Evelda sat in her usual place by the door. Her plate was full of food. Tonight the matriarchs had cooked salmon, baked soft flat bread and filled the rest of the plate with cheese and berries. Her tankard was full of wine and she should be tucking in eagerly to the bountiful meal.
And yet she couldn’t. Instead she darted her eyes every now and then to the sight of her feline master.
The grand hall was starting to look as it once did on tapestries; before her time. The high thrones of the royal chieftain and his family were covered in fine bear pelts. The largest two chairs held Lord Bryne and his wife, with Sigurd sat beside his father, and Talita beside her mother. The blonde family looked to be worth the fine linens and gold they now wore. Somehow Talita looked even lovelier than normal. Her hips had more of a curve to them and her breasts had pleasantly swollen in size. A large fireplace behind the thrones kept them warm, and a central fireplace warmed the many rows of wooden tables that now layered the room and faced the thrones. Serving women came from the side doors, carrying platters of food and barrels of wine. With a wave of your hand they would fill your tankard and plates to the brim.
How long ago it now seemed since they had scraps carefully rationed onto each plate and every morsel was treasured…
Turuk had spent most of his time lazily sprawled across one of the high beams across the support pillars and watched them intently. Wine had been flowing for a good while now, so most of the hall was merry. Laughter and joy sang through the air. Children ran around now they had energy, and the men spoke of the upcoming trade journey through Skygget forest.
Look at them all. They feel so safe in this hall. If they only knew that Turuk was lurking amongst them…but then again that’s the idea. That they don’t know.
Evelda watched as Turuk minced along the floor of the hall and jumped up onto none other than Talita’s lap. The blonde was startled at first, but then seemed to melt at the appearance of the cute cat and began stroking his upturned belly. Oh sweet maker.
Evelda jerked her head to look down at her full plate. Of course he would seek out the women in his list? Why was she surprised that he’d so brazenly approach Talita like this? She didn’t know he was anything but a fluffy cat. One thing Evelda did know…she couldn’t bear to watch him.
So instead she held her tankard tightly and closed her eyes with her head hung forward.
Soon he’ll get bored. People will start to leave. Surely we can leave soon. Goodness how can I do this? How can I just sit here knowing a demon stalking his prey and say nothing? I’m such a coward. I-
Evelda bolted upright as a thud on the table before her drew her from her thoughts. …shit…its Turuk… Evelda gulped and stared into his bright blue cat eyes for a long moment. Wait, does this mean we can go? She began to stand, and the cat hissed at her. So she quickly dropped back into her seat. Damn it. I can’t start talking to the cat to find out what he wants. I can’t be heard calling him master either. Oh no he’s going to give me away!! What do I do?!
Before she could panic any further the cat pressed his right paw on the edge of her plate. He pushed it towards her and then slinked off the table to sit on the bench beside her. Evelda followed the cat with nervous hazel eyes. When she didn’t stop staring, the cat started to purr and nodded towards the plate. It even went as far as to climb onto her lap, sending a fearful chill through her entire body.
Turuk the Demon lord is sat on my lap…breathe…need to keep breathing…
Turuk pawed at the edge of the plate before her and brought it closer to them both. Just as she was about to lose her mind and bellow ‘just tell me what you want’ at the cat, he spoke to her.
“Eat your food and we’ll leave.” His voice was low, and she didn’t see the mouth of the cat move. His eyes flashed to their normal fiery orange for a moment.
Evelda gulped and nodded. She started shovelling the food into her mouth, barely chewing it enough to swallow. She used the wine to wash the food down and was out of breath when she was done. Evelda looked down at the cat for his approval, and for a moment she thought she’d done something wrong. Turuk’s eyes were orange and fiery. Evelda started to tremble.
Then as suddenly as she could blink Turuk hopped off her lap and sauntered over to the main door. Is, is that the signal? We’re leaving?
She didn’t want to anger her master any further and hurried to follow him. Thankfully she wasn’t followed by her friends this time and walked in the dark of the night alongside the most terrifying creature she could ever encounter. Their walk was a silent one, and as she opened the door for the cat. As soon as she closed the door she was faced by a wall of smoke. It soon swarmed in on itself and Turuk’s true form towered over her. Evelda pressed herself against the door and bowed her head forward.
“An interesting evening.” He regarded her curiously. “Doumian women are very boisterous when merry and unwatched. Almost as rowdy as the men.”
He folded his arms over his chest. This caused the cloak to fall open over his front. It was at this moment that Evelda noticed that he wasn’t wearing his usual armour. His feet were bare, his usual black leather trousers were in place but the human bone belt was missing, as was his metal gauntlets. If anything he looked like he could have been one of the more athletic Douma warriors. The only thing that set him apart was the fact that his skin was dark grey, his fiery orange eyes and his hidden face showed he wasn’t human. “Although not many of your women are easy on the eye. Most are either too scrawny, too young or too old. The toll of the lower birth rate these last few generations has taken its toll.”
Evelda didn’t know if she was meant to say anything. So she just nodded. “I observed what you meant by Valdis having a sharp nature.” Evelda held her arms as she followed him into the house. The air was chilly and she was in for a cold night. Stupidly I didn’t think to bring any flints back with me. So much wood on the fire and no way of lighting it.
Turuk scanned his eyes over her, chuckled and paced around her central fire place. He seemed to stare at it for a moment, and then it erupted with flames. Huh…well I bet that’s a useful skill to have in the winter. When Evelda looked up from the fireplace she realised that Turuk was staring at her.
“Th-thank you Master.” He watched her for a moment before turning his hooded face away from her to look around her home. His long cloak made it look like he was gliding over the wooden floor as he took himself over to a wide stool by her fireplace. He lowered onto it and Evelda hurried to mirror him on the other side of the fire pit. “Y-you, erm, said that you m-might have questions?”
“I do.” He spoke softly in thought, staring at the fire and the embers reflecting in his haunting eyes. “But I will think on them further before voicing them. For now I will allow you to rest as tomorrow will be a very busy day for you.”
Evelda felt knots in her stomach coil in on themselves. It took all her strength to ask him what he meant by that. she chewed her lips first, bracing herself as he didn’t like to be questioned. With her hands ringing her skirt on her lap she went for it.
“W-will I master? D-do you have something planned for me?”
The way he snapped his head up from staring at the fire made her think she’d startled him in some way. “M-Master?”
“Surely you jest?” He leaned forward and placed his dark grey hands on his knees. When Evelda just gulped and shook her head he folded his arms and cleared his throat. “Tomorrow is the first day of Fødsel. 7 days before the Maker enkindles the soil to make it, and the wombs of women, fertile with life? One of the most significant festivals to usher out the winter for spring?”
“Oh.” Evelda nodded with recognition. “I know what Fødsel is Master. We just haven’t celebrated it since before my time.”
“…truly?”
“Well, over the week of Fødsel, if I remember correctly, it starts with hunting parties going out to bring in wild boar and deer. Also fishing and turning over the fields.” She licked her lips and thought. “Then a large bonfire is built in the middle of a large field to burn and dance around on the last night. It needs to be enormous to honour the Maker so it takes days to build. In the mean time there are other festivities. Wrestling, stick fight tournaments and a hell of a lot of drinking. On the last night the bonfire is lit and we dance, Merry with mead and…what?” Turuk was on his feet and staring down at the redhead.
“And you have neglected to honour the Maker by not tending to Fødsel why?” It seemed he was angry on behalf of the Maker. Apparently demons worshiped the Maker too. “Well?”
“Hunts require access to the forest.” When Turuk started to circle round the fire place Evelda felt her nerves fire up again. She stumbled to her feet to be ready for anything. “A-and you’ve only just graciously allowed that once more. We didn’t have the meat, the mead or the energy to-”
“I will see Bryne first thing in the morning. This sacrilege will be corrected.” He growled and headed towards the door. The ragged ends of his hooded cloak crawl like angry fingers on the floor around him.
So you’re completely overlooking that YOU are the reason that we haven’t celebrated any of our religious festivals to the Maker since the deal was last broken? Trapped in our own famine filled and destitute baron lands. No one wants to party when you’re starving to death…
Evelda watched his back as the demon lord stood facing the door but not going through. What was he waiting for? She was desperate for Turuk to disappear into the night. She’d had more than enough of him for one day and her poor nerves couldn’t take anymore. Not if she wanted to keep her tongue polite and her head on her shoulders.
“…Master? Is there something else you need?”
“It has been many generations since I have partaken of Fødsel.” Turuk turned to look over his shoulder but not at her.
“…does that mean you’ll be celebrating it with us Master?” Evelda made sure to keep her tone even so she didn’t give away how much she hoped the answer was no. A little voice in her head had become rather excited at the idea of making merry around the fire like the older Douma villagers told them fondly about.
“…I will not observe the festivities leading up to the final night, but I will be present for the final day of Fødsel.” She became optimistic once more. It was a fair compromise. The whole point of tonight’s escapade was to allow Turuk to watch Douma’s residents acting natural and getting merry. Fødsel used to be the biggest ordained excuse to drink, fight and fornicate going. It didn’t surprise her therefore that Turuk would want some involvement in the festival. But if he was only coming to the main event then it meant that Evelda relax in the meantime. “I will speak directly to Bryne in the morning to organize the day of homage. You will not see me for the next rest of the week.” Yes! A break! Evelda hid her excitement and schooled her features.
“Yes Master.”
“When I return on the day of Fødsel I will have a special task for you to perform. Make sure not to commit yourself to any particular responsibility.”
“Yes Master.” She bowed and sighed with relief when the sound of the door thudding into its frame met her ears. Alone in her home she felt safe to hold her head and let her guard down. “Well I survived the night. Turuk didn’t flay me and the villagers didn’t drag my neck behind a running horse, so it’s a good day.” She sniggered to herself and took herself off to bed. Evelda kicked off her boots and dropped herself face first onto the fine fur covers. “Another day alive as a demon’s secret whipping bitch. Alive…for now…” Snoring filled the house soon afterwards.
Turuk stood over her bed and looked down at her. She looked far from ladylike in that position. Her arms and legs were spread, she was fully dressed, her messy ginger hair splayed around her head which was jutted to one side. Her mouth hung open and she snored like her Viking ancestors.
“…for now indeed.”
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