-
Sign up or login, and you'll have full access to opportunities of forum.
The Disappearance Of Princess Cordelia
- Thread starter Wragg
- Start date
-
- Tags
- original story
Quiet Paul
Tribune
Such deeply personal questions. Once or twice a week is the answer....OK, I'll bite.
I'm sure you have a very fine organ, Paul. Do you play often?
Quiet Paul
Tribune
And let's not get started on wind pressures or tuning knives
PART 2
Cordelia had not realised it was possible to inflict the amount of agony and humility on a human being as was being inflicted on her now. Her feet were about a foot above the ground, and she was hanging by her wrists from metal clasps and chains fixed to a wooden beam in the ceiling above her. She was stark naked, and the temperature in the chamber felt to her to be at or even below freezing point, in reality it was maybe five or eight degrees above freezing but it was bloody cold.
Her nipples were squeezed by two large, ugly, agonising, clamps.
All of which was intolerable enough, but the scourge which Lord Vulcan was enthusiastically using upon her arse was equipped with metal barbs which tore into her young, tender flesh.
Princess Cordelia Ross of Heidraen hung there and bellowed in agony.
Her life up till now had been one of comfort and privilege; she had never had to endure the slightest discomfort; the possibility of pain on this scale had never before occurred to her.
The future didn’t look good, either. Vulcan had taken her on the flying horse to a castle built near the top of Mount Inge Tarant. The horse had landed in the castle courtyard, where the first thing she had noticed were seven large wooden crosses laying on the ground awaiting their victims. Each one had a name, followed by the word ‘Hexe’. This, she knew, meant ‘witch’.
ROXANDRA
BLAIRE
PENELOPE
BARBARIA
EULALIA
CORDELIA
ELISE
Vulcan had explained, quite matter of factly, that he proposed to take her into the castle and torture her. He knew that the other women would pick up her distress – he was sure they were all mind readers, and would come to him right here at Castle Tarant, whereupon he would crucify them, one by one, as they arrived. But as he did so, he would cast a spell upon them so that they would live, nailed to the cross, without the mercy of death, for at least a year, just as he had had to endure the cross for a year. Then he would consider whether to let them die. He then observed, with a smug grin, that only those that he allowed into the castle could get into the castle, it was impregnable against attack from ground troops.
Vulcan was certain that his magic was superior to that of any of the ‘witches’, even Eulalia. Vulcan feared the magic of one sorcerer, and one sorcerer only, and he hadn’t been seen in Aestria since the days of the Dark Princess. Even then, as the Dark Princess, he had nearly defeated Merlin. He knew he was stronger now.
So Cordelia hung, and the agony of her despair was almost as great as her physical agony. She’d tried to threaten Vulcan that her father, Shevak, would rescue her, but she knew that even Shevak could not successfully attack Castle Tarant. ‘Even Pilus can’t save me now’, she thought, as far as she could see she had twelve months of unendurable agony before her. She had been hanging here less than twelve minutes, and it felt like a lifetime.
She threw back her head, and wailed in pain and hopeless terror, as the scourge wrapped itself, once more, around her bleeding buttocks.
Cordelia had not realised it was possible to inflict the amount of agony and humility on a human being as was being inflicted on her now. Her feet were about a foot above the ground, and she was hanging by her wrists from metal clasps and chains fixed to a wooden beam in the ceiling above her. She was stark naked, and the temperature in the chamber felt to her to be at or even below freezing point, in reality it was maybe five or eight degrees above freezing but it was bloody cold.
Her nipples were squeezed by two large, ugly, agonising, clamps.
All of which was intolerable enough, but the scourge which Lord Vulcan was enthusiastically using upon her arse was equipped with metal barbs which tore into her young, tender flesh.
Princess Cordelia Ross of Heidraen hung there and bellowed in agony.
Her life up till now had been one of comfort and privilege; she had never had to endure the slightest discomfort; the possibility of pain on this scale had never before occurred to her.
The future didn’t look good, either. Vulcan had taken her on the flying horse to a castle built near the top of Mount Inge Tarant. The horse had landed in the castle courtyard, where the first thing she had noticed were seven large wooden crosses laying on the ground awaiting their victims. Each one had a name, followed by the word ‘Hexe’. This, she knew, meant ‘witch’.
ROXANDRA
BLAIRE
PENELOPE
BARBARIA
EULALIA
CORDELIA
ELISE
Vulcan had explained, quite matter of factly, that he proposed to take her into the castle and torture her. He knew that the other women would pick up her distress – he was sure they were all mind readers, and would come to him right here at Castle Tarant, whereupon he would crucify them, one by one, as they arrived. But as he did so, he would cast a spell upon them so that they would live, nailed to the cross, without the mercy of death, for at least a year, just as he had had to endure the cross for a year. Then he would consider whether to let them die. He then observed, with a smug grin, that only those that he allowed into the castle could get into the castle, it was impregnable against attack from ground troops.
Vulcan was certain that his magic was superior to that of any of the ‘witches’, even Eulalia. Vulcan feared the magic of one sorcerer, and one sorcerer only, and he hadn’t been seen in Aestria since the days of the Dark Princess. Even then, as the Dark Princess, he had nearly defeated Merlin. He knew he was stronger now.
So Cordelia hung, and the agony of her despair was almost as great as her physical agony. She’d tried to threaten Vulcan that her father, Shevak, would rescue her, but she knew that even Shevak could not successfully attack Castle Tarant. ‘Even Pilus can’t save me now’, she thought, as far as she could see she had twelve months of unendurable agony before her. She had been hanging here less than twelve minutes, and it felt like a lifetime.
She threw back her head, and wailed in pain and hopeless terror, as the scourge wrapped itself, once more, around her bleeding buttocks.
so we're no longer free-range Hexe?
sorry, that's fifty lashes at least
Great scenario, the idea of being magically kept alive on a cross for a year is one to dream on....
Quiet Paul
Tribune
A couple of weeks in Northern Europe and a glass or two of that Trappist beer clearly haven't dimmed Wragg's imagination. Welcome back!
so we're no longer free-range Hexe?
sorry, that's fifty lashes at least
Great scenario, the idea of being magically kept alive on a cross for a year is one to dream on....
Or an eggstra year on the cross?
Primus pilus
Magister Australis
Pp was wondering whether this will become the next Blaire Witch Project.so we're no longer free-range Hexe?
sorry, that's fifty lashes at least
Great scenario, the idea of being magically kept alive on a cross for a year is one to dream on....
Primus pilus
Magister Australis
Pp has had considerable experience of the stimulatory and medicative powers of Abbey Leffe, especially when consumed in substantial volume is company with moules et frites. He is not surprised that Wragg's imagination is as it should be.
Oh, yes...good stuff, that!
Paul caressed Eulalia’s left nipple as they relaxed after the best sex that they’d had for nearly twenty years. Actually, the only sex that they’d had for twenty years; despite their duties as sorcerer and high priestess keeping them apart for very long periods neither of them ever looked at another, and they had, after all, been lovers for the best part of a millennium.
They’d got rather good at it in that time.
Eulalia, nearly asleep, stretched luxuriously, and Paul gazed appreciatively at her body. She still looked like a teenager, even at the age of one thousand, six hundred and seventeen last birthday.
“Barb and the others will be here, soon,” she commented.
“Yes, I suppose we must get on, we can’t lay here like star-crossed lovers while god-alone-knows-what is happening to Cordelia,” he agreed. He clambered out of bed, and Eulalia thought that he had the best bum that she’d ever seen on a man.
As he dressed, he said, “this is going to be a challenge. Any idea where he’s taken her?”
“I know exactly where he’s taken her. Castle Tarant.”
He turned and gawped at her. “I thought that had fallen off the mountain five hundred years ago!”
“Evidently not, she’s in the dungeon right this minute being rather cruelly scourged.”
“Oh, poor Cordelia!” He’d never met her, but in his mind’s eye he doubted that her body would be improved by scourging. “How the hell are we going to get her out of there? Is he holding her to ransom? What are his terms?”
“His terms, apparently, are that he wants Barb, Siss, Roxie, Blaire, myself, Cordelia, and even the Fat Slave Girl on crosses in his castle courtyard. Nailed to them. He thinks he can keep us alive on them for a year. That sounds tedious, never mind painful. I’ve got better things to do with the next tear of my life than hang on a cross gazing at an inside wall of Castle Tarant.”
Paul laughed, despite himself. “S’okay, Eul, Barb and Siss will be there. You won’t be lacking entertainment.”
Eulalia hurled a pillow at him.
Paul picked it up. “Does Vulcan know you know this?”
“Cordelia doesn’t know either, I’m afraid. He was a bit, excited about his crucifixions, and she was terrified. The power of her terror overcame his block and I could see and hear everything that she could.”
“When was this?”
“It was about the same time that your penis was stroking my g-spot.”
Paul rolled his eyes. “You didn’t even blink….I wish I could multi-task like you.”
Eulalia finished dressing, and turned to him. “Merlin?”
“Yes?”
“If the Dark Princess has somehow been reincarnated as Lord Vulcan, does the prophecy from The Deeds and Prophecies of Jedakk the Crucifier still apply? It specifically mentions the Princess of Darkness. Can he escape his fate, merely by changing sex?”
Paul / Merlin recited the prophecy, as he considered the question.
’Out of the Cowardice of Darkness cometh Valour;
‘Out of the Mists of Despair steps forth Hope.
’From the loins of the Rodent cometh a Lion,
‘Behold, from the seed of he that soweth discord cometh good
‘From mendacity springs truth.’
‘Behold, he shall slay the evildoers
‘With his Queen by his side, the wicked shall be slain
‘His Queen, from the sacred house of Svendia
‘Daughter of the house of daughters.’
‘Yet the daughter shall bear a son, fruit of her union with the Lion
‘And he shall be greater than his father
‘To him shall be given the keys to the Kingdom of Darkness
‘And the Princess of Darkness shall be defeated.’
He said, “Shevak and Barbaria have slain evildoers in their hundreds, and they certainly have a son, very rare for a Svendian Princess to have a son….but Pilus is still only a lad, a mere stripling. ‘Keys to the Kingdom of Darkness.’ I wonder……?”
“I’ll tell you one thing,” said Eulalia, “It sounds like Prince Pilus is the best hope we’ve got!
They’d got rather good at it in that time.
Eulalia, nearly asleep, stretched luxuriously, and Paul gazed appreciatively at her body. She still looked like a teenager, even at the age of one thousand, six hundred and seventeen last birthday.
“Barb and the others will be here, soon,” she commented.
“Yes, I suppose we must get on, we can’t lay here like star-crossed lovers while god-alone-knows-what is happening to Cordelia,” he agreed. He clambered out of bed, and Eulalia thought that he had the best bum that she’d ever seen on a man.
As he dressed, he said, “this is going to be a challenge. Any idea where he’s taken her?”
“I know exactly where he’s taken her. Castle Tarant.”
He turned and gawped at her. “I thought that had fallen off the mountain five hundred years ago!”
“Evidently not, she’s in the dungeon right this minute being rather cruelly scourged.”
“Oh, poor Cordelia!” He’d never met her, but in his mind’s eye he doubted that her body would be improved by scourging. “How the hell are we going to get her out of there? Is he holding her to ransom? What are his terms?”
“His terms, apparently, are that he wants Barb, Siss, Roxie, Blaire, myself, Cordelia, and even the Fat Slave Girl on crosses in his castle courtyard. Nailed to them. He thinks he can keep us alive on them for a year. That sounds tedious, never mind painful. I’ve got better things to do with the next tear of my life than hang on a cross gazing at an inside wall of Castle Tarant.”
Paul laughed, despite himself. “S’okay, Eul, Barb and Siss will be there. You won’t be lacking entertainment.”
Eulalia hurled a pillow at him.
Paul picked it up. “Does Vulcan know you know this?”
“Cordelia doesn’t know either, I’m afraid. He was a bit, excited about his crucifixions, and she was terrified. The power of her terror overcame his block and I could see and hear everything that she could.”
“When was this?”
“It was about the same time that your penis was stroking my g-spot.”
Paul rolled his eyes. “You didn’t even blink….I wish I could multi-task like you.”
Eulalia finished dressing, and turned to him. “Merlin?”
“Yes?”
“If the Dark Princess has somehow been reincarnated as Lord Vulcan, does the prophecy from The Deeds and Prophecies of Jedakk the Crucifier still apply? It specifically mentions the Princess of Darkness. Can he escape his fate, merely by changing sex?”
Paul / Merlin recited the prophecy, as he considered the question.
’Out of the Cowardice of Darkness cometh Valour;
‘Out of the Mists of Despair steps forth Hope.
’From the loins of the Rodent cometh a Lion,
‘Behold, from the seed of he that soweth discord cometh good
‘From mendacity springs truth.’
‘Behold, he shall slay the evildoers
‘With his Queen by his side, the wicked shall be slain
‘His Queen, from the sacred house of Svendia
‘Daughter of the house of daughters.’
‘Yet the daughter shall bear a son, fruit of her union with the Lion
‘And he shall be greater than his father
‘To him shall be given the keys to the Kingdom of Darkness
‘And the Princess of Darkness shall be defeated.’
He said, “Shevak and Barbaria have slain evildoers in their hundreds, and they certainly have a son, very rare for a Svendian Princess to have a son….but Pilus is still only a lad, a mere stripling. ‘Keys to the Kingdom of Darkness.’ I wonder……?”
“I’ll tell you one thing,” said Eulalia, “It sounds like Prince Pilus is the best hope we’ve got!
Primus pilus
Magister Australis
Pp is intrigued at such a prophecy and he smiles at the description of a lad, a mere stripling.
Primus pilus
Magister Australis
Pilius Mum? Sounds like a disease. Have you forgotton your own son's name? How can he be confident and strong and save you all when Mum can't even remember his name.Prince Pilius...the best hope we've got????? .... oh this is going to be good.
Paul returned to the Bar, where Wragg was on his third pint, and Eulalia went outside to meet Barbaria and the others when they arrived from Heidraen.
“Good meeting?” asked Wragg, with a leer.
“Very positive, thank you!” replied Paul, loftily. “We discussed matters of which you would have no understanding.”
If Paul thought that was a put-down then he’d underestimated Wragg. “Oh, I’m sure I understand, my dear fellow. Eulalia is an extremely sexy woman. Don’t blame you in the least, old bean. I’d do the same if I had half a chance.”
“Well, you won’t be getting even a hundredth of a chance, so you can just shut up, drink your beer, and mind your own bleeding business! Honestly! Spare us from nosey journalists!”
Wragg pondered. He didn’t think the revelation that the High Priestess of Aestria was having an affair with the landlord of the Boar in South Hagen would sell much copy, except perhaps in downtown Heidraen. There was a much bigger story here, and as yet he didn’t understand it. If Eulalia was concerned about Cordelia she had a funny way of showing it, but maybe Paul was right. There was stuff going on here he really didn’t understand. Travelling while time was frozen around him, flying horses, weird. And why had Eulalia called Paul ‘Merlin.’ He took a pull from his beer and this time he was silent.
Paul broke the silence. “Listen, Wragg, I was a bit short with you there. Sorry about that. Fact is that Eulalia and I are very old friends, and we haven’t seen each other for a while. You must know that Cordelia is in real danger, and, frankly, if you go printing any of this you will make things much, much, worse for her. Can I rely on your discretion?”
Wragg made a mental note to look up ‘discretion’ next time he found a dictionary, then said, “Yes, well, Eulalia said much the same thing, but in a slightly more forceful way. If I can be of assistance in helping Cordelia, I’d love to help. But people will be wondering what’s going on within the next day or so.”
“Just say that she’s gone to visit the Elfen-folk. Erin will be discrete.”
Wragg was just about to ask whether he could borrow a dictionary, when there was an almighty disturbance at the door.
Eulalia came in, supporting a badly wounded soldier. Wragg recognised him as one of the Heidraen Palace Guards.
Paul swept the glass and plates off Wragg’s table, which hit the floor with a crash. The two men helped Eulalia get the man onto the table.
“Sandra!” thundered Paul, “Fetch the doctor! Quick!”
Sandra, who was standing, open mouthed, behind the bar, needed no second bidding, and flew out of the pub.
Blood dripped from the table. Wragg bent to hear what the man was trying to say.
“….ambushed….guards all dead…only survivor…women taken…..I’ve failed my queen….’
A tear dripped into the pool of blood on the table, and the man stopped breathing.
“I’m afraid he’s dead,” said Wragg, and repeated the soldier’s last words.
Eulalia never swore.
“Ohhh……FUCK!” she said.
“Good meeting?” asked Wragg, with a leer.
“Very positive, thank you!” replied Paul, loftily. “We discussed matters of which you would have no understanding.”
If Paul thought that was a put-down then he’d underestimated Wragg. “Oh, I’m sure I understand, my dear fellow. Eulalia is an extremely sexy woman. Don’t blame you in the least, old bean. I’d do the same if I had half a chance.”
“Well, you won’t be getting even a hundredth of a chance, so you can just shut up, drink your beer, and mind your own bleeding business! Honestly! Spare us from nosey journalists!”
Wragg pondered. He didn’t think the revelation that the High Priestess of Aestria was having an affair with the landlord of the Boar in South Hagen would sell much copy, except perhaps in downtown Heidraen. There was a much bigger story here, and as yet he didn’t understand it. If Eulalia was concerned about Cordelia she had a funny way of showing it, but maybe Paul was right. There was stuff going on here he really didn’t understand. Travelling while time was frozen around him, flying horses, weird. And why had Eulalia called Paul ‘Merlin.’ He took a pull from his beer and this time he was silent.
Paul broke the silence. “Listen, Wragg, I was a bit short with you there. Sorry about that. Fact is that Eulalia and I are very old friends, and we haven’t seen each other for a while. You must know that Cordelia is in real danger, and, frankly, if you go printing any of this you will make things much, much, worse for her. Can I rely on your discretion?”
Wragg made a mental note to look up ‘discretion’ next time he found a dictionary, then said, “Yes, well, Eulalia said much the same thing, but in a slightly more forceful way. If I can be of assistance in helping Cordelia, I’d love to help. But people will be wondering what’s going on within the next day or so.”
“Just say that she’s gone to visit the Elfen-folk. Erin will be discrete.”
Wragg was just about to ask whether he could borrow a dictionary, when there was an almighty disturbance at the door.
Eulalia came in, supporting a badly wounded soldier. Wragg recognised him as one of the Heidraen Palace Guards.
Paul swept the glass and plates off Wragg’s table, which hit the floor with a crash. The two men helped Eulalia get the man onto the table.
“Sandra!” thundered Paul, “Fetch the doctor! Quick!”
Sandra, who was standing, open mouthed, behind the bar, needed no second bidding, and flew out of the pub.
Blood dripped from the table. Wragg bent to hear what the man was trying to say.
“….ambushed….guards all dead…only survivor…women taken…..I’ve failed my queen….’
A tear dripped into the pool of blood on the table, and the man stopped breathing.
“I’m afraid he’s dead,” said Wragg, and repeated the soldier’s last words.
Eulalia never swore.
“Ohhh……FUCK!” she said.
Quiet Paul
Tribune
Sandra? Who on earth is she? Is any one else getting confused?
Quiet Paul
Tribune
Hang on. Beautiful (one assumes) and probably submissive, certainly obedient, young girl and you're not interested. Barb must be off colour today.Don't look at me ....