Celeste looked herself over in the mirror. Her dark hair fell sleek to her bosom, tastefully highlighted by the gown that revealed curvaceous hints of what lay beneath it. With infinite care, she applied dark eyeliner, highlighting her golden eyes in dramatic fashion, then relaxed and smiled at her reflection. Perfect, as always.
“Celeste, are you ready? Drexler is expecting us,” Lady Mari called from her rooms beyond. It was unusual for a lady in waiting to enjoy such a close and casual relationship with her Mistress, but if Celeste was good at anything, it was creating unusual situations from ordinary ones.
“Yes Ma’am,” Celeste replied, hastening to Mari’s side.
As always when Celeste laid eyes on Mari, she caught her breath. To Celeste, Mari was the most alluring woman in the world. She was the sun, the moon, the stars. To Celeste, Mari was the universe. This is the sentiment only a true servant can understand, just as the joy of serving a Mistress wholeheartedly is a joy limited to those who allow themselves the gift of submission.
Fortunately for Celeste, unlike many women and men fortunate enough to command a deep admiration, Mari was worthy of worship. Sister to Lord Drexler, she had remained unmarried far longer than many noble ladies. Privately, many were aware this was due to her preference for the female sex, but outwardly, it was known that she was an effective and indeed, terrifying ambassador for the House of Drexler. Lady Mari had seen her first battle at the tender age of fourteen and inherited her father’s totem of the bear as he lay dying from wounds received in the battle not long after.
Lady Mari had walked hand in hand with tragedy, pain and death and triumphed over them all with a cool strength that now emanated from her and made her just as beloved as her famous brother. Celeste had been drawn to Mari the moment she had been brought to court by her parents as a teenager. She had refused to leave Mari’s side even then, and over the years had matured into her role as a trusted and skilled adviser to the house of Drexler.
“Come along, come along,” Mari hurried Celeste. “Drexler has received word from the House of Colban, evidently they are displeased with the deal they struck with us.” She said the words with a broad smile. The House of Colban had been thoroughly deceived and now they were predictably displeased.
Winding their way down from the noble quarters, the two women looked out over the small compound that housed Lady Mari’s hold. Mari had proved that a hold did not need to bristle with weapons and sweaty, smelly men in order to be secure, and the bulk of the hold was given not to dusty training grounds, but to a large garden. It was surrounded by a tall wall that fortified it and kept its inhabitants safe, not to mention inside. Most of the time, at least. This morning, at the far end of the wall, a slight figure could be seen slowly inching its way upwards.
Mari frowned, her dark brows creasing with irritation. “Let me deal with this.”
Celeste watched as Mari strode across the gardens, grasped the errant climber by the back of the neck and dumped her unceremoniously on the ground.
Rogue again. Would she ever learn? From the angry words being flung from ground level up towards Mari, it appeared not.
Rogue was the most recent addition to Lady Mari’s hold, a curious mix of noble and savage. She had proved that she could be depended on to defend her Mistress if it were required, but the remainder of her time was spent in various stages of a rebellion that had been raging for months now.
“Enough! If you do not wish to spend your days locked inside your rooms, you will stop trying to climb over the wall whenever you are not being watched.” Mari lectured sternly.
“If you didn’t lock me up in this boring compound I wouldn’t spend my time trying to escape,” Rogue flung back, her small fangs jutting out over her lower lip as they always did when she was upset. Celeste watched from a distance, smiling gently. Rogue was a constant source of amusement. Unable to tell when she had gained ground, she would repeatedly snatch defeat from the jaws of victory. This was one of those moments.
“I do not have time for this today,” Mari declared, catching Rogue by the ear, drawing her up from the ground, and marching her, squealing all the way, to her rooms, where she was securely locked away. Mari’s expression was grim as she returned to Celeste, dusting her hands off as she came.
“Last night’s little encounter seems to have done nothing to mellow the little beast,” she noted.
“It was supposed to mellow her? I thought it was simply an opportunity to relieve our tensions. She does have a tongue like a snake, does she not?” Celeste winked, and Mari laughed heartily.
“She is not bad, she could use some training though, far too hurried about the whole affair.”
“I could be persuaded to put her through her paces, by your leave, Mistress,” Celeste grinned.
Mari returned her look, “Oh I am sure you could, Celeste, I am sure you could.”
Lord Drexler was in high humor when Celeste and Mari arrived. A vital, powerful ruler, Lord Drexler had filled his father’s shoes admirably, and the House of Drexler had enjoyed more prosperity in the past decade than it had in the hundred years before it. It was a prosperity that had been won in fields of blood, fields that both Mari and her brother had trodden wearily as they carved a better future for themselves and their people. Though the House of Drexler still boasted a significant armed force, diplomacy was now preferred over bloodshed.
“Look at the threats Lucas Colban has sent us if we do not relinquish title on the lands he gifted to us,” Lord Drexler declared, unrolling a scroll that reached from the table to the floor.
“Do you consider this serious?” Mari asked, glancing over a few of the threats, most of which seemed to involve, heads, pikes and boiling oil.
Looking over the scroll, Celeste shook her head. “I think not, Ma’am. His threats are largely ones of force, yet it is by our leave entirely that the House of Colban’s borders remain intact. Had we not taken the lands by deception, we could equally as well taken them directly.”
Lord Drexler nodded. “She is correct, yet I fear that he may try some form of reprisal simply to assuage his ego. He is an idiot.”
Celeste inclined her head, her eyes hooded as she thought. “Perhaps, Lucas Colban is rash. It would be better if this conflict were contained. I would suggest something of a contest. The warlike passions of men can often be diverted into sport.”
“If he can be persuaded into such an agreement it would be better. War depletes resources. The barbarians would take advantage of unrest,” Mari said. “I propose we set Lucas Colban a challenge. We will meet at the arena, and there he, and he alone will fight for his lands against a champion of our choosing.”
“And who will enter into combat with Colban?” Lord Drexler asked, a twinkle in his eye.
Mari smiled wickedly. “Why dear brother, I will, of course.”
Celeste frowned, but the Lord Drexler roared with laughter. “Perfect! When he is defeated, he will not dare raise the issue again for fear of the spreading of the word that he lost to a woman.”
“Should we not use one of our warriors?” Celeste broke in. “One of our trained men?”
Mari shook her head. “No, I must be the one to defeat Colban. This is not a contest of force, this is a contest of humiliation. He must lose to me. A loss to one of our soldiers would mean nothing.”
“But Ma’am, Lucas Colban is dangerous. You could be hurt. You could….”
“I could what?” Mari purred the words, and there was a subtle threat in her words. The idea that Mari Drexler would lose a battle, any battle, was unspeakable.
“You could, break a nail, Ma’am,” Celeste recovered with a lame attempt at a smile.
Mari chuckled and caressed Celeste’s cheek. “Nails grow back. A man’s pride, once wounded, is not easily healed.”
“Yes Ma’am,” Celeste smiled politely and made a few notes for the messenger who would deliver Drexler’s reply to Colban. Thoroughly displeased with the outcome of the council, Celeste hid her disapproval behind a calm mask. She would do what was best for her Mistress, and what was best for her Mistress was that she not be allowed to fight Lucas Colban.
If Lady Mari suspected that Celeste was displeased, it did not seem to bother her in the slightest as they strolled back towards Mari’s hold. Indeed, she smiled and laughed more readily than she had in some time. Warriors do not forget their battle lust, no matter how much they may pretend to settle into civilized society, and Lady Mari was every inch a warrior, whether she wore a pretty gown or not.
The city was filled with the afternoon crowds going about their business, selling wares, buying supplies and generally enjoying the prosperity that came with being vassals to the House of Drexler. The House of Drexler had expanded greatly in the last few years not through wars, but through the desire of the people to pledge their loyalty to those who could wield power and remain largely uncorrupted by it.
Scanning the crowd for pretty beads and trinkets as was her wont, Celeste suddenly spluttered. “Is that Rogue?”
“I believe it is,” Mari responded deceptively calmly.
Celeste opened her mouth to say something, but Mari was gone. One moment she was by Celeste’s side, the next moment she was wading through the crowds, lifting up a tent awning and dragging Rogue out by the back of her pants. Evidently Rogue had escaped from her rooms and the hold, and judging from the mud smeared state of her face, hair and clothes, it had been by digging her way out somewhere.
Even from a distance, Celeste winced as Mari’s palm cracked firmly down across Rogue’s backside, and the crowd roared with amusement.
“You show ‘er lady Mari!” A rotund woman selling pears encouraged.
“I told you to stay in your rooms,” Mari said sternly, raising her hand to strike Rogue’s backside again. But mud makes an excellent lubricant, and wriggling like a little snake, Rogue squirmed free and was lost amongst the legs of the crowd before Mari could lay hands on her once more. This time Mari did not make chase.
“Ten gold pieces for the person who brings her back to me,” Mari said calmly.
Panting and gasping for breath, Rogue dipped and dodged amongst the crowd.
“Ten gold pieces for her!” the cry had been taken up, making her escape that much more difficult. But Rogue was made of stern stuff, stern serpent stuff, and a few hundred grasping hands would not change that.
Plenty of people laid hands on her, but they also let go very quickly when Rogue sank her fangs in to their tender flesh. As a result, less than a minute after Mari’s bounty went out, the market was full of screaming people clutching at their arms.
Even snakes run out of luck however, and Rogue ran out of luck when a rather large merchant wearing metal bracers grabbed her easily by the scruff of the neck and hoisted her into the air.
“Got ‘er Lady Mari!” he cried out jovially, wading through the crowd towards the noble lady, ignoring the unfortunate Rogue’s pleas not to be returned to her Mistress alternated with attempts to bite him through his metal guards.
When she laid eyes on her Mistress again, Rogue knew that she was not pleased. They say that eyes are the window to the soul. Mari’s eyes were sometimes warm, more often stern, but right now they were cold like granite, the sort of granite that would crush you if you ran afoul of it.
Of course Celeste was there too, standing there like a china doll, too pretty to get messy. She was engaged in paying the brute who had captured Rogue. “If you would be so kind as to escort the lady back to Mari’s hold, we will reward you doubly,” Celeste said with a tremor inducing smile at Rogue.
Mari had already turned away without another word or look at her wayward servant. Perhaps escaping from her grasp had been a bad idea. Mari did not like to be made a fool of, and Mari especially did not like to be disobeyed.
But it was too late now, and whining all the way, Rogue being was half carried, half dragged back to the security of Mari’s hold. She had been expecting to be put back in her rather lavish rooms, but it was not to be. Instead Celeste directed Rogue’s captor down winding stairs beneath the main tower and Rogue learned something new for the day.
The basement under the main tower contained cells. They smelled musty and disused, and were ill appointed with nothing but some straw on the floor providing a place to sit.
Tossed unceremoniously onto the concrete floor by the merchant who was far more concerned with the twenty gold pieces he was receiving than the urchin he was manhandling and with the solid metal bars slammed ominously shut behind her, Rogue wondered if she hadn’t perhaps gone a little too far this time.
“Naughty, naughty,” Celeste crooned through the bars.
“Fuck off, Celeste,” Rogue replied. To her dismay, Celeste laughed and did just that, leaving Rogue alone in the darkness.
