Chapter 6

Gary knew what he liked in a woman.

Himself, naturally, to use the joke older than the oldest race. As a soldier, he wasn't above the obvious crude joke when it seemed the right thing to say. Beyond that, though, he liked a particular type of female companion. He liked them buxom, with some padding. Willing, naturally. He was not into rape, even when, in the line of duty, it did seem the right thing to do (luckily, his service to the Duke had not seen that sort of ... opportunity). Smart, a bit sassy. He wanted the total package, you might say.

Amy had been that. They had married before he had even found service with a Captain, with no thought to the future beyond that night's bed. He had never strayed. She had not always believed that, soldiers being what they are, but it was true. None of the women frequenting the barracks ever matched what he had back at home.

Wendy was giving his memory of Amy a run for its money.

It was the way she moved under him, body giving itself totally to pleasure. She was not greedy, like some of the bar maide who had shared his bed. Nor was she desperately trying to please, as widows were. Wendy sought pleasure in his pleasure, riding each wave and returning it, the back and forth sending Gary to heights he had forgotten existed. Maybe it was her youth, her inexperience.

Maybe it was just her.

The two lay on a blanket away from the camp, the stars out above them. Gary could see his youngest daughter through the trees, outlined against the campfire alongside Jack. Samantha's idea about the tents was gaining his approval each night. At the next town ... he'd dip into the slowly shrinking pouch of gold at the next town. Some luxuries were in fact necessities.

Wendy's warm body snuggled against him. He marveled at her dark skin. Gary had never seen someone so brown. He almost lost her in the night, the red hair on her head and between her legs seeming to float. Then his hands confirmed the luscious flesh between those two points. Arm going around her, he caressed her back, bringing a purr from her lips.

It was easy to forget what she was.

"Wendy."

She stirred. Pushing back from him a bit, her eyes opened. They, too, floated before him, small stars descended from above.

"Don't want to go back yet." One of her hands began caressing him. Gary chuckled, pulling her body closer. It was self preservation as much as affection, her body heat staving off the growing chill.

"Nor me, my lady. First ... we must talk."

She stiffened a bit. Something in his voice must have set off her defenses.

"About ... what?"

Gary considered how to frame this. He was not, despite what his young children might believe, blind to certain things. However, magic was not an area he knew of, nor cared to. He was treading in dangerous waters.

"I know ... you are helping Polly." Wendy blinked, body pulling away just a touch. Gary caressed her back. "I'm not blind. I know ... I know that bastard did something to her. With her, beyond what we saw. Something that may need the skill of someone like you to fix. And, I'm glad. She seems, well, better. Happier. You ... you ARE fixing her, Wendy?"

Those eyes regarded him for awhile. He tried to read something into them. For the first time, he couldn't. They were alien eyes. The eyes of a witch.

"I am helping her, Gary. Helping her the only way she can be helped. Some things ... can not be undone."

"But she will be well, right? My daughter is free of that bastard?"

The eyes came closer, Wendy's soft lips touching his in the night.

"She is free of him."

Wendy, frock once again on, walked into the firelight. He had taken her one more time, surprising them both. Well, him, it seemed, more than her. Wendy was young enough not to understand the limits of men.

Nor her own.

"I don't see why you bothered making clothing." Wendy stopped, eyes going to the source of the sound. Sam didn't even bother turning. She sat next to Jack, hips touching the boy's, both stirring the coals with sticks. "I mean, you barely wear them."

Wendy's eyes went first to the back of Jack's head, then Sam's. Was this ... somewhat friendly teasing? It was the kind of thing she would say to her sister, after all. To get angry, when not called for, wouldn't help. After a moment, she decided to just ignore it. Wendy once again began walking towards the wagon.

"You left some blood on the knife."

Now Sam was looking at Wendy when the witch stopped and turned. The black haired tomboy's face was unreadable. Their eyes met. Whatever the girl was trying to tell Wendy, she turned away before Wendy could comprehend. Then she remembered.

Polly.

The spell.

One hand slipped over her belly. Her first spell using Polly. Her first spell using human blood. Preventing, so she hoped, pregnancy for the next month. And Sam ... was giving warning? Of what? That she knew? Or that Wendy had been sloppy, so next time she could cover her tracks better?

There were too many secrets here. They would have to come out.

Soon.

Gary brought the wagon to a stop at the top of the rise. Sam looked at him questioningly, but said nothing. The day had been long, but it was still a bit early to begin looking for a campsite. The horses had been rested not an hour before. Handing the reins to Sam, he stood, stepping up on his seat to get an extra foot. Sam immediately took the reins with one hand and grabbed wildly for the brake. He chuckled. If the horses wanted to move, the wagon was going to move, brakes or no brakes.

"That doesn't look safe, Dad." Polly's voice was worried.

"I know, but ... ah." Seeing what he wanted, Gary stepped down and sat, taking the reins back from his relieved daughter. He turned to look at his passengers. "There's a small town to the south, the road forking about a mile ahead. I think I've been there before, as a youth. If so, we'll see a path before the split, which leads to a clearing near a stream. We'll camp there for a few days. There should be some game upstream a bit, plus I'll set up some snares."

"You're hunting?"

Sam's voice was hopeful. Grinning at his male daughter, Gary reached out a hand to ruffle her hair.

"Yes, for a day or two. We need food, and maybe if I get lucky I'll get enough to do some trading in town." Seeing the question about to pass through her lips, He gave her head another squeeze. "I'm going alone."

"That's dangerous!"

He turned at Wendy's protest. She was in the second of her new outfits, a light green dress that did nothing to diminish those breasts. She was leaning forward, eyes clearly upset. Polly had a hand on her knee, as if to restrain her. He smiled at the girl.

"It would be more dangerous, for you, if I took Sam with me. Jack is good in a fight, but nowhere near where Sam is. I'll be OK, trust me. I won't go more than a few hours upstream." He turned to Sam. "I'll take the horn, OK? You'll be able to hear it."

"You'll never be able to bring more than one deer back by yourself." Sam was practically pouting. He couldn't help but laugh.

"Confident in my abilities, are you?" She nodded, not seeing the humor in it. He shook his head. "I'll blow one blast every hour if I need you all to come help bring meat home. More than that, you can come rescue me. How's that?"

Gary saw Sam's eyes shift to Jack. The boy's hand went to her arm, tracing letters. Once again, seeing him touch his daughter brought mixed feelings to the fore. Hadn't that been the start of all this, when Polly...

No. It had been his fault, for not paying attention. He liked Jack. Trusted Jack. As the teen's fingers did their thing on her arm, Gary saw Sam's body slowly deflate in resignation. Gary moved his hand to her shoulder.

"It'll be OK. You're needed to protect your sister." He cocked his head, as if considering something. "Start teaching Jack some swordplay. Give him the basics." Her eyes lit up at that, even as Gary suddenly had a pang of doubt. He hoped steel swords were all the two teens sparred with.

Wendy watched as Gary unfurled the wagon cover. He had to bend over as the canvas passed over his head, ducking down below the height of the curved supports, letting go and letting the remaining fabric fall once it had reached the other side. Jack and Sam moved to stretch and tie down the covering. Wendy, though, stayed where she was. She saw Gary rummage through sacks and boxes, pulling out various items to fill his pack. She held his bow, quiver at her feet.

It was one thing to sleep with a man, her Mistress and Mentor Quinnia had instructed her. One thing to enjoy the pleasure that was her due. It was another ... to have feelings for a male. To care. The same was true with females, to a certain extent. Both genders existed to provide Witches with power, and sex partners, and were to be considered as disposable. Only then would one survive in the world of magic.

"Never," the witch Quinnia had told her, "allow a male to be your equal. Equals cancel each other out. If you are not dominant, you are a slave. If you are to be a slave, better for me to kill you now, than to have wasted my time."

Quinnia had been on the verge of killing Wendy. Was what she was feeling, now, one of the signs Mistress Quinnia had seen? Had what had caused her to be caught in her Mistress's chamber that day had been that she was, in fact, a failure? That if she continued on this path, she would be lost?