The Black Rabbit - Cover

The Black Rabbit

Copyright© 2017 by Robberhands

Chapter 2

Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 2 - 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  

She stood in front of the large double doors, her gaze fixed on its polished surface. Waiting, she hated waiting, even more so with two guards openly leering at her. She was Evanis Danjala and not used to wait for anyone. Except, of course, when the King of Isostres called for her. Then she would stand here in front of his door and wait like a good little girl. She would wait until it would please the King to see her, even if it would take the whole damn day. Evanis focused her gaze on the door once again. Breathing slow and deep, she counted all the blemishes she could find on its polished surface. There were not nearly enough.

An eternity later she heard the magic words spoken behind the double doors.

“Come in.”

The two guards opened the door, re-closing it after she passed.

Golan Mandorak, the King of Isostres, was sitting behind a wide, massive oak desk. The king watched her intently as she strode through the room. Evanis Danjala was an extraordinary sight.

The sides of her head were shaven and the raven black hair on top woven into a long, thick braid, falling down her back and almost reaching her waist. A black leather cuirass clung to her body and proudly drew attention to the mold of two full round breasts protruding from her chest. The hem of the dark red tunic she wore underneath the leather barely reached the midst of her muscular thighs. An iron falcata swung at her left hip and a long, heavy dagger was strapped to the right. Her appearance was crowned by extensive tattoos on the right side of her body. A Snake writhed around her leg from ankle to thigh before it vanished from sight beneath the hem of her tunic. A mosaic of exotic plants, flowers, and little colorful birds covered the skin from the right side of her neck to her shoulder, and down to her wrist.

She stopped a few yards in front of his desk. The king stood up from behind it, walked up to her and then circled around her.

“Evanis Danjala, the famous mercenary and third commander of the Forsaken Army,” he mused, coming to a stop behind her. “You look like a whore.”

“You are too kind, your Majesty,” Evanis politely replied without turning.

“That reminds me; how is your mother?” The King asked.

“Still in high demand as far as I know,” she answered. “I haven’t seen her or my sister in more than a year.”

“Ah yes, your younger sister. Is she whoring too now?”

“Yes, your Majesty, my mother is very proud of her.”

“I should visit Katerra and see them both for myself,” the king mused. “Maybe soon that will be possible. Do you know who currently claims the throne of the Alorian Empire?”

“One year ago, when I visited Katerra, the banners of Tunapor were flying above the towers of the White Citadel,” Evanis answered. “Is someone else claiming the throne now? Sorry, but I don’t really care and nobody else does either. There have been nearly as many new emperors as years went by since the Yorak raided Katerra. The neighboring kingdoms are fighting over the lands along the Ewu like vultures over a carcass and the city rules itself. There is no Alorian Empire anymore.”

“That’s an apt assessment of the situation and you know very well that Dharos of Tunapor still holds the White Citadel,” the king replied. “Don’t pretend you wouldn’t care; it’s your business to care. Mercenaries like you and the Forsaken Army live off those fighting vultures. Besides,” he added with a smirk, “you are my daughter, after all.”

“I’m the daughter of a whore,” Evanis countered. “We don’t have fathers.”

“You don’t carry my name and no one knows you’re my daughter...”

“Just like my mother has no idea which one of her countless customers fathered me,” she interrupted.

“Careful, Evanis,” the King warned grabbing her ass. “If you are not my daughter, I could feel tempted to use your body to remind me of my youth and the wonderful time I spent with your mother.”

“Sorry, your Majesty,” Evanis hissed through clenched teeth. “You’re right of course. Your hand on my ass revived all my daughterly feelings for you.”

“Oh? You don’t like my hand on your ass?” The King asked, squeezing a cheek before letting go. “I shouldn’t wonder though; I’ve heard you don’t like any man’s hand touching your body. That’s probably the reason you couldn’t follow in your mother’s footsteps - unlike your sister. What a tragedy.”

Evanis turned around and glared at the King. “Did you call for me to discuss family relations and the tragedy of my life or are we having just a bit of small talk before you’ll come to the point?”

Mandorak walked past her, returned to his desk and sat down. He didn’t say anything for a while and just watched her.

“King Aerathon, my western neighbor, is sending one of his daughters to Katerra,” the King told her. “Her name is Rhaseris, Aerathon’s youngest child. Rhaseris will be accompanied by her governess and twenty guards. The women will travel in a carriage, taking the old trading route to the south. I don’t want Rhaseris to reach her destination.”

“Traveling south-east along the Ewu would be much faster,” Evanis mused. “Why the detour?”

“I don’t know,” the King replied, watching Evanis intently. “Aerathon wants his daughter to become a priestess so maybe the gods told her to take that route.”

Evanis shook her head. “A royal princess sent to become a priestess in Katerra?” Evanis voiced her doubts. “Even if the Alorian priests would accept her – and I don’t believe they ever would - Dharos holds the White Citadel. He would rather stake her head above the tower gate than allow a princess to become a priestess in Katerra.”

“The priests will accept her,” the King replied. “They know she is coming and Dharos won’t be an obstacle anymore. He will be dead. At least that’s the plan.”

“Whose plan?” Evanis asked rather loudly. “Aerathon doesn’t have that kind of influence or power – and why would the priests accept his daughter? She isn’t even of Alorian blood!”

“Those are the questions I need to be answered, my dear. But most importantly, I don’t want this plan to succeed and I am willing to pay to make sure it fails. One hundred imperial gold pieces to you if Rhaseris never reaches Katerra,” Mandorak offered.

“You want the girl dead?” Evanis asked, furrowing her brow.

“No,” he replied. “I want her in my hands, healthy and, most importantly, untouched. Otherwise, her life has no value to me.” He answered. “I’ll give you five hundred gold pieces if you can make that happen. However, I would rather have her dead than reaching Katerra – and it goes without saying but no one may know that you work for me. Is that understood?”

Evanis didn’t answer, just nodded. She turned to leave but stopped before she reached the doors.

“Who is your spy in Katerra?” She asked, her hands hesitating on the latch of the door. Her gaze was once again fixed on its polished surface.

“The same one who’ll kill your mother and sister if you betray me,” the king answered.


Two weeks later, Evanis was running through a dense forest and loudly cursing under her breath. The last rays of daylight fell through the roof of the woods and soon she would be stumbling around in utter darkness.

The ambush had gone well. Seyks, Branon, and Vaghis, her best archers, had taken down seven guards including three of their four riders and the driver of the carriage. Evanis and the other four mounted members of her mercenary band charged the remaining soldiers trailing behind the carriage. It had been a short fight trampling and bashing the disordered and panicking guards. They had to hunt down the last remaining rider but that had not taken long. The fight had been easy. Too easy, she had thought as she opened the door to the carriage and watched its only passenger. A middle-aged woman was staring wide-eyed back at her. The princess, Rhaseris, had evidently fled during the fight.

The sound of howling in the distance called forth a new string of curses. They had better find the girl soon; if they didn’t, the wolves would. A short while later she heard a scream, the panicked scream of a young woman. Too late, Evanis thought and cursing some more she ran hard in the direction of the scream. After roughly two hundred yards of dashing through the woods, Evanis reached the source of the scream. To her great relief, what she found wasn’t wolves gnawing at the bones of a princess’ lifeless body. No, the scene she stumbled upon was profoundly more bizarre - a slightly pudgy girl sitting on her ass and staring at a man a few yards in front of her. Carrying only a cloth bundle in his hand, it was a surprisingly naked man. Although Evanis had never seen her before, there was no doubt in her mind that the girl was Rhaseris. However, the far more urgent question seemed to be: who was the naked man?

Evanis drew her dagger out of its sheath and jumped, positioning herself between the two.

“Who are you?” She asked, her dagger pointing at the man.

“I do not know,” he answered calmly. “Before you ask, I do not have a name either, or at least none that I know of.”

Strangely, his composed demeanor had the opposite effect on Evanis. She rushed the man, grabbed his shock of messy black hair with her left hand and pressed the point of her dagger under his chin. Obviously unarmed, he didn’t put up a fight. He didn’t even flinch. Her close contact with him allowed her a moment to size him up. She could see that he was young, no older than twenty. Evanis was of average height but the man was a foot taller. He was a bit thin but his shoulders were wide and cords of sinewy muscles bunched beneath his skin.

Evanis heard the sound of heavy steps coming closer but paid them no mind when they stopped behind her.

“Now we’ll try again,” she hissed. “If I still don’t like your answer to my question, I’ll cut your throat from ear to ear. Who are you?”

A drop of blood ran from the point of the dagger down along its blade while Evanis was waiting for his answer. Just before the drop reached the hilt guard he finally spoke but his words came in an odd sounding singsong.

A rabbit named Jabbit, born with a very bad habit.

Evanis looked into his pale gray eyes trying to decide if he was goading her or if he really was some kind of village idiot.

“You got your answer. His name is Jabbit,” droned a voice from behind before she had time to make a decision. “Don’t kill him; I want him.”

Evanis spun around and glared at the giant man standing behind her. He returned her stare with a sleazy grin.

“We aren’t dividing loot, you big ape. Besides, since when are you allowed to choose before me?” She asked, her green eyes blazing.

“I was just worried you’d kill the boy and then there would be nothing left for me to choose afterward,” the big man replied smiling brightly, showing two rows of crooked, yellow teeth.

“We’ll see, Kuwasi, we’ll see,” Evanis replied still glowering at him. “But first I want to see what treasures Jabbit carries in his bundle.”

The boy didn’t fight her as she took the bundle from him. Evanis unknotted the cloth and spread it out on the ground, revealing its contents for everyone to see. A little blue stone, a white seashell, a copper coin, and a rag doll.

“Don’t you think you’re too old to be playing with dolls?” She asked crouching above his treasures, taking a closer look.

“I do not play with the doll, I hold her while I am sleeping.”

His answer was met by a burst of laughter from Kuwasi and the two who had come with him. Evanis didn’t laugh. They had found a naked boy in the woods, and his answers suggested he was just a harmless half-wit but something about him set her teeth on edge. She looked at the things laid out on the cloth and picked up the coin. It was an imperial copper coin with the profile of Callandrea Rossano’Shenta, the last Alorian Empress, imprinted on it. The empress was smiling but wouldn’t tell her anything. Evanis flipped the coin, watched its swirling rise and fall, then caught it in her palm again.

“Help the princess on her feet and let’s go back before it’s too dark to see,” she said and turned to the newly named boy. “Pack your bundle, Jabbit, you’re coming with us.”

“The coin is mine too,” he said.

In a flash, the dagger was at his throat again.

“I keep the coin. It’s a low price for a valuable lesson. Everything you don’t protect, someone will take away from you.” Evanis paused, looking into his eyes. She was searching for anger or fear but she found something else. “Oh, I see, you have already learned that lesson.”

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