Chapter 10: The Chambermaid

Peter found himself in the body of a squirrel once more. By the water flowing across his belly, and the musty bog around him, he knew himself to be back in the marshlands. He returned to the campground where the striga made their initial transformation a night prior. Yet, there were no striga, or any remaining women for that matter, save for one.

On the edge of camp, where the land sloped into the dank still water, sat a woman who looked around twenty years of age. Peter recognized her from before, the woman who howled as the flames danced around her body. As she bent down to clean the chamber pots to the side of her, he could see the burns that singed her forearms.

The woman turned in Peter’s direction as he scurried and hid amongst the bullweed.S he had raven hair that was cut above her shoulders, with an upturned nose and a long neck. What caught Peter’s attention the most were her fierce amber eyes, which were further exaggerated by her ghostly pale skin. He hadn’t seen someone with such yellow irises before, let alone ones that spoke with such veracity.

She moved with a slow grace while scrubbing the pots, as to not get anything on her ragged sepia tunic. She scrubbed with an increasing frustration and her pinched nose tightened as she moved on from pot to the next, until she couldn’t hold back her tears. She looked up to the sky, as if she expected some sort of answer to come from the heavens above. But nothing came. She returned to her duties, with all of her attention focused on removing the filth in front of her with dutiful conviction.

Peter fought back the urge to get closer. He knew his cover as an albino squirrel would attract far too much attention in the marshlands, but perhaps his unusual appearance could be a point of curiosity to distract her, if only for a moment. Before he could let his infatuation get the better of him, Peter felt the firm metallic kick from a sabaton send shockwaves of agony across his belly, thrusting him out of his trance-like state and back into his regular form.

…

With a wheezing cough, Peter lulled eyes in defeat while staring back at the scolding face of Sir Luka of House Branković gawking back at him. Three foot soldiers stood in rank behind him as they all leered down in disgust at their supposed Lord.

“I see our Vojvoda is getting used to sleeping in filth, without a house name to fall back on. Sloppily setting up camp out here with my gambeson on like a common thief, cowering away as our city was sacked by those monstrosities last night. And you keep the company of imps to boot.”

“I assure you I’m no imp, those bastards take themselves far too seriously for my taste.” One of Luka’s soldiers threw a punch, making contact with Tinnie’s cheek, the force knocking him to the ground. He broke into a maddening laugh as he grabbed his face while rolling in the dirt.

“I didn’t cause this, I swear it.”

“Oh, you’re lucky only a couple of those things attacked last night, and we fended them off, or you’d be swearing far worse things on your way to the grave.”

Jakov heaved himself up and turned to face his indentured knight. “Sir Branković, I kindly ask as your squire that you show our Lord Commander the respect of someone in his position”

“Or what, he’ll have me executed? For all we know he’s in it with those Striga. You won’t have your High Priest to fall back on anymore, those things slayed him in cold blood and sucked his body dry. I say we tie him up and have him face trial for disrespecting the Zrinski name on account for his deceit and fraud.”

Jakov drew his sword. “Then you leave me with no choice.”

Luka laughed at the sight of his squire, yet he held his ground. “You should’ve stayed asleep in the dirt. I’d say you're an accomplice to this treason, but that’d imply you’d actually be capable of doing something useful.”

Jakov roared and swung his sword. Luka pulled his own and the two met at midguard. The knight overpowered his squire and he broke stance. He then used his hilt and pommeled the young boy. He dropped his sword and fell to the ground, covering his nose as it gushed blood. “If you’re lucky, I’ll forget you ever did that.”

“Leave him be and I’ll tell you where the Striga are hiding.”

Luka raised an eyebrow. “So your lardship admits to being an accomplice afterall?”

“No, but I’ve seen where they are. Their campground is only being guarded by one of them, who hasn’t turned.”

Luka paused. “Let’s say I trust you on this. If what you say is true, and we bring back one of those abominations with your help, I might just let you live, in exile of course. If you’re lucky, you can end up like your imp friend here.”

“I told you already, I’m not an imp.”

Luka ignored the creature. “But, if I find out you’re lying, I’ll execute you where you stand.”

Peter held his gaze, “D-despite what you think, I’m a man of my word.”

“Suppose we’ll find out soon enough.”

Luka motioned for Peter to march forward. He went to go help Jakov up, but his foot soldiers stood in the way. Jakov got to his feet and went to pick up his sword. Luka stomped his foot on it and glared at his squire, before releasing it enough for him to reholster it. Tinnie got into line, exaggerating his march alongside Peter. One of his soldiers went to strike down Tinnie again, but Luka waved him off. He sighed as he took his three captors deeper into the forest, and towards the bog Peter knew all too well.