Fanfic: "Memories of You" - Chapter 3 - "A Bird in the Hand"
"Dogs of war and men of hate
with no cause, we don't discriminate.
Discovery is to be disowned,
our currency is flesh and bone...
One world, it's a battleground.
One world, and we're gonna smash it down"
-Pink Floyd
Stayne smiled to himself as he tossed the sleeping woman to a waiting soldier and dismounted his horse. Iracebeth's instructions had been clear and he had followed them to a 'T'. He'd waited until the man had left and the woman had had plenty of time to go back to sleep before quietly entering the dark cabin and making his way to the bedroom. Iracebeth had given him dreamwort, warning him to make sure the woman didn't wake up first and warn her husband. She'd never even stirred and he'd given her an extra dose, just to make sure could appreciate all the nasty side effects when she woke up. The ring was next and since he couldn't remember which one she had said he must remove at all cost, he simply removed both of them, tossing them on the floor before he bound the unconscious woman and wrapped her in the quilt from her bed. The horse was the fastest one of the Northern realms, and he had made it across the Outland mountains before the sun was barely up.
He took the Upland woman back from the soldier, threw her over his shoulder, and went in search of Iracebeth. She was waiting for him as he entered the throne room. He lowered the woman from his shoulder into his arms as he knelt before her.
"I have the Uplander, as you requested, my queen."
A slow smile lit Iracebeth's face as she glanced at the bound form before her. "Very good, Stayne. Please show her to the guest quarters until she wakes. Elizabeth and I have lots of catching up to do..."
"Yes, your majesty." Stayne took Lizzie down to the dungeon and dumped her in.
Lizzie awoke several hours later with a blinding, splitting headache. Her arms were bound behind her and from the cramps in her muscles thought they must have been for some time. In fact, there weren't many places that didn't hurt.
[Fred...] she thought before she realized she couldn't sense his mind as she normally could. She felt on her hands to find both of her rings missing. Panic gripped her as she realized that, not only did she have no idea where she was, but Fred would have no idea either without their bond. She took a deep breath, trying to calm down (she wouldn't be much use to herself if she couldn't think straight) and struggled to her feet. It was dark, but there was light coming in through the one window of what she presumed was some sort of a cell that she was in. She went over and looked out. A torch burned in the hallway, otherwise it was dark, dank, and quiet - reminding her of her grandmother's root cellar.
"Hello?" she called, quietly. Her voice echoed off the walls and gave her the creeps. - speaking was probably a bad idea anyway. She doubted she was going to like anyone who answered her in a place like this anyway. She worked at the rope binding her hands, trying to loosen it, and she thought she might be getting somewhere when she heard heavy footfalls outside the door and a key twisting in the lock. She shrank back to the far corner and waited. The door opened and a tall man entered. His features were silhouetted by the light falling in through the door behind him. He strode into the room, and Lizzie turned away as he came up to her. He grabbed her painfully by the arm, jerking her back around. "Her majesty's been waiting to see you, Uplander," he rasped. "I hope you enjoyed your nap."
"Who are you?" she whispered. He turned towards the light and she saw that a black heart covered one deeply scarred eye.
"That's none of your concern right now," he said, then leaned over and whispered close to her ear. "Though perhaps when Iracebeth is done with you, we can get better acquainted."
"I think not."
The man only laughed. "I'm sure she has lovely plans for you first, never fear."
He lead her up a stone staircase and through a short hallway to a set of heavy wooden doors with two guards standing at either side. They opened them as she and the man approached.
"Make sure the queen is not disturbed," he told them.
He led Lizzie into a long chamber. At the end, on a throne, sat a woman in a black dress with long, wavy, crimson hair. Lizzie knew who she must be, though she looked quite different from the woman Alice had described. This woman's head appeared to be of normal size and her hair hung in long waves over her shoulders and fell to her waist. She looked younger than Lizzie had imagined, more how Fred had described her the one time he'd talked about her. Though if she was around Tarrant's age, she would be in her early 40's now. Something Lizzie had read once (when trying to figure out what was wrong with her mother) came to mind. It went something to the effect of those who don't live in the real world don't age as quickly as those of us who do.
The man shoved her hard, and she lost her balance, falling to her knees in front of the former queen. She picked herself up, not taking her eyes of Iracebeth who looked her over as though considering whether she was worth the effort or perhaps should be tossed out with the day's garbage.
"So...," said the queen, ambivalently, a light lisp coloring her voice, "you are Elizabeth Hightopp, I presume?"
"You had me brought here, I'm sure you know who I am," answered Lizzie.
The queen smiley tritely, "You don't need your tongue for what I have planned for you. You'd be wise not to speak to me like that again."
Lizzie just glared at her. Iracebeth stood and walked down the stairs towards her. She was petite, and stopped on the bottom step, maintaining her height over Elizabeth. Iracebeth smiled sweetly at her and leaned closer, speaking in a whisper loud enough for only the two of them to hear.
"We have something in common, you and I," she said. "Tell me, Lizzie...whose name does Freddie scream when you make love - yours...or mine?"
"What do you want with me?" asked Lizzie, ignoring Iracebeth's comment. "Uplanders don't have any special powers."
The queen smirked. "Don't flatter yourself. It's not you I'm concerned with." She glanced at Stayne. "Bring her. Let's see if she gets to live a little longer or if I slit her throat today."
Stayne with Lizzie followed Iracebeth to a small room hidden behind the throne room. Lizzie noted that it looked remarkably similar to Mirana's kitchen laboratory. Fear crept through her as she remembered what Fred had said her area of expertise was - dominion over living creatures. She wouldn't be drinking anything - Iracebeth could just kill her first. The queen took what looked like a glass beaker of some sort, with a clear liquid in it, from the table. She pursed her lips and turned her head to the side.
Iracebeth noticed her behavior and laughed. "So he has told you what happened, hasn't he? This isn't for you to drink." She took a small dagger from her dress and Lizzie cried out as Iracebeth swiped the blade across her arm. Blood dripped freely from the wound and Iracebeth held the beaker of liquid underneath, catching it. Finally she placed it back on the table and took some powder from a vial, adding it to the liquid, and stirred. As Lizzie watched, the red liquid turned to dark blue.
Iracebeth smiled and looked up at Lizzie. "I guess it's your lucky day."
There was only one person Fred knew of in Underland who would have taken Lizzie. It was night now and he knew it was the only advantage he was going to have. A torch would call too much attention to himself, but he'd stowed a flashlight in the table by the bed. He made his way quickly through the doors until, for the second time that day, he stood in the forest of Northern Outland. He didn't go directly to the fortress, but around it, hoping there would be a way in unguarded through the back. Crouching at the edge of the woods, he scanned the courtyard before him, instinctively keeping his mind focused around and behind him. The way before him was impassible. By the light of several enormous bonfires, he could see that four columns of soldiers stood at the ready. Freddie guessed there must be at least fifty per column, making nearly 250 soldiers. He was too far away to see them in detail, but from the way they carried themselves - limply, leaning askew, with ragged clothing - he guessed they were all dead.
The thought had only just crossed his mind that, being dead, he might not be able to sense their presence when a twig snapped behind him and he turned around to find himself surrounded by half a dozen undead soldiers. He drew his sword in time to catch the first blows of their blades to reign down on him. There was only so much he could do in the dim light and from his crouched position, and he steeled himself for the blow he knew he would inevitably strike him. From the courtyard, close to the edge of the woods where Fred was fighting for his life came the notes of the hunting horn he'd heard earlier that day. As suddenly as they had attacked, the soldiers stopped - standing limply, unmindful of the man they had been attacking seconds before. Freddie stood up and turned around to see Remenhal astride an enormous black steed. In his hand he held the leashes of four hunting dogs, each with hair as black as coal and teeth as sharp as razors. A golden hunting horn was slung about his neck.
"Come out!" His deep voice seemed to echo through the valley around them. "Come out or I'll let them finish the job." Fred walked out from the edge of the forest. "Oh ho! The seer! Did you lose something on your way home today or just come back t' say 'hello'?" Remenhal pointed to his sword. "You won't be needing that where you're goin'. Drop it."
Fred gave him an angry grimace and dropped his claymore. "What did Iracebeth offer you?" he asked scornfully. "A full bowl of scraps at dinner or a quick death when she gets tired of having you for a lap dog?"
"Better than that," answered the huntsman. "Command of her new army. An army that never needs to rest or sleep - one without the inconvenience of moral convictions."
"You seem to be unburdened by such yourself."
"I work for the highest bidder. Follow me to the castle. Run and you die."
Fred followed his horse to the castle, flanked on either side by the undead soldiers while the dogs yelped and ran ahead. As they neared the castle, they passed through the columns of soldiers he'd seen earlier from a distance. Some of these had been had been long dead, apparently buried without performing the charm that kept them from decaying. Some had skin that was nearly mummified and leather-like - stretched tightly over their bones, each with gaping holes where their hearts had been cut from their bodies. Remenhal led them on further and they passed through a different column of soldiers, these looking as newly dead as the day they'd died. Freddie's blood turned to ice in his veins. Among these were men, women, and even taller children, all with similar wounds, burnt and charred skin, torn as though rent by great claws. Several were dressed in the kilts and tartans of their clans - gathering clothes. Though tattered and ragged, he could still identify the pattern...these people were from the clans of Iplam. He turned his face away from their dead, unseeing eyes. What had she done? There could only be one place these dead could have come from - the mass graves of Horunvendush day. If Iracebeth had desecrated those...
They entered the rear gate of the fortress and Remenhal blew a series of notes on the golden horn and the undead soldiers fell back, blending into the ranks of the column behind him. He had his own men bind Fred's arms before leading him up through the rear staircase to the thick, double doors and into the throne room. Fred didn't look up even when Remenhal stopped him.
"Freddie," said Iracebeth, charmingly. "What a nice surprise. Have you met my new favorite? Lizzie, say 'hello'."
Fred's head snapped up at her words, and he found himself staring at his wife, seated beside Iracebeth.
"Hello," said Lizzie, quietly.
She hardly did more than glance at him, and Fred felt quickly for her thoughts, but there was nothing there but a jumbled mess. "What have you done to her?" he asked Iracebeth, viciously. "She's done nothing to you!"
Iracebeth said nothing, merely turned to Lizzie and said matter-of-factly, "You may go now, Lizzie. I will call for you later."
Lizzie stood and answered demurely, "Yes, your majesty," and stepped down from beside the throne. Fred tried to reach for her as she passed him, but the guards held him fast. Instead he shouted, "Lizzie! Lizzie, look at me!"
She stopped and turned towards him, confusion etched on her face. "I'm sorry," she said, quietly, shaking her head, "I don't know who you are." She quickened her pace, leaving the room.
"Thank you, Remenhal," said Iracebeth, "Stayne will take him from here. You are dismissed."
"But, Your Majesty..."
"I said 'You are dismissed'!" she shouted at the huntsman. The man grimaced but reluctantly gestured to his soldiers to release Fred. Stayne, who Fred had not even noticed was present, came to stand by him as the others left the room.
Freddie turned to Iracebeth. "What have you done?" he asked, coldly.
Iracebeth merely looked at him and began to laugh. "You...you should have seen your face." she cackled. "That itself was worth having you brought here alive. Don't you agree, Stayne?"
"Quite, my queen."
She chuckled a bit more and then fell silent, her face suddenly serious. She got up and walked down the stairs to stand in front of him. "What have I done? Why I took you away from her." She leaned closer to him. "Every day, every hour, every smile, every kiss, every touch, all her memories of you...I took them all away, and do you know what I found, Freddie? It was the most peculiar thing, wasn't it Stayne?"
"Very much so, my queen."
"When I took you out of her mind, she suddenly stopped fighting me. It was as though her own will just vanished "Poof!" into thin air."
"Iracebeth, she's no use to you! She has no powers. Let her go - take me instead," pleaded Fred.
A slow smile spread across the queen's face. "So..," she said, "we finally find out what makes you 'tick'. That's sweet, but that offer is off the table. You had your chance, and to be perfectly honest I'd rather just chop off your head in the morning. You're right, I could care less if your bitch lives or dies, but she has something that I need, so she'll outlive you...for a while, at least."
There was something behind her eyes, a giddiness, something that frightened him as much as it brought her obvious glee. "What are you talking about?" he whispered.
"You don't know, do you?" she asked, smiling wickedly at him. "Your wife is with child, Freddie."
He couldn't catch his breath, couldn't breathe...he fell to his knees, wondering how he could not have known.
She knelt beside him and whispered in his ear, "Don't worry, I'll keep her nice and cozy until then. I'll even let her remember you after it's born...before I cut her heart out and give her to my huntsmen." She ran her fingers through his hair, recalling in vivid details the last time she had touched him intimately, knowing that he wouldn't be able to stop himself from reading her thoughts. She smirked as he flinched and turned away. "And then I'll raise your child as my own..."
"No!" He looked up, tears streaming from his eyes. "'Racie...why? Why?" he cried.
She wiped the tears from his cheeks. "Why? Because I can."
A/N: Racie's so fun to write :) I think she'll be hanging around a while.
And thanks to Dita who started me thinking about giving Freddie and Lizzie a kid...though this probably wasn't what she had in mind, lol.
The title reference - "A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush..."