"The Countess" Parts 3 and 4

Story by LogicasBestia on SoFurry

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#2 of The Countess

The next section of the journey of the Wolf Mercenaries.


--Part 3--

The sun rose upon the companions as it always had, the red hues the same as they had been for the last three years. Something was different this day though, something about the smell in the air, the unusual cold.

As Sir Amiel woke, he slid out of his tent as he always had, and he took in the crisp air as he always had; but something this day was different. He first noticed the crackling sound of a fire in the area. He walked toward the edge of the trail to find his companions gathered at the fire, preparing a stew. His jaw hang, as though he were about to inquire, but he couldn't find the words. He merely took his place on the fallen-log-turned-bench.

Sharess was watching the stew boil intently, and without looking away she announced to the group, "There's word of some sort of corrupt noble, in the small town north of here. Harshire, I think it was called."

Sir Mikael was puzzled, and asked, "What makes 'em worse than any other gold whores around here?" "It's not just money," Darek started in, "she sends her guards in and has them steal the able men away and rob the women and children that are left. The ex-guard captain of the village has been looking for someone to take care of this issue."

Sir Amiel sighed, and said, "We have to put ourselves in the maw of danger again? Will we at least be getting paid for killing her? Darek turned to him and smiled, "She's rich, and we can keep whatever we find in the manor. Save for the men of course." "If they're alive that is!" Sharess cut in.

Amiel and Sharess returned to the tent area to pack their things. The troupe soon was off down the road, bearing north...

--Part 4--

The four companions arrived in a small hamlet, or what was left of it. There were only four villagers who came to confront them, all women. These women looked battered, sick, alone, and above all, tired. One woman, the rather old elk, gathered her courage and walked toward these four, strange warriors. "Do you know not of our plague?" She said. Her voice was raspy and constricted, for she did not have the energy to speak clearly.

"What plagues you?" Darek said curiously. "The Countess and her men come every night, and they beat us and try to extort us." "It's alright, we're here to stop her tyranny." Darek reassured. "You will try, and you will fail."

Sir Amiel leaned in close to Sir Mikael. "What in the hell is her problem then?" he whispered to him. "Don't joke about that, she's probably just scared for our sake." "She has a weird way of showing it." Amiel replied, still hushed.

The troupe ignored her warnings and began traveling through the ruins of the village. There were at least six burned hovels and the rest were still burning. The reached the base of a steep hill. The trail now winded upward to it's peak, were a manor house rested. Steadily, and anxiously, they ascended.

They reached the great oak doors of the many floored mansion. Sir Mikael gripped one of the great bronze knockers and beat against the door.... There was no response from within. Just as Sir Darek was reaching for the door, the great oak gave way. The doors opened in, slowly, creaking. The four entered with a head of steam and their swords readied from their sheathes.

The four companions had no idea what trouble may await them beyond those doors; the only thing they was that they were entering the belly of the beast, and that was just how they liked it.