Chapter 9: Lust’s Daughter

Thrak – The Free City of Raratha

Night cloaked the beach beneath the Saltspray Palace. The waves crashing into the shore had a faint tinge of glowing blue, a phosphorescent churned by the foam and only revealed in darkness. I studied it, pondering what could cause the glow.

A property of sea water? An organism in the waves? A chemical polluting the ocean?

Thinking about the cause was better than waiting and brooding on the robbery. Better than staring up the dark cliff to the palace waiting for the appearance of Xera and Minx, their theft complete and without incident. The Doge would not suspect Angela and in two days, she would leave the city with Sophia, Faoril, and Chaun, rendezvousing with the pirate ship we had contracted.

The ship anchored on the horizon, a black shape occulting the rising stars. The Golden Hunger captained by Thyrna, a predatory human female with lush lips and hungry eyes. She made my blood boil when we met.

She would make the trip to the Isle of Birds and beyond ... interesting.

“Tide’s shifting,” one of the brawny pirates said. He stood by the longboat pulled onto the sand. “Your friends needs hurry.”

I faced the man. “We wait.”

The rumble of my voice made him flinch. The pirates Thyrna recruited were all large men, powerfully built, muscular humans who dwarfed the average of their race. But I was an orc. I stood taller, my shoulders wider, my muscles stronger. They knew I could break them. They feared me.

Everyone feared me when they met me. Even Faoril.

I turned my head from the glowing froth to stare at the palace. If things had gone wrong, there was nothing I could do but wait.

“Be safe, Faoril,” I whispered.

Chaun – The Free City of Raratha

Pain burned in my belly, kept at bay by my singing. The melody flowed from my lips as I lay on the marble floor of the feast hall. I stared up at the vaulted ceiling. A painting crossed it, ships sailing the dark sea battling sea serpents while mermaids swam around it, strange flowers in their vibrant hair.

I had to keep singing, to convince my body not to die. I only had a gaping hole in my belly left by Incessae, the erinyes bitch. I wasn’t the target of her vengeance, and yet I was the first person she attacked.

She feared my song. Music held power. Even one not trained at the Bardic College could move an audience to laughter, to joy, to sorrow, and to despair. Songs could uplift or dismay. Incessae feared the lusts my song would inspire in her body.

I never thought my music would make me a target over a knight with Angela’s martial prowess. Maybe joining the quest was a mistake? Maybe I should have said no to Lady Delilah? I could have stayed safe skulking in taverns and low-born common rooms, singing for copper pennies, a warm bowel of stew, and a dry place to sleep.

But greed had seized me. I wanted back all I lost when I was caught abed with my sweet Princess Adelaide by her jealous husband. And our brief stay in the Doge’s palace reinforced to me where I belonged. My talents were meant to entertain the powerful, to earn me the rewards of golds, fine clothing, perfumes, and the presence of noble ladies for me to seduce and fuck beneath their husbands’ noses. Often wearing their husbands’ appearances.

But was dying worth it?

Since I agreed to Lady Delilah’s plan to aide Angela in her quest, barguests had attacked me. I wandered through dwarven mines haunted by a mad wraith who tried to steal my soul. Even an avalanche was dropped on us. Boulders could have buried me alive.

And now a furious demigoddess had stabbed me through the stomach. And Angela still had other dangerous to face in her quest, culminating at the dragon.

Was life at court and the fame of being a bard worth all this pain and suffering?

But if I did earn a spot in a court, if Lady Delilah upheld her end of the bargain, I would have my fame and prestige back. I would be the centerpiece of my lord’s entertainment. I would perform for all his noble visitors, impressing them with my skill, wooing them. And maybe I would see her again.

Princess Adelaide appeared in my memory, lush and beautiful, dressed only in her blonde hair like she had the night I was caught in her bed wearing her husband’s appearance. I had loved her so much that night, like I had every other night.

And she had sung her love for me.

Could I have her back? If I was a court bard again, could I see her, play for her, and love her again? Maybe I could steal her from that foul husband of hers. Rescue her like she always she dreamed of when we lay in bed, whispering our desires.

It was a foolish dream. Impossible. Her husband would never let her go. And he would never visit a court where I played. He would keep his wife away from me.

But I could have the rest. I could have it all back if I had the courage to risk the dangers. And there was the prophecy to consider. I was chosen. I did not understand how Lady Delilah knew I was chosen. Maybe I should tell Angela about who hired me.

She should know.

Later. If I don’t die. I had to keep singing and Angela had to keep fighting.

Incessae

Angela’s stolen partisan, liberated from the inept guards of the Doge, crashed into my fiery spear. Sparks flew as Angela snarled. Her naked breasts heaved and her flaming hair spilled about her shoulders.

Exhilaration washed through me as our weapons clashed together again. She was a magnificent creature. Skilled, fast, unafraid. She fought without armor, the seed of her centaur lover dripping out of her cunt, unfazed by her nudity. She was focused on killing me.

Well, I did threaten her lover.

Tonight, Mother’s vengeance would be meted out. The High King’s foul sword would never be reforged. His kingdom would never again mar the world. Mother was too soft-hearted. She never should have allowed the High King’s daughter Lily to live and breed, even if her and her descendants only produced daughters incapable of ruling any kingdom.

Angela worked the partisan with the same skill she fought with her sword. She stabbed and then used the weapon’s crossguard to parry my spear, keeping me from finding her flesh. She slapped my spear down, then thrust it forward, forcing me to leap back.

The Doge’s guards rushed around us, their bronze armor gleaming in the light of my spear, flaring bright like stoked flames when my weapon struck Angela’s. Awe crossed the men’s faces as they watched us. And lust. I was also naked. I never wore clothing. I wasn’t ashamed of the lush body I possessed.

But their eyes fixed on me, lusting after me, stirred my weakness. The hot itch in my cunt grew. The first beads of excitement dewed my cunt. I let out a snarl of frustration as my nipples hardened. I lunged harder at Angela.

“Slata curse you!” I roared at Angela and at my perverted father for burdening me with his lusts. The soldier’s eyes vexed me. “Don’t just watch. Secure the acolyte.”

“No,” Angela shouted as a pair of the soldiers, under orders from their captain, broke away and rushed at the naked acolyte. “Don’t touch her.”

Angela’s anger appeared in her attacks. Her partisan thrust harder. She rushed at me, her naked feet smacking on the tiles. Her passion was ... inspiring. Her breasts heaved. They were almost hypnotic the way they bounced and—

No!

Focus. I was not weak. I would not let father’s lusts poison me.

I screamed, focusing on my rage—Mother’s vengeance—and parried her next thrust. Then I lunged, moving my weapon in a circle to dodge around the partisan’s crossguard and enter into her reach, my weapon thrusting for her belly.

Acolyte Sophia

Angela needed my help.

I cast my eyes around for my discarded clothing. My robes lay in a pile nearby. My legs trembled from the orgasms the sphinx had gifted me. I forced down the exhausting bliss. I could not afford to lie in a pleasure coma.

I had to help Angela. I wasn’t weak any longer.

Weapons rang and sparks cracked as I rushed to my robes. I fell to my knees and dug through the piled linen, searching for my pouch hanging from my robe’s belt. The pouch clattered. My hands fumbled to unbury it from the cloth.

“Come on,” I hissed in frustration as somehow, my pouch had ended up in the robe’s sleeve and lay tangled. “Slata’s hairy cunt!”

I pulled out my pouch in triumph. I opened it up. Glass clinked together. I pulled out a healing potion for Chaun, who seemed to be singing to keep himself from bleeding to death, and my enchanted dagger.

It glowed pink, warning me of danger.

I grasped the handle in triumph and stood up, anger burning in my face. That erinyes bitch would have to—

“Pater’s disgusting cock,” I groaned at the sight of two of the Doge’s soldiers rushing straight for me, each clutching a long polearm of some type in hand. Beyond them, the bald Doge screamed orders at his other guards as they gathered around Angela, watching her duel the erinyes.

“Drop the dagger,” the first guard said. He shouldered his polearm and reached out to grab me while the second guard circled to my right.

“Stop!” I shouted as his male hand reached for my naked flesh. “I am an priestess of Saphique. Any man who touches me will be cursed by my Goddess.”

The first guard froze before he could grab me. The second guard cursed beneath his breath. “She’s a priestess, all right. Look at the robe.”

“Of Saphique,” I reiterated, my heart hammering. I had to do something. What?

“Help the erinyes!” the Doge shouted at his men. “Don’t just stand there like pretty statues.”

“Well, we don’t have to touch her to herd her,” the first guard said, lowering his weapon at me. The point was sharp.

I sucked in a deep breath as it hovered a foot from my flesh. The other guard lowered his blade. I stood there, trembling, thinking. Would they stab me with their blades? Those points were so sharp. They would skewer me.

What could I do besides dropping my dagger? But that wouldn’t help Angela in her duel. There had to be something else I could do. Something that would help. Be useful. But would could it be? I backed away from the guards, their weapons’ points tracked me.

“Don’t be stupid, priestess,” the second soldier said. “I don’t want your Goddess to curse me, but you have to surrender.”

The first guard suddenly growled. His weapon blurred as it stabbed past me. I shrieked and jumped before I realized he didn’t pierce me with the point. Instead, his weapon shot past me. Then he yanked it back, the crossguard catching the back of my knee and jerking my leg out from beneath me.

I fell onto my back. Which hurt. A lot.

I coughed, clutching my knife and healing bottle in desperate grip. I didn’t let the pain keep me from moving. I had fallen from my horse before. That hurt worse. I rolled over and gained my feet, darting around the second guard as he thrust with his weapon. I leaped over it, stopping him from tripping me.

“Vedr’s queef!” he snarled.

I almost giggled at the vulgarity of his curse. I would have if my heart wasn’t hammering in fear. My feet slapped on the tiled floor as I ran as hard as I could. I had no idea where I would flee to. The guards’ armor clinked as they charged behind me. There had to be something I could do to lose their pursuit so I could help Angela.

I cast my gaze around the room. The nobility pressed on the edges, watching the fight with a mix of fear and excitement. A new entertainment for them to enjoy. None of them would be helpful. The Doge continued to shout his orders and...

The Doge.

An idea popped into my head. It was pretty dumb, but I didn’t have anything better to try. I changed the direction I ran.

Knight-Errant Angela

I backpedaled as Incessae’s spear lunged at my stomach. My feet slapped on the ground as I moved away, giving me time to slam my partisan into her haft and deflect her point from finding my stomach. Then I lunged in.

Her wings flapped, and she lifted into the air and flew back, landing in her stance, her spear leveled. Her pale cheeks burned crimson, and fat, pink nipples were erected. Her silver nipple rings glinted as her breasts heaved.

She was aroused.

My anger slowed. Incessae was a skilled fighter. I would be hard pressed to defeat her even with the longer reach of the partisan. But I couldn’t kill an erinyes. They were immortal, demigoddesses born of Slata and Las.

Lust was the key to defeating them. Her nipples were hard, and in the reflected light of her spear’s fire, juices glinted on her thighs. Her eyes smoldered, glowing brighter and brighter with every moment as they stared at me.

At my heaving tits.

“Do you like my tits?” I asked as I lunged in.

“What?” she hissed, smacking my partisan down.

“My tits? Do you like them?” I pressed my arms together, squeezing my tits into two thrusting mounds. “Aren’t they beautiful? I think I have a great pair of tits. Like yours. We’re about the same size.”

“Shut up!” she hissed as she lunged. “I’m here to kill you, not ogle your tits.”

I parried her attack, our weapons sparking together. “You sure? You keep staring at my tits. Do you think I should pierce my nipples? I like your silver rings. Sexy.”

“Cunt!”

Minx

Xera and I dived apart as the faerie guarding the Doge’s Great Vault unleashed her magic. My skin tingled as a rush of pink energy washed between us and crashed into the floor. The magic rolled across the stone like foamy water, crackling with pink and purple sparks then fading into glittering dust. I gained my feet and cast a gaze over my shoulder at the faerie.

We were expecting her. The Doge had her imprisoned and forced to guard his treasures. And that meant there were iron runes inscribed about the room, forming a magic circle that would keep her imprisoned.

Faeries hated iron.

Her wings, a purple blur behind her, hummed as she hovered in the middle of the Vault. She was the size of a short human female, with pale skin covered in glittering specks of gold. Purple hair floated about the beautiful creature and her lush breasts heaved.

“You should not be here!” she shouted. “Leave, now!”

“I don’t want to,” I laughed. I had to be the distraction while Xera, with her keen eyes, sought out the runes. According to Faoril, they had to be inside the Vault. “I’m here to see if the stories about you are true.”

“What stories?” the faerie demanded, her hands going to her hips. “Huh?”

“That you are the ugliest faerie in the world. I mean, I thought it was true, but I didn’t realize how ugly you were.”

“Ugly?” A shrill shriek echoed through the vault. “You think I’m ugly, halfling?”

“Oh, yes. I’ve seen ogre backsides that were prettier than you.”

“I am Princess Siona,” the faerie hissed. “I am the most beautiful daughter of Queen Sidhe, the most radiant Faerie Queen. How dare you call me ugly. Call me pretty”

“You’re as pretty as a boil on a barguest’s cock,” I laughed.

She shrieked so loud my ears rang. It echoed through the room. Her purple hair stood on ends as the room crackled with her fury. I dodged through the priceless treasures the Doge had collected, weaving between statues carved of rare stones or cast from precious metals. I dived over chest stuffed with gems and gold coins. I dodged around plinths holding expensive jewelry.

I snatched a pendant with a diamond the size of my fist.

Behind me, the magic crashed into the works of art, knocking over the plinths, cracking the wood of the chest, and rocking the statues on their bases. They wobbled and teetered, threatening to fall over as I laughed, sparks dancing through the air.

“If you are the most beautiful daughter of Queen Sidhe,” I called, “then your mother must be so ugly!”

“She is a radiant being, not a filthy little halfling with such an ugly haircut.”

“It’s practical,” I shrugged. “Your mother is so ugly she sours fresh milk.”

“My mother only sours milk to punish wicked humans! She is not ugly!” The faerie stamped her foot in mid air. “Not ugly at all. You take that back! We’re both beautiful!”

“You’re so ugly, the Doge locked you in his basement to spare his citizens the horror of your visages!”

“You horrible rat!”

Magic lashed out, crashing in a statue before me. I laughed, my feet sliding on the floor as I changed directions. “Your aim is also terrible. Is your ugliness interfering in—”

Marble hands seized my arms. The statue she hit with magic had animated. It lifted me into the air. My legs kicked as I struggled to escape, but the fingers held me tight. The faerie princess fluttered before me, her face twisted with rage.

“You take it all back right now! I am the most beautiful creature you have ever seen. Say it! Stop lying!”

I glanced at Xera as she searched the room. She needed to hurry.

“Say it!” Sharp fingernails pressed against my cheek. Each was painted a deep purple. “I am radiant. Admit it!”

“Xera,” I said, trembling, Siona’s boiling eyes boring into my own.

“Keep distracting her.”

Journeyman Mage Faoril

The stump held me fast. I had been tricked. I thought I had the upper hand against Master Mage Yolun, but he was craftier. He trapped me in an ouroboros circle. I couldn’t cast any spells. My magic would rebound.

But I could manipulate spells I had already cast.

“You are calmer than I would have expected after this fight,” Yolun said, eyeing me. “There is no way to escape an ouroboros circle. Not with you constrained.”

“I know,” I lied. I tugged and manipulated the knot of sensations in my mind that was Relaria, dominated by the life magic I learned from Fireeyes’s disgusting book. “Is panicking going to accomplish anything?”

“No, no,” he said, “but considering the punishment for attacking a master mage is death, I would expect fear.”

A flutter of fear hit my heart. I would be declared a warlock if Yolun brought a complaint to the Magery Council. “Well, you attacked me first. You lured me here and then demanded my surrender.”

“On the Doge’s order,” he answered. “I have a contract to serve him.”

“And I have a contract with Knight-Errant Angela. I could not let you interfere in our quest.”

“Quest?” he asked. “To kill rampaging imps?”

That was the lie we told the court. “No. To kill the Dragon Dominari.”

He threw back his head and laughed. “No one has been able to harm the dragon for centuries. And why attack her? She hasn’t ventured out of her desolation in our lifetime, or that of our grandfathers’.”

“Doesn’t mean she won’t rampage again. Her desolation was once prosperous farmland. She burned every croft and farm, sent the peasants fleeing, then roasted the combined armies of the Princes of Zeutch when they came to fight her. What if she strikes out again. No dragon that has ever lived is as dangerous as her.”

“And you think you’ll succeed?” He laughed, confident.

Good. Relaria came closer and closer. Keep him distracted. “With the High King’s sword reforged. Angela is his descendant.”

Yolun’s mouth clamped shut. “A woman? Wielding his sword? The symbol of his authority?”

“The Lesbius Oracle prophesied it. We shall defeat Dominari and lift her shadow from the eastern lands.”

“So that is what has Aurelius in an uproar.” The mage shook his head. “The pommel in his Vault.”

I nodded my head. “So you can understand why your interference is a terrible thing. Imagine the good that we will accomplish.”

“The High King’s sword was broken for a reason. No man should ever rule so much territory.”

“Well, Angela is not a man. She’s a woman. She can’t rule. So what do you, or the nation’s, have to fear?”

“Your motivations may be good, but defying the Magery Council and committing theft from one of the most powerful men in the world is rank folly. I shall deliver you to Esh-Esh and let the Council judge your actions today.”

My heart clenched. I couldn’t let that happen. I had to escape. And no matter what, unless I killed him, he would see me branded a warlock. I would be like Fireeyes. Hunted. I would never gain the black robes and join the rank of Master. Bitterness burned at the back of my throat.

Relaria entered the garden. The lamia moved with stealth, her lithe form darting through the smoldering plants and across the cratered grounds. The garden had been beautiful before our battle commenced.

“There is nothing I can say to change your mind?” I asked. “I am only doing what is right.”

“So am I. And what I am doing is also lawful.”

Relaria moved closer. She wiggled beneath a flowering bush, her tail swishing behind her. I kept a firm control over her body, guiding her behind the stump holding me. My skin tightened as she came closer and closer to freeing me.

I would have to strike fast, overwhelm him the moment Relaria freed me.

The lamia crept closer. She wiggled forward on her belly. She reached the edge of the magic circle imprisoning me. Her clawed finger swiped through the dirt and broke the plane, breaking the force rebounding my magic.

I struck.

My magic surged out of the circle. It did not rebound into me and cause me pain. I seized rocks and hurtled them at Master Yolun, hoping to strike him in the head and render him unconscious. They hissed through the air.

Though shocked, he reacted swiftly.

His magic crashed into the stones. The rocks became dust that sprayed over him in a cloud. He coughed even as I melted the stump holding me into a puddle of liquid wood. I darted to the right and seized the dust around him, trying to harden it into a shell about his body.

My ears popped as a huge gale burst from him, whipping the dust away. My red robes billowed about me. Our magic lunged at each other, waring for control over the elements around us. I formed ice lances out of the air which he melted into steam. He summoned stabbing shards of rock to burst around my feet which I transformed into soft mud before touching me.

We wared with wind, water, earth, and fire. We manipulated the elements. The ground shook and the air boomed. We assaulted each other with our skill. It was a battle to see who ran out of their reserves of sexual fluids first.

But I had the advantage.

Relaria crept around behind Yolun as I battled. The catgirl was fierce. She knew how to claw and subdue a man. I implanted the idea in her head when she was in position while simultaneously hardening the ground beneath my feet back into stone instead of the quicksand threatening to swallow me.