Revenge is a Dish Best Served.....? (closed for evleah)

[dryfter]

Swill.

It burned going down his throat. No matter how much he drank of it, Calvin swore he would never get used to it. A vow made easier to keep as suddenly he found himself choking slightly and fighting to keep the fiery liquor down. The barkeep just laughed and laughed as one of his own men hammered him on the back with a smile and a chuckle of his own, earning and baleful look from beneath his tousled sandly blonde locks.

"By all that's holy, Devin....can't ya serve a man a decent enough drink for his coin?"

The burly man behind the bar grinned wider as he reached for another glass to wipe clean, the now used shotglass following swiftly in suit shortly thereafter.

"Could. But when's the last time you've actually paid me enough to clear that tab of yours, Cal? Not since your ouster, I reckon. You're lucky I still let you in here, so might be time to shut up and take what you're given."

A soft grunt came in response. He was right. There had certainly been times when he'd seen more than his share of fine bottles, vintages the eunuch before him could only dream of sampling, much less actually serving to....clientele. If you could call the people around him that.

"Look. I just gave you a payment, didn't I? Filled the job, killed the goblins, gave you a cut right off the top. So quit your complaining. Besides.....I got something much bigger than just monster hunting coming up."

The barkeep just gave him a shrewd look, tipping a bottle to one side before pushing another shot in front of him.

"Nothing that's going to get you killed, I hope. I'd hate to take a loss on you."

He straightened up then....revealing burnished, yet battered plate armor. Despite the distinct look of fatigue on his face and the smell of cheap whiskey on his breath, he made sure to keep the few things he had left well polished and maintained. Just because he wasn't a knight anymore didn't mean he couldn't remember how important such things were.

"I'm going after the Devil himself, and about damned time if you ask me. I'd tell you more about it, Devin....but you really don't want to know. There's such a thing as knowing too much, if you know what I mean."

The barkeep merely nodded silently, accepting the shotglass once his patron had drained it of his contents. The only show of emotion on his face was surprise when the man suddenly took to his feet. He had been expecting another all night bender. Whatever had gotten under the man's skin must have been more important than what he had come to escape. A long minute later, and the shield that had been leaning against the thick oak of his bar had been retrieved, and the knight turned mercenary stood once more. Well over six foot, Devin silently reminded himself that his long time patron had to at least have enough muscle to make moving all the metal that encased him look easy. Not someone to risk talking down to....unless of course....you'd known him as long as the bartend had.

The bar sprang back to its usual lively, noisy self as the last of his footsteps faded into the distance.

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It burned. It always did. Even more than the cheap whiskey he'd just downed. For a change he'd managed to not just drink away the money he'd paid on his tab. Progress was a good thing, right? Yet not drinking himself stupid left him at the mercy of his own mind, and the maelstrom of the past that whirled within.....

Every good knight needed a Lord with which to serve. And serve he did, loyally for years and without fail. And yet he had been the fall guy....and for what? Yet another shitty noble looking to cover his infidelity as he's balls deep in some barmaid, or worse......the daughter of another noble house. Scandal seemed to everywhere in the courts, and the nobility ate it up better than any of the luxurious pastries they stuffed their faces with. He had to flee in shame to escape with his life after the trap they had laid for him had been sprung.

But that had been years ago.....and he had returned, keeping a low profile and keeping his nose to the grindstone as he always did. Except when it came to him. Every time he thought of his former lord, the fire in his gut threatened to rage again, bouncing between heartburn and outright nausea.

Still....if he watched long enough....an opportunity would arise. Patience had been his companion for years, he was loathe to kick it to the curb now.

 

[dryfter]

"Got some good news for ye sir, if'n ye got the usual coin."

It was a good thing that he had deigned to part ways from the liquor. For starters, it had left him with a coin or two left in his pocket that he hadn't bothered to tell Devin about. Coin that now pressed against his the gloved palm of his fellow mercenary.

"Seems the lady o' the manor be lookin' ta take a lil' walkabout.....on her own, if ye get me meanin."

The old soldier's accent was confounding, but Calvin had been putting up with it for months. That and he was about as unscrupulous as he was....so he had made for a perfect paid dog to sit sentry exactly where he needed him to be.

"The Laird be furious, he is...what with her bein marryin age and all."

Calvin just laughed, giving the old codger a glance of white teeth, even before the man staggered slightly beneath a suddenly heavy clap across his shoulders.

"She's got more than a bit of her mother in her then. So tell me then.....where is our adventurous little maiden heading to?"

A much more yellowed, gap toothed grin, followed by an outstretched hand. Expected. With the patience of a saint, Calvin plied the old merc with more coin.

Patience. This could be the chance you've been waiting for to get back at that old bastard.

"Her horse turned North, and she wasn't riding much like a lady, sir. If ye know what I mean!"

Calvin merely nodded and let out a soft chuckle again. Most well bred women these days, if they even got on a horse it was side saddle....a prim and proper way. But according to his source, it seemed this little one actually knew how to handle a horse. How interesting.

"Thanks for the info, Thom. When I get back to town, I'll make sure you're next drink is on me, you can hold me to it."

He barely even heard the old man's reply, his armored back turned and rapidly gaining distance.

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He rode alone, as silently as he could, yet not fast enough to push the horse. He had all the skill he would need in tracking, but it would avail him naught when the land of the North turned marshy enough to threaten the well being of the animal he rode. Still...he couldn't imagine his quarry having any easier of a time. Would he recognize her if he came across her? Would she him? It had been years since he had found himself in service to her father, made longer still by the terms of his severance. He doubted very much she had been told anything about his departure, and that which might have been told, lies and deceit to make her father look the angel he so sorely needed to be at all times.

It wasn't like it mattered. He had no feelings for the girl, had barely met her a handful of times when she was younger. Had she grown into a beauty? That would certainly make things easier on him. For long moments, he wrested his mind back to the task at hand....controlling the horse and looking for signs of travel. Right now he was content to follow the dilapidated road that was the only Northern passage. However, if her father was truly as upset as it was reported that he was....there was a chance that he wouldn't be the only tracker on her trail.

She wouldn't stay on the main road for very long. Not if she wanted to try shaking her pursuers......even the ones she didn't suspect were after her.

 

[dryfter]

Why did the marsh make everything so needlessly hard? And yet just as he had begun to question his sanity, his skills, and the common sense of the target he pursued...

The trail had deviated from the shitty road he had been travelling...and he could guess why. Even now the sodden earth struggled to reform itself from where it had been gouged. Deep ruts of a heavily laden carraige or cart had passed. Fewer witnesses of her travels meant less people to speak of meeting her on the road to her father. Smart girl. It would take a bit more time than he would have liked, but Calvin slowly swung himself down from his own saddle. If he had noticed her change in path, so would a good tracker. That is...unless he took a bit of time to carefully conceal her passage. For now, the adrenaline that came with the hunt kept him going. He hadn't slept much, and didn't intend to get more than a nap or two in the days to come unless pursuit finally bore fruit. He sincerely doubted that the pampered daughter of a Lord would have the stamina to keep from resting.

Unless prompted of course. She wasn't alone out here. The marshes were lizardman territory, and he had seen enough with his own eyes to know that they were not above adding human flesh to their diet. Some even found it to be a delicacy. Calvin shuddered for just a moment....the soft flesh of a young girl. She wouldn't last long if she hadn't come prepared. Minutes stretched long before he finally finished scattering leaves after deftly sweeping the area, pressing his own steel shot boots over the tracks her horse had left. With any luck, he'd look just like any other drunken soldier stumbling away from his caravan to relieve himself. Only the most diligent of trackers would press on farther than he had gone...and even then, the bog he had come to then truly did erase any signs of passage. Still...he knew she had come this way....

The former knight found it easy to ignore the slime and muck about him once seated back on his horse. To take the stallion left and into the bog was nothing short of suicide. He could only hope that his prey knew that as well. And that left just one way to go if she planned to continue north.

Twice he swore he saw shadows around him before the ground finally began to give way to something more solid, signaling the end of the marshes hold. Were it lizardmen, they wouldn't find a soft and vulnerable target. Slowly his gauntleted hand slid down and over the bronzed hilt of his sword. Almost in response the shadows slid away as fast as he had thought he had spotted them, swiftly enough that he couldn't be certain that he wasn't just imagining things.

From there it didn't take long, a few miles at most, before the ground became rocky and craggy. It was times like these that Calvin had to wonder if the gods really knew what they were doing when they created the world, or if they had just gone about it willy-nilly like slinging paint against a blank canvas. Sighing softly into the evening sky, he took a moment to stretch his aching body. He had lost the trail...half suspected he would in a godforsaken morass like what he had just put his horse through. Leaning forward, he gave the strong creature a firm scratch behind the ears and the whispered promise of an apple and a full feed bag the moment he found a decent place for them to set up camp for the evening.

That's when he saw it...a flicker of light on an otherwise ebon horizon. A small dot that danced before his eyes that could only be flame. Not holding out much hope, instead he reined the stallion in that direction. Perhaps a fellow mercenary group out on a monster slaying quest. If so, he could barter with them for a place to lay his head tonight. He wouldn't draw too close however....not when it seemed just as likely to be bandits or highwaymen. He rode for as long as he dared before dismounting, leaving the reins bound to a scrubby looking tree as he began to creep closer. For a bright fire, there didn't seem to be much for movement.....

And then he saw her. Alia. The object of his hunt. Despite having lost the trail and his way, somehow the gods saw fit to guide his path. And what a treasure at its end....

The little tomboy of his memories had indeed grown up. The flaming red hair he remembered her father having in his many nightmares and dreams of fevered rage, flowed like fire from her scalp. Her skin accentuated even more in its fairness by the half full moonlight that bathed her in its glow as she busied herself around her camp. Calvin had to carefully control his breathing as he felt something stir, thickening inside his greaves. What a little trophy you've grown to become, Alia!

Now.....how to claim that trophy as his own.....

 

[dryfter]

The days of pursuit had paid off. As far as he could tell, he was the only pursuer now that the bloody marsh was behind them.

She lived. Somehow slipping past the roving bands of lizardmen that even he had seen shadows of, not to mention the poisonous snakes...some of more than large enough to ensure a stray human was never seen again. He shuddered to think of the other dozen ways a human could meet their end here.

Her camp was tidy, her own horse neatly reined in on one side while she poked at something above her fire. It was then that he got his first flare of alarm. He couldn't smell anything, not a single wisp of smoke from his fire. He was upwind of her! A moment later and the girl's horse raised it's head sharply, whickering in warning. Calvin held his breath, already moving, though he kept his eyes on them both. She was too relaxed, too inexperienced to recognize the warning from her animal. He was grateful for it....another stroke of luck from the gods as he circled silently to a place he'd a harder to detect. The firelight cast many shadows that would come in handy when it came to closing the distance between them. For now, he had to just concentrate on not allowing himself to be detected again. From there, he began his steady encroachment. Rocks were plenty now, however she had picked her campsite well. There was no way he could get to her without being spotted first.

For a moment he considered waiting until she went to sleep. The thought was fleeting, he wanted to see the look on her face when she realized what was going to happen to her. Wanted to dominate her from the very start and the best way to do that was to let her have every hope in the world of defying him....of escape. Then crushing those hopes one at a time.

Every instinct in his body told him that he didn't have to rush things. He didn't have to do this tonight. From here it was all too easy to tail her, but would she notice? Would she suspect that she wasn't alone? A runaway like herself had to be at least a little aware of the fact that there might be pursuit. He found himself wondering once more how she was armed. As of yet, he'd not seen a weapon, but that didn't mean a thing. Considering where she was going, it was only common sense to be able to defend one's self from the surrounding dangers. She was looking for her freedom not her death after all.

In the end, did it matter? Would he really lose one on one against this little slip of a lass? Not unless he got distracted....and there was certainly plenty about her that was distracting. A long, lusty gaze slid unknowingly across her body, drinking in her contours with a marked hunger. The more he looked at her, the more he knew she had to be his, her father be damned. The fact that it would enrage the man who had ruined his life and sent him on the run only made this sweeter.

And so he finally stepped out, her back was turned to him sure, but it was only a matter of time before she heard his footfalls and realized she was no longer alone. For now however, he did his best to remain silent and stalk his prey.

It would get noisy soon enough.

 

[dryfter]

Everything was within his calculations. Including her reaction.

Truth be told, he was almost elated that she bolted for her horse. The other option would have been to reach for a weapon and that's when things could have gotten really messy. That being said, it truly was a fine animal and he bore it none of the grudges or hatred that he held for her and her family. Despite the bulky armor encasing him, he broke into a run as well. Fear complicated things, and she was certainly afraid, her scream had proven as much. If he could reach her before she could finish untying the horse.....

How slender was her wrist? It seemed almost fragile as his thick digits closed around her, pulling hard. He wasn't about to be kicked by a possessive and frightened animal. That would put a quick end to his evening, and he had so much more planned.

"Not so fast, Miss Alia."

He didn't care if she recognized him at this point, though he doubted she would. It would only heighten her panic to know that he knew exactly who she was. Inevitable flailing and striking fell mostly with dull thuds upon this armor, though one such strike glance painfully against cheekbone. Of course just the pulling wouldn't work, but it slowed her down enough for him to grab her fully, his well muscled arms encircling her delightful body and hauling backwards as hard as it took. He almost hoped it hurt a little when the leather cords of her horses bindings bit into her fingers. She wasn't escaping him, not now that he had her. His reputation would be the last of his worries if he let go now.

"Now, now, calm down. We got all night to get to know each other. Intimately."

He dumped her then, sprawling across the hard earth. His eyes never leaving her once. Let her try and run again, the pursuit was half the fun. He only wished she could see just how aroused he was right now.

"I'm not letting you go, Miss. I've been waiting for too long for a chance like this to come along."

 

[dryfter]

"Please good sir," she begged. "I am but a girl, alone out here but not in the world. Please let me go sir, as my father....well, I know he would reward you well for my safe, intact return."

"Foolish girl."

If his immediate dismissal weren't cause for alarm, the slow reaching for his weapon surely had to be. His great sheild, normally slung across his back, had been discarded in the earlier tussle. A soft, well oiled hiss was the only audible sound is bright metal slipped from its scabbard. Her cloak had hidden much...and now that he was this close, he was drinking in the sight of her like a fine, red wine.

"I know all about how your father rewards people."

He kept his movements deliciously slow, levelling the lengh of sharpened metal in her direction, knowing she was watching it as intently as she listened. Hope still glistened in those lovely eyes of hers after all.

"Alistair Donovan."

A long pause as the silence of the night swiftly stifled any thought that they weren't alone.

"Sir Alistair Donovan. Though I go by a different name now. Your father saw to that, didn't he? And all that after I covered for his mangy ass. I should have know better....nobles always tie up their loose ends. Been on the run for as long as I can remember. Luckily, not too many still around these parts that remember me."

The flicker of recognition he saw in her eyes before perhaps grew just a little. Yet the tip of his blade had pushed aside a fold of her cloak. From this distance he could get a better look, both of what she was wearing, and what lie beneath the common clothes she had chosen in her hasty disguise.

"I go by Calvin now. Though after tonight....you'd be better off calling me husband."

The soft nicking of the first layer of fabric, its weaving parting easily before the well maintained edge of the sword.....was all the truth behind his words that she needed to understand....

"Or perhaps Master would be more fitting for you?"

 

[dryfter]

Sir.

The word made him twitch delightfully. It wasn't what she would be calling him, but it was a great start. The cloak had parted to reveal some rather uninteresting clothes, plain for a noble woman. Yet perfect for someone who had looked to get away without notice. A closer look would reveal how fine her "common" clothes truly were, more than just some peasant's linens. Not that it mattered to him, not while she was stimulating him with her soft pleas and begging. She was at his mercy, and it was finally dawning on her. It would take some concentration to not fall drunk beneath the power he felt right now, intoxicating as it was when the tip of his blade ran under her collar and found the first button that bound the precious fabric to her. For a long moment, he listened to her, letting her think in the pause that perhaps she was getting through to him.

Did she think he was stupid? If she went back to Daddy now, especially after she told him who he really was....the ends of the earth wouldn't be far enough for him to run. Part of it would be rage...the thought that he had dared to assault his precious daughter in the middle of the night. But the other part would be fear. Fear that the man he had presumed dead wasn't. Fear that all the truths that he had sought to snuff out along with his formerly faithful knight....had now come back to haunt him.

"I know you ran away from home, Alia. I know a lot about you. I've been watching for so very long after all...."

The first button fell away and suddenly more of her creamy skin came into view. Would another reveal what she wore beneath? Did she wear anything at all? Of course she did...she had to....to not wear such things would be the height of scandal. Still....Calvin swallowed hard at just the thought. Alia was a dream....a fantasy....one that he didn't even really know he had until now.

"And I know exactly how your father feels about women. Do you?"

The sword stilled then....easily following the fold of her shirt to the next button, then poised ever so suggestively above the fastening. How many more before her modesty was compromised?

"So you've finally remembered me, then? Tell me....do you remember Roderick? Let's see.....no more than 20 winters old, contagious smile. Ever so popular with the maids in your house. A bit of a rake, actually. Your mother would remember him, I'm sure. After all, she's the reason he's dead."

A soft twitch and he could almost see her heart sink as the second button was severed....his gaze eagerly devouring the flesh that burst into view.

"It was all too easy to blame that all on me....especially after what I've seen. Guess I got to be too big of a threat very quickly. Your mother always was the smart one in your house, wasn't she? But ultimately, it was your father that agreed....to frame me and end my life."

A soft smile as he watched her internal struggle....knowing full well that instinctively she most likely wanted to cover herself. Yet there was the sword and the threat of injury....

"I was kind to you, yes. Who'd have thought you'd be the only one in that house worth being kind to."

The sword dipped lower. There would be no question this time around...when this button fell, the girl's firm breasts would surely spill into view. He had to tell himself to slow down....to savor this....

"You can most certainly return that kindness now if you'd like."

He almost laughed as for a brief moment the hope he'd seen before returned to her eyes.

"Take it off. Unless of course....you'd like me to ruin it completely for you."