Dumont's Harem Castle Adventure

by Alexis Ward

  I groaned. “Ugh. In a way you’re right, but you’re also messing with me, aren't you?” I said.

  She flicked my half erect penis with her fingertip. “When am I ever not? It’s the way to have the most fun, you know.” she said as she crawled up onto the bench next to me.

  I sat up and wiggled away from her as she tried to lay her head in my lap. Instead, she flopped down on her side on the cushions. She growled in frustration, but then pulled one of the furs over herself like a blanket. “Fine then. Come back soon?” she asked.

  “I will.” I said.

  “And send on of the guards in. I’ll handle things from there. Goblin court doesn’t really ever end unless I say so. But I was in the middle of something. Mostly keeping the chiefs all in one room where I can see them so they don’t start thinking for themselves.” she said. On my way out through the same door I came in, I let one of the guards know that their Queen had requested him. He didn’t seem to know whether to be elated or terrified. I wandered back toward more familiar parts of the castle.

  Chapter 14 - Blood in the Night

  As I wandered through the familiar torch lit halls that would take me toward the dining room, Feera turned a corner at a full tilt run and almost collided with me as she came to a stop. “Clive, I smell them. Earlier than usual. We need to go now if we’re going to catch them.” she said. She had managed to find some loose dirty white cotton pants somewhere, to complement the loose tangle of brown cloth that covered her upper body. Her arms were still mostly uncovered and she was barefoot.

  “What do you mean them? Slow down.” I said, not sure how to respond.

  “You said we would handle it later, but it will soon be too late for later. Are your weapons ready?” she said as she looked to the sword on my hip, and the rifle on my back.

  “I mean, yes, technically. I don’t have any spare ammo--” she shook her head.

  “They are not normally many. Now come, this way, we must catch them.” Feera dashed off down a branching pathway at a jog, only stopping to look back occasionally and make sure I was still keeping up with her. Soon we came through a small door and were near a section of the castle’s wall that hadn’t been repaired. “We will not catch them on foot. I need to… turn. Please look away.” Feera said. She sounded serious, so I complied. There would be time for questions later. There was a sickening series of crunches, pops, and the snapping of bones. It lasted only a moment, and then I heard nothing but silence. I turned around slowly, and stared into the eyes of a red rust colored wolf who was almost taller than me. On reflex, I took a few steps backward and reached for my rifle. Before I grabbed the strap I got a grip on my instinctive fear and stopped myself.

  “Feera, this is your… other form I guess?” I asked. She let out a low whine and blinked her eyes at me in response. Her nose was about level with my chest, until she knelt down.

  “Talk is hard. Get on.” she growled, almost so quiet I couldn’t hear her. I fumbled my way on to her back, then held onto her fur as she rose suddenly and bounded over the crumbled portion of the wall. A moment later she sprinted into the forest, me clinging to her back for dear life as her speed increased.

  The forest was dark, the moon a sliver in the sky that provided only scant illumination. Trees and other shapes less distinguishable whipped by us as Feera bounded through the forest. I held on and kept as low as I could, hoping that I wouldn’t catch a stray tree branch to the face, or anything worse. It was unclear how much time passed, but when Feera came to a stop, I realized where we were, at least generally.

  Feera stood on a small rise, concealed partially by the slope of the hill and the foliage that lined the top. From atop her back, I had an excellent vantage point overlooking the old road, on the far border of what Sasha considered her lands. Along the road, six covered wagons formed a line, and they didn’t seem to be moving. Near them on the edge of the road, there were six horses, with dark cloaked figures that I assumed were their riders standing nearby. They seemed to be conversing with some people that were from the caravan. I couldn’t quite make out what was being said, but from the way the riders dragged a short individual from behind their horses, and then dragged him toward one of the wagons, I could guess.

  “Slavers?” I whispered. Feera responded with a low quiet growl. Then I heard shouting from over where the group was. Their prisoner put up a struggle, despite the hood over his head and the manacles that bound his hands behind his back. He headbutted one of the riders in the face, then tried to charge another, but misjudged the direction, tripped, and fell down into the snow.

  “Unhand me you crooks! I won’t be taken alive!” he shouted. I recognized the voice.

  “That’s Duriet, the shopkeeper that Sasha introduced me to!” I whispered in Feera’s ear. As four men wrestled him up and loaded him into the back of a wagon, the other riders got on their horses, went back up the hill, and disappeared into the treeline of the forest. Duriet had been loaded into the rearmost wagon. The caravan resumed its plodding pace northward up the road. Horse hooves clacked along the hard packed ice and snow, while the muted voices of the slavers sounded like a faint buzzing in the distance.

  “What did you bring me out here intending to do?” I asked Feera. I felt her exhale heavily.

  “Whatever you want. Save your friend? Chase the riders?” she growled.

  “Save Duriet. I’ll distract the front of the caravan if you can get around back and get away with him? Put him somewhere safe and come back to pick me up right here?” I asked.

  “Sure.” Feera growled. She crouched low to allow me to clamber off of her, then she padded off into the darkness, just below the ridgeline of the hill, headed toward the rear of the caravan. I moved down the hill and stood on the roadway, directly in the path of the advancing wagons. As I shouldered my rifle and fired at the driver of the first wagon, it occured to me that this might be a terrible plan. The bullet struck true and the wagon driver’s head popped open like a watermelon, showering the fabric behind him, and his companion next to him, with blood and bits of gore. His companion shouted and stumbled off of the cart onto the road as I took aim at him and fired again.

  My aim wasn’t as true, and I saw him clutch his side where I had hit him as he cried out for help. The response was faster and more extreme than I expected. Men swarmed out of the first wagon, and from around the sides, At least ten, maybe more, armed with a mishmash of swords, spears and hammers.. As I aimed at the center of the mob and squeezed off the remaining three shots of my rifle, I saw a huge blur slam into the rearmost wagon and tear through wood, canvas, and metal bars. That would be Feera, well, at least she and Duriet would make it out of this relatively unscathed. Before I could turn to flee back up the hill, the first of the slaver mob was on top of me. He was a wild thing, in a mixture of hides and patched cotton garments that smelled distinctly of body odor. In his hands he held a sledgehammer, which he swung downward toward me as he got within range.

  On reflex, I held my rifle up horizontally in both hands to block, and my arms shuddered as the head of the hammer impacted the rifle. I felt it wrenched from my grasp as the metal bent, and the wooden stock cracked under the force of the blow. I fell down onto my ass as my attacker heaved his hammer above his head again. I managed to roll backward as he swung down again and his hammer pounded into the ice and stone where I had sat a moment ago. Three more men caught up to him, and fanned out around me as I sprang to my feet and drew my sword.

  The man with the hammer was still in the lead as he lunged forward for a third swing. I leapt toward him, and was just a hair faster. My blade punctured clean through his chest and sank in to the hilt. I felt something sharp slice through my shoulder as one of the other men swung his sword at me. Then a singular howl rang out nearby. It sent a shiver up my spine, and I froze in place for a moment, despite my best efforts to pull my blade free and face the other attackers. The howl seemed to affect them similarly, and a few of the men that were running toward me dropped t
heir weapons and turned to flee, looking back occasionally to the hill near the road. As I regained a little control over my body and turned to see what they were looking at. I realized it was Feera still in her wolf form as she leapt into the middle of the fray just as the motley crew of warriors regained their senses.

  Her jaws clamped down on the man who had cut me as I pulled my sword free and turned away to engage the others. I heard bones break, coupled with a gurgling scream as the man behind me suffered a terrible fate. The remaining three men seemed hesitant to engage me, their eyes not focused on me, but on Feera’s large form behind me. This gave me an opportunity to capitalize on. “Drop your weapons and flee. Leave these lands, find another way to make your living. This will not be the only night my wolves and I hunt this road. If you return to your companions, tell them no one is safe now, and their illicit business is going to suffer.” I said, as menacingly as I could manage. Feera backed me up with a deep, guttural growl. That seemed to do the trick. The men dropped their weapons and fled northward into the night, away from their wagons. I put wiped my sword off on the dead man, then sheathed it.

  “Feera, are there any more among the wagons? And is Duriet okay?” I asked as I turned and brushed my hand along her rough fur. It was something of a relief that she seemed uninjured at least.

  “Friend okay. Will check wagons.” she growled as she bounded off and made a circuit of the slaver’s caravan. I picked at the ruins of my rifle. It had taken the hammer’s impact just in front of the trigger assembly and firing chamber. Not something I’d be able to repair on my own. A few minutes later Feera returned.

  “Wagons full of people. Captured people. What do?” she growled.

  “I’ll handle it. Go ahead and open up the cages.” I said as I walked toward the wagons. Feera moved out in front of me, tore aside the canvas of each wagon with her teeth, then snapped the locks with a well placed bite. She was by my side as I made it to the first wagon, where a ragtag collection of individuals was climbing out of the cage. They stood shivering in the night air, some barefoot in the snow. Slowly they gathered toward me and Feera, their incidental rescuers. “Okay. So… uh. Not sure why you were all caught, or sold or however this works. But your captors are routed, and I can’t really take care of you all. However, I have no use for these wagons, nor the provisions of the slavers. Take whatever you need, and use the horses and wagons to get back to your homes. Sound good?” I said. I hoped it sounded good.

  Someone in the crowd spoke. “Who is our rescuer? From whence do you come?” they asked.

  “I am Clive. I live on Lady Trevarthan’s lands, the forest up the hill is the border of her territory. You’re welcome to swing by the castle sometime if anyone wants, I guess. We are in need of more staff. Especially warriors, so that we can maintain proper control of this road and drive out the unsavory types that have taken to using it.” The cut on my arm throbbed fiercely, the pain interrupted my train of thought. I reached up with my hand and felt blood flowing freely between my fingers. “But I think I need to… go get this fixed up.” I turned as Feera crouched low, and I fought through the dizzy feeling that was building in my head and climbed on to her back. I made sure the remains of my rifle were strapped securely to my shoulder. Once we were back up on the hill, within the edge of the forest, she stopped to pick something up with her mouth, that seemed to fight her.

  “Put me down ye daft git! From slavers straight to the maw of some giant beast! Just my luck!” Duriet cursed and he struggled against Feera’s teeth. Feera hadn’t taken his hood off or removed the manacles from his hands.

  “Duriet. It’s Clive. That wolf you’re bitching at is a friend, and I’ve taken some literal pains here to rescue your hairy ass. So be grateful for the rescue and the ride to safety dammit.” I said. Duriet struggled a bit less.

  “Oh. Is that you eh? Fancy running into you and your giant scary wolf companion on a night like this eh? Where are we going then? I can walk you know.” Duriet said.

  “Lot of ground to cover. Feera is faster. We’re going back to Castle Trevarthan.” I said. Soon Feera was moving at full speed again, and we arrived back at the crumbled spot in the wall of the castle, the same point that we had left from. I slid off of Feera’s back to the ground, and helped Duriet to his feet from where Feera had dropped him. She hopped back over the wall, out of sight, and there was a series of sickening crunches and pops. When she came back over the wall, she was in human form and naked. She walked past us and retrieved her clothes from the doorway, and got dressed. Feera stepped close to me and put her face nose to nose with me. She stayed there for a moment, and inhaled slowly, her eyes locked with mine. Unsure how to respond to this, I remained as still as possible. I was glad Duriet’s hood hadn’t been removed yet, so that he wouldn’t make this any more awkward than it already felt.

  “Eh? Are we there? Getting kinda chilly out here. And be easier to breathe without this hood.” Duriet remarked. I turned away from Feera and pulled Duriet’s hood off. He looked about the same as always, square faced, and beared. Though his beard was definitely not looking well kept after the events of tonight. “Thank you kindly. Now what are we doing standing around in the cold for eh? Let’s see this castle I’ve heard so little about.” Duriet said. I turned as I heard the sound of the door as it closed. Feera had already gone inside. Duriet and I went in as well. No sign of Feera as we wandered the halls back toward the more populated parts of the castle.

  Chapter 15 - Revelations And Vendettas

  “So there’s something ye should know. You know that angsty looking fellow that leads a gang of town guards in Doubel? Seb-something?” Duriet said.

  “Sebastian?” I offered.

  “Aye, that’s the one. He and his boys busted up my shop, then took me out of town, on a ‘little trip’ they said. All because I wouldn’t tell em where I’d gotten the stones from. You know, those ones Sasha brought in a month or so ago. They weren’t asking too kindly to begin with anyway. Not sure how he even found out about em to begin with. So that’s how I wound up out in the cold when you and yours found me.” Duriet explained. I nodded.

  “Well, that makes some sense. Though it seems excessive, even for Sebastian. There’s probably something political going on that I’m not entirely privy to. Maybe Sasha will be able to puzzle it out.” I said. As we rounded a corner we came upon a long hallway. At the far end were Marybeth and Feera. Marybeth waved and soon they had joined us and turned to move in the same direction as us.

  “You missed the very dinner your organized. Feera tells me you had an interesting evening though. That cut on your arm is going to need stitches. Come this way.” Marybeth remarked.

  “Yeah.” I agreed. The bleeding had mostly stopped, but it hurt something terrible. Marybeth led us to a part of the castle I wasn’t familiar with. There were bricks and boards piled in the corners and along one side of the hallway. She turned toward Feera and Duriet.

  “Feera, take Duriet to Sasha and Tabitha. They’ll be able to finagle a temporary room for him. I’ll stitch up Clive and get him to his room. He’s probably going to need to sleep this off for a few days.” Marybeth said. Feera nodded, then she and Duriet split off from us, down a different hallway.

  A short while later Marybeth opened a door that led into a small room. It contained little more than a desk and bed. The desk was covered with architectural drawings with bits of math scribbled in the margin, and the bed was a plain affair, blankets tucked and folded in an orderly fashion. I still felt slightly dizzy as Marybeth sat me down on the bed. “I’ll be right back. Need to grab some medical supplies. If you feel nauseous or anything, just lay down. You’ve lost a fair bit of blood.” Marybeth said as she stepped out of the room and shut the door behind her.

  Her assessment was correct. My dizziness had only gotten worse. A few moments after she left, I flopped back onto the bed and passed out. I woke to the sensation of Marybeth starting the first stitch in my arm. “Ow.” I groaned as I opened my eyes
.

  “Don’t be a whiner. The initial cut probably hurt far worse than this process will.” Marybeth said as she continued the process.

  “Fair point.” I conceded. I lay back and tried to be still while she worked.

  “I think you owe me for this.” Marybeth said, a dark gleam in her eyes.

  “Uh, what do you mean?” I asked. She had finished the stitches and had started to wrap a bandage around my bicep.

  “I mean this is outside of my usual job duties. A favor I’ve done for you merits a favor in return. Wouldn’t you agree?” her smile grew wider.

  “I see half-devil is sometimes literal with you. I… think I see the logic there. What sort of favor did you have in mind?” I asked. She finished tying the bandage around my arm.

  “Oh, I think we can figure out the details later. When you’re more--” she paused to trail one scale-covered finger down the front of my shirt. “--coherent. Once your wound has healed perhaps.” she finished. I felt tired, as though I hadn’t slept nearly enough. I closed my eyes and heard Marybeth chuckle, a deep, unearthly sound. I was too tired to be unnerved by it though.