The Chronicles of Rapina, Chapters 49-52

Land Of Desolation
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[Rapina]049 Land of Desolation
[Rapina]050 Lady Doe
[Rapina]051 Leeched
[Rapina]052 A Night As Dark As Sable

[Rapina]049 Land of Desolation

Rapina screamed and shuddered as a massive orgasm shook
her sweat-soaked body.  She bucked her hips forward and
backward gasping with pleasure as she came.  She only
barely managed to touch the minds of the smiths at the
last second, sending a calming message at last.   The
bucking of the two half orcs began to slow to a saner
pace.  Rapina panted for breath as the two smiths
continued to plunge in and out of her, their glistening
pink spiral-ribbed cocks teasing each other through the
flesh between her vagina and rectum.  Her ride had been
a bit wilder than she had expected.  On her first
orgasm she had lost control and touched their minds
with her own lust.  Her second orgasm had carried a
message of alliance, and after that her orgasms had
become so intense she had done nothing but buck and
squeal with pleasure.

"Hruuuuuuunk!"  Daing grunted long and hard as he spent
yet again into the raging lusts of Chontral Melina.
His orgasm was long and intense.  Her charmed cunt
squeezed him rhythmically as if to milk the very last
drop of lust from his loins.  He could not remember
ever having creamed a woman so many times without a
rest.

Droplets of sweat shook from Tangzar's fatigued body as
he slapped his loins against Melina's generous jiggling
butt.   "Rreeeeeeehruunk!" He squealed as he jetted hot
cum deep into her clutching rump.  Her caress along the
sides of Daing's face was light with mystic precision
as she pushed her firm cheeks against Tzangzar arching
her back to receive the power of his spend.

"Clang... ... ... Clang... ... ...Clang."

Tzangzar collapsed on Melina's back and perked his
ears.   The clanging on the gate was spaced as though
the one knocking had grown fatigued with repeated
effort and had decided to clang the gate regularly but
much less frequently.  Tzangzar groaned and pried
himself off Melina's back.  His knees were a little
weak causing him to squat as he walked before he
recovered himself.  Tzangzar peered out the door and
across the courtyard.  "Chontral Oagmak is waiting.
There is someone with him carrying a suit of spiked
plate.  Perhaps it must be resized."

Each day for the next three days, Rapina was called
back to the smiths for fitting and to heat their
hardened rods in the forge of her loins.  The party
among the Ragebloods seemed to go in cycles of lust,
drunkenness and insensibility.  Rapina ate and drank
modestly, washed frequently and slaked the lusts of her
kahlorcs interminably.  Her grasp of orcish improved
from use and exposure to words and phrases she had not
yet learned. During the times most of the orcs slept,
Chontral Oagmak gave her additional instruction in
orcish.  He felt it was in the best interest of the
tribe for her to speak their language well.

By the morning of the fourth day, Kahl Rageblood had
drunk up the last of the alcoholic swill they had
bought in town.  The hung-over orcs began to pack up
their belongings at a pace that was too slow even to be
called leisurely.  By afternoon it was obvious camp
would not be struck until the following morning.  In
the afternoon, Krahl Hluk and two bodyguards took
Rapina to the armorers to retrieve the finished armor.

When they arrived, Hluk began to don his re-sized
armor.  Tzangzar showed Rapina how to put on and adjust
her foundation garments and armor pieces.  Since orcs
never stopped growing, provisions had been made on most
pieces of her armor for some adjustment in the fit.
Tzangzar had worked with a seamstress in town to
produce Rapina's foundation garments.  These included
dark elven style panties in a variety of colors that
featured reinforced openings at their crotches, and
matching bustiers that cupped the lower compass of her
breasts leaving her nipples accessible to roving lips.
Next there was a tunic and leggings of silk padding,
notable for the areas they did not cover.

The armor itself consisted of several parts.  The
helmet was a smooth deep dwarven plate helm with an
open face from the forehead down and a nose guard.  It
had flared edges at the bottom to keep the rain from
running down her neck and an optional dark-elven chain
veil that could go across her face from just below her
eyes.  The breastplate was a combination of a half
breastplate of deep dwarven metal that covered her
upper chest and back and dark-elven chainmail that
covered her down to her hips.  Her breasts were
contained in expandable banded cups that were built
into the breastplate.  A band of plate went over her
hips. Both her banded skirts and her chainmail leggings
attached to it.  The dark-elven chain leggings were cut
high towards her hips almost to the point of being a
strap at the hip and low towards her inner thighs so
that they left her crotch and butt uncovered beneath
her banded skirts.

"It is beautiful," Rapina beamed hugging each of the
smiths in turn once she had donned her new armor.  Both
of them looked very proud.

"It is only fitting that a Chontral's armor should fit
the quality of her chont," Tzangzar bowed.

"Chont schmont.  You shared the full measure of your
robust charms, juicy cunt and thucking prowess with us,
Melina; It was our pleasure to share the full measure
of our smithing prowess with you," Daing beamed.
"There is some extra mail and plate in the sack there
for repairs.  We want you to be protected, but we know
you will not always be near us when your armor is
damaged."

"Thank you mastersmith Daing, and thank you mastersmith
Tzangzar.  I will think of you whenever my armor
protects me and each time I put it on or take it off,
or thuck while wearing it."

Daing grinned like a pirate, "Hup, don't thank us yet,
the armor has not yet undergone its final testing.
Kahl Rageblood has given us the opportunity to see that
your armor has properly grown more robust to contain
your swollen udds, but the final test of your armor has
not yet been done."

Rapina blushed; the long party had left her breasts
flushed and swollen firmer and larger than ever before.


Hluk finished donning his re-sized spiked plate chief's
armor.  He moved around in it, and then nodded to the
smiths in satisfaction.

"Kahl Hluk, since you are Kahl of Rageblood, would you
like to be the first to test Chontral Melina's new
armor?  It is designed so she can practice her chont
while she and her partner are both armored."

Hluk grinned, "I will test it."

"My friend Tzangzar suggested this refinement.  Daing
pinched together two small studs spaced far apart just
above Rapina's right breast.  He pulled down the bands
over her breast so that they nested together to cup
only the lower part of her breast, exposing the lion's
share of it to the air.

"Clever," Khal Hluk smiled.  He kissed Rapina's swollen
right nipple then undid the cup over her left breast
and slid the bands down to land a kiss on her second
nipple.

"Most cunning." Rapina grinned.

Hluck removed his codpiece, lifted Rapina up, and laid
her over a large anvil standing in the courtyard.  He
lifted her banded skirt and watched the contour reverse
to hug her body.  "Good, even an orc with skirts in
front would be able to thuck Chontral Melina."  Hluck
entered Rapina and began to pump.  His spikes slid
harmlessly across her banded skirt.  "It is working."
Hluk quickened his pace and thrust more forcefully.
"Fine... armor... Uuuhhrrruuuuk!" Hluk grunted as he
jetted orc cum into Rapina's lively cunny.

Rapina moaned.  She felt so wonderfully stuffed with
energy but she gluttonously drank up what Hluck had to
offer nonetheless.

At that moment, there was a clanging at the gate.  It
was Chontral Oagmak with a huge escort.  The smiths
hastened to let him in.

"Chontral Melina, this is Drugarg, half ogre servant of
T'zar, high chontral of the orcs.  He brings a summons
from T'zar.  The High Chontral wishes to meet with the
chontrals of Rageblood."

Oagmak was usually impassive, but he seemed nervous.
Rapina hoped that was not a bad sign.

"Kahl Hluk, may we have your leave to go?  The High
Shaman's chont is great.  He is especially well known
for his curses.  We must not offend him by withholding
our presence."

"Then you must go, Chontral.  I will wait for you at
the camp," Hluk said.

"I do not know how long he will keep us, perhaps a long
time.  I have brought Chontral Melina's things and my
own.  If Kahl Rageblood leaves before we are able to
come, we will catch up with you."

Hluk nodded.  He embraced Oagmak.  May the lie of the
bones be with you, Chontral.

"And you Kahl," Oagmak said.

Oagmak turned to Rapina, "We must pack your armor and
weapons, it would be an offense to come into the abode
of the High Chontral obviously prepared for war.  Since
our tribe is soon to leave, will the High Chontral
forgive us our luggage?"

Drugarg grunted and nodded in the affirmative, "High
Chontral T'zar has a place you can leave it."

Oagmak nodded, "Then get into some clothing quickly
Chontral Melina.  We must not keep High Chontral T'zar
waiting."

The journey to the high shaman's abode took some time.
Whenever Drugarg got ahead or was preoccupied with the
trail, Oagmak whispered to Rapina in the common tongue
of humans.  Rapina in turn whispered back.

"The high shaman is very powerful.  I fear him.  He
acts in unpredictable ways, but we must obey him.  He
is very powerful and his curses have a very long
reach."

"Is he an orc?" Rapina asked.

"He is half orc, half dark elf like Tzangzar, but much
older and darker," Oagmak said.

"Does he have servitors?" Rapina asked.

"Very few.  He does not need them.  Everyone is so
afraid of his magic they obey," Chontral Oagmak said.

"Does he have a woman?" Rapina asked.

"He used to have one, a slave, a young Avengene
noblewoman.  The rumor is he cared about her, so he
sacrificed her to gain some new spell or power.  She
would not have been sufficient as a sacrifice unless he
cared about her a great deal," Chontral Oagmak said.

"Eeuww, Uhoh," Rapina gulped.

"If I had known before we came to Joodig, I..." Oagmak
low voice trailed off.

"Whatever happens, it is not your fault.  You could not
have known," Rapina said.

The tunnels Drugarg led them through were long and
winding.  They crossed steamy water several times and
the air grew warmer as they approached the lair of the
high shaman.  Soon they could not see farther than ten
feet in front of them because of the steam that
billowed through the caverns.  Rapina wondered how
Drugarg could find his way.

Suddenly Drugarg stopped and pushed a stone slab into
the wall.  Once past the slab they reached an area
where bones and beads hung from the walls and ceilings
in strange constellations.

"You can put your tings dere in dat alcove next to da
chest Chontral Oagmak, and Chontral Melina, you can put
your tings on top of dat chest," Drugarg rumbled.

Once through a couple of partitions made of collages of
bones and beads, they came to a small raised pool with
a thick border.  The odd half-orc that squatted near
the pool waved as they approached.  Rapina looked at
him.  He was beefier even than Tzangzar, but he was
blacker as well, his hair, his nose, his skin, all of
him.

"High Shaman, T'zar pointed to a small cup sitting on
the edge of the pool, "Chontral Oagmak."  He pointed to
another cup on the edge of the pool opposite Oagmak's
cup, "Chontral Melina." Then he sat down in front of
his cup.  Welcome Chontrals.  Let us drink, then we
will speak.  T'zar tossed the contents of his cup down
his throat.  Oagmak did the same.  Rapina hesitated for
a second and then followed suit.  How is your chont
coming, Oagmak?   "Slow master.  I can cast the bones,
but I lack practical powers.  Were it not for Chontral
Melina, the Ragebloods would have lost our chief and
other warriors as well to the wounds of Avengene."

"Chontral Melina, you wear upon your neck the jool with
no clasp that you cannot remove.  It makes you slave to
a master.  I am the high shaman, sworn enemy of
Avengene.  I can help you; come with me," Chontral
T'zar said.

T'zar led the way through the steamy chambers and
through a curtain of bone into a room that was eerily
dry as though no steam could pass its hanging of strung
teeth.  There were many shelves cut into the living
rock walls of the chamber and these were filled with
vials and tiny boxes and baskets of herbs and reagents.
T'zar took a small vial of black liquid and a brush of
black bristles and motioned Rapina to him.  "Hold your
hair back, Chontral Melina.  Rapina complied.

High Shaman T'zar began moaning utterances as he
painted the thick black liquid on her jeweled collar.
He painted the entire thing except for two narrow
bands, one below each of her ears.  He then corked the
bottle and took Rapina's hand.  Follow me quickly.  He
ran, nearly pulling Rapina off her feet.  Oagmak
followed.  He stood Rapina in the middle of a room
across from a pool filled with a multitude of tiny
colored stones or beads.  He stopped and steadied her
and then began droning an incantation while motioning
Oagmak to stand behind Rapina.

The black substance had dried and now began to crackle
and fissure.  "Oagmak grasp, pull and lift just as I
do."   T'zar grasped Rapina's collar in the front and
pulled.  Oagmak did the same in the rear.  The bands on
the collar below her ears that had not been coated by
the dark liquid stretched like hot taffy.  The orcs
stretched and lifted the collar right off over her
head.  "Now let go."  The high shaman told Oagmak and
then quickly tossed the collar into the pool on the
other side of the room as if it had just stung him.
Rapina could see the collar return to its former shape
in mid air, but when it hit the water, the water
churned and bubbled so that she could no longer see it.


"You see there is nothing to it.  Now let us return to
my chambers, we have much to speak about," High Shaman
T'zar said.  When they returned they found the cups had
already been refilled.  "Let us drink."

Each chontral tossed down his or her cup.  Rapina
wrinkled her nose.  The first cup had tasted something
like the swill the Ragebloods had been drinking, but
this second cup was distinctly bitter.  The others did
not seem to notice.

"Now, Oagmak, your chont is worthless to save the
warriors of Kahl Rageblood.  Many do not respect you.
They say your powers are weak and worthless.  You are
as a deep pool covered by strong ice.  Your chont can
be seen but not reached.  You might practice for years
and never see more than your reflection.  The ice must
be broken.  Few living could ever give that priceless
gift to you.  Smear this ointment in your eyes.  T'zar
gave a small stone vial to Oagmak and then began
droning incantations as Oagmak did as he was bidden.

T'zar looked deep into Oagmak's dilated pupils, "The
coming moments will be etched into your memory.  You
will never forget them for as long as you live.  T'zar
began casting another spell, droning and moving his
hands in bizarre patterns.   T'zar then took a small
knife from his pocket and made a cut down each of his
forearms.  Blood welled from the cuts.  "I have imbued
you with the ability to cast a healing spell one time,
one time.  Use my power now and remember everything,
everything, the shaping of the magic, the words, the
inflections, everything!  Nothing can ever be forgotten
from this moment, nothing."

Oagmak blinked and began casting, the incantations, the
power it all seemed so simple, so unforgettable.  At
the end he placed his hands on T'zar's right arm and
let the power flow.  The cut shrank and disappeared.

T'zar smiled for a moment, "Now repeat the spell from
memory.  Use your own power this time."

"But I," Chontral Oagmak stammered.

Tzar's eyes drilled into Oagmak's soul, "Do it, you
will succeed."

Oagmak remembered; how could he forget?  He wove the
words and gestures and shaped the power.  The spell was
etched perfectly into his mind and now he etched it yet
again, this time his own chont sealed the wound on High
Chontral T'zar's left arm.

Welcome to the circle of power, Oagmak.  Tzar gestured
at Rapina, "One priceless gift for another."  T'zar
took Oagmak's nerveless hand and pressed several gems
into it. "For Kahl Hluk," he said.  Practice your spell
at least once a day this month.  You may go now
Chontral Oagmak."

Oagmak looked at Rapina.  A tear rolled down his cheek.
He would never forget this moment; he could never
forget it.  He had gained and lost so much.  Oagmak
walked out as if in a trance.  When he reached the room
with his gear Drugarg handed it to him and then took
his hand and led him back to Jooldig.

With glassy eyes, Rapina witnessed what had transpired
without reaction.  When T'zar lifted her and set her in
the center of the pool she only stared at him as he
arranged her body in a seated position.  He took a
chime and rattles from a nearby alcove and began to
dance around her.   A sound like the rushing of water
filled her ears.  She felt like a zombie, she could
hardly think.  She closed her eyes to concentrate but
her thoughts were as sluggish as the black, frozen
river she was seeing in her mind.  Frozen? No sluggish,
viscous.  Her world was dark oranges and browns; the
terrain was barren and rocky and there was no sky.
Instead, a dark orange mist offered a small bit of
light and vistas of barren stone lost in the distance.
A woman came to her, but as she drew near Rapina knew
she was not a woman.  Her eyes were as flame red as her
hair; she was translucent and non-corporieal.  When she
saw Rapina she stepped *into* her.

"We meet again child, and this time you have no power
to thwart me!" Vulvilea growled.

The woman was in her mind; she was taking over.
Instinctively Rapina struggled but she felt so
sluggish.  That voice, that voice in her mind.  She
knew it.  Rapina gasped.  It was the lust spirit.  The
lust spirit from the dreamstone agate she had, had as a
child.

Vulvilea's laugh was light yet sinister, oh yes, yes I
can feel your power T'zar.  The child is fighting; help
me.  Bring me forth.

"Nooooo!"  Rapina began to cry and shake.  She looked
around her at the desolate landscape for a moment.
What could she do?  Where was she?

Vulvilea opened her living eyes, the same ones that had
belonged to Rapina a moment ago and smiled.

"You said the instant you appeared..." Tzar held a
brazier of smoldering herbs under her nose and watched
her breath deeply.

"Ah, my head is clearing.  Yes, yes spin an illusion of
your Bellany in my mind...  Yes I see.  Vulvilea felt
Rapina's breasts.  The reserves were more than
sufficient for the task T'zar required of her.  Mmmm,
yes this should be simple enough, first her hair, all
of it...  Rapina's hair began to curl then it
lengthened and fell to waves as the color lightened
from black, to deep brown to a ruddy auburn.  Now the
face as I promised... Her green eyes turned hazel and
changed shape as the features of her face altered
themselves.  Now I must hear her voice in my mind,
simple enough... the bones of her neck altered to
resemble the girl in her mind as her vocal cords
changed to produce the girl's voice.   Vulvilea shifted
the structure of her legs and arms, her abdomen and
chest.  Only minor adjustments were necessary since the
two women had been approximately the same size.  Are
you sure you want me to change her butt and breasts?
Rapina's are so much more delicious," Vulvilea said.

The high shaman nodded.

"Very well but it is better for energy reserves if the
mass of flesh is more generous.  Rapina has her
reserves up here.   Vulvilea squeezed her generous
breasts as she changed the nipples to look like the
woman's in the illusion.  It needs to be a soft area
that can expand, the butt, the belly or breasts what
part of her would you like augmented.  I will shrink
the rest to your lady's proportions...  "Gaah!  The
bitch is fighting me again.  I cannot concentrate; I
will have to do the rest later.  You have her visage
and more; the letter of my promise is fulfilled.  I
wear the face of Bellany Norwit.  I will fulfill the
spirit of our bargain when this headstrong bitch Rapina
is sealed in her grave!"

T'zar nodded and tugged Vulvilea's arm.  They ran
through several tapestries of bone.  Then they entered
a room with a pentacle etched into the stone floor and
colored with gold leaf.

For a moment, Rapina was lost in her tears, but she had
never gained anything by crying.  She had to pull
herself together.  She had to fight, and fight she did
as futile as it seemed.  She could hear Vulvilea
talking to T'zar, "Seal me in my grave?"  Rapina's
sluggish mind grasped the phrase and then she realized.
This was the land of the dead.  This was where the lust
spirit Vulvilea had gone when she died, all except the
bit of her that she had stored in the dreamstone.
Vulvilea's lord had been killed as had she, and they
had gone to land of the dead... and its lord was...

T'zar pushed Vulvilea down onto the pinnacle.  "Your
hands," he said closing manacles over her wrists and
then moving to her ankles.

Vulvilea glared at the shaman.

"The spell involves grave pain, but you must not break
the circle," He said as he manacled her ankles to the
floor."

Vulvilea gasped.  Suddenly her eyes filled with fear,
"Hurry!" She screamed.

Mortaebius was the lord of the dead and this was his
land!  Rapina realized as she began a prayer of
invocation known only to select priests and a single
naughty deaconess:

"Mortaebius, Sovereign of the dead, thy reign is
threatened - in thine own kingdom. Hail Mortaebius Lord
of the dead, I invoke thee!"


"Thy dead escape the grave by a profane hand."
Hail Mortaebius, spirit of mortomancy, I invoke thee!"


"Thy power is usurped by an untamed spirit."
Hail, Mortabius soul of the dead, I invoke thee!"

"Thy divinity is profaned! Hail Mortaebius, God of the
dead, I invoke thee!"

Tzar retrieved a vial from a nearby shelf and poured
the effervescent liquid it contained into the
pinnacle's channel.  He flicked a mystic spark from his
fingertip and set the fluid ablaze.

Pain joined fear as the flames began to sear her
without visible damage.  "Quickleeeee!"  She wailed.

T'zar raised an eyebrow and took up his rattles.  He
began to dance around the flaming pentacle, droning and
squealing as he danced an intricate pattern...

"Treacherous snake! Vulvilea writhed in pain.  I know
that ritual.  You seek to banish me!  Aaaiii!  Vulvilea
wailed as the flames burned her without apparent
damage.  "You have summoned me hither to change the
girl's body, and now you seek to banish me?  What!?  Do
you seek to replace my spirit with the spirit of Belany
Norwit?   Oh you soft fool!  You seek to bring her back
from the dead after you sacrificed her.  Your love for
her blinds you to your folly!"

Rapina completed the prayer of invocation.  She did not
think about the fact that she should not have known it.
There had been a locking cabinet in Guardian Rames'
room.  She was a patient and curious girl; she had
checked it every night they made love after he fell
asleep.  One night she found it had been left open.
One of his priestly books was inside.  She had studied
some of the prayers it held adding them to the
boundless number she enjoyed impressing Guardian Thane
with.  Using the prayer of a full priest of The Shroud
in Mortaebius' own domain might mean her death, but
what choice did she have?  She was nearly dead already
and T'zar and Vulvilea were busy making it a permanent
condition.  Rapina was too busy invoking death to
contemplate death, and then she felt...death, pervasive
death, all-encompassing death.  Death welled up in her
from nowhere, from everywhere, lifeless and numb and
final.  Death was she.  She was death.  Death.

T'zar danced and whirled and groaned his incantations.
He had nearly completed the circle when he felt a
presence.  He did not let it break his concentration.
The room began to rattle.  An earthquake?  No, it was
only the bones, all the bones began to rattle in
unison, the sound was deafening.  High Shaman T'zar's
concentration was not rattled with the bones.  When
Vulvilea's eyes turned to black holes, his
concentration still did not waver.

He was about to complete his dance, just another
syllable.  A bone claw separated itself from the
convulsing mobile across the room, bolted forth and
pierced his throat.  The syllable was left unspoken,
the rhythm broken.  Vulvilea's chains rusted and turned
to dust.  Her stolen flesh began to putrefy and rot off
her bones as she raised upright without having to first
get to her knees.  Her left hand touched his heart.  He
felt his power, his life and his soul wrenched from his
rotting body.  All he could do was scream, a long
silent scream.

----+======+++======+----

[Rapina]050 Lady Doe

As the shaman's last warding spell faded, the shadows
beyond the pentacle stirred and disgorged a lithe
skeleton.  She scouted briefly and then Rames appeared
followed by Thane dressed in his mortancer robes.

"It was Mortaebius or one of his greatest minions, I
feel sure of it.  The presence, did you feel it
Elizabetta?" Thane's deathly voice rasped through his
robes.

"The master or his hand," the skeleton nodded in the
affirmative."

"For us to have felt the presence while on the shadow
plane and in Jooldig as they appear to call the orc
town, it had to be powerful.  It was fortunate that we
picked this time to map the caverns and search for
Rapina."

"Rapina!"  Rames ran to the pentacle and lifted the
woman who lay there.  Her left hand had been pushed
against the ribcage in the midst of a pile of blackened
bones. Uh! Rames nearly dropped the woman when he
realized her dead hair was a dull, ruddy auburn. Her
clothes fell to dust as he lifted her.  He turned her
over in his arms. Her face was not Rapina's. Much of
her hair fell out and joined her clothing as he turned
her, yet she was breathing, just barely breathing.

"Unfortunately, it is not Rapina," Thane said.  "She
does appear to be just barely alive, however. Her skin
is a mess, as though it had been sorely damaged and
then partially restored."

"But her size and her behind is a lot like Rapina's,
without seeing her face I thought..." Rames choked back
a tear.

"Odd, she is wearing Rapina's mage light, but there is
no question that she is a different young woman," Thane
said.  Hold her steady. I will have to bestow a portion
of my life force on her or I believe she will die
shortly. Thane droned arcane syllables and shaped his
bestowal spell with mystic gestures. He placed one hand
over the girl's eyes and another just below her ample
breasts and poured a portion of his life force into
her. He shook himself against the pain and then drank a
healing potion to restore his life force. It was a
testament to the seriousness of her wounds that she did
not wake up. "Strange, it appears that the girl did the
draining of the blackened skeleton. I do not understand
why that would have caused nearly lethal damage to
herself.  Necromancy! Thane exclaimed as he looked
around.

"Hmm?" Rames asked.

Thane examined the blackened skeleton. "I believe this
was a living man or orc not long ago. Now it appears as
if he were long dead and then some. The spell used to
drain the life out of him must have been exceedingly
powerful because I can still see the dweomer of
necromancy clearly by using mage sight. There is a
powerful residue on the girl's left palm as well. She
looks awfully young to be a necromancer with such
astonishing power. I'd say she's about Rapina's age,
wouldn't you, Karmoz?

Rames sniffed but pulled himself together, "Yes
Mortancer Kroz."

"And you are right; her rump is like Rapina's but the
shape is not quite the same because their hips are
shaped just a bit differently. She does appear to be
approximately the same height and weight as Rapina and
her build is similar.  I believe we saw Rapina's pack
on the way in, sitting on a trunk. Thane collected
generous samples of the dust of the skeleton in several
vials as though he felt there might be some use for it.
After sweeping up most of the skeleton's dust, he
inspected the pinnacle. "The chains appear to have
rusted through; again I see the aura of necromancy. The
room verily reeks with it." After several more minutes
of investigation Thane packed up his samples. Let us
see if that really was Rapina's gear. Bring the girl.
This is no place for a human woman."

Thane looked at his ring, "Astonishing."

"What is it?" Rames asked.

"Rapina's collar must be within a hundred yards or so
of us to be faintly registering in spite of the fact
that we are so deeply underground, come," Thane said.

It took several false turns and some circuitous wending
but at last Thane was led to the edge of a pool in a
nearby room. There, sitting amongst a plethora of beads
and shiny stones was Rapina's collar. "This pool is
enchanted to drain away magic, but I believe the death
of the lord of this place has diminished its power,
just as the wards that once protected the lair from
access via the shadow plane dissipated as we waited.
Even so, had we not been so very close, the collar
would never have registered. The signal is very weak
while the collar is in the pool. Thane requisitioned a
large jawbone from one of the nearby hangings and used
it to fish the collar out of the pool. Once it was out
of the water he touched his ring to it. "I think it is
all right, but the fact that it is here may mean that
the lord of this lair knew how to remove it without
harm to its wearer or himself," Thane said.

Rames shook his head.

"I am sorry, Karmoz. My hopes were dashed as well. Let
us investigate the pack we saw that looked like
Rapina's," Thane said.

A few minutes later the group had found the appropriate
room and Rames was going through a trunk of items while
Thane looked through a sack and the pack he had seen on
top of it. Elizabetta stood guard.

Thane held up a green silken bustier, "It bears the
craftsmanship of the clothier we use in Argos. This is
Rapina's pack. I recognize it and many of the items
here."

Rames held up a letter he had found in the trunk with
several dresses and an assortment of women's finery,
"It is from Bellany Norwit to her Mother, Lady Eleanor
Norwit. The stationery bears a baronetial watermark. It
is written about the start of a trip to a school in
Bristol, but she never finished it. Are you familiar
with Norwit?

"Not particularly, but I believe Rapina is from that
particular baronety of Avengene. Baronet Norwit keeps a
small baronety for the Marquis in northwest Avengene.
Being on the western border of Avengene's territory, he
is one of Daelrath's neighbors, but his keep is too far
south for the two of them to have had much regular
interaction. "I think our giants severely cramped
Norwit's style last year," Thane chuckled.

"Yes, the ruined fort where we lost Rapina was in his
territory," Rames said.

Thane nodded.

Rames held up an undergarment from the trunk. "There is
no way that woman would fit in this garment.  The bust
is much too small."

"You have a point, but being a teenager she may not
have been fully developed when she arrived here. Then
again I agree her bust is very like Rapina's but the
nipples are different. Rapina's were more distracting,
don't you think?" Thane asked.

Rames nodded, "I've seen plenty of women in my day and
very few of them are built like Rapina. This girl is
though, but it's an odd coincidence."

"Hmm, let me look at her aura. Thane shook his head.
This woman's aura is more like Rapina's than it is like
most of the normal women's I have seen, but it is
certainly not exactly like Rapina's.  I cannot make a
positive identification, either her aura is strange but
normal for her, or perhaps there is a subtle magic that
pervades her aura everywhere.

Rames carefully turned the girl over. "Is the magic
uniform everywhere?"

Thane looked carefully. "It is all so subtle and mixed
with the powerful residue of the event that transpired
at the pentacle. I would have to say that her aura is
not quite the same over the curve of her rump as if
less subtle magic had been used on it than had been
used elsewhere. It could be I am only picking up
residue of a recent spell that affected this woman's
body, but why not so much on the rump? I do not know,"
Thane said. "Turn her over again."

Rames complied and Thane studied her breasts.

"Again here I believe I see somewhat more residue on
her nipples than on the rest of her breasts and then
more again on her chest and arms.  I will admit that
there are some elements of her aura very like Rapina's,
and Rapina has an unusual aura, subtly different than
any normal woman I have looked at.  I am sure it is the
inheritance she gained from the lust spirit that
distinguishes her. I may be wrong that there are
similarities in this woman; perhaps I am thinking
wishfully in my interpretations. I am a necromancer,
not an enchanter.  My mage sight is not as sensitive as
it could be.  In any case this young woman is likely to
wake up, but we cannot simply show our faces and ask
her if she knows us. We may wish she were Rapina, but
it is far more likely that she is Bellany Norwit,"
Thane said.

Rames nodded gravely.

"I suggest our only course of action is to drop her at
a leech in the northern reaches of Norwit and observe
her remotely. The likelihood is that she is Miss Norwit
and will try to contact her parents immediately. If she
does then we will know we were engaging in wishful
thinking, if not then we shall see. Since she has no
hair or nails I will take blood and a skin sample from
one of her feet to aid in locating her. We will leave
her off with her mundane possessions. We can pawn any
valuables we do not recognize as Rapina's just as a
couple of adventurers might if seeking remuneration for
a rescue, but without wanting to face the possibility
of a nobleman's wrath for being mistaken for the ones
who kidnapped her in the first place. We will keep any
items we know belonged to Rapina..."

As he listened Rames was fiddling with the armor in the
sack next to the pack Thane had been looking at. "Look
at this, the banded armor breast cover nests down to
expose the breast," Rames said.

"For a nursing mother wearing armor?" Thane asked
dubiously.

Both began examining the armor more carefully.

"The skirts lift quite convincingly," Thane observed.

"Look at the way the tops of the leggings are cut,"
Rames said.

Thane held up a pair of silk panties with a reinforced
opening at the crotch. "This is not something the
daughter of an Avengene baronet would wear," Thane
said.

"It looks newly made, or at least newly assembled,"
Rames said.

"It looks like something Rapina might find useful, and
it is her size. Perhaps she did better with the orcs
than we had feared. In any case we will retain the
armor. Norwit would dispose of it in an instant," Thane
said.

"I have never seen finer chain, and the alloy of the
plate is not one I recognize. What of...? Rames moved
the chest away from the wall. He reached down and held
up Rapina's weapons belt with her rapier, main gauche
and several pouches."

Thane smiled. "I wondered where that might be.  No
doubt the new armor takes advantage of some metals
found only deep underground.  If this armor belonged to
Rapina, then she must have been here recently.  The
state of her collar would tend to reinforce that
hypothesis.  Yet we made a thorough search of this maze
from the shadow plane and came up with nothing more
than what we have thus far investigated."

Rames nodded as he began stuffing finery back into the
chest. "We better hurry; whoever this young woman is,
she cannot stay unconscious forever."

"Agreed," Thane said.

----+======+++======+----


[Rapina]051 Leeched

A warrior dressed in full plate and leather armor
soiled with the grime of battle walked into the leech's
clinic in the largest town in northern Norwit. He set
an unconscious woman on a bench in the waiting room.

"I am sorry, I am closing for the day," Leech Fraksen
said.

Rames dumped half the money from a small purse into his
hand, transferred it to a one of his belt pouches and
then tossed the half empty purse to the leech.  The
full helmet Rames wore further modified his disguised
voice. "Hold, leech.  There be a trunk full o' ladies
finery I left at th' back door.  Me an' me buddies, we
foun' dis 'ere wench in an orc lair up north.  She was
the most well-spoken orc slave wench we ever did meet.
She helped us getting around the lair some but she
warn't much of a warrior. She got zapped by a orc
shaman when we took da heart of deir hideaway.  She
gots some things that makes us figure she's noble born
only we don't want some lord blamin' us for stealin'
'er, so we're leaving 'er with you.  We pawned 'er
jewels at jacinth's pawn shop to float 'er rescue and
medical fees.  If you find 'er daddy, maybe 'e'll
grease yer palm too."

"But you can't just leave her here," Leech Fraksen
said.

Rames grabbed the leech's lapels and lifted him off the
floor. "Listen mister, the only thing I'm good at is
killin', understand?"

The leech nodded in terror.

"Healers are supposed to be merciful, or at least
greedy.  You go about one or the other an' leave me ta
killin.' It took me long enough ta haul the wench down
this far South. I'm not waitin' around tryin' ta find
'er dad and see if 'e likes me, understand?  Now you
jus' do your duty as a leech and let me go."

"Yes sir, I ah, of course. I'll take care of
everything. Mercy is my middle name." The leech
clutched the purse tightly.

"Gud luck then." Rames set the man down, waved briefly
and stalked out of the clinic.

----

It was nearly a day later when the doctor heard the
first moans of pain and actual consciousness from the
mystery woman's room.

"Uhhuuuuhhh." The patient moaned.  It seemed like she
had been dead, or dreaming of a bleak rocky landscape
and a dingy orange sky but she must have just been
asleep for a very long time.  Sometimes she seemed to
escape the dingy netherworld to wander through the busy
rooms of what appeared to be a small clinic, but it was
impossibly crowded.  It could not have been real unless
there was a war on.  Maybe she had dropped from
exhaustion.  Every muscle in her body ached, even quite
a few she did not know she had. Her left arm felt dead.
It throbbed with a dull pain that was at its very worse
in the palm of her left hand. She was not sure which
hurt more, her body or her head. They seemed to be
having a contest to see which could torment her more.

"Welcome back young lady. You are safe here. My name is
Leech Fraksen, what is yours?"

"It's, uh. I'm sorry?" The young woman mumbled as her
almond-shaped hazel eyes fluttered open.  She was in a
clinic's sick room.  It seemed somehow familiar to the
clinic in her dreams, yet it was so empty.

"Your name, girl, what's your name?" Leech Fraksen
asked.

The woman seemed to think for a while, "I... I don't
know," She said.

"Have you suffered a blow to the head?" Leech Fraksen
asked.

"My head hurts badly. Everywhere hurts badly. My left
arm feels numb but it still hurts badly, especially the
palm of my hand. My eyes seem okay, at least I can
see."

"I will have to examine you," Leech Fraksen said.

"Okay, just don't expect me to move anything for you.
Every single solitary muscle aches horribly."  The
vibrations from the impact of her large shield against
a practice dumby echoed through her memory as she
relived a fragment of her past.  After the hours of
martial drill her muscles ached.  The touch of Leech
Fraksen's examination broke her out of her reverie.
Her skin was far too tender to enjoy the touch of a
man.

Leech Fraksen examined the lady.  He could not help
raising an eyebrow.  She had a figure most of his
female patients would have sold their souls for.  On
the other hand, she seemed to have some sort of
bruising over her entire body except for a hand-sized
area across her eyes and another hand-sized patch just
under her breasts.  The second patch had somehow spread
upwards to encompass her breasts while still leaving
the skin between them and elsewhere around the intact
area as damaged as it was across the rest of her body.

If he had to guess he would have to say that some sort
of magical healing had been applied to the two
unusually intact areas, but that it had been inadequate
to do more than, at least temporarily, save the young
lady's life.  He might have thought she had been
severely beaten, except that the bruising was too even
and uniform to have been done with any sort of body
part or instrument.  In addition her hair had fallen
out and was now growing back in.  Currently it was no
longer than the beard of a man with five o'clock
shadow.

"Do you remember the adventurer who brought you here?"
Leech Fraksen asked.

"There was an adventurer?" The lady asked.

"I'll take that as a no.  What about being abducted by
orcs, do you remember that?" Leech Fraksen asked.

The woman squinted.  Her memory was full of dreams and
nightmares from before she had come to.  It seemed she
must have been awake before now.  The room she was in
seemed familiar, but where were all the wounded
stumping around in pain trying to get the doctor's
attention?  "Not dreams, I need memories," the woman
thought to herself. A fragment of her past surfaced
revealing a dozen lusty orcs standing around her in
rapt attention as she lay in a puddle of their cum
hungrily taking one after another. The woman blushed,
"I am sorry, I cannot remember much, but I am pretty
sure the orcs had me.  Do you know who I am?" She
asked.

"No, but your manner of speech is educated.  The
adventurer that dropped you said he and his buddies had
found you captive in an orc lair.  He said the spell of
an orc shaman had hit you.  He left a trunk of things.
If you like I can search them to see if there is any
clue to your identity."

Her memory wandered to reveal a shaman enspelling two
familiar warriors. The Norseman she recognized as one
of the bath-masters from her recent martial The
warriors vibrated in place unable to move effectively
because of the rattling spell of a troll shaman.  Her
memory held a troll shaman not an orc shaman?  Other
trolls attempted to carve her friends into meat.  The
scene shifted and she was caressing the mottled skin of
the troll shaman. She took hold of his mighty erection
and engulfed it between her legs.  Uuuurrgh, the woman
groaned in pain as the leech continued to examine her.
"You can check the trunk if you want.  I can only
remember bits and pieces. They don't even make sense.
It's like trying to remember a dream."

"I will apply clove oil to your skin and give you
something to help with the pain in your head. My wife
will be in to help you with your toilette." Leech
Fraksen said.

"Thank you," The woman whispered wanly.
---

The next day the Leech talked to the young woman after
he finished with his other patients.

"There is a man in town that draws. He offered to
sketch your picture so we could pass it around at
church and see if anyone knows you. My wife will also
search the trunk full of belongings the adventurer
dropped off for clues today. Would you like that?"
Leech Fraksen asked.

"I-I guess so. Why can I remember how to talk if I
can't remember my own name?" the young woman asked.

"Don't worry miss, I've heard of this sort of thing
before, even seen it to one extent or another.
Sometimes it happens with head injuries or in cases of
enormous stress, shock or trauma. The mind seems to
store knowing kinds of things and doing kinds of things
in two different areas. You can forget what you know,
and still know how to do what you did. Most people
eventually recover. Sometimes doing something you did
before you forgot yourself can help bring back the
knowing associated with the doing," the leech said.

"Thank you Leech Fraksen," the woman whispered.

-----

Two days later it was Saturday, and Mark Reins came
with his charcoals and parchment. Charlotte Fraksen
finished helping the new patient clean up and then
showed Reins in.

"So you're the mystery girl. How are those mage wounds
coming?" Reins asked.

"Slowly mending. I am glad you are not painting. I
don't think my skin is supposed to be yellow and blue,"
the young woman said.

"You look beat up for sure, but I won't draw your
bruises and I'll add some more hair. Artistic license
is better than makeup." Reins smiled as he began to
draw. I shouldn't be more than an hour," he said.

A distant look came to the woman's eyes as a daydream
or fragment of memory surfaced.  A robed man spoke to
her from the past, "Makeup is an art, with a bit of
rouge and shading we make this dead woman look nearly
alive."  The woman snapped back to the present, "Er,
It's okay, take your time. Now that I'm doing a little
better I enjoy company," the woman said.

"Your nostrils are moving, do you smell something?"
Mark Reins asked.

"It's just a tingle I get." She did not add that it
seemed to happen primarily when men were present.  It
did not make a lot of sense to her yet.

Reins worked steadily until he had completed a
portrait. "There you are."

The woman squinted and cocked her head, "Do I look like
that?" She asked.

"I've been told my portraits are very good," Reins
said.

"Oh, um, it's just that I have not seen myself since,
since before the spell." The woman looked decidedly
confused.

Reins held up his index finger and spoke into the other
room, "Mrs. Fraksen, do you have a mirror I could
burrow. The patient wants to see if I have done well
and cannot remember what she looks like."

Mrs. Fraksen brought a mirror and the woman stared at
herself for the longest time, tracing her fingers over
her face and looking at her very short reddish auburn
hair. Finally she looked at the portrait again.

"It is a good likeness.  Thank you, Mark. "I cannot
believe the things I cannot remember."

"Or some of the things I can," she added silently
within her mind.

"It's my pleasure, uh, well whatever your name might
be. The Vindicator enjoins us to help those in need,"
Reins said.

The woman squinted as she heard a voice from her
fragmented past, "Your sins are grave for one so
young." The voice was that of a priest wandering the
halls of her memory. He had the eyes of madness." The
woman blinked, "Uh of course," she mumbled.


-----

A week later the clattering of hooves filled the lane
outside the leech's office. The movement of armed men
could be heard outside and several came in.

A man clad in armor strode into her room.

"Bellany! It is you!" The man looked to be about to
pick her up and hug her but the leech put his arm
before the man's chest.

"Forgive me milord, the lady is bruised to the bone
nearly everywhere on her body. Were you to hug her, the
pain would be excruciating," Leech Fraksen cautioned.

Bellany put her head in her hands, "I am so sorry. I am
more than half-dead and everywhere bruised. I do not
remember anyone. I cannot even remember my own name."

You are Bellany Norwit, my daughter. You are in Norwit
and I am Lord Darl Norwit the Baronet of Norwit under
Marquis Avengene. We were sure you were dead.  Leech
Fraksen said an adventurer brought you in.  He lifted
the leech right off the floor and told him he was only
good at killing and that the leech ought to handle the
mercy for him," Norwit chuckled.

The ache in her left palm against her forehead
intensified and an eerie scene filled Ballany's mind.
She was looking at the specter of herself standing in a
barren yet somehow familiar landscape. "Daddy is a very
busy man. I spent much more time with mother but he
taught me chess one year on the eve of the vindicator's
birth."

Bellany looked up at Lord Norwit, "I am sorry I don't
remember you.  Are you sure I am your daughter?" She
asked.

The pain in Lord Norwit's eyes was evident, as if his
daughter's words had stabbed him through the heart.  I
am sure you are my daughter.  "You have grown some, and
filled out quite a bit, but I know my own daughter's
face.   Early last fall you were making the journey to
the Barony of Bristol to go to a prestigious boarding
school. Your guards and coach were overcome by orcs. I
feel so badly.  Just a day after you left I received
word that two of our forts had fallen to orcs and
giants.  Usually we would have known earlier, but this
group of orcs was uncommonly efficient.  Not a single
scout escaped the night of the attacks.  The orcs took
your carriage.  We found the remains of the guards.

Things got so bad that year I had to request aid from
Marquis Avengene several times.  We nearly lost our
keep a few weeks later.  That orc tribe nearly broke
us. Reinforcements from the south arrived just in time.
Thankfully, Avengene later struck up an important
alliance with Lord Heinrich Li'Yieraun and his mage,
Nordula.  With the aid of a mage for transportation and
the power of the highest priests of the Vindicator, we
put many of the giants into their graves. We had never
seen so many giants working for the orcs before."

Bellany nodded, "I wish I could remember you.  I wish I
could remember anything. Bellany hesitated in
confusion, did you teach me chess?"

Norwit brightened, "Yes, I did. I never spent as much
time with you as I should have, but one winter on the
eve of the vindicator's birthday when you were eight
years old I did teach you chess. I am sorry your memory
is damaged. Maybe it is better this way. You were taken
by orcs. The Vindicator knows how they must have
brutalized you. This way you have a fresh start."

Bellany nodded gravely, "You mean I am probably not a
virgin."

"No, but you are alive and that is what counts, "You
cannot imagine how much your mother and I worried"
------------

[Rapina]052 A Night As Dark As Sable

The journey to her parents' home seemed a long one. She
was carried to and deposited on the seat of the Norwit
coach. Once underway she had felt every bump the wheels
of the carriage had touched, and every one of them hurt
her bruised body. The nebulous shooting pains and the
blood she had seen in her urine in the days before the
trip told her that some of her internal organs were
damaged. She was very worried and wondered if she would
ever fully recover. Nevertheless she tried to keep a
tired eye on the countryside, and to listen to her
mother, Eleanor Norwit trying to cheer her up.

Since she remembered nothing about herself she found
her mother's chatter educational. Her family consisted
of her parents and two brothers, Charles and Darren.
She was supposedly sixteen, although somehow she had
thought she was older. Charles, her senior by one year,
was at a finishing school in Bristol. Darren, her
fourteen-year-old brother had a tutor and was helping
her father and their steward run the estate. He was
already being groomed for a career in management.

Bellany found out that before her accident she had been
active in the church of the vindicator, helping her
mother with Sunday school and charity events. She was
adept at needlepoint and backgammon. She read and wrote
poetry, sang in the church choir and played the lyre
and the lute. The only trouble was, she did not
remember one wit of what her mother told her, yet both
of her parents were absolutely certain that they
recognized her as their daughter who had been abducted
by orcs last year in the late summer.

Lawns, hayfields and farms surrounded keep Norwit but
there was a small walled town about a mile south named
Emmitsville. Both the keep and the town had suffered
extensive damage from the attacks of giants and orcs.
Only reinforcements from the East had saved them from
utter destruction. Keep Norwit had been largely
repaired. It consisted of a tower keep on a small hill
that was attached to a walled courtyard. Built into the
front wall of the courtyard were a gatehouse and a
sturdy, fortified manor house. A carriage house and
various other outbuildings were built against the other
walls of the courtyard.

When at last she was carried to her bedroom within the
manor house and put into her bed, Bellany slept like
the dead waking up only on occasion because of internal
pain and then drifting back to sleep. It was sometime
the next day when she truly awakened. The heavy drapes
had been drawn across her windows so that she could
sleep but she could see there was light behind them.
She looked around her room. She saw a fireplace
containing a bed of glowing embers with a thick log
atop them, a bookshelf, a desk, a bureau and a dressing
table with a mirror. On the walls she saw a painting of
an elaborate church of the vindicator and one of an old
man and woman she did not know. There were three doors
out of the room. The room did not look familiar. She
wanted to walk around but after sitting up she decided
she was just not up to it. There was a bell on the
night table next to her bed. She picked it up and rang
it. A woman perhaps ten years her senior entered the
room.

"Yes milady Bellany?" the maid said.

Bellany blinked, "I am sorry, I really should remember
you, but I cannot remember much since the spell, only
bits and pieces that don't fit."

"It's all right Miss Bellany, My name's Grace and I'm
the chamber maid. Lady Eleanor said you were in bad
shape, includin' your memory.

Bellany nodded, "I really don't even know if I am
Bellany Norwit. I don't recognize anyone. I don't even
recognize myself when I look in the mirror. Lord and
Lady Norwit say I look just like Bellany, only I've
filled out some."

Aye, you are Bellany aright. I would know your face
anywhere, even as black and blue as it is, and even if
I didn't, I'd recognize the sound of your voice. I was
your maid since I was a girl. You were just a baby
then," Grace said.

"Thank you, it's comforting to know people remember me,
even if I don't remember them, or even myself," Bellany
said.

"Lord Norwit said ye ran afowl of an orc sorcerer,"
Grace said.

Bellany blinked as she remembered a mottled green
creature without legs or arms affixed to a stand. It
was troll, not an orc. "Er, yes, I think that's what
happened, but I can't remember more than shreds that
don't fit together."

"Perhaps in time ye'll put the pieces together, Missy,"
Grace said.

Bellany nodded, "I hope so. I wonder if you could tell
me what time of day it is and when the next meal is
coming?" Bellany asked.

Grace smiled, "Well I guess ye're ready to face the day
then. That door there is your closet, the next one is
your privy and the one I came through goes into the
manor. It's an hour or two before supper, but the cook
has orders to send you something mild to eat whenever
ye've a mind for it."

Bellany nodded. "Yes, I would like something like a
thin oatmeal gruel. I can't chew for long; it hurts too
much. I mostly have to drink my meals." Bellany
wrinkled her nose. Somehow I need to make it to the
privy too, but it's difficult even for me to sit up..."

After a meal and a brief visit from her parents,
Bellany went back to sleep. She woke up in the middle
of the night in a sweat after dreaming of bedding a
hoard of pirates. It was amazing how lifelike they all
were too. Each had his own personality, and their
leader, Red Jack, had quite a sense of humor. Bellany
rolled her eyes, "My dreams are too crazy, she
whispered to herself. The fire gave off only a faint
glow. Did she see shadows? Her left hand went to the
chain on her neck that was not there. The palm tickled
strangely in the brief moment it was facing the room.
"Did I once have a light?" she questioned herself. She
blinked as her errant memory showed her a dark scene.
She was climbing a ladder. She approached an
illuminated crystal that hung from a metal grating
above her. Bellany cocked her head, "Magic?" she
whispered.

She found she could sit up as long as she could
tolerate the pain of her bruises as she struggled to an
upright position. Now that she had, had about a week
and a half to recover, she was sure her head and chest
were the least damaged parts of her body. Her right
shoulder seemed fairly strong, but her left arm was
still very hurt, especially the palm of her left hand.
It felt dead yet ached at the same time. She guessed it
was that ache that had awakened her. Her legs were too
weak to hold her, yet she could not help but think they
were not going to get stronger unless she used them.
She wanted to light some candles and walk around, but
she could not walk, it was too dark and she was too
weak. She promised herself she would try to explore the
room sometime tomorrow during daylight.

The next day Bellany awakened sometime around noon. She
felt a little stronger and even better yet after
breakfast. Nevertheless, she knew her strength would
not last for many hours and the shooting pains she
sometimes suffered frightened her. After seeing her
mother, she pretended to be having trouble staying
awake. Her mother left her so that she could take a
nap.

Bellany really did doze for a few minutes, but then she
woke up and turned her covers down, primarily with her
right hand. She used the same hand to help swing her
legs off the bed. The floor looked a long ways off even
though it was less that a foot below her feet. Since
the chair her mother always sat in was close to the
bed, Bellany decided to make that her target. She
turned over on her belly and slid off the bed until her
feet touched the ground. Then she put as much weight on
her legs as she could and fell backwards into the
chair. She nearly missed and spilled herself on the
floor but thanks to her right arm she managed to get
the chair under her.

She put her right hand between her legs and grasped the
chair, then scooted along over the rugs to the desk.
She searched it finding ink, quills and parchment.
There was one drawer that contained some scrap paper
with bits of poems and various other writings on it
that had not turned out. Bellany looked at the writing.
Something did not seem right. She took a quill and
began to copy a poem fragment right next to the
fragment itself. Her heart sank when she saw the
writing was not the same. She began to cry but
instinctively held down her volume. She felt so
vulnerable. "Surely I could not remember how to write
but forget how to write like I used to," Bellany
thought to herself. I cannot be Bellany Norwit, but if
I am not then who am I?

"Think, think think," Bellany muttered to herself. "I
have to think and act like, like, like what? I have to
think like someone who is objective, cold, and
rational. Bellany's mind swam as she remembered talking
to a naked warrior in a great iron cauldron bath, "He
doesn't know if I am a queen or a pawn and that
interferes with his chess game... I assure you I am the
white queen. I have to think like a chess master, the
chess master, but who is that and what is a white
queen?"

"Never mind that, I need to think about now. I am
sorely wounded. I need medical care and I need to put
the pieces of my memory together. If I am not Bellany
Norwit, I need to know who I really am and why I seem
to be her. I need time, time to recover. First I need
to know this is Bellany's writing and not the writing
of one of her parents who gave her the parchment. The
young woman searched through the drawer of scrap paper
and did find some writing in different hands but none
of it was hers. Finally she found an old note to
"mother" signed Bellany in the same script as had been
used to write the poem.

"Until I know who I am, I am Bellany Norwit. I am going
to stay here with servants, parents, food, medical
attention and a warm bed," Bellany assured herself. She
began copying poem fragments, matching her writing to
the writing on the page until she could write Bellany
script without looking at an example. Her fingertips
hurt even though she held the quill lightly, but she
did not care. Her survival was at stake.

When she was done she carefully scooted her chair to
the fire, and burned her practice sheets. She made sure
every sheet of parchment was turned completely to ash
and then she retraced her path to her bed, smoothing
the rug with her feet as she scooted the chair along
under her. She then managed to push herself up with her
right hand and legs and flop onto the bed on her belly.
Rolling the rest of the way onto the bed was an
excruciating chore but she did it, and she got herself
into bed. When she was done she was exhausted. She knew
she would pay for her excursion, but she felt more
secure knowing that even if she were somehow not
Bellany, at least she could write like Bellany.

Being badly bruised and too weak to walk, Bellany was
confined to her bedroom. She hated the confinement even
more than being in pain. Thankfully she had guests, her
pensive mother came to see her often, and her more
bearable father usually appeared once or twice a day
when he was home. Her brother Darren came to see her
when she first got home and occasionally he came to
visit along with Lord Norwit in the mornings. She could
also sometimes get her maid Grace to talk to her, and
more importantly, Grace would get her books from her
shelf and help her with mundane things she could not
yet do by herself.

Bellany had started on the top shelf and was very
rapidly working her way down. She pretended to be
browsing and skimming, but in truth she was reading and
studying as best she could, given her condition. In
spite of what would have seemed to others to be good
progress, she felt so slow as if some essential
vitality were missing from her mind.

On a Monday morning a few days after Bellany's arrival
at Nowit Manor, Eleanor Norwit, Bellany's mother, was
there in her daughter's room when there came a knocking
at the door.

"Come in. Why Reverend Wright, it is so good to see
you, and so considerate of you to come and see my poor
Bellany," Eleanor Norwit said.

Bellany sat up and looked at the Reverend. He was a
somewhat homely narrow-shouldered man whose arrow-
straight brown hair threatened to obscure his fanatical
brown eyes. She felt a tingle that somehow was not
quite right. Even though there was something off about
the tingle the Reverend gave her, it seemed like
something that she sorely missed, something that she
had half forgotten but that nevertheless filled her
mind with whispers that she could not quite hear.

"Baby remember your modesty," Eleanor pushed Bellany's
covers up, as though each of her fingers were a swarm
of angry bees. "I am sorry Reverend Wright, Bellany's
memory shattered from the stresses of her ordeal and
the magic of an orc shaman. She does not seem to
remember that others still can see.

"Don't worry Lady Norwit, the nightgown you have her in
is as modest as most summer dresses. You needn't
concern yourself about impropriety. Its Bellany's soul
we all have to worry about, her body will mend as best
it can, Vindicator willing. I only wish I were senior
enough in my role as a priest that I could offer some
healing, but alas, I have not yet been so blessed,"
Reverend Wright said.

Bellany somehow connected her mother's busy bee fingers
with the Reverend's grasping after her soul. She could
tell by the tone of Lady Eleanor's voice that her
mother fawned over the young man's every word. Bellany
decided she would have to pretend to like the Reverend,
just as he was pretending to care about her. Bellany
was not sure what it was he did care about, but she
would find out.

"Since you missed Sunday's sermon, I told Lady Norwit I
would come deliver it to you personally," Reverend
Wright said.

"That is so kind of you Reverend, thank you." She could
not say why, but there was something about the Reverend
that bothered her. Her mother was a busy woman and she
was called away in the middle of the sermon. She
promised to return later. Bellany studied the man who
spoke with such fanatical conviction, and decided he
was here to make sure the vindicator still had her
soul. Somehow she felt that if the vindicator had ever
had it, he had lost it of late.

She sat up a little and was rewarded by a tingle, and
by some happenstance of habit she did something within
her mind and body to pull on that tingle. She was
rewarded by another tingle. The tingle definitely
seemed to come from Reverend Wright. She had felt the
same thing when she had told the artist Mark Reins that
she enjoyed company. There was no doubt that these
tingles tied in with the aching need she felt in her
loins.

Bellany smiled to herself and sat up more. She gazed
raptly at the sermonizing Reverend pacing back and
forth across the floor of her room and she pretended to
be as stuck on the man as her mother while she played
the tingle game with him to keep herself occupied. By
the end of the sermon she could get Wright to send her
a nose-tickling tingle at will. It gave her an odd
sense of power even though she felt so beaten and
powerless otherwise. When the sermon was done, the
Reverend came to sit in the chair by her bed, the one
usually occupied by her mother. He looked a little
flushed.

"Have you any questions on the sermon, young Lady
Norwit?" Reverend Wright asked.

Bellany wanted to tell the man what a phony he was. He
pretended to care about her, but what he really cared
about was harvesting her soul for the Vindicator. She
found him intolerable, but she wanted him to rip her
clothes off nevertheless. There was an aching hunger in
her loins worse even than the throbbing dead pain in
her left palm. She needed something he could give her
so badly that it hurt. Bellany decided she would go
along with his game and make him believe he was
succeeding famously at stealing her soul for the
Vindicator. Besides, if she resisted, she was sure he
would probably just work all the harder and send her
mother after her as well. Everyone seemed to pity her
anyway; she decided to work from there.

"How can the Vindicator save my soul, Reverend Wright?
I am bruised to the bone from the spell of an orc
shaman. I think the orcs must have taken my virginity
from me, but I have no way of knowing for sure that
they did. No man will ever have me after what they
probably did to me, and I will become an old, dried-up
spinster," Bellany sniffled.

Reverend Wright wiped the tear from Bellany's face.
Touching her made him ache with desire but he held
firm. "Don't worry lady, your afflictions are severe
but even while you were in the vile clutches of the
orcs, the Vindicator made your body blossom like a
rose. You were a girl when I saw you last; now you are
a beautiful woman. If you could only see yourself now,
you would know that even after all that has befallen
you, the Vindicator will bring you a fine, forgiving
husband. You must have faith," Reverend Wright said.

"Do you really think so, Reverend Wright?" Bellany
asked.

"The reverend's eyes traced over the magnificent curve
of her breasts. Your lines are exquisite, milady, your
body is a work of art. Even after your ordeal, men will
take notice of you. I promise," Reverend Wright said.

Bellany's nipples rose to dent the fabric of her
nightgown.

Wright inhaled deeply.

"I pray you are right Reverend, but I cannot go on
wondering what the orcs did to me. I need someone to
tell me if I am still a virgin, and if not whether I
can ever be with a man after what they have done to me.

"I cannot do such a thing for you, Bellany. The
vindicator demands celibacy of his priests. It is a
great sacrifice. The church has been cracking down on
errant priests of late, and besides, everyone knows if
any man anywhere in Norwit dared to touch you, your
father would have him hanged," Reverend Wright said.

"Please Reverend, I cannot trust anyone else to do it.
My father will never know, I promise," Bellany said.

The reverend hesitated for a long moment. I am sorry
lady, you must look for yourself when you are well
enough, and you may feel inside if you are in doubt of
your capacity for a man. If there is no membrane
barring the way into the depths of you then surely the
orcs have broken your purity, but true purity is of the
soul. Give yourself to the vindicator and he will
restore the purity of your soul," Reverend Wright said.

Bellany could see the reverend was too far-gone into
the vindicator's fold to bring him between her folds.
In a way she would have preferred if he were lecherous.
At least she would still have been able to count him as
a man. This reverend was not even a man. His soul had
been stolen and he reveled in it. Bellany wondered at
the finesse of the vindicator. How he must be envied by
every silver-tongued demon that wished to possess the
minds and souls of others. Who else could convince so
many so easily that in giving up their souls they were
found, but were they to leave their souls where nature
had intended they would be lost?

Bellany blinked as her fragmented memory parted with
another gem.

"I will give you potent magic, and more than mere
dreams of lust. Simply open your mind to me, let me
come into you and fill you with my power."  It was the
spirit of lust contained in a stone that had once tried
to steal her soul for its own use talking. Had she
succumbed? She wished she had other memories to add to
it, but it was only a piece in a large, complex puzzle.

Bellany suddenly realized she needed to react to the
real world and not her memories, "Oh yes, yes I will
give myself to the vindicator, Reverend. I must be
filled with his purity." Bellany crossed her fingers
behind her back and pretended to be swept up in the
moment.

"Let us pray..." Reverend Wright said.

Bellany prayed like a fanatic, and when her mother came
in sometime later, Bellany was still praying with the
reverend. She pretended to have been enraptured by the
reverend's words. She was not sure which she felt more
strongly compelled to do, to roll off the bed laugh-
screaming or to throw up. Somehow she managed to uphold
her ruse until both of them had left, and then she hid
under the covers and shook herself with a mixture of
revulsion and silent laughter. She did not know why she
had such a strong negative reaction to the vindicator,
but there certainly was no denying it.

----

Bellany had many dreams as she slept through the next
few nights and napped through parts of the days. At
night she was still uneasy. It seemed as if she could
sometimes sense the presence of others in her room. To
make matters worse, so many of her dreams and
flashbacks would have curled her mother's hair. She
wondered if she could have actually done even half the
things she had dreamed of or "remembered." Her memories
troubled her but not nearly so much as her injuries.
The fragmentary memories and the dreams she had were
all wrong for the innocent daughter of Eleanor Norwit.
Somehow they were tied to the lust spirit of the stone.
Her past was an illusive sorcery. Yet if she was not
Bellany Norwit as she suspected, then who was she?
Perhaps she was a doppelganger with amnesia? Surely she
must be loosing her mind. For the moment she decided to
remain the orc-abused daughter of a baronet.

----

Several mornings after her "consultation" with the
reverend her father came to visit. Oddly, she felt much
more comfortable with him than with her mother. Her
mother had expectations that she would return to being
the Bellany she always had been, and that she would
take the same pleasure at loosing her soul that her
mother did. Her father, on the other hand, was a man
who had somehow retained his soul in spite of the
presence of the vindicator in his household. He was a
practical military man and the former Bellany had spent
much less time with him than with her mother.

"Daddy, I don't understand one whit of it. Leech
Fraksen said memories of doing would be more durable
than memories of knowing. He said if I did the things I
used to do I would pick them up rapidly if not
instantly, and that they would help me remember things
associated with them. Mother has told me what I used to
enjoy. She was helping me to sing my formerly favorite
hymns to the vindicator last night. I have been doing
my best to humor her and the reverend, but just between
you and I, religion just does not seem as practical as
it once did. I guess mother thought I would be just
fine after the reverend raised my spirits, but I'm not
just fine. At least not the way she wants me to be just
fine."

Darl smiled, "Bellany, your mother and I understand you
have been through a lot even if you don't remember it.
Spending most of a year as the slave of the orcs cannot
help but have changed you. We can tell that. The way
that you talk and the way that you act, everything has
changed. The little girl you were is gone and we
realize we can never get her back. Your mother and I
just want you to get better, and she thinks religion is
going to heal you. I am not sure what to think. I just
wish I had done a better job keeping the orcs off the
roads."

"I don't blame you, daddy. As a child your competent
actions somehow managed to convince me that we were not
living in a frontier battle zone. That means you must
have been very effective at keeping the orcs at bay.
Sooner or later they were bound to come up with
something to throw you off your stride. At least you
are hard at work keeping Norwit safe. Daddy, from the
bits I remember I know I am a hundred times removed
from being a virgin. Furthermore after nearly a year
with the orcs I realize I cannot possibly be anything
but barren if I did not bear a half-orc baby and I see
no sign of a past pregnancy. I cannot be a pious
vindicator wife. I may pretend to humor mother, but I
can never be what she wants me to be. I need to learn
to do something practical."

"Mother had been training me to be a dutiful wife and
pious indoctrinator of the young, but it is likely that
I will never bear children. What I used to do had
little practical value. Do you have any books other
than those religious tracts and books of poems?"
Bellany wrinkled her nose. I am so tired of the old me.
It seems such a sham in the face of what has become of
me."

Baronet Norwit shook his head sadly, "Bellany you used
to live for those things and now..."

Bellany sighed, "Those things seem so worthless to me
now, daddy. I guess there is nothing like being a slave
of the enemy to make you realize you are at war. I will
do what I can to spare mother's feelings, but I have no
interest in most of the things I used to do. I would
like to try to re-learn music, but I just can't get
interested in poems and those prayers and hymns to the
vindicator. I went through the books on my shelf and
found nothing meatier than a book on needlepoint
techniques. Do you have any practical books like men
read?"

"You mean books on how to kill orcs by the hundreds?"
Baronet Norwit asked.

"Maybe just by the tens or twenties," Bellany smiled.
"I don't want to get too ambitious."

Darl chuckled and shook his head, "I have plenty of
books on warfare, but you used to avoid them like the
plague. Not to mention your mother would not approve."

"I was a frivolous child who had no idea where she was
living or what might happen if a few giants got past
the forts in the north and brought their orcish side-
kicks with them. If you pick out some books for me, I
would like to look through them and read any that seem
interesting. You can tell mother it is just some
histories where our side wins instead of what happened
in my case. Tell her that I am weak, bored and have a
vendetta against the orcs," Bellany said.

"I would be happy to pick a few out for you, although I
am sure I will hear about it from your mother," Lord
Norwit said.

"Mother is just going to have to accept the fact that
her meek and faithful little girl was ruined by orcs.
Since the legion of orcs never got me pregnant, she
will have to forgive me if I think it is unlikely that
I will ever be able to fill the role of childbearing
wife and mother that she has chosen for me. I will have
to find something else to do," Bellany said.

Lord Norwit grimaced and nodded, "Most women enslaved
by the orcs bear child after child of mixed blood from
the repeated rapes."

"Bellany nodded. I will never be able to please mother
the way I used to. I have already accepted that,"
Bellany said.

Lord Norwit sighed, "I am sure this will disturb your
mother to no end, but I understand. I must get on with
my day. I will have someone bring you some practical
books," Lord Norwit said.

Thank you daddy, Bellany gave Lord Norwit's hand a
squeeze.

During the following week Bellany slept a great deal
while her body was mending, yet as she reached a
certain point of wellness her aches, including the one
in her loins awakened her at odd times and kept her
sleep shallow. To make matters worse, when she did
awaken at night any stir or shadow startled her as
though ghosts beset her. Thankfully she was given
crutches and began practicing with them to supplement
the weakness of her legs. During her waking hours she
read as much as she could. Her father began making it a
point to visit her early every morning, and during that
time she would talk to him about what she had read.

"Good morning Bellany," Darl Norwit looked dubiously at
the stack of volumes on Bellany's night table and the
even larger stack on the floor just in front of it. I
see Steward Brosk is taking his job a little too
seriously," Norwit said.

"He is now. He brought me three books on the first day.
That was hardly enough. I had to complain bitterly."
Bellany smiled.

"It was?" The baronet looked a bit confused.

"Yes, he underestimated what I can do when I have a
mind to. Especially when I spend so much of my time
trapped in bed. Besides, I can't say I like all the
books. Some I just browse through," Bellany stretched
the truth for her father's benefit. She had found she
could read even complex material quite rapidly as long
as the shooting pains she sometimes got did not
distract her. Evidently her training in reading poems
and prayers had not been a total waste even if she
could not remember any of them save the ones she had
read after her ordeal.

"At first he brought me military histories. I read
about a lot of battles, tactics and eeevil politics,"
Bellany rolled her eyes and grinned. Then I read this
one Randal's Art of the Sword. It's a training manual.
Unfortunately I am sure mom would as soon send me back
to the orc tribe that snatched me as let me receive
training at arms. Bellany grinned. Some of the
exercises in it were interesting though. Today I am
going to try the few I might be able to do in my
condition. I am thinking I really will have to do
something to get my strength back after being in bed
for so long."

"You're contemplating exercises?" Darl Norwit raised an
eyebrow.

Bellany nodded, "I'm sure mother would not approve, but
why shouldn't I exercise? I have muscles don't I, and
they have been weakened by my injuries. Maybe if I
could have run faster I would have gotten away from the
orcs. That reminds me, do we have horses daddy? It
seems like we ought to."

"Yes we do for the cavalrymen and couriers," Norwit
said.

"Did I used to ride them?" Bellany asked.

"You and your mother would occasionally ride to church
in your finery," Norwit said.

"I was thinking maybe if I could have ridden a real
horse real fast, I might have gotten away from the
orcs," Bellany said.

"You seem a little obsessed with orcs, daughter. I wish
there were something that I could have done to have
spared you the ordeal..." Norwit said.

"I am not blaming you, daddy. I wish there were
something I could have done to spare me that ordeal
too. I think there were several things I could have
done, and I aim to do them even if it means sneaking
around behind mother's back. Daddy, what is the fastest
horse you own?"

"Starstruck, my black Andalusian stallion. He's not as
large as many of the cavalry horses, but he is faster
than any of them.  Most of my cavalry horses are gelded
because that makes them more manageable in battle, but
Star is far to valuable to be gelded. His
characteristics improve my local stock immeasurably.
Bellany...I really wish I could have prevented the orcs
from... Lord Norwit cleared his throat and started
over. You must not think of riding right now. You need
to put everything into recovering."

Bellany nodded, reached out and squeezed her father's
hand. "You work very hard to keep Norwit safe, daddy,
to the point of sometimes having to neglect your own
family. I approve. I am still very confused about what
happened to me. My memory is just bits and pieces at
best. I have to take the word of others on who I am. I
don't even know I am really your daughter. The few bits
I do remember would turn mother into a crying wreck so
I am keeping them to myself.

"Bellany I admire your strength but... this is not like
you," Norwit said.

"In my recent past the alternative to strength was
death. Perhaps death is what really happened to Bellany
at the hands of the orcs, daddy, and I am just some
lost spirit possessing her body. In which case you
should not tell me any grave secrets," Bellany
cautioned. "I have to learn strength in spite of mother
and the reverend. I know it is not going to be easy."

Darl Norwit looked genuinely troubled at his daughter's
words, yet there was a part of him that was proud of
her, even if she was going against propriety to the nth
degree.

-----

Thane came into the abode's dining nook looking a bit
preoccupied. He nodded a greeting to Rames, sat down
and played with his oatmeal.

"I am sorry Guardian Thane, I am just not as creative
with food as Rapina was."

"It's no matter Guardian Rames. I do not expect you to
fill Rapina's shoes, anymore than I would expect you to
dress in Argosian lingerie and tug on the strings of my
lust while I was attempting to eat breakfast," Thane
chuckled. I am preoccupied because I have been looking
in on the Norwit girl periodically as I had promised.
Perhaps more often than I had intended. You see, in
spite of my not sleeping with Rapina, I find that I am
feeling nearly as heartbroken as you seem to be. In a
way I feel as though I cheated myself in not availing
myself of what she so freely offered, but at the time I
captured her I felt she needed a father figure more
than yet another lover. Perhaps in providing her with a
father figure, I inadvertently adopted her as my
daughter and now I am feeling like a parent who has a
missing child. It is hard to say. Even though I have so
many more servitors than I once did. I feel...

"Bereft?" Rames nodded, "I understand, but any more
talk like that is going to break my heart. Is there any
good news, anything?"

"I did the ritual of communion with Mortaebius and was
assured that Rapina is not among the dead, yet I cannot
help but get the impression that our patron is being
evasive about her whereabouts. I even tried locating
her solely through non-clerical magical means using my
mirror. One time I was sure I was on a roll, but when
the image resolved it was Bellany Norwit. For lack of
anything better to do I decided to look in on Ms Norwit
more often."

"As you know, Ms Norwit did not remember whom she was
when she awakened, thus complicating what should have
been a simple test. Evidently the trauma had made a
mess of her memory. Nevertheless, I have neither the
time nor the magical resources to watch her for lengthy
periods. The best I can do is a spot check now and
again.

This morning I happened to look in on her and she was
attempting to do exercises in spite of her rather grave
condition. She is still very weak and after briefly
attempting a few exercises, she had to give up. She is
not bouncing back like Rapina would. I did see that she
was reading a book on swordsmanship she had gleaned
from her father's library, and the other books that had
visible titles were military in nature, not the sort of
thing I would expect a noblewoman to be reading. The
problem is that if she were Rapina, her survival would
depend on her seeming to be Bellany Norwit. If her
memory were muddled she might lack the information to
realize she ought to make an effort to give me a clue
as to her identity."

"Has she been chasing men? If that is Rapina and she is
wounded, you know she'd need it in the worst way,"
Rames said.

Thane smiled, "I suppose you are right, unfortunately
until recently she has been unable to stray far from
her bed. She now uses crutches to walk since her legs
and her left arm are weak. Even had she wanted to chase
men, there would have been no opportunity. Now that she
can get around on crutches I shall try to look in on
her at various times of day to see if she does have any
interactions with males. The keep is garrisoned, but I
imagine Lord Norwit would string up any man who was a
big enough fool to bed his daughter."

Rames shook his head, "That would be a desperate
situation for Rapina."

Thane nodded, "You realize this is a long shot. I
should not even be doing it, yet since I have promised
myself I would practice skrying every chance I got,
there is no reason why I cannot make Ms Norwit one of
the people I apply my practice sessions to."

Rames nodded, "Until we get a better lead, it's at
least something."

"Agreed, and even if I am merely spinning my wheels, it
feels good to be doing something."

-----------

It felt good to be able to move around even if it was
on crutches and even if it sometimes caused her to hurt
inside. She could not yet negotiate stairs but had
promised herself she would learn. Bellany started
trying to sleep after dinner each night, but got up at
the crack of dawn every morning because that was the
time her father could always visit her when he was
home, and she actually enjoyed seeing him. She did not
have to put on near as much of an act for him as she
did for her mother.

She was rapidly devouring the books he and Steward
Brosk brought her and she enjoyed talking some of them
over with her father whose military knowledge was
appreciable, and who had the kind of experience that
went beyond mere book knowledge. Even though she was
determined to get her strength back, she still spent a
lot of time in bed and most of that time she spent
reading.

Currently she was in one of the back bedrooms of the
manor looking out the window into the courtyard. Down
below she could see her father and lieutenant Florin
reviewing the garrison troops. Soon they would start
weapons practice.

Three days ago she had discovered weapons practice when
lieutenant Florin and sergeant Lime had demonstrated
some swordsmanship with live steel. Bellany had heard
and had watched from a window at the end of the
corridor that led past her bedroom. Since then she had
not missed a day. She sat and ate part of her breakfast
as she raptly watched two score of men practice at
arms. Her finger had a habit of straying under her
nightgown as she watched. She did not know why, but her
female parts seemed to be better off than much of the
rest of her as if some natural flow pattern of energy
had diverted a certain amount of the power that had
restored the patch just under her breasts down to her
loins.

One of the younger men's practice swords clattered off
his opponent's low parry and then thwacked his
opponent's instep. Bellany's mouth opened as she
daydreamed a scene...

"First off we're gonna do is run ye 'round Red Jack's
Isle ta see how tough ye are... I don't cater ta wimps
here, and' this trainin' is oriented ta survival o' the
fittest. She could see them running too, a whole bunch
of boys. She got the impression they were pirates. She
remembered bedding the same pirates from her dream. She
shook her head. She came up with the wildest stories in
her head. Obviously she had dreamed that one up before
her accident for the same reason her finger was nudging
her nub. "Honestly, I really must have needed a man
when I dreamed those stories up. I suppose it was
because daddy would hang anyone who touched me. Pirate
ships, sweating recruits... Bellany saw the image of a
naked Norsemen, blonde and bigger than life. She
grinned, "and pike-bearing Norsemen. Being a noblewoman
is like being in a golden cage in a way. I wonder if I
was always this crazy for men?"

------

The next day began with her mother's voice.

Bellany! Wake up dear we have to get you ready for
church!

Bellany groaned quietly. She had to wake up and put on
her vindicator act for the benefit of her mother. She
managed it and in not too long a time her mother and
Grace had her cleaned up. They had made some
alterations to one of her Sunday dresses and she now
fit into it nicely. She smiled at sergeant Lime and the
tingles he provoked as he and her father bore her down
stairs on a litter. She ate breakfast with her family
in the great hall and then was rushed off to a
carriage.

The church was in Emittsville. It was fairly large and
looked to have been built within the last ten years.
There were lots of people there and everyone was eager
to greet her father the baron who evidently did not
make it to church very often. After greeting her
parents they invariably welcomed Bellany home. From
many of the men she felt the same nose and spine
tickling feeling as she had from the reverend and
sergeant Lime. She suddenly realized she was feeling
their lust and it made her ache for a lover all the
more. After addressing the baron, Reverend Wright
greeted her with open arms, and told her how glad he
was to see her back in church and then he rushed off to
the pulpit to start the service.

"Before I start the service I would like you all to
welcome Lady Bellany Norwit back into the fold," Wright
announced.  "We are sure she had many harrowing
experiences after being taken slave by the orcs. As she
courageously helped the adventurers who rescued her in
their battle against the most powerful of the orcs, she
was hit by the foul sorcery of an orc shaman and nearly
killed. Yet the vindicator sometimes tips his hand to
the faithful.

Her rescuers won the day and took her to the office of
Leech Fraksen in the north. In spite of horrible damage
that goes right through her mortal body miraculously,
her eyes were unharmed and she pulled through. It has
taken her some time but she is walking again with the
aid of crutches. Her memory was severely traumatized so
don't take offense if she does not remember you. She
did not remember her own name when she was found and
has taken the word of friends and family as to whom she
is. Please welcome Lady Bellany Norwit.

The parishioners applauded and several of them called
out greetings and welcomes.

Bellany waved and smiled to everyone, and then settled
in to listen to the reverend as he sermonized. She
tried not to let her mouth twitch too much during the
sermon. There was something that deeply bothered her
about the vindicator, but she could not say why she
felt that way. After the service she stood near the
back of the church and most of the congregation greeted
her and gave their condolences that she had, had to
endure so much.

"I am so glad you could be with us this morning, Baron
Norwit as we welcomed Bellany back into the fold",
Reverend Wright said.  "How is your memory coming,
Bellany, does the church look familiar? You and your
mother have spent many fine hours here."

"Thank you reverend," Bellany said.  "So far I really
don't remember anything other than a few horrors at the
hands of the orcs. It seems like I should remember the
church, but nothing I have seen yet has rung a bell. I
have no idea where anything is."

"We will just have to remedy that Lady Bellany. I enjoy
showing off this house of the vindicator. Let me offer
you my arm and I'll give you the royal tour," Reverend
Wright said.

"Thank you reverend," Bellany curtsied and grimaced as
her legs protested.

"It looks like you could use the arms of two men,"
Reverend Wright said.

"Allow me," Lord Norwit said.

"Thank you daddy," Bellany said.

The baronet and the reverend took Bellany through the
church but nothing looked familiar at first. There was
a hall on one side of the sanctuary where the arts and
crafts of various children and parishioners were
displayed. One of the displays was different and read,
"Enemies of the Church and the Marquisate. Bellany
stopped suddenly as she saw one of the faces.

"Ho there," reverend Wright said as Bellany brought him
to an abrupt stop. Do you recognize this display?"

Bellany blinked and tried to seem a lot less disturbed
than she was, "I don't think so, but I wanted to look
at the faces since I've just come back from being among
the orcs and outlaws. Do you know anything about these
people?"

"Some of them I have heard stories about," the reverend
said.

Bellany pointed, "Who is this Captain Red Jack?"

"He's the foulest reaver on the Augustana River. For
years he and his pirates terrorized river settlements.
A couple of years ago he and his men were nearly
destroyed out east on Grand Lake by a man as foul as
them, a sorcerer-priest of Mortaebius..." Reverend
Wright said.

Bellany's vision swam as her memory conjured a torch-
lit scene. "Blood an' bones!" hollered the now-familiar
muscle-bound Norseman from Bellany's dreams. This time
he was fighting walking skeletons and ordering pirates
to stand firm. "Hold yer ground an' drive these bags a
bones back t' the hells they came from!"

The reverend was continuing his story, "...Red Jack was
captured and sent to Turnmoor to be executed, but some
of his allies and a few crewmen who had fled the battle
with the sorcerer helped the captain escape at the last
minute. Lord Heinrich Li Yeiraun hunted Red Jack down
and would have defeated him but for the intervention of
a powerful necromancer that had allied himself with the
filthy pirate."

"Is the vindicator at war with this death god
Mortaebius? The one whose priest captured Red Jack?"
Bellany asked.

"Well in a matter of speaking yes. The forces of the
vindicator drove the evil minions of Mortaebius out of
the Marquisate and burned his temples. We will fight
those ghouls any way we can!" the reverend exclaimed.

The reverend cleared his throat, "Anyway the
necromancer also raided the magic from Lord
Li'Yieraun's keep and angered Nordula, Lord
Li'Yieraun's mage."

In her mind, an old grizzled sergeant opened the heavy
door into a large keep before her.

"Oi, who's the' girl?" asked the sergeant.

"Got her down at Agnes.'  Damn pretty, isn't she?" the
officer whose arm she held replied.

Reverend Wright continued,"...Knowing the vindicator
despised necromancers and the death god they worship,
Lord Li'Yieraun and Lord Avengene realized they had
something in common and struck up a fine alliance. Li
'Yeiraun's mage and our priests were responsible for
vanquishing the threat of the giants. Our ally Lord Li
'Yeiraun has also sent us stonemasons from the south to
help with our massive rebuilding effort. Why I believe
your father has one employed at keep Norwit. I am sure
that one day we will catch up with Red Jack again.
These other posters are of some of Jack's wicked
crewmen, Arzeal, Drake, Brackston, Pike, and Skitch are
officers, and some of these others are just notable
pillagers."

Bellany put her hand over her mouth as she stared at
the poster depicting Pike. She had seen that very same
Norseman in her daydreams. Somehow it was all real; her
dreams were memories.

"Goodness that one looks like he could tear a woman
limb from limb," Bellany said to disguise her reaction.

"I have no doubt he could; yet these pirates are as
cowardly as they are dangerous. When the heat of the
law became too great for Captain Red Jack down along
the Augustana River southwest of Avengene, he fled east
along the river and then he sailed north through the
elven forest and began terrorizing the eastern
provinces of Avengene. He was most active last year
when the forces of the vindicator had their hands full
with the giants and orcs, but even now he is a
notorious raider. We don't know when he will strike
next," the reverend said gravely.

Bellany nodded and began to walk forward, and then near
the end of the display she stopped dead again and gaped
at a poster.

Wanted for the murder of Reverend Evangeline Avengene,
Brianna Barter, a.k.a. Valkura.

"She looks younger than me, how was it she killed an
Avengene? Aren't they battle trained like daddy?"

"She was a fell sorceress from a line of witches, and
even at the age of fifteen, she bewitched Evangeline
and killed him in his bed."

Bellany leveled a dubious glare at the Reverend that
just about withered him where he stood, "And he was
found fully clothed in an unsoiled bed, no doubt."

Reverend Wright cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"Baron Daelrath and I have shared a few heated words
over that one. In any case, daughter, we owe our
allegiance to Marquis Avengene. You are to keep your
opinion about that young woman to yourself," Lord
Norwit said.

"Yes father," Bellany said in a stilted tone.

"I think it is time we got Bellany home. Thank you for
your hospitality Reverend, and my apologies for my
daughter's scornful look. I hope you understand she is
sensitive about matters surrounding the violation of
young women," Baronet Norwit said.

Reverend Wright cleared his throat once again, "Of
course milord; I understand."

-----

That afternoon Bellany had a lute lesson with an old
musician who played at the church. She kept the
conversation away from religion and tried to learn as
much about music as she could in spite of the aches in
her sides and her left palm. Her debility made her feel
as though her mind were smothered in molasses. Her
teacher thought she was "re-learning" her music at an
appreciable pace, but she felt like a snail. Something
was missing. She felt like such a lump and shooting
pains often ruined her best musical efforts in mid
song. Her mind somehow lacked the energy to really
shine and her loins were driving her batty.

That evening in bed Bellany stared up at the ceiling.
She had been avoiding thinking about the rogue's
gallery at the church and the things she had
remembered. It was down right scary.  Brianna Barter
had seemed so familiar, even the name haunted her. Had
she known her? Bellany could not imagine where she
might have met her. After all Bellany was only with the
orcs for under a year. Perhaps the orcs had taken
Brianna too. She was no doubt on the run from the law.
Even if Brianna had been a fellow slave, that did not
explain Bellany knowing Red Jack and his officers.
Bellany groaned. It was the same frustrating game. She
had more pieces to the puzzle but they still did not
exactly fit together, or did they?

If the sorcerer of Mortaebius had nearly destroyed Red
Jack she had originally been with Red Jack's men, then
what had happened to her when the sorcerer caught her?
The boys in her memory had seemed like pirate recruits.
Maybe she had been a recruit with them. It just did not
make sense. Norwit was too far away from the river for
pirates to have taken her. That and she did not know
how long ago Red Jack's men had run into the sorcerer.
It seemed that if Jack were raiding while the giants
were destroying forts in Avengene then he would have
been raiding Avengene during the year's period she was
a slave to the orcs. She would have to have known Jack
after his run-in with the sorcerer, but her memories
seemed to say that she had known him before that. Yet
that would have to have been before she was abducted by
orcs last summer. Bellany's head spun.

"Wait a minute," Her writing had been all wrong when
she had arrived. She might not be Bellany Norwit, yet
she looked like Bellany Norwit and there was and is a
holy war between the vindicator and Mortaebius."
Bellany decided to forget herself for a moment and just
try to put her dreams or memories together to see if
they made sense in and of themselves. Her last memories
seemed to start with the dreamstone priest and end with
Red Jack, why? She could not say. Then after Jack what
little bits she remembered did not yet fit together at
all. If the priest of Mortaebius had captured her with
Jack, and Jack was sent to Turnmoor for execution, what
had become of her?

Perhaps she was in league with the sorcerer. Had he put
her in touch with some secret order working for the
church of Mortaebius against the Church of the
vindicator? Maybe he had made a deal with Jack. That
would explain why Jack started raiding Avengene. In
addition it would explain why the things of the
vindicator sat so badly with her. There was an internal
logic to it, but it did not fit with Bellany's life and
abduction by the orcs. The two made sense apart but not
together. It was as if she were two people. Or maybe
she really was a demoness who had possessed the body of
Bellany Norwit.

She did not really feel like a demoness, but something
about her past and her present just did not jibe. She
decided she would just have to wait until she could
remember more pieces. For the moment she would try to
recuperate. Tomorrow she wanted to learn to take the
stairs on her crutches. Ideally she wanted to do away
with the crutches entirely but she was so weak and the
damage seemed to have affected more than her skin,
muscles and bone. Her internal organs were not right;
although the spot near her heart seemed to be healed.
Perhaps her heart and lungs were doing better than the
rest of her, just as her eyes were.

The next day Bellany learned to negotiate stairs. She
rose very early and dressed in a pastel pink dress, one
of the few outfits that had been altered to fit her.
Most of her clothes were too tight in the bust. Her
first flight of stairs consisted of three steps that
lead from the second floor of the manor house where her
room was to the curtain wall around the courtyard. She
took them slowly without mishap and then She hobbled
along on the wall to a good spot and sat between two of
the crenellations. Bellany waved down to the men
assembled for weapons practice, "Hi Daddy, hello
Sergeant Lime and everyone." The men looked up at her.
A herd of tiny tingles tickled her nose and ran down
her spine. "It can't be normal for a woman to feel lust
like this," Bellany thought to herself. Nevertheless
she noted which of the young men seemed to have the
strongest reaction.

By Wednesday Bellany was getting around pretty well
considering her debility. It hurt to move, sometimes
things inside her protested, but she found being caged
in her room intolerable. She felt a need in her loins
that was so strong it was driving her right out of her
mind. Her skin was clearing but at a snail's pace. It
was still noticeably yellow and blue. Her legs had
become only a little stronger but since her left arm
was a wreck, the added strength was very welcome. Her
left crutch had never done much more than steady her.
Her left arm was so damaged she was glad it was not a
delicate internal organ. The palm of her left hand
still ached dully as if it were dead. At first she
explored the manor, then she began to explore the
courtyard and some of the side buildings, the
brewhouse, the bakehouse, the granary, the smithy, the
servant's quarters and the barracks. The reactions she
got from the men were always the same. They noticed her
even in her current condition, but none of them was
willing to touch her with a ten-foot pole. Her daddy
had schooled them well.
---------------

This morning she had decided to take a look at the
stables or the carriage house as her mother called it.
The pungent aroma of horse manure assaulted her
nostrils as she entered. She recognized one of the
young men from the garrison hard at work mucking out a
stall. "Dorety!"

"The young man bowed. Good morning Lady Bellany."

It seemed after he greeted her that he could only look
at her feet. Bellany bent at the waist and lowered
herself down her right crutch a ways. From there she
looked up into the young man's face and waved with one
of her fingers.

Dorety grinned, "Uh, Lady Bellany, what are ye doing
down there?"

"My feet seemed to be the only thing you'd look at,"
Bellany said.

"Er because I'm just a commoner, ma'am," Dorety said.

"Before my abduction, was I just a little high and
haughty?" Bellany asked.

"Er yes ma'am; in a manner of speakin' you were,"
Dorety affirmed.

"I suppose I had a chaste reputation to uphold, moral
purity, a lady's pride and all that," Bellany said.

"Yes ma'am," Dorety said.

"It's a shame Dorety but let's be realistic, after a
hundred orcs bed a woman by force -chaste reputation
gone, moral purity gone, pride gone. It is just Bellany
now. Currently people only call me 'Lady' because my
father is a baronet. Before they had more traditional
reasons," Bellany said.

"Ya took a fall," Dorety said.

"I took a hard fall. Now I'm Lady Damaged Goods. I
doubt any nobleman would seriously consider marrying
me. It would be hard on a nobleman's pride. For one
thing he would think he was getting seconds after an
orc tribe, and for another his prospects of getting
children if a year of orcs produced none would be nill.
Lady Damaged Goods is barren and has been ill used."
Bellany remained bent over and realized she was not
going to be able to haul herself up her crutch as
easily as she had lowered herself down. Dorety finished
the stall he was working on and opened the next one.
She wanted to turn to look at Dorety in his new
location but instead she merely craned her neck and
looked behind her.

The black stallion in the newly opened stall trumpeted,
lipped the air, surged forward and nipped Bellany on
the rump.

"Ouch!" Bellany squealed as she looked up behind her
and inadvertently gazed between the forelegs of the
prancing stallion. She caught a glimpse of his
underside and the enormous hose that was drawing down
from its sheath in front of a pair of peach-sized
balls. Heat radiated through her. She had been working
to see a man's equipment for several days and had
gotten absolutely nowhere. What she had just seen was
ponderously male. It made her grimace as if one of her
pains had struck her.

Dorety was trying his darndest not to laugh as he
turned the horse and half dragged him into the finished
stall.

Bellany stared open-mouthed at the animal, fully
realizing the significance of the phrase, "Hung like a
stallion."

Dorety got the horse in the stall but he started
laughing and try as he might he could not stop. "I am
so sorry HAHAHUHAA, Lady Belan-HEHEHAHAAW, Starstruck
isn't usually a biter. He only nips mares in season
before he studs'em. HEHEHE I think he's in love!
HAAWHAHAHEHE!"

"First orcs, and now the only male that appreciates me
nips and clops around on hooves?" Bellany groaned in
exasperation. "I've taken a fall alright. Just then one
of her pains did hit her and she doubled over all the
more and screwed up her face against it."

Sorry Lady, I should have known bein' bent over was
going to hurt you. Dorety got his laughter under
control. "Here, let me help you up."

"Thank you," Bellany said, pulling on the young man's
lust as he pulled her up.

"Oooooo, you are a pretty Lady Belly; you really grew
up nice while ye were a slave girl. I'd be havin' about
the same reaction as Starstruck right now except bein'
a man I'm smart enough ta know Lord Norwit would flay
me alive even if he caught me with his new un-chaste-ed
daughter. You may know your reputation is shot, but I
get the feeling your daddy thinks people ought not to
count the orcs again' you since it wasn't yer fault for
bein' abducted. I guess that means ye've got the worst
of both worlds."

"Oh wonderful! It just isn't fair," Bellany said.

"Sometimes things in life just go from bad to worse,
Lady," Dorety agreed.

Bellany swore like a pirate in her mind as she crossed
Dorety off her short list. She was going to go mad for
sure and Dorety had been the last man on her short
list. She had already tried the mason from Li'Yeiraun,
and several boys from the garrison. There had to be
some fool man at Keep Norwit who would bed her now and
think about the consequences later. Bellany grimaced.
Was it really fair for her to seduce someone because
she was crazy for a man? She was not thinking straight.
All she would get was a moment's pleasure, but any man
she bedded was risking his life. Yet, something was
gnawing at her memory, something very important.

Bellany wandered to the bake house. Chef Dower was a
middle-aged man who, along with his wife, saw to all of
the cooking at Keep Norwit. He liked bread making best.

"Good day, Chef Dower. Did I ever cook before the
accident?" Bellany asked.

"Mmmph, no milady, methinks you spent most of yer time
at the church with your mother," Dower said.

"I'm bored. Would you teach me how you make bread
today?" Bellany asked.

"Aye, if ya like. If ye've got the stamina fer it, by
the end of the day perhaps ye'll be learned enough to
make the muffins for yer family's dinner. Wash up yer
hands and then we'll get to work," Dower said.

Bellany passed the day learning to make bread and
trying not to think about where she was going to find a
man to bed her.

At dinner that night, Chef Dower made an announcement.

"Lady Bellany was bored today and wanted to learn to
make bread. I taught her a few things and she picked
'em right up. By the end of the day she was doing so
well, she made tonight's muffins. I dare say I figured
I'd have to walk her through it, but I hardly needed to
do a thing." The chef bowed and the maids served
dinner.

"I had no idea you were interested in cooking, Bellany.
I thought you felt domestic chores were beneath you."
Lady Norwit said.

Bellany shrugged. "There is art to cooking, I think,
mother. Besides, I don't imagine I'll be marrying a
baron anymore. I might need to have some skills."

Eleanor Norwit looked distinctly uncomfortable for a
moment, "I suppose it would not hurt. You did very
well, honey. The muffins are delicious."

"Thank you mother," Bellany said.

Bellany was confined to Keep Norwit by her infirmity.
Her life felt so dreary. She was learning music, and
she spent some of her afternoons baking bread with Chef
Dower. Sometimes her innards kept her twitching around
in pain for hours and she did nothing at all. Lately
those times seemed to come more often. She had tried to
stop attempting to seduce men but had not entirely
succeeded, but where she had failed, they had passed
with flying colors. None of them would get close. The
men her father kept at his keep were loyal to him to a
fault. The ache between her legs was consuming, and no
matter how many times she teased herself off with her
fingers, her need did not diminish one whit. If
anything, it grew stronger.

Early Saturday night she tossed uncomfortably in bed
more asleep than awake. She flashed back into the
dreamy realm of memory. She was dancing in front of a
hoard of pirates. Lust was buzzing through her body
like a swarm of crazed honeybees. Her need was so deep,
so powerful. The pirates had aroused her to a fever
pitch. Bellany woke with a start. Her body was bathed
in sweat. The screaming need she felt in her loins was
driving her mad.

----

In a large master suite nearby, Lord Darl Norwit
settled into bed next to his wife, "Did you talk to
Grace today Eleanor?"

"Yes, dear. It was not good news. Bellany has more
blood in her urine. It's been getting worse ever since
church or before. I guess getting her back to what had
been her joy has been a disaster. She remembered
nothing and snapped at the reverend. I know being
cooped up in her bedroom drives her to distraction, but
it seems all this moving around has raised her spirits
but damaged her within. I am not sure what to do,
Darl," Eleanor said.

Darl shook his head, "I am sorry Bellany snapped at the
reverend. The case of Brianna Barter must have struck a
chord after the abuse she suffered at the hands of the
orcs. I feel badly about it since arguing with Baron
Dealrath on the subject. The Avengenes have forbidden
me to deviate from their official story, but there
were... rumors about Evangeline's excesses for years
before he died. I should have done more to follow up on
them.  What little checking I did do never turned up
any hard evidence. There was a young woman named Brenda
Dawes who went to the trouble of seeking an audience,
but she was crippled in a bad fall shortly before she
was to appear and had to cancel her appointment."

"Darl, don't agonize over Evangeline. Whatever his
sins, he has passed on and your allegiance is to
Avengene. It is no wonder Bellany snapped at Reverend
Wright after her ordeal with the orcs and what with her
health slipping so dangerously. Grace said she was
passing an alarming amount of blood in her urine. I am
very worried," Eleanor said.

"It is horrible she is getting worse after she has
already suffered so much, but we knew it might happen.
Leech Fraksen feared extensive internal damage. The
strange thing is that sergeant Lime came to me with a
disturbing report about Bellany today. I could hardly
believe it, but after questioning the men involved and
recalling the way I saw her look at the men as she
watched them practice, I realized it must be true,"
Darl Norwit said.

"What is it, dear?" Eleanor inquired pensively.

"Bellany has been trying to get friendly with some of
my men," Darl said.

"No," Eleanor replied incredulously.

Baronet Norwit nodded, "I board my finest here at the
keep, and they watch out for each other. They all had
essentially the same concern. They would not have said
anything but they were worried that Bellany has become
a beautiful young woman and that eventually one of them
might slip up. The others would feel as though they
were partially responsible for the man's hanging if
they had failed to report the earlier incidents to
their superiors. Thankfully she has done nothing
particularly untoward, just leading remarks and
meaningful expressions, but when five men come forward,
I am inclined to believe them."

"I cannot believe that as bruised as she is she can
still be overcome with desire." Eleanor shook her head.
Yet, five of your handpicked men would not lie about
such a thing. I do not know what the orcs did to her,
but perhaps she associates sex with survival."

Darl cleared his throat. "Yes I could see how that
might happen since she was a slave of the orcs."

"Darl, whether it upsets her or not, I think you had
better take her crutches. She needs to recover, and
this mischief she has been getting into has not been
helping," Eleanor said.

Darl nodded, "I will pick them up when I visit her in
the morning."

"Thank you dear. I think it's the right thing to do,"
Eleanor said.

------


Bellany's sleep was fitful; pain did not allow her to
rest easy, but the pain was not as bad as the hunger.
She was positively ravenous for a man and she did not
understand why but her lust was even harder to sleep
with than the pain. While Bellany looked at the
ceiling, her fingers strayed to caress her breasts and
to stroke her mound.  She was afraid. Whether she liked
to admit it or not, she was well aware of the
increasing blood in her urine and of the fact that her
kidneys seemed to be falling apart. The increasing pain
she felt from some of her internal organs scared her.
She might not be able to move much longer. If a kidney
failed, she could be bedridden again or much, much
worse. She plunged a finger into her heat. She needed a
man but her mobility was limited to the keep and might
be even more severely limited by her condition if she
got any worse.

When she realized she was fantasizing about hoards of
pirates, she stopped herself. "I really should have
been romanticizing about the perfect man to bed and
eventually marry," she though. A second finger slid
into her heat to join the first. Bellany looked out the
window at the blackness.

"He would be sweet, strong, and somehow noble but not
necessarily in the sense of being an aristocrat, and
he'd have to be fearless or foolhardy, or down right
dim-witted since daddy would hang him high if he bedded
me. There I go ruining my perfect man," Bellany
groaned. She slipped a third finger in to join the
other two. Maybe he could be a high priest or a mage or
someone with healing powers. I am sure there are plenty
mages and high priests running around Keep Norwit at
this hour," Bellany sighed.

She had hit rock bottom. She was dieing and there was
not a soul out there who could help her. Maybe she
could not prevent her death, but she needed a man, an
orc or even the troll shaman from her dreams. She was
so desperate she did not even care. She had to have
someone before she died or she would take her own life
to stop the wicked gnawing of her lust. The darkness of
the heavens mirrored her fait. A cool breath of wind
shifted Bellany's hair. She smiled, her eyes wet with
tears. The clouds had shifted and between them shown a
single bright star. A fourth finger deliberately
stretched her wider. She realized who her man must be.
She would go to him tonight or die trying.

The story continues in [Rapina]053 Summertime

copyright 2001-2002 by Rapina


The Chronicles of Rapina, Chapters 49-52

Land Of Desolation
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[Rapina]049 Land of Desolation
[Rapina]050 Lady Doe
[Rapina]051 Leeched
[Rapina]052 A Night As Dark As Sable

[Rapina]049 Land of Desolation

Rapina screamed and shuddered as a massive orgasm shook
her sweat-soaked body.  She bucked her hips forward and
backward gasping with pleasure as she came.  She only
barely managed to touch the minds of the smiths at the
last second, sending a calming message at last.   The
bucking of the two half orcs began to slow to a saner
pace.  Rapina panted for breath as the two smiths
continued to plunge in and out of her, their glistening
pink spiral-ribbed cocks teasing each other through the
flesh between her vagina and rectum.  Her ride had been
a bit wilder than she had expected.  On her first
orgasm she had lost control and touched their minds
with her own lust.  Her second orgasm had carried a
message of alliance, and after that her orgasms had
become so intense she had done nothing but buck and
squeal with pleasure.

"Hruuuuuuunk!"  Daing grunted long and hard as he spent
yet again into the raging lusts of Chontral Melina.
His orgasm was long and intense.  Her charmed cunt
squeezed him rhythmically as if to milk the very last
drop of lust from his loins.  He could not remember
ever having creamed a woman so many times without a
rest.

Droplets of sweat shook from Tangzar's fatigued body as
he slapped his loins against Melina's generous jiggling
butt.   "Rreeeeeeehruunk!" He squealed as he jetted hot
cum deep into her clutching rump.  Her caress along the
sides of Daing's face was light with mystic precision
as she pushed her firm cheeks against Tzangzar arching
her back to receive the power of his spend.

"Clang... ... ... Clang... ... ...Clang."

Tzangzar collapsed on Melina's back and perked his
ears.   The clanging on the gate was spaced as though
the one knocking had grown fatigued with repeated
effort and had decided to clang the gate regularly but
much less frequently.  Tzangzar groaned and pried
himself off Melina's back.  His knees were a little
weak causing him to squat as he walked before he
recovered himself.  Tzangzar peered out the door and
across the courtyard.  "Chontral Oagmak is waiting.
There is someone with him carrying a suit of spiked
plate.  Perhaps it must be resized."

Each day for the next three days, Rapina was called
back to the smiths for fitting and to heat their
hardened rods in the forge of her loins.  The party
among the Ragebloods seemed to go in cycles of lust,
drunkenness and insensibility.  Rapina ate and drank
modestly, washed frequently and slaked the lusts of her
kahlorcs interminably.  Her grasp of orcish improved
from use and exposure to words and phrases she had not
yet learned. During the times most of the orcs slept,
Chontral Oagmak gave her additional instruction in
orcish.  He felt it was in the best interest of the
tribe for her to speak their language well.

By the morning of the fourth day, Kahl Rageblood had
drunk up the last of the alcoholic swill they had
bought in town.  The hung-over orcs began to pack up
their belongings at a pace that was too slow even to be
called leisurely.  By afternoon it was obvious camp
would not be struck until the following morning.  In
the afternoon, Krahl Hluk and two bodyguards took
Rapina to the armorers to retrieve the finished armor.

When they arrived, Hluk began to don his re-sized
armor.  Tzangzar showed Rapina how to put on and adjust
her foundation garments and armor pieces.  Since orcs
never stopped growing, provisions had been made on most
pieces of her armor for some adjustment in the fit.
Tzangzar had worked with a seamstress in town to
produce Rapina's foundation garments.  These included
dark elven style panties in a variety of colors that
featured reinforced openings at their crotches, and
matching bustiers that cupped the lower compass of her
breasts leaving her nipples accessible to roving lips.
Next there was a tunic and leggings of silk padding,
notable for the areas they did not cover.

The armor itself consisted of several parts.  The
helmet was a smooth deep dwarven plate helm with an
open face from the forehead down and a nose guard.  It
had flared edges at the bottom to keep the rain from
running down her neck and an optional dark-elven chain
veil that could go across her face from just below her
eyes.  The breastplate was a combination of a half
breastplate of deep dwarven metal that covered her
upper chest and back and dark-elven chainmail that
covered her down to her hips.  Her breasts were
contained in expandable banded cups that were built
into the breastplate.  A band of plate went over her
hips. Both her banded skirts and her chainmail leggings
attached to it.  The dark-elven chain leggings were cut
high towards her hips almost to the point of being a
strap at the hip and low towards her inner thighs so
that they left her crotch and butt uncovered beneath
her banded skirts.

"It is beautiful," Rapina beamed hugging each of the
smiths in turn once she had donned her new armor.  Both
of them looked very proud.

"It is only fitting that a Chontral's armor should fit
the quality of her chont," Tzangzar bowed.

"Chont schmont.  You shared the full measure of your
robust charms, juicy cunt and thucking prowess with us,
Melina; It was our pleasure to share the full measure
of our smithing prowess with you," Daing beamed.
"There is some extra mail and plate in the sack there
for repairs.  We want you to be protected, but we know
you will not always be near us when your armor is
damaged."

"Thank you mastersmith Daing, and thank you mastersmith
Tzangzar.  I will think of you whenever my armor
protects me and each time I put it on or take it off,
or thuck while wearing it."

Daing grinned like a pirate, "Hup, don't thank us yet,
the armor has not yet undergone its final testing.
Kahl Rageblood has given us the opportunity to see that
your armor has properly grown more robust to contain
your swollen udds, but the final test of your armor has
not yet been done."

Rapina blushed; the long party had left her breasts
flushed and swollen firmer and larger than ever before.


Hluk finished donning his re-sized spiked plate chief's
armor.  He moved around in it, and then nodded to the
smiths in satisfaction.

"Kahl Hluk, since you are Kahl of Rageblood, would you
like to be the first to test Chontral Melina's new
armor?  It is designed so she can practice her chont
while she and her partner are both armored."

Hluk grinned, "I will test it."

"My friend Tzangzar suggested this refinement.  Daing
pinched together two small studs spaced far apart just
above Rapina's right breast.  He pulled down the bands
over her breast so that they nested together to cup
only the lower part of her breast, exposing the lion's
share of it to the air.

"Clever," Khal Hluk smiled.  He kissed Rapina's swollen
right nipple then undid the cup over her left breast
and slid the bands down to land a kiss on her second
nipple.

"Most cunning." Rapina grinned.

Hluck removed his codpiece, lifted Rapina up, and laid
her over a large anvil standing in the courtyard.  He
lifted her banded skirt and watched the contour reverse
to hug her body.  "Good, even an orc with skirts in
front would be able to thuck Chontral Melina."  Hluck
entered Rapina and began to pump.  His spikes slid
harmlessly across her banded skirt.  "It is working."
Hluk quickened his pace and thrust more forcefully.
"Fine... armor... Uuuhhrrruuuuk!" Hluk grunted as he
jetted orc cum into Rapina's lively cunny.

Rapina moaned.  She felt so wonderfully stuffed with
energy but she gluttonously drank up what Hluck had to
offer nonetheless.

At that moment, there was a clanging at the gate.  It
was Chontral Oagmak with a huge escort.  The smiths
hastened to let him in.

"Chontral Melina, this is Drugarg, half ogre servant of
T'zar, high chontral of the orcs.  He brings a summons
from T'zar.  The High Chontral wishes to meet with the
chontrals of Rageblood."

Oagmak was usually impassive, but he seemed nervous.
Rapina hoped that was not a bad sign.

"Kahl Hluk, may we have your leave to go?  The High
Shaman's chont is great.  He is especially well known
for his curses.  We must not offend him by withholding
our presence."

"Then you must go, Chontral.  I will wait for you at
the camp," Hluk said.

"I do not know how long he will keep us, perhaps a long
time.  I have brought Chontral Melina's things and my
own.  If Kahl Rageblood leaves before we are able to
come, we will catch up with you."

Hluk nodded.  He embraced Oagmak.  May the lie of the
bones be with you, Chontral.

"And you Kahl," Oagmak said.

Oagmak turned to Rapina, "We must pack your armor and
weapons, it would be an offense to come into the abode
of the High Chontral obviously prepared for war.  Since
our tribe is soon to leave, will the High Chontral
forgive us our luggage?"

Drugarg grunted and nodded in the affirmative, "High
Chontral T'zar has a place you can leave it."

Oagmak nodded, "Then get into some clothing quickly
Chontral Melina.  We must not keep High Chontral T'zar
waiting."

The journey to the high shaman's abode took some time.
Whenever Drugarg got ahead or was preoccupied with the
trail, Oagmak whispered to Rapina in the common tongue
of humans.  Rapina in turn whispered back.

"The high shaman is very powerful.  I fear him.  He
acts in unpredictable ways, but we must obey him.  He
is very powerful and his curses have a very long
reach."

"Is he an orc?" Rapina asked.

"He is half orc, half dark elf like Tzangzar, but much
older and darker," Oagmak said.

"Does he have servitors?" Rapina asked.

"Very few.  He does not need them.  Everyone is so
afraid of his magic they obey," Chontral Oagmak said.

"Does he have a woman?" Rapina asked.

"He used to have one, a slave, a young Avengene
noblewoman.  The rumor is he cared about her, so he
sacrificed her to gain some new spell or power.  She
would not have been sufficient as a sacrifice unless he
cared about her a great deal," Chontral Oagmak said.

"Eeuww, Uhoh," Rapina gulped.

"If I had known before we came to Joodig, I..." Oagmak
low voice trailed off.

"Whatever happens, it is not your fault.  You could not
have known," Rapina said.

The tunnels Drugarg led them through were long and
winding.  They crossed steamy water several times and
the air grew warmer as they approached the lair of the
high shaman.  Soon they could not see farther than ten
feet in front of them because of the steam that
billowed through the caverns.  Rapina wondered how
Drugarg could find his way.

Suddenly Drugarg stopped and pushed a stone slab into
the wall.  Once past the slab they reached an area
where bones and beads hung from the walls and ceilings
in strange constellations.

"You can put your tings dere in dat alcove next to da
chest Chontral Oagmak, and Chontral Melina, you can put
your tings on top of dat chest," Drugarg rumbled.

Once through a couple of partitions made of collages of
bones and beads, they came to a small raised pool with
a thick border.  The odd half-orc that squatted near
the pool waved as they approached.  Rapina looked at
him.  He was beefier even than Tzangzar, but he was
blacker as well, his hair, his nose, his skin, all of
him.

"High Shaman, T'zar pointed to a small cup sitting on
the edge of the pool, "Chontral Oagmak."  He pointed to
another cup on the edge of the pool opposite Oagmak's
cup, "Chontral Melina." Then he sat down in front of
his cup.  Welcome Chontrals.  Let us drink, then we
will speak.  T'zar tossed the contents of his cup down
his throat.  Oagmak did the same.  Rapina hesitated for
a second and then followed suit.  How is your chont
coming, Oagmak?   "Slow master.  I can cast the bones,
but I lack practical powers.  Were it not for Chontral
Melina, the Ragebloods would have lost our chief and
other warriors as well to the wounds of Avengene."

"Chontral Melina, you wear upon your neck the jool with
no clasp that you cannot remove.  It makes you slave to
a master.  I am the high shaman, sworn enemy of
Avengene.  I can help you; come with me," Chontral
T'zar said.

T'zar led the way through the steamy chambers and
through a curtain of bone into a room that was eerily
dry as though no steam could pass its hanging of strung
teeth.  There were many shelves cut into the living
rock walls of the chamber and these were filled with
vials and tiny boxes and baskets of herbs and reagents.
T'zar took a small vial of black liquid and a brush of
black bristles and motioned Rapina to him.  "Hold your
hair back, Chontral Melina.  Rapina complied.

High Shaman T'zar began moaning utterances as he
painted the thick black liquid on her jeweled collar.
He painted the entire thing except for two narrow
bands, one below each of her ears.  He then corked the
bottle and took Rapina's hand.  Follow me quickly.  He
ran, nearly pulling Rapina off her feet.  Oagmak
followed.  He stood Rapina in the middle of a room
across from a pool filled with a multitude of tiny
colored stones or beads.  He stopped and steadied her
and then began droning an incantation while motioning
Oagmak to stand behind Rapina.

The black substance had dried and now began to crackle
and fissure.  "Oagmak grasp, pull and lift just as I
do."   T'zar grasped Rapina's collar in the front and
pulled.  Oagmak did the same in the rear.  The bands on
the collar below her ears that had not been coated by
the dark liquid stretched like hot taffy.  The orcs
stretched and lifted the collar right off over her
head.  "Now let go."  The high shaman told Oagmak and
then quickly tossed the collar into the pool on the
other side of the room as if it had just stung him.
Rapina could see the collar return to its former shape
in mid air, but when it hit the water, the water
churned and bubbled so that she could no longer see it.


"You see there is nothing to it.  Now let us return to
my chambers, we have much to speak about," High Shaman
T'zar said.  When they returned they found the cups had
already been refilled.  "Let us drink."

Each chontral tossed down his or her cup.  Rapina
wrinkled her nose.  The first cup had tasted something
like the swill the Ragebloods had been drinking, but
this second cup was distinctly bitter.  The others did
not seem to notice.

"Now, Oagmak, your chont is worthless to save the
warriors of Kahl Rageblood.  Many do not respect you.
They say your powers are weak and worthless.  You are
as a deep pool covered by strong ice.  Your chont can
be seen but not reached.  You might practice for years
and never see more than your reflection.  The ice must
be broken.  Few living could ever give that priceless
gift to you.  Smear this ointment in your eyes.  T'zar
gave a small stone vial to Oagmak and then began
droning incantations as Oagmak did as he was bidden.

T'zar looked deep into Oagmak's dilated pupils, "The
coming moments will be etched into your memory.  You
will never forget them for as long as you live.  T'zar
began casting another spell, droning and moving his
hands in bizarre patterns.   T'zar then took a small
knife from his pocket and made a cut down each of his
forearms.  Blood welled from the cuts.  "I have imbued
you with the ability to cast a healing spell one time,
one time.  Use my power now and remember everything,
everything, the shaping of the magic, the words, the
inflections, everything!  Nothing can ever be forgotten
from this moment, nothing."

Oagmak blinked and began casting, the incantations, the
power it all seemed so simple, so unforgettable.  At
the end he placed his hands on T'zar's right arm and
let the power flow.  The cut shrank and disappeared.

T'zar smiled for a moment, "Now repeat the spell from
memory.  Use your own power this time."

"But I," Chontral Oagmak stammered.

Tzar's eyes drilled into Oagmak's soul, "Do it, you
will succeed."

Oagmak remembered; how could he forget?  He wove the
words and gestures and shaped the power.  The spell was
etched perfectly into his mind and now he etched it yet
again, this time his own chont sealed the wound on High
Chontral T'zar's left arm.

Welcome to the circle of power, Oagmak.  Tzar gestured
at Rapina, "One priceless gift for another."  T'zar
took Oagmak's nerveless hand and pressed several gems
into it. "For Kahl Hluk," he said.  Practice your spell
at least once a day this month.  You may go now
Chontral Oagmak."

Oagmak looked at Rapina.  A tear rolled down his cheek.
He would never forget this moment; he could never
forget it.  He had gained and lost so much.  Oagmak
walked out as if in a trance.  When he reached the room
with his gear Drugarg handed it to him and then took
his hand and led him back to Jooldig.

With glassy eyes, Rapina witnessed what had transpired
without reaction.  When T'zar lifted her and set her in
the center of the pool she only stared at him as he
arranged her body in a seated position.  He took a
chime and rattles from a nearby alcove and began to
dance around her.   A sound like the rushing of water
filled her ears.  She felt like a zombie, she could
hardly think.  She closed her eyes to concentrate but
her thoughts were as sluggish as the black, frozen
river she was seeing in her mind.  Frozen? No sluggish,
viscous.  Her world was dark oranges and browns; the
terrain was barren and rocky and there was no sky.
Instead, a dark orange mist offered a small bit of
light and vistas of barren stone lost in the distance.
A woman came to her, but as she drew near Rapina knew
she was not a woman.  Her eyes were as flame red as her
hair; she was translucent and non-corporieal.  When she
saw Rapina she stepped *into* her.

"We meet again child, and this time you have no power
to thwart me!" Vulvilea growled.

The woman was in her mind; she was taking over.
Instinctively Rapina struggled but she felt so
sluggish.  That voice, that voice in her mind.  She
knew it.  Rapina gasped.  It was the lust spirit.  The
lust spirit from the dreamstone agate she had, had as a
child.

Vulvilea's laugh was light yet sinister, oh yes, yes I
can feel your power T'zar.  The child is fighting; help
me.  Bring me forth.

"Nooooo!"  Rapina began to cry and shake.  She looked
around her at the desolate landscape for a moment.
What could she do?  Where was she?

Vulvilea opened her living eyes, the same ones that had
belonged to Rapina a moment ago and smiled.

"You said the instant you appeared..." Tzar held a
brazier of smoldering herbs under her nose and watched
her breath deeply.

"Ah, my head is clearing.  Yes, yes spin an illusion of
your Bellany in my mind...  Yes I see.  Vulvilea felt
Rapina's breasts.  The reserves were more than
sufficient for the task T'zar required of her.  Mmmm,
yes this should be simple enough, first her hair, all
of it...  Rapina's hair began to curl then it
lengthened and fell to waves as the color lightened
from black, to deep brown to a ruddy auburn.  Now the
face as I promised... Her green eyes turned hazel and
changed shape as the features of her face altered
themselves.  Now I must hear her voice in my mind,
simple enough... the bones of her neck altered to
resemble the girl in her mind as her vocal cords
changed to produce the girl's voice.   Vulvilea shifted
the structure of her legs and arms, her abdomen and
chest.  Only minor adjustments were necessary since the
two women had been approximately the same size.  Are
you sure you want me to change her butt and breasts?
Rapina's are so much more delicious," Vulvilea said.

The high shaman nodded.

"Very well but it is better for energy reserves if the
mass of flesh is more generous.  Rapina has her
reserves up here.   Vulvilea squeezed her generous
breasts as she changed the nipples to look like the
woman's in the illusion.  It needs to be a soft area
that can expand, the butt, the belly or breasts what
part of her would you like augmented.  I will shrink
the rest to your lady's proportions...  "Gaah!  The
bitch is fighting me again.  I cannot concentrate; I
will have to do the rest later.  You have her visage
and more; the letter of my promise is fulfilled.  I
wear the face of Bellany Norwit.  I will fulfill the
spirit of our bargain when this headstrong bitch Rapina
is sealed in her grave!"

T'zar nodded and tugged Vulvilea's arm.  They ran
through several tapestries of bone.  Then they entered
a room with a pentacle etched into the stone floor and
colored with gold leaf.

For a moment, Rapina was lost in her tears, but she had
never gained anything by crying.  She had to pull
herself together.  She had to fight, and fight she did
as futile as it seemed.  She could hear Vulvilea
talking to T'zar, "Seal me in my grave?"  Rapina's
sluggish mind grasped the phrase and then she realized.
This was the land of the dead.  This was where the lust
spirit Vulvilea had gone when she died, all except the
bit of her that she had stored in the dreamstone.
Vulvilea's lord had been killed as had she, and they
had gone to land of the dead... and its lord was...

T'zar pushed Vulvilea down onto the pinnacle.  "Your
hands," he said closing manacles over her wrists and
then moving to her ankles.

Vulvilea glared at the shaman.

"The spell involves grave pain, but you must not break
the circle," He said as he manacled her ankles to the
floor."

Vulvilea gasped.  Suddenly her eyes filled with fear,
"Hurry!" She screamed.

Mortaebius was the lord of the dead and this was his
land!  Rapina realized as she began a prayer of
invocation known only to select priests and a single
naughty deaconess:

"Mortaebius, Sovereign of the dead, thy reign is
threatened - in thine own kingdom. Hail Mortaebius Lord
of the dead, I invoke thee!"


"Thy dead escape the grave by a profane hand."
Hail Mortaebius, spirit of mortomancy, I invoke thee!"


"Thy power is usurped by an untamed spirit."
Hail, Mortabius soul of the dead, I invoke thee!"

"Thy divinity is profaned! Hail Mortaebius, God of the
dead, I invoke thee!"

Tzar retrieved a vial from a nearby shelf and poured
the effervescent liquid it contained into the
pinnacle's channel.  He flicked a mystic spark from his
fingertip and set the fluid ablaze.

Pain joined fear as the flames began to sear her
without visible damage.  "Quickleeeee!"  She wailed.

T'zar raised an eyebrow and took up his rattles.  He
began to dance around the flaming pentacle, droning and
squealing as he danced an intricate pattern...

"Treacherous snake! Vulvilea writhed in pain.  I know
that ritual.  You seek to banish me!  Aaaiii!  Vulvilea
wailed as the flames burned her without apparent
damage.  "You have summoned me hither to change the
girl's body, and now you seek to banish me?  What!?  Do
you seek to replace my spirit with the spirit of Belany
Norwit?   Oh you soft fool!  You seek to bring her back
from the dead after you sacrificed her.  Your love for
her blinds you to your folly!"

Rapina completed the prayer of invocation.  She did not
think about the fact that she should not have known it.
There had been a locking cabinet in Guardian Rames'
room.  She was a patient and curious girl; she had
checked it every night they made love after he fell
asleep.  One night she found it had been left open.
One of his priestly books was inside.  She had studied
some of the prayers it held adding them to the
boundless number she enjoyed impressing Guardian Thane
with.  Using the prayer of a full priest of The Shroud
in Mortaebius' own domain might mean her death, but
what choice did she have?  She was nearly dead already
and T'zar and Vulvilea were busy making it a permanent
condition.  Rapina was too busy invoking death to
contemplate death, and then she felt...death, pervasive
death, all-encompassing death.  Death welled up in her
from nowhere, from everywhere, lifeless and numb and
final.  Death was she.  She was death.  Death.

T'zar danced and whirled and groaned his incantations.
He had nearly completed the circle when he felt a
presence.  He did not let it break his concentration.
The room began to rattle.  An earthquake?  No, it was
only the bones, all the bones began to rattle in
unison, the sound was deafening.  High Shaman T'zar's
concentration was not rattled with the bones.  When
Vulvilea's eyes turned to black holes, his
concentration still did not waver.

He was about to complete his dance, just another
syllable.  A bone claw separated itself from the
convulsing mobile across the room, bolted forth and
pierced his throat.  The syllable was left unspoken,
the rhythm broken.  Vulvilea's chains rusted and turned
to dust.  Her stolen flesh began to putrefy and rot off
her bones as she raised upright without having to first
get to her knees.  Her left hand touched his heart.  He
felt his power, his life and his soul wrenched from his
rotting body.  All he could do was scream, a long
silent scream.

----+======+++======+----

[Rapina]050 Lady Doe

As the shaman's last warding spell faded, the shadows
beyond the pentacle stirred and disgorged a lithe
skeleton.  She scouted briefly and then Rames appeared
followed by Thane dressed in his mortancer robes.

"It was Mortaebius or one of his greatest minions, I
feel sure of it.  The presence, did you feel it
Elizabetta?" Thane's deathly voice rasped through his
robes.

"The master or his hand," the skeleton nodded in the
affirmative."

"For us to have felt the presence while on the shadow
plane and in Jooldig as they appear to call the orc
town, it had to be powerful.  It was fortunate that we
picked this time to map the caverns and search for
Rapina."

"Rapina!"  Rames ran to the pentacle and lifted the
woman who lay there.  Her left hand had been pushed
against the ribcage in the midst of a pile of blackened
bones. Uh! Rames nearly dropped the woman when he
realized her dead hair was a dull, ruddy auburn. Her
clothes fell to dust as he lifted her.  He turned her
over in his arms. Her face was not Rapina's. Much of
her hair fell out and joined her clothing as he turned
her, yet she was breathing, just barely breathing.

"Unfortunately, it is not Rapina," Thane said.  "She
does appear to be just barely alive, however. Her skin
is a mess, as though it had been sorely damaged and
then partially restored."

"But her size and her behind is a lot like Rapina's,
without seeing her face I thought..." Rames choked back
a tear.

"Odd, she is wearing Rapina's mage light, but there is
no question that she is a different young woman," Thane
said.  Hold her steady. I will have to bestow a portion
of my life force on her or I believe she will die
shortly. Thane droned arcane syllables and shaped his
bestowal spell with mystic gestures. He placed one hand
over the girl's eyes and another just below her ample
breasts and poured a portion of his life force into
her. He shook himself against the pain and then drank a
healing potion to restore his life force. It was a
testament to the seriousness of her wounds that she did
not wake up. "Strange, it appears that the girl did the
draining of the blackened skeleton. I do not understand
why that would have caused nearly lethal damage to
herself.  Necromancy! Thane exclaimed as he looked
around.

"Hmm?" Rames asked.

Thane examined the blackened skeleton. "I believe this
was a living man or orc not long ago. Now it appears as
if he were long dead and then some. The spell used to
drain the life out of him must have been exceedingly
powerful because I can still see the dweomer of
necromancy clearly by using mage sight. There is a
powerful residue on the girl's left palm as well. She
looks awfully young to be a necromancer with such
astonishing power. I'd say she's about Rapina's age,
wouldn't you, Karmoz?

Rames sniffed but pulled himself together, "Yes
Mortancer Kroz."

"And you are right; her rump is like Rapina's but the
shape is not quite the same because their hips are
shaped just a bit differently. She does appear to be
approximately the same height and weight as Rapina and
her build is similar.  I believe we saw Rapina's pack
on the way in, sitting on a trunk. Thane collected
generous samples of the dust of the skeleton in several
vials as though he felt there might be some use for it.
After sweeping up most of the skeleton's dust, he
inspected the pinnacle. "The chains appear to have
rusted through; again I see the aura of necromancy. The
room verily reeks with it." After several more minutes
of investigation Thane packed up his samples. Let us
see if that really was Rapina's gear. Bring the girl.
This is no place for a human woman."

Thane looked at his ring, "Astonishing."

"What is it?" Rames asked.

"Rapina's collar must be within a hundred yards or so
of us to be faintly registering in spite of the fact
that we are so deeply underground, come," Thane said.

It took several false turns and some circuitous wending
but at last Thane was led to the edge of a pool in a
nearby room. There, sitting amongst a plethora of beads
and shiny stones was Rapina's collar. "This pool is
enchanted to drain away magic, but I believe the death
of the lord of this place has diminished its power,
just as the wards that once protected the lair from
access via the shadow plane dissipated as we waited.
Even so, had we not been so very close, the collar
would never have registered. The signal is very weak
while the collar is in the pool. Thane requisitioned a
large jawbone from one of the nearby hangings and used
it to fish the collar out of the pool. Once it was out
of the water he touched his ring to it. "I think it is
all right, but the fact that it is here may mean that
the lord of this lair knew how to remove it without
harm to its wearer or himself," Thane said.

Rames shook his head.

"I am sorry, Karmoz. My hopes were dashed as well. Let
us investigate the pack we saw that looked like
Rapina's," Thane said.

A few minutes later the group had found the appropriate
room and Rames was going through a trunk of items while
Thane looked through a sack and the pack he had seen on
top of it. Elizabetta stood guard.

Thane held up a green silken bustier, "It bears the
craftsmanship of the clothier we use in Argos. This is
Rapina's pack. I recognize it and many of the items
here."

Rames held up a letter he had found in the trunk with
several dresses and an assortment of women's finery,
"It is from Bellany Norwit to her Mother, Lady Eleanor
Norwit. The stationery bears a baronetial watermark. It
is written about the start of a trip to a school in
Bristol, but she never finished it. Are you familiar
with Norwit?

"Not particularly, but I believe Rapina is from that
particular baronety of Avengene. Baronet Norwit keeps a
small baronety for the Marquis in northwest Avengene.
Being on the western border of Avengene's territory, he
is one of Daelrath's neighbors, but his keep is too far
south for the two of them to have had much regular
interaction. "I think our giants severely cramped
Norwit's style last year," Thane chuckled.

"Yes, the ruined fort where we lost Rapina was in his
territory," Rames said.

Thane nodded.

Rames held up an undergarment from the trunk. "There is
no way that woman would fit in this garment.  The bust
is much too small."

"You have a point, but being a teenager she may not
have been fully developed when she arrived here. Then
again I agree her bust is very like Rapina's but the
nipples are different. Rapina's were more distracting,
don't you think?" Thane asked.

Rames nodded, "I've seen plenty of women in my day and
very few of them are built like Rapina. This girl is
though, but it's an odd coincidence."

"Hmm, let me look at her aura. Thane shook his head.
This woman's aura is more like Rapina's than it is like
most of the normal women's I have seen, but it is
certainly not exactly like Rapina's.  I cannot make a
positive identification, either her aura is strange but
normal for her, or perhaps there is a subtle magic that
pervades her aura everywhere.

Rames carefully turned the girl over. "Is the magic
uniform everywhere?"

Thane looked carefully. "It is all so subtle and mixed
with the powerful residue of the event that transpired
at the pentacle. I would have to say that her aura is
not quite the same over the curve of her rump as if
less subtle magic had been used on it than had been
used elsewhere. It could be I am only picking up
residue of a recent spell that affected this woman's
body, but why not so much on the rump? I do not know,"
Thane said. "Turn her over again."

Rames complied and Thane studied her breasts.

"Again here I believe I see somewhat more residue on
her nipples than on the rest of her breasts and then
more again on her chest and arms.  I will admit that
there are some elements of her aura very like Rapina's,
and Rapina has an unusual aura, subtly different than
any normal woman I have looked at.  I am sure it is the
inheritance she gained from the lust spirit that
distinguishes her. I may be wrong that there are
similarities in this woman; perhaps I am thinking
wishfully in my interpretations. I am a necromancer,
not an enchanter.  My mage sight is not as sensitive as
it could be.  In any case this young woman is likely to
wake up, but we cannot simply show our faces and ask
her if she knows us. We may wish she were Rapina, but
it is far more likely that she is Bellany Norwit,"
Thane said.

Rames nodded gravely.

"I suggest our only course of action is to drop her at
a leech in the northern reaches of Norwit and observe
her remotely. The likelihood is that she is Miss Norwit
and will try to contact her parents immediately. If she
does then we will know we were engaging in wishful
thinking, if not then we shall see. Since she has no
hair or nails I will take blood and a skin sample from
one of her feet to aid in locating her. We will leave
her off with her mundane possessions. We can pawn any
valuables we do not recognize as Rapina's just as a
couple of adventurers might if seeking remuneration for
a rescue, but without wanting to face the possibility
of a nobleman's wrath for being mistaken for the ones
who kidnapped her in the first place. We will keep any
items we know belonged to Rapina..."

As he listened Rames was fiddling with the armor in the
sack next to the pack Thane had been looking at. "Look
at this, the banded armor breast cover nests down to
expose the breast," Rames said.

"For a nursing mother wearing armor?" Thane asked
dubiously.

Both began examining the armor more carefully.

"The skirts lift quite convincingly," Thane observed.

"Look at the way the tops of the leggings are cut,"
Rames said.

Thane held up a pair of silk panties with a reinforced
opening at the crotch. "This is not something the
daughter of an Avengene baronet would wear," Thane
said.

"It looks newly made, or at least newly assembled,"
Rames said.

"It looks like something Rapina might find useful, and
it is her size. Perhaps she did better with the orcs
than we had feared. In any case we will retain the
armor. Norwit would dispose of it in an instant," Thane
said.

"I have never seen finer chain, and the alloy of the
plate is not one I recognize. What of...? Rames moved
the chest away from the wall. He reached down and held
up Rapina's weapons belt with her rapier, main gauche
and several pouches."

Thane smiled. "I wondered where that might be.  No
doubt the new armor takes advantage of some metals
found only deep underground.  If this armor belonged to
Rapina, then she must have been here recently.  The
state of her collar would tend to reinforce that
hypothesis.  Yet we made a thorough search of this maze
from the shadow plane and came up with nothing more
than what we have thus far investigated."

Rames nodded as he began stuffing finery back into the
chest. "We better hurry; whoever this young woman is,
she cannot stay unconscious forever."

"Agreed," Thane said.

----+======+++======+----


[Rapina]051 Leeched

A warrior dressed in full plate and leather armor
soiled with the grime of battle walked into the leech's
clinic in the largest town in northern Norwit. He set
an unconscious woman on a bench in the waiting room.

"I am sorry, I am closing for the day," Leech Fraksen
said.

Rames dumped half the money from a small purse into his
hand, transferred it to a one of his belt pouches and
then tossed the half empty purse to the leech.  The
full helmet Rames wore further modified his disguised
voice. "Hold, leech.  There be a trunk full o' ladies
finery I left at th' back door.  Me an' me buddies, we
foun' dis 'ere wench in an orc lair up north.  She was
the most well-spoken orc slave wench we ever did meet.
She helped us getting around the lair some but she
warn't much of a warrior. She got zapped by a orc
shaman when we took da heart of deir hideaway.  She
gots some things that makes us figure she's noble born
only we don't want some lord blamin' us for stealin'
'er, so we're leaving 'er with you.  We pawned 'er
jewels at jacinth's pawn shop to float 'er rescue and
medical fees.  If you find 'er daddy, maybe 'e'll
grease yer palm too."

"But you can't just leave her here," Leech Fraksen
said.

Rames grabbed the leech's lapels and lifted him off the
floor. "Listen mister, the only thing I'm good at is
killin', understand?"

The leech nodded in terror.

"Healers are supposed to be merciful, or at least
greedy.  You go about one or the other an' leave me ta
killin.' It took me long enough ta haul the wench down
this far South. I'm not waitin' around tryin' ta find
'er dad and see if 'e likes me, understand?  Now you
jus' do your duty as a leech and let me go."

"Yes sir, I ah, of course. I'll take care of
everything. Mercy is my middle name." The leech
clutched the purse tightly.

"Gud luck then." Rames set the man down, waved briefly
and stalked out of the clinic.

----

It was nearly a day later when the doctor heard the
first moans of pain and actual consciousness from the
mystery woman's room.

"Uhhuuuuhhh." The patient moaned.  It seemed like she
had been dead, or dreaming of a bleak rocky landscape
and a dingy orange sky but she must have just been
asleep for a very long time.  Sometimes she seemed to
escape the dingy netherworld to wander through the busy
rooms of what appeared to be a small clinic, but it was
impossibly crowded.  It could not have been real unless
there was a war on.  Maybe she had dropped from
exhaustion.  Every muscle in her body ached, even quite
a few she did not know she had. Her left arm felt dead.
It throbbed with a dull pain that was at its very worse
in the palm of her left hand. She was not sure which
hurt more, her body or her head. They seemed to be
having a contest to see which could torment her more.

"Welcome back young lady. You are safe here. My name is
Leech Fraksen, what is yours?"

"It's, uh. I'm sorry?" The young woman mumbled as her
almond-shaped hazel eyes fluttered open.  She was in a
clinic's sick room.  It seemed somehow familiar to the
clinic in her dreams, yet it was so empty.

"Your name, girl, what's your name?" Leech Fraksen
asked.

The woman seemed to think for a while, "I... I don't
know," She said.

"Have you suffered a blow to the head?" Leech Fraksen
asked.

"My head hurts badly. Everywhere hurts badly. My left
arm feels numb but it still hurts badly, especially the
palm of my hand. My eyes seem okay, at least I can
see."

"I will have to examine you," Leech Fraksen said.

"Okay, just don't expect me to move anything for you.
Every single solitary muscle aches horribly."  The
vibrations from the impact of her large shield against
a practice dumby echoed through her memory as she
relived a fragment of her past.  After the hours of
martial drill her muscles ached.  The touch of Leech
Fraksen's examination broke her out of her reverie.
Her skin was far too tender to enjoy the touch of a
man.

Leech Fraksen examined the lady.  He could not help
raising an eyebrow.  She had a figure most of his
female patients would have sold their souls for.  On
the other hand, she seemed to have some sort of
bruising over her entire body except for a hand-sized
area across her eyes and another hand-sized patch just
under her breasts.  The second patch had somehow spread
upwards to encompass her breasts while still leaving
the skin between them and elsewhere around the intact
area as damaged as it was across the rest of her body.

If he had to guess he would have to say that some sort
of magical healing had been applied to the two
unusually intact areas, but that it had been inadequate
to do more than, at least temporarily, save the young
lady's life.  He might have thought she had been
severely beaten, except that the bruising was too even
and uniform to have been done with any sort of body
part or instrument.  In addition her hair had fallen
out and was now growing back in.  Currently it was no
longer than the beard of a man with five o'clock
shadow.

"Do you remember the adventurer who brought you here?"
Leech Fraksen asked.

"There was an adventurer?" The lady asked.

"I'll take that as a no.  What about being abducted by
orcs, do you remember that?" Leech Fraksen asked.

The woman squinted.  Her memory was full of dreams and
nightmares from before she had come to.  It seemed she
must have been awake before now.  The room she was in
seemed familiar, but where were all the wounded
stumping around in pain trying to get the doctor's
attention?  "Not dreams, I need memories," the woman
thought to herself. A fragment of her past surfaced
revealing a dozen lusty orcs standing around her in
rapt attention as she lay in a puddle of their cum
hungrily taking one after another. The woman blushed,
"I am sorry, I cannot remember much, but I am pretty
sure the orcs had me.  Do you know who I am?" She
asked.

"No, but your manner of speech is educated.  The
adventurer that dropped you said he and his buddies had
found you captive in an orc lair.  He said the spell of
an orc shaman had hit you.  He left a trunk of things.
If you like I can search them to see if there is any
clue to your identity."

Her memory wandered to reveal a shaman enspelling two
familiar warriors. The Norseman she recognized as one
of the bath-masters from her recent martial The
warriors vibrated in place unable to move effectively
because of the rattling spell of a troll shaman.  Her
memory held a troll shaman not an orc shaman?  Other
trolls attempted to carve her friends into meat.  The
scene shifted and she was caressing the mottled skin of
the troll shaman. She took hold of his mighty erection
and engulfed it between her legs.  Uuuurrgh, the woman
groaned in pain as the leech continued to examine her.
"You can check the trunk if you want.  I can only
remember bits and pieces. They don't even make sense.
It's like trying to remember a dream."

"I will apply clove oil to your skin and give you
something to help with the pain in your head. My wife
will be in to help you with your toilette." Leech
Fraksen said.

"Thank you," The woman whispered wanly.
---

The next day the Leech talked to the young woman after
he finished with his other patients.

"There is a man in town that draws. He offered to
sketch your picture so we could pass it around at
church and see if anyone knows you. My wife will also
search the trunk full of belongings the adventurer
dropped off for clues today. Would you like that?"
Leech Fraksen asked.

"I-I guess so. Why can I remember how to talk if I
can't remember my own name?" the young woman asked.

"Don't worry miss, I've heard of this sort of thing
before, even seen it to one extent or another.
Sometimes it happens with head injuries or in cases of
enormous stress, shock or trauma. The mind seems to
store knowing kinds of things and doing kinds of things
in two different areas. You can forget what you know,
and still know how to do what you did. Most people
eventually recover. Sometimes doing something you did
before you forgot yourself can help bring back the
knowing associated with the doing," the leech said.

"Thank you Leech Fraksen," the woman whispered.

-----

Two days later it was Saturday, and Mark Reins came
with his charcoals and parchment. Charlotte Fraksen
finished helping the new patient clean up and then
showed Reins in.

"So you're the mystery girl. How are those mage wounds
coming?" Reins asked.

"Slowly mending. I am glad you are not painting. I
don't think my skin is supposed to be yellow and blue,"
the young woman said.

"You look beat up for sure, but I won't draw your
bruises and I'll add some more hair. Artistic license
is better than makeup." Reins smiled as he began to
draw. I shouldn't be more than an hour," he said.

A distant look came to the woman's eyes as a daydream
or fragment of memory surfaced.  A robed man spoke to
her from the past, "Makeup is an art, with a bit of
rouge and shading we make this dead woman look nearly
alive."  The woman snapped back to the present, "Er,
It's okay, take your time. Now that I'm doing a little
better I enjoy company," the woman said.

"Your nostrils are moving, do you smell something?"
Mark Reins asked.

"It's just a tingle I get." She did not add that it
seemed to happen primarily when men were present.  It
did not make a lot of sense to her yet.

Reins worked steadily until he had completed a
portrait. "There you are."

The woman squinted and cocked her head, "Do I look like
that?" She asked.

"I've been told my portraits are very good," Reins
said.

"Oh, um, it's just that I have not seen myself since,
since before the spell." The woman looked decidedly
confused.

Reins held up his index finger and spoke into the other
room, "Mrs. Fraksen, do you have a mirror I could
burrow. The patient wants to see if I have done well
and cannot remember what she looks like."

Mrs. Fraksen brought a mirror and the woman stared at
herself for the longest time, tracing her fingers over
her face and looking at her very short reddish auburn
hair. Finally she looked at the portrait again.

"It is a good likeness.  Thank you, Mark. "I cannot
believe the things I cannot remember."

"Or some of the things I can," she added silently
within her mind.

"It's my pleasure, uh, well whatever your name might
be. The Vindicator enjoins us to help those in need,"
Reins said.

The woman squinted as she heard a voice from her
fragmented past, "Your sins are grave for one so
young." The voice was that of a priest wandering the
halls of her memory. He had the eyes of madness." The
woman blinked, "Uh of course," she mumbled.


-----

A week later the clattering of hooves filled the lane
outside the leech's office. The movement of armed men
could be heard outside and several came in.

A man clad in armor strode into her room.

"Bellany! It is you!" The man looked to be about to
pick her up and hug her but the leech put his arm
before the man's chest.

"Forgive me milord, the lady is bruised to the bone
nearly everywhere on her body. Were you to hug her, the
pain would be excruciating," Leech Fraksen cautioned.

Bellany put her head in her hands, "I am so sorry. I am
more than half-dead and everywhere bruised. I do not
remember anyone. I cannot even remember my own name."

You are Bellany Norwit, my daughter. You are in Norwit
and I am Lord Darl Norwit the Baronet of Norwit under
Marquis Avengene. We were sure you were dead.  Leech
Fraksen said an adventurer brought you in.  He lifted
the leech right off the floor and told him he was only
good at killing and that the leech ought to handle the
mercy for him," Norwit chuckled.

The ache in her left palm against her forehead
intensified and an eerie scene filled Ballany's mind.
She was looking at the specter of herself standing in a
barren yet somehow familiar landscape. "Daddy is a very
busy man. I spent much more time with mother but he
taught me chess one year on the eve of the vindicator's
birth."

Bellany looked up at Lord Norwit, "I am sorry I don't
remember you.  Are you sure I am your daughter?" She
asked.

The pain in Lord Norwit's eyes was evident, as if his
daughter's words had stabbed him through the heart.  I
am sure you are my daughter.  "You have grown some, and
filled out quite a bit, but I know my own daughter's
face.   Early last fall you were making the journey to
the Barony of Bristol to go to a prestigious boarding
school. Your guards and coach were overcome by orcs. I
feel so badly.  Just a day after you left I received
word that two of our forts had fallen to orcs and
giants.  Usually we would have known earlier, but this
group of orcs was uncommonly efficient.  Not a single
scout escaped the night of the attacks.  The orcs took
your carriage.  We found the remains of the guards.

Things got so bad that year I had to request aid from
Marquis Avengene several times.  We nearly lost our
keep a few weeks later.  That orc tribe nearly broke
us. Reinforcements from the south arrived just in time.
Thankfully, Avengene later struck up an important
alliance with Lord Heinrich Li'Yieraun and his mage,
Nordula.  With the aid of a mage for transportation and
the power of the highest priests of the Vindicator, we
put many of the giants into their graves. We had never
seen so many giants working for the orcs before."

Bellany nodded, "I wish I could remember you.  I wish I
could remember anything. Bellany hesitated in
confusion, did you teach me chess?"

Norwit brightened, "Yes, I did. I never spent as much
time with you as I should have, but one winter on the
eve of the vindicator's birthday when you were eight
years old I did teach you chess. I am sorry your memory
is damaged. Maybe it is better this way. You were taken
by orcs. The Vindicator knows how they must have
brutalized you. This way you have a fresh start."

Bellany nodded gravely, "You mean I am probably not a
virgin."

"No, but you are alive and that is what counts, "You
cannot imagine how much your mother and I worried"
------------

[Rapina]052 A Night As Dark As Sable

The journey to her parents' home seemed a long one. She
was carried to and deposited on the seat of the Norwit
coach. Once underway she had felt every bump the wheels
of the carriage had touched, and every one of them hurt
her bruised body. The nebulous shooting pains and the
blood she had seen in her urine in the days before the
trip told her that some of her internal organs were
damaged. She was very worried and wondered if she would
ever fully recover. Nevertheless she tried to keep a
tired eye on the countryside, and to listen to her
mother, Eleanor Norwit trying to cheer her up.

Since she remembered nothing about herself she found
her mother's chatter educational. Her family consisted
of her parents and two brothers, Charles and Darren.
She was supposedly sixteen, although somehow she had
thought she was older. Charles, her senior by one year,
was at a finishing school in Bristol. Darren, her
fourteen-year-old brother had a tutor and was helping
her father and their steward run the estate. He was
already being groomed for a career in management.

Bellany found out that before her accident she had been
active in the church of the vindicator, helping her
mother with Sunday school and charity events. She was
adept at needlepoint and backgammon. She read and wrote
poetry, sang in the church choir and played the lyre
and the lute. The only trouble was, she did not
remember one wit of what her mother told her, yet both
of her parents were absolutely certain that they
recognized her as their daughter who had been abducted
by orcs last year in the late summer.

Lawns, hayfields and farms surrounded keep Norwit but
there was a small walled town about a mile south named
Emmitsville. Both the keep and the town had suffered
extensive damage from the attacks of giants and orcs.
Only reinforcements from the East had saved them from
utter destruction. Keep Norwit had been largely
repaired. It consisted of a tower keep on a small hill
that was attached to a walled courtyard. Built into the
front wall of the courtyard were a gatehouse and a
sturdy, fortified manor house. A carriage house and
various other outbuildings were built against the other
walls of the courtyard.

When at last she was carried to her bedroom within the
manor house and put into her bed, Bellany slept like
the dead waking up only on occasion because of internal
pain and then drifting back to sleep. It was sometime
the next day when she truly awakened. The heavy drapes
had been drawn across her windows so that she could
sleep but she could see there was light behind them.
She looked around her room. She saw a fireplace
containing a bed of glowing embers with a thick log
atop them, a bookshelf, a desk, a bureau and a dressing
table with a mirror. On the walls she saw a painting of
an elaborate church of the vindicator and one of an old
man and woman she did not know. There were three doors
out of the room. The room did not look familiar. She
wanted to walk around but after sitting up she decided
she was just not up to it. There was a bell on the
night table next to her bed. She picked it up and rang
it. A woman perhaps ten years her senior entered the
room.

"Yes milady Bellany?" the maid said.

Bellany blinked, "I am sorry, I really should remember
you, but I cannot remember much since the spell, only
bits and pieces that don't fit."

"It's all right Miss Bellany, My name's Grace and I'm
the chamber maid. Lady Eleanor said you were in bad
shape, includin' your memory.

Bellany nodded, "I really don't even know if I am
Bellany Norwit. I don't recognize anyone. I don't even
recognize myself when I look in the mirror. Lord and
Lady Norwit say I look just like Bellany, only I've
filled out some."

Aye, you are Bellany aright. I would know your face
anywhere, even as black and blue as it is, and even if
I didn't, I'd recognize the sound of your voice. I was
your maid since I was a girl. You were just a baby
then," Grace said.

"Thank you, it's comforting to know people remember me,
even if I don't remember them, or even myself," Bellany
said.

"Lord Norwit said ye ran afowl of an orc sorcerer,"
Grace said.

Bellany blinked as she remembered a mottled green
creature without legs or arms affixed to a stand. It
was troll, not an orc. "Er, yes, I think that's what
happened, but I can't remember more than shreds that
don't fit together."

"Perhaps in time ye'll put the pieces together, Missy,"
Grace said.

Bellany nodded, "I hope so. I wonder if you could tell
me what time of day it is and when the next meal is
coming?" Bellany asked.

Grace smiled, "Well I guess ye're ready to face the day
then. That door there is your closet, the next one is
your privy and the one I came through goes into the
manor. It's an hour or two before supper, but the cook
has orders to send you something mild to eat whenever
ye've a mind for it."

Bellany nodded. "Yes, I would like something like a
thin oatmeal gruel. I can't chew for long; it hurts too
much. I mostly have to drink my meals." Bellany
wrinkled her nose. Somehow I need to make it to the
privy too, but it's difficult even for me to sit up..."

After a meal and a brief visit from her parents,
Bellany went back to sleep. She woke up in the middle
of the night in a sweat after dreaming of bedding a
hoard of pirates. It was amazing how lifelike they all
were too. Each had his own personality, and their
leader, Red Jack, had quite a sense of humor. Bellany
rolled her eyes, "My dreams are too crazy, she
whispered to herself. The fire gave off only a faint
glow. Did she see shadows? Her left hand went to the
chain on her neck that was not there. The palm tickled
strangely in the brief moment it was facing the room.
"Did I once have a light?" she questioned herself. She
blinked as her errant memory showed her a dark scene.
She was climbing a ladder. She approached an
illuminated crystal that hung from a metal grating
above her. Bellany cocked her head, "Magic?" she
whispered.

She found she could sit up as long as she could
tolerate the pain of her bruises as she struggled to an
upright position. Now that she had, had about a week
and a half to recover, she was sure her head and chest
were the least damaged parts of her body. Her right
shoulder seemed fairly strong, but her left arm was
still very hurt, especially the palm of her left hand.
It felt dead yet ached at the same time. She guessed it
was that ache that had awakened her. Her legs were too
weak to hold her, yet she could not help but think they
were not going to get stronger unless she used them.
She wanted to light some candles and walk around, but
she could not walk, it was too dark and she was too
weak. She promised herself she would try to explore the
room sometime tomorrow during daylight.

The next day Bellany awakened sometime around noon. She
felt a little stronger and even better yet after
breakfast. Nevertheless, she knew her strength would
not last for many hours and the shooting pains she
sometimes suffered frightened her. After seeing her
mother, she pretended to be having trouble staying
awake. Her mother left her so that she could take a
nap.

Bellany really did doze for a few minutes, but then she
woke up and turned her covers down, primarily with her
right hand. She used the same hand to help swing her
legs off the bed. The floor looked a long ways off even
though it was less that a foot below her feet. Since
the chair her mother always sat in was close to the
bed, Bellany decided to make that her target. She
turned over on her belly and slid off the bed until her
feet touched the ground. Then she put as much weight on
her legs as she could and fell backwards into the
chair. She nearly missed and spilled herself on the
floor but thanks to her right arm she managed to get
the chair under her.

She put her right hand between her legs and grasped the
chair, then scooted along over the rugs to the desk.
She searched it finding ink, quills and parchment.
There was one drawer that contained some scrap paper
with bits of poems and various other writings on it
that had not turned out. Bellany looked at the writing.
Something did not seem right. She took a quill and
began to copy a poem fragment right next to the
fragment itself. Her heart sank when she saw the
writing was not the same. She began to cry but
instinctively held down her volume. She felt so
vulnerable. "Surely I could not remember how to write
but forget how to write like I used to," Bellany
thought to herself. I cannot be Bellany Norwit, but if
I am not then who am I?

"Think, think think," Bellany muttered to herself. "I
have to think and act like, like, like what? I have to
think like someone who is objective, cold, and
rational. Bellany's mind swam as she remembered talking
to a naked warrior in a great iron cauldron bath, "He
doesn't know if I am a queen or a pawn and that
interferes with his chess game... I assure you I am the
white queen. I have to think like a chess master, the
chess master, but who is that and what is a white
queen?"

"Never mind that, I need to think about now. I am
sorely wounded. I need medical care and I need to put
the pieces of my memory together. If I am not Bellany
Norwit, I need to know who I really am and why I seem
to be her. I need time, time to recover. First I need
to know this is Bellany's writing and not the writing
of one of her parents who gave her the parchment. The
young woman searched through the drawer of scrap paper
and did find some writing in different hands but none
of it was hers. Finally she found an old note to
"mother" signed Bellany in the same script as had been
used to write the poem.

"Until I know who I am, I am Bellany Norwit. I am going
to stay here with servants, parents, food, medical
attention and a warm bed," Bellany assured herself. She
began copying poem fragments, matching her writing to
the writing on the page until she could write Bellany
script without looking at an example. Her fingertips
hurt even though she held the quill lightly, but she
did not care. Her survival was at stake.

When she was done she carefully scooted her chair to
the fire, and burned her practice sheets. She made sure
every sheet of parchment was turned completely to ash
and then she retraced her path to her bed, smoothing
the rug with her feet as she scooted the chair along
under her. She then managed to push herself up with her
right hand and legs and flop onto the bed on her belly.
Rolling the rest of the way onto the bed was an
excruciating chore but she did it, and she got herself
into bed. When she was done she was exhausted. She knew
she would pay for her excursion, but she felt more
secure knowing that even if she were somehow not
Bellany, at least she could write like Bellany.

Being badly bruised and too weak to walk, Bellany was
confined to her bedroom. She hated the confinement even
more than being in pain. Thankfully she had guests, her
pensive mother came to see her often, and her more
bearable father usually appeared once or twice a day
when he was home. Her brother Darren came to see her
when she first got home and occasionally he came to
visit along with Lord Norwit in the mornings. She could
also sometimes get her maid Grace to talk to her, and
more importantly, Grace would get her books from her
shelf and help her with mundane things she could not
yet do by herself.

Bellany had started on the top shelf and was very
rapidly working her way down. She pretended to be
browsing and skimming, but in truth she was reading and
studying as best she could, given her condition. In
spite of what would have seemed to others to be good
progress, she felt so slow as if some essential
vitality were missing from her mind.

On a Monday morning a few days after Bellany's arrival
at Nowit Manor, Eleanor Norwit, Bellany's mother, was
there in her daughter's room when there came a knocking
at the door.

"Come in. Why Reverend Wright, it is so good to see
you, and so considerate of you to come and see my poor
Bellany," Eleanor Norwit said.

Bellany sat up and looked at the Reverend. He was a
somewhat homely narrow-shouldered man whose arrow-
straight brown hair threatened to obscure his fanatical
brown eyes. She felt a tingle that somehow was not
quite right. Even though there was something off about
the tingle the Reverend gave her, it seemed like
something that she sorely missed, something that she
had half forgotten but that nevertheless filled her
mind with whispers that she could not quite hear.

"Baby remember your modesty," Eleanor pushed Bellany's
covers up, as though each of her fingers were a swarm
of angry bees. "I am sorry Reverend Wright, Bellany's
memory shattered from the stresses of her ordeal and
the magic of an orc shaman. She does not seem to
remember that others still can see.

"Don't worry Lady Norwit, the nightgown you have her in
is as modest as most summer dresses. You needn't
concern yourself about impropriety. Its Bellany's soul
we all have to worry about, her body will mend as best
it can, Vindicator willing. I only wish I were senior
enough in my role as a priest that I could offer some
healing, but alas, I have not yet been so blessed,"
Reverend Wright said.

Bellany somehow connected her mother's busy bee fingers
with the Reverend's grasping after her soul. She could
tell by the tone of Lady Eleanor's voice that her
mother fawned over the young man's every word. Bellany
decided she would have to pretend to like the Reverend,
just as he was pretending to care about her. Bellany
was not sure what it was he did care about, but she
would find out.

"Since you missed Sunday's sermon, I told Lady Norwit I
would come deliver it to you personally," Reverend
Wright said.

"That is so kind of you Reverend, thank you." She could
not say why, but there was something about the Reverend
that bothered her. Her mother was a busy woman and she
was called away in the middle of the sermon. She
promised to return later. Bellany studied the man who
spoke with such fanatical conviction, and decided he
was here to make sure the vindicator still had her
soul. Somehow she felt that if the vindicator had ever
had it, he had lost it of late.

She sat up a little and was rewarded by a tingle, and
by some happenstance of habit she did something within
her mind and body to pull on that tingle. She was
rewarded by another tingle. The tingle definitely
seemed to come from Reverend Wright. She had felt the
same thing when she had told the artist Mark Reins that
she enjoyed company. There was no doubt that these
tingles tied in with the aching need she felt in her
loins.

Bellany smiled to herself and sat up more. She gazed
raptly at the sermonizing Reverend pacing back and
forth across the floor of her room and she pretended to
be as stuck on the man as her mother while she played
the tingle game with him to keep herself occupied. By
the end of the sermon she could get Wright to send her
a nose-tickling tingle at will. It gave her an odd
sense of power even though she felt so beaten and
powerless otherwise. When the sermon was done, the
Reverend came to sit in the chair by her bed, the one
usually occupied by her mother. He looked a little
flushed.

"Have you any questions on the sermon, young Lady
Norwit?" Reverend Wright asked.

Bellany wanted to tell the man what a phony he was. He
pretended to care about her, but what he really cared
about was harvesting her soul for the Vindicator. She
found him intolerable, but she wanted him to rip her
clothes off nevertheless. There was an aching hunger in
her loins worse even than the throbbing dead pain in
her left palm. She needed something he could give her
so badly that it hurt. Bellany decided she would go
along with his game and make him believe he was
succeeding famously at stealing her soul for the
Vindicator. Besides, if she resisted, she was sure he
would probably just work all the harder and send her
mother after her as well. Everyone seemed to pity her
anyway; she decided to work from there.

"How can the Vindicator save my soul, Reverend Wright?
I am bruised to the bone from the spell of an orc
shaman. I think the orcs must have taken my virginity
from me, but I have no way of knowing for sure that
they did. No man will ever have me after what they
probably did to me, and I will become an old, dried-up
spinster," Bellany sniffled.

Reverend Wright wiped the tear from Bellany's face.
Touching her made him ache with desire but he held
firm. "Don't worry lady, your afflictions are severe
but even while you were in the vile clutches of the
orcs, the Vindicator made your body blossom like a
rose. You were a girl when I saw you last; now you are
a beautiful woman. If you could only see yourself now,
you would know that even after all that has befallen
you, the Vindicator will bring you a fine, forgiving
husband. You must have faith," Reverend Wright said.

"Do you really think so, Reverend Wright?" Bellany
asked.

"The reverend's eyes traced over the magnificent curve
of her breasts. Your lines are exquisite, milady, your
body is a work of art. Even after your ordeal, men will
take notice of you. I promise," Reverend Wright said.

Bellany's nipples rose to dent the fabric of her
nightgown.

Wright inhaled deeply.

"I pray you are right Reverend, but I cannot go on
wondering what the orcs did to me. I need someone to
tell me if I am still a virgin, and if not whether I
can ever be with a man after what they have done to me.

"I cannot do such a thing for you, Bellany. The
vindicator demands celibacy of his priests. It is a
great sacrifice. The church has been cracking down on
errant priests of late, and besides, everyone knows if
any man anywhere in Norwit dared to touch you, your
father would have him hanged," Reverend Wright said.

"Please Reverend, I cannot trust anyone else to do it.
My father will never know, I promise," Bellany said.

The reverend hesitated for a long moment. I am sorry
lady, you must look for yourself when you are well
enough, and you may feel inside if you are in doubt of
your capacity for a man. If there is no membrane
barring the way into the depths of you then surely the
orcs have broken your purity, but true purity is of the
soul. Give yourself to the vindicator and he will
restore the purity of your soul," Reverend Wright said.

Bellany could see the reverend was too far-gone into
the vindicator's fold to bring him between her folds.
In a way she would have preferred if he were lecherous.
At least she would still have been able to count him as
a man. This reverend was not even a man. His soul had
been stolen and he reveled in it. Bellany wondered at
the finesse of the vindicator. How he must be envied by
every silver-tongued demon that wished to possess the
minds and souls of others. Who else could convince so
many so easily that in giving up their souls they were
found, but were they to leave their souls where nature
had intended they would be lost?

Bellany blinked as her fragmented memory parted with
another gem.

"I will give you potent magic, and more than mere
dreams of lust. Simply open your mind to me, let me
come into you and fill you with my power."  It was the
spirit of lust contained in a stone that had once tried
to steal her soul for its own use talking. Had she
succumbed? She wished she had other memories to add to
it, but it was only a piece in a large, complex puzzle.

Bellany suddenly realized she needed to react to the
real world and not her memories, "Oh yes, yes I will
give myself to the vindicator, Reverend. I must be
filled with his purity." Bellany crossed her fingers
behind her back and pretended to be swept up in the
moment.

"Let us pray..." Reverend Wright said.

Bellany prayed like a fanatic, and when her mother came
in sometime later, Bellany was still praying with the
reverend. She pretended to have been enraptured by the
reverend's words. She was not sure which she felt more
strongly compelled to do, to roll off the bed laugh-
screaming or to throw up. Somehow she managed to uphold
her ruse until both of them had left, and then she hid
under the covers and shook herself with a mixture of
revulsion and silent laughter. She did not know why she
had such a strong negative reaction to the vindicator,
but there certainly was no denying it.

----

Bellany had many dreams as she slept through the next
few nights and napped through parts of the days. At
night she was still uneasy. It seemed as if she could
sometimes sense the presence of others in her room. To
make matters worse, so many of her dreams and
flashbacks would have curled her mother's hair. She
wondered if she could have actually done even half the
things she had dreamed of or "remembered." Her memories
troubled her but not nearly so much as her injuries.
The fragmentary memories and the dreams she had were
all wrong for the innocent daughter of Eleanor Norwit.
Somehow they were tied to the lust spirit of the stone.
Her past was an illusive sorcery. Yet if she was not
Bellany Norwit as she suspected, then who was she?
Perhaps she was a doppelganger with amnesia? Surely she
must be loosing her mind. For the moment she decided to
remain the orc-abused daughter of a baronet.

----

Several mornings after her "consultation" with the
reverend her father came to visit. Oddly, she felt much
more comfortable with him than with her mother. Her
mother had expectations that she would return to being
the Bellany she always had been, and that she would
take the same pleasure at loosing her soul that her
mother did. Her father, on the other hand, was a man
who had somehow retained his soul in spite of the
presence of the vindicator in his household. He was a
practical military man and the former Bellany had spent
much less time with him than with her mother.

"Daddy, I don't understand one whit of it. Leech
Fraksen said memories of doing would be more durable
than memories of knowing. He said if I did the things I
used to do I would pick them up rapidly if not
instantly, and that they would help me remember things
associated with them. Mother has told me what I used to
enjoy. She was helping me to sing my formerly favorite
hymns to the vindicator last night. I have been doing
my best to humor her and the reverend, but just between
you and I, religion just does not seem as practical as
it once did. I guess mother thought I would be just
fine after the reverend raised my spirits, but I'm not
just fine. At least not the way she wants me to be just
fine."

Darl smiled, "Bellany, your mother and I understand you
have been through a lot even if you don't remember it.
Spending most of a year as the slave of the orcs cannot
help but have changed you. We can tell that. The way
that you talk and the way that you act, everything has
changed. The little girl you were is gone and we
realize we can never get her back. Your mother and I
just want you to get better, and she thinks religion is
going to heal you. I am not sure what to think. I just
wish I had done a better job keeping the orcs off the
roads."

"I don't blame you, daddy. As a child your competent
actions somehow managed to convince me that we were not
living in a frontier battle zone. That means you must
have been very effective at keeping the orcs at bay.
Sooner or later they were bound to come up with
something to throw you off your stride. At least you
are hard at work keeping Norwit safe. Daddy, from the
bits I remember I know I am a hundred times removed
from being a virgin. Furthermore after nearly a year
with the orcs I realize I cannot possibly be anything
but barren if I did not bear a half-orc baby and I see
no sign of a past pregnancy. I cannot be a pious
vindicator wife. I may pretend to humor mother, but I
can never be what she wants me to be. I need to learn
to do something practical."

"Mother had been training me to be a dutiful wife and
pious indoctrinator of the young, but it is likely that
I will never bear children. What I used to do had
little practical value. Do you have any books other
than those religious tracts and books of poems?"
Bellany wrinkled her nose. I am so tired of the old me.
It seems such a sham in the face of what has become of
me."

Baronet Norwit shook his head sadly, "Bellany you used
to live for those things and now..."

Bellany sighed, "Those things seem so worthless to me
now, daddy. I guess there is nothing like being a slave
of the enemy to make you realize you are at war. I will
do what I can to spare mother's feelings, but I have no
interest in most of the things I used to do. I would
like to try to re-learn music, but I just can't get
interested in poems and those prayers and hymns to the
vindicator. I went through the books on my shelf and
found nothing meatier than a book on needlepoint
techniques. Do you have any practical books like men
read?"

"You mean books on how to kill orcs by the hundreds?"
Baronet Norwit asked.

"Maybe just by the tens or twenties," Bellany smiled.
"I don't want to get too ambitious."

Darl chuckled and shook his head, "I have plenty of
books on warfare, but you used to avoid them like the
plague. Not to mention your mother would not approve."

"I was a frivolous child who had no idea where she was
living or what might happen if a few giants got past
the forts in the north and brought their orcish side-
kicks with them. If you pick out some books for me, I
would like to look through them and read any that seem
interesting. You can tell mother it is just some
histories where our side wins instead of what happened
in my case. Tell her that I am weak, bored and have a
vendetta against the orcs," Bellany said.

"I would be happy to pick a few out for you, although I
am sure I will hear about it from your mother," Lord
Norwit said.

"Mother is just going to have to accept the fact that
her meek and faithful little girl was ruined by orcs.
Since the legion of orcs never got me pregnant, she
will have to forgive me if I think it is unlikely that
I will ever be able to fill the role of childbearing
wife and mother that she has chosen for me. I will have
to find something else to do," Bellany said.

Lord Norwit grimaced and nodded, "Most women enslaved
by the orcs bear child after child of mixed blood from
the repeated rapes."

"Bellany nodded. I will never be able to please mother
the way I used to. I have already accepted that,"
Bellany said.

Lord Norwit sighed, "I am sure this will disturb your
mother to no end, but I understand. I must get on with
my day. I will have someone bring you some practical
books," Lord Norwit said.

Thank you daddy, Bellany gave Lord Norwit's hand a
squeeze.

During the following week Bellany slept a great deal
while her body was mending, yet as she reached a
certain point of wellness her aches, including the one
in her loins awakened her at odd times and kept her
sleep shallow. To make matters worse, when she did
awaken at night any stir or shadow startled her as
though ghosts beset her. Thankfully she was given
crutches and began practicing with them to supplement
the weakness of her legs. During her waking hours she
read as much as she could. Her father began making it a
point to visit her early every morning, and during that
time she would talk to him about what she had read.

"Good morning Bellany," Darl Norwit looked dubiously at
the stack of volumes on Bellany's night table and the
even larger stack on the floor just in front of it. I
see Steward Brosk is taking his job a little too
seriously," Norwit said.

"He is now. He brought me three books on the first day.
That was hardly enough. I had to complain bitterly."
Bellany smiled.

"It was?" The baronet looked a bit confused.

"Yes, he underestimated what I can do when I have a
mind to. Especially when I spend so much of my time
trapped in bed. Besides, I can't say I like all the
books. Some I just browse through," Bellany stretched
the truth for her father's benefit. She had found she
could read even complex material quite rapidly as long
as the shooting pains she sometimes got did not
distract her. Evidently her training in reading poems
and prayers had not been a total waste even if she
could not remember any of them save the ones she had
read after her ordeal.

"At first he brought me military histories. I read
about a lot of battles, tactics and eeevil politics,"
Bellany rolled her eyes and grinned. Then I read this
one Randal's Art of the Sword. It's a training manual.
Unfortunately I am sure mom would as soon send me back
to the orc tribe that snatched me as let me receive
training at arms. Bellany grinned. Some of the
exercises in it were interesting though. Today I am
going to try the few I might be able to do in my
condition. I am thinking I really will have to do
something to get my strength back after being in bed
for so long."

"You're contemplating exercises?" Darl Norwit raised an
eyebrow.

Bellany nodded, "I'm sure mother would not approve, but
why shouldn't I exercise? I have muscles don't I, and
they have been weakened by my injuries. Maybe if I
could have run faster I would have gotten away from the
orcs. That reminds me, do we have horses daddy? It
seems like we ought to."

"Yes we do for the cavalrymen and couriers," Norwit
said.

"Did I used to ride them?" Bellany asked.

"You and your mother would occasionally ride to church
in your finery," Norwit said.

"I was thinking maybe if I could have ridden a real
horse real fast, I might have gotten away from the
orcs," Bellany said.

"You seem a little obsessed with orcs, daughter. I wish
there were something that I could have done to have
spared you the ordeal..." Norwit said.

"I am not blaming you, daddy. I wish there were
something I could have done to spare me that ordeal
too. I think there were several things I could have
done, and I aim to do them even if it means sneaking
around behind mother's back. Daddy, what is the fastest
horse you own?"

"Starstruck, my black Andalusian stallion. He's not as
large as many of the cavalry horses, but he is faster
than any of them.  Most of my cavalry horses are gelded
because that makes them more manageable in battle, but
Star is far to valuable to be gelded. His
characteristics improve my local stock immeasurably.
Bellany...I really wish I could have prevented the orcs
from... Lord Norwit cleared his throat and started
over. You must not think of riding right now. You need
to put everything into recovering."

Bellany nodded, reached out and squeezed her father's
hand. "You work very hard to keep Norwit safe, daddy,
to the point of sometimes having to neglect your own
family. I approve. I am still very confused about what
happened to me. My memory is just bits and pieces at
best. I have to take the word of others on who I am. I
don't even know I am really your daughter. The few bits
I do remember would turn mother into a crying wreck so
I am keeping them to myself.

"Bellany I admire your strength but... this is not like
you," Norwit said.

"In my recent past the alternative to strength was
death. Perhaps death is what really happened to Bellany
at the hands of the orcs, daddy, and I am just some
lost spirit possessing her body. In which case you
should not tell me any grave secrets," Bellany
cautioned. "I have to learn strength in spite of mother
and the reverend. I know it is not going to be easy."

Darl Norwit looked genuinely troubled at his daughter's
words, yet there was a part of him that was proud of
her, even if she was going against propriety to the nth
degree.

-----

Thane came into the abode's dining nook looking a bit
preoccupied. He nodded a greeting to Rames, sat down
and played with his oatmeal.

"I am sorry Guardian Thane, I am just not as creative
with food as Rapina was."

"It's no matter Guardian Rames. I do not expect you to
fill Rapina's shoes, anymore than I would expect you to
dress in Argosian lingerie and tug on the strings of my
lust while I was attempting to eat breakfast," Thane
chuckled. I am preoccupied because I have been looking
in on the Norwit girl periodically as I had promised.
Perhaps more often than I had intended. You see, in
spite of my not sleeping with Rapina, I find that I am
feeling nearly as heartbroken as you seem to be. In a
way I feel as though I cheated myself in not availing
myself of what she so freely offered, but at the time I
captured her I felt she needed a father figure more
than yet another lover. Perhaps in providing her with a
father figure, I inadvertently adopted her as my
daughter and now I am feeling like a parent who has a
missing child. It is hard to say. Even though I have so
many more servitors than I once did. I feel...

"Bereft?" Rames nodded, "I understand, but any more
talk like that is going to break my heart. Is there any
good news, anything?"

"I did the ritual of communion with Mortaebius and was
assured that Rapina is not among the dead, yet I cannot
help but get the impression that our patron is being
evasive about her whereabouts. I even tried locating
her solely through non-clerical magical means using my
mirror. One time I was sure I was on a roll, but when
the image resolved it was Bellany Norwit. For lack of
anything better to do I decided to look in on Ms Norwit
more often."

"As you know, Ms Norwit did not remember whom she was
when she awakened, thus complicating what should have
been a simple test. Evidently the trauma had made a
mess of her memory. Nevertheless, I have neither the
time nor the magical resources to watch her for lengthy
periods. The best I can do is a spot check now and
again.

This morning I happened to look in on her and she was
attempting to do exercises in spite of her rather grave
condition. She is still very weak and after briefly
attempting a few exercises, she had to give up. She is
not bouncing back like Rapina would. I did see that she
was reading a book on swordsmanship she had gleaned
from her father's library, and the other books that had
visible titles were military in nature, not the sort of
thing I would expect a noblewoman to be reading. The
problem is that if she were Rapina, her survival would
depend on her seeming to be Bellany Norwit. If her
memory were muddled she might lack the information to
realize she ought to make an effort to give me a clue
as to her identity."

"Has she been chasing men? If that is Rapina and she is
wounded, you know she'd need it in the worst way,"
Rames said.

Thane smiled, "I suppose you are right, unfortunately
until recently she has been unable to stray far from
her bed. She now uses crutches to walk since her legs
and her left arm are weak. Even had she wanted to chase
men, there would have been no opportunity. Now that she
can get around on crutches I shall try to look in on
her at various times of day to see if she does have any
interactions with males. The keep is garrisoned, but I
imagine Lord Norwit would string up any man who was a
big enough fool to bed his daughter."

Rames shook his head, "That would be a desperate
situation for Rapina."

Thane nodded, "You realize this is a long shot. I
should not even be doing it, yet since I have promised
myself I would practice skrying every chance I got,
there is no reason why I cannot make Ms Norwit one of
the people I apply my practice sessions to."

Rames nodded, "Until we get a better lead, it's at
least something."

"Agreed, and even if I am merely spinning my wheels, it
feels good to be doing something."

-----------

It felt good to be able to move around even if it was
on crutches and even if it sometimes caused her to hurt
inside. She could not yet negotiate stairs but had
promised herself she would learn. Bellany started
trying to sleep after dinner each night, but got up at
the crack of dawn every morning because that was the
time her father could always visit her when he was
home, and she actually enjoyed seeing him. She did not
have to put on near as much of an act for him as she
did for her mother.

She was rapidly devouring the books he and Steward
Brosk brought her and she enjoyed talking some of them
over with her father whose military knowledge was
appreciable, and who had the kind of experience that
went beyond mere book knowledge. Even though she was
determined to get her strength back, she still spent a
lot of time in bed and most of that time she spent
reading.

Currently she was in one of the back bedrooms of the
manor looking out the window into the courtyard. Down
below she could see her father and lieutenant Florin
reviewing the garrison troops. Soon they would start
weapons practice.

Three days ago she had discovered weapons practice when
lieutenant Florin and sergeant Lime had demonstrated
some swordsmanship with live steel. Bellany had heard
and had watched from a window at the end of the
corridor that led past her bedroom. Since then she had
not missed a day. She sat and ate part of her breakfast
as she raptly watched two score of men practice at
arms. Her finger had a habit of straying under her
nightgown as she watched. She did not know why, but her
female parts seemed to be better off than much of the
rest of her as if some natural flow pattern of energy
had diverted a certain amount of the power that had
restored the patch just under her breasts down to her
loins.

One of the younger men's practice swords clattered off
his opponent's low parry and then thwacked his
opponent's instep. Bellany's mouth opened as she
daydreamed a scene...

"First off we're gonna do is run ye 'round Red Jack's
Isle ta see how tough ye are... I don't cater ta wimps
here, and' this trainin' is oriented ta survival o' the
fittest. She could see them running too, a whole bunch
of boys. She got the impression they were pirates. She
remembered bedding the same pirates from her dream. She
shook her head. She came up with the wildest stories in
her head. Obviously she had dreamed that one up before
her accident for the same reason her finger was nudging
her nub. "Honestly, I really must have needed a man
when I dreamed those stories up. I suppose it was
because daddy would hang anyone who touched me. Pirate
ships, sweating recruits... Bellany saw the image of a
naked Norsemen, blonde and bigger than life. She
grinned, "and pike-bearing Norsemen. Being a noblewoman
is like being in a golden cage in a way. I wonder if I
was always this crazy for men?"

------

The next day began with her mother's voice.

Bellany! Wake up dear we have to get you ready for
church!

Bellany groaned quietly. She had to wake up and put on
her vindicator act for the benefit of her mother. She
managed it and in not too long a time her mother and
Grace had her cleaned up. They had made some
alterations to one of her Sunday dresses and she now
fit into it nicely. She smiled at sergeant Lime and the
tingles he provoked as he and her father bore her down
stairs on a litter. She ate breakfast with her family
in the great hall and then was rushed off to a
carriage.

The church was in Emittsville. It was fairly large and
looked to have been built within the last ten years.
There were lots of people there and everyone was eager
to greet her father the baron who evidently did not
make it to church very often. After greeting her
parents they invariably welcomed Bellany home. From
many of the men she felt the same nose and spine
tickling feeling as she had from the reverend and
sergeant Lime. She suddenly realized she was feeling
their lust and it made her ache for a lover all the
more. After addressing the baron, Reverend Wright
greeted her with open arms, and told her how glad he
was to see her back in church and then he rushed off to
the pulpit to start the service.

"Before I start the service I would like you all to
welcome Lady Bellany Norwit back into the fold," Wright
announced.  "We are sure she had many harrowing
experiences after being taken slave by the orcs. As she
courageously helped the adventurers who rescued her in
their battle against the most powerful of the orcs, she
was hit by the foul sorcery of an orc shaman and nearly
killed. Yet the vindicator sometimes tips his hand to
the faithful.

Her rescuers won the day and took her to the office of
Leech Fraksen in the north. In spite of horrible damage
that goes right through her mortal body miraculously,
her eyes were unharmed and she pulled through. It has
taken her some time but she is walking again with the
aid of crutches. Her memory was severely traumatized so
don't take offense if she does not remember you. She
did not remember her own name when she was found and
has taken the word of friends and family as to whom she
is. Please welcome Lady Bellany Norwit.

The parishioners applauded and several of them called
out greetings and welcomes.

Bellany waved and smiled to everyone, and then settled
in to listen to the reverend as he sermonized. She
tried not to let her mouth twitch too much during the
sermon. There was something that deeply bothered her
about the vindicator, but she could not say why she
felt that way. After the service she stood near the
back of the church and most of the congregation greeted
her and gave their condolences that she had, had to
endure so much.

"I am so glad you could be with us this morning, Baron
Norwit as we welcomed Bellany back into the fold",
Reverend Wright said.  "How is your memory coming,
Bellany, does the church look familiar? You and your
mother have spent many fine hours here."

"Thank you reverend," Bellany said.  "So far I really
don't remember anything other than a few horrors at the
hands of the orcs. It seems like I should remember the
church, but nothing I have seen yet has rung a bell. I
have no idea where anything is."

"We will just have to remedy that Lady Bellany. I enjoy
showing off this house of the vindicator. Let me offer
you my arm and I'll give you the royal tour," Reverend
Wright said.

"Thank you reverend," Bellany curtsied and grimaced as
her legs protested.

"It looks like you could use the arms of two men,"
Reverend Wright said.

"Allow me," Lord Norwit said.

"Thank you daddy," Bellany said.

The baronet and the reverend took Bellany through the
church but nothing looked familiar at first. There was
a hall on one side of the sanctuary where the arts and
crafts of various children and parishioners were
displayed. One of the displays was different and read,
"Enemies of the Church and the Marquisate. Bellany
stopped suddenly as she saw one of the faces.

"Ho there," reverend Wright said as Bellany brought him
to an abrupt stop. Do you recognize this display?"

Bellany blinked and tried to seem a lot less disturbed
than she was, "I don't think so, but I wanted to look
at the faces since I've just come back from being among
the orcs and outlaws. Do you know anything about these
people?"

"Some of them I have heard stories about," the reverend
said.

Bellany pointed, "Who is this Captain Red Jack?"

"He's the foulest reaver on the Augustana River. For
years he and his pirates terrorized river settlements.
A couple of years ago he and his men were nearly
destroyed out east on Grand Lake by a man as foul as
them, a sorcerer-priest of Mortaebius..." Reverend
Wright said.

Bellany's vision swam as her memory conjured a torch-
lit scene. "Blood an' bones!" hollered the now-familiar
muscle-bound Norseman from Bellany's dreams. This time
he was fighting walking skeletons and ordering pirates
to stand firm. "Hold yer ground an' drive these bags a
bones back t' the hells they came from!"

The reverend was continuing his story, "...Red Jack was
captured and sent to Turnmoor to be executed, but some
of his allies and a few crewmen who had fled the battle
with the sorcerer helped the captain escape at the last
minute. Lord Heinrich Li Yeiraun hunted Red Jack down
and would have defeated him but for the intervention of
a powerful necromancer that had allied himself with the
filthy pirate."

"Is the vindicator at war with this death god
Mortaebius? The one whose priest captured Red Jack?"
Bellany asked.

"Well in a matter of speaking yes. The forces of the
vindicator drove the evil minions of Mortaebius out of
the Marquisate and burned his temples. We will fight
those ghouls any way we can!" the reverend exclaimed.

The reverend cleared his throat, "Anyway the
necromancer also raided the magic from Lord
Li'Yieraun's keep and angered Nordula, Lord
Li'Yieraun's mage."

In her mind, an old grizzled sergeant opened the heavy
door into a large keep before her.

"Oi, who's the' girl?" asked the sergeant.

"Got her down at Agnes.'  Damn pretty, isn't she?" the
officer whose arm she held replied.

Reverend Wright continued,"...Knowing the vindicator
despised necromancers and the death god they worship,
Lord Li'Yieraun and Lord Avengene realized they had
something in common and struck up a fine alliance. Li
'Yeiraun's mage and our priests were responsible for
vanquishing the threat of the giants. Our ally Lord Li
'Yeiraun has also sent us stonemasons from the south to
help with our massive rebuilding effort. Why I believe
your father has one employed at keep Norwit. I am sure
that one day we will catch up with Red Jack again.
These other posters are of some of Jack's wicked
crewmen, Arzeal, Drake, Brackston, Pike, and Skitch are
officers, and some of these others are just notable
pillagers."

Bellany put her hand over her mouth as she stared at
the poster depicting Pike. She had seen that very same
Norseman in her daydreams. Somehow it was all real; her
dreams were memories.

"Goodness that one looks like he could tear a woman
limb from limb," Bellany said to disguise her reaction.

"I have no doubt he could; yet these pirates are as
cowardly as they are dangerous. When the heat of the
law became too great for Captain Red Jack down along
the Augustana River southwest of Avengene, he fled east
along the river and then he sailed north through the
elven forest and began terrorizing the eastern
provinces of Avengene. He was most active last year
when the forces of the vindicator had their hands full
with the giants and orcs, but even now he is a
notorious raider. We don't know when he will strike
next," the reverend said gravely.

Bellany nodded and began to walk forward, and then near
the end of the display she stopped dead again and gaped
at a poster.

Wanted for the murder of Reverend Evangeline Avengene,
Brianna Barter, a.k.a. Valkura.

"She looks younger than me, how was it she killed an
Avengene? Aren't they battle trained like daddy?"

"She was a fell sorceress from a line of witches, and
even at the age of fifteen, she bewitched Evangeline
and killed him in his bed."

Bellany leveled a dubious glare at the Reverend that
just about withered him where he stood, "And he was
found fully clothed in an unsoiled bed, no doubt."

Reverend Wright cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"Baron Daelrath and I have shared a few heated words
over that one. In any case, daughter, we owe our
allegiance to Marquis Avengene. You are to keep your
opinion about that young woman to yourself," Lord
Norwit said.

"Yes father," Bellany said in a stilted tone.

"I think it is time we got Bellany home. Thank you for
your hospitality Reverend, and my apologies for my
daughter's scornful look. I hope you understand she is
sensitive about matters surrounding the violation of
young women," Baronet Norwit said.

Reverend Wright cleared his throat once again, "Of
course milord; I understand."

-----

That afternoon Bellany had a lute lesson with an old
musician who played at the church. She kept the
conversation away from religion and tried to learn as
much about music as she could in spite of the aches in
her sides and her left palm. Her debility made her feel
as though her mind were smothered in molasses. Her
teacher thought she was "re-learning" her music at an
appreciable pace, but she felt like a snail. Something
was missing. She felt like such a lump and shooting
pains often ruined her best musical efforts in mid
song. Her mind somehow lacked the energy to really
shine and her loins were driving her batty.

That evening in bed Bellany stared up at the ceiling.
She had been avoiding thinking about the rogue's
gallery at the church and the things she had
remembered. It was down right scary.  Brianna Barter
had seemed so familiar, even the name haunted her. Had
she known her? Bellany could not imagine where she
might have met her. After all Bellany was only with the
orcs for under a year. Perhaps the orcs had taken
Brianna too. She was no doubt on the run from the law.
Even if Brianna had been a fellow slave, that did not
explain Bellany knowing Red Jack and his officers.
Bellany groaned. It was the same frustrating game. She
had more pieces to the puzzle but they still did not
exactly fit together, or did they?

If the sorcerer of Mortaebius had nearly destroyed Red
Jack she had originally been with Red Jack's men, then
what had happened to her when the sorcerer caught her?
The boys in her memory had seemed like pirate recruits.
Maybe she had been a recruit with them. It just did not
make sense. Norwit was too far away from the river for
pirates to have taken her. That and she did not know
how long ago Red Jack's men had run into the sorcerer.
It seemed that if Jack were raiding while the giants
were destroying forts in Avengene then he would have
been raiding Avengene during the year's period she was
a slave to the orcs. She would have to have known Jack
after his run-in with the sorcerer, but her memories
seemed to say that she had known him before that. Yet
that would have to have been before she was abducted by
orcs last summer. Bellany's head spun.

"Wait a minute," Her writing had been all wrong when
she had arrived. She might not be Bellany Norwit, yet
she looked like Bellany Norwit and there was and is a
holy war between the vindicator and Mortaebius."
Bellany decided to forget herself for a moment and just
try to put her dreams or memories together to see if
they made sense in and of themselves. Her last memories
seemed to start with the dreamstone priest and end with
Red Jack, why? She could not say. Then after Jack what
little bits she remembered did not yet fit together at
all. If the priest of Mortaebius had captured her with
Jack, and Jack was sent to Turnmoor for execution, what
had become of her?

Perhaps she was in league with the sorcerer. Had he put
her in touch with some secret order working for the
church of Mortaebius against the Church of the
vindicator? Maybe he had made a deal with Jack. That
would explain why Jack started raiding Avengene. In
addition it would explain why the things of the
vindicator sat so badly with her. There was an internal
logic to it, but it did not fit with Bellany's life and
abduction by the orcs. The two made sense apart but not
together. It was as if she were two people. Or maybe
she really was a demoness who had possessed the body of
Bellany Norwit.

She did not really feel like a demoness, but something
about her past and her present just did not jibe. She
decided she would just have to wait until she could
remember more pieces. For the moment she would try to
recuperate. Tomorrow she wanted to learn to take the
stairs on her crutches. Ideally she wanted to do away
with the crutches entirely but she was so weak and the
damage seemed to have affected more than her skin,
muscles and bone. Her internal organs were not right;
although the spot near her heart seemed to be healed.
Perhaps her heart and lungs were doing better than the
rest of her, just as her eyes were.

The next day Bellany learned to negotiate stairs. She
rose very early and dressed in a pastel pink dress, one
of the few outfits that had been altered to fit her.
Most of her clothes were too tight in the bust. Her
first flight of stairs consisted of three steps that
lead from the second floor of the manor house where her
room was to the curtain wall around the courtyard. She
took them slowly without mishap and then She hobbled
along on the wall to a good spot and sat between two of
the crenellations. Bellany waved down to the men
assembled for weapons practice, "Hi Daddy, hello
Sergeant Lime and everyone." The men looked up at her.
A herd of tiny tingles tickled her nose and ran down
her spine. "It can't be normal for a woman to feel lust
like this," Bellany thought to herself. Nevertheless
she noted which of the young men seemed to have the
strongest reaction.

By Wednesday Bellany was getting around pretty well
considering her debility. It hurt to move, sometimes
things inside her protested, but she found being caged
in her room intolerable. She felt a need in her loins
that was so strong it was driving her right out of her
mind. Her skin was clearing but at a snail's pace. It
was still noticeably yellow and blue. Her legs had
become only a little stronger but since her left arm
was a wreck, the added strength was very welcome. Her
left crutch had never done much more than steady her.
Her left arm was so damaged she was glad it was not a
delicate internal organ. The palm of her left hand
still ached dully as if it were dead. At first she
explored the manor, then she began to explore the
courtyard and some of the side buildings, the
brewhouse, the bakehouse, the granary, the smithy, the
servant's quarters and the barracks. The reactions she
got from the men were always the same. They noticed her
even in her current condition, but none of them was
willing to touch her with a ten-foot pole. Her daddy
had schooled them well.
---------------

This morning she had decided to take a look at the
stables or the carriage house as her mother called it.
The pungent aroma of horse manure assaulted her
nostrils as she entered. She recognized one of the
young men from the garrison hard at work mucking out a
stall. "Dorety!"

"The young man bowed. Good morning Lady Bellany."

It seemed after he greeted her that he could only look
at her feet. Bellany bent at the waist and lowered
herself down her right crutch a ways. From there she
looked up into the young man's face and waved with one
of her fingers.

Dorety grinned, "Uh, Lady Bellany, what are ye doing
down there?"

"My feet seemed to be the only thing you'd look at,"
Bellany said.

"Er because I'm just a commoner, ma'am," Dorety said.

"Before my abduction, was I just a little high and
haughty?" Bellany asked.

"Er yes ma'am; in a manner of speakin' you were,"
Dorety affirmed.

"I suppose I had a chaste reputation to uphold, moral
purity, a lady's pride and all that," Bellany said.

"Yes ma'am," Dorety said.

"It's a shame Dorety but let's be realistic, after a
hundred orcs bed a woman by force -chaste reputation
gone, moral purity gone, pride gone. It is just Bellany
now. Currently people only call me 'Lady' because my
father is a baronet. Before they had more traditional
reasons," Bellany said.

"Ya took a fall," Dorety said.

"I took a hard fall. Now I'm Lady Damaged Goods. I
doubt any nobleman would seriously consider marrying
me. It would be hard on a nobleman's pride. For one
thing he would think he was getting seconds after an
orc tribe, and for another his prospects of getting
children if a year of orcs produced none would be nill.
Lady Damaged Goods is barren and has been ill used."
Bellany remained bent over and realized she was not
going to be able to haul herself up her crutch as
easily as she had lowered herself down. Dorety finished
the stall he was working on and opened the next one.
She wanted to turn to look at Dorety in his new
location but instead she merely craned her neck and
looked behind her.

The black stallion in the newly opened stall trumpeted,
lipped the air, surged forward and nipped Bellany on
the rump.

"Ouch!" Bellany squealed as she looked up behind her
and inadvertently gazed between the forelegs of the
prancing stallion. She caught a glimpse of his
underside and the enormous hose that was drawing down
from its sheath in front of a pair of peach-sized
balls. Heat radiated through her. She had been working
to see a man's equipment for several days and had
gotten absolutely nowhere. What she had just seen was
ponderously male. It made her grimace as if one of her
pains had struck her.

Dorety was trying his darndest not to laugh as he
turned the horse and half dragged him into the finished
stall.

Bellany stared open-mouthed at the animal, fully
realizing the significance of the phrase, "Hung like a
stallion."

Dorety got the horse in the stall but he started
laughing and try as he might he could not stop. "I am
so sorry HAHAHUHAA, Lady Belan-HEHEHAHAAW, Starstruck
isn't usually a biter. He only nips mares in season
before he studs'em. HEHEHE I think he's in love!
HAAWHAHAHEHE!"

"First orcs, and now the only male that appreciates me
nips and clops around on hooves?" Bellany groaned in
exasperation. "I've taken a fall alright. Just then one
of her pains did hit her and she doubled over all the
more and screwed up her face against it."

Sorry Lady, I should have known bein' bent over was
going to hurt you. Dorety got his laughter under
control. "Here, let me help you up."

"Thank you," Bellany said, pulling on the young man's
lust as he pulled her up.

"Oooooo, you are a pretty Lady Belly; you really grew
up nice while ye were a slave girl. I'd be havin' about
the same reaction as Starstruck right now except bein'
a man I'm smart enough ta know Lord Norwit would flay
me alive even if he caught me with his new un-chaste-ed
daughter. You may know your reputation is shot, but I
get the feeling your daddy thinks people ought not to
count the orcs again' you since it wasn't yer fault for
bein' abducted. I guess that means ye've got the worst
of both worlds."

"Oh wonderful! It just isn't fair," Bellany said.

"Sometimes things in life just go from bad to worse,
Lady," Dorety agreed.

Bellany swore like a pirate in her mind as she crossed
Dorety off her short list. She was going to go mad for
sure and Dorety had been the last man on her short
list. She had already tried the mason from Li'Yeiraun,
and several boys from the garrison. There had to be
some fool man at Keep Norwit who would bed her now and
think about the consequences later. Bellany grimaced.
Was it really fair for her to seduce someone because
she was crazy for a man? She was not thinking straight.
All she would get was a moment's pleasure, but any man
she bedded was risking his life. Yet, something was
gnawing at her memory, something very important.

Bellany wandered to the bake house. Chef Dower was a
middle-aged man who, along with his wife, saw to all of
the cooking at Keep Norwit. He liked bread making best.

"Good day, Chef Dower. Did I ever cook before the
accident?" Bellany asked.

"Mmmph, no milady, methinks you spent most of yer time
at the church with your mother," Dower said.

"I'm bored. Would you teach me how you make bread
today?" Bellany asked.

"Aye, if ya like. If ye've got the stamina fer it, by
the end of the day perhaps ye'll be learned enough to
make the muffins for yer family's dinner. Wash up yer
hands and then we'll get to work," Dower said.

Bellany passed the day learning to make bread and
trying not to think about where she was going to find a
man to bed her.

At dinner that night, Chef Dower made an announcement.

"Lady Bellany was bored today and wanted to learn to
make bread. I taught her a few things and she picked
'em right up. By the end of the day she was doing so
well, she made tonight's muffins. I dare say I figured
I'd have to walk her through it, but I hardly needed to
do a thing." The chef bowed and the maids served
dinner.

"I had no idea you were interested in cooking, Bellany.
I thought you felt domestic chores were beneath you."
Lady Norwit said.

Bellany shrugged. "There is art to cooking, I think,
mother. Besides, I don't imagine I'll be marrying a
baron anymore. I might need to have some skills."

Eleanor Norwit looked distinctly uncomfortable for a
moment, "I suppose it would not hurt. You did very
well, honey. The muffins are delicious."

"Thank you mother," Bellany said.

Bellany was confined to Keep Norwit by her infirmity.
Her life felt so dreary. She was learning music, and
she spent some of her afternoons baking bread with Chef
Dower. Sometimes her innards kept her twitching around
in pain for hours and she did nothing at all. Lately
those times seemed to come more often. She had tried to
stop attempting to seduce men but had not entirely
succeeded, but where she had failed, they had passed
with flying colors. None of them would get close. The
men her father kept at his keep were loyal to him to a
fault. The ache between her legs was consuming, and no
matter how many times she teased herself off with her
fingers, her need did not diminish one whit. If
anything, it grew stronger.

Early Saturday night she tossed uncomfortably in bed
more asleep than awake. She flashed back into the
dreamy realm of memory. She was dancing in front of a
hoard of pirates. Lust was buzzing through her body
like a swarm of crazed honeybees. Her need was so deep,
so powerful. The pirates had aroused her to a fever
pitch. Bellany woke with a start. Her body was bathed
in sweat. The screaming need she felt in her loins was
driving her mad.

----

In a large master suite nearby, Lord Darl Norwit
settled into bed next to his wife, "Did you talk to
Grace today Eleanor?"

"Yes, dear. It was not good news. Bellany has more
blood in her urine. It's been getting worse ever since
church or before. I guess getting her back to what had
been her joy has been a disaster. She remembered
nothing and snapped at the reverend. I know being
cooped up in her bedroom drives her to distraction, but
it seems all this moving around has raised her spirits
but damaged her within. I am not sure what to do,
Darl," Eleanor said.

Darl shook his head, "I am sorry Bellany snapped at the
reverend. The case of Brianna Barter must have struck a
chord after the abuse she suffered at the hands of the
orcs. I feel badly about it since arguing with Baron
Dealrath on the subject. The Avengenes have forbidden
me to deviate from their official story, but there
were... rumors about Evangeline's excesses for years
before he died. I should have done more to follow up on
them.  What little checking I did do never turned up
any hard evidence. There was a young woman named Brenda
Dawes who went to the trouble of seeking an audience,
but she was crippled in a bad fall shortly before she
was to appear and had to cancel her appointment."

"Darl, don't agonize over Evangeline. Whatever his
sins, he has passed on and your allegiance is to
Avengene. It is no wonder Bellany snapped at Reverend
Wright after her ordeal with the orcs and what with her
health slipping so dangerously. Grace said she was
passing an alarming amount of blood in her urine. I am
very worried," Eleanor said.

"It is horrible she is getting worse after she has
already suffered so much, but we knew it might happen.
Leech Fraksen feared extensive internal damage. The
strange thing is that sergeant Lime came to me with a
disturbing report about Bellany today. I could hardly
believe it, but after questioning the men involved and
recalling the way I saw her look at the men as she
watched them practice, I realized it must be true,"
Darl Norwit said.

"What is it, dear?" Eleanor inquired pensively.

"Bellany has been trying to get friendly with some of
my men," Darl said.

"No," Eleanor replied incredulously.

Baronet Norwit nodded, "I board my finest here at the
keep, and they watch out for each other. They all had
essentially the same concern. They would not have said
anything but they were worried that Bellany has become
a beautiful young woman and that eventually one of them
might slip up. The others would feel as though they
were partially responsible for the man's hanging if
they had failed to report the earlier incidents to
their superiors. Thankfully she has done nothing
particularly untoward, just leading remarks and
meaningful expressions, but when five men come forward,
I am inclined to believe them."

"I cannot believe that as bruised as she is she can
still be overcome with desire." Eleanor shook her head.
Yet, five of your handpicked men would not lie about
such a thing. I do not know what the orcs did to her,
but perhaps she associates sex with survival."

Darl cleared his throat. "Yes I could see how that
might happen since she was a slave of the orcs."

"Darl, whether it upsets her or not, I think you had
better take her crutches. She needs to recover, and
this mischief she has been getting into has not been
helping," Eleanor said.

Darl nodded, "I will pick them up when I visit her in
the morning."

"Thank you dear. I think it's the right thing to do,"
Eleanor said.

------


Bellany's sleep was fitful; pain did not allow her to
rest easy, but the pain was not as bad as the hunger.
She was positively ravenous for a man and she did not
understand why but her lust was even harder to sleep
with than the pain. While Bellany looked at the
ceiling, her fingers strayed to caress her breasts and
to stroke her mound.  She was afraid. Whether she liked
to admit it or not, she was well aware of the
increasing blood in her urine and of the fact that her
kidneys seemed to be falling apart. The increasing pain
she felt from some of her internal organs scared her.
She might not be able to move much longer. If a kidney
failed, she could be bedridden again or much, much
worse. She plunged a finger into her heat. She needed a
man but her mobility was limited to the keep and might
be even more severely limited by her condition if she
got any worse.

When she realized she was fantasizing about hoards of
pirates, she stopped herself. "I really should have
been romanticizing about the perfect man to bed and
eventually marry," she though. A second finger slid
into her heat to join the first. Bellany looked out the
window at the blackness.

"He would be sweet, strong, and somehow noble but not
necessarily in the sense of being an aristocrat, and
he'd have to be fearless or foolhardy, or down right
dim-witted since daddy would hang him high if he bedded
me. There I go ruining my perfect man," Bellany
groaned. She slipped a third finger in to join the
other two. Maybe he could be a high priest or a mage or
someone with healing powers. I am sure there are plenty
mages and high priests running around Keep Norwit at
this hour," Bellany sighed.

She had hit rock bottom. She was dieing and there was
not a soul out there who could help her. Maybe she
could not prevent her death, but she needed a man, an
orc or even the troll shaman from her dreams. She was
so desperate she did not even care. She had to have
someone before she died or she would take her own life
to stop the wicked gnawing of her lust. The darkness of
the heavens mirrored her fait. A cool breath of wind
shifted Bellany's hair. She smiled, her eyes wet with
tears. The clouds had shifted and between them shown a
single bright star. A fourth finger deliberately
stretched her wider. She realized who her man must be.
She would go to him tonight or die trying.

The story continues in [Rapina]053 Summertime

copyright 2001-2002 by Rapina