The Mark of Gold

by A. S. Etaski

  Elder Rausery, maybe? When she was training with Jael on the Fringe, she was talking about Davrin avoiding Valsharess laws.

  I was also struck by the link between the Deep traders and my Matron-Mother, recalling when I had accompanied the Conceiver on an unplanned stop at my former House as a Red Sister.

  That scroll Mother dangled in front of Wilsira to satisfy her enough to leave the plantation sooner rather than later. She wouldn’t…?

  Well, my Mother could fuck any bua at any time, but she couldn’t keep any accidental issue from such a tryst. Regardless, this portrait didn’t suit my Matron. She was too meek, not that adventurous.

  “If a Vuthra’tern exile made it to Sivaraus,” I said, not yet releasing the bone, “he would be Houseless. Fringe, Low Gate, commoner, or trader. No Matron would take him for a Daughter because her heir would not be recognized by the Court. There is no chance the bua you chased out could be my sire, or not even a grandson of his. None would be registered.”

  Mourn’s tail weaved between trunks and bushes without touching them as we made our way. “I believe you are right, if all the breeding buas are young and meticulously tagged in that way.”

  I heard the swipe but didn’t have a chance to respond.

  “Besides, there are bloodlines with other eye colors beyond red. Surely you have seen evidence of them?”

  “Yes, one Priestess has green eyes.” As we finally left the shade, I hopped from boulder to boulder toward the water, and a grin struck me. “Although, in truth,” I added, “I much prefer Tamuril’s lush leaf color to Tarra’s creepy jade.”

  I waited for his response.

  “Hm, you’ve been that close to the Priestesses?” he rumbled. “My condolences.”

  My grin melted as I frowned at his broad back. You have no idea, merc.

  My grey-robed ally stood up from his seat as we got close and said to me, “Ah. You found him.”

  I smiled. “I did. He was sleeping at the den.”

  Mourn tossed me a look while Gavin’s icy black eyes glanced at the bag gripped in his fist. “If so, I still see a fair haul.”

  The half-blood grunted. “Thank you for beginning the drying in my absence, Deathwalker. I can finish the rest by sunset, then we may leave North to the Great Lake.”

  I shared a glance of confusion with my scholar. “Isn’t that the wrong direction?”

  “Not in the long view. Catching a trade ship to Augran would be the fastest way to get there from here.”

  “A ship?” I echoed. That sounded concerning.

  “Hm,” Gavin said with mild curiosity. “I have never been on a ship.”

  Same. But I wasn’t curious at all. “What about Nightmare?”

  “Horses board passage frequently enough, some vessels have stalls below deck. I imagine the crew will be glad she is a calm one.”

  Maybe too calm. “And we would happen to find a horse ship at the right time?”

  “Likely. Port Fortnight brings the main trade for this side of the Great Lake. Livestock is common.”

  “Wait, this side? Which side?”

  The mercenary didn’t blink. “Southwest.”

  I rubbed my temple, and Gavin tried to help. “I believe there are four major trade ports on the Great Lake. Augran is Southeast, Fortnight is Southwest—”

  “And the two are roughly sixteen days apart,” Mourn interjected with baffling humor, “traveling by horse in fair weather.”

  “What’s so funny about that?” I asked.

  “Fortnight.”

  “So?” I read their expressions and sighed. “I forgot that word.”

  “A time measure,” Gavin said. “Half of one month, or two weeks.”

  I stared. “They named it Port ‘Two Weeks’?”

  “Humans have chosen stranger names,” Mourn said. “It suits.”

  I groaned. Right. This To’vah-krav enjoyed his proper names as much as he loved to count.

  “So,” I pointed in two directions for review. “Augran, that way. Port Fortnight, this way. The other two?”

  Mourn pointed Northeast. “Taiding.”

  I took note. “I have heard of Taiding. The Dwarven city.”

  He nodded then pointed Northwest. “Yong-Ch’hai.”

  Even Gavin was quiet.

  “Did you clear your throat halfway through?” I asked. “Yong what?”

  Mourn looked like he was trying not to laugh. “No, that is the lake city to the North and West. Yong-Ch’hai.”

  “Who lives there?”

  “More Humans. They call the land Yung-An. They are the Yungian breed.”

  I shook my head. “Which breed have I met, then?”

  “Paxian, of Paxia. And Ma’ab, you know.”

  Trying to memorize these new words, I was reminded of my lessons with Shyntre in the Wizard’s Tower. “What is the difference between Yungian and Paxian?”

  “Appearance,” Mourn ticked off on his fingers, “culture, magical lineage. They can interbreed, however.”

  “Hm,” Gavin said. “I have not heard much of Yungians around Manalar, except they are not welcome.”

  “I know.”

  “Why not?” I asked.

  “Their skin is too dark,” Mourn began then clarified, “Not as dark as us. Brown-earth skin.”

  “Like the Zauyrians of the Desert?”

  It was Mourn’s turn to blink. “Ah, well. Yes, but perhaps lighter. And that is an old name. No one on the South Sea will know it.”

  I tried not to stamp my foot. “What is the current one?”

  “Sal-zayr.”

  “Close enough.”

  “Not for Humans over three millennia. Rulers and so-called empires have risen and fallen many times, the Ma’ab are just the newest. Manalar has gone through many identities, the Bishops are the present power.”

  I exhaled, feeling overwhelmed, and looked at the light glinting off the river’s surface with crossed arms. My empty middle gave me a threatening cramp, so I dug into my travel mix and tossed in a mouthful, chewing, preparing my waterskin to take a swig and wash it down. Seeing this, Mourn got started on the other food preservation.

  “So, how long to sail from Port Fortnight to Augran,” I asked, “if it is not two weeks?”

  “In fair weather, half that. Assuming a storm does not rise in the archipelago.”

  I hated storms. The Surface was an uncertain place because of the weather, but Jael was waiting.

  I made a face and continued to eat, resolving to ask about the arky-something when we got closer. “We leave tonight but do not have a bargain.”

  “I know. This can be worked out on the way.”

  Hah. The mercenary was damned sure we’d come to an agreement. Although, if we didn’t, I supposed he could leave us on the shore of the Great Lake and return to “close his contract” on Kurn and Castis.

  Then I was reminded that Gavin was going for sure. He had a task both which he must do and was probably something that the Guild would want. Mourn must have something to gain by introducing them. I was the one with nothing to trade for what I wanted. Nothing I wanted to trade.

  Work it out on the road. We’ll see.

  The Sun was a deep gold while Mourn salted and dried our supplies, hot on our backs and the apparent base of the half-blood’s spells. When the shadows became long and the sky had shifted toward pink, orange, and purple, I aided Gavin in sorting, wrapping, and packing enough food to keep us well-fed for ten or so days if we didn’t gorge. Longer if we supplemented it with further hunting and gathering along the way. I said as much.

  “A good idea,” Mourn agreed. “Good food and water aren’t plentiful on a ship. There will be rats for the horse, but I do not recommend you eat them, and you’ll never catch fish directly off the side. The more you use your own stores below deck during that time, the less you’ll draw attention from the crew.”

  I released a quiet sigh and didn’t comm
ent how I’d most certainly drawn the attention of the innkeeper with my eating.

  “I presume you will provide disguises as well?”

  Mourn nodded. “Necessary.”

  It certainly was, also like the innkeeper.

  Dusk was soon upon us, and while Mourn and I erased signs of our camp by the river, Gavin waited with Nightmare on less rocky ground. Perhaps the other two were as drained as I was with the discussions into which we frequently fell, for we spoke no more the first half of the night. Instead, we focused on making distance with me guiding Nightmare, Gavin sitting behind me, and Mourn jogging beside us.

  The horse would fall apart before she would stop on her own, I knew, and Gavin apparently had a lot to occupy his mind, as he began no inquiries. He would barely touch my sides for balance when the way leaned hard, but otherwise the scholar’s body behind me might as well have been another pack for the attention he drew and the warmth he generated.

  Meanwhile, the Dragonblood did not grow tired or winded for hours at a time. He also didn’t complain. I ate and drank atop the mare but was also the one to speak up and request a stretch-release break. At least he no longer asked me if I needed help, and if he drained his bladder half as much as I needed to, he went somewhere I couldn’t see.

  Eventually, as I must have known it would, my mind wandered around to sex. I had recovered and relaxed enough to feel a tingling blood rush to my crotch against the saddle, although my memories and wishful imaginings were unfocused and shifted readily.

  I drifted in the pure pleasure of mounting an exhausted, sweet-smelling Auslan at last, in listening to those soft moans of submission next to my ear as I lay upon him in my mind’s eye. My hips shifted in the saddle. We shared something I’d never done before, him and me, but had I imagined that I’d seen his aura in truth? That one time? They were such beautiful colors.

  As Nightmare stepped slowly through a deceptively level meadow, I closed my eyes, listening to the horse’s hooves, but in my mind sat on a heavy table, spreading naked, eager thighs for my wizard during a study break in his sire’s library. I was gasping with want even before Shyntre pushed in two fingers together. I writhed and ground my hips as he sucked mercilessly on my clit, refusing to let it go until I heard the pop inside. Magic jumped from those fingertips massaging my cunt from inside, and I shrieked, my body jolted. I saw stars like he’d described, thought I’d pissed all over his face. I hadn’t, but he was no happier about the clean-up.

  “Careful,” Mourn said. “The slope is steep here, but we are close to a road again.”

  “Huh? Oh.”

  My crotch received a couple bounces as I navigated Nightmare, focused on the bone in my glove. It took a while to reach the bottom. I bit the inside of my cheek.

  Finally, on a remote, dirt road formed by cartwheels, I felt Jaunda. She had me bent me over after a wrestling match I’d lost in the Cloister. Again. My limbs locked, her scalding skin and dense weight on my back, the blunt tip of her imminent pole pressed a randy warning on my twitching pucker, which began to yield beneath her lusty growl and the nip on my ear.

  Relax, novice. That’s it. Let’s loosen this tight Noble netherhole for a few Sisters after me this eve. We can all unload some stress.

  Ohhh, Goddess, fuck me, Lead!

  “Stream coming up ahead. Shallow, no bridge.”

  Damnit!

  After the crossing, I resettled my mind in the Cloister.

  Jael was grinning, looking proud of herself as she loomed above me, stark naked and on all fours. She had finally stayed focused long enough to make my slit sing against her mouth, and as a reward, Reishel finally stopped teasing the youngest’s dripping folds with her own tongue and fingers while Gaelan kneeled behind her, stroking the thick, sensuous phallus.

  Bright, burning eyes rolled up as we filled her cunt, and I stared at her lips, so swollen and messy from pleasuring me, as they opened in a moan. She gasped both before and after I leaned up to steal a kiss, pinching and pulling her nipples as she liked. Gaelan fucked her harder, watching us, and I didn’t let up either the kissing or the tit-torture.

  Sharing a mischievous look with Reishel, I watched her lick her fingers and attack the helpless novice from the front and the rear. One hand vigorously rubbed Jael’s stubbled mound, the other screwed two wriggling fingers up her netherhole, twisting her wrist again and again. Jael struggled, protested, but never tried to get away. She was unusually, deliciously vocal when she peaked, sometimes yowling like an animal. Within the privacy of the Cloister, we enjoyed that about her.

  I moaned.

  “Are you well, Sirana?”

  My eyes popped open. It was still dark. I was mostly upright, riding Nightmare along the cart path, surrounded by the overlapping song of night chirpers.

  “Something you ate?” Gavin asked.

  “Uh. No, I am fine. But I could use a stretch break.”

  “Very well.”

  I slowed the mare but looked around baffled. “Where is Mourn?”

  Gavin dismounted first, his bootheel skimming his shovel. “Scented a hunting opportunity, I believe.”

  I landed on the grass feeling my face warm. Scented. I wondered then if the half-blood could smell my arousal on the saddle or knew what the moans meant better than Gavin. Maybe that was why he left. Was he concerned I might ask him to serve me like that? To “scratch an itch” for me?

  Bah. I can do it myself.

  The mercenary would probably ask for payment anyway.

  Gavin did not question my moving deeper into the trees and out of his sight. My guardians were out and waiting patiently on my shoulders as I leaned against a tree, removed my gloves while leaving the talisman inside, and pulled up my belt higher on my waist. Gloves tucked to one side, I pushed down my leathers and reached above me to grip a comfortable branch with one hand, bracing my feet and legs flat and wide.

  Now. Don’t linger too long.

  While my fingers coaxed ever more sensation from me, inside and out, I kept my thoughts fluid as well, exchanging out the Davrin-only scenarios which had kept me aroused in the saddle for hours, refusing to let them wander farther than that.

  Keep it simple. Only pure bloods. Ohhh…

  I tried to keep my breath quiet but needed to suck deep as I shuddered, stroking harder beneath the tree. My cunt drooled and made noise as well. Everything seemed so sensitive, the night breeze was adding its own titillating caresses while I enjoyed my private visions, pushed them harder.

  As they pushed me harder.

  I started by straddling my Consort, welcoming his fertile cock back inside without fear of what might happen. Then, like at the Priestess’s orgy, someone pushed between my shoulder blades, easing me down until I lay belly-to-belly with him, and another Davrin prepared to mount my netherhole. I looked over my shoulder. Grinned. Shyntre couldn’t wait for his turn, and I didn’t want him to.

  As I double-fucked them, another stepped up and grabbed my hair, resting a soft, smooth glans against my lips, nudging until I licked and sucked. I could take another. I lifted my most inviting gaze, and Jaunda pushed her magic pole into my mouth with a throaty moan.

  Oh, Goddess! Fuck!

  “Yes…”

  A little more.

  “Ah, tha’s… good…”

  So close.

  Harder. Fuck me deeper.

  They did.

  The goodness started as one ripple, then others followed. Yes!

  Ripples became waves rolling up from that single point.

  Ah! Ah!

  Sweeping, overwhelming.

  Ahhh, yeahhh….!

  The heated, sweaty pile in my mind’s eye vanished as soon as I came down, not only clutching the branch but practically dangling from it. I wasn’t sure if my lovers had come in my dream, but I certainly had!

  With a long exhale of satisfaction, I got my legs under me, releasing the branch one finger at a time. Flexing my hand, I str
etched my arm, rotating it at the shoulder, then sought a cloth on my belt to quickly wipe down my crotch. Gradually, I noticed there were fewer insects making noise around me, and I paused. Was that from my activity, or was I being watched?

  I once watched Kurn stroke to release from the trees, didn’t I?

  He had looked around paranoid after finishing. Just like this.

  Pursing my lips, I decided Mourn would say something or he wouldn’t; he would show himself or he would stay hidden. Or maybe he wasn’t there at all.

  I cleaned up, sorted out my leathers and gear, and returned to Gavin and Nightmare on the road.

  “That took longer,” he commented.

  I shrugged, mounting up first so he could get behind me. “I needed release so I can focus.”

  “Hm.”

  The mare shifted with his added weight, and I grinned. “Do you want me to be clearer?”

  The death mage paused. “Clearer than acutely active bowels?”

  A laugh escaped me, and I covered my mouth. “No. Not that.”

  “Then I do not want to know.”

  “Aw.” I got the horse moving, feeling much better, alert, and relaxed. “Very well, apprentice.”

  Gavin grunted. “I do not think that suits anymore, do you?”

  “Apologies, you are right.” I considered. “Do you claim ‘master’, now?”

  “No. If anything, I am still a seeker. ‘Apprentice’ is too… small.”

  I smiled with a chagrin he couldn’t see. “Seeker. A learner. Scholar. Mystic, perhaps?”

  “I do not need that many names.”

  I shrugged. “If you are to meet the Guild, you might try several if they do not know Deathwalker. I will watch for the one they respond well to.”

  “Oh, will you?”

  “Unless you are comfortable enough to judge them yourself.”

  Gavin didn’t reply at first. “Then what status have you and me, if they ask?”

  “Allies,” I replied easily. “By choice. This is how I have been thinking of you.”

  He murmured in a way that told me it was good enough for him.