The Rogue’s Harem Book One, Chapter Sixteen: Patrol

 

The World of Erasthay

The Rogue’s Harem Book One: Rogue’s Sultry Women

Chapter Chapter Sixteen: Patrol

by mypenname3000

© Copyright 2018


Story Codes: Fantasy, Magic, Violence

For a list of all The Rogue’s Harem, other World of Erasthay stories, maps, and glossaryclick here

Comments are very welcome. I would like all criticism, positive and negative, so long as it’s
constructive, and feedback is very appreciated.



Click here for Chapter 15.



Zanyia – The Princedom of Kivoneth, The Strifelands of Zeutch

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

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

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

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

Did he guide this hunky man to me?

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

My clit loved it.

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

“Someone’s getting horny,” Mistress said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sven Falk

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Only by choice,” Zanyia purred.

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

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

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

My skin tightened.

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

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

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

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

He recognized us.

I acted.

The throwing dagger flicked out from my wrist as the captain snapped his head around to glare at me. The knife passed through his visor’s slit and embedded into his eye. He stiffened while reaching for his sword then tottered forward from the saddle, crashing into the sergeant.

“Captain!” the man grunted, gripping his reins as his horse whinnied in surprise. He fought to stay upright, pushing the officer’s corpse off of him.

My short sword hissed out of its scabbard as I heeled Night. My stallion neighed. Zanyia hissed in surprise, squeezing hard to my chest. I charged at the sergeant. A curse spat from his lips as he fumbled to draw his weapon.

I plunged the blade of my weapon into the man’s throat. Blood spurted. He gurgled as behind him the other four soldiers cried out their alarm, blades rasping against leather scabbards, flashing silver as they reined their horses.

And charged.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kora Falk

My right hand moved the moment my brother drew his throwing dagger. I shoved my fingers through my robes and found my pussy. I caressed my naked flesh, pressed against my saddle, and gathered my juices as the other three soldiers reacted.

The nearest charged at my brother’s back, longsword held before him like a lance, prepared to run Sven through. Anger surged through me.

“Rithi, paint an image of profound beauty for his appreciation,” I chanted.

A tingle raced through my pussy. My fingers buzzed with the defensive magic of my Goddess. I pulled my fingers clear and flicked at the attacker. Sparkling dew soared through the air, shining with the goddess’s passion. The droplets flew far farther than should be possible, striking the lead soldier in the face.

The anger and rage twisting his expression slackened into awe. Blue eyes unfocused as the young man witnessed perfection shining before him. He charged past my brother, sword falling from uncaring fingers. For hours or more, he’d be lost to the beauty Rithi painted in his thoughts.

A crossbow twanged.

The next soldier clutched at his chest, the bolt punching through chainmail. My brother threw his hand crossbow to the ground as he wheeled Night around to face the last two soldiers. He swept his short sword before him, deflecting the first attack.

My heart tightened as his slender blade whipped around, crashing into the final guard’s blade, Zanyia yowling as she clutched to him from behind. I gripped my own horse’s reins, Rainbow neighing in fright.

Then she clamped teeth down on the bit and ran from the scent of blood filling the air. I gasped, seizing the reins in both hands, screaming in shock. I pulled hard, trying to slow her as she carried me away from my brother fighting for his life.

“Sven!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Zanyia

Mistress’s horse bolted as Master swung his sword back and forth. The coppery tang of spilled life filled the air, making my blood boil. I threw myself off the back of Night, landing in a crouch on the hard-packed road. I leaped to the side, a hoof slamming down at my head.

Master held Night’s reins in one hand, swinging his short sword in the other. The two guards circled him, their warhorses screaming and snapping, biting at Night as the soldiers swung their longer swords. Master’s blade blurred, crashing into attack, sparks flying.

They pressed him hard. His blade too short. He could only defend.

I licked my lips, studying the fight. I had to help. My claws dug into the hard-packed road. I had sharp fangs, but I couldn’t tear through chainmail. I had to do something else. To give Master a chance to fight back.

I grinned, eyes focused on the belly of the horse.

I darted beneath its steel-shod hooves slamming down on the ground, the musky smell of its coat filling my nose. I threw myself upward, twisting my body. I clutched at its belly, thighs wrapped about its withers, my claws raking its belly.

The horse screamed in pain as my fangs tore into its belly, ripping through its thick hide. Salty blood filled my mouth. My claws dug in deep as the horse reared. The rider grunted in surprise then crashed to the ground in a metallic clatter.

I dropped from the horse, rolling to the side as it galloped into a field, maddened by pain. I rolled onto my hands and feet, blood staining my lips, running hot down my neck. My tail swished a I focused on the soldier struggling to rise, his leg twisted.

I leaped.

“Gods-cursed bitch!” he cursed as I landed on his hard armor, the stench of iron, rust, and oil filling my nose. My teeth snapped down on his throat.

I bit.

He gurgled.

His blood hot across my mouth as I ripped out his throat. I spat out his flesh on his face, my ears twitching. I turned around, crouching on my prey, and watched Master. His sword swung fast, driving back the last remaining soldier.

I licked my lips, loving the hot, salty flavor.

“For Prince Meinard and the Red Griffin!” snarled the soldier as he rammed his sword at my Master.

For a moment, my heart clutched. My body froze.

Then Master’s sword whipped in a circle, knocking the blade to the side so it thrust past him. Then his sword sliced into the soldier’s face. A sickening chunk, sword striking bone, rebounded through the air. Blood spurted, my tongue flicking my lips again. The short sword bit deep. The guard’s body spasmed. His weapon fell from loose fingers. Then he slumped over his saddle, Master wrenching blade clear. The warhorse bucked, throwing the dead guard off onto the road with a clatter.

Master’s head whipped around, finding me. “You okay?”

“It’s all his blood,” I grinned. “And his horse’s.” I brought my bloody fingers to my mouth, licking them clean, bathing myself with a tongue.

Master gave me a strange look, like he found it odd I would clean myself after getting soaked in blood.

By the time my fingers were sparkling clean, Mistress rode her black mare to us. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Mistress,” I said, my fingers scooping up the blood staining my neck that was out of reach of my tongue.

“I’m fine, too, sister dear.” Sven crouched by the sergeant. He fished out a piece of parchment from the man’s pouch. “They have a better likeness of us. I fear Prince Meinard’s hired someone with talent to sketch us.”

“Our infamy grows,” Kora said, shaking her head. “The garrison in Echur will be missing them.”

“Then we better ride hard,” Sven said. “And stay off the main roads. I’m afraid there’ll be no more sleeping in inns the rest of the way.”

“I can handle sleeping rough. It’s you I fear for, brother mine.” A smile played on Mistress’s lips. “No pliant barmaids for you to regale with your tales before plundering the charms of their bodies.”

“A sacrifice I shall endure,” Master said with a mock sigh. “The life of an outlaw.”

“You can enjoy the charms of my body,” I said. “And the princess. She’ll be so eager. She won’t care if it’s in a tent or not.”

“Yes, the princess,” sighed Kora. She shook her head. “Well, we should go. The peasants who saw us fighting we’ll report us to the local official or sheriff as soon as they stop running.”

“Then we best ride,” Sven said, hauling himself into his saddle. He held out his arm to me.

I grinned and leaped. He caught me and hauled me behind him with such ease. So strong. Such a warrior. My tail waved back and forth as I purred, rubbing my cheek into his leather jerkin. My pussy grew so hot and wet as we galloped off. I breathed in the smell of him, so glad I had Sven for my owner.

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 17.

Support me on Patreon!

I have released a part 41 of the revamped Devil’s Pact on Smashwords. Read this post for more information if you’re interested!

Facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditlinkedintumblrby feather
Facebooktwitterrsstumblrby feather

Leave a Reply