And then there was the problem of her betrothed. A betrothal meant she wasn't a maid--betrothals were sealed with more than a kiss. That made things more difficult; he'd have qualms about bedding a virgin, and qualms might steady his nerves, so to speak. Promised partners could do anything with anyone else that wouldn't result in a child, though agreements between the betrothed varied. Antony didn't know what kind of agreements Jennia and this soldier had, and he couldn't afford to find out; the sparks flying between him and the girl threatened to burn him alive.
He had to get rid of her. But if he got rid of her, what would happen to her? No, he had to protect her or he'd never forgive himself. But how to protect his heart? Dolf ambled over to a tempting patch of grass; Antony frowned and picked up the reins. "Hey," he said, flicking them across the big horse's back, "knock that off. Keep us on the straight and narrow track, friend." Dolf gave him as sour a look as a horse could give, twitched his ears and did as his master bid. "Good boy."
How was Antony to keep himself on the straight and narrow? Maybe there was a way to have her and not hold her, to keep her safe and yet at arm's distance. He'd had traveling companions, but he hadn't really thought of them as such. They were models for his business. They were paid by the performance, not in shares, and he found himself quite able to keep them at arm's length even though he'd enthusiastically bedded them all. When they'd gotten too clingy, he'd dumped them off the wagon in the nearest town--always with their pay but nothing of himself. Easy.
That's what he'd do. He'd offer Jennia a job as his model, just until she'd found her Starveling, or Starburst, or whatever his name was. The sex charms always sold well, but he sold out of everything--sex, love and money charms, everything in his stock--when he had a model at a showing. He could sell bags of dirt with the right girl. Jennia was that kind of girl, beautiful, passionate and lively. The role would place her in a tidy, unemotional, businesslike slot in his life. It worked out for everyone.
Antony gave Dolf an affectionate smack on the rear with the reins. "Let's up the pace, buddy, and find us a nice place to camp outside town while we sort all this out."
Chapter Two: A Bargain
When Jennia awoke, the wagon no longer swayed; they must have stopped. Was it safe to come out? She listened for sounds of people and activity, but heard only birds, a stream running not far away, and the occasional crackle of burning wood. Smoke and cooking came to her nose; she was starving, and whatever it was smelled delicious. She hazarded a look out the half-door; Dolf the horse was cropping the grass close by and stopped to give her a measuring look. Apart from him and a circle of trees, nothing and no one else was in sight.
Her bodice had slipped down; she must have tossed in her sleep. She tugged it back into place and shimmied to settle her breasts into it. She thought she caught a glance of Antony peering through the front door of the wagon, but when she straightened up he wasn't there. Perhaps she'd imagined it. When she emerged from the wagon, blinking in the afternoon sun, Antony was sitting on a camp stool eating out of a bowl. "A little something. I don't know about you, but I'm too hungry to make it to the next town. Help yourself," he said, gesturing to a bowl and spoon sitting on the porch.
Jennia ladled out a helping of what turned out to be a thick porridge cooked with a handful of vegetables and chunks of ham. It went down wonderfully well, and the two ate in silence, concentrating on their bowls. "That was delicious, thank you," she said when she finished.
"You're quite welcome." Antony set his bowl down on the ground. "I wonder, though, if you'll thank me for my next proposition."
"Oh? What kind of proposition?" she frowned.
"I'm willing to help you find your soldier boy--wait," he said, holding up his hand against her thanks. "I'm running a substantial risk helping you. If I'm caught harboring a runaway apprentice, I'm liable. I can't pay the fine, so they'd stick me in jail. I'd lose my Mages Guild membership--"
"You're in the Guild?" sniffed Jennia. "I thought you were a hedge mage." His set jaw showed she'd stung him, and she resisted a strong urge to apologize. Whatever he was proposing was likely to be along the lines of Willet's little proposals, and she wasn't having it--though a little voice in the back of her mind said she wouldn't at all mind having it. "Anyway, what do you want?"
"If I hide you, you have to make it worth my while." Here it comes, she thought. "I need an assistant."
"What kind of assistant?"
"Someone to demonstrate my wares."
"How d'you demonstrate a love charm? Make someone in the crowd fall in love with you? Like you could get that to happen even with a charm."
Antony's glare held a strange sort of satisfaction in it. "Thanks, you're making this much easier. No, my sex charms. I'll give you your own set. They never wear off or stop working. You'll have them for life, and you and your mister will thank me for them even when you're old and gray."
"I've never seen or even heard of one," she said, blushing. "What do they do? I thought such a thing would be like a love charm."
"You've never seen or heard of them because they're my own secret spells." Antony fished in his pocket and brought out three balls; many colors winked and swirled on their surfaces, like opals. Together, they filled his palm.
"What do you do with them?"
Antony smiled, and she felt suddenly naked. "I should love to show you. But I'm not going to give these to you unless you agree to become my assistant. Demonstrate the toys at our stops along the way, and I'll pay you five silvers each time."
Jennia began to guess what such a demonstration would entail. "Tell me what I'd have to do."
"Your hair would be covered and you'd wear a mask. No one would be able to tell who you are," he said reassuringly. "But you can wear nothing else."
"Naked? In front of you?" Her sex grew warm and wet. She tried not to shift on her stool.
"In front of everyone," he purred.
To her horror, that thought aroused Jennia even more. "And then what?"
"And then you apply these."
"But you wouldn't touch me--you won't make me have sex with you in front of a crowd of people?"
Antony's look pinned her to the spot. "If we ever fuck, darling, it won't be in front of a crowd." He waved the thought away. "But don't worry about it. I don't usually fuck my assistants. And the whole point of my toys is that you don't need another person."
She was profoundly aroused; so was he, judging by his breeches, but he didn't seem to notice or care. "How do you apply them?" she said.
"Do you agree?"
"How can I agree if I don't know how they work, or if they'll hurt me, or if they'll leave me bespelled or something?"
Antony considered the empty bowl at his feet for a moment. "Would you believe me if I swore on my Guild pledge?"
"Absolutely!" she gasped, surprised he'd say such a thing. Swearing on one's Guild pledge was serious business. No one would dare break a Guild pledge--or make such a pledge at all if they weren't a Guild member--for fear of bringing down the curse that went with it.
"Very well, then." Antony stood up; the sudden solemnity of the moment drove her to her feet as well. He took her hands. "I swear on my Mages Guild pledge that these charms will neither harm you nor leave you bespelled." They stared at one another. His hostility--his outright scorn--was gone, replaced with a searching intensity that made her knees weak.
"Antony," she faltered.
"Yes or no? Do you come with me as my assistant, or do I leave you in the next village?"
"If you leave me, Romnel will catch me!"
"Do you come with me as my assistant, or do I--"
"All right! All right! I'll be your assistant."
He smiled and dropped her hands at last, leaving the three balls in her palm. "I'll show you how these work then, shall I. Open your bodice."
"Right here?" she gasped.
Antony shrugged. "Unless you're the kind of girl who faints when she comes, in which case we'd better go in."
>
Coming in public? Moisture trickled down her thigh. Never had such a thing occurred to her. What had she gotten herself into? Whatever it was, she'd never been more excited in her life. "I--I think we'd better go in."
"As you wish." He followed her into the wagon.
Jennia sat down nervously on the bed, placed the three charms beside her, and undid the drawstring ribbon of her chemise with trembling fingers. "Must you look?"
"You're going to do this in front of a tentful of people. Get used to it." She let her chemise fall open and wiggled her breasts free of her bodice. Anthony's face was hidden in shadow. She dared not look at him anyway lest he see how very aroused she was, but then he had to see how hard her nipples were. "Put one at your breast."
How could she do that? The charms were round--was she to roll them against her? Jennia picked one of them up and placed it against her nipple.
The charm's cold surface began to warm against her skin, melting and oozing between her fingers like wax. It molded itself around her breast and squeezed, soft at first and then firm, as if a hand massaged her. Still squeezing, the charm began to suck at her nipple. Jennia cried out in fear, surprise and intense pleasure, staring down at the pulsing toy encasing her breast. "Now the other one," said Anthony; his dark voice went straight to her clitoris, and she trembled as she picked up a second charm and placed it against her. Instantly it flowed around her breast and she closed her eyes in ecstasy.
Strong, knowing hands and clever mouths worked at her, electric shivers ghosting over her entire body. Perhaps she might faint. She braced herself on the bed; her breathing came faster, and she flushed in heat. Her sex felt swollen, aching for touch. The charms suckled and squeezed, and she thought she might come from that alone. "The last one," growled Antony.
"Wh-where?" she managed to gasp.
"Against your clit."
Jennia frantically groped on the bed beside her for the third ball and finally forced her eyes open to find it--there. Her hand closed around its smooth roundness. "Do as I tell you," he said. She pushed up her skirts and placed the final ball between her legs.
The charm melted against her, a sensation she knew she'd remember in every fantasy she would have ever again. It stroked her lips, tickling inside them, slipping molten tendrils just within her opening. She fell back on the bed, trembling, and spread her legs wide to give the charm full access. Anything it wanted, anything. The charms at her breasts pulled and pinched, the suckling more demanding, and now the charm at her sex lapped at her until it fastened on her clitoris. She stifled her first scream until the tendrils exploring her coalesced, hardened and plunged into her. The second scream burst out with her first orgasm.
The toys worked at her as she thrashed on the bed; ghost mouths and hands mauled her breasts as the charm's cock fucked her. Anthony had sworn she would not be bespelled, but she thought she must be; she wanted to stay in this frenzy forever. The toy in her cunt fucked her harder, reaching deep within her to a spot that sent her arching up off the bed. She sobbed and cried as Antony's toys pushed her through orgasm after orgasm until finally she collapsed in a swoon on the bed. The charms gradually slowed, their caresses soothing, until they flowed from her body and remade themselves into three shiny balls sitting inert beside her.
"You'll do," said Antony abruptly. He turned and left the wagon.
Jennia lay there recovering her breath; her pounding heart slowed gradually. Never had she come like that before. It had been as if three men were making love to her at the same time, all of them matching her wants perfectly, knowing exactly how and when to touch her, to pinch her, to suckle her, bite her and fuck her senseless, when to be gentle and when to be demanding. As she drifted in the afterglow, she knew she'd imagined all three were Antony.
Her eyes snapped open. She'd said his name. When the charm entered her and she'd come the first time, she'd screamed his name. She prayed he hadn't noticed.
Antony walked double-time into the woods, as if he were going to relieve himself. In a way, he was.
As soon as he was out of sight, he fished a charm of his own from his waistcoat pocket, opened his breeches and pulled his cock free. Never had it been so hard. He put the opalescent toy against it, and it encased his cock and balls like a glove. The charm began to suck and pull at him, playing with his foreskin, rolling his balls. He groaned and flexed his hips in pleasure. Throughout the scene just concluded, Antony had barely controlled himself. He'd wanted to push aside the charms molded to the girl and taste those round rosy breasts himself. Yes, Jennia would suck his cock just like this, better, even--as good as his toys were, they were never as good as the real thing. She'd take all of him down her throat to his belly and she'd love it. And then he'd ram inside her cunt and fuck her until she screamed. Except he would make her scream louder, he'd make her scream his name--
She had screamed his name.
Antony braced himself against a tree, the bark scraping his long fingers. All he could see was the girl on the bed, moaning his name and thrashing, her skin flushed pink as she rode out waves of climaxes. Had she really said his name, or was it just a mindless, garbled wail? "Oh, gods, Jennia," he whispered through clenched teeth. He swallowed a shout and spasmed into the charm's grip.
"Dammit," he muttered as soon as he had enough breath. Any other girl, he would have taken his pleasure on her as soon as she'd finished. But not her. She was betrothed for one, and he didn't want her like that for another; fucking her wasn't enough. He hadn't even touched her, and that girl had her hooks deep into him. How had it happened? The sun hadn't gone down on them once yet.
The toy reformed itself, taking his sperm with it, and he rolled the sphere in his hand before he put it back in his waistcoat pocket. He couldn't abandon Jennia, and he couldn't leave her alone; if she stayed long enough he knew he'd make love with her and break her betrothal to the soldier. If she didn't marry the soldier, then she'd remain a fugitive from the Weavers Guild, or...or Antony would have to marry her himself. He walked back to the camp, shaking off the horrifying, appealing thought.
Antony had to get her to Starret before it was too late--for either of them.
Antony decided to stay put for the night. They ate more of the same porridge, heated over the fire and refreshed with red wine and herbs. Neither of them said much, avoiding each other's eyes. When the meal was finished, she took the bowls and rinsed them in the leftover hot water; he scrubbed out the porridge pot.
"That's the last of my supplies," said Antony as he put the pot back over the coals to dry. "I don't carry much food--I don't have room--and I wasn't expecting a second mouth to feed."
"Oh. I'm sorry," she said.
"Eh, I've got money and you don't eat that much. We'll stock up at the next town. I'm, ah, fairly sure that our presentation tomorrow will bring in plenty to pay your way."
This was the only reference made to the afternoon "training" session. Antony banked the fire and took a bedroll out into the clearing. "I often sleep outside on nights like this," he said.
"I suppose you want to keep an eye on Dolf, make sure no one steals him."
"No one is stupid enough to steal a horse from a mage, right, Dolf?" The horse opened a sleepy eye and shook his mane.
Jennia laughed. "It's like he understands you."
"He does understand me," said Antony. "He was the last guy who tried to steal a horse from me, huh, big fella?"
"You were a human?" gasped Jennia. Dolf dipped his massive head up and down. She looked at Antony with newfound respect. "I must ask--why are you selling charms on the road like a hedge mage if you can do magics like that?"
"No, in fact, you mustn't ask," Antony snapped. "Go into the wagon and get some sleep. Tomorrow is our first performance together." He lay down on his bedroll and turned his back on her.
"Fine," she grumbled.
Once in the wagon, Jennia stripped naked and climbed under the blankets, folding back the quilts until only the sheet covered her on this warm ni
ght. The bed smelled of Antony, a mix of fresh air, hay, smoke, skin musk and the lavender he must store the sheets in. The afternoon's events came back to her; she was almost tempted to find those wicked charms and use them again, but she'd never be able to stay quiet enough. He'd know, and she didn't want him knowing.
What she really wanted was to call him into the wagon and let him love her as his charms had. As good as they were, she knew sex with Antony would be even better. She thought he'd take her when the charms released her. But he'd made it clear: this was business. Fine, she'd keep it business.
She began to drift off into sleep, and so told herself the truths she'd forget when she woke. When she found Starret, she had to get rid of those charms. Antony's touch lived in them, either literally or in her fevered imagination. Either way, when they parted she could bear no reminders of him other than the ones she already carried in her heart.
Chapter Three: A Performance
They hit the road as soon as the sun peeped over the horizon, Jennia on the fold-out chair by the door, Antony on the doorsill and Dolf between the shafts, pulling them along at a leisurely trot. The next town was just three miles away, and Antony hadn't exaggerated: there was nothing left in the larder but cooking herbs, tea leaves, a chewy but edible cheese rind and a handful of nuts in the shell. "At least the horse is fed," said Jennia as they jogged along.
Antony cracked a walnut between the heels of his hands and gave her the meat. "We'll be there in an hour. Think you can survive until then?" A loud rumble from his stomach undercut his sarcasm, and he winced.
Jennia handed back the nutmeat. "Mustn't faint while you're holding the reins."
"Eh, Dolf knows where we're going." He popped the nut into his mouth and cracked her another one.
"Where are we going?"
"Rabny Ford. Haven't been through there in a year. Last trip, ah, that was a good time."
The Mage's Toy (Aria Afton Presents) Page 2