Diablo 2: Prodigy

Diablo 2: Prodigy (Chapter 3)
written by Lady Jasmine (ladyofjasmine@gmail.com)

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L. Jasmine's note: Let's continue on, shall we? I'll be slowing down the writing a little bit with each chapter as I'm working on a few other things at the moment. With any luck, this story will be done within 3-4 months If not, oh well, worse things have happened.


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Chapter 3: Plague and prayer

***


There was cold and dark gnawing pain burning in her chest. She couldn't escape it, it threatened to snuff the life out of her leaving not a trace of her soul or existence behind. She was not longer safe.

She suddenly found herself sprinting through the forest, barefoot. Tree roots seemed to sear her feet as the brambles tore at her clothes, arms and legs. Blood was drawn in thin lines as the thorns scratched at her mercilessly.

She knew not who she was but did not blink an eye at her predicament. All she knew was that it was behind her, waiting for her to stumble in her quickened stride. She couldn't help but glance over her shoulder in response to the mind-numbing terror welling in her soul.

The forest was too thick, there was no chance she'd get away.

But she must!

Too late. She turned to find her footing lost and her body catapulting forward to a rapidly flowing stream of water. The stream was marred with jagged rocks breaking the rushing surface of the powerful river. Its roar was deafening and she hadn't heard it until now as she was about to crash into it.

Reflexively, her arms went up to protect herself as she collided into the icy embrace of the river.

Maybe she would make it, she thought as she kicked to the surface, sputtering the cold water. The water was cold, it's chill pinching all the delicate flesh of her throat.

Splash! The sound followed her. Whatever monster she was trying to escape was upon her. She could hear the swishings of the water as it was approaching her. She was too terrified to kick harder or turn around to face her thing she'd fall victim to.

Searing pain that blocked out all light lanced through her leg. It was excruciating. It burned through her leg, infecting her entire body with pain that was traveling like lightning through her veins.

It burned her inside out. She was screaming to the point that she felt as though her eyes would burst.

The cool water did nothing to sooth the pain as it further through her. She felt an icy grip around her neck as her body was being dragged hard against something solid and equally icy.

She wanted to turn her head, to crane her neck and see the face of whatever manner of evil that had death on its agenda.

But she couldn't turn her head.

Panic welled deeper in her soul, spreading to her body and sending her limbs into spasms.

"You cannot escape," the evil hissed angrily. "You cannot escape what is rightfully ours."

"Hello....!" a voice suddenly called, breaking up the pain, breaking up the river, breaking up the evil and breaking up the reality she thought she knew.

"Is anyone there?" the voice called again.

***

Voices were barely registering with her tired mind. She felt weak, tired and the cold was seeping deep into her bones to chill her and whatever remained of her soul. Her hand was flexing, feeling the soft hairs and warmth surrounding her; it felt quite nice against her skin, like a warm cocoon reminding her of home and better days.

The close smell of burning firewood was cozy and inviting. Her eyes slowly opened as the words spoken finally made sense.

"Well, who is she?" one voice demanded, slightly hushed and clearly aggravated.

She watched as a brown haired man shrugged and simply said, "I found her in the river." He didn't sound proud or victorious about it at all. He said it as though he was saying the sky was blue.

A slimly built woman bit on her fingernails as she scooted closer to a blonde haired man with brilliantly blue eyes that shone with humour. "And you found her naked too?" he nodded towards the pile of clothes nearby the smoldering campfire.

The brown-hair man folded his arms and frowned at the blonde man. "She was in a cold river. I had to get her warm."

"You could have woken me up..." the woman finally spoke. Her voice was soft, unassuming and gentle. "It isn't fair to her that you had to."

The man under interrogation sighed again as the orange-haired man—the aggravated one—nodded in agreement. "Yes, you should've woke Alys up."

Wearily, the man jammed his fingers through his brown hair in frustration. "I tried to. You fell back asleep again and Ferrum wouldn't let you go."

The woman, Alys, and the blonde-haired man, assumedly Ferrum, glanced away, embarrassed as the orange haired man continued to grill the brown-haired man.

Ferrum's blue eyes immediately met with the curious eyes of the unknown woman in the cloak and he smiled warmly, "Ah.. you're with us now."

All arguments were left hanging in the air as all four of them turned to the woman staring blankly up at them. The woman, Alys, stepped forward and knelt down as the woman shrank like a turtle into the safety of the wolf-skin cloak.

"We were worried about you," Alys said softly. "You were found in the river."

There was something about Alys that reached out to her, made her feel like she could open herself to this woman. Something... it was something. She wanted to trust this woman just because they shared the same gender.

"River?" she found her voice repeating Alys. Her own voice surprised her; she sounded and felt scratchier than she could ever remember.

The blue eyed man approached hesitantly, "My name's Ferrum, and you are?

***

Bayard watched as the beauty's eyes clouded with confusion. Everyone remained silent. Her breath was heard as her panic rose. Her eyes were darting side to side.

"I... I don't know."

Rune shook his head. "You don't know, or don't want to tell us?"

"I don't know!" she cried out, her eyes wide in terror.

The druid looked skeptical as Alys knelt down next to the woman, trying to calm her down.

"Her name is Leene," Bayard supplied.

Silence fell over the camp as all eyes turned to stare at him blankly. Spikey made clinking sounds as he marched his way over to the pile of clothes laid to dry across a log near the fire.

"It's embroidered on her shirt," he finished as Spikey picked up the piece of clothing referred to.

Alys accepted the lush garment from her beloved's golem and traced the delicate stitches. Sure enough, they spelled "Leene" in a gentle looping script, on the cuff of her sleeve. She brought it to the confused woman—sitting up and still wrapped in the cloak—for her to take.

The woman stared at the stitching. She recognized the clothes and a warm feeling of hope spread throughout her. It was a feeling of hope.

"Leene..." she said softly, testing its sound on her tongue. She repeated it over and over again in different tones and levels of volume.

The name sounded very familiar to her, but didn't sound at all right.

"... Maybe it's a nickname..." she said softly, hugging the top closer to her.

She looked up at Alys with hope in her eyes. "It does sound familiar though."

Rune scratched his jaw and looked at her. "Ok, so your name is Leene. What were you doing by the river?"

A thoughtful pause fell over the entire camp as Leene tried to recall the past few hours. She kept drawing up a blank. As far as she knew, she didn't know of any river, she didn't know where she was and, until a few minutes ago, she had no clue what her name was.

"I don't know."

Bayard coughed. "I heard a scream. She was in the river when I got there."

Leene's eyes turned to quietly study her saviour. He was handsome with somewhat classical features. He would've had a stern mouth if it weren't for the pull on one corner of his mouth—most likely from smiling. He had rich chocolate brown hair that hung loosely past his ears yet too short to tie back in a queue. His eyes were a dull grey, like tarnished metal. He had an overly bored air burnished into his eyes; it was possible he had seen too many horrors in the world and grew weary of it.

She watched, enthralled as he sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. He had graceful looking hands with strong looking fingers. For some reason, watching his hands made her want to blush. In her mind, fragments of some hot memories flooded her, raising the temperature in her body. The increase of temperature combined with the insulation from the soft cloak provided made her a veritable inferno of sensuality and need.

She did not like that.

"You found me," she blurted out.

Bayard nodded.

"How come only you heard me?" she asked. She wanted to know more about him and that was all she could think to ask.

"I was on watch," he said stonily, not liking the way her line of questioning was going or what her tone suggested.

"Oh."

Silence fell over the camp again and Alys was the one to break it. "Um... we should probably all—" she emphasized the word "all" and glared at everyone at the campsite. "—introduce ourselves." She clasped her hands together and smiled. "I'm Alys."

"Ferrum, again," the blonde standing next to Alys said with a friendly half-wave.

The orange-haired man standing behind Ferrum said nothing.

"That grumpy guy is Rune," Bayard supplied, shaking his head.

"I am not grumpy," he snapped.

"Surly then," Bayard corrected, earning Rune's glare.

"Crabby," Ferrum offered up thoughtfully.

"Cranky," Alys supplied.

Rune sighed and shook his head. "You too, Alys?"

The traitor smiled sheepishly and shrugged her delicate shoulders. "You guys are a bad influence."

"My name is Bayard," he interjected as Rune scowled at Alys.

Leene's heart doubled in tempo for a brief moment. Her eyes widened with some recognition. For some reason, her body responded to that name but she had no clue why.

"Do..." she hesitated, shaking her head. "Do I know you?"

Bayard paused, shaking his head. All eyes were glued on him and Leene as they stared at each other curiously. To Bayard, she did look like someone he may have seen before, probably passed by in a market. Pity given how striking she was. Leene was something that would make any artistic soul swoon, and it just so happens that Bayard possessed that.

"I don't think so," he answered slowly, his mind working to place her face to a location. "I've been to the villages here before, but I don't remember you."

"The villages?" she repeated him.

"The villages of Zann Esu..."

Leene blinked. "I know that place."

Rune nodded, "Well, you should. You're a sorceress." He cocked his thumb in the direction of the sorceresses' garbs drying by the fire. "A consort to the high sorceresses' too." The royal blue of the velvety material glowed in the firelight. It's brilliant shade however was lost to Leene as the garment didn't seem to interest her.

"Oh."

Bayard sighed. "Well, the village should be about a day's worth of travel away. We should be able to return you to your people soon, Leene."

Leene nodded, thankful, but worried.

Nothing made sense, nothing at all.

***

Leene found herself wearing the butter-like velvet garb of the sorceresses. She had retreated to the confines of the cloak and had hastily dressed herself there while camp was being packed up. However, she decided to remove her undergarments in favour of going to the river shortly to wash up; her panties needed a good cleaning and the sweat of her chest had gathered around the band she wrapped around her breasts. It was not comfortable.

In the camp, voices were lively as Alys was cheerfully bundling the remaining supplies, calling out to Ferrum in teasing tones.

Rune was nowhere in sight as he had asked Bayard earlier for instructions as to how to find the sorceress villages; he felt it was important to arrive quickly to notify the sorceresses that Leene was all right and in good care.

As for Bayard, he was on his way to the river to fetch water for their journey that remained.

That thought made Leene happy but also wonder who she had waiting for her in the village. The possibility of people waiting for her made her warm.

Leene quietly gathered the cloak up and decided to take her first attempt standing up. Her body felt warmer that it had in ages. She stretched her legs out in front of her, twitching her toes in their hard leather boots.

She slowly got to her feet and took a step forward.

She fell back down, crumpling forward and letting out a high cry of pain. Her hands immediately went to her right calf.

Spikey was the first one to make it to her. The one-foot high metal golem shoved Ferrum out of the way by backhanding the hard metal greaves to continue its journey to the injured sorceresses' side.

Foaming at the mouth, Ferrum dusted himself off, walked over to the golem tending to the sorceress and knocked Spikey over with his boot. The poor metal golem was rooted to the floor as the spikes on his back securely held him in place. All it could do was flail its arms wildly.

It did not amuse Ferrum that his creature was more attached to the stranger than its creator. However, at least the golem had a good taste.

Ferrum was already inspecting Leene's bare calf when Bayard came rushing back to the campsite. He had dropped the bucket and ran as soon as he heard Leene's cry. First thing he saw upon arriving was Ferrum's hands on Leene's leg. The sight of his pale skin on the creamy expanse of her leg stirred something furious to boil within him.

Alys however didn't seem to be bothered by it.

Watching the necromancer work, t did occur to Bayard that given the way Ferrum was crouched over, all he had to do was place his foot on Ferrum's right hip and push to knock the druid over. The mental image was amusing, but in practice it would earn him no favour with anyone in the camp.

Except for maybe Spikey, who was being dislodged from the earth by its creator, Ferrum.

"I've never seen anything like this before," Ferrum quietly said.

Peering over the druid's shoulder, Bayard's breath was sucked from him. A black oozing mark was left on the woman's calf. It looked like it was a long gash slicing her calf open diagonally. It looked painful and appeared as though her skin split open to reveal the black pus that clung to it and the area around the wound. The skin was an angry red around it and seemed to weep with the first signs of infection. Beneath the smooth alabaster of her skin, black veins crawled around her calf. It was like an angry demon claw had claimed the fine curve of her leg.

Alys was herded away by the ever-loving Ferrum; he had no wish for his beloved to witness such a grotesque sight.

"But I want to help!" Alys protested, making sounds of frustration as Ferrum lead her into the forest with his arm snaked around her waist.

"Bayard... can you check on her?..." Bayard heard Ferrum ask before his voice turned to a soothingly honeyed-tone to calm his lover as his voice faded into the distance.

Bayard's eyes narrowed to small slits as it returned to focus on the unsightly wound on Leene's leg. It was not pretty at all. He didn't remember seeing it at night; it would have been impossible to miss something so heart-stoppingly grotesque.

It would also have been impossible for him to miss something he was specifically on the lookout for.

"Do you remember what you were doing out in the woods?" he asked, ignoring the wound.

Shocked, Leene blinked. She had expected him to comment on the strange mark on her leg or mutter some obscenity in response to it.

"No, I don't remember anything," she said glumly.

Her eyes turned back to the wound and it seemed to pulsate, whatever that lay beneath the dark surface of the wound crawled. A pain spiked through her leg and Leene cried again. Before their eyes, it looked as though the wound was growing, eating away further at her skin.

Bayard's eyes widened. He had never seen the plague accelerate in its growth like this before. It was disturbing and horrified him to the core.

"Ferrum!" he roared loudly.

The necromancer nimbly ran back into the camp with Alys being tugged behind him. Between the two of them, Alys was blushing and Ferrum looked a little breathless.

"What is it?" he asked, his hair a little tousled and a crooked smile on his face.

Bayard rolled his eyes. What a time to choose for romance... honestly.

"Find Rune, go with him to the village, get them to ask if there's anyone there with a knowledge of healing they can send out. Also have them beef up defenses."

"Defense?"

"Yes, defense. They will need it."

Ferrum blinked, rooted to the spot for a moment before Alys pushed him. That push was enough to run off into the forest. Behind him, the small metal golem clanked his way, following its master.

Alys stared blankly as Ferrum ran off. She turned her eyes to Bayard questioningly.

"Alys... You need to go with him," he said curtly. He raised his voice, yelling Ferrum's name again.

Like clockwork, Ferrum and the clanking golem returned. "What?"

"Take Alys with you."

"What?! She'll only slow me down."

Alys slid an angry look to her significant other. "Care to repeat that?"

Bayard shook his head. "I don't care, take her with you. She's not safe here. This plague can spread."

Ferrum said nothing as he grabbed Alys and tugged her away. She resisted however. A worried look was on her face as she shook her head.

"But Bayard, what about you?"

He shook his head. "I'll be fine. Just make sure the villages are all right."

Ferrum tugged on Alys' wrist, saying, "C'mon love, we have to go."

She gave in but didn't like the feeling of leaving Bayard alone. If that plague was contagious and could infect her, then Bayard would be infected too. By the looks of the disease, it looked fatal, it looked like it would take over and eat away at the body. Worst of all, it looked painful.

"Please take care," she called off as she ran into the forest with Ferrum, the supplies left behind for Bayard and Leene.

"I want to go with them," Leene forced out through clenched teeth.

"You can't," he said simply, reaching into his own supply pack to fish through it. "You're in too much pain right now. It takes about 24 hours to pass. But during that time, you're highly contagious."

From his pack, he pulled out long strips of some rough muslin he purchased back in Lut Gholein. He still had several yards left and decided he needed to keep at least one as a spare in case.

Tearing the muslin with his teeth, he wrapped it around her leg with the utmost care. He needed to make sure it was tight enough to not expose the wound to more air but also not too tight to cut off the circulation in her leg. It was hard to ignore the softness of her skin beneath his calloused fingers.

There was also something else that was hard.

Bayard fumbled with his pack as he stood up and walked across the campsite.

"Just relax," he said to Leene as her eyes watched him. "We can help you?"

"We?" she repeated with a strange look.

He shook his head. "I mean... Me. I can help you."

The anxiety was clear in her eyes as she watched him work. She didn't know what was going on. She didn't know who she was, she didn't know what she had done to wind up here and, ironically, the one thing she did know was that she was cursed with some horrible plague that made her leg look absolutely disgusting.

Leene craned her head to look at her leg and sighed. Bayard did a good job of covering it and while she was very thankful to him for it she still would have preferred there be no reason at all for her leg to be bound tightly.

Bayard sighed as he walked around her, kneeling down near her shoulders. He gently caressed her shoulders as he raised her upper body, allowing her weight to rest on his muscled thighs as he shuffled his knees forward to support her. His touches were intended to soothe and calm her but it did something quite unexpected; it burned her.

Warmth spread out through her shoulders, crawling its way deliciously down her spine and settling into her belly. She felt boneless under his ministrations and was certain her warmed muscles beneath his hand were putty by now. She licked her lips nervously and looked up at him.

He sighed. Her face was flushed and she clearly looked pleased while he was feeling the opposite. He hated this part but it had to be done.

"Leene?" he asked softly, taking one hand away from her shoulders.

"Yes?"

"You look beautiful," he simply said before his free hand lashed out, striking her in the neck.

Her eyes rolled back into her head without another word.

Bayard sighed, a bitter smile on his lips. He had spied the faintest trace of a smile forming on her sweet lips as he complimented her. The compliment wasn't a distraction—well no, that's a lie. It was a distraction, but it was also the truth; She was indeed beautiful.

He needed to act fast now. He set her back on the ground, wrapping the cloak into a bundle to support her lovely head. Once that was done, he moved over to his pack to secure the supplies he needed.

***

Leene woke up with a jolt, her muscles tensing as she lashed out at an unseen attacker from her dreams. To her surprise and horror, her fist barely left her side; something was holding her back.

Upon leaning forward, she realized she couldn't lean forward either. Finally she realized the bonds wrapped around her upper body; they were criss-crossing her breasts to frame them neatly, securing her hands and biceps in a small tight coil and even extending further to securely go around her waist.

Behind her bare torso, she could feel the scraggly bits of bark biting into her skin and along her smooth legs. To make things worse, her feet were dangling with no ground to settle upon.

Going through a pack with his back turned away was Bayard. He was completely oblivious to Leene's awakened state.

"What the hell?" she spat.

He looked at Leene, unsurprised by the rage and betrayal burning in her eyes. With a sigh, Bayard dropped the pack, his hand holding scraps of muslin.

"Leene, I'm sorry. I had to tie you down."

"You sick bastard!" she cried out.

He put up his hands in surrender. "No no, it's not like that," he explained softly, walking closer to her and holding her hand.

Leene's nails dug into his palm angrily but Bayard made no motion to remove his hand from her grip.

"It's for your own good," he said with barely a wince. "The pain... is great. Sometimes it is too much for you. You could hurt yourself, me, everything around us."

He hesitated as he felt Leene's nails no longer raking or digging into his skin.

It was enough of an opening for Leene to interrupt. "You could have told me."

He shook his head, "I tried that on someone else. They fought it even though they knew it was for their own good."

"Oh... a side effect of the sickness?"

"Possibly."

She craned her head and kicked her leg forward; the bandage was still securely tied around her calf. She smiled at him and nodded, wondering also if he realized the danger of leaving her legs free to dangle. It was uncomfortable having her full weight pinned up to a tree with no space to move or her weight to rest upon her feet.

"I've also took a few precautions against your magicks," he added, bending down near the tree trunk to pick up the water gourd. He kept his eyes low, not wanting to look up at her. He had noticed while he was tying her to the tree she was not wearing anything beneath her skirt. While it was a lovely sight to see, it was not something he wanted to view again while he had her in such a vulnerable state.

"I've inscribed a few runes on the trees around us," he pointed to several tall oaks with carvings along their trunks. "They should throw off your concentration as well as drain your magical energies."

Leene felt relieved. It had crossed her mind that while she was physically held back she could still hurt him with simple incantations.

Bayard's hand toyed with the rope at her wrist. "This rope should be enough... I've used it to help several other mages I've come across. It'll work on them, but I would be in trouble if you were anything but a mage," he said with a chuckle.

"Why?'

He smiled. "They're trained to be powerful, mages are not. A paladin or barbarian could break through with it with ease." He hesitated. "An amazon might if they had the proper training... they're usually trained for their agility rather than raw power."

Leene felt a strange pang of anger spark in her but ignored it. "How do you know what will happen?"

He sighed, uncorking the gourd and bringing it to her lips to drink. As she quenched her thirst, he answered her.

"It's a horrible sight and nothing you want to ever witness.... The first twenty four hours are the worst. We know what we're talking about." He lowered his head. It had been about ten hours now, and still no pain. His worst fear was that the pain of the twenty four hours would be compacted into a smaller amount with much more intense pain.

"We?" she asked, giving him a curious look.

He shook his head. "I mean, I know what I'm talking about."

"Oh... okay... is it a one time pain only?"

He nodded. "As far as I've seen yes. After that, it slowly eats away at you..."

"Eats away at me?" she repeated, a worried look in her eyes. "... Am I going to die?"

He sighed, lowering his gaze as he corked the gourd and tossed it aside. "I hope not. I've seen this plague eat at people for a year, sometimes only a week..."

When he raised his head, tears were flowing freely from Leene's eyes.

"Leene, listen," he said. "I'm going to do everything I can to help you. We're going to find what did this to you and reverse it. It's the old magical standoff: kill the one that casts. You will be fine."

The tears still freely flowed and it wasn't until she began screaming that Bayard realized she's not fully there. Her eyes still sparkled with the inteligence Leene carried but they were haunted with pain.

"I'm right here, Leene," he said softly though his words were being drowned out by her cries of agony. "I'll be here until it passes."

The pain unfurled in her head first, pressing against the temples tightly. It threatened to crush her skull. The pressure was too much that all she could do was scream to release it. But it provided no relief. All she could do was thrash against her bonds. She was barely feeling the burns on her skin as she wrestled feebly against the tree. The bark of the wizened tree rubbed against her roughly, tearing into her skin and scratching her.

Bayard had the gourd in hand again and scraps of muslin in the other. He poured the liquid into the muslin and applied the damp cloth to her forehead. He could feel the heat rising off her skin and penetrating through the cloth.

He looked down into her eyes and saw a bloodlust like he had never seen with a barbarian before; she was practically foaming at the mouth. And then the words came to accompany it.

"I'll kill you!" she screeched, arching her head forward and snapping her teeth to try and catch his forearm.

He quickly snatched his arm away from her and took a step back.

Her legs kicked wildly and Bayard sighed. He really should have tied her legs down. He knew he could easily form some sort of stake to drive into the earth and peg her legs down comfortably. However, the priority was to have the majority of her body tied.

Just then, her leg lashed out again and caught him in the thigh.

He sighed and took another step back as she screamed again. Obscenities flowed freely from her like the sweat on her brow. He had no choice but to approach her from behind the tree to wipe her brow. Even then she still made several attempts to bite his hand.

In her fevered state, her body was glistening from the sweat and her struggles. Several strips of her skin were worn raw from the ropes; the sight made Bayard wince, noting to himself next time to buy rope that was strong yet gentle on the skin in case he were to find another poor victim of the plague in the future.

He was pleased however that the ropes were holding in place; it made his job a little easier.

***

He had spent the past hour stuck in the same pattern: wet the muslin, apply it to her forehead quickly, back away before she struck. Repeat.

Luckily, the pain seemed to be ebbing away; Leene's screams had lessened in intensity and her fever seemed to be losing its edge.

There were about 10 more hours to go. Several hours were wasted when she was sleeping after he found her. He found himself doing something he hadn't done in a long time: praying. He was praying for her next few hours to be merciful and that she survived. Her spirit was too lively and she seemed too young to embrace death.

He sighed. There was a way he could take away her pain... and absorb it into himself. He wasn't sure if he could deal with it though. She was the one in the vulnerable position. If he was to take the pain, what if he harmed her?

"Bayard..." Leene suddenly said her voice very hoarse and raw.

Bayard's eyes met hers and he smiled gently at the awareness sparkling in her eyes.

"Leene... are you there?"

"It's awful," she whispered, her eyes watery still.

He nodded, making a shushing sound to sooth her sobs as he approached her.

"I know," he said softly as he reached for her hand. "You're doing great though, Leene."

The warmth of his hand was so comforting. It made her feel human. For what felt like an eternity, she felt like she was on fire, as though she were a demon being punished for too many crimes in such a long span of life. It was horrible and not something any human could wish upon their sworn enemy.

"Is there anything I can get for you?" He pumped her hand in his grip affectionately.

She shook her head, her brow puckered in pain.

"No... oh Lord, it hurts..." she whispered, choking on a sob again. "Horrible horrible feelings... I wanted to kill you..."

She raised her eyes to him, biting down on her lip. Bayard didn't look angry at all despite her admission. She wondered if he understand just how badly she had wanted to kill him. She wanted to transfer the pain to someone else. She actually saw herself digging her nails into his neck and tearing out his windpipe.

"It feels like.... like there's something in my body trying to get out," she bit out, her body tensing again as a spasm ran through it. "Argh! I...I... I feel like I should be running, doing something, screaming, killing... something!"

To Bayard, Leene sounded like a frustrated and wounded animal. She was in agony from a pain she could not escape. He didn't like seeing her face scrunch in pain, her tears flowing freely with sobs or the redness in her eyes as she screamed.

He cleared his throat and clearly sang in his rich voice to hopefully put her at ease.

"Should I approach beauty and dare to raise my eyes?
I can only offer what's on my back and in my soul.
But is love enough of a prize to give
if beauty is greedy and seeks a different goal?"

She sighed, her muscles relaxing and allowing the spasms to run its coarse. His voice was rich and refreshing to her ears. She could close her eyes and be swept away in its magic and the sanctuary it offered her weary mind and soul.

"And so I do love from afar and foolishly hope
that fate does twist her form my way;
I'll work through people and towns and spells
to find the gesture to have her say,

It is you that I love and have waited for—
all my life and I can feel it burning.
It is then that my lips can grace beauty's hand
and satisfy all her dreams and yearnings."

A strange stirring suddenly happened. Despite all the pain, the sexual awareness burned in her.

Perhaps it was her fever, or maybe just desire, but she suddenly felt a pang of longing that was foreign to her. It left her breathless and watching Bayard's mouth in utter fascination even as pain branded her soul.

"And I shall worship her hair, her lips,
her nightmares and dreams.
I do accept all of her, even the darkness,
even where her soul is ripped at the seams.

I'd give her everything she desires,
a hearth, a home, a love to hold,
every night and day of mine to live,
a companion for with whom to grow old.

The happiness would overflow and
passion would ignite whenever we touch.
Arguments of passion, courage and heat,
and tears to flow from loving too much..."

Bayard's eyes glittered in the dim light as his gaze remained firmly locked with Leene. In her pain and fever she was still beautiful. Her skin was practically glowing with the sheer layer of sweat on her body. Just watching her heaving chest as she accepted the pain sent visions of lust deep into his brain. He could feel his penis standing at full attention beneath the lacings of his pants as he watched her.

"No.." she suddenly called out softly, shaking her head rapidly.

His singing stopped.

She was sad his rich voice no longer filled the empty air of the silent forest. "Sing something else... nothing romantic... please, I couldn't bear it." She closed her eyes, fighting another wave of pain that threatened her sanity.

His gaze flicked down to her chest to see the two hard little pebbles of her nipples poking through her shirt. It made sense now. She was feeling it too...

He took a deep breath, wiped her forehead again with the back of his hand and started again, this time with a song to disgust and distract rather than attract a lover: Coy Maiden. His eyes turned to the sky as he sang, afraid to look at her in case she discovered the tent his raging cock created in his pants.

"Twas upon one starry eve
the dark-haired amazon prodigy was given life.
And was upon a dark day she announced
to never lay like anyone's wife.

She turned down the best prospects,
hoping for one more suited for her.
If she sees her future holding something great,
then I say 'tis her eyes that be in a blur."

With her eyes closed, Leene suddenly felt the vein in her neck throb with anger and absolute distaste. The song left a foul taste in her mouth that left her wanting to spit venom at Bayard. She wanted him to stop but couldn't find her voice to order him to cease.

"How strange this act of
one of the top amazon defenders.
Perhaps she prefers her mate
to be of some distorted lackless gender?"

Heat flooded her body, burning all the muscles in her body and sending her adrenalaine screaming through her veins with such intensity. Her muscles tensed as she twisted her wrists against the bonds, severing a few strands of the corded rope.

"Never shall she spread her legs
for a man who desires her so.
The softness of her breasts and womanhood,
not one man shall ever know..."

CRACK!

The bonds on one of her wrists broke. Her hand lashed out, catching Bayard's neck. The bard's eyes snapped open as he wrenched her hand away, yelling her name.

"Leene! No! Calm down!"

He realized she must have returned to her fevered state and desired to kill him yet again. He could stop her easily, but in her weakened state he might kill her.

Leene's slim legs shot out, wrapping around his waist, pulling his body to her.

Bayard barely suppressed a groan as his body—erection too—pressed up against Leene's soft body. What worsened the scenario was his prior knowledge of her not even wearing a scrap of cloth under her skirt. Just the thought of her bare feminine flesh against him with only the cloth of his pants separating it from his lust-hardened cock was too much torture.

"I'll kill you!" she screeched, her voice cracking.

A chrous of cracking sounds filled the air as all the ropes that restrained Leene were snapped. Her legs still wrapped around Bayard, she put her full weight onto him, hanging onto him like a deadly spider as he tumbled backwards onto the rough ground.

Her hands were swatting at his face now. Her nails made several slashes on his skin as he wrestled with her, trying to catch her wrists.

"Leene, dammit! Snap out of it!"

He grabbed her wrists holding her tightly. She thrashed against his body, her legs straddling his hips as she struggled. Her actions, her body rubbing against his aching sex was excruciating and—at some points—downright painful. But still he remained in his aroused state.

"I hate that song! I hate you! I'll kill you!" she screamed, thrashing her head side to side as she headbutted him in the face.

He groaned but still held his grip. He needed to calm her down, to sooth her furious side that was capable of killing him. He didn't realize how strong she was but also found it odd that a sorceress was capable of breaking ropes when other ones he had met could barely move.

""And so I do love from afar and foolishly hope..." he started singing, his words rough as he fought with her still, wrestling with her atop of him. "That fate does twist her form my way; I'll work through people and towns and spells to find the gesture to have her say..."

Her struggles lessened and the crazed look was slowly leaving her eyes as she watched his mouth again, entranced. That strange foreign burning desire returned to her and set her aflame with a different kind of fever.

"It is you that I love and have waited for—" he sang, his voice dropping lower in tones and turning into a husky and seductive whisper. "All my life and I can feel it burning. It is then that my lips can grace beauty's hand and satisfy all her dreams and yearnings..."

His eyes on her, he watched, fascinated as she licked her lips, staring at him. She was barely struggling, in truth, she allowed him to hold her wrists.

Bayard took that time to use just one hand to encircle her wrists together as he reached out his other hand to lay upon the gentle curve of her waist. Beneath his hand he could feel her hips start to move. He barely suppressed a groan as he felt her hips grind against the hardened ridge of his cock that still strained in his pants.

The simple sight and feel of her rocking against him made him forget the lyrics. He started improvising as he kept the rhythm of the song going. The song itself seemed to propel Leene further away from her anger into allowing lust and its heady sensations into her body.

""And I shall worship her face, hair," he sang, struggling to come up with words. "Her lips, her eyes and her silken skin... And invite her to do the same, accept it all... and be tempted to sin..."

The words were completely wrong, but neither of them cared. Bayard's hand was already trailing down her hip, curving over her creamy thigh and finding the wetness between them.

Leene moaned, arching her back as she felt his fingertips graze against the dewy folds of her heated sex. Her body seemed to sag against him as she obscenely gyrated against his hand.

She was incredibly wet, Bayard realized as his fingers dipped into her hot silken core. The wet heat of her silken flesh was enveloping his fingers in a slick dew. The pressure of those soft walls gripping his fingers as he slid them in and out was his undoing. All breath was lost to him as he was easily able to picture himself burying his hard length in the spot his fingers occupied while mimicking the same thrusting motions as his fingers. The coarse and curly hairs of her nether region tickled his knuckles as he wiggled his thumb until it was pressing against her hard nub.

With a moan, Leene grinded herself against his hand, wanting more pressure against her clit and intent on pressing deeper against him. Bayard felt her warmth trickle down his fingers to coat two of his knuckles as he watched her thighs tremble from the pleasure he was giving her.

Bayard could smell her primal musk and the scent of their sweat mingled; it made his cock ache. He wanted her so badly, as did she. Her actions spoke loudly once she planted one hand firmly on the bard's chest to shove him hard to the ground.

"Oof!" he grunted, his back roughly lying flat against the ground. From the force, his fingers withdrew from her pussy; He could have sworn he heard a low moan when his fingers slid out.

His eyes locked with hers as she quickly slid up his body upon her knees closer to his face. She moaned softly, lowering herself closer to his face. He didn't wait for a spoken invitation; his hands flew up to grasp her firm buttocks and he lifted his mouth to press against her the source of her desire.

His tongue slid along her wet slit in long and agonizing strokes. She moaned as he licked her. He was teasing her clit with the point of his tongue and then quickly skimming the wet fold of her labia with the side of his tongue. He knew what he was doing and he knew she was thoroughly enjoying it. She was so wet against his mouth and the taste of her only made his cock strain against his pants madly in search of solace and sex.

Leene's hands found his hair, grasping the thick chocolate locks roughly as she bowed her head. Her voice raised to a keening cry as she shuddered against his mouth. She could feel his lips closing gently around her clit, sucking it on, then teasing it with his tongue only to release it to nibble his way up and down her lips, tugging on it as he did. Her voice was frantic as Bayard's tongue snaked it, probing into her wet passageway, searching through her tight and dewy heat. She however was the one receiving what he was searching for: ecstasy.

A broken cry was torn from her. Her sweat-slicked body was wracked in spasms as his tongue crept out again, teasing her taut and hardened nub. She was still lost in her cries, her body wantonly rocked against his mouth. All her hazed-thoughts shattered in that instant as did her self-control.

Bayard lapped at her pussy as he held onto her buttocks, moving with her as she rode her orgasm to end. She was wet, delicious and reaching satiation thanks to him.

When he finally let her come back down from her rapture, she fell to the side, panting heavily with her eyes lazily rolled back in pleasure.

Moving quickly, Bayard rolled onto his knees and crawled to cover her. He pinned her legs down under his knees and clasped her wrists together in one hand.

He watched as recognition bursted to life in her eyes. Those eyes quickly burned with rage as her body responded, thrashing madly against him.

The motions of her body called to him. His cock was still aching, nigh bursting to thrust into her until he exploded—honour and decency be damned.

But he didn't. He reached up with his free hand to caress her neck gently before he struck her hard.

The endless stretch of black engulfed her as her body lay limp underneath Bayard's body.

Sighing and still breathing heavily, Bayard pushed himself off of her tempting body. His eyes drank up the sight of her body, the sweat glistening off her torso and the moisture on her soft inner thighs. He reached down and yanked her skirt to cover her exposed mound; it was too much to endure. There was no way he could continue looking at her in such a vulnerable position without taking advantage of it.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, wishing he could erase the memory of her cries and the excitement he felt upon tasting her. His body felt something akin to a fever as licked the corner of his lips to savour a scant drop of her still there.

It was only then that he did feel that fine pain coarsing through his body.

He gritted his teeth and slowly took to his feet, his eyes locked on Leene the entire time. His gaze travelled down her slim and strong body to her fine calves. The infected leg still had the bandage he had placed around it, but the tie had loosened and the area of infection seemed to pulse beneath the muslin.

He sighed. He had to tie her again, this time using wooden stakes to keep her legs down. If need be, he'd knock her unconscious for the remaining hours they remained alone.

As he tied her again with more meters of rope, he found himself praying again that Rune, Ferrum and Alys quickly find the sorceresses to protect and slay the creator of the plague; Leene's survival depended on it.

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