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 he chest was made of solid gold.
They were all momentarily speechless in their surprise. As one body, the adventurers stepped toward the pedestal, but maintained a respectable distance. Gladstone joined them to appraise his handiwork.
M’Ladyhawke’s jade-spoked eyes widened with astonishment. She nervously pushed golden hair away from her face and swallowed hard. Slowly, she stretched her hand towards the shining metal chest. She caressed its surface, her fingers dancing lightly over the jewels encrusted upon it.
“Surely, this box of gold is worthy to hold an ancient artifact such as the Ankh,” she concluded. Her voice was a whisper. “Mobius…”
“Here,” the thief said, stepping forth from the group. “Allow me, M’Lady.” He pulled out a set of lockpicks, and everyone held their breath until they heard a small “click” as the chambers within the lock met and released. Mobius backed away, slowly, until he was in the shelter of the red dragon’s body.
M’Ladyhawke opened the box. It opened smoothly, without a sign of rust or age.
The Ankh lay inside, upon a cushion of blue velvet. Its ancient beauty took her breath away. It was made of untarnished bronze: two straight, flat bars crossed as a “T”, with a flat loop of metal projecting from the top. It was covered in glyphs and runes, and a rare, vermilion oval-cut topaz was set inside the loop.
“Here it is!” she cried triumphantly, and took the Ankh in her hand and pulled it free from the chest. But as she did, they heard a noise like the ring of a gong echo through the chamber. M’Ladyhawke backed slowly away from the box, and looked up at the ceiling guiltily.
“Uh oh…,” she said.
From within the box, a pink mist accompanied by a sudden flash of crystal sparkle snaked silkily onto the floor. M’Ladyhawke watched curiously, still clutching the Ankh, more fascinated than frightened. The dragon rumbled uncomfortably as it detected an activation of ancient magic.
The curling mist from the box poured onto the floor in front of the pedestal, and materialized into something more… something became solid before their eyes… something slender and willowy…
All twelve of them gaped as a finely sculpted woman appeared before them. She was draped in a simple, snow-white gown, which clung to her waist and fell softly to her sandal-shod feet. The gossamer fabric revealed rounded breasts and slim shoulders. A slit in the side of her skirt exposed one long, graceful leg. The lady was delicate and ethereal, as something from an artist’s dream. Her hair was honey colored, like strands of lustrous glass piled atop her head, held in place with a sparkling diamond tiara. Loose tendrils of hair softened her perfect face, which held the innocence of the ages displayed in a pretty Grecian nose and rounded blue eyes even darker than the sapphires that adorned her neck, throat, wrists and ears.
She looked around dazedly, gathering her bearings. And presently, she spoke.
“How long have I been asleep?” she asked in a voice that rang like silver bells. But then she seemed to feel faint, and put the back of a soft, alabaster hand to her forehead and her knees trembled ever so slightly…
And nine pairs of hands rushed to catch her before she fell. Male hands.
M’Ladyhawke, Shahrressa and Kedra watched in amazement as the men began falling over themselves to help the maiden. Offers of water and food came at her from all directions. Keith chanted softly and produced a melon from out of the air around them, magical fruit that was unsurpassed in its perfection. Unsurpassed, that is, except by the beauty of the woman that even now lay cradled in Gladstone’s lap. He handed it to Orange.
Orange pulled a knife from his boot and split the melon in half. “Eat, My Lady,” he begged, placing the fruit gently into her hands, “and then tell us how you came to be trapped…”
Arana interrupted him. “First, tell us your name, M’Lady,” he asked her. “Please, I cannot bear not to know it.”
The maiden seemed not at all overwhelmed by their attentions and indeed, seemed to enjoy it. “My name is Catalunya,” she told them. “Princess of Isle. How I came to be entrapped, I am afraid I don’t remember… but it has been ages upon ages that I have been inside that prison.”
Freestander and Shogun helped her to her feet again. “Poor lady,” Freestander said in sympathy. “Why would anyone wish to harm such a beauty as yourself?”
“I.. I don’t know,” she said, her voice seemingly helpless, and tears glistened on her pale, heart-shaped face.
“Oh by Haven, spare me the dramatics,” M’Ladyhawke murmured wryly to Kedra and Shahrressa. “I can give you some reasons…”
“Please don’t let them put me back inside,” Catalunya pleaded with the men, and her eyes turned into two limpid pools of water. “Please.”
Arana and Gladstone puffed out their chests. “Do not dream of such a thing, M’Lady,” Arana reassured her. Gladstone added, “Anyone wishing t’ harm a hair on yer head will answer t’ me personally.”
Catalunya smiled joyfully at this and allowed them to lead her to a marble bench that graced the main entrance to the chamber. The men showered her with attention, introducing themselves with much bravado.
“Thank you all for freeing me,” Catalunya continued in an infinitely compassionate tone. “You are all so brave and true, and such bravery shall be rewarded.” She kissed them each in turn, a soft press of her full, rounded lips on each of their foreheads, even filthy little Raggot, who blushed immediately.
The three other women in the room were ignored totally, as if they were not present, by all of the men and the lady alike.
Kedra began to suspect that Catalunya’s wide-eyed innocence was merely a smoke screen for something more sinister. “No mere ‘woman’s magic’ is this strong,” she mentioned to Shahrressa and M’Ladyhawke in a low voice. “Not even a woman as beautiful as this. Look at them fawning on her.”
Shahrressa made a face of disgust. “Oh, that simpering! You would think she was the most helpless maiden in the universe, and they are falling for it!”
“And such golden tongues, all of a sudden!” M’Ladyhawke noted with a worried tone. “Do you hear them? It is as if they are under some sort of enchantment…”
Her statement rang true with all three women. They were stunned as they concluded that was exactly what had happened. But the horror of their discovery was overshadowed when they heard what Catalunya said next.
“… and so shall I be released from my prison,” she was telling the men, producing a small, flat wooden box that suddenly appeared in her hand. Upon opening its cover, it revealed a dozen small truffles. Everyone in the room was suddenly reminded that they were quite hungry, although they could not seem to remember how much time had passed since they traveled through the oaken doors or down the dirt-packed tunnel.
“Gladstone, Arana… all of you,” she asked them. “Will you help me? For I may be free of the cursed box, but I still am bound to this room unless..."
She trailed off purposefully and the men murmured, “Yes, Milady.. anything, just tell us…”
Catalunya smiled. “Why, it is the easiest task you will ever perform. All you need do is take one of these truffles, made by my own hands. Eat of them, and I will be released from the spell that binds me. But take heed! You must all eat of it at once, yes, all of you. If just one of you hesitates, you will all perish and I… “ she paused while she smothered a sob, and Orange immediately handed her an ornate handkerchief. “…I will be bound to the prison of the box forever. There is no second chance.”
“Do not cry, My Lady,” Orange told her. “We will not fail you.” The rest of the men murmured and nodded in agreement.
She smiled seductively, then, and eagerly thrust forth the box. They all took a truffle, and when they each had one, it was noted that there were three pieces left. “What of the last three?” Shogun asked.
Catalunya laughed. “Is there not three more to your troupe?” she asked mockingly, laying her soft hand along Shogun’s cheek and turning his chin so he could see towards the back of the room.
As a whole, the men turned around, as if they had forgotten all about the women they traveled with. Gladstone stood up and called to them. “Ladies! Whatever are ye doing over there, have ye not been listening?” he chided. “Please, take of this damsel’s hospitality and help us free her from this prison of woe.”
Kedra, Shahrressa and M’Ladyhawke exchanged a look of amazement at his bold rudeness, but moved closer, leaned over the group and looked into the box. “I’m not sure,” Kedra said, mentally checking the delicate sweets for traces of magic residue that would expose the enchantment. Using her inward eye, she saw that they glowed with anthracite sheen, but refrained from letting her fear show on her face. “Besides, I don’t think I am hungry right now.”
Shahrressa picked up a piece. It seemed like an innocent tidbit, but then again, nothing about this woman was innocent, however expertly she acted. She held it up and looked at both sides, shaking her head. She knew that beautiful things were also commonly deadly as well, this lady and her bakery being no exception.
M’Ladyhawke took a truffle and examined it closely. “You made these yourself?” she asked the princess, suspiciously.
Catalunya nodded prettily. The men beamed.
M’Ladyhawke cocked her head to the side, and said, simply: “How?”
Catalunya seemed perplexed. “How?” she repeated.
M’Ladyhawke nodded. “Aye, ‘How’” she mocked, “as in, have you an oven within that box that we do not know about?’
Catalunya looked hurt. “I… I don’t know ‘how’,” she whimpered, her voice on the verge of tears. “But if you do not wish to help me, then all is lost…”
Freestander and Keith both stood up, almost menacingly. “Do you call this Lady a liar, M’Ladyhawke?” Freestander accused, and his hands clenched into fists. “Because if you do…”
He took two steps toward her. “Stop right there, tamer,” said Shahrressa firmly, raising her gloved hand to his chest. “No one is saying anything. But it seems to me that before we risk our lives for a lass we have only just met, we should find out what is in it for us, good or ill.”
Arana snorted. “You know what I think? I think you three are jealous. Why would Catalunya wish to hurt us?”
M’Ladyhawke shook her head, and changed her tone. She was not going to get anywhere with forcefulness, nor was she going to convince the men of the danger. “Let me ask this, then, in all sincerity. Lass, if none of us take of the food, what will happen?”
The princess shuddered slightly as if she felt a sudden chill. “What would happen? I would be bound to this room forever… but you don’t wish that fate for me, do you?”
The men reassured her as one that they would not. But M’Ladyhawke could tell that something was seriously wrong. Kedra caught her eye and nodded, and then chanted some words of magic.
Suddenly, the box was gone from Catalunya’s lap. The truffles disappeared with a little puff of smoke from each person’s hand. The beautiful princess gasped as M’Ladyhawke sprang lightly to the pedestal and looked down at the box that had been Catalunya’s prison for centuries.
“Bound to this chamber forever, you say? I don’t have a problem with that,” she said simply, and casually closed the lid. It sealed shut with a heavy clang, a sound that echoed through the chamber, a final ringing sound.
And with that sound, Catalunya’s spell was broken.
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