The Black Rabbit
Chapter 14

Copyright© 2017 by Robberhands

Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 14 - The story takes place in a fantasy world, roughly comparable to the time and area in Europe and the Mediterranean at the beginning of the first millennium AD. It's about the journey of a very unusual young man; as unusual in his world, as he would have been in ours. It's about the people he met and the things he learned from them; as well as it's about what he taught them in return. But mainly, it's about your enjoyment, so don't take anything too seriously.

Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Fa/Fa   Magic   NonConsensual   High Fantasy   Anal Sex   First   Slow   Violence  

Sybelien waited until sundown before she sneaked over to the white marble temple with the proud golden inscription ‘To Purity and Devotion’ above its wide, pillar-lined, main entrance. Three times she circled the building and then chose her point of entry. There were several side doors to the temple aside from the main entrance but she had never been inside and didn’t know the layout. All she knew was that a dungeon was supposed to be beneath the building and Rhaseris was alleged to be imprisoned in one of its cells - and even this vague information was doubtful since it derived from a treacherous slut in fear for her life.

So instead of using a side entrance, with unknown complications and dangers possibly lurking behind its door, Sybelien climbed an alder near the side of the temple where the temple’s roof was of a lower height than the rest of it and jumped from one of its branches down onto the roof of the building. She crawled across the rooftop until she could look over its inner edge down at an atrium. The atrium was a lovely interior garden surrounded by arcades and with the statue of a woman in its center.

After dusk, the garden was only illuminated by the pale light of the crescent moon - a little brighter at its outer edges due to the additional light coming from the wall mounted candleholders of the surrounding arcades. Trusting in her acute night-vision, Sybelien decided no one was present in the garden nor walking along the well-lit corridors. She let herself quietly drop from the roof onto the ground and hid between some bushes to further look and listen. No one entered the atrium as long as she waited and she used the time to get a good impression of the statue. Sybelien didn’t know the name of the particular goddess the statue was supposed to resemble but the sculpture was well-crafted, very life-like, and almost as beautiful as the only other divinity Sybelien had met so far.

She crawled along the wall of one of the empty corridors, slowly moving deeper into the temple. She paused at every door, pressing her ear against it; listening for any sounds from the other side. At the end of the corridor, she chose a door with no sounds coming from the other side and opened it just to find another empty hallway. She repeated the process.

In this corridor, she came across two staircases leading upwards but sadly none which led her down. There were three doors at the end of this hallway and none of them looked or sounded distinctively more inviting than the other two. Silently cursing, Sybelien grasped the medallion hanging from the chain around her neck and choose one of the three doors, randomly.

It was a little cooler was the first thing she noticed about the new corridor. After a fairly short walk, this new passage ended at a single, sturdy-looking and, as she quickly noticed, locked door. An involuntary smile appeared on her face as she finally encountered a familiar kind of problem. She took out her well-maintained set of skeleton keys and solved it. Sybelien even felt a bit let down about the ease with which she opened the rather crude and simple locking mechanism.

Behind the door was a staircase and it led downwards. After relocking the door she noticed the walls. The walls here were no longer smooth and artfully decorated; rather, they were nothing more than unadulterated, rough stone surfaces. After climbing down the stairs, she once again listened at the first door she came upon and was finally rewarded with something other than silence. She heard several men talking inside the room behind the door. The corridor, however, extended about twenty feet further before it turned; as far as she could see, she would be clear at least to the corner. Unfortunately, the entire twenty-foot of corridor was disturbingly well-lit by torches hanging on the walls. Nevertheless, it was the only way to find the Princess, and to find her was Sybelien’s mission, so she continued sneaking forward.

Her luck ran out all at once just as she was about to turn the corner.

The sudden sounds of steps echoing from around the corner froze Sybelien in place. To make matters worse, she could hear the door she had just passed creak as it opened and two men walked out. She frantically looked around, searching for an escape, but her situation was all too limited. She stood in a well-lit, narrow corridor. The walls were rough, but still too difficult to climb without tools and the ceiling wasn’t very high, anyway. The young woman was caught and she knew it.

She pressed her back flat against the wall, as far away from the torches as possible. One hand tightly clasped the hilt of her dagger and the other grasped her medallion just as firmly. The men from the guard-room were coming toward her, of course, but were busily talking and hadn’t detected her so far ... ten more steps and they would. The sole man farther down the corridor was also coming closer but still out of sight around the corner.

Sybelien went so far as to stop breathing but even if she would be invisible, her loud, rapid heartbeat certainly would betray her. Could she escape by fighting? It was much more likely she would die one of those stupid heroic deaths. It was smarter to get caught now and wait for a better chance to escape. Maybe her new boss would come and save her. The thought made her grin. Soon there would be two princesses in dungeon cells waiting to be rescued.

And then the approaching men crushed her daydreams.

The two greeted the man from the corner but none of the three men spared her a single glance as they walked past her. They walked by her completely at ease – two feet away, in a glaringly bright corridor. She sank to the ground and watched the retreating form of one of the men as he opened the creaking door to the guard-room. He entered and then the door shut.

Sybelien sat on the ground and looked at the medallion she held in her hand. The little blue stone set in its center had turned milky-white.

It took some time for her legs to quit trembling and she felt able to move again. When she turned the corner, she saw rows of cell doors along both sides of the corridor. The cell doors were outfitted with lockable, rectangular openings. Sybelien had to let the two men in front of her pass her a second time when she met them again on their way back to the guard-room but finally, she located Rhaseris’ cell. As she looked through the opening in the door, Rhaseris sat on a small, bare bunk. It apparently was the only furniture of her tiny prison, apart from a bucket standing in one corner. Sybelien thought she heard her murmuring something.

“Hello, Princess,” Sybelien greeted her. Grinning, she continued, “If you’re busy with praying, I can go again and visit you another time when it’s more opportune.”

Startled out of her reverie, Rhaseris spun around and stared at the small, barred opening of her cell door. At first she couldn’t see anything, but suddenly Sybelien’s face appeared in the opening as the little gem in her medallion resumed its sky-blue color. Rhaseris smiled when she recognized her visitor.

“Hello, Sybelien,” she returned the greeting. “It’s not really a prayer ... or maybe it is the only true prayer I know. It’s a children’s song called ‘The Black Rabbit’. Do you know it?”

Sybelien shook her head.

“I didn’t know it either until the spirit of a dead little girl taught it to me,” Rhaseris told her. “Would you like me to teach it to you? It’s very easy to learn.”

The Princess’ statement successfully wiped the grin off Sybelien’s face. “Did they torture you and damage your mind?” She asked.

“No, I’m as sane as I’ll likely ever be,” Rhaseris readily answered. “When the little girl was still alive, the doll you hold in your hands belonged to her. Her name was Neesa and now it’s the name of the doll. Jabbit sent you to bring her to me, am I right?”

Sybelien nodded. “Yes, he sent me to give it to you,” she confirmed. “I’ve also a message for you. The boss ordered me to remind you of something - you’re a priestess and you’re not allowed to become a martyr.”

“Well, then tell your boss I was quite happy as his priestess,” Rhaseris huffed. “It wasn’t my choice to get abducted – again. But just like the first time it happened, no one asked me what I wanted!”

Sybelien felt relieved by Rhaseris outburst and smiled once more. “I think he just wanted to tease you,” she said and held the rag doll through the opening in the door. “Come and get her, maybe Neesa can comfort you.”

Rhaseris took the doll. “I know you’re right. Probably Evanis got on his nerves and he took it out on me!” She laughed and took the doll. “Thank you, Sybelien. Neesa will do much more than comfort me, she’ll protect me.”

Sybelien smiled and nodded, then closed the opening and left. On her way out, she stopped at another door and looked inside but only to grin at the bloody beaten man lying on another bare bunk in another tiny cell.

She had never liked Fyn Rhosson.


The scheduled meeting of the Midnight Council took place in one of the better taverns in ‘Drowned Rats Haven’, a north-eastern district of Katerra, near the border of the Ewu. The district had been named in reference to a flood disaster which had happened a few centuries ago. Of course, ‘The Lost Losel’ was closed for the public to host the meeting but one of the council members was a part owner of the tavern and the loss in revenue was generously compensated anyway.

Two big, sturdy men led the Queen of Whores and her two escorts into a secluded back room of the tavern. The spacious room usually was used for the occasional betting events or the even rarer, closed party celebrations. True to tradition, tonight as always, Inandrey Danjala was the last council member to arrive. This year, Sandrovan Thar’Haghanosh, the Warlord of the ‘Silent Hand’, headed the table of the council meetings. The little obese man’s flickering eyes followed Inandrey and her escorts as they entered the room and took their places at the long table. The other four members of the Midnight Council and their attendants already had taken their seats and politely nodded in appreciation.

“Welcome, my Lady Danjala,” Sandrovan greeted. “The time spent joyfully anticipating your arrival always pales in comparison to the splendor of the true event. Tonight even more than usual, as you brought your beautiful daughter, Anseyla, with you.”

Inandrey graciously smiled at the little man. “Thank you for your kind words, my Lord,” she returned the greeting. “It’s also always a pleasure to meet with you all, my old friends and trusted companions. I called for this meeting because of news and revelations I recently became aware of and I want to share them with you. I’m certain the reappearance of the Order of the Bhansun constitutes a great concern for all of us. In addition to the news you already received, I want to inform you that this morning my family was attacked a second time. The Bhansun killed a dear friend of my older daughter and abducted a guest of mine, who the priesthood even now keeps as a prisoner at the Marble Cemetery.”

“Could you please enlighten us, Inandrey, about the reasons for the priesthood’s sudden interest in your daughter Evanis and some of your guests?” Onessa Ghala’Dansha, the Lady of ‘The Whisperers’, inquired.

“Certainly, darling, but I’ll leave it to Anseyla,” the Queen of Whores answered. “For this very reason, she requested to accompany me to our meeting. She is intimately familiar with the situation - as well as the key players in this drama - much more than I am.”

Immediately, all eyes turned on her daughter.

“This is a little awkward,” Anseyla hesitantly started. “I am here on behalf of a... ,” she paused and sighed. “On behalf of a very special young man.”

Warlord Jorsha Sammon jumped off his chair. “The same special young man who came to town with your sister Evanis and who robbed me of my right hand, Sybil Ghyssa?” He loudly demanded to know.

“Yes, Jorsha,” Anseyla patiently answered. “And it should make you realize how very special this young man is. Otherwise, Sybil never would have left your side - and you know it.”

Jorsha grumbled something intangible but sat down again and grew quiet.

“The young man’s name is Jabbit,” Anseyla resumed. “As Jorsha mentioned, my sister Evanis brought him to Katerra; him and the Princess of Danuba, Rhaseris. She was the guest whom the Bhansun abducted this morning. As I said, I am here to offer you a proposal on behalf of Jabbit.”

“A proposal for us, the Midnight Council?” Warlord Thar’Haghanosh asked surprised. “Now I’m curious; what kind of proposal could a young man - a man I never even heard of before - offer to the Midnight Council?”

“His proposal will not disappoint your curiosity,” Anseyla answered smiling brightly. “Here it is - If you’ll fully support the claim of the last daughter of Callandrea Rossano’Shenta to the Alorian throne, you’ll be rewarded with the opportunity to further serve the reawakened Alorian Empire and its new Empress, Sybelien Rossano’Shenta.”

 
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