Charis slid off the winded body of her devoted warrior sister and then reached back and across caressing Nysa’s check with the back of her hand. No point asking a question yet, as Nysa continued to gulp for air. Kyra perched on one folded leg beside Mistress and warrior sister, her hand behind Nysa’s neck rolling her partner towards her knee, satisfied when Nysa’ head rested comfortably on her lap her steady breathing beginning to return.

Nysa flapped an arm. “I am alright … surprised … have news Mistress.”

On her feet Charis surveyed the cavern, the number of dried inert bodies would need to be taken care of. Counting sisters, one short, where is Zoe?

Niobe noticed Charis’ head swivel about the cavern, checking. “Don’t worry Mistress, our missing sister is on watch in the passageway instead of following my lead to destroy the abominations.”

Charis relaxed at the news then picked up on the disappointment in Niobe’s voice. As Charis shifted to face Niobe, another offered an explanation.

“Mistress, Zoe acted responsibly,” said Dirce, stating a fact, devoid of emotion. Drosis nodding her head in support. Both lent against the cavern wall, their shields resting beside them and spears loosely held in their left hands, both clearly resting and recovering.

“Very few stood in our way!”

Every sister, ignoring their tiredness raised their heads, turned their eyes or both, gawking at the petulant Seer Sister. Under their combined gaze Niobe lowered her head, her cheeks warming red realising her words, petty and wilful.

“And beyond them Seer Sister Niobe, the number of enemies?” asked Astera, neutrally.

“Their number doesn’t matter. They must be destroyed and the sooner the better.” Niobe’s voice dropped to a whisper towards the end as her Mistress embraced her.

“This is my fault sister, I thought to train you, instead I have made you fearful and hence less cautious, therefore ensure you listen to your sisters,” sent Charis. “They love you as you love them.”

Niobe loosened Charis’ embrace slightly so she could rub the dirt from her reddening eyes.

Charis bent her knees slightly and stole a peek, checked and released Niobe, satisfied her seer sister accepted the judgement of her peers.

As if reading her Mistress’ mind, Dirce said, “The passageway is clear Mistress, Zoe stands watch and as soon as Nysa and Kyra are finished lying about and cuddling each other we can be on our way and as one team hunt Niobe’s abominations.”

Synchronised, Nysa and Kyra’s heads craned up in righteous challenge to be greeted by boisterous laughter from Dirce and Drosis.

“We appreciation your consideration sisters,” quipped Nysa, fully recovered. Both warriors now to their feet. The good humour between the warrior sisters lifting the mood of all.

Astera tapped her spear on Thyia’s shield calling her to attention. Ready for battle they marched off to join Zoe in the passageway to reform their warrior three. The scuffling behind them confirmed Nysa and Kyra hurried after them.

The passageway allowed two, shoulder to shoulder to advance forward. Astera and Thyia leaning flat against the passageway wall inviting Nysa and Kyra to pass to allow them to take the lead. Their third, Zoe, bubbled with excitement as the tension built, until the moment arrived. Astera and Thyia reached out to Nysa and Kyra, both hands to each side of their heads to steal a full-on passionate kiss. Surprised, both hands full, one with sword and the other with shield Nysa and Kyra were taken, defenceless. While both considered braining their wayward warrior sisters with their shields the reaction would have been considered overkill!

Zoe’s subdued cackling celebrating the scene, faintly connecting to the joy in both of her warrior three sisters, her gem warming in response.

Nysa and Kyra forcefully broke free by shaking their heads violently, Astera and Thyia confused by their struggle released them. They both placed their backs to the passageway wall beside Astera and Thyia, panting, their adrenaline still active, although they were only familiar with the cause and effect, the science beyond their understanding.

“Stupid!” hissed Nysa. “We are deep within a series of passageways and caverns, an unknown number of enemies commanded by a single source of evil. Time and place sisters!”

Astera held her tongue, rebuked. Thyia though, did not.

“Zoe is on watch, she watches even now and would warn us of any danger.”

“If I can’t make you realise our danger, then for all our sakes just don’t do that again when we are at the bottom of an unknown pit where no one will hear our screams for help, because that is exactly where we are.” Nysa flicked her head at Kyra, and they formed up into the point position on the edge of light radiating from the nearby cavern. Astera, Thyia and Zoe duly formed up behind them somewhat sobered by Nysa’s pointing out of the obvious.

Their sisters joined them in the passageway, a synchronised look from Drosis and Dirce to Charis confirmed the pair needed to shadow behind Astera, Thyia and Zoe to support them. Helice prowled by Charis’ side; Niobe, Ismene and Agape trailing side by side holding aloft lanterns. The new light attracting the attention of living dead in the passageway, until then, passive.

Nysa and Kyra held the line. Astera and Thyia and then in turn Dirce and Drosis over arm stabbed at the heads of the clawing living dead, typically hanging off the shields of Nysa and Kyra. They didn’t need to advance to attract more of the enemy, so they didn’t and when a lull in the numbers of living dead occurred the sisters rested.

---

Kyra and Nysa advanced cautiously down the passageway, stepping over the inert husks already slain and dealing with the ones and twos, which launched at them once they passed the first switch back. They continued to advance cautiously.

The second switchback at the end of the passageway opened into the largest cavern yet discovered, the lantern light unable to sweep away the darkness to allow the warrior sisters to discern the furthest end of the long high roofed chamber.

“The evil is before us Mistress, still in the dark beyond,” whispered Nysa. Kyra swelled with pride, a tingle of joy racing down her spine; Nysa spoke with absolute confidence, not a single doubt, glorious to hear. Kyra relieved her reassurances to her partner, casting doubt upon her doubt, would no longer be required, Nysa’ faith in herself and in Judge finally set in her soul.

The daylight expanded as their formation crept into the cavern proper taking the warrior sisters by surprise. The late afternoon sun, escaping cloud cover and a dull Death Season day managed to cast an enlightening glow through the entrance.

On the edge of the glow, at the far end of the cavern row upon row of dead bodies, stacked high and wide seemingly at quiet peaceful rest, although the oozing of blood from some, disconcerting. Before the orderly dead, waving his arms and chanting, the conductor of this macabre scene weaved and undulated his body in full rapture! His black robes flapping about him in response to his flourishes. His pale bald head swaying in support.

His bald head twitched, and he paused mid-flourish, slowly turning, finally sensing the living behind him when there should be nothing or living dead.

The warrior sisters knelt except for Charis, Zoe, Ismene and Agape who immediately released a barrage of arrows and quarrels in his direction with several hits. The voluminous robe and the body of flesh within it crumpled, smacking heavily into the stone floor. A silence claimed the cavern as the warrior sisters held their breath. Could stopping this evil be this simple?

In answer the multiple snapping of huge wings broke the silence and the daylight previously sneaking into the cavern took flight as huge leather wings sealed the cavern entrance from the outside, from the sun. A huge bat glided into the chamber, sunlight edging in behind it, cheeky and teasing. An insignificant burning smell followed the creature, perhaps brimstone, although no warrior sister could identify the lingering aroma having never smelt it.

The flying creature in no way natural, confirmed when it transformed into a tall male humanoid, dressed in black, smooth cloth and leather, a sympathetic robe shrouding his body, the finest quality, crafted by the finest tailors. The distance between the warrior sisters and the creature unable to deny the excellence and opulence before them. The other significant unnatural indication, the pulsating wave of immense and oppressive fear radiating from him.

Each sister reacted independently, more than one of the sisters dropping to the cold stone cavern floor, hunched over, turning away and clawing at the stone. Others reached the cavern wall trying to hide within the stone, their leather gloves saving their fingernails as they scratched to escape. Niobe reached the entrance to the passageway and collapsed in horror, her control of bodily functions lost to her.

Charis held her ground, calling upon her items, remembering the One Tree, the belonging of the Faerie Forest and her own stubborn will; a piece of metal beaten and blasted as a child, fortified by the loss of her one true friend, refusing to surrender her freedom to an evil she now accused, naming in her mind, ultimately responsible for his callous murder.

The creature’s voice filled the void and destroyed the silence of the cavern, oppressive although not a shout. The timber and age of its voice commanding, refusal to obey futile. Luckily, his first utterance didn’t include an order.

“Charis the Young, yes I known your name, fortunately for you I am here for another, your tattle tale. I need to chastise a servant and not tarry with the insignificant.”

A pitiful squeak echoed from the dark.

Without a thought, ignoring the warrior sisters as irrelevant pests his gaze swung to the deepest black, the furthest ink within the cavern.

“Before me now insect before I go up there and tear your throat out!”

Immediately a flutter, then silence. Several heartbeats passed and from the protection of the dark a smaller bat glided into view from the ceiling, transforming before her Master, grovelling, her fidgeting hands reaching for the hem of his robe and once there, her fingers playing with the fine black silk.

Charis recognised the wretch, her clothing, not as fine as his; her armour not as fine when Charis and her sisters defeated her. The watcher, her pale skin eating away any sun touched skin rendering a patchwork of pigmentation. In contrast her Master’s skin, pure obsidian black, his hair ink black in tight curls and a strong square jaw, marginally wider than necessary or desirable, so most likely functional assessed Charis, in her mind's eye shuddering, her body restricted from doing so by the wave of fear washing over it.

His voice boomed! Punishing the ears of the mortals in the cavern. “Your petty, human like revenge despoiling years of work, you cretin of a servant.”

“She exposed me Master, she stole my magic. None can go unpunished, I need to see her dead!”

“How long do you exist for? How long does she exist for? My plans are measured in their lifetimes, not petty months or frivolous years, maggot!” The Master then grabbed her by the hair and threw her into the fading sunlight by the cave entrance. Amused with himself upon noticing the significant clutch of hair remaining in his clenched fist.

A now familiar odour escaped, reaching each of the warrior sisters, although alone, Charis comprehended the cause and effect.

“Master it burns.”

“Stay where you are. You leave and I will rip you apart! It is a lesson for you.”

His gazed centred on Charis and one other, his fear held them although behind their eyes their minds fought for control; interesting. The rest pitiful, the smell from them … undesirable. Now if they were virgins, he would snatch up a couple and throw them into a stream on the end of a rope and haul in his catch to be drained dry and return until all served his hunger. Alas no twins, so no Seers, the solitary absolute guarantee of virgin blood. Warrior types be they male or female tended to enjoy debauchery, sexual and drink, both of which soured the flavour, such a waste of virgin blood and at his age a virgin male qualified just as much as a virgin female, which he fortunately discovered early. An older brother defending his sister, he a virgin, her not so much; you never forget the satisfying discovery of knowledge.

Causally, almost savouring each step towards the light, his power to defy, his strength to repel his ancient curse upon them! The Master stood over his inept servant shading her from the sunlight.

“Thank you Master. I am nothing before your tremendous power and will never stray from your masterful plan ever again! Your will I am eager to fulfil.”

The Master kicked the Watcher out of the sunlight and followed. Observing the small portion of hairless exposed skull now scorched severely, inwardly amused by the pain he accidently inflicted.

“Do you wish to stay here and kill for your petty revenge or do you wish to join me once again?”

“With you Master. Always with you!”

“Then follow me.”

“The sunlight Master? I forgot how much it burns,” she whimpered.

“Fly in my shadow stupid servant, perhaps I should leave you here to your fate, succeed and I would welcome you back, fail and it will take care of itself,” he mused, while transforming. His huge bat form complete, his leathery wings snapping to propel him upwards and beyond the cavern entrance or perhaps cavern exit since he was leaving, he questioned himself. He couldn’t decide before he needed to concentrate and exert significant effort to rise above the cavern concealing rock wall curtain. Amused by the question of entrance or exit, he defied the sunlight and continued in his flight, oblivious to everything, especially disobedient servants. Although exit or entrance intrigued him, doors and doorways, and cavern openings for example were secondary to windows, fortified walls and towers when hunting prey. After hundreds of years a new question to be discussed and debated with his food before inevitable expiry, marvellous. A pitiful joy though when needing to feed on non-virginal blood.

“No Master, I will follow in your shadow, I will be obedient and faithful and honour your power!”

“You are a simpering coward, bitch!” yelled Charis, now shaking free of the Master’s influence.

The taunt stalled the Watcher for a few heartbeats, indecision her new bane. In those heartbeats her Master was already in bat form flying through the cave entrance ignorant of his servant’s distraction and hesitation. She tried to follow in her bat form, the late afternoon sunlight forced her back to the shadow of the cavern. Still sizzling she transformed to human form, the discomfort of burnt skin tormenting her, heedless of the pain she faced Charis. There were ancient Judge accused rules about sunlight, hence she knew she would face her enemy alone.

The warrior sisters woke from their fear as the wave receded, as the Master flew through the cavern entrance and beyond. The warrior sisters sobbed, checking their pride and realising their failure.

“Strike at its heart my sisters!’ shouted Charis, ignoring the pungent aroma.

Charis picked her favourite target and released at the creature’s right eye. Human in appearance perhaps, evil and predator otherwise and the arrow didn’t penetrate falling harmless, clattering on the cavern’s stone floor.

The Watcher glared defiantly at Charis and laughed. No longer afflicted by the Elven trash anymore since her disguise, her camouflage now considered superfluous, her evil power fully revealed in all its glory, impervious to the weapons of mortals. The defenders of the Dukedom hers to torment and destroy. Perhaps fate decreed she face this test and prove her worth to her Master, redeem herself. Her paired fangs grew in anticipation of the life blood they would shortly drain and savour. She failed to reveal to her Master she believed the Daughters of the Duchess to be virgins, she greedily wished to savour them for herself and now that time rapidly approached, joy of joys her heart racing. Virgin blood would not only sustain her, its special gift, its sort after quality; to restore flesh and beauty. The pain of her burns would soon be behind her.

Charis targeted her heart, while the watcher paused to laugh and gloat, her second arrow bounced off. To the distress of the sisters the watcher stood defiant, unharmed. At their obvious distress the watcher laughed louder, a cackle which filled the cavern and strode confidently towards them. Her fingernails transforming into talon like claws, pointed, sharp, the Watcher pausing to score the stone floor of the cavern.

“Death to you all I will enjoy feasting upon you!”

Nysa stepped forward determined to draw the watcher’s attention, shield presented strongly, facing the watcher. Her efforts solely to protect her sisters from this evil incarnate.

“Back you creature of evil, I call upon Judge and my faith in him to force you back! I call upon his light, his searing Truth and Justice to Judge you! Begone!”

The watcher paused and against her will avoided direct eye contact with his hateful symbol emblazoned upon the round shield presented between her and her prey, surprised by the belief and devoted faith which bulwarked it. Nysa then worked to force her back into the fading sunlight before the sun set and before their last possible chance escaped to destroy this creature of evil. The watcher circled, manoeuvring her body, turning her head instinctively away while using her hands to hood her eyes from the shield. She indirectly advanced upon the hateful bane. Why always an obstacle before a feast, how frustrating, still virgin blood on offer, a delicious reward.

Charis circled in the opposite direction, the cavern side lightly bathed in sunlight particularly avoided by the evil before them. The Watcher cursed and swore in frustration, finally hissing at Nysa, the act of defiance punished as “his” symbol glowed at her the holder’s inner light intimidating her. Charis realised her opportunity, the side of the watcher exposed, her arm and hand raised to protect her eyes from Judge’s punishment, and Charis wondered.

Nysa didn’t divert her attention away from the evil before her, manoeuvring and presenting her shield, trying to force the evil into the sunlight. The wall of the cavern restricting both players in their dangerous game, as both ended up crabbing towards the immovable boundary.

Charis griped her Elven Bow, nocked an Elven Arrow and gathered the combined faerie magic from every item attuned and absorbed into her flesh and willed the summoning to heed her bidding. The magic danced along both of her arms, invading her fingers and emerged, delighting in the destination and purpose. Her Elven bow, a branch from the One Tree shone, a small curl of leaf erupting from the top of the upper limb and another from the bottom of the lower limb. The Elven arrow, born from the One Tree sprouted a thorn as its arrowhead and smaller thorns along its shaft. Upon release the arrow sung the song of the Elves; procreation, growing and life. An anathema to the evil presence the arrow homed in upon, eager to slay and although the skill of the archer helpful, the arrow knew well its purpose and its ultimate target within its target.

The arrow would need to penetrate the rib cage just below the armpit and strike the watcher in the heart. Charis hoped the creature didn’t think to place any heavy armour in the unusual location as the wooden arrow, regardless of her will would likely be defeated. The additional concern, the strange magical protection the evil beast openly displayed and boasted of.

The arrow sunk to its feathered end, impaling the evil creature cross ways, breast to breast.

Only Nysa enjoyed the sight of the Watcher’s stunned facial expression. Her Mistress then joined her in celebration as the evil rapidly aged before their eyes, skin leathering, hair greying and wisping away on a fresh breeze miraculously springing up around them. Finally, the gathered pile of dust, the evil’s remains blew away, until its crumpled possessions and the Elven Arrow that destroyed it remained. Charis approached the remains and picked up her Elven Arrow returning it carefully to her quiver. There were no items to pick up from the remains and little else of value.

As Charis stood Nysa raced to embrace her, instinctively smiling at each other celebrating their success. They then remembered their sisters. Their silence deafening in the hollowness of the cavern. Charis and Nysa scanned the cringing and bent over mass of sisterhood, their awkward movements, sombre and coy faces, eyes cast down. When they realised their Mistress’ eyes were upon them they went to their knees and bent their backs in humility.

“What is happening here?” demanded Charis.

“We are ashamed Mistress,” despaired Astera.

“What could you be ashamed of?”

They took their hands away as they straightened their backs to reveal their shame. To a sister they lost their water. The failing light of the afternoon not weak enough to hide the dampness about their loins.

“We would welcome our dismissal from your service, we have dishonoured our oath and are no longer warriors as we have been found wanting due to our cowardice,” announced Astera. Each word tearful and considered, they failed in their duty.

As one they all cast their weapons aside with a clatter, breaking the silence, throwing themselves down prostrate before their Mistress. The pain of the stone chipped cavern floor upon any of their exposed flesh the least punishment they deserved for the betrayal of their oath.

Charis glanced at Nysa as Kyra included herself in this group of shame, her pained expression frightful.

“Astera, collect your weapons and prepare to defend your honour as Nysa will test you on my behalf!” Charis snarled and chewed the words as she spoke them, controlled, ensuring she didn’t quite resort to anger.

“Mistress I no longer have the right to carry, let alone wielded weapons, I am no longer a warrior.”

Charis screamed, her head animated and leaning forward. “Defend yourself now or I will command Nysa to slay you.” Frustrated with not being obeyed a second time, Charis discovered anger!

Astera cautiously lifted her red rimmed eyes. Charis, her pale white facial skin glowing red, hot blood rising, elsewhere her body set like stone, except her hands, one fist crashed into the palm of the other. Their Mistress’ fist slamming starting a count, leather upon leather the single noise breaking the silence about them. Astera truly feared her Mistress, each count enraging her further.

The fallen second in command reached for her weapons, her wet loin area embarrassing her further when pooled urine ran down her legs and a barely audible squelching noise betrayed her as she moved. Her shame sealed, going into battle her fear and failure revealed by sight and sound. She limply held her weapons, dishonoured, undeserving; she recalled the months of training and instinctive drilling, going through the motions, no more. The other sisters kept their faces firmly planted to the stone, the resulting cuts righteous punishment.

“Commence!” A command and a challenge!

Nysa charged Astera, placing a booted foot upon the bottom third of Astera’s large shield, weakly held forcing it to slant towards the holder, allowing her to almost run up the shield, forcing her target lower to the ground and revealing her unprotected neck. Instead of striking the exposed neck being offered, Nysa leapt past her cramped up victim and using the flat of her sword slapped Astera on her bottom and although there wasn’t much wetness there, enough remained to make an unflattering splattering squelch. Tell-tale sign of wetness.

“Defend yourself or I will put you over my knee and spank you like the child you are showing yourself to be! Are you not my second in command! Are you not the warrior-sister that commands in my absence?”

Astera hardened slightly, she wasn’t a child, her last spanking by her father occurred many years ago, rightfully so given her misbehaviour and she swore then, never again. She would not suffer it from her Mistress; well she wasn’t sure if Charis remained her Mistress anymore, which mattered little while she contemplated her Mistress’ accusation. Rightly though she admitted to herself her cowardice; her fear caused her to release her bladder and therefore not fit to call herself a warrior. How could she be second in command, after this shame? How could she lead anyone while lacking honour?

The urine cooled as wind chill found it. Astera prepared for Nysa’s next charge and deflected the sword edge aimed at her neck by skilfully raising her shield at the correct moment. Nysa charged several times and Astera deflected or dodged to avoid being wounded. Another charge and Astera recalled and reflected upon her shame for a moment. Nysa worked her way under Astera’s guard to punish the unforced distraction smashing her thigh with the wooden sword’s edge heavily bruising the muscle under the soft leather armour requiring Astera to shake off the limp.

“Hold!” Charis stepped forward and pierced Astera with her eyes. “Astera, ask your fellows to remove all your wet clothing and armour, you seem distracted by it.” Charis needed Astera to fight back and recover her pride and worth as a warrior, distraction for whatever reason wouldn’t be allowed to rob her of the opportunity.

Charis retreated to the wall of the Cavern and lent against the cold stone while Thyia assisted Astera to peel off the necessary garments. Thyia returned to the group of shame and they followed the example of Astera, assisting each other and then squatting on their bare bottoms ignoring any lacerations and resulting pain.

Nysa and Astera readied themselves, facing off knees slightly bent weapons and shields in the on-guard position. Astera’s bruise developing a combination shade of black and dark blue.

“Now with that distraction removed, begin again!” announced Charis.

The cold breeze danced around Astera’s exposed loins reminding her of her shame, although once dry, forgotten in the heat of the contest.

Nysa charged, Astera fended her off. She then tried to work inside Astera’s guard, the reach of her sister’s spear frustrating her somewhat now Astera remembered her spine, gradually forgetting her cowardice, her competitive warrior’s instinct returning. The countless times they had spared, competed to within a finger’s width of their lives returned to this contest.

After several moments of feinting and shield slamming, a reward for effort presented, a small opening and Nysa twisted her wrist with sword in hand to strike at it. Astera resisted her warrior sister in earnest to disguise her trap, any easy opening suspected, coward or not. Charis’ second in command drew her spear butt back, the overreach feigned, and struck Nysa’ sword hand on the wrist. Nysa yelped in surprise and dropped her sword. In the moment of surprise Astera added her body weight to her shield and slammed the combination against Nysa knocking her to the ground. Astera advanced upon her downed opponent holding her spear point to her defeated sister’s throat.

“It seems to me my sister that you don’t fight well when your loin is bladder wet, so in future if this is troubling you, you can remove any urinated clothes or armour you wish.”

Astera looked from Nysa to Charis in wonder and head bowed returned to her gathered sisters, none foolish enough to comfort her upon arrival, although they subtly gathered around her as they rose to their feet to join her.

Charis reached for a drop of her faerie magic in preparation to cement her will upon them forcing their faces to fixate upon hers, final, not negotiable, her gaze upon each in turn strong as iron and cold as stone, denying any suggestion of release and then voicing her will to remove any speck of doubt.

“I will not accept your offers under such circumstances, you are bound to me.” The warm air of her breathing visible within the cold air of the cavern adding a touch of the dramatic to the proclamation.

That said, Charis paced before them considering her next words and when ready raised her voice slightly.

“I am displeased, not because of your shame, a shame caused by fear beyond your control. I am disappointed, when you lost your water you were so ashamed, you did not help, even after the unnatural fear removed itself. Nothing stopped you except urinated clothes and armour and self-judgement.”

Her next words screamed from the depth of her lungs, a banshee howling.

“I am your Mistress and I decide when you can and cannot act, not you! You are mine to command and mine to protect.” Her words echoed and replayed several times within the cavern, each replay reminding her wards of her displeasure and disappointment. Underneath though, Charis knew the turmoil of loss and resulting anguish and heartbreak would be unbearable for her. The Elven Items bound them beyond human feelings and relationships and her fear of sister loss fed her fury.

Charis rubbed her face with her hands and then lowered her arms, spreading one to each side, splaying her fingers regaining her composure, determined not to scream again. She hoped.

“Who decides when a warrior-sister can or cannot act?” shouted Charis.

“You Mistress!” They snapped back the reply as one.

Calmly Charis continued. “Do you think I care if you piss your pants or shit in your armour as long as you do as I command?”

“No Mistress!” No sister thought for a moment Charis’ quiet voice meant they didn’t need to respond decisively.

Charis found her motherly voice, explaining and teaching, not berating and diminishing.

“Nysa fortified by her worship of Judge, I fortified by my Elven gifts were able to hold our fear in check. We were still struck, the same as you. When it left us though we acted and that is all I expect of you, always.”

“Yes Mistress,” they replied.

“Be ashamed no longer. Come forward, with your weapons and swear your oath of loyalty to me, as it seems you temporarily misplaced it.”

Nysa first; Astera next and demanded to be punished for her failure to perform her duty. Charis took an ordinary arrow from her quiver and struck Astera five times across her bare buttocks, each assault leaving a separate angry red welt. Each sister then followed and demanded the same punishment, they considered themselves equal in blame.

Niobe, second to last, her Seer’s robe stained heavily with her own urine and faeces. The fear reached into her soul and removed any dignity or control, terrified bordering on madness. When the Master left, her fear induced madness didn’t end, her fear manifested and invaded her will and control, she imagined the eyeless faces, rotting bodies and the bone appendages clawing at her, ripping her flesh from her bones, wanting her to become like them. Her sanity saved by the strong grip and will of Helice. Helice’s Seer Skill invading Niobe’s mind and creating a happy place, a safe place for her to dwell. Forcing Helice’s eyes to open, to witness at least one of the two evils vanquished to dust. A seed of hope within her mind took root and Helice’s presence encouraged it to grow until they both agreed Helice could leave, although only on the condition she held Niobe’s hand.

Her sisters observed Niobe’s reluctance to release Helice’s hand, heartbreaking as it was to witness, misinterpreting the reason. Helice and Niobe locked tearful eyes, Niobe’s bottom lip trembling. For her part Helice didn’t let go, Niobe needed to release and be confident to be alone although near. To face her fears, least of which included her Mistress and perhaps that eureka moment enabled her to step forward, parted from Helice, physically and mentally.

“Mistress your worthless servant Helice needs to advise you Niobe lost her mind, during and after the Master left, her trauma too great, even if she heard your command, she could not have carried it out,” sent Helice.

Charis removed Niobe’s Seer Robe and sandals while her Seer Sister remained obediently before her. Ignoring the fragrant scent of faeces painting her buttocks and legs Charis wiped away the filth with the defiled robe. She then flung both items away, into the dark of the cavern.

“I heeded my sister Helice when all my hope was lost, when his fear broke me Mistress. I am sorry I am such a failure, I am so weak. The only sister to loosen her bowels, I am so ashamed.”

“I am not displeased because my sisters lost their water or their bowels. I am displeased because they failed to follow orders, although you my sweet Niobe were beyond hearing them, so I release you from blame.”

“No!” Niobe shouted unexpectantly, none privy to her Seer sending with Charis, although Charis equally surprised, nevertheless.

“No Mistress, I would suffer punishment as do my sisters, I need to suffer as they do, while we all failed, my shame is greater, they would not understand my excuse. I beg you to punish me!”

Niobe bent over presenting her buttocks, her finger tips reaching for and griping her toes.

“Please Mistress, please?”

Charis teared.

Charis knew this to be wrong. Could she explain to the gathered sisters, would words make this right and avoid this punitive punishment. Niobe could not obey even if she wanted to, how difficult could that be to explain?

“Helice tell Mistress she must, plead for me Sister Helice, save me again!” The three-way shared sending a demonstration of determination as much as Seer Skill.

“You must Mistress. The gathered sisters are non-Seers, they see and accept, because you are Mistress the favours granted Seers. Niobe for example Initiate so soon. A Seer must …”

Swish, splat. The first strike, an angry raised welt appeared instantly on Niobe’s fair smooth buttocks, the arrow snapped with a crack, a piece flying free into the darkness. Tears flowed freely from Niobe’s eyes, her bare feet splashed with a different bodily fluid, a cleansing one. Her gathered warrior sisters winced at her suffering.

“Thank-you Mistress my heart is overjoyed, I am equal.”

Four more strikes, four more broken arrows. Niobe attempted to straighten and struggled. Astera raced to her and embraced her, an arm around her shoulders as she took step after step. Thyia must have imagined the brief relieved smile, surely such suffering would be beyond humour or happiness, after all no sister except Niobe suffered five broken arrows the most before, one.

Helice removed the last of her armour and her breast wrap of cloth before any sister noticed, distracted by the plight of Niobe.

“I am unworthy to remain your bodyguard, barely fit to remain a Seer. After my punishment I would humbly request to wear a Seer Robe and know my proper place Mistress.”

After the trauma of dealing with Niobe, Charis needed respite, not more anguish. She needed to delay, to think. Ask a question.

“Why do you consider yourself more responsible than others to relinquish your sworn duty?”

“My failure is double Mistress as you well know, I failed to follow my sworn liege’s order and I failed to protect my liege, with my life if necessary. I stood ashamed, failed to act, not a bodyguard where I don’t require orders to act to protect your life, not a warrior where I failed to act upon orders issued.”

“No Mistress this isn’t true! Helice saved me as soon as the fear left her, her mind pushed through my awful fear to reach me, she condemns herself where there is no need. Helice would have been at your side but for me, I am the failure, I am …”

“Enough Niobe, you aren’t the failure, Helice made a choice.” Charis’ retort, cold and final. Perhaps cruel, although Charis needed to prevent Niobe’s descent into self-blame and self-loathing otherwise Helice’s sacrifice would be for naught. How could this nonsense make sense, these falsehoods become a false reality?

“I will not release you from your servitude as my bodyguard, you will be granted the opportunity to improve.”

“Mistress, you must, look behind the eyes of your warrior sisters they fear you favour a Seer Sister.”

“Enough Helice, I know you are not guilty, I know! Where is justice in all this?”

“If you will not release me then I must be twice punished, once for each of my two failures.”

The sharp intake of air by the audience of sisters clear and distinct.

“Helice, such punishment, you are innocent.”

“My punishment is necessary Mistress.” Helice assumed Niobe’s position, her feet placed amongst her Seer Sister’s brave tears, the palms of her hands placed flat on the cavern’s stone-cold floor, a Seer’s body sculptured and exercised into a Warrior’s body. Helice’s fingers wandering into the chipped stone, held tear drops dampening them, so many tears. She held a smile to herself as her dark brown braids fell forward, suspended, an unusual sensation she mused.

Charis dealt out five lashes with her right arm and five lashes with her left arm. The difference negligible as one arm strained to hold the bow and the other strained to pull back the arrow and over years of practice and use, her arms and shoulders developed to improve her control of the arrow’s release. The fault with her left arm lies in its lack of accuracy. Therefore, responsible for those welts above the buttocks, the small of the back commonly and those welts below the buttocks, if fortunate upper thighs, if unfortunate and processing a small posterior as did Helice a more sensitive location.

Including the eight arrows broken on Helice’s bottom Charis lost nineteen good arrows dealing out punishment to her sisters as unbidden, her anger found a release, although with Niobe and Helice she needed to recall her anger for appearances sake, certainly not for any justice.

Throwing her final broken arrow, flesh blood upon it, on to the pile at her feet, Helice’s tenth stroke, Charis stepped back as Niobe and Astera assisted her to straighten, rivulets of blood trailing down her legs or directly onto the floor. Where the blood droplets fell into mini pools of tears they swirled and danced until the chipped stone reservoir overflowed with diluted red stream into its neighbour.

Charis addressed her chastised warrior sisters, her anger well and truly spent on tired muscles and injustice.

“Return to the Cavern above this one, we will name it the Inner Cavern for now. Use the dead bodies as kindling, warm yourselves and dry your clothes and armour.”

Each sister paused a moment, Astera taking the lead, quickly hugging Charis, no words spoken and then set about gathering her weapons, armour and clothing hurrying up the passageway. Each sister repeating the ritual until Helice.

“I can heal the worse of your wounds, it is the least …”

Helice’s hand closed over Charis’ mouth, Seer sending or verbal it signalled the same outcome.

“They would know, and my suffering would be for nothing.”

Helice lurched forward and hugged Charis. After several moments Helice pushed off from her Mistress, five, possibly six steps away Niobe caught her Seer sister. She returned to her saviour, concerned, the punishment extreme. Niobe’s shorter body the perfect height for Helice’s bent over body to lean upon and together they struggled up the passageway, picking up the lantern left to guide others taking the same path.

Nysa remained with Charis, the afternoon sun almost set, dusk upon them and one lantern between them to cast light into the dark corners of the cavern.

“They broke my heart sister, although perhaps my reaction unworthy of one in command.” Charis needed to play act, to honour Niobe’s and Helice’s sacrifice and not treat their punishment with any sympathy. Maintain the false reality and the anguish in that lie fed her emotion.

Nysa allowed time to pass, Charis content to allow it, staring into the failing sunlight of the cavern entrance. Then lantern light remained.

Nysa broke the silence. “I have witnessed apprentice Judge Knight’s flayed to within a finger width of their lives for falling asleep while on watch Mistress. Disobeying an order during battle, for that crime you were too lenient.”

“We are not Judge Knights in training, we are Daughters of the Duchess,” Charis uttered, trying to defend her justice.

“Dead is dead Mistress, you do them no favours with leniency and I fear we have found our true enemy. His power ancient and overpowering, my faith helpless as was your affinity for faerie magic. I only hope his over confidence delays his return or he has other business to attend to, although I am not sure how we can defend against him regardless of the time he grants us.”

Charis’ silence consoled Nysa, her words deliberate, heavy and full of truth, perhaps awakening her Mistress to the depth of their hopeless situation. While the Daughters of the Duchess faced danger from time to time, their opponents weren’t organised, an actor in an ancient plan, driven to a purpose and dedicated to a single-minded outcome over centuries if necessary. Their paths crossing with any true evil accidental, although this evil now knew Charis by name and possibly deeds depending upon the bleating tales told to it by the Watcher.

Their days of being accidental heroines, clever escorts for the Seers of Saph and defenders of the people were over, true evil knew of them now.

“We are in the gravest danger are we not, Judge Knight Adept Nysa?”

“Yes Mistress.”