by J A Essen
What was that?
“Princess?”
“It’s alright Breacca. Thank you, but you can take leave now.”
Gathering her things, she grabs the handle of the door and turns, “If you need anything at all.” She smiles weakly, and curtseys before pulling the door closed behind her.
I wait a few moments, and then I let the rage wash over me. Looking into the mirror, the sparkle in my ice-blue eyes is gone and has been replaced with something darker; something more primal. A swirling storm of sapphire now peers out from behind drawn eyelids. I clench my hands and can feel the Vanyali pooling in me in a very different way. Different, but right.
Flinging my fingers open from my clenched fists, a fury of black and indigo Vanyali force is released and rushes across the room, exploding against a chair and sending it rocketing across the room, shattering it into pieces when it impacts the wall. Yes. This feels VERY right.
A knock at the door and a deep male voice break me from my trance and the colors of the room return to normal.
“Edana, may I come in?” It’s my father.
“Just a m-moment.” I stutter as I grab the gown Breacca had laid out on the bed for me and slip it over my head. “Okay, I’m ready.”
My father, King Brennus, is a formidable man, to say the least. He stands a full head taller than me and is as large and strong as the Oaks of Lourde, our family’s sacred forest. His hair falls just on his shoulders and has turned mostly silver, with a hint of his blue, younger days still lingering. His amber eyes are softened this evening, a far cry from their usual sharpness.
“Little one, I’m so sorry.”
We both cross the room and meet in the middle in an embrace I don’t usually garner from him.
After a moment, he pulls me back by my shoulders and looks my face over. Brushing the stray hairs from my cheek, he places a chaste kiss on my forehead and then his eyes begin to scan the room.
“Where is Breacca? Why is she not here tending to you in your time of need?” His voice is hard and grave.
“It’s okay Father. I sent her away for the evening already. I just needed to be alone. I need to work through some feelings on my own.”
“I understand. You should grieve as you see fit. I will leave you now as well; just wanted to make sure that you were being taken care of.”
He runs his large hand over my head and down to my shoulder where he gives it a slight squeeze, before turning to leave.
Yep. THIS is more like what I expected. But not even one tear? Is he trying to be strong for me, or is he just that heartless? Did he not care about Mother? Surely he did.
The day has just been too much for me to handle any longer. Sliding under the blankets on the bed, I wave my hand and put out all the candles at once. The smell of sulfur lingers across the room, and my mind starts formulating a plan. I don’t know how, I don’t know when, but I will make those who took Mother from me pay… and pay dearly.
*****
As the dawn breaks through the windows in my high room, I swing my feet over the edge of the bed and onto the floor. I didn’t sleep much last night, but what I did do was make up my mind. I know exactly what I’m going to do today.
As Breacca brings breakfast in, I’m already dressing in a fitted, brown leather tunic-style piece of armor that is outfitted with green, hardened-leather “leaves” that fall from mid-side to nearly my knees, acting as protection from side impacts. The brown, tough hide leggings are laced up the sides and compliment the protection of the tunic.
“Plans Princess?” I can tell by Breacca’s voice that she’s both curious and concerned.
“Continuing what Mother would have taught me had she not been ripped from me.” I’m short and clipped but do not mean to be. I do it to keep my emotions buried. “I’m sorry, Breacca. I don’t mean to be rude. Will you have breakfast with me?”
“Of course, Princess.”
“Unless my father is around, please quit calling me that. You know how much I despise my title.”
“Sorry, Edana.”
“Much better. Now, can you keep a secret?”
Breacca’s eyes light up, and she scoots her chair around and closer to me. “Of course,” she whispers.
“Good, because I will need someone that I can trust and talk to. I’m going to approach Taranis and request that he train me in hand-to-hand combat and swordsmanship.
She gasps, “Are you certain that is a good idea?”
“Why shouldn’t I?”
“Because you’re a lady, Edana, not a man. I mean physical combat; really? Why would you ever need such learnings?”
“You don’t think I’m strong enough? That I can’t handle it?”
“No, that isn’t what I meant. I just…I mean if that is what you want.”
“Good. Now, do you promise to keep quiet about it if he agrees?”
“Yes, of course, Prin, err, Edana. My word is my promise.”
Finishing the remainder of our breakfast in silence, I run through my head again all the scenarios of my meeting with Taranis. Clearing the small table, Breacca wishes me well and makes herself scarce. Pulling my hair back and twisting it into a quick braid, I ready myself for the coming storm.
Walking through the corridors, I can’t tell if it’s just me, or if people are actively avoiding me. It seems like every time I get in eyesight of someone, they make a quick turn and disappear. Well, whatever. I have more important things to deal with.
Opening the door to the armory, I’m greeted by a young warrior, busy with a sword at the sharpening wheel.
“Good morning, Princess. I’m sorry for your loss. Your mother was a wonderful woman and will be truly missed.”
“Thank you, Taranis.”
Rising from his bow, he’s intimidating, but in a way much different from my father. He’s tall and lean, his muscles taut and rippling under his thin tunic. His hair is deep green and short; barely pulling into a restraint at the back of this head. His eyes are steel blue and mesmerizing.
“I have a favor to ask Taranis, and I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”
“I’m listening,” I can tell I’ve piqued his interest with my straightforwardness.
“I want you to train me.”
“Train you in what?” He ticks his head to the side just the slightest.
“Hand-to-hand combat and swordsmanship.”
He lets out a boisterous laugh, nearly doubling over, but then reels it in quickly.
“You’re serious Princess, aren’t you?”
“Dead serious.”
“May I ask why?” He sits down, and I can see his mind grappling with this idea.
“I have my reasons.” I take a seat near him. “Please Taranis, I need your help. I can’t divulge anything, but I need this done in secret. Will you help me?”
He leans back on his stool, looking me over and running his fingers back and forth across the stubble on his face. Finally, sitting the stool back on all four legs, he leans into me. “Under one condition.”
“Name it.”
“Don’t do anything foolish or hasty.”
“That is why I’m coming to you, Taranis. I want to be prepared.”
“Well then, I have nothing planned for two hours. Let’s get started.”
Chapter 4
3 YEARS LATER…
Faudron
“Your Highness, may I present to you, Faudron, the huntsman you have been looking for.”
Eyeing me up and down, King Nathair laughs at his guard. “This? This is the huntsman of stories from afar? He’s but a boy, barely older than my own son.”
The king, being a man of, shall we say, ample size, grasps for a full loaf of bread and in a blaze of speed, I reach behind my head and into my quiver for an arrow, set it, draw and release. The guards don’t even have a chance to react before the whir of motions play out, and my shot lands; straight through the bread which is now hanging from the arrow stuck into the throne chair, inches from the kin
g’s head.
Mouth agape, King Nathair cuts his eyes to the arrow, still twitching, and then back to me. “How old are you boy?”
“King Nathair, having just celebrated my twenty-fifth cycle, I’m NO boy. I’m from the lands of Yaudron and have traveled eight nights to answer your kingdom’s call for a hero. Now, do you still desire such, or shall I take my leave and return?”
“Brazen and sure of yourself; I like that. Yes, Faudron, I do still require the skills of one such as you for a daunting task. Eight days you say? Surely you require rest and sustenance then. Let my guards show you to quarters, and we shall dine this evening and converse of your deeds before discussing my needs.”
“Very well, your highness.”
I’m escorted out of the throne room and down two corridors before the guards stop in front of a large oaken door. “This is yours while you stay in the kingdom.” One of the nameless guards motions for me to proceed.
Opening the massive door, I’m greeted by a room larger than my family’s entire home. The walls are etched with gold filigree, and deep crimson drapery hangs over the windows. In the center of the room is a bed large enough to hold myself and four maidens. The soaking tub and wash basin are both trimmed in similar filigree, and a large wooden dressing table sits near them.
Perhaps I should drag this adventure out.
Placing my bow, quiver, and satchel on the table, I remove my belt and tunic, laying them across a chair. Taking a piece of string from the satchel, I pull my shoulder length brown hair together and tie it off behind my head. Scanning the room again, I find a polished, full-body mirror leaning against the far wall and stride towards it to check on my three-day-old sword wound from a run-in with some less-than-adequate road thieves.
One of them managed to catch me with a glancing blow of a dagger, but it will be the last time he ever does; I doubt that he made it through the night. As for the other two, well, let’s just say their sword-wielding days are over.
The man staring back at me from the mirror is tired. My green eyes are heavy as I watch my hands run along my dirty, muscled physique, searching for any unknown damage. There, just under the base of the left rib cage, is a deep bruise. Continuing around the lean musculature, those same fingers find the scabbed-over dagger wound.
A knock at the door startles me, and I instinctively grab the stinger still strapped to my leg.
“Yes?”
“Water for your bath, good sir.” A sweet female voice announces her intentions from the other side of the door.
Placing the small sword back into its sheath, I open the door and let her enter. There are actually four young ladies each with two buckets, and they giggle amongst themselves as they fill the tub, each looking, and blushing fully at me and then back to the task at hand. It’s just a body, girls.
“Thank you ladies.”
The redhead inquires, “Anything else we can do for you?” before she bites her bottom lip and rolls it between her teeth, cutting her eyes here and there.
“Well, since you were bold enough to ask, you may stay and give me my bath. The rest of you are free to go.”
Shoulders drop, and there are sighs as the other three young ladies leave the room.
I return to the dressing table and lay my stinger alongside my bow and quiver. Stepping out of my boots, I remove my trousers, and as I turn around I catch the redheaded handmaiden with her mouth slightly drooped and eyes wide. “You were planning on keeping that gown on in the bath?”
“Oh. You want me to …”
“You offered to help,” I cut her sentence off short, “so I expect the job done well and completely.”
I step into the steamy water-filled tub, big enough for three easily, and motion for her to step up to the edge. Grabbing the gown on each side, I begin to slide it up. She raises her hands overhead and allows me to remove the garment completely, revealing a lovely, supple young body. Her skin begins to flush as I run my hands over her cheeks, down her neck and across her breasts, lifting them each in my hands and squeezing gently.
Stepping aside, I help her into the tub, and we sit down together, with her behind me. Grabbing the sponge, she begins working the saipo into a lather and covers my body in it. I have not had a cleaning of this manner in years, and I relish the feel of her petite hands working across my aching muscles. She slides her legs in beside mine, and I can feel her small breasts push against my back as she moves into me, reaching around to clean my chest.
Cleaning down my side, I wince slightly as her left-hand finds the dagger wound and corresponding bruises.
“Sorry,” she apologizes and moves just slightly away.
Grabbing her calves, I pull her all the way back into me, and she puts her hands back on my chest. I place mine on top of hers and begin to slide both sets of hands down and over my taut stomach and continue moving them beneath the water until we connect with my throbbing erection. Placing her hands around my girth, I begin a slow up-and-down motion, removing my hands and placing them on the edges of the tub. Water in the tub begins to slosh as she pumps and twists with her hands all the way up and down my anxious length. Definitely NOT this handmaiden’s first cock.
Closing my eyes, I lean my head to the side, and suddenly I can feel her teeth dragging along my shoulder. The tinge of pain is exhilarating, and I can feel my release building deep inside my body. Standing up, I turn so that I can see her, my cock rigid and wanting for more. “On your knees and continue,” I order her.
Her plump little breasts are squeezed wonderfully between her arms as she reaches up and grabs me once again. With both hands, she begins stroking me with a twisting motion and with me wide-eyed, she takes the crown of my cock into her mouth, her eyes locked onto mine. Her tongue begins exploring the underside and waves of sensation explode throughout my body. “Oh god!” I exclaim, and I release myself into her mouth. She continues stroking my cock, now with firm pulls from the base all the way to her lips, milking every last drop of pleasure from me.
“Job well done, and quite completely I might add.” I’m beyond exhausted now.
“Thank you, sir. Your satisfaction pleases me.”
Pouring a few pitchers of water over our bodies, I rinse us, and we step out of the tub. As I begin drying off, she wraps herself in a towel and walks across the room to a chest and procures some clean, simple clothing for me. “I will get your tunic and trousers cleaned and returned to you, sir.”
“Thank you. That would be appreciated.”
Finished drying and back into clean clothes for the first time in nearly two weeks, I feel relaxed and in need of a good rest. With the handmaiden having taken her leave, I lie down across the bed and let myself drift off.
*****
“And this one,” I raise my tunic up on the right side and reveal an old, long, scar of three parallel lines, beginning on my chest and running down my side, ending on my upper thigh, “was from a creature I can only describe as a cougar-wolf-human crossbreed. It was stealing children from a small village, two days’ journey south of Yaudron, where I live.”
“Quite an impressive history you have Huntsman.” King Nathair takes a large bite of boar’s meat, followed by a chug of mead, and wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. “Now, what do you say we get down to business and discuss the reason you have come all this way.”
“Indeed, your Highness.”
“In recent months, something has been attacking my people in the woods north of the kingdom, near the Mountains of Dubh. I have lost two of my best riders already, and the third that was out with them relayed the story after barely escaping himself.”
I lean back into my chair with my flagon of mead and listen as he continues.
“As he recounts it, from seemingly nowhere, a dark storm rolled in on an otherwise cloudless morning. Pelting rain and high winds made it difficult for the men to get their bearings, so they decided to follow the river’s edge out of the forest, even though it would take them further away from the kin
gdom and make the ride back longer. Suddenly, a creature as large as a bear, but considerably faster, attacked and caught the two men behind him off guard, throwing them from their horses.”
Draining his remaining mead, King Nathair takes a breath and concludes. “My remaining scout from the group knew they were both dead when they hit the ground, the beast standing with a front paw on each. He spurred his horse hard and took off at top speed, barely keeping ahead of the creature trying to chase him down. After several minutes of break-speed, the monster gave in, and as it turned back, the cloud cover immediately broke. He had clear skies all the way back to the castle after that. There is obviously some kind of sorcery going on here in addition to the vicious beast.”
“And the reward for slaying your mysterious sorcerous-beast?” My interest has definitely been piqued; I just hope the reward amount does as well.
King Nathair motions at a pair of his court members and they disappear around a corner, only to re-emerge a moment later carrying a small chest between the two of them. Setting it at the king’s feet, they remove themselves as he reaches down and opens it.
“Five hundred Krillig up front,” he announces as he pulls a large, bulging coin purse and drops it with a thud onto the table beside my plate, “and another five hundred upon receipt of proof of the creature’s death. Bring me its head and there will be an additional bonus.”
A thousand Krillig AND an undisclosed bonus sound like just what I need. Perhaps I can work the redheaded handmaiden in AS the bonus.
“My terms are as follows; your men will escort me to the location where the attacks have been taking place and then they will leave. I will not be responsible for anyone other than myself, nor do I require their idea of help. I don’t need anyone looking over my shoulder or me having to do the same. Do you accept?”
The king offers his hand, and we shake upon our agreement.
“Very well then, I will rest tonight and make preparations in the morning. Have your riders meet me at the front gate of the castle at mid-morning.”
Pushing away from the table, I grab my hefty coin purse and tie it to my side. Dinner has been filling, and my journey thus far has been rewarding on multiple fronts. I stagger slightly as I head to my quarters, the dark mead having wormed its way into my system and taken ahold of me. Sleep will not be far off for me tonight.