Sorem stood frozen in shock. It was a miracle no one heard his scream. But he still screamed, even now. He screamed, he cried out.

That filthy hunchback, still looming over this beautiful princess, trying to act modest and just.

“I do not think it wise to take you in the open like this,” he insisted. “Home is not far.”

“I cannot wait that long. It’s been days.”

The hunchback scanned her bare upper body then groaned. “All right. But if someone finds us….”

Sorem’s heart broke with each languished kiss they shared. It was slow at first, then deeper. Somehow, he felt cheated.

A beautiful princess deserved a beautiful prince. A prince such as he.

This was his right. It should have been him pinching her pink nipples while sucking on the other. It should have been his hair she ran her fingers through, showing her appreciation with a deep moan. It should have been him being begged, “Your mouth, husband, please,” as she rooted up her dress.

“You need not make demands,” he said, lips against her left knee, “I’ll gladly accommodate.”

And he did, spreading her legs wide and pressing his mouth to her.

Sorem’s body blushed.

Was that how the hunchback subdued and charmed her? No. No. No. This was something else. This…this was magic. It had to be magic. The valley was under a spell, the Jvalan had said, maybe…perhaps the princess was, too.

She was certainly vocal in her appreciation of the hunchback’s effort.

That filthy hunchback.

“Turn this way,” Vadde begged, gasping, “so that I can appreciate you in kind.”

He paused long enough to whisper, “Later. But for now, let’s hurry before an animal happens upon us.

When he knelt and began undoing his trousers, Sorem gripped the dagger tighter.

The princess was good enough to humor him. Her beautiful laugh even sounded genuine when she teased, “We happen upon animals coupling all the time. Maybe now it’s our turn.”

His laugh was true and stopped when he brought his member against her and met his mark. They both let out a shout for which Sorem died inside.

All feeling drained from Sorem’s body as he bore witness to this crime…this crime against justice and decency.

When the hunchback held her bosom, rubbing her breast as he took her with vigor, Sorem bit back a sob.

“This is not happening. She’s…surely, she’s protesting.”

But Vadde ran her hand up the hunchback’s surprisingly muscled form, begging, “Harder.”

“But it hurts when I go to the hilt. You’ve said.”

Sorem gritted his teeth. “You lying, pompous….”

Vadde answered with a moan as she pulled him in for a kiss. “It does but I want it to hurt a little today. To remind me even after we’re done.”

The next thrust was firm and her cry true.

“Stop this,” Sorem whispered. “Stop. Stop. Stop!”

Something came over him and he gripped the knife and decided to charge. He’d rescue her from this terrible spell, and forthwith.

To his amazement and shock, he couldn’t move. “What?” One glance down at the Jvalan showed her watching him. “What have you done?”

“What have you done? Calm yourself,” the Jvalan said. “It’s only temporary. Until you calm. Calm. Now.”

But how could he with Vadde’s cries of anguish and desperation? The hunchback let out a shout and all stilled.

Sorem fought back the urge to vomit.

Each groan that monster gave off as he continued his idle thrust into that beautiful princess brought tears to Sorem’s eyes.

“It is quite exciting when we might be found,” the hunchback muttered. “But also terrifying.”

Vadde ran her fingers through his hair, chiding, “As I recall, when we first got married, sneaking away into the forest was usually your idea. That’s how we got the lagoon.”

Sorem shuddered.

That hunchback merely laughed, kissing her neck. “My idea after you’d enticed me. Interesting that you leave out that part. Come. Our skins will be itching all day from the grass. I’ll rub your body down with some oils when we’re home.”

But when he tried to get up, she held him in place.

It was one sniff at first, then another and he marveled, “Princess, what is wrong?”

“No. No. I’m not sad. I…I said such awful things about you. I was so furious, but it was so childish.”

He pecked her lips then teased, “How many of my shirts did you destroy in your fury?”

She laughed through the sob then pouted. “Roughly three.”

“Princess….”

“Yes. I’m working on my temper. I’m sorry.”

“Come.” He helped her up and they began to dress.

Sorem finally regained his motor functions. As he watched their playful petting, he hated them.

That terrible hunchback even brought his hand under her then smeared his finger on her cheek.

“You…monster!” Vadde called, giving chase. “Now I have to go to the river!”

“You’d have to go anyway.” The hunchback yelled in his run. “I hadn’t had you in days. Trust me, I plan to take my fill tonight, too.”

They ran off, leaving Sorem doubled over in disgust.

No. This wasn’t happening. It was simple. The Princess of Rowil had been missing for near six years.

“She was swept away. Stolen away by this hunchback and…and enchanted. That’s why she wants to leave but nobody in this blasted valley will let her.” When Sorem stood to his full height, it was with a new conviction. “She is in need of rescue.”

So with an iron resolve, he walked after them. Though they ran, they were loud with their petty, idiotic scabble that he could follow with ease.

After bathing in the river, they made their way to a tiny hut which they called home. It was remote enough that Sorem could believe that hunchback would have his way with her privately without anyone’s objections. In fact, he did just that again at lunch time. So, when they left and walked into the village hand in hand, Sorem had no choice.

He had to set that hut on fire.

It was for the princess’ rescue after all.

Maybe whatever magic in there would fade with this.

Some distance away, Sorem watched as people gathered, frantic to try and salvage that hut of sin but Sorem would have none of it.

“Burn it brighter,” he ordered the Jvalan, “now.”

And she complied.

Now with him satisfied, the Jvalan allowed her true disgust to seep into her voice. “And now what?”

“Now,” Sorem attested, “we find this so called Wyrn and let him know of the evils being committed in this very village, right under his very nose!”

But an hour later, the little hut now burned to the ground, Sorem sang a different tune.

All of the village gathered there but five men waited for Sorem inside the inn. One by one they stepped out and two caught hold of him.

He returned to that crime scene as a prisoner, forced to kneel.

The entire village gathered there. Now, no one attempted to douse the hut with water. None of that had worked.

“Magic. It was a fire fueled by magic,” the hunchback said, staring at what remained of his home.

At his side, Vadde did not move a muscle.

One of the burly men gripping Sorem called out, “We have this stranger.”

Silence.

The evening was not yet at a close, but the wind carried the ash of the hut into the sky.

“Who are you? What business do you have in this town?” one captor demanded of Sorem.

Sorem in turn intended to remain defiant—this cape and these robes weren’t frivolous decorations. He was a prince after all. But a meaty hand caught his shoulder and gripped him tight, sending a pain shooting through his body so strongly that he gave in.

“I am Prince Sorem! I’m on a quest. I’m only passing through on that quest.”

Someone else yelled out, “But he was following Wyrn all morning. I saw him.”

“Maybe that was coincidence?” another argued.

“Coincidence my ass. I’ve got eyes.”

That strong grip was back, and Sorem cried, “It is true. I have business with the hunchback. So why would I injure his home?”

“Business?” the man gripping him demanded.

Sorem imagined those fingers digging into his very flesh at this rate—the pain was unreal.

“He looks versed. I need a guide. That is all.” The desperation in Sorem’s voice was no act. He feared losing that entire arm. “I am a prince,” Sorem reminded them. “A prince! Unhand me. I demand to speak to the one in charge. I seek an audience with this Wyrn!”

The pain held steady. It didn’t dull but didn’t increase either.

“You can speak to Wyrn just fine,” one said.

To Sorem’s horror, they all turned their attention to one person—the hunchback. Impossible. But as people came and went, bowing and reporting about the fire, Sorem saw it. It wasn't just a beautiful princess this hunchback had power over, but an entire valley of people. A deep pit formed in Sorem’s gut. He feared whatever magic at play—it was strong enough to counter the Jvalan after all. This hunchback terrified him.

The villages carried on with their wild chatter and even wilder speculation about Sorem's involvement in arson until a hand went up.

Wyrn, the hunchback, never looked away from what remained of his house as he said, “It’s not his fault.”

A collective gasp came from the crowd, Sorem included. Even with those words of safety, Sorem felt palpable panic.

All this time…this was Wyrn.

Slow at first, Wyrn turned and said to his wife, “Will you confess, or should I explain it?”

When she looked at him, tears already streamed down her cheeks. “You misunderstand.”

Her words sparked Wyrn’s anger. “Will you confess, or must I explain it?” he repeated.

Vadde stared him down for some time. Finally, she reached under the hem of her dress. The baby sock she once carried sewn into her clothes was attached to a thread.

She presented it to her husband with shaky hands.

Wyrn stared at his palm for a lifetime before vocalizing his disgust. “A fertility spell….”

Vadde shed another tear as she explained, “It’s just for good luck.”

“And it has nothing to do with why you wanted to make love in the light of day outside?” Her silence was all the answer he needed. No longer disappointed, he sounded hurt. “It’s not enough for you, is it? You can’t just be satisfied.”

A whisper was the most she could muster up in her defense. “I believed what you said, and I’m satisfied. I just…I thought it would help. It can’t hurt to carry some good luck. I wanted to do my part.”

“And I’d said not to do anything at all!”

His shout took even the serenades of the wildlife.

“I bet you anything,” he growled, “anything, that there’s a pair for this, and it’s the absolute only thing that survived that fire.”

When she only stared at the ground, he regarded the little garment with a scowl.

“That’s what magic does when you meddle with it. Who taught you this?” he demanded.

The innkeeper stepped out of the crowd, but it was her husband, Bonn, who overtook her and spoke up. “I did.”

All eyes trained on him.

“Brother,” Bonn said, “I meant well—”

“What gives you the right? What gives you the right to teach another man’s wife magic?”

“I wanted to keep her here. I was trying to help.” Bonn fired back, “If you were a bit more open-minded, I wouldn’t have to do your job. Jaffo women who leave don’t come back, even when their love is deep. That is the way of the spell. So, we can’t let her go even if we wanted to. So, if you can’t give her that much, the most you can do is provide her with a child. Magic or no magic. A proper husband listens to his wife’s needs.”

Somehow, this hushed silence was different. Wyrn threw down the sock, marched to his brother, and punched him right in the gut.

The big man propelled off the ground and landed at such a distance that Sorem lost all power of speech. This was unnatural.

It was as he feared—this hunchback was a savage, a savage with pagan magic. Magic that allowed him to take command of an entire valley, as well as steal away a gorgeous princess for a wife.

Bonn staggered to his feet. The innkeeper rushed him but not just her; Vadde hurried to stand in Wyrn’s way, hands extended.

“Your fight’s with me. Your argument’s with me. I was the one who brought bad luck on us. You’re right. It was ignorant and selfish, and I don’t know how to stop it.”

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