Dennis the Conqueror: A Harem Fantasy (Sword and Sorority Book 1)

by Scot C Morgan

  I heard Nithia chuckle, but I kept my attention on the three townsfolk. I knew the longer they talked the less likely I'd end up having to try to back out of the whole Tara-Alara conversation.

  The first man to speak told me where he stood on the question. "I said, you don't look so tough." I think he meant to shove me. He pushed his hand out in front of me, but didn't actually touch me. "If you didn't have your sword, I could take you down."

  I heard giggles behind me. I glanced to Cormac. He shrugged and grinned, but left me to answer the awkward non-sensical challenge.

  What the man said didn't bother me, but I decided to have a little fun. I stood up abruptly, intentionally knocking my chair hard enough with my leg to shove it with some noise. All three of the townspeople quickly stepped back a few feet, looking up at my Mr. Universe—okay, preliminary qualifier round, maybe—body with surprise and, I was willing to bet, a little fear.

  "Well!" I used the best powerful man voice I had, then I let the anticipation build for what came next.

  I feigned a reach for the sword on the table, which Cormac had told for me to keep. "It's a good thing I have this with me, then. Isn't it?"

  "I-I don't know what I'm sayin'," the man who challenged me said. The three of them backed up, and scrambled around several people, standing and seated, until they got back to their table.

  I felt bad after the fact. They didn't mean any harm and the one man who had the balls—okay, who was stupid drunk enough—to challenge me looked like he was going to wet himself.

  "Maybe I should go apologize," I said, peering across the room to their table.

  Nithia laughed. I turned to her. "No," I said. "I feel kinda bad about it."

  "It's not that," she said, then she pointed at my chest and shoulders.

  I realized I still had on the purple shawl. "Oh, right." I glanced around the room to find the child who'd given the garment to me. She was nowhere to be found. I pulled the shawl off my shoulders. "No wonder they were frightened."

  "No," Cormac said. "Leave 'em alone. That's Seni Bobbins. He's always spouting off on someone. Everyone knows he doesn't mean it. He's dealt with a lot over the years. Too much."

  I could see Seni and his two friends were doing everything possible not to look in my direction. I sat again. "Alright. I suppose he'll have a story to tell, though."

  "He's not so bad," Cormac said. "Catch him when he's sober and you'd like the guy."

  I suggested Seni had the right idea to let loose a little, and Cormac agreed. He ordered a round of drinks for all of us, and we took our time with them, listening to the music and getting to know each other a little better. Thankfully, Tara kept Cormac going with his many tales of travel and adventure. Whenever he finished one, she'd ask him to tell another. He'd seen much more than I had. I didn't want to compare my epic retelling of the time I stayed up all night cramming for an exam on the Russian Revolution and let it be compared to Cormac's story of how for four days he tracked a band of seven servants of the Dark One who'd captured a friend of his, and how he slaughtered three of them before they could draw their swords, then—with the help of his friend he'd freed—proceeded to take down the other four.

  No. I was happy to let him have the floor.

  Tara seemed to relish the stories, though I suspect she'd heard them all before. Ever so often, she'd remind him of a choice detail or two he left out.

  Nithia appeared less enthused, but she didn't seem to mind them too much. I kept checking her expression—as inconspicuously as I could—whenever a particularly gruesome incident came up, or when the Dark One was mentioned. I thought she might have trouble hearing those things, because of what happened to her sister. If the stories bothered her, she kept the fact well hidden. But I continued to watch her as the stories went on over the next hour or so.

  Alara, for whatever reason, seemed to be playing her hand like I was. Whenever someone asked her for a story of her own, she'd throw out a few vague recollections and smoothly redirect the conversation back to Cormac. I realized over the course of the evening that I knew too little about her, despite what she'd told me when we were walking to town. And Nithia, though she'd opened up to me in the bedroom, I knew there was much more to her. But this wasn't the time, evidently, and all I really wanted to do, after facing the dark riders not too long ago, was to relax. One thing I kept wondering about though, was how neither Alara nor Nithia said anything about me being the Guardian. Maybe it's something only she and the sisters of her order are concerned with, I thought. And Nithia, I figured, was probably just following Alara's lead.

  Close to the vest on it. I had no problem with that, considering the whole point of being the guardian was to take on the Dark One. His minions—at least today—yeah, I could handle that, but Sauron or Thanos or whatever fuck-up-everyone-on-the-planet kind of dude he was… No, thanks!

  "Den," Alara said, leaning over to look into my eyes. "Are you okay?"

  "Huh? Oh, yeah. I'm fine. Just thinking."

  It wasn't long until I was feeling the weight of the day. I yawned first, then everyone else at the table followed suit. To be polite, I sat through the last bit of the latest story Cormac was telling.

  "And that's how I got the scar on the back of this arm," he said, raising his arm overhead so we could see. I lost count, but I think it was the eighth or ninth scar he'd mentioned.

  I kept my mouth closed the next time I yawned, not wanting to imply the conversation was boring me. Alara must've noticed anyway. She stood, taking her bag of gold in one hand, and placing her other hand on my shoulder. "I'm tired," she said. "I think I'm going to go to bed. Den, are you coming?"

  Yeah, it was a test—but not the kind I could study for. She was calling me out, but I wasn't sure what she was actually saying. Were we really going to sleep? Did she want some it's-been-a-long-day-fighting-monsters sex? Was I going to look whipped if I went upstairs with her? Did I care enough to turn her down?

  I stood up.

  "Yeah, I'm tired too," I said.

  Tara looked at me. No, I mean, she looked at me. Yeah, that look. She didn't seem to care who noticed…which was everyone at the table, by the way. "Den, do you want me to bring you anything? Room service, I mean."

  Damn! She's got some balls. I'll give her that.

  Maybe it was in my head, but there's a good chance Alara's grip on my shoulder tightened considerably.

  "Oh, no, thanks," I said. "I appreciate the offer, though."

  Alara removed her hand from my shoulder, and I felt the difference. Yeah, she had a death grip on me before. I was conflicted. I didn't want trouble, but I was my own man. Ah, hell, I thought. Couldn't possibly be an issue. "I might take you up on that later, though."

  Oh, crap. Of course, I shouldn't have said that.

  "Oh, yeah," Tara said, smiles til Friday. "I'll hold you to it."

  I glanced to Cormac. He shrugged me off. At least he wasn't going to whack me with his axe for what was going down with his adopted younger sister.

  I glanced to Nithia.

  "Don't look at me," she said. "You said it."

  Alara was already walking toward the stairs.

  Nithia stood up and leaned closer to me, whispering in my ear, "I think she's great. I have no problem with it." She kissed me on the cheek, then waved goodnight to Cormac and Tara before heading to the stairs herself.

  She said 'no problem with it' not 'no problem with her'. That's a green light from Nithia. Okay. This is getting out of hand.

  I think I stood looking like a deer in headlights or something, because Cormac laughed as he too got up from his chair. He turned to Tara. "You go easy on him, okay?"

  "I…" I picked up my sword.

  "Don't forget to grab your heavy little sack," Tara said.

  I grabbed the gold. "See you two tomorrow. Gotta get some rest."

  I left before either of them could respond.

  Chapter 13

  I should've been excited as I reached the top of the stair
s in the inn, but, staring down the hallway I had a sense of dread.

  Maybe I'm overthinking this.

  Or maybe I had just been a dumbass and put a kink in any future ménage à trois where Alara was going to be in the trois.

  This Galderia world is more complicated than college life.

  I walked down the corridor toward the door at the end, knowing on the other side awaited my fate—at least for tonight. Was it going to be a room of riches, of carnal lusts and fawning beauties, giving themselves over to me willingly and eagerly? I took the final steps down the hall, stopping in front of the door to our room. Or was I about to open the gate to wrath and contempt, of soul-sucking damnation at the hands of a vengeful temptress? A demi-goddess wielding that most terrifying of weapons—the cold shoulder.

  As I stood before the door, staring at the handle, it hit me. I'd been drinking.

  I tucked my sword under my armpit and opened the door. Alara was in bed, under the covers. Nithia was on her back, at the foot of the bed, her knees bent. She was laying crosswise. She tossed me a quick wave. The foot of the bed on one side dipped slightly lower than the rest. The post and corner I'd broken off was on the floor a few feet away from the rest of the bed. I grabbed my sword, stepped inside, and placed my small heavy sack—Tara had a way with words—on the half-moon table nearby. Then I shut the door and leaned my sword against the wall.

  "So," I said. Long pause. "Hell of day, huh?"

  Alara didn't bother to look up at me. "Hm." I could tell what she really meant was, you're an asshole.

  Nithia was more kind. She slid off the side of the bed and walked over to me. She still had her savage-land bikini on, but I could tell by the way she came over to me she wanted me to imagine her without it—which I did.

  She wrapped her arms up around my neck and leaned in, pressing her boobs against my chest, giving them a nice squeeze. She gave me a kiss, then leaned back to look at me. "Yes," she said. "It's been a crazy day.

  "Nithia." Alara was still in bed under the covers. "Can you run downstairs and get a few things from the kitchen?"

  Nithia looked back to her, but without letting go of me. "Huh? Oh, yeah. Sure."

  "Some food or something," Alara said. "Den and I want to talk."

  We do?

  Nithia looked up at me, widened her eyes and raised her eyebrows as she shrugged. My mouth opened, but I didn't say anything. I just shook my head, hoping she'd stay.

  She smiled at me and patted my chest, then she walked by me toward the door, gliding her breasts over my arm as she passed.

  I watched her leave. She paused in front of the door to adjust her tan bikini bottom unnecessarily, moving both sides up and inward to reveal her full ass cheeks before putting the cloth down again and giving a ceremonious tug to the tie strings on either side. At the last part, she gave me one of those over-the-shoulder glances—the kind that said, 'Aren't you going to do something about it?'

  I watched the door close behind her after she walked out. Could she have made the situation any more awkward?

  I turned around. "So, what did you want to talk about?"

  "What's wrong with me?" Alara said.

  Huh?

  I went over to the side of the bed and stood next to her. "What do you mean? Nothing's wrong with you."

  She scooted herself up a little on the pillow behind her. The blanket slipped down, revealing enough of her breasts for me to know she wasn't wearing anything—at least up top. "Then why did you ignore me downstairs?"

  "Ignore you? I didn't…"

  Okay. I admit it. I definitely was giving most of my attention to Tara.

  She gave me don't-bullshit-me eyes.

  "I, uh."

  I sat on the bed beside her. "Look, you don't need to worry about Tara. She's got nothing on you. Hell, you're the first woman I ever slept with." That just kinda slipped out.

  Alara's eyes lit up. "What? You mean…?"

  "Yep."

  She looked like she didn't believe me. "That can't be true. I saw you with all those women, on your world."

  "Uh, yeah. About that."

  She sat up the rest of the way. The blanket gave up the fight against her massive breasts, surrendering to their need to be seen. Okay, maybe I was the one that needed to see them. Either way, I was glad the blanket fell down.

  "You were saying?" She nudged me with her hand. Apparently I'd lost my train of thought.

  "Oh, sorry." I nodded toward her boobs. No need to hide it, I figured. Besides, she wanted me to want her. So, I was just being a stand-up guy by ogling her. Right? She looked at me with her beautiful emerald-colored eyes. I could tell she needed me to rescue her from her doubt…about us. I decided to take a chance and see what happened.

  I took a deep breath and started from the beginning—at least before I threw up on Professor Bad-timing in the middle of class—where I came from, what college was, where I worked, why she saw all the images of Conan and fighting and beautiful women in peril. She didn't say a word the whole time. I knew I was blowing her mind. Probably completely disappointing her. Certainly freaking her the fuck out. She'd summoned a college sophomore who'd never been laid, never been in a fight, and whose only adventuring had been an occasional late-night trip to the Perry-Castañeda Library on campus.

  "And that's how I ended up here," I said, finishing my story.

  "I…" She stared at me. I stared back at her, mostly. I might've glanced at her boobs too.

  I could tell she was trying to wrap her head around it all. Finally she spoke again. "What is pizza?" I'd mentioned how great it was at the place I worked.

  I laughed. "That's your response?"

  "I don't know," she said. "I'm confused. You say you aren't a hero, but you are. I mean, look at you. And look what you've done."

  She was right, in a way. I looked the part. And against the dark riders, I acted the part. Maybe I didn't always feel like a hero, but did a hero always feel like he was one?

  I scrambled for an explanation. "Somehow, your magic-"

  "You mean my prayers to the gods?"

  "Yeah, that. Somehow, you did it. You brought me here and turned me into this."

  She looked down at the cover for a moment, then back up to me. "The gods wouldn't have guided me to you, if you weren't a champion. It's in your blood."

  I started to argue with her, but she held a finger to my lips and slightly shook her head. Then she put her hand on my chest. "In here."

  I didn't want to say it, but I felt warm and gooey inside. She was my first, and even after I spilled the beans to her about how mundane my life was before coming to Galderia she stood by her opinion that I was the hero the land needed—the hero she needed.

  "So, you believe me now?" I said. "I mean, when I tell you there's nothing to worry about between you and me." I had the sense that opening up to her, being vulnerable, ironically had made our connection stronger. Maybe that's the way it's supposed to be?

  She smiled and slowly nodded. I could see the worry disappearing from her face. She looked at me like I was quenching a thirst she'd had all her life. Her breathing was smooth, but deep. I noticed her mountainous breasts rising and falling. The rhythm was almost hypnotic.

  "Well," I said, "let me make absolutely sure you don't have any more doubt." I grinned and did a quick up down with my eyebrows.

  "Yes." Her eyes widened. "I think you should do whatever it takes." She pulled the covers back, revealing the rest of her body. She was completely naked. Maybe she had planned to sleep that way. Maybe she'd hoped for this outcome to our little talk. I didn't know which was the case. Either way, I wasn't complaining.

  First I scanned her from head to toe. Well, okay, I think my eyes only made it down to her crotch. I ran my fingers over one of her nipples, then gave her breast a squeeze. She reacted by slightly arching her back, sounding the faintest of moans—but I could tell it was genuine. I propped myself up with one arm, leaning halfway over her. Then I ran my hand down, exploring her ne
ther region. She slowly squirmed as I did, signaling I was doing exactly what she wanted.

  Her eyes closed and she nodded her head faintly. So, I kept going. After ten or twenty seconds, I noticed her breathing became much more rapid. I almost stopped when I saw a white glow emanating from the bottom edge of her eyes. They were still shut. I recalled seeing the glow when we were fighting the dark riders.

  "You, okay?" I asked.

  "Oh, yeah." She didn't open her eyes, but the glow continued. Her massive mounds undulated and shifted as she squirmed from head to…toe—presumably. I could feel the heat radiating from her into my increasingly wet hand.

  I was more than a little concerned that some sex magic was about to fuck me up, but I hoped for the best and went for broke—knowing to stop now would be a huge disappointment to her.

  Three things came at once. She cried out, "Yes!" Her eyes opened, shooting white light into the ceiling. And…Yeah.

  "Holy, shit." The white blast of energy billowed out as it struck the ceiling, but it didn't seem to do any damage. Then, just as everything else had come to an end, so did it—vanishing.

  Alara looked at me with her once-again mesmerizing emerald eyes.

  I wanted to ask her why the hell light was shooting from her eyes a second ago, but I thought I'd ease into it. "You good?"

  She chuckled, still breathing heavy. "Good? That was wonderful, Den." She rolled onto her side and wrapped her arm loosely around my mid-section. "Thank you."

  "Of course," I said. "I do have a question, though."

  "Anything."

  "Did you happen to notice that white fucking light shooting out of your eyes? I mean, I know it was good and all, but what the holy hell?"

  She looked at the ceiling, then glanced around the room. "What? No. What are you talking about?"

  Well, I'm not dead. I glanced at the ceiling. Didn't seem to actually do anything.

  "Nevermind. Maybe I was seeing things," I said.

  She looked unsatisfied with my response, but I didn't want to get sidetracked with the conversation. I know, pretty foolish thing to ignore, but while she apparently just had one of the best finishes in memory, I was poised at the starting line. Her naked body was before me, and I was determined to have a go at winning a medal too. And I knew she'd be up for another run.