The Black Rabbit
Chapter 22

Copyright© 2017 by Robberhands

Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 22 - 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  

Anseyla awoke, languorously stretched and smiled. The linen sheets were soft and smooth and the luxurious horsehair mattress springy and comfortable. She was at home.

A little while later, washed and dressed, she entered the kitchen of the Banyan Dream where a many-voiced “good morning Ansa” greeted her. She looked at the numerous people at the large table and noticed even the young women who had come with her from The Sullen Mermaid were smiling at her.

It was a good morning.

After breakfast, she followed her mother into her office, to talk in privacy. They took seats on a plush little settee and looked at each other.

“Jorgesh and Ghostras will load all your baggage onto a carriage and take you to the ship,” her mother said, a sad smile on her face. “Are you really sure you want to go?”

“I have to go,” Anseyla answered. “Since I can remember, I always wanted to be like you. I saw the rich men, nobles, and even kings come to our home and worship you. No one ever treated you like a whore; you are a queen. But I’m not like you, mom, and I realized I never will be. I know I’m beautiful; I see it in the eyes of the men looking at me. But they don’t see a queen; they look at me for who I am, a beautiful whore.”

Inandrey sighed. “This is your life, darling; how can I intercede with you when I didn’t even try to dissuade your sister from her chosen path...”

Anseyla’s laughing interrupted her mother. “Oh yes; you did try, mom!”

Inandrey pouted. “Well, did she really need to become a mercenary? That’s such a dangerous occupation.”

“Eva never was subtle enough for an assassin, so she had to become a mercenary. Mayhem and destruction, that’s who she is,” Anseyla replied, grinning.

“Yes, that’s Eva,” Inandrey returned her daughter’s grin. “But it isn’t who you are. So why do you want to follow her?”

“I’m not following Eva, I’m following Sybil,” Anseyla answered. “You know I love her. When I first met her, she was the saddest, loneliest, little girl I ever saw. Years went by before she would even smile at me. I don’t want her to ever become as lonely again. Sybil will become the Alorian Empress; she needs me, mom.”

“Are you sure you’re following Sybil and not a certain, very strange, young man?” Inandrey asked, intently watching her daughter.

“That’s just a coincidence – I swear!” Anseyla replied, her hazel-eyes sparkling merrily. “I’m following Sybil and she’s following Jabbit.”

Inandrey nodded, a solemn expression on her face. “You know where in the kitchen we keep the pomegranate seeds and the ginger roots. I hope you took enough to provide for you and your sister.”

Anseyla laughed out. “Of course I did. But I won’t give Eva any unless she asks for it!”

“Stop teasing your sister,” her mother admonished. “You’re lucky she loves you so much but one day your luck may run out. Everyone else but you she already would have murdered long ago.”

Properly chided, Anseyla demurely lowered her gaze. “Yes, mommy.”

“Come here you brat!” Inandrey exclaimed and tightly embraced her daughter, tears in her eyes. “Take care of Eva and Sybil, they both need you.”

“I will, mom; I promise.”

This emotional note ended the farewell talk of mother and daughter.


In the Warlord’s office at the moppet’s headquarters, the farewell talk between Jorsha Sammon and Sybelien was no less emotional but far louder.

“ARE YOU INSANE?” Jorsha Sammon, leaning over his makeshift desk, screamed in Sybelien’s face. “First, your ‘new boss’ practically states an ultimatum to the Midnight Council to support your claim to the Alorian throne, then suddenly he decides to leave Katerra and wants to sail to Ibanee. Ibanee! The homeland of Luwani var Dosha, the woman who wants your death! And all you have to say is ‘of course, boss, at which other madness may I be of service for you?’ What has become of you? A love-struck idiot?”

Sybelien stood in front of Jorsha’s desk and cast a weary look at her former Warlord. “I came here yesterday evening in the hope you would take care of a few lost kids we freed from a slaver. You weren’t here, so I stayed the night to say goodbye to you in the morning. I didn’t stay to argue with you.”

“I don’t care!” The Warlord shouted. “You’re here and we fight. I won’t let you leave if you can’t give me a good reason for this madness!”

Even though it looked a bit sad, Sybelien smiled at him in response. “I know you mean well. You want to protect me but you can’t. You think I’ll be safe here in Katerra? No one will be safe anywhere. It will be war, Jorsha.”

“And your new god will be the reason for this war. I wish they would have burned the damn bastard!”

Sybelien’s weariness was gone as well as her smile when she answered. “Then they should have burned me too; I gave my life to him, begging for this war.”

The Warlord dropped back in his chair, shook his head and sighed. “I’m sorry; my jealousy ran away with my mouth. I don’t know if Jabbit deserves your loyalty but I should have known you would be as loyal to him as you once were to me.”

Sybelien straightened her stance. “No, Jorsha, loyalty has nothing to do with it. I told you the truth; I want this war,” she calmly stated.

Jorsha Sammon looked at the woman standing before him. “You’re no longer the Sybil Ghyssa I knew,” he said. “You truly are Sybelien Rossano’Shenta, the heiress of the Alorian throne, and it’s me who owes you loyalty.”

“Don’t start bowing before me!” She huffed. “We are friends - will always be friends. I don’t care about the crown of the Empire. Jabbit wants me to become the Empress for reasons he didn’t tell me and I didn’t ask. Do you think he tells us what goes on in his mind? Not at all! ‘I want to see the ocean’, was all the explanation he gave us for his decision to sail to Ibanee.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have left me,” Jorsha commented. “It sounds like your new boss is even worse than I was.”

“Better or worse doesn’t apply to Jabbit; he isn’t comparable to you, or me, or anyone. You saw what happened in the temple courtyard. I don’t care if he is a god or not. I see what happens around him and probably only caught a glimpse of what he can do. If he isn’t a god, at least he has the power of a god. Eva is much more resilient than I am so I leave the defiance and struggling to her. She seems to enjoy it somehow.”

The Warlord’s expression darkened. “All you’re telling me is you’re blindly following a man with an unknown agenda,” he accused. “Stay in Katerra. The Midnight Council will protect you; you don’t need to sell your life to him. We will support your ascendance to the throne and you’ll have the war you want.”

Sybelien shook her head and sighed. “You don’t understand and you don’t listen. I am not blind, I have one good eye. Goodbye Jorsha, until we meet again.”

Jorsha Sammon watched as she pulled out an amulet and let its pendant dangle in front of his face. It happened too quickly to be sure but he thought he saw the little blue gem in the center changing its color, and then he saw nothing more. He rushed out of his office and called for the moppet guards. None of the children at the old orphanage had seen her leaving the building. They searched but couldn’t find her anywhere.

Sybelien was gone.


Ghostras, Jorgesh, and the loaded carriage were waiting for Anseyla Danjala as she exited the Banyan Dream. She was about to climb into the coach when she caught sight of a young man of obvious Ibanees origin. He wore an expensive looking armor and its cuirass displayed his family insignia.

“I hope you don’t feel too burdened by urgency, my Prince, the Banyan Dream doesn’t open for business until late in the afternoon,” she smilingly informed the Ibanee soldier as he purposefully strode past her on his way to the entrance of the whorehouse.

He paused when he heard her and looked at Anseyla. “I wish I had visited this place before I wed if all the young ladies working here are as beautiful as you,” he replied and dramatically sighed, but smiled afterward. “Now it’s too late for me. I’m not burdened by urgency but by the fetters of a wife and two children. I actually came here to search for my little sister, who isn’t burdened by anything but her impetuous temper.”

“You’re too kind, my Prince,” Anseyla modestly replied, batting her lashes. “The more it saddens me to disappoint you. Your family resemblance is obvious; I know your little sister, Anjatta var Dosha, and I know she isn’t at my mother’s home.”

Agon’s eyes widened. “Your mother’s home?” He asked. “If your mother is Inandrey Danjala, then you’ve to be Evanis Danjala, the famous mercenary! But ... you don’t look anywhere close to what I heard and imagined,” he stumbled, staring at Anseyla.

Anseyla merrily giggled in response. “I’m only the unremarkable little sister of the famous Evanis Danjala.”

Agon groaned. “You’re more than justified to laugh at me,” he apologized. “Please, take my stammering as the proof of what a fool I am and let me assure you, you’re anything but unremarkable. Your beauty evidently turned me into a calf-faced dolt,” he paused, gathering his wits. “So ... you know my little sister, Anjatta, and know she isn’t at the Banyan Dream. Do you maybe also know where she is, if not at the Banyan dream? We’re returning to Ibanee and I need to find her; otherwise, she will be left stranded in Katerra.”

“Yes and no, my Prince,” she answered, smiling. “I know where she is but she will not be stranded in Katerra when you leave without her. Anjatta decided to take a passage on another ship to return to Ibanee.”

Agon shook his head dejectedly. “I hope Evanis Danjala’s little sister is less troublesome for her than my little sister is for me,” he lamented. “But when I look at your gleefully smiling face, I somehow doubt it. You’re probably as much trouble as my own little sister.”

“My name is Anseyla, Prince Agon, and I’m so very disappointed in you,” she chided. “Anjatta talks so highly about her beloved big brother and now I’ve to listen to you badmouthing her. If my own sister wouldn’t be such a terror to the male population, you two would make a fine pair when it comes to troublesome attitudes burdening your little sisters.”

Agon grinned at her. “Heavens, your tongue is as sharp as Anjatta’s. I better count my losses and retreat,” he complimented but then turned serious. “Please, tell me she is safe on that ship and in the company she chose.”

“My sister Evanis would never allow anyone to harm her companions,” Anseyla answered, now smiling gently - until she added, “besides, she is blessed with the very close and personal protection of a god,” and resumed her gleeful grinning.

Agon’s head dropped. “My mother will love to hear that her daughter is that safely protected,” he groaned. “Well, when you see my sister, please let her know I look forward to hear all about the adventures she undoubtedly will experience in such a delightful company.”

“I will, my Prince,” Anseyla promised.

Agon watched her climbing into the carriage and saw the smile on her face as she waved him a goodbye when the carriage drove away. He shook his head and cursing under his breath he returned to his ship, where he would have to explain to his mother why they would leave Katerra without his sister.

 
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