The Journey, Page 3

  “I certainly am, you luscious morsel,” Ravisher called. “And now I have you over a barrel because you have to distract your attention from defending that ignorant mortal lout. I believe there is at last an avenue, and I mean to get thoroughly into it. But I will be generous: oblige me fully without further resistance, and I will spare him the ministrations of the press-gang. For as long as you remain mine.”

  Floyd had little doubt it was a fair offer, considering their present plight. “Maybe you should dump me and fly out of here, as I know you can. Save yourself; I’m doomed anyway.”

  “Never!” she said tightly. “I gave my word. There are other options.”

  “You have about run out of options, cupcake,” Ravisher called. “What little remains is realism. Open up, at long last, and enjoy the experience.”

  Indeed, the pursuers were now so close that their lead horse could bite Old Blackie’s tail. The end was entirely too near.

  Faux brought out a small figure; Floyd could see it beside him in her extended hand. “What’s that?” he asked, curious despite their predicament.

  “It’s an Elf Talisman,” she replied, holding it up and stroking it with her thumb.

  “A what?”

  “To summon the Light Elves. Specifically, the White Ladies.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I do, you female hound,” Ravisher said, and dived for it.

  But Faux’s thumb punched the belly of the figure just before he got there.

  Then suddenly they were in a pleasant glade: Floyd, Faux, and Old Blackie. The horse was in a sad state, breathing so hard he seemed about to explode.

  A lovely young woman appeared before them, garbed in a flimsy white gown that barely concealed her evocative curves. She had sky-blue eyes, and her hair was like fresh cornsilk, flowing gently down to her waist. “Peace, stallion,” she said, stroking the horse’s nose. The horse relaxed immediately, as if rested for an hour.

  Floyd and Faux dismounted, and the woman led the horse to the side, where there was excellent grazing. Then she faced Faux. “To what do we owe the honor of this visit by a Dusky Elf and her cohort?”

  But Floyd picked up a certain aura about the woman that made him pause. She was surely a magical creature, and not necessarily a friend despite her soft language.

  “We greet you grandly, Lady Sunrise,” Faux said formally. “I am Faux Fee, and this is my charge, Floyd Mortal, and Old Blackie Equine. We plead sanctuary.”

  “And what do you offer in return, Lady Faux?”

  So this was a business deal, something for something. But Floyd doubted these creatures had any need or desire for gold. What was their medium of exchange?

  “The entertainment of The Innocent.”

  Sunrise considered momentarily, glancing at Floyd with disconcerting intensity. “I believe it will do. My sisters are engaged at the moment, but will return shortly. Do you wish to admit the hovering Dark Elf to join us here?”

  “No. He is the reason we ask for Sanctuary.”

  The White Lady nodded. “He shall be excluded. Come, relax while my sisters conclude their business and come to join us.”

  “Thank you, Lady,” Faux said gratefully.

  Sunrise showed them to a pavilion in the glade, and sat them at a table bearing white sweetcakes and wine glasses. She poured a sparkling white fluid into the glasses.

  Floyd was nervous. “Uh, should we be drinking? We have far to go.”

  Sunrise smiled brilliantly, and the glade seemed to illuminate. “Dear boy, we have extended our hospitality. We will not cause you any mischief. This is fruit juice that will not cloud your mind.” She formed a lesser smile. “We would not want to cloud your mind.”

  What did that mean? He glanced at Faux, who nodded almost imperceptibly and sipped her own. So he lifted his glass and sipped. It was indeed mixed berry juice, pleasantly tart, surely harmless. He bit into a sweetcake, and it was delicious.

  “We seldom have visitors,” Sunrise said.

  Faux laughed. “That may be because you are extremely rare creatures in these parts. I believe you are the only White Lady clan outside central Europe. We would never have found you without the Talisman.”

  “We do value our privacy,” Sunrise agreed. “If I may ask, how came you by the Talisman?”

  Faux made an intriguing moue. “I did a favor for a lonely elf king some time ago.”

  “Ah, you were the one!” Sunrise exclaimed. “He spoke of that night of utter bliss with special fondness.”

  “I did my best to satisfy him,” Faux agreed. “Unfortunately that attracted the attention of Ravisher.”

  “Ah.” Sunrise’s expression showed complete understanding.

  Another fair young woman appeared in the glade. She was much like Sunrise in face and figure, but her eyes were darkly shadowed. “Moonlight,” Sunrise said. “How goes it?”

  “He was unworthy,” Moonlight said with a hint of regret. “I had to dismiss him.” She produced a jeweled comb and stroked a single displaced tress back into place.

  “This is our guest, Faux Fee,” Sunrise said, indicating Faux. “And her companion, Floyd Mortal. He will presently join us in a game of Innocence.”

  “Ah.” Moonlight focused on Floyd with the same disconcerting appraisal her sister had shown. “That will be nice.”

  Soon another White Lady appeared, similar to the others but with eyes that seemed almost to shine like bright stars. She was introduced as Morningstar. And another, with dark star eyes: Eveningstar. And finally one whose eyes were like the setting sun: Sunset. All of them were transcendentally beautiful. Sisters indeed!

  Faux stood. “I believe I shall be on my way.”

  “But what of this game?” Floyd asked, alarmed that they would miss what he suspected would be a most interesting experience. “We can’t go yet.”

  “Let me explain,” Faux said gently. “Ravisher is lurking outside this magically protected park. He seeks to intercept me as I leave, which could be a rather awkward encounter. So I prefer to make my way to the ship in a disguise he will not recognize, and meet you there in due course. One of the White Ladies will guide you for that brief trip only; the game is to select which one.”

  “But I don’t really know these ladies, lovely as they are,” Floyd protested. “They owe me nothing. I don’t wish to impose.”

  Sunrise put her fine hand on his arm, and he froze in place. “It is not an imposition, Floyd. We truly appreciate your company.”

  And while the Lady held him in stasis, Faux faded out. It seemed he was committed. “Uh, then thank you, Ladies. I hope I don’t disappoint you.”

  “You are unlikely to do that,” Sunrise said softly.

  “Uh, okay,” he said awkwardly. He knew he could trust Faux, and that she would not leave him in a bad situation, but these lovely, powerful creatures made him nervous. What did they really want with him?

  “The game is simple,” Sunrise said, turning him around to face the center of the pavilion. The table had been replaced by a low circular dais. A maidservant was just finishing placing the chairs around it. “You will interview each of us for approximately one minute, and then choose which one of us will accompany you to the ship. None of us may touch you during the show, but any promise any of us makes must be honored on the journey.”

  “But I’m hardly equipped to judge. Maybe you should just have one, well, volunteer for the chore.”

  She smiled. “That is not the way it works, sweet man. You alone must choose. Now we begin. I will be first.”

  He found himself rooted to the spot as she mounted the dais. “Floyd, I would like to guide you along the path to the ship,” she said as the other maidens settled into chairs that the maidservant placed behind them. “I see in you a fine young man with great potential. I will entertain you along the way with my merry melodies. Some songs are romantically conducive.” And she broke into a pretty song with just a hint of titillation that thrilled him for the brief time it las
ted until her minute was up. Then she went silent and stepped off the stage.

  Floyd knew already that she was the one he wanted to accompany him. What a sprightly creature! He longed to hear her more seductive songs. But he had to watch the other Ladies first.

  Now Moonlight stepped onto the dais. “I can entertain you with my little magic tricks,” she said. A handkerchief appeared in her hand. She shook it out and a small bird fluttered out. “I can do tricks with your body too. I can make things rise.” Her hands moved suggestively. “Once we are discreetly alone.”

  Was she promising what he thought she was? He would love to have her hands evoking his body. She had already made a portion of him rise. She was the one he really wanted.

  It was Morningstar’s turn. She was fully garbed and veiled, most attractively. She did not speak, she danced. First she removed her veil and let it flutter to the floor of the pavilion. Then she removed her robe and was revealed in decorative bra and panties. She drew that bra off, and her marvelous breasts bounced seductively as she moved. Then her panties, so that she paraded nude as her minute ended. She stepped off with a smoldering glance, her pert buttocks flexing.

  Had he wanted the others? Foolishness. Indeed, this was the one!

  Eveningstar stepped on. She wore a low-slung halter and lower-slung pantaloons. She did not remove them, but instead moved them in a manner that phenomenally enhanced her considerable assets. It was a striptease, and this clothed art was phenomenally seductive, making evocative mysteries of her barely hidden parts. Floyd realized that it was not really the nudity that was sexy, it was the motion. Yes, she was the one he wanted.

  Sunset was on. “Day is ending, night is coming,” she said. “I can deliver you into a divine dream you will never want to end. The passions of Day fade before the passions of Night.” She made a stroking-and-kissing gesture that practically made him float off the ground. Oh, how he wanted to dream of her all night long! She was definitely the one!

  The maidservant stepped onto the dais. She was ordinary to the point of plainness, with a homely face and rather spare figure, and her hair was cut short about her neck so as not to interfere with her humble duties. She toyed nervously with her simple bead necklace. “I am sorry, sir,” she said. “There was supposed to be a sixth Lady, but she was detained and I must substitute. I am Trudy. I am a lowly mortal girl. I will not bore you long. I promise only to always tell the truth when you ask me a question, to the extent I know it or am allowed; I am under a geis not to reveal too much of the private business of the Ladies I serve.”

  “A what?”

  “A geis,” she repeated, pronouncing it geesh. “It is a magic obligation of honor that binds me. The White Ladies will not allow some of their secrets to be revealed to mortals. But apart from that, I will help you all I can. I know the way to the port town well, as I have relatives there I often visit. I can get you there in time to catch the ship.”

  Floyd was taken aback. Trudy was promising him nothing except honest and competent guidance. Wasn’t that what he wanted? The Ladies were all fabulous, but he knew they were toying with him. In fact, he realized that they could read his mind. They must have been deliberately exciting him so they could revel in his innocent mortal reactions. That was why this game was called Innocence. If he chose one, and she seduced him on the way to the ship, she would pick up every nuance of his evoked and surely clumsy passion, and likely share it mentally with her sisters. They all would be seducing him. He would be like a performing bear, an object of great amusement. That was the deal they had made with Faux, in return for deliverance from the press-gang.

  “This is true,” Sunrise said beside him, not concealing her intimate inspection of his mind. “But you can enjoy it too. We guarantee that.”

  “And what then of my—my innocence?” he demanded. Suddenly that was valuable to him, oddly.

  “It will inevitably dissipate. Innocence is a sadly fleeting thing, in mortals and immortals. We treasure it the little time it endures, and value it immensely. Already yours is suffering. Please, Floyd Mortal, indulge us in this. Your innocence will all too soon be lost anyway, wasted on those who won’t appreciate it as we do, and we offer a most pleasant way to abate it. Choose a companion.”

  But Floyd had had enough. He feared being mocked by these sophisticated creatures, and wanted none of it. “I choose Trudy,” he said curtly.

  “But I’m just substituting; I’m not really supposed to—” the girl protested.

  “The decision is mine to make, isn’t it? Let’s get moving, lest I miss the ship.”

  She bowed her head submissively. “As you wish, sir.”

  “Old Blackie!” he called, and the grazing horse perked up his ears. “Here to me!”

  The horse came. Floyd mounted, then swung Trudy up before him. She was a light little thing, smelling faintly of new-mown hay. He turned to the White Ladies. “I do thank you for your service,” he said. “You did save my life. If we ever meet again, perhaps my attitude will differ.”

  “But you will no longer be innocent,” Sunrise said sadly.

  “I apologize for that.” Then he nudged the horse with his knees, and they walked out of the glade.

  Chapter 5: Trudy

  “This way,” the girl said, indicating a path through the forest. “It’s the best one.”

  “Thanks.” He guided Old Blackie that way. The horse picked up the scent of the path and followed it without further direction.

  “You were amazing,” Trudy said. “I was sure you would choose one of the Ladies, and she would have obliged you handsomely. They are excellent at what they do.”

  “But my mission was merely to reach the ship. I am doing that now.”

  She laughed. “With an ugly peasant girl! Others will think you a fool.”

  “You’re not ugly.” But that was as far as he could honestly take it. She was completely plain.

  “Thank you. But I know I am nothing.”

  Old Blackie snorted. “He smells something,” Floyd said. “He’s alarmed.”

  “I fear I know what it is,” she said. “There was more going on than you knew.”

  “Oh? What?”

  “That press-gang. They eliminated it. That’s why they were late getting to the pavilion. Moonlight even got her hair mussed.”

  “I don’t understand. Those were rough men. If they’d encountered any of those lovely women—” He broke off, not wanting to share his ugly thought.

  The horse halted. There was something in the path ahead of them.

  Floyd quickly dismounted, and Trudy followed. What they saw was a dead man.

  “That’s one of the press-gang,” Floyd said. “I can tell by his uniform. They were probably laying siege to the Ladies’ sanctuary, waiting for us to emerge. It looks as if his neck is broken. How could that have happened?”

  “The Ladies pay me in incidental spells,” Trudy said. “Let me invoke one.” She lifted her necklace and touched a bead.

  A ball of light appeared above the body. It expanded into a globe that showed a scene. It was this path. A woman walked along it. It was Moonlight!

  A man strode out of the shadow of a tree. It was one of the press-gangsmen. “Ho, wench!” he called. “What do ye here, alone in the forest?”

  “I go to the field to harvest fresh berries, sir,” she replied. She looked lovely in her filmy gown. “Please let me pass.”

  “No one else is near?” he asked, looking around.

  “No one, sir. I go alone.”

  “Well now.” He grabbed her by her narrow waist. “I’ve got something better for you to do than pick berries.”

  “Please unhand me, sir,” she said, struggling ineffectively. “I do not wish to be with you.”

  “Tough crap, sister.” He put a hand to her bodice and ripped it down, exposing her breasts.

  “Will you not let me go, sir?” she pleaded plaintively.

  “Sure, after I’ve swived you.” He ripped at her exposed panties as
he bore her back. “What a body!”

  “Then I must need defend myself,” she said. She stepped into him, put her hands to his head, and turned it sharply with surprising force. There was a crack as his neck broke. She stepped back as he dropped to the ground. One tress was loose.

  The picture faded.

  Floyd was amazed. “I saw that loose tress. She—she did a magic trick. She said she would—be with me.”

  “And so she would,” Trudy agreed. “You were innocent, and not trying to force her. They can be very nice to men they like, but they kill men they don’t like. All the press-gangsters are dead except the last one, who I think must have treated the Lady with some respect, so she obliged him and sent him on his way with a warning. That was why she did not show up for the game, and I had to take her place. It requires more time to seduce a man than to kill him.”

  “Moonlight—she was so soft and nice,” Floyd said, stricken by the contrast.

  “Your innocence is blemished. The White Ladies are soft, but they are not nice unless they choose to be. Moonlight gave that bad man a fair chance.”

  “She did,” Floyd agreed. He dragged the corpse out of the path. He scrounged for a solid stick and scraped out a shallow grave, then dragged the body into it and dumped it over. The press-gangster was bad, but he was after all a man, and deserved that much of a burial.

  “You’re nice even to a dead enemy,” Trudy said.

  “I try to do the right thing,” he said. “Even if I don’t always know what it is.”

  “That is good.”

  Then they returned to the horse, mounted, and resumed their trek. “What do you do for the Ladies?” he asked her.

  “Housework, mostly. I clean out the dust, make the beds, that sort of thing.”

  “Beds? What need have they of beds, if they don’t sleep?”

  She laughed. “They don’t sleep, though they can pretend to. Sometimes they have visitors, such as royal male elves. Then they really use those beds. Sometimes the sheets get tied in knots from their exertions. Those are busy days for me.”