Cordell meets a problem

27th October 1103

She had followed him out into the courtyard. He could hear her soft footsteps behind him, despite the gentle gurgle of the fountain.

What the fuck was he going to do now.

The air in the courtyard was sickening sweet, the last oranges of the year growing overripe and rotting on the ground. Mingling with the lavender that grew here and there and the acrid water pipe smoke that spilled from the room it was an assault on the senses.

Cordell was trying not to panic. Just keep walking. Look like you are meant to be here.

But Christ, he didn’t even know where the fuck he was going.

Behind him he heard a dainty cough.

He turned around slowly to face her as she slunk up to him.

Cordell almost opened his mouth to ask how he could help her, but he closed it sharply, biting down on his tongue to remind himself that under no circumstance should he use it.

“Are you lost? Sometimes I get a bit turn around in here myself. Why, there are so many doors. Ten. It must be very difficult to know which a dead girl is behind,” she purred, her yellow eyes gleaming in the torchlight.

“Ah wait, I think you find one behind every door you look. If not dead now then very soon.”

She smiled at him but there was no warmth in it. He was reminded of the toothy grins of the killer whales that trawled the Draldor sea, murderous creatures that roamed in packs preying on other members of their cetacean kind.

“My, but you do seem quite large for a woman,” she smiled.

He shrugged his shoulders and then subtly hunched them to make himself seem smaller.

Christ, where was she going with this.

He pointed feebly toward the corridor and what he hoped might be the door, trying to indicate that he would like to end this terribly dangerous conversation. If it could even be called that, when only one person were speaking.

She leaned towards him, possibly to whisper something to him. He brought his head a little closer so that she could.

Without warning she reached down to his groin and grabbed his balls in her tiny hand, twisting painfully.

All the air rushed out of him as he tried to stifle a yelp of pain.

“Quite big balls for a woman too,” she snarled, releasing him.

He hunched over, trying to breath through the remorseless pain that was burning through his abdomen.

“Who are you?” she hissed.

Since she knew he was a man it was probably safe to drop the painted one act. At least he had another trick up his sleeve.

He rearranged his face into a mournful expression, not so difficult given that his testicles would probably never quite forget this indignity.

“I’m nobody. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come here. I know that is wrong and sinful. I just can’t help myself,” he whispered.

He leaned in a little closer, “I just have to have them. I like to lie with them you know. I know that it is filthy and I’m a pervert, but this way I can have them all to myself and he always discards such pretty ones too. Please don’t tell, they’ll kill me.”

She looked disgusted, perhaps it was working, though whether that was a good thing he couldn’t quite be sure. She might just tell the guards and then they would probably castrate him. At least then she couldn’t get her hands on his poor balls again. Christ.

She brought her face in very close to his, “You are lying. Who are you? Who sent you?”

He was completely out of ideas now.

“If you don’t tell to me I will scream and tell that you are a man and they will kill you. So tell me,” she growled.

“Fine,” he hissed, “Nobody sent me. I’ve come here to take Miriamele. She’s my wife’s sister and I don’t want to abandon her to a fate like this.”

Her face went suddenly still, the colour draining from her cheeks, “You have come here to rescue the little star wife?”

“Yes,” he replied. There was nothing else to say.

Her demeanor changed completely. Her body drooped like the soft purple lavender flowers, bending her shoulders and her head so they were lower than his, suddenly submissive. Her expression softened, her lower lip pushed out slightly, her eyes widening. Her dark hair slipped down over her face making her seem more vulnerable little girl than star-wife to the God King.

“Please take me with you,” she mumbled.

He wanted to, he really did, despite having met her in such a devastatingly uncomfortable way. But he couldn’t. How could he? He had planned for Miriamele, had brought along a set of boy’s clothes that she should could wear, made sure to carry out his plan late at night, near to the changing of the guard so nobody would know if the painted one had brought along a small boy, nowhere close to manhood, to help with the dreadful task at hand.

How the hell was he supposed to smuggle out a grown woman as well?

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, “I wish I could, but I don’t see how it is possible.”

Her face was suddenly hard again, her pointy chin defiant.

“Well that is much too bad. You are just going to have to think how to make the impossible. Because otherwise I call the guard.”

He gaped at her as she continued, “I am already dead so it don’t matter to me which way it go. I die going with you, I stay here I die. So I come with you. You make it so. I prefer to die going with you than how I die here in this hellish place.”

He was going to have to think of a new plan.


2 responses to “Cordell meets a problem”

  1. Van says:

    Oh, yay! She’s not going to turn him in! :)

    Really, assuming that a suitable disguise for Nagale can be found, this could work out very well for Cordell and Miri. Nagale knows the layout of the place since N’nkasha took over. She knows where the guards are. She might know which guards have which weaknesses and how to bribe them (assuming she’s not looking like herself).

    Maybe she can pretend to be the corpse? If she’s got a sheet over her, how would the guards know?

  2. verity says:

    You’re pretty spot on with your thinking there Van ;), pretending to be the corpse is pretty much the only way they could manage to sneak her out.

Leave a Reply