The World of Erasthay
The Knight and the Acolyte Book Five: The Vault’s Treasure
Chapter Nine: Lust’s Daughter
© Copyright 2016
Story Codes: Female/Teen female, Female/Female, Fantasy, Magic, Violence, Voyeurism, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Bondage Domination/submission
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Click here for Chapter 8.
Thrak – The Free City of Raratha
Night cloaked the beach beneath the Saltspray Palace. The waves crashing into the shore had a faint tinge of glowing blue, a phosphorescent churned by the foam and only revealed in darkness. I studied it, pondering what could cause the glow.
A property of sea water? An organism in the waves? A chemical polluting the ocean?
Thinking about the cause was better than waiting and brooding on the robbery. Better than staring up the dark cliff to the palace waiting for the appearance of Xera and Minx, their theft complete and without incident. The Doge would not suspect Angela and in two days, she would leave the city with Sophia, Faoril, and Chaun, rendezvousing with the pirate ship we had contracted.
The ship anchored on the horizon, a black shape occulting the rising stars. The Golden Hunger captained by Thyrna, a predatory human female with lush lips and hungry eyes. She made my blood boil when we met.
She would make the trip to the Isle of Birds and beyond…interesting.
“Tide’s shifting,” one of the brawny pirates said. He stood by the longboat pulled onto the sand. “Your friends needs hurry.”
I faced the man. “We wait.”
The rumble of my voice made him flinch. The pirates Thyrna recruited were all large men, powerfully built, muscular humans who dwarfed the average of their race. But I was an orc. I stood taller, my shoulders wider, my muscles stronger. They knew I could break them. They feared me.
Everyone feared me when they met me. Even Faoril.
I turned my head from the glowing froth to stare at the palace. If things had gone wrong, there was nothing I could do but wait.
“Be safe, Faoril,” I whispered.
Chaun – The Free City of Raratha
Pain burned in my belly, kept at bay by my singing. The melody flowed from my lips as I lay on the marble floor of the feast hall. I stared up at the vaulted ceiling. A painting crossed it, ships sailing the dark sea battling sea serpents while mermaids swam around it, strange flowers in their vibrant hair.
I had to keep singing, to convince my body not to die. I only had a gaping hole in my belly left by Incessae, the erinyes bitch. I wasn’t the target of her vengeance, and yet I was the first person she attacked.
She feared my song. Music held power. Even one not trained at the Bardic College could move an audience to laughter, to joy, to sorrow, and to despair. Songs could uplift or dismay. Incessae feared the lusts my song would inspire in her body.
I never thought my music would make me a target over a knight with Angela’s martial prowess.
Maybe joining the quest was a mistake? Maybe I should have said no to Lady Delilah? I could have stayed safe skulking in taverns and low-born common rooms, singing for copper pennies, a warm bowel of stew, and a dry place to sleep.
But greed had seized me. I wanted back all I lost when I was caught abed with my sweet Princess Adelaide by her jealous husband. And our brief stay in the Doge’s palace reinforced to me where I belonged. My talents were meant to entertain the powerful, to earn me the rewards of golds, fine clothing, perfumes, and the presence of noble ladies for me to seduce and fuck beneath their husbands’ noses. Often wearing their husbands’ appearances.
But was dying worth it?
Since I agreed to Lady Delilah’s plan to aide Angela in her quest, barguests had attacked me. I wandered through dwarven mines haunted by a mad wraith who tried to steal my soul. Even an avalanche was dropped on us. Boulders could have buried me alive.
And now a furious demigoddess had stabbed me through the stomach. And Angela still had other dangerous to face in her quest, culminating at the dragon.
Was life at court and the fame of being a bard worth all this pain and suffering?
But if I did earn a spot in a court, if Lady Delilah upheld her end of the bargain, I would have my fame and prestige back. I would be the centerpiece of my lord’s entertainment. I would perform for all his noble visitors, impressing them with my skill, wooing them. And maybe I would see her again.
Princess Adelaide appeared in my memory, lush and beautiful, dressed only in her blonde hair like she had the night I was caught in her bed wearing her husband’s appearance. I had loved her so much that night, like I had every other night.
And she had sung her love for me.
Could I have her back? If I was a court bard again, could I see her, play for her, and love her again? Maybe I could steal her from that foul husband of hers. Rescue her like she always she dreamed of when we lay in bed, whispering our desires.
It was a foolish dream. Impossible. Her husband would never let her go. And he would never visit a court where I played. He would keep his wife away from me.
But I could have the rest. I could have it all back if I had the courage to risk the dangers. And there was the prophecy to consider. I was chosen. I did not understand how Lady Delilah knew I was chosen. Maybe I should tell Angela about who hired me.
She should know.
Later. If I don’t die. I had to keep singing and Angela had to keep fighting.
Angela’s stolen partisan, liberated from the inept guards of the Doge, crashed into my fiery spear. Sparks flew as Angela snarled. Her naked breasts heaved and her flaming hair spilled about her shoulders.
Exhilaration washed through me as our weapons clashed together again. She was a magnificent creature. Skilled, fast, unafraid. She fought without armor, the seed of her centaur lover dripping out of her cunt, unfazed by her nudity. She was focused on killing me.
Well, I did threaten her lover.
Tonight, Mother’s vengeance would be meted out. The High King’s foul sword would never be reforged. His kingdom would never again mar the world. Mother was too soft-hearted. She never should have allowed the High King’s daughter Lily to live and breed, even if her and her descendants only produced daughters incapable of ruling any kingdom.
Angela worked the partisan with the same skill she fought with her sword. She stabbed and then used the weapon’s crossguard to parry my spear, keeping me from finding her flesh. She slapped my spear down, then thrust it forward, forcing me to leap back.
The Doge’s guards rushed around us, their bronze armor gleaming in the light of my spear, flaring bright like stoked flames when my weapon struck Angela’s. Awe crossed the men’s faces as they watched us. And lust. I was also naked. I never wore clothing. I wasn’t ashamed of the lush body I possessed.
But their eyes fixed on me, lusting after me, stirred my weakness. The hot itch in my cunt grew. The first beads of excitement dewed my cunt. I let out a snarl of frustration as my nipples hardened. I lunged harder at Angela.
“Slata curse you!” I roared at Angela and at my perverted father for burdening me with his lusts. The soldier’s eyes vexed me. “Don’t just watch. Secure the acolyte.”
“No,” Angela shouted as a pair of the soldiers, under orders from their captain, broke away and rushed at the naked acolyte. “Don’t touch her.”
Angela’s anger appeared in her attacks. Her partisan thrust harder. She rushed at me, her naked feet smacking on the tiles. Her passion was…inspiring. Her breasts heaved. They were almost hypnotic the way they bounced and—
Focus. I was not weak. I would not let father’s lusts poison me.
I screamed, focusing on my rage—Mother’s vengeance—and parried her next thrust. Then I lunged, moving my weapon in a circle to dodge around the partisan’s crossguard and enter into her reach, my weapon thrusting for her belly.
Angela needed my help.
I cast my eyes around for my discarded clothing. My robes lay in a pile nearby. My legs trembled from the orgasms the sphinx had gifted me. I forced down the exhausting bliss. I could not afford to lie in a pleasure coma.
I had to help Angela. I wasn’t weak any longer.
Weapons rang and sparks cracked as I rushed to my robes. I fell to my knees and dug through the piled linen, searching for my pouch hanging from my robe’s belt. The pouch clattered. My hands fumbled to unbury it from the cloth.
“Come on,” I hissed in frustration as somehow, my pouch had ended up in the robe’s sleeve and lay tangled. “Slata’s hairy cunt!”
I pulled out my pouch in triumph. I opened it up. Glass clinked together. I pulled out a healing potion for Chaun, who seemed to be singing to keep himself from bleeding to death, and my enchanted dagger.
It glowed pink, warning me of danger.
I grasped the handle in triumph and stood up, anger burning in my face. That erinyes bitch would have to—
“Pater’s disgusting cock,” I groaned at the sight of two of the Doge’s soldiers rushing straight for me, each clutching a long polearm of some type in hand. Beyond them, the bald Doge screamed orders at his other guards as they gathered around Angela, watching her duel the erinyes.
“Drop the dagger,” the first guard said. He shouldered his polearm and reached out to grab me while the second guard circled to my right.
“Stop!” I shouted as his male hand reached for my naked flesh. “I am an priestess of Saphique. Any man who touches me will be cursed by my Goddess.”
The first guard froze before he could grab me. The second guard cursed beneath his breath. “She’s a priestess, all right. Look at the robe.”
“Of Saphique,” I reiterated, my heart hammering. I had to do something. What?
“Help the erinyes!” the Doge shouted at his men. “Don’t just stand there like pretty statues.”
“Well, we don’t have to touch her to herd her,” the first guard said, lowering his weapon at me. The point was sharp.
I sucked in a deep breath as it hovered a foot from my flesh. The other guard lowered his blade. I stood there, trembling, thinking. Would they stab me with their blades? Those points were so sharp. They would skewer me.
What could I do besides dropping my dagger? But that wouldn’t help Angela in her duel. There had to be something else I could do. Something that would help. Be useful. But would could it be? I backed away from the guards, their weapons’ points tracked me.
“Don’t be stupid, priestess,” the second soldier said. “I don’t want your Goddess to curse me, but you have to surrender.”
The first guard suddenly growled. His weapon blurred as it stabbed past me. I shrieked and jumped before I realized he didn’t pierce me with the point. Instead, his weapon shot past me. Then he yanked it back, the crossguard catching the back of my knee and jerking my leg out from beneath me.
I fell onto my back. Which hurt. A lot.
I coughed, clutching my knife and healing bottle in desperate grip. I didn’t let the pain keep me from moving. I had fallen from my horse before. That hurt worse. I rolled over and gained my feet, darting around the second guard as he thrust with his weapon. I leaped over it, stopping him from tripping me.
“Vedr’s queef!” he snarled.
I almost giggled at the vulgarity of his curse. I would have if my heart wasn’t hammering in fear. My feet slapped on the tiled floor as I ran as hard as I could. I had no idea where I would flee to. The guards’ armor clinked as they charged behind me. There had to be something I could do to lose their pursuit so I could help Angela.
I cast my gaze around the room. The nobility pressed on the edges, watching the fight with a mix of fear and excitement. A new entertainment for them to enjoy. None of them would be helpful. The Doge continued to shout his orders and…
An idea popped into my head. It was pretty dumb, but I didn’t have anything better to try. I changed the direction I ran.
I backpedaled as Incessae’s spear lunged at my stomach. My feet slapped on the ground as I moved away, giving me time to slam my partisan into her haft and deflect her point from finding my stomach. Then I lunged in.
Her wings flapped, and she lifted into the air and flew back, landing in her stance, her spear leveled. Her pale cheeks burned crimson, and fat, pink nipples were erected. Her silver nipple rings glinted as her breasts heaved.
She was aroused.
My anger slowed. Incessae was a skilled fighter. I would be hard pressed to defeat her even with the longer reach of the partisan. But I couldn’t kill an erinyes. They were immortal, demigoddesses born of Slata and Las.
Lust was the key to defeating them. Her nipples were hard, and in the reflected light of her spear’s fire, juices glinted on her thighs. Her eyes smoldered, glowing brighter and brighter with every moment as they stared at me.
At my heaving tits.
“Do you like my tits?” I asked as I lunged in.
“What?” she hissed, smacking my partisan down.
“My tits? Do you like them?” I pressed my arms together, squeezing my tits into two thrusting mounds. “Aren’t they beautiful? I think I have a great pair of tits. Like yours. We’re about the same size.”
“Shut up!” she hissed as she lunged. “I’m here to kill you, not ogle your tits.”
I parried her attack, our weapons sparking together. “You sure? You keep staring at my tits. Do you think I should pierce my nipples? I like your silver rings. Sexy.”
Xera and I dived apart as the faerie guarding the Doge’s Great Vault unleashed her magic. My skin tingled as a rush of pink energy washed between us and crashed into the floor. The magic rolled across the stone like foamy water, crackling with pink and purple sparks then fading into glittering dust. I gained my feet and cast a gaze over my shoulder at the faerie.
We were expecting her. The Doge had her imprisoned and forced to guard his treasures. And that meant there were iron runes inscribed about the room, forming a magic circle that would keep her imprisoned.
Faeries hated iron.
Her wings, a purple blur behind her, hummed as she hovered in the middle of the Vault. She was the size of a short human female, with pale skin covered in glittering specks of gold. Purple hair floated about the beautiful creature and her lush breasts heaved.
“You should not be here!” she shouted. “Leave, now!”
“I don’t want to,” I laughed. I had to be the distraction while Xera, with her keen eyes, sought out the runes. According to Faoril, they had to be inside the Vault. “I’m here to see if the stories about you are true.”
“What stories?” the faerie demanded, her hands going to her hips. “Huh?”
“That you are the ugliest faerie in the world. I mean, I thought it was true, but I didn’t realize how ugly you were.”
“Ugly?” A shrill shriek echoed through the vault. “You think I’m ugly, halfling?”
“Oh, yes. I’ve seen ogre backsides that were prettier than you.”
“I am Princess Siona,” the faerie hissed. “I am the most beautiful daughter of Queen Sidhe, the most radiant Faerie Queen. How dare you call me ugly. Call me pretty”
“You’re as pretty as a boil on a barguest’s cock,” I laughed.
She shrieked so loud my ears rang. It echoed through the room. Her purple hair stood on ends as the room crackled with her fury. I dodged through the priceless treasures the Doge had collected, weaving between statues carved of rare stones or cast from precious metals. I dived over chest stuffed with gems and gold coins. I dodged around plinths holding expensive jewelry.
I snatched a pendant with a diamond the size of my fist.
Behind me, the magic crashed into the works of art, knocking over the plinths, cracking the wood of the chest, and rocking the statues on their bases. They wobbled and teetered, threatening to fall over as I laughed, sparks dancing through the air.
“If you are the most beautiful daughter of Queen Sidhe,” I called, “then your mother must be so ugly!”
“She is a radiant being, not a filthy little halfling with such an ugly haircut.”
“It’s practical,” I shrugged. “Your mother is so ugly she sours fresh milk.”
“My mother only sours milk to punish wicked humans! She is not ugly!” The faerie stamped her foot in mid air. “Not ugly at all. You take that back! We’re both beautiful!”
“You’re so ugly, the Doge locked you in his basement to spare his citizens the horror of your visages!”
“You horrible rat!”
Magic lashed out, crashing in a statue before me. I laughed, my feet sliding on the floor as I changed directions. “Your aim is also terrible. Is your ugliness interfering in—”
Marble hands seized my arms. The statue she hit with magic had animated. It lifted me into the air. My legs kicked as I struggled to escape, but the fingers held me tight. The faerie princess fluttered before me, her face twisted with rage.
“You take it all back right now! I am the most beautiful creature you have ever seen. Say it! Stop lying!”
I glanced at Xera as she searched the room. She needed to hurry.
“Say it!” Sharp fingernails pressed against my cheek. Each was painted a deep purple. “I am radiant. Admit it!”
“Xera,” I said, trembling, Siona’s boiling eyes boring into my own.
“Keep distracting her.”
Journeyman Mage Faoril
The stump held me fast. I had been tricked. I thought I had the upper hand against Master Mage Yolun, but he was craftier. He trapped me in an ouroboros circle. I couldn’t cast any spells. My magic would rebound.
But I could manipulate spells I had already cast.
“You are calmer than I would have expected after this fight,” Yolun said, eyeing me. “There is no way to escape an ouroboros circle. Not with you constrained.”
“I know,” I lied. I tugged and manipulated the knot of sensations in my mind that was Relaria, dominated by the life magic I learned from Fireeyes’s disgusting book. “Is panicking going to accomplish anything?”
“No, no,” he said, “but considering the punishment for attacking a master mage is death, I would expect fear.”
A flutter of fear hit my heart. I would be declared a warlock if Yolun brought a complaint to the Magery Council. “Well, you attacked me first. You lured me here and then demanded my surrender.”
“On the Doge’s order,” he answered. “I have a contract to serve him.”
“And I have a contract with Knight-Errant Angela. I could not let you interfere in our quest.”
“Quest?” he asked. “To kill rampaging imps?”
That was the lie we told the court. “No. To kill the Dragon Dominari.”
He threw back his head and laughed. “No one has been able to harm the dragon for centuries. And why attack her? She hasn’t ventured out of her desolation in our lifetime, or that of our grandfathers’.”
“Doesn’t mean she won’t rampage again. Her desolation was once prosperous farmland. She burned every croft and farm, sent the peasants fleeing, then roasted the combined armies of the Princes of Zeutch when they came to fight her. What if she strikes out again. No dragon that has ever lived is as dangerous as her.”
“And you think you’ll succeed?” He laughed, confident.
Good. Relaria came closer and closer. Keep him distracted. “With the High King’s sword reforged. Angela is his descendant.”
Yolun’s mouth clamped shut. “A woman? Wielding his sword? The symbol of his authority?”
“The Lesbius Oracle prophesied it. We shall defeat Dominari and lift her shadow from the eastern lands.”
“So that is what has Aurelius in an uproar.” The mage shook his head. “The pommel in his Vault.”
I nodded my head. “So you can understand why your interference is a terrible thing. Imagine the good that we will accomplish.”
“The High King’s sword was broken for a reason. No man should ever rule so much territory.”
“Well, Angela is not a man. She’s a woman. She can’t rule. So what do you, or the nation’s, have to fear?”
“Your motivations may be good, but defying the Magery Council and committing theft from one of the most powerful men in the world is rank folly. I shall deliver you to Esh-Esh and let the Council judge your actions today.”
My heart clenched. I couldn’t let that happen. I had to escape. And no matter what, unless I killed him, he would see me branded a warlock. I would be like Fireeyes. Hunted. I would never gain the black robes and join the rank of Master. Bitterness burned at the back of my throat.
Relaria entered the garden. The lamia moved with stealth, her lithe form darting through the smoldering plants and across the cratered grounds. The garden had been beautiful before our battle commenced.
“There is nothing I can say to change your mind?” I asked. “I am only doing what is right.”
“So am I. And what I am doing is also lawful.”
Relaria moved closer. She wiggled beneath a flowering bush, her tail swishing behind her. I kept a firm control over her body, guiding her behind the stump holding me. My skin tightened as she came closer and closer to freeing me.
I would have to strike fast, overwhelm him the moment Relaria freed me.
The lamia crept closer. She wiggled forward on her belly. She reached the edge of the magic circle imprisoning me. Her clawed finger swiped through the dirt and broke the plane, breaking the force rebounding my magic.
My magic surged out of the circle. It did not rebound into me and cause me pain. I seized rocks and hurtled them at Master Yolun, hoping to strike him in the head and render him unconscious. They hissed through the air.
Though shocked, he reacted swiftly.
His magic crashed into the stones. The rocks became dust that sprayed over him in a cloud. He coughed even as I melted the stump holding me into a puddle of liquid wood. I darted to the right and seized the dust around him, trying to harden it into a shell about his body.
My ears popped as a huge gale burst from him, whipping the dust away. My red robes billowed about me. Our magic lunged at each other, waring for control over the elements around us. I formed ice lances out of the air which he melted into steam. He summoned stabbing shards of rock to burst around my feet which I transformed into soft mud before touching me.
We wared with wind, water, earth, and fire. We manipulated the elements. The ground shook and the air boomed. We assaulted each other with our skill. It was a battle to see who ran out of their reserves of sexual fluids first.
But I had the advantage.
Relaria crept around behind Yolun as I battled. The catgirl was fierce. She knew how to claw and subdue a man. I implanted the idea in her head when she was in position while simultaneously hardening the ground beneath my feet back into stone instead of the quicksand threatening to swallow me.
With a hiss, Relaria lunged.
She landed on the mage’s back. Her claws tore at his shoulder. He cried out in pain. Energy burst between him and Relaria, an explosion of Fire. The lamia flew away from him, yowling in pain as I sent a thick piece of wood crashing into Yolun’s head while he was distracted.
The mage reeled, spun, and collapsed on the ground, his scalp split open.
The bundle of sensations from Relaria, representing my control over her, popped in my mind like a soap bubble. I staggered, my eyes casting to the lamia. She lay broken before a tree, her flesh blackened from Yolun’s fire, her spine bent in an unnatural horror.
I staggered. I killed her. I brought her here, forced her to attack a master mage, and killed her.
“No, no, no,” I gasped, stumbling across the ground to the lamia. I couldn’t have killed her.
I fell to my knees before her. I rolled the lamia onto her back. Her beautiful face was hidden by blackened skin. Her clothing smoldered. I shook her, but she didn’t move. I sent life magic into her, probing her flesh.
No life remained.
“No!” My body shook. Tears fell from my eyes. What did I do? I used her. She was a puppet. She had no say in attacking Yolun, in risking her life.
Bile rose in the back of my throat. I leaned over and vomited as my body shook.
“Admitted it. You want to play with my tits,” Angela purred as her partisan lunged at me.
“Shut up!” I snarled, my eyes drawn to her heaving breasts.
They were so beautiful. My hands clenched on my weapon, wishing they were holding her soft, plump mounds. Her flesh would squeeze through my fingers. And those nipples were perfect to suck on and…
I roared in frustration and lunged again, thrusting hard. They were brutal strokes. I had to end this. Juices trickled down my thighs. Every time Angela dodged, those wonderful breasts heaved. It would be such a shame to mar…
Stop being weak!
“Or maybe it’s my cunt you want to lick.” A gorgeous smile crossed Angela’s lips. “Huh? Do you want to fall to your knees and lick my sweet pussy? I bet you do. You’re so wet.”
“You’re such a slut!”
“Fucking whore!” I thrust hard.
“But you’re the one dripping. Your juices are flooding out of your cunt. Admit it. You want to taste the centaur’s jizz leaking out my sweet snatch.”
“I’ll kill you! I’ll shove my spear through your guts.”
Angela laughed, parried, and said, “But what you really want to do is thrust your fingers into my cunt. Mmm, I’m so wet and juicy. Imagine your fingers sinking into my depths, teasing me, playing with me. You’ll love making me cum.”
My teeth ground together. My nipples ached. I wanted to tug on my nipple piercings. I wanted to press my thighs together and rub my clit. It burned. I had to be touched. But if I gave in, I would lose my fighting stance.
I had to kill her.
My spear lunged over and over at her, rapid jabs. I had to sap her stamina. She was human. I was a demigoddess. She couldn’t outlast me. But she danced back, deflecting my vicious attacks with ease, a smirk on her lush lips.
“Yes, let those emotions out. You want me. I can feel it burning in your eyes. What are you waiting for, erinyes? Fall to your knees and worship my cunt.”
My screech echoed through the room. I hated her. I hated her more than mother hated High King Peter. I wanted to throw her to the ground and ram my spear into her cunt. I would fuck her so hard with it. She would gasp and moan as she burned.
Her smoking juices would perfume the air. Such a heady bouquet. And then I would…
I shook my head and parried her sweeping partisan at the last second.
“Were you daydreaming?” Angela laughed. “Thinking of my sweet snatch? I understand. It’s the best cunt you’ll ever devour.”
“You were. And everyone knows it. You want to lick my pussy. You want to devour my cunt. You want to make me cum.”
I shuddered. Visions of falling to my knees sent a wave of heat through my body. The part of me born from my disgusting father yearned for a different battle, the press of hot, wet flesh, gasping bodies, writhing bliss.
I shook my head, driving back the images from my—
Angela’s partisan smacked my spear from my hand. It fell to the floor, and its flames snuffed out as it rolled towards the boots of the watching soldiers. Their eyes all burned with lust. They stared at us with hungry eyes.
They wanted to watch me feast on Angela’s cunt.
“Stop looking at me!” I screamed as Angela’s partisan swung.
What was wrong with me? The fight. I had to—
Angela’s polearm swept my feet out from beneath me. I crashed backward and landed with a hard thud. And then she was over me. Her foot slammed down between my breasts, pressing me to the ground. Cum dripped from her cunt, splattering my belly.
“Time to eat my juicy cunt,” Angela grinned.
I stared at her messy cunt, licking my lips. I wanted to devour it. I wanted to feast on the centaur’s cum dripping out of her snatch. But Mother needed her justice.
Why was I so weak?
“Don’t stand there, capture her,” the Doge screamed.
I blinked, trying to drive away my lust. Angela hadn’t won yet.
Knight Errant Angela
My pussy burned. Saying those words, watching her body react, made me so wet. The bitch needed to be put in her place. I wanted to slam my cunt on her mouth, grind on her, and make her lick me clean of the centaur’s cum until I exploded.
Then I would be free of the erinyes and Slata’s vengeance.
But I had forgotten about the guards watching me. At the Doge’s words, they sprang towards me, stabbing with their partisans. I twisted away from Incessae, raising my weapon and deflecting one guard’s attack into another. Then I dodge a third.
They came at me from every direction. A forest of sharp points hungered to find my flesh. I spun my weapon, blocking, defecting, knocking them back. It was a delaying action. There were too many attacks coming from too many directions for me to win.
I lost. I defeated Incessae and it didn’t matter. I would fight. I would force them to kill me, but my quest ended here. I wouldn’t die at the maw of the dragon, but at the spears of the Doge of Raratha, my name attainted, forever remembered as a black knight.
“Say I am beautiful,” Sophia the Faerie Princess shrieked.
I glanced at Minx. She struggled in the grasp of a statue. The faerie’s hands fondled her breasts as she hovered before the halfling. Minx squirmed, but the statue held both her forearms. She couldn’t move her hands and seize a tool from her pouch.
But she held the faerie’s attention. I kept my eyes moving, searching for the iron runes. They were hidden with cunning. My eyes swept across the stone, peering for any false covering, joints that were too wide, too small, a break in the Dwarven craftsmanship. I ran my fingers across the wall as I circled the vault, searching for minute imperfections.
“How can you say these magnificent breast are ugly? Huh? I am perfect. Admit it!”
“Perfect for kraken’s vomit washed up on the shore,” chortled Minx.
She was fearless. I smiled and shook my head. I had to focus on finding the iron runes. They had to be somewhere in the wall. The faerie’s magic couldn’t past the circle made by the runes. As she threw about her magic, the power washed across the floor and rippled into the wall.
“Taste my pussy juices. These are the juices of a beautiful princess, not a…a…disgusting filth.”
Minx gagged as the faerie princess rammed pussy-covered fingers into Minx’s mouth. The halfling shuddered and struggled in the animated statue’s grasp, her short legs kicking. They were slim, flashing with her metallic-bronze skin, her short britches molded to her flesh, so tight the impression of her vulva could be seen, a plump crease…
“My pussy taste amazing, admit it.”
“I’ve had better,” Minx shrugged.
My smile grew as the faerie shrieked.
I focused on the floor. The signs of her magic washed across the tiles like water, leaving a glittery film behind, like the waves churned in a brackish pond retreating from the shore and demarcating how high up the beach the water had flowed. The glitter came almost to the wall, but it didn’t touch it. My heart beat with excitement. I fell to my hands and knees, searching the boundary. The stones were hard beneath my bare knees, but I ignored the discomfort.
“You are a foul-mouthed rat,” the princess hissed. “You’re ugly. Look at those small tits.”
“Oh, they’re perfect for my body size,” Minx laughed. “I know I’m sexy. And you know it. Stop lying.”
“I’m lying? You’re the evil cunt that won’t acknowledge my regal beauty.”
“I don’t know,” Minx side. “Turn around. Let me get a good look at you.”
The faerie turned, shaking her perfect rump, almost thrusting it into Minx’s face. “See. Perfect. Admit I have a perfect ass.”
The faerie princess shrieked. Her wings hummed. She shoved her ass into Minx’s face. I tried not to chortle as Minx gasped and sputtered. The faerie let out a coo. “Lick my ass. You love it. It’s a perfect ass. Everyone wants to lick it.”
My sensitive finger brushed across the tile and froze. It passed over the slightest rise. I couldn’t even see the dimple in the tile. I stroked the rise, tracing it. Was it an artifact of its manufacture, or the rune. It had a shape, purpose, angular lines.
I drew my wooden dagger and scratched at the tile. Paint flacked off, a thick lacquer glaze. Set into the tile was an iron rune, dull gray. It was Dwarven craftsmanship at its finest. I doubt any human could have ever detected the subtle difference.
But I did.
I worked the dagger’s blade between iron and tile. I pried at it while the faerie princess shrieked demands at Minx. The iron rune wiggled. Stone creaked. I leveraged my blade and the rune popped out of the tile.
My ears twitched as energy washed over me. It flowed out of the room, escaping from the circle of iron. The faerie princess gasped and spun around, staring at me. Her eyes widened. Tears filled them as she fluttered to me.
“Y-you freed me.”
“I did, your highness,” I said, rising. “I—”
The faerie princess through herself at me. Her slim body hugged me tight as her wet tears soaked my neck. I held her as she sobbed. Minx gasped, falling free of the statue, a huge grin on her face, then she began gathering the treasure in the room.
“You saved me. Thank you.” The princess kissed me. “Thank you.” Each one was punctuated by a kiss. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”
She broke away from me. “I am Princess Sophia, daughter of Queen Sidhe. I am eternally in your debt, noble elf.” Her magic sparkled above her outstretched palm. A four-leaf clover appeared, speckled with glittering flakes of gold. She tucked it behind my ear. “You have earned a boon. Call upon me, and if it is in my power, you have earned your wish.”
Princess Sonia turned. “And you…you will apologize to me.”
“You’re cute,” Minx shrugged. “But not the most beautiful creature I’ve seen.”
Siona shrieked, then flew out of the vault and found her freedom.
I shook my head at Minx, smiling. She raced to the plinth and snagged the pommel. Greed burned in her sapphire eyes. She bounced the pommel on the palm of her hand, the other holding a sack already bulging with treasure.
Minx slipped the pommel into the sack then walked to me and smacked my ass. “Come on, we have to loot this place. That pirate captain’s gonna want her booty.”
“Sure,” I smiled, my ass warm. She was a joyful creature to be around.
Journeyman Mage Faoril
I wiped at my mouth and looked away from Relaria. In my mind, I replayed the moment of her death over and over. My will pressing on my control over her, guiding her, forcing her to be my weapon. My distraction. I stood, wiping away my tears.
I was empty inside. I had heaved up my dinner and more. I smoothed my robes then brushed the book in my pocket. His book. I pulled out the notebook. I had argued that all knowledge, no matter how it was gained, was useful.
How useful was mind-control? How useful was forcing a creature to die?
The book burst into flames. It didn’t burn my palm. I controlled the heat. Ashes flaked away in the breeze. The fire burned hot, consuming the book in heartbeats. The gray spilled out my hand, falling to the ground, leaving my palm stained.
I stumbled through the garden to the door back into the palace. I was lured away for a reason. Angela, Sophia, and Chaun were in danger. Maybe Xera and Minx, too. Everything had gone wrong.
Relaria’s yowls followed me.
“Stop!” the Doge cried out. “Don’t kill her. Put your weapons down.”
I blocked a thrust. The guards froze, frowned. They looked confused as they backed away from me. The Doge’s commands were frantic. I turned. Sophia had her naked body pressed behind the Doge, her dagger at his throat. She spoke into his ear.
“Now, now, hurry. Can’t you see. She’ll kill me. Surrender.”
Sophia always found new ways to surprise me.
I whirled on the erinyes. Incessae rose, shaking her head. I lunged at her, knocking her to the ground with the partisan. She rolled onto her back, her tits heaving. “Don’t you forget, you have to worship my pussy.”
“You fucking cunt,” Incessae gasped as I seized her red hair and hauled her up. “You’re a whore.”
“That’s you,” I told her as I pulled her face to my pussy. “You’re the whore, remember? You’re the one who couldn’t control her lusts. That’s why you lost.”
“Damn my father,” she moaned. “And damn your cunt.”
Then she feasted. I threw the partisan to the ground as her hungry tongue licked through my folds, gathering the centaur’s cum that hadn’t poured out of my pussy. My hips undulated, grinding on her, savoring my victory.
The final erinyes had succumbed. I was free of Slata’s vengeance.
I gulped down Sophia’s healing potion. I had to stop singing. The pain instantly roared back, trying to kill me. But the warmth of the potion flooded through me, attacking the agony, driving it back, restoring my health, if not my clothing.
My tunic was torn and ruined, and my hose and codpiece were soaked by my blood.
The Doge hung in the air, suspended by Faoril. The mage stared at him with glassy eyes, her arms hugging herself. Her robes were stained with dirt and ash. More smudged her face and clung to her hair. She had her own fight.
And it left her haunted.
Sophia dressed while Angela hurried out of the hall. I stood. The Doge’s soldiers watched us with weary eyes, their weapons on the floor. The Doge himself blubbered as he slowly spun in the air, completely at our mercy.
“Well, it’s safe to we’ve been exposed as miscreants,” I said, striding to Sophia.
“Safe to say,” she nodded. “Mother will not be pleased with me. I imagine High Virgin Vivian will expel me from the order when we return to Shesax.” Sophia sighed. “Maybe the dragon will kill us.”
I laughed and nodded. “Well, trust me, I’ve had one ruler sign my death warrant. We’ll manage.”
“You sound confident.”
My smile faded. Prince Gruber of Kivnar hardly had the power of the Doge of Raratha. Though the Doge ruled only a city, the wealth of nations flowed through his port. He would want vengeance and his property restored.
There was no turning back for me. I was united with Angela and her quest. I would risk the dangers and not for the reward. We would be outlaws, Lady Delilah’s promise impossible to fulfill. But Angela needed me. I had bled with her. And now I would be a fugitive with her. Angela’s order would strip her from their ranks, Faoril’s Magery Council would call her a warlock for her crimes. Only Xera’s and Thrak’s people would not care what we did.
And Minx’s. But she was already a thief.
Angela returned in her armor, our saddlebags slung over her shoulders. Xera and Minx followed after, a huge grin on the halfling thief’s mischievous face. She chortled at the sight of the Doge spinning in the air then produced the pommel.
“We did it,” she laughed. “Broke into your Vault, your Dogeness.”
“Your Excellency,” corrected Sophia.
“We have to go,” Angela said, her face stern. You never would have known she had a screaming orgasm on the erinyes’s face only a few minutes ago. The erinyes herself had fled after she made Angela cum, one hand shoved between her thighs, masturbating herself.
“Let’s get our horses and be gone,” Sophia said.
Angela shook her head. “We can’t get them down the cliff and to the boat with ease.”
Sophia’s face fell. She deeply cared for her horse. “I-I understand.”
Angela closed her eyes, blinking against tears. Midnight, her charger, was a part of what made her a knight. She shifted the saddlebags slung over her shoulders. Sophia reached out and pulled off her own saddlebag, packed with her personal items, from Angela’s shoulder. I took mine, making sure my enchanted chest was still in the saddlebags—it held all my clothing.
“Faoril,” Angela said.
“Hmm?” the mage asked, looking at Angela with a blank face.
“We’re leaving. Bring the Doge.”
“Bring me where?” he spluttered, face white.
My bare feet touched the sand at the bottom of the cliff. Faoril’s fire still blazed above, holding the Doge prisoner and keeping him out of mischief. The climb down was…strange. The rocks kept moving, forming steps for us to march down. Those steps vanished behind us, shoved back into the cliff by Faoril’s magic. The mage was at the rear.
“I take it things did not go to plan?” Thrak asked as we trooped across the strand.
“It was their fault,” I said, thumbing over my shoulder. “Xera and I were perfect.” I shook my sack loaded with loot. “This should make Thyrna happy.”
Thrak nodded his head. “Sophia, what happened?”
“Incessae,” the acolyte hissed. “She’s been dealt with. But the Doge’s knows we were there to rob him.”
“Did you kill him?”
Sophia gave the orc a strange look then marched past him. Angela followed, the knight in her armor, looking powerful and majestic, her kite shield strapped to her arm, her breastplate and pauldrons gleaming in the rising moon as she climbed into the longboat.
I hopped in and Xera set beside me. I hadn’t been on a ship since I left Baraconia with my sister years ago. I couldn’t believe I was heading back. But the next piece of the sword was on the Island of Birds. Unable to resist, I pulled out the pommel, staring at it.
“May I have that?” Angela asked, her eyes steely. It was a polite request masking her demand.
“Sure.” It was useless to me until Faoril restored it, then I would steal the sword and become so rich.
“Faoril,” Thrak said. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” the mage muttered then ducked around the orc and his spread-wide arms. She climbed into the boat and sank down, staring at her soot-stained hands.
Thrak and Chaun were the last to climb in. The orc stared at Faoril, his swarthy face puzzled. The sailors pushed us out into the swell. The brawny men climbed in and rowed us out into the Nimborgoth and to the waiting pirate ship. The sailors grunted with each stroke, their oars creaking against wood, waves slapping against the hull. It was the only sound. Everyone was silent. We had broken into the Great Vault, stolen the Doge’s treasure, and escaped.
And none of them were excited. They all were mopey. I rolled my eyes.
“Angela,” Chaun said, cutting through the silence.
“I have to confess that I was not entirely truthful when we met in Lor-Khev.”
“I knew it,” Sophia said. “You were waiting for us.”
Chaun nodded. “A Lady Delilah hired me to—”
“Lady Delilah?” snarled Angela. Her hand went to her neck, grasping a garnet pendant she wore. “She hired you. Are you certain?”
Chaun nodded. “Yes, fiery hair, a curvy figure. Mature and powerful with a sensual presence about her.”
“What is she up to?” Angela demanded, her hand clenching on her necklace.
“Fiery hair?” I asked. Like Adel, my elf partner. I was the inside plant in the party to steal the High King’s sword once it was reforged. It was Adel’s plan.
“Yes,” Angela said, her voice thick with longing and anger. “What does she want? Why did she give me this pendant, and why did Fireeyes have its twin?”
“Fireeyes?” I asked, completely confused.
Only the grunts of sailors, creak of oars, and slap of waves answered me.
The fires spluttered out around me.
I sighed in relief. The unmanly tears I had cried still stained my cheeks. I wiped at them as I turned to stare at the Nimborgoth, the rising moon splashing silver across its waves. Angela was on the sea. She had escaped down to the beach. A boat must be out there, lurking in the dark.
“Maregatus!” I snarled.
My seneschal strode up in his toga, the cloth draping over his bony body. “Yes, your excellency.”
“I want ships sailing to every port in the Nimborgoth spreading my bounty for Angela and her companions. A 1000 gold dupondius for her companions, 5000 for her. Dead or alive, I do not care. Another 5000 for the pommel.”
“They will leave on the morning tide, your Excellency.”
“Then I want a courier sent to King Edward. I want to know why a knight from his kingdom would pillage my storeroom and threaten my person. I want answers from the Knights Deute and recompense for the action of their member.”
“I will send the courier on a pegasus. Anything else?”
“Only her head.” She made me cry. My entire court witnessed me blubber like a child. “I want her head mounted before my palace gates! And I want all her companions to join her. That Las-damned halfling, Sophia, the bard, all of them!”
The END of Book Five
Click here for Book Six, Prologue.
I have released a part 29 of the revamped Devil’s Pact on Smashwords. Read this post for more information if you’re interested!by