Fimbulwinter (Daniel Black) (6 page)

Cerise chuckled. “If that was being caught off guard I can’t wait to see a

fight you’re ready for. You were totally badass cutting your way through the

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woods, and the way you handled that troll! I got wet just watching it.”

“Gore whore,” Avilla teased. “You’re just a slut for power, aren’t you?”

“You know it, honeydew,” Cerise agreed smugly.

“Well, I’m glad you’re coping so well, but I’m not a pain slut like you.

Daniel, can you please take a look at this?”

I turned to find that she’d drawn the canvas closed, and shrugged her

dress off to bare herself from the waist up. I just about swallowed my tongue.

I’ve never seen such a perfect hourglass figure, and those magnificent breasts

of hers could have belonged to a comic book character. Her golden-brown skin

was smooth and unblemished, her large dark nipples perfectly placed and

exactly symmetrical.

There was a short, wickedly barbed arrow sticking out of one of them,

and a trickle of pale fluid still leaking from the wound. That brought me back

to Earth.

“Of course, Avilla. I do have to touch it, though,” I warned her.

“Just be gentle, please. It’s very sore.”

I nodded, and laid my hand lightly on her breast. Closing my eyes I

reached with my body sense, feeling for the wound. But something wasn’t

right. Not at all. There was flesh under my hand, but it wasn’t remotely human.

There was no meat or blood, just.... I strained, trying to identify it... sugar,

cinnamon, honey, mead, and a host of strange fluids that shimmered with

magic.

“Whoa,” I murmured. “Sugar and spice and everything nice, that’s what

Avilla is made of. So that’s what Cerise meant by ‘spell-wrought’.”

I opened my eyes to find her looking up at me with fear in her eyes.

“Can your power heal a creature like me?” She asked pleadingly.

I took her face gently between my hands, and looked into her eyes.

“Avilla, you aren’t a ‘creature’. You’re a woman. A remarkably beautiful and

resourceful young woman who just happens to also be a magical creation. But

if the people who live in this land are too ignorant to understand that I’ll be

happy to keep your secret. And yes, I can heal you.”

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Her smile was bright enough to light the world. But I made a mental note

to find out what her story was soon. If she’d just been transformed somehow

that was one thing, but if there were people in this land who could actually

create sapient beings I needed to know details.

“Thank you,” she breathed. “I didn’t think you’d understand.”

I smiled reassuringly. “I do, sweetie. Cerise, why don’t you hold her

while I do this? As sensitive as she is, I’m afraid it’s going to hurt a bit.”

“Good idea.” The pale, slender witch shot me a grateful look, and

scooted over to sit beside her girlfriend with both arms firmly around her.

“Let’s get this done.”

I put my hand back on her breast, and focused again. It was a bit different

than working on myself, and at first the magic that filled her body seemed to

resist my influence. But then Avilla sighed, forcing herself to relax, and the

resistance dissolved. The tender flesh around the wound throbbed with pain,

but it responded sluggishly to my prodding. In a few minutes I convinced it to

let go of the arrow, so I could remove the barbed point without doing any more

damage. Then I closed the wound, and started a flow of vitality to encourage

healing.

Her body drank it up like a sponge. Suddenly her magic welcomed me

eagerly, greedily searching for more of the energy I was providing. Thinking

that perhaps she’d been running low for some reason I expanded the flow,

letting the fringes of it wash across her whole upper torso as I concentrated the

majority of the energy on the wound.

An odd sound from Avilla almost distracted me, but I managed to keep

most of my attention on what I was doing.

“You alright?” I asked.

“Oh, yes,” she sighed breathlessly. “That feels so nice. The pain is almost

gone. Please, don’t stop.”

Cerise chuckled indulgently. “Mana slut. You can’t get enough of it, can

you?”

“I can’t help it, Cerise,” Avilla replied defensively. “You know I have

trouble... keeping... charged... oh please, Daniel, tell me you can do this

again?”

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Her body was soaking up my magic like a sponge now, and I could feel

her arousal blossoming into full force.

“I can,” I told her. “But I’m starting to think you should be asking your

girlfriend’s permission. This is like a drug for you, isn’t it?”

“Maybe.”

“Yeah, she gets totally stoned if you feed her too much at once,” Cerise

put in. “You’d better ease off until you get the other arrows out.”

“Meanie,” Avilla pouted. “I never get to have all the magic I can hold.”

“That’s because you can hold enough magic to levitate a mountain,

honeydew,” Cerise replied proudly. “No matter how much I stuff you you’re

still going to want more, and you get so silly you can’t hold up your end of a

power tap before long.”

I smiled at their familiar bickering, and busied myself extracting the rest

of the arrows. By the time I was finished Avilla was comically tipsy, and was

sloppily trying to make out with Cerise. I calmed her down a little by having

the two switch places, and spent another twenty minutes or so healing Cerise.

“So, what’s your secret?” I asked as I worked. “You started out human,

but I can feel you’ve done something odd to yourself.”

“Um.... it shouldn’t interfere with healing,” she said hesitantly.

“She steals power from demons,” Avilla explained conspiratorially.

“Hey!” Cerise cried indignantly. “Avilla! Don’t give away my

mysteries!”

“You did it to me,” the buxom blonde replied, sounding a little put out

about it. “Besides, it’s kind of cool. Ever since she got a piece of that succubus

she’s been insatiable.”

I laughed. “Alright, Avilla, that’s enough of that. I don’t need to hear

details about your sex life.”

“Thank you!” Cerise snapped.

“I can imagine it just fine,” I went on cheerfully.

Avilla giggled. Cerise sputtered. It kept them both distracted enough for

me to finally finish.

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Alas, then I had to earn my keep. Wounded soldiers and sick villagers

weren’t nearly as much fun to work on as my witches, but it was just as well.

Another hour or two of that teasing banter and I was liable to do something that

would get me knifed in the dark by one or the other of the adorable little

psychos.

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Chapter 3

The caravan set out not long after I finished healing Cerise, but I was far

too busy to spare any attention for the scenery.

A lot of the soldiers were injured to a greater or lesser degree, and they

lined up to see what the mysterious wizard could do for them. The first few

were cautious enough to make me wonder how many charlatans there were in

this field, but after I healed a cracked rib and a couple of infected arrow

wounds word got around that I was the real deal. After that I had to recruit the

girls’ help to screen them and keep the line organized, or I wouldn’t have been

able to get anything done.

“First priority is anyone who looks like they might die if they have to

wait,” I told them. “Then soldiers who can walk on their own, but are hurt bad

enough to keep them from fighting properly. After that I’ll take serious injuries,

but minor ones will have to wait for tomorrow.”

“So, keep them alive, keep us all defended, and then go from most serious

to least? Got it,” Cerise said confidently. “Better let me handle that, though.

Avilla’s a sucker for a sob story.”

Avilla pouted at that.

“I’ll take your word for it,” I replied diplomatically. “Avilla, can you

scrounge up a knife and see if you can find some rags and a source of water? I

can heat it myself, but a lot of these old injuries are going to need cleaning.”

“Oh!, Yes, I can do that,” she chirped happily, and ran off to take care of

it.

My next patient had a nasty compound fracture of the upper arm and

shoulder, courtesy of a troll’s club. I coaxed the shattered bones back together,

stamped out the infection, closed up the wounds where broken bones had

punctured skin and reconnected severed tendons. I let him go with a caution

that the bones would remain delicate for several days, and advised the sergeant

who’d shown up to observe to keep him on light duty if it was possible.

On close inspection the soldiers were a bit of a historical anomaly. Most

of them wore chain hauberks of a standardized design, and much of their other

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equipment was also identical. Heavy black boots, dark green cloaks and pot

helms were standard, while the sergeants had more elaborate helms with nose

and cheek guards. A lot of them carried long spears with narrow points that

were obviously designed for piercing armor, while the rest bore a mix of

swords, axes and what I was pretty sure were compound bows.

That was odd. In feudal societies fighting men usually had to supply their

own equipment, so that level of standardization was rare. But then, so was the

fact that the unit was called the ‘5 Margold’ and not ‘Rain’s Company’, or

something like that. Somehow this world had apparently evolved relatively

modern military organizations without abandoning feudalism.

I resolved to keep my eyes open and try not to make assumptions until I

knew more about this strange society.

My next patient was a peasant farmer who’d come down with the flue,

which was potentially lethal under these conditions. Then an assortment of

wounded soldiers - cracked bones, nasty gashes and puncture wounds, and a

paralyzed arm that turned out to be the result of some goblin shaman’s curse

rather than a physical injury. The spell was easily removed, which seemed to

particularly impress the men.

I was starting to wonder if any of the troops guarding the caravan were

actually healthy. The sergeant nodded when I commented on it.

“It’s been tough fighting, sir wizard,” the grizzled veteran said. “The

worst I’ve ever seen. We were near two hundred when we set out, but not a

day’s gone by when we didn’t lose a man or six. Three times we’ve had a

whole patrol, a dozen or more men, just vanish with no survivors.”

I frowned. “I wouldn’t think goblins would be that effective against

trained soldiers, unless you were chasing them through the woods. Those little

bows of theirs can’t be much use against armor, and their marksmanship isn’t

that great.”

“Not your first campaign, is it sir? No, the goblins can’t stand against us

in the open field. They raid us instead, always popping out of the woods to

plink a few arrows and curses at whoever they can get a beat on and then

running off into the woods. Can’t follow them without running into traps and

ambushes, and every now and then they get someone. It wears on a man, even if

our archers do make them pay for it.”

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“But what’s bad is the real monsters. We keep running into trolls,

sometimes alone but usually with goblins. Worse things, too. An ogre,

felwolves, even a beast the captain says was a manticore. We turned back

when the scouts reported giant tracks.”

Yeah, that made more sense. I’d seen myself how tough trolls were. If

giants were even bigger they’d be bad news to a group like this.

It was twilight by then, and the sky was mostly overcast. A few flakes of

snow drifted down on us.

“The captain’ll be calling camp any time now,” the sergeant observed.

“I’d best get the men ready. But if’n you don’t mind me saying so, I figure

you’ve done enough for one day. There’s no sense in you wearing yourself out

over bumps and bruises when we might have a man take an arrow in the throat

before dawn.”

“Fair enough, sergeant. What’s your name, by the way?”

“Thomas, sir.”

A call from up ahead interrupted us, and he hurried away with another

respectful nod. I had to admit, after my years as a corporate drone I could get

used to that kind of treatment.

The caravan stopped in an open field beside the road, which had

apparently been used for that purpose many times before. The men circled the

wagons to form an improvised barricade between the camp and the

surrounding woods, and a work party began cutting wood and setting up a

bonfire while smaller groups corralled the animals and hung canvas awnings