Thaumatology 11 - For Whom the Wedding Bells Toll Read online

  ‘Good afternoon, gentlemen,’ Ophelia said, which just resulted in them looking at each other and wondering whether she was insane. ‘It’s such a lovely day, that I thought I might come up to the mountains, stretch my legs, maybe meet some fine young men such as yourselves and have a chat…’

  The nearest of the trolls, who happened to be their leader when the others agreed they needed a leader, got to his feet and turned to look at Ophelia properly. He opened his mouth to say something, but the Sidhe was not going to be interrupted.

  ‘Frankly, I’m a bit lost. I’m not used to being out in the country, let alone up in these mountains. It’s cold, and hard on the feet, and full of dangerous animals, and a poor girl like me should have a few strong men to guard her, but I’m all alone.’

  Settling herself into position in the bushes opposite Ophelia, Ceri wondered what on Earth the woman was doing. Did she really think trolls would fall for the “little lost girl” act? Mind you, they had not grabbed her and started pulling her limbs off. Yet.

  Ophelia lowered her arms, crossing her wrists behind her back and leaning forward slightly. ‘Perhaps it wasn’t such a good idea, coming out here alone, but I’m a wanted woman, you see. A fugitive. The other fae really don’t like me. So I came out here in search of a place to hide. Maybe I’ll meet some big… strong… men, who would protect me from the dangerous things out here. Big… strong… men, who wouldn’t want to hurt me like the other fae want to do.’

  There was no sense of magic. Whatever Ophelia was doing there was no spell involved, but she was definitely doing something.

  ‘You all look like big… strong… safe… protective… men who would never harm a poor lost soul like me. You wouldn’t hurt harmless little me, would you?’ Almost as though they were drugged, the six trolls slowly shook their heads. ‘Could I come and sit with you? Then I’d be safe.’ Six heads nodded slowly and the leader sat back down on his rock. Ophelia started toward him. ‘Nice and safe. I feel so safe with all you big, strong trolls.’ She sat down on one of the leader’s thighs and smiled sweetly at him. ‘Don’t let me stop you eating. I’ll just sit here, all safe, and maybe some of my friends might turn up, and then we’ll all be safe together.’

  Ceri shook her head, a disbelieving smile on her face, and waited for the next part of Ophelia’s plan. Over the course of about twenty minutes, as the Sidhe diplomat spoke calmly and reassuringly to the trolls, the rest of the party walked into the clearing and sat down. Ceri was waiting for the creatures to twig that they had been lied to, that Ophelia was not alone and lost, but they just sat there, rumbled a greeting as the others arrived, and went back to crunching deer bones.

  By the time Ceri walked in, two of the trolls had a fairy sitting on their broad shoulders, Lily was perched on another troll’s thigh, and a furry Michael was sprawled on the grass.

  ‘And here’s Ceri!’ Ophelia said, her voice suggesting a delightful surprise. ‘Everyone’s here. Isn’t that great? Now we’re really safe. No one can hurt us now. Especially not those nasty Discord people.’

  The lead troll rumbled deep in his chest. ‘Wut you know’uh Duscord?’ The accent was so thick Ceri had trouble deciphering it, but Ophelia seemed fairly clear on what he had said.

  ‘They sent trolls to attack me. And an assassin.’

  ‘Duscord hold best huntin’ land. Kill trolls wut don’t join ‘em.’

  Ceri picked a troll to sit on, settling herself on his right thigh and giving him a nice smile. They had accepted them. It was crazy, but it was working.

  ‘Trolls wit wild Sidhe. Sidhe make big prumises. Me no believe dem.’

  ‘Quite right too,’ Ophelia said. ‘They’re not safe like we are. And it’s so wrong that those nasty people are keeping you from your hunting grounds. If we knew where they were, we could surely do something about them.’

  ‘Dey strong. Liddle girl like you be hurt.’ The rumbling voice actually sounded concerned.

  ‘Oh yes,’ Ophelia agreed. ‘But my friends here would be able to hurt them. Michael is a werewolf, and Lily is half demon, and Ceri is a powerful sorceress.’

  The big troll sniffed. ‘Smell the power. Smell the human on ‘er too. She be careful. Discord Boss, he be fond o’ human girls. Dat wut they say.’

  Ceri’s eyes narrowed. She caught Ophelia’s eyes as the Sidhe looked her way, frowning slightly. Oberon had said that the Discord ideogram had first cropped up in Ireland. So their leader had started there and developed a taste for human women. From the way the troll was speaking, it did not sound like he treated them well.

  ‘Oh, we won’t let anything happen to Ceri,’ Ophelia said confidently. ‘Where would we find those evil Discord people?’

  ‘Dey’s two day’s walk t’du sunset. Dey hold lands udder side o’ Sreng’s Grave.’

  Ophelia looked across at Ceri again. ‘It’s a monolith on the western edge of the High Glenn.’ She smiled up at her troll-seat. ‘Thank you very much. You’ve been very helpful. May your hunting be most bountiful.’

  The troll rumbled pleasantly. ‘Tink you huntin’ be harder, liddle Sidhe.’

  Ceri suspected he was probably right.

  ~~~

  ‘What did you do to them?’ Lily asked as they walked away from the trolls, heading west.

  Ophelia shrugged. ‘Talked to them. It’s a trick I learned from one of the old Sidhe in the Silvershields. If you keep talking and use the right tone, and a little careful voice modulation… I’m sorry to say it worked really well on them because trolls haven’t enough brain power to light a one watt bulb, but hey, it was useful.’

  Lily giggled. ‘Yes, very useful. So what are the lands like to the west of this Glenn?’

  ‘No idea.’

  ‘Never been there?’

  ‘No, but hardly anyone else has in the last four hundred years. Before that most people never went west of the Glenn. It’s more or less unknown territory. You know those old maps with the “here be dragons” bit on them? Well, the western pass from the High Glenn leads to that bit on our map.’

  ‘Dragons?’ Ceri asked, looking back and grinning.

  ‘Perhaps not the best analogy,’ Ophelia grinned back. ‘Mind you… Could a dragon have survived if they were here instead of on Earth?’

  ‘Honestly? I haven’t the vaguest idea. Molech claimed that the collapse of the bridge between their world and Earth would have hastened the end of their universe, and it certainly killed the dragons on Earth, but I’ve no idea what the physics were.’

  ‘So there could be dragons out there?’

  ‘If I had to guess, no. If they were interested in this place you’d probably have known about it by now. Otherworld seems like a great place for them, and they could have made a play for it any time in the last several thousand years. Maybe there’s something about this place that makes it hard on them.’ Ceri gave a shrug. ‘Magic, it’s kind of mysterious, y’know?’

  ‘Says the girl who spends all her time trying to explain it.’ Twill commented.

  ‘Doesn’t mean I ever will. Have you noticed the birds?’

  ‘The crows?’ Michael asked. ‘I’d noticed them, but they’re just crows.’

  Above them, dark birds circled and wheeled in the air currents above the mountains. There seemed to be more of them now, as though they were gathering to watch the party.

  ‘War birds,’ Ophelia commented.

  ‘Huh?’ Ceri replied.

  ‘Crows are the birds of the Morrigna, the three Goddesses of War. I’m not sure so many of them would be considered a good omen.’

  Ceri frowned, a half-remembered dream surfacing in her mind. War is coming… ‘Ever heard the name “Ciocal”?’

  ‘The first recorded leader of the Formori bore that name. It’s not particularly popular, but a few Unseelie name their children for him. Why?’

  Ceri shook her head. ‘Just something I remember from a dream.’ She looked up again, following the path of one of the larger birds as it turned and swe
pt west ahead of them. War is coming…

  ~~~

  Ceri and Michael went hunting in the late afternoon. She was not quite so adept at it in skin, but they had Michael’s nose and her magic, and they were soon on the trail of a small herd of deer. Ceri, a thoroughly civilised girl who happened to run with a werewolf pack, was not really keen on hunting down such beautiful creatures, but it seemed kind of fair in a way. It was natural talent versus natural talent, even if Ceri’s natural talent was for sorcery.

  Spotting a lone deer nibbling at some grass away from the rest, they crept forward, keeping upwind until they were close enough. Then Ceri insisted on putting the animal to sleep before Michael moved forward and broke its neck. Quick, humane, and Ceri did not feel quite so bad about it knowing their prey had felt nothing. Michael was about to hoist the doe onto his shoulders to take back when they saw the stag. Ceri’s breath caught in her throat.

  He was big, powerful, with a huge head of antlers bearing around twenty points, and white fur which almost glowed in the gathering twilight. He watched them with his black eyes, muscles tensed and head held high, and Ceri felt that some gesture was needed. Stepping forward slowly, she bowed to him. As her head lifted, he pushed one foreleg forward and returned the bow.

  ‘Okay, Michael,’ she whispered. ‘Pick her up.’

  The werewolf did so almost reverently, draping the doe over his shoulders and giving a nod to the stag before turning to leave. Ceri watched the white stag for a second longer, and then turned to follow.

  ~~~

  ‘A White Hart?!’ Ishifa squeaked. ‘A real one? And he bowed to you?’

  ‘What’s so special about a white deer?’ Ophelia asked, watching Twill and Michael as they worked on the dead deer with a hint of disgust on her face.

  ‘There are maybe a dozen of them at any one time,’ Twill explained. ‘They are among the kings of fae beasts. To see one is rare, to have one show respect is even rarer.’

  ‘Supposedly,’ Ceri said, ‘the Wild Hunt chases one on Samhain on Earth. Not that I’ve ever seen that.’

  ‘Thanks be to whichever gods you believe in,’ Lily put in.

  Ceri nodded. ‘The Wild Hunt is supposed to be something to be avoided. The Hart was… well, he was beautiful.’

  ‘He recognised that we were hunting for food, not sport,’ Michael said. ‘That’s why he let us go with his doe.’

  ‘That,’ Twill said, ‘and they live in a sort of respectful predator-prey relationship with another of the fae creatures, the great Black Wolves who live up here in the mountains. He may have recognised the black wolf in Ceri, and your own parentage, Michael.’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ Ophelia said, frowning. ‘Ceri’s not a werewolf, and Michael’s grey.’

  ‘Michael’s grey,’ Ceri replied, ‘because he’s the son of a black-fur and a human.’

  ‘And Ceri becomes a black-fur,’ Michael continued, ‘by the grace of the Goddess, when she runs with my pack.’

  ‘Kind of a long story,’ Ceri said, grinning at Ophelia’s confused expression, ‘concerning demon-werewolves, embodied goddesses, and Stonehenge. I’m surprised you didn’t know about it.’

  ‘Hey, we steer clear of the werewolves. They don’t bother us, we don’t bother them.’

  ‘A good policy,’ Michael said, calmly stripping the hide from one of the doe’s legs.

  ‘I always thought so,’ Ophelia agreed. ‘And now I’m going to go over to those bushes and throw up.’

  ~~~

  Ceri had not had Michael inside her while outdoors in months. The thrill of it was not quite the same here, they were very unlikely to be caught at it, but then again Ophelia, Twill, and Ishifa were not far away and that gave a hint of naughtiness to what they were doing.

  Lily, the reason they were doing it now at all, was a lot closer. Her hands slid over them as they made love, adding to the sensations they were both feeling as she synchronised herself with Michael’s body. He was on top, his hips banging against Ceri’s behind with each thrust. It was strange, but Ceri found sex outdoors was better like this. More animal, more basic, more…

  She felt her orgasm starting even as she felt Michael’s tension near its climax. She knew what was coming and lowered her face into the sweet-smelling grass, gritting her teeth to stay silent as the rush of exhilaration washed over her. Michael did not stop, did not come; Lily was feeding on him and he would keep going, keep pounding into Ceri, until she gave him release.

  Panting as her orgasm ebbed, Ceri arched her back a little to increase the angle of penetration. A second climax was just around the corner; she knew she could not have held it back if she had wanted to. Her body had grown used to this exquisite torture, had wanted it more than she realised. Her head tilted back as her climax began… And then she felt Lily’s hand cup her mound and the slight tug as the succubus pulled energy from her Tantric Median, and Ceri was coming forever…

  ~~~

  ‘That’s a new trick,’ Ceri commented as they walked back into the clearing where the others were waiting.

  ‘I wanted to know if I could feed on two people at once.’ Lily’s reply had a giggle in it.

  ‘It was incredible.’

  ‘Goddess yes!’ Michael growled. ‘You clamped down on me like a vice and I still couldn’t stop. You can do that again.’

  ‘You know,’ Ophelia said from the other side of the fire, ‘going off and fornicating while we sit around listening is bad enough. Coming back talking about how utterly incredible it was is cruel and unusual.’

  Giggling, Lily bounced around the fire and sat down beside the Sidhe. ‘Aww, is the poor liddle fae feeling randy?’ She wrapped an arm around Ophelia’s shoulders and hugged her closer.

  ‘You stop that,’ Ophelia replied. ‘Yes I am and you sitting there naked and hugging me is not helping.’ Her protestations turned into a little whimper as Lily’s hand cupped her breast through her shirt.

  Ceri saw the sparks of red in Lily’s pupils. Sitting down beside the fire, she spoke softly. ‘Lil, that’s enough.’ The little fire was warm against bare skin; Ceri felt good and there was no rancour in her command. She was just pulling her pet’s reins in.

  The light in Lily’s eyes went out, but she gave Ceri a playful pout. ‘Yes, Mistress. Sorry, Ophelia.’

  That’s okay.’ The reply came out as a pant and the Sidhe waited a second until her breathing steadied before adding, ‘If you’re going to keep doing that, I’m going to ask to borrow Lily at some point.’

  ‘Granted, but not now. She’s too hyper. We don’t want any accidents when she’s doing so well.’

  Lily seemed to have sobered very quickly. ‘No. My soul’s stained enough after what Barnes did to me.’

  Ceri nodded sadly. ‘I don’t want to know what mine looks like. How many people died when I opened the bridge for the dragons?’

  ‘That wasn’t you fault,’ Lily replied, perhaps a little more harshly than she intended.

  ‘I still feel the guilt for it.’ She let out a sigh. ‘That’s the way I am and I’ll probably keep doing dumb things like this until I think I’ve made up for it. I’ll stand first watch. I don’t feel like sleeping too soon.’

  ‘We have a long walk ahead of us,’ Twill said. ‘Well, you have. We’ll be sitting on Michael’s shoulders, but that’s surprisingly tiring. I think we should all get some rest.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Ophelia muttered, ‘after what Lil did to me I’m not going to sleep. I’ll sit up with Ceri for a while.’

  ~~~

  ‘The Morrigna,’ Ceri said, her voice hushed, ‘is that like the Morrigan?’

  ‘Morrigan is kind of one of the three, and all three at the same time.’ Ophelia took a few of the small branches they had found and placed them on the fire, her eyes on the flames. ‘Religion was never my strong point. It’s a metaphysical trinity thing. The names of the three vary with the story. Badb, Macha, and Nemain, sometimes Nemain is replaced by Anann, but Anann is also Morrigan.’
/>   ‘And they are the goddesses of war.’

  ‘Basically. Each represents different aspects. But Morrigan is also to do with sovereignty. Like I said, religion isn’t one of my strong points. But if a king has Morrigan on his side, he can be assured of victory in any battle.’

  We can help… or hinder… Ceri shook her head. ‘You should get some rest. You’re looking tired.’

  Ophelia nodded. ‘Not used to the fresh air and exercise.’ She stood enough to carry her the few feet to her bedroll and settled down, pulling the blanket over her legs. ‘You know, Lily’s great in bed, but I’d happily go with you.’ Ceri blinked at her, the statement taking her by surprise. ‘There’s something about you,’ the Sidhe went on. ‘Like a… glow. It’s intoxicating. I doubt there’s a fae alive that wouldn’t want you.’ Giving a quick smile, as though embarrassed, she settled down and pulled her blanket up.

  Titania had said something similar, and Lily had once said that her power was attractive to other supernaturals. Ceri gave a shrug and put it out of her mind. It was not important right now.

  February 7th

  It was colder and there were flecks of snow on the wind. They had climbed perhaps a thousand feet and there were fewer valleys in which to take shelter if the weather got bad, but they kept on going.

  ‘By evening,’ Ophelia said as they crested one rise in the path only to see another, higher, rise beyond, ‘we should be past this and starting down a little. But it isn’t called the High Glenn for nothing.’

  ‘And they hold battles there?’ Lily asked, her tone suggesting it was insane.

  ‘It’s essentially a very wide pass through the mountains. It’s been the traditional battleground between Seelie and Unseelie armies for millennia.’

  ‘Since before they were called Seelie and Unseelie,’ Twill agreed.

  They kept climbing, and the weather kept getting worse as they went. At first it was just the temperature dropping, and the flecks of snow becoming flakes of snow. But as the sun began to head down toward the horizon from its peak, the wind began to rise in force and soon the snow was stinging their cheeks and the visibility was falling.