The Conjured and the exiles

It was getting dark by the time they had got back a sure sign winter was on its way Veoine thought as he watched the lamp lighter kindle the street lights dispelling some of the evenings gloom. Once the mare was stowed safely away in a stable it seemed that Daen remembered something she had been meaning to ask Veoine something he had hoped that she had forgoten. ‘Veoine did you manage to get that letter to my brother?’

‘Letter? Oh yes, yes I managed to get that letter to him.’ Veoine looked the dark haired woman up and down searching for any sign of discomfort, she had to have put some form of entreaty in that letter, but the only expression she wore was expectant anticipation. Humorously exasperated he asked. ‘Filly just what did you put in that letter?’

The young woman’s flying brows rose in surprise at the mocking accusation. ‘What did I put in the letter? Not much just that I was safe and here I didn’t want to alarm him. Why, did something happen?’

‘You could say that.’ Veoine looked sheepishly away and coughed. The young woman’s green eyes leveled on him and her expression reminded the captain of his masters when Darcia caught him out in a lie. Veoine weighed up how much he should tell the girl. ‘He came here with a friend the other night. Apparently they were trying to rescue you. I told them you went here but I would take a message, there was a fight and they lost…’

‘Did you hurt him?’ Her voice was soft threatening in a way that made him almost shiver.

‘Nothing permanent.’ He answered. The girl’s eyes flashed and he quickly tried to explain himself before he angered her any further. ‘He wouldn’t surrender. I had to stop him some how otherwise he would have forced me to kill him. If it had been anyone else they would not have let him go!’


‘Dam she can look scary.’ Veoine thought to himself trapped by the woman’s dark glare. But like a passing cloud her face lightened.

‘That sounds like Leoff.’ She half laughed half sighed, her expression mildly forlorn. ‘He can be such an idiot sometimes I’m always trying to keep him out of trouble and he always goes and dose it anyway.’

‘Young men are like that.’ Veoine replied remembering the young man on the roof top. ‘I know I was like that when I was his age, I didn’t listen to anybody.’

‘How was he?’

‘Well from what I can tell he was in grate health up until….’ Veoine trailed off noticing the girls warning look. He let out a nervous laugh and scratched the back of his head apologetically. ‘Don’t worry he will be fine. It was nothing but a flesh wound. I think I stung his pride more than anything.’

‘That’s good to know. But I’m concerned that he will try again, and lord Darcia…. Veoine does lord Darcia know about this?’ the girl suddenly seemed anxious.

The captain understood completely Darcia could be a mean son of a bitch when the mood took him, and he would be furious if he thought that someone was trying to steal back Filly. If it had been Darcia had been home then who knows what might have happened.’ No, and I have no intention of telling him.’

‘Thank you.’ She replied solemnly.

‘Filly I wouldn’t worry too much.’ Veoine smiled ruffling her hair. ‘ Leave another letter, tomorrow we will be heading for Bala and your brother will still be in no state to follow us so Darcia will never find out.’

‘Veoine I thought you said it was a flesh wound?’

Veoine had been soundly thumped by the protective sister. But he was soundly forgiven at the same time soon after before she asked him for Leoff’s address so that she could send her brother a letter. The blond man had looked suspiciously at the girl Filly looked like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, which if he knew females was a sure sign of trouble. Still what was the worst that a letter could do, the boy would still be in no state to attempt another daring rescue. Veoine narrowed his eyes but scribbled out the asked for information.

‘Are you coming?’ Veoine asked turning to leave the stalls.

‘Oh, in a minuet I want to spend a bit more time with the horse first.’ She called back at him as she picked up a grooming box.

‘Suit yourself.’ He shrugged, girls and horses. Still it was nice to see that the skittish filly was settling in so well.

The captain enjoying his time off spent some time lounging around the tower doing a lot of not a lot until Lord Darcia called him in to confirm some figures. They talked strictly business; Darcia was never one to be distracted from the job in hand. But it grew late, and the legers were once more in order he pushed them aside. Lord Darcia stretched and pushed back his long black hair from his brow with one hand. ‘So has she fond a suitable horse?’

Veoine lent back in his chair and chuckled. ‘More like the most unsuitable horse.’

Darcia let out a short low rumble of laughter. ‘Let me guess, a just broken warhorse stallion?’

‘Worse.’ Veoine sighed. ‘You won’t believe me until you see it. It’s a hairy little mare with the temper of a pig.’

‘No, Veoine you’re teasing me, you would never allow such an animal in my stables.’

The captain held up a finger ‘Oh it gets worse. It has no mouth and no sides…’

Darcia’s brows raised slowly, his sardonic lip curling in amusement. ‘And she made you buy this er…paragon of horse flesh Veoine?’

Veoine laughed, it was well know how particular he was about his choice in horse flesh, and Darcia was enjoying giving him a good ribbing, but Veoine was not to be out done. ‘Oh and it’s a unicorn.’

‘A unicorn now that I don’t believe.’

‘It’s a horse with a horn. That in my book is a unicorn.’

Darcia chuckled again. ‘I would like to see it in that case.’

‘Good.’ Veoine grimaced. ‘Then you can tell Dae just what you think of her overgrown mountain pony. She won’t listen to me.’

‘I would like to see her tonight, I wanted to see how her studies were going, could you go get someone to fetch her for me?’

Veoine got up languidly and left. But soon he realized much to his growing horror that the girl was no where to be found. She was not her room or the bath. He wondered if she was still with her horse, but no she was not there either. She had gone again, and Veoine had a good idea as to where. More calmly than he felt Veoine took on the duty of telling his lord that his most prized possession had escaped again. Darcia looked up at his second at his entrance wondering what was taking so long.

‘Dae’s gone again.’

Darcia’s one eyebrow twitched slightly. And his eyes went from blue to palest silver. ‘Where is she?’ He asked his voice suspectly soft and steady. Veoine broke out in a cold sweat he knew Darcia better than anyone, and right now his lord was furious.

‘Arena.’

Without saying a word Darcia stood and walked to his room to fetch his mask, cloak, gloves and riding crop.


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Daen had been grooming the mare when doubts began to assail her she needed to see her brother just once to see that he was alright for herself. If she knew her brother he would never give up looking for her, and with Darcia determined to keep her Leoff was likely to get killed in the attempt. Veoine thought that he had scared him off, but she knew Leoff better than he. Leoff would keep trying unless she some how managed to convince him that she was happy where she was. Daen hated to lie to him, but it would be for his own good, she had to commit the lesser evil for the grater good. However they were going to Bala in the morning so there was very little time to achieve this. But no one would miss her if she just slipped out for half an hour or so.

The evening seemed warmer than the day, a layer of thick cloud blocking out the stars and traping warmth like a blanket over the drowsy city. Spires was windy, the tall buildings funneling icy winds down to race through the streets, but once Daen reached Arena it was a good deal warmer if only because of the tightly packed buildings and the press of people seeking out entertainment in the limbo hours between midnight and sun up. If there was one aria in the city that could be said to never sleep then it was Arena, as even after the official fights ended there was still entertainment to be had, taverns, gaming hells, street brawls (usually caused by a combination of the previous two), and then there were the brothels as well as the women who walked the streets.

Daen didn’t know her way around arena very well, she knew that Leoff’s school was not far from Dockside, and so was essentially the other side of the district from her. The marble arenas were quiet now there spectators were long gone she looked up at the colossal coliseum; it stood empty and still like a grate temple to the gods of war. But as she moved through the district the streets narrowed, and the buildings looked more and more unkempt. There were people here and there in the street but they kept to themselves; every so often there would be a building whose lights spilled out on to the streets, the muffled sound of shouts, laughter and humanity from within. But Daen passed them by nothing more than a fleeting shadow.

A large complex of buildings loomed above her, tall and dark against the sky line. It felt like walking in to a cave, as the street lamps set in to the course gray walls seemed to only deepen the gloom and not alleviate it. Daen felt a spasm of fear; conman sense told her that this was not a place for a young woman to be alone late at night. But holding up her head a bit higher, and walking a bit more briskly she pressed on determined to get to Leoff.

Daen could smell blood, rot, and fear. Echoing off the wall the faint sound of a woman crying came to her ears. She glanced down one of the deep drains, and far below human forms huddled against water wet walls, chained together in the dark. all around her was a mournfill howling that even her spirit guide could not entirely block out ‘This is a bad place.’ She thought to herself but could do nothing about it and so kept walking, taking care not to look down any more of the dark openings. The Fleshworks, she shivered now able to put the name to the place, that was where she could have ended up if Darcia had not brought her she suddenly felt just a grain of gratitude towards him.

The street suddenly opened up in to a wide court yard, the Flesh works entrances forming a sort of horse shoe around it. The court yard was empty, a few bits of fabric and box like structures indicated where stages and food vendors would set up earlier in the earning. Right now in the long hours of deepest night they were all long abed. But the taverns in the streets that filtered off the square seemed to be doing lively business. After the unsettling silence of the Fleshworks, the laughter of drunks, and the calls of street women was welcome.

Only four more streets to go, then one left and I should be there, Daen thought clutching the piece of paper in her hand like grim death. She turned down a quieter street trying to avid the press of people and the groping hands of men as they passed. She realized her mistake, as emerging from a small arena entrance was a handful of men still talking excitedly about the fight they had just seen within.. Two of which were masked nobles. For a dread moment she thought it was Darcia, but she quickly saw that there shoulders war not as broad and they were not nearly as tall.

‘Hmm, now who’s this pretty, pretty? One masked noble drawled. Daen on spotting them had a sudden bad feeling. All her instincts told her they were dangerous. She now looked behind her ready to turn and flee but as she began to run one of the men said in clipped tones ‘Catch her.’ Before she was tripped one of the men’s walking stick. She managed to retain her balance enough so that she was only sent careering in to the wall and not the floor. But it was enough time for the two men without masks to catch hold of her, and although wriggling like a weasel they dragged her back to their masters laughing at her predicament and making comments along the lines of spirited little puss, and feisty bitch.

‘Don’t worry the master just wants to talk to you.’

Set to her feet again she shrugged off the other men’s hands angrily, the taller noble came forward and lifted her chin. ‘I haven’t seen you around hear before. You’re not my usual style but I will take you tonight how much?’

‘How much?’ Daen reputed aghast.

‘Don’t make me repeat myself.’ The man said in his lisping accents. ‘I do hate stupid whores.’

Daen slapped the man hard, sending his mask skidding across the floor. The man was middle-aged, his face lean and not repulsive, but his mouth was mean. The man slapped her back, knocking her to the floor. ‘Bitch,’ He growled and dragged her back to her feet by her hair. Roughly he pulled off her cloak as Daen renewed her struggles.

‘You’re not a whore?’ he stated seeing the obviously well made and sensible clothing that had now been reveled.

‘No.’ she replied, hoping that he would now let her go.

‘Good it’s nice to have something different.’ The man smirked, as he forced her back against the wall.

‘Terent, do you have to do this here?’ The other noble sighed. ‘I would quite like to get home.’

‘Then go, no one said you had to watch Salford.’

‘Get off me you bastard!’ Daen tried to scream but the man now had her by the throat choking off her air. His free hand now was roughly trying to pull down her leggings.

‘I will stay.’ Sighed Salford wearily.

‘Always knew you were a sick fuck Salford.’ Panted the other man as his hand brushed against her bare skin and she felt disgusted.

‘I’m just watching, you’re the one who is trying to rape the wench.’

Looking down she saw that he had already freed his erection, and she redoubled her struggles despite the fact that her eyesight was beginning to go black around the edges and her lungs burned with strain she tried to kick him away. The other men were laughing again asking if they could have her after. With claws teeth and anything else she could manage she fought off the man, with varying success, but starved for more than the most merger gasp of air she was beginning to black out and her defense was becoming less and less effective.

There was a sudden loud crack. It was the sound of a long lashed whip recoiling. The man who was holding her suddenly let go with a cry of anguish, and she slipped to the floor. Everything went black for a moment. And then blinking she managed to blurrily focus on the scene around her. The want to be rapist was clutching his cheek, blood dripping through his hands where the whip had lashed his face. Drip, drip, drip to the floor, for a moment she was fascinated by the red liquid pooling on the fitly ground. The two serving men had been sent flying across the street, one had yet to get up and he lay sprawled face down on the floor.

Slumped against the wall, Daen turned her head stiffly and saw a familiar dark figure, menacingly holding the whip. ‘Let her go Terent.’ Lord Darcia her dark protecter. Her relief was a physical thing.

The whipped man rounded on her lord. ‘What has this got to do with you lord Darcia? Who are you to meddle?’

‘She belongs to me.’ Darcia bit out.

‘What this slut?’ The man spat, pointing at her. ‘Ha, and you think that bitch is worth you horse whipping another noble my father will see you….?’

‘Be thankful I didn’t kill you Sir Edouard.’ Darcia interrupted his voice as cold as ice. ‘I’m sure you have heard of what happens to those who meddle with what is mine.’

Sir Edouard blanched, and then began to redo the laces on his breeches muttering, 'How was i suposed to know she was yours...'

‘Lord Darcia I’m surprised I have to say this to you, but you should keep a tighter leash on your servants that way this kind of unpleasantness can be avoided.’ The other masked man said simply.

‘She is new and yet to be tamed.’ It was Veoine’s voice. But all the usual humour was gone from it. Daen looked at him standing next to Darcia he suddenly looked like a different person completely, someone who was used to been obeyed, someone who had seen death and knew how to be cruel. ‘And skulking around in the dark like that we could hardly be blamed for not knowing it was you.’

‘Forgiven on all accounts then?’ Salford said looking back and forth at Darcia and sir Edouard. Edouard was still angry but obviously cowered by the presence of Darcia he nodded. Darcia didn’t move but in a low voice called to Daen. ‘Dae, come here.’

On shaky legs Daen tried to get to her feet. Her first attempt failed miserably and she fell down. Neither Darcia nor Veoine moved to help her. Her heart sank and she realized that these were not the two men she knew, it was a noble lord and his second, and she was an errant servant. Stealing herself she managed by using the wall for support to make her way over to her dark lord and his captain. She looked uncertainly up at their faces, but neither man looked her way.

Salford was twiddling his silver toped cane his voice that lazy drawl that the nobles so often adopted. ‘Ah you just can’t get the help these days. I expect the wench was running off to see a boyfriend.’ He moved closer when Darcia didn’t appear hostile to study her better, using a pair of quisling glasses. But Darcia with a painfully hard grip that made her cry out dragged her over the stand between Veoine and himself. Veoine clasped her shoulder firmly; a slight squeeze let her know that he was still the Veoine she knew.

‘Unusual looking girl isn’t she.’ Salford commented to a sulky sir Edouard. ‘I can’t ever fault you for taste Darcia.’

Edouard his hand still on his wounded cheek seemed to have recovered his backbone, fear replaced by spite. ‘You should punish her Darcia. After all if she hadn’t been out then this would not have happened, this will probably scar.’

‘How is it my fault that you tried to rape me you basterd? I hope it does scar.’ Daen croaked hoarsely unable to contain herself her voice echoed in the street, drawing everyone’s attention to her.

Darcia whipped around. “Silence Dae!”

Veoine’s quick grip on her shoulder told he that was the wrong thing to have said. As did the nearly non perceptible worry in Darcia’s voice. But the damage had been done. She herd Darcia’s soft sigh and watched as his hand tightened on the whip.

“Your Bitch needs taming, Darcia,” Edouard demanded his hands crossed on his chest.

For a servant to insult a noble was unthinkable. And Salford watched to see how Lord Darcia would handle the situation. There had been some interesting rumors regarding Darcia’s newest acquisition, a beautiful Nhemian woman, who he seemed to be spending a grate deal of his time with. Had heartless Darcia fallen for such a chit? No there had to be another reason.

‘Dae against the wall.’ Lord Darcia sighed. The full impact of what was about to happen suddenly hit Daen and trying not to tremble she positioned herself. Darcia held out his hand, swapping the bull whip for his own riding crop that Veoine had been holding for him turning to Edouard he asked “What will satisfy you?”

“Ten strikes on exposed flesh.”

Ten strikes. And exposed. It was a harsh punishment and yet Lord Darcia knew it was completely within the realm of acceptable punishment given the girl's behavior. Honestly he had intended to give her good whiping when he caught up with her earlier. Those thoughts had fled the moment that he had seen her struggling in the arms of another man. He had not been lying sir Edouard was very fortunate that Veoine had stopped him from simply drawing out Bherith and slaughtering the lot of them right then and there for touching his Dae in such a way.

The little witch had a talent for trouble; she could have got away with it if she had just kept that tongue still. Not to honor an offended party’s decision for punishment it wasn’t even an option his very reputation as a noble was at stake. But already traumatized by the attempted rape, now she was going to be publicly humiliated and tortured in front of the same men his heart went out to her. But that could not save her from his punishment.

“Dae!” he said coolly. “For your audacity to speak without leave, and to insult a member of the Imperium you will be whipped ten times.’

Unwilling to let anyone else touch her Darcia came forward to take off her tunic. He heard her broken voice barely audible. ‘Please don’t take off my top I don’t what any one to see…..’

Darcia decided he could legitimately grant her this small thing; indeed he didn’t want these sick twisted bastards to see any more of her than necessary. So he just pulled her leggings down, leaving on her underwear and pulling up her tunic only enough to reveal her round globes and strong shapely thighs.

Even with this boon, Daen was cursing her own stupidity, at least they didnt get to see the scars on her back,it was going to be humiliating but they didnt get to see her most private shame but her humiliation was short-lived. ‘Count.’ Darcia ordered when the first whip strike hit her bottom she was overcome with agonizing pain, crying out in a voice so piercing that people in the streets near by could hear. ‘One.’

‘Two.’

‘Three.’

‘F…F..Four.’

Veoine watched with pity, though he schooled his face to impassivity. The two nobles watched with approval at the way lord Darcia gave not an inch though she was but a wench his arm whipped back with firm purpose, striking the pretty creature with unrestrained force, the red welts already forming on the woman’s previously unmarred skin. Her cries of anguish were heavenly to the ears of Edouard.

‘Five.’ She gasped, sobbing now.

‘S…si…s…ixsssss”

“Sssssssseven.”

‘Eight, aughhhh. Oh it hurts, it hurts!’

Darcia desperately wanted to end the punishment and gather her in to his arms. Guilt was added to his list of agonies as he had been thinking of inflicting this sort of punishment not long before once they were back in private. But not like this, never like this. And so when strike after strike elicited heart wrenching cries from his beloved little witch who could barely stand he cursed himself. It’s true what they say be careful what you wish for.

‘Nnnine.’

‘Ten.’

Those ten or twenty seconds felt like an eternity. Daen was beyond agony; her skin burned her eye sight was darkening again as her body sought to pass out, but she would not give them the satisfaction. Gritting her teeth she remained standing through shear force of will.

‘Satisfied?’ Darcia asked the men behind him, panting slightly from exertion and fury; furious that he was forced to harm Dae in this way. Salford wasn’t sure what to make of it, But then Darcia always did play with a close hand.

Sir Edouard nodded grudgingly, his eyes wide, cheeks flushed and erection back from what he had just seen. ‘I would have preferred to have administered the discipline myself.’ Darcia flashed him a look that was nothing short of terrible. He licked his lips and looked at Darcia calculatingly. ‘How much did you pay for her I will double it?’

‘Get out of my sight.’ Darcia growled.

When at last the other men had left Daen fell to her knees, hands on the floor, panting, and shaking all over. She was unable to even pull up her leggings and was so absorbed in managing her own pain that she didn’t notice that Darcia helped her with this. She became aware of her master’s voice, but could not understand what he said as she lent in to him. Gradually her senses started to return to her and she realized that Darcia was gently nuzzling her forehead, wiping away tears she didn’t know that she had been shedding.

‘Dae. It’s over. Get up and we will go home.’

‘I can’t…’ She sobbed.

‘Ok, its ok little one.’ He whispered and scooped her up gently. already the pain was starting to dissipate but free from that Daen’s mind could then think on the humiliation and horror of the evening.

Darcia carried the poor traumatized girl back to Spires. He carried her right to her room, and checked the damage he had done to her. His guilt increasing ten found when he saw the red raised welts on her backside and thighs. He fetched some healing slave for on them and gave her a spoon full of poppy syrup. Numb still Daen accepted his ministrations without argument or comet. ‘There’s blood on my sheet.’ She murmured looking at the red spots; she looked up at the man in front of her. ‘That’s my blood isn’t it?’

He nodded. Something seemed to snap within her.

‘You whipped me! You whipped me in front of those men! The men who almost raped me! You whipped me until I bled, why? Why did you do that to me’ She said her voice razing to a hysterical shout, her small hands pummeling his chest her face contorting in pain and anger.

Darcia caught hold of her clutching her closely as she continued to rail against him. For a few panic filled moments he thought that the girl had been driven entirely out of her mind. Eventually she calmed down within his grasp, simply hanging limp pressed close to his body. She realized he had been murmuring ‘I’m sorry.’ Over and over like a mantra.

‘Why.’ She sobbed in to his chest.

‘I had to; it’s just the way the world works.’

'I hate this world, and i hate you.' She siad as she turned her face in to his chest.

'I know.' he sighed.