Chapter 6: Manhunt for a Little Sister

Roban left the palace before Leandris woke up again. He packed a few clothes and shouldered his big battle-ax. Seventeen and a half-year old now, he was six feet eight inches tall and weighed almost three-hundred pounds. His strength, speed and endurance were far above normal human abilities. A body designed with a single purpose, to fight.

It was time to find his sister.

Since the day Athea and his mother left, more than five years ago now, it was like a part of him was missing. He missed his mother. He would miss his lovers. This was different. He had learned a lot about his own nature over the years, and especially over the last few months. He didn’t miss his sister like other people. Not like a loved sibling, not as a prospected new lover or even mate. She was a missing part of him, his very being. Maybe one day when he had found her, he would understand that part.

It didn’t matter anyway. Roban had made a promise to his mother. He had not heard anything of them since the night they left for Cordan, so that would be his destination, the isles of Cordan.

He found a ship at the harbor willing to take him to Lorris, a seaport on the mainland, it was only a few days by ship to the Isles of Cordan from there. That was close enough for him. When he had left his home in Falkath, he had taken a pouch filled with valuable gems with him. It only took the very smallest of the gems to pay the captain of the ship.

It was a long and boring journey. Ohh how he missed Chalissa and Meyra, he even began to miss the royal tease. He began to wonder if he was suited to be the leader of a seafaring nation, as after only one week he was hoping for a pirate attack as a diversion from the boring daily routines. Two weeks later and bad weather was a welcome distraction, and after two more months ... they finally reached Lorris.

Lorris was an independent town, ruled by a council. As a seaport Lorris’ main income was trading. Roban had to wait three days for the next ship sailing to Cordan. On his first day in town he found a comfortable inn and went to the harbor for a walk. To his surprise he suddenly found himself standing in front the door of a brothel, he only had asked three times for directions. Inside he was welcomed by a rather homely looking woman of about forty years. She wasn’t at all what he had expected to meet at such a place. Not sure what he should have expected, but at least not a woman who could have been just as well anybody ... that was the thing ... she was so ordinary. At first he was worried he had been misdirected, and this house was just another homely inn. That worry was dashed when the nice lady led him to a room full of scantily-clad girls. Before he could enjoy the view as much as he wanted to, and make a choice, that decision was taken from him. A measuring look at him was all the lady needed.

“Girls, we have a big one here. Where is Bernissa?” She asked the room as a whole and without waiting for an answer, she continued. “You will love Bernissa my boy. She is just what you need, a girl from Dhania. Ever met a Dhania woman before? I bet you haven’t. You are in for a treat. They are famous for being the most accommodating girls in all of Calmyra! And it’s true! Sometimes I doubt the girl has a single bone in her body, all just soft flesh. She literally can drown you with it. She doesn’t come cheap of course, but a young man like you shouldn’t aim for anything less. Ahh, there she is!”

In through a side door walked an extraordinary creature. Walked is the wrong term, the woman floated through the room. Her height was the only average thing about her. Bernissa was a wonderland of female attributes. A long wavy mane of golden blond hair flew over her back and down to her ass. Her figure was stunning. There weren’t any sharp angles, all of her was just soft and smooth, though she wasn’t fat by anyone’s standard. Her tits looked huge, set high on her chest with big cherry red nipples. A waist so tiny Roban could easily encompass it with his hands. Wide swaying hips and sinuous long legs completed the vision. Though the most astonishing were her eyes; almond shaped they were of a cloudy purple color, without a distinct iris. Smiling widely, with a naturally pouty mouth, she did a slow turn when she reached them. She wasn’t really naked, but the gauzy short shift she wore didn’t hide anything. Her glorious full, round butt matched the rest of her body perfectly. Roban was sure that grabbing that ass he would feel like holding the world in his hands. The turn completed, she took Roban’s hand and led him away. He followed without complaining.

The sex with Bernissa was precisely what her body promised it would be. She almost didn’t feel human to him. Her body moved and felt like it was made out of some kind of magic jelly. To penetrate her was like thrusting into warm, pulsing honey. They fucked for hours in every imaginable position, and some Roban hadn’t imagined possible at all. Bernissa floated around him and never got tired. He could squeeze her body to his heart’s content without a word of complaint from her. He fucked her pussy and ass; it wasn’t any difference. She was also the first woman who could take all of him, and it didn’t seem difficult. Now and then her body pulsed in gentle waves from the inside, like concentric waves from a lake when you throw a stone in the water. Pure bliss, it was like a dream of sex. Maybe that was the reason why Roban felt heavenly relaxed after the night with Bernissa, but not as satisfied as he felt with his former lovers. He missed the sweat and the animalistic reactions; the sounds of a woman in discomfort or even pain at times. However, the night was worth its price, although it cost him more than three times as much as his two month long sea passage.

Two days later he boarded a ship to the isles of Cordan. Luckily that passage only took four days.

The Isles of Cordon were an archipelago of three islands, the largest one being Cordan. There was no difference between the isle Cordan and the town Cordan, it was simply Cordan. It was a big town, probably one of the biggest on the eastern hemisphere of Calmyra. More than forty-thousand people lived in Cordan.

It took Roban a few hours before he finally reached Crowen’s property. Here he had expected to find his mother and sister. Although he could not have explained it, but standing in front of the large building he simply knew that his mother and sister were nowhere near.

Apparently Crowen was working at the guild hall that day, so a servant led him to his mother’s friend Tenya. The woman was flustered as soon as she saw him, almost panicked when she recognized who he was, and burst into tears when he told her he was searching for his mother and sister. Tenya was a Norgar woman, and had lived half her life among them, with all their legends and myth. When she had to tell Roban his mother and sister had never arrived on Cordan, she probably expected Khor himself to come down on her home at any moment.

To do her justice, Tenya didn’t panic without a reason. Norgar Chieftains were not known for thoughtful consideration, and Roban didn’t look any different. To be perfectly truthful, he wanted to kill someone the moment he heard the news. It probably showed on his face. So Tenya did what every Norgar woman would have done in that situation. She tore off her clothes and pleading for mercy, threw herself at his feet. The servants might have thought her to be crazy, but they didn’t know it had probably saved her life. Strange as it may seem, watching her naked body lying at his feet calmed Roban somehow. He was still furious, but he left to find the guild hall without leaving a trail of dead bodies in his wake.

Entering the large building he was met by a small man, the secretary. He told Roban that he would have to wait at least two hours because the guild council was currently in conference. Maybe he should have taken a leaf out of Tenya’s book, but then again he wasn’t a woman. Roban’s punch broke the man’s jaw, but his jaw wasn’t enough of a crush zone to prevent his neck from breaking as well. The two guards at the entrance to the meeting room were too stunned to do anything but stare as Roban crashed open the double doors to the room. The conference of the twelve assembled council members immediately decided on an exceptional break when he entered. Roban was too furious to feel talkative and only hissed a single question.

“Where are my mother and sister?”

The deductive capabilities of the guild council were pretty good. It only took them a few minutes to come to the right conclusion. They just were not happy about it. They had paid some serious gold to get them out of Falkath, but the ship with mother and sister must have been lost at sea. Their plan, to buy the goodwill of the future Chieftain, now seemed to have failed. Said future Chieftain appeared to be actually quite displeased at the moment but there wasn’t much they could do about it. Of course the poor dead secretary was never mentioned.

Boiling with rage, Roban had to listen to the council’s considerations. For a brief moment Roban watched the twelve men and ... but that wouldn’t get him any closer to his lost family. As calm as he could, he asked for the route the ship had supposedly taken; about known dangerous areas on that route and unusual weather conditions at the time of their journey. It wasn’t much, but it was all Roban had to start his search. The most important thing did help to calm him slowly. His sister was alive, he had no single doubt about that. He would sail back to Lorris and travel north along the coast; all the way north up to Kurgath if he had to. There was no choice. He would not return to Kurgath without his sister.

He left Cordan and a deeply worried Guild Council early the next day. They provided a ship to take him back to Lorris. In Lorris Roban bought the biggest horse he could find and started his journey to the north. He wasn’t an accomplished rider, but he would learn. Speed wasn’t important at the moment, he could have walked, but it was more comfortable this way.

The independent town of Lorris was at the southern border to Ogus. Ogus was a huge land, with endless plains of prairie in the northeast and large woodlands to the southwest. Much like Kurgath, his homeland, it was populated by many different clans. But unlike Kurgath and the Norgar, Ogus neither had a capital nor were the Ogusi ruled by a central entity. The clans were nomadic in nature, a nation of hunters who followed their prey, mainly big herds of buffaloes. They didn’t have any form of a mutual hierarchy and fought each other as often as they forged loose alliances to raid neighboring countries. Most of the times they did both. A few hundred years ago one clan chief, the Fusan, successfully united almost all the clans of Ogus under his banner. With the death of the Great Fusan Maghar, the clan alliance broke again and so far no other Fusan could repeat this small miracle. They probably would also need divine intervention for that to happen.

There were no real towns, but every clan had at least a summer and a winter location with a semi-permanent sort of housing. At the coastline in the east merchants had founded a few permanent trading posts, but these were small settlements, and populated almost exclusively by merchants trading with the different Ogusi clans.

So Roban was traveling from trading post to trading post along the endless coast of Ogus. At every settlement he asked for anything interesting happening over the last years, but of course especially for shipwrecks and survivors. It was three month after he had left Lorris that he got a first possible lead to his sister. A Kweronian merchant told him that a year ago a few Ogusi hunters came by with a Hakien woman amongst them. Since Hakia was an island nation far east from Ogus the merchant had asked about her. The hunter told him he had bought the woman from a slaver further north at a trading post close to the border of Vernya, but he couldn’t tell him how that merchant came to have Hakien slaves.

It wasn’t much, but if there were slave traders, there had to be a source of slaves somewhere. It really wasn’t much of a trail. Two months later Roban reached the settlement where the Ogusi hunter bought his slave. Sadly there was no slave trader around, but the merchants told Roban that they only could think of two sources for slaves in this area. Actually three, as one possible source was an Ogusi raid across the border, but that would have been slaves from Vernya, not Hakia. Another option easily dismissed was that the slaver had bought the Hakien woman at a slave market in some seaport, and brought her all the way to a small trading post at the coast of Ogus ... very unlikely. The third possibility was just a rumor but way more exciting for Roban. The merchants had heard rumors that some of the Vernya fishing-villages sometimes sold women and girls to traveling buyers. According to those rumors they sold the survivors of shipwrecks. Other rumors said they sold their own offspring, but that again would have been slaves of Vernya origin.

As bad as it sounded, it was Roban’s first real chance to find a trace of his sister. To Roban’s horror the merchant had heard another very upsetting rumor. He told Roban that an especially vicious Ogusi clan leader, Fusan Rhogunata, was famous for his harem of foreign slave girls, and of course was always searching for new additions. His clan was raiding Vernya and Tularkis practically every summer, before they retreated to their winter residence in the south.

Roban had to decide to either follow the path along the coast and hoping to find Athea still in a fishing village in Vernya, or to search for Fusan Rhogunata, to find out if he and his hadn’t caught her. She would be thirteen soon and the vision of his little sister in the hands of a filthy, lecherous old geezer reeking of buffalo dung, tipped the scales. Feeling cold shivers running down his spine, he took a path to the northwest searching for the Thenkis Clan and their Fusan. A little later he wondered at what point in the past he had ceased thinking about his mother.

One morning Roban sat at his campfire and couldn’t stop grinning. Of all the things happening to him so far, this was the most unexpected. He was all alone at his eighteenth birthday! Shouldn’t this have been his great day, the fulfillment of his destiny? He could become Chieftain of the Norgar now, sitting in a great hall on the mystical Throne of Blood. The more he thought about it, the more he realized he didn’t care. He would become Chieftain someday, that was probably another promise made that couldn’t be broken, but he certainly was not in a hurry about it. His only wish was to find his little sister before her great day would come.

It took him two months to reach the area where the Thenkis Clan should have setup their summer camp, but it was late autumn meanwhile and they had apparently left to the south already. That was bad. Follow the clan south, or turn northeast heading for the Vernya coast? The thought of his little sister pawed by some Ogusi bastard decided again. South it would be.

A few weeks later, while watching the endless prairie, Roban pondered that to him Ogus in winter was pretty much the same as Ogus in spring, summer and autumn. Compared to a winter in Kurgath, the winter in Ogus was more like a summer anyway.

A group of Ogusi hunters found him a few days later sitting at his campfire. The average Ogusi was smaller than the typical Norgar. Well, actually every other race was smaller than the Norgar and Roban was big even for a Norgar. Ogusi also had darker skin, and usually darker hair too. Norgar cut their hair simply short, while Ogusi clan hunters wore theirs in braids. Roban hadn’t seen many Ogusi women so far, but they seemed to wear their hair usually in long, practical ponytails.

The hunter group wasn’t of the Thenkis clan, but told him he would find them just one day’s travel to the east. They were a friendly bunch so they shared some stories and parted on cordial terms.

The next day Roban found the Thenkis clan’s main encampment near a river to the east. He estimated it was big enough to hold five or six thousand people. The countless round huts formed roughly concentric circles not fenced or fortified at all. The by far biggest hut was in its center. The huts were made out of wooden bars and Buffalo skin. South of the camp grazed a herd of a few thousand horses.

Typically Roban had no plan what he would do once he found the Thenkis. So he rode straight to the camp and simply approached the first group of people he saw. Equally straight and simple, they told him their Fusan could be found in the big hut in the center. The center hut was about thirty yards in diameter, but otherwise built like the rest. There was a guard at the entrance to the hut wearing a kind of leather armor, a long spear and a short round shield. The guard told Roban that Fusan Rhogunata was just having tea with some of his leaders and to just go inside. So far Roban was quite proud of his successful non-plan and thought about how funny it would be to find his sister sitting in this hut drinking tea.

Entering he walked straight into the main part of the hut. A group of five Ogusi men greeted him. They sat on pillows surrounding a low round table, and a woman knelt at the side of each man. None of the women was an Ogusi, sadly also not one of them his little sister, or merely of Norgar descent. Fusan Rhogunata made the introductions for his side and invited Roban to a cup of tea, while they could talk about whatever it was that he wanted. Roban accepted properly grateful.

“I am searching for my mother and little sister. I thought it possible they would be among your foreign women. My mother would be about forty now, my sister almost thirteen,” Roban told the Fusan after a bit of small talk.

“I don’t think we have any foreign girls that young here. Do they look like you?” The Fusan asked.

“They have similar pale blue eyes, their hair is lighter though, my little sister’s almost white. I haven’t seen them for some years, but unfortunately I’m sure that’s still the end of our resemblances. Unfortunate for me that is, they are both much prettier than I am,” Roban answered smiling.

“I’m unfortunate as well because I have to tell you that there are no fair maiden of the Norgar amongst the women of this clan. I’m an admirer of beauty, so I’d know, believe me my friend.” Rhogunata answered returning his smile.

Roban did not believe Rhogunata was lying or hiding his sister, so this seemed to be a dead end and he sighed in disappointment.

“Did you buy any of your women from traders at the coast?” Roban asked hoping this trip wasn’t a total waste of time and he could gather at least more information on the only trail left now.

“I never bought a slave in my whole life. I take the women of my enemies,” was Fusan Rhogunata’s proud reply.

“You took all your foreign women from raids on Vernya and Tularkis?”

“Some are from other Ogusi clans, but yes. I know what you are wondering. The women, not Ogusi, Vernya or Tularkis, are mostly from fishing villages at the coast of Vernya. Those fishermen trick ships with signals on to the reefs at their coastline. Almost all Vernya fishermen are wreckers as a second profession. They usually only keep female survivors and kill the men. They sell most of the women to merchants, but keep some of them as slaves for themselves. Those we took on our raids,” the Fusan explained.

Now that was a trail Roban should follow.

The Fusan invited Roban to stay the night, and Roban accepted. He was led to a small hut close by and told it was a guest room for visiting Fusan’s. Once inside he was washing his face and chest, when a young girl entered through the opening of his hut. She rushed over to the surprised Roban and took the wet rag he had used out of his hands. A moment later she was rubbing his chest and arms with the rag herself.

“My name is Kelala. The Fusan sent me to you. I am here for the night to offer any assistance you need.”

She was about his age. A bit shorter than average height; with long hair, the color of honey and tied in a ponytail. Her skin was lighter than that of the Ogusi. She wore a tight fitting, short leather dress that clung to her skin. Kelala looked athletically slim with an abundance of youthful tightness. Her hazel eyes were just a little darker than her hair. A small golden ring was pierced through the left wing of her cute snub nose.

“One of the other girls was listening when you told the Fusan about your sister. I am from Sallas, which is a small island east of Ghota. My family was on a sea passage to Cordan when our ship was caught in a storm. Trying to find shelter in a safe haven we followed a light at the coast. Our ship sunk on a reef, but we were lucky, my whole family reached the shore alive. They were waiting for us. They killed my father and little brother right there in front of us. My mother and my two older sisters were sold to a traveling slave trader. I was made the slave of a village leather-worker. He couldn’t find a woman because of his disgusting stench. Two years ago the Thenkis raided the village and the Fusan took me for his harem.” She told the story emotionless calm, but tears were running down her face.

Listening to her Roban had a vision of his six years old sister, when she left to travel at sea. Would she tell him a similar story, once he finally found her? Suddenly he also knew why he had stopped thinking about his mother. He couldn’t be sure of course, but somehow he knew she was dead.

He took the girls chin gently in his hand and turned her head to look her straight in the eyes.

“What do you want? Do you want to leave here? Find your mother and sisters? Revenge?” Roban asked her. It wasn’t so much to help the girl, but he owed it to Athea.

“I am happy here. It isn’t the life I dreamed about when I was a little girl, but it is a good life. The only thing I want you to do is find your little sister. I dreamed every night that someone would come to rescue me.”

Later they lay naked under some soft furs as she gently stroked his chest and belly.

“Sorry, I was sent to you to make you feel good, but I made you sad,” Kelala whispered softly.

Roban grunted. Just his luck, half a year without a woman and now he wasn’t in the mood. Just when he mused about that, she traced the length of his soft cock with the tips of her fingers and nibbled at his earlobe. Suddenly a new thought came to his mind. His sister would want him to be especially nice to this girl!

He was especially nice to her, several times that night. Chalissa and Meyra had taught him well in the art to pleasure a woman with his mouth and hands. They struggled a bit at first. Kelala was of the steadfast opinion it was her duty to pleasure him, not the other way around. They came to a mutual agreement, a position she called ‘Hatanis‘ in her native language. It translated to ‘Girlfriends‘ in the common language. He knew the position, just not by that name. It was usually called sixty-nine in the practical, less flowery, common language almost everyone on Calmyra was taught. He was considering the possible reasons why they would call it ‘Girlfriends‘ where she came from, but lost that thought between her thighs.

Lingering thoughts of his little sister kept Roban in a tender mood all through the night. Kelala didn’t know that, and probably would have laughed in his face if he had told her so. Different personalities lead to different perceptions. With his frame, weight and the size of his cock Roban’s conception of ‘tender’ was simply different than hers. Or maybe deep down where it counts, he was just a rough brute. Maybe it wasn’t even that deep down. Whatever, at least they had fun!

Kelala had passed out the usual way, when a troubling thought came to Roban. What would he do if such a form of hospitality would be expected from him in the future? Could he offer a lover to another man? The simple answer was no! He would need a second harem for that. But could he keep his greedy hands off that second harem? Again, the answer was no! With this worrisome thought he fell asleep a few moments later.

The next morning the Fusan personally bid him a farewell.

“I hope this isn’t the last time we meet Roban. I have great plans for the future of my clan. I can see greatness in your eyes too. I hope one day we will call each other friends, but maybe the future will make us enemies. If that ever happens, I want you to know I respect a great enemy as much as a friend.”

Roban thought about that and had to agree. He wouldn’t like to kill Fusan Rhogunata, but would respect his decision to become his enemy.

It took Roban almost three months to reach the border to Vernya. The increased rain and snowfall accompanying the winter made most rivers difficult to pass. He had to travel many miles in wrong directions only to find a usable passage across a river.

Vernya was very different from Ogus. Gone were the endless planes of prairie. The terrain became rough, full of deep fissures and steep hillsides. His traveling speed slowed even more.

The first fishing village he came through was as he expected it to be. In such a rough territory the population had to be equally rough to survive. The village was dirty and the people he met repellent, if not downright hostile not. He was sitting alone at a table in the small tavern of the village, wondering if he had to search every house of every village to find his sister. Finally he asked the innkeeper if he would know of any slaves to be on sale. The innkeeper looked at him curiously.

“You don’t look like a slave trader.”

“I’m not, I’m just searching for female company, and this town doesn’t have a brothel.” Roban shrugged.

“If that’s all you want, you can just rent one of my wenches,” the man replied.

Roban had noticed the two maids obviously not of Vernya ancestry. One had the dark skin of the people from the far south, like Chalissa, and although he couldn’t tell where the other woman originally was from, she also wasn’t of Vernya descent.

“They are the reason I asked, but I would like someone to accompany me on my journey. Nights out here are cold and long all alone.”

“Yeah, springtime in Vernya is still a bit chilly at night. You know, for the right price, I would sell you one or even both of my wenches.” The man replied and grinned sensing profitable business.

“I wouldn’t want to offend you or the ladies, but I’m sadly very particular about women. I’m searching for someone who reminds me of my home and is young, but I would be willing to pay a hefty sum for that.”

The innkeeper looked at him curiously again and thought for a moment. “Can’t help you there lad, but you can have a room for the night. At least it wouldn’t be that cold.” he finally said shrugging.

Through the night Roban came to the conclusion that talking about hefty sums of gold in taverns can lead to unpleasant side effects. The Innkeeper would have to agree.

The door to his small room opened quietly in the middle of the night. Roban had to concede that the innkeeper was surprisingly light-footed for such a large and fat man. The next morning he pondered how to change his approach and still make sure he would hear about young Norgar slaves, if one would be around. He put the dead Innkeeper in his bed before he left the village without a conclusion for his dilemma.

Roban followed the coast of Vernya from late spring, through summer and deep into autumn. Another birthday had passed without anything to celebrate. He had searched more than fifty villages for signs of his little sister and was becoming dangerously frustrated. He was nineteen now and Athea would become fourteen in the winter. More than once he thought about giving up and returning to Falkath. He could claim his throne and be back next spring with a fleet of Norgar warriors to help with the search. As always, when confronted with a problem, the thought of killing someone or even better, many someone’s, was always the first solution that came to Roban’s mind. Who could blame him? He had a whole nation with more than a thousand years of history behind his line of thinking. Not to mention his own ancestry!

That was his state of mind when he stumbled upon a group of like-minded people. He was traveling through highlands and could see they led to a chain of mountains at the western horizon. The high mountains with their snowcapped peaks in the far distance were a beautifully majestic impression. Despite this beautiful sight, and to his ever increasing frustration, Roban’s destination was the opposite direction, the next damn fishing village. However, a band of warriors came from the direction of the mountains and he could see they were traveling on the road to the next village he wanted to search. Frustrated and bored as he was, he welcomed a change and decided to wait and take a closer look at them.

It was a bunch of about three hundred wild-looking warriors, almost as big on average as a Norgar. The only armor they wore was some reinforced leather bracers, shoulder guards and such, but no main armor or metal protection. Most were armed with big blunt weapon and dressed in woolen shirts and kilts.