Methas sat quietly in her study, a rare moment of quiet for her as her pretty playthings awaited the latest of the rescue attempts that King Poder had launched in the past two months. She stared into her crystal sphere at the sight of Sir Dioryc, handsomest knight of the realm. Since she'd kidnapped his nieces Binna and Keesa, the King hadn't left her tower alone for more than a handful of days. Methas grinned to herself as she thought of the lovely granite statues of Sir Jobal and the other knights who now graced her garden. Dioryc would make the best statue of all, she thought, watching him ride closer on his great war steed. But what a waste of strong arms, muscular legs, and ... Methas let her eyes wander to more intimate parts of the knight's anatomy, her crystal sphere able to see through armor as well as it could see across great distance. A great shame indeed to make of him but a statue. Perhaps she could turn him to better use.
The sorceress turned to her great tome of magic, her book of grammarye, and opened it to the section on charms. She found the spell she had last used to such enduring and rewarding effect on the lovely princesses Keesa and Binna. Methas licked her lips in anticipation. Studying the spell closely for the space of time needed to commit it to her capacious memory, she let the candles flicker out as she left her study, leaving the grammarye open to the page showing, in flowery writing, "Claimyng Fealty of ye Hearte and ye Bodye"...
Methas walked down the winding stairs of her tower to the entry room. Here, two lovely naked girls hung on opposite walls, Binna with dark hair curling around her slight but curvy frame, Keesa with cornsilk blonde waves falling over her plump shoulders and ample bosom. The two had iron manacles around each delicate wrist and ankle, and each wore a strappy leather harness around waist, groin, shoulder and neck and looped around an iron hook above her head. When she saw the sorceress, Keesa began to twist in her bonds, moaning softly, then pleaded to be let down. Methas disregarded this and sat down in her chair facing the entry door, stretching out her legs comfortably on the footstool.
"Sir Dioryc is on his way, pets," the sorceress purred.
"Oh!" Binna exclaimed. "I used to see him in court. So many of the girls were in love with him, m'Lady." Binna hardly showed discomfort; petite and lighter by half than Keesa, the bondage barely discomfited her, she seemed almost relaxed where she hung on the wall.
"Do we have to stay like this till he gets here?" whined Keesa. Methas always hung the girls up when knights were on their way, to show off her power and to be sure they knew the girls they came to rescue were still alive and well.
Methas turned a slow smile to Keesa. "You need something to distract you till he arrives, is that it?" The sorceress snapped her fingers and gazed at the palm of her hand, chanting a few words of summoning until a tiny electrical sprite appeared hovering over her upraised fingers. Methas whispered to the sprite, who flew over to Keesa hovering before the quivering blonde girl's belly. "Next time you moan or whine, Keesa, the elemental will give you a little reminder of your manners. Of course, you need a sample to know what to expect..." Methas snapped her fingers again and a soft bzzzt! sound filled the air for a moment, as the sprite gave Keesa a momentary sparking shock.
Keesa bit her lip and winced in pain, but quieted, keeping a wary eye on the sprite as it danced before her. Binna watched, a smile dancing over her lips. Methas seemed to pay no attention, returning to what she had intended to say regarding the approaching knight.
"It seemed to me to be a waste to relegate a man with as many virtues as Dioryc has to the role of garden statuary. So if I can, I intend to bring him into our little family... we could use the masculine touch here, could we not, pets?" Methas looked slyly at Binna.
"A man, M'Lady? What use do we have for one?" Binna's light laughter belied her apparent helplessness on the wall.
Methas laughed outright. "Binna, shame on you. You may have been virginal when I took you captive but you were never so innocent as that. You know what a man does with a woman when he gets her alone. "
Binna flushed. Despite that she knew Methas but teased her, she was charmed to truly feel shamed when Methas scolded her even in jest. She also knew it would please her captor most if she continued to speak lightly. "Yes, but we have the magical man-in-a-box to serve that purpose. Or is it broken?"
Methas nodded approvingly. "Well, pet, Dioryc is far prettier than that admittedly delightful toy. And men have minds as well, often full of the most deliciously devious thoughts. He will provide quite an entertainment, however things work out."
Methas knew it would be a bit longer before the knight arrived at her door. Her mind wandered to the days, only short months ago! when she lived alone in her tower. For quite a long time she had spied on the doings in the royal castle, and when Binna and Keesa arrived, Keesa the daughter of the King's older sister and her husband the Duke of Bramwick, and Binna her foster-sister, the illegitimate daughter of the old King on one of the Duke's former wards, Methas had begun watching nearly to the exception of all else. The two girls, both in the peak of their beauty, were close friends and teasing rivals. They were also confidantes of each other, and Methas overheard them tell each other their most secret sorrows and fantasies as they curled together in the bed they shared. Both were lonely for pets and secret hideaways they had left behind, but they did not seem to miss their mothers or any friends. They also did not seem to be making many new friends at the court; they flirted all around but seemed only close with one another.
Methas noticed that both girls had fantasies of being stolen away by a romantic dark figure. These stories always ended with them being rescued and married by a handsome prince, but it was evident it was the initial kidnapping by the menacing villain that really excited them. This led her to plotting. She pored over her spellbook until she found just the right combination of tricks that would allow her to extract the two girls from the magical safeguards of the castle. A little cooperation from them would be necessary, but she felt sure she could achieve it.
Methas disguised herself as an old wisewoman and went to the royal castle offering fortunetelling to all the young courtiers. Binna and Keesa dared one another to go see her, and she beckoned them both in. She gave them each a charm and told them to keep it under their pillows, as it would make their hopes come true.
The charms were counterspells to the castle's magical defenses, very small in scope, as well as inducing erotic dreams in the girls when they slept with them under their pillows. A few days later, Methas whisked the girls away to her tower. The King's sorcerer traced them to her tower, but was unable to stop her magic.
Her reverie evaporated as she sensed Sir Dioryc triggering the outermost of her magical protection spells. Methas concentrated and allowed one man and his mount passage through the hair-trigger enchantment.
Dioryc rode through the brush along the little-used path, muttering to himself, mostly speculations that the path had last been traveled in the days of his father's youth. He speculated aloud that the evil sorceress's visitors were generally not arriving on foot or horseback. Methas laughed quietly to herself overhearing. She glanced at the two girls; Binna was starting to shift uncomfortably, while Keesa was still intimidated by the electrical sprite.
Keesa stared angrily at her father. The Duke looked back at his youngest daughter, hiding his bewilderment behind a stern facade. "You ungrateful snip," he said. "Fine men risked their lives to rescue you from that witch. The king's sorcerer himself dispelled the enchantment she had put on you! What is wrong with you?"
Keesa glared, silently. Her mother, peering at her, was suddenly convinced of a fearful notion... and scurried off to her chaplain with the thought.
Father and daughter continued to stare sullenly at one another, having run out of words but not the emotions behind the words. As they stood, Prater the priest of Domenicus, chaplain to the Duchess, approached them. He wore a grave expression, though his eyes shone with a glint of dark glee.
Prater examined Keesa, his eyes raking her up and down. "Kneel and say the Domenican Prayer," he commanded her. Keesa stayed mutely upright, rebellion in every line of her stance. Prater turned to the Duke. "Your daughter has been corrupted," he told the worried father, "and is probably a witch." Prater snapped his fingers and two of the Duke's guards turned to look at him. He beckoned them with a finger. "Take her to a cell, and manacle her in silver," he told them, "and tomorrow we will try her for witchcraft." Behind them, unnoticed till now, Keesa's mother gasped audibly.
Keesa did not struggle as the guards, one of them a childhood friend, escorted her to the small, utilitarian dungeon in her father's cellars. Adjacent to the coal bin, its four jail cells each contained two pallets and a covered latrine hole as their entire furnishings. The guards had no idea where to find silver manacles, so they simply ignored that part of the priest's orders, and locked Keesa in the cleanest of the cells. Two cells had inhabitants already, one containing three thieves who had been caught the previous night in the wine cellar, the other holding a poacher and a deserter. All five men looked on astonished as Keesa was locked into her cell.
The poacher recognized her instantly. "Princess Keesa!" he said.
At this, the deserter looked up. He hadn't known her by her looks, but he knew the name; they all did. "Got ye a bastard in yer belly, milady?" He laughed coarsely at his own wit. Two of the thieves sniggered. The poacher looked at his cellmate angrily. The deserter, several inches shorter and many pounds of muscle lighter than the poacher, made an appeasing gesture to the poacher's threatening ones, and a fight was averted.
Keesa sat down on one of the pallets in her cell and finally the weight of the whole day came crashing down on her... her tears started and once they did, she found she could not stop, sobs wracking her as the men quieted down and started to feel sympathy for her evident pain.
Meanwhile, Methas was frantic. Keesa was gone, not dead, but vanished. She couldnt find the girl in her crystal sphere. Binna was equally upset and burying her panic in overattentive service to Methas, who snapped at the slightest thing. Into this maelstrom, Dioryc strode, returning from his monthly patrol survey of Methas's lands. Methas was shouting at Binna for being too quick to remove her plate as she hadnt eaten the last bite of the cake, and Binna turned to Dioryc in tears, collapsing into his arms.
"What's all this?" he said, cradling Binna tenderly, looking to Methas sympathetically.
Binna whispered, "It's Keesa... she's gone."
Dioryc paled, turning to Methas for confirmation. The sorceress nodded. "She went out this morning to do her gardening and she never came back. My alarms didn't go off, and I can't find her in the land, or in the deathrealms for that matter. A sorcerer is hiding her, I believe." Methas spoke with overtly calm tones but the strain was overwhelming in her voice. Dioryc could tell her magical energies were almost exhausted; she looked a decade older than she usually did (although still far younger than her actual years) and had dark circles under her eyes.
Dioryc had no idea how he would do it, but he knew what he had to do. "I will get her back, M'Lady. To the ends of the world if need be."
Methas looked faintly surprised and doubtful for a moment... then nodded, seeming to recover some of her energy. "I will put our faith in you then, Ricky. I can give you magical protections, although they are harsh to apply, but you will need them." She paused, growing yet stronger, drawing on reserves she hadn't ever tapped. "You will bring her back to us. The consequences otherwise will be dire."
Dioryc found himself unable to breathe for a moment, as he realized what Methas was implying. Yet he then began to understand that her punishments would be unnecessary; he fully intended to rescue Keesa or to perish in the attempt. At that moment he comprehended his commitment to his new family, and still his throat was closed to air... finally he choked and gasped. Shaking his head to clear it, he simply nodded to Methas once.
"Prepare the steam room, Binna," Methas said, stroking Binna's head affectionately. Binna looked up at Methas with a wan smile, then jumped to her feet. She hugged Dioryc impulsively and ran off to the steam room to clean it and get the coals heating.
Methas had an odd, pensive yet indulgent smile on her own lips. She looked after Binna as the girl quickly set about her task, then took Dioryc's right hand in both hers. "Follow," she told him, then dropping his hand, started up the spiral stairs to her magical workroom. Dioryc followed, bemused and a bit intimidated though he would not show it, to the workroom where hitherto, he had not been permitted entry.
"I will place three spells on you," Methas said. "The first is a spell of sight, and will grant you the ability to see through all illusion and artifice of a visual nature. Do not count too heavily on it however, for many lies are in your mind rather than in your eyes. The second is a spell of thew, and will toughen and harden your body. Blows that would cleave a man in two will bounce from your bare chest. You will not be invulnerable but you will surprise greatly the first man to try to strike you down. The third spell is of speed, and it is very dangerous. I will set it on you in contingency only; you may invoke it by whispering the incantation "faster than the wind's steed," or if you are gagged or silenced, by digging your nail into your palm so hard it pierces the skin." She glanced at his hand, his nails trimmed below the quick. "It is a side effect of the contingency magic that the middle fingernail of your left hand will lengthen and sharpen somewhat for that purpose."
"These spells are among the oldest of their kind. The same effects can be achieved painlessly with sufficent preparation and ritual time. To achieve that we would need to spend a fortnight in ritual cleansing and chanting and fasting. We cannot spare the time. I can enact them all in three hours, but it will be hard." Methas looked into Dioryc's eyes. She saw raw will and determination, and beneath it, love for her and Binna and Keesa, and steadfastness to do what was necessary. She felt her strain ease, her heart reaching out to him, in gratitude and appreciation for his commitment and grace. He saw that in her and fell to his knees, his eyes still locked on hers.
"Methas, I cannot care how hard it is for me, I will do what I must to rescue Keesa." Dioryc felt fear but underneath the fear, adrenaline surged, even a kind of lust, as he imagined what he must go through now and the power it would grant him and the adventure that lay ahead with a princess as the prize. Far greater was this than even the excitement he had felt on his original quest to rescue the princesses. For now they were not symbols of the king's power to be won, but women he knew, loved, and felt responsibility for their wellbeing.
"I will tell you this as well, Ricky," Methas said quietly. "It will give me great pleasure to see your suffering in this working. Because it will display so clearly your strength, courage, tenacity and devotion, your masculine virtue. You will become more than a pretty toy and useful associate. You will become truly family. This will be your initiation." Methas watched him, contemplative. She saw expressions flicker over his face and turned away before she was overcome by emotion. She needed to remain clear; her work would be difficult and draining in this working as well.
Methas sent Dioryc to the steam room then. "Cleanse yourself quickly and return clean and naked," she told him. Dioryc walked to the steam room, his mind somehow completely clear and free, where Binna waited to help him undress, to wash him thoroughly and dry him carefully. She was silent throughout but he could sense her trust and worry in her touch. Once cleansed, Dioryc returned to the workroom. The marble floor felt cool under his bare feet, and a gentle draft chilled his naked body till every hair stood on end.
"Lie upon the stone altar. I will need to bind you to it for the first two spells." Methas watched as Dioryc climbed onto the block of gray granite stone, whose sides were thickly engraved in symbols and runes, some ornately inlaid in metals and gems, others stark in their plainness. He lay on his back, the stone supporting him only from shoulders to hips. Methas took thin gold cord and bound each of Dioryc's ankles to the stone, tying it directly to a golden loop in the base of the altar block. The metallic rope felt warm to the touch, just warmer than body temperature. Methas then bound Dioryc's wrists to the stone in a similar fashion. Finally she placed a golden torc around his neck, and tied the rope to a ring, through the loops on each side of the torc, and down to a ring at the other corner of the altar. Dioryc tested the strength and found he could barely move. The altar pressed uncomfortably into his back already, his neck felt overextended, and blood was rushing to his head as it leaned back somewhat. There was a soothing warmth, however, emanating from the ropes, that made it not so bad as he would have thought it would be. The places where the cord was tied at ankle, wrist, and neck, so far from feeling constricted of blood flow, felt invigorated and soothed by the touch of the magical golden cord.
"First I must put this ointment in your eyes," Methas said. "Keep them open, do not blink, until I tell you to close them. Once closed, do not let them open until I give that command." She reached for a small jar, tightly sealed, and took a dollop out with her fingers, closing the jar again and placing the dollop on the palm of her hand. For several minutes she incanted over the ointment, occasionally sprinkling this or that form of dust into it and watching the dust sink in, sparkling with magical energies. She scooped her index and middle fingers through the ointment, a generous dollop on each, and brought them toward Dioryc's open eyes. "Don't flinch," she warned. Very, very slowly her fingers approached his eyes, as if to touch each black, black pupil that gazed at her. Her fingers did not touch the eyes, but the ointment did, and as the ointment touched him Dioryc's fists clenched, his back arched in the intense stinging pain. Tears flowed from the corners of his eyes but he kept them open, though they were blinded now with the creamy white ointment filling them. The pain kept intensifying until he thought it could not hurt any more, and yet it did. At this point he screamed, hearing himself as if it were someone else's voice screaming.
From far away, or so it seemed, Dioryc heard Methas say, "Close your eyes." He did so, tightly, and the pain stabilized. It hurt no less, but also, it hurt no more, either. Slowly his body adapted to the feeling of burning in the eyes... the golden cord's soothing qualities competed and he felt more able to bear the pain. Methys began to chant again, her voice taking on a dreamy quality. Finally he heard her say, "Open your eyes." Dioryc opened them and the burning vanished. The room looked dimmer yet the corners glowed faintly. Methys leaned over him, and her face was lined in a way it had never seemed to be before, as if she truly were as old as she claimed; yet, despite that, she was actually more beautiful that she usually seemed, heartachingly beautiful. Dioryc stared, as his truesight never wavered.
"The first spell is completed," Methys said. Her voice sounded exactly the same and Dioryc felt himself somehow feeling centered and in place again, hearing it. Everything looked subtly different, yet he knew it was not. Only his vision had changed, not the world. Methys left his line of sight and, unable to move his head, strangely comfortable in the bonds, he focused on the wall and ceiling in his view.
Methys bathed her hands thoroughly in pure water before beginning to prepare the second spell. This one
Author's note: no, I never did finish that one