your mind, making you prefer the love of a man, of all things, before I was able to set you strait. And it was you who thought this would be a golden opportunity to advance ourselves. We should have looked into the situation before signing our contracts. Then we could've found out the only reason the Baron has his Guard was because his rival the Duke had one first."

"True. And I bet the Duke never tried to do to his Guard what the Baron tried to do to us at the beginning. Even if you hadn't taught me that a man is no substitute for a good woman, the thought of him like that . . . it makes me sick."

"Now you know how I've always felt about all men. Do you remember the look on his face when we explicitly detailed what the Guild would allow us to do to him if he even touched any woman under our command? That expression has made these past years worthwhile. The idiot, thinking our contracts made us his slaves. Hmph!"

By the time they finished their conversation Petra and Delia had arrived outside the Baron's audience chamber, dressed in their travelling uniforms. Originally, the Guard's uniforms had been more decorative, and revealing, than functional, but protests by all the Baron's captains had swiftly changed that.

Immediately upon their arrival the two women were ushered into the Baron's presence. The Baron, a short, fat, balding man, was seated behind his desk. He held a sealed envelope in his hand, and a small chest sat on the desk before him.

"Ah, Captains Petra and Delia. Right on time, I see. As alwa . . . as usual, I mean, I can rely on you to do what I ask."

Petra stifled her sigh. It seemed the Baron had not forgotten the one time she and Delia had failed to execute his orders to the letter. A few months earlier, around the Equinox, one of the Duke's agents had obtained information the Baron wished to keep confidential. The entire Guard had been mobilized with orders to return the woman "dead or alive," and it had been Petra and Delia who had tracked her the longest. However, the resourceful agent had finally evaded them in the unmapped valleys to the east.

The Baron had been incensed upon their empty-handed return, but a few weeks later he appeared to have forgotten the incident. Petra could only wonder why he referred to it now so many months later. She only hoped he was not foolish enough to try and claim this failure somehow obligated them to extend their service with him. It could get so messy with the Guild when one had to kill one's employer.

"Anyway," continued the Baron, "I have a small task for you to perform before your contract with me expires." Both women masked their sighs of relief at one fear being resolved. "It is of no great import, but something which does need to be done now."

"One of the petty nobles to the east of my lands has, quite unknowingly, recently done me a service. I feel it is only proper to offer him a gift in thanks, and with the Solstice fast approaching this is the ideal time to repay my debt. Plus, there is a small task I wish to request of him, with a further gift to be offered if he grants my favor. I know such a mission would usually be assigned to one of my civilian aides, but there are issues which make the two of you ideal for this task."

Petra and Delia exchanged a sidelong glance. There had to be more than the Baron was letting on. Perhaps he did not want this lord to put too much into the gift, as he might were it delivered by one of the baron's noble or knighted vassals. Or perhaps there was some danger involved that required their martial skills.

The Baron continued, heedless of their reaction. "The noble in question is a Lord Vergne. Have either of you heard of him? . . . No. I'm not surprised, he is something of a recluse and it was quite difficult finding out anything noteworthy about him."

"Your task itself is simple. This chest before me contains a collection of jewels and such items that make up my gift to Lord Vergne. You shall take it, and this letter in which I explain my gift and request the favor I mentioned, to the lord and await his reply."

"Very well, milord. It shall be done. How are we to find this Lord . . . Vergne?"

"Ah, Captain Delia, always strait to the heart of the matter. Vergne has several Portals granting access to his keep, which is otherwise inaccessible. The nearest is located just four days ride south and east from here, near the village of Basset Run. This map shows the route. Simply arrive at the Portal, announce yourselves and your mission, and you shall be escorted to the lord's presence."

Petra realized this explained, at least in part, why she and Delia had been tapped for this assignment. Portals were vestiges of ancient magic, from a time when wizards and sorcerers were much more common than the present day. Very rare, Portals allowed instant transport between two points, but were feared by many who did not understand them. Even Delia disliked Portals and all other aspects of magic, excepting only the invaluable Healers. Perhaps the Baron feared someone without military experience would not have the courage to use a Portal, or perhaps he knew Petra and Delia had used them in the southlands, or perhaps he knew how Delia felt about magic and just wished to cause her discomfort in his own, petty way. Regardless, he had selected them, and the trip would use up nearly all the time remaining before Solstice and would likely be the last task they had to perform for the Baron.

Though the Baron left the time of departure to the two captains, Petra and Delia decided to leave immediately. After notifying the other captains of their impending absence so that duty assignments could be altered, they prepared their mounts and a packhorse and were soon on their way. With little else to do as they traveled through familiar territory, they continued their ongoing conversation as to their plans after leaving the Baron's service.

"I just wish there was a chance the Duke would allow us to take service with him. From what I know, he is a much more honorable man than His Corpulence."

"True, Petra. But there is no chance the Duke could ever trust anyone who had been in the Baron's employ. If we know the Baron was behind the assassination attempt on the Duke's heir, the Duke knows as well and would likely view us as agents of another attempt."

"Agreed. Then I say our best chance to see some action lies with one of the border lords. Hah. Perhaps even this Lord Vergne would require our services."

"A petty lordling nobody knows about? I'd rather go home and guard caravans! I still say one of the Plains tribes is our best option. If nothing else, it will give us a rare opportunity to travel the vast expanse of the plains. How many veterans of the Swamp Wars could say that?"

"I admit your point, but does anyone know what currency the tribes use? How would we get paid? Don't be insulted, Delia, but the pleasure of your company in our bed, as wonderful as it is, does not pay the bills. And have you seen what their women wear? It makes His Randiness' original uniforms look demure."

"Oh? I can remember a time when the sight of me in such an outfit would have set your blood racing and driven all thoughts of money from your head."

"It still would. But I'm no longer an innocent girl being seduced by an older woman. I'm older and wiser myself now and know the ways of the world and what a woman needs to survive. Even you must admit money is one of those things. Or do you intend to serve without pay?"

"Not likely. Older and wiser, eh? And you weren't exactly an innocent, you vixen. In fact, as I remember it you seduced me, then put the blame on me since I was five weeks older than you, and the older woman is always responsible."

They shared a laugh at this and rode on. Such conversation consumed most of their journey, thought hey never reached a clear decision. Each night they stopped at an inn and took a room. Having long ago stopped caring what others thought of their love they made o effort to hide the extent of their relationship, but neither did they act foolishly, keeping everything to their bed.

On the last stage of their journey they passed a crossroads they remembered from their pursuit of the ducal agent moths earlier. On that occasion they had tracked their quarry northward before loosing the resourceful woman's trail in the unmapped valleys of the Sonlea Mountains. Now, however, they turned south into a more settled region. Entering the somewhat prosperous village of Basset Run on the edge of the Baron's vast lands, they actually had a choice of inns, eventually selecting the Great Swan over the Giggling Basset.

As they prepared to head to the Portal the next morning the innkeeper could provide them with little information about Lord Vergne, only to say that the family had once dominated the region but it had been nearly a generation since any member of the family had been seen in the area. So it was with little information that the two rode the short distance to the Portal site. They wore their formal uniforms, with short swords sheathed at their sides and various smaller blades secreted in their bodies. Delia carried one blade more than Petra. They alternated such a duty, a superstition carried over from their service in the southlands.

Upon reaching the specified location the women saw a small stone building, partially overgrown with vines and weeds, sitting at the edge of an abandoned field gradually being reclaimed by the forest. Barely visible on the structure's stone door was the ancient symbol signifying this was a Portal site. As they tethered their horses to a nearby sapling Delia could not hide her discomfort.

"Don't worry, love. We've both used Portals before without any harm. We'll be in and out before you know it and be back to our debate in no time."

"Just because Portals have worked before doesn't mean they'll always work!" Delia snorted. "It's just not right, being in one place and suddenly your body parts are sent the gods know how to some distant site. How can anyone be sure whatever runs these things know how to put us back together again? And if magic were so great, why don't wizards and witches rule us? You know nothing can keep me from going with you, but I'd be much happier if I never had to use Portals again."

"Delia, your logic, as always, is fascinating. Now come on and lets get this over with." With that the two women, Delia bearing the chest and Petra the letter, stepped onto a small stone circle in front of the door, marked with the same symbol. In a loud, clear voice, Petra announced "I am Captain Petra Olgasdottir. My companion, Captain Delia Berea, and I come on behalf of our lord Baron. We bear gifts and a message for Lord Vergne, and request an audience with his lordship."

She felt foolish standing there speaking to the door, and even more so when nearly thirty minutes passed with no sign of a response. Petra was about to suggest they try again when with a grinding sound the stone door slid open. From the building came an old man in official looking robes and two boys carrying small torches. The man stopped just outside the doorway and offered a formal bow which the women returned.

"Joyous greetings to you, captains, and may the blessings of the season be upon you. I am Castellan to Lord Vergne, and my master has asked me to escort you to him. On his behalf I apologize for the delay in answering you. Rest assured no insult to you or your Baron was intended. It is just been so long since we have used this Portal we had to make sure it functioned properly. I you follow me, Demar will remain to stand watch over your horses."

As Petra stepped forward to respond she could not hide her smile at Delia's discomfort. For a woman who had proven her courage many times over in battle, her lover still retained what Petra saw as childish fears. "No insult was taken, Castellan. We are at your disposal for the journey."

Preceded by the remaining boy, who now carried both torches, Delia and Petra accompanied the Castellan into the building. After the stone door closed behind them they could barely make out the Portal itself on the far wall. Standing before it, they both tensed, one more than the other, as the Castellan invoked the activation spell. Despite the run-down nature of the Portal building, and Delia's fears, the Portal functioned as intended. One minute they were in the small building, the next they were in a large, well-lit room with various tapestries hanging from the walls.

"Welcome to my Lord's keep. If you would follow me, I shall take you to his library, where he waits to receive you."

As the Castellan led them down a passage, Petra and Delia took note of their surroundings. While they did not expect any difficulty, years of habit led them to view any unfamiliar territory as a possible threat and they did not want to be caught unawares.

Outside the Portal room stood a pair of guards. While their armor gleamed with evidence of frequent polishing, the men themselves were unimpressive and out of shape. Petra figured them for ceremonial troops, perhaps scions of traditional servant families given sinecures, and thought them of little consequence.

The passage itself was lined with various tapestries and Solstice decorations, including wreaths of holly and ribbons in the Feast-day's traditional red and green. At the end of the passage stood a set of large wooden doors. Stationed here were two more guards, but of a different sort than those at the Portal chamber. These also had shiny armor, but the men inside the armor appeared alert and in top shape, leading Petra to class them as fellow professionals. The Castellan stopped before the guards and, with an apologetic tone, spoke to the two captains.

"I am afraid that I shall have to request that you leave your weapons here. His lordship is very particular about his personal safety, and the punishment for going armed in his presence can be quite, severe, shall we say."

Petra exchanged a look with Delia. Such a request, while of some concern, was not unexpected. The Baron usually followed a similar policy himself, especially with unfamiliar visitors. Thus it was with only slight hesitation that they unbuckled their swords and handed them to one of the guards, Delia having placed the chest on a small stand beside the door. Before she could reclaim the chest the Castellan cleared his throat and said with a thin smile, "Come now captains. I have dealt with professionals before. All of your weapons, if you please."

Again, this caution was not unexpected. It was with just a slightly greater degree of hesitation that each woman revealed four additional blades and handed them over to the guards. The Castellan seemed to be satisfied and allowed Delia to reclaim her burden. She and Petra shared a brief look; Delia's extra blade went undiscovered, so the pair would have some protection in the unlikely event something unexpected occurred.

Lord Vergne's library proved to be a surprisingly long room lined with bookshelves, chairs, and reading tables along both walls. At the far end stood a roaring fireplace with two large, cushioned chairs set close together before it.

Petra and Delia took this all in, but their attention focused on the four occupants of the room. The only man, obviously Lord Vergne, proved to be of middle age. Bald, his stance implied confidence in himself and awareness of his noble status. This later attribute was also signified in his attire, formal court dress with just the right amount of jewelry.

Along with the lord were three scantily dressed young women, one an athletic blonde, another a voluptuous brunette, the third a busty redhead. The first two women stood just behind and to either side of the lord, while the third was off to the side and held a pewter pitcher in her hands. Each wore a green string-top which barely covered her aureole and a red bikini bottom. They also wore an array of jewelry which added to their appearance while also showing off their lord's wealth.

However, the most striking thing about these women were their faces. Each looked solely upon the lord, and Petra, who had classified them as concubines, could only describe their gaze as worshipful. Their wide smiles were topped by milky-white eyes, thought hey apparently could see without difficulty. Petra heard Delia muttering under her breath during the time it took to traverse the room, but all she could make out was "magic, bah!" and "holiday decorations that walk," both said with scorn. Petra agreed, and took an immediate dislike to this lord, who so openly flaunted whatever hold he had over these women. Perhaps this was a situation requiring further examination in the future. For now, she just wished for a quick end to the meeting.

As the Castellan formally introduced her, Petra glanced again at the tall redhead. The woman seemed familiar somehow, and Petra realized she somewhat fit the description of the ducal agent who had caused so much trouble earlier in the year. However, that woman had been intelligent and resourceful, not a fawning courtesan, and would never have allowed herself to become involved in a scene like the one Petra now observed. The captain passed the resemblance off as coincidental and returned her attention to Lord Vergne, as the introductions had been completed.

"Milord, we come on behalf of our Lord Baron bearing Solstice gifts and a message. The Baron requests that we wait upon your reply to his correspondence."

Lord Vergne acknowledged this, saying "Please relay my thanks to your Baron for his kindness. Of course, I accept his gift in the spirit in which it is offered." Even before he spoke, the two women at his side had stepped forward, stopping before Petra and Delia. "Please allow Rita and Zoe to take your burdens from you."

The blonde took the chest from Delia and, opening it, turned to show its contents to her lord. After his cursory glance, she placed it on one of the nearby reading tables. Meanwhile, the brunette took the letter from Petra and presented it to the nobleman, after which she and the blonde resumed their former positions. Petra could not help but notice the sensuous manner in which they moved. It was clear they were displaying themselves for their lord and were proud and happy to do so.

At Lord Vergne's request Petra and Delia seated themselves in the cushioned chairs while he opened and read the Baron's letter. While doing so he paced in front of the fire, Rita and Zoe taking up positions beside the fireplace. At one point he grabbed a goblet from the mantle and, turning, held it out just as the redhead appeared at his side and filled it from her pitcher, ceasing pouring an instant before he raised it to his lips. Without spilling a drop, she silently and gracefully made her way back to the side of the room. Again, Petra disliked this open display of the lord's dominance, which reminded her somewhat of the Baron's egotistical behavior. Even more insulting was that he failed to offer his guests a drink, a serious breach of protocol. Nonetheless, she and Delia held their tongues, determined to return the lord's rudeness with diplomatic politeness.

When the lord finished the letter he laughed humorlessly. "I am impressed by your Baron's sources of information. He knows things about me I did not think were common knowledge, at least not anymore. I would very much like to know where he acquired this information. A man with information is a man with power, and a man with power can be either a valuable friend or a dangerous enemy."

Placing his goblet back on the mantle, he paused in thought, again glancing over the letter. He again spoke as he stepped in front of the seated captains. "Nonetheless, it amuses me to undertake the favor he requests and accept in payment the additional gift he mentions."

As she had ever since being informed of her mission, Petra wondered what this task and gift entailed. She just hoped it was not something that would unnecessarily extend her stay here. She felt somewhat uncomfortable, what with the lord seeming to loom over her as he stood before her chair, his three concubines, moving to stand behind him. Refusing to show her discomfort, she raised her head to meet his gaze. She found her eyes drifting to the gem in his tiara. The stone seemed to be pulsing . . .

Petra blinked. She felt dizzy and disoriented, as if she were staring down from a precipice into a bottomless pit. She glanced briefly back at the lord's now smiling face, noting the smile did not reach his eyes, then looked over at Delia. Her lover, sensing something was wrong, leaned forward in her seat, tensed and ready to rise and draw her blade if need be. However, Petra was already feeling better, though she felt a sense of loss, as if something was missing, but she could not figure out what. She gave a nearly imperceptible shake of her head and Delia relaxed even as Lord Vergne turned to face her.

Delia met his gaze with confidence, waiting for him to explain himself. Still recovering in her own seat, Petra heard Delia moan; a sound she'd only heard when the two shared each other's bed. Looking up sharply, she saw Delia's eyes glaze over and turn milky white, just like the concubines, even as a look of pure bliss came across Delia's dark-skinned face. Realizing something terribly wrong had occurred, Petra made to rise, only to find the blonde and redhead had positioned themselves at her side and were holding her in her seat by her shoulders.

As Petra looked on in horror Delia slid out of her seat and prostrated herself before Lord Vergne. She then rose to a kneeling position and made as if to undo the lord's leggings, with the obvious intention of taking his member in her mouth. This was too much for Petra. Screaming, "Leave her alone, you bastard!" she forced her way up out of her seat and took a step towards Lord Vergne.

Faster than Petra could have imagined the two women at her side roughly grabbed her arms and pulled her back, while the brunette moved to place herself between Petra and Lord Vergne.

However, what really stopped Petra in her tracks was Delia. Her lover immediately sprang to her feet and, drawing her blade, stepped in front of the lord, weapon ready for use. The look of pure hatred Delia directed at Petra shocked the blonde captain. Losing her will to fight she slumped back and allowed herself to be pushed down into her chair. Looking with despair at Delia, who had relaxed her stance, Petra pleaded "Delia, lover, it's me. Fight him, Delia. Fight him. I know you can do it, Delia. We can reverse whatever he did, but it's up to you."

Lord Vergne laughed, a genuine laugh this time. "But she has no desire to fight me, silly woman. Tell her, my pet. Tell her who and what you now are."

Delia's face now beamed with joy, as if being addressed by Lord Vergne was a special honor. With evident pride she drew herself up and declared "I am Delia Vergnesthrall, Handmaiden to my Lord. I live only to serve and please Him, and only Him, in all things for as long as I live. You mean nothing to me, bitch, and live only at my Lord's sufferance."

As Delia finished speaking Lord Vergne ran his fingers through her close-cropped hair and she purred in pleasure before joining the brunette behind him.

"But, . . . but why? Why her? What did Delia ever do to you to deserve this?" was all Petra could think to ask.

"You mean you haven't figured it out. You are a foolish woman. She is the payment your Baron offered in exchange for my favor. And before you ask, my dear, you are that favor. It is all here in his letter."

Skimming over the letter, Lord Vergne read snippets aloud for Petra.

"Dear noble sir, . . . service rendered . . . deep gratitude . . . stopping ducal agent," at this the redhead blushed. "Accept humble gift . . . one small request . . . letter-bearers failed me . . . must pay for this . . . Please condition one as per my request . . . accept the other as payment . . . etcetera, etcetera . . .humble servant . . . Baron." "Humph! So full of himself he only signs his title and not his name."

Petra sat back in shock. She should have seen it coming. Not this exactly, but something had to be behind her and Delia being assigned this mission. The signs had been there but she had missed or ignored them. Thinking of Delia, Petra realized the woman had disappeared while Lord Vergne read from the letter. Now she and the brunette reappeared at the lord's side. In her absence Delia had been stripped of her uniform and was now clothed in what Petra took to be her new uniform, that of concubine, or Handmaiden, to Lord Vergne, with an outfit matching the others. She offered him his refilled goblet and, after he took it, stepped back, attentive and ready to serve, an adoring look upon her face.

"And what of me? Am I to serve you as well? Is this scene intended merely to torture me?"

"No, my dear. I hope you are not insulted that I selected your companion rather than yourself. Your Baron offered me free choice, and I was tempted to make you mine. However, I rarely have a chance to take a southlander into my bed, and your friend uniqueness adds to my collection of Handmaidens." At his side, Delia stood even straighter and seemed even prouder, hearing herself being spoke of by her Lord. "Plus, she came armed into my presence, and that could not be tolerated."

"As for you, your fate is to return to your Baron. He somehow, and I would still like to know how, discovered I can affect women's minds even if I do not take them into my service, and this is what I have done to you. At his request, you now have an unbearable longing for his presence. You will not feel truly safe and secure until you are at his side, and you will never again feel comfortable unless you are with him. In addition, you will find that only he can grant you sexual satisfaction, and that you will have a great need for such satisfaction."

"Oh, should you try to leave him, disobey him, or harm him or yourself, you will find yourself becoming His Handmaiden, as Delia is mine. One way or the other, you will now become his most loyal follower."

Petra sobbed as she sank deeper into her seat. The sense of loss and longing she'd felt since her dizzy spell was intensifying, and if Vergne spoke true it would continue to do so until she returned to the Baron. She didn't know if it were good or bad he was a four days ride away, but had a sickening feeling she'd be galloping most of the final part of her journey.

"Now, I must ask that you leave. I desire to try out my new Handmaiden, and then she and her sisters must continue preparations for my Solstice feast. I see my Castellan returns; he shall escort you out. You understand, I am sure, that your weapons will not be returned until you have left my keep. Good day, Captain Petra."

With that Lord Vergne dismissed Petra from his attention and turned to Delia, who silently sank to her knees before him and undid his leggings, reverently exposing his manhood which she the took in her mouth. This time Petra did not interfere, allowing the Castellan to take her arm and escort her from the room. She looked back just once as she reached the doors and saw that Delia no longer fellated Lord Vergne. Now, she stood, leaning against one of the chairs, her back to the Lord. Her bottom had been pulled off and she spread her legs wide, exposing her sex to her Lord. He glanced briefly in Petra's direction, an evil smile on his face.

As Petra walked back to the Portal room she heard Delia scream out in orgasmic ecstasy. "Yes Master! Take me Master! Use me! Harder Master, harder! OH YES! YES! YES! Thank you Master! Thank you!" Only the activation of the Portal drowned out her cries.

Back in the stone building Petra was unceremoniously pushed out into the clearing, the door immediately closing behind her. She saw that her weapons had been stacked on the ground and that her mount and the packhorse remained tethered as before. Of Delia's mount there was no sign, nor was there any evidence of the boy left behind to watch the horses. The sense of longing rapidly growing within her, Petra recovered her weapons and mounted for the long journey back to the Baron. She only hoped she retained her sanity at journey's end.

That evening, Lord Vergne sat before the fire in his sleeping chamber. While a raven-haired Handmaiden prepared his bed, his newest acquisition lounged naked at his feet, reverently caressing his leg even as he rubbed her head. He generally had his pets grow their hair out, but pondered having this one keep it short. However, his true attention was on the Baron's letter. As he'd said in the library, the letter showed the Baron had access to information Vergne had thought forgotten outside his keep, and this created a dilemma.

It was possible the men could develop a mutually beneficial relationship. While rearranging his new toy's mind, Vergne found that, if nothing else, the Baron was a major player in regional affairs, and might be a useful ally. Perhaps he could help Vergne reassert control over the Basset Run region and its troublesome commoners. Another source of Handmaidens would be nice; the valley presented limited options.

On the other hand, the Baron might use his knowledge against Vergne, and this could not be allowed. Thus Vergne had taken steps to cover a worst case scenario. Testing the thin mental bond he had retained with Petra, Lord Vergne smiled as he realized she was riding through the night in her desire to return to the Baron. She would serve the Baron faithfully, but Vergne had the knowledge he could exert his own controls whenever necessary, and a man with knowledge was man with power. With that he sent a mental command to his Handmaidens, and they preceded him to his bed, ready for a night of continued service.