Chapter 1: The Happy Return
Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Fiction, Harem, First, Oral Sex, .
Desc: Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 1: The Happy Return - This is the story of Macro, Prince and heir to the throne of Tanitsar, and how he ended slavery in his homeland. It is also the story of Thesia, a slave girl who becomes the linchpin for the unfolding events, of Alana, a lonely, unhappy princess who has to hide her disfigured face, of Anais, a freed slave and tactical genius, and of Pilar, Thesia's sister and rival, who is desperate to show her mettle. My first attempt at Fantasy.
"Well, Macro, what do you think? Happy to be home again?"
Over the ship's prows, Macro could make out the silhouette of his hometown Tanitsar. The abandoned Great Temple still dominated the city but the New Palace rivalled it both for size and for beauty.
The house in which he lived with his mother and brother was just underneath the Palace, a stone's throw away so to speak, which was convenient since his mother was the First Royal Concubine and spent her days running the Royal Household. She had risen from pleasure slave, through favourite plaything of the King, to being the de facto chief administrator of the palace. Although King Odar had his full contingent of four wives, Javila, Macro's mother, ruled supreme in his heart.
Macro and his brother Lamas had been sired by the King and were his acknowledged natural sons. This fact explained why the young man, at only 24 years of age, already commanded the Royal Archers.
His companion and equal in rank, Ronan, was over forty years old by contrast and in command of the Lancers. Yet they had grown to be friends during the arduous campaign that lay behind them. They respected each other as Macro recognised his friend's superior experience and stout courage while Ronan respected the diligence and valour of the young man who could lead an easy life in luxury, but who put duty above comfort.
It was true that Macro had reasons for being ambitious. Not one of the King's wives had as yet born a male heir, and there was very little hope that they would. The King's younger brother had perished on the seas leaving Macro as one possible successor. As against that, he was a slave's son and the nobles would not easily accept him. Especially since King Odar himself had not succeeded to the throne by inheritance but by overturning his inept predecessor. Military fame would not hurt Macro's ambitions.
He turned to Ronan, finally ready to answer the question. "It's been almost a year. I'm not sure how I will fit into civilian life now."
Ronan nodded. "That's always difficult, but I'm looking forward to seeing my family. Why don't you come by one of the next evenings, so you'll get to know them?"
"I thought you said that you were unmarried?"
"Uh ... yes, I am. I have a concubine though to whom I'm close, and a daughter from her. I was never wealthy enough to find a real wife, and to be honest, I am fond of Teichi and Anais."
"I'd love to come but only if you promise to return the compliment."
"I will, but frankly, your mother intimidates me greatly. They say she has the King's ear, even more so than any of the Queens."
Macro smiled. It was true that Javila was one of the few people to whom the King turned for advice, but in the end he usually followed his own counsel.
"People make more of it than there is," he answered casually. "She speaks her mind, true, but the King is not swayed easily in his decisions, not by anybody."
As the ships drew closer to the harbour, Macro and Ronan could see the black tunics of the Royal Guard lining the street close to the quay. This was tradition. Whenever troops landed in the capital, the Guard was there and made sure they moved on to their garrisons outside of the city, even more so if the troops returned victorious from a war.
In a difficult campaign, Macro and Ronan had vanquished a large force of freebooters in their stronghold on Tabar, the third-largest island under King Odar's rule. Two expedition forces before them had failed, for the freebooters were fearless fighters and well organised. In the end, the tenacity of Ronan and the tactical genius of young Macro had prevailed, and they brought along almost two-hundred surviving pirates as proof of their success, the pirate chief among them.
They transported over one hundred slaves in their holds. Some of these were stolen from their rightful owners, while others had been turned into slaves by the pirates. The latter ones would be reunited with their families. This would not always be a joyous affair, for the women and girls – and the younger boys too – had been used for pleasure by the freebooters.
Tanitsar still relied heavily on slaves for its economy. King Odar, loathing the entire concept of slavery, had taken cautious steps away from this barbaric practice but he had to tread lightly, for the merchants and mine owners were staunch defenders of the old ways. He had, however, banished the enslavement of free citizens of Tanitsar.
This would not change the fate of the captive pirates. They would be accepted with joy by the slave traders. The proceeds from their sale would make the returning soldiers wealthy. The two commanding officers alone would share in three-eighths of the earnings, a quarter was reserved for the subaltern officers, one-eighth would go to the non-commissioned leaders, and one quarter would be distributed among the common soldiery.
Added to this loot would be the finders' fees for the returned slaves, and the expected gratuities from the families of those returned from captivity. Macro expected at least twenty-thousand Tanitsar Guilders, a veritable fortune.
Now the ship approached the quay. Looking aft, Macro saw the other six ships in line and ready to come alongside as well. With a screech and a bump, the ship made contact with the wooden landing. Seconds later, lines secured the ship fore and aft and a gangway was lowered.
The two commanders crossed the narrow strip of water. Behind them, officers and soldiers assembled on the decks of the ships, ready to disembark. Macro and Ronan walked forward to meet the Commander of the Guards. They saluted the man, Gareth by name, who was in charge of the King's safety.
"Commanders Ronan and Macro of the Royal Lancers and the Royal Archers. Permission to land our men?"
"Permission granted," Gareth answered formally before his face broke into a friendly smile. "Welcome, you two! The King awaits you."
"Right away?" Macro asked.
"Right away! I'll see to it that your men are shown to their temporary quarters outside the walls. I shall post guards on the ships to keep watch over your prisoners."
"Thank you, Commander Gareth," Macro answered. "Let us go, Ronan!"
It took just ten minutes of brisk walking to reach the New Palace. The Herald knew Macro, of course, and Macro introduced Ronan.
"Commanders Ronan and Macro, Your Majesty," the man announced as he ushered them into the small audience chamber. King Odar was not a whale for ceremony. He had been a military field commander before he unseated the mad King Lorsa twenty-five years ago. He still had no use for the elaborate court ceremonies which had been the hallmark of the former royal house of Clonal. Macro found his father sitting at a wooden desk that was filled with scrolls and bound books.
"Step closer, Commanders!" he bid them in his usual gruff voice that still conveyed his respect and sympathy. "I've just been over your report again. It does you credit, both of you.
"Commander Ronan, I understand that you want some leisure after your long service for me?"
"My King, I'm not getting younger. I want to spend some time with my family. I mean, I have a daughter by my concubine."
"Tell me about it!" the King grumbled, but he grinned at Macro with affection. "So be it, my friend. But I will not let you go completely. I want you to take over the Academy. Work those boys and girls hard, teach them how to survive and win honour. Will you do that?"
"I am most grateful, Your Majesty!" Ronan beamed.
The post at the academy would allow him to have a normal life near the capital, and yet he would draw a substantial pay.
"Ah, Cup Bearer! Where have you been? Bring some of that wine we got in last week from Hanilei! And glasses!"
The man shuffled hurriedly from the room.
"Macro, I have an appointment for you as well. It will be here in Tanitsar. Your mother would skin me alive if I sent you out again. You have proven yourself and I want you in a position where I can rely on your loyal service. Lamas will take over Gareth's post as Commander of the Guards next month, but I want you as my new Vice-regent of Tanitsar."
Macro was speechless for a second. The Vice-regent of Tanitsar ruled the capital and the main island. He answered only to the King. The Guard would be exempt from his command but the guard would be commanded by his own brother. It was a high compliment, a huge responsibility, and a solid promise of future favour.
"I am overwhelmed, my Father and King. I shall enforce your laws and will as best I can."
"I know you will, Son," the King sighed. "Come and join me for dinner tonight. The Queens will be there, as will your mother of course."
He chuckled with that last addition. In over twenty years, King Odar had rarely eaten a meal without Javila. Odar did not fear enemies, nor disease or death. He feared one thing only – that Javila would die before him.
"I shall be there, my Father and King!" Macro answered, bowing to show his respect.
"You too, Ronan! Be there! And bring your family!"
"My King, my ... companion is but a slave, a concubine, and my daughter is not yet free, either."
"Bring them anyway, Ronan. This way, you will get an even fiercer welcome from them." He guffawed. "It will be a private dinner, only families. And you know my stance on the slavery issue."
"Yes, my King. We shall attend. My most humble thanks."
"Humbug! I shall want to see more of you. I want that Academy reformed thoroughly, and you are the man to do it."
On their way out they were intercepted by a regal looking woman. She was not overly tall but her bearing made her a dominating presence. Javila, First Royal Concubine, was used to being respected. She wore a slave ring around her neck but she wore it like a crown. It was more valuable than most crowns for that matter.
Over the years, King Odar had shown his affection to the love of his life the only way he could. Slaves were not allowed by law to wear jewellery. They were required to wear the collar. Thus, Javila's collars became more precious with the years. The current one was made of solid gold and studded with large sapphires, sapphires that complimented the wonderful blue eyes of the woman who wore it.
Macro knew that the Queens each had a tiara of the same design. The Queens, all four of them, had joined the King in the years after Javila had risen in his favour. There had been some jealousy early on, but over the years all five women became friends to varying degrees. Perhaps the feelings between the women were stronger than between the King and some of his his wives. All those marriages had been arranged for political gain, to pacify provinces and islands in three cases, and once to cement the friendship with a neighbouring Kingdom.
Javila gave Ronan a friendly nod before she hugged her son tightly.
"I am so proud of you, Macro, and so is the King. Did he tell you?"
"Yes Mother. I hope I can fill those shoes."
"Oh, you will. With Lamas commanding the Guards, and your friend here leading the Academy, Tanitsar is secured for the King."
King Odar was approaching sixty years, and with the lack of a "proper" heir apparent, some nobles grew restive and tried to jockey for power to lay claim on a crown that may become vacant soon.
Ronan noticed that mother and son had things to talk about. He bade his farewell, claiming that the women in his household needed fair warning. Javila clapped her hands sharply and a servant appeared.
"Bring the seamstresses, quickly!" she ordered. Then she turned to Ronan. "I shall send a few helpers with you who will assist your women to dress properly. No need to alarm and distress them."
Ronan protested that his women had proper clothes but Javila lifted her hand.
"I am sure you take good care of them and their needs. But they will not think anything good enough for this dinner. Somebody needs to assure them, and they will not believe you. I wouldn't," she added with an understanding smile.
Within minutes, two seamstresses of the Royal Household were ready to accompany Ronan, and he left thanking Javila for her help.
"Poor Ada is very sick," Javila said once Ronan had left. "You will notice it yourself at dinner tonight. It's a wasting illness, and the healers have given her up. I don't think the King has realised it yet but we shall lose her soon."
Ada, that was Queen Ada, Second Wife, and Macro's least favourite "aunt". Nevertheless, he managed a few words of regret.
"That means King Odar may marry again," Javila continued. "He may yet sire a prince. Don't be bitter when that happens. I know that Odar thinks the world of you and he will provide for you."
"I don't have such a driving ambition. An heir born to the King will be my half-brother, and I shall serve him and the realm as best I can. But how will you feel, with a new, young Queen at the court?"
Javila allowed herself a smile. "I saw him marry four already, and his love for me never waned. Don't worry about me."
The house was worthy of the King's First Concubine. The former Palace of the Princes was built in the old style. An atrium was surrounded by three wings, and on the open side a terrace faced South, offering a spectacular view of the harbour and the ocean beyond. The centre wing housed the Great Hall, with vast kitchens and storage rooms underneath and with the servants' quarters atop. The East wing was Javila's, while her two sons shared in the use of the West wing.
Lamas was at home when Macro arrived and greeted his older brother with obvious joy and pride. For over an hour, they filled each other in on their life during the past year.
By that time, the servants had heated enough water for a bath, and Macro left his brother alone to enjoy the luxury of the bath chamber. It was not just the relaxing warmth of the scented water but he was waited on by his two personal handmaidens. Tamar and Ella had been given to him for his eighteenth birthday, and they had shared his bed and bath ever since until he left for Tabar. They were eager to give him the welcome due to a victorious commander.
It was most regrettable that he did not have the time and leisure to reacquaint himself fully with the two young women. From their looks, he could see that they had missed him too. Of course, with Macro gone they had been relegated to normal household chores. and that had not sat well with them. Plus, both were used to getting their ashes hauled quite regularly and with some skill Macro thought lewdly. With him gone, they too had had a long dry spell.
Unfortunately, he had to prepare himself for the evening. There would be more discussions at dinner, of that he was sure. He needed information about what had gone on in the city in the past year. New laws and royal orders would have an impact on his duties as Vice-regent. He could not just spend the afternoon cavorting with the girls.
They helped him dry off and he dressed quickly. A short walk brought him to the house of the Chief Justice, the Magister Procopius. Macro hoped to find either the man himself or his daughter Jolia. Several years ago, Macro and his brother had spent many hours at that house to receive basic tutoring in the laws of Tanitsar, and Jolia had been schooled with the two boys. She had inherited her father's interest and she was like a walking library. Macro had been fond of her, and he was looking forward to seeing her again.
Edited by SpikeCO