Bound by His Oath ePub on Pre-Release Sale

Some of you may remember Bound by His Oath. It was one of the first serials I released, starting Jan1 2021. It took a bit longer than I hoped, but I finally have the epub version ready for release. This is a revised and updated version of the serialized story.

Bound by His Oath will be publicly available June 21, 2022.

book cover  Grey lettering on dark green background: Bound by His Oath by Jes Mahler.  The 'O' in 'Oath' is oversized. Inside the 'O' is a knight in chainmail. He is facing away from the viewer with his head bent and sword held up inverted in his right hand.

There are many historical romance novels where the feisty heroine is forced into marriage with the alpha male hero. Eventually she learns to love and submit to her new lord, and they live happily every after. In a distant future, this story is playing out again — with one minor difference.

Reimund Swiđhun has it made. With the king’s blessing, he will capture Lady Mildthryth, marry her, and finally have land to call his own. Lady Mildthryth Rúna has been fighting off would-be ‘suitors’ for months. She will marry on her terms or not at all. On their world, a noblewoman is expected to marry and accept her subordinate place.

Unfortunately for Reimund, Milthryth’s people have other traditions. She refuses give up and be a broodmare for any of the knights and lordlings the king sends after her. And before long, she has Reimund right where she wants him.

For Reimund, the only thing more shameful than being captured by a woman is bending knee to one, but he will do what he must to keep his friends and followers safe.

Even if it means spending the rest of his life Bound by His Oath.

Get Your Copy now!

While the book isn’t publicly available until June 21, there IS a private pre-sale going on Smashwords.

Get it now!

Feel free to share the private sale link with friends, family, or even on social media.

Don’t Forget to Review

Reviews can make or break an author. Please leave a review on Amazon, Smashwords, Storygraph, or your preferred book site.

First Came Trust (Finale)

Story Content Notes: Story Content Notes: suicidal character, dubious consent (nonsexual situation)

Long minutes after Abdal road ahead, Lilah was still reeling from eir revelation — revelations? — that Abdal was also a monster. That there were more of them, that Lady Bethania knew enough that Abdal would release eir beast where Bethania could see… that eir beast was no uncontrolled monster, that while wearing the face of the beast Abdal could talk normally and recognize Lilah and…

While Bethania didn’t know exactly what Lilah was thinking, ey was astute enough to realize some of what was racing through the cub’s mind. Ey wanted to give Lilah time to come to terms with everything ey had just learned. But Bethania, too, had things that needed to be said.

After several more minutes silence, Bethania cleared eir throat. “I know you need time to recover, pledged. But I need to learn about you before we get home.”

“Lady?” Lilah asked.

“I was rash in accepting your pledge, Lilah.” Bethania said, “I still believe I did the right thing, but I also know you didn’t intend to pledge and I didn’t — don’t — know anything about you to know if I could trust your pledge.”

Bethania spoke plainly, but eir tone and stiff stance on eir horse betrayed eir nervousness. Eir uncertainty.

“Lady Bethania, I… If you hadn’t taken my pledge, as you call it, I would have… acted rashly myself. I’m glad that you ‘took my pledge’ and gave me a chance.”

Bethania nodded and started to speak, then stopped. Ey didn’t know quite what to say.

Lilah kept turning eir words over in thought. It took em some time to work through things because Lilah had been so focused on eir own fears and hurts. So much had happened, in so short a time, that ey had no time to even recognize half the things ey felt, never mind deal with them.

In truth, Lilah still focused on eir own fears and hurts. And among the least of those fears (though ey had the awareness to recognize that it would later loom very large indeed) was Bethania. Lilah wanted Bethania to be trustworthy, but that didn’t mean ey was right to trust.

Still, as ey turned over Bethania’s words, ey realized ey wasn’t the only one who feared. True, trusting Bethania, especially after ey had tricked Lilah’s ‘pledge’ from em, was a risk. But Bethania had given many signs that ey was trustworthy — from saving three strangers to the proven truths ey had already given Lilah.

But Bethania had taken a risk as well. Ey had given Lilah incredible power over eir home and people. And what reason did ey have to trust?

Bethania was, in truth, terrified. Knowing that ey had done the right thing didn’t change the risk they had taken. A noble could take steps to protect eir people from a poorly chosen pledge. But they were not… good things, nor things Bethania wanted to do. And a great deal of damage could be done before a noble realized such action was necessary.

“Bethania?” Lilah reached a hand toward the noble. Bethania urged eir horse forward to ride a long side the wagon and took Lilah’s hand. “I didn’t know what I was asking for when I begged you to take my life.”

(Sherzod, still laying quietly, bit back a gasp and squeezed tears out of eir eyes.)

“I have learned — not just what it meant for me, but what risk you were taking yourself. You saved my family; you’ve given me hope that I can be saved. My life is yours, lady. I screw up as much as the next person, but I will do everything I can to be worthy of your trust.”

Bethania urged their horse closer and raised Lilah’s hand to eir lips. “Thank you, my pledge.”

In that moment, their eyes met over the back of Lilah’s hand. Awareness flashed between them — awareness of attraction, of what a pledge could be if they wished it, of desire, and hope, of curved lips and necklines and futures that were not to be feared but sought and embraced and loved.

And then Bethania’s horse stumbled, and the moment was broken. They glanced at each other, then laughed. There would be time for all that was not yet said.

And Lilah said the one thing that needed to be said then: “I am called ‘he’.”

Bethania’s smile lit up the night, and they journeyed on: first home and then onward through their lives together. Never forgetting that first came trust.

A week later, they crossed the border into Allule. One of the Pack members had run ahead to bring word, so some of the Pack was waiting for them at the border. They waited in human skins, as Lilah had not yet told eir siblings the full truth.

(Dalma had by then had time and more time to interrogate Lady Bethania, an interrogation that Lilah tried to disrupt whenever possible, and Sherzod, to Dalma’s dismay, refused to participate in. But Bethania, knowing that Lilah had not revealed eir truth to eir siblings, was careful in what ey said and Dalma came away each time unsatisfied. Ey could not deny that Lilah seemed not only satisfied with this ‘pledge’ thing but to enjoy Nobility Bethania’s company. So eventually, Dalma agreed to adopt Sherzod’s ‘wait and see’ attitude.

Dalma was beginning to suspect that Sherzod, too, was keeping secrets.)

Lilah felt the beast within em still as soon as ey saw the gathered strangers. Several dozen in all (not the full Pack, but they knew better than to overwhelm a new cub), they sat or stood or sprawled by the road. Abdal dismounted, gave eir reins to another, and ran ahead to greet them, to fill eir senses with the comfort of home and Pack and belonging that ey had been denied too long. Others that Lilah had only started to know ran with em.

Lilah was riding by then, several days out of the wagon and mounted next to Bethania.

Bethania looked a question at em, and Lilah nodded. Bethania called a halt, and Lilah slid out of the saddle, handing Bethania eir reins. Lilah glanced toward eir siblings, and Bethania said, “Go meet the Pack, then come talk. I think the time for secrets has passed.”

Lilah nodded, walked slowly out to meet the strangers.

Dalma called out to em, but Sherzod, tense and fearful and somehow knowing what this was, laid a hand on Dalma’s arm and shook eir head. Dalma glared at Sherzod but subsided.

Some of the Pack, seeing Lilah’s slow approach, started to run to em, but Abdal and the others who knew Lilah held them back, allowing em to approach in eir own time.

The closer Lilah got, the slower eir steps became. Ey had expected to be afraid, meeting so many strangers who were also beasts. To eir surprise, it was shyness that held em back, made it hard for em to look at those who waited eagerly to meet em. Ey finally came to a stop a few steps away from the waiting Pack.

Tension mounted as Lilah and the Pack and those watching all waited, not knowing who should move or what would happen next. Finally, one of the Pack stepped out from the group: an old person with thin white hair. Eir steps were the careful movements of one who suffers aching joints — especially after travel. Ey smiled and held a hand out to Lilah.

“Welcome, cub,” ey said, “I am Elder Aishah, one of the leaders of this Pack. I cannot tell you how pleased we are that you have been able to join us.”

“Thank you,” Lilah said quietly.

“I know you have been through much,” Elder Aishah said, “and have no reason to trust us. But I ask you to give us a chance. We are not what you have been told, and we can help you if you let us.”

Lilah hesitated a moment, then took the offered hand. “I trust Bethania and Abdal, and they trust you.”

Aishah squeezed eir hand and led em into the group. For the first time, the beast within Lilah relaxed, and suddenly Lilah was at peace and content in a way ey had never experienced before.

“Welcome home, Lilah,” Abdal said, and Elder Aishah echoed: “Welcome home.”

Lilah looked back, over eir shoulder to Bethania and said, “Thank you.”


Okay, short story this time. Sometimes that seems to happen. Though I expect we’ll be back sometime next year for Sherzod’s story and to learn how Dalma reacts when the full truth comes out.

Next week we’re starting our last new story for the year. (I expected it to be the first new story of next year but, eh, these things happen.)

Mighty Hero Force Epsilon

There are certain rules a sentai team is supposed to follow. They’re supposed to have matching uniforms, and a theme. And they ALWAYS have a guide or mentor. Someone who gave them their powers and can tell them how to use those powers. Someone who tells them what their team name is supposed to be and the history of their enemy.

The rules have been broken. They have no team uniform, they have no guide. They have magic powers and an unknown enemy taking over random cities.

At least they get along, right?

Return to:
First Came Trust (E1)
First Came Trust (E5)

Continue to:
Webserial Catalog
Bound by His Oath
Digital Garden Home

First Came Trust (E5)

Story Content Notes: Story Content Notes: suicidal character, dubious consent (nonsexual situation)

The siblings took some time to get settled into the wagon. It was, as they had been warned, crowded. The wagon wasn’t a large one, and it was still piled with bags and bundles — though at least all the boxes had been removed.

When the small caravan moved out, the wagon the siblings rested in was at the front, just behind the screen of guards. Normally, the wagons would have been further back, but then the siblings would have been breathing in the dust and dirt kicked up by everyone else.

The wagon, small as it was, filled most of the narrow road, leaving little room to either side. Nobility Bethania rode behind the wagon, as did Abdal, close enough to speak if the siblings wished to. Abdal’s squad ranged around and through the woods, guarding against both bandits and local authorities.

When the nobility first joined them, Dalma had wanted to immediately demand the answers Abdal had said they could ask for. But Lilah, knowing eir sibling, had anticipated this. Before even Dalma could burst out a question, Lilah met eir eyes and asked, “Wait, please. There will be time. And we still need rest.”

So for a time, they rode quietly. The siblings rested as best they could in the jolting, jarring wagon. Even with the rough ride, Lilah found emself slipping into another doze. The nobility watched them rest and guided eir horse on the rough ground, saying nothing of why ey was there. Dalma and Sherzod watched (and in Dalma’s case sometimes glared at) em, but kept silent so Lilah could sleep. Eventually, they drifted off themselves.

When Lilah woke a few hours later, it was well into evening. Seeing Lilah sit up, Bethania said quietly, “We will be pushing on tonight, traveling as far as we can safely. No one wants foundered horses, but we also don’t want to risk trouble with the local guard.”

“Yes,” Lilah said. “I would rather not see the guard again myself.” Ey smiled grimly. There was a moment of silence, then:

“I–”

“You–”

Both Lilah and Bethania spoke at once, but Bethania waved for Lilah to continue.

Rested now and ready for — needing — answers, Lilah said, “You were right. About the collar, lady. But you said it was only temporary. I worry…”

Bethania looked at Dalma and Sherzod, still apparently sleeping. “The pack will help you,” ey said. “I don’t know what you have been taught about… what you are. But you are not a monster, nor incapable of self-control.”

“Pack?”

Not sure what to say, especially with two others who might wake at any moment, Bethania looked at Abdal.

Abdal saw the nobility looking and nodded back. This was something for Pack to speak on. Ey gestured to Dalma and Sherzod. “They will learn sooner or later. You know that, do you not?”

Lilah swallowed, then nodded.

“Alright.” Abdal took a deep breath and seemed to settle deeper within themself, never looking away from Lilah. Their jaw and nose lengthened into a short snout, their eyes turned golden.

Lilah cringed away, only stopping emself from crying out for fear of waking eir siblings.

Abdal held the partial shift, giving Lilah a chance to see. But while Lilah battled fear, the beast within em yearned, reaching for the bonds of pack and security and place.

When Lilah had calmed a bit, Abdal spoke. “Pack is family, cub.” Eir voice had lightened, taking on a breathy, crooning quality. “It keeps us safe, keeps the madness at bay, so we never become what you fear.”

The beast’s sadness and grief in their isolation wound through Lilah, bringing tears to eir eyes.

“Soon,” Abdal soothed, allowing his face to shift back to its human-seeming. “There are not enough of us here to anchor you, cub. And we don’t dare run freely in this land. But we will be home soon, and you will be one of us.”

The words soothed the beast, soothed Lilah.

Whatever else Abdal might be, ey was not an out-of-control monster, attacking all in eir path. Nothing like the monster that attacked and damned Lilah.

With the beast calmed inside em and Abdal riding nearby as if nothing was wrong, Lilah believed for the first time that Bethania was right, that ey might be okay.

Unknown to any of them, Sherzod had woken when Lilah first spoke. Ey had not moved, wanting to get as much rest as ey could. And then ey had not moved because ey wanted to know more and was not ready to confront Lilah with eir secrets.

It is likely that if it had been Dalma listening, the conversation would have gone a great deal different than it did. But Sherzod was a quiet one and more willing to wait and think and plan than eir sibling. So ey listened and thought and waited. And what ey did when ey were done waiting is a story for another day.

Not knowing eir sibling listened, Lilah thanked Abdal. Still scared, but seeing for the first that the beast within them might, in fact, be more than a beast. Abdal, aware that ey had scared Lilah, road ahead to give the cub some space.

Lilah watched em ride away and listened to the beast who whined in fear to see em leave. Still afraid but trying to push past the fear, Lilah thought at eir beast, “Ey will be back. Ey is not leaving us; ey is riding ahead to keep us safe.”

The beast seemed to hear em, to settle. Not relax, no, it remained alert and nervous. But it was willing to wait and see. Lilah sighed with relief and thanked any god that might be listening for bringing Bethania and Abdal to rescue em and eir family.

Return to:
First Came Trust (E1)
First Came Trust (E4)

Continue to:
First Came Trust Finale

First Came Trust (E4)

Story Content Notes: Story Content Notes: suicidal character, dubious consent (nonsexual situation)

Lilah swallowed and made emself meet the soldier’s eyes. “Ey… She said that her people would understand.”

” ‘She’!” Dalma erupted.

Lilah and the soldier both ignored em, ignored Sherzod’s attempt to step forward and push the soldier back.

Dalma grabbed Lilah’s hand, shaking eir. “Lilah! Who could you know here well enough to use personal pronouns? What is going on?”

Still, neither Lilah nor the soldier looked away from each other.

Finally, the soldier nodded, deeply enough it might have been another bow. “I do understand. Though I wonder if you do.”

Lilah, in truth, didn’t understand. But ey remembered what Lady Bethania had said about it not being done ‘properly,’ and something in the edge the soldier’s voice had taken made them wonder if that lack of ‘proper’ might be more than just not having the right necklace.

Sherzod grabbed Dalma’s arm and pulled eir back, not knowing or liking what this was, but recognizing they would learn more by listening than demanding.

Taking a deep breath, Lilah said carefully, “I understand that she took what I offered.” Eir hands clenched together in eir lap. “That she has told me the truth and given me hope when I saw none. The rest I am willing to wait to understand. When she gave me this,” ey loosed eir hands momentarily to tap the collar, “she said that we did not have time for her to explain, and I agree. What might have happened if she waited… scares me.”

Lilah was saying too much, especially with eir siblings there, Sherzod with eir too-sharp mind and Dalma with eir unending questions. But ey was too tired to truly control eir tongue, too full of relief and hope and lingering fear to be cautious.

And perhaps that was well, for if ey had said less, perhaps, the soldier would not have understood, accepted.

For another long moment, ey stared deep into Lilah’s eyes then stepped back with another nod.

Dalma and Sherzod immediately crowded close. “What are you talking about?”

The soldier murmured, “I can explain at least part if you wish.” Lilah swallowed, then nodded. “Please.”

The soldier, whose name was Abdal and had served the Noble Bethania for over a decade, stuck eir head out the pavilion and waved over another guard. Someone needed to actually be guarding.

Once one of Abdal’s squad was in place, Abdal seated emself on the floor, leaning against one of the pavilion supports. To eir relief, the two humans seated themselves as well. For a moment, ey wasn’t sure how to begin. Then decided that there was no point in anything but bluntness.

“Your sibling pledged their life to Noble Bethania of Aelland in the Royal Domain of Balule. The nobility accepted this pledge. Unfortunately, ey did not have a proper pledge necklace here, which I assume is why ey used the collar. I will not speak of personal matters, but I know that collar has… meaning for the nobility, separate from the purpose it was made for.”

“Pledged? Why does that sound like being married?”

Abdal nearly laughed. Lilah blushed. While ey hadn’t paid attention at the time, ey did remember the way Noble Bethania looked at them. And truth be told, Lilah did not find eir recollection of Bethania at all distasteful.

“No, though there are those who say that a pledge is closer than marriage. And not without reason. A pledge is a two-edged sword. The pledged one is the voice and arm of eir sovereign. In council, or the royal court, or ordering the household, your sibling’s voice will be that of the Noble Bethania, and ey will be obeyed as such.”

All three siblings stared at em — shock, surprise, confusion, excitement, concern mirrored in different ways in each face. Abdal drove on, knowing ey was overwhelming them but needing them to hear all.

“But your voice belongs to you, yes? You control your voice, your arms, your legs. In the same way, the pledge’s life belongs to their sovereign. The sovereign may command that the pledged sleep in the kennels or serve in the sovereign’s bed or work as a drudge, and none may gainsay them.

“That’s not how it’s supposed to be. And I can’t see Noble Bethania doing such. But it’s happened and will again.”

No one said anything for a long moment, the siblings struggling with this… drastic change of circumstances Lilah had created.

Then Sherzod, gently, “You wanted this?”

“Yes,” Lilah said, not daring to say more. Afraid to even hint at how little ey had truly understood of what ey had done. Of what ey had committed emself too.

“Why?” Dalma demanded, but Abdal cut em off.

“We do not question the pledged,” ey said, and Lilah shuddered with relief. Ey had dreaded Dalma’s questions, needed time to answer eir own before ey could answer any others.

“Their reasons for offering are their own,” Abdal continued, “and they have done a hard enough thing without being hounded by those who doubt. Questions, if you have them, you may ask of the nobility who accepted the pledge.” Something in eir tone said that Abdal also had questions ey would be asking of the nobility.

While the siblings had been speaking with Abdal, others had been preparing to get back on the road. Two came in to carry out the nobility’s special chest. Others began deconstructing the pavilion to pack away in the wagons. Then the two who took the chest returned and waited, somewhat patiently, to be able to pack up the blankets and cot.

Abdal looked to Lilah. “I do not know how you prefer to travel, but injured as you are, I believe a place in the wagons has been prepared.”

One of those waiting bowed. “Yes, Lieutenant. There is a canvas over the bed of the first wagon so the Pledged can stay out of the sun.”

Lilah looked to Dalma and Sherzod. “I need to do this. I know you don’t understand.”

Dalma looked away and sighed. “Fine. It’s not like you to rush into things, so if you are, there is a reason. And don’t think I’ve forgotten that you apologized for the guard trying to kill us.”

“But that can be discussed another day,” Sherzod put in. “I don’t think it would be safe for us to go home, and” ey grimaced, “my courtship of Phillipos was going nowhere.”

“Took you long enough to admit it,” Dalma muttered.

“So it’s not like anyone is waiting up for us,” Sherzod continued ignoring Dalma. Ey looked to the waiting servants, “Since the nobility had invited us to come, I assume there is room for Dalm and I somewhere as well?”

“Yes,” ey was assured, “it will be crowded, but there should be enough space in the wagon.”

Return to:
First Came Trust (E1)
First Came Trust (E3)

Continue to:
First Came Trust (E5)

First Came Trust (E3)

Story Content Notes: Story Content Notes: suicidal character, dubious consent (nonsexual situation)

While Lilah slept, pledged emself to Noble Bethania, and slept again, eir siblings rested in the shade of another pavilion. More of a tarp than a pavilion, in truth. An internal wall from Bethania’s pavilion, held up by four stout poles with blankets piled underneath.

Unlike Lilah, Dalma and Sherzod never truly fell unconscious and didn’t need to be carried off of the beach. They had not been fighting an internal battle for those long hours, and had mental, if not physical, reserves left to them.

At first, they accepted their separation from Lilah. They had seen Lilah carried from the beach and if the Balulian strangers were giving Lilah the extra care ey needed, they could only be grateful. For a time.

While Lilah battled the beast within em, eir siblings had time — far too much time — to think. Long before the Balulian’s arrived they had separately concluded that Lilah must know what they didn’t: why the guard had seized them and left them to die. There were many parts to that question, of course. The one that most concerned Sherzod was why the guard had left them to die.

That isn’t to say ey wasn’t bothered by the whole ‘seize them without reason’ or ‘execute them’ parts. Those flew in the face of everything about how their land was supposed to work. It was (in theory) a land committed to the rule of law. Harsh law, but harsh as much to its upholders as its subjects.

Still, while a violation of everything ey believed in, Sherzod knew a bit of history — not much, but a bit — and so knew that there had been times and places where such things did happen. It had taken hours, lying in the hot sun, for em to work past shock, and horror, and disbelief, to acceptance. But eventually, ey had.

What ey couldn’t work past was the foolishness, the incompetence. Why not just kill them? Why not at least leave a guard?

The Balulians, of course, brought with them other questions. Why had they rescued the siblings? Why did they ask no questions, seem to treat it as normal to find a family left to die for no reason.

Dalma was less inclined to quiet thought than Sherzod. A bare handful of minutes after they had been guided to the pavilion, ey began demanding answers.

Those demands were generally ignored, of course. No one knew if the siblings knew about Lilah’s other nature. And given local prejudices, no one wanted to tell them if they didn’t. If Lilah hadn’t trusted their siblings, it wasn’t for the Balulians to reveal eir secret.

So it was a tense time for the siblings and the Balulians who tended them. Most of the tension fell on the lieutenant tasked with guarding the siblings. It was the lieutenant who had to block their attempts to seek out Lilah, redirect or rebuff their questions, and keep alert for any warning from eir men watching the road for approaching trouble.

It was a great relief to em to be able to tell the siblings that Lilah was awake and able to speak with them. It was less of a relief to tell them that the caravan would be heading out within the hour. “Your sibling will be coming with us. You’ll need to decide for yourselves if you’ll come as well or stay.”

To say the siblings were displeased is a great understatement, but even Dalma put off arguing or asking questions in eir eagerness to see Lilah and be sure ey was safe.

Lilah was relieved to see eir siblings enter the pavilion, but also scared. Ey wasn’t ready to tell their siblings about the beast within em, that ey wasn’t human any longer.

“Dalma, Sherzod,” ey greeted, reaching out to pull eir siblings into a hug. It hurt, the pressure on the sunburn across eir chest and arms. But it was worth it. Dalma and Sherzod thought so too, crowding closer. “I’m so glad you are safe.”

And Lilah meant it in more ways than the siblings realized. In spite of eir fears, the beast remained quiet within em. Food and rest had restored eir energy and ey had expected the beast to begin fighting to escape again. Instead, it lay within em, radiating a mix of anger and resignation. Lilah got the sense that the beast knew the collar trapped it. How ey couldn’t begin to guess but at that moment did not care. Noble… Lady Bethania had been telling the truth of that, and the relief of it had brought tears to Lilah’s eyes.

“Same, brother,” Sherzod said, oblivious to Lilah’s thoughts. Ey squeezed Lilah tighter. “I think we all feared… Lilah, what happened? Why did the guard–”

The three released each other as ey spoke and Sherzod was cut off by Dalma’s sudden growl. “What is that?” ey demanded, pointing at the collar.

In their first joy at each other’s safety, Lilah had pushed eirself up from the cot without thought, and Dalma and Sherzod had rushed to eir without truly seeing.

But as the embrace ended, Dalma had examined Lilah, worried and needing to know eir sibling was well. And seen the collar.

Belatedly, Lilah pulled up a sheet from the cot, trying to cover it. “It’s nothing… just…”

Sherzod pulled the sheet from Lilah’s hands and put it aside. “This… this is not nothing, Lilah.” The Balulians must know, ey thought. Whatever turned the guard against us, they know it too, whatever secret it is Lilah keeps.

Dalma turned on the soldier who still accompanied them. “Is this why you have kept us away from Lilah? Because you have no–”

Lilah reached out and took eir siblings’ hands. “It’s not what you think, Dalma, Sher.”

“It better not be,” Dalma growled again.

Exhausted still, filled with fear of what ey had become, what ey must admit, Lilah had no patience for Dalma’s own fears and anger. “And if it was?” Lilah snapped out. “My life is not, has never been, yours to decide sister. And if slavery was the price of your lives I would pay it, and gladly.”

Any reply from Dalma or Sherzod was cut off by the lieutenant’s sharp whistle. “While I’m sure the nobility meant the local authorities when ey said I was to keep you safe, overexerting yourselves right now would also be dangerous.” Ey stepped forward, pushing back Dalma and Sherzod with their presence. Ey stopped in front of Lilah and examined the collar a moment, then ducked eir head in a brief bow that further confused the siblings.

“If I am correct, cub, while your life may not ever have been your siblings to decide, it is now no longer yours to decide either.”

Lilah swallowed and made emself meet the soldier’s eyes. “Ey… She said that her people would understand.”

Return to:
First Came Trust (E1)
First Came Trust (E2)

Continue to:
First Came Trust (E4)

First Came Trust (E2)

Story Content Notes: suicidal character, dubious consent (nonsexual situation)

Bethania left the siblings for eir people to deal with. Once the pair recovered enough to travel, they would be no concern of Bethania’s. Though Bethania did plan to offer the siblings a place if they wished it. It wasn’t, ey thought, very likely that the siblings would want to stay here, after all.

But the noble left orders to be informed as soon as the cub was lucid. That was a problem ey had to address, and soon.

Eir people put together a rough trail meal for an early dinner, and just as Bethania finished eating, eir healer reported that the cub had awakened.

As Bethania walked up, the cub was sitting on a cot, shivering in the slight breeze. Eir eyes locked on Bethania with a familiar sharpness that warned something more than human lurked behind that gaze.

Bethania met the cub’s eyes until ey looked down, probably not even realizing why. Then ey took up a light blanket that had fallen off the cub and wrapped it around eir shoulders. The irony of sun poisoning was how easily one could take chill once cooled a bit.

“What is your name, stranger?” Bethania asked as the cub grabbed the corners of the blanket and pulled it tighter.

“Lilah, nobility.”

“Lilah. I am Bethânia of Aelland. I have been acting as the ambassador for Royal Jennie of Balule and was returning home when one of my people found you and your siblings. Your siblings are safe. They are free to do as they wish, including enter my service and return home with me.

“You are a more difficult matter.”

Now, Lilah was still confused and disoriented but thinking much more clearly. And this time ey caught the implication.

Ey closed eir eyes and whispered, “You know what I am…”

The quick wits, especially after such an ordeal, pleased Bethania. “Yes.” Bethania paused a moment to order eir thoughts, but before ey could Lilah slid off the cot and crouched down at the nobility’s feet.

“Kill me, nobility,” ey pleaded. “Before I hurt anyone else.”

Bethania was stunned, of course. Ey knew how much hate the Pack folk faced in this land, but it had never occurred to em that Lilah would rather die. Or… did the cub know anything about the Pack folk at all? Did ey believe the madness was inevitable?

Bethania should have refused the plea, should have explained. Ey knew that. But ey felt the pressure of time, the need to return home and to the full pack. Ey feared ey wouldn’t be able to convince Lilah that the cub would do emself harm. If Bethania refused the plea, would the cub even kill emself, believing ey had no other choice?

And, truth be told, Bethania was no mensch. Ey tried to be a good noble, a good person. But ey could be selfish, and ey could be manipulative. And Lilah was zaftig, with short feathery hair, and the line of eir bowed neck made Bethania want to lick eir way up. Then ey would nibble on the jawline until ey felt the tips of that hair tickling eir lips…

So instead of refusing and teaching, Bethania twisted the cub’s words to eir own purposes.

“Are you saying you give your life to me?”

“Yes, nobility. I should have killed myself, but I went to the guard, hoping they would be able to hunt down the monster that attacked me so it wouldn’t turn anyone else. But they left us…” ey waved eir hand out towards the beach. “I came so close to losing to the beast, to ripping free and then turning on my siblings. I beg you, take my life, nobility, so no one else is at risk.”

It was enough — not the traditional pledge but it satisfied the forms.

That the cub had already thought of taking eir own life silenced the last of Bethania’s doubts — or was it eir conscious that was silenced? Regardless, all hesitation ended.

Most of Bethania’s belongings had not been unpacked, of course. But a small chest had been set in the corner of the pavilion, one that was always to be available whenever ey might need it. Tucked into a corner of the chest was a leather slave collar like was used in that land. A momento, for such things were never used in Balule, of one Bethania couldn’t save. And perhaps that memory was one more spur to eir decision.

Lilah had kept eir head down and did not look up as Bethania approached em again. In truth, Lilah was battling the beast again. The beast had been quiet since ey woke in the pavilion and got quieter still when Bethania faced em down. But it did not want to die and knew Lilah meant to see them both dead.

“I accept your life and promise you will never be a danger to your siblings.” As ey spoke, Bethania wrapped the collar around Lilah’s neck, tightly enough there was barely room to slip a finger between leather and skin, and locked it in place.

Lilah looked up at Bethania, shock and fear written on eir face. Whether ey feared more that Bethania would not kill em or the slave collar, perhaps not even Lilah could say. “What–”

Bethania cut them off, tipping up Lilah’s chin so the cub looked them in the face again. “By your pledge, your life is mine to do with as I will. The collar will stand as temporary pledge necklace until we return home, and I present you a proper necklace. My people will understand the intent, and yours will assume you are my property and not interfere until we are out of this benighted land.

“As one pledged to me, you have the right to address me informally, by name and gender. I am referred to as ‘she’.”

Lilah was stunned. But in only a few moments, anger began to replace shock. “You–”

“I have done as you asked, cub. I have taken your life and ensured the safety of your siblings. It was not well done of me, but we do not have time to do things properly.” Bethania tapped a finger on the collar. “While you wear this, you cannot transform. That buys us time. Time to do all the things we cannot do now.

“I know you do not understand. And I know you have no reason to trust me. But I believe you do not want to die. And I know you do not need to die.”

Lilah stared into Bethania’s eyes. For the first time since ey felt the beast stirring within em, ey felt a spark of hope. That spark terrified em, as hope often does. Nothing is more frightening than hope when one has given in to despair. But with the nobility holding eir eyes again, the beast within Lilah quieted, and Lilah dared to hope, dared to trust. Ey tried to swallow, then rasped, “I will try, nobility.”

“Bethania, Lilah,” the noble said with a relieved grin. “Or if you must use a title, ‘lady’.”

Lilah would have shaken eir head in confusion, but a wave of exhaustion swept over em. Ey swayed for a moment, and Bethania reached out to help em back onto the cot.

“Now drink, eat something, and sleep. We will not stay here much longer, but we can wait long enough for that.”

“Yes… lady,” Lilah managed to say before a huge yawn overtook them.

Bethania sent one of eir people for food and water and stepped out of the pavilion. An hour, two at most. Then the siblings would need to decide, and the small caravan get back on the road.

Return to:
First Came Trust (E1)

Continue to:
First Came Trust (E3)

First Came Trust (E1)

First Came Trust is the, well, first, in a trilogy about three siblings surviving and rebuilding among strange people in a strange land.

Lilah knew ey was dead the moment ey met the creature in the woods. Ey never expected eir doom to overtake eir siblings as well. A stranger on the road may offer salvation, but is it worth the price?


Story Content Notes: Story Content Notes: suicidal character, dubious consent (nonsexual situation)

Lilah had expected the guards to come. Had been expecting them for over a day, in fact. But ey hadn’t expected how the guard had come. No quiet knock to escort em away. No apologies or sympathy for what must be.

The door burst open, broken down by a battering ram, though it had not been latched or locked. Guards poured into the small home Lilah shared with their siblings. They swarmed over Lilah, knocking em to the floor. Lilah didn’t resist, didn’t protest. Not until ey heard Sherzod and Dalma, saw eir siblings thrown down on the floor beside em. Then Lilah protested. But eir protests were short-lived. The beast within em, the beast that had been growing stronger ever since that night in the woods, nearly slipped eir control.

Almost, ey let it. Almost ey let the beast rip through em and seize control, tear through the guards who had betrayed em. Who ey had gone to for help.

But ey was afraid. Afraid that the beast would turn on Sherzod and Dalma. That the beast would kill and kill and not stop, as the stories all said. So ey didn’t fight back. Ey let the guards bind em, followed them silently, and turned all eir will to fighting the beast within em.

The guards loaded them in a cart and drove out of the village along the shore road. Dalma and Sherzod fought and cursed the guards, frantic not just with fear but with ignorance. They had no idea why the guards had broken down their doors and dragged them from bed. No more than they knew why their sibling had been so secretive, so anxious, the past few days.

It wasn’t until they had been in the cart several minutes that fear overwhelmed ignorant anger. That they noticed Lilah looked sick and road in silence, realized ey had not once fought back. Then Dalma and Sherzod moved as one, bracketing their sibling, standing between em and the guard, offering em what little protection they could.

A few miles down the coast road, the guards stopped and pulled them out of the cart. The sun was peeking over the horizon when the guards forced them down onto the stand and staked them out spread-eagle above the high tide line.

All the siblings knew what would come. Not because they had ever heard of the guard doing such a thing, but because they lived in a seaside town. Every few years, a boat’s mast broke or a child was lost, and, sooner or later, they died from the sun and sea. The salt spray would suck the water from their bodies, the sun heat them to delirium, and in a day or three, it would be over.

Sherzod and Dalma were surprised when the guards all left, not one on watch to be sure they did not find some way to escape. But Lilah understood, and ey started laughing. Laughing and laughing, hysterical now, tears seeping down eir face.

Ey could escape in an instant, release the beast, and it would snap the ropes that bound em. But only if ey was willing to kill eir siblings. The guards did not dare kill Lilah themselves, though ey had begged them to. Afraid of what ey could become, they had left em to die in a prison made of love.

Dalma yelled at Lilah, begging em to settle, to explain. Sherzod tried to soothe, to calm. Both fought the ropes, hoping for enough slack, enough leverage, to fight themselves free.

Lilah was snapped out of her hysteria not by eir siblings but by the beast within em, lunging for freedom. It knew it could snap these ropes in a moment. Snap them, and then…

No. They may be doomed, and Lilah may be damned, but Lilah would hold off the beast until eir last breath. While Dalma and Sherzod lived there was a chance they could survive this.

“I’m sorry,” was all Lilah could spare a breath to say. Ey threw emself into the most important battle of eir life.

By the time the sun started creeping west, Lilah and the beast had both given up the fight, too exhausted and worn out to continue. Lilah’s skin prickled and burned from the sun, and eir mouth was parched. Sometimes Dalma’s voice would float over them, or Sherzod’s. But the words had long ago stopped making sense.

A sudden coolness washed over em, and ey blinked, trying to make eir dry eyes focus. A dark shape stood over em, blocking the sun. Though Lilah did not yet know it, salvation had come in a most unlikely form.

Bethania, the noble of Aelland in the royalty of Balule, had been returning home from a trade mission. Eir travels were interrupted when an outrider had brought word of the three siblings trapped on the beach, one of them a new cub. Not being from this barbarous land, Bethania immediately ordered a halt to give aid to the trio. Ey thought wryly, that had ey been foolish enough to try to ride by, the half of eir guards and a handful of servants who were Pack would have rebelled the moment ey gave the order.

Now Bethania crouched over the barely conscious cub. “Why are you here?” Ey asked. Bethania thought ey knew — the locals’ hatred of Pack had been a thorn in their people’s side the entire time they’d been at court. But Bethania had to hear the cub’s answer for emself, to know if the stranger had given into the madness. Without the support of a pack, new cubs could lose themselves to their second nature and its fear.

The cub blinked at her a moment, then ey said, “My fault, nobility.” Ey coughed, and the two staked out next to them stirred, realizing they were no longer alone. Bethania waved eir people forward to help the two humans. “Save my siblings, please. They don’t… they don’t…”

Bethania sighed with relief. The cub was still emself — whoever that had been.

“Why didn’t you free yourself?”

If Lilah hadn’t been near delirious from sun poisoning and exhaustion, the question would likely have terrified em. But ey was too mind-fogged to recognize that Bethania knew of ‘the beast’ and simply answered with the truth. “Would have killed… them… please save them… from me.”

The effort to speak was too much. Lilah realized that eir siblings were already on their feet, freed by the strange noble’s people, then darkness closed in.

Bethania stepped back to allow eir people to work. They wet down the three sufferers with seawater to cool them. The siblings were able to walk with support and were led to sit in the shade of a wagon, brought honey water, and urged to drink slowly. The cub was carried to a quickly erected shelter, Bethania’s pavilion — it was larger than needed but easiest to get out of the wagons. A servant stayed with the now unconscious cub, dripping water into eir mouth.

Satisfied the strangers were getting the needed care, Bethania gave orders for a longer halt and increased security. Whoever had tortured and tried to kill the three might be near. They needed to stay at least a short time. Best be prepared.

Return to:
Webserial Catalog

Continue to:
First Came Trust (E2)

Snippets: Hiatus Week 4

Reverse Stockholm

Content Notes: alien abduction ‘romance’, no adult content

She stood before him. A literal sacrifice to save her world. Though very far from virgin. Behind them, hundreds of news cameras watched, projecting her fate to the world in live HD.

“Kneel.”

She hesitated. The watching newsies gave her, for the last time, some external power. She could use that. Maybe.

“My name is Jessica.”

He loomed over her. “I don’t give a damn what your name is. Kneel.”

“You say that you aren’t barbarians. Just different. You say that you don’t wish to harm anyone, but you are desperate.” He raised his hand. She spoke faster. “You don’t want a scene here. All I want is for you to use my name.”

He snarled. She braced herself for the blow. “Very well. Kneel, Jessica.”

She slipped easily to her knees and smiled up at him. “Thank you.”

Inside she was cheering. She had made him bargain with her.

The shuttle lifted, whisking them into orbit. She felt his eyes on her. He had to know what she looked like. They had asked for her specifically. Breaking the silence would put her at a disadvantage. She leaned back in the seat and recalled the plot of her latest story. Her fingers twitched, needing to fidget. A strand of hair to twirl settled them, and she distracted herself figuring out why her heroine refused to cooperate with the storyline.

“Tell me a story.” The sudden demand jarred her out of her thoughts.

“Um… what kind of story?”

“Like the stories you write.”

“Oh.” She sighed. Of all the things he would ask. “I can’t. I wish I could.”

He snarled. “You will do what I tell you.”

“I can tell you a story, but I can’t tell those stories. I’ve tried storytelling, but it’s very different from writing. I can tell fairytales and myths and fables and personal experiences. But the stuff I write is too intricate. I’m not a good enough storyteller to spin that kind of yarn.

“What I could do… what is your name?”

He glared. She waited. “What could you do?”

Damn it. “What I could do, Man With No Name, is….

The shuttle docked, and she followed him out into the bay. “Strip.”

She’d been half-expecting it. But she hadn’t been able to come up with any way to turn it to her advantage.

She turned around and undid the fastenings on her suit. One by one, the pieces fell to the floor until she stood wearing nothing. Not even a hat to cover her hair.

He led her through the bay and into the ship. They passed many men but no women. Where were they? Did these people segregate by gender? If they did, she was screwed.

All the men they passed stopped and saluted. Many of them stared at her hungrily. She shivered and did her best to ignore them.

They finally entered a large room where another man waited.

“So this is our female,” he said.

“We are not barbarians. Her name is Jessica.”

Yes! It worked. She might be in their power, but she had established herself as an individual. Time to ride that wave.

She extended her hand and stepped toward the new man. “Hi. It’s nice to meet you…”

“Alec,” the leader said behind her. “His name is Alec.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Alec.”

Ridge

With a pensive sigh, she traced the ridge of his eyebrows. They stood out so sharply from an otherwise flat face. She had never seen anyone with such a face.

“Jetal, come on!”

She flushed and hurried away from the unconscious supplicant.

“Really, Jetal,” Senior Penitent Rasha said, “You need to stop mooning over the supplicants! It’s unseemly.”

Jetal kept her eyes down and murmured, “Yes, Senior Sister.”

She heard Rasha sigh. “Well, come on. We don’t want to keep Initiate Marga waiting.”

“No, Senior Sister.”

Jetal kept her expression calmly attentive through the ensuing history lesson. She had spent hours in the library, reading the history of the Temple and the Goddess’ Chosen. She never understood how Initiate Marga managed to make all those fascinating stories so BORING.

When the lecture was over, she tried to disappear out the door without being noticed.

“Junior Penitent Jetal!” The sharp voice froze her in the doorway. A living obstacle for her fellow Penitents to flow around.

She turned and re-entered the lecture hall. “Yes, Initiate Marga?”

“The Matriarchs have noted your interest in the Supplicants.”

Jetal winced, waiting for the reprimand.

“They have determined to assign you two hours a day aiding the Sisters in charge of the Supplicants. There is a shortage of hands in the Supplicant quarters, and perhaps exposure will wear away your fascination.”

Even the sting of the Initiates final words couldn’t keep a grin from spreading across Jetal’s face. She bowed, “Thank you, Initiate!”

Space Junk

The aging satellite had circled the small green and white planet for millennium. It observed the rise of a dominant species, evolving from primitive bands to stone cities. The domestication of animals, the beginning of organized war.

Its masters, presumably, received the reports it beamed back, but no response ever came. It circled on, becoming erratic and unreliable. Micro pitting damaged its processors, batteries ran down, and, as the solar cells lost alignment, did not recharge.

More years passed, the civilization below continued to evolve. Finally, the satellite stopped working entirely. It floated in space, an unusable collection of circuits and metal. Without rockets to stabilize its flight, its orbit degraded—a long, slow fall to the planet below.

Berchad was plowing his field, getting ready to plant the mage-touched rhubarb seeds. He ignored the flash of fire high above. The High Mage and Regus-the-Bastard had been fighting for a week already. He figured they’d still be going at it come harvest time.

If he’d looked up, he might have had some warning of the pile of molten metal which was about to crash into his just-planted turnips.

Werewolf foodbank

Frank looked over the long line of people stretching ahead of him. The foodbank doors hadn’t even opened yet, but already the line of people waiting stretched around the block. In the West, the sun sank steadily towards the horizon. He could feel the blood moon’s call itching between his shoulder blades.

Next to him, a young woman bulging with pregnancy explained to an older couple how the foodbank worked. In front of him, a man and woman chatted in sign language, the woman occasionally calling a greeting to people who passed. Ahead of them were boxes of books, dumped on the sidewalk after the church’s latest rummage sale. Several folks cautiously left their spot to dig through the boxes.

Frank’s cupboards at home weren’t empty. But he couldn’t afford to buy more food until the foodstamps came in next week. And the cubs needed meat to stay healthy. According to social services, he made enough money to supplement foodstamps with cash, but the money he sent to his ex as child support each month wasn’t counted in his “expenses.” That $300 bite out of his paycheck left things… tight.

It would be another two months before bow hunting season. And with the bloody supermoon tonight only an idiot would hunt on four legs.

He glanced at the clock on the church tower. Half an hour until the doors opened. An hour and a half until moonrise. Three hours until the eclipse started.

He couldn’t afford to be out tonight. The chance of being away from home—hell the chance of still being at the foodbank–when the moon rose was too great. But the cubs needed meat.


Ridge and Space Junk are two more from the Second Life writing group. Reverse Stolkholm and Werewolf foodback are my own brainstorms. With Reverse Stolkholm I was playing with the ‘alien abduction’ subgenre and how the captive in such a story might turn the tables on her captors, rather than submitting to them. Werewolf foodbank has a bit of a more prosaic background — some years ago there was a supermoon/blood moon on a night the local foodbank was open. How could I not?

Next Tuesday we’ll be starting a new story, First Came Trust, and Friday we’ll be resuming What You Will. Thanks for your patience during this hiatus.

First Came Trust is the, well, first, in a trilogy about three siblings surviving and rebuilding among strange people in a strange land.

Lilah knew ey was dead the moment ey met the creature in the woods. Ey never expected eir doom to overtake eir siblings as well. A stranger on the road may offer salvation, but is it worth the price?

Ulfsark: Hiatus Week 3

Content notes: abuse, untreated PTSD, violence, death threats

Salma pushed aside the curtain and stepped into the airway. As always, the space between the thick sod outer walls and the wooden inner walls of the long house was cool and damp. The shielded oil lamp she carried cast a dim glow across the nearest support beam and a few feet of dirt floor.

A strong tang filled the air. Someone had been to lazy to go to the outhouse. Salma’s nose wrinkled. She watched the ground as she moved through the airway, careful of where she put her feet.

The airway stretched the full length of the long house, providing insulation and protecting the wooden walls for damp and rot. More than half the distance from the curtain Salma entered, a dark shape stepped back, pressing itself against the wooden walls. In the darkness, the dim light of the lamp came steadily closer. The monster’s golden eyes tracked the light, and the sturdy hand that held it.

The filth saved Salma’s life. When the flickering light bounced off a stinking puddle, she stopped. The beast launched himself at her. With a clattered of chains, he jerked to a stop, his teeth inches from her throat.

A daughter of the north, Salma didn’t scream, but stepped back quickly and her free hand grabbed the hilt of her knife.

The beast stood revealed in the light of her lamp. A man’s body, but covered in a thick pelt of dark grey fur. The head a mix of man and beast, with golden eyes, and a muzzle filled with sharp teeth. His hands, held by thick chains bolted to the wall, had thick, dark claws in place of finger nails.

Salma gasped. She released her knife. Her wide eyes glittered with tears before she blinked them away. Coming out of her defensive crouch, she curtsied, her eyes fixed on a spot above the beast’s head. “Greetings, ulfsark.”

The beast growled again. They stood for a moment, unmoving. Then the beast relaxed. The arms stopped straining against the chains. The muzzle softened. The face shifted, the eyes taking on a human cast while keeping their bright gold color.

“It has been a long time since one of your kin feasted in my hall, warrior. I am sorry I cannot give you a proper welcome.”

“No one welcomes a monster.” The whisper was more growl than speech. He stepped back from her, turned to face the wall.

Salma stepped forward, coming within his reach. “I do not see a monster. How came you to my hall, ulfsark? Who did this?” Her finger brushed the chains that held him.

“The Bloodaxe brought me. If you do not heed him, he will loose me on your people.” He whirled, grabbing her arm, his claws digging into her skin. “Leave before I kill you. And listen to the Bloodaxe.”

She tilted her head. “I am a daughter of the northlands, ulfsark. I have faced death every winter of my life. I will fight you if I must. But I will not fear you.”

The claws retreated from her arm, though his hand never moved. The last of his muzzle disappeared into a human mouth. “How are you doing this?” fear flickered in his eyes.

“I told you, warrior. My hall has welcomed ulfsark and berserk many times. I am not a threat to you, nor do I fear you. What has the Bloodaxe done, to drive your wolf out of your control?”

He laughed. “Not the Bloodaxe. His father. Haraald Shockhair did what 15 years of battle could not.”

“And now he uses you as a tool of his conquest.”

“Yes.” He met her eyes, and his teeth hovered between fang and human. “Heed him, or more blood will soak my claws.”

She shook her head. “No.”

His hand tightened on her arm, claws once again dug into her flesh. “I could kill you now.”

“Or you could free me.”

He froze.

“Warrior. Help me escape the Bloodaxe, and I will help you. You can come with us, and you and your wolf will heal. You can own your life again.”

He stared at her. Tears shimmered in his eyes. Then he dropped her arm and turned away. “Go. When they do release me, I will try to make your death quick.”

Blood trickled down her arm. She reached toward him, then turned and walked away. Leaving the broken warrior standing in a pool of his own piss.


Some time ago I read an essay on evidence of PTSD in warrior myths. Among other things, the author explored evidence from Norse mythos that the berserk and ulfsark of legend might have been Norse warriors suffering from PTSD. Of course, the legends we have are incomplete and mostly recorded through later Christian writers. But he made a compelling case.

Of course, a few places in the myths say or imply that berserk and ulfsark were shapeshiters. I had to put the two together.

Harald Shockhair is the historical Norse lead/strongman/conquerer who united Norway into a single kingdom in the 10th century CE. He did so through a combination of threats, bribes, and outright conquest, driving many of the lesser kings and chieftains into exile in England or Iceland. Eric the Bloodaxe was his son.

Snippets: Hiatus Week 2

Expelled

“Out.” That was all they said, and suddenly Danne found himself ejected from the only home he had anymore. He had gone to the headmaster, hoping to plead for another chance. But the door refused to admit him.

He hadn’t meant to blow up the alchemy classroom. It just…happened. Just like he hadn’t meant to frighten all the pegasi when it was his turn to groom them. Or turn all the food rancid while helping make dinner. And he definitely hadn’t meant to put invisibility powder in the laundry instead of soap. Who leaves invisibility powder sitting around the academy laundry room anyway?

It didn’t make any difference. After three years and five mishaps, they were done with him.

With nothing else to do, Danne wandered down the dirt road that ran past the academy. Sooner or later, he’d come to a town—though he seemed to remember it had been a long way from the last town to the academy when he came here. NMIMY– No Mages In My Yard—was the popular sentiment in Carolia. And given his own mishaps, Danne couldn’t exactly blame them. But he’d need somewhere to sleep for the night…

“Are you done wallowing yet?” a voice squeaked in his ear.

“I’m not wallowing!” The little fire demon had started following him around his first week at the academy—and for some reason never left.

“Sure, sure. Cheer up. I didn’t think we’d make it out of there alive. It’s a good day.”

Danne flicked the creature off his shoulder. A moment later, the scent of scorched hair told him it had reappeared on his head.

“Yup, clear sailing from here. Gotta say: I’m impressed you stuck it out that long. Most cadets don’t last six months after management decides to get rid of them.”

Griffon

Content note: bigotry

Strong wings beat the skies, adding swirling gusts to the winds buffeting the Empire State Building. Zach kept a firm grip on his hat as he dropped down off the griffon’s back and dashed inside. Sara shook her head and followed him at a less hectic pace. Of course, she had been smart enough not to wear a hat. “Same time next week?” she called over her shoulder.

“Ssssssssss…. No, an hour after sun-high.”

Sara waved acknowledgment and slipped inside. Zach was gone, must have grabbed the first elevator.

Ten minutes later, the elevator dinged and the doors opened. Sara stepped out of the way as a half dozen suits hurried past. The griffon skybus wasn’t due for another hour, so they probably had a charter.

Sara hopped on the elevator and selected the first-level basement. With a bit of luck, Zach would have continued being an impatient git, and she’d be able to catch a scooter back to the office.

Of course, Zach was waiting for her in the company’s two-seater mini-auto. “What took you so long? I could have been back by now!” Sara rolled her eyes. Her long legs barely fit in the mini’s passenger seat.

“And once again, that was an utter waste of time. Why do we have to keep flying out there? Sending a telegram would do more good.”

“The dragons only deal in person.” The cool glass of the window felt good against her forehead.

Zach put the mini in gear and hit the gas. Sara closed her eyes after they zipped past a support column with inches to spare. “It’s stupid. All the protocol and dancing around. Why can’t they just make a deal, like normal people.”

On cue, a spike drove through Sara’s left temple. “Zach, you need to shut up. Now.”

“What? You know I’m right. If the dragons, and griffons, and all the others would just get with the modern world, we could have wrapped this up months ago!”

“Or maybe they have reasons for doing things their way. If we’d ‘wrapped this up months ago,’ we’d spend decades sorting out the problems caused by a rushed deal.” Stupid, stupid. Don’t engage. She should have learned that by now.

“I’m just saying, all the back and forth-ing and what not is completely unnecessary. Half a day gone, for what? A minor change in a single sub-clause? Who cares?”

That “minor change” would finally cement an alliance between two rival dragon clans that threatened the entire multi-species alliance. Sara ran a hand over her forehead. Ridges, damn it.

“If you have a problem with it, take it up with Craig. I don’t want to hear any more.” What had Craig been thinking assigning Zach to this job? She had been asking herself that three times a day for three weeks and never found an answer.

“What crawled up your butt all of a sudden? I’m just saying what we’re both think–”

Sara whirled towards him and grabbed his shirt, her claws ripping through the expensive cotton blend. He slammed on the brakes, and the car spun out, stopping just short of a parked van. Sara was passed caring. “What you have been saying, every week since you were assigned to this negotiation, is that you are a human-centric bigot who has no business on this team. Your refusal to even attempt to understand the cultures you are dealing with is noted. Your resignation is accepted. Tell Craig the next assistant he assigns me better not need air piped in through his belly button.”

She opened the door and climbed out of the mini. Checked herself in the van’s mirror. Crap. Full scales, yellow eyes, the works. “And tell him I’ll be out the next few days.” It would take that long to get her human face back on.

Highwayman

Content note: guns, threat of violence

John listened to the fool in the bus seat in front of him and grinned.

“It’s highway robbery, I tell ya! What they expect me to pay just for keeping the lights on. I mean what do they think we are? Made of money?”

The man’s $1000 Rolex glittered as he waved his hands in the air, emphasizing his outrage.

Out of the corner of his eye, John saw Ned, three rows forward, signal.

He reached into his jacket and checked the holster. Ned got up and walked forward to speak with the driver. John stood up, nodded to Lucy in the back of the bus. The drive was being smart, pulling over to the side of the highway.

John drew his gun. “Ladies and gentlemen, please remain calm and no one will get hurt!”

Lucy started going up the aisle with a bag. “Just drop your valuables in the bag, and we’ll be out of your hair.”

John couldn’t help noticing the idiot with Rolex was clutching his watch. He leaned in and whispered to the man, “By the way, this is highway robbery. What your utility company is pulling is a monopoly. Which is way worse than what I’m doing to you now, you might want to write your congressman.”

Holy

Content note: religious content (Catholic)

“Holy, holy, holy.”

The ancient prayer rang out through the cathedral, nearly a thousand voices raised as one.

The sheer power of that much belief made the hair on Pal’s neck stand on end. He resisted the urge to shudder.

“Lord God almighty.”

All the sheep were focused on the alter and their Shepherd. They took no notice of him, standing by a chalk circle in an alcove that should have been filled with a saint’s statue and candles.

“Heaven and earth are filled with Your glory.”

With each verse, the power grew. Taking a deep breath, Pal scraped his foot across the drawn circle, breaking it. The tiny crystal talisman in the center reacted immediately. It drank down the power, gathering in all the belief, the faith, the power, the sheep had gathered to offer, in hopes the Shepherd would slaughter some other fools for Its meal.

No longer clear crystal, the talisman darkened. It gorged on power, and the power stained it a blue so dark it was black.

Pal ignored the rest of the prayer, absorbed in his casting. It finished as the last “Amen!” resounded through the ancient building.

Bending over, he scooped up the talisman. It was cool to the touch but heavy. Weighed down with the prayers and hopes and fears of all the people who had filled it.

Pocketing his trophy, Pal quietly slipped out of the cathedral. He knew a demon who would pay good money for a nice catch of faith.

Perplexed

Content note: Assault

Marie’s eyes narrowed as she saw Paul and a strange woman laughing and holding hands outside the movie theater. She stormed up to them and slapped him. Hard.

“What the hell!” Hand to his face, he growled at her, “Marie, what is your fucking problem.”

“Fuck you,” she said, “Fuck you and the horse you rode in on. My sister is marrying you next week, and you have the fucking balls to be out at the movies making kissy noises with someone else?”

The woman beside him suddenly started laughing. After a moment, Paul joined her.

“What’s so funny,” Marie demanded.

“Ah…” Paul’s laughing trailed off, “You know, I was sure this was gonna bite me in the ass, but I’m not allowed to tell you.” He shrugged a bit uncomfortably. “Call your sister, and she’ll explain.”

And they just started walking off. Marie stared after them in shock.

After a moment, she pulled out her cellphone, speed-dialed her sister, “Sis, I’m really, really sorry, but I gotta tell you. I think you need to call off the wedding. Paul is cheating on you… Yeah, yeah, I’m sure. I saw him coming out of the movie theater making kissy-face with some stranger… you mean you knew about her?… I… yeah, I guess we can talk later… I interrupted your DATE- but Paul was just… your boyfriend… BUT YOU’RE GETTING MARRIED!”


These pieces are mostly from a Second Life writing group I was in nearly 10 years ago. We got together once a day to write for fifteen minutes on a single word prompt. A good chunk of those prompts became scenes in The Bargain. But quite a few were just random brain firings that I’ve somehow managed to hold onto.