Chapter 9
A frigid wind whistled between jagged crenels as King James gazed down into the narrow mountain valley. From this remote tower, he could survey the entire dale, and most importantly, the only direction of approach. It was a tower was so isolated, far up in the western mountains, that it had no official name. Only about a dozen families inhabited the valley, where they farmed goats and sheep at the high altitude. However, it being winter, half the families had left and only about 20 hardy people remained to weather out the season at this altitude. The tower and its underground warrens had been abandoned for decades when King James had arrived with his men. They had to work using some sorcery and no small amount of elbow grease to get it into a habitable condition. But now the old stones were secure against the weather and provided a warm safe place for the 100 or so men that had fled the capital with James several weeks ago.
Without ever planning for it, King James had found himself as the leader of a resistance movement. As they fled Paterburg on the horrible night William had given up his crown, they had helped numerous people – mostly soldiers and influential men – flee the city. Various groups had ridden off to different parts of Patterland. Many of the aristocrats had gone toward their family holdings, and the clergy to monasteries or distant villages. Even a number of magi, who said it was no longer safe in the city, had left in a small group together. King James only told a handful of extremely close men the general region where he intended to go. He no longer trusted anyone, really. In fact, he’d lied to at least 10 different men, just to seed doubts and fake rumours about his whereabouts. Already he’d heard that Ursula’s agents were looking for him, asking villagers and promising large rewards to anyone who would give a clue leading to his capture.
During their careful retreat, James learned that Queen Ursula had quickly spread several different lies about him. One story widely circulating was that he’d tried to seize the throne from an ill King William, and that they’d engaged in a fight, in which Ursula had stepped in and helped to protect the realm. Another was that he’d attacked Ursula directly and that William had banished him from the kingdom. There were about a dozen different such stories circulating about his supposed crimes and misdeeds. But since securing this mountain hideout, he’d purposefully cut himself from the rest of the kingdom. Sending out riders and scouts was far too risky. It was nearly March, and the high mountain passes were still very treacherous for travel, but James had little doubt that Ursula would dispatch forces if she discovered where he was. He had to be sparing with his information gathering. It was important to keep a low profile for a time. He hoped to gather support in the warmer months, and to begin building a resistance network between those he knew opposed the Witch Queen.
As James’ thoughts wandered, he observed a small snow-hawk drifting on the drafts of air rising from the valley below. The bird was hunting, wheeling slowly to side on the currents as it conserved energy. It was perfectly adapted for the mountain climate, able to survive in the harsh conditions when other animals had fled.
A heavy wooden door in the floor opened with a creaking noise and Brother Victor climbed carefully up onto the frosty roof. He was wearing his usual robes, but with an added layer of thick wool. Several animal pelts rested on the clergyman’s shoulders and the beginnings of a salt and pepper beard was forming on his chin. James smiled and turned back to the view.
“I would not recognize you, Brother Victor, if I had not been with you these last few weeks. You look like a different man – a tougher man,” he said.
Brother Victor came to stand next to his King. “We’ve all had to make changes your highness,” he said.
“Indeed,” James replied. He pointed to the snow-hawk in the distance with his gloved hand. “Do you see that hawk Brother Victor? I must become like that hawk. I must conserve my strength and wait patiently for opportunity to arise. I must become one with these mountains, with the high altitude and cold. I must strike without warning and be able to retreat to my high aerie fastness.”
Brother Victor said nothing as he watched the bird. The two men looked out at the view, lost in their own thoughts, their own regrets. King James’ blond hair was getting longer along with his beard. His thick mane blew in the wind, serving as an added buffer against the cutting chill of the air.
Finally, the cleric spoke. “My lord, it was not your fault. None of us knew what she really was. We were all blinded by arrogance and by her beauty, by complacency.”
“You’re wrong,” William said. “We were warned. I have been thinking about it the last few days. A year or two ago a man came to the palace, a farmer or shepherd – I cannot remember. He warned us that there was a witch in Patterland, and we laughed at him. I did. We sent him away with some bread and scoffed at his warning. Only Timothy suspected his words carried any merit. If I’d listened to his warnings, perhaps we could have stopped her before…all this.”
Brother Victor put his hand on King James’ shoulder. “No. You could not have known. There has not been a real witch in Patterland in centuries. Besides, what’s done is done. We must look to the future. We must find a way to stop her, to retake the palace.”
“What will happen if we can’t?” James asked. His voice was quiet.
“I don’t know,” Brother Victor answered. “It is safe to say that Patterland will enter a dark age unlike anything seen in generations. We need to re-establish contact with the senior magi in the spring. They are the only ones who comprehend what she is, and know what she is capable of doing.”
James nodded, and turned to head down into the tower. “Come Brother Victor. Some strong whisky and hot food will do us both good.”
Brother Victor followed him. “You know,” he said, “no guilt you may feel can compare to what the Betrayer must be experiencing now, to what he will have to face every day for the rest of his life.”
James spat on the icy stones as they descended into the tower. “Betrayer,” he growled. “Death is not a good enough fate for him.”
Brother Victor made a low sound in agreement. “I suspect he would agree with you, your majesty. I shudder to think what kind of existence he leads, if indeed he is still alive.”
------
William trembled in fear. He was standing slightly behind Ursula while they waited for a visiting party of dignitaries – that was all he’d been told about what was going on. They were standing in one of the many great-rooms of the royal palace. It had recently been redecorated with lavish purple curtains and small statues of lithe women that rested in the corners. Ursula was wearing a long midnight-blue dress that brought out the colour of her eyes. The sensuous curve of her hip partly obscured William’s view of the main doors. Two young scribes sat toward the back of the room and several Amazonian guard-women stood near the doors. Olga was with them. She was a big woman, and William had found her large even before he’d shrunk. Now she intimidated him in her armour. He’d caught her staring at him several times in the last few days. When he’d made eye contact with her, she hadn’t looked away, but had just met his eyes without any real expression. He was getting used to being smiled at, smirked at, or even pointed at by the various women in the court, but Olga’s stare was rather more unsettling. One maid had told him that Olga wanted to get taller and had asked the Queen for help in growing.
Ursula mostly ignored him as she chatted to an attendant about some new temple being built by Ylva. William didn’t really know what it was all about. He’d been kept in the dark about most of the governing activities, often left in Ursula’s chambers or made to entertain various duchesses or baronesses by serving them tea or wine. His life had become a series of endless humiliations. Ursula hadn’t had sex with him since she’d taken his crown, but she had forbidden him to touch himself. As a result he was constantly pent up, and the few days when she let him sit at her side in the throne room, he’d had to mentally struggle not to explode in orgasm at her stroking touches and whispers in his ear. He knew it was a form of mental conditioning, of control, but he was so horny all the time that he had a hard time focusing on how to keep his head clear.
Ursula shifted her weight and her hip blocked the door as he heard it being pulled open. He tried to peek past her to see what was happening, feeling very unimportant.
“Your majesty,” a guard said. “May we present the leader of a southern island pirate fleet – commonly known as the Black Widow Armada.”
William looked up at his wife in shock. What would she want with these sea-whores? They were known to be ruthless pirates of the high seas. The story most commonly told was that the founding leaders of the Black Widow Armada had once been members of a brothel or harem in the far south. During a voyage at sea they had killed their masters and taken control of a number of ships. Since then, they had stolen more ships and recruited more members – all women of dubious character. They were wild and criminal, attacking innocent ships in the night and killing the crew or selling some off as slaves to traders across the Eastern Sea.
“Greetings and welcome to Femnoria,” said Ursula. “I am Queen Ursula, the new queen of these lands.”
“We have heard rumours of your rise, Queen Ursula,” a voice answered. It was thick with accent – a woman’s voice. William was forced to listen from his place; standing behind his wife like the commoner he now was, unable to see around her.
The unseen woman continued. “I am Mahava, admiral of the Black Widow Armada. I received your invitation to court via the messenger pigeon you dispatched. I was surprised. To us, these lands are cold and uninviting, and ruled by cocksure men who control their women with oppressive rules and customs. We did not think they allowed women to sit on their thrones, or bothered to consider the southern lands.”
“Times have changed Mahava. I am now the Queen of this realm, and my sisters and I have renamed it Femnoria. Patterland is no more, and soon there will be many changes here that will make Femnoria a very important place in the world. I would like to have you at my side, to help us in our efforts,” Ursula said.
“What sort of changes?” Mahava said. William could here suspicion and caution in her voice.
Ursula laughed and stepped to the side. “Well, for example, take a look at my husband and one of the former kings here.”
William was finally given a clear view. Three enormous ebony-skinned women stood before him. Each woman was extremely tall, fit, and muscular – yet still supple and feminine. Two had thick black braids. One of the women had beads in her braids made out of wood, stone, or glass. Another woman had a stylized 'fro, twisted into shapes blown by the salty sea air. They wore black leather sewn into short kilts and tight tops, but had been forced to don some wool overcoats to deal with the cooler weather in the north. The overcoats had been left at the door and the women stood looming over him in their leather with a large amount of skin showing.
One of the pirates, who William realized was Mahava, stepped forward. Her head was covered in glossy black braids that hung down to her mid-back. The braids were bound together in a thick bundle as a ponytail. She was beautiful but fierce looking, with dark black eyes and full lips. A crossbow was slung across her back and she had a curved scimitar resting on her hip. No doubt she had other weapons hidden on her elsewhere. She looked down at him for a moment and William felt her eyes moving over his small frame. William wanted to run back behind Ursula and hide from Mahava’s gaze. From his eye-level, Mahava’s bare taut smooth belly was right in his face.
“This is one of the kings of Patterland?” Mahava asked, giving a small laugh. Her accent was exotic and strange to William’s ears, but he could tell she was excited. “He is no bigger than a boy.”
“Was,” said Ursula. “He was one of the three kings of the former kingdom of Patterland. Only one of their triumvirate remains in rebellion to the new order, and he should not be able to hide for much longer. This man is my husband. I find his new size more agreeable. He is a commoner now under our law.”
Mahava put her hand on William’s head and he shook with fear as he felt her sharp nails graze his scalp. “Mmm…this is excellent,” she said. “You have more men like this?”
“We will, soon,” Ursula said. “He is the first.”
William felt a rising sense of fear upon hearing his wife’s words. Was she planning to shrink other men in the kingdom? He felt the deep guilt of his betrayal bubble back up, like a rising tension that never quite died away. He gulped back emotions as Mahava cupped his neck, feeling his size.
“He would sell for much coin in distant lands,” Mahava said, looking to her two companions. They nodded and stared down at William hungrily.
“Kneel before Admiral Mahava Billy,” Ursula said. “Show her your respect.” Her tone indicated she was not willing to tolerate any delay.
William slowly lowered to his knees before the Amazonian-pirate, his eye-level dropping to her smooth mid-thigh. She wore knee-high boots and she stepped even closer to him. He could now see up her short leather kilt, and noticed a black leather thong covering her vagina. The piece of leather disappeared between her big, fit, smooth ass cheeks. A visible camel-toe bulged around the sides of her thong and a streak of moisture glistened on one dark inner thigh. Mahava was aroused. William averted his eyes to the floor quickly, before he was noticed, combatting feelings of inferiority and fear. How could Ursula be doing this? What did she intend?
“You see he is quite obedient to me. So you can imagine the possibilities and changes we are considering here in Femnoria. A reduction in size for all the men of Femnoria is something we intend to carry out. But it will take time, and effort. We have only recently consolidated our hold on the palace and capital. My sisters and I are spreading our influence over the land, but it is a gradual process. We are in need of sea-going forces, and we need to be able to trade without the meddling of other nearby powers. I would like you at my side Mahava. I am willing to pay you to raid our neighbours and carry out trade for Femnoria. You would essentially serve as Femnoria’s navy in a sense.”
Mahava shifted her weight slightly and William noticed her thick thighs flex as she did. “I want men like this – slaves – and gold; and I want to be given land and a port to base my vessels in,” she said.
Ursula nodded. “Of course, this is a reasonable arrangement. You will serve Femnoria loyally if you are given these things?”
William gasped. Ursula was bringing this pirate, a known sea-bitch, the terror of the southern seas, into the very halls of power in the palace! She was promising to shrink more men and sell them into slavery, just to gain the allegiance of a foreign criminal. He clutched at his hair in frustrated impotence.
Mahava glanced down at the tiny pale man at her feet. “Your husband does not seem pleased by our agreement,” she smiled, her full lips parting to reveal perfect white teeth.
“Aww…what’s wrong Billy?” Ursula mocked. “You don’t like my decision?”
The two women laughed together as William knelt between them and whimpered. “You can’t just sell men to her!” he said. “They are our people, our subjects.”
“They are MY people, Billy. You gave your crown over to me, remember? You have no subjects anymore. I will only make those who oppose me into slaves, for now. If those men who oppose me are too stubborn to accept my will, then perhaps they will learn to with an adjustment in their size, and adjustment in their roles.” Ursula bent down and gripped William’s hair in her fingers. “Don’t make me loan you to Admiral Mahava as a lesson, little husband.”
Admiral Mahava moaned, watching. “Yes, I would very much like to have a man that size please me. I have never been with a king before,” she said.
William shut his mouth. Mahava’s hand was toying with the hem of her leather kilt and he could tell she was extremely turned on. William felt Ursula’s grip in his hair and he knew he was walking on thin ice. “Please, my Queen. Please don’t…”
“Are you scared of Admiral Mahava Billy?” Ursula asked.
William tried to nod, but her hold on his hair was too tight. “Yes…”
“Yes what?”
“Yes, your majesty. I am scared of Admiral Mahava.”
Ursula moaned into his ear. “Good. You should be. She is much more powerful than you are, and much more high ranked.”
Admiral Mahava licked her full upper lip. She had never felt this kind of power before, even when she’d defeated enemy captains in battle or thrown them off the plank. It was intoxicating. She wanted more. This was the best thing that had ever happened to her since she’d won her freedom from the harem and brothels so many years ago. She could feel the possibility that she might become more than a pirate. She might become a seriously powerful force in the world, the leader of a navy, even a sort of aristocrat. Mahava fought the urge to grab the ex-king and drag him off to her quarters. “I can forgive his insolence, if he shows me he knows his place. If he kisses me…here,” she said, lifting her kilt slightly and pointing at the crotch of her black leather thong.
William was shocked by the pirate’s lack of body shame. Her crude raider life and slave background was showing. But Ursula lifted him partly to his feet, her hand under his arm. “Give Admiral Mahava a kiss Billy. Show her that you are sorry for your insolent words.”
William squirmed a bit as his wife pushed him closer to Mahava’s leather thong, pushing his head under her raised kilt skirt. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He was a king! Mahava’s tight thong pulsed as she flexed her sex. He could smell it, the scent of pussy and sea-salt mixed with leather and an unknown musk. This was a strange woman from a strange land. “But…but…” he stammered softly.
“Do it Billy, or I will shrink you smaller,” Ursula said. “Would you like her vagina to be even bigger compared to you? Prove to me you can still be useful to a woman. Maybe I’ll let you kiss me there too sometime.”
William felt terror in his stomach at the idea of getting even smaller than he already was. He obeyed. He leaned forward, pressing his lips against the thin black leather of Admiral Mahava’s thong, her strong dark thighs on either side as he kissed. Mahava moaned deeply and grabbed his small head in her hand, gripping it while Ursula held his bicep. “That’s it Billy, kiss her nice and good,” Ursula whispered into his ear.
He could feel Mahava’s pussy flexing and pulsing under the leather, much bigger than any sex he’d ever kissed. The deep musk of Mahava’s vagina filled his nose and she pushed her pelvis forward, mashing his nose into her thong, into a camel-toe cleft that quickly deepened as she shifted her hips.
“Get in there, boy,” Mahava moaned. “Ohh…yes, you would make a perfect slave for my long voyages.”
Women were now far more powerful than him and this moment was making that fact deeply clear, as he was forced to debase himself while so many witnesses watched in amusement, even arousal. If more men became like him, he didn’t know what would happen to the realm or society. Mahava reluctantly released his head. “You are forgiven,” she sighed.
Ursula yanked him back and stood up to her full height. “There. Now be quiet and go back to my chambers while I talk with the Admiral.”
Mahava stared at William as he walked out of the room, flanked by two guards who would make sure he did as he had been told. Mahava straightened her kilt out and adjusted the large scimitar on her hip. She tossed her braids and turned to face William’s ambitious wife. The doors closed and William was no longer privy to what was going on between the two women. He went back to Queen Ursula’s keep, his head filled with new worries and fears.
He needed to get a message out of the palace somehow, in order to let any members of the resistance know what was going on. He needed to find a way to be of use, to help undo what he’d done. They had to be warned. William paced the bedchamber while he tried to think, feelings of uselessness and humiliation nibbling away at his psyche.
He tried to push out the memory of Mahava’s prodigious pussy mound pressing into his face while Ursula held him at just the right level for the pirate. His cock twitched and he stared down at it. “No! No, I have to focus. James is out there, with all the other men of court. There must be something I can do, someone who might help me,” he whispered to himself.
Finally, he got an idea.
Chapter 10
William lay in the dark, while his wife slept beside him. Ursula had rolled back to her side of the bed several minutes ago, after spending at least three hours with her soft thigh thrown over him. He couldn’t complain. In fact, he was still erect from the warm silky weight of her long leg on him. She given him kisses and then quickly fallen asleep after coming to the bed, where he’d been laying and trying to plan. She acted as if nothing was out of the ordinary, as if she wasn’t forging an alliance with a known pirate, as if she hadn’t completely humiliated and degraded him in the open view of a crowd of courtiers. But William also understood the situation. He was just a commoner now, at least according to his wife, and he was becoming more like a servant to her by the day, perhaps lower than that. He needed to get word to King James that he could be useful to whatever resistance movement might exist. He needed to let them know he was alive.
William slipped from the bed to the floor. An expensive rug cushioned his toes. He looked about, reminded yet again of his new size. Everything in the once familiar room seemed oversized. He still hadn’t gotten used to how small he was now. The bed was high off the floor. The bedposts seemed more like the thickness of tree trunks and the wardrobe towered higher than was practical, at least to William. He avoided lighting any lamps and made his way by memory to the door. He knew there would be a guard posted. He paused beside the door and listened. He heard them shifting in their armour as they stood outside the door. Instead, William went to the fireplace. Pressing a nondescript brick set just to the right of the mantle, he caused a small fissure to open in the wall. It was an old escape route that an early king had put into this keep. William had rarely used it, but in this case it allowed him to circumvent the guards.
He stepped down into the unlit gloom, feeling his way along. He descended down, down into the keep’s lower levels. When he saw a faint glow coming from a crack in the wall, he pushed another brick and stepped quietly into the kitchens. There was no one here at this hour, and William walked past hanging flanks of dried meat and a net full of onions. He emerged into a hallway and carefully made his way toward the central palace complex. Before long he was at his destination: the magi quarters and library. He grasped the gleaming circular brass handle and pulled the door open. It was surprising light and even he was able to open it with ease. William stepped in, expecting some sort of gatekeeper, but the chamber was empty. He noticed three doors leading away from the large circular foyer. The double-door in the middle was slightly ajar. Dim candlelight glowed within. Creeping forward, William peeked around the door and looked into the library of the magi.
The usual bubbling beakers and strange ingredients sat on tables in the middle of the room, and high bookshelves lined the walls. He’d been here many times, but not much in the recent year or two. He couldn’t really remember if anything had changed. Sorcery was a mystery to him, but he did notice that there were some out-of-place new objects littered around the space: golden figurines of various creatures and humans, a number of large crystal balls, and a huge bubbling cauldron in the fireplace. Merlivax had never used any of these items, as far as William could recall. He wondered what Helga had been doing down here with the new magus, Zeridda. William started to realize he’d been completely ignorant of the machinations of Ursula’s many followers for far too long. Yet now he suspected that Helga had been a major player in Ursula’s rise, along with Ylva and Olga. She’d been present at Ursula’s coronation and when he’d foolishly handed over his crown to her. But William simply couldn’t be everywhere at once to keep an eye on all her people. Perhaps if he’d been more suspicious in the early days of their marriage…
As he moved into the library, he heard quiet conversation coming from an antechamber in the back. William picked out a woman’s voice. It was definitely Helga’s. He could also make out the voice of a man, but it was timid and defensive.
“Come on, there must be something you haven’t taught me yet Zeridda,” Helga said. “Surely that’s not all you learned in the academy, in your apprenticeship.”
“I swear, I’ve told you everything. Please, don’t make me any smaller! I’ve done everything you asked.”
“You had to be persuaded more times that I would have preferred.” Helga’s voice rose slightly, yet it retained a sultry tone. “It’s your own fault you’re this size little wizard-boy. You really are a disappointment.”
“I’m sorry,” Zeridda said. He sounded like a chastised student.
“Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry Lady Helga,” he said.
“That’s better,” Helga purred.
William shook his head. This was not good. Zeridda was teaching Helga his skills? She would be a formidable threat even in ordinary circumstances with that kind of knowledge. He wondered if Zeridda has been reduced in size similar to his own misfortune. He felt a growing urgency to get a message out to James as he scanned the shelves with his eyes. He could hear Helga and Zeridda talking quietly in the background as he looked, moving quiet as a cat – something that was far easier at his new size.
At last he spotted it – a small silver object rested on a lower shelf. It was shaped like a wild bear that was clutching a large chunk of polished crystal in its paws. The device was dusty and probably hadn’t been used since the last war. He quickly pocketed the talisman and began to move toward the door.
“If you’re unable to teach me anything new, then you have no more purpose in the palace. We don’t need you anymore,” Helga said.
William hesitated and then he heard footsteps – slippers walking across the floor. He quickly darted behind a table full of bubbling multi-hued liquids, peeking through the glassware to see Helga emerge from the back of the library, dragging a small man in loose flowing robes behind her by the wrist. Zeridda barely came up to Helga’s lower ribcage, perhaps the undersides of her perky breasts. He was perhaps only a few inches taller than William. But William knew that Zeridda had once been much taller than this. Now he looked more like one of the legendary halflings of children’s tales.
“What are you doing Lady Helga?” Zeridda asked.
“I know you’re not telling me something, magus. I know there are things you have hidden from me, like the passwords to the academy doors, the secret of teleportation, the male method for summoning animals and plants.”
William urged Zeridda on silently, hoping he would be able to stand up to Helga. This looked like an argument they had had many times. But his hopes were not high. Helga was wearing a hunter-green silk night robe, cinched at her narrow waist so that it accentuated her hips and swelling bust line. Her thick long red hair tumbled over her shoulders and down her back in flowing locks. Her eyes glimmered a pale green to match her robe. Helga had light creamy skin that looked impossibly smooth and healthy. It was like she was made out of distilled moonlight and fire. She seemed to almost glow in the dim light of the library, and William felt himself becoming hard involuntarily.
“I can’t tell you that,” Zeridda finally said, he voice soft. “I can’t betray everything, everyone.”
Helga laughed richly. “Oh? Don’t want to be known as a betrayer like your former King Willy-Billy?” she teased.
William felt hot emotion surge up in his throat and he forced himself to remain silent. He couldn’t fail at this crucial moment.
Zeridda shook his head. “No, you can’t make me.”
Helga put her hands on her hourglass hips and looked down at Zeridda. “Fine. If you won’t help me, I’ll have to put you to some other use,” she said. A dark smile spread across her pink lips, as an idea came to her.
“What…what do you mean?”
“I mean, it’s time for me to teach you some magic for once, some magic Ursula helped me access. It’s time for you to become a part of me Zeridda. We’ve worked together for so long,” she said. “It’ll be easier this way. Just let me show you.”
Helga’s expression was one of hunger. Her eyes gleamed as she stepped closer to Zeridda, forcing him to back up a step. She began to chant softly, lifting her hands to either side of Zeridda’s small head. Her fingertips began to glow in an eerie bluish light. William’s mouth opened in shock as he watched Zeridda squirm in place, as if something was holding him, preventing him from running.
“What…what is this? Lady Helga what are you doing?” Zeridda’s voice was tinged with panic and confusion.
Helga grabbed a beaker from the table, her hand coming disturbing close to William’s hiding place, on the other side of the cluttered surface. The blue liquid in the beaker steamed mysteriously as she grabbed Zeridda’s neck. She pinched his nose and William could see that the small magus was actually squirming a little now, fighting her sorcery. Helga began to pour the potion into Zeridda’s mouth, forcing him to swallow it down. He gagged and coughed on the bright unnatural liquid as she stroked his neck, coaxing the potion down, draining the contents into his mouth.
“That’s it Zery, drink it all down for Lady Helga,” Helga cooed.
The potion was gone and William could see it was already having an effect. Zeridda looked sick, and he could see a glowing roil in the small man’s belly, glowing even through his clothes. Zeridda let out a disturbing moan of discomfort and Helga laughed darkly.
“Little wizard, can you feel it? Can you feel the pull?”
Zeridda shook his head, a sign of protest more than anything. He looked up at Helga and tried to utter some incantation, but Helga lifted her hand and silence him with a few echoing chants. It seemed that she was overpowering Zeridda with a mixture of stolen magus skills and her own secret sorcery. Witchcraft, William realized.
“I’ll never get tired of being able to silence men like that,” she giggled, as she stepped closer to Zeridda. She loomed over him as she began to uncinch her belt, opening her elegant robe. She was turned partly away from William, so he could only see Zeridda’s eyes widen at the undoubtedly spectacular sight of Helga’s flawless body.
“Mmm…like what you see Zery? I know you’ve dreamed about being inside me, ached for it. Haven’t you?”
Zeridda was still struggling, as the eerie glow seemed to be in his veins now. The potion was all through his body. Yet William could see the expression on his face. Helga was right of course. Only a eunuch could ignore a woman so beautiful. William was realizing how weak he was, like all men, to the allure of a pretty face, the sway of curvy hips.
“Come closer Wee-Wizard,” Helga said.
William watched as Zeridda stepped toward her, his body obeying jerkily. Helga immediately let out a deep moan of pleasure. That’s odd, thought William. Zeridda couldn’t have done much yet.
He saw Zeridda flail in apparent shock, and Helga bucked against him, as if she was trying to hold herself in position.
“Oh gods, no!” Zeridda whimpered.
In the dimly flickering candlelight, Helga’s robe fell down and pooled at her ankles. William nearly screamed when he saw the sight revealed to his eyes. Zeridda was...melting. His skin – his entire body seemed to be merging into Helga’s curvy body. He was flailing as his legs partly merged into her smooth perfect thighs. He pushed out with a small hand and it sunk into her pale abdomen, merging, blending with her form. Helga moaned again, her back arching as Zeridda tried to resist.
“Let go Zery; join with me. Become a part of me. Add to my POWER,” she said, her voice rising in a seductive crescendo.
William was in emotional agony. He wanted to help Zeridda, to stop this. But if he dared show himself, he knew he would be doomed. He could do nothing but watch as Helga absorbed Zeridda, as she consumed him in a nightmarish display of powerful witchcraft.
Zeridda flailed and convulsed as he was drawn further in, sinking into Helga’s supple flesh. His legs were disappearing into her thickening thighs. As he melted further into Helga’s body, William noticed that she was growing larger. She was literally adding his mass and essence to her own. But it was not an equitable transfer. It was as though Zeridda was dissolving away and flowing into Helga, causing her to bulge and grow as she fed off his essence. She moaned and rose several inches taller as Zeridda sunk into her body. Her breasts swelled out and Zeridda’s head sunk into her deep cleavage. She put a hand on the back of his head, and pulled him against her, between her breasts.
Zeridda squirmed and then ripples of liquid skin curled over him, wrapping him in momentarily mutable flesh. He sunk into Helga’s soft curves, disappearing except for a human shaped contour along her frame. William could see Zeridda inside of Helga, an embossed form that seemed to writhe under her skin as she shivered and grew. None of this made any sense! He could feel the heavy weight of sorcery in the chamber. William swallowed back his horror and disgust as Zeridda’s form continued to melt away, fading in relief against Helga’s silhouette. Every now and then a hand-shaped form would push out from inside of Helga, or a head or shoulder. She used her own hand to push the bulging attempts back into her body. She was visibly struggling to contain Zeridda within her. Helga’s expression showed how much effort she was expending, both mental and physical. It seemed to be taking all her concentration and William wondered if she would even notice if he ran from the room right now. William didn’t dare take the risk, as he watched the spectacle unfolding before him. After a while, Helga stroked her smooth belly and looked down at herself.
“Let go,” she moaned. “That’s it, give up. There is only me. Only me.”
William realized the truth. She’d won. Zeridda was gone.
Helga stood panting, her pale smooth body covered in a sheen of sweat that reflected the warm candlelight. She swayed a little.
“Holy fuck, I did it,” she said. “It worked.” William could barely hear her whisper. The only sound other than Helga’s voice was the soft bubble of heated potions on the table. It was nearly silent in the library.
“An entire man. His hopes, his dreams, his lifeforce…MINE,” Helga moaned. “Ylva will be so jealous.”
William was trapped. He had to wait for Helga to leave the room or he would be caught for sure. How much time had passed? He hoped Ursula had not woken up. She would want to know where he was, and what he’d been doing.
Helga picked up her robe and squeezed herself back into it. It fit poorly, barely containing her huge tits and round butt. She let it hang, untied, on her sexy larger frame. “I can feel his consciousness fading,” she whispered to herself, as she walked out. William couldn’t hear her anymore as she walked away, leaving him alone in the library.
He waited for a while before creeping to the door. He clutched the talisman he had come for and slipped out into the dark hall, which was luckily still deserted. Panting and experiencing a kind of post-traumatic shock, William made his way quietly back the direction he’d come. He slipped into Ursula’s chambers, noting that she was till fast asleep in bed. William gently slipped the figurine into the bottom of a drawer full of his undergarments, covering it up, before closing the door quietly. He walked over to the bed and sat down slowly, so as not to disturb his sleeping wife. The Queen of Femnoria shifted and rolled toward him. William froze in fear, worried she was awake, but her breathing didn’t change. Ursula continued to sleep. William stayed awake. He’d done it. Now he just had to find a good time to use the device.
There was no way he could sleep now. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see the panicked face of Zeridda as he was absorbed into Hegla’s enchanted body – the undoing of a man. Zeridda had been completely sublimated into Helga, folded into her power. What was Helga capable of now? In fact, what was Ursula capable of? William worried the night away as his wife slept peacefully beside him.
Chapter 11
Bryan was a traitor.
For over two years he had worked to help destroy the country he lived in. Ever since Queen Ursula had declared the foundation of Femnoria, Bryan had known he needed to do whatever it took to help restore the old order. The institutions of Patterland had largely crumbled away and those that survived were eroding more every day as the Witch Queen and her Sisterhood expanded their control into the various provinces and regions of the realm. Two years of rule had allowed them to make massive changes to the land he grew up in. Of course, Bryan did not conceive of himself as a traitor, even if that was what he was under the new laws. He saw himself as a valiant resistance fighter, fighting for the Last True King of Patterland against an evil usurper. But treason tends to lie in the eye of the beholder, and it was no longer possible to trust every fellow citizen to see things from the perspective of the King.
Bryan fled with his parents shortly after Queen Ursula’s rise to power. His father had taken the family to the mountains, securing a place in a valley near to King James’s secret hideout. Bryan hadn’t been more than 15 or 16 at the time, which meant he had only been moderately affected by the ‘Boy Curse’. Ever since Ursula’s rise, many young men and boys had begun to grow at a much slower pace, and in a different way than before, with many not reaching the heights expected. It had taken at least a summer or two before people began to notice the change. For Bryan, it had meant an almost complete freeze on his increase in height from the month Ursula came to power. He was lucky to already well-developed when it began, as he was now around 5’6” with decent musculature – not a too terrible fate. He worried about the long-term implications for the younger boys who had yet to hit puberty. Many teenaged boys were having trouble growing taller than five feet in height. Bryan, now close to 19 years old, was slim and short for his age, due to the curse, but his appearance still resembled that of his age, if a bit softer. He had close-cropped light brown hair, hazel eyes, and a slight build.
Fortunately, this came with some advantages for The Cause. Bryan was light on his feet, agile, and able to climb many trees that a larger man couldn’t. He had been given a quick steed by King James’ officers, once they learned of his sharp eyesight and skill in art. Bryan worked as a scout, traveling the land with a looking class, an enchanted cloak of stealth, sketching supplies, and various other necessities. He was often alone in the field for weeks at a time, moving through the geography formerly known as Patterland, gathering and recording information for the resistance. He had been the first to report in detail on the presence of the Black Widow Armada at a coastal port. The intelligence led to the awareness that Queen Ursula had allied with the Armada and the all-female raider pirates who commanded it. More than an alliance, she had brought the Armada into Femnoria’s hierarchy as a sort of unofficial naval force.
He was also aware that male slaves were being exported via the Black Widow Armada in exchange for a vast amount of wealth and influence abroad. He had even seen cages with men inside – many of whom seemed to have been physically altered or reduced – being loaded onto the ships. But that had been over a year ago. It was difficult to get near the eastern coastal cities now. There were a growing number of lady soldiers patrolling the more established eastern roads and towns, especially near the capital of Paterburg. Bryan received orders from the command structure of the resistance, which were often guided by an unknown informant in the capital, or so the rumour went. But while his orders were occasionally very specific, he was free to scout according to his discretion much of the time. Typically, Bryan was told to investigate activities in a specific region or township.
This month, during the summer heat, was one of those times. Bryan had ridden north along the foothills of the mountains, sticking to back roads and country trails. He’d been told to investigate the quarry villages of the northwest hill country, to report on what he saw and assess the potential for support. He’d been on his own for nearly a week and had largely avoided being seen by anyone other than the occasional distant farmer. Bryan was used to spending long periods on the road, and was usually alone for the majority of the time. Every now and then he would spend time with a resistance cell or link up with another scout. But these were rare occurrences due to the danger involved to both parties. In the last few months at least two scouts had disappeared, and at least once when Bryan had gone to meet a resistance cell, he’d found their lair burned to the ground. He didn’t wait around to find out what had happened, terrified there might be someone keeping watch.
Bryan drew his horse up along a rough-hewn fence that bordered an old country road. He was on the west side of the road. He emerged from a thicket slowly to check for travelers. Seeing none, he allowed his mount to sidle up to the fence before he dismounted and pulled an apple from one of his saddlebags. From this spot, he had a clear view down the hill so that he couldn’t be caught unaware. Bryan stroked his horse’s neck as he bit into his juicy summer apple. This part of the country was sparsely populated. The northwest hill country consisted mainly of rolling rocky hills, rich with veins of marble, granite, quartz, and other valuable stone. But it was a hard place to grow food, and most locals either imported their food or mixed hunting and fishing into their lifestyles. Winters here were known to be fairly harsh, although Bryan thought little of them now after witnessing two full winters in the western mountains. Fortunately, his job allowed him to escape the high altitude blizzards, but most of the resistance was not so lucky.
Bryan tossed the remnants of his apple core into the bushes and wiped his hand on a dangling clump of broad leaves. Looking up, he saw a sign recognizable to any scout or tracker: smoke. It was a faint trail in an otherwise mostly blue summer sky. Moving so he could get a better view, Bryan’s gaze followed the smoke off toward a clump of trees on a hill in the distance. He pulled his horse back into the trees and took a map out of a waterproof container in his pack. Bryan scrutinized the map carefully and realized that the smoke must be coming from a small hamlet known as Lilac Meadows. It was located off of the Kings Road – now known as the Queen’s Road – and probably had less than 200 residents. Bryan put the map away and considered his options. He was obliged to check this out, but he wasn’t a fool. The fire could be a normal house fire, a forest fire, or it could be something else. Fires were often signs of battle or raids. Several years ago, a raid this far west could only have come from one of the neighbouring realms west of the mountains. Now, such raids were more likely to be domestic in origin.
Bryan stuck to the woods and made his way cautiously toward the source of the smoke. As he travelled, the sun sunk lower in the sky. He was careful to tie his horse up a significant distance from Lilac Meadows, before approaching on foot. The last rays of sunlight were casting long shadows across the ground by the time he found the edge of a clearing abutting the hamlet. He could smell the smoke now, and from his vantage point amid several leafy bushes Bryan was able to see that two or three buildings were on fire. The town’s small temple was already in ashes, along with a few other small buildings. He noticed that some houses were burning – one of which had obviously been the nicest home in the community. The community hall seemed to be intact. Bryan raised his looking glass and focused it toward the village square, he saw several men on their knees in the square, their wrists tightly bound with cords behind their back. All of the men had been stripped to their underwear and several seemed to have major bruises. They were all over the age of 30 – very likely the entire hamlet’s population of mature men.
He panned the field of vision to the right, and the door of the community hall suddenly swung open. A massive blonde warrior ducked under the doorframe, emerging into the setting sunlight wearing a full suit of leather and mail armour. Behind her were two figures wearing long robes – one in a black robe, the other in white. They were also obviously female, judging from their figures, but Bryan was unable to see their faces, which were hidden in shadows of their hoods. He twisted the looking glass to better focus on the enormous warrior, swallowing back his own nervousness as he realized who he was looking at. The woman fit every description he’d been given of Olga, the head of the Queen’s guard and her chief military commander. The information he’d been provided stated that Olga had always been a larger woman, supposedly a goat herder from the mountains, although there were rumours that she had a far more disturbing history. In any event, it was known that she’d found a way to grow significantly larger after the rise of Queen Ursula, and Bryan could see that this was not an exaggeration. Olga was holding her helmet in her left hand, while she spoke to the men kneeling in the square. She appeared to stand at least 6’8”, and was built thick and strong with large smooth thighs visible under he chain mail skirting. Her hair was pulled back into a thick blonde braid that hung down to her lower back. Bryan noticed that there were a number of other women in soldier gear standing around the edge of the square – Olga’s regiment no doubt.
Bryan stepped back into the trees and thought for a moment. Lilac Meadows was being subjugated to the new order, which wasn’t in itself a big surprise. The resistance knew that Ursula’s forces were likely to begin expanding control to this region soon. But it was surprising that the Queen’s highest ranking military commander, the head of her conventional armed forces, would be involved in this operation personally. Didn’t she have more important things to do than ransack some hamlet in a rural corner of the realm? Regardless, Bryan needed to do his job. He turned toward one of the more mature trees nearby and began to climb it. He used special hooks and his light physique to quickly scale the trunk until he was able to find a perch high in the canopy. From his new vantage point, Bryan was able to see much more of what was happening in Lilac Meadows. He pulled out his leather-bound sketchbook and began to jot down notes and quick drawings of what he observed.
What he witnessed was unsettling.
Women had not initially celebrated the rise of Queen Ursula. In fact, most had sided with their husbands and families amidst the common shock of regime change. News of chaos and collapsing ancient traditions did not sit well with the public. But the subjects of Patterland were used to deferring to authority. They lived in a monarchy, not one of the notoriously unstable democracies of the southern merchant city-states. It was known that royals and high-born often fought for control of the crown, and many people came to view Ursula’s sudden coronation as another version of that, despite the obvious differences with previous periods of interregnum strife. Commoners of all stripes began to accept Ursula as Queen once her armed soldiers, priests, and sorceresses started popping up all over the land. Symbolism mattered: flags, soldiers, coins – these icons quickly convinced the most pliant lowborn. The army officers of the old kings saw their pay abruptly cancelled, and many of them were loath to take up arms against Ursula’s forces, especially without proper remuneration.
Gradually, spreading outward from the capital, more towns and villages declared their allegiance to the new queen. Women were told that they would receive vast new privileges under the new regime, even commoner women. An academy known as the University of Femnoria was established in the capital, several months after Ursula’s coronation. Thousands of men were promised decent wages to work on the foundations of the enormous planned campus. They left their home villages and farms in the care of their wives and children. In reality, many found that they had ridden off to a sort of indentured servitude, as they were charged for their lodging, food, and other expenses, which often left them little money for anything else. Meanwhile, thousands of young women from across the land had travelled to attend classes at the new University. Classes were held all over the capital, which had been renamed Hypatiaberg, as a temporary measure until the first new university buildings could be opened. Over the past two years, court messengers and new societies proclaimed the new age of Femnoria in the provinces. Girls were encouraged by the crown to excel, and men were told that they should learn to tend to the fields and shops in order to compensate for centuries of misrule and oppression by the old triumvirate. New accounts of history were being spread through scrolls and public readings. Often, formal exams were held, pitting girls against boys in various subjects, with the top girl receiving land title or a scholarship and the top boy receiving tools or a construction job in the capital. The Boy Curse had also made many of the younger girls feel more confident about their physical strength and prowess.
Soon an explosion of divorces rippled through Femnoria, as many women – freed of their previous social obligations – decided to leave their husbands and attend the University, or to buy their own farm. Likewise, many of the most aggressive and belligerent women were rewarded for their behaviour by court magistrates and granted positions of power or appointed to provincial councils. The changes had been radical, but had come in phases carefully paced to allow for a rearrangement of the old norms. Often, by the time a group of men decided to fight back, it was too late. Bryan had known of at least three villages that had attempted to resist the new way of things. The consequence had been the arrival of a large task force, mostly soldiers, Many of the older men would be rounded up and taken away, and few returned, if any. Bryan had personally witnessed at least one such failed revolt in the southeast marshlands. As things progressed, women in Femnoria gained an increasing sense of entitlement about their new rights. In the space of just over two years, many were coming to prefer the new order. Bryan worried what might happen when the first University graduates began to return to their hometowns. Little was known about what was taught in the University of Femnoria, but the few bits of material that the resistance had uncovered – by way of one or two loyal female spies – did not bode well. The longer Ursula held power, the more changes she was able to make. If she wasn’t removed from power soon, it would be very difficult to return Femnoria to the old ways of Patterland.
All this was the reason for Bryan’s shock at what he witnessed at Lilac Meadows. Olga had turned to a number of young women standing at the side of the square. Some seemed to be from the hamlet and looked distraught, although at least two had smirks on their faces. The rest of the women were obviously members of Olga’s military party, but some of these women were wearing simple brown or grey robes that Bryan had seen before, each with a silver broach pinned to their chest. They wore student robes with the symbol of the new University. Olga had brought along observers from the University of Femnoria. Bryan sketched down an impression of what he saw in his looking glass, bracing himself on a thick branch with his left foot planted against the trunk. He saw one of the students – a pretty young brunette with her hair in a ponytail – ask Olga a question. The other students made notes in small booklets as Olga talked. She strode down toward the kneeling men and grabbed one of them by the neck forcing him to his feet. Bryan winced sympathetically as he focused his looking glass. Olga was holding the man by his arm as she spoke at length to the women in the square. She was instructing them, he realized. This wasn’t just a random raid. Lilac Meadows was some sort of example or lesson for these students.
Bryan could only speculate on what sort of lesson this was supposed to be. He shuddered and gave a momentary thanks to his patron in the Elemental Pantheon, making the sign of thanks with his hands. In another life, it might have been him in that square. “Poor bastards,” he whispered, as he watched. Several of the soldiers were wheeling forward wagons with cages mounted to them. Bryan knew what was coming next. The men would be put in the cages and taken away, and then a new mayor and council would be appointed from the women of the hamlet, before Olga departed. She would likely select a number of younger women for the University as well, and leave behind several soldiers to ensure her edicts were carried out. He watched the brunette student stand before the man held by Olga. She was studying him closely, but talking past him to the other students, whom Bryan noted had started to ask questions of their own. He felt disgusted by all this, knowing he could do nothing to stop it.
Then, as he panned his looking glass to the left, one of the two women in hooded robes behind Olga – the one in black – lifted her head as though in surprise. The open cowl abruptly turned toward him and Bryan could make out the outline of a woman’s jaw and full lips. Her eyes remained in shadow. The hairs on the back of his neck went up as he realized she was looking right at him. Her mouth curled up in a smile. She could see him. Bryan realized he had lingered for too long. His enchanted cloak of stealth was not impervious. Powerful magic could sniff it out. The two sorceresses with Olga must be instructors of a different sort, he realized – perhaps apprentices of Helga or Ursula herself. The woman in the black robes said something to Olga, but Bryan had shoved his sketchpad and looking-glass into his back. He scrambled down the tree, moving branch to branch before dropping to the mossy forest floor.
Bryan heard a horn echo in the distance, the sound of it reverberating through the warm summer air. They were coming for him. Bryan swallowed back his fear and pulled his cloak tighter around him. He started running through the forest, keeping to the shadows and skimming along fallen trees, trying to hide his trail while moving deeper into the thick woods. He had almost been spotted before, but had always managed to stay hidden when it mattered. This was the first time he’d ever been openly seen, spotted so directly by the Queen’s forces. He cursed his over-confidence. He never should have stayed in one place for so long!
Bryan leapt over a jagged rotting stump. He panted as he ran as fast as his light feet could carry him. Bryan knew that if he didn’t get away, he would likely envy the fate of the bound men in Lilac Meadows’ village square.
Chapter 12
Bryan had been running for hours. He was tired, panting as he moved through the forest, along the edge of green meadows, and over slow-running streams. Every so often he heard the sound of a battle-horn, coming closer. Each time Bryan heard the sound, he tried to alter his path to get away from it, but he had the distinct feeling that he was being herded, chased and corralled towards an end point. His suspicions were soon confirmed as he burst into a large open grassy field on a hill. He could see soldiers on horseback gripping torches, illuminated against the far tree line. They were waiting for him.
The sun was now completely beneath the horizon, its fading light filled the sky with pastel shades of purple, orange, and deep blue. Bryan staggered to a stop, but they had already spotted him. Bryan heard the thuds of more hooves in the forest behind him – a trap was closing. He had to get away. He had to get to his horse. He ran to the left but the distant soldiers immediately fanned out, working to cut off his escape routes. Bryan lowered himself into the high grass and pulled his enchanted cloak of stealth around his slim frame, becoming all but invisible in the shadows and grass. He felt like a frightened rabbit, staying perfectly still as the legs of a horse broke through the grass to his right. The horse stood in a small patch of flattened grass and its rider lifted a crackling torch high over her head, casting stark shadows in a pattern radiating out from her position.
Bryan sunk even lower, hugging the ground inside a patch of grass. He peered through rough stalks to watch the rider from under the cowl of his cloak. The rider was a fit woman, perhaps in her late twenties. Her black hair had been braided into cornrows against her scalp, and she wore brown leather armour attached with numerous clasps and buckles. A small shield hung from her saddle and she held the reigns of her mount in her left hand.
“I can’t see him. He was running in this area before we lost sight of him,” she yelled out to other riders.
A response came from a more distant rider. “He must be hiding, like a little field mouse.” Bryan heard the merry laughter of numerous women all around him fill the night air.
“Poor little mouse,” said the rider who was practically on top of him. She urged her horse into a slow walk, patrolling around the area, looking into the grass. But the sky had gone nearly black now, its deep blue coloration the only remnant of the departed day – and that was lost in the high contrast given off by her torch. It was night, and Bryan’s cloak was working well.
“Maybe he crawled back into the trees,” a woman said.
“But then Jade would have run across him. She was right on his heels.”
“Did she check the trees? Jasmynth said she first spotted him in a tree, spying on us like a pervert.”
“Oh a perverted mouse!”
“Or maybe a perverted chipmunk.”
“A squirrel?”
“No, a chipmunk!”
They all laughed again and several moments passed as horses pushed through the grass.
“Fuck, where did he go?” Growled the rider closest to him. “We need Jasmynth or one of her sisters here with their sorcery skills.”
Bryan held himself still as the woman pushed her horse within reaching distance of his position and then wandered off to the left. They were beginning to move away from him when a loud horn blast sounded nearby. Three short blasts of the horn sounded, likely to indicate that they’d spotted him or that he was nearby. Bryan hoped that the signal was not for more help, but he knew that more soldiers would be here soon regardless. He shimmied along the ground in a direction taking him away from the main cluster of searching soldiers, closer to the safety and darkness of the forest.
He crawled around a resting log and under a bush. Listening to the banter of the soldiers searching for him. His ears perked up as he heard new voices.
“Finally, someone who knows some sorcery.”
“But I’m just an apprentice.” A new voice demurred.
“Oh come on Cordelia, you’re one of the more advanced students. Jasmynth and Patricia are too far away. Do something!”
“Hmm…well maybe I could do something. I’m not good at spells of sight, but I’m real good at transformations, transmutations, and alterations.” Cordelia explained.
One of the soldiers sighed. “Fine whatever. We’re good at hitting and shooting and catching enemies. But we need to know where they are first!”
“Oh, I have an idea!” Cordelia said, ignoring the other woman. “I’ll shrink everything near us!”
“What?! Are you crazy? I don’t want to shrink!”
“Oh no, Sasha, I mean shrink all the male things!” Cordelia giggled.
“Oh, then do it!”
Bryan’s eyes widened, as he picked up the distant line of conversation. This was not good. He slipped into another stand of bushes, brushing spider webs from his face. He heard the woman identified as Cordelia begin to mutter a strange incantation. Despite her social awkwardness, she was apparently rather good at her craft. An eerie green glow began to flicker over the clearing from the direction of the soldiers. The strange light cast an unearthly pallor over the plant life.
“Whoa, you weren’t kidding Cordelia. You do know some stuff,” someone remarked. Cordelia continued to chant, her voice taking on a haunting echo, a supernatural reverberation. She spoke rhythmically, casting her spell.
Bryan felt his body begin to tingle and a wave of nausea washed over him. If he hadn’t been crawling, he might have fallen down. Fear raced through him as the plant life around him seemed to expand and grow. He realized Cordelia’s spell was working. He was shrinking!
“Fuck! My horse!” The voice identified as Sasha cried out. “Stop, you stupid idiot!”
The chanting abruptly halted.
“You shrunk my horse!”
“Mine too!” Several women were talking at once.
“Oh, sorry…” Cordelia said.
“I can’t believe you are so stupid. Look, now my horse looks like some sort of pigmy pony. By the goddess, you need to undo this right now.”
“I’m not sure I know how to do that exactly, not yet.” Cordelia replied.
“What?! Damnit!” Sasha cried. “How am I supposed to ride this thing now?
“I think your horse looks cute,” said another woman. “Look how small he is, aww…”
“Oh shut up, Jessica.”
The women began to argue and shout over each other.
Bryan sighed in relief, smirking a little. Served them right. He was saved, for the moment. But he had definitely been shrunk. He desperately wanted to stand up and assess how much damage had been done, but he didn’t dare do so in visual range of the soldiers. Still, even looking at his hand on the ground, there was a noticeable difference. He was no longer 5’6”. He doubted if he was even close to 5’0”. Bryan swallowed back his emotions. This was no time for self-pity. He took advantage of his smaller size and moved under a fallen tree to slip into the dark cover of the woods, putting his back against the trunk of a thick maple tree.
He picked up a fallen maple leaf and held his hand against it in the gloaming shadow. His hand fit within the outline of the leaf. Yes, he was much smaller now. He panted with fear while he listened to the continued laments and arguing of the young soldiers in the clearing behind him.
“Olga is going to have our heads.”
“It’s not my fault!”
“She won’t care whose fault it is. You know that. She’ll blame all of us. We fucking had him. He was right here! That little mouse-boy got away!”
Bryan smiled in the dark.
“Well, he’s an even smaller mouse now. Jasmynth said he was petite and agile. I bet he’s little now.”
“He can’t make it far.”
“Olga is going to be so pissed!” Someone said, returning to the group’s mutually held fear.
Bryan crept deeper into the woods, leaving the arguing soldiers behind. His cloak of stealth dragged on the ground behind him, now too large for his frame. In fact all of his clothes and gear now hung loose on his body. He’d have to attend to this problem as soon as possible as it would make him easy to track come morning.
He was soon deep in the black depths of the woods. Patches of starlight glimmered in the night through gaps in the thick canopy overhead. Bryan found a hollow at the base of an ancient gnarled oak tree, and curled up in the small space like an animal, wrapping his cloak around him in the dark musty roots and dirt. He tried to get some sleep. He would need his rest at dawn if he were going to escape this situation alive.
------
Bryan opened his eyes to dim dawn light filtering through the trees. He’d managed to sleep in fitful segments during the night, but his fear had kept him from getting any real rest. He crawled out of the hollow and stood up slowly. He covered his mouth to suppress the sound of his own scream.
In the light of day it was clear; he was much smaller now.
Bryan doubted he was significantly taller than 4’0” – maybe only by a four or five inches at most. The forest seemed different at this size. The trees around him towered overhead in a new way, and little things now seemed more substantial than before. Forest mushrooms once barely higher than his ankle now sprouted as high as his mid-calf. Many bushes were taller than him and seemed more like small multi-trunked trees. His cloak hung down awkwardly along with his clothing and belt. Bryan shuffled over to a nearby rotting stump and took a seat. He took off his cloak and pulled his knife from his loose belt. The handle felt thick and the knife was heavy in his hand, but he adjusted his grip. Bryan began to alter his cloak, cutting off the bottom and carefully working to reduce its size so that it would be more appropriate to his new physique. He also punched several new holes in his belt so that he could tighten it around his now very slim waist. He shoved his gloves into a carrying sack along with his boots. Both were now useless for the moment.
Bryan altered his garments using the tools he had at hand until he felt he could travel effectively again, and more importantly with some level of indiscretion. In fact, he was so diminutive that it would probably be easier to keep a low profile now, not that the cost had been worth it. He was so small! Bryan sighed. It was his own fault for getting spotted. He should have known better than to sit openly in that tree while one of the Queen’s most trusted lieutenants ransacked a village with a host of soldiers, students, and two witches. Bryan made a quick journal entry in his sketchbook to explain the events of the past day or two. He then stood up and walked around the area near his overnight sheltering spot, looking for any obvious signs of his presence. He knew that a good tracker would find this place, but he wanted to make it a challenge at least. Bryan brushed out various signs of his presence while getting used to walking on bare feet.
He realized that there was no way he could return to his horse now. Olga’s soldiers would have undoubtedly seized it and were likely waiting there in ambush for him. He was going to have to travel on foot. He only hoped that the soldiers would give up on him and focus on other tasks. He was only one scout. Maybe they would decide he wasn’t worth the continued effort.
The sound of a horn in the distance later that morning dispelled any such hope.
Bryan had only been on the move for a couple hours when he heard the familiar sound of the horn behind him. They’d likely found his trail. He walked faster, but he noticed that at his new size it was harder to cover the same amount of ground as fast as he was used to. On the other hand, he was lighter on his feet and left much fainter prints, which would make him quite difficult to trace even by an experienced tracker. Bryan’s stomach growled as he travelled, reminding him of how long it had been since he’d eaten a solid meal. Olga’s forces were pursuing him like quarry; relentless in their search for the man they’d caught spying on their activities. He knew that few other officers in the queen’s army would be this dogged. Bryan needed to get to a safe place soon or they would eventually catch him.
It had been perhaps nearly two or three hours when Bryan suddenly stumbled to a halt. His senses were on high alert. Bryan inhaled deeply, attempting to calm his nerves, when he suddenly caught the scent of cooking onions and red meat. His already hungry stomach responded immediately, and his saliva glands kicked in. Bryan lifted to his toes and raised his nose slightly, sniffing at the wind. He stepped cautiously toward the smell, and began to push through the underbrush, following his nose. Perhaps some outdoorsmen were cooking a meal, or there was a farm nearby where he could beg, trade, or steal for some food. Just a little bit. The smell was amazing. He pushed aside a thick bush and stepped past it when suddenly something wrapped around his right foot and yanked him into the air.
Bryan screamed in surprise as he was upended and pulled skyward by his foot. He kicked the air and swayed side to side, dangling from his ankle. He realized he had stepped in some sort of trap, a snare of the type one might use to catch wild game. This was not good.
Using his core muscles, Bryan attempted to curl upward so that he might get his foot loose. But it was hard to reach the tight noose around his ankle as he swayed from the rope, which had been tied to the top of a flexible sapling. Bryan tried an alternative strategy, reaching downward for the ground, a branch, or something to give himself leverage. It was no use. He was too high off the forest floor. His free leg kicked uselessly at the air, causing his body to spin and twirl dizzyingly. As he bounced on the rope, the motion caused a small copper bell to ring merrily at the top of the sapling.
“Hey, I think we caught something!” A woman’s voice cried out past the foliage.
Bryan lunged upward, trying to reach the noosed rope in desperation.
“Oh good. I could use some fresh meat tonight,” said someone else. “Olga’s been pushing us so damn hard.”
Branches were pushed aside and a fit soldier appeared. From Bryan’s perspective she appeared upside down and he mostly saw her feet and legs as he swayed on the rope. She stopped abruptly, stunned by the sight of a small man caught in her small-game snare.
“No fucking way,” the woman said quietly.
“Please…” Bryan began. But she didn’t even hear him.
The woman turned her head back the way she’d come, shouting. “I found him! I found the scout!”
There was a sudden commotion as several more women began to burst into the small open area where the trap had been set, between large bushes and undergrowth. Bryan was soon surrounded by a number of soldierly females, some carrying swords, others with crossbows or longbows on their backs.
“That’s it? That can’t be him,” said a woman with a dark brown hair cropped at her shoulders. “He’s so small.”
Bryan felt a brief moment of hope, mixed with shame as around ten women stared down at him. His body rotated on the rope and he was treated to a blurring panorama of fit tanned calf muscles and smooth thighs.
“Move aside.” A commanding voice spoke from behind the circle around him.
“Isabel! I…I was trying to catch us some small game for breakfast, but I think I might have found the scout,” said the woman who’d discovered him. Two of the other women giggled.
Bryan closed his eyes in despair. He knew he was caught.
Several of the women stepped to the side to admit Isabel. Bryan peered upward from his awkward position, and spotted the familiar black cornrow braids of the same woman who had nearly captured him the previous evening. Isabel stepped close to Bryan and from his low bobbing angle he was given a view of her strong legs, and then a glimpse under her kilt of a tight leather thong that disappeared between her firm butt cheeks. Isabel grabbed the rope he was hanging from and leaned down to look at him more closely.
“It was dark last night. But I think you might be right. This really could be him. Look at his cloak, it keeps camouflaging with the bushes,” Isabel said. She held her hand up next to Bryan’s cloak and the fabric shifted its tone and hue to roughly mimic her skin. “This must be how he disappeared on us!”
“That’s sneaky,” said another woman.
“Yes it is,” Isabel agreed. “Is it you little mouse? Have we caught ourselves a sneaky little spying mousy? Olga will be so pleased.”
Several of the women laughed.
“Cut him down Jade,” said Isabel.
Another brunette with wavy shoulder-length hair stepped forward, brandishing a knife. Jade sawed through the rope and Bryan fell to the ground on his hands and knees. He stood up quickly, hoping to make a run for it, but the women were standing in a very tight circle around him. Even more disturbing, was their relative size compared to his newly shrunken physique. Rising to his full height, he didn’t even come up to the level of a single woman’s chest. Their breasts pushed out above his head, padded by leather or wool, as they looked down at him. He remembered jarringly just how much he’d shrunk the previous night.
“Oh that has to be him. Look how little he is!” said a pretty woman with honey coloured hair in a pony-tail. “Cordelia’s stupid spell had some use after all.”
Isabel smirked. “You’re right, Sasha. He is small.” She grabbed his cloak with a confident hand and yanked it, causing him to stumble closer to her. “All the easier to trap for dinner.”
The soldiers laughed as Bryan squirmed and tugged against her firm grip. His cloak stretched out, as he tried to get away. Isabel grabbed his neck. “Ooo, he’s so easy to handle. This is awesome,” she said, shoving him toward Sasha, who pushed him away from her back into the circle.
Isabel yanked on his cloak of stealth and it tore off Bryan’s shoulders. Several of the women stepped closer to pull his weapons and gear away, stripping him of his possessions. They even tugged at his clothes, ripping them and snapping the buckles and buttons until his various garments began to fall off. Isabel gave a final yank as Bryan squirmed in her grip, snapping the clothes from his upper body. Sasha pulled his belt from his waist and yanked down his pants. He suddenly stood in his underwear surrounded by towering female soldiers of the Queen’s army.
“You can’t do this,” he finally blurted out, his voice sounding gentler than he remembered. “I’m soldier in the true King’s army.” Bryan tried to run toward a gap between two of the soldiers, but they shoved him back into the middle of the circle with ease.
There was a pause, and then one-by-one, each woman burst into laughter. They all began to laugh at him as if what he’d said was the most hilarious joke. Isabel wiped a tear from her eye and waved her hand in front of her face, fanning her self. “Oh goddess, yes. That was wonderful. A soldier? You? Look at you, tiny boy. You’re not even up to my tits!” she crowed.
Jade giggled. “Aww…I think it’s a good imagination he has. It’s so cute. He thinks he’s a big soldier for a pretender king! Boys have such wild power fantasies.”
Sasha stepped closer to him, grabbing the waistband of his linen briefs. “It’s dangerous thinking. He needs to learn to accept reality,” she said. “Come on. We’ll show you to Cordelia, little man. Olga banned her from using sorcery until she returns to the University, as punishment for shrinking three horses. Seeing you will cheer Cordelia up.”
Tugging on the waist of his underwear, Sasha began to drag him through the undergrowth. Bryan squirmed and looked for a way to get away, but the young soldiers made sure to stay in an effective guard formation around Sasha as they moved. He was far too valuable a prize to lose now. They had been redeemed after the failure of the previous day. He knew he had limited time before he’d be taken to Olga, and the two witches - Jasmynth and Patricia. He tried to think, but it was only a minute or two before they entered a small neat encampment of army tents, picketed horses, and a smouldering fire pit.
“Cordelia,” Isabel called out. “Look what we found!”