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The Bowyer's Tale

By: Ziedrich



Karan the equerry's eyes were watering from more than the smoke of damp firewood as he finished his story. The others looked away.

The tanner sat awkwardly between Karan and the wild-haired fisherman who shivered as he stared into the embers. When the silent charcoal burner rose and limped to the woodpile outside his rain-sodden cabin, the tanner scurried out behind. "I'll –uh- help him with the firewood."

But the handsome bowyer's fingers drummed on his armless chair as he watched the wind-rattled door for their return. He nearly burst when the old charcoal burner –coming back alone- stopped to wring out his white beard, and he loosed his rambling tale like an arrow the instant the tanner struggled in under a smaller armload. 

So I met her last spring. Maybe five moons back, before the war started.

Karan jerked upright.

Well I'd just hiked up to Vanávas- that's the capital, you know- that morning. And I was- oh! I mean before we joined the war. In Davasan. I know you Leaguers were fighting a year ago. Or something like that.

Karan and the tanner settled back. Lightning flashed outside, but the storm was dwindling again. 

Well the war hadn't started, but the king called us up anyway- the archers I mean. I'm a damn good archer. Any good bowyer has to be able to shoot. 

I wasn't a captain then, but I'd seen the most action, so I was leading the contingent from Savásias. About four hundred men, but only me and Sadaval were from Asvan- that's my village. Oh and Savásias is a province up in the northeast, but it's not quite on the coast. That'd be Taraslan.

Anyway, we'd been on the road three weeks and we were all covered in sweat and dust and all. I hadn't had a girl since leaving home, so I'll be damned if the whores outside Vanávas didn't look tempting, but the steward met us at the gate and said to report to the castle right away. None of us believed there'd really be a war, but he was in mail and everything like he expected one then and there. There was even mail all over his... dextrier?

"Destrier," the equerry corrected politely, "And that's called 'barding.' The Signore has barding for all his horses." 

The bowyer nodded, sipped his ale, and resumed. 

So we went up to the castle double-time with him. And I mean up. It's at least a mile higher on Mount Tandrásas from the city pass. And that's still not even halfway to the top! 

We'd never even seen peaks like those Bastravalas back in Savásias, so the older guys were all panting and stumbling when we arrived. 

It was fucking huge. The walls were maybe fifty feet high and made of stone! Gray and grim and bare like the mountain. 

The gate was this dark tunnel through a tower. I marched through, glanced over, and bam!

He clapped a fist into his calloused palm. 

There was Arsalin looking hot as forge-fire. The wind was blowing her hair way out to here. Never saw black hair before but I liked it straight off.

His smile turned roguish as he leaned in. 

It was blowing her dress against her perfect ass too. 

I was damned near snow-blind after the climb, so it was a moment before I realized I had no idea what I was looking at. Like she half-seemed like a noblewoman with that scarlet dress and fur-trimmed gloves and cape. I think she even had a gold necklace with some kind of little red gem. 

But she was wearing boots. Red and new-looking like the rest, but serious boots. With knives in them and more on her belt. And her bare, brown arms looked strong and hard as any country girl's back home. 

The weirdest thing was none of it looked out of place on her. Except the sword. She had this big sword on her back that seemed all wrong for her somehow.

The others were puzzled, but the fisherman winced and nervously twisted strands of his wild beard. 

Couldn't really tell her age right either. Like I know she must've been forty-some, but right then I guessed twenty-two or so like me.

I was wondering if this beauty had a husband around who'd lop my head off for talking to her when she waved at me. 

Well holy shit. But I just nodded at her real smooth, "Morning."

I heard mail clink and a horse stop behind me. The steward's deep voice boomed, "Naught but the archers. Ill news with the Grandmoot to meet tonight." 

She'd been waving at him behind me! Damn was I glad I hadn't waved back. He stayed to talk with her while one of his men led us on.

The bit of the keep near there was old and grim like the walls, but they sent us around through a bunch of courtyards and it wasn't all like that. The parts away from the gate were kinda like some of the palaces I saw marching past Virse two moons back. Some of the towers didn't even have those toothy things or soldiers at the top. One had a big, fancy bell. And instead of just slits, they had stained glass in big windows.

Well they take us down to this huge room in the cellars and it's full of pools and giant kettles for heating snowmelt. Then they tell us there's time to wash up since we got there by noon. Music to my ears after three weeks marching!

I was pretty dazed by then and stayed that way till we'd bathed, washed our clothes, and had a bite to eat. You never feel more like a man than when you're finally clean after weeks of stinking like an animal, you know?

And speaking of feeling like a man, it's like a whole new breed of girl lived in that castle. Thin and fine and pretty and not afraid of showing some tit over their blouses. I was just talking to a buxom one serving soup when in come three or four heralds with trumpets. 

It turned out "my" men got to stay with the girls, but I had to go to a "war council." Fuck! The hell did they need me for? Sure I'd fought a lot, but just pirates who sneaked through Taraslan. I didn't know anything about commanding armies. I wasn't even an officer then.

Karan stroked his grizzled, red beard, "I know what you mean. Suddenly I'm treated like a general just because I'm around the Signore a lot." 

 "Thank the Lady for that or we couldn't be meeting-"

 "I'm telling my story!" the bowyer cut the tanner off. 

So I say goodbye to the wench and the heralds take me to the throne room. It was all white in there. Marble, you know? With pillars all decorated and banners and statues and everything. Never saw anything like it. It was dim and stifling like the rest of the castle though.

The room had two levels; us group leaders and a few of the king's men were down on the low one. The king and his brother the steward-

 "The steward is the king's brother?" It was almost the first sign that the small-voiced fisherman had been listening as he brushed the pale scar where his left thumb should have been. 

Karan answered first, "The Signore said that's tradition in Davasan. King Saválas Davas and Asdan Davas the steward." 

The bowyer jumped in, "I didn't know then; Arsalin told me later. That they were brothers I mean. Or their names." 

The tanner arched a mocking eyebrow. "You didn't know?" 

 "Hey, shut up! Savásias was my whole fucking world till the king called us up." 

 "Davasan is huge," Karan told the tanner, "So's Tir Lindran. Maybe bigger than the whole League, counting Isva. I think I heard the Signore say that." 

 "It's true," the bowyer boasted, then took a long drink. "I learned to read maps after the battle near Daraigo last moon. Davasan's half as big as Zhendry. That's why the king calls us archers up first, see? It'd take forever to muster all Davasan. But he has his elite troops ready. Anyway, I didn't know this shit then, but Karan said we should share everything we know now." 

So yeah, me and some archers from other bits of Davasan were down on the low level. 

The king was on a balcony with the Grandmoot. You know; the steward, the master of the mints, the snowreader, and maybe thirty governors or their envoys. Even with a fancy robe and a gilt-hilted sword, the steward looked like a soldier. Young and brawny like me too.

And there's Arsalin standing just like him on the king's other side! No sword, but she had a... I think they call it a 'diadem' to match the necklace and the shiniest red gown I ever saw. 

They were saying something about being ready if Davasan joined the war. But like hell that was gonna happen. We'd never even heard of the little countries Zhendry got. We'd sure never heard of the blackguard.

So, you know, I nodded along and tried not to look at her. She had to be the king's consort or whatever they're called; I'd be dead if they caught me checking out her tits, but there I was again. Knowing I couldn't have her just made her hotter somehow. Did she just smile at me? Shit, I was getting hard.

Suddenly we're dismissed. What a fucking relief! 

The servants said us contingent leaders got our own rooms. Not all bad afterall.

But first we had time for a "luncheon". I'd never seen anything like that either. I mean, they were serving real wine - better than I'd ever had- and the servants just walked by and refilled it. I must've had three goblets, maybe more. And there were pork pies and jellied eels and huge bowls of thick beef stew with spices I'd never heard of and candied fruits and even fresh fruits and like forty kinds of bread. None of us even knew how to eat half of it, so we mainly just talked.

Most of the other leaders were a lot older than me- and not as good-looking. Actually some of them looked pretty different. I always figured everyone in Davasan was like folks in Savásias -and most were, but not all of them. The ones from the great southern vale were lighter-skinned and kinda lean-like and a few of them even had yellow hair. Still mostly like us though, and dressed in shirts and pants like us instead of your tunics and shit.

Well anyway, we talked a bit different but of course we all spoke Davaska. I chatted with the other north vale types mostly. Some'd fought in that war with Virse, and the ones from Saláhand and Taraslan'd fought a lot more pirates and slavers than I had. Real veterans. There used to be hundreds of pirates on the Sea of Sarahasla, you know, but it's been getting better these last five years.

The fisherman straightened in his creaking chair, looking as pale as a Tir Lindrani could by firelight. But everyone was listening to the bowyer and he didn't get to say whatever he wanted to. 

Well I was too tired to eat or talk much. I wanted to get another bath, hit the furs, then find a nice wench to bed. Hardy ever been hornier. Mainly it was going three weeks without a girl- back home I had a couple in every village - but it was partly all the wine and partly Arsalin too.

The bell rang three- you could hear it through most of the castle, you know.

So I got up and had a pretty servant girl lead the way to the baths and then my room. The place was a fucking maze. When I asked her to join me in the bath she giggled before running out, so I figured I'd look for her after I'd slept. 

My 'room' turned out to be bigger than my whole house and workshop back home. For light it had three big candelabra and a... like a ceiling window. 

"I think they're called 'skylights,' " Karan put in. 

The chair cushions and blankets- on a real bed- had the black rose of Davasan. A writing desk too, not that I'm lettered. And my first-ever lock on the door. One time Saralas – that's my little sis- almost walked in on me with this busty girl Tarasha bent over my workbench.

The others winced, but Karan smiled wistfully. "Ameri and I used to make up errands to get our boy out of the house. Asaigo was a good lad. One time he hadn't come back by nearly sundown and we found him still looking for chicken milk in town. Never lied to him after that." 

The bowyer laughed. "My sis'd never fall for that. She got the smarts, I got the looks." He really was a rakishly handsome young man. Short, brown hair framed his strong and stubbly features well and in the firelight his tall, muscular build had a sort of primal majesty. 

Well anyway, I opened my door and there's Arsalin! She was lying back on my bed to read a map, black hair pouring off like a waterfall. "Close the door, would you, Sarasa?"

What the fuck was going on? What the fuck should I do? And how the fuck did she know my name? She'd heard it maybe once.

The charcoal burner struggled with their tongue as he spoke at last, "She was... good with... names. All her life." 

"Of course, it's a divine gift." The tanner was a true man of Isva. "The Lady-"

"Is a false goddess." Karan was a true man of the Old League. "She was a great sorceress but-"

"Would you fucking coots shut the hell up? Arsalin worked years –well moons at least- getting our kings to stop squabbling over shit like this so we can kill that Zhendrian warlock-"

"Wait, what?" The tanner swallowed a sharp retort. 

"Let me fucking get there!" Sarasa stopped and drained his mug. "Ugh, sorry, old man. Look, I know I'm not smart like you and Karan, but even you two aren't gonna be able to figure this shit out unless we all work together." He continued right along to avoid an awkward silence. 

Well, I closed the door when she said to again. She'd stood and brushed her hair back before I managed a confused, "Hello?" 

Up close, I could see she was older than she'd looked. About forty-five? Her pretty face was starting to crease here and there, but she wasn't wearing makeup like the other women in the castle. That shit is fucking weird. I don't like it. We don't have it back in the country. Anyway, maybe she was 'wiry' twenty-whatever years ago, but she's pretty built now. In a womanly kind of way. 

"Fierce, just like you said." The bowyer's approving nod didn't quite mollify Karan. "But her hair's black. Not brown." 

The others agreed and Karan conceded, "I never did see her in good light." 

Now Asvan is just a little village, not one of your League cities. Other than Davasaners, all I'd met were a few hairy, highland Tir Lindrani trappers. I'd sure never seen a northwoman before. Her skin was a rich, dark brown, with sorta a red undertone. It was a bit like mahogany or copper but much darker, or like...

"Well like yours," he pointed at the charcoal burner. "But prettier." 

She was shorter than Davasaner women- just up to my shoulder- and her long hair was clean and smelled like some kind of wildflower. I don't know much about flowers.

She was smiling at me. "Hello to you too." She looked me over and slunk closer, "Mmm, fresh from the baths aren't you?"

I was getting sober real fucking quick thinking about the trouble I might be in. "I -uh- yes?"

"Now that's what I like to hear," she purred. Her bodice slid down an inch, but I tried not to look. Didn't help much; her black eyes were deep and smoldering. And she smelled hot. I was hard before she'd backed me into the corner. This time her tone was sharp, "I hear you've been hounding the serving girls. I assume you don't have a wife back home?"

Hadn't expected that. "I'm... um... sorry?" 

"Back off and I'm sure they'll call it square. They have enough trouble without hundreds of strangers trying to grab them while they work."

Maybe I had been a bit forward.

Arsalin sighed. "I said we should've hired some whores from Vanávas, but of course the snowreader wouldn't hear of it. So," she looked up at me, "you have a wife back home? Fiancée?"

Now that was a question I was used to. "Hell no. I'm too much man for just one woman." 

"Wanna bet?"

"Yes. I mean no!" Even if I hadn't been drinking, it would've been hard not to say stupid shit when I could feel her hot breath on my neck and see right down her gown. I always liked all kinds of tits. Big ones like Tarasha's that you can barely wrap your hands around or little bouncy ones like hers, doesn't matter. "I mean -I- you're the king's-"

She waved at herself with a laugh, "I belong only to one very special lady. Though I have been bedding your king lately. Don't worry," she winked, "He'll only be mad that I didn't bring him to watch."

"What? The king?"

"Oh yes. Most nights he likes to call a few of his men in and watch them fuck me while he gets ready again." She rubbed one hand along her hip, sliding her gown up so I could see her toned, ebony leg. "I'm sure I could convince him to invite you. If you'd help me out with something first anyway."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I couldn't believe I was babbling like an idiot, "What kind of -I mean- no- I mean."

"No? Very well." She shrugged and straightened her dress. "If you don't want to fuck me, I'll be going. Goodnight and do leave the maidservants al-"

"Wait! Wait I mean..."

She stopped with her hand on the knob. "Yes?" 

"Just... holy shit, what the fuck is going on?"

"Well." Her long hair swished as she turned back. "I wanted to have some fun with the strapping young buck who couldn't keep his eyes off me. But he's not interested afterall, so I'll be on my way."

"Now hold on," I played it smooth. I was usually good at that; the girls back home loved me, but I wasn't used to them being so... bold. It was actually sorta hot though. Ok, really hot. But it was new and strange. Dangerous too since she was the king's consort or something. "Sure, you look like a great fuck. But I'm no fool."

Of course she goes, "Oh really?"

"Hey, shut up! I'm drunk is all! No girl's worth the king lopping my head off."

"Smart and handsome?" She prowled back toward me, "Hm, but not that smart or you'd have realized I'd be the first on the chopping block if Saválas was a jealous sort. I wouldn't have come here in the first place."

It sounded like a good point, though I wasn't sober enough to be sure. She smirked when she saw my pants bulging in agreement.

"I'm a busy woman. I've got others in mind if you're not interested. But I think I might have heard a challenge. Something about no woman ever being enough for you?"

"You think you could be?"

"Only one way to find out." She was right next to me again. I reached up to cup her tits, but she caught my hands. "Whoah there, boy, you'd better hear the bet first."

"I'm not a boy, and I'm not a patient man either," I growled. 

She grinned wickedly, "Then you've already lost. First to make the other come three times wins-"

"Done-"

"Hold on!" Damn, she was strong for a woman. "Loser does a favor for the winner."

Oh I liked where that was going. I've had a lot of girls and I'm really fucking good. I just needed her to spell it out so there'd be no wriggling out when I won. "A favor?"

"That's right, big guy," she tickled my wrists while she held them. Her teasing had me ready to snap like a bad string. "Any sexy thing you want me to do, I'll do it- if you win. Anything."

"Anything?" I had too many ideas to pick a favorite. She didn't know what she was getting into.

The tanner snorted. Sarasa glared at him and went on. 

"Anything. But if I win, you do any sexy favor I ask you to. Fair?"

Almost too good to be true. "Fair!"

She loosed my hands! Her gown had to be that silk stuff I'd always heard of; it was softer than I could've imagined. Dry too, she was barely sweating in the heat. 

Her tits were soft handfuls through the fabric; I cupped them and brushed my fingers all around like Rastára loved. Arsalin hooded her lids and cooed happily. I'd win easy!

I heard her boot skitter across the floor. I'm still impressed she got it off without any shift or stumble. The woman balances like a dancer.

"Like a swordsman." The fisherman leaned forward to try to hide the tent in his threadbare, wool skirt. All it really did was show them the pelt of gray and brown Tir Lindrani hair down his blouse. 


The Bowyer's Tale



Well anyway, I knew I'd won when she whispers, "You'd like them even better if you took my dress off." She put my hands on a line of buttons down to the small of her back and pressed in close. "Try not to break them, big guy." 

Her eager hands roaming my back and her warm body grinding against my cock through our clothes made it really fucking hard to work those buttons. When I felt her little tongue on my neck I almost ripped one off! And she slurped me again and again like a deer at a salt lick. Gods, I never knew I was so sensitive there. My hands were shaking, but I just wanted to go faster!

The gown opened inch by inch, showing me more of her curvy back. And then I could see right down to her toned butt; she was naked under the dress! Had she been during the 'war council' too? Right in front of everyone? Fuck, that was hot!

She flowed out of her dress and stepped back out of the scarlet puddle. "Like what you see, handsome?" Holy shit did I! Her whole body was that same pretty shade of ruddy brown from head to toe, supple and strong as a good bow. Just a little gray in her hair, just a few wrinkles here and there. And she moved like... I don't know. Like a stream, like a flame, like a cat. 

Then she picked it- well, she looks me in the eye, see? Then she scrunches up her toes and picks up the dress with her foot.

The gown swished as she pulled her knee up high. Her hair was actually black between her legs too and it was trimmed into a strip pointing down to her lips. I'd never thought of that, but I was damn well gonna suggest it to Avásala and Tarasha and the rest when I got home. 

So she's still looking right at me, yeah? And then she slowly, slowly straightens her leg to her right so I could watch her pussy open bit by bit. It was lighter than the rest of her- and a delicious pink inside- with full, smooth, glistening-wet lips.

She was so strange and so different and so beautiful that I wanted to just bury my face in her and lick her for hours. The girls back home loved that.

 "Pretty sure women everywhere like that," the tanner chuckled, "In Isva we have-" 

Karan shushed him and the bowyer refilled his mug and returned to the story. 

A kick threw the dress on my desk. "Hope you didn't plan on writing any letters soon!" Gods, I loved her little smirk. 

Arsalin grinned wider when she saw where I was still staring. Shaking just a bit but never looking away, she turned on her toes and raised her leg higher till she was balancing with it right up in the air. And me looking right into her slick, inviting pussy while she rubbed her little tits for me. Those lips were just begging for a kiss, but I was fucking spellbound. 

Well she held her leg up even higher with one arm, licked the other hand just like this, reached down slow, and started jilling herself. Shit, I nearly blew my load right there.

I tried to yank my clothes off, but they were plastered to me. My shirt was stuck over my head when I felt her hands on my abs. She put her face right up against them to look back up at me through a little gap. "Let me- mmm," she flicked out her pink tongue for a taste. "Let me help you with that."

I couldn't see, but I felt her fingers spidering up my back and her breasts brushing me while her tongue tickled a line up my chest. She breathed on my nipple, hot and damp, then licked it all over while she finally pulled my shirt off my arms.

You fucking bet I said yes when she asked if she could take the rest off.

So she puts my hands on her shoulders and goes to her knees like a falling leaf, nuzzling my cock through my pants. A tug on my ankles told me to let her pull my boots off. It's hard standing on one leg while a gorgeous woman grinds her face on your crotch, but I had her to lean on.

The stone floor felt gritty and warm from the sunbeam when my socks came off. That was nice, but the feel of her massaging my feet was so much better. Her fingers were calloused and rough, but her touch was soft and feathery and made all the aches of three weeks pounding the roads melt away. 

I tried to do the same for her shoulders and she wriggled them playfully and flashed a sparkling-eyed smile. 

But her hair was calling me. It wasn't just colored different, it felt different. It was soft as any girl's back home- or softer- but smooth and straight and kinda slippery. It ran through my fingers like water and I had to try that again. And again. Most girls I knew didn't grow their hair past their shoulders like that either- just Dalasasa really. Too long and it'd get in the way or catch in branches or looms or whatever I guess. I held a graying strand up to smell those flowers again, and she followed it up a moment later.

She wrapped her arms around me and rubbed my back while I squeezed her firm, round butt and ground her body against my cock. We grinned at each other and I could see the lust in her black eyes. Oh we were gonna fuck so hard once I got those pants off. 

I was about to pick her up and carry her to the bed when she stood up on tiptoes to kiss me. Well not quite kiss. No, she licked my lips. And then down my neck and the other side of my chest till she could kneel to slowly pull down my pants and drawers with her teeth, hands tickling the small of my back. When my straining cock was almost loose, she took a long, deep sniff. "Mmm. Fresh from the baths indeed."

Then she went swiped them down! My cock sprang free, just covered in pre-cum after all that teasing, and she smiled hungrily up at it looming over her. I'm pretty big- a thick eight inches or so- but I'd never felt prouder than with her admiring me. It sounded dumb, but I had to ask, "Like what you see, beautiful?"

"Ohhh, yes," her voice was thick. "You've got quite a chest, big guy. And this looks like a nice cock." A white strand dripped from the tip, and she caught it on her tongue as she sat up. Whoah. 

I had no fucking idea what to do with my hands, but she put hers on my ass and felt my muscles while she just breathed on me and leaned closer and closer. Another white bead nearly fell to the floor, but she darted the last inch and caught it as she kissed the tip.

Fuck, that felt good! I'd had girls blow me before, but it was never like this. They thought it was dirty or a chore or a waste of time before fucking them and some wouldn't do it at all. But now one of the hottest women I'd ever seen was kissing my dick like there was nothing in the world she'd rather do. After three weeks, I was ready to come then and there, but I balled my fists and held on.

She licked the pre-cum off me from the head of my cock to my balls like a cat lapping a bowl of milk, stopping to kiss away every new drop till I was clean and shining wet. 

That's when she looked up at me, braced her arms to hold me back, and parted her lips to take me in. Oh gods, it was torture how slow she went, tonguing around and around in a lazy spiral. I bucked uselessly as her lips finally slid over my head. "I'm gonna-" I warned, but she didn't pull off. No, that's when she started sucking.

Fuck, fuck, fuck! I never came so much in my life! I was so dizzy I might've fallen without her holding me up. She took spurt after spurt without spilling any. And when I saw her swallowing, I almost- I don't know. It was just... I don't have a word for it.

I mean... I'd bedded a lot of girls, but none had ever swallowed a drop of my cum on purpose. The ones who'd blow me at all just wanted to get me hard to fuck them sooner. Arsalin was something new.

Everything was so new. I'd never imagined buildings that big. I'd figured the whole world was fair, brown-haired north-Davasaners. Hell, I'd barely known there was more to food than rye bread, venison, soup, and a couple kinds of cheese. In Asvan we thought I was seasoned and worldly and I'd been all around. But now all Savásias seemed like one shaft in a quiver.

Arsalin really had been around. I'd thought I was great in bed; I could always last long enough for my girls and I was good with my hands or eating them out. But she fucked better than I made bows. Not only had I come before her, I'd almost forgotten our wager. I was pretty drunk of course.

He wasn't far from being drunk again, and he spoke loud and earnestly for it. 

Well... I caught my breath. When Arsalin had sucked the last dribbles out of me, she licked her lips and sat back with her eyes closed. "Ahhh. Oh, that was good. Either you haven't come in weeks or I might have to keep you."

"That was..." I couldn't find the words. And I was already hard again.

"You haven't seen anything yet!" It was tough to believe her, but I did it. "Now listen up." She suckled the tip of my cock again when she saw another white drip well out. "Mmm."

Gods, I was starting to love that little sound she made almost as much as her smile.

"Listen up, big guy. You're going to love this, but I do it at my pace. So keep your hands off my head. Put them on my shoulders or my breasts if you can reach them. Or yours for that matter, I don't give a damn. But don't push me down. We clear?" Honestly, I'd never done that. It was hard enough getting anyone to try blowing me without being an asshole. I nodded. "Smart guy- mmph!"

No more spiral teasing, she sucked my whole head right in. Maybe it wasn't as hot or tight as fucking a girl, but it was softer and wetter- and more interesting. She slurped, petted, and licked with her tongue, brushed me against the bumps of the roof of her mouth, hummed till my knees went weak, tickled me on her teeth, slid me on the silky smooth inside of her cheeks, sucked all over, and swallowed every bit my pre-cum.

But the best part was her hungry grin. Gods, she was loving it! Just the thought had me rock hard even before she started bobbing up and down with soft slurps.

She put her hands on my butt and pulled me deeper. I held on to her steely shoulders and tried to massage them.

Every bob she went further, tongue sliding ahead underneath. It was so hard to hold still while I watched myself disappear into her inch by inch. That's hot enough when I'm fucking a girl and I know what the next inch is gonna feel like, but it was even better now that I didn't know what amazing thing was coming next.

She was halfway down when I felt the bumpy back of her throat. No one else had gone that deep, but that was that. Sure enough she winced just a bit and slowly slid back, licking all the way, and let white and clear strands of pre-cum and drool spatter and paint her tits. I was just drenched when she pulled off with one last, lingering kiss.

Arsalin held me to her lips so they brushed me with every word. "I've gotta say, it's cute how you think I'm done." She smiled at my twitching cock in front of her face and ran a hand up and down the veined shaft. "But this cutie and I are just getting to know each other." 

We locked eyes as I watched her slide her soft lips down again. Her little tongue was still out in front, lapping my sensitive underside till I felt the back of her mouth. But this time she had her head tilted so I was angling down. And this time she grabbed my butt and pulled me into her throat. Holy shit! I thought she gagged, so I tried to pull out and let her breathe, but she held me in with one hand and gave a thumbs-up with the other. Holy shit! 

Her throat was tight!  It was hot too and deliciously soft, with a feel unlike any pussy I'd ever had. She slowly pushed down even further, drooling and smiling up at me. Her tender throat clung every sweet inch of the way till, with a few last wriggles and muffled moans, her nose was digging into me.

I couldn't believe it. I'd never been all the way inside a woman before; I was too big. But there she was, her brown northwoman cheeks against my tan Davasaner crotch and no sign of my cock but how good it felt while we looked at each other. I never felt so... connected with anyone before. She held on a beautiful moment before she pulled halfway back.

I was afraid I'd hurt her, but she just breathed through her nose once or twice and then slid down again! I almost came right then, but she yanked back and grinned. "Not just yet, big guy. I want to really savor this." She licked up a strand of pre-cum and then slid her hands between her legs, watching my glistening cock twitch in front of her.

Fuck that was hot! If you ask me, there's nothing prettier than a girl fingering her pussy. Avásala had the nicest one I'd seen; one time I had her jill herself in a chair while I watched. It was great but she made a face and stared at the ground the whole time, so I never asked her to again.

This was different. I mean, I couldn't see much, but holy shit was she into it! There were little squishes as her fingers slid in. And the way she was looking at me, I felt like I was just as sexy as her. In a manly way, you know?

And I could feel every moan and pant. "Phew! You like that, big guy?"

"Fuck yeah!" I ran my sweaty fingers through her hair again. I had to ask a dumb question, "Did you?"

"Fuck yeah!" she mimicked, "Mmm. I love it." Arsalin giggled, "Maaaybe not as much as you." Somehow I didn't think she was lying. "It feels so right having a cock down my throat- hell, that's the only way to take a big one like yours all the way. Just-" she shivered as she really went to work between her legs, "Just the smell would get me wet if the taste didn't. I can feel -ah- feel every little vein and bump, and the whole cock is hard and soft all at once." She had to stop to catch her breath. So did I. Normally I'm not one for talking while I fuck, but that was about the hottest thing I'd ever heard. "And it's so sexy hearing you groan and looking way up at a man about to give me all his cum. And then that's my favorite part! Oh, there's nothing like it." Arsalin winked, "And I like showing people I'm the fucking best."

"You sure fucking are." I watched her hands fly over her clit and hunkered down to join her, but she shook her head. 

"Oh no you don't, handsome; you keep this lovely cock where I can see it."

I felt kinda left out. I'd forgotten the bet, but I really wanted to make her come. I mean, making the girl come's the best part. Well I could pose for her and talk at least. "Whatever you want, beautiful. Love those pretty lips of yours. Both sets."

She moaned and leaned back to give me a better view, "You like watching me?"

Hell yes I did. I could see her tight abs rippling just under her rich, brown skin and her pussy squishing under her fingers. "Gods, I'd have gone north years ago if I knew there were girls like you there."

She sped up. "Mmm. What if I was southern?"

"I'd cross Veirandr and sled the ice sheets of the Sea of Ghosts." I stroked her face since it was about all I could reach.

My fingers must've been rough, but she closed her eyes and smiled, "You would?" 

I was really babbling after all that wine. "Fuck yeah! If the king had any sense, he'd marry you today."

She leaned forward again, looking at my cock while she jilled. "I wouldn't marry him."

I could hardly believe it, but then I could hardly believe anyone could take a cock down their throat- let alone like it. No one back home would believe me till I taught one of the girls to do it. Tarasha might give it a try if I licked her long enough. Anything sounded good to her when I had my face between her legs. Well anyway, of course I asked why.

"I love s-" I swear, for just a second she looked sad. "I love fucking other men too much. And live in a place like this? You can't feel the wind." 

I was with her there; it wasn't natural having so much stone in the way of the sky. 

"Or smell the earth." She breathed in deep, "It's nice in here though." 

She was right about that too; lust and fresh sweat perfumed the room.

Arsalin licked her lips and slid me down her throat again, then started bobbing up and down real quick. I could hear her fingers going even faster between her legs and she had this fucking beautiful, blissed-out look on her face. Her moans were muffled, but I felt her shuddering and saw her eyes flutter and she grabbed my butt for balance with one sticky hand.

She was coming sucking me! Shit, that was so hot that I came like a thunderclap, pouring my cum right into her. 

When she felt that, she pushed down all the way and swallowed and swallowed and swallowed with just a fierce, hungry look in her eyes. 

Gods, she was drinking me again! And I could feel her doing it! I think I yelled something but I've got no fucking idea what- right then there was just my cock and her mouth and how good it was. I wouldn't have stopped if a fucking bear tore down the door.

Her fingers slowed as I finally finished. 

Shit! I'd grabbed her head when I came! I let go fast as she pulled back. But she didn't really seem mad. Hell, I half-expected her to purr like a fed cat.

I was going soft, but she kept gently suckling my head for every last drop while we looked at each other. You fucking bet I tried to squeeze out all I could for her. Just the idea that she liked drinking my cum was going to get me hard for weeks.

At last she stood up and stretched, rolling her head around with her black hair flowing and then bending backwards till she crunched. That was fucking hot too when she did it. Don't know just why. Something about how graceful she was. Lithe and powerful like a mountain lion.

She gave me a little push and I fell back onto the bed with her, soft blankets clinging to my sweaty skin. Arsalin sat back against one bedpost and looked over at another. "A little too high up and nowhere to stand. Otherwise I could give you a real show while you get ready." She leaned back to slowly rub her pussy again.

This time I could see everything. She was slick and soaked and her light brown lips were lovely between her darker thighs. 

"You have no idea," she closed her eyes and slid a hand up and down the pole, "what the king and I get up to in his room. Or the throne room if we find it empty." She grinned, "Or mostly empty."

"In front of the servants?" My hand strayed to my cock, just resting there for now.

"Or behind them." She giggled. "Living in a castle with so many men around is nice sometimes. Though he seems to like the women better. Can't imagine why."

"I can't imagine why he'd want to fuck anyone el-" I realized I was losing our wager.

"Oh, he doesn't usually. Once in a while he did anyway when I asked him to; he's a dear."

At first I thought she said "deer." She really did remind me of a cougar.

Her fingers pulled her lips in lazy arcs. She was watching me watch her mostly, but she peeked down now and then to see if I was hard yet. "No, he likes to sit back and watch me fuck them."

I was still soft, but not for long. "How many men have you ha- wait, he has you fuck the girls?"

"Sure does. It's not as fun, but it's relaxing. I can sit her on a chair and lick her for an hour. Or sometimes we use toys from Isva or Elbelé." Arsalin rolled onto her back with her strong legs folded on top of her. From this angle I was looking right down the folds of her pussy, watching as she slid a pair of long fingers in and out and rubbed her clit with the other hand. "Do you like that? Thinking about me with my face between another woman's legs? Saválas sure does."

I was just grasping that she called my king by his first name. And that there really were girls who fucked other girls. I'd heard of that, but never met one. Honestly, it wasn't half as hot as knowing I was looking at a woman who actually liked sucking on my cock.

She started twisting her fingers around inside herself and sighed happily. "As for how many, I'd say most of them! Thousands anyway. All over the world."




The Bowyer's Tale



I know some men don't want a woman who'd had other men, let alone so many. Maybe I was one till that day. I'd sure been mad when Tarasha fucked Saláva- the coppersmith's son, that is. I'd never been interested in older women before either. Now Arsalin'd had more men that I'd ever seen and been screwing before I was born, but that just made her hotter. Partly since all that practice made her fucking amazing, but it also just felt great that a woman with so much experience was into me.

I'd started stroking myself and Arsalin winked. "That's right, handsome, get yourself ready for me. I'm gonna suck every drop of cum out of you. Hey, would you sit up? I'd like to see those muscles work."

Somehow it was kinda embarrassing. Crazy, I know. I just didn't know how to make jacking off look good, so I tried to get her talking again instead. "So... what else do you and the king do?"

She laughed. "You're a little too young to be hearing about that. But I'll tell you if you can guess who Asdan is screwing."

"Asdan?" 

"The king's brother. The steward." She was going faster now, and getting wetter and louder.

I really couldn't guess; I hadn't even known his name, let alone any of the noblewomen's. Maybe some governor's wife? It was the best I could think of.

"Not even close." She scooched over and whispered it to me, licking my ear between words, "Talávan." The name meant nothing. "The snowreader."

"No! His holiness? He's a man! He's a priest, he couldn't!"

"Oh he's not allowed. I hear he whips himself for it. He's a liar and a hypocrite, but he loves husky young men." She ran one wet hand over my chest and the other down my back and grinned. "We've got that in common."

I couldn't believe the high priest had broken his vows, let alone with a man. "And- and the steward?"

"A bit dour, but my kind of man. Shame he's not into women." She put my hands on her tits and then wrapped her arms around me. 

Now this I understood. She seemed really sensitive before, so she'd likely want a soft touch and some teasing- not like Tarasha or Lasava and her sisters. I knew I was right when she nipped my ear. "Between us," she said breathlessly, "I don't think he's into Talávan either."

It was weird but sorta spitefully nice finding out maybe the snowreader wasn't so holy. We don't really like priests or diviners in the country, you know? Word just comes from the capital that the flakes say we need to plant now or go repair a chapel or something. And if we don't, they say we're going against the gods. But then maybe they're wrong about when the frost will come and we all know we'd have had a bigger harvest if we just waited a week like the older farmers wanted.

Some of the others shifted, tempted to explain that the three gods of Davasan were clearly false, but remembered what Sarasa said about not squabbling and settled back. He resumed his thirsty story after setting down his re-emptied mug and wiping the froth from his lip. 

Arsalin really liked me tickling the bottom of her tits, so I went to work there while she kept whispering. "I think- mmm. I think Asdan thinks the priests are charlatans and fucks the snowreader just to prove his point. Your kingdom is pretty screwed up at the top if you ask me."

I was in bed with the king's woman, so I couldn't deny that if I'd wanted to. Honestly, the capital felt a whole other country. 

Once all the empty war talk was over, I'd be hurrying home. Maybe say goodbye to my folks and see what Tir Lindran was like. The trappers I met were assholes, but they did teach me some Taldrish and Dad always said you had to treat foreigners good since they were like guests in our house.

Anyway, right then I just wanted to squeeze her t- I felt an old scar under her left breast.

Karan pursed his lips. 

"Don't ask," she said. I think she was surprised when I didn't. 

I was more interested in starting to really play with her little boobs. She was getting into that, and I think she was impressed I was so good. 

Without a hint of irony, Sarasa looked up from the fire to lecture an Isvan and married men twice his age on how to treat a woman. "The most important thing is every girl's tits are different. Like some love it if you bite their nipples a bit, but some hate it. So you've gotta know how to do lots of stuff: squeeze, knead, pet, squash, massage, slap, tickle, lick, scratch, suck, kiss, and bite for starters. Just ask what she likes till you get good enough to tell. And don't forget no one likes the same stuff all the time." 

Anyway, the bed creaks and she scoots back so I can see what I'm doing. She put a hand down to finger herself, so I picked up the pace while she scratched her short nails down my abs and through my bush.

When I felt where she was going, I leaned in to lick her hard nipples while I squeezed her boobs. They sagged just a little, but I liked how soft they were with her firm chest just underneath.

I jumped and moaned into her tits when her long fingers wrapped around my cock; they were still warm from her pussy! 

It wasn't easy to keep going while she stroked my dick so good, but like hell I was missing a chance to suck on her tits when she liked that so much! Her nipples were just a little rough on my tongue and she'd jump every time I circled them that way I have. She tasted nice too- and she was hardly sweating a bit in the heat.

Every third stroke or so she dipped her fingers back in her snatch to get me wetter. Once I was hard and slick with both our juices, she had me give her little breast one last kiss then put her sticky hands on my chest and pushed me back till I was sitting up with my legs splayed out.

Arsalin smirked and went down on all fours, head down and hips up till there was a straight line from my cock to her mouth to her ass. Ready to pounce as she crawled closer. I groaned louder than the bed when felt her lips wrap around me, tongue out and licking ahead as she slid down slow and steady. She didn't stop till she was licking my balls and I was buried to the root in her heavenly throat- still growing inside her.

Without coming up, she put my hands on her tits and slid hers back out of sight till heard them squishing between her legs again.

She pulled back till her lips were just past my head, took a long breath through her nose, then slid down again. Drool dripped down my balls and it sounded like her other lips were just as wet.

She wasn't fingering herself fast though, so I went back to just teasing her breasts as she gently rose and sank. Her throat gripped and squished all around me and her tongue slid everywhere.

Another breath, then I gasped as she somehow went down even further. Her nose dug into me so far it almost hurt. 

She lay perfectly still with me deeper than ever in her soft, hot, wet throat and then thrummed quietly. I don't know what song she was humming, but I could feel the melody. 

We fell into the rhythm she set, her playing with her pussy and me with her tits as she sucked my cock. We sped up or slowed together without talking, just groaning and slurping as we looked at each other.

Once or twice I felt her laugh gaily before she'd slide back again, thrumming faster and faster. I was getting even harder, dribbling pre-cum right into her thirsty throat.

I'll tell you, there was nothing like seeing how her eyes fluttered when I learned a trick she really liked. Her favorite was when I'd stroke the silky bottom of her tits while I rubbed my palms on her nipples; she liked that fast but light and I had her shivering just like Rastára before long.

Our rhythm finally broke as Arsalin came hard, eyes shut and hums breaking down into stifled moans as she shook and tried to get my cock deeper. I couldn't last another second-

The bowyer smacked his palm and the others jumped. 

That fast, she was off me! She was sputtering and coughing, but she grabbed my hands before I could finish myself off!

Of course I was stronger, but I had no leverage, so she kept me pinned while she caught her breath. The blankets and I were soaked.

"Game... point," she gasped. "That's... twice for each of us. If you... if you come now, you lose the wager." She slowly let go of my hands and then sat up to wipe spit off her face and her black hair out of her eyes. "And you'll have to do what I want." 

She gently reached for my cock. "May I?" Her hand stopped just short. I nodded hard and groaned as her fingers slid up and down, never brushing my head. "Ohhh you're so close," she cooed, "You'd burst the moment I put you in my mouth."

I could barely focus on what she was saying. Every time I was about to nut all over her teasing hand, she'd let go. "All you have to do is get me off first. Just get between my legs and eat me out till I come in your arms. I'd let you. But you don't want to wait do you, big guy? You want me to wrap my lips around that cock and drink everything you can give me right now. It'd be so hot, spurting in my mouth and watching me try to swallow it all. I can almost taste your cum. Mmm." She licked a drop away. "You're so close to losing. Do you know what I'm gonna have you do?"

I had a lot of guesses and they all sounded great. 

"You're gonna fuck Talávan the snowreader right in his church."

That hadn't been one of them.

She didn't stop her slow stroking. "I'll bet just about anything sounds hot to you now. But this is your last chance. If you let me win, you're going to have your high priest on his knees sucking you tonight. Or maybe bend him over his altar and pound him till he drools on the cloth."

The tanner chuckled at the idea -and at Karan's glare- before loading more wood onto the fire while the charcoal burner emptied the drip-catching pan out the door and fetched the thirsty bowyer another mug. 

Rain pattered, distant thunder rumbled, and the damp logs sizzled as the others sat in embarrassed silence, but the slim tanner had no shame in walking around with a bulge in his wool tunic and the charcoal burner had nothing to hide. 

Sarasa took a swig and continued. 

It was blasphemy and weird and well, you know, gay. But she was right; it still sounded fucking hot while I was about to come.

She held me still and ready, cock by her lips while she whispered, "If you don't say anything, I'll stop. I'll let you lick me till you win and then I'll do any naughty thing you want. Or, if you'd rather fuck a guy, tell me and I'll drink every drop of your hot, salty, delicious cum right now. What'll it be, Sarasa?" She kept those black eyes on mine and sank down till I was in her mouth again- not touching, just breathing all around me.

I- look, I'm just a country boy, not some sort of holy man! Would any of you really've held out? I knew I shouldn't, but I said yes before I could think. She just flashed a wicked grin and waited till I begged, "Yes, you win! I'll fuck the priest or anyone you want, just finish me!" 

Whoah! Just like that, she closed her lips and I came hard. I was bucking around and I think I grabbed her again, but she didn't budge or look away. Just softly stroked and licked and finally swallowed with a satisfied smile.

Even when I finished, she kept suckling me softly. It felt nice -not even really in a sexy way- just relaxing and sweet as she lay between my legs and we cooled off together in the sleepy, late afternoon light.

 "You know." The bowyer looked up from the hearth as a log snapped. "That's the only reason I didn't feel like it was all a trick. I'd have been mad if she'd just told me get walking to the temple." 

So for a while we didn't say much. She had her mouth full and I was thinking while I rubbed her shoulders. 

I mean, screwing another guy sounded kinda gross now that I wasn't about to come. And the bigger thing was it had to be wrong to screw a priest since they took vows not to.

But I'd be breaking my vow if I didn't. The gods hate oathbreaking, and more importantly my dad always said a man without honor is no man at all.

And she'd been more than fair. I mean, both times she came it was basically all her, but she counted them for me. And then she'd've just let me win if I really wanted to. 

And my dad also always said you have to treat girls as good as you can because they don't get a fair shake anywhere. 

And, you know, looking down at her there maybe made me feel a little protective I guess. 

Sarasa laughed loudly, "Listen to me! Only Arsalin gets me talking mushy like this." Six ales that night had helped. 

It almost looked like she was napping with my cock in her mouth, but now and then she'd give me a little lick or lazily slide a hand down under herself. I combed her hair back for her and she stretched and made a little purring noise.

Yeah, I needed to do it. But I still didn't like the idea. 

That's when I noticed those big scars crisscrossed across her back. I must've seen them before, but I'd been pretty distracted, you know?

The fisherman's chair creaked as he shifted uneasily, but the bowyer went on. 

I asked about them and she sat up, swishing her long hair. "You should see the other guy." She yawned so wide she teared up. "Where do you think I got them?"

Now that I was looking, I saw she had other scars too. There were little white ones on her hands and her hair covered a long, thin one across her forehead. "I don't know." 

"Then you must live somewhere nice. What's this Asvan place like?"

Well I told her there wasn't much to say, but she kept asking questions and I really got into talking about it with her. The birch woods, the deer in the meadows, the washed out bridge, all the people, making bows, and the other villages where I sold them. 

The light through the... uh... I think you called it a "skylight" was going red when we heard the bell tolling six.

Arsalin stood and started throwing on her clothes. "Rise and shine, Sarasa," she sang, "We've got places to go!"

I got up, a bit confused.

"Got to get you to church before seven!"

Shadows slid over Karan's face as he sat up. "Wait, why seven?" 

Sarasa talked over the interruption. 

Yeah, by the time I pulled my pants on, I'd started to wonder why I had to be there by any particular time. I was lacing up my boots- with Arsalin dressed and antsy to go- when I realized maybe I'd got something wrong. 

See, I'd figured she just wanted me to fuck the snowreader so she could watch. It sounded like she and the king- gods, it's still crazy thinking I bedded the king's mistress. Well anyway, I thought she just wanted to watch and wanted it to be tonight because she didn't want to wait. 

But, like, if she had a particular time in mind, then maybe that wasn't it. And in that case, I kinda needed to know what I was getting into. So I sat down on the chair to show I wasn't going anywhere and just asked her, "Why do I have to screw the snowreader?"

So she looked mad for a second but then she sighed, "To keep your word. And if that's not enough," she smacked a hand on her hip, "If you do it till after eight, I'll let you fuck my ass. Ever done that with Tarasha or Vashala?"

Well holy shit. None of the girls back home would try that. If I hadn't been decided already, I would've been.

"Good. Now let's go," she waved for me to get up.

I did, but then I realized I hadn't asked the question right. She thought I was trying to get out of what I promised, when I was asking... wait, I think I'm getting mixed up. Ok, I was trying to ask why she wanted me to fuck the snowreader. But she thought I meant I didn't want to do it. I think. 

For some reason, I really wanted her to know I hadn't been trying to weasel out of our deal. Even if it meant I wouldn't get to try her ass afterall. "I meant to ask, 'Why do you want me to screw the snowreader?' "

After a second she got it and winked. "I'll tell you afterwards."

Well I asked again.

We both crossed our arms and glared at each other till we laughed. "Look, big guy." She walked back across the room and put a hand on my arm. Her fingers were calloused, but light and feathery too. "Either you trust me or it was pretty dumb to put anything you're fond of between these pearly-whites."

I didn't budge when she tugged on me. "But why can't you tell me?"

She even shrugged hot. "Palace politics."

Ah, so maybe some plot to embarrass the snowreader? It didn't make much sense to me, but I kinda did trust her. Even though she was pretty sly. 

"Here's my best offer." She stood up on her tiptoes and pulled me down to whisper in my ear, "I'll tell you all about why it's a good thing after you've pumped my ass full of your hot cum. And in the morning I'll see if I can persuade Saválas to build you folks in Asvan a stone bridge with your name on it."

Shit, that sounded perfect. And if the king wasn't gonna be angry or anything, that settled it. We went out.

The corridor was smoky and stifling already, but servants were lighting more torches. Arsalin nodded to one as we hurried by, "Varstala, would you please change the sheets and let it air out?" Whoever he was, he hopped to it. In fact, I think he had a bunch of blankets and sheets waiting already.

The heights of Mount Tandrásas were east and that's where the temple would be, so I figured that's why we were going that way. I was wrong though. We came to an even fancier bit of the castle with pine torches and big tapestries of hunting or the three gods making Davasan. Arsalin pulled out a key in front of an engraved door and had me wait outside her rooms.

I didn't belong in a place like that. I mean, even the servants going by wore silk and perfume. And me all ragged and sweaty with my hair like a rat's nest and wine on my breath. At least I didn't smell like cum since she'd drunk it all. I suddenly wondered if the snowreader did that. 

Arsalin came back out quick carrying bundles of clothes and shit as high as her face. I was still trying to figure out what the half I took were when we got back near the throne room. 

There- wait. I told you she had the sword right? When I met her? Not when she came to my room. Didn't have the jewelry then either, come to think of it. Well I saw it in her rooms before she closed the door. She had it half out of this big, fancy, leather scabbard leaning on the wall. But I mean actually it wasn't that big. Like I thought it was since she had it on her back outside and it looked big on her, but she was just small. It wasn't even a good sword either; it was all covered in rust. All her other stuff looked pretty new and she'd taken good care of the knife I saw later. I just thought it was weird is all.

This time everyone looked puzzled. The bowyer wet his lips and resumed. 

Yeah, so I knew it was near the throne room since that shiny white marble was everywhere again. Arsalin hands me her bundle and knocks on this huge, black double door. Maybe it was made of ebony, I don't know. 

Well these royal guards open it and she's like, "He's with me." But they went for their swords!

Then this big, deep voice goes, "Let them in." Just like that, they pull me in and shut the door.

Sarasa looked around at the others, "You know, some of this stuff might be what I think they call a 'state secret.' " 

Karan shrugged his fur-trimmed cloak back over his shoulder. "Don't worry. The Signore thinks it's important to figure this all out too." He turned to the fisherman then the bowyer, "Both your kings agree-."

 "Oh, I was gonna tell you anyway. I don't plan to go back for quite a while," Sarasa interrupted. 

So it's some kind of meeting room and the steward is looking over at us. There's a bunch of other guys around the table with maps and parchments and shit. A lot of them were at the big thing in the throne room earlier, but some of the others looked like servants or... I think they're called "ajudents."




The Bowyer's Tale



 "Adjutants," Karan suggested. 

Right. Well a bunch of bigwigs, all grim. I... kinda hid behind the stuff I was carrying when I saw them staring at me.

"How bad is it?" Arsalin had this hard, stern voice for talking to them.

A fork-bearded man in mail -one of the southern types- slapped the table and spilled an inkpot, "Terrible!"

"Only one more arrived after noon," the steward said. "The lines are drawn."

"So one off at the most?" Arsalin looked down the table.

The steward grimaced. "Two. My dear brother said a tie is not acceptable."

Arsalin cracked her knuckles and I could hear she was smiling. "Tell your brother that the earlier he starts, the earlier he can get to bed."

That got them whispering. The steward shuffled some parchments into a stack and watched me, "On the hour then. You've made some kind of arrangement?"

"I'm working on it. Don't lose anyone." I was glad to leave with her.

I waited to ask what the hell was going on till we reached the stairs to the cellar.

She glanced out a narrow, fortress window. "Later. Remember the deal."

She led me to a shadowy bath hall next. It was mostly empty, though water was steaming in two of the huge cauldrons. I don't think it was actually the same room as before; there were a few around.

A couple of servants were cleaning the rough floors. Arsalin called the older one, "Hey, Sadasa! Could you get us some towels and half an hour alone?" She put an arm around my waist, "Got some business to attend to."

"Oh, Arsalin!" He looked at her slyly. "I sure could. Could you-"

She wagged a finger. "You already owe me a favor. But if you hop to it, I'll make sure you owe me two by sundown tomorrow."

Sadasa turned to the boy who'd been helping him, "Let's go, we'll come back later." 

He hurried out, but the kid stopped and asked, "Do you know how to work the water, lady?"

"I should hope so after two moons!" She tossed him a bronze Davasmark, "Thanks for asking though, kid."

Sadasa came back with a big pile of towels and soaps and bottles of strange liquids, then the doors thudded as they left. 

By the fiery glow from under the two cauldrons, Arsalin and I looked over the odd set of sluice gates, stone trenches, and wooden chutes that filled and emptied the baths. It was sorta like an irrigation system. You pulled levers or ropes to open little sluices or tip the pots of icy or boiling water, so you could fill any pool as deep and as hot or cold as you wanted. Or you could scald yourself if you used the wrong ones.

Arsalin hauled up and down on a pull-rope. "See that lever at the trench corner over there? Could you handle that while I work this?" 

I pulled and heard a splash and a shriek! 

Shit! 

I ran to her, but she was laughing. Gods, I'm glad it'd been cold water that sloshed over the chute and drenched her.

"Wrong one, dummy!" Arsalin giggled. "Brrr!" I helped unbutton her wet dress and she threw it off. "Alright, I'll handle the levers. Get your clothes off and get in that pool."

My boots clanked on the gleaming brass drain cover and I sat to take them off and set them behind me. So I had my shirt stuck over my head when there's a huge splash and I get hit with a flood of ice water!

"Vengeance is mine!" I laughed too. Sometimes she kinda reminded me of my little sis. When she wasn't being all dead serious like with the steward I mean. 

I lay back and told Arsalin how the pool felt while she pulled ropes and levers to fill it up warm. There was just enough light to watch the muscles of her graceful body ripple. You couldn't see the little sags and wrinkles or the gray hairs till she got close. They only made her sexier anyway. A real woman, not just a girl.

She sat down with me and I gasped as she reached in and found me hard from watching her. "Mmm, I almost think you just doused me to get my clothes off faster. Talávan won't know what hit him." Her little tits were on display as she reached back for soap and cloth. "Now hold still."

Sploosh! Big bucket of water over my head! We were laughing again when she started scrubbing my back. No one had bathed me since I was a kid, and having hot water was new too. Well except for earlier that day I mean. Both were pretty nice.

She was singing something while she washed us. I didn't know the tongue, but it sounded kinda sad. Her voice was good though.

When the song was over, she soaped up her chest and then leaned against my back. "You feel so tense." I felt her warm, silky breasts slide up and down as she washed me with them. "It's almost like you don't like bathing with me."

"No, this is great. I just... fucking another guy?"

She smiled and slunk around me into the pool, "Mind if I taste you again?"

I shook my head, so she took a breath and slid under the suds and dark water. A pull on my ankles told me to scoot another step deeper, then she had me in her mouth again. I couldn't see her, but damn it felt good. She licked all over and even sucked me into her throat again before splashing out.

Arsalin gasped and wiped her hair off her face. "How was that?" 

"Fucking great," I gasped a little too. It was different getting blown underwater. Maybe even better.

"Even though you couldn't see me?" She started washing my knees with the cloth.

"Well yeah, I mean-"

"Well the snowreader will feel like that too. Maybe not quite as good. I am something of a master of my craft," she winked.

There was no denying that. 

"So just enjoy it. Picture me if you want. But keep him busy till eight." She scrubbed and talked quicker, "You're just the big, brawny, young type he likes. Like Asdan. You need to make sure he sees that without being too forward. Have him make the first move if you can, but make damned sure a move is made. Before seven! You following me?"

I was mostly just nodding along. Particularly right then since she'd sat back to wash between her legs.

She rubbed something flowery from one of the bottles into my hair. "It sounds like you're popular with the ladies back home- here, duck under the water." My hair came up clean. "So do what you do in Asvan. But there are pilgrims who come to this mountain, right? Act like one of them. You want his guidance. Get him real close and get talking. Work him into it. Seduce him. I doubt it'll be difficult. Asdan hasn't bedded him in weeks."

The tanner laughed, but waved for Sarasa to go on. 

Well the more she talked about it, the more I felt like I could do it. I mean, I really was good at getting girls interested back in Savásias.

It couldn't even be half-past six, but Arsalin washed her hair quick and threw me a bunch of towels before grabbing torches from the walls. "Light! We need light." Her wet feet slapped on the floor as she took them to the heating fire to kindle. 

The charcoal burner shifted another damp log onto their own fire as the thunder came closer again. 

She sifted through the piles of men's and women's clothes by the new light. It was hard not to reach down and give her bare shoulders a rub.

"Here!" She handed back a pair of drawers, talking almost too fast to follow, "No, wait. No smallclothes. It'll be easier for him to see when you get hard. And less time for him to think after you start undressing." She went through another bundle. "I think white, wool breeches. That's normal here, right?"

"Right?" I managed. I'd never worn anything so short myself. 

"Yeah these ones will do. Slip them on." They were baggy but they fit. "No stockings. Let him see those nice calves. The brown socks I think."

"No brown if I'm supposed to be a pilgrim," I tried to explain, "Blue, white, and yellow. Sky, snow, and sun."

"Ah, here's white then. I don't have much blue. Except this surcoat. Is all white alright?"

Asvan didn't have its own priest, so honestly I wasn't clear on the finer points of theolory myself. Theolagy? Thea... Religion. "Well... maybe if I was just devoted to Bastrava?"

"That's the snow god, right? So that's perfect, isn't it?" I wasn't sure, but she handed me a white shirt so small it almost left my arms and abs bare. "Perfect!" Next was a summer cloak that was more a pale gray than white. "Wear this back like it's too hot. Let him see those muscles." She ran her fingers over them, then held up a little jar of something oily. "And I'm putting this in your left belt pouch."

"What's-"

"When Talávan wants you in his ass, slather both of you up with that stuff or you'll hurt him. Whatever you think is enough is not enough. Use twice that much. Now get your boots on while I comb your hair." I hadn't come in the pool, so it was hard to focus on the laces with her naked behind me.

She smiled and held up her mirror for me, "Looking good, big guy. Talávan is a lucky man!" I really did look even better than usual. The neatly messy hair was a nice touch.

Arsalin pounced on the other clothes stack. "The 'Just-stopping-by-fresh-from-the-baths' look for me, I think." She belted on a little red robe and nothing else, "Ugh, I don't want to walk around this place barefoot, but he'll like that." She shook her wet hair back. "Ready? This way!" Her feet pattered in the corridors. Outside the sun was setting. "Can you find the way from here?"

I was always lost in that huge place.

"Damn. Well I think I can still make it." She led me east and the decorations got fancier again till we came to one last, long hallway. The windows were glassless to let in the red sky and there were loads of them, so it was cool and bright for a change. Out them I could see this was some sort of natural bridge over a chasm behind the rest of the castle.

"Alright," Arsalin talked fast, "Temple's at the end of the corridor. He's sent away all the guards so he can pray alone in there before- well, he'll be alone. Don't let him turn you away. Just barge in, ask pilgrim questions, and pour on the sexy like you would back home. Try to make it seem natural. Try to get him going by seven. Keep him till eight. Oh! And Asdan says Talávan likes to be pushed around in bed. Maybe you can use that."

It was too much too fast. And even after three goblets of wine I could hardly fucking believe what I was gonna do.

Arsalin looked up at me. "Hey, don't worry, big guy." She put my hands on her toned butt and wriggled. "Mmm. Just remember your motivation." I felt her fix up my hair and then pull me down to kiss my cheek. "Make me proud, my young apprentice." She hurried out and I made my way down the hall.

So the temple door was huge. Like 20 feet high. I checked if light was coming from under it, but the passageway was too bright for me to tell.

You know, somehow just throwing the door open sounded better than knocking. Knocking would be like saying I knew I shouldn't be there. It looked really heavy, so I gave it a hard shove.

Whoah! I almost fell down the stairs just inside, but I caught myself on a bronze statue. The door was unlocked and really light on its hinges.

Looking around, it wasn't much like the churches and such in Savásias. Dark for one thing, only the middle of the big, long room was open to the sky. And it looked tricky to get around with all the steps down from the rim to the middle and the drainage trenches and stone pews everywhere.

After my eyes adjusted, I saw there were tall, stained glass windows in nooks along the walls -little chapels maybe. But not much light got in since they were blocked by giant, bronze statues of Bastrava, Avsava, and Salárava. Added later I bet. We didn't have statues or icons back home. Dad always said the sky's plain to see, so there's no point pretending Avsava looks like a man instead.

It seemed empty, so I figured the snowreader was gone. I almost felt disappointed. Just because I'd be letting Arsalin down if he was, I mean. That's why I kept looking around.

I really felt like I didn't belong there. Crazy, right? I mean, maybe I'm not so holy, but they were still my gods and my father's gods and his father's gods and all. So it was my temple too. But it wasn't like the family shrine or the churches back home. No, it was dark, dusty, smoky, closed-in, and full of shit that looked too fancy to touch. Like the rest of the castle.

Actually, I think I kinda wanted to go in further because I didn't belong there.

 "It's like... walking on a frozen pond," Sarasa tried to explain. "Wait, do they get cold enough to freeze where you're from?" 

Karan tapped the side of his chair, "Lake Figo and Corcosa sometimes froze clear across." 

 "I was a boy, but I remember even the sea did in the Black Winter of '25," the fisherman told the fire. "I've never been south of the capital, but it must be like your Savásias." 

 "Wait, aren't we south of Sindirn now?" The tanner tried to sketch a map on the sod floor, but gave up. He turned to the charcoal burner. "The snow never melts in the south of Veirandr, but in Isva we hear that north of the Wide Waste are the brown Hijez Mountains and beyond are lands that know no winter. 

He had to repeat it before the old man could confirm, "I saw my... first... snow here." 

The tanner asked his next question in Zhendrian before translating it to Taldrish for the others, "We hear many things in Isva, not all true. Some of you men from beyond the waste say that it's cool again even farther north." 

The charcoal burner's long, white beard swished as he shook his head, "The... jungles never end." 

Sarasa actually waited for them to finish while he took a long draught, "Well... I guess I was trying to say sometimes you go walking on a frozen pond. And it's like you almost want it to crack just to hear the huge snap." 

The others looked at him blankly. 

 "Oh come on, I'm not the only one. Well I'm saying going into the temple felt like that. I didn't want the ice to break, but I knew it would if I went further, so somehow I just had to do it. You know?" He'd lost his train of thought and eventually shrugged and skipped ahead. "Look, the important thing is I went in." 

Sure enough, the statues were blocking up little chapels, but there was room to look past some. The sunset and colored glass made it hard, but what a view! I could see past the chasm and the shadowy castle and way down into the pass. There were so many lights down there. Like red stars. I mean, I'd heard Vanávas was big, but it couldn't be that huge!

 "I read it's the biggest city in the whole world!'" the equerry nearly spilled ale on his velvet tunic. "They call it the 'Rose of the Bastravalas.' The Signore says Raim is bigger though." 

 "I never knew," Sarasa breathed. "Someday I've got to see it right, not just from a window." 

Anyway, after a bit I followed an odd draft up front and saw the three great altars I'd heard of all my life. Alabaster for Bastrava with the divining snow bowl on top of it, Lapus... Lapiz... that blue rock for Avsava, and gold for Salárava. Well I think it was gold. And either it was a trick of the light or it was glowing! I took a closer look.

What I thought were dark stripes were actually rows of tiny carvings. The other altars had them too, but the gold one actually had two layers! You could juuust see through the gaps between people and scenery in the foreground to another set of scenes in the back! And inside there were tiny candles- real beeswax, not just tallow- so the whole thing glowed. No idea how they got the candles in and out.

 "Tiny, gold tweezers," Karan blurted. "You mean anyone can just walk in and see Lasara's Altar?" 

 "What? No, the altar's to Salárava. The sun." Sarasa scratched his head. "Wait, is that what you call him in the Republics?" 

 "No, we don't worship your gods in the League," the tanner explained. "Lasara's the goldsmith who made the altar." 

The equerry nodded eagerly. "That altar is eighth in Gorai's 'Ten Great Triumphs of the Hands of Man.' " 

The tanner snorted. "Detailed but secondhand at best. He certainly never went to Isva or he'd have known-"

 "Shit, the altar's one of them?" The bowyer frowned. "It was pretty amazing, but I wouldn't have gone a thousand miles to see it." 

The tanner ignored Sarasa. "Sorry, Karan, I forgot Gorai was a Daraigath too. It's not a bad book." He turned back to the bowyer. "I know a man who said some of them are well worth the trip. Everyone should see the Brass Fountain and the Flametower- though they weren't really made by man." Karan grudgingly held his peace and let him go on. "You'd love our fountain, Sarasa," the tanner tried out the name. "But even I'll concede that there's no beating the Great Bridge of Raim for grandeur." He grinned fiendishly. "On with the story! I want to hear how much fun your priests are before I decide if I should check out that temple myself." 

Uh... right. So I'm looking at the altar when I hear something behind me. I turn around casual and I'm like, "Hello."

And the guy who'd been lying on the stone bench snorts and wakes up. Oh.

I didn't recognize the snowreader right off, but his tricolor silk robe and scarf gave it away.

He was maybe forty, but bleary eyes and the bald patch in his graying hair made him look older. Kinda scruffily unshaven and fat. Like potbellied I mean.

So he sits up and blinks at me. He had sorta a fat, wrinkly face. But browned from lots of sun, not like most of the nobles I'd seen that day.

I knew I was safe when he jumped up and fixed his half-open robes. It's like when you run into a bear in the woods. It's scary as fuck till it spooks and runs, then you know it was scareder of you.

None of the others hurried to admit they had never personally scared off a bear. 

He was short too. Like shorter than some of you guys even. Anyway, I still didn't really think anything was gonna happen between us, you know? I mean, he was the high priest. But I knew I had to start talking before he kicked me out and I figured I could pretend I didn't know who he was.

 "Clever," the tanner agreed. "Making him choose between losing the authority or the dignity of his office." 

 "Oh, I hadn't thought of that," Sarasa said, "I just thought maybe I'd get in less trouble if I didn't know he was so important. 

So I'm like, "Evening! I was hoping to meet another pilgrim!" And I sat down so he'd have to too.

Up close, I could see his eyes were really bloodshot. Maybe being snowreader was harder than I thought. Or maybe he'd been drinking as well as dozing; I did smell something on his breath.

He floundered while I chattered about what a long trip it was to get here and how excited I was to see the great temple.

Arsalin just had to be wrong. Maybe the steward was lying; it sounded like he hated the snowreader. But I just had to take another step and see if the ice would crack this time, you know?

So I gave it a try. For starters, I talked quiet so he'd have to lean close and never looked away.

Normally I'd have mostly asked him about himself, but that was no good since I didn't want him saying he was the snowreader. I skipped to talking about home, bowmaking, and battles. Honestly, there's still not much to tell about those and there was less then. Mostly we just shot arrows into brush and heard the pirates scream. And now I mainly tell my men to shoot fast at the enemy. You'd have to be a shitty archer to even get a chance to do anything worth talking about. But I made it sound better.

So yeah, I had his attention, but seven was coming. I had to pick up the pace.

I leaned back with my arms on the back of the pew and looked at the violet sky while I talked. In that too-small shirt, that meant he could see my abs. And he didn't look away! No, he checked me out!




The Bowyer's Tale



I mean, holy shit. The pond was cracking. Most girls back home were sneakier than him- if they were even interested. For every wench I bedded there were plenty who already had a man, didn't want one, or just didn't want me in particular. 

The benches were uncomfortable, so it was easy to shift till I had my right arm behind his head. He didn't get up or anything. Hell, I don't think he'd really figured me out yet.

I hadn't really figured me out yet either. He wasn't hot at all, but somehow the idea of fucking him was starting to be. It was so wrong- but it was even wronger for him, which sorta made it feel ok.

So yeah, once I was done shifting us, I shifted the talk a bit. Still about home, but not stuff I'd say in front of a priest. Not like I talk with you guys of course, just a few lines about how hot a girl was or hints that I'd fucked a bunch. Adding an edge to the chatter.

It was weirdly nice how he hung on every word. This was going too well.

Ow! I slid my hand on the pew's back and suddenly it hurt like hell. I'd cut it open grabbing the statue!

He saw me wince and I was sure I'd missed my chance, but then I had a crazy idea.

I leaped up and let him see my hand. It was a shallow cut, so I hadn't even felt it with my heart pounding earlier, but it was pretty bloody. "Damn! Thought that was healed over!"

"Are you hurt?" He had kinda a squeaky voice and he jumped up to try to have a look.

"A cut from one of those pirates," I tried to sound like it really hurt, "Never healed right. Might've been poisoned." The more bullshit I slathered on, the more he bought it. I let him grab my hand and gasped, "Could you bind it for me? It's bleeding again!"

He looked around wildly, but I ripped off my cloak and tore it to scraps for him. I held my cut hand down low and he just knelt to bandage it without thinking.

Holy shit again. I was half-naked –with no smallclothes even- and the godsdamned snowreader was on his knees in front of me. I mean, I'd been naked with other guys to swim and such, but this was totally different. 

I could've just let him finish and then gone on my way. But no, I had to see how far I could push this. And, honestly, I was feeling good about how easy it had all been. It's like... most men can get a woman to fuck them, but how many are hot enough that they could have guys too if they wanted?

When he'd nearly finished, I shifted my hand to be right in front of my crotch. I was looking away, but I felt him freeze. I thought about Arsalin and how sexy it was when she was the one down there. He must've seen me getting hard. But he didn't stand up.

Finally I looked down and our eyes met. I was sure that was it. He was gonna splutter and stand up and run away. 

But he didn't. He fidgeted, but I put my hands on his shoulders and that settled him down. He licked his lips nervously and watched the bulge in my white pants while I finished tying the bandage myself. From there it just seemed natural to slide my breeches off. Remembering Arsalin, I did it slow so he had time to realize he was choosing to stay there.

With a bounce, my cock was free and inches from his face. His eyes went wide watching it while I pulled off the tight shirt and tied all my clothes out of the way around my arms. 

He was leaning toward me.

Karan shifted uncomfortably, but the tanner signed him to let Sarasa tell his story. 

He'd had his chance and passed it up. Now I had my last one. The hallway was empty; I could run out and put my clothes back on and go. But I didn't. I'd never have believed I'd do this the day before. Well what can I say? I could say it was the wine or being horny from Arsalin not finishing me in the baths or her promised reward or not wanting to break my promise or how forbidden it was. Or I could say I thought about how I was always asking girls back home to try new stuff and sometimes they really liked it. Or maybe I just wanted to see if the church really was a sham. I guess it was all that stuff, but I took that last step and slid my cock between his open lips. And the ice shattered like I'd sorta known it would.

The snowreader skipped right to sucking eagerly with a cross-eyed look of total focus. It would've been fucking hot if he was a girl. And he was a lot better than any of them back home. I felt his tongue all over even while he kept bobbing up and down. My cock was in heaven, though the rest of me was still kinda skeeved out.

It just looked wrong to see chest hair and no tits on someone blowing me. But Arsalin was right. If I looked up, I could almost picture it was Valiasa there, though he wasn't slobbering or slurping the way she would. I relaxed and just focused on how good it felt. And tried not to worry about someone walking in on us. Up above, the stars were coming out in the darkening sky.

I realized I had my hands in his hair and he seemed to like it. Arsalin'd said he wanted to be pushed around, so I got firmer and firmer till I was pulling him up and down my cock. Judging by his happy gurgles, he liked that even more. So did I actually. It felt right to be back to taking charge.

I was just getting into it when I heard the bell ringing faintly. Shit! I had a feeling it'd be hard to keep him busy till eight if he heard. Without really thinking, I clamped my hands over his ears. Maybe he'd think I was just changing my grip.

That's when I heard voices. Shit, shit, shit! I'd lost track of the chimes; he might hear if I took my hands off him. And where the hell could I go? I was naked and they were coming from the way out.

Was that seven rings? No more time, but I had an idea. So I haul him up and hiss, "Someone's coming!"

He spooked and tried to bolt, but I hustled him toward the wall as the huge door opened. Like I thought, there was enough space to squeeze in behind some of the big statues. I pushed him in one and we crowded out of sight.

Well he was out of sight. I couldn't quite fit all the way back too, so they'd see me by its bronze leg if they looked right at me. I... uh... prayed they wouldn't.

I could hear them coming closer. Two men talking loud. One said something like, "Oh I do hope he didn't fall asleep again." You know, talking kinda prissy. 

When the snowreader moved, I realized they meant the snowreader. I held him still while the priests went by. Snowcatchers I think. One glanced my way, but it was brighter out there, so he didn't see me. The snowreader finally realized he couldn't just come stumbling out with them there and stopped struggling.

The other priest had a deeper voice. "Excellency? Excellency, are you in here? It's seven."

That's when I got a really wicked idea. Watching the two of them, I pulled the snowreader back onto my cock. He made a little startled sputter but he didn't try to get away or anything. 

This shit was fucking nuts. I mean I was in the great temple, squeezed up against a statue of Avsava, making the snowreader himself suck me with two of his priests right there looking for him.

It was crazier when he sped up and tried to squeeze me into his tight throat. He put a hand on me to try to stroke when he was pulling back, but his fingers felt wrong and I smacked them away.

I didn't like his bristly chin on my balls either, but it was worth it for the feeling of being in his hot mouth to the hilt.

The priests turned to go. "Good, he must have already left." 

He went faster as the door shut. I looked down at him. "Well, snowreader," I could almost see him realize I knew, "Is anyone else gonna come in here?"

He tried to pull back to answer but I held him down. The rougher I was, the more he seemed to like it. He got the idea and shook his head. Felt great.

"No one else?"

He nodded, so I pulled him back to the altar area and he kept going. He tried to reach a hand into his robes, but I knocked it away. I did not want to watch him jerking off. And I was worried he might want to leave after he came. I wasn't even really close myself and he seemed to be getting frustrated.

I couldn't believe what I was saying, but I pulled him deeper till he was licking my balls and growled, "Nod if you want this cock in your ass, snowreader."

He nodded hard and scrambled up when I let go. "Oil!" He squeaked, "I'll get some oil!"

He was rummaging in a little cupboard past the altars before I remembered the bottle Arsalin gave me. I admit I shivered a little when I realized he was coming back with the holy oil for lighting the altar fires. It was a whole new kind of sacrilege somehow.

 "So I- I mean I can't believe I did this," Sarasa broke off with a wince. 

Karan looked relieved; the charcoal burner and the fisherman were as inscrutable as ever. 

The tanner, oddly serious, responded first. "If it's not important, you don't have to share it. But the decisive battle with the blackguard is coming. We could all be dead tomorrow or the day after." 

Karan hesitantly added, "I didn't want to tell anyone. But I'm glad I did. I'm not afraid to die if I have to now that someone knows about my life." 

 "Yeah, but that was just boring shit. Sorry. I just mean it's different. You didn't do anything wrong. I helped a man break an oath, blasphemed, and well... was kinda an asshole. And shit." 

 "No surprise there," the tanner muttered. 

The charcoal burner said something in Zhendrian and the tanner translated. "I think it's a western proverb. 'Stains on the conscience wash out with words, not water.' Or something like that." 

Karan resigned himself. "If you telling us will help you, tell us. We won't judge." 

 "Or interrupt and tell you to stop rambling. Like you did to Karan." the tanner added. 

Sarasa glared at him, but returned to the story after a long pause and another sip. 

I... well, I took the bottle and pushed him to the ground. I'd like to blame the wine, but ... uh... I told him to ... kneel before me and kiss my feet. The worst part was he actually did it.

Well... I put a foot on his shoulder to tell him to stay down and then walked around to pull up his robe and rip off his white drawers. His wasn't hot like a girl's butt, really. Hairy and flabby and wrinkled. The wrongness was what made it hot, not him.

I unstoppered the bottle and dribbled the spicy-scented oil on both of us. He started sliding back against me till he was lined up right. 

I tried to push in just a bit and he yelped then gasped, "More!" I thought he was cracked wanting more if it hurt, but then he said, "More oil!" Arsalin was right; I should've used twice as much.

I poured some on his hand and tried again when he was done putting it on. I figured if I treated it like a girl's first time, it wouldn't hurt him. Though usually I'd have started a girl off by licking her senseless. Anyway, he was a lot slipperier and I went slower and that made all the difference.

He made these squeaky groans when I slid in. I stopped since I thought I'd hurt him, but he kept pushing back. I told him to shut up and he stuffed a hand in his mouth. Gods, he just did whatever I said. 

I was focused on not hurting the guy, so it wasn't till I'd bottomed out with a couple of inches to go that I felt how hot and tight he was. And it was just a bit different than being in a girl's pussy. 

Wasn't sure if I was supposed to thrust the same way, but I started slowly and went faster when it felt good. By the time I was up to speed, I was close to coming. It was a weak showing for me, but he'd reached a hand down to stroke himself and he was groaning like I was doing great. Kept calling me Asdan and begging me to fill his ass. Now that was a turn-on. Not being able to finish inside a girl unless we'd been to market and bought some lordlace root always felt incomplete.

I grabbed his hips and pounded him hard as I came. It wasn't till my first spurt that I realized I still had half an hour till eight. Damn, too late. He was jerking himself faster, but like hell I was gonna get this far and then spoil things halfway through. I pinned him down with my head right by his ear and told him, "I'm not Asdan. If you want me to fuck this ass again, you don't come till I say to."

He must've been close since he almost didn't stop, but he told me he was sorry. Crazy.

And I was crazier. I never even really gave orders to the men in my contingent, but there I was lording it over the snowreader himself. "Tell me how much you love my cock!"

And he went along with it like it was normal. Like he wanted it even. "More than anything!"

Sarasa frowned and stopped, but the tanner – and the ale- encouraged him on. 

I was starting to go soft, but I had him pinned and kept growling in his ear. "More than the gods?"

"Yes," he blubbered, suddenly crying, "More than them. I'm a wretch! A filthy little wretch!"

I mean... what do you even say to that? I couldn't just fucking say it was alright. He was the high priest of my father's gods and he'd just said he'd rather break his oaths than uphold the faith. It should've been disgusting. I'd have punched anyone who said he was like that the day before. They'd have lost fucking teeth.

But I'd seduced him. As part of a scheme I didn't understand for a woman I'd just met who screwed serving girls while my king watched. And there were statues in the temple that blocked out the sky! The heart of Davasan -right on the sacred mountain- was rotten like an old stump. Was the whole kingdom? Was the whole world? Was everything I thought I knew wrong?

I needed air. "Lead me outside. Crawl." Gods, we both got hot when I made him do shit like that.

There was a door out where I'd felt a draft before, sorta hidden since the passage to it was behind the wall. It wasn't hidden hidden, just you could only see it from one angle. Ugh, it's simple but I can't explain it right.

Anyway, a cold, mountain wind was blowing in. He looked through and then led me out to this big stone terrace. It had been swept clean, but there was snow on the ground past the railing. 

The second half of Mount Tandrásas stood against the stars and I could see the lights of another stone building nestled behind one of its crags. Maybe the shrine where the snowcatchers worked before the snowreader carried the bowl down here to make his pronouncements. Someday I'm going up there.

I cooled off fast and we went back in. I kinda wanted to shut the door so we'd have a warning if a priest came down the mountain, but the snowreader didn't seem to think that'd happen and the breeze would be nice when we got started again.

He saw I was about ready and I'll bet he'd have been jerking himself again if he didn't need his hands to crawl. I told him to bend over the altar and he scrambled up and waited.

That time I started faster. He just squealed he wanted it harder and harder till I doubt he could've held himself up if he wasn't facedown on that alabaster block. I'd come so many times earlier that I could just keep going and going easy. 

I told him to say all kinds of shit, but honestly I don't remember it now. I wasn't really thinking, just trying to pound him till that clock rang eight. But I know I put the silver divination bowl on the ground and had him lick the snowmelt out of it while I fucked him. That was when I knew I was just done with this shit. With everything. I mean, that was the bowl. That was the same bowl they used to tell all of us back home when the gods said to harvest and everything. And he was lapping it like a hound.

Sarasa punched his other hand. 

Everything they told us was just fucking bullshit. That wasn't my temple, he wasn't my snowreader, those statues of theirs weren't my gods, and fuck it, I was getting out of there. Out of the whole country. Not that day, but I had to see what the world was really like. Arsalin had been around; she knew. I hadn't believed her when she said the snowreader was like this. But she showed me how things really were.

Well I was finally getting close when I heard the bell ringing between his squeals and the clatters of the bowl on the floor. I didn't want to spend another minute with the little shit. "Now's your chance, priest," I snarled. He'd been stroking himself now that he wasn't pinned on the altar. "Hear that bell? I'm finished when it is." 

He froze just a second, maybe realizing what the bell meant, then sped up as I came inside him again. I just grabbed his ass and shot my load as deep as I could. It felt like saying "Fuck you" to him and all the other priests and the castle and everything all at once- sorta like why Arsalin said the steward fucked him I guess. And it felt good to be done with him and just knock him down and leave.

Crazy fucker must've loved that too since he came hard all over the floor. He begged me to come back, but I never saw him again and good fucking riddance.

I hardly remember getting out of there, but I think I ran. I threw my clothes back on in the first storeroom off the hall. I really needed to wash up. Luckily, there weren't many people in the corridors and I hid around corners from most of those till I finally found my way back to the baths.

I was in luck again; the servants hadn't actually come back to drain the pool and the room was empty. All the clothes and soaps and stuff were still there. Good thing too; I'd never felt filthier.

All of that just melted away once I was in the warm water. The air still had that flowery smell that Arsalin's hair did. After I'd soaked a bit, I checked through the bottles for the one that smelled like that and tried it out.

 "I was feeling better, but still really tired," Sarasa yawned just thinking about it. 

I must've asked someone the way back to my room. And brought all the clothes and shit along since I woke up in some of the spare ones. 

It was dark and something was wrong. The sheets were over my head for one thing. Sleeping in a real bed for the first time was fucking weird. I got free of them just in time to see Arsalin shedding her robe and setting down a candle.

She said something like, "Shush itsh me." Then she fell on the creaking bed as I got up and asked what she was doing there. I was way too tired to think. Or see in the dark. I tripped over the chair on the way to find my own candles.

Arsalin giggled. "Promish t'keep. You didit! Never shaw the priesht." She lay back. "He never shaw? The... king never shaw. Not me. Never shaw me?" 

I felt like three weeks of hard marching with no rest at the end and she wasn't making any sense. Really I only figured out what she said later. "The king never saw you?" I stumbled back to her.

"Of coursh he did!" She smacked my arm. "Ashif that ashhol Barakva washn't enough! Ugh, I'm gonnabe shore tomorrow."

I finally realized she was drunk. Then that she'd come back because she'd promised I could fuck her ass. I suddenly didn't care who Barakva was; my clothes joined hers on the floor and I joined her on the bed. She tried to roll me on my back the same time I tried to kiss her and we banged heads. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, that hurtsh!" She rocked back and forth, holding her head. "Watch what you're... hey, you don't look sho good!"

With my eyes red, my hand bandaged, and the sheets tangled around me, I must've been quite a sight even by candlelight. I sure felt like one. Just then I remembered something she'd said, so I laughed and repeated, "You should see the other guy!"

I didn't realize it for a second, but suddenly Arsalin was crying. She kept saying something about "Lion's hearth" or maybe "Lie on shirt." I never found out.

 "Lionheart." The tanner was little less confused. "She knows a man called 'Lionheart.' I saw him-"




The Bowyer's Tale



Neither of us was tall, but we still had to duck up there. She sat comfortably on my mess of pillows and blankets and beckoned me down beside her. I just followed her lead as we lit a few more candles.

Arsalin's face was in shadow, but I could see her lips were bent into a warm, self-confident grin. It was different from the way Vaiker grinned when he was making his jokes. His smile was asking you to please smile too. She was smiling just for herself.

The others nodded and no one interrupted him now. 

You know, I never really saw her properly. It was always night or candlelight indoors. But I'm sure, absolutely sure, that I'd know her if I met her again. She carried herself differently.

As I was sitting there, looking at her proud shoulders and how her breasts bobbed under her red dress, I realized that that's why she was so beautiful. Not her breasts, I mean. Well not just them. I mean she was so confident. She loved herself, so how could you not love her? She knew what she wanted and she would get it or do it or say it, and that was a kind of strength I'd never had. I wanted it even more than I wanted her right then. And when she leaned closer, it was like her strength was flowing into me; for the first time in my life I wasn't afraid of what anyone else would say. I'll never forget how that felt.

Our lips met in the middle and I'll never forget that either. My breath stank and so did hers, but I didn't want to break that kiss for anything. I embraced her with one hand and felt out the lovely contours of her face with the other, touching her soft cheeks and smooth chin and running my fingers through her long, luxurious hair. It smelled like some kind of flower. I tugged a strand to my nose and breathed in the sweet scent. It must have tickled her nose next to mine since she sneezed and then giggled. I sat back and laughed too, both of us quiet. The horses down below were the only ones around, but there's something about being in the dark that makes one want to be silent.

She nimbly undid the laces of her dress; I only got in the way when I tried to help. I took my tunic off instead. 

And then our arms were tangled, exploring each other's chests as we kissed again. I was still more slim than muscular, but she seemed to like what she found anyway. Her cool hands sent thrills through me as they slid over every bump of rib or muscle.

Even after hearing what Vaiker had to say on the matter, I wasn't sure what to do with her breasts. I brushed them tentatively and felt the silky skin wobble, but I didn't want to do something wrong and lowered my hands to her belly and her back. Her body was toned and hardened by rough living, but still supple and gracefully curved. Oh I loved the feminine feel of how her sides were shaped, so different from mine.

I didn't know why, but I was crying a little. She kissed my tears away. "You're as gentle as you looked," she murmured. "And you've got nice, working hands."

"Am I... doing it right?"

She laughed a quiet, merry laugh, "You have no idea what you're doing." My face fell but she lifted up my chin, "No one does the first time." A sorrow passed over her face like the flickering shadows before she smiled again, "Let's get you some practice."

She laid me on my back, then slid back to rub my chest while she pulled down my braies with her teeth. I didn't know just what to do, but my erection made the cloth bulge like a sail in the wind. It took me a second to realize she was stuck because my rear was pinning the braies to the floor, but at last she got them loose and my hardness sprang free. Clear beads dribbled from the end. I'd never noticed that while stroking myself off, but I'd never felt so aroused before.

I'd heard about this! Vaiker said some of his girls had used their mouths on him; now she was bent to do the same to me.

Then she sniffed and wrinkled her nose. I almost died from shame. I bathed as often as most of the other men in town, but suddenly that didn't feel nearly often enough. From that day on I bathed every morning, long walk to Lake Lovann be damned.

"Perhaps not that," she sat up and I followed, but she put her hands on my chest and gently pushed me back down. Then she cupped them in front of her, and I saw a long strand of saliva spill down into them like spider silk.

With a long, hypnotic look that made me harder yet, she wrapped her slick fingers around my shaft and slowly slid her hands up and down. Arsalin squeezed and kneaded and stroked me better than I knew how to; she had me bucking and groaning in no time. I didn't even realize I should warn her until my seed was spattering her hands in the reddish light. She didn't stop though, just caught it all and rubbed it back onto me.

I only went soft for a moment. I could see all of her now, and her little, bouncing breasts were enchanting. She nodded and I put my hands on them, feeling out every inch of their softness. 

Then my fingers found something that wasn't smooth. Under her beautiful left breast was a long, cruel scar. A dagger-wound. I knew that's what it was right away; I'd seen this man Corsgo take a knife to the chest in a street-fight years ago, and he still liked to show off the ugly scar.

I sprang up, red-hot with fury. "Who hurt you?"

Arsalin shook her head, "No one who hasn't suffered enough for it." I tried to press the question, but all she'd say was, "I've lived a strange life." She had a faraway look that eventually stopped me. 

In the end I settled back down and she continued like nothing had happened.

"She had other scars too," the bowyer told them, "I asked about the big ones on her back till she told me. But she wouldn't say a damn word about the one on her tit." 

"I saw her get the ones on her back," the fisherman stared at his thumbless left hand, "But she had that one from long ago." 

Karan suddenly wasn't sure he wanted to continue. He'd known they knew more than he did; he needed to learn from their stories and not they from his. And his was so personal. It almost felt shameful admitting what she'd meant to him. And what they'd done was so intimate that he'd barely been able to tell his wife. 

The leaping flames gleamed in their eyes and every timber of the windowless cabin seemed to rattle after a flash of lightning from the approaching storm. Somewhere out in the darkness was a man who terrified him. 

But that's why he had to tell them everything. His wife was dead and his son before her. Most of his old friends too. He might be dead tomorrow and he wanted someone, somewhere to know what it had been like to be him. He needed someone to. Then he could be brave like Vaiker. 

He began again and stopped for nothing. 

Arsalin rubbed another mouthful of saliva onto my shaft and looked down at me, full-length again and dripping wet. "Mmm, good enough." She slowly crawled forward, pressing me down onto the soft blankets. I watched the puffy lips of her vulva nearly brush my thigh, and I gasped at the tickle of her hair. She stopped between my legs and leaned over to whisper, "If we do this, we do this my way."

I nodded.

"No, I mean it," she warned, "If you get too eager, you could hurt me. So you keep your butt on the ground no matter how much you want to go deeper and you don't touch anything I don't say to.

I went as still as I could. She sat up and brought her slick sex right past my twitching erection, then gently sank down, one hand on the ground for balance and one around my throbbing shaft. I felt myself sliding into the smooth cleft of her butt. 

At first I thought she'd just missed in the dark and I almost reached to help her before remembering what she'd said. Then I felt my hardness pressing against something. She winced, spat a long strand on a hand, and reached it back to rub behind her. Then slowly, so slowly, she lowered herself onto me, eyes locked onto mine and mouth in a little 'o.'

I gasped when I realized it was her ass I could feel just beginning to open for me. Even Vaiker never said he'd done that before. I was so aroused that it didn't seem strange at all; no, I wanted to be in her more than anything. It was so difficult to hold still.

She was hot as a furnace inside and so tight that it was almost painful despite how slick I was. And she felt so wonderful that I almost came again as my head popped into her. She smiled sensually and gave a soft, "Mmm," with half-closed lids.

She slid down bit by bit, spreading her legs to my sides for balance and sitting back onto her hands. If it wasn't the best thing I'd ever felt, it would have been torture lying there and trying not to move when all I wanted was to buck my hips and bury myself in her. I knew I couldn't resist if I looked down at her ass swallowing me inch by inch; I panted and watched her bouncing breasts and smiling lips instead. Then I felt her butt pressing firmly against my crotch; I was inside her to the hilt.

She lay down atop me and pressed her lips to mine and I held her close till we were one hot, happy body. She was so tight but so soft inside. I thought I could feel her heartbeat and I tensed up, about to fill her.

Arsalin knew before I could warn her; she kissed me deeper and wriggled till I gushed inside her, moaning into her hungry mouth.

She was like a warm blanket on a wintry night and I loved the feel of her lying with me almost as much as being buried in her. 

I don't think I ever even went soft, but we lay still together for a wonderful eternity before she started to move. Slowly and sensually at first with her sultry breath on my neck as she nibbled me, then she sat back with her hands behind her again and began to ride me hard and fast. I wasn't sure if I loved sliding in or being inside her more; to judge by her groans while she bounced, she might not have been either.

Between her legs, her vulva was slick and gleaming with her juices and the lips puffed out invitingly. I'd never seen one before and it was more alluring than I'd ever imagined. 

Her eyes looked closed, but she saw where my hand was going almost before I did. My fingers were just an inch from her inviting wetness when her arm snapped out fast as a striking snake. She forced my hand back with a fierce strength and a steel in her eyes that was almost frightening, "No!"

I was so dazed from how good it felt that I didn't manage a coherent apology, but my nod satisfied her. She started slowly again. 

The stop had cooled me off a little, but watching myself disappear into her made me harder than I'd even thought was possible. She paused with me in her to the root and rocked back and forth a moment before starting a quick, steady rhythm.

Always as fast as she'd grabbed my hand, she raised her left to her mouth, licked it, and then swiped it down to rub her sex in time with her movements. When I saw how those plump, full lips slid under her fingers, I knew I couldn't last another minute. 

That time she stayed put when she came down, still sliding her fingers over her vulva. One slipped inside her; it was beautiful. And then she started squeezing. It was like her ass was sucking on me, soft but insistently. The wonderful feeling continued as she rose and then slammed herself down one last time. I came hard, sitting up to embrace her so fast that I think I blacked out. Distantly, I knew she was still riding me, and I could feel her arm clamped between us still fingering herself until she came too.

When I regained my senses, Arsalin was sliding off of me, strands of white semen dripping out of her as she reached over to pick up a candle we'd knocked over. I was well and truly spent, suddenly feeling how little sleep I'd had. And more than that, I felt weary because I knew she was going to leave now.

I didn't say anything as we cleaned and dressed --or half-dressed, the morning air felt good on my bare chest. Or when we calmed the horses and she led Clipper out of his stall with one of those wiry, lovely, brown arms.

I finally opened my mouth when we got to the door, but she spoke first, "I'm not staying. I wanted to stop in town before pressing on; I did. I wanted to screw you; I did. And now I want to get back on the road."

There wasn't much I could say to that. Not much that wasn't stupid anyway. I fetched Clipper some more water to buy time. The way he nuzzled my hand when I brought him a carrot seemed almost apologetic. 

Arsalin neatened her long hair while he drank and then helped me carry the trough back, "You're going to do something stupid like follow me, aren't you?"

I sheepishly admitted I'd thought of it. 

She sighed, "Listen, Karan, don't go thinking you love me. You barely know me. Real love takes time. I've been around and seen it."

I looked at the straw-covered floor. The first gray hint of dawn was leaking onto it through the doors. "Then let me go with you." I'd never thought much about leaving Daraigo before, but after meeting her I found I wanted to. More importantly, I knew she wouldn't listen to another word if I asked her to stay with me instead.

She didn't laugh, so I went on, "I'm not just good with horses; I can stitch leather and fix shoes and... and all kinds of things. I'll be useful."

Arsalin stiffened, "Do you think I want a servant?"

"Well, no, I just mean... we could travel together," I finished lamely. "Then we'd have time. To fall in love I mean."

She tried not to smile, "You're a silly young romantic. Well that's what I liked about you. I'll wager Ameri would too."

There was that name again. I blurted, "Who's Ameri?" and realized my mistake an instant later when Arsalin seized the chance to change the subject.

"You don't know her name? The girl who was talking with you, Jaga, Carago, and Vaiker last night! You know, with the red hair curled like this. And the little brown spots on her cheeks," she tried to demonstrate. 

"The shepherdess!"

She snorted, "I suppose Vaiker wouldn't have introduced her, but you should have asked. She's a nice sort. Get to know her sometime; she's got that same puppy-eyed shyness you do."

"But she's Vaiker's-"

"No, she's Ameri's!" Arsalin walked back to Clipper, "The two of them were through as soon as he started chasing after me. Not that she liked him much before, she was just too shy to tell him off." She opened the heavy, wooden door, then sprang smoothly into the saddle. "Talk to her or not, that's your choice," she frowned down at me, "But don't sit around mooning after me."

"Do you think I should? Talk to her, I mean?"

She scoffed, "What does what I think matter? This is about you and her and what you two want. All I can say is she's cute and looking for love, like you."

I was silent.

Arsalin gave an exasperated sigh, "Yes, I think you should! But only if you won't ever treat her as second-best. I think you'll be good for each other, whether you stay together or not. And she already likes you."

I watched her hair rustling against the stars. "Will you come back?"

"Because I like you..." I looked up at her eagerly, but she turned ahead, "I promise that I never will. Go live your life."

She was gone before I could come up with a reply. I'll admit I did walk after her for a while; I kept hoping she'd change her mind and come back. But in the end there was nothing for it but to take her advice and live my life. I took my clothes down to Lake Lovann to wash, tended the horses, and was tired all day.

Around noon I went into the common room for a break and a drink. Vaiker and some of the others were having lunch and I joined them like I usually would. 

The rest were griping about how humid it was, but Vaiker was sullen, surly, and silent. Even Jaga noticed. "Hey!" Carago chuckled, slowly chewed another chunk of dark bread, and then continued, "How did that red lady's pussy taste, Vaiker?"

Even when he scowled he was a handsome fellow, but we could hear his wounded pride, "Ask that ugly tailor she went upstairs with; I don't need to fuck whores." 

All that morning I'd heard the talk from the guests who'd found out, so I knew he wasn't just trying to insult her. Still, it made me angry. Yes, Arsalin was a prostitute, but she was still a woman as good as any other. And I was sure there was more to her than we'd ever know. I'd never have dared tell him off before, but this time I was going to-

"Or shepherd-girls!" Saraigo added and Vaiker seethed as they snickered at what sounded like a well-worn joke already. Well I'd lost my chance, but I knew I'd get another.

Braigo joined us as we were finishing. "Good afternoon, boys." We all nodded and 'afternooned' him too. "Listen," he paused awkwardly, "I love a good time as much as anyone else, but I keep a clean inn. That reminds me, Orago, please change out the rushes in the cellar later."

Orago nodded and turned to go.

"Wait," Braigo waved him back into his chair, "Listen, boys. I'm not saying it's your fault, but Red Braigo's has a reputation and we can't have it stained." He brushed his long, orange locks aside. We were all just as tense. "Last night a... lady of the evening... came in here and this isn't that kind of house. I can't have that; some of the guests wouldn't like it." He meant people like that stuffy old banker of course. Isva is Isva, but the republics of the Old League are not so... open.

The tanner snorted. 

Vaiker smirked hollowly, "If you want to hire a guard, I could use the coin. I hear you pay well."

Braigo put up his hands, "That's not what I meant. I just mean... well... don't go flirting with any others. Show them out."

I really wanted to tell him he was wrong, but I had no idea how to say it. And it would be so difficult in front of all of them. I stood up to get back to work. 

"That means you as well, Karan, understand?" 

He knew. Somehow. I almost mumbled an apology and fled, but I didn't. I kept thinking about how she wasn't ashamed or crying when he kicked her out of his inn in the middle of the night. She didn't spend her time worrying about what other people thought of her, and she was happier than I was. I was blushing, but I met his eyes, "I know more about horses than... whores, sir. And I've never run an inn. But I mean... it's like smiths isn't it?"

He seemed as confused that I was talking at all as at my stumbles. 

I plunged onward, "I mean, you couldn't have a smith like Janda hammering out an axle here in the common room, but as long as he doesn't do that, his coin isn't any different, right? I mean... I mean... she's a woman."

Red Braigo was surprised, but he wasn't angry. "Well... I guess if she'll just sleep in her own room... it would be alright." He changed the subject, "Did you decide what to spend your gift on, Karan?"

I hadn't until just then, but I was feeling ten feet tall after speaking my mind. "That depends."

"On?" he seemed genuinely interested now.

"Well first, I've got the stables all ready for the evening rush. Can I take the rest of the day off?"

He considered. "I'll need your help putting on Thunder's new shoe... but that can wait. Alright."

"Well then," I turned to Vaiker. I knew he might laugh at me, but it would be a hollow jape if he did. "Where does Ameri live?"

He was so off-guard that he answered without thinking, "Farm just across Lake Figo. By the old ruined mill."

That'd be six miles by my reckoning. "Then I know," I nodded, "I'm going to wash up, buy some flowers, and hire a carriage so I can get out there clean. And I'll see if she'd like to come back to town for dinner. I know a nice inn called Red Braigo's with good ale and the best stuffed potatoes you've ever tasted." I tried to copy one of Devann's sly winks and we all laughed together.



The Bowyer's Tale



Neither of us was tall, but we still had to duck up there. She sat comfortably on my mess of pillows and blankets and beckoned me down beside her. I just followed her lead as we lit a few more candles.

Arsalin's face was in shadow, but I could see her lips were bent into a warm, self-confident grin. It was different from the way Vaiker grinned when he was making his jokes. His smile was asking you to please smile too. She was smiling just for herself.

The others nodded and no one interrupted him now. 

You know, I never really saw her properly. It was always night or candlelight indoors. But I'm sure, absolutely sure, that I'd know her if I met her again. She carried herself differently.

As I was sitting there, looking at her proud shoulders and how her breasts bobbed under her red dress, I realized that that's why she was so beautiful. Not her breasts, I mean. Well not just them. I mean she was so confident. She loved herself, so how could you not love her? She knew what she wanted and she would get it or do it or say it, and that was a kind of strength I'd never had. I wanted it even more than I wanted her right then. And when she leaned closer, it was like her strength was flowing into me; for the first time in my life I wasn't afraid of what anyone else would say. I'll never forget how that felt.

Our lips met in the middle and I'll never forget that either. My breath stank and so did hers, but I didn't want to break that kiss for anything. I embraced her with one hand and felt out the lovely contours of her face with the other, touching her soft cheeks and smooth chin and running my fingers through her long, luxurious hair. It smelled like some kind of flower. I tugged a strand to my nose and breathed in the sweet scent. It must have tickled her nose next to mine since she sneezed and then giggled. I sat back and laughed too, both of us quiet. The horses down below were the only ones around, but there's something about being in the dark that makes one want to be silent.

She nimbly undid the laces of her dress; I only got in the way when I tried to help. I took my tunic off instead. 

And then our arms were tangled, exploring each other's chests as we kissed again. I was still more slim than muscular, but she seemed to like what she found anyway. Her cool hands sent thrills through me as they slid over every bump of rib or muscle.

Even after hearing what Vaiker had to say on the matter, I wasn't sure what to do with her breasts. I brushed them tentatively and felt the silky skin wobble, but I didn't want to do something wrong and lowered my hands to her belly and her back. Her body was toned and hardened by rough living, but still supple and gracefully curved. Oh I loved the feminine feel of how her sides were shaped, so different from mine.

I didn't know why, but I was crying a little. She kissed my tears away. "You're as gentle as you looked," she murmured. "And you've got nice, working hands."

"Am I... doing it right?"

She laughed a quiet, merry laugh, "You have no idea what you're doing." My face fell but she lifted up my chin, "No one does the first time." A sorrow passed over her face like the flickering shadows before she smiled again, "Let's get you some practice."

She laid me on my back, then slid back to rub my chest while she pulled down my braies with her teeth. I didn't know just what to do, but my erection made the cloth bulge like a sail in the wind. It took me a second to realize she was stuck because my rear was pinning the braies to the floor, but at last she got them loose and my hardness sprang free. Clear beads dribbled from the end. I'd never noticed that while stroking myself off, but I'd never felt so aroused before.

I'd heard about this! Vaiker said some of his girls had used their mouths on him; now she was bent to do the same to me.

Then she sniffed and wrinkled her nose. I almost died from shame. I bathed as often as most of the other men in town, but suddenly that didn't feel nearly often enough. From that day on I bathed every morning, long walk to Lake Lovann be damned.

"Perhaps not that," she sat up and I followed, but she put her hands on my chest and gently pushed me back down. Then she cupped them in front of her, and I saw a long strand of saliva spill down into them like spider silk.

With a long, hypnotic look that made me harder yet, she wrapped her slick fingers around my shaft and slowly slid her hands up and down. Arsalin squeezed and kneaded and stroked me better than I knew how to; she had me bucking and groaning in no time. I didn't even realize I should warn her until my seed was spattering her hands in the reddish light. She didn't stop though, just caught it all and rubbed it back onto me.

I only went soft for a moment. I could see all of her now, and her little, bouncing breasts were enchanting. She nodded and I put my hands on them, feeling out every inch of their softness. 

Then my fingers found something that wasn't smooth. Under her beautiful left breast was a long, cruel scar. A dagger-wound. I knew that's what it was right away; I'd seen this man Corsgo take a knife to the chest in a street-fight years ago, and he still liked to show off the ugly scar.

I sprang up, red-hot with fury. "Who hurt you?"

Arsalin shook her head, "No one who hasn't suffered enough for it." I tried to press the question, but all she'd say was, "I've lived a strange life." She had a faraway look that eventually stopped me. 

In the end I settled back down and she continued like nothing had happened.

"She had other scars too," the bowyer told them, "I asked about the big ones on her back till she told me. But she wouldn't say a damn word about the one on her tit." 

"I saw her get the ones on her back," the fisherman stared at his thumbless left hand, "But she had that one from long ago." 

Karan suddenly wasn't sure he wanted to continue. He'd known they knew more than he did; he needed to learn from their stories and not they from his. And his was so personal. It almost felt shameful admitting what she'd meant to him. And what they'd done was so intimate that he'd barely been able to tell his wife. 

The leaping flames gleamed in their eyes and every timber of the windowless cabin seemed to rattle after a flash of lightning from the approaching storm. Somewhere out in the darkness was a man who terrified him. 

But that's why he had to tell them everything. His wife was dead and his son before her. Most of his old friends too. He might be dead tomorrow and he wanted someone, somewhere to know what it had been like to be him. He needed someone to. Then he could be brave like Vaiker. 

He began again and stopped for nothing. 

Arsalin rubbed another mouthful of saliva onto my shaft and looked down at me, full-length again and dripping wet. "Mmm, good enough." She slowly crawled forward, pressing me down onto the soft blankets. I watched the puffy lips of her vulva nearly brush my thigh, and I gasped at the tickle of her hair. She stopped between my legs and leaned over to whisper, "If we do this, we do this my way."

I nodded.

"No, I mean it," she warned, "If you get too eager, you could hurt me. So you keep your butt on the ground no matter how much you want to go deeper and you don't touch anything I don't say to.

I went as still as I could. She sat up and brought her slick sex right past my twitching erection, then gently sank down, one hand on the ground for balance and one around my throbbing shaft. I felt myself sliding into the smooth cleft of her butt. 

At first I thought she'd just missed in the dark and I almost reached to help her before remembering what she'd said. Then I felt my hardness pressing against something. She winced, spat a long strand on a hand, and reached it back to rub behind her. Then slowly, so slowly, she lowered herself onto me, eyes locked onto mine and mouth in a little 'o.'

I gasped when I realized it was her ass I could feel just beginning to open for me. Even Vaiker never said he'd done that before. I was so aroused that it didn't seem strange at all; no, I wanted to be in her more than anything. It was so difficult to hold still.

She was hot as a furnace inside and so tight that it was almost painful despite how slick I was. And she felt so wonderful that I almost came again as my head popped into her. She smiled sensually and gave a soft, "Mmm," with half-closed lids.

She slid down bit by bit, spreading her legs to my sides for balance and sitting back onto her hands. If it wasn't the best thing I'd ever felt, it would have been torture lying there and trying not to move when all I wanted was to buck my hips and bury myself in her. I knew I couldn't resist if I looked down at her ass swallowing me inch by inch; I panted and watched her bouncing breasts and smiling lips instead. Then I felt her butt pressing firmly against my crotch; I was inside her to the hilt.

She lay down atop me and pressed her lips to mine and I held her close till we were one hot, happy body. She was so tight but so soft inside. I thought I could feel her heartbeat and I tensed up, about to fill her.

Arsalin knew before I could warn her; she kissed me deeper and wriggled till I gushed inside her, moaning into her hungry mouth.

She was like a warm blanket on a wintry night and I loved the feel of her lying with me almost as much as being buried in her. 

I don't think I ever even went soft, but we lay still together for a wonderful eternity before she started to move. Slowly and sensually at first with her sultry breath on my neck as she nibbled me, then she sat back with her hands behind her again and began to ride me hard and fast. I wasn't sure if I loved sliding in or being inside her more; to judge by her groans while she bounced, she might not have been either.

Between her legs, her vulva was slick and gleaming with her juices and the lips puffed out invitingly. I'd never seen one before and it was more alluring than I'd ever imagined. 

Her eyes looked closed, but she saw where my hand was going almost before I did. My fingers were just an inch from her inviting wetness when her arm snapped out fast as a striking snake. She forced my hand back with a fierce strength and a steel in her eyes that was almost frightening, "No!"

I was so dazed from how good it felt that I didn't manage a coherent apology, but my nod satisfied her. She started slowly again. 

The stop had cooled me off a little, but watching myself disappear into her made me harder than I'd even thought was possible. She paused with me in her to the root and rocked back and forth a moment before starting a quick, steady rhythm.

Always as fast as she'd grabbed my hand, she raised her left to her mouth, licked it, and then swiped it down to rub her sex in time with her movements. When I saw how those plump, full lips slid under her fingers, I knew I couldn't last another minute. 

That time she stayed put when she came down, still sliding her fingers over her vulva. One slipped inside her; it was beautiful. And then she started squeezing. It was like her ass was sucking on me, soft but insistently. The wonderful feeling continued as she rose and then slammed herself down one last time. I came hard, sitting up to embrace her so fast that I think I blacked out. Distantly, I knew she was still riding me, and I could feel her arm clamped between us still fingering herself until she came too.

When I regained my senses, Arsalin was sliding off of me, strands of white semen dripping out of her as she reached over to pick up a candle we'd knocked over. I was well and truly spent, suddenly feeling how little sleep I'd had. And more than that, I felt weary because I knew she was going to leave now.

I didn't say anything as we cleaned and dressed --or half-dressed, the morning air felt good on my bare chest. Or when we calmed the horses and she led Clipper out of his stall with one of those wiry, lovely, brown arms.

I finally opened my mouth when we got to the door, but she spoke first, "I'm not staying. I wanted to stop in town before pressing on; I did. I wanted to screw you; I did. And now I want to get back on the road."

There wasn't much I could say to that. Not much that wasn't stupid anyway. I fetched Clipper some more water to buy time. The way he nuzzled my hand when I brought him a carrot seemed almost apologetic. 

Arsalin neatened her long hair while he drank and then helped me carry the trough back, "You're going to do something stupid like follow me, aren't you?"

I sheepishly admitted I'd thought of it. 

She sighed, "Listen, Karan, don't go thinking you love me. You barely know me. Real love takes time. I've been around and seen it."

I looked at the straw-covered floor. The first gray hint of dawn was leaking onto it through the doors. "Then let me go with you." I'd never thought much about leaving Daraigo before, but after meeting her I found I wanted to. More importantly, I knew she wouldn't listen to another word if I asked her to stay with me instead.

She didn't laugh, so I went on, "I'm not just good with horses; I can stitch leather and fix shoes and... and all kinds of things. I'll be useful."

Arsalin stiffened, "Do you think I want a servant?"

"Well, no, I just mean... we could travel together," I finished lamely. "Then we'd have time. To fall in love I mean."

She tried not to smile, "You're a silly young romantic. Well that's what I liked about you. I'll wager Ameri would too."

There was that name again. I blurted, "Who's Ameri?" and realized my mistake an instant later when Arsalin seized the chance to change the subject.

"You don't know her name? The girl who was talking with you, Jaga, Carago, and Vaiker last night! You know, with the red hair curled like this. And the little brown spots on her cheeks," she tried to demonstrate. 

"The shepherdess!"

She snorted, "I suppose Vaiker wouldn't have introduced her, but you should have asked. She's a nice sort. Get to know her sometime; she's got that same puppy-eyed shyness you do."

"But she's Vaiker's-"

"No, she's Ameri's!" Arsalin walked back to Clipper, "The two of them were through as soon as he started chasing after me. Not that she liked him much before, she was just too shy to tell him off." She opened the heavy, wooden door, then sprang smoothly into the saddle. "Talk to her or not, that's your choice," she frowned down at me, "But don't sit around mooning after me."

"Do you think I should? Talk to her, I mean?"

She scoffed, "What does what I think matter? This is about you and her and what you two want. All I can say is she's cute and looking for love, like you."

I was silent.

Arsalin gave an exasperated sigh, "Yes, I think you should! But only if you won't ever treat her as second-best. I think you'll be good for each other, whether you stay together or not. And she already likes you."

I watched her hair rustling against the stars. "Will you come back?"

"Because I like you..." I looked up at her eagerly, but she turned ahead, "I promise that I never will. Go live your life."

She was gone before I could come up with a reply. I'll admit I did walk after her for a while; I kept hoping she'd change her mind and come back. But in the end there was nothing for it but to take her advice and live my life. I took my clothes down to Lake Lovann to wash, tended the horses, and was tired all day.

Around noon I went into the common room for a break and a drink. Vaiker and some of the others were having lunch and I joined them like I usually would. 

The rest were griping about how humid it was, but Vaiker was sullen, surly, and silent. Even Jaga noticed. "Hey!" Carago chuckled, slowly chewed another chunk of dark bread, and then continued, "How did that red lady's pussy taste, Vaiker?"

Even when he scowled he was a handsome fellow, but we could hear his wounded pride, "Ask that ugly tailor she went upstairs with; I don't need to fuck whores." 

All that morning I'd heard the talk from the guests who'd found out, so I knew he wasn't just trying to insult her. Still, it made me angry. Yes, Arsalin was a prostitute, but she was still a woman as good as any other. And I was sure there was more to her than we'd ever know. I'd never have dared tell him off before, but this time I was going to-

"Or shepherd-girls!" Saraigo added and Vaiker seethed as they snickered at what sounded like a well-worn joke already. Well I'd lost my chance, but I knew I'd get another.

Braigo joined us as we were finishing. "Good afternoon, boys." We all nodded and 'afternooned' him too. "Listen," he paused awkwardly, "I love a good time as much as anyone else, but I keep a clean inn. That reminds me, Orago, please change out the rushes in the cellar later."

Orago nodded and turned to go.

"Wait," Braigo waved him back into his chair, "Listen, boys. I'm not saying it's your fault, but Red Braigo's has a reputation and we can't have it stained." He brushed his long, orange locks aside. We were all just as tense. "Last night a... lady of the evening... came in here and this isn't that kind of house. I can't have that; some of the guests wouldn't like it." He meant people like that stuffy old banker of course. Isva is Isva, but the republics of the Old League are not so... open.

The tanner snorted. 

Vaiker smirked hollowly, "If you want to hire a guard, I could use the coin. I hear you pay well."

Braigo put up his hands, "That's not what I meant. I just mean... well... don't go flirting with any others. Show them out."

I really wanted to tell him he was wrong, but I had no idea how to say it. And it would be so difficult in front of all of them. I stood up to get back to work. 

"That means you as well, Karan, understand?" 

He knew. Somehow. I almost mumbled an apology and fled, but I didn't. I kept thinking about how she wasn't ashamed or crying when he kicked her out of his inn in the middle of the night. She didn't spend her time worrying about what other people thought of her, and she was happier than I was. I was blushing, but I met his eyes, "I know more about horses than... whores, sir. And I've never run an inn. But I mean... it's like smiths isn't it?"

He seemed as confused that I was talking at all as at my stumbles. 

I plunged onward, "I mean, you couldn't have a smith like Janda hammering out an axle here in the common room, but as long as he doesn't do that, his coin isn't any different, right? I mean... I mean... she's a woman."

Red Braigo was surprised, but he wasn't angry. "Well... I guess if she'll just sleep in her own room... it would be alright." He changed the subject, "Did you decide what to spend your gift on, Karan?"

I hadn't until just then, but I was feeling ten feet tall after speaking my mind. "That depends."

"On?" he seemed genuinely interested now.

"Well first, I've got the stables all ready for the evening rush. Can I take the rest of the day off?"

He considered. "I'll need your help putting on Thunder's new shoe... but that can wait. Alright."

"Well then," I turned to Vaiker. I knew he might laugh at me, but it would be a hollow jape if he did. "Where does Ameri live?"

He was so off-guard that he answered without thinking, "Farm just across Lake Figo. By the old ruined mill."

That'd be six miles by my reckoning. "Then I know," I nodded, "I'm going to wash up, buy some flowers, and hire a carriage so I can get out there clean. And I'll see if she'd like to come back to town for dinner. I know a nice inn called Red Braigo's with good ale and the best stuffed potatoes you've ever tasted." I tried to copy one of Devann's sly winks and we all laughed together.