#FridayFlash: The UCF Stories #21: An Audience With Lady Mandrake

The gateway to Lady Mandrake's citadel.

In which Botchett and Aveena, in search of an amulet, venture deeper into the lair of Lady Mandrake...

As Botchett and Aveena made their way to the citadel it began to rain, a cold, hard rain that fell in sheets, swirled by the biting wind. They were almost upon the entrance when Aveena spotted a slight, unkempt figure lounging against the wall of the porch, trying to keep out of the weather. Layers of ragged, filthy clothing swathed the figure, giving it the appearance of a large hamster.

Sensing their approach, the figure snapped upright as Botchett stepped into the porch. Aveena caught sight of a much thinner man than she had at first thought, shoulder length greasy hair framing a narrow, weasely face. Twinkling brown eyes shone out above a narrow, pointed nose which, in turn, gave way to a set of protruding, yellow teeth as the face smiled in recognition.

'Pilgrim? What brings you here?'

'For a start that's Master Pilgrim to you, bonny lad, and it's none of your business why I'm here.' Botchett moved towards the door, the figure sidling round to put himself between Botchett and the entrance.

'Shift,' barked Botchett.

'I can't,' whined the man. 'I have my orders. Lady Mandrake said...'

'Listen, bonny lad, I am going in there to speak to your mistress whether I gave to go through you first or not.'

'But...but...I'll have to announce you...'

'Which will mean leaving your post, won't it? And we both know how the Lady feels about people leaving their post, don't we? Eh?' Botchett winked at Aveena.

The man was still spluttering as Botchett and Aveena pushed past him into the citadel.

'Thank you, Rat,' Botchett called back over his shoulder then, turning to Aveena, 'That bugger's well named. I wouldn't trust him as far as I could spit, like.'

Aveena was about to reply when the combined smells of overcooked vegetables, unwashed humanity and smoke from braziers fuelled with rubbish assaulted her nose and throat and she gagged, coughed, tears leaking down her cheeks. Botchett seemed unaffected by the stench.

Botchett glanced around the huge chamber they found themselves in. Moonlight filtered in through many windows set into a high, vaulted ceiling. Moonlight combined with flickering light from the braziers gave just enough light to reveal a community of ragged figures standing in the shadows around the perimeter of the room, the murmur of countless conversations slowly stilling as Botchett and Aveena made their way towards the dais at the far end of the room.

Lady Mandrake reclined on her throne as Botchett and Aveena approached. Dressed entirely in black leather, her shock of shoulder length blonde hair tipped with red seemed to shine out of the darkness of her ensemble, which was topped off by an old fashioned black top hat. Aveena shuddered as she realised the aura coming from the clothing was of human skin, not leather. Botchett seemed either unaware or he chose to ignore the fact.

Lady Mandrake glanced slowly up from the crystal goblet, the contents of which she had been contemplating.

'Master Pilgrim. What a pleasant surprise. It's been far too long.' Her honeyed tones made Aveena feel particularly uncomfortable. 'To what to we owe the pleasure of your company in our humble abode?' She punctuated the last sentence with an expansive gesture.

'My Lady,' Botchett bent his knee to her, Lady Mandrake laying a hand upon his head. Aveena could see from his aura that it took all of Botchett's self control to keep from cringing at her touch. 'We are in need of your unique expertise, like.'

'Oh,' Lady Mandrake's eyebrow rose into her hairline, 'How so?'

'I...we have need of an Amulet of Resurrection...'

'Vincent,' Lady Mandrake interrupted absently, 'Refreshments for our guests.'

The tall, thin faced man in the black suit standing just behind the throne nodded imperceptibly before disappearing into the shadows, returning shortly with a tray of crystal goblets and a matching jug of deep red liquid. He filled a glass for each of them, refilling Lady Mandrake's goblet as she held it out for him.

Lady Mandrake drank deeply, 'Ah, that's better. Now, what was that you were saying about an amulet, Master Pilgrim?'

Botchett lowered his voice and a whispered discussion took place to which Aveena was not privy. She could however, get a sense of the toing and froing of the negotiations from the periodic flares in Botchett's and Lady Mandrake's auras. By the time Botchett called her forward, Aveena had a sense the negotiations had concluded with each on an equal footing, though perhaps slightly in Lady Mandrake's favour, but only just.

'Allow me to present Miss Aveena Murphy,' Botchett said as Lady Mandrake held out her hand to Aveena. Aveena took the proffered hand and in an instant understood more about Lady Mandrake than she could ever have wished. She attempted to pull away, but Lady Mandrake held her fast, Aveena sensed her gazing deep into her eyes.

'Yes, Master Pilgrim,' purred Lady Mandrake, 'I think perhaps we can do business.' She turned her attention again to Aveena. 'There is much power within you, young one,' she said matter of factly.

Aveena finally managed to wriggle her hand free and turned to Botchett, her face a barely concealed mask of anger. She was still fighting to control herself when Lady Mandrake spoke again.

'You will of course stay and dine with us. I will have Vincent draw up the contract while we eat.' Lady Mandrake rose languidly to her feet and strolled towards a large mahogany table, loaded with dishes of fine foods.

As they followed at a distance, Aveena hissed at Botchett, 'Contract?'

'Well, you didn't expect her to give us the amulet for nothing, did you, bonny lass?'

___________________________

This week also marks the release of the fourth episode in The Great Chocolate Conspiracy multi-part story. You can find episode 4 over at Crone's Cauldron Publications. Don't forget to follow the #GtChocCo hashtag on Twitter for more updates on this project. For more information, and to read from the beginning, please go here.

#FridayFlash: The UCF Stories #21: An Audience With Lady Mandrake

#FridayFlash: The UCF Stories #20: Lady Mandrake

The Asian youth crouched, terrified, at the base of the dais. Shirtless and grubby, his upper torso bore the signs of a recent beating. Wide-eyed, he stared up at the woman on the throne above him, flickering light from oil drum braziers making her eyes periodically sparkle with an unsettling intensity.

'Asif,' she commanded, 'the court has found you guilty of pilfering, and everyone here has heard the confession you gave after questioning. Do you have anything to say before sentence is passed?'

Wiping the sweat from his eyes, Asif stammered something about being sorry and was begging for a second chance when the woman cut him off.

'You know the penalty for pilfering. We rely on each other here. There are no second chances.'

Asif began to cry, great wracking sobs so that he almost did not hear when his name was called.

'Asif.'

The youth looked up, shivering.

'There can be no leniency in cases of pilfering, however...'

Asif looked suddenly expectant, praying that perhaps a lifeline was about to be thrown in his direction.

'You have been a valuable member of our community, and we are not without compassion. The sentence of this court is banishment.'

Asif sighed with relief as a murmur ran through the assembled crowd. The woman held up her hands and the murmuring ceased instantly.

'The sentence of this court is banishment. You will be taken from this place and expelled from our community. There will be a hunt.'

Asif screamed as the guards seized him under the arms and began dragging him towards the door, the assembled crowd cheering as he passed by.

The woman glanced left to where a tall, thin-faced man stood cradling an ornate antique tortoiseshell box. 'Vincent, the box if you please.'

The man stepped forward, bowed and held out the box.

Asif's screams were quieter as she opened the box, the guards having dragged him the full length of the former shipbuilding yard's cathedral vaulted drawing office. Taking a moment to consider her choice, the woman carefully withdrew two amulets from the box, each a large quartz stone wrapped around with silver wires. Within each the demon could clearly be seen snarling and scrabbling to escape, their claws scratching ineffectually at the inside of their prisons.

The crowd shuffled back to the margins of the room as the woman held both amulets above her head. She paused for a moment.

'Release the prisoner.'

As the guards relaxed their grip, Asif sprang to his feet and sprinted, limping, out of the double doors into the night.

Laying the amulets gently at her feet, the woman closed her eyes, threw her head back and began a murmured incantation. The stones seemed to grow, then fall back upon themselves, dissolving to leave two snarling creatures at her feet. Seemingly part dog, part something else characterised by glowing red eyes, a mouthful of fangs and leathery wings, the demons growled and scratched at the floor, their mistress's bond holding them back.

Reaching the climax of the incantation, the woman brought her hands suddenly together, the sound like a rifle shot in the silence, and the demons surged forward, their claws throwing up chips from the sandstone floor as they accelerated. Swooping down the length of the room, each executed a sharp gliding turn and vanished through the same doors Asif had exited a few moments earlier.

The woman reclined on her throne, one leg thrown casually over its arm. The thin-faced man stepped forward once again, this time with a crystal goblet of deep red liquid proffered before him.

'Thank you, Vincent.' She took the goblet and drank deeply.

* * *

Heart pounding in his ears, chest heaving, Asif rounded the corner and could see the compound gates a couple of hundred yards distant. He felt no pain from his injured leg, though the tightness and ache in his chest made him regret not giving up smoking years ago as he pounded towards the gates.

With a hundred yards to go, Asif risked a glance over his shoulder but of any pursuit there was no sign. He could not hear anything either, save for the wind in his ears as he ran.

Fifty yards to go and a low, rumbling growl from behind him made Asif's bowels turn to ice water. He risked another quick glance and saw, eyes wide in terror, the two demon dogs bearing down on him, though still a good few yards distant. Sprinting as fast as his leg would allow, Asif reckoned there was still a chance.

* * *

'And let me do the talking,' Botchett instructed Aveena, 'Lady Mandrake and I go way back. She'll be more likely to help if I talk to her, like.' He pulled the bell rope for the second time. 'I wonder what's up. There's usually someone on the gate all the time.'

'Here's someone now, so,' Aveena pointed at the Asian youth running full pelt for the gate. 'Are they always that keen to attend to visitors?'

Botchett pushed Aveena suddenly back into the shadows and away from the gate. 'A hunt,' he said grimly. 'Well, that explains the lack of a reception committee, like.'

Aveena was about to ask about the hunt when there was a tremendous crash as the Asian youth collided with the gate. After shaking it ineffectually a couple of times, he began a desperate climb to the top, and was halfway over, relief on his face, when something grabbed his leg and hauled him quickly back the way he had come. For a split second his eyes met Aveena's, then he was gone.

Botchett shuddered as an unearthly scream rent the night air, followed by a few moments of growling and scraping before everything was still and silent again.

Shortly afterwards, a face appeared from a nearby doorway as a stooped figure dressed in layers of ragged clothing shambled towards the gate.

'I request audience with Lady Mandrake,' demanded Botchett.

The figure squinted down at him before the filthy face split wide into a huge grin. 'Why, it's Master Pilgrim, isn't it? Come ye in, come ye in.'

A heavy chain was removed from the gate, and it was dragged open just far enough for Botchett and Aveena to squeeze through the gap, before being slammed and securely locked again.

'Ye know the way, Master Pilgrim,' said the gatekeeper, 'Just mind your step, it's likely to be a mite slippery underfoot this evening.

Botchett and Aveena gingerly picked their way across the cobbles in the direction of Lady Mandrake's citadel.

________________________

This week also marks the release of the third episode in The Great Chocolate Conspiracy multi-part story. You can find episode 3 over at Attack of the Muses. Don't forget to follow the #GtChocCo hashtag on Twitter for more updates on this project. For more information, and to read from the beginning, please go here.

#FridayFlash: The UCF Stories #20: Lady Mandrake