The woman giggled slightly and stepped back. “I have never been called beautiful before. I have to admit, I am slightly nervous as this is my first time. I have saved for many years for this opportunity to have a child. I am nothing but a simple farmhand. I don’t even own this dress. I am—”
Cauly pressed his lips to hers, stopping her mid-sentence to avoid having to think of a response. Knowing that it was her first time and that she was not some stuck-up rich woman, made him feel more at ease to just get on with the task in hand. She was nice, simple and genuine; that was all that mattered to Cauly. And she found him attractive which made him stiffen instantly.
She didn’t move her lips much and suddenly jumped back as Cauly’s cock pressed against her. She giggled nervously. “Can I ask him to do anything I wish, Master Ryder?”
“Of course you can,” Wallace said, using his overly happy business voice.
“Take your tunic off, if you please,” she said in a giggly high-pitched voice, then stepped back a few paces, watching intently.
Cauly smiled and removed his cotton top and looked down at his stomach, making sure to flex the muscles slightly and tense his chest.
“Now show me it, please.”
“What do you mean?” Cauly asked.
Wallace coughed: “Your cock,” he muttered, trying to disguise his words.
“Oh, right. Yeah.” Cauly blurted, catching up. He pulled down his cottons to his thighs and let his hard cock spring up. The woman eyed it intently. He felt himself start to go soft so he gave it a quick rub.
“Cauly,” Wallace said, casually. “Perhaps you should ask the fine lady her name.”
“Oh, yeah. What’s your name?” Cauly asked, trying to remain hard, thankful that his little brother was there to do the thinking.
“Angie. But most people just call me ‘Ange’,” she said, sounding out of breath as she flashed a smile. She walked over to him and reached a hand down to his balls. “Master Ryder, you are sure this will give me a child? Perhaps a strong blue-eyed child?”
“Of course it will,” Cauly’s little brother said as if it was a sure thing. “Like I was saying, he is of pure blue-eyed blood as you asked. And young. He has only seen seventeen years. He is in his prime!”
Don’t get her hopes up, Cauly thought, hearing his brother’s guarantees about gaining a child from all this. He enjoyed the fucking but he didn’t enjoy seeing the hopefulness in the eyes of the women who were desperate to have a family.
Cauly went up to her and put a hand at the neck of her dress, trying to figure out how to get the thing off. It was a complicated maze of strings and buttons.
Relief came when she stepped back and said, “Oh yes, of course. Turn away, if you please.”
This wasn’t how things normally went but he did as he was told. Cauly faced his little brother, who, in turn, flipped his chair around to face the wall. Behind them, lots of sounds of materials rubbing together and the picking of knots could be heard, followed by the whoosh of a draft of air and the flopping sound of clothing hitting the floor.
Ange sang out, “Ready.”
When Cauly turned back around, the large woman had gotten into his bed and under the covers as if she was going to sleep. Her large dress on the floor told him that she was naked under the sheets.
He turned to Wallace for reassurance. His little brother shrugged and nodded. He could almost hear his thoughts saying, “Go for it, bro.”
Wallace
They had stayed close to the Last Mountains for the first two days of travel to ensure that they didn’t get lost in the featureless wastes of the vast desert off to their right as they walked south towards Deca’Herem.
A small chiseled stone in the foot-worn path had the words ‘Molar Tan’ written on it and an arrow pointing west. “I think it’s time that we start heading west,” Wallace said to Cauly.
“How do you know these things?” asked his brother. “We’ve been walking for days and everywhere looks the same.”
“I just know,” Wallace said, a smirk growing on his face, because he was loving the fact he could appear to be more intelligent than he actually was. “Molar Tan is that way, I’m sure. It’s a small town with bazaars and should have somewhere we can stay for the night and get a decent meal.”
They had slept in their small tent for the last two nights eating dried meat that Wallace had bought for their journey from Meltanespear to the capital. The salty meat made them both thirsty but even in the desert this didn’t give much cause for concern as Wallace had planned their route along a moisture farmer’s channel. Every few hours they would pass one of the holes leading to an underground channel of fresh flowing water.
Although they had access to water and shelter, it was a relief to see the pattern of a town in the distance, as they were running low on food. Molar Tan looked quite innocent from a distance: lines of streets, little dots moving around like ants and smoke rising gently from the roofs of some of the buildings. “Now be careful,” Wallace warned. “This place isn’t like Meltanespear. It’s more…rough. Hardly any Last Kingdom guards to keep control.”
“We’ll be alright together, though. You keep me right and I’ll kick the shit out of anybody that comes near us,” his older brother said with a chuckle.
And that system of Wallace doing the thinking and Cauly being the brawn of the partnership was how things worked for the Ryder brothers and it kept them alive—even thriving in some ways. But stories of Molar Tan were worrying. People in Meltanespear said that the Molarian gangsters sometimes used bladed weapons to cut off the fingers of people that owed them money, and that gangs of men went around at night raping and stealing.
Wallace considered that staying the night in the new town would be relatively safe as long as they could get a room in one of the less seedy places. Wallace had investigated and done his research, managing to find out the names of the best inns and rooms from some contacts in Meltanespear.
He pulled out his logbook, running his hand over the pocket-sized brown leather book. To him, it was like a weapon, reasoning that information can get you anywhere, and help you out of any tricky situation. This little book was his sword of parchment bound in leather. He flipped through the pages and found the one on which he’d written the list of inns and rooms.
They passed the first few dwellings of the town, almost exactly the same style of mud sand-colored huts found in Meltanespear. As they went further in, the buildings got larger—some with straight angular walls rising to a roof crowned with a central dome. All were the same color as the sandy streets.
Wallace’s attention remained focused on his logbook. “Perony’s Saloon,” he read off the page. “That’s one of the places we should look out for. Apparently it’s one of the better inns.”
If Perony’s Saloon was one of the nicer places in Molar Tan, then Wallace dreaded to think what the bad ones were like. “This is fucking dodgy,” he muttered out of the side of his mouth to Cauly. “Don’t look at anybody. But don’t look like you’re not trying to look at anybody,” he warned his older brother as they entered the cave-like saloon, then nearly shat himself from fear when one of the serving girls passed dangerously close to being within earshot. The woman passed by without a second glance.
Even though it was highly impractical clothing to walk through the desert and rocky foothills of the Last Mountains in, Wallace was glad that he had chosen to wear his fine, perfectly tailored, sharp, business suit. The tight-fitting black trousers and dark shiny boots made him feel like a true professional. He was sure that he even stood differently when he wore them, for the stiff white collar made him stand straight and tall. However, in a place like this, it probably would have been better to fit in with the mostly scruffy down-at-heel customers.
It had the feel of a cavern—a low dome ceiling that had the typical Last Kingdom-style uneven sandy texture. A central fire roared, with pots hanging over the flames. The serving bar surrounded the fire-pit, making a perfect circle exc
ept for a small gap that the servers used. Pockets of smoke lingered over certain tables—dry-scented odd-smelling smoke like the stuff that billowed out of the doors of puff dens back in Meltanespear.
Normally Wallace wouldn’t be allowed inside such places on account of being deemed to be too young, but judging by the two young boys sitting hunched over on high stools at the serving bar, he doubted that his youthfulness was going to be a problem here.
The serving girl walked past again with an empty tray and caught Cauly’s eyes. His brother looked stunned and could only flick a smile back. She stroked his chin with a finger and then moved past.
The room hummed with conversation in different tones and tongues. People whispering in ears. Others belly laughing as they shouted across the table to each other. And some sat quietly alone in the little coves that ran around the outside of the space, sipping on a drink.
Cauly and Wallace sat themselves down in one of the empty coves on a curving seat cut straight out of the mud wall. The bench tucked underneath a round table. Cauly had to curl his neck a little to keep from banging his head on the low arching roof above.
Wallace looked down at his logbook again, hoping to see a better option. But Perony’s Saloon was on the top of the list. “This shithole is supposedly the best place…and cheapest,” he muttered. “I’ll go to the bar and see if they have any rooms. You stay—”
He stopped talking as the serving girl at the bar caught his eye. She was leaning towards a strange looking blue-eyed woman, who had what looked like blue freckles on her skin. Perhaps the color was as a result of staining from her drink, but Wallace was convinced that the woman had blue lips. Her hair was like fire: not just its color but also its wild shape, like a flame. She had it tied up and slicked into waves and folds.
Still exchanging words, the pair of girls pointed over to the two brothers. Wallace snapped his eyes away and stared at his logbook, pretending to flick through the pages.
“What’s wrong?” Cauly asked.
“Two women by the bar, pointing at us and talking.”
Cauly lifted his head to look. The idiot even stood slightly, making his interest evident. Wallace grabbed his arm and pulled him back down. “What the fuck are you doing? Don’t let them see you looking.”
“Why not?”
“They might be dangerous!”
“Nah,” Cauly said, laughing. “The one with the blue eyes makes me fucking hard! Look what she’s wearing.”
Wallace chanced another look. His heart skipped as he saw the blue-eyed woman was now halfway between the bar and their booth. She slinked over to their table, wearing only small brass cups in the shape of flames over her tits, held together with thin leather straps. Her other private parts were covered with the same sort of brass and leather combination. Her gaze was fixed on Cauly the entire time, which meant Wallace was free to inspect her thoroughly. Pale smooth skin and curves were all on display, right in front of his face. The occasional blue freckle was sprinkled over her, otherwise flawless, skin with most concentrated areas of freckles around her neck and over her cheeks…her face cheeks that is. However, Wallace’s attention tended to drift towards the lady’s more interesting cheeks.
The near-naked woman spoke. “We do not get many like you in these parts, fair blue.”
Cauly just smiled.
“You can buy his services if you want,” Wallace offered, trying to sound confident and businesslike, peeling his eyes away from her tits, so as to make eye-contact.
The woman didn’t make eye-contact back, still fascinated with Cauly. “I do not pay for such things, child.”
“He’s not doing anything for free!” Wallace said, forcing himself to be firm, moving his head closer, trying to grab the attention of the rude bitch…Scary rude bitch…that he really wanted to touch.
“What is your name, fair blue?” she asked, still managing to ignore Wallace.
“Cauly,” his big brother said, too quickly and easily for Wallace’s liking.
“Don’t just tell her your name. You’ve no idea—”
“And what is this one called,” she asked Cauly, pointing at Wallace.
Cauly breathed in to answer—
“—Nate,” Wallace said in a panic. “My name is Nate,” he emphasized, looking at Cauly with wide eyes.
“His name’s Nate,” Cauly said, nodding unconvincingly.
“I get the sense that Nate,” she said, exaggerating the fake name as if she knew it were a lie, “is in charge?”
Cauly laughed, not even attempting to hide information from the stranger.
“I might be,” Wallace said.
“Tell me, Nate. What brings you two boys to Molar Tan? I have not seen you before and I would very much remember a blue like Cauly here.”
Wallace prepared his fake story: “We’re on our way to—”
“—We’re going to the capital,” Cauly jumped in, sliding a little closer to the woman, “and I’m going to be made a lord.”
The woman’s eyes widened. “A lord?!” she said, with a little too much enthusiasm to be genuine.
Cauly had clearly fallen for her act of amazement. He slid closer, smiling—slightly smug. “Yup!”
“A lord would be an impressive title, Blue Cauly. But I have a much better offer for you,” she said, in a mischievous voice then paused. “And for Nate here too, of course.”
“Oh, what’s that?” Cauly said, trying to mimic the game-playing tone in the woman’s voice but failing entirely, making Wallace cringe.
“Have you ever heard of the hive?” the blue-lipped woman asked.
Cauly shook his head. Wallace racked his brains, trying to think of a place called the hive. He didn’t want to show his lack of knowledge so he let the conversation play out between his big brother and the strange woman.
“My mother is in charge of this wonderful place. We dwell in a powerful palace under the mountains; away from the heat of the desert, with running water freely available, with no need for fire to light or heat our bedchambers. And a pretty blue like you would be very popular indeed.”
“What do you mean ‘popular’?” Cauly asked, genuinely not understanding.
“She means you’d get your hole, bro,” Wallace said, bluntly.
The woman smiled, turning to face Wallace properly for the first time. Her eyes were an even sharper, brighter blue than Cauly’s. They were beautiful but at the same time fierce—unnaturally chilling. They locked on to him as if they were arrows and he was a target. “You are a smart little one aren’t you, Nate?”
“That’s why they call me Clever Wal—er…Nate, Clever Nate.” Bollocks! His arse cheeks clenched at his pathetic attempt to be smart.
The woman smirked. “You have a business mind on you. You would get along very well with my mother. She is rich. And there would be a place for you too in her growing empire.”
“Rich?” Wallace asked, focusing on the main word he heard.
Her eyes were unblinking. “Yes! And she is very willing to take those of brown eyes into her service. She rewards them very well indeed with a gift.”
“I don’t want to serve anybody else,” Wallace told her firmly, then turned to his brother, adding, “We do our own thing. Eh, Cauly?”
“Yeah,” Cauly said, his affirmation sounding a bit forced.
“Then perhaps just you, Blue Cauly?” the woman offered.
Wallace’s chest tightened. He had never thought of the two of them ever being split up. There was no doubt in his mind that they would always be together. The two Ryder brothers, taking on the world!
“Nah,” Cauly said.
Relief flooded through Wallace’s body.
“I couldn’t go without my little brother.”
“Brothers?!” the woman exclaimed. “How very strange to see one of brown and one of blue.”
Wallace got up to leave, saying, “So yeah. Neither of us want to go. Thanks for the offer, but we’ve got other business.” He turned to Cauly, who delayed ge
tting up for a few moments. “Come on, Cauly. Let’s go see about getting a room.”
His brother edged his way along the seat and out of the booth.
“Very well,” the woman said, twiddling her fingers along the edge of the table, leaning back and clicking them to order another drink. “My name is Lolita, by the way. I will be here for a few days. Just call if you require anything.” She pressed her lips to her fingers and blew towards Cauly.
Cauly flinched as if something had hit him in the face and Lolita giggled.
The Ryder brothers made their way to the bar. They managed to squeeze in next to one of the boys who was asleep, with his head on the sticky counter, still grasping his drink. Wallace kept Cauly behind him, feeling safer that his back was covered. On the serving side of the bar was a big brown-robed wall of a person serving drinks and ladle-fuls of hot stew from the pots that hung above the large central fire. The barman moved round the curving counter away from Wallace. When he started back towards his money box, Wallace shouted, “Sir.”
An old mizer chuckled from about a quarter of the way round the counter and still the barman didn’t respond.
“Sir!” Wallace shouted, a little louder. This time the barman did turn around, with a scowl as if Wallace had asked him for a tickle of his bollocks.
“If you call me ‘sir’ one more time, I’m going cut that pretty little face into a Molarian-smile, boy!” the barwoman grunted.
The old mizer had a cackle to himself again, his one tooth looking lonely in his large gummy mouth.
“Keep laughing, Gums,” the burly beast of a woman shouted, turning to throw a glass at the wrinkled old man. It clocked him in the face, knocking him from his stool. Not one person in Perony’s Saloon came to help him.
“Miss, I’m sorry for the confusion,” Wallace put his business voice on. “It’s the lighting in here. The lovely mood lighting that you have. I don’t see too well these days. Sandstorm! I was caught in a sandstorm when I was little and now I can barely see two footfalls in front of me.” The lies flew from his mouth like birds being released from a cage.
Snare of the Blood Flower: A novella from A Poisoned Land Page 2