Ghazan: Part 10: The Dawn
Posted: Fri Feb 20, 2026 9:54 am
Note: The story is not dead! I apologize for the long delay, a nasty case of writer's block and an utter lack of motivation. But I haven't given up on finishing it! I'll be rambling a little about schedules and personal life here. If you don't care about that, just skip the paragraph to go straight into the action. So I'll be as blunt and as quick as I can be. Long story short, I'm nearing the end of my contribution to the Story Section of the Board. You've noticed I slowed down the pace quite considerably. Don't expect it to change. At the very best, it'll remain that way. Most likely, I'll stop uploading stories at some point this year. I won't dwell on my reasons. Most of them are related to changes in my personal life - outside of the Board. New rythm of life basically. I'll focus on finishing the Ghazan Saga - that's my top priority. I want it to be done by Spring. Don't expect anything outlandish or grandiose in terms of scope. Just concluding this saga. I anticipate it'll take three or four uploads - counting the one today and the epilogue. Afterwards, it'll depend. Maybe a quick DC or Marvel thing, but don't bet your head on it. It'll most likely be curtains.
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If you need to refresh your memories, the descriptions of the main characters are in the pilot.
viewtopic.php?t=9225
Eloise, Mathilde, Jan, and Jill are described in various parts of chapter 4.
viewtopic.php?t=9607
The rest of Mathilde's and Eloise's team is described in the epilogue of chapter 5.
viewtopic.php?p=33684&hilit=inej#p33684
And of course you may need to quickly re-check the last part of the previous chapter to understand the plot:
viewtopic.php?t=10990
**************
**************
“Dominique described me the estate.” Zaïde explained to Aisha, Beatrix, and Ezgi. “Our friends are kept far away from the main palace, in an annex building south-west of the domain. The guards and staff watching them have been chosen among Louise’s most loyal people. We’ll probably have to neutralize them.”
“Or we could kill two birds with one stone. Our friends will all need disguises.” Aisha added.
“Swell. It’s not like they outnumber us ten to one.” Beatrix grumbled.
Zaïde shrugged. “Eh. More like seven to one actually. They’re about thirty – servants included. I’m pretty sure you had worst odds during the war.”
The redhead glared at her. “Actually no. Because the king wasn’t stupid.”
Zaïde ignored the insult. “Louise and Gabrielle are both neutralized, Yasmin and Dominique will make sure nobody at the party gets suspicious, and we have the element of surprise, these are our biggest assets.”
“And Rasha?” Beatrix asked.
“We locked her behind. She'll take the fall.”
Beatrix’s face didn’t flinch.
Aisha glanced at her. “You don’t seem very torn up about her betrayal.”
“Do you blame a scorpion for stinging? A snake for biting?” the redhead retorted. “Rasha is only concerned with herself. It’s her nature. I don’t hold it against her. I never had any illusion about our partnership.”
Aisha took the silent accusation in stride – she indeed was the only one who had made the mistake of thinking Rasha was more than what she truly was.
“We’ll have the time to point fingers after we’ve rescued everyone and fled to Dominique’s estate.” Zaïde interrupted them. “For now, let’s focus on the task at hand before new complications arise. Hopefully, with Louise and Gabrielle out of the way, the worst is behind us.”
**************
In the gardens of the estate, Marie-Isabelle de Bordeleaux was practicing one last time the complex fencing sequence she intended to show to Princess Louise. Her moves with the rapier were graceful – and not dissimilar to a musical tempo.
The duelist’s outfit was elegant, befitting a woman of her status. Marie-Isabelle indeed wasn’t your average brutish soldier – she was the second daughter of a prominent aristocratic family. She was clad in brown high boots, light brown fencing trousers, a blue button-up tunic with white wrist cuffs, a dark blue fencing cloak, and a matching dark blue wide-brimmed hat adorned with a light blue ribbon and a night blue fake flower made of silk. The outfit was highlighting her physical features – as she was quite the looker, with a slim body and well-toned legs, wavy locks of strawberry blonde hair tied into a neck bun, sea blue eyes, a healthy light skin slightly tanned by outdoor exercise, and a heart-shaped face.
Marie-Isabelle finished her sequence with a fencer’s salute.
The end of her exercise was met with clapping.
Anne-Félicité de Grande-Butte de Boismortiers and Madeleine-Françoise Gringroire-LeBlanc were women of the lower aristocracy – sycophants with pretentiously long names, trying to rise above their station by riding on the coattails of those of higher status. The former was an auburn-haired woman with a plump waist, round cheeks, and deep green eyes. Her haircut was a plaited braid. She was wearing a deep blue ball gown with golden yellow sleeves and collar over a white satin slip, and black shoes. The latter was brown-haired and brown-eyed, with a tanned skin and square-shaped face. Her slick hair were loose and armpit-long. She was wearing a bright orange long-sleeved aristocratic dress adorned with a black flower pattern, and white collar and wrist cuffs, over a light orange slip. Her shoes were white, and adorned with pearls.
“Magnificent!” Anne-Félicité exclaimed.
“Princess Louise is bound to compliment you on your talent!” her friend added.
Marie Isabelle smiled proudly. She sheathed her blade. “Of course she will. Rapier fencing isn’t some boorish combat style. It’s an art.” She adjusted her fencing cloak to emphasize her point.
Eloise jumped from the bushes in which she was hiding, and whacked the duelist in the back of her head, using a thick stick as a club.
Marie-Isabelle groaned, and fell face first into the grass. Out cold.
Also armed with improvised clubs, Jan and Jill similarly assaulted Marie-Isabelle’s admirers from behind. They sent the two socialites to slumberland with one swift hit each – and giving them a bump in the process.
“Nothing beats a good old wooden club.” Eloise commented to the unconscious duelist as she was throwing the stick away.
She grabbed the rapier-wielding woman by the legs, and dragged her out of sight in the bushes. Jan and Jill did the same with Anne-Félicité and Madeleine-Françoise.
“I call first on the chubby one…” Jan said while dragging the auburn-haired plump girl.
There then were rustles in the leaves, as three limp unconscious bodies were rolled in various directions and stripped of their outer clothes.
**************
A few minutes later, Eloise wrapped a coil of rope around Marie-Isabelle’s wrists, and tightened it. She then did the same with the shoulders. She ignored the unconscious woman’s faint moans of discomfort.
“Hopefully, that’ll teach you a lesson… Real fighters don’t care of elegance, or ‘art’...”
She securely bound the woman’s bare legs together with an other coil, being rough on purpose. This prompted a few more slurred groans.
“… They only care of victory.”
She shoved a thick piece of cloth into Marie-Isabelle’s mouth, and wrapped a second cloth around her mouth and lower head. She knotted the cloth-gag behind the neck to silence the defeated duelist.
“And be thankful I don’t want to get on Louise’s bad side, or else I wouldn’t have bothered keeping you alive.”
Marie-Isabelle, now thoroughly bound and gagged, was left clad in a plain sleeveless blue top made of silk, and matching panties. Eloise checked her ropework. Satisfied, she concluded by giving a harsh slap to Marie-Isabelle’s backside. The unconscious woman moaned in her gag.
Then Eloise slipped into the duelist outfit. Fencing trousers and tunic first. Then the fencing cloak and hat. When she put on the high boots, she smiled harshly to herself. Stripping and trussing up the pampered noblewoman, then donning her fancy outfit, felt really good. It even eased her anger a bit. Eloise wrapped the belt around her waist.
Jill and Jan left their own hiding spot in the bushes. They were now respectively clad in Anne-Félicité’s and Madeleine-Françoise’s outfits. Eloise got a glimpse of the two former owners of the clothes, now concealed bound-and-gagged under the leaves. The auburn-haired Anne-Félicité was clad in a white corset and matching bloomers – both adorned with light pink ribbons; the brown-haired Madeleine-Françoise was clad in a red corset and matching bloomers – both adorned with cloth flowers. Their limbs were tied with ropes, and they were gagged with thick pieces of cloth.
Eloise nodded. She nudged Marie-Isabelle’s cheek with the tip of her foot – once again ignoring the faint moans of the unconscious woman. “Drag this one with the other two.” she instructed. “We’ll regroup with Mathilde’s team.”
Jan and Jill complied. The former took advantage of the task to grope Anne-Félicité’s butt one last time.
“A shame we can’t bring such a booty with us…”
They left Marie-Isabelle and her two admirers lying on the grass, lined up next to each others. They didn’t worry their victims may free themselves – these pampered ladies stood no chance undoing sailor knots.
Then they moved the leaves and branches to conceal the three trussed up half-naked aristocrats.
Once they were sure nobody would find the bound-and-gagged bodies for the next few hours, Eloise adjusted her fencing cloak – perfectly mimicking Marie-Isabelle’s mannerism. “Let’s hurry to regroup with Mathilde. I bet we’ll need to hold her hand during the whole operation.”
**************
Mathilde indeed almost choked when she saw Eloise, Jill, and Jan regroup with her in their stolen disguises.
“Have you lost your mind?! You assaulted guests of Louise! You were supposed to only scout the gardens!”
“I saw an opportunity, and I took it.” Eloise retorted.
“So THIS is why you insisted to grab ropes in the garderners’ annexe!” Mathilde accused. “You have no idea of the scandal this will-”
Eloise roughly interrupted her. “Did you manage to contact Louise?” Her patience was running thin, and she was confident in her intuition.
“Ex- Excuse me?”
“Did. You. Manage. To. Contact. Louise?” Eloise enunciated slowly.
Mathilde lowered her eyes. “She...- didn’t answer the coded note I had sent to her.”
“And Gabrielle?”
“No sign of her either.”
“Now, would Louise ignore such a note from you on this specific night?”
“No.”
“Then what does it mean?”
Mathilde bit her lower lip.
“What does it mean?” Eloise insisted.
“That she’s been taken out… and replaced by an impostor…” Mathilde finally admitted. “But… But how?”
Eloise shrugged. “Heard rumors about the two princess brats and their mother. About their powers to change shape. Looks like they weren’t rumors after all...”
“What do we do? Most red guards don’t know of our existence. They’ll assume we’re bandits if they see us.” Mathilde exclaimed. It had been a basic safety precaution to avoid leaks – there was bound to be at least one spy of Dominique among Louise’s regular guards. But it was now working against them. “We can’t just ask them for help!”
Eloise rolled her eyes. “Shouldn’t the solution be obvious to you now?” She gestured at her stolen garb.
“The scandal-”
Eloise grabbed Mathilde by the shoulders. “Get a hold of yourself, and stop thinking like an aristocrat! Things have already spiraled out of control! We can’t prevent a scandal! Not anymore! The only thing we can do now is try and control the damage! Make sure the proofs – and the witnesses – disappear!”
Mathilde turned to Inej, Blandine, Josyne, Lianor, and Esperança. She was trying to find some support.
But the five women’s faces didn’t betray any emotion – whether refusal or acceptance.
“Fine. We’ll do it your way.” Mathilde finally said.
Eloise grinned. “Splendid! I trust you know the estate’s layout enough to mount an ambush. Jan, Jill, and I will scout ahead.”
**************
Rasha still remembered her life before she became El Idriss’ most elusive thief.
She remembered how she had always resented being poor and small. How she had always looked with envy at all those fat cats in their fancy outfits, with their bellies filled with lokums and other delicious meals.
And she especially remembered how alive she had felt when she had begun to steal the fancy outfits and lokums of these rich bastards who had never paid her so much as a sideways glance...
When you grew up as the seventh and youngest sibling in a poor family of El Idriss, you spent your entire childhood surviving on scraps – and even for those you had to fight your brothers and sisters. However, on the plus side, as a result your body became a lot more resilient.
Apparently, the shapeshifter’s touch was like any other knock-out technique or sleeping drug – some people recovered faster than others from its effects.
Rasha’s body had been hardened by the many beatings she had received from her siblings. Then, during her days as a thief, she had taken many drugs and poisons to build immunity.
When she woke up, bound and gagged on her chair, Rasha immediately realized not much time had passed. She still had a chance. She hadn’t been discovered yet – and therefore, Louise most likely hadn’t been too.
Think fast.
One thing was certain, Rasha refused to be the fall girl. Either she captured Aisha and Yasmin, or she fled the estate to escape the heat.
Rasha wasn’t only a thief – she was also an escape artist. Yasmin’s and Aisha’s ropework was good – but with someone of Rasha’s caliber, ‘good’ wasn’t good enough. Maybe Beatrix would have been able to restrain her properly, but Beatrix hadn’t been there.
It took her some time – hopefully not too much – but twisting and turning her wrists in a specific way allowed her to loosen the rope. She didn’t hesitate to scratch her skin and draw blood. Then, untying herself was a matter of seconds.
Rasha exited the boudoir. The bedroom looked quiet, but if Aisha and Yasmin had managed to get the drop on Louise and Gabrielle, these two were locked somewhere nearby…
Rasha checked the huge wardrobe first. Louise and Gabrielle were indeed inside – trussed up and unconscious. Probably for the best. As expected, the blonde princess was only wearing her underclothes.
“Not as clever as you thought you were…” the thief muttered bitterly.
Rasha contemplated taking Gabrielle’s outfit, but decided against it – Gabrielle was taller and more muscular than her. Plus, her fancy royal bodyguard uniform was a unique piece. Nobody but her wore it.
Problem was, she couldn’t put on Yasmin’s or Aisha’s discarded clothes. These had been cut into makeshift ropes. And she obviously couldn’t walk the corridors in her underwear.
Think fast.
A guard!
There had been a guard in front of the door!
If Yasmin and Aisha had escaped, then they had knocked out and trussed up the guard too! With some luck, they had used the bedding as makeshift ropes, and not the woman’s uniform...
Now, where would they hide a third unconscious body?
Rasha’s eyes fell on the bed. She noticed it was high enough for an adult to fit under it.
The thief closed the wardrobe to conceal Louise and Gabrielle once more.
Then she checked under the bed, and was rewarded by the sight of a ponytailed brown-haired light-skinned woman with a fit body and a tall nose. She was dressed in the uniform of the red guards, trussed up and gagged.
Rasha grabbed the legs of the unconscious woman, and dragged her out.
The black hat with a red feather, white trousers, crimson red tabard with the black seahorse, and white button-up uniform shirt with puffy sleeves were still intact, if a bit ruffled.
Rasha lifted the brunette’s upper-body, and began to untie her – in order to then remove her uniform.
Maybe she should have been gentler when handling the body though. The guard actually began to stir and wake up.
Rasha muttered a curse under her breath. Thinking of a plan, she stopped loosening the ropes and began to untie the cleave-gag.
The brunette woke up with a moan of pain.
“It’s me, Rasha. Don’t struggle. I’m untying you.” she lied as she was removing the piece of cloth.
“Wh- What happened?” the guard, still groggy, mumbled.
“The prisoners knocked you out and escaped.”
As she was talking, Rasha noticed the discarded candelabra on the floor nearby – most likely the tool with which Yasmin and Aisha had knocked the guard out.
The soldier shook her head to recover her spirits. “The brats… What about Princess Louise and Gabrielle?”
“Haven’t found them yet.” Rasha lied. “I suspect they’ve restrained them somewhere, just like you.”
“The two of us can rescue them, and then call the other red guards… A good thing you found me…”
The soldier didn’t see Rasha discreetly grab the discarded candelabra.
“A good thing indeed.” the thief echoed.
Then she conked the woman on the head.
The guard grunted, and went still. She’d have a second bump right next to the first one and most likely a headache waking up, but it was a sacrifice Rasha was willing to make.
Now that the woman was once again unconscious, Rasha finished untying the ropes to have access to her uniform. She stripped the red guard of her clothes and gear. Once the brunette was down to her plain grey undershirt and matching underdrawers, Rasha took the makeshift ropes made of sheet, and bound and gagged the soldier again.
Finally, she carefully rolled the trussed up body back under the bed, and slipped into the red guard uniform.
Adjusting the gloves and boots, Rasha pondered on what to do next.
**************
In the gardens of the main manor, six red guards were patrolling. They were all women.
Princess Louise had a poor opinion of men who weren’t her father or her son. Thus, she refused to have males among the staff of her personal estate. The sole exception she suffered was her main butler, and only because he was her oldest retainer and had been at her service since she was a child.
The red guards tasked with the protection of the First Princess were a prideful bunch. While the United Lands weren’t as patriarchal as the kingdom of Ghazan (or at least Ghazan before King Rashid’s and Queen Yuka’s reforms), its social structure was a lot more rigid. Commoners – especially when female – didn’t have much opportunities to rise above their station. Becoming part of Louise’s red guard was seen as a huge social advancement for a female commoner. Thus, the red guards tended to look down on the rest of the staff, and patrolled with their heads high as if they owned the place.
There wasn’t anyone to show off to in the dark gardens, but the six red-clad soldiers were still swaying their shoulders. Force of habit.
These women were all from the southern realms of the United Lands, and thus shared the physical characteristics of these regions: tanned skin, dark eyes, and brown or black hair. They were wearing the classic uniform of red guards, which was inspired by the musketeer outfit: black hat with a red feather, white trousers, crimson red tabard with a black seahorse, and white button-up uniform shirt with puffy sleeves. They were armed with rapiers and pistols, and were carrying lanterns. Their haircuts were tight neck-buns or tight ponytails.
The patrol turned around a hedge to check a small garden full of sculptures, fountains, and flower bushes.
Some odd noises were suddenly heard. Ones that didn’t come from the nocturnal birds and insects.
Yelps, groans, and faint scuffles. Punches, and kicks. High-pitched squeaks. And also the occasional muffled plea.
Then there were only the usual sounds of the night once more.
That was, except for the rustle of uniforms being removed, of motionless bodies being rolled on the grass, and of ropes being tied up around exposed flesh.
Mathilde emerged from a bush, now dressed in the uniform, hat, and gear of a red guard. She sighed.
Inej, Blandine, Josyne, Lianor, and Esperança followed her. Also exiting the cover of some bushes, also dressed as red guards. The five women didn’t show any emotion.
“We move.” Mathilde instructed.
They left behind six unconscious women hidden under the bushes, stripped down to their plain grey knee-long undershorts and matching grey sleeveless undershirts, hog-tied with ropes, and gagged with torn strips of cloth.
**************
The annexe of Louise’s palace, in which Aisha’s and Yasmin’s retinue was held captive, was pretty much a separate little estate with its own manor, garden and grove of trees. It was a retreat, in which Louise went to rest when she wanted some time away from the court.
Coincidentally, its remoteness made it perfect to lock a few hostages.
Unfortunately, it also made it easier to infiltrate.
From afar, under the cover of the trees, Aisha, Zaïde, Beatrix, and Ezgi were watching a patrol.
“Careful.” Zaïde warned her companions. “These are landsknechts.”
The landsknechts were independent mercenary companies hailing from the kingdom of Barak. Several had been incorporated in the High King’s personal guard. And one was under the direct authority of Louise. The elder princess had only one request – she wanted all her bodyguards to be women.
Landsknechts were easily recognizable thanks to their unique and colorful outfits. They wore shiny brown leather high boots. Their uniform trousers were baggy, scarlet red and bright orange, and vertically striped. Their uniform tunics were matching red-and-orange, with puffy sleeves. On their heads, they wore red-and-orange striped tellerbarrets with black feathers.
These mercenaries were renowned for their fierceness and rapacious nature. Their sight was the terror of any village and city under siege, as they were known for ransacking any place they helped conquer.
“Bad news.” Zaïde added. “I was hoping the place was watched by regular red guards. We could’ve kept our current disguises. Now, we’ll need a change of uniforms.”
Fortunately, landsknechts also had one flaw. Since they were the heirs of a long-standing mercenary tradition, they had a tendency to be quite rowdy and often played loose with the rules.
Therefore, when one sentry of the patrolling duo Zaïde, Beatrix, Aisha, and Yasmin were stalking interrupted her and her partner’s patrol to go relieve herself in some bushes, the busty noblewoman knew she had an opportunity.
She made a few hand signs to tell her companions to stay quiet, while she discreetly approached her target.
Zaïde approached the landsknecht from behind.
The sentry was fit, with well-toned muscles, and greasy neck-long light brown hair. Her face was heart-shaped and she had chestnut brown eyes.
Zaïde waited until the girl had finished her business, and was pulling back her underdrawers and trousers. She attacked as the landsknecht was buckling her belt. She wrapped snake-like arms around the brunette’s slender neck, and tightened a vicious sleeper-hold.
The brown-haired mercenary gasped, but her faint gurgles didn’t reach her partner’s ear. Zaïde used her legs to unbalance the woman, and prevented her from struggling free. The landsknecht bucked madly, and almost managed to free herself through sheer strength, but Zaïde held firm. After one last desperate jerk, the lack of oxygen got the better of the sentry. Her body relaxed as she was exhaling a soft moan. Her eyes rolled back and her head lolled to the side. She went limp in Zaïde’s arms, out cold.
The second patrolling sentry was a green-eyed redhead with sharp facial features, a slim figure, and wild spiky hair that reached down to her shoulders. Oblivious to her partner’s distress, she tapped her foot and complained: “Gretchen, beeil dich!”
Zaïde nodded at Beatrix. The bounty huntress aimed her jezail.
The red-haired landsknecht lost patience. She observed the bushes, trying to locate her partner. “Gretchen! Mach schneller! Elsebeth bringt uns um!”
Beatrix shot her right in the forehead with a blue ray. The red-haired mercenary’s eyes widened, and her mouth opened slightly. Then her eyes rolled back, a faint moan escaped her lips. She fell on her knees, then collapsed face down and bum up onto the grass. Out cold.
Beatrix grabbed her under-shoulders and dragged her out of sight in the bushes in which Zaïde was hiding with the unconscious Gretchen.
Under the cover of the leaves, they removed the two mercenaries’ gear, boots, and colorful uniforms.
Gretchen – the brunette – was left clad in grease-stained grey underdrawers and a matching equally dirty sleeveless top. Her red-haired partner’s undergarments were a faded shade of green – form-hugging bloomers and a brassiere. They didn’t have stains, but judging by the smell they’d been worn without interruption for several days.
Zaïde frowned her nose, looked at the discarded uniforms, pondered how dirty and sweaty they truly were, and sighed.
“Someone is coming.” Aisha suddenly warned her friends in a whisper.
They heard a woman call: “Gretchen. Margrit. Wo seid ihr? Elsebeth ist schlecht gelaunt. Sie wird ihr bestrafen, wenn ihr nachlasst!”
She was an other landsknecht – a tall leggy blue-eyed blonde with slick shoulder-long hair, a fit figure, thick thighs, a shapely bottom, and a round-shaped face, whose skin was a bit tanned due to many outside patrols.
She didn’t sound alarmed – thankfully. She probably thought her friends were taking a break.
The mercenary passed right next to the bushes in which Beatrix, Zaïde, Aisha, and Ezgi were hiding with their two victims.
“Gretchen? Margrit? Hörst du mich?”
This time, she was beginning to sound suspicious.
Beatrix didn’t give the blonde any chance.
She jumped out of her hiding spot, and brutally hit the landsknecht in the stomach with the butt of her jezail. The blonde’s breath was cut. The wind knocked out of her, she coughed and wheezed, and fell on her knees. Beatrix hit the gasping woman’s neck with the butt of her jezail, knocking her out instantly. The blonde’s body fell onto the ground, and went still. Then, Beatrix aimed at her head, and shot a blue ray to make sure she’d stay put for a while. The mercenary had a brief spasm, and went still.
Aisha grimaced.
“What? She’ll live.” Beatrix retorted.
She dragged the blonde by the legs, and left her next to the other two unconscious sentries.
“Aisha. You will take her clothes.” Zaïde told her cousin.
“What do we do about me?” Ezgi asked.
“You can’t impersonate a landsknecht. We’ll have to find a servant.”
Once Aisha was done with stripping the mercenary, the blond landsknecht was left clad in surprisingly clean (at least compared to her comrades) plain brown undertrousers and brassiere.
They didn’t take any chance with the three unconscious sentries. They cut their current disguises into strips, and bound the women thoroughly with these makeshift ropes. They restrained each sentry to one tree, tying the wrists behind the trunk, then restraining the waists to the trunk. They also bound the legs and thighs, to make struggles harder. They took the time to tightly gag and blindfold the captives as well.
Then Beatrix put on the uniform of the red-haired landsknecht while Zaïde slipped into the brunette’s, and Aisha took the blonde’s.
“How long do you think we have before their captain gets suspicious?” Zaïde asked Beatrix.
“She’s probably already noticed something was off in the patrol pattern.” the red-haired former soldier replied. “You better start with her.”
“Then let’s go.”
**************
If you need to refresh your memories, the descriptions of the main characters are in the pilot.
viewtopic.php?t=9225
Eloise, Mathilde, Jan, and Jill are described in various parts of chapter 4.
viewtopic.php?t=9607
The rest of Mathilde's and Eloise's team is described in the epilogue of chapter 5.
viewtopic.php?p=33684&hilit=inej#p33684
And of course you may need to quickly re-check the last part of the previous chapter to understand the plot:
viewtopic.php?t=10990
**************
**************
“Dominique described me the estate.” Zaïde explained to Aisha, Beatrix, and Ezgi. “Our friends are kept far away from the main palace, in an annex building south-west of the domain. The guards and staff watching them have been chosen among Louise’s most loyal people. We’ll probably have to neutralize them.”
“Or we could kill two birds with one stone. Our friends will all need disguises.” Aisha added.
“Swell. It’s not like they outnumber us ten to one.” Beatrix grumbled.
Zaïde shrugged. “Eh. More like seven to one actually. They’re about thirty – servants included. I’m pretty sure you had worst odds during the war.”
The redhead glared at her. “Actually no. Because the king wasn’t stupid.”
Zaïde ignored the insult. “Louise and Gabrielle are both neutralized, Yasmin and Dominique will make sure nobody at the party gets suspicious, and we have the element of surprise, these are our biggest assets.”
“And Rasha?” Beatrix asked.
“We locked her behind. She'll take the fall.”
Beatrix’s face didn’t flinch.
Aisha glanced at her. “You don’t seem very torn up about her betrayal.”
“Do you blame a scorpion for stinging? A snake for biting?” the redhead retorted. “Rasha is only concerned with herself. It’s her nature. I don’t hold it against her. I never had any illusion about our partnership.”
Aisha took the silent accusation in stride – she indeed was the only one who had made the mistake of thinking Rasha was more than what she truly was.
“We’ll have the time to point fingers after we’ve rescued everyone and fled to Dominique’s estate.” Zaïde interrupted them. “For now, let’s focus on the task at hand before new complications arise. Hopefully, with Louise and Gabrielle out of the way, the worst is behind us.”
**************
In the gardens of the estate, Marie-Isabelle de Bordeleaux was practicing one last time the complex fencing sequence she intended to show to Princess Louise. Her moves with the rapier were graceful – and not dissimilar to a musical tempo.
The duelist’s outfit was elegant, befitting a woman of her status. Marie-Isabelle indeed wasn’t your average brutish soldier – she was the second daughter of a prominent aristocratic family. She was clad in brown high boots, light brown fencing trousers, a blue button-up tunic with white wrist cuffs, a dark blue fencing cloak, and a matching dark blue wide-brimmed hat adorned with a light blue ribbon and a night blue fake flower made of silk. The outfit was highlighting her physical features – as she was quite the looker, with a slim body and well-toned legs, wavy locks of strawberry blonde hair tied into a neck bun, sea blue eyes, a healthy light skin slightly tanned by outdoor exercise, and a heart-shaped face.
Marie-Isabelle finished her sequence with a fencer’s salute.
The end of her exercise was met with clapping.
Anne-Félicité de Grande-Butte de Boismortiers and Madeleine-Françoise Gringroire-LeBlanc were women of the lower aristocracy – sycophants with pretentiously long names, trying to rise above their station by riding on the coattails of those of higher status. The former was an auburn-haired woman with a plump waist, round cheeks, and deep green eyes. Her haircut was a plaited braid. She was wearing a deep blue ball gown with golden yellow sleeves and collar over a white satin slip, and black shoes. The latter was brown-haired and brown-eyed, with a tanned skin and square-shaped face. Her slick hair were loose and armpit-long. She was wearing a bright orange long-sleeved aristocratic dress adorned with a black flower pattern, and white collar and wrist cuffs, over a light orange slip. Her shoes were white, and adorned with pearls.
“Magnificent!” Anne-Félicité exclaimed.
“Princess Louise is bound to compliment you on your talent!” her friend added.
Marie Isabelle smiled proudly. She sheathed her blade. “Of course she will. Rapier fencing isn’t some boorish combat style. It’s an art.” She adjusted her fencing cloak to emphasize her point.
Eloise jumped from the bushes in which she was hiding, and whacked the duelist in the back of her head, using a thick stick as a club.
Marie-Isabelle groaned, and fell face first into the grass. Out cold.
Also armed with improvised clubs, Jan and Jill similarly assaulted Marie-Isabelle’s admirers from behind. They sent the two socialites to slumberland with one swift hit each – and giving them a bump in the process.
“Nothing beats a good old wooden club.” Eloise commented to the unconscious duelist as she was throwing the stick away.
She grabbed the rapier-wielding woman by the legs, and dragged her out of sight in the bushes. Jan and Jill did the same with Anne-Félicité and Madeleine-Françoise.
“I call first on the chubby one…” Jan said while dragging the auburn-haired plump girl.
There then were rustles in the leaves, as three limp unconscious bodies were rolled in various directions and stripped of their outer clothes.
**************
A few minutes later, Eloise wrapped a coil of rope around Marie-Isabelle’s wrists, and tightened it. She then did the same with the shoulders. She ignored the unconscious woman’s faint moans of discomfort.
“Hopefully, that’ll teach you a lesson… Real fighters don’t care of elegance, or ‘art’...”
She securely bound the woman’s bare legs together with an other coil, being rough on purpose. This prompted a few more slurred groans.
“… They only care of victory.”
She shoved a thick piece of cloth into Marie-Isabelle’s mouth, and wrapped a second cloth around her mouth and lower head. She knotted the cloth-gag behind the neck to silence the defeated duelist.
“And be thankful I don’t want to get on Louise’s bad side, or else I wouldn’t have bothered keeping you alive.”
Marie-Isabelle, now thoroughly bound and gagged, was left clad in a plain sleeveless blue top made of silk, and matching panties. Eloise checked her ropework. Satisfied, she concluded by giving a harsh slap to Marie-Isabelle’s backside. The unconscious woman moaned in her gag.
Then Eloise slipped into the duelist outfit. Fencing trousers and tunic first. Then the fencing cloak and hat. When she put on the high boots, she smiled harshly to herself. Stripping and trussing up the pampered noblewoman, then donning her fancy outfit, felt really good. It even eased her anger a bit. Eloise wrapped the belt around her waist.
Jill and Jan left their own hiding spot in the bushes. They were now respectively clad in Anne-Félicité’s and Madeleine-Françoise’s outfits. Eloise got a glimpse of the two former owners of the clothes, now concealed bound-and-gagged under the leaves. The auburn-haired Anne-Félicité was clad in a white corset and matching bloomers – both adorned with light pink ribbons; the brown-haired Madeleine-Françoise was clad in a red corset and matching bloomers – both adorned with cloth flowers. Their limbs were tied with ropes, and they were gagged with thick pieces of cloth.
Eloise nodded. She nudged Marie-Isabelle’s cheek with the tip of her foot – once again ignoring the faint moans of the unconscious woman. “Drag this one with the other two.” she instructed. “We’ll regroup with Mathilde’s team.”
Jan and Jill complied. The former took advantage of the task to grope Anne-Félicité’s butt one last time.
“A shame we can’t bring such a booty with us…”
They left Marie-Isabelle and her two admirers lying on the grass, lined up next to each others. They didn’t worry their victims may free themselves – these pampered ladies stood no chance undoing sailor knots.
Then they moved the leaves and branches to conceal the three trussed up half-naked aristocrats.
Once they were sure nobody would find the bound-and-gagged bodies for the next few hours, Eloise adjusted her fencing cloak – perfectly mimicking Marie-Isabelle’s mannerism. “Let’s hurry to regroup with Mathilde. I bet we’ll need to hold her hand during the whole operation.”
**************
Mathilde indeed almost choked when she saw Eloise, Jill, and Jan regroup with her in their stolen disguises.
“Have you lost your mind?! You assaulted guests of Louise! You were supposed to only scout the gardens!”
“I saw an opportunity, and I took it.” Eloise retorted.
“So THIS is why you insisted to grab ropes in the garderners’ annexe!” Mathilde accused. “You have no idea of the scandal this will-”
Eloise roughly interrupted her. “Did you manage to contact Louise?” Her patience was running thin, and she was confident in her intuition.
“Ex- Excuse me?”
“Did. You. Manage. To. Contact. Louise?” Eloise enunciated slowly.
Mathilde lowered her eyes. “She...- didn’t answer the coded note I had sent to her.”
“And Gabrielle?”
“No sign of her either.”
“Now, would Louise ignore such a note from you on this specific night?”
“No.”
“Then what does it mean?”
Mathilde bit her lower lip.
“What does it mean?” Eloise insisted.
“That she’s been taken out… and replaced by an impostor…” Mathilde finally admitted. “But… But how?”
Eloise shrugged. “Heard rumors about the two princess brats and their mother. About their powers to change shape. Looks like they weren’t rumors after all...”
“What do we do? Most red guards don’t know of our existence. They’ll assume we’re bandits if they see us.” Mathilde exclaimed. It had been a basic safety precaution to avoid leaks – there was bound to be at least one spy of Dominique among Louise’s regular guards. But it was now working against them. “We can’t just ask them for help!”
Eloise rolled her eyes. “Shouldn’t the solution be obvious to you now?” She gestured at her stolen garb.
“The scandal-”
Eloise grabbed Mathilde by the shoulders. “Get a hold of yourself, and stop thinking like an aristocrat! Things have already spiraled out of control! We can’t prevent a scandal! Not anymore! The only thing we can do now is try and control the damage! Make sure the proofs – and the witnesses – disappear!”
Mathilde turned to Inej, Blandine, Josyne, Lianor, and Esperança. She was trying to find some support.
But the five women’s faces didn’t betray any emotion – whether refusal or acceptance.
“Fine. We’ll do it your way.” Mathilde finally said.
Eloise grinned. “Splendid! I trust you know the estate’s layout enough to mount an ambush. Jan, Jill, and I will scout ahead.”
**************
Rasha still remembered her life before she became El Idriss’ most elusive thief.
She remembered how she had always resented being poor and small. How she had always looked with envy at all those fat cats in their fancy outfits, with their bellies filled with lokums and other delicious meals.
And she especially remembered how alive she had felt when she had begun to steal the fancy outfits and lokums of these rich bastards who had never paid her so much as a sideways glance...
When you grew up as the seventh and youngest sibling in a poor family of El Idriss, you spent your entire childhood surviving on scraps – and even for those you had to fight your brothers and sisters. However, on the plus side, as a result your body became a lot more resilient.
Apparently, the shapeshifter’s touch was like any other knock-out technique or sleeping drug – some people recovered faster than others from its effects.
Rasha’s body had been hardened by the many beatings she had received from her siblings. Then, during her days as a thief, she had taken many drugs and poisons to build immunity.
When she woke up, bound and gagged on her chair, Rasha immediately realized not much time had passed. She still had a chance. She hadn’t been discovered yet – and therefore, Louise most likely hadn’t been too.
Think fast.
One thing was certain, Rasha refused to be the fall girl. Either she captured Aisha and Yasmin, or she fled the estate to escape the heat.
Rasha wasn’t only a thief – she was also an escape artist. Yasmin’s and Aisha’s ropework was good – but with someone of Rasha’s caliber, ‘good’ wasn’t good enough. Maybe Beatrix would have been able to restrain her properly, but Beatrix hadn’t been there.
It took her some time – hopefully not too much – but twisting and turning her wrists in a specific way allowed her to loosen the rope. She didn’t hesitate to scratch her skin and draw blood. Then, untying herself was a matter of seconds.
Rasha exited the boudoir. The bedroom looked quiet, but if Aisha and Yasmin had managed to get the drop on Louise and Gabrielle, these two were locked somewhere nearby…
Rasha checked the huge wardrobe first. Louise and Gabrielle were indeed inside – trussed up and unconscious. Probably for the best. As expected, the blonde princess was only wearing her underclothes.
“Not as clever as you thought you were…” the thief muttered bitterly.
Rasha contemplated taking Gabrielle’s outfit, but decided against it – Gabrielle was taller and more muscular than her. Plus, her fancy royal bodyguard uniform was a unique piece. Nobody but her wore it.
Problem was, she couldn’t put on Yasmin’s or Aisha’s discarded clothes. These had been cut into makeshift ropes. And she obviously couldn’t walk the corridors in her underwear.
Think fast.
A guard!
There had been a guard in front of the door!
If Yasmin and Aisha had escaped, then they had knocked out and trussed up the guard too! With some luck, they had used the bedding as makeshift ropes, and not the woman’s uniform...
Now, where would they hide a third unconscious body?
Rasha’s eyes fell on the bed. She noticed it was high enough for an adult to fit under it.
The thief closed the wardrobe to conceal Louise and Gabrielle once more.
Then she checked under the bed, and was rewarded by the sight of a ponytailed brown-haired light-skinned woman with a fit body and a tall nose. She was dressed in the uniform of the red guards, trussed up and gagged.
Rasha grabbed the legs of the unconscious woman, and dragged her out.
The black hat with a red feather, white trousers, crimson red tabard with the black seahorse, and white button-up uniform shirt with puffy sleeves were still intact, if a bit ruffled.
Rasha lifted the brunette’s upper-body, and began to untie her – in order to then remove her uniform.
Maybe she should have been gentler when handling the body though. The guard actually began to stir and wake up.
Rasha muttered a curse under her breath. Thinking of a plan, she stopped loosening the ropes and began to untie the cleave-gag.
The brunette woke up with a moan of pain.
“It’s me, Rasha. Don’t struggle. I’m untying you.” she lied as she was removing the piece of cloth.
“Wh- What happened?” the guard, still groggy, mumbled.
“The prisoners knocked you out and escaped.”
As she was talking, Rasha noticed the discarded candelabra on the floor nearby – most likely the tool with which Yasmin and Aisha had knocked the guard out.
The soldier shook her head to recover her spirits. “The brats… What about Princess Louise and Gabrielle?”
“Haven’t found them yet.” Rasha lied. “I suspect they’ve restrained them somewhere, just like you.”
“The two of us can rescue them, and then call the other red guards… A good thing you found me…”
The soldier didn’t see Rasha discreetly grab the discarded candelabra.
“A good thing indeed.” the thief echoed.
Then she conked the woman on the head.
The guard grunted, and went still. She’d have a second bump right next to the first one and most likely a headache waking up, but it was a sacrifice Rasha was willing to make.
Now that the woman was once again unconscious, Rasha finished untying the ropes to have access to her uniform. She stripped the red guard of her clothes and gear. Once the brunette was down to her plain grey undershirt and matching underdrawers, Rasha took the makeshift ropes made of sheet, and bound and gagged the soldier again.
Finally, she carefully rolled the trussed up body back under the bed, and slipped into the red guard uniform.
Adjusting the gloves and boots, Rasha pondered on what to do next.
**************
In the gardens of the main manor, six red guards were patrolling. They were all women.
Princess Louise had a poor opinion of men who weren’t her father or her son. Thus, she refused to have males among the staff of her personal estate. The sole exception she suffered was her main butler, and only because he was her oldest retainer and had been at her service since she was a child.
The red guards tasked with the protection of the First Princess were a prideful bunch. While the United Lands weren’t as patriarchal as the kingdom of Ghazan (or at least Ghazan before King Rashid’s and Queen Yuka’s reforms), its social structure was a lot more rigid. Commoners – especially when female – didn’t have much opportunities to rise above their station. Becoming part of Louise’s red guard was seen as a huge social advancement for a female commoner. Thus, the red guards tended to look down on the rest of the staff, and patrolled with their heads high as if they owned the place.
There wasn’t anyone to show off to in the dark gardens, but the six red-clad soldiers were still swaying their shoulders. Force of habit.
These women were all from the southern realms of the United Lands, and thus shared the physical characteristics of these regions: tanned skin, dark eyes, and brown or black hair. They were wearing the classic uniform of red guards, which was inspired by the musketeer outfit: black hat with a red feather, white trousers, crimson red tabard with a black seahorse, and white button-up uniform shirt with puffy sleeves. They were armed with rapiers and pistols, and were carrying lanterns. Their haircuts were tight neck-buns or tight ponytails.
The patrol turned around a hedge to check a small garden full of sculptures, fountains, and flower bushes.
Some odd noises were suddenly heard. Ones that didn’t come from the nocturnal birds and insects.
Yelps, groans, and faint scuffles. Punches, and kicks. High-pitched squeaks. And also the occasional muffled plea.
Then there were only the usual sounds of the night once more.
That was, except for the rustle of uniforms being removed, of motionless bodies being rolled on the grass, and of ropes being tied up around exposed flesh.
Mathilde emerged from a bush, now dressed in the uniform, hat, and gear of a red guard. She sighed.
Inej, Blandine, Josyne, Lianor, and Esperança followed her. Also exiting the cover of some bushes, also dressed as red guards. The five women didn’t show any emotion.
“We move.” Mathilde instructed.
They left behind six unconscious women hidden under the bushes, stripped down to their plain grey knee-long undershorts and matching grey sleeveless undershirts, hog-tied with ropes, and gagged with torn strips of cloth.
**************
The annexe of Louise’s palace, in which Aisha’s and Yasmin’s retinue was held captive, was pretty much a separate little estate with its own manor, garden and grove of trees. It was a retreat, in which Louise went to rest when she wanted some time away from the court.
Coincidentally, its remoteness made it perfect to lock a few hostages.
Unfortunately, it also made it easier to infiltrate.
From afar, under the cover of the trees, Aisha, Zaïde, Beatrix, and Ezgi were watching a patrol.
“Careful.” Zaïde warned her companions. “These are landsknechts.”
The landsknechts were independent mercenary companies hailing from the kingdom of Barak. Several had been incorporated in the High King’s personal guard. And one was under the direct authority of Louise. The elder princess had only one request – she wanted all her bodyguards to be women.
Landsknechts were easily recognizable thanks to their unique and colorful outfits. They wore shiny brown leather high boots. Their uniform trousers were baggy, scarlet red and bright orange, and vertically striped. Their uniform tunics were matching red-and-orange, with puffy sleeves. On their heads, they wore red-and-orange striped tellerbarrets with black feathers.
These mercenaries were renowned for their fierceness and rapacious nature. Their sight was the terror of any village and city under siege, as they were known for ransacking any place they helped conquer.
“Bad news.” Zaïde added. “I was hoping the place was watched by regular red guards. We could’ve kept our current disguises. Now, we’ll need a change of uniforms.”
Fortunately, landsknechts also had one flaw. Since they were the heirs of a long-standing mercenary tradition, they had a tendency to be quite rowdy and often played loose with the rules.
Therefore, when one sentry of the patrolling duo Zaïde, Beatrix, Aisha, and Yasmin were stalking interrupted her and her partner’s patrol to go relieve herself in some bushes, the busty noblewoman knew she had an opportunity.
She made a few hand signs to tell her companions to stay quiet, while she discreetly approached her target.
Zaïde approached the landsknecht from behind.
The sentry was fit, with well-toned muscles, and greasy neck-long light brown hair. Her face was heart-shaped and she had chestnut brown eyes.
Zaïde waited until the girl had finished her business, and was pulling back her underdrawers and trousers. She attacked as the landsknecht was buckling her belt. She wrapped snake-like arms around the brunette’s slender neck, and tightened a vicious sleeper-hold.
The brown-haired mercenary gasped, but her faint gurgles didn’t reach her partner’s ear. Zaïde used her legs to unbalance the woman, and prevented her from struggling free. The landsknecht bucked madly, and almost managed to free herself through sheer strength, but Zaïde held firm. After one last desperate jerk, the lack of oxygen got the better of the sentry. Her body relaxed as she was exhaling a soft moan. Her eyes rolled back and her head lolled to the side. She went limp in Zaïde’s arms, out cold.
The second patrolling sentry was a green-eyed redhead with sharp facial features, a slim figure, and wild spiky hair that reached down to her shoulders. Oblivious to her partner’s distress, she tapped her foot and complained: “Gretchen, beeil dich!”
Zaïde nodded at Beatrix. The bounty huntress aimed her jezail.
The red-haired landsknecht lost patience. She observed the bushes, trying to locate her partner. “Gretchen! Mach schneller! Elsebeth bringt uns um!”
Beatrix shot her right in the forehead with a blue ray. The red-haired mercenary’s eyes widened, and her mouth opened slightly. Then her eyes rolled back, a faint moan escaped her lips. She fell on her knees, then collapsed face down and bum up onto the grass. Out cold.
Beatrix grabbed her under-shoulders and dragged her out of sight in the bushes in which Zaïde was hiding with the unconscious Gretchen.
Under the cover of the leaves, they removed the two mercenaries’ gear, boots, and colorful uniforms.
Gretchen – the brunette – was left clad in grease-stained grey underdrawers and a matching equally dirty sleeveless top. Her red-haired partner’s undergarments were a faded shade of green – form-hugging bloomers and a brassiere. They didn’t have stains, but judging by the smell they’d been worn without interruption for several days.
Zaïde frowned her nose, looked at the discarded uniforms, pondered how dirty and sweaty they truly were, and sighed.
“Someone is coming.” Aisha suddenly warned her friends in a whisper.
They heard a woman call: “Gretchen. Margrit. Wo seid ihr? Elsebeth ist schlecht gelaunt. Sie wird ihr bestrafen, wenn ihr nachlasst!”
She was an other landsknecht – a tall leggy blue-eyed blonde with slick shoulder-long hair, a fit figure, thick thighs, a shapely bottom, and a round-shaped face, whose skin was a bit tanned due to many outside patrols.
She didn’t sound alarmed – thankfully. She probably thought her friends were taking a break.
The mercenary passed right next to the bushes in which Beatrix, Zaïde, Aisha, and Ezgi were hiding with their two victims.
“Gretchen? Margrit? Hörst du mich?”
This time, she was beginning to sound suspicious.
Beatrix didn’t give the blonde any chance.
She jumped out of her hiding spot, and brutally hit the landsknecht in the stomach with the butt of her jezail. The blonde’s breath was cut. The wind knocked out of her, she coughed and wheezed, and fell on her knees. Beatrix hit the gasping woman’s neck with the butt of her jezail, knocking her out instantly. The blonde’s body fell onto the ground, and went still. Then, Beatrix aimed at her head, and shot a blue ray to make sure she’d stay put for a while. The mercenary had a brief spasm, and went still.
Aisha grimaced.
“What? She’ll live.” Beatrix retorted.
She dragged the blonde by the legs, and left her next to the other two unconscious sentries.
“Aisha. You will take her clothes.” Zaïde told her cousin.
“What do we do about me?” Ezgi asked.
“You can’t impersonate a landsknecht. We’ll have to find a servant.”
Once Aisha was done with stripping the mercenary, the blond landsknecht was left clad in surprisingly clean (at least compared to her comrades) plain brown undertrousers and brassiere.
They didn’t take any chance with the three unconscious sentries. They cut their current disguises into strips, and bound the women thoroughly with these makeshift ropes. They restrained each sentry to one tree, tying the wrists behind the trunk, then restraining the waists to the trunk. They also bound the legs and thighs, to make struggles harder. They took the time to tightly gag and blindfold the captives as well.
Then Beatrix put on the uniform of the red-haired landsknecht while Zaïde slipped into the brunette’s, and Aisha took the blonde’s.
“How long do you think we have before their captain gets suspicious?” Zaïde asked Beatrix.
“She’s probably already noticed something was off in the patrol pattern.” the red-haired former soldier replied. “You better start with her.”
“Then let’s go.”
)