; ; “We’re in trouble, mistress,” the technically free, but virtually enslaved maid-companion of the thirteen year old princess exclaimed as she rushed back to the cabin of their ship.
; ; “Not pirates,” the bored young redhead just shy of her thirteenth birthday drawled, truly unimpressed with the maid’s fears. Marion had been her companion, and unofficial tutor since she had turned seven, and the pampered, and admittedly spoiled young girl felt little concern over her apparent histrionics. After all, she was the daughter of the king of T’Goll. The mightiest land in the known world. What did she have to fear? ; “Nay. Worse,” Marion told her. “The captain told me that storm blew us far off course. We are in Valdoran waters.”
; ; Now the girl paled, looking over at her guardian, and looking truly concerned. “Tell me you jest? Surely the captain isn’t planning on stopping there?” ; “He must, Lady Miranda,” she rasped. “Our main mast is snapped. Most of the sails are badly damaged, and he lost some of the crew to the storm. He did not say aught else, but I got the impression there were worse damages he kept to himself.
; ; “’Twould explain much,” she added grimly.
; ; “But….Valdor if full of demons, and worse. They are father’s mortal enemies,” the princess rasped. “Do they learn I am aboard….!”
; ; “Aye. I know. That is why the captain, knowing our dilemma, suggested a solution,” she said anxiously, looking around as if fearing she might be blighted for what she was about to say.
; ; “What? What can we do,” Miranda demanded, knowing only the one land in her world she feared with cause was now their destination.
; ; “We must disguise you. I shall be a….a freewoman of Xantia, since that is what I was ere I was sent to serve your father by my uncle. You, however, shall have to be my slave-companion.”
; ; “Slave,” Miranda rasped. “Why cannot I be a….a niece, or something? Even a companion. A free companion.”
; ; “Because, Valdor does not recognize the Ranulf Accords as most of the five great kings do, lady,” the blonde maid quickly explained, and went to her own luggage to start pulling out several articles to add to the things the captain had given her to help their deception. “You must know that,” she demanded of her charge.
; ; Miranda, who rarely paid attention to more than fashion, jewels, or increasingly….young lordlings, knew nothing of the sort.
; ; Marion sighed. “In Valdor, you are either slave, or free. If I, a free woman, traveled with a companion, even a sister, or other relation, she is likely to be taken as a slave by the slavers who ever seek fresh stock, claiming under their blood laws, that only one free female to each family is allowed.
; ; “And were you but a paid companion, they would take you as nothing more than a collarless slave, and easily claimed as I would have no authority over you.
; ; “However, lady, as my slave, I have all rights over you, and not even the slavers can take you from me. And as I am the only female of my lineage here, they cannot try to take me so long as I do not violate their laws. Which, thankfully, I do know, having paid attention to my tutors,” she chided the young girl.
; ; “But…..I won’t truly become….?” ; “For the time we are docked, I shall simply dress you as usual, claming ‘tis my preference that you look as you do, but I shall have to put a collar on your neck to show you are mine. I shall use a special dye the captain gave me to paint a false brand on you that will look real enough, but fade in time.
; ; “’Tis our only hope, lady, so you must cooperate.”
; ; “I….I know,” the young girl said quietly as Marion turned from her luggage with the items necessary to complete her transformation. “But….must we do this now?”
; ; “We dock in less than two hours,” she told the lady. “I do not know where exactly, but the captain has already raised the distress flag, and two Valdoran ships are flanking us. We cannot outrun them in our condition, so the captain was forced to ask aid lest they think we are hiding something, and then they would certainly attack.”
; ; “Very well, Marion…..”
; ; “Best start calling me mistress, lady. I….I shall call you Lady. That way I won’t slip up, hopefully, and if any remark on it, I’ll tell them ‘tis a jest my father played in naming you so.
; ; “The Valdorans would likely enjoy such a tale.”
; ; “Likely,” Miranda grimaced as the maid lifted her chin, and buckled a padded, leather collar with a leash around her throat. The hasp snapped with a chilling sound, for it locked itself when closed, and only a key could remove the device.
; ; “Do not fret….Lady, I do have the key,” Marion stroked her dark, red curls. “We’ll have to trim your hair, too. No slave ever had such curls,” she realized.
; ; “My hair,” Mira groaned.
; ; “Don’t fret. By the time we finish our tour, and return to T’Goll, ‘twill have likely grown back twice as long,” Marion smiled at her as she now opened a small pouch the captain had given her, and pulled out a small branding rod.
; ; Miranda’s eyes rounded at the sight of the thing, but Marion quickly calmed her. “Don’t fret. As I told you, the captain gave me a temporary dye. The brand will fade in a short time. But we must make it look authentic, so…..”
; ; “I do not like…..OW!…..this,” she yelped as she bent over, letting Marion pull up her skirts to press the blunt-tipped rod to her left butt cheek, and sent the ink-filled needles into her soft, pale flesh in a preset pattern. A Xantian sigil her father used, which made the temporary brand seem quite real when Marion pulled the branding rod back.
; ; “Perfect,” she said, studying the delicate brand that looked like a bird in flight with wings spread wide. “No one will suspect ’tis not a true brand.
; ; “Now, for your….hair.”
; ; “Hair,” the princess sniffed as she tugged in vain at the snug fit of the band about her throat that boasted the same silver sigil on its leash ring, the leash dangling from the same clip.
; ; “I told you I had to trim it, Lady. I also have to ensure you…..you are bare…..there,” she added with a downward glance. “Recall, slaves do not have…..woman’s hair.”
; ; “I barely have any now,” the princess moaned. “It took me two years to get the few wisps I have now.”
; ; “’Twill grow faster as you mature. But you cannot have any do the customs’ inspectors decide to check you over to prove my claim. Better a few inconveniences now, than a true life of slavery in a Valdoran slave pen, Lady,” she called her again, stressing the title as her slave name.
; ; “Aye,” she sighed, and blushed as Marion turned her sit on the edge of her bed, pushing her back to lift her skirts higher to bare her girl’s flesh.
; ; Marion couldn’t help but lick her lips as she stared down at the sparse curls dusting a fat, plump sex that begged attention. There was one more article the girl had to bear, but she wasn’t going to mention it. The princess would be sure to ruin her planned deception if she knew in advance what was about to happen.
; ; “This unguent,” she said, “Will ease the irritation when I shear you, Lady. You’ll feel numb for a little while, and then ‘twill be done,” she said, and poured the viscous fluid not on her plump mons, but over her hooded cleft, rubbing it in even as the girl groaned softly before the herbal potion began to steal the feeling from that sensitive part of her flesh.
; ; She almost smirked when the girl gave a grunt of disappointment, for Marion knew she was already exploring her own maturing body, and had often rubbed herself in the dark after they retired when she thought her sleeping. She wondered what the pampered royal would think if she learned that not only was Marion awake each time she explored her innocent flesh, but dreaming of her pink, juicy parts, and small, but firm little bosom. Dreaming of actually helping the young girl become a woman.
; ; Putting aside her own desires, she moved quickly to finish, for a successful deception spared not only her lady, but herself. She palmed the small silver crescents, and thrust one curtly through the hood of her clit atop her pink cleft, and then snapped the matching halves together to form the slave ring all slaves had in that tender place as proof of their status. She then used a razor the captain had provided, and quickly scraped away the few dark curls that dusted the tempting flesh, and wiped away the residue of the potion before pulling down the girl’s pale, yellow gown.
; ; Any pain, or ache she might feel as the potion faded could be written off easily enough, since by then the royal nymph would not dare speak if she was to keep to her role. “Now for your other hair,” she said, and quickly produced a pair of scissors from her own things to start trimming the princess’ thick, auburn curls, throwing the harvested mane into the nearby stove to be rid of the evidence.
; ; By the time Marion was finished, the little princess looked even younger with the short, now almost straight bob that hung just barely touching her shoulders, and framing a pale, oval face of obvious beauty. She looked very much like the kind of young lass that would draw a slaver’s eye, and a collar. That was just the look Marion wanted for her. For it would add a convincing aura to the lady’s role.
; ; “Now, remember,” she said, feeling the ship sway, and something thud hard outside the stateroom. “I am your mistress. You are Lady, my slave, and companion.
; ; “You must act the part as a true slave, Lady. You must be a slave, or we are both doomed.”
; ; “What….What if I mess up,” Miranda asked quietly, truly concerned now as guttural voices speaking the hated Valdoran tongue were now heard. Had they docked already, the increasingly frightened princess wondered.
; ; “I shall simply say you have not been my slave long, and were spoiled by a former master ere you came to my service.
; ; “Now, simply remember your slave codes,” Marion hissed as heavy footsteps sounded from outside, “And do not look into anyone’s faces.
; ; “Slaves always look down. Remember that, if naught else,” she hissed as a hard knock sounded even as she quickly packed away the few things she had out to change the lady into a slave.
; ; “Who is it,” Marion asked, and swallowed hard as she heard a curt, Valdoran voice order, “Open in the name of the king.”
; ; “Forgive me,” Marion smiled, switching to Valdoran as she opened the door to smile at the tall, rather lupine man with a thick beard. A lycanthrope, for certain. She heard they roamed free in Valdor. “I did not realize we had docked yet, sir.
; ; “Has the captain said how long the repairs shall take,” she inquired innocently as the big, hairy man stood before her, staring past her, eyeing the room.
; ; “Who’s with ya, then, lady,” she was asked curtly, and Marion was beyond grateful she had a talent for language, and had learned Valdoran. Just as she was grateful for the king allowing her to go better garbed than most servants, allowing her to better carry off the look of a traveling lady.
; ; “Just my slave. Lady,” she gestured to the girl who had at least wit enough to drop to her knees, and stare intently at the decking.
; ; “Papers,” he demanded, and Marion gave him an innocent look.
; ; “Papers, sir? Father said naught about needing papers.”
; ; “Where are you from, lady,” the hairy man demanded as two big, burly men in what looked like royal uniforms appeared outside the door as he spoke.
; ; “Any problems, K’Viit?” ; “None yet,” the lycanthrope growled. “Now, lady where?” ; “Why, from Xantia, sir. My father is a merchant,” she smiled sweetly. “He made a fortune in the guild,” she prattled on, “And grew wealthy enough to entice a baron’s daughter to his bed. She was my mother, of course. Anyway when I reached my majority, he suggested I travel, and see the real world ere I considered my own course, and…..”
; ; “Enough,” the feral man groaned, obviously well versed with the chatter of ladies. “Should have known,” he grumbled, lifting a clipboard to scribble something as he muttered. “Infernal Xants never have paperwork.
; ; “Well, your sire should have known better all the same,” he directed at her, tearing off a slip of parchment, and handing it to her. “Have the wench assessed at the local guild ere you proceed,” she was told. “And be certain you pay the proper taxes.”
; ; “Of course, sir. But….are you saying I must pay tax when we are simply staying here for repairs?” ; “My apologies, Lady Marion,” the captain, a thin, harried fellow entered the room at that moment. “I fear things are worse than suspected. We won’t be making repairs here.”
; ; “What do you mean, sir,” she asked as the three Valdorans moved on to the next stateroom to inspect it. She also moved to stand in front of Lady, to mask the fact she had dared look up in alarm at the ship captain’s declaration.
; ; “Forgive me,” he rasped, glancing toward Miranda. “But it seems our ship was damaged worse than we thought. She’s being scuttled,” the man told her.
; ; “Scuttled,” Miranda choked. “We….We have to stay here…..ah, mistress,” she choked out as the lycanthrope peered in on his way back to the gangplank after checking all the passengers.
; ; “Problems, captain,” the Valdoran asked.
; ; “Nay, good sir. Just explaining to the lady why we were going to have to leave the ship, and continue on by other means.”
; ; “Of course,” the man nodded. “Enjoy your visit to Valdor, Lady Marion,” he nodded, proving he had heard her addressed by the captain. Which likely meant he had heard Miranda’s outburst. Lycanthropes did have uncanny senses, even in human form.
; ; “Now, as I was saying, my men and I have to scuttle the ship. I fear the storm did far worse damage than we first thought.
; ; “After she’s unloaded, and I arrange for the shipment of our cargo by other means, we’re going to hire a ship, or more likely join a guild caravan to the closest friendly border.
; ; “Xantia, likely,” he stressed meaningfully.
; ; “Is that what you think best, captain,” she asked, looking back at Miranda who was looking horrified by the implications of the man’s words.
; ; They both knew to cross a border, any border, would mean her false registry would be registered with the slave guild in both lands, making her a legal slave by bureaucracy, rather than the usual means. That also meant fresh, true branding to clear customs offices. It did not matter that she was a princess, she would be known as a slave, and it would be very hard for her to simply vanish. The guild had slave hunters employed just for the purpose of tracking runaways. After all, some slaves did employ clever means to hide. Even a king’s daughter couldn’t hide from such men. Especially if her body was marked by known customs’ seals.
; ; “I fear ‘tis the only thing we can do, lady. I’ll help you get your luggage offloaded, and see you settled into an inn. Once we settle matters with the harbor master, we’ll see what travel arrangements can be made.
; ; “I warn you,” he added critically. “We’ll likely be in town for at least three days, or so, so be certain you pay all your taxes, and clear customs at once. That way you should have no problems for the rest of your stay in Valdor.”
; ; “I see. Can you tell me the name of this city, captain,” she asked. “Just to give me an idea of where we are?” ; “We’re in Kybera, lady,” the captain smiled. “Just on the western border of Valdor, at the end of the Kyber River.”
; ; “So, Xantia would only be a nine day journey north and west by carriage,” she smiled.
; ; “Aye. Just about that.
; ; “Unless, of course, we can find another ship that might give us berth on to K’Zir if you wish to finish your tour.”
; ; “I would prefer that, of course. Father would think if odd if I returned home too soon,” she said, giving a soft laugh for the listeners beyond the room she now felt sure were out there. She had always had a sense for certain things, and it served her well at times. This, likely, was one of them.
; ; “I’ll see what I can find. Meantime, as I said, I’ll have your things delivered to a suitable inn, and contact you with the details once I learn anything.”
; ; “Thank you, captain,” she smiled. “You are very kind to go to so much trouble on my behalf.
; ; “Come, Lady,” she drawled, taking up the princess’ leash as the captain left. “We should go take care of that pesky customs tax ere someone thinks to overcharge us,” she told her airily as she grabbed the small pouch with the princess’ jewels, and her heavier coins to add to her own. She didn’t want to lose the only valuables they had to some potential thief.
; ; Clothes could always be replaced. Gold and silver were far harder to come by, and could cost them dearly if they were thought to be vagrants. She was just grateful that Lady was sticking to her masquerade, and wasn’t throwing one of her temperamental fits over the possibility she might just end up caught in her disguise for life.
; ; Lady, as the princess was now called, trudged miserably after her as she was led out of the stateroom at the end of her leash. Few of the sailors even knew she wasn’t a slave, for most were not around when she had boarded, her father insisting she travel covertly to keep assassins from tracking her, or trying to abduct her for nefarious means.
; ; What had been a pleasant voyage to Paigantia to meet her future betrothed was suddenly a very dark, and grim adventure she had never wished for in her life. For Miranda was the kind of lady that liked her comforts, and enjoyed her pampering. Suddenly, she was face-to-face with another aspect of life she did not like at all.
; ; For outside of her father’s kingdom, she truly was just another pretty girl who could be all too easily stolen for true, and only her maid’s leash now kept her from that fate. Little wonder then that she kept close, her eyes focused on Marion’s’ apparently heedless back as she strolled off the docks, pretending to be dazzled by the greater buildings around them as she innocently asked for the local slave guild’s customs’ office.
; ; “I can take you there, lady,” the lycanthrope from the ship smiled as he appeared behind them, making Miranda yelp, and jump closer.
; ; Marion forced herself to ignore her, and paid her distress no mind as she smiled up at the big, hairy man who smiled at her. “Well, how delightful, sir. Father told me Valdoran men were quite chivalrous. I’m pleased to know he was right,” she smiled at him, knowing well enough how sensitive lycanthropes were about their human status.
; ; Besides, no male alive didn’t enjoy a bit of flattery.
; ; “You honor me, lady,” the tall man with amber smiled down at her, giving a half bow.
; ; “Oh, and I didn’t even think to introduce myself,” she said, her free hand slapping her forehead, ruffling her blonde bangs. “How silly of me. Father always says….
; ; “Oh, well, never mind,” she sighed, pretending not to notice the amber eyes rolling skyward. “I’m Lady Marion Drake, of Trinidad,” she smiled, giving him a proper curtsy.
; ; “Just plain ol’ Jacob Butler, lady,” the lycanthrope bowed a little more formally now. “Guild officer, at your service.”
; ; “How delightful to meet you, Sir Butler,” she cooed, feeling Miranda’s gaze on her back, and sensing the young princess likely thought her mad just now. She just didn’t yet realize how you managed such men. She was too used to lording it over those beneath her.
; ; “I believe I shall be quite lucky to have my very own guild escort,” she smiled. “I’m sure to have things settled, and enjoying a proper supper for once in timely fashion with you along,” she praised him.
; ; “Just between you, and I, I believe the captain kept the best food for himself, and served us his leftovers,” she murmured with a grimace. “For I cannot believe the swill he offered was his best,” she said with a dainty shudder.
; ; “Some men can be rogues,” the guild customs officer agreed as they walked down the twisting lanes beyond the docks until they reached a small building with huge glass windows.
; ; “And here we are. The customs office. Come in, and we’ll have your papers in order in no time.
; ; “We have a fourth level witch who files for us,” he winked. “She can finish up the worst mound of paperwork in just a snap of her fingers,” he assured her.
; ; “Oh, what a relief. I confess, when I was last in B’Zanna, I spent most of my vacation signing endless forms. ‘Twas all quite dreary,” she told him with a wrinkling of her still pert nose.
; ; The lycanthrope smiled again, and led her inside after gesturing her to precede him in gentlemanly fashion. Her senses jangled, and she realized the fellow wasn’t just nosing about as was his job. He was actually interested in her. Well, this could get complicated, she realized as she followed him to a desk with a surprisingly orderly stack of files set just so.
; ; “Have a seat,” she was offered, and Sir Butler actually gave her his own padded, leather chair, taking a stool for himself. “Now, you’ve just the one slave?” ; “Aye,” she nodded, glancing only then back at the pale redhead who had the wit to settle into a slave posture of squatting with knees slightly spread beneath her modest gown. Apparently the princess had paid attention to some things in her so far spoiled existence.
; ; “I call her Lady.
; ; “Well, actually father named her Lady. I believe ‘twas some sore of jest he was having at some fellow’s expense. He never quite explained it to me,” she admitted as the amber eyes rolled again, though Jacob continued to be patient as he pulled out a form, and began writing.
; ; “Age?” ; “Thirteen. Well, she will be in two weeks,” she grinned. “I was thinking of giving her a party. Just for a lark,” she said airily again, wriggling her fingers in amusement. “Of course, I didn’t expect the captain to delay our journey, and then sail us right into the heart of a storm.
; ; “’Tis been dreadful, I cannot say how much of a trial this trip has been.”
; ; “If you truly wish to go to K’Zir,” Jacob told her proving he had been listening, “And enjoy the trip,” he added with a wide grin, “I happen to know there is a respected merchant who is forming a caravan east this very week. He won’t leave for four days, yet, but you’d have a much nicer time, and be surrounded by royal guardsmen to ensure your safety.”
; ; “Truly,” she murmured, feigning interest, and guessing he was testing her. “And where in K’Zir are they going?” ; “Well, they’re only going to Trylls, as the merchant is escorting a duke’s daughter, along with a variety of slave meat to the local auctions. The duke is sending a personal guard to protect both, though, and you’d have a chance to see far more of the kingdom, rather than just an endless, likely choppy ocean,” he grinned.
; ; “That does sound better than sailing about in that little wooden shoe,” she smiled, and looked at the parchment the manbeast now slid over to her even as she realized such an escort would make ducking customs’ officials would be even harder than she first feared.
; ; “I’ll have to inspect your slave, of course, to assess her,” he told her now. “But if you wish to look over the pedigree I’ve prepared, I’m sure you’ll find it all in order. Once I assess your stock’s worth, and you pay her collar tax, you are free to go.”
; ; “Oh, thank you,” she smiled as she gestured at Lady. “Of course, you see she is finely blooded. I cannot hide that. I enjoy dressing her up, too.
; ; “Frankly, I think dragging about companions in rags is so tasteless.”
; ; “I know many slaves that are not so fortunate in their masters, lady. You have a kind heart,” the lycanthrope smiled at her.
; ; “Well, I am fond of the little imp. Even if she isn’t completely trained as yet. But she still pleases me as she is,” Marion beamed as she looked at Miranda, who was obviously blushing furiously for reasons only she knew since Marion knew she didn‘t understand Valdoran. The princess had shirked that class, too, feeling since they were enemies, she didn’t need to know their tongue.
; ; “Very well, then,” he smiled back at her. “Let’s finish this, and get you on your way,” the lycanthrope said, and rose to gesture at Miranda. “Stand up, wench, and let’s see you.”
; ; “Oh, I’m sorry. The poor creature doesn’t know Valdoran,” Marion sighed, then looked down at the pale, apparent slave.
; ; “Stand up, girl,” she said in Xantian, which she knew the girl knew as well as her native tongue, but didn’t dare use that one. “Let the gentleman inspect you.
; ; “Now,” she added curtly with a warning glare.
; ; Miranda understood. She rose to her feet, and swallowed hard as she kept her eyes downcast as the Valdoran manbeast tugged briefly at her collar to test it, or to get a better view of it. He then knelt before her, and pulled her skirts up high, and it was all she could do to swallow her gasp as the man swatted her dimpled bottom as he grinned at the brand etched plainly in the small, firm ass.
; ; He then eyed the silver ring gleaming atop the plump cleft, and slid his finger into his own mouth to lubricate it before sliding it brusquely right up inside her untouched sex. She gasped as she felt the calloused digit probe the snug channel, and tried very hard not to cry out as the manbeast finally dropped her skirts after he removed his finger before sniffing it, and licking it clean.
; ; “A virgin still? At her age,” he asked as he now slid his hands up and down her trim body, even checking her teeth, and hair. ; “And now you know why I was thinking of throwing her a party,” she giggled as he sat back on his stool after Miranda sank back down in her slave posture, still blushing with shame at being handled by a common manbeast. It also galled her that her apparent mistress allowed it, and never said a word. She just wished she knew what it was they were saying, but the guttural tongue left her completely confused.
; ; “I daresay she wouldn’t be a virgin afterward,” he grinned as he filled in the Xantian brand, and penned in his assessment of the young slave.
; ; “Five hundred silver,” Marion gasped as she opened her purse to pull out the necessary coins. “That much?” ; “Well, I cheated a little. I didn’t note she is still virgin. Otherwise, the assessment would be higher. But the tax is only five percent. So twenty-five silvers will pay the guild custom, and clear you for the rest of your journey.”
; ; “Oh, thank goodness,” she sighed in relief, pretending not to understand such things as she handed him the required fee when she knew from her education that Jacob Butler had obviously given her a hefty discount. “Father would think me mad if I had to write for more funds so soon after departing,” she informed him.
; ; “Well, once I file the official copy of the pedigree,” he said, handing her a rolled, and sealed copy for her records. “I can show you the way to the inn. Your luggage should be there by now, and you will be in time for supper.
; ; “The Silver Swan serves a very fine roast pork.”
; ; “Oh, that does sound delicious,” she smiled. Then, knowing men well enough, she smiled as she tucked the parchment away, and asked, “I don’t suppose you’ll be dining there yourself this evening?” ; “I occasionally take an after dinner drink there. But mayhap if I had an invitation…..?” ; “I should be delighted,” she beamed, feeling she could do worse than to have a guild officer escorting her about town on her first day in Valdor. It would make the usual slavers, and rogues think twice before approaching, or targeting her. “I shall treat you to a meal, of course. ‘Tis the least I can do for all your help, Sir Butler,” she assured him.
; ; “Now I am honored, Lady Drake.”
; ; “Oh, don’t be silly. We’re getting to be such fine friends, I insist you call me Lady Marion,” she told him with a pat on his big, calloused hand.
; ; The lycanthrope, a cunning, deadly adversary at any time, actually blushed.
; ; Marion was no fool. She knew how to deal with men. And manbeast, or human, a male was a male.
; ; “Shall we go, then, Sir Butler.”
; ; “To be fair, you must address me as Sir Jacob, ah, Lady Marion,” he smiled as he rose with the official copy of her pedigree in hand. “Just let me…..submit this for filing, and….we’ll be ready.”
; ; Marion smiled, feeling a bit anxious about actually having the princess’ pedigree on an official guild roster, but there was not much she could do about it just then. When the dark-skinned woman with coal-black hair and eyes took the parchment offered, and eyed them as they stood before her.
; ; “This is Agatha. Just Agatha,” Jacob told her as she took the pedigree, eyeing it closely. “She’s the filing clerk I told you about earlier.”
; ; “A real witch,” Marion asked as she studied the dark-skinned woman who was obviously Frankish.
; ; The woman eyed Miranda as she studied the pedigree she was handed, along with the payment placed on her desk beside it, and snorted. “Another conquest, Jake,” she asked.
; ; “Just a lady in need of help passing through,” the lycanthrope smiled at his coworker.
; ; Agatha snorted, and waved her hand over the desk. The pedigree, and the silver coins faded from where they had been, and Marion blinked as she applauded. “Magic,” she giggled. “I heard ‘twas real, but I’ve never actually seen it,” she exclaimed.
; ; “Charming. Is your pet as empty-headed as you,” she drawled.
; ; “Now, Agatha,” she was chided. “Be nice. Lady Marion is Xantian, and a guest in our land.”
; ; “Hmph,” the magic worker snorted, and went back to reviewing endless annals she had appearing and disappearing before her as she pointedly ignored them.
; ; “She seems a bit stressed,” Marion murmured as they turned to leave the guild office.
; ; “That’s just her way. She’s actually quite nice once you get to know her.
; ; “Say, if you don’t mind a quick side trip, I know another magic worker that might just be able to aid you.”
; ; “What do you mean,” she asked, trying not to betray any uneasiness as the tall manbeast accompanied her as they turned up the sidewalk toward the heart of town now, heedless of the press all around them. She knew Miranda followed, and having never felt the tug on her leash, knew she was ensuring her ‘mistress’ didn’t get too far ahead.
; ; “Well, you said your pet wasn’t very well trained, and didn’t understand even simple Valdoran,” Jacob grinned. “I know a ninth level witch who does simple charms, and such that could hex her collar so she was ever obedient, and could understand whatever is said to her so you don’t have to bother yourself with translating everything.”
; ; “That….would be handy,” she choked out, but did not show her alarm, thankful Agatha had not caught anything out with them, since she knew fourth level witches of her caliber could easily sniff out deception if they put their minds to it.
; ; “Does it cost much?” ; “For such a simple spell? A few coppers,” he smiled. “And ‘twill be my treat,” he told her. “Since you are buying our supper,” he grinned, and daringly took her free arm, her left hand still keeping a firm hold on Miranda’s leash.
; ; “Indeed, I am. I always keep my promises, and I’ve not had such an attentive gentleman keep me company in some time,” she beamed.
; ; “So, do you want to hex her collar,” he grinned. “’Twould save you some grief in the end, I’m sure.”
; ; “Why not,” she decided, knowing the spell would be broken once the collar came off anyway, and besides, that kind of spell might just save the girl’s life if she was going to gasp, and resist every time a man so much as leered at her, or pinched her admittedly cute little bottom.
; ; For Trylls was weeks away, and she definitely wanted to get out of Valdor alive, and free. By then, maybe she would have thought up something to spare the princess a life of genuine slavery. Although, a part of her did enjoy having the former brat at her beck and call. Especially when she thought of that trim, sensual body that was already blossoming beneath her gown.
; ; “Then, this way, my lady,” he said, breaking her secret thoughts as he glanced up at the pale silhouette of the full moon in the afternoon sky already sitting bloated on the horizon. He smiled, and looked back at the tempting piece of woman-flesh beside him. Both pieces.
; ; Tonight, he decided, he would indulge himself. It had been a while, after all.
; ; “More, more,” Marion cried, arching her back as she drove her hips back to meet every thrust of the hairy, powerfully muscled creature drove his tireless shaft deep into her womb on every thrust.
; ; Jake grumbled his pleasure even as the night claimed the fading daylight after he had joined the lady in her room, and felt his body starting to transform to his true shape under the baleful eye of the moon visible outside the open window.
; ; Marion barely noticed as his hard, hairy body enlarged, turning harder, and hairier, until he leaned down to take the nape of her neck in strong jaws, holding his bitch in place as his swelling shaft abruptly lodged within her, and he began to jet his seed directly into the mouth of her womb as his pheromones kept her eager, and aroused as the beast began to overtake the man as night just began.
; ; “Don’t….stop,” the blonde gasped, howling even more loudly than he as she became truly lost in her own mounting passion as lust blinded her to all else just then. She finally gave a final cry, and went limp before him, merely panting heavily as she remained knotted to his large shaft, and moaning in obvious delight.
; ; K’Viit, as the manbeast was known to his own kind in his beast form, merely growled, and continued to plow his new bitch even if she had found her own climax. By morning, she would be well bred, and in a few months, she would be birthing his cubs. His only question just then, was whether to keep the silly lady, or not.
; ; He grunted, growling softly when he finally released her nape, though his thick, pulsing shaft remained knotted in the delirious bitch’s clasping hole. Her freshness, and fertility had drawn him to her that day as much as anything else. It had been a long time since he had actually bred one of his wenches that he occasionally took on a whim. She was the first he considered keeping around.
; ; Then again, he could just go with her. It was nigh seven weeks to the K’Zir border did she accompany the caravan he had spoke of earlier. By then she’d be well aware she was breeding, and well under the power of his cubs growing in her womb. She would have no alternative but to birth them, for that was the nature of his curse, that it compelled bitches to keep that life put into their bellies even if ordinarily they would have seen a witch, or midwife the instant they thought such a thing had occurred.
; ; He grumbled with contentment, the first full moon of the month keeping him lupine this night rather than allowing him to change back at will as he could any other time. Not that it mattered. Unlike the popular misconceptions concerning his kind, he did not lose his mind to the beast’s shape he wore. He simply couldn’t quite speak as clearly, and had a compelling drive to reproduce if a fertile female was in the area.
; ; Even as he finally drew his still partially tumescent from her gaping, dripping hole, he turned and grinned at the young slave girl that stared in horror at him as she knelt at the foot of the bed. Her mistress’ last command had been to stay there after she had been stripped, and put on a blanket on the floor for her use, and so she had. Even when she whimpered, and gasped as she watched her mistress overwhelmed by the beast that had claimed her. He grinned, licking his wolfish snout as he rose on his two legs, now standing taller than ever over her as the little slave trembled before him.
; ; She was not receptive, or he might have plowed her, too. He might yet. But not now. As a man, later, she would be easier to take. Just now, the wolf wanted to rest ere he plowed his receptive, and fertile bitch again. He pointed at the lady’s ass as she lay there with her bottom still in the air, her legs spread, and the fat purse of her cunny drooling his thick seed, and growled, “Clean,” as clearly as he could manage.
; ; Thankfully, the witch’s magic allowed for his difficulty speaking, and she understood him clearly, for she rose from where she had been kneeling, compelled to watch them coupling…..fucking, actually, and started toward the washbasin.
; ; “Nay,” he growled, the word almost lost in the snarl, though the young wench froze instantly. “Wif’ tongue,” he told her with a feral grin.
; ; The girl actually whimpered, turning paler than ever, but padded over to the bed, and crawled behind her mistress to bury her face in her ravaged slit, and started licking at the pliant flesh that dripped with his seed.
; ; He smiled, grumbling his amusement as the girl obeyed him, understanding even his managed Valdoran thanks to the fine spell of obedience on her, and settled at the foot of the bed to watch her lave her mistress, and wondered how many times the little wench had done so for the obviously randy young lady that had definitely not been a virgin.
; ; Not that many were.
; ; In his experience, by the time a lady was of age to wed, she had likely already been well plowed before her husband ever got the chance to crawl between her thighs. This one was no different. Still, she was nice and snug, and showed no signs of having birthed before now. He rather liked the idea of the silly blonde’s first babes being his cubs.
; ; He found he liked the idea a lot as he watched the little slave with her face buried in her mistress’ backside. It was enough to spur his rapidly recovering cock, and he shoved her aside, grinning down at her as she stared at him in fear as if expecting to be speared by his long, thick weapon.
; ; “Mo’e,” he ordered her, gesturing up at the pillows.
; ; She scrambled up to the head of the bed, content to get away from him, and yet couldn’t seem to take his eyes off him as he simply grabbed Marion Drake’s hips, and thrust his rod had into her belly once more. The blonde came half off the bed, rising to gasp in raw hunger, her voice a sensual moan that stretched out for several minutes, and then she slowly dropped back down to all fours even as her eyes locked on the redheaded slave who was staring in horror at them as K’Viit began to push himself in and out of the bitch slowly this time, savoring the feel of her hot, clasping flesh as she milked him with obvious experience on every stroke.
; ; Then, to his surprise, and delight, the pleasure-drugged blonde grabbed the redhead’s slender legs, and pulled her down beneath her, spreading her legs wide to bury her face between those pale limbs. The redhead cried out in shock and surprise, and there was no denying the confusion there as those wide, blue eyes stared vacantly for a moment as she tensed beneath her mistress.
; ; This was new to the girl. Apparently, her mistress really had been saving the girl for a special party. Too bad, because tonight, her mistress was going to show her some of what she was missing, he grinned in feral fashion as he continued to pound his shaft rhythmically into the firm, golden-furred sheath before him as she in turn drove her tongue right into the little slave’s naked sex. The thin, coltish hips jerked anxiously, but there was no denying the girl was starting to feel her own arousal as her pale teats flushed from her exertion.
; ; Then she was arching her body, working her hips anxiously as he heard Marion’s muffled voice ordering her, “Cum! Cum for me, you slut! Cum,” as she continued to use her lips, teeth, and tongue to tease the girl.
; ; And being obedient, she climaxed beneath her randy mistress who licked all the more at the gushing musk from her virgin flesh as she continued to meet his every thrust with her own obviously talented body. This, he decided, was one very gifted slut.
; ; The sunlight blinded Miranda as she slowly rolled over, and looked out the open window, the voices of hawkers, and merchants strident on the morning air as she felt a peculiar soreness between her thighs. She looked down, and again saw her own nakedness. She also saw that hellish ring she couldn’t figure out how had ended up where it was. One minute she had been confused by that old woman she was led to into the back of that smelly, old shop, and the next she was standing there understanding every word as every nerve in her body seemed on fire as she suddenly found herself kneeling between the woman’s reeking thighs, her face buried in that hideous nest of graying curls as she heard the woman order her to suckle her, and even instructed her just how to do so as her maid Marion, and that strange Valdoran waited for her in the front of the shop.
; ; To her horror, and chagrin, she couldn’t stop licking that wrinkled, old woman in spite of her revulsion, and she guessed the old crone had bewitched her somehow. Yet even she didn’t realize how until later.
; ; At the time, she had been relieved the repulsive, old woman finally released her, and let her go back to her apparent mistress who was chatting idly with the tall, hairy Valdoran she still didn’t see why she was apparently attracted to at all. Yet she knew the look, and her former maid, now her mistress, was all but drooling over the man she could suddenly understand as she was finally led to the inn where she was fed a loathsome porridge in the kitchens, while her maid sat in the commons room with that Valdoran eating a fine meal, and drinking fine wine.
; ; It was beyond bearing. Yet every time she even tried to hint at her outrage, she found herself feeling a strange cowing that subdued her outrage. In the end, she bowed to her superiors, and said nothing.
; ; And every time someone spoke, she found she not only understood every word they said not, she also had to obey them if they gave any kind of command. When the fat, ugly cook told her to lick her barely touched bowl clean, she did with a pathetic eagerness that shamed her. When one of the kitchen maids told her to help them serve guests, she leapt up, and went to work without a moment’s hesitation. Even when her mistress bid her to undress, and lay on the floor like a true slave when they finally went to their room, she had no choice but to obey.
; ; Nor did it help that the strange Valdoran had come along, so she couldn’t even think of trying to speak candidly to her mistress.
; ; Then she had seen them rut like beasts as she was left kneeling naked beside the bed, helplessly watching their virtually savage bed sport.
; ; And little wonder, since the man was a true manbeast, and actually shape-shifted into a huge, hairy thing that would likely haunt her nightmares for the rest of her life. Then, her horror truly rose as the beast looked down at her, and commanded her to actually lick Marion clean after he had plowed her like a common whore. To her utter dismay, she had. And kept lapping at that musky, spongy flesh as if she had no will of her own.
; ; Until he flung her aside, leaving her for Marion to abuse who in turn attacked her with her mouth, and fingers, until she feared the woman intended to devour her alive. She still remembered the endless parade of helpless, shattering orgasms far beyond anything she had ever experienced as she was ordered again and again to climax for the apparently also bewitched maid who had become her mistress. In the end, she simply yielded, and the rest of the night was a blur of flesh, and mad lust.
; ; She blinked again, hearing a soft chortle, and she turned her head to look into the wide, green eyes of her mistress.
; ; Of Marion, she tried to correct herself.
; ; Marion. Her mistress.
; ; She frowned, but found herself smiling at Marion when the woman asked, “Did you enjoy yourself last night, little one?” ; “Aye, mistress,” she heard herself coo even though she wanted to scream. “Very much.”
; ; “I enjoyed you, too,” she said as she sat up when Marion gestured, and she was relieved to see the man, or the beast….both, were gone. “Did K’Viit fuck you, too?” ; “Nay, mistress,” she murmured quietly even as she rose from the bed, and went to the washstand to bring a damp cloth for Marion, rather than tend herself first as had been her intention.
; ; Too bad,” she murmured in what sounded like genuine disappointment, then grinned at the astonished redhead.
; ; “You make a fine maid, Lady,” Marion smiled at her, taking the cloth, and washing her face first before dropping it atop her sticky, blonde nest, and spreading her thighs.
; ; Miranda found she instinctively understood the gesture, and found her hand moving to reclaim the cloth, and cleaning her mistress without a word needed. “Am I bewitched, mistress,” she finally choked out, managing to finally find words that the magic didn’t block.
; ; “Aye. I let a witch put an obedience spell on your collar so that you wouldn’t accidentally betray us. It also made you understand Valdoran, so you didn’t inadvertently anger our champion.”
; ; “Champion?” ; “We are strangers in this land, Lady. K’Viit, or Sir Butler, as you wish, is a good man to have on our side.
; ; “And he certainly knows how to satisfy a lady,” she smiled as she lay back, legs spread wide, letting Miranda clean her. “I think you’d enjoy his rod, too.”
; ; “He…scared me.”
; ; “You don’t recall all I told you of lycanthropes,” Marion asked her lightly as Miranda went back to the washstand to clean herself now as the blonde lady stretched, and rose, smiling fondly at the memory of her lover who took her long into the night.
; ; “I remember they are known to breed hapless women,” she said, unable to keep a tone of disgust from her voice.
; ; Marion only chuckled. “I see little harm in bearing a few wolf cubs for a fine man like K’Viit, when half your father’s court felt it their duty to teach me every perverse game they had learned in the pleasure halls of Z’kusia.”
; ; Miranda blushed at that, but said no more as a knock sounded at the door.
; ; Naked, and unashamed of it, Marion gestured to her to open the door. Miranda was more bashful about her nakedness, but was compelled to go to the door all the same. She pulled it open, and two stocky maids entered to set a fine, hot morning meal on the bedside table.
; ; “Courtesy of Sir Butler, m’lady,” one of the women told her when the other set a bowl of that gray mush on the floor near her pallet.
; ; Miranda grimaced, but Marion laughed. “Best you eat it, sweetie,” the mistress turned maid ordered her. “’Twill keep your own belly empty if someone decides you are a fine ride.”
; ; Miranda whimpered, but went to her knees and began eating the tasteless meal with a dark look over the rim of the bowl.
; ; “Don’t worry, lass,” Marion smiled at her. “You may share this fine meal with me after you’ve finished that bowl.
; ; “’Twill look odd if a slave does not eat her usual meal, after all. And as I said, the herbs given slaves in that porridge will keep you barren until your mistress desires you bred.”
; ; “And as far as K’Viit’s cubs,” she added, patting her own pale belly just above her still swollen pink cunny. “They’ll be born soon after the time we reach K’Zir, if not before,” she told her. “Lycanthropes mature early, and only take a few months to gestate.”
; ; Miranda said nothing as she continued to eat the tasteful mush, helpless to defy the command given her.
; ; “I wonder if K’Viit plans to accompany us to the border,” she murmured as she idly picked up a piece of fresh, sliced fruit, and began to nibble hungrily on it.
; ; “We are….joining the caravan, then?” All she could think of was such a plan could well trap her as marion’s slave forever. ; “Oh, aye. The captain came by last night after you passed out,” she told her as she took a piece of the fresh, buttered bread, and handed it to her ‘slave’ in a gracious manner. “We’ll have to wait here for a few days while he finishes scuttling the ship, and selling it for salvage to cover his own expenses. Then he has to arrange to pay off his remaining crew, and buy us a carriage, or mounts to carry us. Not to mention the problem of addressing the merchant in charge of the caravan, and getting him to allow us to accompany him.
; ; “I think, one look at you, though, and the fellow would relent.”
; ; “You think to buy passage with my body,” Miranda gasped.
; ; “Oh, don’t be melodramatic, Lady,” Marion huffed, acting far more like a haughty lady this morning than even yesterday.
; ; Yet, Miranda knew she was acting more like a frightened, obedient slave girl. Something about that disturbed her, but it also felt….oddly right.
; ; “Mistress,” she asked later as she helped her lady dress. “Can I…ever be free of this witchery?” ; “As I understand it,” Marion smiled indifferently. “’Tis a spell on your collar. I suppose when we remove your collar once we are safely back in friendlier lands, the spell will go with it.”
; ; Miranda nodded, but said no more. She didn’t even think to ask her mistress of the slave ring in her bare puss. After all, it was a part of her new, and increasingly growing identity something nameless within her assured her. All slaves had such rings which had various uses, depending upon the occasion.
; ; Miranda thought no more on the matter as she helped her mistress prepare for the coming day. She wanted to go out and see the town, and voicing a sly remark about not trusting indolent slaves alone, she was to go with her.
; ; Miranda, more and more losing herself in Lady’s role after only a single night, wisely said nothing. Besides, she didn’t wish to get left behind, and possibly be raped, stolen, or even put to more back-breaking labor by the gruff innkeeper who didn’t mind ordering other people’s slaves around as if they were his own. She still wondered over the fact her mistress had not protested over that last night, but she never said a word. Of course, she was bewitched by that lycanthrope last night, too. She couldn’t help but wonder if her mistress weren’t hoping to see him again as she led her out into the already crowded streets.
; ; “Did you enjoy that empty-headed Xantian last night,” Agatha asked K’Viit as he sat grinning behind his desk most of the morning.
; ; “In truth, Aggie, I plowed her till it was near morn. And she begged for more even as I was leaving,” he chuckled as Draal, the office manager merely glared at him on his way to the back to review some matter. “Thank the gods for my fine stamina,” he grinned.
; ; Draal, a short, ugly man with no hair, was rumored never to have ever known the touch of a woman. Not even his mother, who apparently tried to kill him at birth, only to be stopped by his father, who cared only that he had had at least gotten a son out of the woman.
; ; “I suppose you poked it in that babe she was dragging about, too,” the witch grumbled.
; ; “Actually, the lady took care of her. Seems they have a….relationship,” he chortled, and saw Agatha color even darker than usual, knowing she as rather prim for a witch of her level. She could easily have made third level, but she shied away from the attentions of a first level practitioner who took a liking to her. When she wouldn’t play, that first level witch saw to it she paid. Part of her vengenace was sticking her with a low-paying job for even a fourth level mage.
; ; “Well, some like such things, I suppose,” she said, her lips drawn thin in obvious disapproval.
; ; “They obviously did. Though the lady seemed quite appreciative of me, too.”
; ; “I doubt she’ll feel the same when she’s being trailed about by your pups.”
; ; “Cubs, please,” K’Viit snorted. “Do I insult your kind?” ; Agatha waved her hand airily as Marion had, and in an uncanny imitation, drawled, “Well, I suppose some people just can’t help themselves,” she tittered.
; ; K’Viit didn’t take offense. He simply roared with laughter.
; ; “Don’t you have any work to do,” Draal demanded as he came out of the back lugging a thick, black binder to glare at them.
; ; “Sir Clarke’s caravan doesn’t leave for two more days, sir,” K’Viit told him. “We cleared up the fees and taxes on the Wyrran ship that came floundering into port yesterday, and there’s not much else going on just now.”
; ; “I see. And are you accompanying Clarke like the duke asked you?” ; “I’m….considering it. He did offer a tempting bonus.”
; ; “I doubt that’s the bonus you’re thinking of just now,” Agatha drawled.
; ; Draal grunted again, and carried the binder he held to his office, muttering darkly beneath his breath as he left them alone again.
; ; K’Viit grinned. “Admit it, Aggie, you’re curious. Would it really kill you to just let yourself go once in a while. I swear, you must be the only virgin witch in the world.”
; ; “Hardly. Some magic workers use their purity to amplify their magics.”
; ; “Not you. I know the difference. You just don’t like sex. Why is that?”
; ; “I like sex just fine. I’m just not a randy beast that mounts anything that walks by.”
; ; “Aggie, how do you know what you do, or don’t like, when we both know you’ve never done anything, to anyone.”
; ; Agatha only glared at him.
; ; “I know. Come with us to K’Zir. Draal can make do without you for a bit. I’ll bet between the duke’s men, Lady Marion, and her cute little slave, you might just unwind and enjoy yourself.”
; ; “Or end up in someone’s collar? I don’t think so.”
; ; “Oh, please. You’re more likely to end up blooded by some parasite than taken by a slaver. Everyone knows magic workers make poor slaves.”
; ; Agatha smirked crookedly. “So, you think that’s going to encourage me?” ; “I’ll tell you what,” he said, grinning widely now as he leaned forward over his desk. “Come with us, and if you don’t unwind, and have a bit of fun on this trip, I’ll never bother you again.”
; ; “Your pheromones don’t work on me, you do know that,” she drawled.
; ; “Of course. I’m offering you a legitimate deal.”
; ; “So. All I have to do is shadow you, and your new bitch, then come back, and you’ll stop pestering me?”
; ; “Blood oath,” K’Viit grinned.
; ; “Under one condition,” she grinned, making a telling gesture.
; ; “You’re kidding,” he grimaced.
; ; “K’Viit, when have you ever known me to kid?” ; He grimaced, but sighed heavily. “All right,” he sighed. “Deal. But you have to at least try to relax, and have some fun.”
; ; “We’ll see,” the witch mumbled.
; ; “Are you sure about this, ah, Lady Marion,” the captain asked as he joined her as they loaded the mare that carried many of their supplies. Nearby, Lady stood leashed to the saddle of the mare she was to ride. A taller, stronger gelding was the captain’s mount that stood beside the small cart that carried the rest of their luggage from the ship.
; ; His men had stayed on the docks, preferring to find ships to make their way back home, or off to other seas. Sailors from birth for the most part, none of them cared for a land journey that might take months to even reach safe haven where they would only then be returning to the sea. Captain Ian Gregory, however, was the man also responsible for the women’s safety, and he would be answering to Lord-King Winters eventually, no matter how much time passed.
; ; He couldn’t leave the women in such dire straits, and he certainly couldn’t leave the king’s daughter caught in a masquerade he himself had suggested. His life would be less than worthless if the young princess didn’t make it safely back to T’Goll in one piece.
; ; Yet he was truly astonished to have found how well the pair were managing their rolls as the days passed, and the former maid played the bored lady to perfection even as the admittedly spoiled child he had come to know actually played the dutiful maid equally well. She even addressed him as master, and remembered to keep her head bowed at all times as a lesser creature should. Her finery had even been packed away
; ; To be honest, he had been uncertain how long the mask could hold, considering how troublesome the princess had been at times on board ship. A more coddled, and annoying child he could not think of at the moment, but he found a certain grim amusement in seeing her now so well humbled. And by necessity, she couldn’t even raise her voice to him when he had daringly swatted her ass earlier, asking her if she was ready to leave.
; ; The girl had yelped, then simply replied blandly that the decision was her mistress’, and she would obey whatever she decided. Ian had been stunned to hear such humility from the girl, and recalled when he had first seen her in the maid’s room, naked, and sprawled out in the bed when he had come to advise them of how things had been going, he had been stunned to say the least. The scent of sex had been thick in the air, and there was no doubt the two had been enjoying one another.
; ; Seeing how earnest the little princess was in keeping to her role, he couldn’t help but consider finding out if she might just warm his blankets on the long journey ahead. After all, as Xantians, they’d all be keeping together as they traveled. It would only make sense to enjoy Marion’s company, and at such times, it was customary for such slave girls to sate a weary man in need of her skills.
; ; A nice fantasy, he grinned as he rechecked the mare’s harness to ensure the extra rations he had acquired for them were secure. But he still wanted to keep his head after this adventure. He could just imagine the little hellion howling to her father after they reached safe haven about how Captain Gregory had abused her. Mayhap maids shared such dalliances with their mistresses all the time. He had heard tales, but who knew? He just knew that he wanted his head kept firmly affixed to his neck even as he glanced over at the little slave girl who was standing dutifully in place in a more practical linen sleeveless dress that covered her body, and little else.
; ; “Are we ready, then,” Marion asked him, not commenting on the fact she couldn’t help but note the direction the old man’s eyes kept going every other moment.
; ; As the queen used to comment about certain men, “Were his eyes a prick, half the ladies at court would stay bred!”
; ; The queen, Marion had learned, was a rather dry wit. Unfortunately, so far, her daughter had picked up little of her wit, or wisdom. She wondered though if this adventure, as it progressed, and stretched out before them, would finally mature the young girl so that she came to understand not only the value of knowledge, but the worth of others around her no matter their social class, or standing. Of course, the way things were going, the king’s daughter would be wearing a collar, not a crown by the time they made it home.
; ; “Lady Marion,” the tall, lean lycanthrope greeted her rather loudly, almost startling her as he reined in a roan almost the same dark auburn color of his own hair. “I see you are about ready. Do you have all you need?” ; “I do now, sir,” she smiled up at him, feeling the tug of an unseen bond between them as she noted the man’s face was actually quite handsome without the thick, scraggly beard he had been wearing. “And I approve.”
; ; Jacob, called K’Viit, did not preamble about misunderstanding her. He ran a hand over his lower jaw as he dropped gracefully from the saddle, and grinned at her as he gave a low bow. “The price of a certain wager, I fear. I can never keep from accepting wild games, even when I should,” he informed her.
; ; “I shall have to keep that in mind,” she grinned, her cheeks flushed, as she felt the surge of heat behind her chest swell as greatly as her nipples, which had been unusually sensitive of late. Being a country woman, she knew well enough what that meant.
; ; “M’lady,” Ian came up leading the laden mare. “Do you know this fellow?” ; “Of course, Captain Gregory. This is Sir Butler, the gentleman that we encountered on the ship and later aided me in several….personal matters.”
; ; “Of course,” the captain nodded, eyeing the amber-eyed lycanthrope uneasily. “So, you are coming to see us off?” ; “Actually,” the tall man who stood well over six foot grinned down at the shorter, thinner seaman. “I’m here to accompany you.
; ; “Well, Sir Clarke, actually,” he grinned. “I’m not only the guild officer for regional taxation, but a bodyguard for transport of certain valuable stock,” he said, pointing over to the three wagons that were more wheeled cages than not. Each cage carried at least a score of pretty, young girls of all ages, and some were quite dark, betraying Frankish, or K’Zir heritage.
; ; “I see,” Ian smiled anxiously as he saw how the maid was reacting to the fellow. “Well, I suppose we’ll be all be quite safe with you along, hey,” he asked.
; ; “Only if he doesn’t get sidetracked,” a lean, dark woman in dark linen advised as she seemed to just appear to sit atop Jacob’s horse.
; ; “I wondered where you were,” the tall man grinned at her. “Lady Marion, you recall Aggie….ah, that is Ms. Agatha.
; ; “She’s going along on official business for the guild, too. Some paperwork, or something of that like that needs clearing up at the other end,” he said as the solemn witch stared down at him with a bland expression.
; ; “Actually, I am coming along because this overgrown fur ball made a bet I am destined to win, and I rather like the idea of claiming his vow.”
; ; “Your vow,” Marion asked him.
; ; “Aye, lady,” the witch told her with a nod as she slipped down from the horse to stand beside the three of them. “He promised he would stop harassing me about my social life…..”
; ; “She means her lack of social life,” Jacob snickered.
; ; “If I came along, and did not enjoy myself.”
; ; “Then, you already intend to ensure you don’t enjoy the trip,” Marion frowned.
; ; “’Tis not so much an intent, as a well-informed guess,” Agatha told her. “Now, as I see little reason to waste good coin on a nag I won’t need that long, would you mind if I rode in your wagon, lady?”
; ; “Of course not,” Marion assured her. “There is plenty of room with just the driver on the seat.”
; ; “Your slave won’t be riding?” ; “Well, I intended she should when she got too weary, though to be honest she needs a bit more exercise than she’s gotten of late. Only the guild driver informed me that slaves were not allowed to ride on the carts.”
; ; Agatha scowled. “Someone lied to you, lady. ‘Tis quite acceptable to allow the lass to ride does she grow too weary. Not often, as you pointed out, as some slaves do get a bit slothful, but that fellow was outright lying to you. No guilder would dare risk valuable stock, no matter the owner, over such a careless statement.
; ; “Where is this…..?
; ; “Oh, bloody hell. Not him,” she groaned, turning to see a short, stocky man that had one eye hidden behind a dark patch, and wore garishly clashing orange and green tunic and breeches respectively as he came striding over to join them.
; ; “Well, well, well. If’n ain’t Mess Agatha herself. Climbed out of your hole, did you, lass,” the short man virtually a dwarf, but not quite sneered.
; ; “Watch your mouth, little man, else I’ll turn you into a used calendar. You know how long you’d last then,” she hissed as Ian and Marion gaped at the pair.
; ; “Posh,” the man snorted, and sneered as one. “Me mum’s would have you flat on your ass, with your legs spread wide for a proper koshing on that frigid slit o’ y’urn if you dared.”
; ; The witch turned on K’Viit, who was doing a poor job of hiding his humor as she glared at him. “You arranged this, didn’t you,” she accused him as the snickering little man strode on over to the short man.
; ; “Well now, I had already suggested Duncan for the job before I even knew you were coming along, didn’t I,” the lycanthrope grinned.
; ; “And you pressed me into coming along,” she hissed. “Knowing that I…..That we…..”
; ; Her wordless cry would have worried anyone else. To the lycanthrope, she merely amused him.
; ; “I take it she doesn’t like him,” Marion asked as the witch stalked off toward their wagon as the caravan master trotted down the growing line, ordering everyone to get mounted, and ready.
; ; “Well, you could say that. They were married about twenty or so years back,” he grinned. “It didn’t end well. The white witch I spoke of earlier? The one that tried to seduce her? ‘Twas Duncan’s mother.”
; ; “Oh, but she looks…..”
; ; Marion rolled her own eyes. “I forgot. Magic workers don’t age like humans.”
; ; “Nor do we wild men,” he winked. “I have to confess, I’m a bit close to ninety myself,” he told her.
; ; “Well,” she smiled as he easily lifted her into her saddle after he followed her to her horse. “I hope I look half so well at that age.”
; ; Jacob chortled. “You’re a rare one yourself, lady. Most folks that spend a night with me tend to be…..a bit upset the next week, or so.”
; ; “I can’t imagine why,” she informed him as he vaulted into his own saddle as Ian led the packhorse to the back of the cart, and tied it on before climbing onto his own mount. From the way he moved, it was obvious he was not very good with the animal.
; ; “Nay,” Jacob asked her in a soft voice as Ian tried not to stare at the two since he was already blushing furiously from overhearing what he had just heard. Marion had let the wolf man have her? She must be wilder than he had imagined, having taken her for a prim mistress despite the fact she barely looked thirty, if a day.
; ; “Nay. I rather enjoyed myself. I’ve not had such a fine bedding in…..Well, I cannot recall,” she smiled.
; ; “Mayhap I’ll give you more to recall ere you must leave our borders, Lady Marion,” he waggled his brows suggestively as he rode on ahead to join the caravan master.
; ; “Ah…Lady Marion,” Ian asked as he trotted up beside her, keeping his voice low. “You do realize that his kind can breed you quite easily in spite of any….precautions you might take?” ; “I know all about K’Viit, captain,” she nodded. “Besides, I’m pretty sure I’m already breeding.”
; ; Ian was pretty sure his jaw had dropped, for it clicked violently when his gelding started forward when Marion’s mare did, and Miranda dutifully started off with her, taking care the leash that stretched between her and the mare didn’t get too taut that she risked being dragged.
; ; Her feet were now clad in soft, but sturdy moccasins that protected her feet, but gave some comfort she knew ordinary slaves wouldn’t have been granted. Even as she found herself growing used to this reversal of roles with her mistress, she also found herself silently thanking the woman for her kindness and thoughtfulness over things she never would have considered in her place.
; ; She said nothing to her, though. For Marion’s last command had been to stay quiet, and not to cause any unnecessary distractions. So silent she remained, and silent she would stay until her mistress lifted the order. The magic upon her insisted upon it. Moments like this, she was oddly grateful for the spell she now understood had been placed upon her for her own protection. She was certain she would have betrayed them by now otherwise, and she truly did wish to get home.
; ; Almost as much as she now wanted to continue serving her mistress.
; ; “Why not have your lass dance for us,” Sir Thomas Clarke, a huge, bear of a man asked as he sat near the main fire in the large camp at the end of the third day on the seemingly endless road they followed. For three days since leaving town, and the coast behind, they had seen nothing but endless, grassy plains. Now, just ahead, were the foothills of the Gray Mountains, and the higher passes that led up, and then over the Spine, as the back of those mountains were called. Then they would be traveling wilder lands before they reached the more settled valleys and plains that bordered distant K’Zir, and lands beyond.
; ; “I would,” Marion remarked idly, staring over at where Miranda now eagerly lapped up some wine someone had poured into her empty bowl to amuse themselves.
; ; “But,” she sighed. “I fear the girl has not yet been taught to dance.”
; ; “Easily remedied,” Thomas told her as his men grinned. “I happen to have a set of bells that, once in place, make the clumsiest wench the finest of dancers so long as she wears them.”
; ; “Hold,” Agatha stepped up, Duncan looking up behind him to see her pointedly ignoring him as she approached Marion when she started to take the small, blue velvet box the man held out to her. “Those wouldn’t happen to be Ra’corra Bells, now would they, sir,” she asked him ominously.
; ; “I should say not,” Thomas sputtered. “Even an old dog like me wouldn’t risk tampering with that accursed alloy,” she was told as Thomas opened the case himself to reveal five, small crystalline bells on small clips meant to be attached to rings, or other such devices.
; ; “You see. Simple dancer’s bells. Enchanted, aye, to bring the wearer skill, and passion, but no more.”
; ; “And by your guild vow, they do not cost the lady her freedom, or her possession?” ; “By my vow,” Thomas nodded as Marion frowned up at Agatha, not understanding.
; ; “Very well. They are safe to take, lady,” Agatha nodded. “By all means, let’s let the girl dance. We need some diversion about here. The night is long, and I’m bored myself.”
; ; “I shall help you get her ready,” Agatha told her as she remained standing beside Marion, who took the case only after she saw Agatha nod at her.
; ; “I appreciate your aid, Mistress Agatha,” she told the magic worker as she took the case, smiled at Thomas, and his waiting men not on sentry duty, and summoned Lady with a quiet command.
; ; The girl leapt to her feet as if anticipating a new treat, following her and Agatha toward the part of camp where a small tent had been set up for Marion’s privacy. Lady was expected to sleep outside on her thin blanket, as all slaves did. So far, none of the men had bothered her. Not even Jacob.
; ; “Not at all, Lady Marion. I just guessed you had little experience preparing a slave for such a duty, and thought I would aid you since you gave me the courtesy of allowing me to ride with you without paying.”
; ; “And ‘tis only Agatha. I bear no titles.”
; ; “Oh,” she murmured, and then shrugged. “Well, I cannot see making you pay simply for riding atop a wagon going in the same direction anyway.”
; ; “Sir Clarke insisted on it,” she scowled. “The dog was ready to make me pay in one manner, or another, did I use one of his carts, or mules for transportation.”
; ; “Well, that’s hardly fair,” she murmured as she held the case holding the five bells, and then simply stood and watched as Agatha eyed the girl, and nodded.
; ; “Mayhap not to you, lady. ‘Tis the way of the world, though. We all pay in one way, or another, for the things we desire.
; ; “Now, first the lass must be naked,” she said, and rather than relaying commands, she simply waved her hand, and Lady gasped as she looked up briefly, blue eyes round in surprise as she found herself abruptly naked save for her collar, and the ring in that plump, bare cleft.
; ; “Aye, I can see what men desire in her. She is quite…..sensual. Her nipples need rings, though, and her ears, I see, have yet to be pierced.”
; ; “Well, I….thought her a bit young for that yet,” Marion smiled, only then realizing how far this deception was actually going as more and more slave tokens were added to Lady’s body with a wave of her hand.
; ; “Don’t worry. I won’t charge you for this service either,” she smiled, taking the first bell, and attaching it to Lady’s left ear as she shivered at the first faint chime of the enchanted bauble.
; ; Lady looked anxiously to Marion as the next ear was so adorned, and then her breasts, and at the end, her cleft. Marion stood before her adorned slave, and smiled. “Aye, she is….beautiful. And I thank you, Agatha. I confess, despite my own….experiences, I would know little of how to prepare my little bird for her debut.”
; ; “Your….little what,” Agatha asked.
; ; “Oh, just something I call her,” she told the witch.
; ; “Well,” Agatha said as she eyed the girl, and nodded critically. “There is something else you should know as the little slave trembled, and smiled wanly as the alien magics began to possess her body, driving her to accept the spell being woven into her very being by the small chimes.
; ; “Aye?” ; “’Tis just, at the end of the dance, the tradition is that the girl goes to share the bed of whomever she stops before at the end. She is not claimed, mind you, but she must accompany the person she stops before at the end.”
; ; “I see,” she murmured. “Can I not simply command her to stop before me?” ; “Tradition expects the favored soul to be other than the slave’s master. Or mistress.”
; ; “I see.”
; ; “I warn you only because I know the lass is yet virgin, and there are men among the merchant’s caravan that would try to claim this beauty for themselves were they so favored.”
; ; “I see. Will you be watching?” ; “Aye,” Agatha nodded thoughtfully, then waved again, and put bangles on Lady’s slender ankles, and wrists in turn.
; ; “Now, a wisp of silk, and she is ready,” she added, and waved again, and a soft rasp of perfumed silks of a translucent green that favored Lady’s coloring perfectly.
; ; Marion stared at the witch, and shook her head. “How do you do that? I did not know such conjuring was possible.”
; ; “Oh, I’m not a Maker, lady,” she chuckled. “I’m just borrowing items from elsewhere that will return once they are no longer in use,” she told her as a veil appeared to mask the enchanted, young slave, giving her an added air of mystery. “Save for her new rings, of course.
; ; “And that is a secret, Lady Marion,” she added, putting her finger to her lips as if to silence her. “None outside the circle know that is but a clever means of saving our greater magics for more important tasks.”
; ; “Then why tell me,” she asked sincerely enough. “I’m not a member of your guild.”
; ; “I tell you, Lady Marion, because of the fact you are a magic holder. I sensed it in you the day you came into the guild office.
; ; “You may not be registered with the guild, or formally trained, but you do possess some manner of magics. What kind, and how strong you might be is unknown. But the power is there.”
; ; “Well, I have been able to….sense things sometimes. But I’ve never managed anything akin to true magic working.”
; ; “Mayhap you just need the training, and a proper stimulus to bring out your gift,” she suggested. “’Tis how most magic makers are tested as to their level of classification. If you wish, I could introduce you to a certain instructor I know who could likely help you understand your gift at the least, even did you not pursue training.”
; ; “Oh. Now, wouldn’t that surprise father,” Marion smiled.
; ; “Certainly. Now, speaking of men, best we get her back ere they grow impatient.”
; ; “Aye,” Marion laughed, gesturing for Lady to follow. “Men, I do know,” she admitted, having been in Lady’s place many times in the past despite being technically free.
; ; Agatha led them back to the main camp, not seeing Marion when she moved close to the young slave, whispering in her ear as she walked toward the circle of men with a graceful ballet that was but a prelude to the enchantment demanding she perform.
; ; When she left her young slave standing alone to take a seat next to Sir Thomas, she smiled as Agatha settled on her right, and didn’t see the expectant leer as the men kept passing the wine around the circle, cheering as Lady stepped in front of the fire, her silhouette backlit through the sheer silk as she curtsied low, and a flute and drum began a soft, discordant harmony off in the darkness as she began to move, every gesture a counterpoint in time as her bells and bangles added to the growing melody.
; ; “You do know,” Agatha told Thomas as he handed the wineskin he had been drinking from to Marion, who surprised her by taking a healthy swallow. “That Lady Marion is carrying K’Viit’s cubs?” ; Thomas almost choked as he frowned, staring from the witch to the perfectly groomed lady who looked little disturbed after three, hard days on the road. If anything, she seemed more beautiful than the first time the merchant had set eyes on the voluptuous blonde, and her tempting child-slave.
; ; “You are….Sir Butler’s mate,” he managed to grit out as he forced himself to stare at the ‘child-slave’ who was looking more than childlike just now as she sped up her pace, arching her body sensually to the right as if bending at the hip each times she swayed.
; ; “Well, I don’t know if he favors me that well,” Marion laughed as she passed the wineskin on, not noticing that Agatha didn’t touch it. “But he did ensure I had an enjoyable time in Kybera this past week,” she told him cryptically.
; ; Thomas swallowed hard as he forced himself to stare only at the dancer now. Any fool knew that you did not trifle with a lycanthrope. Poaching on their territory was akin to suicide, and Thomas Clarke had done many foolish things in his life, but he didn’t intend to add baiting a manbeast to the list. He smiled graciously, passed the wine as it came around, but kept his eyes firmly on the dancing redhead who was looking quite tempting by now as the wine lulled him closer to a pleasant lethargy where the mind told him all things were possible.
; ; “I fear I’ve cost you an admirer,” Agatha leaned over to whisper in Marion’s ear as they watched the girl dance as if enticing each, and every man there.
; ; “Shame on you,” Marion giggled. “Now you’ll spoil my fun, as well as K’Viit’s. You know how men like to posture.”
; ; “You don’t seem to fear him,” Agatha remarked quietly as the wine went past them again.
; ; “Why should I? Besides, recall I told you I could sense things? Well, I knew K’Viit wouldn’t hurt me. The only thing I first feared about him at all was his authority. I’ve never been to Valdor, and one cannot help but….hear things,” she confessed.
; ; “Aye. I suppose ‘tis true of many strange places you’ve yet to see. I’ve never been to the Frankish plains, or T’Goll, and one hears such monstrous things about those lands, too. Or at least, you do here.”
; ; “I suppose some things are truly the same, no matter your place.”
; ; “Aye, lady. Aye.”
; ; The music had reached a fever pitch, as had the dance by then, and Agatha barely glanced up as she saw the girl dancing a frantic circle before Marion now, whipping her short hair back and forth before she moved on with the last beats of the music, and settled into a graceful bowing, head to the ground, before the witch’s feet.
; ; The muttering of the men sounded in the witch’s ears even as she realized what had happened. “Ah, well, this is uncomfortable,” the dark-haired witch said as she looked around at the disappointed men.
; ; “You may borrow my tent,” Marion winked at her. “Enjoy yourselves,” she added.
; ; “You sense things,” she wanted to ask the blonde lady. “Or you make them happen?”
; ; She rose with a faint smile, and took Lady by one hand, leading her away as the virtually naked girl who had stripped all but the last sheer veil from her slender hips followed her on command. Lady Marion was a very curious creature, it seemed, Agatha decided, and chose to glance back at her again, and saw the woman engrossed in conversation with the merchant as his men now looked to their own games, and drink for distraction.
; ; She had merely been politely commenting on Marion’s potential gift earlier. But now she began to wonder. In truth, she began to wonder a great deal as she led the little slave into her lady’s tent, and set her down on the pallet there, and sit before her.
; ; “Now, I want you to understand that…..”
; ; Whatever Agatha would have said was lost when the little wench dove at her, and pressed her lips onto her own, hugging her with thin, yet strong arms as her hot tongue delved deep into the witch’s mouth. Lady might be virgin, but she was certainly not innocent, the woman realized as her body began to react.
; ; Just as quickly, the rush of heat faded, and the slave girl sensed the change in her as she sat up, looking down at her with visible disappointment.
; ; “’Tis not you, Lady,” she smiled at the disappointed slave. “I’m under a sex curse. I doubt you even understand that, but…..only a certain person can truly arouse me.
; ; “Unfortunately,” she sighed. “I’ve yet to meet them.
; ; “Still, mayhap we might enjoy ourselves in other ways,” she asked, her deft hands flashing for a moment with subtle quickness, and producing a deck of Sihja cards. “Would you like to learn to play?” ; Lady nodded eagerly, and eyed the cards like a child studying a new toy.
; ; “’Tis actually quite simple,” she said, and divided the conjured deck into two halves as she began to explain the rules.
; ; “Lady tells me you’re a poor loser,” Marion chortled as the two rode alongside one another the next morning.
; ; Ian had taken to the cart midway through the first day out, his way with ships not translating well into the saddle. That freed the powerful gelding for the magic worker who was quite at home atop the mount that gentled instantly for her.
; ; Agatha glanced back to where the young girl was currently lounging at the back of the loaded cart, her feet kicking off the back as she played a child’s game with the whirling dust.
; ; “She told you what happened, did she,” Agatha sighed.
; ; “Only that you had no love of women, and preferred to pass the time with cards. Which, by the way, she plays quite well.”
; ; “I found out. Had we been playing for stakes, I might well have been in debt to your slave,” she grimaced.
; ; “And thus to me,” Marion asked, then suddenly turned pale.
; ; “Pardon,” she said, and quickly dropped from the saddle, and rushed to the side of the trail they were taking that wound up through the foothills toward the high, mountain pass they were taking. Jacob spotted her as he scouted from before the caravan, and only smiled as his eyes met Agatha’s. The witch said nothing, but did not speak as the lady came back, discretely wiping her mouth.
; ; “Well, there went breakfast,” she sighed in obvious regret. “I vow, it tasted better the first time,” she commented as she climbed back into the saddle, and they quickly caught up to their place in the caravan that had not slowed for them.
; ; Sir Clarke apparently had one rule. Keep up, or be left behind. Stopping on the road in certain parts of the land was still dangerous in spite of the king’s law, and his patrols. He was not one to take chances. Not when his own wealth, and his neck, were collateral for the duke’s properties being taken to market.
; ; Jacob relaxed when he saw them riding up, and turned back to scout ahead as he nodded at the witch who had caught his eye. Marion, meanwhile, went back to their conversation, denying she had purposely managed to get Lady to stop before her. She told her she had merely cautioned her what to expect when she stopped before whomever she did stop before, but she had not told her to pick anyone in particular. Least of all her.
; ; Marion smiled into Agatha’s face as she replied, and for once in her life, she realized she couldn’t tell if someone was lying. For a magic worker of her caliber, that was unsettling.
; ; “So, lady,” a guardsman asked as they finally paused to camp that evening just atop the mount that would lead them to the pass through the mountains in the morning. “Will you pretty lass dance for us again tonight,” the man asked as the prepared to set their camp up in the late evening, dark already catching them since Thomas wanted to reach this flat ground before stopping.
; ; “”Nay,” K’Viit rasped, jumping from a rock as he landed beside them, his amber eyes narrowed as he looked around. “No dancing tonight, lad.
; ; “We’ve stirred a nest of leeches, and we’re about to be attacked.
; ; “Ladies, to the slave carts,” he gestured at Marion, and the others. “’Tis best we put our defense about them, they being the most helpless.”
; ; “Vampires,” someone hissed, having heard the manbeast. “Up here?” ; “They like the dank rocks, and there are plenty of caves,” K’Viit told him. “Sir Clarke, get your men ready, and build those fires high.
; ; “I can’t yet say how many, but I can smell those vile parasites. They’re close.”
; ; “Witch,” Thomas demanded as his men made quick bonfires about them as they all moved to circle the caged slaves who whimpered and moaned at the threat they heard being discussed. “Can you do something to drive them back?” ; “My magics are no good against those walking-corpses,” she admitted grimly. “’Tis brute force, and natural law that will hold us safe this night.
; ; “Remember, go for the heart, or set them aflame. Naught else will kill them, let alone slow them.”
; ; “You heard the woman,” Thomas thundered, forgoing his sword for a short spear. “Any archers, get set to fire your arrows.
; ; “Everyone keep your eyes open…..” ; “And don’t stare at the fires, you lackwitted curs,” Jacob spat as he shifted, rising nearly a full foot in height as he added fur, mass, and height instantly as he took on his true shape before them. “You’ll blind yourselves to the true threat beyond,” he growled.
; ; “Stay back,” he looked at Marion. “This night, you are all that matters to me,” he admitted, and gave her a soft caress with his huge, taloned paw before he bounded out of sight, howling at the night, and the approaching enemy.
; ; “I can’t see them,” someone rasped a few moments later, “But I smell them. God’s mercy, they reek.”
; ; “Close your mouths, and open your eyes, dolts,” Thomas spat even as they heard an unholy shriek, and the loud snarl of a large wolf.
; ; Or wolf-man.
; ; “They’re close, all right,” Agatha said, her dark eyes searching the night. “They’re all around us. We must have camped right in the middle of a nest,” she hissed as Ian Gregory gave a yelp, and dropped on all fours to scramble under one of the three slave carts.
; ; One of the guardsmen gave him a disgusted glance, then turned his eyes back on the darkness that was definitely coming alive now as gray and black silhouettes moved around them. “Here they come,” the man rasped, dipping an arrow he had notched toward a fire.
; ; “Don’t break the circle,” Thomas shouted even as he stabbed forward at a shambling figure with his spear. “Whatever you do, hold your ground, or we’re all worm food.”
; ; “Or worse,” Marion grimaced, her back pressed to the side of another cart as she stood with Lady and Agatha, wishing there were something she could do.
; ; “Only if you taste their diseased blood, or flesh,” Agatha told her quietly. “So don’t try biting them.”
; ; Marion saw the thickness of the growing press even as she heard K’Viit’s vicious snarls as he fought savagely out beyond their view now, obviously in the thick of his own enemy. She knew his lycanthrope form could resist the vampires longer than a mere man, but even he could be brought down if he were wounded badly enough. She just prayed he was strong enough.
; ; She prayed she was strong enough as she clung to Lady, who trembled violently in her arms..
; ; “Can magic truly do nothing against these diseased things,” she asked Agatha as the women stood there helpless as the men began to fight in earnest as the sheer weight of the shambling, hungry corpses animated by the vile disease infecting them pressed ever forward.
; ; “I have never heard of a single spell that could stop them, lady,” she admitted. “If I had such knowledge,” she told her grimly. “I assure you, I would use it.”
; ; Marion said nothing as a man to their right screamed, and fell, pulled off his feet, and into the shambling darkness before torch-bearing freemen could drive them back. Even as she turned to stare in horror at that sight, something ripped Lady from her arms, and she looked up even as her pale legs, kicking frantically, disappeared over the top of the cart.
; ; “Lady,” she screamed.
; ; Then a slave girl inside screamed.
; ; “They’re on top of the carts,” Marion howled, and without thinking, snatched up a fallen short sword, and leapt up to the driver’s bench, and flung herself at the two fleshy demons both trying to be the first to rip open the struggling Lady’s throat for the blood they craved.
; ; She hacked at one of them, and miraculously sent his rotting head flying off in one direction, his body sliding off in another. The other rose to tower over her as she was still only on her knees by then, and she simply drove her blade right into the thing’s chest to the hilt, feeling little resistance as the dead, and desiccated flesh absorbed the blow. Fortunately, she struck the heart, and the thing shuddered, and went still as it fell back into the darkness.
; ; “Mistress,” Lady whimpered, scrambling back to her side as the voiceless hissing of more of the creatures in the rocks around them alerted her to the danger.
; ; “Jump down. Jump,” she shouted as Agatha reached for her. “Thomas, they’re in the rocks over the carts. They’re trying to jump down on top of us,” she shouted as she leapt down after Lady, still holding her sword.
; ; “Archers, target those rocks,” Thomas shouted, knowing the men were not going to listen to the woman just now, as most men wrote off women’s shouts and screams as just hysteria. He had seen the woman leap to her slave’s aid, though, and still couldn’t believe how well she had just slain two leeches without so much as mussing her hair.
; ; “The fires are dying,” someone cried even as arrows were launched into the sky, trying to take down, or drive back the creatures that were now leaping to the carts’ rooftops, and then down in amongst them.
; ; “Nay,” Marion shouted when the sheer press of the mad fighting drove her and Lady apart, and she saw the girl fall into the hands of a parasite who started to jerk her head back. “Not again, not like Sparrow,” she screamed, and Agatha turned at the name, gaping, even as Marion Drake began to glow.
; ; “Not again,” she screamed, and shouted, “LIGHT,” in a voice that suddenly rumbled like thunder across the foothills.
; ; Then everything went dark.