BELLY OF THE BEASTS

CHAPTER SEVEN

Those in Need

With a cloak wrapped around her, Mary helped Klara down the stairs as she still tried to readjust to her human form. Her pale feet brushed nervously over the cold, dusty stone unsure of their footing but grateful Mary was there to hold her. Mary had to constantly fight to conceal a blush, ashamed to find herself in great admiration of Klara. She just wanted to tell her she was beautiful, as she would have any number of noble girls back in Pearl but somehow the compliment seemed inappropriate here.

At the bottom of the steps they emerged into the gloomy hall to find Duncan, who leapt to his feet in shock.

"Klara?!"

"Yes, it's me," she said, Mary guiding her to a chair.

"How did you manage it?"

"It's complicated but I owe Mary a great deal," she told him.

"It was no trouble Klara," Mary added.

"It was plenty of trouble," replied Klara sitting down carefully at the long table of the hall. "As was getting here in the first place. Which is why I must apologise, to both of you."

"Why?" asked Mary as Duncan waited, confused.

"Because I will not be taking you home Mary and I won't be finding a home for you Duncan. My first responsibility is as a Sister and I must go to the aid of my order."

Mary opened her mouth but said nothing. Duncan sat back down, nodding as if it had been his expectation the entire journey.

"But...but it is dangerous!" protested Mary. "We have all heard the stories of the Throneless lands!"

"Which is exactly why they'll be needing me. I must go."

"But how shall I return home?"

"I'll try and make some arrangements, give you some coin for passage but I must leave soon. Who knows what trouble they could be in."

More silence as Mary stood looking upon Klara in disbelief. Klara did not wait for any more protests and stood up, a little wobbly on her feet. Then without another word slowly walked to the steps heading to the armoury.

A clatter of steel echoed out through the vast armoury, bouncing off the old rock walls. It had been a struggle but Klara had put on her uniform then clasped on the various pieces of lightweight armour, the black steel contrast with the warm red beneath. Laid out on the table before her were a whole array of blades, daggers and swords as well as various other tools. A heavy leather bandoleer was laid out too, it's slender pockets slotted with thin vials full of various concoctions. She strapped a dagger to her ankle and waist, as well as a slender polished straightsword at her hip. A satchel she filled with hooks, pouches of powder and basic supplies. She did so slowly, her fingers fumbling a little with the smaller items, her once instinctive body now a little alien to her after weeks as a crow. Already her reflexes were coming back though and Klara was certain she would be fine for the journey ahead. She hauled a light crossbow from the table, hanging it over her back and stood ready, patting herself down to check all the items. It was all a little heavier than she would have liked but she had no idea what she would need in the Throneless lands.

“Have you ever been?”

Klara turned sharply, a hand thoughtlessly falling to the dagger in her belt. Mary stood at the doorway in her ragged dress, the short sword that slew the dridder still at her hip.

“Been where Princess?” asked Klara tired.

“To the Throneless lands.”

“I was part of a ranging party south twice,” she responded assuredly.

“How far south?”

That gave Klara pause. She had not gone much further than the border mountains, not even having visited the vast grasslands.

“Far enough,” she lied.

“Klara...it is fine to admit you are not ready,” Mary said approaching.

“I have to be ready!” snapped Klara. “She could be dying!”

“I...I...just mean, you need not go alone.”

“What are you on about?”

“I shall go with you Klara,” Mary told her.

Klara stepped back, bumping against the table, shaking her head.

“Absolutely not,” she said. “You are a Princess, not a warrior.”

“I have slain a dridder. How many beasts have you slain?”

“That's...it's...you got lucky!”

“I did,” admitted Mary moving closer again. “And do you not think you shall need all the luck you can get? Is more help for your Sisterhood not better?”

“Yes but...if something happens to you, what good have I done? Getting a Princess of Candora killed.”

Mary straightened up, clutching the hilt of her sword and taking a nervous swallow.

“This is my decision, as a Princess, to pledge my aid to you. If anything happens to me, it is entirely my fault.”

Klara looked at her, surprised at her sudden determination, completely unlike her earlier frustrations and fears. It was an admirable quality.

“You're certain you want to come with me?”

“Entirely. You saved my life several times now, the least I can do is help you in this.”

“As you wish then,” Klara said, a smile emerging.

In truth she was relieved.

“Then I guess I better come along too,” announced Duncan stepping into the armoury from behind Mary. “There's nothing else for me.”

“Duncan, you could go anywhere...after the things you've seen, maybe you want to-”

“No. I don't want to feel helpless. I want to do something.”

Klara nodded uneasily but understood the fire in him. With a deep breath she looked to them both, studying them up and down.

“Well...you had best get some fighting gear together for the journey. I'll have to train you on the road or we'll all end up in trouble.”

They nodded and followed her to the racks of weapons and armour, she paused there a moment and turned to them.

“Thank you.”

They left the stronghold behind via the southern gate, cut deep through the mountainside. Behind them Klara sealed the gate securely, to deter any would be looters though she was unsure if it was enough. The air blowing down the cavern on the south side was much warmer than the north and a warm light beckoned them towards the unguarded exit. Hard leather boots echoed on the smooth stone floor and out into the open air. They emerged into the afternoon light, a cool breeze blowing down this side of the mountain. Ahead was a stretch of dry yellows hills, dotted with jutting rocks and canyons, a few patches of foliage short of arid.

Duncan and Mary were now dressed in light leather armour over some plain tunics and breeches. A step down from the finely tuned armour Klara was adorning but a remarkable upgrade from their miserable attire before. Mary kept her short sword but Duncan had been given an axe on the basis he was more comfortable with it because of wood chopping. All three wore dull red cloaks, finely woven to beat off any of the elements that might come their way.

Without stopping they stepped out from the shade of the cave and set out onto the grasslands, their first step into the vast realm known as the Throneless Lands which accounted for more than half of the whole continent. In the cool air air Klara closed her eyes and breathed it in, happy just to be in her own skin. Running a hand over her shaven scalp she lead them out over the plains of dry grasslands, along a narrow dirt road.

“Our first task is to find horses or another means of transport,” Klara told them. “The swifter our journey, the better.”

“Where are we heading exactly?” asked Duncan, adjusting his heavy backpack.

“Avazmaw,” said Klara. “A town on the northern edge of the Great Desert. That's where I was told to meet them.”

“How far is that then?”

“A long way. I've brought a few maps to aid us but from here to there are plenty of roads at least.”

Mary followed at the back, still unused to all the hiking, especially with all the added weight of armour and supplies. She was grateful for some nice boots and comfortable clothes after the harsh march through Saxum.

“Do many people visit the stronghold? Coming along these roads?” Mary asked.

Klara shook her head.

“Once upon a time yes but since Saxum went to war with Aurba in the west, none at all.”

“Why?”

“Nobody from the Throneless lands wants to be seen taking sides with the kingdoms of the north. So they stop trade with military groups and orders. Only smugglers will be trading along the borderlands still and none of them would want to deal with my sisterhood.”

“Seems to me if the Warden Sisterhood spent as much time hunting monsters as smugglers, the north would be a lot safer,” Duncan remarked glumly.

Klara said nothing but Mary felt obliged to defend her.

“Fighting monsters is not easy Duncan!” she snapped. “If it was we would not need such orders.”

“Who cares?” he replied. “It's not meant to be easy, it's meant to be their duty and yet they're all the way south chasing one witch...”

“Alis,” stated Klara.

“What?”

“Alis. That's the witch we're after. Said to be the oldest in the known world. She's tapped into powers older than the kingdoms, older than the clans and families, even those in the Throneless lands. Believe me, if she is real and she's gathering power in the south, she's a far greater threat than any beast that roams these lands.”

“And if she's not real? If they're chasing a rumour?” said Duncan.

“That's not a risk worth taking.”

“What makes her so dangerous?” Mary asked.

“Depends on which legends you believe, nobody has seen her in centuries. Some tales say she maintains her eternal life on the flesh of the young, others that she enslaves them, transforming them into her minions. The old myths say she mated with monsters, made pacts with the Elder Ones. There are accounts that she destroyed mankind’s first city in a single night, whose name has been long forgotten. Others that the Great Desert was once a lush valley till she destroyed it, envious of those who lived and ruled there. Members of my order theorised she might be behind the vanishing of many mythical or lost civilisations.”

“Are there any good stories about her?” Mary asked with a nervous giggle.

“None. Few in the north have heard of her. Perhaps the Old clans came over the borderlands and their mountains to flee her. To forget her. Or at least whichever power she served.”

“Doesn't sound half as real as the actual beasts terrorising our kingdoms,” scoffed Duncan. “They're out in droves, probably celebrating whilst your order goes south chasing nonsense.”

“My order is not the only one responsible for the safety of the kingdoms,” Klara replied bitterly. “The watchmen of every town and city also hold that sacred duty.”

“But they hide behind their town walls,” Duncan lamented. “Nobody guards the little people, their cottages and farms. My family...”

“I am sorry Duncan,” said Klara. “But you must think how many more might suffer if what my Order says is true.”

“Maybe,” he said. “We'll see.”

The road struck through the hills and rocks whilst the sun hung high leaving no shadow through the grasslands. On and on it went, till the border mountains were distant shapes hidden by the rocks and slopes. Their first night on the path was spent camping under a boulder jutting out from the side of a steep slope. A fire burned away, it's light flickering orange over the dry stone and grass whilst the dark reached in all around them. Beyond the circle of light came howls, not quite like the wolves in the north. Bigger, fiercer.

“What is that?” asked Mary, afraid, clutching her short sword.

Klara seemed unaffected, focused on boiling their soup over the fire.

“Wargs. They can probably smell us. Just stay near the fire and we'll be fine.”

Mary shuffled as close to the fire as was safely possible, enduring the bitter smoke. It just made Duncan laugh, though he was simply doing a better job of hiding his own fear. Klara seemed to have no qualms with sleeping out in the wilderness but Duncan and Mary were more than a bit nervous, still unused to hard ground and no shelter. To ease their fears, Klara took watch and made sure they were sound asleep before she joined them, slipping under her blanket, clutching her dagger in one hand.

In the morning they set off early, just after the sun's rising. Klara was eager and rose effortlessly, quickly gathering her things. Duncan and Mary struggled a bit, groggy and sore, their soft bodies unused to sleeping rough. Klara had to suppress a chuckle at their expense.

Eventually they were back on the road however, keeping south under clear blue skies and a warm sun, kept cool by a gentle northern breeze.

“Are we almost there?” asked Mary after an hours constant march.

“Almost where?” responded Klara without turning back.

“Avazmaw.”

“Avazmaw? Ha! Not even close. There will be several stops before we're there!”

Mary groaned, her petite feet already sore but she did not voice a complaint, not wishing to let Klara down. Duncan had no such wishes.

“We need to get horses,” he said. “We should have got them before we left.”

“Quit your belly aching, you volunteered for this journey. Even Mary didn't think it would be feather beds all the way.”

“And why would she?” he asked baffled.

“Just an expression,” added Klara quickly.

Mary was glad to be walking behind Duncan or he might have saw her face go red.

“I don't care...it's just too much for us, this place goes on forever!”

“Feel free to turn back Duncan,” replied Klara sternly. “But this is the road before us, get used to it.”

With an inaudible grumble Duncan begrudgingly kept quiet and kept pace with them.

Days later with the border mountains of Saxum nothing but a smear on the horizon, they came across their first village, a small smattering of shacks perched upon a defensible hill, overlooking the vast grasslands around them. It would have been cause for celebration if there hadn't been black smoke rising from the village.

“Oh gods...” muttered Mary.

“What do you think happened?” Duncan asked, clutching his axe.

“Bandits maybe. We'll go around and-”

“What?!” gasped Mary. “Around? Those people could need our help!”

Klara shook her head, refusing to look at Mary.

“No. Alis is the greater threat. I need to go to the aid of my people.”
“Of course...” snorted Duncan, tightening his grip on his axe.

“But it is not fair! You are a Warden Sister, you must help these people!”

“Mary, we cannot get involved in-”

“She's right,” Duncan said, stepping forward and heading towards the village. “Those people need our aid. I'll go alone if I have to.”

“Duncan, wait!” Mary cried stepping after him. “We must stick together! Come on Klara...they are right there and our help could save their lives. Is that not your duty?”

Klara finally looks at Mary, her silver pleading eyes leaving no doubts about her sincerity. She was naïve, Klara knew but it was hard to deny her intentions. It WAS her duty.

“Fine. Let's go,” she said, drawing her sword and catching up with Duncan, overtaking him. “But I'll lead...you will all follow my orders. Understand?”

“Sure,” Duncan replied.

“Of course,” Mary said.

The stench of smoke was thick but there was nothing fouler, no bodies or blood. The fires that burned were small now but severe damage had ravaged the village. Klara recognised the signs of a raid but not all of them were right. There was looting, dozens of empty houses but no dead littered the muddy streets and even at the village centre, where a crumbling well stood, there was nobody. Duncan shivered at the sight of it all, the horror of his own family's fate lingering on his mind.

“Where is everyone?” asked Mary, her sword shaking in her grasp.

“Keep quiet...anyone could still be-”

Before Klara could finish a heavy net fell on her from a nearby rooftop, pinning her to the ground whilst another fell upon Duncan before he could move. Mary turned to them both with a squeal but ran first to Klara.

“Oh gods Klara!” she cried, using her blade to cut open the net.

“Hurry!” yelled Klara, seeing figures emerging from behind the houses.

Mary was breathless, her sword clumsy in her hands as she tried to saw through the netting with it, all while the figures came close, standing over her. With a snap the net split open and from it Klara leapt, shoving Mary out of the way of another net and tumbling towards the well. Mary coursed with adrenaline but her limbs were jelly, unable to stand. Klara had no such problem. The instant she was on her feet she turned to the figures, grizzled men in ramshackle armour with clubs, four of them, circling round her. One of them stepped closer and then Klara became a whirlwind, furious instinct taking over as she swung her blade and forced the men back, splitting their group up and then began cutting her way through them. Shrieks followed each swing of her sword and Klara danced between their clumsy clubs with ease.

Whilst she fought however, more figure emerged onto the streets and one on horseback came galloping down to the square, pulling on the reigns to halt the horse by Duncan, still struggling in the heavy net.

“Oh no!” Mary gasped, stumbling to her feet and running with her heavy sword towards the helpless farmboy.

Several men stepped in her way, clubs at the ready whilst the rider reached down and lifted the squirming Duncan onto his horse, swinging him across the saddle.

“Agh! Let me go you bastards!” Duncan screamed, wishing he could swing his axe and defend himself instead of feeling like a sack of potatoes.

Mary tried to help him but she could barely lift the sword, let alone fend of the bandits in her way.

“Let my friend go!”

They laughed in her face as the rider turned and rode off, taking Duncan with him.

“Mary...!” he wailed till his voice was distant.

Then the bandits decided to take down Mary, five of them closing in, cautious only because of the clumsy way she swung her sword about.

“Stay back!” she spat. “I mean it!”

Again they laughed but it was cut short this time, literally, as Klara flew into them sword first, swinging it madly. At the sight of their companion's head flying through the air as well as the other four men in pools of their own blood by the well, the remaining three turned and fled.

“Run, we can't take this bitch ourselves!”

Klara did not stop though and gave chase but her burst of fighting had taken its toll. After weeks of being trapped as a crow, her stamina wasn't quite what it used to be. Tired, she was unable to keep pace for long, stumbling to a halt at the village edge where a dirt road wound off into the nearby rocky hills.

“Damn...it...” she cursed catching her breath, unable to glimpse the rider who took Duncan. “Shit!”

She returned to Mary in a march, stern faced and cleaning the blood from her sword.

“They took Duncan and I didn't see a trail to follow...” she informed her bluntly.

Mary was slumped by the well, ignoring the bodies, with her heavy sword in her lap.

“Gods...you were so brave. Truly. But I...I was useless...” she muttered.

Klara took a deep breath and knelt beside the princess, placing a hand on her shoulder, prompting her attention.

“Mary, now isn't the time...we need to get moving.”

“We know where they took him!” said a voice from nowhere.

Mary and Klara twisted round till they realised it had come from the well.

“What the hells...” Klara said, readying her sword and approaching. “Who goes there!”

A thin, trembling hand rose out of the well, pleading for mercy.

“We're innocent!” croaked the voice again.

“Come out of there, now!” she barked.

From the well a young gaunt man pulled himself out, soon followed by two young women. All thin ragged folk, caked in mud. No armour or weapons, just sacks of clothes tied into clothes. They stood with their hands raised, frightened.

“You're the people of this village?” Klara asked, keeping her sword raised.

“Yes...But you're a hunter? One of the Warden Sisterhood...”

Finally she nodded and sheathed her sword, Mary standing up beside her. Only then did the trio let their tired arms fall.

“How long were you hiding in there?” Mary asked them.

It was the young man who continued to talk, scratching his short shaggy hair and unkempt stubble.

“Since this morning...we hid in it last night too, when the bandits first attacked but we tried to come out this mornin', to find food or escape but then they returned just as yourselves arrived.”

“So who are they?” Mary enquired further whilst Klara went to gather her bag of supplies, dropped during the fight. “These bandits.”

“They're in Nadyla's band,” he told Mary, shivering as he said the name. “She came to us only a few weeks past, with all her fighters, must've been a dozen or so. Claims that she'll protect us so long as we pay her fee.”

“Her fee?”

“Aye miss, a human sacrifice to sate her appetite. Once every week...Didn't take a great thinker to realise the village would be near empty after a year of such an arrangement. So we asks, what's we need protection for and she says...the cheek of it! She says, “Protection from me of course”...the fiend!”

“So you did not agree?”

“Oh no miss, we agreed at first. We had ruffians and criminals, thought they could sate her appetite whilst we sought out a solution. That was well enough and we found time to hire a mercenary, proper fearsome one too, went off to their lair, promised to kill the leader and disband her lot.”

“But they attacked anyway.”

“No, trouble didn't start until we was through with criminals to offer. Cause then the bitch set her eyes on the healer's daughter, Tamara...sent men to demand we sacrifice her. Healer refused and it were hard to argue so we all sided with him, hoping the mercenary would do her job. But next thing we know, the whole band struck in the night, taking everyone they could grab. I hid with my sisters in the well whilst everyone screamed...and...”

“You need not say anymore. I am sorry for what happened.”

“Sorry?” he replied to Marry, scratching his chin. “But it weren't you to blame. It's that Nadyla! And that good for nothing mercenary!”

Whilst he cursed and spat, Mary felt Klara tap on her shoulder.

“We must get going,” Klara said, plainly.

“Yes! Please, tell us where they took our friend and-”

Klara pulled on her shoulder, spinning her about.

“No Mary. There's no time for a rescue. My Sisters are in grave danger and I cannot delay any longer in reaching them.”

“But Klara...Duncan, he is our friend!” Mary protested, aghast. “You cannot just abandon him! He saved my life and he came with us, to help your Sisterhood!”

Klara sighed, hefting her bag onto her shoulder.

“I explained the risks before we left. It might be already be too late for Duncan and even if it isn't, taking on this Nadyla won't be a simple task. We could wind up dead ourselves.”

“But we have to try! For Duncan and for these people!”

“My duty is to my Sisterhood,” growled Klara. “They need me.”

“And these people need your Sisterhood but there is only you. So are YOU going to help them or not?”

Klara wavered, her bottom lip trembling. Calmly she pushed passed Mary to the trio.

“Tell us then,” Klara began. “Where might we find this Nadyla...?”

Duncan's limbs were stiff as rock by the time he found himself unable to wrestle with the net anymore, having kicked and punched the entire ride. Despite his shouting and swearing, the rider gave him no response. Suddenly he was becoming quite afraid. All the stories he had heard about the Throneless lands, how dangerous they were...it was all true.

The hot sun did not help, the heat draining him of his precious energy and he was almost relieved when he found the sun was obscured. Hooves clattered not on dirt now but on rock, echoed deep, as they trotted down through a large deep cavern.

“Where the fuck are you taking me?!” snapped Duncan, squirming again. “Just let me go!”

Again no response came. Duncan could only hope Klara and Mary would come after him though he doubted they would even know where to start looking for him. The Warden Sisterhood are supposed to be talented trackers but Klara was just a novice so far as Duncan could tell. It did not bode well for him.

“What do you want with me?!”

The only response he got was the horse coming to a halt, the rider dismounting. Sounds filled the cavern here, hushed voice and the sound of heavy boots on stone. Something else as well...a churning sound.

Duncan was pulled off the saddle and tossed to the ground, the hard landing winding him and bruising his shoulder.

“Agh!” he yelped in pain before being dragged across the cavern floor.

Around him he could see a makeshift armoury, racks and chests filled with weapons against the cavern walls, supplies for the bandits. There were sacks of grain and provisions too, nothing unexpected fro a band of thieves. What he saw next though, made Duncan almost scream.

He was dragged in front of a towering seat, carved out of the rock surrounded by weapons and trinkets. Sat upon it was a twisted creature. Half woman, half snake. Her pale upper body was slender in waist and neck but her chest and hips were quite plump, exposed bare for all to see. Not that they could distract from her yellow eyes, a reptile slit peering down at Duncan with hunger in its gaze. A forked tongue slithered from her dark green lips whilst she ran a hand through her short black hair, slicked back behind her ears. Her human upper half was notable but nothing compared with her snake half.

Her tail was long, a few dozen feet and thick, covered in shimmering green scales. It coiled and looped around her throne and the surrounding rocks, the tail ending on the floor in front of her. Most unsettling off all however, it was filled all along with various human shaped bulges. The bulges got softer towards the tip of the tail, squishier, jiggling and rippling from the motion of the rest of the body. There must've been dozens inside her. Perhaps most of the village. All of it groaned loudly, digesting the poor souls inside who gave muffled moans and pleas, squirming endlessly, hoping for a reprieve.

The smirk on the Naga's lips did not suggest one would ever come.

“A prize for me?” she said, amused at the sight of Duncan. “He wears good armour and clothes but smells of soil and hay. A farmboy, too plump for these lands. He's from the north.”

Duncan was shocked and wanted to protest but her hungry gaze kept him quiet. After everything that had happened, he felt like nothing other than a young farm boy hiding beneath his bed. Except here he was alone and helpless.

The rider who had carried Duncan stepped forward and cleared his throat.

“He came with two others. A Warden Sister, I'm sure of it and some other lass, though she was no warrior,” he told her.

“A Warden Sister? Been many years since I fought one of them. Not particularly delicious but they do squirm...”

Duncan was shaking, a sweat breaking out as the naga spoke, fear gripping him tightly. Beside him the rider knelt.

“Nadyla...there's bad news. This Warden...she cut down five of our men.”

Nadyla finally took her eyes off Duncan, turning to the rider.

“Five? Oh dear...that puts our entire number down to six.”

“We can still pull off the plan. We'll populate the village as a front, nabbing the traders and merchants that come through.”

“With just six men...”

“It can be done Nadyla, I swear!” he promises, desperation in his voice.

“Perhaps but what of this Warden? She already cut down five. What's to stop her cutting down six more?”

“I...eh...”

Nadyla laughed then, making the rider pause.

“Fools. She won't know where to find us. We'll wait till she gets bored and moves on then go take the village as planned.”

“And...if she stays? Waits us out?” the rider asked. “What then?”

“Then? Then I'll deal with her myself but you'd best hope I don't have to or I'll be looking for someone else to become captain of my band. Understood?”

“Aye,” said the rider and captain.

“Now strip him and put him in with the others,” Nadyla said waving her hands. “I'll be hungry soon.”

Without another word the captain stood up and dragged Duncan again, down a small slope towards a group of bandits round a campfire. Nearby was a metal cage, the bars planted into the cavern walls, forming a prison out of a small inlet. Other men came to help the captain, clubs in hand. Duncan saw them reaching down to remove the net and decided to make an escape. As soon as they pulled the net off, he jumped, flailing his arms and kicking. He managed to knock one man back but the others soon planted their boots in his gut, throwing him to the ground and pinning him there. As he writhed in pain, they tore off his armour and jacket, trousers and boots till he only had on his breeches. Then they opened the cage and tossed him roughly inside, scraping his arm as he broke his fall.

“Nnngh...!” he groaned, picking himself up to the sound of the metal bars slamming shut behind him, the heavy latch falling into place.

Duncan sat up clutching his arms, the cavern rather chilly and looked around the cell. A group of four cowered together in one corner, dressed in rags, Duncan guessed they were from the village. They didn't say anything, not even to each other, just sat sniffling in mutual despair. Two other captives were inside however. A skinny young woman sat alone, her braided hair catching the light as she had her head dipped in despair. She wore some raggedy clothes too but they smelled of sweet herbs. The girl was no more talkative than the others and didn't even acknowledge Duncan's presence. She was getting venomous looks from the group in the corner though and finally he heard words from them.

“It should've just been her...we should've all been spared!”

Duncan didn't even try to get involved.

The only other captive was a tall woman, lean and somewhat muscular, naked except for a loincloth and bikini top for her ample breasts. Wide hips sat upon powerful thighs and she looked like she could kick harder than a mule. Her skin was softly tanned, smooth but had quite a few scars. She wore a band around her forehead, keeping her long dirty blonde hair out of her face. Her dark reddish eyes lifted from the floor and looked to Duncan lazily.

“Welcome to the party,” she remarked, not even feigning a smile.

Swallowing Duncan shuffled towards her, grateful someone was saying something.

“Who are you?”

“Me? Hilda. These chumps hired me to slay their bandit problem,” she said, bitterly. “Halfwits forgot to mention the fucking Naga leading them. Now almost the entire village is inside her.”

“You were captured?”

“No I stripped out of my armour, handed over my weapons and willingly put myself on the menu.”

“Oh...oh god, she's really going to eat us then?”

“Unless she has a dramatic change of heart,” Hilda said to him. “Or gets indigestion.”

“I...I can't believe this.”

“You and me both kid. What's your name?”

“Duncan.”

“And how'd you get here? I was hoping you were part of some soldiers, maybe Duke's men sent to clear out the bandits...but you ain't no warrior.”

Duncan frowned, swallowing his nerves for just a moment.

“I've slain a dryad.”

“Horseshit,” spat Hilda, slapping her thigh. “You're as green as a dryad's tits but you ain't slain one.”

“I did!” he barked, straightening up to her. “She killed my family, so I put a pitchfork through her...!”

“Huh,” Hilda remarked, looking him over. “Well...want to fuck?”

Duncan nearly jumped out his skin, the anger leaving him though his eyes, wide as the moon. Hilda just laughed.

“W-what?!” he sputtered.

“Oh come on kid. You're so obviously a virgin and I would quite like a good fucking before I die, if you don't mind.”

Duncan was dumbstruck, letting his mouth hang open stupidly. Hilda crossed her arms under her bussom, squeezing her cleavage together.

“Unless of course, you think I'm too ugly?”

“Oh gods no...it's just...I've never done it with anyone and you know...” he mumbled his way along, daring not look Hilda in the eye. “...And here? In front of...everyone?”

“They won't mind,” Hilda sat, sitting up onto her knees. “And besides, it won't be half as humiliating as being swallowed whole and turned into a big steaming pile of shit.”

“Oh gods...” Duncan said, doubling over, feeling queasy at the thought.

He then felt Hilda's hands on his shoulders, pushing him onto his back.

“Wait...What are you-”

Hilda put a finger to his lips and straddled her thighs over his hips.

“Ssssh...Just enjoy yourself and-”

They were interrupted by the heavy metal clang of the bars, two bandits stepping in and marching towards the girl sat by herself.

“Time for Nadyla to have her prize...” one said, grabbing the girl, who didn't even attempt to struggle.

With ease they lifted her and carried her out, slamming the door behind them. Hilda and Duncan leaned to the bars, peering out and watching as she was carried up to Nadyla on her throne.

“I don't think I can watch this...” Duncan said, leaning back, feeling sick.

“Best get a good look. It's going to happen to all of us,” Hilda told him.

Nadyla licked her lips and leaned forward, reaching down and gripping the girls shoulders. They could hear the girl sobbing, her body shaking but she still didn't try to resist the naga.

“Oh Tamara...” said the Naga. “...I've been waiting to sample you for so long...”

She drooled over the girl, soaking her dress. slipped her tongue out and began licking her face, sampling her like a treat. Duncan was about to look away when the naga's jaws spread open and plunged over Tamara, swallowing her up to her chest with ease, the bulge of her lodged in the naga's throat.

“Fuck...” murmured Duncan, stunned and now unable to look away.

A loud gulp echoed through the cave and Tamara went in up to her hips and then the naga lifted her head back, tossing the girls legs into the air. One final swallow followed and Tamara's feet slipped between those lips and down she went, sliding through the naga's human middle and straight down into the tail where her distinct bulge merged with the dozens of others that filled the snake belly, her form lost in the writhing mass.

“UUUUUURRRP!” roared Nadyla in a terrific belch ringing out through the cavern, spitting Tamara's sodden dress onto the floor, earning a whoop and clap from her bandits.

“She just ate her...just like that,” Duncan said. “How can they be so casual, taking their lives?!”

Instead of an answer, he found himself once more thrown onto his back and Hilda resumed her position, straddling his hips, rubbing her crotch against his, his cock hard against the fabric of his breeches.

“Hilda...I can't just-”

“You can just shut up kid...we haven't got any time to waste!” she said, tugging down his breeches and sliding his firm cock up under her loincloth and into her slick wet pussy.

“Nnngh!” moaned Duncan, barely able to comprehend the sudden arrival of ecstasy, his whole body shuddering in unexpected pleasure.

“That's it!” cried Hilda, rubbing her tits together, bouncing her hips up and down on his cock, pumping hard on it. “Mmmm...I need this! One...mmm...last....time...!”

She felt his hands one her thighs, keeping her steady as she he began thrusting, banging against her sex. It was some of the crudest humping she'd ever had but in that moment, it felt so good.

Lost in their bliss, they were startled by the metal clang of the cage door again.

“Times up, Nadyla's hungry again,” a voice said, the pair of bandits arriving and grabbing Duncan by his arms.

Hilda raised a fist but was promptly smacked down by a club to the face, bruising her cheek in in instant.

“Fuckers...” she coughed, spitting blood.

“No...please!” cried Duncan, flailing as they dragged him out naked from under Hilda across the cell, letting him peer through the bars to the nearby seat where Nadyla waited, drumming her fingers on her gurgling tail, right where Tamara was surely squirming inside.

“Sorry kid...I guess I'll see you on the other side,” Hilda said as he was brought up to Nadyla.

“Shit, shit...please, not this!” he screamed, lashing out with his feet.

They dumped him in front of Nadyla and before he could attempt to flee her tail whipped round, wrapping him in its thick, warm coils, the bulges of previous victims squishing and writhing against him from within her.

“Uuuugh...oh gods...” he muttered, lifting his head to look at her, towering over him.

Drool dripped from her wet lips, spattering onto his face.

“You look really delicious,” she said, her belly giving and eager growl. “For a farmboy.”

“Please don't eat me!” he cried.

Nadyla just laughed in his face, spit spattering over him.

“Oh and you're sweet too!”

“No, I'm not, I am-MMMPH!”

He was silenced, his head plunged into the darkness of her maw, his face squished into her palette and then swallowed down into her tight, hot throat. Every inch of his head was already drenched in saliva, his screams muffled against the soft fleshy squeezing him. He could feel her coils relax around his body outside, right before her hands grasped his ass, shoving him deeper down her throat. The sounds of churning and groaning grew louder, muffled voices rippling through the fleshy walls and the stench hit him like a ton of bricks, suffocating him in its foulness.

Another deafening gulp filled his ears and she swallowed up his waist, his cock slapping against her bottom lip where her tongue slipped out and wrapped around it.

He groaned and writhed all the harder for it but she didn't stop, stroking him off with her tongue. Much to Duncan's shame his cock didn't resist as much as he did, keeping hard and throbbing with pleasure. It only took a few seconds till his body convulsed and he shots his load over her lips, her tongue greedily lapping it up. He didn't stop struggling but felt everything twist as she raised her head and pointed his legs to the ceiling.

“GULP!”

She swallowed and gravity tugged on him hard. No longer lodged between her lips he felt himself plummet through the tight throat, down towards the stifling heat below. Duncan felt his lips slide between her lips and join him in the tight fleshy tubes. Now all of him was inside and racing towards the digesting mass below. In the dark he felt a tight opening squeeze him, feeding him out into a slightly larger space where he pressed against someone's slippery, naked body and was hit with the incredible heat of the stomach. Here his ears filled not just with the gurgling and groaning of the stomach but the cries and sobs of dozens trapped all throughout her tail, crying in pain and anguish.

Duncan started squirming, pushing against the strong stomach walls around him, feeling juices coat him in the darkness. Instinct drove him on but he knew there was no escape. It was like Hilda said. Swallowed whole, turned to shit.

“Damn,” spat Hilda, leaning on the bars, watching the young man's bulge drift down into the tail with all the others, squirming harder than most for all the difference it made.

Nadyla belched again, stroking the bulge of Duncan and smacked her lips with a smile. Apparently he had been extra tasty. Filling too for only moments later, the fearsome naga drifted into a nap, to digest some of her gigantic feast.

“Greedy bitch,” Hilda cursed, sitting back, thinking about Duncan. “That kid wasn't half bad for a first timer.”

Just as she was readying to resign herself to a few final moments of joyless waiting before her fate she glimpsed a shadow in the corner of her eye. Up on a rocky shelf near the cavern ceiling, she glimpsed a woman crawling silently along, sword strapped to her back. Her dark armour concealed her well enough in spite of the red uniform beneath but her pale skin and shaved scalp did her no favours. She was perfectly quiet though, disciplined in her sneaking as she made her way round above the bandits and satisfied naga. There was no mistaking her. Hilda knew this young woman was a Warden Sister.

“Maybe it's my lucky day after all...” she thought, smirking and already spinning wheels in her head.

Patiently she waited till the Warden navigated all the way around and dropped quietly onto the ground outside the cell. None of the other captives noticed her and so Hilda leaned through the bars and whispered to her.

“About time someone came to my rescue.”

“Not just you. I'm looking for a young man, named Duncan...is he here?” she asked in hushed tones, her eyes darting about the cell behind Hilda.

“Afraid you just missed him...” Hilda said, pointing to the most recent additional bulge in the naga's reptilian gut.

“Damn it!” the Warden hissed, turning back to Hilda. “You the mercenary? You can swing a sword?”

Hilda had to hold back a hearty laugh.

“Swing? I can make a blade sing!”

“What's your name?”

“Hilda.”

“Klara. Here.”

Klara passed her a sword she'd lifted from the bandit's armoury, a dull blade with a long hefty blade.

“What the fuck's this hunk of shit?” Hilda gasped, clutching the sword.

“All I could get. Feel free to use your fists.”

“Hargh, hargh. Now let me out.”

Klara nodded, reaching for the cell's latch.

“You take the bandits. The naga's mine.”

“Deal,” Hilda said without hesitation.

There would be no stopping the noise when they swung the door open so they both made sure they were ready. In unison they nodded to each other and Klara pulled hard on the door, swinging it open and letting Hilda launch forward, running towards the bandits huddled by the campfire nearby.

“What the-gggrch!” the first badnit said before Hilda split him in half with the heavy blade, kicking his guts at the remaining five men and swinging after them. Klara didn't know if Hilda could take them all but it'd buy her the time to kill the naga and free Duncan.

Nadyla was waiting though, awake and furious, slithering down the slope towards Klara with a curved sword in hand.

“So my captain told it true...a Warden in my realm!”

Nadyla swung and Klara brought her blade to meet the blow. The naga was mighty and Klara had to dig her heels to stop herself being toppled over from the force but as soon as the naga drew her blade back Klara dove right through her next swing, slashing the naga's ribs and landing behind her, stumbling into the trinkets around the stone throne.

“Aaaaaaagh!” wailed Nadyla, flailing about, clutching the wound in her side, blood oozing down her pale skin onto her dark scales. “You little gnat!”

Nadyla spun, first with her tail, which Klara ducked under and then with her scimitar. Klara blocked it again but this time her footing was poor and the force sent her sword flying from her grasp.

“Shit!”

Klara steadied herself as Nadyla descended, her drooling maw agape, her sword ready for another swing. The Warden pulled a lightweight chain from her belt and swung it at the naga's arm, wrapping round it like a whip and after a hard tug, forced her to let go of the blade. The naga screeched in pain but shifted its whole body weight, tugging the chain and pulling Klara forward, flat on her face.

Spitting blood, pouring from her burst nose, she leapt back to her feet just before the thick coils wrapped round her, squeezing her hard.

“Nnnnggh!” she grunted, arms pinned to her side whilst the naga's tail tightened, pressing the writhing bodies inside against her.

“Agh...nice try...ngh...but I'm afraid you're going to be joining your companion!” Nadyla told her proudly, stretching her jaws open over Klara's head, giving her a good long glimpse into the dark cavern beyond.

There was a dagger tucked into her belt, if only she could reach it...

Hot blood sprayed Klara's face, blinding her. She opened her eyes to find the naga puking blood, a heavy sword wedged in her chest, bursting forward. Nadyla's muscles relaxed then and her whole body slumped, dropping Klara to the floor.

Hilda emerged from behind Nadyla, letting go of the heavy sword's hilt. The six bandits lay dead by the campfire, a mess of gore.

“I thought you were supposed to kill the naga?” she said, helping Klara to her feet.

“I was just about to. You robbed me of that kill.”

“Sure, bet getting wrapped in her tail was all part of your cunning plan...”

Klara brushed Hilda aside and knelt down over the tail, drawing her dagger. Carefully she slit open the naga's belly, whilst Hilda watched nervously over her shoulder. Hot blood and guts spilled out, letting Klara reach in. Her hand reached around until finally it tugged and pulled out a young horrified girl, her skin red and itchy but pretty much unharmed. Hilda lifted her away whilst Klara reached in again and this time, pulled out Duncan, shocked but still concious.

“...Klara?!” he said, his voice cracked.

“It's me. I came to rescue you.”

“But I did the actual rescuing,” Hilda said from behind her. “Just so we're clear.”

“Feel free to go back into that cell, I'll happily lock you inside,” Klara replied.

“Thanks...” he managed, exhausted.

“You're welcome kid,” said Hilda. “Now let's get these other folks free and back to that damned village.”

“What about Mary?” he asked.

“Back at the village, protecting the survivors,” Klara explained. “You'll see her shortly. She'll be glad you're okay.”

Mary sat on the well, sword resting in her lap. It still felt heavy and she dared not pick it up in-case she dropped it yet somehow, she still felt a lot safer with it than without it. Behind her the three survivor's drank from the well and ate what little food had been left by the bandits. After a while the brother of the trio came to Mary with a cup of water.

“You must be thristy,” he said.

“I am thank you,” she said taking it. “I am afraid I must apologise, for I never asked your-”

“It's Alan. No fretting over it. You are...?”

“Mary.”

“Like the Princess of Candora?”

“Uh, yeah...I'm named after her. I'm, eh, from Candora myself.”

“That's a long way to travel to reach these lands. Why come here at all?”

She sipped on the water.

“I'm helping Klara. She's trying to help her sister who have journeyed south.”

“That's very brave of you. Especially since...”

Alan paused, anxious.

“Since what?”

“I hope you don't mind me sayin' but you don't seem all so capable as her.”

“I'm not,” admitted Mary, sighing. “I never held a sword before until a few days ago.”

“Then it's all the more brave of you to help the Warden.”

“Brave? I fear it is foolish. I am not sure I have any place wondering around here.”

“Don't beat yourself up Mary. Nobody has it easy this side of the mountains. It's hard living for all...even when bandits aren't threatenin' your lives.”

“Then why live out here in the Throneless Lands?”

Alan shrugs.

“Lived here me whole life. Maybe now we'd go north, over the mountains but with the wars starting there, we've no want to risk everything for nothing.”

“Wars come and go,” Mary said, thinking of her home, now so far away. “My father always say so.”

Alan doesn't seem even remotely convinced.

“Not these. These are for blood. The Princess of Aruba was kidnapped. Some say by Saxum.”

“Kidnapped...?” Mary responded. “How did you hear of this? Is it true?”

“True as any rumour the traders bring from the north.”

Mary drifted into her thoughts. Somebody had kidnapped her in the same time someone took the Princess of Aruba. It couldn't just be a coincidence. The centauress and harpies had meant to bring her to Saxum, maybe someone there is behind the plotting. Mary wished she could learn more but it was nothing to go on but a rumour.

Her ears perked up to the sound of galloping and Mary leapt to her feet, grasping the sword.

“Fetch your sisters and hide, it might be...”

Klara rode round the corner, on the horse of the rider who'd taken Duncan.

“Klara!” screamed Mary in relief.

The Warden smiled back and promptly dismounted, revealing an exhausted Duncan on the back of the horse, his hair more of a mess than before whilst his armour looked hastily put on. Importantly though, he seemed unharmed.

“Duncan! You're okay!”

He took smiled and Klara helped him down, just in time for Mary to rush forward and embrace him.

“We were so worried!”

“Yeah, betting I was a lot more worried...” he jested, glad to be back.

“So these are your friends, huh?”

Mary let go of Duncan and looked behind him to the tall blonde mercenary. She was dressed in her own custom fitting armour, a hardened breastplate and leather skirt with comfortable sandals for her feet. Two broad swords with golden hilts hung sheathed at her hip, their scabbards decorated in strange runes.

“Who is this?”

“Hilda,” said the mercenary, with a bow of the head, looking Mary over suspiciously.

Behind Hilda, coming up the road was about a dozen villagers, the only one's who had survived Nadyla's belly. Alan rushed to them without hesitation, his sister's coming too to help those mildly injured from their time inside the naga.

“What of the others? Were there not more?” Mary asked.

Klara shook her head, grimly.

“No. Not everybody was as lucky as Duncan.”

Duncan looked to the others, knowing their pain, still all too fresh for himself.

“What'll they do?” he asked.

“Rebuild. Move. Not our problem,” Klara said. “I've my mission to the south. I hope it's still OUR mission.”

Mary nodded.

“You know it is.”

Duncan turned from the villagers and looked to Klara.

“Yeah...I owe you. I'm with you to the end,” he said, managing a smile.

“Good, then I'll gather some supplies and we can set off at once, whilst there's still a few hours of-”

Hilda stepped toward Klara, putting a hand on Duncan's shoulder.

“Wait a minute. What's this quest you're on about? Have need for my blades on it?”

“My Sisterhood are on a grave mission in the south and need all the help available. I'll gladly have yours, you can truly fight,” Klara told her proudly. “But we can't pay you.”

“Don't need coin. Just need something to do. Seems this could be a laugh.”

“A...laugh?” Mary responded, concerned.

“Damn right!”

Hilda laughs and before Mary can protest Klara grasps her arm.

“Come on, we'll go get our provisions,” Klara says, leading Mary away.

Alone with Duncan, Hilda leans down and whispers in his ear.

“Guess we can finish our little rut now, eh?”

Duncan goes all red and again, Hilda bursts out laughing.

Far above where the cool air hangs lazily over the stretch of grasslands, a powerful fluttering carries a shadow on the wind. Black feathers and hungry eyes, Leeana looks down, fury burning deep inside her, right in the pit of her growling stomach.

“I'm going to have that Princess if it's the last thing I do...”