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

by Scot C Morgan

  I shared my curiosity with the others and that set off a series of conversations. Cormac recounted some of the peoples he'd fought alongside in distant lands, describing some of their peculiar ways, such as the Fektals north of a town called Tiern, across the Sea of Ronak. They once lived in much greater numbers, spreading down the coastline across the sea, but had been culled over thirty years by the Dark One, as he rose to power and expanded his domain. The Fektals, Cormac said, lived in small tribes of no more than twenty people, each separating themselves geographically from the other tribes by a mile or so. But despite this pattern of living, they maintained an intense sense of solidarity with the other tribes, joining together whenever a great labor or an outside threat required their efforts in greater numbers. "It is thought," Cormac said, "they struggled to meet the Dark One's forces as he cleaved the routes between different clusters of tribes. They survive still," he said. "But they seem to have migrated away from the coastal areas, moving to the more remote regions of the north."

  Monica tried her best to make the sororities of UT Austin sound equally serious. I kept my amusement to myself out of respect for her current predicament and the emotional havoc I was sure that was playing on her. She had everyone's attention as she talked about the close ties the girls in her sorority had with one another and the activities they did together. She left out the wild parties I knew her sorority engaged in. I would have been more interested in those tales, but to Alara and the others, the day-to-day of college sorority life somehow seemed interesting. After hearing her for a while, it hit me—maybe if I'd paid more attention to what the girls at college were interested in I would've had more success in the dating department, I thought. Well, all it took was traveling to another planet and becoming a He-man barbarian savior. Chicks dig that too, I guess.

  The walk was long, yes. But we managed to avoid most of the hills by following a series of valleys which ran between the mountains. We took fresh water from creeks on more than one occasion, and the weather was mild—only once raining. The shower was short-lived and appreciated by everyone. It felt good to wash the dust and sweat from our bodies. It came upon us suddenly. None of us had our cloaks on. We were carrying them atop the packs on our backs. Cormac let out a quiet chuckle when he saw me observing how the rain-soaked tops clung to all four women. Feeling no shame in taking in the beauty of nature, I shrugged in response to him.

  Cormac had loaded us up with ample food for the trip. Everyone carried some, though his load and mine were, of course, heavier than the girls' packs. We camped by fire each night, supplementing the food we'd brought with rabbit one night and something like wild boar the next. We had Tara and her skill with her bow to thank for those meals. Cormac, Tara, and I took shifts on watch each night, while Alara, Nithia, and Monica slept through.

  The time we spent together—walking, sharing stories and meals, looking out for one another—brought us closer. I got the sense the women were indeed forming a kind of sisterhood. Alara had been wanting to fill the void left when the women of her order were slain. Monica was used to having her sorority, and now had the closest thing to it she could hope for in her short time here. Nithia and Tara seemed to be adapting to the arrangement, despite lacking experience being part of a tight-knit group of women. Nithia rarely spoke of her sister, but I guessed joining up with Alara—who spent as many years with her as Nithia had—made Nithia feel close to her sister in some way.

  Cormac and I were a couple of guys ready to take on whatever came our way. I wasn't looking for trouble, but I got the impression he might be…for old time sake. But he was good company, and a strong arm to have on our side. We both appreciated the company of the women in our own ways, but even though he clearly noticed their allure, he never once made a play for any of them. He seemed to respect that Alara, Nithia, and I were in a thing. As for Monica, we both knew to give her space on that front. And Tara was basically his adopted younger sister, which made her ongoing flirting with me in his presence awkward, but nobody could tell Tara what to do, it seemed.

  "There it is." Cormac raised his hand with fingers pointing toward a town in the distance. It was at the end of the descending plain we now walked on, having just come over a small hill. The late afternoon sun shimmered off the many small buildings which were clustered together in a rough circle, the edges of which were clipped from view by trees on slightly elevated land. The town extended what looked like a considerable distance—it was hard to tell exactly how far from where we were—to the edge of the sea.

  "Oh, thank you!" Monica said, so loud we all looked at her. "Sorry," she said, "but I'm really not an outdoorsy type."

  "Well, I wouldn't have known," Nithia said. "You seemed to take it well the last few days."

  Monica shrugged. "I didn't have a choice—unless I stayed in Darguna—but now that we're here…I'm really hoping they have a hotel with a spa."

  "A what?" Tara asked.

  "Huh," I said. Is she serious?

  Monica looked at each of our incredulous faces. "Not a thing here?"

  Alara and I both shook our head.

  "Probably not a thing," I said.

  We made our way down to the edge of town. Pertlass was much larger than Darguna. By the time we reached the most outlying buildings—some houses and a couple of artisan shops—I could see nothing but more of the town ahead of me as far as I looked. The dirt roads and small buildings—some wood, some stone, thatched roofs and tiled roofs—went on to my left and to my right blending into the trees at each side of town. Unlike Darguna, Pertlass was filled with people. Nearly every street had several people walking around, doing their business, talking to one another, going wherever it was they were going. Our arrival went unnoticed among the scores of other people who were milling about just in the area where we were.

  Seeing that many people in Galderia for the first time gave me a better sense of the range of what passed for normal clothes. Turns out the savage-land bikini outfits Alara and Nithia wore weren't unique, but more of the women in Pertlass dressed in skirts and more modest tops. Though, I admit, only two or three of the women I saw could pull off the Cimmerian two-piece outfits Alara and Nithia were rocking. Basically everyone looked like the extras in the Guy Ritchie King Arthur movie—a little dingy, OId-World-looking, but not too authentic to any period in the history I was familiar with. And the way that everything looked like it might smell in that movie, yeah, it smelled about like that—not great. Evidently, if there was a spa in town, most people didn't go there very often.

  We made our way into the heart of the town. I kept an eye out for the tower Alara had said we'd find. It wasn't long before I spotted it—the top of it rising above the surrounding buildings. Alara saw it too. It looked to be several streets away still.

  I pointed to the top of the tower in the distance. "That's where Alara said we might find her."

  "What do we know about that place?" Nithia asked.

  Alara glanced at me. I could tell she didn't know quite what to say. I didn't want to scare Monica or Nithia, but they needed to know we were likely heading into a dangerous situation.

  Cormac spoke up. "That place is the last place in town we want to be found." He looked past Tara to me. "But we're going there, aren't we?"

  I shrugged. "Wouldn't be a rescue if it was easy, right?"

  Cormac chuckled and nodded.

  "What do we actually know about the place?" Tara asked, quickening her step to place herself back between Cormac and me.

  "I've heard rumors," Cormac said. "A number of the bad men I've encountered—the kind who'd kill you for nothing more than looking at them wrong or just to pass some time—they mentioned the Pertlass tower…fondly."

  "Oh, that's just great," Monica said. She looked at Cormac and me, then to Tara, Nithia, and Alara. "And we're going to stroll in there and save the girl?"

  "You're right, Monica," I said. "It's probably too dangerous."

  "Duh," she said. "But we can't leave her there, though."<
br />
  I shook my head. "Nobody said anything about leaving her. Alara.”

  "Yes, Den."

  "We're going to find a place for you four to stay. Cormac and I will go into the tower."

  "I'm going too," Tara said. "You guys need me."

  "Tara," Cormac said. "Maybe Den is right. We don't know what we'll face in there."

  "Going," she said.

  Alara held her silver staff up. "Not exactly helpless here either. I don't think you two-"

  "Three," Tara interrupted.

  "Three," Alara continued, "going in is going to be enough. That place is bound to have guards…and who knows what."

  "We're getting ahead of ourselves," Nithia. "We should try to find out more about the place before anyone tries to get inside."

  "She has a point," Monica said.

  Cormac looked as if he'd thought of something pleasant. "The local tavern."

  "Yes," I said. "The tower will have a reputation. Someone there might give us some dirt on the place."

  "Dirt?" Tara asked.

  "It means some information," Monica said.

  "Oh, right." Tara nodded, and looked as if she was adding the word to a mental list.

  We walked the streets for a few more minutes, eventually asking one of the many locals we came upon where we might find the local watering hole.

  "Travelers, eh?" the grizzly man said. He wore brown pants and a faded brown shirt—a hole in it over his left elbow. His hair was greasy and he showed his yellowed chipped teeth when he smiled at us. "Well, you're in luck, friends." He staggered briefly, before putting his hands out to his sides to regain his balance. "The Jagged Blade serves the strongest drink this side of the sea." He laughed and I could smell the proof of his words on his breath. He clearly knew what he was talking about.

  Oh, that sounds like a nice place.

  "Could you tell us how to get there?" I asked.

  "Sure," he said. He pointed to a nearby building. "It's just…No." He looked around and pointed to another building. "No." Finally, he turned again to face the road ahead of us, which veered off to the right. "Yes. That's the way. Not far."

  "Thanks," I said, a little wary about the quality of his directions.

  "Yes. Thank you," Nithia said, sounding more genuinely appreciative than I did.

  He smiled. Then his expression shifted, taking on a serious look. He leaned in close to me. I held my breath to cope with the smell. "Watch your step in there. Some wretched ones in there. You hear me?"

  I nodded, not wanting to let any air exchange. Wretched hive of scum and villainy. Got it.

  He leaned back, then smiled again. "Welcome to Pertlass!" He laughed, finishing it with a wet cough—thankfully after he'd stumbled himself around. He raised his hand to gesture goodbye as he walked away from us.

  We found the place a few minutes later. The man's directions had been on the mark despite his condition. I figured he had been there so often he had a sense for where it was, even if he couldn't walk straight.

  The namesake hung above the door, one end of the sword slightly lower because of the loose link in the black chain which held it dangling from two iron hooks in the heavy beam which braced the awning atop two thick wooden posts. The blade—indeed jagged from chinks and chips which seemed to have come from heavy use in the weapon's past life—faced down toward any would-be customer. I took it as a clear warning of what might await on the other side of the door, but I hoped my imagination was overstepping the reality.

  "What a quaint place," Tara said, stepping in front of me and reaching for the handle.

  "Yeah, quaint." I rolled my eyes, but I doubt anyone noticed. I glanced to Monica and she was staring at the sword. Alara and Nithia were behind me. Cormac had his hands on his hips and a big grin on his face. He looked like he didn't have a care in the world and was eager to enjoy himself.

  Maybe he has the right idea.

  As Tara pulled the door open, someone barreled into it from the other side, knocking her back into me. She tipped back onto her heels and I caught her with my arms underneath hers. The wide-waisted man plodded out and stepped through our company without a word, though he did grumble considerably. I heard him continue as he walked off.

  Tara looked up at me, still propped up on my arms. "Thanks, hero." She shifted her feet to stand upright, quickly moving her chest forward before I pulled my arms away from her. "Ooh," she said, as she pressed her boobs into my hands with her first step away from me. I dropped my arms, shaking my head.

  "You two done yet?" Alara poked me in the back with one finger.

  I didn't answer, instead moving through the doorway behind Tara and Cormac, hoping for less jeopardy inside.

  Little did I know, within twenty minutes I'd regret visiting the Jagged Blade.

  Chapter 29

  It all started decent enough. The place was busy, lively even. At first glance, I didn't see anything too alarming. The place was bigger than Cormac's—about twenty tables and a bar which ran around two sides of the room. Only a few heads turned when we walked in, but nobody stopped doing what they were doing—conversations, laughter, back slapping, an arm-wrestling match, some pinching of the asses of two admittedly fine waitresses, and a man in the corner of the room playing a stringed instrument I didn't recognize. He had a young woman leaning against his shoulder, giving him groupie eyes.

  We moved through the crowd—most seated, some were standing or milling about—eventually taking our places at a large round empty table near the back. I was a concerned when we'd first entered how everyone would react to my sheathed sword, and to Cormac's axe, which he had slung over his back with the leather strap attached. Evidently it was an open-carry town. A third of the other patrons had weapons of their own. Not one person gave us a sideways glance. We all unslung our packs and placed them on the floor in the corner behind our table, where nobody could get to them without passing us first. Not only had we brought our food, but my pack, Nithia’s, and Alara's—and probably Cormac's—had a fair amount of coin hidden inside, thanks to Cormac's generosity.

  We decided it best to blend in as much as possible before hitting up anyone for word about the tower compound. A woman came over and we ordered drinks and some food to snack on—a hunk of cheese, some bread, and a bowl of nuts.

  I could see Cormac was checking out the room. He seemed to be judging the layout and admiring how busy the place was. Monica sat beside me, scooting her chair close to mine. I didn't take it as a come on. I could see she was anxious about being in the tavern. I caught her eyes darting around the room in response to each overly loud noise.

  "Don't worry," I said, leaning closer to her. "They're just having a good time."

  She placed her hand on the back of my wrist without making eye contact with me. "I know," she said, unconvincingly.

  Nithia seemed to be listening to the music, zeroing in on it through the chatter in the room, which was considerable. Her head gently bobbed with the rhythm of the tune. The corners of her mouth curled slightly, and Alara had to nudge her to get her to respond when the waitress asked if she needed another drink.

  "Oh, no. Thank you," she said, looking up to the woman. Then she settled back into the music.

  Alara remained watchful, scanning the room, as if on guard. She didn't look tense, but I could tell she was focused on making sure we weren't caught off guard. I had no problem with that plan and was glad she was keeping a lookout.

  Cormac managed to finish three glasses of grog while the rest of us were still working on our first or second. I didn't say anything about it, though. He was a big guy, and I guessed he knew how to handle his drink.

  Tara made a show of reaching across the table to the bowl of nuts in front of me and taking a large one in her fingers. She looked me in the eyes as she drew it to her lips and opened her mouth just enough to hold it halfway inside, pressing her lips on it, then pushing the tip of her tongue out slightly around the side of it to caress it.

  I couldn't help
but grin at her flirtation. It was so overt it was comical…but also effective. A moment later she released the nut into her mouth and rolled it around so that one of her cheeks bulged out. I saw her swallow to clear the saliva no doubt built up in her mouth, but she kept the nut pressed to the inside of her right cheek. "Mmm. Good nut," she said. Then she bit into it and slowly chewed it.

  I stood up before Tara put me in a predicament which would keep me from doing so in front of everyone. "Okay. I'm going to see if anyone can tell us anything about the tower."

  Cormac and Alara nodded. Monica reluctantly slid her arm off my wrist as I stood. Nithia was still caught up listening to the music across the room. Tara stood too.

  "I'll go with you," she said, taking another nut from the bowl and popping it into her mouth.

  "Alright," I said, knowing it would be hard to tell her to stay at the table. She practically skipped around the table to meet me, looping her arm around mine when she stepped beside me. "So," she said, looking around the room, "who should we try first?"

  "Maybe the bartender. Just let me do the talking. Okay?"

  "I'll be a good girl. I promise." She rubbed the side of her face against my shoulder, like a cat marking her territory.

  "Somehow I'm not so sure."

  We walked between the tables, heading for where the bartender was serving someone.

  I heard a loud smack.

  "Hey!" Tara snapped her head to her right, looking back at a man we'd just passed. "Not yours!"

  I turned to see the offender, who was laughing now. He was a small man, with a patchy beard. His hairline was receding and he had a bad complexion.