FANTASY | ACTION-ADVENTURE | PULP | HORROR | LGBTQ

The Virgin’s Peril

The fearless Sinru confronts a demonic monster, but Saan unveils the transformative power of compassion.

The world knew him as the Barbarian. Some called him ‘thief’ and ‘slayer.’ Others called him ‘hero.’ One called him ‘father.’ She was Sinru, product of a drunken night the Barbarian spent in a nameless village before he wandered to lands far away. Sinru grew up strong and willful, angry and hedonistic. When the masters of empire burned her village and took her mother, she, too, wandered. She came into the world like a storm — dark-eyed, cursed, ravenous — to challenge the powers on earth and defy the dominion of demons.

In the depths of the Khaimeign’s swamps, under a glowing twilight blunted by a hundred shades of green, Sinru the Barbarian hacked through an entangled mess of brambles. Her coarse hair was as dark as the peat beneath her feet, and she brushed it aside to glance at Saan who followed behind.

Saan, golden-haired and smiling to herself, moved with an ease that belied the treacherous terrain. Beyond Saan followed the corpses of men long dead. They were a curse bequeathed from Sinru’s father, who angered powerful creatures enough that they visited their wrath on his offspring.

However, today, the skeletal retinue carried an impressive amount of freshly caught fish. Sinru’s eyebrow arched as she gestured toward the corpses.

“I still can’t believe they fish for me.”

Saan shrugged. “I guess we’re lucky.”

“Since when have we ever been lucky?”

They both laughed at the joke they had shared for a year as they journeyed through a swamp with little respite from rain, cold, hunger, or danger.

The incessant droning of insects and quarreling birds filled their journey until suddenly, a terrified wail cut through the monotony. From the misty veil of the swamp emerged a girl, her peasant dress tattered and streaked with mud.

“They want to feed me to the demon!” she cried.

Saan received the girl into her embrace.

“Demon?” Sinru tossed her wool cloak from her shoulders and drew both swords from the scabbards on her back.

Six rugged men pushed through the dense foliage into view. Leading them was a man of tremendous stature with a chiseled jaw and penetrating eyes. Clutched in his sturdy grip was a stout staff, carved from black wood and polished to a shine. His lean companion inspected them with eagle-eyed intensity. Three weary men followed, their bodies slick with perspiration.

“Halt!” Sinru’s command was punctuated by the menacing gleam of her twin swords.

“Release her,” commanded the leader. “She’s destined for Araknoch.”

Sinru’s swords rose higher.

The man glanced at his companions before saying, “Our village will lose more than one girl if the demon doesn’t get its sacrifice.”

“Sacrifice?” protested Saan, tightening her arms around the girl. “She’s a child.”

“You stand six strong.” Sinru’s voice dripped with scorn as she observed the men’s every twitch. “Yet you would fight us for this innocent rather than confront a beast? Tell me the name of your village so I may spread the infamy of its timid men.”

The leader hissed and stepped closer, but then he noticed the skeletal figures lurking in the surrounding trees. “What have you done to these men? Is this some demon army at the command of a witch?”

Sinru had been trying for weeks to get her mindless retinue to do something besides fish. With an eye roll, she retorted, “Fishing is all — ”

“Yes!” interrupted Saan. “These dead men will attack on our command.”

Sinru frowned at Saan.

The leader stood his ground, his face alternating between fear and bewilderment. “Two women — even one with a man’s weapons and an army of the dead — will not stop us. Surrender the child, and no harm will come to you.”

Sinru didn’t move.

With a shout, the leader lunged at her, swinging his weighty staff. Sinru deftly sidestepped his strike, and the wood hit the ground, splattering mud. She swung her leg, kicking, and sending the leader sprawling.

Although she was not gifted with patience, she had no desire to add to her skeletal following. Every man she killed would eventually join her slowly decomposing retinue, a curse she had lived with since she was twelve. So, she maintained a defensive fight.

The lean man stabbed at her with his spear, but Sinru met his attack and parried his aggressive thrusts with her swords. Then, she kicked him into the mud, as well.

The remaining three men charged, but Sinru’s agility and strategic strikes ensured their efforts were in vain. After a few more attempts, the villagers lay sprawled in the swamp — muddy, bruised, and bleeding.

“You’re no woman.” The leader regained his footing but leaned on his staff. “You’re a damnable witch!”

Sinru stood tall. “I’m known to many as The Barbarian’s Daughter.”

The man mouthed the words silently. “You killed the warlord at Ten Spears. Then you stole something of great value from the new warlord. There’s a bounty on your head.”

Sinru side-eyed Saan, who shrugged. To the leader, she said, “So you think you’ll collect that bounty?”

“I have no interest in it. There’s something more valuable to me. You can kill the demon.”

“Oh no.” Sinru laughed bitterly. “I don’t need any more demons knowing my name.”

“I’m Tekit, the chief of Black Rock. We’re a small village, but we make the best tools and weapons. Our shaman believes the demon was sent by the warlord’s mage in the hope that we would abandon our ancestral land so he might steal our obsidian. At every full moon, Araknoch demands a virgin sacrifice. If we’re late, it attacks our village destroying whatever it can. Help us.”

“I’m not in the helping business.”

“Would it matter if I told you the girl is my own flesh and blood? She’s Amra, my youngest.”

“I can help,” said Saan. “What if I take her place?”

With alarm, Sinru sheathed one sword. She seized Amra by her arm and pulled her away from Saan. “This is not our problem.”

Tekit looked at Saan. “Who does the Daughter travel with?”

“I’m an acolyte of Katan. I’m willing to take her place. An offering. Bait. When the demon comes for me, you can kill it.”

“You’re brave to offer,” Tekit bit his lip. “But Araknoch demands purity. It won’t leave us alone for any but a virgin.”

“Such am I,” said Saan.

Silence followed. Sinru looked at Saan. Saan looked at Sinru.

“You said you serve Katan,” said Tekit.

“Being an acolyte of Katan forbids marriage.” The answer didn’t seem to be enough, so Saan added, “I’ve never known a man.”

Sinru’s eyes narrowed with skepticism.

She had never turned down an opportunity for sex, not even from that old witch who captured her and put her spirit into a tree before the woodpecker freed her and she found the witch drunk on fairy ale. Sinru then seduced the witch but later told Saan the seduction was a scheme to steal the locket that held Saan’s spirit. But really, the witch had given her the locket in gratitude after a few days of energetic sex that left Sinru wondering just how old the witch really was.

Sinru’s eyes narrowed even more.

She was sure Saan had an interest in men, and men were much easier to bed than women. She also wondered about a god of love that drew sexless acolytes into his service.

All-in-all, “Saan the Virgin” was hard to believe.

After a few moments of reflection, Sinru shook her head and muttered, “Well, that explains the lack of prostitutes at the temple I visited.”

The villagers exchanged skeptical glances, as well, likely perplexed by two women traveling alone. This meant the women were witches, and witches couldn’t be trusted.

Saan took a deep breath and continued, steadfast. “I’ll bring the demon forth. When it emerges, you’ll kill it, Sin.”

“No, you won’t. And no, I won’t. Remember that witch? You thought she needed our help, too, and we almost died because she was terrible.”

“But not terrible in bed.”

Sinru stepped closer and lowered her voice. “Well yes, but you didn’t complain when you got biscuits and a hair ribbon, either. What will we get from risking our lives to kill a demon?”

“It’s not about that.”

“It should be.”

“I’ll go alone,” insisted Saan.

“No, you won’t.”

“I’m going.”

Sinru huffed and shoved the girl, who retreated into the safety of Saan’s arms. The villagers expressed their gratitude in a flood of words, but Sinru waved them off.

Saan gave her cloak to Amra and sat talking with her. As the men discussed a daring plan, Sinru watched Saan and reflected on her best friend, a beautiful woman who was so much more than a beautiful woman.

Sinru decided that, for Saan, she would face even a thousand-legged spider, although she hoped Araknoch had the standard eight.

Twilight was near when the villagers escorted Sinru and Saan to a mysterious lake, its dark water seemingly bottomless yet surprisingly shallow. The blackness originated from the loam and obsidian-laced shores.

Beyond the lake was a cave that breathed out a chilly wind and carried the scent of decay.

Saan stood on a makeshift barge, a crude construction of tethered logs. As the barge was nudged into the lake, Sinru and the village men followed, wading through the viscous mud, accompanied by the awkward sloshing of Sinru’s skeletal minions.

An eerie silence had Sinru trading looks with Saan until a shriek erupted from the cave.

A behemoth of a spider emerged. Araknoch.

Its eyes burned with an unholy flame. An impenetrable chitinous armor covered its body. Its mouth dripped venom that glowed like molten gold as it hit the water.

Sinru held her twin blades glinting in the fading light of day. The villagers clutched their spears, their faces alive with fear.

As the line of men flanked the beast, Sinru surged forward and struck a hairy leg, thick as a young cypress. The sword drew no damage, but the reverberation made her grunt. She struck the leg again, and to her horror, her sword cracked.

As Araknoch drove another leg toward her, she raised her other sword to protect her face. The leg struck her like an avalanche, flinging her backward.

She hit the ground and lost her breath. A moment later, she scrambled to her feet. Mud glued her fingers together, and she shook ferociously to release it. Her second sword had cracked and had been flung to a distant watery grave.

She was disarmed, but the villagers, inspired by her boldness, lunged at the beast. Their weapons also failed to penetrate the chitinous exoskeleton, but they harried the monster, bashing and stabbing at the softer areas around the joints.

Amid the chaos, Sinru snatched a floating branch. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but she smacked at Araknoch’s eyes as it lowered its head trying to grasp her with carnivorous fangs that no spider should possess.

Sinru kept Araknoch back, but venom splashed the villagers, burning holes into their leather tunics like splashes of fire.

Still floating some distance behind the fray, Saan had begun a rhythmic chant. Araknoch tried to push through to reach Saan, but Sinru managed to keep the beast at bay.

Saan prayed to Katan for help. Although she often prayed for help for herself and Sinru, this time she felt compelled to pray for the spider. She couldn’t say why, but she felt a gentle creature was struggling against the control of a vicious power.

Part of Saan’s neck began to pulse with a yellow light that traveled down her throat. Soon, a glow spread across her chest just above her heart. The villagers, in the throes of battle, hardly noticed.

Saan’s chant rose into a beautiful song. As the melody seeped into the twilight, Araknoch ceased its thrashing. Its fury seemed to abate, and for a moment, it stood perfectly still.

That was the moment Sinru and the villagers had been waiting for.

They plunged their weapons into its joints, scoring deeper wounds. Sinru leapt onto Araknoch’s back, her branch coming down repeatedly on the many soft eyes. Screeches reverberated through the swamp. As the villagers began to shout excitedly, the colossal beast quivered, and its belly sunk into the swamp.

They had subdued the demon!

But Saan’s song continued and changed. It became softer, more lulling, and Araknoch began to transform.

Its enormous body deflated. Its hardened chitinous armor softened. The villagers stepped back in awe as the monstrosity shrunk smaller and smaller, its grotesque form altering until it was merely the fishing spider it had once been.

It scuttled onto a small plug of earth protruding from the middle of the lake. The villagers and Sinru encircled the small creature.

The two eyes once angry with hellfire were now wide with fear. It lowered its body, flattening against the rock as if to make itself smaller. Slowly, it raised its mandibles, not to fight but to block its unlidded eyes from the onlookers, as if what it couldn’t see, also couldn’t see it.

The tiny life froze with fear as the massive predators prepared to crush it.

“We’ve driven out the demon,” said Saan. “What remains now is but a creature of the swamp.”

Sinru wondered how a demon manage to invade and deform such a lowly creature. She should kill it to be sure it couldn’t be used again. She stepped closer and raised her stick.

“No, Sin!” shouted Saan.

Sinru was shocked and stopped in her tracks. She had never heard such a tone from Saan before.

Saan stepped into the water and offered her hand to the spider. It crawled onto her palm, and she carried it to the cave.

The villagers, still grappling with the sight, murmured amongst themselves about Saan and what she had done. Sinru knew the courage it took Saan to face the beast from the barge, but it took a compassion she couldn’t fathom to care about the life of vermin.

Black Creek was alive with revelry.

The village of three-thousand lit bonfires, and the air was fragrant with the scent of roasting meats and stone-baked bread, while the sizzle of fires and joyful voices filled the air. Sinru and Saan were seated at the head of the long table in the village’s heart, surrounded by a sea of smiling faces. A feast was spread out before them.

Sinru indulged in as much boar as she could eat. The crisp, gristly meat of a fatty land animal was heavenly. Saan ate her fill of fruits and bread. Both had bathed in warm water and had been given new tunics.

An elder of the village, a hunched woman with a face lined by wisdom and time, raised her cup to them. “To Sinru, our fierce warrior, and Saan, our compassionate savior! We are forever in your debt!”

Some distance behind where Sinru and Saan sat, the silent skeletons stood as mock guards. Some in the village had not accepted their benign intent while others tried to share the revelry with them. One jolly man slapped the headless skeleton’s back. When Headless righted himself, Jolly took another swig of ale and laughed.

As the feast began to wind down, the villagers presented their saviors with gifts made of obsidian, the village’s specialty. Sinru was gifted a sword, the blade so dark, firelight seemed to vanish in it. Saan received an obsidian bowl and pestle. Over the next few days, new wax would be layered on their trousers and cloaks, as well.

“You’ve given us more than peace,” Tekit told them, his eyes twinkling with unshed tears. “You’ve given me my daughter and a story we’ll pass down for generations.”

The hut given to Sinru and Saan for their stay was well-furnished and smelled of cedar. Beeswax candles burned on a wooden table, casting long shadows on the walls. They settled together on a cozy mat, their bodies weary but minds buzzing from recent events.

“That was quite a feast, wasn’t it?” said Sinru. “Will we ever eat like that again?”

“I enjoyed the bath the most.”

“You always smell good.”

“I do?” Saan laughed lightly.

“You smell of lilacs. You don’t know that?”

Sinru pulled off one boot and unwrapped the new cloth she had received from the villages. The fourth toe on her left foot was loose again, another of her curses. She pulled it off and stared at it.

With a grunt, she announced, “The gods bless you with a sweet scent but let my body fall apart.”

She would usually swallow it, but she wasn’t hungry, so she set it in a candle flame where it popped and burned.

“Saan, you’re so beautiful.” Sinru’s voice grew hush. “When you left Ten Spears with me, you said you didn’t want to marry your father’s choice. I thought you were wild, or maybe like me, you preferred women.”

“I have no interest in that at all,” she confessed.

“I see.”

“Do you?”

Sinru laughed and shook her head. “No, not really. But I’ve always admired your courage and kindness, Saan. Now I admire your honesty, too.”

“I was sure you’d find someone to share the night with,” said Saan. “I don’t think the village would deny their savior one night of pleasure.”

Sinru shrugged. “And yet, I have no interest tonight. Isn’t that strange?”

“It is,” replied Saan as she glanced down at her own chest. Her breasts were a little too large for the neckline of her tunic, the result of another of Sinru’s curses. “Your desires always find their expression in my body, so I know how often you think about sex. If you spent the night with someone, I could have my petite body back.”

“I wonder how big they’ll be tomorrow if I don’t.” Sinru waited for some reaction, but Saan just stared at her.

Closing her eyes, Sinru insisted, “It’s funny.”

Saan smirked. “A little.”

“You know I’d do anything for you,” said Sinru. “Do you want me to leave?”

Saan yawned. “Maybe tomorrow.”

She moved closer to Sinru and rested her head on her shoulder. Sinru lay back and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer. In the warmth and security of their shared embrace, they drifted off to sleep.