The Gauntlet Thrown - Lord Bent's Manor Vol. 2
Copyright© 2025 by Commissum
Chapter 13
Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 13 - The second novel in the world of Lord Peter Bentencourt, an earth born magic user now living on the magical world of Kreven. Volume two continues after the events of the first novel, Fire and Ice. Beware, the ethics of Kreven are unlike those of Earth. Also, book one has a map of the Mirror Lake region.
Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Mind Control Lesbian Heterosexual Fiction Magic non-anthro DomSub Spanking Group Sex Cream Pie Masturbation Oral Sex Pregnancy Squirting Hairy Size
Hamm dropped off the party of four at the passenger dock in Priam’s Cove just after ten in the morning. As it was the day before Sacrament Day, the harbor was busy and the streets full with people wanting to finish their trade before taking the next day for rest and reverence. Peter was amused watching Jaciee as the excited fourteen-year-old chattered away incessantly with her mother.
Each of them carried two of the potted apple tree saplings while Nahuul trailed along behind, guiding herself by holding onto Bella’s elbow. The slave was wearing a light hooded robe over her normal shift which mostly hid her dragon parasitic tentacles. The saplings the other two women carried were an addition distraction which kept the curious from taking note of the Nahuul’s appearance.
Bella was a mix of emotions: excitement at seeing her son, trepidation at taking another step toward seeing her daughter off on her own, and annoyance at Peter for the last-minute trip her Lord had set her on. She was also annoyed at her husband, Hamm. Peter had winced when the man let slip the comment, ‘This will be like a vacation for me!’ when she announced that she and Jaciee were leaving the island and would be gone for up to a week
They agreed to delay purchasing Nahuul’s clothing until the return trip, so he sent the women into a nearby bakery to purchase traveling snacks while he visited the Entertainer’s Guild. Journeyman Pershner was not currently present, but he left word with the guild’s desk attendant about postponing Bemilda’s music tutoring indefinitely.
Peter would still be responsible for a minimum payment during the period of suspension, and he suspected the Journeymen would happily double dip until the tutoring was resumed. When the agent asked the reason for the delay, Peter explained that his island was currently under quarantine due to a rare magical malady. He knew Nahuul’s appearance would be fresh in Journeyman Pershner’s mind, so the story would likely hold up.
Peter met up with the three women, and they made their way to the Twin Tower Bridge crossing the Greystone River. The two guards stationed there were curious about the plants or the blind slave and challenged them at the South Tower Entry Arch. He displayed an old Order marker, and they waved the group through. He technically no longer had the authority to wield the marker, but they dared not inquire. If they had, he still had Sala’s medallion as a backup, but he preferred to keep that concealed as much as possible.
They ran into Torl just outside Berg’s Livery and instructed the man to quickly ready a fast team and his carriage. While Torl went off to do just that, Peter went into the office to pay Berg the extra he would demand for the sudden trip commissioned without notice. Inside, he found Shalla, one of Berg’s mistresses, working at a ledger. The passive woman bode him to wait momentarily while she went off to fetch the liveryman, who was currently in the privy.
Berg handled his unexpected travel plans well, especially after imposing his short notice surcharge. As he was currently short a second driver, Peter had to agree to sit up top and help Torl with the driving, at least as far as the inn. There, he intended to hire Henri’s stableman Carth to assist Torl. He was sure Carth would enjoy another jaunt over the mountains, this time hopefully without the dragon battle they’d experienced last time. They were on the Metal Highway heading north towards the Junction before noon.
The road was dry and the traffic moderate so Torl made good time. An hour into the journey, Torl pulled over to let Peter drive. Peter was rusty, but the road was wide, so even passing loaded ore wagons would pose no trouble. Once they were moving and Torl judged Peter capable, the driver reached into the storage lugs behind the driver’s seat and retrieved a leather-wrapped crossbow. He noted Peter’s questioning look.
“I was not sure if you knew the use of a crossbow, Milord. I figured that if there was need, you would have defended us using some arcane magics.”
“I’ve fired a crossbow a time or two, Torl,” Peter replied, “but you were probably right keeping it away from me, as it’s been a long time. And while I do have some offensive magic, it would be better to rely on the crossbow if we meet bandits.”
“You can drive until we reach the inn, then, Milord,” Torl said. “Once we’re onto the pass and beyond, Carth and I will alternate. I know Miss Henri’s stable hand is a fair shot with the bolt.”
“How safe is the pass now that spring is upon us?” Peter asked.
“No bandits as of yet, Lord Bentencourt. There have been a few boar trolls moving about, and a crag lion was spotted in the Near Forest. I think the Order roadmen raised a bounty, and it’s been chased out of the area.”
Peter was glad he had stocked his battle cloak with a few bottles of his more effective potions. He had two bottles each of firesplash and quicksleep potions that worked on both two- and four-legged foes. Also, Bella knew where the blades were hidden in the carriage compartment. If needed, she could arm herself and Jaciee, although Nahuul would be a worry. Peter hoped the journey would need neither potions or blades.
Two hours later, after turning west at the Junction, they stopped by a small stream to take a quick break. Peter impressed Torl when he used one of his new spells to quickly boil water for tea. Heat magic was not a type Peter previously possessed but with the ice crystal hidden in his leather cloak, the task was now manageable. Luckily, Torl never noticed the small section of stream water that was now frozen after utilizing the crystal.
They arrived at the Stoney Brook Inn around four in the afternoon. Henri, the innkeeper and Bemi’s mother, was outside serving ale at the patio tables and saw his carriage pull to a stop. Peter waved to her and climbed down after Torl.
“Peter!” Henri called out. “This is an unexpected visit. What brings you to my inn, and why are you driving your own carriage?”
“Greetings, Henri!” he called back. “Just a quick stop to drop off two guests for you. I have urgent business over the hump and can’t stay myself.”
He helped Bella and Jaciee out of the carriage first. “You remember Stren’s mother and sister?”
Henri set her tray down and walked over to the driveway. “Of course I do! Welcome Bella, and ... Jaciee, is it?”
“Yes Ma’am,” Jaciee said with a polite curtsy.
“Hello, Henri,” Bella said, stepping forward to give her a quick hug. “I want to thank you for making my boy write me that letter last week. I know you had a hand in that.”
Peter reached back into the carriage and took Nahuul’s hand. He paused, letting her access his vision, and helped her step down from the carriage. “Jaciee, please see Nahuul to the privy.”
He handed Nahuul off to the teenager and walked to where Henri and Bella stood watching.
“Henri, might I borrow Carth for a few days? I was driving because Berg was short a driver, and Torl needed a second. We’re pressing on shortly and hope to reach the Vent before midmorning.”
“Why aren’t you staying here for the night as usual?” Henri asked.
“Henri, the morning freight traffic will slow us down on the pass. We’d get to the Vent late in the day—too late for my needs, I’m afraid.”
“Carth is in the stable,” she said, clearly not pleased at the thought of losing her employee. “If he agrees, he has my leave to go with you. Of course, this will leave my stable shorthanded.”
“Jaciee and I will help,” Bella offered. “She likes horses, and I’m no stranger to outdoor chores. Besides, Lord Bent brought us here so Jaciee can explore her potential summer employment. Having to help out in the stables might be one of the tasks required of her, might it not?”
“It certainly would, Bella,” Henri agreed. “Thank you for the offer. Your son helps out most days too, if only for an hour or so. Speaking of Stren, I expect him and Master Lorel to arrive any moment. They usually close the smithy well before sundown.”
She turned back to Peter. “Go ask Carth. While you do that, I’ll instruct the cook to prepare an early supper for you and some snacks for your trip. Will the blind girl be traveling with you or remaining here?”
“Nahuul will be traveling with me to the Vent,” he replied.
“Snacks for four and two flagons of cold, strong tea for later. If you must cross the Pass at night, it’s best to do so with drivers who are wide awake.”
“Thank you, Henri. I’ll join you inside momentarily.”
Peter went to the stable to make his pitch to Carth. As expected, the young man was eager for another trip over the Pass and agreed to meet him inside the inn after washing up. As Peter walked back to the inn, a tired-looking Stren and Master Lorel came over the hill from the smithy. He waited outside for them, then followed the pair inside. While Stren reconnected with his mother and sister, Peter poured Master Lorel an ale from the bar and led him to an empty table.
“Much appreciated, Lord Bentencourt! How fare you?” Lorel asked after taking a healthy drink.
“Very well, Master Smith,” Peter replied. “How fares your new apprentice?”
“Stren is performing splendidly so far. Thank you for introducing him to me,” Lorel said.
“How goes the smithy?”
“Also, very well, Milord,” Lorel replied.
Peter caught the slight frown that accompanied the smith’s response. He considered how to broach his offer and decided on an indirect approach.
“I’m glad to hear that, but I was actually hoping to learn you were short of work,” he said with a casual air.
“Oh? Do tell,” Lorel replied, intrigued.
Peter went on to explain how he had just been made reeve of a large estate half a day’s walk south of Priam’s Cove, and about the estate’s currently unsatisfactory relationship with its traveling smith. He finished by expressing regret that Lorel seemed to be prospering here, as he was eager to find an accomplished smith willing to relocate to the estate.
Lorel thanked him for the news and said he’d keep an eye out for a smith seeking to relocate. Peter caught the glint in the man’s eye that suggested he had him nibbling at the hook. On his return from the Vent, Peter intended to set that hook. The delay would give the prideful master smith time to convince himself it was in his best interest to relocate.
Half an hour later, after a hasty early supper, Torl guided the team back onto the road, and the carriage headed toward Hale Pass. If all went well on the ascent, they’d reach the top an hour after sunset and begin the descent in the moonlit darkness. Running the pass at night wasn’t common, but with favorable weather, it wasn’t too dangerous. Plus, Peter’s carriage was well equipped with fae lighting, ensuring the roadway would be adequately lit.
He sat in the carriage’s rear seat with Nahuul beside him. Opposite them, tied into the front seat by a blanket, were the four potted saplings. The blind woman held his hand and used his sight to take in the views as they climbed the mountain switchbacks.
“It’s too bad we’re on the pass this late. An hour earlier and we would have been able to watch the sun setting over the Plains of Asbaddica from the saddle. It’s quite a sight to behold.”
“This ‘sight’ is enough, Lord Bentencourt,” Nahuul replied.
Peter realized she was nervous about their route. “Are you afraid of heights, Nahuul?”
The woman hesitated as if considering his question. “No, this Nahuul is not afraid of heights, Milord. I am simply unused to this type of travel.”
“What do you mean?” Peter asked.
“When I served the dragons, I was often carried aloft by them. I grew to be unafraid once I understood that if I were dropped, they’d catch me. They did so often, trying to terrorize us humans. Nahuul got used to it. This carriage seems ... riskier somehow. There’s is no one to catch us if we fall, but I will trust you.”
“That is a good attitude,” he replied. “ Torl and Carth are careful drivers, though. Torl has made this crossing at least a hundred times, and the full moon will rise soon. We will be fine.”
Shortly after, the long day combined with the carriage’s rocking took effect as Peter closed his eyes and dozed off. Nahuul lost access to his borrowed sight, but she kept holding his hand all the same. The active connection between their minds gave her comfort, and she relaxed, leaning over to rest against his shoulder. She quickly fell asleep beside her master.
Peter came awake later when the carriage stopped and Torl and Carth climbed down. He was confused, having just experienced a vivid, strange dream. Nahuul stirred beside him, and he realized they were still holding hands.
“Where are we?” he croaked to the drivers.
“At the top of the Pass, Milord,” Torl said. “We’re resting the team and checking the brakes for the descent.”
“‘Tis a beautiful night, Lord Bentencourt,” Carth added.
Peter felt the frost crystal in his leather cloak’s hidden pocket and mentally refreshed the charm that connected the gem to the garment.
“Come, Nahuul,” he said. “Let’s stretch our legs for a moment.”
They stepped down from the carriage into the silent darkness of the mountaintop pass. Rarely for the Pass, the saddle was utterly still, without a breath of wind. Above, the star-filled skies stretched clear of clouds, and to the east, the full moon had risen high enough to cast its doppelgänger twin onto the surface of distant Mirror Lake.
“What a splendid view, Nahuul,” Peter exclaimed with a sigh. “Here, take my hand—quickly!”
Nahuul took his hand and borrowed his vision to take in the scene. Off to the southeast, twenty miles away as the crow flies, shone the lights of Priam’s Cove. Peter muttered a sight-enhancement spell and looked beyond the city. There, at the edge of his vision, flickered the blue glow of the warning marker he maintained on the northern end of his island.
“That blue light is the Cursed Mark,” he explained softly. “It’s a pulsating fae light I maintain in a small lighthouse on the northern end of my island. It warns of nearby underwater rocks and also serves to frighten the tits off anyone seeking to plunder my manor in the dark.”
“How far, Milord?” Nahuul asked.
“About forty miles, as the bird flies,” he replied. “Or, as you’ve experienced today, a full day’s travel by carriage, not counting the few hours we spent at Priam’s Cove and the Inn.”
They returned to the carriage, where the men were inspecting the braking gear and watering the horses.
“The night’s perfect, Torl,” Peter said. “My slave and I will walk across the saddle to the western edge. Please pick us up there once the horses have recovered.”
As they crossed the saddle of the Pass, Peter recounted his last journey over it. Nahuul listened eagerly to the tale of the battle between Harkon and the rogue male ice dragon. When he described the battle wizard’s death after triggering the ice dragon’s freeze traps, Nahuul interrupted, “That dragon was part of the royal court, Milord. Only males in the court possess the magic to create such freezing traps.”
“Interesting,” Peter replied thoughtfully. “Did Mohennial Sala learn of this when she ... questioned you?”
“I do not think so, Lord Bentencourt.”
“Speak of this to no one, Nahuul.”
“As you command, Milord.”
The view from the western edge of the saddle was less striking, overlooking the dark Near Forest followed by a the equally dark, mostly uninhabited Plains of Asbaddica. They could see sporadic lights from the inns and hamlets along the Timber Trail, as well as occasional campfires scattered across secluded forest meadows.
To the northwest, nearly thirty miles away, a faint red glow reflected off the underside of steam clouds rising from the cone of Rumble Mountain. Their destination, the Vent, lay just this side of that mountain, still hidden. Still, Peter pointed it out to Nahuul, who took in the sight silently, keeping her thoughts to herself.
He guided Nahuul off the road and assisted her in relieving herself, using the last of the paper he kept in a pocket for such purposes. More was stored in the carriage, and he reminded himself to restock, as her outfit lacked pockets. From the east, the sound of the approaching carriage now reached them, so he quickly tended to his own needs and led Nahuul back to the road. Soon after, they were back on the switchback road, descending carefully.
Three hours later, around midnight, they arrived at the Lumberman, the largest of three inns just north of the junction of Hale Pass Road and the Timber Trail. The inn was full, its common room now hushed under enforced quiet, so Peter chose to sleep the rest of the night in his carriage. His cloak would keep him warm, while Nahuul’s implanted ice-dragon crystal shard did the same for her
Torl knew the inn’s surly stablehand well enough to risk waking him to unlock the stable. After unharnessing the two horses and tending to their needs in the stable, Torl and Carth joined a few drivers and teamsters too cheap to stay in the inn, bedding down with them in the hayloft. They’d resume their trek with fresh horses at dawn.
As before, Nahuul held Peter’s hand as they slept. This time, she drifted off before he did, and he became aware of their active mental link. It was too diffuse to transmit memories or conscious thoughts, but he realized his earlier strange dreams had likely stemmed from this connection. Since no harm seemed to result and she slept so soundly, he let it persist.
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