by Sarah Hawke
I was a split second from taking the shot when Aluriel placed a hand on my arm and gestured further down the path with her chin. Four more Roskarim had emerged from the snow-covered trees, and one of them was wearing the bone mask of a shaman.
I bit my lip and lowered my bow. If the two of us had any sense, we would have already been sprinting back across the cliff towards Icewatch. We were only ten miles out from the fortress, and with the aid of a camouflage spell I was confident we could lose any pursuers with relative ease. The problem was that I didn’t want to run—I wanted to fight. We needed to keep the Roskarim off-balance, and the only way to do that was to harass their outlying patrols and convince them that our forces were stronger than they actually were.
“I will take the shaman,” I whispered in Elven. “You take the rider.”
Aluriel nodded dutifully, though I could see the concern in her almond-shaped green eyes. We were already outnumbered four to one, and for all we knew there could have been fifty more Roskarim hiding in the frozen forest nearby. But thankfully she understood the stakes of our mission, and she wasn’t the type to back down from a challenge. I never would have taken her as my lover otherwise.
Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and reached out to the Aether. The ancient runes etched into the limbs of my bow flared to life, and they helped me channel additional power. I didn’t even need to draw from my quiver when I pulled back the string—a glowing Aetheric arrow materialized at my fingertips, and I leaned back over the cliffside and took aim at the shaman. I could sense the faint shimmer of his protective barrier; he was cagey enough to keep his defenses up just in case enemy scouts were on the field. But while the protective spell would have saved him from Aluriel, it wouldn’t save him from me.
“Naur!”
We fired. My shimmering arrow pierced the shaman’s barrier and seared through his chest like a tiny stroke of lightning. He was almost certainly dead before his skull mask shattered on the ground, and I quickly shifted my aim to his companions. A second one died before he realized what was happening, but the third managed to lift his shield and drop to a knee, unaware that my Aetheric arrows could burn through metal as easily as magic. His corpse convulsed on the ground for several seconds as the lingering electrical current crackled though his iron armor.
Aluriel was just as efficient: her first shot struck the wolf rider cleanly in his throat, knocking him from his saddle and causing his mount to bolt off into the forest. She killed two more in rapid succession as the rest dove for cover behind nearby rocks and trees.
Under normal circumstances, I would have gladly held my ground and waited for them to make their move; we had the clear advantage in elevation, weaponry, and skill. But given how many other Roskarim were in the area—and given how far voices could carry through the trees and across the tundra—we simply couldn’t afford to wait.
“Cover me,” I said, sweeping my legs over the edge of the cliff.
“Serrane, you can’t—”
I didn’t bother waiting for her reply. With the Aether still coursing through me, I conjured a stiff gust of wind to slow my thirty yard fall from our perch. I still rolled when I landed, mostly to keep a small profile, and one of the Roskarim was stupid enough to peek out from behind his cover with a throwing axe in hand. My arrow—a normal wooden one this time—pierced his forearm and sent him flopping to the ground and clutching at his crippled limb. I continued dashing forward, tossing aside my bow and drawing my twin elven blades from their shared scabbard on my left hip. Unsurprisingly, the surviving barbarians almost immediately rushed out to greet me.
Their arms were huge and their weapons were even larger, but they had half my speed and a tenth of my training. The first one took a wild sweep across his body, hoping to slice my head from my shoulders, but I easily rolled beneath his swing and slashed a wicked gash in the unprotected flesh on his upper thigh. The second was more cautious; he paused and waited for me to make the first move. Unfortunately for him, I never had the chance: Aluriel shot him in the head the instant I flushed him out of his cover.
The last barbarian should have been smart enough to flee, and if he had I would have let him go. But apparently he was too stupid or too emasculated to recognize a rout when he saw one, so he screamed and charged me with his spear instead. Bracing myself for his attack, I hopped up onto a nearby rock, bolstered my legs with a surge of Aether-enhanced strength, and vaulted up and over him. He barely had time to stop his momentum and turn before I decapitated him.
I forced myself to breath normally and listen for reinforcements as I studied the carnage. Two of the Roskarim were still alive, and I intended to leave them that way. Their comrades needed to understand that lurking this close to Icewatch was a dangerous proposition. Fear was only possible deterrent; perhaps the sight of their maimed comrades would convince the horde to disperse altogether.
Not bloody likely.
After wiping my blades on the snow, I retrieved my bow and dashed towards Aluriel. Her eyes were flicking back and forth across the copse in search of movement.
“Everyone within a mile must have heard their screams,” she said. “And that wolf is probably dragging the body back to whatever camp they came from. We need to get out of here.”
“I know,” I told her, grabbing the piece of parchment I had prepared and tying it to an arrow. I fired it into a nearby tree before sliding the bow over my back.
“You honestly think they’ll heed your warning?” Aluriel asked. “I doubt more than a handful of them can even read.”
“Those that can will spread the message. It’s the best we can do for now.”
I turned and began jogging along the ridgeline. I would have given just about anything to be able to ride Whisper back home, but I had left him tied up in the fortress stables. Stealth had been more important than speed under the circumstances. It still was.
We made excellent time, especially considering the rocky terrain, though I had to call upon the Aether to bolster my stamina on more than one occasion. The fact that Aluriel was able to get by without a magical crutch annoyed me more than it should have.
“I guess we didn’t kick the hornet’s nest after all,” she said once the crumbling walls of Icewatch finally rolled over the horizon. “For a while there I honestly thought they’d send a few dozen wolf riders after us.”
I leaned over and tried to catch my breath. “They’ll come,” I said. “It’s only a matter of time.”
“Yet you still want to send me back to Highwind. Are you sure it’s a good idea?”
I sighed and slouched against a rock. I didn’t really want to send her away, but it wasn’t as if I had any chance. The North had been engulfed in chaos for months, and with the death of Highlord Kastrius—leader of the Knights of the Silver Fist—that chaos would quickly spread to the city. Like me, Kastrius was a member of the Highwind Council; unlike me, he was a legendary hero of the Winter War. The public would take his death hard. Fear would set in quickly, and demagogues across the city would try to fill the vacuum of power.
I probably should have returned to Highwind myself. I was the Ranger-General of the Duskwatch—the city depended on my rangers to protect them against the gnolls of the Duskwood and the orcs of the Shattered Peaks. My mere presence could make a tremendous difference.
But I was a warrior long before I had become a politician, and I wasn’t about to leave the defenders of Icewatch to fend for themselves. We had barely held the line during the battle, but the mercenaries who had helped us—a sorcerer, an amazon, and a former Senosi Huntress of all people—had already left. A handful of beleaguered defenders were all that remained.
And if Icewatch did fall to the Roskarim hordes, a few dead knights would be the least of Highwind’s problems. The barbarians could rampage across the Lastharvest Plains and drive thousands upon thousands of people from their homes. We needed to hold the line. We had to hold the line.
And we would, even if I had to see to it myself.
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“You’ll set out first thing in the morning,” I said. “The Council needs to know exactly what’s going on here.”
Aluriel shrugged. “If the Highlord’s death doesn’t convince them to send help, I have no idea what will.”
“If they’re stubborn, you still have the authority to pull a few dozen rangers from the Duskwood. Make sure they get here as soon as possible.”
She nodded solemnly. “I’ll do what I can. But I still don’t like the idea of you staying here alone.”
I reached out and squeezed her hand. “Come on, let’s get inside the walls. It will be dark soon, and I’d rather not freeze to death.”
***
For better or worse, the people who actually lived in Icewatch were convinced that the Roskarim had been defeated, and life had already started returning to normal. Merchants had returned to the small market near the southern gate, and the servants and laborers who actually kept the “town” running were busy cleaning up the courtyard and repairing the damage.
Least surprisingly of all, the brothel had reopened its doors, and the girls inside were offering discounts to any soldiers who had survived the battle. In a bizarre way, they were probably doing more for the fortress than the men struggling to repair the wall. Desertion rates were usually high after such a bloody battle, but I don’t think we had lost a single soldier. Morale was probably at an all-time high.
“If you’re going to insist I head back to the city, we should do something fun tonight,” Aluriel said as we strolled across the snow-swept courtyard. “Rumor has it the Black Mistress owns the whorehouse—you know her girls will be fun.”
I grinned. “We just spent the whole day fighting barbarians and sprinting across the tundra. Don’t you want to get some rest?”
“Nothing gets the blood pumping quite like a brush with death,” she said. “Though spending a few hours with some young, strapping knights is a close second.”
I shook my head and followed her eyes over to a small group of Silver Fist knights congregating by a cooking fire. The fact they weren’t already inside the brothel was shocking.
“I’m supposed to meet with the Watch Commander first thing in the morning,” I told her. “We’ll just have to wait until I get back to Highwind.”
“Oh, come on! That’s a terrible excuse and you know it.” Aluriel stepped in closer and dragged her finger across my chin. “You haven’t fucked me in weeks!”
“Keep your voice down,” I admonished, stepping away and glancing around. Our relationship wasn’t common knowledge, and I intended to keep it that way. The rest of the Council was already upset with me; the last thing I needed was an inquisition about the fact I was sleeping with my second-in-command.
“We can put on our costumes if it would make you feel better,” Aluriel said, switching to Elven. “I bet the locals would appreciate a visit from a pair of sexy, fun-loving elf sisters.”
“I’m sure they would,” I murmured, glancing back up to the brothel on the hill above us. For the last six months or so, we had been spending our nights on the town dressed up as “Faewyn” and “Laryssa,” a pair of raven-haired elf sisters who would do just about anything for a bit of coin. Aluriel had come up with the idea as a way to allow me to have fun without compromising my position on the Council or my ability to command the Duskwatch. No one could know that Ranger-General Serrane Starwind—one of the most respected and powerful women in the entire region—secretly enjoyed spending her nights out on the town being sodomized by farmers, sailors, and anyone else with coin and a stiff cock.
So far, the plan had worked perfectly. We had “performed” in towns and cities all across the Northern Reaches, usually in seedy taverns and brothels but occasionally in more public settings. I had swallowed more seed and pleasured more cocks in the past six months than in several decades back home in Nelu’Thalas, and I couldn’t deny that the experience had been incredibly…liberating.
But then the Roskarim threat had gotten too serious to ignore. I hadn’t donned my Faewyn costume in several weeks, and I had started to wonder if I should put the whole thing behind me. I had gotten my kicks and had my fun. Perhaps it was time to let it all go.
“I know that look,” Aluriel said. “You’re feeling guilty again, aren’t you?”
I sighed. “No.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“We have more important things to worry about than sating our libidos,” I told her.
“Tell that to our knight friends,” Aluriel said. “They’re the randiest bastards in the whole Northern Reaches, and they seem to do their jobs just fine.”
I chuckled despite myself. Aluriel was easily the most insatiable woman I had ever met. The “old” me never would have deigned to associate with someone so…free-spirited. But then she had kissed me one night while we’d been camping in the Duskwood, and after she’d spent an hour with her head between my legs I couldn’t imagine ever going on patrol without her again. She had opened my eyes to all kinds of pleasures I had denied myself. I hadn’t realized how lonely I had been since leaving Nelu’Thalas…or how well a bunch of rough, anonymous sex could fill that void.
“Some of us don’t need a daily dose of cock to do our jobs properly,” I said.
“I don’t need a daily dose of cock,” Aluriel protested. “Four or five times a week is plenty.”
I rolled my eyes. “This is the real reason I’m sending you back to Highwind. I don’t think you could survive a week out here.”
“Not if you’re going to be a sourpuss. I think you’re getting nervous again. You’re worried someone is going to figure out that Highwind’s ice-cold Ranger-General is actually the biggest slut in—”
I grabbed her wrist before she could finish. “I told you to keep your voice down!”
“Honey, you are hopeless,” Aluriel said. “What’s the point in all this fighting if you don’t get to fuck all the cute knights afterwards?”
I groaned and took a step away from her before anyone saw us touching. I had worked hard to build and maintain a very particular reputation since coming to Highwind. The people of the Northern Reaches were normally quite suspicious of outsiders, but I had demonstrated my skill and competence and risen through the ranks in just a few short years. My rangers respected me, and my enemies feared me. I wasn’t willing to jeopardize that for anything.
The problem is that she isn’t wrong. You’ve had more fun in the past few months than in the past ten, and you’re doing your job better than ever. Faewyn might not really exist, but she has been a life-saver.
“Speaking of cute knights,” Aluriel said, her eyes shifting back to the cooking fire. “You didn’t tell me your special friend had been assigned here.”
I frowned and followed her eyes back to the small cooking fire in the courtyard. Another knight had joined the group, but this one wore a captain’s crest on his tabard. His armor was clean and polished; he obviously hadn’t been here for the battle. The Silver Fist must have sent a few more soldiers to replace Sir Derec and the others who had left with the Highlord’s body…
“I didn’t know,” I whispered. The mere sight of the tall, dark blonde newcomer triggered an anxious flutter in my stomach. “I thought he was still assigned to Riverbend.”
“Evidently not,” Aluriel said, a mischievous smile on her lips. “How lucky for you.”
I nibbled at my lower lip. The Knight-Captain’s name was Julian Cassel, and he was every bit as handsome as the first time Aluriel had introduced me to him six months ago. His square jaw was pockmarked with the perfect amount of stubble, and the sight of his muscular arms sent a delighted shiver down my spine. When I closed my eyes, I swore I could actually feel his strong hands on my thighs…or even better, clasped around my throat.
“I know that look,” Aluriel teased. “You’re already soaked, aren’t you?”
I smacked her shoulder and glared at her. I still hadn’t noticed anyone lurking nearby, and I doubted any of the humans here
spoke Elven. Still, even soft voices could carry surprisingly far across the mostly empty courtyard…
Aluriel giggled impishly. “How many times have you slept with him?”
“I don’t know,” I lied. “A few.”
“Honey, I just said you’re a terrible liar.”
“I’m not like you. I don’t keep count.”
“Does that mean ten times? Twenty?”
I pressed my tongue hard into my cheek. “Probably closer to thirty.”
“Thirty times in six months!” Aluriel said. “I knew you liked him. How many times have you sneaked into his quarters in the Citadel to suck his cock in the middle of the night?”
Three times now. I wish I had done it more.
“Is there a point to this inquisition?” I asked instead.
“Only that if he knew who you were, the two of you might be able to have a real relationship,” Aluriel said. “There wouldn’t be anything scandalous about a knight and a ranger spending time together. It’s not like the public would need to know that you love it when he binds your wrists, gags your mouth, and takes you up the a—”
“Sometimes I honestly wonder how we are even friends,” I groused.
She smirked “Because I know how to get you off in thirty seconds flat.”
“You overestimate yourself, as usual.”
Aluriel’s eyes twinkled. “Is that a challenge?”
I scoffed but smiled anyway. There was no doubt in my mind that she would eagerly push me against the wall and eat me right here if I let her. She had essentially zero inhibitions, as far as I could tell, and the fact it would cause a scandal was only a bonus in her mind. “Chasity is a human virtue,” she liked to say. Elves were polyamorous by nature; we happily fucked anyone we wanted to whenever we wanted to, and we rarely wed.
Whenever we were in costume, Aluriel was usually overjoyed when someone called the guards on us—she was always more than happy to help them “see reason.” That exact scenario had played out the last time we were in Greygale. Three guards had been sent to arrest us for “indecency,” and they had all ended up fucking her face in the tavern basement. By the time they had finished with her, she had been so drenched in their seed I had barely recognized her…