The Tale of HappySinner and WarNick
Part 20.
Nick flushed and looked away, his cheeks reddening with the memory.
“I - don’t think it was The Orms himself, Sinner.” Looking back at his friend, he slowly shook his head. “I just don’t think it could’ve been... well... oh, hells!” Nick looked decidedly uncomfortable, but Sinner made no move or sound to prompt his agitated companion.
“The Orms sent one of his demons for me. Only I didn’t realize at first... She was just so beautiful...” Nick’s eye’s focused on a time before the beginning of their journey, a time, in fact, that precipitated the chain of events that brought the young warrior and the enigmatic minstrel together, and to this place. It seemed a lifetime ago, though - almost as though it was the memory of another person leaving a ghostly image in his mind.
Sinner finally broke his silence. “A woman, then? A Demon in female flesh?”
Nick took a deep breath. “It was the end of the young men’s final training, after which they were accepted at the warrior’s tables as equals. There was a bigger celebration than normal, because I was leading the group of new warriors before the chief - my father - to receive the oath of protection from the head of our clan.”
“The son of a chief should receive no less” chuckled Sinner, sipping his wine.
Nick smiled in return. “I had presented the new warriors, and after the celebrations were underway, I slipped back to my pavilion to change my parade uniform for one more suited to - ah - socializing.” Sinner’s eyes twinkled, but he said nothing, nodding for Nick to continue.
“I was about to leave my pavilion for the celebration, when I suddenly became aware of someone in the room with me... someone with an incredible aura of energy about them.” Nick’s eyes again took on a far-away look. “I reached for my sword as I turned, but was struck still by what my eyes beheld - a vision of loveliness such as I had never seen! A warrior Princess by her garb, but with a softness and womanliness unlike any of the warrior women of the Southern Plains. She looked at me as if she could see into my soul, and moved without a sound. She said to me; You are not the killer your father is. Your soul is in music.” Nick shuddered at the recollection. “I had never told a single person about my feelings about taking on the War Chieftainship. Everyone knew I played, but many of the warriors have a musical bent. It never affected their efficiency as killers. I wanted to be the first Music Master of our tribe since the great Ruenthal, generations ago. I had never uttered a word of it to anyone - ever.” Nicks eyes now held a pleading look as he wrung his hands together. “She was standing in the entrance to my room, then she was in my arms - like that.” Nick snapped his fingers. “And I don’t mean she was eager to be with me, Sinner... I mean, I didn’t see her cross the room. But when she was in my arms, I... I couldn’t quite control what happened. She had... she knew what was in my head and my heart, and she knew how to make a man forget his own name, by the gods below.”
Nick’s brow was glistening slightly with a thin film of perspiration, and he drew a ragged breath before going on. “I don’t know if I took her, or if she took me, but my sleeping furs were all around us, and all I could hear was her voice, telling me I had a destiny to find the instrument that was the extension of my soul - even as she took my body, she filled my mind with the image of what could be, and I was almost gone. I would have handed my soul to her on a platter at that moment. But then...” Nick stopped, and closed his eyes. “For some reason, I noticed something that turned everything around. As she whispered my name, kissing my face, telling me of my destiny, I... realized... she had no breath! She spoke, she sighed, she moaned my name in way that... but she wasn’t breathing!” Nick’s eyes opened at that moment, and were rimmed with unshed tears of remembered terror. “She saw me realize this, and let me see then in her eyes what she was, without letting me leave her embrace or her body. I was in congress with a - a creature not of my kind, that had planted the seed of my soul’s instrument in my heart, to tear at me from within until I sought it out.” Nick’s face twisted into a grimace of disgust and he spat on the floor. “Aaach! I leapt up from her and found my sword, but she just lay there on my bed and laughed! You have all of me that you need now, my little man-thing, she said, And soon enough, I will have all of you.”