by Bryn Colvin
Liss stared into dark eyes that shimmered in the half-light. This woman was inevitably older than the mysterious figure remembered from childhood and there was weariness in her features, but there was no mistaking her. That face had remained clearly with Liss, like a vivid dream she could never entirely shake off. The high cheekbones, the delicacy of the mouth, the eyes that seemed to bore into the depths of her soul—these things were unforgettable. These were unmistakable. The presence before her was not purely human, she knew that now, but felt herself drawn powerfully.
“He takes no prisoners, your father.”
“He takes some, but not many.”
Liss wanted to ask how this woman knew her, but found her tongue was leaden in her mouth. The irresistible woman moved closer, lifting the blood smeared cutting edge of Liss’s axe carefully in her fingers and guiding it towards her stomach.
“You have killed?” she asked.
The axe stood between them, as a barrier and a connection.
“Repeatedly,” Liss admitted. “I’ve lost count.”
“Never mind. I had almost hoped I might be your first: Foolish of me. Of course you would fight and fight well. You are your father’s child.”
Liss considered the stranger’s curious words. The woman was unarmed and unprotected save for a few layers of timeworn clothing. She could not imagine wanting death.
“Will you take my life and make your father proud? I am too old to make a slave.”
Old enough to work, but also old enough to remember: she knew Maths’ ways well enough—that was apparent. They had no contact with those outside the community, save for war and Liss could not understand how this unfamiliar being could seem to know her father so well. She gripped the axe, thinking that she should strike and remembering the anger with which her father had encountered this woman all those years ago. Liss knew that Math killed without hesitation and would expect no less of her. The young fighter thought frantically, torn between the knowledge of her duty and an ephemeral feeling she could not explain that stayed her hand. All the while the woman before her remained still, making no effort to fight or bid to escape, until Liss found she could no longer meet her captive’s eye. She shook her head.
“Go,” she said hoarsely.
No one else could have escaped from that place. The only conventional way out of the yard required walking between the outhouses, where five armed, young fighters were laughing with drink and watching for survivors. Liss knew that the woman she had found would not need to flee by that route. She turned and faced the doorway, not wanting to see and offering her vulnerability as a form of trust.
“I could strike you down, girl.”
“But you will not.”
“You are so certain.”
“You will not strike me, as I did not strike you.”
Why she was certain this was true, she could not say. Like the living statues in her coming of age dream, it seemed to make sense even though she could find no explanation.
Remembering her peculiar vision, she asked, “Who are you?”
“Who are you?” the crow woman replied, her words a disturbing echo of that vision.
Hearing the rustle of feathers, Liss looked over her shoulder and watched as the crow that had been a woman hopped to the window and was gone.
Who was she? Liss wondered. It was the second time now she had cause to think she had asked the wrong question. There was no reason to think this woman should have answers for her and yet the riddle of her existence did seem connected to the crow woman in some way. That her father recognised and detested the creature was enough to prove he had known her before and what that meant Liss could not be sure.
“Who are you to me?” she whispered after the absent form, “and who am I to you? Do you know who I am: Who I truly am? I am more than my father’s daughter. Do you know that?”
“Who are you talking to?”
She felt Rina’s hand on her arm.
“To myself,” Liss said, smiling and trying to shrug off her troubling thoughts.
“I don’t think we will get any further, the boys have staked their claim in that wine hoard. Do you think we could claim the whole house? It’s better than any of the others I think, at least I can see more that we could use here.”
“We can try. My father should grant us something for our work.”
“What now?” Rina asked.
“Are they drunk?”
“They will be soon.”
Liss pursed her lips, thinking and listening.
“It’s getting quiet. I can’t hear any fighting. Can you see much of the walls from higher up?”
“The walls are taken, at least as far as I could see.”
“Then I should find my father, or Gron and see what orders there are for us. See if you can hold our claim to the house and tell them that if they drink themselves silly, we might not get to keep the place.”
~*~
“What news?” Math asked Leaf.
“You’re injured!”
“It can wait, it isn’t going to kill me. I want to know how things stand.”
“The walls are secured and, aside from clearing out the houses, the locals are under control. Your girl did well, many of them quitted their defences when they heard there were fighters in the town, it didn’t take much.”
“What losses?”
Leaf shook his head, making no attempt to hide his dismay.
“We lost thirty two before we breached the walls.”
“Thirty two?” Math echoed in disbelief.
He knew the duo with the longbows had taken their toll, but still it was worse than he had expected.
“We lost another dozen or so on taking the town and there are a great many wounded, from the long bows more than any other cause.”
Math shook his head.
“That’s a third of our strength.”
“I know,” Leaf answered grimly.
“But we have the town,” Math added, “and I will pay considerably for any of those long bows that are brought to me. I want them found: there must be others, we must have them and master them.”
“As you say,” Leaf nodded.
Before the assault he had been entirely in favour of the campaign, but now that it had cost them so dearly he looked back on what he considered to be Math’s decision and thought it ill-guided.
“I shall take the central stronghold,” Math said. “Everyone else is to find shelter where they can and take what they please. We must consider our next moves.”
“Should I send a runner to the camp and have them join us?”
“Wait until sunrise. They all need rest and our company can hardly travel by night.”
Sena was with child again and he had no desire to place any excessive strain upon her.
“Father?”
Math looked up to see Liss enter the long room proudly.
“I heard that you fought valiantly and killed their two best warriors unaided,” she said by way of greeting.
“It is so. I hear that your entrance via the river went well, you drew their men from the walls.”
Liss accepted this praise, even though she had no sense that her efforts merited it.
“What would you have me do now?”
“Are any in your group in need of healing?”
“We are all well.”
“Then find yourself a place for the night and see me in the morning.”
“Can we lay claim to one of the houses we overran?”
“It is your right.”
She smiled at this, then her expression altered swiftly as he turned towards her and she saw the arrow shaft protruding from his chest.
“You have been shot.”
“I will live. Too many others did not, by all accounts. Now, on your way, you must rest and I have work to do, including having this attended to. I think if anyone else tells me I have been shot, I shall kill them.”
~*~
There was a fire in one of the hearths and th
e sound of merriment filled the main room when Liss finally found her way back to the house they had claimed. Her thoughts were troubled, by her father’s words and by the crow woman. She was in no mood for celebration. Storm pressed a flagon into her hands and laughingly ordered her to drink. She took a swig, feeling the warm sweet liquor trickle down her throat. Keeping the drink with her, she took a seat in the corner beside the fire.
Blade, Erit and Rina were locked in a drunken play-fight—their laughter exploding from time to time as they stumbled, jostled and wrestled with each other. There was a sound of ripping cloth as Rina’s tunic came apart at one seam.
“Nice tits,” Arl exclaimed, from the far side of the fireplace.
Hearing his words, Liss looked up, to see that Rina’s small and pert bosoms were indeed in display.
“Let’s have a feel, then,” Blade said.
Rina pulled her shoulders back invitingly and the lean young man cupped one breast in his hand. Erit, without hesitation, took the other one. Liss felt a tremor of nervous sensation skitter through her—the knowledge of skin on skin and the drink-fuelled desire that came in the wake of surviving a fight. She drew her knees up, putting her feet on the seat of the chair so that she could make herself smaller and covering the more sensitive parts of her own body. Rina seemed to be enjoying herself, offering words of encouragement to the two lads at work on her nipples.
“Hey, Liss,” said Storm, “how about it? Are you getting yours out as well?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Too proud to get felt up by your comrades?” he persisted.
“No!”
Part of her was drawn by what was happening, conscious of the desires of those around her and the mounting heat of lust within the room. She knew Storm wanted her to drop her legs down and pull her top over her head and that he wanted to watch her play with herself. He was not as innocent as the others.
“Leave her be,” said Arl, “if Liss doesn’t want in, she shouldn’t have to.”
“What about you?” Storm asked. “Going to try your luck with Rina, or did you have something else in mind?”
“I don’t know. I was just watching.”
During the conversation, Rina had lost the entirety of her clothing and her pale skin shone in the firelight. She was slight and small, but her curves were perfectly proportioned. Liss gripped her knees tightly against her chest and watched, fascinated. One by one the other four stripped off their clothing. There was enough heat from the fire to keep them all comfortable. Erit was the first to take Rina and, as Liss watched him mount her, she knew they had done this before. Rina wriggled eagerly. Beyond them, Storm sat in a wooden chair, watching the display of sex and pleasure. Arl squatted between his thighs, his head down in the older boy’s lap, clearly engrossed in his labours. Blade was rubbing himself, watching the others and waiting for his turn.
The first orgasms were startling and intense. Liss felt Rina’s shudders of pleasure as though they were her own; then Erit’s urgent release came crashing through it all like a wild horse. She felt the trembling, spurting delight of Storm emptying himself into Arl’s eager mouth and then Blade was plunging his rigid organ into Rina’s slippery cunt and the whole overwhelming process began again. They moved closer, until the five of them had merged into a single cluster of limbs and lust. They kissed and touched, fucked and fondled with total abandon, until Liss thought she was starting to go mad. She simply could not bear to watch any more. Knowing that they had forgotten all about her, she slipped out of the back of the house and into the cool night.
Through the gaps between the houses she could see clusters of stars, but it was hard to tell which they were. Neither moon was visible and it was both cool and tranquil beyond the walls. She buried her face in her hands, breathing deeply and trying to take command of herself. These were her friends, her comrades and the people she trusted most. It was only natural to fuck after a fight; most of the adults did it if they could. She had been strongly drawn to what they were doing, her own body crying out for sensual release. She could have had the boys suckling her nipples and slipping their hard cocks into her body to give her pleasure. They would have done so gladly. What she had felt in that room had seemed too much and she thought that, if anyone did touch her, the force of it would probably drive her to distraction. Her body might ache for want of the good fucking she had never so far enjoyed, but her senses could not stand that intensity of awareness. She felt fragile, like the clay flagon she still held in her clenched hands. She took a drink and felt the shaking in her limbs decrease.
Chapter Nine
“You are here, then,” Noon said, as she entered her sister’s new dwelling place.
Sena rose awkwardly, her movements made difficult by the considerable girth of her waist. The baby would be a large one—that was already obvious.
“We arrived yesterday. It is a strange place, this. I don’t really remember the towns from before, do you?”
“A little. They were much like this, but our roofs were made of red slate and these seem mostly to be covered with grass.”
“Are you well?” Sena enquired.
“Well enough, sister, but I bring ill news. We are two sisters now.”
Sena closed her eyes in silent grieving. Fin had not survived the battle to conquer this place then. She had heard there had been a good many dead and had waited with a heavy heart, fearing she must have lost someone dear to her.
“The dead were buried on the first day.”
Sena sighed at this, knowing she had missed the one time it was safe to make farewells and that Fin had gone without her blessing. She could not even ask if her sister had died well for fear of distracting her shade from its journey into the beyond.
“If this one is a girl, I shall know what name to give her,” Sena said.
“It would be well. She would have liked that.”
Sena moved objects and clothing thoughtlessly and without attention, packing and unpacking distractedly.
“I hear that Math means us to spend the winter in this place,” Noon remarked.
“He does. There are enough supplies and it gives our wounded time to heal.”
“And then?”
“I do not know.”
“Do you think he might mean to stay here? It is big enough. Are we to become farmers and settlers, do you suppose?”
“I am not privy to his thoughts. Perhaps we shall see in the spring.”
“It is a soft life,” Noon said angrily.
“Perhaps some of us are tired of living a hard one,” Sena retorted.
Noon shook her head.
“You are tired and we are both grieving. Now is not the time. I shall see you on another day.”
~*~
Lying in the darkness, Liss heard the distinctive sound of bare feet padding across the wooden floorboards of her room. Instinctively, she reached for the knife that always lay behind her pillow. The bed rocked under a slight weight, as a small form straddled her, pinning her down. Liss relaxed partially, recognising Rina from the rhythm of her breathing and the sweet scent of her body.
A small hand cupped Liss’s cheek and a husky voice whispered, “Are you asleep?”
“With all the noise you made? Of course not.”
Liss was playful in her tone, remembering the many games they had played in their childhood. Rina had become something strange of late, more woman than child, when Liss did not yet feel herself fully possessed of her adult sexuality. They had not played as friends in many years and she wondered what this unexpected visit might mean.
“I can understand you not wanting to play with the boys. There are more of them than us after all and they can be rough. Storm can be very rough, let me tell you.”
Liss tensed, sensing a direction of talk that she did not much like. Rina seemed to revel in her memories of the recent orgy, while what she had seen of it had troubled and unsettled Liss.
“You’ve not had a boy, have you, Liss?”
&n
bsp; “No,” Liss said, “not yet. I will when I’m ready.”
“Let me help you,” Rina breathed against her ear. “I can teach you how to enjoy yourself.”
She began kissing Liss’s neck, pulling down her blankets and letting the cool night air gain access to the bare skin hidden beneath it. Liss froze, feeling this unfamiliar warmth on her body, as Rina’s mouth strayed ever closer to he breasts and nipples.
“I don’t want this,” Liss whispered.
“Of course you do, you just need to loosen up a bit.”
“Rina, stop it!”
“Relax, Liss, just relax and enjoy.”
“I said no!”
Liss struggled into a sitting position, pushing Rina away such that the girl tumbled from the bed to the floor.
There was a long, pregnant silence and then from the darkness Rina said, “You really need to sort yourself out, Liss.”
With that, she left the room.
Liss pulled the blankets close around her and waited for calm to return. Her skin still blazed a sensual fire where Rina’s lips and fingers had strayed. Why had she not wanted it? She could not say with any clarity. Rina’s lust was compelling, more so than that of the whole hand had been after the fight. Rina’s body was fair and shapely and Liss had wondered enough times whether they would end up lovers. They had always been close, but something seemed to be pulling them apart and Liss had no sense of what it was or what it meant. Rina was changing, moving beyond Liss’s capacity to understand her.
“I want someone to touch me,” Liss breathed into the darkness, “but not like that.”
She was not entirely sure what she meant, save that she would recognise it if she found it. She wanted more than to be touched with fleeting lust and desire and instead she craved something that would reach through her body and caress her fiery spirit.
Closing her eyes, Liss stroked her arms slowly, letting her fingers brush lightly against her skin. She caressed her neck and down over the tops of her breasts, feeling as though her actions brushed away the lingering influence of Rina on her body.
Sometimes at night, she used her fingers between her thighs, bringing relief from her tensions and easing the hunger of lust. Physical pleasure was something she could readily achieve for herself, so she saw little point in drawing others into her solitary activities. If she was to share her body with anyone, she wanted it to be more than a way of getting a bit of frustration out of her system. Rina had managed to agitate her and she knew of nothing that might remedy it.