Page 2 of These Violent Delights

As she ran under its shadow, she passed through something that felt like jellied broth.Startled, she staggered and sent a panicked glance behind her.

The beasts bounced off the barrier, but the remaining soldiers and Tank’s rams thundered through as if it were nothing.

A ward, she realized.The castle was protected by a ward!

Realizing she was in danger of being trampled, she dashed for the weathered door.The knocker was oddly shaped and glowing, but she didn't have time to worry about that.She grabbed it and got the shock of her life.

Lightning shot into her fingertips and traveled out through her feet, temporarily paralyzing her and leaving scorched footprints on the ground.Her hair stood on end and smoked with electric fire.Pain lit her nerves on fire and she shivered with vengeful power.

The castle had found her at last, and it was mad.

She had heard stories, speculation that the castle was alive.Now she had no doubt.Anger, frustration, and impatience pounded at her, courtesy of the castle, followed by grumpiness, then satisfaction.Belatedly, a note of concern.

The door opened and admitted her into the courtyard.It felt like the stones moved under her feet, tilting her away from the doorway.

Zelda staggered to the side and face-planted on the stone.Her slack arms caught some of her weight, but her cheek and nose smacked the stone pavers.

“Secure the castle!”Uncle Tank roared, and then pointed at an old goblin who had come to see what the fuss was about.“You!Help her up.”

Zelda whimpered as the old goblin hauled her to her feet.She wanted to throw up, and she'd wet herself, just a little.Everything hurt.

The old goblin stared at her.“Lady Zelda?”he said uncertainly.They'd never met, but he'd probably been expecting her.

Zelda grunted.It was fortunate that she had moved out of the doorway because the rest of her party tumbled in after her.Some still had battle rams, some didn't.Her uncle remained mounted and his sword was wet with black blood.

The door slammed shut behind them.

The sergeant was missing, so Uncle Tank took command.He used to be in charge of the army here, and the soldiers instinctively obeyed as he ordered them to secure the castle.

“How hurt are you?”Uncle Tank demanded of Zelda.

Zelda stared at him blankly for a moment, and then ran for the nearest outhouse as her guts tried to escape all exits at once.

She was doing badly, actually.This was not an auspicious beginning.

It was hardly a triumphant entrance.Men were busy seeing to the wounded and the remaining battle rams.Zelda was hustled inside by the flustered old goblin, out of the wind.

“The wild things have gotten out of control around here; not surprising with only ten men to hold the fort.Rations are short, and as you can see, the castle isn't what it was.”The old goblin was the steward, one of the last of the castle folk.Her dramatic entrance had rattled him, and now he was babbling.

He was also the one who had sent the soldiers to fetch her, as her father had instructed.

She had expected a stern goblin, one who would try to rule her.Instead, the steward seemed glum, defeated.He'd seen the glory days of the castle, and now here was the returned daughter, the promised savior, and the castle had nearly killed her.

The “castle” consisted of a cottage-sized space with a small kitchen at one end and an office at the other.A door led off the sitting room, revealing a bedroom.There didn’t seem to be a second story, or at least there was no way to access it.

It was starting to look like they would have to sleep either on the floor there or in the barracks with the soldiers.

Did they have rats here?

“I didn't know when to expect you,” the steward said uneasily.“I would have sent to the village for food, but the beasts are stirred up.I had some bread this morning...but I ate it.There's some butter left, though.”They looked at the small pot of butter on the table.He lifted the lid to peer doubtfully inside.She saw crumbs littering the smidgen of butter.

“I have an onion somewhere.Maybe we can fry it in butter?”the old steward suggested hopefully.

Zelda hated onions.She wilted a little, before forcing her spine straight.It was food and she was starving.They had eaten all their rations on the way here, and she couldn't afford to be picky.

“Do you have any water?”she croaked.She was thirsty and needed to wash up so she could inspect her scrapes and bruises to see what needed salve.The last thing she needed in this backwater hellhole was an infected cut.

“Er...”He looked around his dirty kitchen, searching in vain for a clean cup.

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