"I know you don't have the plague," Elissa said as she snuggled closer to the gatp girl on the cot they shared. She picked up a straw that had fallen out of the hole in her mattress, and began to tickle her under her nose with it. "You don't have to be telling me every moment. The truth is that I would prefer that you stop talking about it."
"Maybe I'm trying to calm down myself." Elysia replied as she caught her wrist to immobilize her hand, then reached out with her other to tickle her. "Who was that you were talking to earlier?" she asked.
"When?"
"In the tavern. A young man who looked like he had just come from a farm."
"Ah, so you saw it?" she asked in a voice of feigned innocence.
"It looks like it is."
"It was Hans."
"And who is Hans?" Elysia asked quietly.
"Just a friend."
"Apparently he doesn't think so, judging by the look he gave me."
"We used to go out together when he was in town, but he was very jealous and had a very bad temper."
"He hit you?"
"Nope; he beat up any man who looked at me in a way he thought was wrong. The village elders had had enough of him and put him in the stocks. After that he ran away to the city to seek his fortune, according to what he told me."
"And that's why you came here? To look for it?"
"Can be. That was a long time ago, and Bergheim is a very big place; what's more. She hadn't seen him again until tonight, when he entered The Stinky Pig. Not much has changed."
"Were you very close?"
"In other times."
"And now not?"
-Nope. It was at the time when I still liked boys." Elissa looked at her with a serious face. "You ask a lot of questions, Elysia."
"Then don't let him do them" he answered and began to kiss her passionately, now Elysia understood why Elissa liked girls. Nevertheless, she continued to ask herself mental questions about Elissa and Hans, and what had happened between them.
♦ ♦ ♦
Black Magician Dhalthar helped himself to another pinch of manastone powder. The potent brain-disrupting drug from him sent a rush of raw energy through her body, her tail standing up in ecstatic glee. He basked in the warm glow of triumph.
The plan that he had intricately drawn up had succeeded, and the intentions of his rival, Heskit One-Eyed, who wanted to seize all the technological secrets of humans, had been thwarted.
Dhalthar's fangs were bared by the skull's grin that appeared on his muzzle as he considered Heskit's defeat.
He had made the proud warlock engineer crawl in the dust before his entire army as he explained what he had been doing. He had taunted Heskit for nearly jeopardizing the entire glorious campaign of assault because of his ill-considered actions, and made him scurry away from his presence with his tail between his paws.
Heskit had retreated sulkily to his quarters to await the reinforcements that would arrive to replace the warriors he had lost on the surface. With any luck, no new warrior would arrive. Heskit might even be summoned to the great den to explain his actions to his superiors. Perhaps, Dhalthar thought. "That course of action may be encouraged if a word is whispered in the right ear."
The curtain separating Dhalthar's private lair from the rest of the Underway parted to one side and a small ratfolk entered.
Reflexively, Dhalthar leaped behind the throne, a gruesome glow of dark magic encircling his paw as he summoned the energy to grind the intruder to dust, then saw that it was Tell-Tongue and held back the spell for the sake of it. moment.
"Serious news! O most potentate of potentates!" he squealed Tell-Tongue, and then fell silent as he became aware of the aura of magic surrounding the Black Magician. "No, no! oh, most merciful of lords, don't kill me! Do not do it! Do not do it!"
"Never, under pain of the most atrocious death, break into my lair again without making yourself announced; ever," said Dhalthar, not relaxing his vigilance for a moment. After all, he could never know when an assassination attempt might take place. Jealous rivals were everywhere.
"Yes, yes! oh, most perceptive of magicians! It will never happen again. But is that…"
"What?"
"It's that I bring you the most important news, great."
"Which are?"
"I've heard rumors..."
"Rumours? Don't break into my holy lair to tell me about rumors!"
"These are rumors from a usually reliable source; the highest authority."
Dhalthar nodded. That was different. Over the past few days, Dhalthar had come to feel a certain respect for the host of Tell-Tongue's confidants. The little ratfolk had a talent for information almost rivaling Dhalthar's…; almost.
"Go ahead. Speech! Speech! Don't waste my precious time!"
"Yes Yes! I have heard rumors that Crippled Felbrood and his main acolytes have left the Underroads and moved above ground, to the human city, where they have established a secret lair."
"What is the pontiff of the Morbus Clan up to?" wondered Dhalthar, whose mind felt dizzy. What could that mean?
Inevitably, it implied treason against the sacred Ratfolk cause, some scheme designed to take glory that rightfully belonged to Dhalthar.
"Follow!"
"They may have taken the Cauldron of a Thousand Plagues with them!"
"Oh no!" Dhalthar thought. The cauldron was believed to be one of the most monstrously powerful artifacts possessed by Clan Morbus. Dhalthar had heard horrendous stories regarding his powers. It was said that it was the means to infallibly prepare terrible diseases. The artifact had been stolen by the Rat God himself of Pestus, the Dark Lord of Pestilence and God of Plagues, and had been reconsecrated by the Great Rat God.
If the cauldron was somewhere on the surface, it could only mean that Crippled Felbrood intended to spread an epidemic among humans. Under normal circumstances, Dhalthar would have been glad for such an eventuality, but as long as he was a thousand leagues away from the place! Clan Morbus' epidemics had a habit of raging out of control, afflicting ratfolk as well as their chosen human victims. Only the Plague Priests themselves seemed immune. Many seemingly certain Ratfolk triumphs had been undermined by just such events. The Morbus Clan was only supposed to release their creations at that time with the express authorization of the Council.
The last thing Dhalthar wanted then was to see his army destroyed by a rampant epidemic. He considered even more deeply the significance of it all. Of course, the Council did not argue when a success was achieved. Perhaps the epidemic would succeed in weakening the humans without afflicting the ratfolk horde. But if that happened, it was possible that the council would shift their favor to Crippled Felbrood and withdraw Dhalthar's protection. Perhaps Caldovil would even be rewarded with command of the invading army.
What else could be happening in that case? If the plan was an honest effort, designed to facilitate the invasion, why hadn't Dhalthar been informed? After all, he was the supreme commander. Nope; that had to be a sinister plan by Caldovil to seize power from him. Something would have to be done about this betrayal and this blatant defiance of the edicts of the Council.
Then Dhalthar realized something else. Agents from his surface had already reported that a dreadful new disease was spreading among the human burrows. There was no doubt that Crippled Felbroth had already set his evil plan in motion. There was no time to lose!
"Hurry! hurry up Where have those treacherous vermin gone?
"I don't know, oh, most sublime of lords! My agents couldn't tell me."
"Runs! hurry up hurry up Go find out."
"Immediately! oh most determined of chiefs!"
"Wait! Wait! Before you go, bring me parchment and quill. I have an idea."
♦ ♦ ♦
"You sneezed!" Elissa said.
"It isn't true!" Elysia replied, fully aware that she was lying. Her eyes were swollen and drops were dripping from her nose. She was also sweating a little, and what she felt was the first tickle of a swollen throat?
Elissa had a fit of dry cough. She covered her mouth with one hand, but her entire body reflected the shock of hers.
"You coughed," the catgirl said, and she immediately wished she hadn't because tears began to well up in the girl's eyes.
"Oh Elysia!" she wailed. "Do you think I have the plague?"
"Nope; I'm sure not," Elysia replied, but deep down she wasn't nearly as sure. A cold terror seized her. "Get dressed" she asked him. "We're going to see a doctor."
♦ ♦ ♦
That day the doctor was very busy; "it's obvious." Elysia thought. The line out of the seedy little office went halfway around the block. It gave the impression that half the city was there, coughing, gasping, clearing its throat and spitting in the street. There was an atmosphere of barely contained panic, and once or twice the cat girl saw people fighting.
"It's useless." she decided. Under these conditions, they would never get to see the doctor that day, and the priestesses of the Mother's temple were packed with supplicants. She had to have something better.
"Let's go. I have an idea," she said as he grabbed Elissa's hand and pulled her off her tail.
"No, Elysia, I want to see the doctor."
"And you'll see... Don't worry."