Of Coups and Cauls

by Tyranni Thomas

  “My father’s men have slain our babies?” I had to verify it, even if it was clear.

  “Fifteen babies and ten wives were the civilian casualties, my Goddess.”

  I couldn’t speak. I didn’t have to. The men all mirrored the same rabid disgust that I felt in the core of my stomach.

  Chapter Ten

  Eryx

  Awilda’s accounts made me sick, but they also stirred emotions I hadn’t realized I possessed. It filled me with a sense of guilt. No one ever asked about my parentage. A glance was all it took to know my mother was of Zaith or the Raven Nation. Once they came to that conclusion, they never cared to ask who my father was. I took a deep breath and forced myself to work around it.

  “Those numbers are a force to be reckoned with, Lady Warrior,” I diplomatically soothed. “Unfortunately, with the Savagelands occupied, the Faustlin Empire is now holding everything west of the Sea of Tears. We had hoped to get Ryver out before he became so bold, but…”

  It was always tough to see a strong woman moved to tears. Awilda’s eyes were brimmed with them, and she refused to meet my gaze, which was probably a blessing.

  “The Empire boasts an army of twenty-five thousand men at any given time. They have another fifteen on reserve in the capital. Granted… it is a long way to the capital.”

  “He knows we will react. He has his troops in the jungle. The reserve troops are guarding the capital and more wealthier providences,” Ryett predicted. His fingers massaged his sinus area before dropping back to his side in defeat.

  “If our swordsman…” Drayce began.

  “Our swordsmen… our swordsmen would be a snack for Octavius’ troops,” Kais spat.

  “Yes, but… if they all had the skill of the Savagelands and the High-Country… how many would it take to have a chance?” Drayce persisted.

  My tongue slid over the back of my teeth. Figures flew through my mind.

  “No less than fifteen thousand,” Ryett mumbled, without conviction.

  “If we used all our troops we could draw four thousand men. Azaria, your Barizonian numbers?” I had gotten lost in the report.

  “Twenty-six hundred Savages.”

  “That’s almost seven thousand with the armies combined,” I hopefully ventured.

  “Right. That’s less than half the number we need,” Kais growled.

  We all leaned back from the table. The silence stretched into a palpable discomfort.

  “I’m done waiting on his next move,” Azaria announced. “He has Ryver and is increasing his aggresion. We can’t afford to wait.”

  “My mother was Zaith, as was Queen Asena. Suppose we petition them for aide?” I offered.

  “Petition them for aide.” Kais laughed. His eyes cut from me to Awilda and back again. “Right, we’ll just scribble that up and pay some poor sod’s family some coin. Perhaps then, he might be willing to sacrifice himself delivering it. They are tribesmen not politicians!”

  Azaria slammed her hands on the table and the pieces went scattering.

  “Enough,” she demanded. “You say we have four thousand… that is only if we use every sword in Tauran. We can’t leave her shores vulnerable.”

  “It would be suicide for the Farm Folk to leap into battle with the Empire,” Ryett offered. “They can scarcely defend their own streets. I say we leave the Farm Folk to see to the crops, animals, and supply routes. We take the thousand you mentioned from the High-Country and Dells, another thousand from the Village guard.” His voice trailed off, and he scratched the stubble of his chin.

  “So, when will we set off for Zaith?” Kais sighed. We all knew she wouldn’t budge. Savagelands or not, we needed a way in if we intended to recover Ryver.

  “As soon as the lot of you can get the ships loaded. Nariyah will rule in my stead, as DeHaven’s regent. You two will go with Awilda to the Lost Isle and prepare the troops. Drayce, Eryx, and I will push farther to the shores of Zaith and the Raven Nation,” Azaria rattled.

  Everyone looked around at each other. The plan had been formed, our family would be split, but if we intended to retrieve Ryver and all be together somehow… it was what would have to be. Fate it seemed, had rushed our hand and options.

  Chapter Eleven

  Drayce

  It had been years since I’d placed foot on the coast. I had a deeply guarded respect for the sea. It provided nourishment from time to time and washed trade ashore. Aside from that, I had no use for the uncertainty of her moods or potential for mayhem.

  Hadn’t we all learned a lesson after watching half of Octavius’ troops get swallowed without warning, not even a moon ago? The memory of it did nothing for my spirits.

  With a scowl painted brightly across my features, I stared down at the ships below. There were three in total. One had the black and gold Savageland banner. Its frame was long and slender, making it ideal for navigation in even the narrowest of rivers. They were war ships. The only type of ship known in the Barizon.

  On either side of her lay the more familiar Tauranian ships. They were equipped with cannons on each side, but more suitable to large cargo and extended adventures, boasting the underbelly quarters of the Faust vessels.

  Footsteps crunched over the sand behind me, pulling me from the million disaster scenarios that currently entertained my thoughts.

  Azaria’s fingers trailed along my upper arm. She tossed me a wink and continued towards the boats. “Hurry up, handsome, there’s still time to start the voyage off right.”

  My brows lifted but I didn’t bother telling her that I would be too focused on keeping my breakfast down to worry over getting anything of interest up. Is this what they meant when they said women went through changes? It sure seemed like madness to me, and all I had managed to do so far was to sit my ass onto the rickety bench of the row boat.

  I closed my eyes while the world swayed and sauntered outside my self-induced darkness. The rhythmic crashing of the waves and occasional splashing over my arms caused every muscle in my body to turn rigid. My limbs burned and ached with tension long before the guards even started rowing.

  It was the longest ten minutes of my life. Azaria only compounded the situation by rubbing my shoulders in front of the other men. The sound of their snickers grew with my blind attempts to locate the ledge beside me. Once I had my hand around solid wood, I concentrated on getting my breaths to come slow and steady, no longer giving a fuck if I sounded like a hound in the midst of a heat stroke.

  “You need a drink,” a cheerful voice called from above.

  It took everything I had, but I forced one eye to squint open. Eryx leaned over the railing waving us up. His amused smile was undeniable, but he at least had the grace to spare my dignity the laugh.

  It was no easy task, but I forced my boot to find one rung and then another. My life flashed before my eyes three times before the splinters of the ledge greeted my fingertips. Eryx reached down to help me aboard.

  “Appreciate ya,” I mumbled over the chorus of laughter below. He assisted Azaria up while I put my back to the wall and tried to cope.

  “I didn’t think a guy that big could be scared of anything,” a young deck hand called.

  I growled at him, and the boy took off below.

  After a few minutes I was able to roll my neck. A reluctant round of gratifying pops resounded. Gulls screeched in the distance. Across the forecastle, Thayer was scoring over maps with what must have been our captain.

  Fingers tugged gently at my shoulder. When I tried to turn in their direction, they spanned my jaw. The hand to my shoulder possessively clamped, and the full softness of her familiar lips passionately pressed and suckled at my own.

  She swayed with the natural momentum of the boat while I stumbled into her mercy and the demand of her mouth. The hand on my cheek slid back along my ear and wrapped around behind my head. Her tongue danced with mine, distracting me from the fact that we had stalled mid-ramp. Soldiers squeezed to fit around us with their crates.


  I tried to pull away when I realized what an obstacle we were becoming. She used the hand behind my head to pull me back down into an unspoken denial. The paw that had been devoted to my shoulder navigated its way down to my waist. She raised her leg on the opposite side, planting her foot against the wall like a human toll bridge. It prevented my escape from either direction and backed up the loading traffic. Selectively oblivious, her fingers tugged at my waist band and her tongue flatly washed my throat.

  “Azaria…” I managed.

  “You’re the King of Tauran, Drayce. And your Queen likes to fuck.”

  The soldiers current silence was twice as daunting as their laughter had been. Five heads craned around boxes and crates, waiting with bated breath to see what their Savageland Tauranian Queen was about to do next.

  “There are men…” I began.

  “So, there are,” she acknowledged, glancing over them one by one.

  Her slick petals painted the crown of my cock until I was half weak-kneed. I was hers, lost to the dark smoky eyes and the hibiscus scent. I gave in to the craving and leaned down, capturing her mouth with my own. She bent her knee without warning and shifted her hips.

  She stole my breath and my cock at the same time, with some carnal tactic that left the spectators gasping. Each tip of her knee slid her another inch. The woman was in no hurry. She took her arms off my neck and raised them over her head, surrendering herself to the slow stretching like she’d been sentenced to it.

  When the puffy petals of her cunt finally teased against me, the spell broke. Spiritual leader or not, I cursed every flick of her hips. It probably averaged out, the men in the line were turning religious at a faster rate than I could ever convert them.

  The shirt saved me from the devastation of her nails, but I was certain I’d still have battle scars when it was over. Each time her walls resisted and spasmed to accommodate me, I was overcome with the barbaric need to bury myself in her.

  Fingers curled into my hair and fire spread across my scalp.

  “To work. Drayce can give lessons later, boys,” she breathlessly ordered while staring into my eyes.

  I smiled so big, I could feel the dimples. It was probably the first time in my life they didn’t embarrass me. I don’t think anything could in that moment.

  She clung to me, writhing and spilling my name onto the winds while the men played limbo behind me. Stooping and swaying, doing their best not to venture to close to my thrusting while contorting beneath her still propped leg.

  Her climax caused a milking sensation that carried me over the edge with her. Once the pulsing stopped and my senses returned, I couldn’t help but laugh and bury my head in the crook of her neck.

  “What the fuck was that?” I asked around a rugged breath.

  “It excites me.”

  “It?”

  “Battle.”

  I stared at her, speechless. The very way she said the word had made me hard again. She clenched her muscles around my dick, giving a carnal hug that approved of my body’s response and stole my breath all over again.

  For the first time since I had laid foot on that cursed sand, I prayed for a long epic voyage.

  Chapter Twelve

  Azaria

  Poor Drayce. I probably traumatized the man. He was so content in his shell and probably the only male I know who had absolutely no desire for audience or unnecessary attention. Part of me felt bad when I stopped and really thought about it. With all that had gone on and the succession of events, I hadn’t paid him any mind. He never complained, and he was always so understanding, it made it easier to juggle him. So, I was glad that I had taken him and Eryx aboard with me.

  It took Drayce a few days before he would join us deck-side for breakfast, but he warmed up after a few days. He was already waiting for us, a cloth thrown over the barrel we used as a table and fresh bread broken up for the breaking of our fast.

  I untangled my fingers from Eryx and pulled a shorter crate to sit on. A few of the soldiers still stared when I tasted wine off Eryx lips and ate strawberries from Drayce’s hands. It was comical. If I caught them, they would often blush or scamper off like stable boys. I wondered what they would do when we found the Zaith shore, but then it occurred to me, that my amusement at their lack of culture was probably no different than Narelle had found at my expense.

  “Land on the horizon,” a filthy, straggly haired man called from the bucket above.

  “By the Marked Men, make him take a bath before we go ashore. They will think us all afflicted and no one will make it home.” I gagged. The man was a good five yards above me, but the breeze was unfavorable.

  Eryx laughed and we gravitated towards the forecastle. The horizon was misty, the tale-tell Zaith emerald water giving the rolling density an ethereal tint. Once we got closer, the sound of the region’s birds screeched in the distance. I closed my eyes and smiled. It had been far too long since I felt any sense of being home.

  We pierced the mist, and the shore slowly came into view. Feathered headdresses and painted faces stretched as far as we could see down either side of the coast.

  “Well. This is it. In an hour we will be shark food or sharing a peace pipe,” Eryx surmised.

  “You couldn’t have just said ‘time will tell’ and left it at that?” Drayce asked, paling considerably.

  “Prepare the row boats,” I yelled. It was cruel, but I couldn’t help the smile I found when Drayce nearly jumped into my arms.

  Eryx’s hand came up, and he rubbed at his face. Clearly struggling to conceal his own amusement.

  “It was a joke. They don’t feed the sharks. Too many fear it increases the number of attacks,” he finally admitted.

  “Number of attacks?” Drayce dumbly repeated. “They are known for shark attacks?”

  I couldn’t help it, I laughed so hard that I had to hold my side.

  “We will be in a boat—it’s fine. Just don’t swim here. You’re fine.”

  Every effort to comfort Drayce was met by another lift of his brows. His hands clenched the side of the ship until his knuckles began to change colors.

  “Yanno… I uh. Where’s that fucking herald. He loves a good chat… we could toss him ashore, see how it goes.” Drayce’s attention shot around the deck while he offered suggestions.

  I had no doubt that he would have offered up his good name if it meant he didn’t have to risk the emerald waves.

  “Drayce. Get. Your. Big. Ass. In. That. Dingy. Before I help you fall into it.” I smiled and hefted my brows a few times to emphasize the sincerity of my suggestion.

  He held my gaze while his jaw flopped around a bit.

  “Dray…” I started.

  He lurched away from the sound of my voice, falling prey to the leg of a nearby soldier. His bulky frame weaved and flailed. His face channeled terror and hopelessness before the long hair fluttered and tangled about him.

  Eryx’s long legs carried him to the rescue with a mere step or two. He was the least muscular of them all, but I assumed adrenaline did that to a person.

  Drayce crashed into me and we both fell to the floor. The man was trembling and clinging to me like I was his saving grace. I let him settle down and carefully coaxed him through the descent. Once we were in the dingy, we awaited the soldiers settling into our other two row boats. Drayce sat with his hands pinned between his knees until we made it to shore.

  It felt nice to place my feet on the sand, but nothing could alleviate the awareness that more than a few hundred arrows were currently aimed at my head.

  “Stay behind us and keep your hand off you’re weapon unless I give the order,” I commanded without taking my eye off the men ahead. We slowly advanced up the beach There were still a few dozen yards between us and the men on horseback.

  “Ho, ye no farther!” a warrior on a white steed called in the Zaith tongue.

  Only the eldest of Savages are fluent in the ancient languages. Through my mother, I learned the basics, but not much more. It
left me dependent on Eryx and more than a little edgy.

  The warrior argued with a man on a red painted mare. Feathers had been fashioned into the mane and bustled in the breeze. I questioned why I had never thought of such a thing in my youth and found the man atop it staring at me. He spat in front of the warrior and led his horse toward us.

  “What the fuck was that?” Drayce whispered.

  “The fellow on the white beast wishes to kill the Tauranians. The Shaman just called him a fool and told him he has brought shame to the entire tribe by uttering such things about a Goddess,” Eryx hastily translated. His voice tapered off as the aged man drew closer.

  “Your patience and hospitality are most appreciated,” Eryx began, keeping his speech slow and distinct out of respect for me. “We arrive seeking audience with the Sovereigns of Zaith on behalf of Azaria of the Savagelands, Quee…”

  “She is Azaria Goddess of the Savageland. Daughter of Asena. The prophesied Elemental Channeless.” The Shaman returned, in the common Faustlin tongue.

  “Prophesied mental what?” Drayce instantly spat.

  Eryx finger slowly raised and silently begged a moment.

  “Azaria is the Channeless?”

  I had no idea what a Channeless was, but something gripped my spine in an icy clutch that insisted I keep my chin parallel to the ground. Visions of my mother flashed before me, and I did my best to imitate her thousand-yard stare, as if the man before me were of no more importance than a speck of dust, a particle only seen in the glory of light.

  At the poising of the inquiry, the elderly man’s hand split the air, and two fingers gestured towards me.

  “You would deny it?” His accent sounded harsh. The words clipped.

  I wondered in my haze of self- serving disassociation, if that was what I had sounded like when I washed ashore. Had the Tauranian world closed in on me so much that my own world would now be foreign? The thought caused my breath to quiver. I struggled to pass it off as boredom while praying it didn’t get us killed.