章 83: Meeting with the Griffin
7 Birke 1208
It has been two years since Saibus explored the Aen Undod ruin with Maryanne and met her mother. After that, the ruin followed the same fate as the World Tree Hall. It collapsed under the order of the Council of Elders. As a result, the World Tree has no physical connection to the Continent. This does not materially affect it, but it does prevent descendants of the cleric Aen Undod from using its power.
Saibus has become a member of the Council. He replaces Lars, who retired from the Elders and spent time instructing young novices with his vast knowledge gained from decades of living and traveling. Saibus has taken the code name of Demon for his stealth, assassination skills, and magic. He is on his first mission as an Elder.
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Cintra, one of the northern kingdoms west of Sodden, Riverdell. It is cut off from the rest of the northern kingdoms by the great river Iaruga, unlike Sodden, which has territories to the north and south of the river. To the north are Vergen and Bruges, while to the south is the rocky and arid kingdom of Nazair.
Formerly an elven city named Xin'trea, Cintra was built on its ruins after the humans expanded eastward about five hundred years ago and the elves abandoned the city.
The current king of Cintra is Corbett, son of King Coram II and Queen Fiona of Temeria. The kingdom is an ally of Kaedwen because the queen is Elen of Kaedwen, the princess and, therefore, daughter of King Benda. Both have a son, Prince Dagorad, who is ten years old.
King Corbett took the throne in 1198 at 18 when his father died from injuries sustained at a knights' tournament. His reign is considered a very bad period in the history of Cintra, and many foreign songs and pamphlets called him a repulsive man and a murderer. He neglected foreign policies and the government in favor of feminization and drunkenness. In addition to this, corruption spreads, and officials steal money while disgruntled people are sent to prison, killed, or exiled.
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Saibus POV
Cintra is truly a sublime city, full of wealth. Although I prefer Novigrad, Cintra has a certain charm,' I thought as I walked through the market square of the working-class neighborhoods.
I stroll around, glancing at the goods displayed on the stalls. I observe the people around me and finally notice a person who intrigues me. The person is a young woman with long black hair. Pale skin, scarlet eyes. Her ethereal beauty is sublimated by her jewels, necklaces, earrings, and bracelets. Her body, although voluptuous, is thin. Her curves are hidden under her loose dress, but this does not work properly. On the contrary, her dress gives her extra charm and attraction. Saibus can smell that she is wearing perfume made of orange.
The woman talks to a merchant who sells birds. She takes out some ducats to buy a parakeet. The merchant takes the ducats and gives her the cage that contains the parakeet. The woman takes the cage and opens it, surprising the merchant.
Against all expectations, the parakeet does not fly away but lands on the finger that the woman presents to him. The woman rubs the head of the parakeet and whispers some things to it in a language that is unknown to me. The parakeet then flies away. It flies into the market to fly over the woman. The woman then leaves the market towards the noble district, with her parakeet flying above her head.
Taking a few moments to recover from the beautiful woman, I stroll in the market for two hours. After those two hours where I just enjoyed my time, I headed to the "Sanglier Gourmand" inn.
"Good morning, sir. I'll take a room with a hot bath and dinner," I declared to the tavern keeper.
"You're in luck. I only have one room left with a bath. The room plus dinner will be 24 ducats," said the tavern keeper, taking a key from behind him.
I take eight crowns out of my purse and give them to the innkeeper. "Here, with the exchange rate, you have 24 Ducat."
The innkeeper takes them and bites them. "Well, these are real Crowns. At least you're not trying to rip me off. Unlike those brigands." the innkeeper declares vehemently.
I say nothing to the innkeeper's statement. I take the key and go up to my room. The room is simple, a wardrobe, a double bed, and a window with a view of the noble quarter and the king's castle. The bath is in the room behind a long screen.
I sit on my bed and look at the view through the opening. I get lost in the view, and my thoughts are deep enough to bring me back to reality with a knock on my door.
"Lord, I bring you water for your bath." A soft, feminine voice is heard behind the door. I get up, walk to the door and open it.
In front of me is a servant girl. The maid is a mature, aging woman. Her black hair is interspersed with gray hair. Her face has a few wrinkles that add a mature edge to her beauty. The woman is not very beautiful, but she remains a woman with a certain beauty. She wears the inn's servant's outfit, a long brown dress with a white apron.
In her arms is a big water basin from which steam is coming. I let her enter. She walks slowly towards the tub so as not to spill any water. She kneels carefully. She pours the water from the basin into the wooden tub. The water pours out, darkening the wood of the tub. Meanwhile, I walk over to my bed and sit on it.
The water takes no more than three minutes to pour. The maid gets up after completing her task. She takes the basin with both hands and places it under her right arm.
"Your bath is ready, sir. You will find soap in the cupboard. Before I leave, is there anything else you would like?" The woman takes on a soft, seductive voice. She pushes her hips forward and stands straight. The basin under her arm brings her breasts up, bringing them forward.
"No, that will be all. You can leave and take care of your other customers," answering her with a tone indicating that my decision was not to be discussed.
"Well, sir." She bows her head and exits the room. Once she is out, I approach the door and lock it with my magic.
"Well, it's time to relax," I say. I take off my outfit, place it on my bed, and step into the hot water. I bask in the warm bath. Not thinking about my job as an assassin, I wash in the tub before staying in it for the next fifteen minutes to relax.
I finally get up, dry off and get dressed. I then leave my room. I venture out into the hallway. Passing a door, I hear the voice of the maid moaning and doing her job properly.
I go down to the dining room and sit alone in the corner. A waiter approaches and comes to bring me my dinner. A sauerkraut. A good dish for dinner,' I thought.
I am calmly enjoying my meal when armed people in leather armor enter the inn. The group comprises about ten men, ranging in age from twenty to forty years for the chief.
All of them wear brigandines over their gambison. Some of them, including the chief, wear Spangenhelm, while others have only a reinforced weave chaperone. At their hip, a cheap steel sword is sheathed in its scabbard.
The one who appears to be the leader approaches the innkeeper and throws a purse on the counter. The purse tips over as it lands, causing a score of Ducat to spill onto the counter.
"Here's for our tab and the week. Get us some drinks and food. We're going to have a good time here." the chef says with an evil smile as he looks at one of the waitresses serving food to the travelers.
The innkeeper takes the Ducat and bites into it. "Fine, but you should know I'll call the guard to kick you out at the slightest incident."
"Of course, we'll be as good as virgins," laughs the chief as he takes a table for himself and his boys.
"Fucking brigands." mutters the landlord as he checks the rooms.
The men have settled down and are minding their own business while I mind mine. I quietly finish my sauerkraut, take a beer bottle, and sip it.
During this time, the men become noisier and noisier and disturb the other customers. The chef then goes after the waitress he was looking at, taking her by the arm and making her sit on his lap. She struggles, and the man laughs.
"Drop her, or I'll call the guard!" The tavern keeper yells from the counter as he stares dangerously at the chef.
"Ah ah ah, there is nothing for the guard to worry about in this establishment. She and I are just having fun. Isn't that pretty." The chef strokes the cheek of the waitress with a laugh.
The waitress fights back and slaps his cheek, reddening it. The chef loses his laughter and turns red with rage.
"You want to play that? Well, we'll play." The chef gets up and throws the waitress on the table. The tavernkeeper tells an employee to fetch the guard as he pulls a sword from behind the counter and rushes into the dining room.
The man is about to punch the waitress again when I see a white-haired figure rush up behind the chef and kick him hard in the knee.
"AAAAHHH." The chief let out a cry of pain and collapses to the ground. The force of the blow was such that his bone came out of his knee. The man will probably never walk again, ending his career as a brigand and his life. Who would take care of a cripple for life? Even if he gets treatment, his leg will never be as strong as before.
Everyone in the inn is stunned by the situation and does not react. Except for the waitress, who gets up and runs to the kitchens for shelter.
"Well, I don't like to be violent, but I like even fewer people like you who take advantage of others because of their weaknesses. Your kind who puts people down when they meet someone stronger than them. Too bad for you, that day is now." says the person behind the leader.
"YOU'RE GOING TO PAY FOR THIS, BITCH. WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR TO KILL HER." the leader roars as he sees his men sitting stupidly. At their leader's shout, they stand up and draw their swords.
"Alright, tavern keeper, sorry for the chores I'm doing." the person, identified now as a woman, speaks to the tavern keeper before pulling out her steel sword. The woman is tall, standing at six feet tall. She has long white and gray hair flowing down her shoulders and back. She has a braid wrapped around her head like a crown where you can see that her roots are black. She wears leather armor with spikes.
The woman does not give the first soldier time to draw his sword. She cuts him straight across his torso, cutting the poor man half horizontally. She moves to the right side of the table with her unsynchronized footwork disturbing the men. As she moves, she crushes the hand of the leader, who screams at the top of his lungs.
"BITCH, MALEPUSSY."
The frontmost man on the right makes a vertical cut but to no avail. His cut lacks strength, marking his experience and rather a weak condition. The woman steps to the side and makes a thrust that pierces his heart. She then pushes the corpse onto her sword with a violent kick that throws him onto his colleague behind.
One of the soldiers on the left goes over the table to tackle her to the ground with his sword in front. The woman leans back, showing her flexibility, and cuts the torso of the man passing over her. The man falls to the ground, inert.
The bloodstained woman does backward acrobatics to get back on her feet and away from the men. She holds a high guard. Her six opponents do not wait and attack her. Although they are well drunk and grouped.
The first one rushes at her and makes a thrusting attack. The woman undertakes an iron grip and comes to clear the blow on the side. She uses her superior speed and agility to cut the man's hand.
"AAAAHHH." The latter falls to the ground with his sword. He holds his stump with his last hand. Blood begins to well up in the area. The iron smell of blood follows this.
The next man gives a horizontal cut. The woman ducks down a few heads and kicks the man in the stomach, causing him to fall to the ground. Another attack comes from behind the man on the ground. The attack is a vertical slice. The woman uses her unique footwork to throw the opponent off balance and make him miss his cut. She takes advantage of this to cut off his head, which flies and lands in front of the chief with a thud.
The four other soldiers, being the farthest away, take one more second to get within sword range of the woman. Leaving her the opportunity to execute them. The woman gives a powerful kick to the hand cut on the ground. The hand is propelled toward a soldier, who takes it in the face. It hurts him a little and disturbs him.
The kick is accompanied by a vigorous push forward. The woman twirls between the sword blows of the three soldiers. She passes in the center and slices the shoulders of a soldier on her way. The soldier sliced through the shoulders falls onto an empty table next to her in pain.
Her spinning made his long ashen hair fly, blinding one of the last two soldiers. While others and part of the crowd, including me, saw a stolen medallion around the woman's neck. A medallion of a dangerous, bestial, and majestic creature.
The soldier following the woman with his eyes tries to strike her with a thrust, but she uses her colleague as a shield. The soldier's sword pierces the carotid artery of his brother-in-arms. The man collapses on the ground with gurgling sounds of his blood. The brigand who took his hand from his face has thrown him to the ground. Enraged, he lets out a roar and throws himself at the sorceress now in front of him.
The woman draws and sword and retaliates. Her sword sinks into his chest and comes out in his back. The woman holds the pommel fiercely and comes with her legs to give a blow on the ground. She twirls around, cutting the man in half and ending up behind him, still in her high guard.
The last man of the group of men does not dare to approach to finish in the same state as his fellow members. The woman then takes the initiative. She plays with her footwork to move quickly on the man's left side. She wants to strike another blow to his left. The man sees it. He puts his sword across her game to parry her blade with his own. Unfortunately for him, it is not the attention of the woman who smiles at him. She forces her left leg to counter his rotation and turn the other way. Thanks to her strength and agility, her rotation to the right becomes a rotation to the left. The man falls into the woman's feint, which neatly slices his head.
His head flies in the air and collapses with a thud. A noise chained by a silence of death. The crash of the doors broke the silence. Having just arrived, the guards enter the inn and contemplate the spectacle offered to them.
The sight of a woman with ashen hair. Holding a sword with blood dripping on the floor. Blood splatters on her armor, on the tables and chairs. Triples on the floor, heads, and a hand cut off. Men groan on the floor. Some cursed the woman, some called for help, and some prayed to God to save him from a demon. The stench took them by the nostrils, the sight making them vomit.
And in the middle of this scarlet field, she stands proudly, medallion out, looking at the guards with piercing yellow eyes. A dreamy, thinking expression on her face.
A beautiful view
(Female image)
AN:
I thank ArtoriasPendragon for allowing me to use her creation in my story.
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