The Sorceress

((Third installment, following The Prince and The Knight. Remark, the first draft was way longer and had more tangents than a fancy shape made from calculus.

Edit: Yes, I forgot to add the title, that's why the URL is so messed up.))

The Sorceress

It was cleanly executed. Neutralising guards with out them knowing what had killed them, followed by the annihilation of the Royal Halberdier regiment guarding the Prince. Then the crown jewels themselves were seized. Murdering royalty in cold blood was indeed impressive and the onlooker had decided that credit be given where it was due.

"Most impressive, Princess Chataigne de Gavaroche," a woman's voice spoke.

"Like wise, Mistress of the Summer Bla-" the princess attempted to reply.

Damocles, who had covered her mouth, warned her,

"Milady, to invoke that name in battle is to court death. It would be much better to simply address her as Po."

Indeed, the Mistress of the Summer Blaze, whose nickname was incidentally, Po, was the Jagatai Khanate's greatest mage such that she held the title as an advisor to the Khan himself. Draped in red fabrics as her namesake would suggest, she was at home with fire. How many she had put to the torch herself was not a figure easily calculated on an abacus. Suffice to say, it was too many, Damocles even knew some of them. The best company of men he led in his prime was decimated by her. They would re-encounter each other numerous times though it was seldom on the battlefield and hence developed a unique relationship.

"Lord Methusaleh, what a quaint surprise," a sarcastic tone was employed.

"Lady Po, you know the name is thrice cursed, henceforth, receive the first one,” Damocles replied grinning.

They both drew weapons; his, an axe, hers, steel flute, and closed the gap. The habitual ringing of steel did nothing to drown out their banter.

"Since when did you father a child Damocles? Don't tell me you've been hiding her all these years?"

"I thought that great mind of yours actually served some real purpose."

The exchange of blows, with the occasional gout of flame to liven the duel, was over shortly, both combatants lifted in the air.

"I'm guessing you two know each other," the princess spoke.

"Something to that effect, child," Lady Po replied.

Princess Chataigne turned to him and said sheepishly,

"She is not a threat to my safety at the moment Damocles. I'll explain later."

He attempted to acknowledge her order but found it awkward to move about in mid-air and had to settle for a grunt of confirmation. Lowered on to the ground gently, Damocles still did not sheath his weapon. The Lady smirked a bit as she put away her weapon and was lead out by the Princess' hand. Outside to the festival grounds now silent, and then out of the city gates, the three arrived before the great sand-ship. A pale green armoured skirt around the red belly, the paddles cleverly tucked away while immobile, gave it the air of a giant beetle at rest. The decks were cleared though, the crew still combat ready should any nasty surprises happen upon them. The only way up was through a gangplank and at the moment, a line of slaves were being led aboard.

What a miserable sight it was, to see the defeated and demoralised men, women and children of a once prosperous city reduced to hard manual labour and hazardous tasks. Only a child would look on with guarded curiosity. The chains would slack momentarily as the slaves were divvied up into their separate quarters, and a rather plucky boy seized the opportunity to pick up a pebble. The chain moved again and the legs lurched forwards once more. Stopping once again, the slave boy hurled his projectile at a regal looking trio, being his last possible act of defiance against the fates. The young girl among them caught the pebble and shifted her gaze towards him. It went straight to his soul and he knew fear once again; petrified by it even. A burly man would detach him from the line and lead him towards her. Dragged along, unable to given the chance to match his captor's stride, he was brought before them, roughly shoved forward on to his knees. He could only understand snippets of the conversation, it being in a language mostly foreign to him.

"What shall I do with him, your highness?"

"Release him," the young girl answered her tone commanding.

"But your highness, he dared to defy you, he should be put to death."

"Humph, then you shall share his fate, whatever it may be," she replied, showing only a hint of anger.

The binds were undone on the slave boy and Damocles knelt to check on the boy. As usual, he had no idea as to what she was up to. Then again, she saw much more than he did and rarely questioned her decision. Lady Po and his sight met and she simply rolled her eyes. The boy looked healthy enough, he must have had a family, a home, and both put to the torch as they finally boarded the sand-ship, leaving the boy as the steam powered beetle rumbled forward. They were on their way. Cresting over the ever-shifting dunes, even with every bump and jolt, he did not take his eyes off his charge. A table and chairs were brought up and Lady Po invited him to the table for some tea. Night had fallen already. A bit of warmth would do him some good. Taking up a seat that allowed him to keep his peripheral vision on his charge as well as being positioned close enough to the table so that he could get up without being obstructed and reach her in three strides, then again, three strides may have be too far, and took the saucer in hand. It was as if she read his mind.

"Oh Damocles, you can relax, you are not our prisoners."

"I may not be, but she is Po," he narrowed his eyes and sipped his tea, tasting no different from any other ordinary tea.

"You are both our guests, and guests are afforded some measure of hospitality," she replied, smiling as she sipped.

Either she was amused by the way he took his job seriously or liked making people squirm. He kept his thoughts of her to himself.

"On what occasion?" he asked, still sipping the warm liquid.

"She's a special person, believe it or not," the reply came.

"So why is she so special?" he asked finally.

"Why? Why, my friend? Simply because she will rule the world," Po answered with a twinkle in her eye.