The Celestial Whore 4- The Next Dawn

This is Chapter 4 of the story. First Chapter of this story in this link. 

Chapter 3 could be found here.

The pale dawn light spilled across the flood rice paddies. The murky waters~ bobbing with the recent bloating dead within~ lapped at the weathered base of the beleaguered fortress, tendrils of mist clung to the scorch pocked walls, wreathing the imposing structure in an otherworldly veil. Dragonflies with dewdrop stuck to their glassy wings hesitated on the long marsh reed's grass blades. 

Jade-green stalks swayed gently along the moat banks, their rustling cutting through the stillness. All was hushed in foreboding stillness save for the occasional creak of the wooden watchtowers and the distant calls of birds. 

Here and there, Lord Qin's weary sentries stirred, their armor clinking as they scanned the fortress walls. The sentries blinked wearily, their eyes stinging from the acrid smoke that still hung in the air. Around the Qin camps, the old wives who lived around the village's surrounding the moat began to stir from their humble hovels to another unhappy day. If only to catch a loved one's sight upon those surrounded walls, to dispel half of their tortured worries. Or not have their trapped man die this day.

Another day, another round of the siege's grim routine. 

As the sun's first golden rays pierced the gloom, one of the guards on the eastern post suddenly straightened, his gaze fixed on something in the distance. 

The others followed his line of sight, and a murmur went through the ranks. A flash of movement on the battlements - the defenders were hoisting something aloft, their eyes trained on a towering bamboo pole rising above the walls. The sentries squinted, shielding their eyes against the glare. What they saw made their jaws drop.

A flash of pale flesh atop a tall bamboo pole that rose from the battlements. Squinting, they can only made out a solitary visage impaled upon the sharpened tip, ...but its delicate coiffure was unmistakable. 

Then, a flash of recognition caught their eye, and their breath caught in their throats.

A hush fell over the besiegers' camp. Qin's officers exchanged startled glances, their eyes wide. On the walls, the defenders looked on grimly, their faces etched with meaning, and much exhaustion.

Atop a tall bamboo pole, a severed head gazed down upon them, its raven tresses fluttering in the morning breeze. A faint unreadable expression played upon the bloodied lips. Then a sudden yelp of joy. 

A ragged cheer went up from the Qin camp, the soldiers embracing one another in triumph. Qin's men whooped and hollered, slapping one another on the back. Qin raced out of his tent, his weathered face alight with confusion and wonder, until many hands led his gaze to the impaled "The Snow Bitch," Her porcelain skin now slick with gore, her once-vibrant eyes lifeless. The cheers of the old wives echoed across the rice fields, rousing camps of besiegers from their tents. 

Lord Qin gestured to his lieutenants, barking orders to prepare for the fort's surrender. 

The townsfolk, too, poured from their homes, their faces alight with joy. The hated Snow Bitch, source of their misery, was no more. The defenders had seen reason at last, removing the obstacle that had prolonged this wretched siege. The old wives with crooked yellow teeth hugged each other tightly, scalding tears streamed down their weathered faces. Sun-bronzed children who had watched the weeks battles with wide, frightened eyes now danced and squealed.

Their tiny feet splashed through the muddy rice fields. Beneath the arrow stitched entrance the gate slowly creaked open, and a group of bedraggled, wounded soldiers emerging from within bearing a white flag. 

The defenders were a sorry sight. Many were wounded and covered in dirt and sweat, their armor battered and their faces haggard from the weeks of fighting. Their weapons wrapped harmlessly in roped bundles in defeat. But the thrilled children darted forward, clinging to their fathers and older brothers, tears of happiness streaming down their faces. 

"We are yours to command." 

The garrison commander, his face lined with exhaustion and sorrow, stepped forward to the mounted Qin. 

"The Bitch is dead."

Lord Qin beamed, trotted close, "You have fought bravely and honorably. I accept your choice." his eyes sized up the sight upon the sun washed pole, 

"And your choice in me." 

"Check your arms at the armory. Respite with your families, then report to my camp for your new orders." 

He paused, considering the strange uncharacteristic magnanimity of his own words. Then, as if casting all heeds of haughtiness aside, and wryly with a forming smile. After all, why not? Why not be a better person he always thought he could be? : today was a victory day. 

"I'm sure I can find new jobs that match your current ranks." 

"If you boys fight as well as you did, I'm sure we'll win a lot together." 

Braying, the old wives burst into tears and finally, they rushed forward over the moat waters to embrace their downcast men. The armored soldiers, too, overcame with their swollen heart bursted to tears streaming down their beet red faces as their scarred arms and brawny frame found their families'. Hands were touching familiar frames as if to make sure they were real and it's not a dream. And even Qin and Qin's men blinked with blustery lids.

They won. They all won.

In the midst of this joyous scene, the few tear- choked bronzed old wives looked up at that mottling pale thing which presided over them from its lofty perch. And bore deep into those upturned unseeing eyes, their faces a snarl of vindication. At last their sons and husbands were saved from her, the cruel snow bitch was dead. The bitch's white eyes seeming to gaze out over the now-tranquil moat. The reeds still whispered in the breeze, indifferent to the human drama. But for this moment, at least, all was right with the world.

As the sun rose higher in the sky, casted its warm light over the wet rice fields and the besieged fort, the dragonflies with dewdrop stuck to their wings tested their glassy burdens, their iridescent wings glinted in the morning light. 

Within the fortress, the Bitch's Annamese bodyguard knelt by her discarded robes, which pooled beside her discarded shape, his shoulders shook with silent sobs. He had loved her, in his own way, and now she was gone, her spirit dispersed like mist. The Happy Ending was for him, even if she'd never see. 

The sunrise that day would be remembered as particularly beautiful for many generations, as if the gods were smiling down on the weary soldiers and their loved ones, bringing them a much-needed ray of hope after such a hell. And the dragonflies, their wings now dry, launched their daring bodies through the sweet air.

"I am honored to have you all," Lord Qin beamed back to the surrendered soldiers as they gave him a stock of the now- emptied fort. Now with the bodies of their late comrades properly committed within and all of the arms and spoils laid out. 

“The scorching sun and the driving rain were both of ours" with perfect courtesy, Qin expended as the soldiers apologized for the cracked shields and emptied quivers, while his eyes traced the white and green jade bracelets of the two slain bitches and their various gold hairpins, great sets of pale white vases too. Brushing it off as if it was all a brother's quarrel from an unremembered past. These would be perfect for his wives and several daughters, and they would practically go mad when he bring these to them.

He noted, just for the barest of a moment, at the 2 women's head resting atop the rough camp desk by the side, where flies now danced around their lolling tongues and wide eyeballs as if these were cow heads on a wet market's stall. The soldiers had explained amply to him, that these stubborn shrews had been the sole authors of he and his soldier's misfortunes, costing much with their whore lives. 

Good woman

Qin mused, a small wry smile still tucking on one the side of his lips gracing it for the 2 bitch's heads. He had seen that exquisite- much ravished body up close and as a proud life long sadist noticed that it did not die struggling, or had any imposition upon it before death. ...and what a death it chose for itself. Such a selfless, erotic sacrifice. His alit eyes shifted between the 2 death- drawn faces.

"That will be all." 

"Be ready for duty. And go make some new friends." Qin beamed.

The former defenders bowed and filed past, their armors clinking. Despite their defeat, their heads were still held high. At the gate of the fortress they bid their families farewell and then marched off the causeways to the nearest of Qin's garrison to report for duty. Soon, after settling in and registering, they will be fully his men. And in time, if they proved their worth, may be permitted to furlough back again in the coming months. Then the men were gone, then their families, leaving only the chirp of the occasional grasshoppers in the now mostly empty fort. In the distance his new fort was only manned by a dozen of his most trusted guards far off patrolling the walls.  

Qin nodded gravely, propped up alone upon the Lord- Governor's rosewood throne. Then his gaze shifted back to the 2 fouling heads left upon that camp desk. 

In truth, the spoils here were pitiful, just baubles before the true plundering season could began. But these? He regarded the two detached face's gray and mottled- yet still a most peerless complexion. A proper treat finally proper for a whole life time's climb. And he could not wait to unwind his tortured seeds with these new marital- aids. 

He would began by making them kiss like star crossed lovers he imagined they were, 2 ill-starred sluts who found solace in each other's tongues behind that clown's back. He intended to retain them kissing long after they were pickled, and for many long campaigns after. After all these are once- in- a- life- time- rare- kind. Everyone knows, despite everyone hating on them no slut can compare to those exquisite northern bitches: truly, celestial, whores.