...

At Fortress Stonehill, Jeanine stood over Valaria's corpse, laid out on the raised granite slab in the underground crypt. Jeanine's only light was the single torch flaming in a rung behind her. Jeanine had already closed Valaria's eyelids and now stared at the woman's pallid, grimacing face. Valaria's wound had quickly dried an unnatural oily black but Jeanine paid it little mind. She merely stroked Valaria's hair and sobbed.

"I will avenge you, my dearest." she vowed, "By Our Lady, I swear it."

Jeanine moved her fingers down to Valaria's cold cheek and then her lips.

"I never told you how I felt." she whispered, "How much I loved you..."

Jeanine pursed her lips and leaned in to kiss the corpse but gasped as it sprang to life and Valaria's gloved fingers tightened around her neck. Jeanine gasped and sputtered as she struggled to release Valaria's grip but it only grew tighter.

Valaria's eyes opened, still a bright glistening green and her skin quickly warmed. She looked at Jeanine's frightened face and released her grip. Jeanine gasped for air and collapsed to her knees in disbelief and exhaustion.

"You still live?" she questioned, "Are...you...undead?"

As if in answer, Valaria looked down at her pierced heart, now a thriving black slime. She then looked back at Jeanine and gave a very displeased scowl.

"I never meant for you to see me like this." Valaria said, "It has been quite some time since I've received a fatal injury."

"What...are you?" Jeanine asked in fear, "A demon?"

"I suppose that's one way of putting it." Valaria answered, "I'd rather not explain it. The rejuvenation process is...unpleasant. Wait...did you just try to kiss me?"

"Are you alive?" Jeanine wondered, "Are you truly alive?"

"I'm alive, Jeanine." Valaria said, "Let us just say in my current state I'm quite difficult to kill."

"I'm glad you're alive." Jeanine said, holding back tears, "I'm so glad you're alive, Valaria."

Jeanine stepped forward to embrace the revived countess but Valaria held out her ungloved hand.

"Do not touch me in this state." Valaria warned, "I am not always in control of my actions. Besides, we need to discuss that kiss."

"What kiss?" Jeanine asked, pleading ignorance.

"You tried to kiss my lifeless body. That's...questionable to say the least." Valaria said, "I'm not in love with you, Jeanine. I'm not in love with anyone. And I have always been attracted to men."

"I've never seen you show any affection toward a man." Jeanine argued.

Valaria shook her head and gave a long, heavy sigh.

"I'm not in love with any man any longer." she said, "Tis what began this ordeal to begin with."

"What ordeal?" Jeanine asked.

"I cannot tell you any more than that." Valaria said, "Also, this may be hard for you to hear, but I need you to release the prisoners, the bandits that tried to kill me."

"Never!" Jeanine asserted, "They still meant you harm, and they held Mariot captive!"

"I need you to release them." Valaria insisted, "I shall take it up with the princess if you do not. I'll even say that you lied to her about my demise."

"Why, Valaria?" Jeanine questioned, "Why would you hurt me like that?"

"Because you are obstinate." Valaria scolded, "And I need those bandits released for reasons I cannot say. Now I'm going to Rosehill to see Mariot. When I return, I had better not have reason to see the princess as well."

"You break my heart, Valaria." Jeanine confessed.

"My heart is broken as well." Valaria said as she started to leave, clutching her oozing wound.

In the same underground portion of the fortress, opposite of the crypt was the dungeon. Six cells, small stone rooms each barred by iron grates, stood in opposing rows of three. The cells were dank, musty, and moldy, containing three pairs of chained fetters in each of them. The cells were dimly lit from cracks in the floor above that let in small beams of sunlight.

Raquila and Shelia were chained to the wall inside one of these cells, Shelia was shackled at both wrists, Raquila only by one wrist. Raquila's severed stump was a clotted mess of blood and gauze. She had been just barely treated by the soldiers. The bleeding had stopped but the muscle was still exposed and each sting of air caused her pain.

"At least she is dead, the murdering whore is dead." Raquila muttered, "My life is complete. Even if I rot here."

"Raquila." Shelia insisted, "Listen to me. We have to find a way to escape. The paleskins will probably torture us."

"Ahh!" Raquila yelped, "It hurts so much. My arm....I can't see it...but I can feel it...my fingers...still move."

Raquila contorted her phantom limb as much as her mind would allow. She stopped only when she heard the sound of keys rattling and the grate door open with a loud ringing creak.

"Who's there?!" she demanded, "Show yourself!"

A disheveled figure stepped into the light, holding a ring of keys. It was an old peasant woman, dressed in grey rags and cloth shoes. Her long hair was withered and matted, as was her skin, and her right eye was missing, replaced by a patchwork of scars. Her good eye glowed a cool grey as the light hit it.

"Looks like ye ran inta a bit o' fun, did ye?" the old jailer mocked, "Got yer arm lobbed off by tha countess?"

"Your countess is dead." Raquila answered, "I sent her to Hell."

"Did ye now, darkskin?" the old woman argued, "I take that the countess has a betta chance o' Heaven than the likes a' ye."

"What do you want with us, hag?" Raquila demanded.

"Ta properly finish yer arm." the old woman answered, "Have ta burn off tha skin so ye dunnot die of tha rot."

"Go ahead and try, hag." Raquila warned, "I'll strangle you with these fetters."

"Tha name's Grunda, darkskin." the old woman corrected, "An' dunnot be bitin' tha hand that feeds ye, or perhaps we won't feed ye a't'all."

The squabbling women were interrupted by another creature who shuffled past Grunda to get a look at the prisoners. This creature was a misshapen adolescent girl with black hair and brown eyes. She wore brown ragged clothes and the same cloth shoes. She had a hunched back and her left eye was sunken and drooping. Her mouth was also agape, revealing crooked teeth.

"Who is this?" Shelia questioned.

"What is that thing?" Raquila added.

"Tis me putrid heap of a granddaughta, Grunhilda." Grunda answered, "Come ta have a look at ye, she did."

Grunhilda murmured and groaned as she did not have the capacity to speak. She reached out a hand and touched Raquila's hair, giggling like a small child. Raquila sneered and slapped her.

"Raquila!" Shelia gasped.

"Get back!" Raquila yelled, "Wretched thing!"

Grunhilda burst into tears and ran to her grandmother for comfort. Grunda stroked her granddaughter's hair and hugged her.

"Shush now, me dearie." she said, "She did'nu hurt ye."

"Raquila, she is only a child." Shelia remarked, "A poor, simpleminded girl."

"And I'm a maimed swordmaster who's lost her good arm!" Raquila complained, "Leave me alone!"

"So we shall, darkskin." Grunda said as she slammed the cell grate shut and locked it back.

Grunda and Grunhilda swiftly left the dungeon, leaving the two bandits to stew in misery.

As the sun began to set at Castle Rosehill, Mariot was in her private chambers, bathing in a small marble tub, one of the luxuries provided to noblewomen. Her servant girl, Janice, filled the tub with water from a kettle heated from the castle's kitchen kiln. Janice also had a small bag of powder she placed in the water, causing it to foam into childish bubbles.

Janice was a girl of peasant origin, having a slight hunch herself, plain brown hair and eyes, freckles, and crooked, half-rotted teeth. Before Mariot had rescued her from the slums, she had taken to chewing tar leaves, and still did sneak a few in her mouth if she could find them. She wore a black dress, stockings, and white apron that had suspicious brown spit stains.

"Will there be anythin' else, milady?" Janice asked.

"Oh yes, my dear Janice." Mariot requested, "My toy boats."

Mariot owned three small wooden boats that she enjoyed playing with in the tub. She also owned a large doll's castle designed in the image of Rosehill that included small puppet versions of the queen, the princess, and some horses and knights. Janice also played with these things when Mariot was not looking.

Janice placed the boats in the water and Mariot made them drift with a wave of her hand. Mariot smiled at Janice who tried to smile back as Mariot scrubbed herself with a sea sponge. Janice's mind was in another place, considering taking up fencing and becoming a knightess herself. As if in answer to her thoughts, the doors to Mariot's room burst open an in stepped Countess Valaria.

Mariot and Janice both yelped in fear and Valaria stepped back and blushed.

"Forgive me, Lady Mariot." Valaria said, "I did not know it was your bathing hour."

"You still live?!" Mariot questioned in astonishment.

"Oh yes." Valaria said sheepishly, "I have no time to explain it. I just wanted to make sure you were unharmed by the incident."

Mariot shivered in fear at the "undead" Valaria and looked at the spot where her wound should have been. It was now covered in gauze soaked by a gruesome black crust. Mariot was afraid to ask about it and averted her gaze.

"I am...I am unharmed." Mariot answered, "But could you please knock before barging in?"

"Oh yes, I am sorry for that as well." Valaria added, as if she were oblivious, "I have had much to consider. So how are you faring?"

"I fare well." Mariot said, "Now please, if I may finish my bath."

"Can ya teach me ta swordfight?" Janice spoke up, looking at Valaria.

"Swordfight?" Valaria questioned, "Do you seek to become a knight, young girl?"

"I been ponderin' about it, as o' recent." Janice admitted.

"You are a bit too old for the training already." Valaria explained, "Page girls start out earlier than you. But I may be able to teach you a few techniques."

"Perhaps another time..." Mariot advised, "For now..."

Valaria suddenly produced her needlepoint from its scabbard and twirled it skillfully in the air. Janice clapped her hands in delight. Valaria's gauntlet twinged as she suddenly sensed something move. Valaria's right arm took a hold of her sword and stabbed at a corner in the floor. Valaria brought her sword up and noticed she had impaled a brown mouse.

"It would appear you have a mouse problem." she commented.

Mariot twinged in dread at what she knew would be her servant's reaction. Janice began to shake violently and angry tears filled her eyes.

"Ye killed him!!" she shouted, "Ye murdered him! Sir Bubbles, 'e was me friend, 'e was!"

Janice lunged at Valaria and tried to claw her face but the countess only grabbed her neck with her gloved arm and started to strangle Janice in the same manner as Jeanine. Janice's eyes narrowed in fear as she tried to breathe and collapsed to her knees.

"Please!!" Mariot begged of Valaria, "Spare her! She is unwell!"

Valaria released her grip as Janice gasped for air. The countess clutched her own armored wrist and looked away in shame.

"I cannot control it." she murmured, and quickly fled without taking her sword.

As soon as Janice was able to take in air again she shuffled over to Valaria's sword with Sir Bubbles' impaled body at the end of it. Janice jerked the dead mouse from the blade and cradled him in her hands.

"Poor dear." she whispered, "I couldn't save ye."

Mariot wanted to argue how Sir Bubbles was only a mouse but knew that it would be to no avail. Mariot then attempted to climb out of the tub to embrace her servant but then clutched her hip in pain.

"Cramp!!" she shouted, "It hurts!"

Mariot plopped back down in the tub with a splash as Janice wiped the tears from her eyes and gave a look of defiance.

"I'll avenge ye." she vowed.