Chapter 16: Patrol

Zanyia – The Princedom of Kivoneth, The Strifelands of Zeutch

My tail swished back and forth as I rubbed my cheek into Master’s leather jerkin. I loved the smell of leather, the feel of the smooth yet rough material on my skin. I shivered, squirming on the saddle, the harder leather rubbing on my juicy pussy—it always was juicy—while my little nipples tingled against his back. A purr rumbled from my throat.

Such simple joy filled me as we rode through the spring-green fields around the city of Echur. Farmers worked on their planting, the air smelling so fresh and wonderful, even with the sour tang of the manure fertilizing crops. It was just ... freer. Liberated.

I was a slave, and yet I wasn’t. I could leave Master. I could go where I wanted. I wouldn’t. I wanted to be with him. He saved me. I loved him so much. Which only made me squirm more, savoring the caress of leather on my body.

How did I get so lucky? Why me out of all the other lamia born in subjugation on the other side of the Despeir Mountains? Did Las lust for me more than my sisters? Was the God of Lust staring down at my cute ass right now wanting to fuck me like Master did?

Did he guide this hunky man to me?

My arms tightened about his waist, fingernails scratching at the front of his jerkin. He chatted with his sister, Kora, as they rode. I let the words wash over me, just enjoying this moment, my naughty cunt growing hotter and hotter as the horse’s gait shifted me on the hard saddle.

My clit loved it.

I turned my head, pressing my nose into the jerkin and getting a deep whiff of leather before I rubbed my left cheek against it, adding my own musk to Master’s scent. My purrs grew louder and louder, my hips squirming more.

“Someone’s getting horny,” Mistress said.

“I think she is, sister dear,” laughed Sven, his body’s shaking making my nipples tingle more as they slid across his leather jerkin. “Do you have a hot pussy, my cute lamia?”

“Uh-huh, Master,” I sighed, my juices coating the saddle, making my seat sticky. I loved it. My tails swished faster. “I could crawl around you and fuck your cock.”

I liked doing that. Fucking my Master while we rode, his saddle horn plunging into my asshole and his cock filling my pussy, was so hot. It made me tremble. It made me gasp and moan and cum so hard while everyone watched. I loved it when people—

The faint thud of hooves and jingle of metal reached my ears. The sound of armor. Of warriors.

A cold surge shot through me. My tail went stiff, my triangular ears, thrusting out of my tawny hair, twitched, searching for the source of the sound. They turned behind me, focusing on the sound. Soldiers approached from our rear.

I whipped my head around, hissing at the sight of six armored men trotting up from the rear, closing on us. The leader, clad in full plate armor covered with a surcoat of chequered blue and gray with a red griffin in the center, led five men in chainmail, wearing livery of the same pattern.

“Master,” I hissed in alarm, my fingernails turning into full claws. They scratched at his leather jerkin. “Behind us.”

Sven twisted in the saddle. “Las’s putrid cum,” he snarled as I bristled. “Kivoneth soldiers.”

“Are they hunting us, brother mine?” Kora asked. She flashed her brother a concerned look. “Did someone recognize us in a flyer?”

“Maybe or maybe not.” Master’s voice sounded calm, deep, reassuring. “They could be a patrol hunting slavers.”

“This far from the mountains?” Kora asked. “And do those patrols even do anything?”

I hissed again. What a horrid man this Prince Meinard who ruled the lands we rode through was. He killed Master and Mistress’s family, allowed the evil Zizthithana to send her raiding parties into his lands to take his own people as slaves, and used foul magics to conquer his neighbors. It brought me joy to help oppose him on the mission we rode to.

“Do we fight?” I demanded, bristling. “I have sharp teeth and claws.”

“Which aren’t much good against such armored foes,” Sven said. “No, we stay calm. We’re simple travelers heading to Echur. A radiant of Rithi spreading joy with the mercenary she hired to keep watch. They won’t care about us.”

“Yes, Master,” I said, but I didn’t relax as the horses came closer and closer, their faster pace narrowing the distance between us.

Sven Falk

A tension tightened the limbs of my body, coiling like the springs in a clockmaker’s contraption. I itched to draw a short sword or have a throwing dagger ready. To even surprise them with a bolt fired from my hand crossbow.

But five men ... No need to take risks without need.

I glanced at my sister. She rode looking ahead, a bored expression on her face. Though neither drama or comedy were among the arts she perfected, she still had the skill to perform on any stage. Nothing about her gave away any worry.

Not like Zanyia as she clung to me. The lamia had surprising strength in those slender limbs.

The patrol slowed, their armor jangling louder. The leader came abreast of me, staring at me through the silts in his helm’s visor. I tried not to sneer at Prince Meinard’s symbol on his surcoat, hating the red, rampant griffin of Kivoneth.

“Well met, captain,” I said, giving a friendly nod. “It heartens me to see good Prince Meinard’s soldiers keeping the road safe from banditry.”

The captain did not give an answer, eyes flicking up and down us. I sucked in a deep breath. Did he know our faces? The wanted posters contained bad renderings of our likeness. I could hardly recognize my sister’s face in them, and I’d studied her beauty intently.

“Who are you, travelers, to ride upon the prince’s road?” the captain said after a moment, word ringing hollow from his helmet.

“I am Hans escorting a radiance of Rithi to her performance at the Amphitheater in the noble city of Echur.” I motioned to my sister. “Radiance Heidi has promised to sing a song of such beauty, the entire Princedom shall weep at its lamentation.”

“These are such troubled times,” my sister added, her words tinged with sadness, sorrow painted upon her face. “Though our noble Prince Meinard protects Kivoneth from the Strife, it’s horrors are still remembered and should not be forgotten.”

“And you are just a temple guard?” the captain grunted.

“A humble man contracted with protecting the radiant,” I said, hating the ingratiating act. “But with such doughty warriors as you protecting the road, my presence appears unnecessary.”

“And where did you pick up a lamia slave?”

“Master rescued me!” Zanyia sang before I could speak. “He slew the evil warleader that collared me. He liberated me.”

I swallowed. “I came upon a slaving party and did my part to stop those naga-loving bastards from abducting the good people of Prince Meinard’s lands. Zanyia, out of gratitude, would not be parted from me. Though she is slave no longer.”

“Only by choice,” Zanyia purred.

“Shizhuthian vermin,” the captain snarled, giving an approving nod of his head. “I have longed campaigned to patrol the mountains, to protect our people from the naga’s raids, but banditry exists even in the heart of the princedom.”

“How horrible,” gasped Kora, a quiver running through her body, feigning the delicacy of a sheltered lady. “Here? Within a half a day’s ride of Echur? I thought my guard a mere formality in this area.”

“I’m afraid so, noble priestess.” He frowned. “You do know you are riding around the city on this road.”

My skin tightened.

“Really?” Kora gasped. “Oh, no I thought this led to Echur. Did we make a wrong turn?”

“I told you, priestess,” I said in a gruff voice. “But you insisted this was the way.”

“My apologies,” she said. “Thank you for informing us, Captain.”

“I would be glad to escort you to Echur and...” His words trailed off as one of his armored men, gruff and grizzled, leaned close to whisper to him. The older man had the hard eyes of a veteran sergeant, a man who’d fought in the Strife before Prince Meinard’s construct army materialized.