Готовый перевод История Королевы Эльфов / The story of the Elf Queen: 36. Неприятная сделка для королевы эльфов

An unpleasant deal for the Elf Queen.
* * *

The evening bell tolled in and around Iyastar, heralding the end of the day's work and the beginning of rest. In the cloistered women's monastery, located in one of the sectors of the First Ring surrounding the First Temple, the novices streamed into the dining room for the evening meal. The tall, thin woman with gray hair and deep wrinkles on her face, who was in charge of serving the food, smiled warmly at the sight of the next pair of novices:

"Everlasting sunshine. Welcome back, girls."

The tall and sturdily built northerner smiled broadly back at her, white teeth flashing:

"Everlasting sunshine, Sister Maika! I've missed you too! And your cooking."

With a sly squint of her eyes, the older woman replied:

"I'm sure you will, darling. I'm all set, so you don't have to worry."

The copper-haired northerner's face brightened at the words, and she almost danced impatiently. The old woman disappeared into the depths of the kitchen and soon handed her a tray with a deep plate of large, juicy red meat. It was roasted over a slow fire and had a wonderful aroma. Rena hurriedly thanked the old woman and hurried to one of the free tables, drooling. Her half-elven companion also politely greeted her elderly sister and received her tray. Fresh vegetables dominated it, and there were only a few slices of white chicken meat. When she took a seat at the table next to her friend and partner, she was already devouring her portion of meat with a wolfish appetite. She was literally swallowing the pieces, barely chewing them. The half-elf said reproachfully, unable to bear the sight:

"Rena, how can you eat like that? It's like you've been starving for a month. We're not on a mission, we're not being chased, so eat in peace! Enjoy your food."

Swallowing another large piece of meat, the northerner replied with a satisfied face:

"I can't help it, Taya! Everlasting Sunshine, I've missed good food! Sister Maika and her helpers cook the meat perfectly! I could eat so much more!"

She began to eat the juicy red pieces again, quickly using her sharp knife and fork. The half-elf shook her head mentally as she watched. Rena's appetite was truly wolfish, which was not surprising. Tairel suspected that if it weren't for the need to observe minimal decorum, her friend would have eaten meat with her bare hands, tearing off pieces with her teeth, without a knife or fork. What are you going to do with her? The half-elf looked around the dining room sending a slice of chicken meat into her mouth.

Unlike the usual nunneries, this one, located in the heart of the capital, was very sparsely populated. A little more than three dozen novices were eating in the dining room. Most of them were still girls eating under the supervision of their senior mentors. Their food, by the way, was monotonous. It was quite tasty and hearty, but no personalized delights like Tai and Rena's. Such a privilege, as dishes to order, were available only to adult novices. There were very few of them in the dining hall, and they sat either in pairs or alone. The reason was simple. Girls and young women were not recruited to this cloister. They were SELECTED. As a rule, from a very young age. With one single purpose. To become Daughters of the Reverend Mother. The ones who would carry the wrath of the Sun's enemies into the Dark Lands. Wherever they hide and however well they hide, sooner or later, by the hands of the Daughters and Sons of the Venerable Mother the retribution of the Eternal Sun will come upon them.

Involuntarily remembering the mission that had just been completed, Tairelle smiled contentedly. Arstein the Raider had gotten what he deserved for his countless atrocities against the followers of the Eternal Sun. Getting to him had not been easy, retribution had been prepared and planned for years. The keys to the defense of his hometown on one of the Ice Islands were selected. Caches and lodges were being prepared. Paths of approach and departure were being laid out. Retribution was to come in a few years, nice and showy, along with the inner circle. But his last daring raid on the Northern Monastery was the last straw that overflowed the cup of patience of the higher hierarchs. Retribution had been hastened, and the Reverend Mother had sent her and Rena as reinforcements, though they had been preparing for another assignment for months. Now, however, it has been handed over to the other Daughters and Sons. Which was a bit of a shame, of course, but Aurora's orders were non-negotiable. The half-elf was brought out of her thoughts by the voice of her friend, who continued to eat large chunks of meat:

"You should eat more normal meat too, not those crumbs of chicken and greens. To build it up in all the right places."

The northerner's words were accompanied by a meaningful glance at her friend's breasts. A predatory and carnivorous stare. In response to which she heard a quiet snort. Even the novice's relatively spacious clothes could not hide the voluminous forms of the half-elf, being tightly stretched.

"Everything is fine in the proper places. And you know it,” Tairel finished with a meaningful waggle of her eyebrows.

The northerner squinted her yellow eyes and licked her lips defiantly. The rest of the meal was spent in seemingly meaningless conversations and meaningful glances. When the meal was over, the partners put away the trays of food, said goodbye to their sisters in faith, and went to their chambers. Each of the Daughters had her own room. But the Reverend Mother's subordinates, working in pairs, often shared a single room for two. As soon as the heavy and massive door closed behind them and the magical protection that separated the room from the rest of the cloister was activated, the northerner pulled the half-elf to her and gave her a demanding kiss on the lips. With one arm around her waist, and with the other she began to fondle her friend's large breasts through the fabric of her robes. Rena paid no attention to Tairel's protesting mooing and only increased the pressure. Without interrupting the kiss, she began to unbutton and unzip her partner's robes. She quickly stopped mooing in protest and began to do the same.

Not thirty seconds later, Rena was already kneading the half-elf's buttocks with one hand, pulling up the novice's robe, and with the other she was unceremoniously torturing her tits. Taya did not hinder this, freeing her lover from her clothing. At the same time, they moved slowly toward one of the beds. By the time the partners and lovers reached the edge of the nearest one, most of their clothes and shoes were already lying on the floor of the chambers. Also, Rena's appearance had changed noticeably. Lower down her back, the northerner had developed a powerful and long tail, with thick dark red fur in the color of her head hair. Rena's ears had also changed, becoming larger and wolf-like. When she finally pulled away from the half-elf's lips, the northerner licked her lips ravenously and contentedly:

"You are so yummy!"

Running her tongue over the heavily breathing Tairel's face from chin to temple, she buried her face in her chest and inhaled deeply, never ceasing to squeeze the half-elf demandingly.

"I love the smell of you! Especially when you get wet! I missed it so much!"

The heavy-breathing northerner threw Taya down on the bed and began pulling off the rest of her clothes and finally undressing herself. Her blushing friend and lover helped her in every possible way. After pulling off the half-elf's white lace lingerie, the northerner couldn't resist and pressed it to her face, inhaling her friend's scent with a muffled growl. As the last of the clothes went to the floor, a heavy-breathing Rena loomed over the half-elf. Her eyes were on fire, her ears pricked up, and her tail swished from side to side like a madman. Saliva dripped from her open mouth and tongue onto Tai's belly and chest. With a giggle, the half-elf made a feigned frightened face and squeaked in an almost childlike voice:

"Are you sure you won't eat me?"

Rumbling contentedly, the northerner once again ran her tongue from her stomach to her chin, and further down her face:

"The temptation, of course, is very great....."

With a sly squint of her eyes, the half-elf squeaked in the same childish squeaky voice:

"But you're a good girl, aren't you, Rena?"

For a brief moment, just a fraction of a second, the Nordic woman looming over her lover froze. Her pupils dilated, then narrowed to the width of needles, then returned to normal. With a shake of her head, Rena yapped puppy-like, wagged her tail, and began licking the half-elf's face and breasts with great enthusiasm. She smiled and murmured, stroking her head and wolf ears:

"Yeah, you're a good girl. A very good girl. And obedient. Sit down!"

When she heard the command, Rena immediately stopped licking Taya and sat down on the bed, looking at the half-elf with puppy eyes. Tairel leisurely sat down beside her and ran her palm over her friend's belly. The northerner's body was covered with many healed scars, but they did not spoil her wild beauty. Running her palm over her friend's chest, the half-elf squeezed it lightly, then stroked Rena's head, eliciting a contented rumble and an acceleration of tail wagging. Smiling with anticipation, Tairel tossed her tangled hair behind her back and commanded:

"Play!"

Rena yapped merrily again and jumped off the bed, running over to a box of personal belongings in the corner of the chamber. When she opened it, she bent down and searched through it. Her buttocks and wet pussy were on display for the half-elf to see. She swallowed involuntarily and licked her lips in anticipation. The wait wasn't long, and Rena returned to her rather quickly, carrying a leather collar with a long leash in her teeth, as well as a female savior made of dark wood treated with a special alchemy. Also with straps to fasten around the waist and hips. Smiling contentedly, the half-elf praised her friend:

"Good girl..."

A moment later, the northerner was on all fours on the bed, breathing hard and sticking out her tongue. She was wearing a strict collar around her neck, the strap of which was held by Tairelle, wrapped around her fist. The half-elf was wearing a female savior, on which she generously rubbed a special oil. Just as generously, she poured it into her lover's cunt, lubricating it inside and out, causing her to whimper and wag her tail in frustration. Finishing her preparations, the half-elf gently entered her friend, eliciting a satisfied rumble. Grabbing the leash tighter, Tairelle began to move her hips, holding Rena's waist with her other hand. Rena began to move her hips in response and wagged her tail, tickling her friend's breasts. It didn't bother Tairel, though. She picked up the pace and began to move her hips rhythmically, feeling the female savior's backside pressing into her own pussy as he penetrated Rena's cunt.

The excitement was building, and the half-elf pulled the leash a little tighter and sped up. Rena immediately breathed harder, gulping for air, and clutched the sheets and blanket. Leaning forward, Taya ran her palm down her body, from hip to breast. Beneath the smooth skin, the tense steel muscles of a skilled and trained warrior could be felt. The northerner's tits were noticeably smaller than most of the novices. But that was fine with Taya. Tightening the leash even more, she squeezed Rena's small and firm breasts, twisting a nipple. Her friend responded with a natural wolf-like howl and finished, arching her back. Her tail straightened into an arrow, her fur stood up, and her yellow eyes rolled. Combined with her tongue sticking out, it gave her face a stunningly seductive expression.

Tairel's lips tightened in frustration as she released the leash, and her friend immediately collapsed face down on the bed, trembling. She ran her palm over the northern girl's soaked and heated back and began to unhook the lady's savior soaked in oil and love juices. How quickly she finished this time, Taya barely had time to warm up. Though come to think of it, that wasn't surprising. It was about to be winter, and wolves were just about to be in their heat. As well as those humans with similar blood in their veins. It's a good thing Rena isn't a full-fledged beast folk because they can't control themselves at times like this. Well, almost. She'll have to use her tongue. After unbuckling the bed toy, Tairel set it aside and began to fold the pillows. Once she was comfortable on them, the half-elf spread her long and slender legs wide, exposing her smooth elven bosom. On which was tattooed a small sun. Stroking a foot still recovering from the finish line, Rena ordered:

"Lick!"

When she heard the command, the northerner jerked, got on all fours, looked around with muddy eyes, sniffed the air with her nose, wagged her tail, and turned back to her friend. But as soon as she nuzzled her face between her legs and ran her tongue over the half-elf's pussy, a quiet melody sounded in their chambers. Letting out a loud groan of annoyance and frustration, Tairel commanded her friend to stop. Standing up from the bed, she reached into her robe lying on the floor and pulled a small communication amulet from its folds. Despite its size, it was quite skillfully crafted physically and magically. It was very difficult to trace, which was a great help during missions. Clutching it in her hand, the half-elf said mentally:

//I'm listening.

For a moment, she froze, standing in the middle of her chambers completely naked. Her pupils dilated rapidly, then narrowed to the width of needles, then returned to normal.

* * *

The spacious and bright circular room was flooded with sunlight pouring directly from the ceiling, where there was a huge and detailed mosaic depicting a human silhouette against a sun disk. At a large table (also round) sat several humans and a couple of non-humans. They were all dressed in immaculate white robes embroidered with gold. Most of all the noble metal was on the clothes of a tall man of sturdy build with a military bearing. His short hair and well-groomed beard were long ago completely gray but he literally reeked of strength and power. The sunlight was burning naturally in his eyes, and a soft glow surrounded his head. Even someone who had never seen him in person in his life would quickly guess that he was the Priest-King Arnuil the First.

An enchanted volumetric map of the Bright Lands and the nearest borderlands was laid out before the senior hierarchs of the Theocracy gathered around the table. Border monasteries and a couple of small towns shone on it with small lights. Villages and worker settlements glowed with a multitude of sparks. And in the center of the map, the capital city of Iyastar shone brightly like a tiny sun. The halfling with a completely bald head, sitting on a pair of cushions to the left of the Priest-King, pointed to the northern section of the Bright Lands and continued his report:

"...so the rebuilding of the Northern Border Monastery and its fortifications would be completed by early summer. The Forest's help was very welcome, especially the supply of select construction wood. Until the rebuilding is completed, the Third and Fourth Brothers will have to stay at the northern frontier to reinforce the Fifth War Brothers. Otherwise, we cannot guarantee the security of our borders."

Bowing his head slightly, the Priest-King spoke in a powerful and sonorous voice, smiling faintly:

"The Forest was so unwilling for us to help the Morgrave people who had suffered from the Island King's raid that it deigned to help us recover from the Arstein Raiders' raid."

Sitting at Arnuil's right hand, a mighty green-skinned orc with long, pitch-black hair gathered into a powerful ponytail muttered in a deafening bass:

"I still believe we should not have accepted the help of the elves. A mission to Morgrave would have done us far more good. It is easiest for the dispossessed to see the light of the Eternal Sun."

Sitting directly across from the Priest-King, an elderly priestess with black-tanned skin cast a displeased look at the green-skinned giant:

"And just as many problems. We have enough troubles with our nearest neighbors, and we don't need to quarrel with the elves now! And the Forest's help was quite generous and not at all unreasonable."

Arnuil held his palm up to nip in the bud an argument that had been going on for weeks and was about to break out again.

"So be it. Let the Third and Fourth Squads remain on the northern frontiers to assist the Fifth. We must not let the lackeys of the Everbloodthirsty break through our defenses and set foot in the Bright Lands again. What of our brothers and sisters taken into captivity?"

The bald halfling took one of the scrolls lying before him and, coughing, reported:

"A loyal merchant from the Confederacy of Free Cities has managed to buy back some of the prisoners. His ships with them are just heading up the Lendra."

"Was it Dormian?"

"He is. And he has already told us that he does not demand any money for saving our brothers and sisters. Twice."

"Of course."

Sighing tiredly, Arnuil was silent for a few seconds, then spoke:

"In gratitude for saving our brothers and sisters this time, he will be allowed to trade in Iyastar without paying duties."

At these words, the face of the halfling, who was the chief treasurer of the Theocracy, twisted as if with a toothache. But he answered in a calm voice:

"It will be done."

"What about the rest of the kidnapped ..."

The Priest-King did not have time to finish, for there was a brief knock on the door of the room where the meeting of the highest hierarchs of the Theocracy was being held. Turning toward them, Arnuil gazed for a second at the thickly ornamented solar-themed doors. Then he made a brief gesture with his hand, and a wave of sunlight traveled through the doors. A moment later, they opened without a creak, and four people entered the meeting room for the higher hierarchs. The Reverend Mother, accompanied by her assistant, and the Archilictor, accompanied by his assistant. The heads of the two special services of the Theocracy bowed politely to those gathered, their assistants performing full bows. Straightening up, Aurora pronounced:

"Eternal Sunshine, brothers and sisters. Please forgive us for this sudden intrusion, but we have an urgent matter that requires the personal and private attention of Arnuil."

The King-Priest understood Reverend Mother correctly and replied:

"We will continue our discussion tomorrow, right after morning prayer, brothers and sisters. Eternal Sunshine."

"Eternal Sunshine!"

As those gathered began to rise from their seats, Archilctor gestured for the mighty orc to stop:

"You, Brother Dragn, I will ask you to stay."

The commander of the Order of Bright Paladins furrowed his bushy eyebrows for a moment, then nodded briefly and settled back into his seat. When the room was empty, the Priest-King closed the doors again with a brief gesture and activated the defenses. As soon as it cut the room off from the rest of the world, he gave a short order:

"Report..."

Arnuil and Dragn gloomed visibly as they listened to the words of the Theocracy's intelligence chiefs. The Priest-King frowned his eyebrows and stared at the Archilictor who had finished his report:

"How did she find out about it? From one of the Bright Brothers guarding her?"

At these words, the mighty orc visibly tensed, but the elderly head of the Inquisitorium gestured with a dry hand to calm him down:

"That's out of the question. We've already questioned all the Bright Brothers who have guarded her since the Senior Emissary of Arendal disappeared. None of them have violated the prohibition against talking to the possessed. Nor could she eavesdrop on their conversations amongst themselves. To avoid listening to her blasphemies and taunts, the Bright Brothers now stood guard outside her prison."

"Then how did she know about it?" The Priest King frowned.

Suddenly, a hunch dawned on his face:

"She had something to do with Arendal's disappearance?! Did she do it?! She still has servants in Iyastar?!"

Aurora now gestured for Arnuil to stop:

"We doubt the possessed woman had anything to do with the abduction of the Senior Emissary of the Forest. If not, she would have given us an ultimatum on day one. After analyzing her words and what we know, Brother Meyer and I have concluded that another version is more likely. The possessed woman has been lurking in the shadows for quite some time, working her atrocities in Iyastar. And as we know, she sniffed out everything she could. It's inherent like demon spawn. She may have gotten wind of the plot against Arendal, but she didn't do anything about it. Or maybe she just didn't have time. But the possessed one still had ears in Iyastar or its outskirts. And from them, she learned that the Senior Emissary's detractors had made their move."

"But how could she know this while under the custody and constant light of the Eternal Sun!"

Frowning, the Archilictor snickered with annoyance:

"The bond of souls is one of the strongest in the world. Looks like we missed one of the corrupted ones."

"How is that possible? Didn't you run background checks on everyone who had contact with her?"

Sighing heavily, the elderly head of the Inquisitorium explained:

"We've checked everyone we know for sure who had close contact with a possessed person. But there's no guarantee we know about all of them. It's physically impossible to check everyone, the creature's been hiding under the guise of a simple townie for too long. As for communication methods... Demonic spawns have many tricks. Especially ones as old and experienced as this thing. I'd say the most likely one in this case is a Soul Flip."

Seeing the incomprehension in Dragn's eyes, the Archilictor explained:

"It is a technique where the creature places one of its already tainted and controlled souls into the victim's body. The victim's soul it takes for itself. This is a very difficult and despicable trick, which is capable of only the strongest of demonic spawn. But it allows you to partially control and control the body of the victim, even despite most of the obstacles. It would be more accurate to say that only the strongest demons are able to pull off the "Soul Flip " so that the replacement is not noticeable."

"That's not the only possible option," the Reverend Mother raised her voice.

"Given the details of its appearance in the city, I wouldn't rule out the possibility that someone might have made a contract with the creature voluntarily. In that case, the bond between them would also be very strong, and even less invisible, since the ties that bound them were voluntary."

Hearing this, the leader of the Bright Paladins raised his bushy eyebrows:

"Could there really be a madman in Iyastar who would agree to make a contract with a demon spawn? These creatures recognize only one payment: a soul."

The Reverend Mother and the Archilictor grimaced at the same time, and replied almost with glee:

"There's already one brainless idiot!"

Glancing over to Aurora, Meyer continued his report:

"We can't rule that out completely either. Contracting with such a creature can indeed grant such a bond."

"I see... And what does she want?" The Priest King asked.

"Freedom, of course. More specifically, the removal of all seals and the guarantee of a safe return to her native Inferno. With all her remaining souls intact, of course."

"Expectedly... Your suggestions?"

Throwing a glance at the Archilictor, Aurora uttered:

"For all my disgust with the creature, I am inclined to consider her offer. I am very unhappy with the disappearance of the Senior Emissary Arendal. Whoever pulled this off is a threat to the Eternal Sun. And I don't like the fact that we still know nothing about them. But the possessed woman in our dungeons knows something."

"Speaking of which. You still haven't been able to find any trace of the Senior Emissary?"

Archilictor shook her head, grimacing in annoyance again:

"None. We easily traced the route of the elf and his assistant from their office to one of the alleys between the beams. But beyond that, their trail drops off. No trace. No leads. We even enlisted the Skaven in the search, but that was fruitless. No one's heard anything, seen anything, or knows anything."

"How is that even possible, Meyer?! Kidnap a Senior Emissary right in Iyastar, in the light of the Lesser Sun, without anyone seeing it?"

"The brighter the light, the darker the shadows it casts, Arnuil, don't you know? In fact, the alleys between the beams are in the shadows, and the direct light of the Lesser Sun is not there. Given the right opportunity, a kidnapping could be pulled off in an alley like that. A few good camouflage amulets will suffice. Under their cover, you can change your appearance, hang a small portal to another place, and later clean the traces of magic with alchemical negators... This is just one of the options. There's more."

"I got it, Meyer, thank you. What was he doing there in the first place?"

The Archilictor shook her head again:

"No one knows that either. I had a direct conversation with the Supreme Emissary of the Forest, mediated by the servants of the Oath Keeper. The elves have no idea where he's going or why."

"Hmmm... I see. What do you think about that, Dragn?"

The commander of the Lightbringer Paladins furrowed his bushy eyebrows and muttered:

"My opinion is categorical. No deals with demon spawn. I was against her capture, and I am against any deal with her. My word is final."

"Got it. Meyer?"

The elderly Archilictor sighed tiredly and spoke slowly:

"I'm the last person who would agree to make any kind of deal with a possessed woman. But given the circumstances... I would suggest that we consider, and I emphasize, only consider making such a deal for now. We should start by trying to find out exactly what this thing knows. Because I agree with Sister Aurora. I don't like the disappearance of the Senior Emissary either."

There was silence in the room. Arnuil leaned back in his chair and stood still, the glow around his head increasing. Everyone at the table looked at each other understandingly. After a moment, the Priest-King opened his eyes, the fire in them burning a little brighter now. When he spoke, his voice sounded slightly different:

"Talk to the possessed woman. If she really knows something important about those who plot evil against the Eternal Sun here in Bright City, she will be granted her freedom."

* * *

The relatively small, but very well protected by three different magical weaves, room was tense and nervous. But there was no shouting, swearing, or other inappropriate behavior. The people at the table behaved with restraint and decorum. But not because they didn't want to yell at each other right now or use hand-to-hand violence. It was because such a thing could end very badly for each of them. Still, those gathered at this table were not ordinary commoners. So they had to speak politely and, most importantly, quietly.

The latter was the direct demand of Master sitting at the head of the table. He was in a very bad mood. Everything had been going wrong lately. One problem after another. And right now, when they were so close to their goal. How could he stay calm? In his hands, he held a complete copy of the Inquisitorium's report on the work done to track down and capture the demoness. To the Archilictor's subordinates' credit, they had been meticulous and thorough. That once again proved the correctness of the decision to introduce a few dolls in the department of old man Meyer.

On the right and left hands of Master sat his guests, who had been caught in the middle of discussing the future negotiations with the elves. Curator was pale and visibly nervous, fearing to find himself once again guilty. Emissary, who, as it is not difficult to guess by his nickname, was responsible for the diplomatic and negotiating part of their organization, was also far from calm. But there was far less fear in him than anger and extreme irritation. Trying not to raise his voice, he asked the others at the table as politely as possible:

"Colleagues, may I ask how that demon whore could have known about us? If my memory serves me correctly, all of you, especially those of you who work in Iyastar, claimed to be very conspiratorial. So how is it that some infernal slut sitting in the dungeons of the Inquisitorium, the Inquisitorium, I call your attention, the Inquisitorium, could find out about Arendal's fate? Who leaked it?"

Of course, no one at the table confessed. But somehow it happened that everyone looked at the one who was responsible for the work in the capital of the Theocracy. Under the gazes of the crowd, he stated categorically:

"I can vouch for my subordinates! We carefully followed all the instructions of both the honorable Master and the Silent Master. All, absolutely all contacts with the treated long-eared were strictly according to the regulations and by prior agreement."

"Of course, of course. And the demon whore just had a sudden epiphany. The gift of prophecy burst from between the horns and the cunt."

"I have no idea how she could have known about your long-eared colleague, Emissary, but again, I vouch for my people."

"Then you don't know your people very well, Preacher. I'm sure it'll turn out that one of them decided to have some secret fun with the processed sharp ears, and this infernal slut caught them doing it...."

Master didn't listen to the bickering of his associates at the table. There were two sheets of paper in front of him. On one, names and dates were written in calligraphic handwriting. A list of who, where, and when the Inquisitorium agents had contacted the demoness. On another sheet of paper, not in calligraphy, but in very neat handwriting, names and dates were also written. Who, where, and when had contact with Arendal or his assistants. Not business meetings, but those that were held for more pleasant pastimes, were singled out separately. The consciousness, put into a trance and accelerated by special techniques, compared names and dates with great speed. Until finally...

"I found it."

Master's single word silenced everyone at the table and turned to look at him. The tension level in the room rose sharply. Putting both lists on the table, Master pointed his finger at two adjacent dates on both lists. The time difference between them was only twenty-four hours. And one name on those dates matched.

"That's where the leak most likely occurred."

"May I... Yeah, I knew it! Your assistant's a screwup, after all, Preacher!"

Seeing the name Master indicated, he promptly turned pale:

"It's... are you sure... No, it's impossible, he couldn't! He's completely loyal and trustworthy! And we've carried out all the necessary procedures you prescribed, no trace was left..."

"Calm down, Preacher, neither you nor your servant is to blame," Master stopped the flow of excuses, raising his hand and demanding silence from everyone.

Under questioning and strained looks, he tiredly explained in a calm but tired voice:

"None of us, I emphasize, none of us, had imagined that we might encounter such an experienced and powerful demoness. Especially in Iyastar. Against such a maturing creature, the procedures we had developed to cover up traces of fun with the treated elves were completely inadequate. Someone like her can tell from one good blowjob which girls you've fucked where, when, and how lately. Or boys. Especially if it's a firstborn. Demonesses can't confuse their taste with anyone else's. Especially if he was fucked just the day before."

Under the stares of those gathered around the table, Preacher felt uncomfortable and muttered:

"Everyone has different tastes in bed...."

"Who and how you and your servants fuck is your own business," Emissary interrupted him, "But why the fuck did your assistant go there in the first place?!"

"He used to go there all the time, like half the wealthy men in the Foreigner neighborhood! It's the best..."

Emissary did not listen to his colleague's further excuses. Waving his hand and turning to Master, he asked:

"What are we gonna do?"

"Isn't it obvious? We're gonna have to make a deal with the demoness."

"What?! Are you serious, Master?!"

"I don't see any other options. We need to shut her up, or our whole operation is jeopardized. So we need to figure out what we can offer this thing. Or who we can offer it."

"Can't you... well, just kill her?"

"Kill? I can. Just? No. Eliminating her will inevitably lead to the full disclosure of our dollies in the Inquisitorium. And probably more than just them. Because I'll never get to her otherwise. Not to mention she's not easy to kill on her own. So think about what we're going to use to shut her up."

Realizing what he had just said, Master hastily added:

"Dicks is not an option."

A quiet laughter sounded around the table. One of those sitting on the opposite side of the table from Master grinned:

"It's a challenge. Not easy to negotiate with these creatures."

Emissary sitting next to Master shook his head and objected:

"You can't negotiate with fanatics. Demons, on the other hand, are very easy to deal with. The problem is to do it in such a way that they don't fuck you. In both meanings."

"You do that, Emissary,” Master concluded, ”I'll start organizing the conversation with her."

"Will you have time to do that before negotiating with the Ears?"

"Quite. Speaking of elves. Are you all set?"

Three of the people at the table immediately turned visibly gloomy. One of them grumbled in a disgruntled voice:

"We're all set. But I'd like to point out that I actually paid a lot of money for my Elka. And then I invested just as much in her. So did the others."

His colleagues nodded in agreement. It was only by a great effort of will Master refrained from rolling his eyes. Why did everyone fall for elven women so much? There are plenty of other normal women with whom it's much less trouble. Although... The image of the Queen of the Forest, with whom the second round of negotiations was soon to take place, appeared in Master's mind for a moment. All right, the matter is dropped. Out loud, of course, Master said something else:

"I understand your frustration at the loss of such precious toys. But now, for our common cause, which is far more important than any, even the most marvelous firstborn, we must rid ourselves of the threat of the Forest. At least their Shadows."

Master's words were of little consolation to the owners of the elves and elven women kidnapped by Vinatir:

"Of course, we're well aware of that. But we expect to be compensated adequately. Preferably comparable to our loss."

"Of course. Right now, I'm going to ask you to give me some workspace. We have some very difficult negotiations to organize..."

* * *

It was quite bright in the stone sack with the only door thanks to the special ceiling mosaic. The Theocracy didn't like darkness very much. Therefore, there were no dungeons in the literal sense of the word. Even the strictest cells were always brightly lit. In this particular cell, there was one single prisoner. A thin and wiry man in only underpants and a sleeveless vest was lying on a straw bale. His body was covered with numerous scars, and his left hand was missing a little finger. His dark, long hair and beard were long and tangled in places. But he looked surprisingly tidy compared to other prisoners in the dungeons of the Caliphate or the Kingdom of the Isles, not to mention the cities of the Confederacy. It was evident that he was washed regularly and his clothes laundered. The straw in the tightly stuffed bale was fresh, too. And the cell itself was quite clean.

The reason for such an amazing order by the standards of other states was simple and trivial. The followers of the Sun, faithful to the precepts of their deity, could not tolerate dirt and filth in any form and in any place. Even in prisons. Especially in the capital's Inquisitorium prison, where cleanliness and order were maintained most strictly. This suited the scarred prisoner, who was lying on a mattress. But what annoyed him was the light from the ceiling, which never went out. But there was nothing he could do about it. He had to find a way to close his eyes for the night.

The silence of the solitary cell was broken by the approaching footsteps of the warders. With a start, the prisoner sat down on his bunk and waited. A few seconds later, the small feeder window in the center of the door opened and the laconic voice of the senior warder sounded:

"Dinner."

Rising to his feet, the prisoner, limping on his left leg, went to the door. Standing so that the warders standing outside could see him, he bowed his head, folded his hands in a gesture of prayer, and a hoarse but clear voice said:

"I thank the Eternal Sun for its generosity and mercy to me, unworthy. Thank you for the opportunity to atone for my sins and sorrow. May it shine over the whole earth, so that the night may disappear forever."

Satisfied with this ritual penance, the warders placed food on the serving window. Taking a flat wooden plate of steaming porridge and a wooden spoon, the prisoner returned to his bunk and began to eat slowly. The porridge was lean, but hearty, to the credit of the sun-lovers. Sighing longingly, the prisoner scooped up a full spoonful. He had gone on the very last raid, either for rich booty or to die in battle, as befitted a true son of the Ice Islands. And in the end, he got neither. Wounded in battle, he was taken prisoner by those pampered sun-lovers. They didn't kill him, on the contrary, even treated him, and then led him along with other captives to their villages and towns. Where they were spat upon and cursed and threatened. Until they were brought to Iyastar.

Here, in the square in front of the main temple of the sun-lovers, they were publicly condemned, and the sins of each of the captives were read out. And from the Sun-lovers' point of view, there were plenty of sins for each of them. The only punishment for such a thing could only be. Death. Most of his brothers met it with dignity, showering their captors with insults and taunts to the last. Even as the fires burned beneath them. Some were cowardly, begging for mercy and willing to redeem themselves in any way they could. There were a few. Including him. But he, as one of the junior commanders of Arstein the Raiders himself, was not going to be given a chance at redemption. There was too much blood on his hands. So he bought his life by telling them where he had stashed some of the loot from the last raid. Including a few relics stolen from the ruined monastery.

In return, the sun-lovers replaced the bonfire with eternal imprisonment. Here, in this cell, he is doomed to spend the rest of his days until he dies of old age. It is hard to imagine a more shameful death for a true son of the Ice Islands. Though can he really be called one now? A traitor, a coward, a lowlife worse than the last Thrall, who doesn't even dare to kill himself. How did he get to this point...

The prisoner's heavy thoughts gradually became more and more confused. Without noticing it, he continued to eat his porridge. But at some point, the raider stopped before he reached his mouth. Just for a second. Then he put it very carefully on the plate with the rest of the porridge. He put the plate aside. He lay down on the mattress with his belly on it and his face against it, as if he had fallen asleep. Only at close quarters could it be seen that his lips were moving soundlessly.

At the same moment, in a different cell, much more secure and well-protected, in a cage of enchanted steel, the possessed woman was lying on the floor in her favorite pose. With her hands behind her head, one leg bent at the knee and the other upright, so that her outstretched foot shaded her eyes from the sun streaming from the ceiling. She could lie like that for hours, which was unthinkable for an ordinary person, but not for a possessed person. Suddenly, she frowned, and her long thin tail twitched faintly. The possessed lay still for a few moments, then the corners of her lips stretched slightly. And a mental dialog began in her mind.

//“Wow. I didn't expect you to talk to me so quickly. I thought I'd have to stall for at least two more days, making a fool of myself in front of Grandpa Meyer.”

//“The Inquisitorium is a very secure place, but not for us.”

//“Oh, I don't doubt it. If you can afford to use an entire active Senior Emissary of the Forest as a bed toy. To pull something like that is my respect. And you looked like such decent people, you wouldn't think it

//What do you want?

//“Straight to the point? I approve! My wish list is extensive, and it is unlikely that even you can satisfy it completely. First, of course, I'd like to get rid of Grandpa Meyer's excessive hospitality.”

//“It's...possible.”

//“Well, of course, it's possible. Otherwise, you wouldn't be talking to me now, my dears. So the proper question would be, what can you offer me that I might keep your little secret?”

//“Quite a lot.”

//“More specifically?”

//“Depends, what else do you want besides freedom? Or whom do you want?”

||“Oh, now we're really getting down to business...”

* * *

The magical laboratory in the Secret Guard building hadn't changed at all since the previous conversation. But if one looked at it with a magic vision, the picture was completely different. There were even more protective weaves and barriers than before. Dressed in an impeccable closed dark green dress, Sivila sat casually on a high carved chair with armrests, putting her leg over her leg. The queen was wearing quite a lot of jewelry which was an expensive and complex set of protective amulets, not her own, but from the Secret Guard's special vault. The gems embedded in them glowed faintly, indicating a passive mode of operation.

Across from the queen, on the same chair, a naked Tiantrel sat motionless. The patterns that adorned her body glowed faintly, with occasional ripples of light, but otherwise, the elf was completely still. On the side between her and the queen, her miniature figure stood on a separate stand, frozen in an obscenely lewd pose. At exactly the appointed time, literally, one second to the next, the motionless Tiantrel shuddered, and a bright wave of light ran through her "structure". She blinked a few times, shrugged as if she had just woken up, and looked around. She did so defiantly slowly. The patterns on her body now glowed brightly and were clearly visible down to the smallest line. Turning to the motionless Sivila, the pixie put her leg over her leg, copying the queen's pose, and bowed her head subtly:

"Your Majesty."

Sivila responded with an equally short bow:

"Master."

"So, have you discussed my proposal?"

"In full."

"And what's your verdict?"

"We agree to accept it. Therefore, I suggest we discuss the details."

"I agree. But let me just ask your honorable brethren to..."

At these words, Tiantrel turned toward the wall of the lab and made a meaningful face.

"...do not attempt to violate my much-appreciated anonymity. I'm only warning you once."

"Absolutely not, Honorable Master."

"Perfect. Now, here are my terms. I'm willing to release half of your brethren kidnapped by Vinatir right now. They are fully healthy physically, though they have undergone some cosmetic changes. Nothing that your magic masters couldn't fix if they wanted to. Mentally, they are also completely healthy. Their personalities have not been destroyed by me but are only slightly adjusted. Again, nothing your masters of magic could not fix. Moreover, I am even ready to provide you with a specific list of all the changes. But, I'll tell you right away, all the memories during their captivity have been carefully removed by me. The other half I am ready to return in installments over about six months. I will return Arendal and Tiantrel to you last."

After pausing, Master continued:

"You, for your part, will withdraw all Secret Guard agents from the Bright Lands and guarantee that no new ones will be sent there for the next year. And of course, you guarantee that you will in no way reveal information about me, or anyone associated with me, to the Sun-worshippers. At least not until after the deadline. After that, we part ways without mutual resentment or grievance. I will no longer disturb the Forest, you will not disturb my peace. Your word?"

After being silent for a few seconds, the queen spoke slowly, choosing her words carefully:

"Those are perfectly acceptable terms, Master. I am prepared to guarantee you that as soon as we receive the first prisoners, all Shadows will be immediately recalled from the Bright Lands, and no Shadow will set foot in the Bright Lands for the next year. But I can't recall all of the Secret Guard agents from the Bright Lands if I wanted to. That would jeopardize the Forest, and the Forest is more important than the lives of individual Firstborns. We can't do that. With everything else, we agree."

A barely perceptible smile touched Tiantrel's lips:

"I understand, I don't like to interrupt the performances of my dollys, especially if it has been long and carefully directed. In that case, my condition is half."

Once again silent for a few seconds, Sivila nodded slowly:

"This condition is acceptable."

"Wonderful. In that case, you can pick up the first of your subjects right here. Signal beacon activated."

With a graceful gesture of her hand, Tiantrel lit an easily recognizable image of the Forest borderland in the air. Silence reigned in the laboratory. A minute passed like that. Then a second. A third. Then the silence was broken by the voice of Third, coming from just inside the laboratory:

"The task forces confirmed the discovery of the four previously abducted. All are in stable condition. The evacuation was successful. No problems."

The smile on Tiantrel's face grew noticeably wider:

"See, it's just like I told you. Now, I'm going to ask you to fulfill your end of the bargain."

With a barely perceptible nod, Sivila pulled a small, snow-white stone orb from the folds of her dress. Clutching it in her palm, the queen carefully repeated the words of her promise to recall the Shadows and half of the Secret Guard agents. Clearly and to the letter. When she finished, the orb flashed with blinding white light for a moment, and Sivila grimaced for a moment. Then, with a graceful motion, the queen tossed the orb toward Tiantrel. She caught it deftly and clenched it in her fist, causing it to burst into flames again. As soon as it did, Master who controlled the elf's body smiled and returned the orb to the queen with a graceful throw:

"What a handy invention these Small Oath Keeper's Certifiers are. I've never used them myself, alas. My anonymity is more precious to me, and I wouldn't even sacrifice it to Damocar. Well, I kept my end of the bargain, you kept yours. I sincerely hope for similar honesty in the future and in honoring our Status Quo treaty. For our mutual benefit."

"I hope so too. When will you contact us next time?"

"Hmmm... I suggest exactly two months from now if that's okay with you?"

"More than that. And I also sincerely hope you will honor our Status Quo treaty."

"Of course. I have told you before, Your Majesty, that I have nothing against you personally, or against the Forest as a whole. But we all have to do what we have to do sometimes, not what we want to do. Who better to understand that than you? See you later, Your Majesty. The honorable Mirael. Third."

Tiantrel said the last words, looking at the wall of the laboratory. Then he turned to the queen and winked at her with sudden cheerfulness. The tip of Sivila's long ear twitched as she sat motionless in her chair. Tiantrel leaned back in her chair, her “structure” fading noticeably. Silence hung in the laboratory room. With a completely stony expression on her face, Sivila slowly muttered, minting each word:

"Why the hell did I just get my clit pinched?"

From behind the wall came the equally strained voice of the Elder Enchantress:

"You're not the only one."

* * *

Author's Note:

So, 18 pages. Of which Sivila's only got, God willing, two. They're stealing screen time from the poor queen again :(

Well, I'll try to fix that in the next chapter. Honestly!

And yes, but this chapter with the lemons is okay. At least it is. Because, come to think of it, my pwp had chapters with no fruits at all.

Traditional thanks to those who point out errors, leave comments, ask questions, which is also very nice, and those who click on the button waiting for the continuation.

Good luck and have a good weekend, everyone.

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Переведено на Нотабеноиде
http://notabenoid.org/book/86674/575403

Переводчики: Camrad_RIP