He’d been with dozens of human women, but never another half-elf. One drunken night a few years earlier he and Yordan had kissed, but they had stopped immediately upon realizing what they were doing.
“Not to be boastful…” he said, feeling a grin tug at the corner of his mouth, “but I could probably show you a thing or two.”
Her eyes seemed to light up and Randall felt a curious sensation which he was completely unaccustomed to feeling. It was almost like he was hungry, or thirsty, or anxious, yet it was nothing like those things and precisely like all of them at the same time.
“By all means,” she undid the belt of her robe and let it slip from her shoulders, revealing her heavily-muscled yet incredibly feminine physique which she pressed hungrily against his body, “enlighten me.”
So he set out to do precisely that.
Two minutes later, Randall was completely at a loss for what had just transpired.
“What was that?” he asked, literally shaking all over and more than a little concerned for his own well-being.
“That,” she replied with a giggle, “was celerity unlike any I had expected.”
“No, really,” he said between panting breaths, “what in the name of all the gods was that?”
“It truly was thy first?” she asked, making no attempt to hide her amusement. “I thought thou had experience in such matters…”
“I do!” he protested, sitting bolt upright. “But I’ve never had that happen before…I thought it was impossible for half-elven men?”
“Star children, please,” she chided. “And it is not impossible, no,” she continued with a shake of her head, “but it does require certain…preparations be made prior to the attempt.”
“You mean…” he breathed, remembering the foul-smelling pouch, “that crap is responsible for this?!” He looked down at his naked manhood, which for the first time in his entire life had spent its vigor—and far more quickly than he’d ever imagined possible!
“I would not demean it so,” she scolded lightly, tracing her fingers along the lines of his torso, “for without its aid there would be little point to your engaging in the act of love.”
Randall’s mind raced with the realization that half-elven men need not live their entire lives without experiencing what he had just felt. The experience had been more than a little disconcerting, but it had also been surprisingly satisfying. He no longer felt the strange, hungry sensation which had welled up inside him at seeing her naked flesh. In fact, he felt so relaxed and contented that he might have been able to sleep for days if he just closed his eyes for a moment.
But he was too excited by what he had just learned. “Does this mean I can…father children?” he asked hopefully.
Cavulus shook her head. “Sadly, it does not,” she said as the night wind shook the tent gently, and the grass outside rustled serenely. “Thou can never sire offspring, even with the benefit of Hlyriuvli extract. It is a curse which our kind must bear and for that thou hast my sympathy.”
Slightly deflated at hearing her say so, Randall was nevertheless overwhelmed at the prospect of using the Hlyriuvli extract in the future.
“How long does it last?” he asked in wonderment.
She shrugged. “A single dose might grant thee…release,” she laughed, in spite of her obvious desire not to do so, “for three or four days’ time.”
“Wow…” he marveled stupidly. “Why isn’t this stuff known about? I mean, Three Rivers is almost a quarter half-elv—er, star children,” he corrected. “This stuff would be worth its weight in…well, not ‘gold,’ but it would certainly be valuable!” Then something occurred to him. “Wait a minute,” he sat upright, looking into her eyes for a long moment before continuing, “you’re…not the real Ser Cavulus, are you?”
She shook her head. “I am the bearer of Rimidalv, and I served as Squire to the White Blade under Ser Cavulus,” she explained. “But no, I am not he who fell beneath the slopes of Mount Gamour.”
Randall nodded slowly as countless questions came to his mind. “So who—“
She placed a finger to his lips. “I would tell thee that my name is Yaerilys, and ask for no further queries this night.” Leaning back against the canvas floor of the tent and exposing herself completely in the flickering lantern light, she challenged, “Unless thou believes thyself incapable of rallying from such a…disappointing start?”
Randall felt himself blush as he took her in his arms. “I’ll let you be the judge of that,” he said playfully before planting a long, passionate kiss on her perfect, moist lips before working his way down her hard, powerful body.
While certainly unexpected, what followed was easily the most incredible, exhilarating encounter Randall could have ever dreamed to have with a woman. Several hours—and thrice as many consummations—later, they collapsed from mutual exhaustion in each other’s arms.
Chapter XXV: So…About Last Night
22-13-5-659
Neither of them slept that night, but they lay awake in mutual silence for several hours before Yaerilys breathed a long, contented sigh. “I thank thee, Randall,” she said as her powerfully muscular arms wrapped around his chest and squeezed him tightly. “It has been far too long since last I did thusly.”
He returned her embrace and breathed a sigh of his own. “Well, you’ve got me there…because I’ve never done ‘thusly’ in my entire life,” he said with a contented sigh.
“But thou clearly knows much of how to please a woman,” she said skeptically.
He nodded. “In Three Rivers I’ve…known a few women,” he admitted, “but I’ve never actually…well, let’s just say the experience was less enjoyable for me than it was for them. Not that I’m complaining,” he added, “it was always nice and their coin spent well enough.”
Yaerilys shook her head before nuzzling against his armpit. “I had heard of such places, but did not wish to believe them true,” she said with obvious empathy. “I would end such cruelty were it in my power to do so.”
“It wasn’t ‘cruelty’,” he said pointedly, “it might not have been fair, but my experience tells me that very little in life ever is. Besides,” he added with a coy grin, “it allowed me to perfect my technique.”
She breathed another airy sigh. “It did, at that,” she agreed with a mischievous smile.
“So…” Randall began, uncertain how to ask the seemingly endless string of questions he had for her.
“Thou would know many things, Randall,” she said somewhat distantly, “and while I vow to do my utmost in answering thy questions, I cannot guarantee that I will be able…or permitted, to do so.”
“What does that mean?” he asked after hearing such an unexpected thing. “Who wouldn’t ‘permit’ you to answer a few questions?”
She looked up at him searchingly and after several seconds, she shook her head. “It is not thusly with the blade thou carries with thee?”
Randall shook his head adamantly. “Not at all…at least, not that I’m aware of,” he added belatedly. He wondered just what was in store for him as his ‘bond’ with Dan’Moread strengthened.
Yaerilys laid her head back down on his chest and they sat in silence for several seconds before she spoke again. “To carry a White Blade in service of our world is a great honor,” she explained absently, “and such honor brings a price.”
Randall decided he very much disliked what he was hearing. “What kind of price?”
“Rimidalv is the Blade of Absolute Good, often called ‘The Incorruptible,” she replied hesitantly. “To be worthy of him one must become pure and cleansed of corruption…lest that corruption stain the White Blade forever.” She shook her head and laughed lightly. “I served as Squire to Rimidalv for two years prior to bearing him in hand. I have long known the price required in the service of such a noble aim, but I assure thee that I am quite contented with my vows,” she said seriously.
Unwilling to ruin what was quite possibly the greatest night of his adu
lt life, Randall left that topic alone for the time being. “What actually happened to Ser Cavulus?”
She hesitated for several seconds before shaking her head. “I ought not to speak of it,” Yaerilys said. “It is a thing of the past, and the past can only weigh us down.”
More than a little troubled at her reluctance to delve into that subject as well, Randall thought about some of the other questions he had. “Where is it we’re going, exactly?” he asked, hoping to find a topic which was not forbidden.
Yaerilys stood and stretched luxuriously for several seconds before Randall noticed just how warm the tent felt inside. Making her way over to her discarded armor, Yaerilys opened one of the small pouches which were hung from the armor’s waist and returned with it. “Thy destination is an ancient city nestled high in the mountain range the Federation calls ‘The Binding Chain’.”
“What is this?” he asked, feeling the contents of the bag as Yaerilys lowered herself to the floor beside him, draping one leg over his chest while propping herself up on her elbow as she played with his feet. The sensitivity of half-elven feet was something most humans could never understand, and as she began to caress up and down the sole of his foot he felt his entire body relax.
“There is coin within,” she explained, “for thou hast little of it and I have little use for it. There are also other items thou might find useful upon arrival, including a map inscribed upon a miniature stone tablet. I fear we must part ways before reaching thy destination, but we shall continue in each other’s company for a little while more.”
“Thanks…” Randall said, actually feeling crestfallen at the notion of breaking company with the group, especially now. “I really don’t know how to thank you for everything you’ve done.”
“Thou hast already thanked me,” she said before nibbling playfully on his toes. “But I would hope that, for however long we remain in each other’s company, thou might share my tent during the night?”
Randall cracked a grin. “You’d have to bar the door if you wanted otherwise.”
“Good,” she said as she continued to caress his feet, and he only then realized he had been doing the same to her. “Dawn approaches, and it would be uncouth for us to be seen in this manner outside the privacy of the pavilion. Would thou care to help me back into my armor?”
“Well, sure…after I’m finished with you,” he said before tackling her—much to her delight—and discovering that he did, indeed, have a second wind.
Dawn came as it always did. But long before then Randall had helped Yaerilys back into her white steel armor, including the helmet which made her sound almost inhuman.
Stepping out from the tent just as the first rays of sunlight came streaming down, she turned and inclined her head. “I thank thee for thy assistance, Randall,” she said in a voice that seemed to carry across the rolling plains. “We shall speak again this eve.”
“I’d like that,” Randall agreed, feeling more than a little awkward at the duplicity of it all.
The White Knight turned and made her way to the campfire, where Drexil and Eckol were preparing the morning and midday meals.
Randall picked up Dan’Moread and strapped it across his back before breaking the tent down. When he had done so, he lugged the heavy, cumbersome pavilion back to the wagon. Once there, he began his daily routine of exercises like Drexil had instructed.
Nearly an hour later Randall was feeling thoroughly beat, having completed his sword drills, wagon-sitting, and had even run up and down the nearby hills. So the smell of spiced meats wafting up from the campfire was more than a little enticing.
Making his way over to the fire, he saw Ravilich approach with a plate full of food in his hand. The Squire held the plate out for Randall, who made to accept it just as Ravilich dropped it to the ground—clearly on purpose.
“What is your problem?!” Randall growled, pushing up against the other man. The human had a significant height advantage on Randall, but that didn’t make him back down. Drexil and Eckol stood up from the opposite side of the fire, and both men began to wordless call for Randall and Ravilich to calm down.
“Thou art my problem,” Ravilich spat. “Thou know nothing of sacrifice, and even less of honor!”
“Break it up,” Drexil boomed as he shoved the two aside as though they were nothing but children. “Now!”
At his insistence, Randall ceased pressing forward but Ravilich’s eyes were smoldering with anger. He made to open his mouth, clearly intending to hurl more insults but he stopped for some reason before a sound passed his lips. Clamping his mouth shut, he turned and stomped away from the campfire.
“What was that about, lad?” Drexil asked under his breath.
Randall shrugged spitefully before bending down to pick up his food. “I’ll be damned to the pits if I know,” he growled, but then a thought occurred to him and he paused.
He supposed it was possible that Ravilich had some prior relationship with Yaerilys, but if that was the case then why wouldn’t she have asked for him last night?
Even more confused than he had been, Randall finished picking up his food and sat down beside the fire as he ate it in sullen silence.
After they had finished riding for the day, Randall estimated it would be another week at least before they reached the nearest mountain’s slopes.
He got down from Storm Chaser and began his evening routine of exercises. He drew Dan’Moread out from its sheath and began practicing the positions Drexil had showed him.
After just a few minutes he felt his scalp tingle. When nothing untoward happened for a few seconds, he realized the sword must have been trying to contact him. So he closed his eyes and emptied his mind, almost immediately making contact with Dan’Moread.
I trust you are able to concentrate on more important matters with your ‘engagement’ now concluded? Dan’Moread said.
“Well, about that,” Randall began to explain as he resumed his exercises. He was genuinely curious if he could maintain their communication link while he performed simple activities like these. “I think we’re not quite finished yet…if you know what I mean.”
There was a long silence, during which Randall feared he had lost contact so he stopped the exercises and whispered, “Hello?”
I am here, the sword replied. But pursuing such…activities can only be detrimental to your training. I understand if you have certain appetites which desire satisfaction, but I must insist we maintain focus on longer-term goals.
“’Longer-term goals’?” Randall repeated in confusion as he resumed his exercises. “What kind of goals are we talking about? I mean, I know we’re trying to get you fixed but I don’t see how this interferes with that…”
Very well, Dan’Moread said quickly, and Randall thought he heard exasperation hidden somewhere in the sword’s voice, do as you will, but after we have left Rimidalv’s camp I must insist on a stricter regimen. We shall soon be without his protection and I fear the world will not abide our lack of preparation.
“Wait, wait, wait,” Randall stopped in mid-motion and looked down at the sword in his hands, “is this the part where you start denying me certain liberties like Rimidalv does with Yae—“ he caught himself and lowered his voice, “like Rimidalv does with Ser Cavulus?”
I have already told you, Dan’Moread replied quickly, I would never do that even if I was able. I only want what is best for you.
“If that’s true then you should just leave ‘what’s best for me’ to me, ok?” Randall said tersely. He thoroughly disliked the idea of having his will subverted, even by someone who he felt he owed a debt of gratitude.
There was another silence, followed by, Very well. I will attempt to do as you ask.
Randall stood there and began to regret his last words. “I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head in exasperation. “This has been a lot to take in…I’m trying, but I need some time to work through it. I hope you understand.”
I am not certain I do, Dan’Moread r
eplied, but I will endeavor to remedy that particular failing as a gesture of friendship.
“Thank you,” Randall said courteously before resuming his exercises. “And I’ll do my best to get in better shape for you.”
I wish you good luck, the sword said, for I fear you will need it.
“Hey!” Randall blurted, but he realized as soon as he had done so that the connection was severed. “I fear you will need it,” he mimicked the sword’s deadpan voice as he went through another series of transitions just before losing his footing and snapping the string between his ankles.
“Oh, come on!” he yelled angrily, leaning down to re-tie the string before finishing out the set of exercises.
Chapter XXVI: Parting Words
Late Night, 23-13-5-659
Collapsing together after yet another round of intense exertion, Randall and Yaerilys’ sweaty bodies glistened in the dim, flickering lantern light inside the tent.
“Thou art quite gifted, Randall,” she said approvingly as she took deep, measured breaths.
“Well…you’re ok, I guess,” he said facetiously, prompting her to slug him in the arm—hard. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” he said defensively, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “The truth is I’ve never felt quite this way before,” he said, and for the first time in his life he actually meant it.
She gave him a searching look before smiling in apparent satisfaction. “Would that we could continue in this way forever,” Yaerilys said wistfully before lowering her voice slightly and continuing, “but I fear our time is at an end. There are matters which require the White Blade’s attention, and as Rimidalv’s bearer it is my duty to see to them.”
Joined at the Hilt: Union (Sphereworld: Joined at the Hilt Book 1) Page 29