Legends of Belariath
Trinka
Infiltration {Aided by Ahrak}
Eori shook his head for what seemed the hundredth time that night as he stood watch outside the Stronghold gates. It was pointless in his young mind for him to even be there, who would have the nerve to try and break into Gorin’s stronghold? Even half staffed, there were three legions of armored soldiers, and two legions of archers. It would be suicide for any of the petty mountain bandits to try something. That and it annoyed him to no end the way his senior officer seemed to be able to sleep on the job. Just as Eori mulled over what a horrid task he had, he suddenly blinked and noticed a couple headed towards him. He could only thank whatever gods were watching that Borax had predictably nodded off, or he would have been flogged for not noticing the two strangers walking so plainly in sight. They were both hidden by traveler's cloaks, but one was definitely stooped and walking with a cane. This close, Eori could see the long white hair that nearly hung to the ground. The other though, he could not make out at all.
“Halt! What business do ye two have here at this time of night?” Eori shouted in his most commanding voice.
The old one couldn’t even raise his head enough to look at him as he coughed and hacked into his hand, then cleared his throat as he gestured towards the other traveler and spoke in a raspy voice. “Many pardons, fair and noble sir. But at my age we could get here no sooner, and even if we sold everything, there would not be half the coin needed to afford a wagon.”
Eori tried not to grumble too loudly as the old man seemed content to ramble on about their woes all night. “Yes, yes, fine. What do you want, old man?”
“Ah my apologies... Times have hit us most harshly, and it is with a sad and heavy heart that I must sell my last daughter to your brave and noble lord. Pray! Don’t think me unkind, for the coin will help the rest of our family, and your magnificent sire could offer her a life the rest of us could only dream of...”
Eori barely heard more than a few words. For as the old one continued to babble, the other figure had parted her cloak, and allowed herself to come into the faint light of Eori’s lantern. His breath caught in his throat, and his eyes were wide as saucers. She had to be the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes upon. Swathed in only a few scraps of silk, her creamy skin lay in abundance before him... Legs that rose firm and high, a magnificent buttocks that was vainly covered by a small sash of silk, an even smaller half that fell in the front... and Eori swallowed as he could easily see no signs of curls beneath the thin fabric. Higher still he thought he would faint, for the woman possessed a bust that he had only heard of in bawdy tales, two orbs of perfect flesh that strained against their flimsy bonds, dusky nipples easily seen due to the chill mountain air. Her face was sadly hidden behind a veil of thicker material, but he could see dazzling green eyes that looked upon him with tenderness, and above that, endless locks of golden curls... She was a Goddess.
“-which is why we’re about bothering you at this unwholesome hour.” The old man finally finished.
Eori just nodded dumbly, then blinked after a few moments of silence and tried to reign in his loins. “Yes! Well very good then. I’ll just take your daughter... Take her to the slave quarters and you can go get your money.”
The old man bowed, but the daughter just nodded her head slightly, still leaving herself so exposed to him. With fumbling hands, Eori turned to open the gate, and allowed the two of them to enter.
A brief ways they parted company with the old man, and for only a moment he smirked at the thought of how the ancient one would be thrown out, asking for money with no girl in question beside him. But the thoughts didn’t last, as he pulled the girl into the first guard booth they came to, and started acting on some of his lustful thoughts. He kissed at her throat, and grabbed her large breasts in his sweaty hands. She moaned like a whore and tilted her head back as she raised a thigh in between his legs. “Tell me,” she murmured, with a voice like honey, “where... mmmm big lad... where are the slaves quarters?”
Eori grunted and reached down with one hand to undo his leggings as he continued to paw at her tit. “Down a level, don’t be in such a rush girlie, you’ll be there soon enough.”
“Pity,” she said, “I was hoping you’d have more stamina than that.” Eori blinked and looked up at her, then his eyes went wide as she swung her hand up at his head. A long needle-like bladed pierced his throat and tongue, went through the soft flesh behind the roof of his mouth, and comfortably settled into his brain. His eyes rolled back into his head, and he slumped backwards onto a stool, trembling as his body slowly died on him.
“Bloody pig...” Trinka snorted in disgust before tucking her breasts back into the thin material, and positioned the dead guard to look more like he was sleeping. She had planned to get closer to the actual slave quarters, and made a note to dress a little more next time. From the depths of her cloak she pulled out a simple shirt and some thin breeches, for her current outfit while distracting, was not suitable for combat. She then picked up her walking staff, and hurried quietly away from the dead Eori, and slipped deeper into the stronghold. Like a shadow, she crept down a stairway, only to leap over the side at the last few steps, landing quietly and ducking back around behind it. Not more than a heartbeat later, the door near the stairs opened, and a guard walked up the steps on his rounds. Trinka waited for awhile, even after the echoes of the footsteps had faded, and carried on. Peering around a corner, she saw the objective. A large metal door with a grated window, and two large eunuchs standing to either side of it. She nodded, for as she was freeing the Harem girls, Westlake was undoubtedly freeing the workmen, or so she hoped. She reached into her cloak and drew out a small dagger, and tested the weight before swinging around the corner and hurling it. A soft whisper ran through the air before it sunk home into one of the guard’s necks, and he sagged to the ground, choking on his own blood. In the time it took the other to look at his partner, then swing around to see the attacker, Trinka had already run up to him, and he barely had time to gasp before her staff swung through the air and crushed his windpipe.
Finding the keys amongst the bodies, Trinka opened the door and slipped inside. At first there were gasps of surprise, but when the multitude of women in various stages of undress learned of her intention, they all stood up quietly as she herded them towards the door. If luck was with them, they would be able to slip out unnoticed.
Luck was not with them. Only halfway up the stairs, a bell could be heard ringing, and the sounds of alarm being called out through the keep. Trinka winced, then screamed at the girls to run for the gates as she hurried on ahead of them. The guard who had passed her earlier came into view, and Trinka charged him, planting the staff into the floor and pushing down upon it as she leapt, both her feet striking the guard’s chest with a rewarding crack of bones. She landed, and ducked as a blade swung just over her head, in return her staff swung up, first connecting with a man’s groin, then swung around again to strike him upon the temple. After that, she managed to get out into the courtyard as the girls went running. Fortunately there were few guards out, for the call of intruders in the castle had most of the men searching within the walls, and flooding to Gorin’s chambers. But Trinka realized she’d have to keep the girls protected for awhile longer. The first guard ran at her with his sword held high, and she raced to meet his slash, only to twist and duck, spinning on her heel and sending the staff into his ankle with tremendous force. Rising, she took the staff in both hands and swung it up to block another downward stroke. Even though the staff was of solid wood, she winced as she saw a bit of it chip away. The next two slashes were parried away, and she was then forced gradually backwards as guards swarmed in closer to her, leaving her no opportunities to attack and barely any to defend. Fate again decided to undo her, and she tripped back over a rock and turned her ankle. She looked up, and saw the blade descending towards her almost in slow motion, and she knew she wouldn’t have time to block it.
-She wouldn’t have to. Another blade whistled in and clanged against the one that would have ended her in a shower of sparks. Trinka could only stare in amazement as Westlake strode into her line of sight, his hair flowing behind him, as did the black cloak with red lining.
Several of the guards took one look at him, and so recognizing him, turned and ran, their weapons left behind them. Those that remained circled the blind swordsman, and rushed. In a blur of movement, Westlake ended them. It was dizzying to watch, as one sword would whip into an attacker’s blade with such force and grace as to knock him back and the blade away. Westlake would turn and do the same to an opponent on his other side, and still swing back in time to slit the throat of the previous guard before he could even bring his sword back around. The air was filled with the clashing of steel, the screams of the dying, and blood gushing from wounds.
The last guard standing was toyed with, as Westlake attacked him with both swords, knocking the offender’s to one direction, only to be sweeping his other sword in to hit it another, each move planned several moments in advance before actually connecting. In a final display of superiority, Westlake spun about, his cloak distracting the guard before both swords came together from opposing sides, and lopped the man’s head off. Trinka was still staring as Westlake sheathed his blades, not even sweating, and hurriedly scooped her up into his arms as he ran out the gates. “Our new friends and I grew tired of waiting,” was all he said, with a small smirk, as he ran with her towards his horse which remained hidden out of sight. The slaves were running ahead of them, neither of them were seriously hurt, but at that moment, all Trinka thought about was settling in closer to Westlake... Before he unceremoniously threw her onto his horse, vaulted up into the saddle, and tore off back down the mountain.
"Men" she muttered.