Soul fire sale, chapter 3. (Patreon)

Here we are. Please enjoy.

What? Where was I? The ceiling was oddly shaped, with points. It should be a uniform square with slightly off-color tiles.

Ah, right. I wasn't at home; I was in a tent. In a tent that wasn't mine, in a body that wasn't mine, and a world that wasn't mine. Fighting a fight that wasn't mine supported by and in behalf of powers I didn't know.

Yeah, that about summed it up. At least I was younger? I mean that and the magic had to be a silver lining, who didn't want to use magic? I really wanted to use magic. The problem is there was at least one killjoy in my midst, who thought he needed to order me not to.

It was morning, wasn't it? I wonder what was for breakfast? Dinner didn't thrill me, but I was optimistic; breakfast could be different.

Hoof beats, that was what had woke me up. Faint for now, but getting closer fast - horses at a gallop. I was still forced to stay in the tent, which was going to get messy if the trend continued much longer, but for now I could still open the door and look out.

I untied the flap and pulled it aside, and the morning light promptly jabbed my eyes.

It took a bit to blink that away and notice the guard who was studiously ignoring me, looking straight ahead as if his life depended on it.

Beyond him, at the road, back the way we came, there was a rather large dust cloud forming towards us. The dull roar was less dull now, and more of a rumbling staccato than before. Were my ears better than before? It was hard to judge these things.

I heard the exclamation "Damn!" as the horses came into view past the haze, every one holding a mounted person and every one galloping flat out as if heading to a fire or something like it.

I wanted to ask just where that fire was, but they were moving so fast they were already passing next to us. If they'd had hostile intentions, we'd likely be dead already.

There, in the middle of the pack... that greasy old fat slaver king, and around him were people I recognized as being next to me yesterday, facing the same fate. These people had a change of clothes though, and weapons strapped to them.

A few of them met my eyes as they flashed past; they looked proud, haughty. Sitting upright and smiling as they galloped away, the poor fools. One or two, though, had the realization of what they were in for displayed on their faces. Just a hint of it, anyway.

I envied them the clothes, but nothing else.

A few of the knights galloping past slowed up, and talked a bit of trash: "What is all this trash doing by the side of the road?"

"What are you doing here? You left first. Could your horses not carry you any farther?"

Dumb, sophomoric shit like that. As bad as it was, it had some of 'our' knights fuming.

Oliver had his head stuck out of his tent, looking my way. I leaned over as well and gave him a wave, and he rolled his eyes as dramatically as possible. About what I felt to; this was some weak stuff.

One of 'our' knights strayed a bit too close and almost got rode down; these people did not give a damn about each other.

'Our' would be slaver emerged from his tent between the two of us, in full armor and weaponry. I had to admit, here he looked the part of a king, in full mail and with a crown atop his helmet, with no less than four weapons readily visible on his person.

I ducked back when he looked my way, which was a little silly, but instinct was instinct.

"You both, come out of your tents, and follow me."

I felt the pressure, so I did as he commanded, even though I was certain the magic was less strong than it had been yesterday.

Oliver joined me, and we flanked the man as he moved up.

This was a considerable procession; they were still going by. I could see the end from here at least.

The would-be slaver king just stared the rest of the other soldiers down until the parade ended, with us standing there behind him. More than a few of the horsemen stared at us, going past, but no further trouble erupted, and no more insults were shouted.

I couldn't resist as the last of them went by and the dust started to settle; now that I could breathe again, it was time to poke a bit: "Those people don't seem to have any respect for you at all, your Majesty."

The answer was immediate: "We are a small kingdom, Isobel. Small and poor."

Yeah, he was worried. The fat one might well take care of my problem for me... except if he did, what would happen to Oliver and I then? Would we be traded like those cards from my world? Killed? Would we have to fight if this man's small kingdom was invaded and kill people?

I really didn't want to kill people. Hell, I didn't want to kill anything except the random tasty animal, but my gut was telling me I wasn't going to have a choice, no matter what happened. Even so, I could try and mitigate the damage.

Should I ask? "How long do you think you have?"

Again, the answer was immediate; a credit to the man wearing the gaudy crown. "Perhaps five years. This current summoning has delayed things somewhat."

"I see. I need to go."

That got him to turn away from the disappearing dust trail. "Go where?"

What was that old phrase? Would it work? "I need to go pick flowers."

He gave me a look, clearly baffled - then the light dawned. "Ah, of course. Do not stray too far, and return immediately after you have finished."

I felt the pull, but it really was less than before. Barely a suggestion really, despite how it was worded.

I walked away, away from the road, but not before I heard the would be slaver king turn to Oliver: "You should go too. Go now, and return as soon as you have finished."

Oliver was a bit more enthusiastic. "Don't have to tell me twice."

Yep, he was definitely following me. Not that I blamed him, the trees in back were a more attractive prospect than going across the road and risking some crazy horseman running you over.

I was going to find a likely bush that wasn't poisonous to the touch and park myself in it. With all the magic I had access to, there were no cleaning spells of any kind, and I hadn't seen any toilet paper... which meant I was likely to have a slightly bad time. I didn't know all that much about what I had to do, but I knew wiping was a thing, and not wiping was probably the equivalent of putting yourself back in your boxers without shaking it as a guy.

Without anything else to use, I was going to try leaves, and I wasn't looking forward to the experience.

Oliver was still following me. "You should probably go another direction now." We were past the tents, and the trees and their brother bushes were just a few steps away.

"I'm scared. What if a monster attacks? I need you there to protect me."

Jackass. He was just pissing with me now... ack, shouldn't have thought about pissing. "You can protect yourself."

"No can do," he countered. "I'm a weak and feeble spell-caster, I can't do anything     sweaty."

"Better learn then."

"Fine, fine. I'll use this tree here. Don't you dare look."

I hadn't even looked at him once since I started this walk. "You don't have to worry."

At least my skills were perfect for this... there! A bush that would fully cover me, with handy dandy leaves large enough to use, and not a single poison, low or high grade, anywhere in sight. Alchemy, botany, and nature knowledge for the win.

I ducked inside and squatted, almost tearing the flimsy underwear off in my haste. Thankfully, they stretched enough. Since if I did rip them, my ass would be hanging out with only a short skirt left to protect anything.

The leaves were cold, a little bumpy, and crumbly. Not a ten out of ten experience, by any means.

"You're taking a while!" Oliver shouted.

I moved a branch aside and peered out, to find an odd sight; Oliver was done and walking away from me, but he was doing so slowly, taking small steps and almost appearing to have one of those diseases that slowed a person down.

"Clearly, I had more than you. I'm coming." He was trying, at least. I'd meet him halfway.

I finished cleaning up and got up. My skirt was on straight and covering everything; underpants were on and properly set. All was well. A quick jog and I'd caught up.

"You wash your hands?"

Oliver looked at me, still walking slowly, then made a point of panning his head around in a search for a stream that didn't seem to exist here.

"Right, right. Can you hold still for a minute?"

"I can't," he sighed out in clear frustration. "This is the best I can do."

Right, his tattoo was working. Mine looked a little faded. Just a little, not enough to be noticeable... I hoped.

"Okay, hold your hands out."

Oliver did immediately, trusting me implicitly. I conjured some water above his hands; a better wash than nothing. I did the same for myself.

Both uses of the spell barely ticked my mana bar. I had felt resistance to casting the spells, an urge not to, a compulsion even. It was not easy to ignore it - but it wasn't difficult either.

Oliver's eyes were large and wild, but his voice was steady. "Thanks."

I gave him a wink. "You're welcome."

That's right, Oliver. Play your cards right, and I'll see what I can do to free you. To free us both.

The knights around us? didn't notice us shaking our hands dry. The would be slaver king? Also didn't notice us shaking our hands dry - mainly because we were done by then. Even so, he wasn't really paying attention as we rejoined him.

Maybe he thought we were just messy? I could see it.

After a moment of silence he sighed and said "Alright, let's get fed and on the road. The day is wasting. Stay here."

The man just walked off and left us. The knight that had been seeing to my needs walked up with some dried meat that I really hoped was some kind of cattle and a biscuit hard enough to use as a rock. After handing me one of each, he handed the same amount to Oliver.

Oliver looked more disgusted than I felt.

The knight kept passing the things out, and those her targeted didn't even stop what they were doing, just popped the so called food into their mouths and kept breaking down the camp. Made me wonder what the hurry was.

Hm, goat? Tasted a bit like goat.

Oliver followed my example, and made a most interesting face a few bites in.

I'd take my amusements where I found them.

The biscuit wasn't wormy; I'd seen what that looked like from my history lessons. But it also wasn't even close to what I considered good, either. The only choice was to leave the thing in my mouth and let the moisture soften it up until I could chew it.

Oliver actually tried to bite his, and that was another amusing scene.

The tents came down, the soldiers leaving the wooden spikes in the ground and just cutting the lines leading to the patched tents. Someone was in a real hurry.

Our horses were led up. They looked alright, well-rested, and fed. Better than the people around us, at any rate. For a wild moment, I was tempted to just mount and ride, leaving these... people far behind. But no, for now, I still needed them. For information if nothing else. I wouldn't leave Oliver either, not unless I had to.

Within ten minutes, everyone was mounting up, and the would be slaver king was coming out of his tent as it came down around him. He walked up to his empty horse and mounted it, something suspiciously like a sausage still sticking from his mouth.

It made sense he'd get better food, but it was still a bit annoying. Class differences always were, real or imagined.

The expected order came. "Come on, mount up and stay behind me."

The soldiers didn't even bat a single eye, just moved out of the way and let us take our place. I could tell this man had done this before; the orders were so loose yet so precise. By ordering us to stay behind him he didn't have to waste a breath on telling us to move out when he did, the urge to stay behind him would take care of that and guide our rein hands.

Our pace was just above a sedate trot, with no evidence of the dust-stirring gallop the other party showed. I had a feeling about that... this was the kind of pace you set when you didn't want to meet the people ahead of you on the road and didn't want to get overtaken by whoever was behind you on that same road.

I could remember doing the same thing in the past, with crazy drivers on mountain roads on major highways... some people were just crazy.

It did lend a certain credence to the man's words. He wouldn't be this cautious about things if his own situation were better. Unless it was all a game being played on us specifically from the start, but that made no sense at all. After all, how would he know us, and how we thought?

He could be getting a sense after the fact, like I was now, but something like this would need prior setup and knowledge that I didn't see a way for him to get.

Honestly, I needed to talk to whoever set this system up, or whatever higher powers there were that existed here. They would know, and assuming neither group was still in play based on something the guy attempting to enslave us said was a rookie mistake; as the man once said: "trust, but verify".

I bet those kids were inhaling every word said at them as if they were candy. Splitting us up before we could really speak was on purpose. Really intelligent, and I'd admire it more if I were an enslaving piece of shit.

There, what was that? Something glowing up ahead, something large.

I had to squint. A large stone gate? Yeah, it had to be. The thing was set at what could only be the end of this road, and it glowed a brilliant blue. A portal gate? Teleportation gate? The glow died down slowly, and as it did, the tension bled from our escorts.

So it must have been in use, and now it wasn't. Good.

The man sped up, and of course, we followed suit. I was actually a bit slower to respond than Oliver was; hopefully no one noticed.

Of course, the dust quickly became our enemy again; the only thing I could do was hold a hand in front of my mouth and nose and block things out as best I could.

Just another thing to remember about the treatment I was receiving. That list was growing by leaps and bounds already.

Oliver wasn't really enjoying himself either, from the looks of things. The soldiers had no dust cloths or masks either, but they were being very stoic about it all. Looking for an ambush that didn't exist, from the looks of things. After all, there was nowhere to hide in the plain except the gate itself, and it couldn't hide enough men to make an attack on this group worthwhile.

Well, maybe. If it was someone like Oliver or I, or a few someones like that, the chances became good any attack would be lethal. Assuming we weren't being gaslit, of course.

Our learless feader kicked his horse ahead, which forced us to follow.  He clearly wasn't thinking about any of that, and reined up just in front of the gate, or rather the side of it, where a small stand stood raised out of the dirt with symbols that I couldn't recognize offhand. They did look vaguely familiar, however. I'd seen them before somewhere, I was sure.

The king dismounted and pulled something out from his clothes... a key. He stuck it in a slot obviously made for it, then moved some of the symbols around. Some grinding noises involved in that.

Hm, the road led directly to this gate, but then also led to the left and around it.

The king glowed blue. Then the glow spread to the gate, and with an airy woosh a darker spot expanded in the middle, growing quickly to span the gateway.

The would-be slaver raised his hand, then dropped it forward. That obvious signal sent a good number of his soldiers forward ahead of us. They broke around us like a sea, and entered the dark blue glow only to vanish.

The King waited until the last of those were through, then pulled the key and dismounted in a smooth motion that had to be practiced.

As he reoriented his horse to the gate, I asked about it: "Are we in a hurry?"

He glanced back, furrowing his brow, but answered. "We've got five minutes from the moment my key is pulled to get into the gate, or we have to take the long way home. Let's go."

He spurred in, and of course I followed, with Oliver right at my side.

The glow was... it was awful. Disorienting vertigo hit me all at once, and my nerves seemed to send me signals from both miles and inches away, all at once. There was fire and cold and warmth and light and something smelled like burning.

I was... oh. I was out of it, whatever that was, and vomiting bile and stringy nastiness all over my horse. Luckily, he didn't seem to mind, giving me a sidelong glance with some laid-back ears. A step or two but not throwing me off was a plus.

The would-be slaver was giving me a pitying look. "That happens. Most people get used to it in time."

My stomach was still twisted. So was everything else. "I hate you quite a bit right now."

Oliver hadn't even flinched either, the bastard.

A soldier came up and wiped the mess off my horse with a dirty rag; at least I hadn't gotten any of it on me.

"Come on, let's go." The king grabbed the loose reins I didn't even remember dropping and led us away from the cursed thing. I would never willingly do that again. Not ever.

The pace set was a near gallop, and my horse was keeping to it. My stomach was in actual pain, with each jarring step sending spikes through me from head to toe at regular intervals. In time, it became bearable, and I was able to focus on other things.

The landscape had changed, from plains to different plains. There were more stands of trees, and I could spell pine on the wafting breeze. There hadn't been any pine trees before. At least I don't think there had been, the predominant trees before had been maple.

There was also a sharp edge to the wind, something I recognized came from a higher altitude. How high? I'd be willing to bet we were at least at the foothills of a mountain.

I'd find out later just how high, for now we'd put a pin on that. There was some farmland here, and it was being tended to. The others paid no mind to those farmers, but just the snatches I could see gave the impression of bone-deep poverty.

Some of these farmers were tilling themselves, without any draft animals. That was... wow.

I wouldn't say it, but I was thinking it pretty hard, and the would-be king was noticing. Such a thing could only be the result of poor yields and high living expenses. On our world, that meant taxes, historically. I couldn't really see anything yet that spoke of high tax revenue since the soldiers were dressed in the bare minimum armor wise, and while the horses were okay, they weren't anything special.

The force that had passed us, even without the presence of us otherworlders, could have destroyed this guys in both numbers and weapons. This man would have had to have gotten very creative if we'd been attacked... or just ran for it.

Half the man's little army stayed behind as we advanced; the road away from a stone like the one we'd entered a clear and straight line heading North. North and up, unless I very much missed my guess; the grade was subtle, but it was there.

My reins were passed back to me, and the pace was increased; now we were at a gallop.

The road went straight through a town. We didn't stop, or even slow down; some of the soldier types even came close to riding some people down.

My legs were beginning to ache, and Oliver was clearly feeling it himself by the time the place that had to be our destination came into view. An honest to God castle on a mountain crag, complete with a now winding road that went from gradual to sharply up. The plains ended, and a true forest began on either side of us, complete with old growth trees that towered over us and enough dead wood lying on the floor to start a thousand wild fires.

The kind of place that bears loved to hang out and eat people in for the crime of daring to enter. Was it just bears here? Well, bears and demons?

I hadn't been told not to speak, but our pace meant that if I shouted the words, they'd just come back at my face; no way would our so-called leader hear me.

I'd just have to assume monsters exist and act accordingly. There were a few spells I could use if we were attacked, not the least of which would be a speed spell on the horse. You didn't have to be faster than the monster, after all - just faster than your allies.

Never did I think I'd be relying on that old joke as life advice. Life was strange sometimes.

No, that jiggling told me life was beyond strange, and it could and would change to beyond strange in an instant. I could come apart later, I had to stay focused for now. I could always just come apart later, so long as there was a later.

Oliver was really struggling. Hell, even the soldiers were beginning to flag; the king, though? Not a single sign of wavering; it was actually slightly impressive. Soon, though, the horses would start going; they weren't the best, and the pace we were setting had to be killing them.

I was also getting thirsty, and the less said about my empty stomach, the better. I wasn't weak; if I was feeling it, the people around me had to be feeling it as well.

He didn't let up; this would be king. We were still going, still climbing toward the castle at a speed that couldn't be sustained. We were racing the sun, it seemed. The sun might well be winning.

At last, the man eased up, his horse shuddering and blowing hard. I managed to rein to a halt just behind him, but Oliver went wide; with a grimace, he pulled himself back next to me. Something to know there: the pain affected him regardless of intent? Good to know if true. I'd ask later to make sure.

The soldier who'd helped us before grabbed our reins, and everyone else was also dismounting, so apparently we were stopping here, right on the road. This narrow, winding road.

One of the soldiers was moving into the tree line. No, make that four of them. Was there a...? Yes, a mark right there on that tree. A sort of X painted in moss upon it, and on the side you wouldn't expect to see moss on.

They came back with a set of large boxes between them, and wasted no time opening them to reveal buckets. Buckets and full canteens like the ones they'd shared with us. Right, so giving the horses a breather and some water.

"We'll make it," the would be slaver king muttered from beside me. I don't think he expected me to hear him over the other noise. I couldn't blame him; even this close, it was a bit amazing. My senses were so good.

I did the best I could, patting my horse down. The soldier from before came near us again, with some rags to rub the animals down.

Now that we'd stopped, I could have used one of those, or a blanket. It definitely wasn't summer here, wherever here was.

Another soldier walked up to Oliver with the same idea as my helper all but shoved me out of the way to see to my animal. To see to my animal before his own, I should say; he had one of his friends taking the reins of his own animal.

"Walking from here?" Even rubbed down and watered, even if fed, these horses wouldn't be able to hold armed men for more than a walk, and a short one at that.

"Yes, we walk. Leading the horses. Even with that, we should be fine. We are close enough to the Eyrie."

I could smell the capitalization there. "The castle?"

The would-be king shook his head. "The fort. It marks the true edge of my kingdom, and the mountain pass we will use to reach the heart of it."

I looked again; without modern weaponry... I wouldn't want to go near taking that. And with this... "Is this the only road there?"

The man smiled. "The only road from this direction, yes."

So you'd have a choice, as an enemy army; Chop through the entire forest to the fort with the home team sniping you the entire way, or try and use this small road to funnel an army in with the home team sniping you the entire way. It spoke of some truly brutal warfare on this world.

Maybe I was too American, but these people needed guns. Artillery. Something.

Maybe I shouldn't plot how to take a fortress I was heading to right this very minute? Other people might get ideas or something, and that would be annoying. I really was too American.

The king was hopping from foot to foot, clearly wanting to be off. He wasn't rubbing down his own horse, though. Neither was I, but that was more because I hadn't been offered the right tools for the job and I wasn't using my hands. Oliver was looking lost.

I was getting cold, though; the day wasn't getting any warmer, with the sun going down. Not much I could do about that unless I decided to out myself by conjuring clothes. Which surprisingly, I could do. The spell wasn't even that powerful - or at least it was listed in with my other middle tier seeming spells. I guess an average witch wouldn't have access. Probably.

The would be slaver king caught on: "Let's go. It'll be safe enough to forge ahead now, even with a small force."

"You don't fear anything that might be lurking in the woods?" I could have swallowed the question as I fell in behind him, but it was better to know.

"I do," he answered immediately. "Yet none of those dangers are worse than those that arrive on two legs, and we are beyond such for now."

Interesting.

Oliver was silent. There was a small contingent of soldiers following us, but we were in the lead... and the slaver king was setting a rather punishing pace. Especially as the incline got more steep.

Once again, we were racing the sun. From what I could tell, we had several miles to go yet, and about an hour to get there before the gloom became full dark. The sun was setting sooner than it should, according to my circadian rhythm.

This far from the majority of the soldiers and horses, I could hear the sounds of the forest. I did not recognize all of them, and that was a bit concerning. Like that crashing around to my left; was that a startled deer, or an angry bear? That twitting noise up in that tree, was that a bird or something actually dangerous?

Yeah, good old city me wasn't all that happy right now. The only good news is the outrunning strategy could still work. After all, how fast could soldiers wearing a hundred pounds of armor and carrying heavy metal weapons be?

At least walking was warming everything up.

We made it finally, huffing and puffing along, right up to the substantial drawbridge over an equally large chasm. No water in it, but with one that deep, there didn't need to be. There were probably birds nesting down there.

I wasn't afraid of heights at all, but that was a little dizzying. I stepped away from the edge as the loud noise of things grinding together signaled the drawbridge descending. Why it was up was anyone's guess; there couldn't be enemies hiding, could there? Were these people more paranoid than I was?

The crash of the drawbridge hitting the ground was muted, the mechanism bringing it down somewhat gently. It was still enough for me to feel through my feet, and the little bounce gave me an idea on how heavy all those massive timbers were, banded in iron like that. I had no idea how you'd even bring the thing down if the people wouldn't just lower it for you.

Even so, I bet there was some way; our ancestors had done it occasionally.

Right, the King was starting across. The compulsion to follow was there, but it was less than it had been this morning; it was all but certain something was wrong with my magic tattoo now, and I was willing to bet it was my class. After all, this was a curse, and my class had a resistance to that. Among other things. I even knew the one - I was positive now.

I wouldn't be using it; it felt dirty just to think about.

I matched my steps to Oliver's and the honor guard fell in around us all, faces hard and hands on weapons even here.

The wall was wide, and I was sure I spotted murder holes and concealed hiding places at a few points. I hadn't seen anyone on top of the walls, but they surely had to be there. No one greeted us until the courtyard, however.

More armed men, and in front of those, a guy dressed in very ornate looking plate mail. He was carrying his helmet under an arm, and he had a rugged but young looking face framed by salt and pepper hair than probably gave a hint to his true age. Good genes in the man, clearly.

He bowed as the others bent a knee, all at once. It looked practiced. "Your majesty."

"Sir Klien. What is the situation here?"

The man straightened up. "There have been no incursions, of either kind, since your departure. Some scouts have reported suspicious movements in the air toward the west, near the border of the march. I thought it best we await your turn before dispatching any troops."

He was looking right at us both now, myself in particular. Interest was clear on his face, along with... disgust? Hmm. Was I disgusting? I likely smelled by now, but I didn't think I looked too bad. Maybe he was into the other side of life? I wouldn't judge.

Maybe he just hated people summoned from other worlds? If so, I couldn't blame that either; we were probably mostly assholes. I mean, I knew I was.

"You've thought correctly. We now have more options in regards to that. Speaking of, lead on. We could all use a hot meal and bath, and I should like to raid the treasury here for what we may."

"Of course. We shall go at once."

Without further preamble, he turned around and went through his own men. I hadn't noticed them straighten up, but they had. They weren't really important anyway, not right now. They wouldn't be doing anything to us, either hurt or harm, unless ordered to.

In contrast to the walls and the drawbridge, and the hidden portcullis that I hadn't spotted, the layout of the courtyard was straightforward: there was one road leading through the center, and buildings that could only be shops and warehouses to either side of that road. There were alleys every little bit, and I could see some plotted plants around the edges of the wall in what could only be gardens, but a defensive layout this wasn't.

Then again, the fort farthest from the edge did make up for that. Assuming someone could even breach the walls, they would be rolling up on a four story monstrosity with stones that struck me as being as thick as I was tall, made of a gray stone with black veins shot through it that looked rather cool.

This place gave off the vibe of a bastion of human engineering that had never fallen. Should I ask?

"This place hasn't ever been sieged, has it?"

Oh, that was one hell of a look from the commander of the place. He really didn't like me. What was his problem?

"It has, but not in recent human memory. During a prior age, known as the age of madness, this place was under siege for three years. The forest we went through burned down for leagues around, and demons were thick as seasonal locusts. The garrison here devolved to eating their own dead to survive... but the Eyrie did not fall."

That was pretty dark.

The would-be slaver king continued: "The kingdom still almost fell, of course, as the other forts guarding the other passes crumbled one by one. The demons were at the capital itself before they were finally stopped. That was some six thousand years ago, before the new system was put into place."

That explained a few things.

The fort itself also had a large gate, and this one was open. Just one step into the gloomy interior, a double row of who could only be maids and butlers started; we passed between them, and as we did, they seemed to wilt, either crumpling to the floor or simply folding themselves in half.

The would-be slaver king strode along, paying them no mind at all, until he reached the end of the line, where a guy who looked older than any three of us stood. His bow when reached was more shallow than the one the commander had given, and he seemed to have a face eternally set at resting bitch.

"Your Majesty."

"Hiron." Pronounced Hee-ron - interesting. "This is Oliver, and Isobel. They two need servants assigned to them during their stay. The guest quarters, East side. They also need baths and new clothing. I should like them ready for dinner."

Hiron bowed again, and I'd swear his bow was the same as the first, down to the millimeter. "It shall be done. Graven, Fellis, escort his Majesty to his chambers."

The would-be slaver king left, with a parting shot: "Go where my servants tell you, and see to yourselves. Do not leave the keep."

Well, open-ended, but that was that. Oliver would not be able to take a single step away from here. The commander shifted, stepping slightly in the way and cutting off any possible attempt to follow the man he served.

Then he turned to us. "You. You had both better be worth your disrespect."

That was why he was angry? Well, I could nip that in the bud. "We aren't. Barely worth the time at all. However, I was pulled from my home to here and told I'd be fighting in a war I didn't volunteer for at the behest of a man I don't know. In short, he ain't my king."

The man's face tightened further, and his hand dropped to his sword. Go for it, buddy. Pull it and see what happens.

After a moment, he released it and made a show of moving his hand from the hilt. "Show them to their baths. I must see to their gear."

Hiron, who could only be the head butler, bowed to the man as he marched off. A shallow bow, much closer to the one you would give an equal than a power greater than yourself. At least the man's face hadn't changed, remaining professional in spite of my heated retort to his master.

"This way if you please," my new maid said at the man's gesture, betraying some slight nerves as she watched the commander of the place stalk off, no doubt to hit a few things on his way before grabbing whatever old rags he could and then foisting them off on us.

"Well said," Oliver commented as his own new servant simply turned and began to march, leaving him to hurry and follow down a different hall. That one wasn't going to end well.

As for me, this one... she was a mouse. Even more diminutive than my new form, she was comprised mainly of shades of brown; tan or slightly darker than tan skin, dark brown hair, and eyes that a younger me would have called the color of shit.

Fond memories - that girl had punched me twice before the teacher could intervene, and it took my own mother to tell me what I'd done wrong. The truth did not in fact set you free in all cases.

Still, she was cute, with a smattering of freckles across her nose and a figure that was only beaten by my own; A little young, but in a few years she'd be quite the heart breaker. She was also dressed to look the part, in a black dress with white lace along it, and a nearly pristine white apron on. The apron had some large pockets along the front, and those looked to be full.

Still, she seemed too worried, too anxious, to be having a good time here.

We went down to the far end of the place, all the way to the back. Then we took a left, into a small room. This small room had some shelves and racks, and a bureau that looked out of place in here to one side. There was also a bench that ran the length of the space, clearly meant for sitting. The room was to be lit by lamps, and my new mousey friend pulled what looked for all the world like a giant match from one of her apron pockets, struck it, and lit first one lamp, then another. There was a door on the far side, and that's apparently where we were headed.

"I shall see to the water, honored one. Do you require any help disrobing?"

Honored one? Yeah, no. "Isobel, please. And no, I think I can take my clothes off just fine myself." I hadn't tried yet, but how hard could it be?

Fellis bowed in my direction. "As you wish. I shall return quickly."

Then she slipped through the door and shut it behind her.

Hm. Where was the zipper? There were no buttons... Ah, the side. The thing sticks, great. Take it slow; don't want to rip the only clothes you have access to... there! Easy. The shirt just unbuttoned and came off.

The bra... was a little difficult. There had to be a better way than just reaching for the clasp; human arms weren't really designed for that. Great, now I was more cold.                     

The outer door had a bolt lock, and it wasn't thrown. I settled that problem, and folded my clothes. Now all I could do was wait.

Well, wait and if I got desperate enough, use magic to keep myself warm; I wasn't freezing here.

I'd taken a step toward the inner door with the idea of finding out what was going on when it opened, and Fellis squeezed her body back through it; some steam followed her out.

She bowed again. "The water is not yet ready, yet it should be soon, lady Isobel."

Eh, close enough. "Well, ready or not, here I come."

She moved aside, yet her next statement stopped me utterly. "As you say. Do you need assistance?"

We were both women, weren't we? I didn't see the harm; my hands wouldn't be the ones straying. I shook off the sudden feeling of wrong and kept going. "Certainly. I could use some help with my back, and this hair."

"As you wish." I could hear her move away behind me, but I paid no mind. Either she would help me or she wouldn't.

The inner room was gloomy, that single glass domed lamp cutting the darkness without the help of a single window. Inset into the floor in the middle of this room was a small pool, looking to be made of some form of concrete, complete with small statues of kids bearing small jugs from which poured real water; water which steamed and made the entire place even harder to see.

There were steps, and I followed them down; the water was hot, as I should have expected. Why had she said it wasn't ready? This felt like a volcanic spring or something; the water was maybe a touch too hot, if anything.

It did smell nice, with just a hint of a sulfur smell, so maybe there was a scent issue to be taken care of? Whatever, I didn't care if I smelled like a giant match. My hair began to float around me as I settled in, incidentally catching a good look of a very nude maid as she came descended, a small basket filled with bottles and jars in her hands.

She let it go as she hit waist deep, and the basket floated along with her as she reached me. There was a bar of soap and a wash cloth present right on top, and I snagged both when they got close enough. It was nice to lay back and float, but I wouldn't get completely clean that way.

Speaking of floating....

Yeah, I was just going to ignore those rather large elephants in this room. And the elephant missing its' trunk joke... yeah, I shouldn't have thought of that. Fellis was cute enough, in her own way. The old me would have shot my shot, but the new me? Didn't feel anything at all.

It was just as well, I didn't need to have that kind of trouble on top of everything else.

Fellis started with my hair, and it felt rather nice; she had a gentle touch.

"I could do that, you know."

"Of course, my Lady. However, I am confident in my skills."

Was washing hair a skill? I guess it could be. She was good enough, and I was warm enough that I was in danger of falling asleep. Well, most of me was warm enough. The washcloth helped a bit with my two flotation devices.

Fellis at last pulled on me, gently. "Come, my Lady; we should hurry. You should not wish to be late to dinner."

With some regret, I sat up. "Right, that wouldn't be a good thing at all."

Fellis took over rubbing stuff on my back while I worked on my legs, and soon enough I was clean. Or if I wasn't clean, nothing here would get me so; this soap was a little rough.

Still, a second opinion couldn't hurt: "So, how is it? Am I clean?"

"We are both clean, my Lady," Fellis replied with some small tinge of regret. "You seem most energetic from one who has journeyed through the woods."

Did I splash around too much? Maybe I had. Whatever, I wasn't apologizing. "Everyone deserves to be clean, Fellis. Would you like me to wash your hair? I can return the favor."

"I shall be fine, my Lady." Wow, a reply dryer than the Sahara. I mean, sure she'd done a good job, but it wasn't that hard to wash hair. I was certain I could do it without yanking it all out or whatever she feared would happen.

"If you say so. I'm going to get dressed then."

Fellis lunged out of the water, almost drenching me again. "Ah, one moment, my Lady, I shall assist you."

The door was opened, and speaking of lunging, I was doing that after a towel; after the bath, this room was cold!

Yeah, cold stone as far as my bare feet could step. One towel went down there to step on, and another went to my hair. Before I could get going on that though, Fellis took over and began to gently pat my hair.

She was onto something there since rubbing seemed to irritate more than a little.

My clothes were gone. I'd left them here all folded carefully, and locked the door. Now they were gone.

I was proud of how calm I was. "Fellis, where did my clothes go?"

"The maids must have removed them for laundering. There is no need to worry, one shall come with replacements worthy of your station, and of your...prominence."

Was that jealousy I heard? Surely not, dear Fellis had nothing to worry about on that...  or any such fronts. Double entrendre was fun! Well, not really, but I had to find my amusements where I could.

A knock sounded on the door. A soft knock, one that neither of us would have heard from the other room. The door opened and a maid walked in; she was older than Fellis was, if I had to guess, with strawberry blonde hair framing a face that looked a bit... rough-hewn. As if cut from a block of wood, all sharp angles and slabs. Her form was also a little meaty; I'd wager if push came to shove she could weild a sword or ax better than half the men I'd seen so far. She just had that look.

Despite that, she hunched herself smaller and let out an eep when she saw us. "My Lady! I have brought suitable clothing for your use."

Suitable clothing looked like a dress. At least it looked like a long dress, and not the skirt. "I don't suppose you have any pants, do you?"

The scandalized looks the two directed my way let me know how likely that was. Whatever, just best to get this over with - I was getting cold anyway. "Fine, just help me out. Not sure how all this works."

The two fell in with a will, despite the looks of disbelief they now handed me. It was like they never heard of people wearing pants before. Or maybe it was pants to dinner?

Whatever, I'd put up with the indignity in order to see my needs met. At least for now. Hopefully the armor and weapons I was supposed to be getting were more realistic than fantasy based, or I'd probably have to commission my own clothes. Once I had money, of course.

The dress was was dark gray, with a lighter gray top half and black lace to add some color. Not that black really did much, but it broke up the monotony. The only underclothes were something suspiciously like boxes, but closed off. they  were fine, but the upper half of the support problem was actually countered with straps: one under my bust, and two more across my shoulders, which cinched tight and belted in. The overall effect was to have the dress itself support things.

There was no mirror, but it seemed like everything fit and was only mildy uncomfortable, so that was a plus; the war against the elements was defeated. The shoes... were actually soft slippers, made from either felt or something like it.

"Come my Lady, we must finish quickly. Follow me." Fellis exclaimed, and made a break for the door.

The other maid just stood stock still, her mouth open as we left. What?