Chapter 4: Rekka explains it all.

Bill turned the makeshift spit over the fire as the crudely butchered hunks of venison sizzled, filling the cave with a mouth-watering aroma. Not much of a chef, and being limited to the single ingredient of meat, he’d decided on simple venison shish kabobs. He readied another short sword, sliding chunks of deer flesh down its length before sprinkling a pinch of salt, courtesy of the Late Lord Flavius.

The deceased man’s saddlebags had been stuffed full of everything a noble crusader on the go might require. While stealing back his multi-tool Bill had found all sorts of useful odds and ends to make his life more comfortable, looting them with mercenary glee. Besides the package of salt, there had been shaving supplies and even an ivory comb. Bill could hardly contain himself from holding Rekka down right then and taming that unruly mess she called a hairstyle.

The straight razor had him a bit worried, but he didn’t dare ask Rekka to assist. He’d lost enough blood from that damnable bolt. The small bar of soap had been cause for celebration on his part, and no matter how Rekka said she enjoyed his scent he was sure she’d change her mind given a few more days of camping. He’d tackle their grooming needs after lunch, likely literally in Rekka’s case. She had not seemed enthusiastic when he’d showed her the comb.

Aside from quality of life contrivances, there had been the Huntstone. He’d examined it a bit and found it was more than just a crystal. There was a cleverly worked silver dial on one end with symbols he couldn’t understand etched onto it. He guessed they were numerals, not being long enough for words unless the written language of this world was a lot odder than his own. Unfortunately, whatever strange magic allowed him to understand the spoken language apparently did not apply to the written. He’d experiment with the stone later, believing it could come in handy.

The horse itself was now wandering around the cave exterior enjoying its new-found freedom. It had taken a lot of patience on Bill and its part to get all the horse accessories off, but they’d persevered. It was lucky Bill had no intention of riding the thing, because he was fairly certain the tangled mess was never going back on without professional help. He’d set the horse free to do as it wished, and so it did, wandering about eating grass and doing whatever horses did in their free time.

The other spoils of victory included three mostly broken spears, several short swords, two savagely smashed crossbows, Flavius’ absurdly large broadsword, and a set of nearly complete mail. The breastplate was useless after Rekka punched so many holes and dents in it, but the chain shirt Flavius had been wearing under it was a nice find. The gauntlets and bracers would come in useful if Bill decided to try catching any more arrows. The rest of the plate didn’t fit him, Flavius clearly having skipped leg day. Finally, a small heavy pouch of coins, bearing the face of some king probably, in gold, silver, and copper denominations. All in all, it was really quite a haul for only his second day as a homicidal vagrant adventurer.

“It ready yet?” Rekka asked, not for the first time, with growing impatience. “I told ya I can eat it raw, jus’ hand it over,” she complained, staring at the sizzling meat with greedy eyes.

She was crouched down on all fours so close to the fire she might as well have been sitting in it, drops of drool dripping from her slavering jaws to sizzle on the stones encircling their little fire. Bill didn’t know how she could stand the heat, and guessed it was another quirk of her hellhound nature.

“You ask that as though I’ve ever cooked venison over an open flame with a damned sword before,” retorted Bill, “And no, you’re not eating raw meat. It’s probably riddled with parasites.” Rekka just shrugged, unblinking eyes not leaving the sizzling meat. She’d begun to squirm and whine quietly, edging a bit closer to the flames.

Bill grumbled, tugging on a gauntlet to use as an oven mitt. Ripping a small more-or-less cooked piece of venison free, he tossed it to the totally-not-begging hellhound. Rekka snapped it out of the air with a snarl, barely chewing before gulping it down. She gasped in delight, placing her paws against her cheeks in awe.

“S’good! I ain’t had salt in ... forever!” she exclaimed, tail wagging. “More! Gimme more, husband! You’re a great cook, the best!” she declared, crawling over and flipping onto her back across Bill’s lap, demanding to be spoiled. Deciding the meat was probably well enough done, Bill reached over her with the gauntlet for the sword with her portion on it, and began to pull off chunks to feed her by hand. He didn’t bother to hide how much he was enjoying himself.

“Yow, don’t snap!” he said, jerking his fingers back from her. He was considering going for the other gauntlet if she kept that up.

“M’sorry, it’s so good,” she said, not sorry at all as she licked her lips and waited for the next morsel. He obediently complied with her demands, feeling a sense of joy to share in her profound happiness.

As he continued to feed Rekka, Bill wondered at what sort of existence she had led before they met. Surviving this wilderness, living alone in a cave, he imagined it would have been heartbreakingly lonely for such a vibrant and gregarious young woman. Despite what may happen to him, stepping through that portal had been worth meeting Rekka and seeing her happy, he decided.

When Bill finished feeding Rekka the last of her meal, and stoically allowing her to lick the grease from his fingers, she settled down contentedly into his lap to allow him to eat his own long denied lunch. Or was it dinner, now? he mused. He wasn’t certain how long they’d spent looting, dealing with the horse, and getting the meal sorted out. Mentally shrugging, he tried a piece of flame grilled venison shish-ka-sword. He had either also been magically gifted with culinary prowess, or hunger really was the best spice. Likely the latter, as you couldn’t really do much with meat, salt, and sword oil. Rekka watched him eat, a contented smile on her lips.

Later, their meal finished, Bill cleaned up by chucking the slightly singed swords into the pile of weaponry they’d pushed against the wall, out of the way. Now resting and enjoying their full bellies, with Rekka draped over his lap, they shifted into a comfortable silence. Bill took the time to explore one of Rekka’s more curious features, tentatively poking a finger through the waving fire trailing from one of her eyes. Surprisingly he found it only slightly warm and it flowed around his finger harmlessly. Rekka giggled and pulled his hand away, kissing his palm affectionately.

“Stop, that tickles,” she said, grinning up at him.

“What is it for, though?” he asked, caressing her cheek lightly, “I mean, it’s pretty, sure ... but why do you have Saint Elmo’s fire in your eyes?”

“Dunno who that is, my eyes’r normal. All hellhounds have it,” she said, nuzzling into his palm. Bill considered teasing her a bit more, but felt it was time to move onto more serious matters.

“Tell me about this war I seemed to have gotten myself mixed up in,” he said. Rekka tensed and curled into him, pressing her face into his shirt, shaking her head.

“No, that stuffs boring. Jus’ scratch my ears,” she demanded, not looking at him. Bill complied with that, only because he enjoyed it nearly as much as she did. He indulged her until she relaxed a bit, then pressed her again.

“Rekka, this is important. Since we’re going to be together I need to know what I’ve gotten myself into. How long has this been going on, and why are there only female mamono?” he asked, gently stroking her ears.

Eventually, still not looking at him she began to speak, “I only know what mama taught me, but sposedly humans and mamono have always been fightin’. A Demon Lord would get all powerful and send us to war with the humans, so we’d fight, kill, die, an’ ‘ventually a human hero would go forth and defeat the Demon Lord. Then things would be calm for a while, until the next Demon Lord showed up. That happened a lot, over’n over. Only, we didn’t always look like this, an’ there was males. Way back then, long time ago, we really were monsters.” Rekka seemed uncomfortable revealing these things and fell silent. Bill continued to stroke her ears and hair until she continued.

“Then, the last Demon Lord came to power. Only, she was a succubus. They ain’t changed at all, really. Anyway, there was another war. We all fought an’ died again. An another stupid hero went off to kill the Demon Lord. Only this time they didn’t fight. She was real pretty, an’ I guess he was real dumb. So they falls in love, an’ the Demon Lord decided she loved all humans now. So, usin’ her fancy Demon Lord magics she cast a big spell. Turned all the mamono female, and, y’know ... sexy. I guess she figured we’d all just fuck until we were one people, an stop the wars,” she said, clearly unimpressed with the whole plan.

“Something tells me that didn’t work out too well,” Bill prompted. Rekka scowled, shaking her head.

“Nuh uh. Her stupid spell didn’t work right, an’ everyone started noticin’ that only girl mamono were bein’ born. Meant they’d have to go find more husbands, even stealin’ them from human wives. Everyone got mad again, an’ they been fightin’ ever since. There ain’t been no peace or rest, an’ the human’s an dwarfs an elves are gettin’ madder an’ more scared,” she said, turning onto her back to look up at him, worry in her eyes. Bill leaned down to kiss her softly, comforting her.

“So, less humans are being born, since most of the men are busy shacked up with beautiful mamono raising more of them. A hell of a cycle,” Bill said with apprehension. “Now the humans are getting desperate. Making new weapons,” he ended gravely, staring at the broken stock leaning against the cave wall.

Bill supposed he couldn’t really blame them, they were in a race towards mutual extinction. If nothing changed, the mamono would simply outbreed the humans and then die off alone. Still, killing off Rekka and her people just wasn’t a solution he was willing to accept. Humanity just wasn’t that great in his opinion. A vague notion of a plan was formulating in his mind, he’d just have to convince Rekka it was a good one.

“Rekka, love, we’re going to need to visit this Fort Carcere. I need to speak with the guy who made that musket, and convince him to stop,” Bill said, waiting to see her reaction.

Rekka stiffened in his lap, eyes widening in surprise. “What for? Stupid thing just ‘sploded in his stupid face,” she said, whining, “We’ll just stay here’n mate! I want to have your puppies...” Rekka levered herself up and plopped herself back into his lap, facing him with her paws on his shoulders. Her eye fires began to flare as she tried to distract him with kisses.

Bill forced himself to pull away after a moment, placing a finger over her lips to shush her complaints. She promptly popped it into her mouth, sucking lewdly. Bill allowed that for longer than he probably should have before pulling it from her with a soft popping sound. Before she could try anything else he used his good arm to hold her back, raising an eyebrow and giving her a stern expression. Rekka glared back at him furiously, causing Bill a momentary pang of alarm.

“This ain’t fair!” Rekka wailed, “You ain’t sposed’ta be stronger than me! If you wasn’t so wonderful I’d be really mad, y’know...” Rekka’s face crumbled and tears welled in her eyes, their fires winking out. Bill’s heart broke at the sight, pulling her into his embrace and stroking her hair until her sobs and yips quieted. Rekka sniffled a bit, clinging to him tightly with her face buried in his chest.

“I don’t want you to get hurt again. I can keep you safe here,” she whispered miserably, turning her head and stroking lightly around his bandages.

“Oh, Rekka. I know, beautiful. I’d be more than happy to just stay here with you always,” Bill said, “but things have changed now. No one will be safe if they keep making those weapons.”

He brought Rekka’s head up to gently wipe the tears from her face. “We have them, and worse, in my world. We call them the great equalizer. No matter how strong, or fierce, or brave you are, they will kill and do it with ease. That one may have been defective but, I promise you, they’ll keep trying until they get it right. Then no mamono will be safe. Every soldier they can field will carry them, and this war will be over,” he said with conviction, hoping to persuade her of the danger and the steps needed to confront it.

Rekka stared into Bill’s eyes, her expression despondent. Finally, she appeared to make a decision, giving him a wan smile and saying, “Well, okay ... since you’re so scared of that stupid stick, I’d better go beat up the asshole makin’ them for ‘ya. You’re comin’ with, I don’t want you out of my sight again, husband.”

Bill chuckled, embracing her and scratching behind an ear. “Thanks, love, you’ve really set my mind at ease,” he said and meant it. If she’d put her foot down and told him they were going to stay here and watch the world burn, he’d probably do just that. The apocalypse just wasn’t worth any more of Rekka’s tears.

Rekka grinned, her usual cheerful demeanor back in full force. “Thank me by losin’ those pants, husband! We ain’t leavin’ today, an we got a lot a time to make up for those jerks wastin’ before,” she said eagerly, having somehow undone his belt without his notice and now tugging at his boots.

Bill chuckled and leaned over to untie his laces before she decided to just rip them apart like his ill-fated boxers but stopped her after she’d pulled them off and started working on his pants.

“Just a second, Rekka. You’ve called me husband a few times now. When did we get married, hmm?” he asked, not unkindly, while holding onto her paws. Rekka suddenly looked uncertain, and even a little hurt.

“But ... We did it. You liked it! Don’t you ... want me?” she asked, looking small and lost, her ears and tail drooping forlornly.

Bill huffed out a breath, saying, “God, liking it wasn’t even a question. Woman, you damn near broke me last night.” Pulling Rekka forward, he gazed adoringly into her strange, beautiful fiery eyes. “Of course I want you, Rekka, never question that,” he said lovingly and Rekka seemed to melt, a wide grin spreading across her face. “Marriage is just a little different where I come from. Normally we prefer to take it slow, and it usually involves an official ceremony with all our friends and family there to celebrate the union,” he explained.

Rekka’s smile faltered. “I ain’t got a family anymore. No friends, neither. All I have is you,” she said wistfully, squeezing his hands in her furry paws, looking at him, the love plain in her eyes.

Bill briefly thought to press her on her missing family, but the sudden lump in his throat made him realize he was through seeing her unhappy. Clearing his throat, he said, “Well, fuck it, you’re it for me, too. Literally all I have in this world. Hell with the damn ceremony. If anyone asks, I begged you to make an honest man of me. We’re eloping, wife.”

The witchfire in Rekka’s eyes blossomed with her happiness, but it was her radiant smile that lit up the room. She leapt into his arms with a growl, smothering him in licks and kisses, excited whimpers escaping from her throat.

“Oh, husband! Yes! I love you, love you, love you!” she cried, “We’ll have so many puppies! All of them! An you’ll love them, too. We will! Even if one is small, you’ll love her just as much, cause she’s just as tough. Yeah! An’ they’ll be so strong. Like you! An’ no one will ever hurt them. Yes! My husband. Mine!” Rekka was beside herself, squeezing him and kissing with delirious intensity.

Bill listened happily to Rekka gush, gamely trying to keep up with her lips, holding her tightly as his own heart swelled. He’d never given much thought to marriage, much less children. He found himself looking towards the future with excitement, a rarity for him. Bill prayed Rekka never wised up and realized she could do so much better, but he’d do his damnedest to keep her happy until she did. He hoped the kids took after their mother, the world needed more of her effortless cheer and beauty. It certainly didn’t need any more cynical pricks.

Bill’s mind was made up, he felt it was time to prove to Rekka how he felt about her. Standing, he scooped her up with both arms as she yelped and giggled. Ignoring the pain in his arm, he carried her over to the furs and lay her gently down. Standing over her, he lifted his shirt off, tossing it carelessly behind him. Seeing this Rekka gasped and began to shimmy out of her own scant clothing, whimpering with anticipation. Bill dropped his jeans, peeled off his socks and kicked them all over to his boots.

He was taking the lead this time, maybe that way he could wear her out, instead. He meant to see Rekka moaning and begging him this time. Rekka spread her legs and gazed up at him, biting her lip, eyes half lidded with lust as she breathed in his scent with a shuddering breath. Nudging her tail out of the way, Bill lowered himself between Rekka’s legs. She moaned shamelessly as he palmed her hot mound, finding it wet and wanting. Wasting no time with foreplay, he lined himself up, immediately slamming into her with one thrust. Christ, Bill thought, this is going to be tough. How can she be so tight, so hot?

Rekka barked out a delighted gasp, hooking her legs around his waist and locking them together possessively. Leaning over her he kissed her deeply, tongue pushing heedlessly past her fangs to grapple with her own. Moments later he pulled away, grinning to match her own toothy smile. Then he pulled back slowly, her molten folds clinging to him as tightly as her legs. Finally, he began to thrust.

“Oh, fuck. My husband! Yes, harder!” Rekka cried, positively thrilled for him to take charge in this way. Maybe this is what she had wanted all along, Bill thought, grinning to himself as he sped up his pace. He watched her face intently, trying to ignore his own pleasure, gauging her reactions. She flung her paws around his neck, holding on while she panted up at him with each thrust, eyes wide and mouth slack with desire.

Falling to his elbows, he grabbed her hair in his right hand, twisting to bare her neck to him as he clamped down with his teeth, hard enough to really feel it but not mar her perfect skin. Rekka drew in a hissing breath, locking still for a split second. “Fuck, I love you,” she growled, relaxing as she breathed out, hanging loosely from him as he continued to pound her relentlessly into the furs. Conversely to her slackened limbs, her folds squeezed him impossibly tighter.

Growling with the intensity of their passion himself, Bill sensed she was close. Clenching his left hand into a fist, trying to distract himself from the pleasure with the pain of his wound. It worked, barely. Rekka began to whimper, screwing her eyes closed as her hips ground against his thrusts, losing herself in her pleasure. Bill decided to move in for the kill, still steadily thrusting into her, he loosed his teeth from her neck and brought his lips to her ear. Whispering fervently, Bill said, “Come for me, Rekka. My wife.”

Howling, Rekka came, unaware as her claws dug slightly into the back of Bill’s neck. He was thankful for the distraction, focusing on the pain to stave off his own eruption. Rekka shuddered and jerked her hips, thrashing her head from side to side. Bill carried her through, steadily slowing his thrusts as she began to relax, sighing into the furs. Her eyes remained shut as she enjoyed the pleasurable tremors running through her body. Smiling down at her possessively, Bill applauded himself for managing to hold back from joining her in release.

Not waiting for her to recover, making the most of his unnatural stamina, Bill levered himself up and began to thrust with renewed intensity. Rekka opened her eyes, gasping in surprise. He only grinned down at her, smugly enjoying his moment of victory. This is going to work, he thought, I can do this!

Elsewhere, five suffering men trudged through a steadily darkening twilit forest. They were having a much less enjoyable time, exhausted misery lay upon them like a cloak.

“Steady on, lads. We’ll get through this yet,” Sergeant Tullius said, voice pitched low to avoid carrying too far but filled with confidence to inspire his men. A confidence he did not feel, his thoughts heavy, knowing even if they made it back to the fort he would be punished severely for the death of Lord Flavius, and the loss of the weapon. He hoped to shield his men from sharing in his punishment, but the severity of the loss would likely mean his superiors would be spreading the blame as far as they could. They’d need someone to blame, distancing themselves from repercussions further up the chain.