Chapter 5: They're off to see the artificer.

Rekka whimpered with dread, her misery total as the terrible man continued to torture her. She struggled vainly against his brute strength, but escape was impossible. She questioned despairingly where her gentle loving husband had gone, leaving her with this despicable unfeeling beast.

“Oh, quit your bitching, I’m nearly done,” Bill said, wheedling yet another knot free from the handful of damp hair he held in his fist.

The wholly insufficient comb struggled valiantly against the hellhounds fluffy mane that had been more tangle than tress when they’d begun. Likely the little ivory instrument had been meant for its previous owner’s curling mustache. Bill adapted to its shortcomings, the job was just too important to him.

Rekka’s struggles increased, her whimpers turning to vexed snarls, as she tried to pry his legs from around her waist, currently holding her hostage by the stream bank.

Bill sighed, the morning had started off so wonderfully, too.

When they woke, Bill had peeled himself from the furs after their night of debauchery and they broke their fast on more venison. Once again, he had fed Rekka first while she lay in his lap, entrenching a tradition that would likely follow them throughout the unconventional relationship.

Bill did not mind, nearly everything Rekka did served to endear her to him more. Perhaps he just enjoyed pampering women, though none of his previous relationships had mirrored this in the least. Which probably explained why they had not lasted.

When he finished feeding himself and saw that she was distracted by chewing on the meaty bone he had roasted for just this occasion, Bill bent to the herculean task of taming Rekka’s hair. Bill certainly found her tangled mop attractive in a savage, barbarian sort of way, but when he imagined it groomed and free of debris, he knew it would be glorious. He would readily admit to being entirely obsessed by this point, though he’d never paid much attention to a woman’s hair before. Another point in the poor prior relationship tally.

Bill committed to his mission with single minded determination. He ignored the tangles, for now. There were just too many, set in their ways with no desire to change. A few had grown powerful and cunning, likely older than his boots and wise to his tricks. He would not attack them until after the bath he had planned for her next, soaking them thoroughly until they loosened with the help of a little soap. Instead he simply wanted to remove the detritus that had accumulated from her daily roving about the wilderness.

A pile of twigs and dry leaves grew as he labored. Among the more surprising finds was the small desiccated corpse of a lizard, having spent its final desperate moments in battle with one of the craftier tangles. Bill tugged if free at last, turning it over in his hands, fascinated by the look of horror on its reptilian visage.

So intense was his scrutiny he was surprised when he realized that Rekka had begun humming quietly. She seemed to be relishing the attention he lavished upon her, eyes closed and completely relaxed. The formerly meaty bone, now stripped clean, lay under her paw as she gently rolled it back and forth.

Bill smiled to himself, taking most of her hair in his hands and shaking it a bit, interested to see if any other lost woodland creatures would tumble forth. None did, likely the tangles held them fast, guarding their prizes jealously.

Job complete, he scratched at Rekka’s ears and scalp, enjoying her closeness and listening to her hum for a bit.

“Glad you enjoyed that as much as I did,” he commented.

Rekka’s eyes popped open, and she twisted about until she was lying on her back in his lap, a slight smile on her lips.

“Yeah ... My papa used to do that for me, when I was small. I hated it then, didn’t like sittin’ still. I’d rather be wrestlin’ or playin’,” she said softly, seeming to lose herself in her bittersweet memory. Finally, she focused on him again.

Smiling warmly, she said, “Now it’s ... nice.”

Reaching for her paws he pulled her up to him, kissing her gently for a moment before pushing his legs under himself and drawing them both to their feet.

“C’mon, lets get cleaned up. I’m dying to try out that soap, and you can watch me use that straight razor. I may need you patch me back up,” he said lightly, truthfully worried about the razor, but mostly he was waiting to see how she reacted to the prospect of a bath. He didn’t relish the prospect of dragging a disgruntled hellhound into the water. He’d do it, though, he’d have that hair combed yet.

“Kay!” Rekka replied, pulling free and happily skipping towards the exit.

Bill shook his head, amused. He really shouldn’t have been surprised, of course she bathed regularly. He knew from experience that she was clean enough to eat off of. It seemed she just didn’t worry too much about her hair. Well, from now on that would be his cross to bear.

Bill took a moment to gather up the little pile of debris and place it onto the glowing embers of the fire, dropping the dried lizard on top. It would serve as its pyre and send the brave little warrior’s soul off to Valhalla.

Snatching up a saddlebag he’d filled with the toiletries and their spare bandages he jogged to catch up with Rekka. She waited for him in the morning sunlight. Linking her arm through his they strolled to the stream.

When they arrived he unwound the bandages to inspect his wound. It seemed alright to him, far less blood soiled the bandages than expected, and it wasn’t leaking anything green or noxious. Itched like the devil, though he managed to resist. Rekka sniffed it a bit and proclaimed it to be healing nicely.

They undressed, Rekka tossing her strips of leather one could generously call an outfit onto the pile Bill had gathered into his arms. Laundry was apparently his duty as well. She ran into the water, screeching and laughing from the cold as she ducked into the waterfall. Grabbing the soap, Bill followed at a more sedate pace, enjoying the view.

Bathing with Rekka was an experience. He was glad for the cold water, otherwise he was certain his physical response to seeing a nude Rekka, her wet skin sparkling in the sunlight as she splashed joyously through the little waterfall would have been all the excuse she needed to delay their impending trip for another day.

He quickly scrubbed their clothing out while she played, then set them aside and pulled her close. They delighted in washing each other’s bodies, taking much more time than was really necessary to scrub the other clean. Bill was honestly surprised her breasts weren’t polished to a mirror sheen when he finally relented.

At last he got to her hair, using a good portion of the bar of soap to lather her to his satisfaction. He worked at her scalp and locks diligently, trying to ignore Rekka’s ass pressing into him as she luxuriated in the sensations his hands were giving her.

Bill glared at her hair with mad intensity, trying to will the tangles into surrendering their hold. Right now, he’d butcher a round table of knights for a bottle of conditioner. Not fully satisfied but beginning to lose feeling in his extremities from the cold despite Rekka’s warmth, he rinsed her clean and together they exited the stream.

While Rekka shook her body dry in a spray of droplets Bill laid out their clothing in the sun, pausing to watch her keenly as she gyrated. When the show ended he pulled out the straight razor and used a bit more of the soap to lather his face. Hesitantly he drew the razor across his stubble. Finding no blood when he felt at the smooth skin he began to shave, becoming more confident as he went. Finishing, and only nicking himself twice, he rinsed off. Rekka cooed as she rubbed the pads of her paws over his now smooth face.

After she assisted him in redressing his wound Bill sat Rekka down in front of him to comb her hair. At first, she was pleased for him to pay her more attention. Until, that is, he lost his grip on her damp hair and tugged her scalp as the comb hit a snag. She’d have leapt away and be done with the whole process if he hadn’t locked his legs around her and held her tight. Now the real fight would begin, as she howled and protested his every stroke. Bill refused to yield, he would not be denied.

“Finished!” Bill said with a cry of triumph, sliding the comb free and flexing his cramping fingers.

It had finally begun slipping smoothly through her hair without snagging. He beheld her long silky black tresses, his great work complete, his joy boundless.

Rekka had gone still, her protests silenced. A trap, he knew. She was planning her revenge, waiting for him to lower his guard. He’d have to act swiftly to avoid whatever dire plot she had concocted. Stretching over to his boot he pulled out his phone, tapping quickly to open the front facing camera.

Ready, he relaxed his grip on Rekka with his legs. Immediately she jumped to her feet and wheeled on him, a ferocious look in her eyes. Bill held up the phone like a talisman.

“Just take a look before you do anything I’ll regret for the rest of my life,” he said, praying she wouldn’t just slap it away and take her vengeance.

Rekka’s eyes glanced at the phone, then back to him. His heart quailed for a moment, but her eyes drew back to the phone and she inched forward a bit for a better look, now curious. Her lips parted, astonished at what she saw. Bill expelled a relieved breath, and struggled to his feet awkwardly, still holding the phone up to her as she now twisted and turned, trying to see her hair from every angle.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked as she posed.

Ignoring him she drew her shiny hair over her shoulder to look at it directly, amazed at how it curled, flowed and reached nearly to her waist. She ran her claws through it, a delighted smile playing on her lips. Bill handed her the phone and showed her how she could angle it around for a better view. He watched her with pride as she twirled, laughing as her hair flowed behind her like a glossy cloak, amazed at how it fell to her tail when she stood still. Satisfied, she handed him back his phone and pressed herself to him, her face in his chest.

Quietly she said, “Thank you, husband.”

Then she dug her claws into his sides, looking up at him with cold intensity. Bill whimpered and held still.

“Next time, be more gentle!” she hissed, waiting for his pained nod before letting him go and smiling sweetly up at him.

“It won’t be nearly as bad, I swear. You really should have taken better care of your hair, but from now on it’ll go a lot smoother as long as we keep at it,” he said, rubbing at his sides, amazed to see she hadn’t drawn blood.

“Okay, but if you’re lyin’ I’ll make you sorry. That was awful! But wow, look at it! Never knew my hair could be so pretty,” She said, twirling again to watch it flow.

“Well, I’m glad you’re happy, I’ve been dying to do that since we met. Now, let’s get dressed,” he said, turning his back to pull on his pants.

Rekka came up behind him and placed a paw on his back. Curious, he looked around at her, but she was still staring at his back.

“What is it?” he questioned.

“What’s that drawin’ on your back for?” she asked, curious.

“Shit,” Bill swore, flushing with embarrassment. He turned back to his pants and pulled them on quickly. He had forgotten about that.

He’d gotten a tattoo at a young age, though the shitty strip mall tattoo parlor hadn’t even bothered to ask for his fake ID. In a pique of teenage angst, he had asked for a barcode to be inked between his shoulder blades. He thought he had been making a statement about materialism, rebelling from ‘the system’ or something. Turned out he had just needed to get laid and mellow out.

Everyone over the age of twenty gave him shit for it, and he had planned to have that sucker lasered off as soon as he got the chance. He dearly wished he had accomplished that before he had carried his shame into this new world. He bet if you scanned it into a UPC system it would ring up a fedora. Bill shuddered.

“Ah, nothing, a stupid mistake I made when I was younger. Wish I’d never gotten the damn thing,” he said, still not looking at her as he waited for his face to cool, sitting down to pull on his socks.

“Well, I like it. It’s pretty,” Rekka said, examining the red and black geometrically complex symbols.

They were grouped artistically on his upper back forming a dense intricate pattern. The meaning was lost on Rekka, but she found it very pleasing to look upon. The pattern seemed to shift whenever Bill moved, causing her to blink and shake her head. Shrugging, believing it must be some strange human custom from his silly world, she padded off to dress as well.

No trace of the faded and crooked tattoo remained, which would have pleased Bill to no end, had he known it.

“Uh, thanks ... C’mon, let’s head back,” Bill replied as he stood, questioning her taste, but intensely relieved she hadn’t mocked him.

Bill struggled into the chainmail shirt he’d looted off of the dearly departed Flavius. The man would not need it where he was, buried in a shallow grave the deceased lord shared spooning with Matius a short distance from the cave.

Tugging the chain into place Bill found it a reasonable fit, hanging loosely, not binding his movements as he twisted about testing. It fell to his upper thigh, the loose half sleeves hanging just past his own shirt’s sleeves. He probably looked quite foolish, based on Rekka’s amused expression, but he didn’t mind.

A bolt through his arm had awakened an urge for self-preservation he had really been lacking. He planned to take any advantage he could find, no matter how ridiculous he looked. That in mind, he strapped the plate bracers to his forearms, fumbling with the leather straps a bit until he got them settled. He rolled his wrists and bent his arms around, making sure they didn’t restrict his movement or pinch his wound.

He considered pulling on the gauntlets as well, but he’d found they made it difficult to use his hands for anything more complex than punching and grabbing. He would bring them anyway. Punching and grabbing should probably come up a lot if his luck held true.

He stuffed the gauntlets and everything else they would be taking with them into one of the saddlebags, not that they had many possessions. He had rigged together a carrying strap for it out of the confused jumble of horse gear he had stripped from Flavius’s mount, turning it into a serviceable satchel. He’d tied a couple of tightly rolled furs to use as bedding to hang securely below it. All pretty clever, he admitted to himself, pleased with his own ingenuity.

He briefly wondered how that horse was getting on. Hopefully not in some mamono’s belly. It had been very forgiving of the murder of its master and had endured Bill’s inept struggles removing the saddle and tack with aplomb. He wished the nameless horse Godspeed on its journey of self-discovery.

Finally, he strapped Flavius’s scabbarded broadsword to his back on the sling that seemed to be made for that sort of thing. He had swung it a bit experimentally earlier, feeling extremely foolish. Easy enough to handle, its weight nothing to him now, but he was sure anyone with a modicum of skill would be laughing at his antics. He clearly couldn’t use it worth a damn, but only Rekka knew that. It’d just stick over his shoulder, earning them friends.

Settling the satchel into place on his hip, he turned to Rekka and spread his arms.

“Well, what do you think?” he asked, waiting for the laughter.

“Hmm ... Well, you’re real shiny now,” Rekka said uncertainly, then glanced down at his satchel.

“Nice purse!” she complimented, no trace of ridicule in her tone.

“Thanks, it wasn’t on sale, but I just had to have it,” Bill replied, admiring his newly christened purse.

Bill looked around the cave, making sure they weren’t forgetting anything useful. Satisfied, he held his hand out to Rekka. Smiling up at him, she took it and they walked out into the sunlight together. Stopping, he gave Rekka a moment to look back at her little cave.

He watched as Rekka made her silent goodbyes to her cozy little home. He knew she was upset to be leaving, but likely she assumed they would be returning sooner rather than later. Bill had decided he wanted much better for her.

He would build her a real house if he had to, but he really hoped to find a community they could join. Rekka deserved better than a lonely hole in the ground in some forgotten wild. If nothing else, he had no real regard for the laws and property rights of this world. Maybe he could find some quaint village to sack and start up their own mamono friendly tribe. This was an adventure, after all.

Those cheerfully bloodthirsty thoughts in his mind, and Rekka done with her farewells, they began their journey.

“Be careful!” Bill called out to Rekka, who gleefully ignored his cries, crashing into the undergrowth to chase something small, fluffy, and terrified.

While they had started out walking close together, just enjoying the fine weather, Rekka soon became bored and began ranging about to explore. Bill had been a little amused to find that he really had steered the soldiers in the right direction, and they traveled steadily north for a few hours.

Rekka had almost immediately shed any reservations about leaving and had become excited to see a bit more of the world. Barking at small creatures, scaring up flights of birds, she was greatly enjoying their walk.

Bill, on the other hand, was starting to feel a bit of dread at his current circumstances. When he’d first stepped through the portal he’d have been of his usual mind about setting forth on a quest to save the world. That is to say, he’d have been mildly sardonic and prepared to tolerate whatever magical chicanery he encountered. Now, though, he had Rekka to worry for and he prayed he could see her safely through whatever trials came their way.

His lowered mood could also be attributed to the new assortment of twigs Rekka was busily accumulating in her freshly combed hair.

Since Rekka was being so thoughtful as to flit about him, randomly choosing to investigate anything that caught her interest, Bill decided to experiment with his shiny new Huntstone. He’d already learned that it would light up when he pressed his fingers along the side into two indentations, but with a mamono sitting in his lap it just flashed a steady white light no matter where he pointed.

Now he was able to quite easily follow Rekka’s movements around him, although that wasn’t much of a trick as all one had to do was follow the excited barking and giggling. Next, he tried twisting the dial a bit, and found it no longer tracked Rekka. It seemed to light up randomly as he pointed, the light dim or brighter as he moved it about. Seems the dial was a kind of range setting, he could choose to dial it in and out, and it seemed to ignore anything closer the farther it spun. He would have to find a local to tell him the measurements, for all he knew he was tracking mamono in the next state, or just a few hundred feet.

Spinning the dial to its end it clicked slightly into place. Now the crystal stayed on, though it was fairly dim. He heard Rekka fast approaching, noticing the light grew brighter the closer she came. She burst forth from the undergrowth fast on the trail of a thoroughly upset squirrel, chittering its displeasure. As she flew by him the crystal peaked in brightness, slowly dimming again as she crashed after the squirrel in hot pursuit. A proximity sensor, then. Handy, if you weren’t traveling with a mamono already, he supposed.

He felt he ought to be overwhelmed with such an obvious example of real magic held in his hands, but truthfully his cellphone was a lot more impressive. Hell, a stud finder would probably be anointed as a holy artifact by these yokels. He wondered if all their magic was so lackluster.