Chapter 17:
Hooves and Wine: Escaping With My Satyr Wife To Another World
As the men dragged Melissa into Calzorak’s tent, a heavy wave of heat and the sharp scents of spiced wine, oiled leather, and burning incense rushed toward her.
She stumbled slightly as they shoved her forward, the chains clinking around her ankles.
When the warlord finally arrived, they turned and slipped outside, leaving her alone with him.
Melissa’s eyes locked onto him, blazing with scorn.
Calzorak chuckled as he came closer, his broad shoulders casting shadows across the hanging drapes. His voice dripped with dark amusement.
"Yes... exactly that. That look. Indescribable!" he exclaimed, eyes glinting as he tilted his head, studying every twitch in her expression.
He gave a heavy sigh, like a man savoring a meal.
"After a day filled with squabbling weaklings who pretend to be warriors, there’s nothing I relish more than letting out all my pent-up rage... in exactly the way I choose."
Melissa felt her skin crawl as he spoke and her muscles coiled tight under her patchy slave’s garb.
Calzorak’s voice dropped to an icy whisper.
"And today, I’ve got a whole mountain of rage ready to be... released."
He reached for her, grabbing her throat with a rough hand.
His fingers squeezed, not quite enough to choke her completely, while his other hand slid possessively across the coarse fur at her hips.
This is nothing. He’s just another bastard who thinks he can own me. Like Dionysus.
Calzorak leaned closer, his breath hot and spiced against her ear.
"Very good," he murmured.
"It’ll be my pleasure to turn that look into something softer... and break you."
He licked his lips.
"When I’m done with you, you’ll look at me very differently, I promise you that."
He squeezed harder, cutting off her air while his other hand was creeping lower.
And while he grinned, drunk on his own victory, he didn’t notice the soft click as her chains came undone.
Calzorak’s eyes widened in shock as Melissa’s cold, contemptuous stare changed, but not in the way he’d promised her seconds before.
Her now sulfur-colored eyes narrowed into slits, fixating on the warlord.
In one seamless motion, Melissa snapped forward, claws flashing like twin scythes.
Calzorak’s eyes flew wide as her sharp talons plunged into his chest.
Blood welled at the corners of his mouth.
Slowly, he looked down as his grip around her throat loosened, and he saw the long claws buried deep inside his heart.
"But... I’m..." he rasped.
She shoved him off her claws, sending his body sprawling across the silken cushions.
His lifeless eyes stared at the hanging lanterns above, the flickering light reflected in pools of dark blood.
"So much for breaking me," she muttered.
Melissa wiped her claws on the edge of his expensive cloak.
Before she transformed back, a weary sigh slipped from her lips.
She straightened, glancing around the lavish tent.
Gilded drinking horns, curved scimitars on stands, heavy tapestries embroidered with snakes and suns.
Next to the opulent bed, a table was strewn with half-empty goblets and rolled maps.
But a quick scan told her these maps were worthless for the mission.
"There’s got to be something useful in here..." she muttered under her breath.
She prowled around the bed and spotted a heavy chest in the shadows, stamped with the seal of Yashar.
It was locked, but she drew back one hoof and kicked it, making the metal bolt snap apart with a loud crack.
She rifled through the chest, tossing aside silk and coin until her fingers closed around thick bundles of parchment.
Her eyes flew wide.
She flipped through them, scanning the writing: troop numbers, supply routes, lists of Yashari nobles loyal to Calzorak.
And then, a series of letters detailing a planned invasion into the south of Tiberun, complete with maps and precise attack routes.
A grin slashed across her face, fierce and triumphant.
But then she froze, her ears twitching because from outside the tent, shouting erupted.
Metal clashed on metal, hoarse voices yelled orders and the blare of a horn, sharp and shrill, echoed through the camp.
She scooped up the letters and cast one last glance at Calzorak’s corpse, sprawled across silk cushions.
And with a flick of her claws, she slashed open the back wall of the tent.
Outside, the horns were still wailing, soldiers were shouting, and flames flickered between the tents.
"Okay. First, I need to get out of here. Our cart should be... somewhere back that way," Melissa muttered.
Carefully, she peeked around the corner of a tent.
Two Yashari soldiers ran past, one of them shouting.
"The spies must be around here somewhere!"
Melissa pulled back into the shadows.
"Spies...? Don’t tell me they mean..."
She ducked under a hanging banner and slipped into a narrow alley between tents, her fingers brushed the plans she had stolen from Calzorak.
"If the others got exposed... they’d probably head to our fallback point."
A beat.
"Then again..." She thought of Lucius.
"No, that fool would definitely try to come looking for me".
In the distance, something metallic crashed, someone shouted something incomprehensible while footsteps thundered through the city of tents.
"Lucius... stay where you are..." she murmured, almost a prayer.
Then she shook her head.
"Better if I find him first."
She kept moving, her body low, every tendon drawn tight like a bowstring.
But as she darted through the camp, she didn’t realize that, at that same moment, other eyes were desperately searching for her.
A gust of wind swept through Sahzarun, carrying the scent of smoke and dust.
Not far away, just a few tent rows over, two figures huddled behind a flapping canvas wall.
Dust burned in Lucius’ throat as he stumbled forward, half-dragged, half-running beside Tagunel.
"Keep going!" the halfling hissed.
"If we stop, we’re dead!"
Lucius gasped for breath, horns still blaring behind them.
He felt reminded of his last escape from the Thiasos, back in Dionysus’ world.
Voices echoed through the camp:
"Find the intruders!"
"We can’t just leave them!" Lucius spat.
"Liviana... Melissa... they..."
Tagunel grabbed his arm hard enough to make him flinch.
"If we get caught now, it won’t help anyone!"
They rounded a corner and nearly crashed into a squad of soldiers. Tagunel yanked Lucius back into the shadows, both of them pressing flat against the tent wall.
Lucius’ fingers twitched toward the hidden vials beneath his tunic.
Part of him wanted nothing more than to blow up half the camp.
Tagunel cautiously peeked around the edge.
"We head for the outer edge of camp. From there we circle back to the meeting point. With some luck, we’ll make it."
They sprinted on through the labyrinth of tents, the ground trembled faintly beneath distant marching feet.
Lucius could hear his heartbeat pounding like war drums in his chest as they ducked into a narrow passage.
WHAM!
Suddenly, he slammed headfirst into someone.
They both staggered back, Lucius nearly lost his footing.
The other figure cursed aloud and jerked upright, and suddenly, amber eyes stared into his.
"Damn it, can’t you watch where you..."
"Melissa?!"
"Lucius?!"
Tagunel, having crashed into Lucius from behind, peeked around and rubbed his head.
Melissa put her hands on her hips, breathing heavily.
But despite everything, that usual teasing spark gleamed in her eyes.
"You scared the crap out of me!" she muttered, but Lucius pulled her into a hug so tight it nearly knocked the wind out of her.
"You got away? How? Did he hurt you?!" he asked, eyes burning with concern.
She smiled, equal parts touched and amused by his panic.
"Relax, Lucius. I’m fine. Did you really think that guy could handle me?"
She waved the scrolls in her hand.
"And look, I brought us a little present."
Tagunel stared as if she’d just pulled gold bars from her pocket.
"Are those... the documents? Then the mission’s not a failure yet!"
Melissa beamed, until she noticed Lucius and Tagunel were alone.
"Where’s Liviana?" she asked, voice suddenly tense.
Lucius and Tagunel exchanged an uneasy glance.
Then the halfling said:
"She bought us some time. But don’t worry, I know her. She’ll catch up."
Melissa opened her mouth to respond, when suddenly a voice thundered behind them:
"THERE THEY ARE! STOP THEM!"
Nazirul stood at the end of the alley, his bandages fluttering, the twisted remains of his face contorted with rage, behind him, a squad of armed soldiers.
Lucius’ eyes widened.
"Run!"
And they ran, as fast as their legs could carry them, panting through dusty alleys between flapping tent walls.
Melissa clutched the scrolls tightly to her chest, while Lucius and Tagunel scrambled after her.
The edge of the camp was already in sight, but then two riders suddenly blocked their path, their lances lowered in warning.
They veered left, sprinted down another path, only to slam into a wooden palisade.
"Damn it... a dead end!" Tagunel gasped.
Melissa spun around.
"Perfect."
Soldiers were already pouring into the narrow passage, their sabers drawn, and at their rear, Nazirul.
"I want the human alive! Kill the others!" he shrieked, his voice high with rage.
Melissa bared her teeth.
"Try me, you roasted rooster."
Then the soldiers charged.
Melissa met them head-on.
She struck one with a powerful kick that sent him crashing into a tent wall.
Tagunel muttered a spell and hurled an essence vial that exploded between two attackers, flinging them backward.
"Scutodraiocht!" Lucius shouted, casting a shimmering barrier just in time to deflect a hail of arrows and magical blasts.
The barrier flared to life, vast, gleaming, unbreakable.
Nazirul’s expression froze mid-command.
Every blow, every spell, every arrow fizzled uselessly against the magical dome.
Eventually, Nazirul raised a hand, signaling his men to hold.
"You sure are powerful. But no matter how strong that barrier is," he growled, "the spell’s duration will expire at some point. All we have to do is wait."
"He’s right," Lucius admitted through gritted teeth.
"Less than a minute, and it’ll fall."
"Well... it’s been nice knowing you," Melissa quipped.
But then, a piercing snarl rang out, followed by a low, feral growl.
Something black came crashing down from above, slamming into the soldiers with brutal force and knocking three of them off their feet.
Claws flashed, steel clashed.
One man shrieked as a blur of movement swept his legs from under him.
She hurled herself at Nazirul, claws swiping in rapid bursts, driving him backward.
A tail lashed and eyes gleamed with fury.
"Liviana!" Melissa cried out in relief.
"You’re alive!"
"Not for long if we don’t get the hell out of here!" Liviana shouted back, dodging another volley of arrows.
Tagunel grabbed Lucius’ arm, the barrier was already flickering at the edges.
"Over the wall, now!" he shouted, chugging a vial, then slammed his hand to the ground.
"Talamh Cruth!"
With a thunderous crack, a mound of earth erupted, crashing against the palisade and forming a ramp.
They scrambled up and leapt to the other side.
Before running on, they turned back anxiously, but this time, Liviana didn’t make them wait.
With feline grace, she vaulted over the wall after them, panting, wounded, her fur matted with blood, but grinning like hell.
"Told you I’d catch up," she said breathlessly.
"Now get moving!"
And then they ran, into the night, while behind them, Nazirul’s furious scream echoed through Sahzarun.
"That way!" Tagunel gasped, pointing toward a narrow path between two rubble mounds.
After a time of running, while the echoes behind them grew thinner, the ground beneath their feet grew firmer, covered with packed earth and marked by deep ruts.
They now crept down a slope in a crouched position until wooden structures came into view. Shadows flickered between tents and crates, and muffled voices echoed across the camp.
They stopped behind some thickly overgrown bushes.
"What is this place?" Melissa whispered.
Tagunel blinked.
"This is Sahzarun’s supply depot. Provisions, weapons, spare parts for the riding camps. It’s our passage point, an oasis with our pickup location is just behind it."
"Then we’d better get moving before our contact leaves without us!" Lucius was about to get up, but Liviana grabbed his arm.
"Wait," she said softly, her voice unusually tense.
She straightened up and peered through the underbrush, her tail was still, her back tense.
Melissa stepped closer.
"What is it?"
Liviana said nothing.
Her eyes were wide, staring into the distance.
Slowly, she raised a hand and pointed toward a fenced-off area beyond the camp:
Wooden posts, cages, shadows, and...
Desperate voices, quiet and broken, the clinking of chains.
Liviana parted her lips and whispered softly:
"These Selvarin... I know their scent."
Her voice trembled.
"They’re from my village."
And suddenly, all of them froze.
Please log in to leave a comment.