THE DOGS OF WAR

by Mack the Knife

Rendan was stunned as he heard the tales the other soldiers were weaving concerning the only woman in their company. Her name was Heather, and she was their most treasured soldier. He saw her when he came into the camp, slight of build, and short. She had flaxen hair, that hung to nearly halfway down her back. She had been wearing the blue hardloth dress that marked a female trooper.

"How else do you think a tiny waif of a creature like her can make those beasts do her bidding, eh?" said Tobias, one of the squad leaders. "She's mating them, I tell you."

One of the other soldiers sat down his tankard and regarded his squad mate. "Have you ever seen her do it?" he asked, his face dubious, but hopeful.

Tobias chuckled. "Not yet, I haven't. But, mark my words, Davren, I will," he replied.

Two of the other men in the little circle laughed at that. "You're full of shit, Tobias, be you corporal or no," one soldier said, with much assent among the other men.

Tobias adopted a look of righteous indignation. "You'll see, you lot. She's bedding those creatures," he said, his voice irritated that his tale had not gone over well. "She loves those dogs more than men. And when was the last time you heard of her with a man?" His eyes squinted as if he had just made a major pair of points.

The men murmured a moment, then Davren shot back, "If I were her, I wouldn't go about with any of the louses in this unit, either!" That brought a general furor of cheers and clonking mugs as the group drank to his rather dubious toast.

One voice rose up over the general tumult and shouted: "To the Hellhounds!" And held aloft his mug. He was echoed as the group raised their mugs and looked toward the paddock near their barracks where the animals being toasted were kept. The dogs howled along with the men as they cheered them. They then drained half their steins, then walked over to the paddock's edge and dumped the remainder into the dogs' water trough.

They had good reason to cheer the 'hellhounds.' Every one of them owed his life to the dogs in one way or another. They had been part of the company for some two years now, and they had proven themselves every bit the soldier that any man could be, and maybe more.

* * * * * * *

Later in his tiny room, with his new bunkmate, Stefan, Rendan asked, "Do you believe those tales about Heather?"

Stefan hung his head over the side of his bunk, looking down at the new recruit. His shock of bright red hair visible even in the dim light from the watchpost's torchlight, seeping in the single tiny window. "Don't go worrying about it, lad," he said. "She's never given any sign to any man here she's interested in being companionable with. So, whether or not those rumors are true, it won't make a lick of difference. After you see your first battle and you find out you owe your scrawny neck to those hounds and to Heather, you won't care anymore either. You'll just be glad they're there." He grinned at his protegee. "Now get some sleep, tomorrow's training will be tough."

The young recruit could not sleep, and thought about the rather plain girl with the flaxen hair. After almost an hour he got up and looked outside. Other than the gate sentry and the one sentry patrolling the palisade wall, he was the only thing stirring this night. The moon was new, and it was very dark. He walked across the road that ran through the middle of the camp toward the paddock. Several of the hounds sat up at his approach, and as he got closer, they started growling and moving toward the fence.

A feminine voice came from his left. "You've not been introduced to them, recruit," she said, "I don't recommend going closer until you have been."

He looked over and saw the flaxen-haired girl. She was wearing only a nightshirt now, not the bulky hardcloth dress he had seen her wearing earlier. It glowed white in the very little moonlight, stark against the darker colors of the buildings and ground behind her. She looked almost as a ghost, the light breeze whipping the edges of her garment gently, and her hair streaming loose behind her.

"I see," he said, backing away from the dogs as they bared fangs at him.

She smiled, her teeth now adding to the bright contrasts she was presenting. "Come to me, then I will introduce you to them," she said, holding out her hand.

He walked toward her, and the dogs started growling louder, and their eyes and teeth shone menacingly in the shadowed night. She whistled three short bars, and they immediately calmed and most of them sat down. He took her hand, and she led him to a small gate in the paddock fence. She opened it and led him right into the middle of the pack. Twenty dogs, each as massive as he, were in here. The 'doggish' smell was strong and they all regarded him closely, following his every move. She whistled another set of bars, and the dogs all stood up and started walking toward the couple.

She looked at him and said, "Sit here." She folded her legs under herself and sat down.

As he sat next to her the dogs closed in, their huge heads pressing close and sniffing his face, head, and neck. They sniffed his armpits and even his groin. He felt quite slimy by the time they were done, and all of them moved a short distance away from him. She whistled again, this time a long string of tones. The largest of the dogs separated from the pack and came up to him. It stood before him with its massive tail wagging.

"Pet him," instructed Heather, stroking the huge dog's flank.

Rendan gulped and then held a hand to the dog's neck. The huge animal sniffed his fingers, then allowed himself to be petted. His fur was slick, like it was oiled.

The woman smiled at him. "This is King, the prime male," she said. "He's the leader of the pack."

"I thought you led the dogs?" asked Rendan.

She laughed warmly. "I do, but I do it by commanding him, then he 'tells' the other dogs what to do," she said. "They know what is needed of them by his very pose and smell and other things I can't even guess at." She stroked his long flank. "He's the real boss, I just trick him into doing what I want."

The lad chuckled. "How do you know he's the prime male?" he asked.

"He's the only one who mates with the only bitch here," answered Heather, pointing to a single female dog standing slightly apart from the main pack. "Only prime males are allowed by the pack to mate."

Rendan chuckled again. "What about the other dogs'...needs?" he asked, still thinking of the tales he had heard.

She smiled, but it had an edge of frost to it. "Dogs, unlike men, do not inherently have a 'need'," she said. "They are not like us, but they are also much like us. The other males know they are not the prime and leave Duchess alone. Though I doubt that answer is as colorful as you hoped to hear," she said, the icyness in her smile creeping into her voice. "One should be cautious of the tales they let get into their head." She looked at him hard in the limited light.

"I did not think anything of them, Miss," he said, suddenly aware of how easily she could let her displeasure be known, and felt, by him. "I knew the corporal was just running his mouth."

She laughed bitterly. "He's been doing that since I turned down his offer of companionship a few months ago." She touched his shoulder. "I do not hold you having heard tales against you, recruit. Many lads hear them then avoid speaking to me like I had the plague. At least you were smart enough to wish to confirm whether the tales were true or not."

"Huh?" said Rendan. "What do you mean?"

She grinned wide, her teeth flashing again. "Why else were you coming to the paddock after midnight?" she said. "Hoping to catch me in the act?"

He reddened so intensely that he felt sure she could see it in the darkness. "I...I'm sorry, Miss," he stammered. "I'll go now, and not bother you any more." He started to rise.

She placed a hand gently on his shoulder. "No. Stay," she said. He sat back down. She was not a terribly pretty girl, and only a year or two his senior, if that. She did however have a commanding presence, and he could not help but obey her when she said those words. "I would speak more, if you are not yet tired."

He nodded. "Okay, I'll pay for it in the morning, but I would frankly rather talk with you than listen to Stefan snore," he said, smiling at her.

She giggled at that, a rather nice sound to his ears. "Well, I appreciate the little favors life grants me," she said. "But, back to our conversation. I do not mate with my animals, despite the corporal's and other people's tales to the contrary. They do not obey me because I bed them." She grinned broadly. "It doesn't work on men, why would it on animals?"

He thought about that a moment. "I don't suppose it does," he said, nodding. "Actually, most men become more unruly then, don't they?" He grinned broadly, having pieced together her circuitous logic. "But why have you had no partners among the camp's men?" he asked boldly, shocking himself with his brazenness.

She eyed him a long second. "How do you know I have not?" she finally said, smiling slightly, the icy shape forming in her thin lips. "Do you think that, perhaps, since you have not heard some drunken soldier brag of bedding me, that I have not taken one, or more, to my cot?"

He fell silent, and refused to meet her eyes. "I guess I did, please forgive my impertinence, Miss," he said, his voice now very small. "I am but a foolish boy next to you."

She smiled more warmly now. "Now, don't go beating yourself too lowly, recruit," she said. "I did not mean to make you feel totally ashamed, only to get your mind to thinking before you got too many very bad ideas wrapped around your brain." She stood up, holding her hand out. "They have smelled you well enough," she said.

He took her hand and she helped him to his feet. "It was nice speaking with you, Miss Heather," he said as she opened the paddock gate.

She eyed him curiously for a moment. "I had hoped we could have some tea before you go to your bunk," she said. "Unless you are tired now," she added.

He blinked a moment. "No. I just thought..," he started to say.

"Well, don't do that just yet," she interrupted him. "You will know when I wish you to leave." She laughed self-consciously. "Subtlety is not one of my strong suits."

She led him through a few small storage huts to what looked to be another storage hut. "My lavish quarters," she said, opening the plank door. "The captain had me move in here when I first arrived at the fort, and never found a better place for me to stay." She smiled as he walked in and looked about the candle-lit room. "Since I am the only female, building a barracks for me would be silly."

The room only had a few pieces of furniture within it. A cot, a small table, littered with papers full of writing, three chairs about the table, a tiny fireplace, and a large foot locker. There were a couple of shelves, as well, with random items upon them. Knick-knacks, and other small personal things common to girls' rooms the world over, he was sure.

She offered him a seat. And she went to the fireplace and put a kettle over the fire on an iron spike that was set into the fireplace's wall. She sat on the chair opposite him at the little table, grabbing up the papers and stacking them more neatly, then setting them onto the chest.

"Letters home?" he asked, eyeing the pile of papers.

She smiled. "No. Pedigrees for the dogs," she replied. "Each has a tracing of his lineage back twenty generations. My family has been raising fighting dogs for generations. Besides, home is only a half hour walk away, so I need not write them except when we've gone afield." She paused for a moment. "You know, I've not asked your name yet."

He nodded. "Rendan, Miss Heather," he said. "Or should I call you by rank?" he asked.

She smiled at him, her smile now quite a lot warmer, compared to the rather chilly ones he had received outside. "You can call me just Heather, if you wish," she said. "My rank is rather immaterial, technically, I'm a corporal."

He looked at her closely, this being the first time he had a good chance to. She was short, as he already knew, and very light of build. Her shape was not so slim, though, that she looked anything other than very feminine, especially in the light gown she was now wearing. Her face was somewhat plain, her lips being a bit thin and her eyes somewhat close-set, though they were a lovely shade of green. Her nose was a touch too large for the rest of her face, and that, alone, accounted for most of her unexceptional looks. He had discovered, though, despite her thin lips, she had a nice, wide smile. And her hair was a crowning glory. It was thick and luxuriant, its flax-yellow color flowing down past her shoulders, and catching the light with each strand as she moved. He noted that each strand seemed to break the light apart, almost like little glass crystals, forming tiny rainbow reflections of the candle.

She noted his stare, and smiled more broadly and actually blushed a little. "Are you trying to memorize me?" she said. "Your stare is a bit strong, Rendan."

He blinked twice. "Oh. Sorry, Heather, I don't mean to stare."

She tilted her head slightly. "I don't mind being looked at, though I'm sure that the village around the hill has more comely lasses to attract your eyes," she said.

He blinked again. "But, none are the near legend you are, Heather of the Hellhounds," he said. He ventured a smile toward her. "I mean, you're spoken of more highly than any man in this company."

She giggled. "You would rather lay with a legend than bed a beauty?" she said, her eyes sparkling.

He swallowed this time with his blink. "Uh," he said, words escaping him. The recruit was unused to the directness of women in the service of the crown and was not sure how to respond.

She smiled at him gently, and put her hand upon his arm. "I only jest with you, Rendan," she said. "I'm sorry if I made you nervous." Her touch was cool, but somehow made his arm very warm.

He put on what he thought was a brave smile. "Well, I did not take it as an offer, I knew it was just a comment," he said, trying to cover his embarrassment.

The kettle started to whistle and she stood up. As she crossed the three steps to the fireplace, "It was an offer, recruit," she said, lifting the kettle and turning back to the stunned expression on the lad's face.

Her smile grew very wide indeed as the pink suffused his face and neck, all the way down to his muscular arms and hands. She raised an eyebrow at him. "Is that a good reaction or bad?" She asked

He shifted in his seat uncomfortably. Then glanced down, then looked back to her face. "A good one, I'm sure," he said, trying to smile through the blush. She poured their tea, dipping out a spoonful of herbs into each steaming cup of water from a small pot off the shelf.

She sat down, in the chair next to his own this time. "You will find, I am sure, that women in the service do not play coy games with your heart and desires," she said, her eyes large. "We have the same drives you lads have, and we don't have time to play games to sate them."

He sipped the tea, one of the stronger brews he had tasted. After a couple of sips, he felt it warming his arms and legs quite nicely. "I understand, I think," he said.

She nodded. "When each day brings the possibility of death, it is pointless to waste several days just trying to discover if someone 'likes' you," she said. She put her hand on his wrist. "I do not, despite what you may think, make my choice of partners lightly."

Several sips of tea later, he said. "I would never assume that." He looked at her. "You're seriously offering me your company?" he asked, finally, deciding to make the question quite unambiguous.

Heather moved her hand up his arm to near his shoulder and leaned toward him. She kissed his lips gently. He felt the charge of a first kiss in it, and inhaled deeply, smelling the mingled odors of soap, rosewater, and a slight hint of dogs. She pulled back to about a foot. "Does that satisfy your question?" she asked.

"Yes, I believe it does," he responded. Then he moved to her, and kissed her back. This one had a bit more fire in it, and she parted her lips for him, inviting him to give his tongue to her. He complied eagerly, and she sucked upon it as he explored her mouth. Her hand came up and ran through his close-cropped hair, grasping the short hairs at the back of his neck. She broke the kiss and pulled his head back with that hair, moving down to kiss his neck as she stood up and moved closer to him, her lips were cool, but her tongue was warm, and it provided a very stimulating contrast as she left a trail of kisses and nibbles across his neck. A small moan escaped his lips as he felt her hair not occupied by his hair move onto his thigh, just below his tunic, resting gently on the thin linen of his pants.

His own hands went into action, moving to her hair and stroking her thick mane, then down her spine. She seemed to like the touch, as she pushed up against his hands, trying to reinforce the contact. He did not like the angles they were working with, so he slipped from his chair and onto his knees. She now stood above him by two feet, but she dropped to her knees as well, and their faces were nearly level. Their lips met again, and they exchanged tongues gently, then more passionately as they warmed each other up. He put his hands around her and she him. Simultaneously, they pulled toward each other, their chests meeting and their pelvises forcing into one another. She gasped as his swollen cockstem pushed against her belly.

"I can see we're in for some fun this night," she said, smiling at him as she looked down at the prominent bulge in his trousers. "I'll admit, it's been too long for me."

He nodded. "Me too," he said, then grinned sheepishly. "Like forever," he confessed.

She touched his lips. "Let it not bother you, Galeor," she said. "I won't let it bother me."

His hands ran down her back, the thin fabric allowing him to feel every contour of her skin beneath it, down to her rump and its tight muscles. She sighed as he wrapped his large hands around her cheeks, pushing his fingers into the crack.

He felt her hands move down his sides, then between them. She wrapped her slim fingers around his shaft pulling the cloth tight to him. He felt a spot of moisture forming on the tip of his cock. Her teeth sunk into his neck as she pulled back her body from him a little, pulling his belt open in the same move and moving a step away as she let her teeth loose of his flesh. The belt pulled through the loops in his pants, and came free in her hands. She eyed the long strip of thick leather for a moment, consideringly, then tossed it over her shoulder negligently. Her grin was positively predatory now, and she moved back toward him again.

She was not truly pretty, but suddenly, she was incredibly sexy, he decided. She was in the mood now, and she was not planning on being let down at this point. Her hands gripped his pants and pulled him toward the bed by his belt loops. She was grinning up at him, and he was more than a little nervous, now that it came down to it.

"Relax, lover," she said. "I only bite a little." Her teeth flashed as she grinned up at him and sat upon the bed. She still held his belt loops, his pants were now loose on his hips, with his belt lying somewhere near the large chest on the floor. She pulled down on his pants, and they slid down his muscular legs.

"I've never had a girl do anything like..." he started to speak, but soon stopped when her hand came up and grasped his swollen organ, her cool fingers enwrapping it. He was no giant among men, but she seemed more than pleased with it.

She giggled at him, her eyes sparkling. "You're about to," she said, then took him into her mouth. He gasped as his knees tried to buckle out from beneath him. It took all his will to straighten them out again, and then only because he was very loathe to let himself fall and cause his cockstem to fall from her thin, but very soft lips. Between her small hand and entwining lips, he was quickly building toward his climax. Her other hand went to his scrotum, and started rolling his balls around in the sack. She fondled them gently, but the effect was enormous. He grunted as his semen shot forth, spilling into her mouth. She gulped at it, taking it down her throat as it came to her. As his twitching organ finally subsided, she pulled it forth from her mouth. "It's usually considered polite to tell a girl you're about to do that," she chided gently. "But I don't mind." Her tongue came out and lapped up a few droplets of latecoming semen. "This time," she added, finally, and again smiled hugely.

She stood up, and his hands automatically went to her solid-looking shoulders. She kissed one hand, and put her hands over his. She moved them a little to get him started, and he took the hint well, moving both hands to the outside of her shoulders, and with them the thin gown's shoulder straps. The gown slid slowly down her body, revealing her petite form. Her breasts were lovely. They were small, but perfectly shaped, curved on the underside, and straight on the top, with dark areolas and sizable nipples pointing slightly upward. Below that was a taut belly, with a very cute belly-button. Then a dark patch of deep golden brown hairs over the small fleshy lips of her cunt.

He noted that there were scars here and there over her body, a rather sizable one just below her rib cage on the left side. He touched it gently.

"Eight months ago in the Krundar Pass," she said, looking down as he looked at it. "One of the barbarian bitches speared me before King ripped her throat out." She laughed. "I've become a target of choice on the field with the barbarians. They ignore the men now, and come at me, especially the women-folk among them."

He leaned forward and kissed the scar and she giggled. "That tickles," she said, pulling him away from it. "This is the wound you wish to kiss," she said, pushing his head downward. He followed her motion and found himself on his knees before her. Her legs moved apart slightly and he sighed as he looked upon his first vagina up close. The little nub of a clitoris peeked from beneath its delicate hood, sitting just over the folded and tiny lips of her labia. He could smell a slightly musky odor from it, but it was far from off-putting, he seemed drawn to the odor, and buried his tongue into the slit, forcing her legs apart a little more as he sought to taste her deeper. "Down boy," she said, pushing him back with both hands. "I don't think I can stand for that for long." Heather sat upon the bed's edge and laid back, opening her legs wide to him. "Now, try lapping that way, my stud." She said.

He bent between her legs, and kissed his way up one thigh. By the time he reached her cunt, she was moaning softly with each kiss. As his tongue slid over her clitoris, she gasped and her hands grabbed his head, holding him there. "That's it, lover, right there," she said, her hands felt very strong, and he did not seek to move anyway. He lapped at the button eagerly, swiping his tongue in quick motions over it, and she twitched a little at each pass. Her face was the very picture of pleasure, as he could see looking up over her belly and between her breasts. Her head was propped on the wall, as the cot was not particularly wide. Almost the perfect width, he thought.

Heather's eyes opened and she smiled down at him. "Like watching your lover, do you?" she said. "I like that." His hands were on her thighs, pulling them to his head. She grabbed one and said, "Give me a finger, lover, please."

He moved that hand down beneath his chin and slipped a finger into her tight vagina, feeling it pass through and up into her, parting the labia and sinking into a very wet, slick place. Her hands tightened into his hair, and she started gently to push against his mouth with her pelvis. She moaned as her own climax came upon her. "Another," she gasped out. He obliged, slipping a second finger up into her opening, and felt the muscles just inside her cunt contract around them. "That's it," she groaned as she arched her back. Her hands became like talons, her nails digging into his scalp, but not quite breaking the skin. Her pelvis came up as she curved her spine backward, forcing his front teeth against the cleft over her clitoris. She finally seemed to release, and her body became like a taut bowstring, thrumming with energy. Then it exploded into a loud scream that surely would be heard throughout the camp. She collapsed onto the bed again, her eyes shut and her mouth open, panting. "By the gods," she said. "It has been too long." Her eyes fluttered open. "Sorry if I hurt your ears, lover." Her smile said otherwise, though.

She sat up slowly, as if her energy was gone. "My word, that was just what I needed, Rendan," she said, kissing him gently. "My own fingers just don't do it nearly well enough," she confided.

Heather's eyes came to rest on his recovered phallus. "Looks like you may need another relief, though, my lover," she said, kissing him again, deeply and passionately.

She shifted on the bed and laid back. As he followed, he found himself laid out beside her, with his hands moving over her soft breasts and his leg lying atop hers. She smiled at him. "You sure you've never been with a woman before?" she asked. "You just did that very well, you know?"

He nodded. "I'm sure. I've only heard what I should do from friends," he answered, his voice rather quavery. "I hoped I was doing well."

Heather giggled. "When a woman grabs your head and holds you there, you're doing fine," she said. Her fingers traced a line down his chest and then belly, finally gripping his cockstem again. "Think you're ready to end your virginity, Rendan?" she asked quietly.

He nodded. "Yes, Heather, I think I am," he said, kissing her neck and starting to roll over her, holding up most of his mass on his arms. She smiled as the muscles in his arms corded taking on the weight. He rose over her, reaching down and taking his shaft in his hand.

"Go slowly, it has been a long while, lover," she said, glancing down. "And you are not particularly small, in my judgement." She grinned broadly.

He pushed downward slowly, feeling her labia part for his swollen head, then felt it enter her. He felt the slick warmth engulf him, sliding gently around his aching cock. The little muscle that held her shut opened grudgingly to his penetration and he felt the ring as it moved up his shaft. "You are tight," he said. "How long has it been?" He could feel the contractions of that little ring around him, squeezing him tightly. He opened his eyes to regard her as she looked up at him. Her face was a mixture of pleasure and pain, and joy.

She turned a little pink, then finally said. "A long while. Twenty years," she murmured quietly.

He gaped a moment. "Surely you can..," he stammered, then said. "Oh." His own face flushing. "I would have never guessed."

She smiled gently as he finally reached his depth within her. "You will when you pull forth, for I imagine I've marked you," she said, trying not to giggle.

He pulled out partially, and indeed there was blood on his organ. "But you spoke as if quite experienced," he said, slipping back into her, eliciting a gasp from her and the look of pain lessened on her face.

She shrugged. "You were embarrassed about it, why should I not be?" she said in a near whisper. "And I'm a veteran of two years."

He slowly began to set a slow, gentle rhythm within her. "But why me? Why tonight?" he asked, still rather stunned.

She did giggle this time. "I wanted someone who wouldn't know better, and suspected you were a virgin," she said. "And I heard the corporal talking about me." Her face darkened with the memory, but was soon marked with pleasure again as he slipped back into her. "So I decided that as soon as I could get you alone, if you were willing, to take care of it." She smiled. "I want the rumors to end." She gasped as he pushed into her a bit more forcefully. "Please end them for me." She began pushing upward, meeting his more insistent thrusts.

He blinked as he pushed into her again. "But you said you wanted a man who kept quiet," he said.

"I lied. I want you to brag of your conquest high and low." She grunted as the pain was finally gone and an eagerness overtook her, feeling a tightening in her loins as she was climbing toward another release. "My continued company is reliant upon you making it very obvious you and I are close, lover," she said. "Otherwise I will find a prouder companion."

He said, "I will tell them." He could feel his own orgasm approaching as well. "And I'll clobber the corporal if he keeps telling his tales about you."

She grinned. "You will not, just make it clear that I am yours, I will definitely go along with it," she said. "Besides, if I keep having orgasms like these with you, you'll have to use a crowbar to pry me from your leg." She started to arch her back again. "Faster, lover," she commanded.

He redoubled his efforts, abandoning all pretense of gentleness. Thrusting into her like an animal. He started to grunt as he pushed his swollen cockstem into her tight opening, and she started to grunt in return, angling her pelvis up to take him deeper into her.

She let loose with her second orgasm by grabbing him close with both arms, and biting his shoulder as she climaxed, muffling the scream. The added stimulation of her climaxing and the delicious pain of her bite drove him over the edge and he came right after her, spilling his seed into her in great, painful spurts. He groaned as the last of them flowed forth, and his muscles all released from the locked pose they had adopted. Finally, he collapsed onto her, and she embraced him. "You don't have to hold yourself aloft the whole time, Rendan," she said, nearly purring with contentment. He could feel her shift beneath him, and then she sighed as they found the perfect position for him to lie atop her. Her hands ran down his sides. "I think I chose well." She said.

He smiled into her thick hair. "Did you?" he asked.

She said, "You are a good man, the dogs told me when they did not take more coaxing to accept you." She kissed his neck. "You will not hurt me, will you?"

Rendan raised up onto his arms again. "Of course I won't, Heather," he said. "While I cannot lay claim to anything as high as love so quickly, I respect you, and feel nothing but warm feelings for you." He smirked slightly. "Love is a word that comes easily when in this position, though." He looked at their still-joined pelvises.

She grinned up at him. "Indeed it does, for I find it floating in my mind, too, Rendan." His organ was losing its stiffness and it slowly slipped out of her tight opening. She kissed his arm as he moved off of her, unsure what to do now. She gripped his wrist and prevented him leaving the bed. "Do not go," she said, her eyes imploring.

He smiled weakly. "Heather, it will be dawn in a few short hours, and I have training to attend in the morning."

She smiled weakly. "I know, I'm your instructor for this morning's lessons." She touched his hand, then rose from the bed. "I will be right back." She slipped on the gown she had been wearing and went out the door, returning a few moments later. "You have been vouched for now. The guards will relay the message that you volunteered to train last night and need no duty today, at least until afternoon."

"What was I supposed to learn, then?" he asked as she stripped off the gown and snuggled into the bed beside him, pressing her compact frame to his body.

"You were to learn how to get along with the dogs," she said, her eyes shut and murmuring into his neck. "Somehow, I feel they will not have any problem with you now." He felt her smile gently. "They will know you are my prime male."

* * * * * * *

The dogs did not have any problems with him. Quite to the contrary, he got along very well with them. At his and Heather's request, he was assigned as her apprentice handler for the beasts, and continued his infantry training as well. After two months, he was fully inducted into the company, earning the rank of private, and being permanently assigned as a dog handler.

She began to instruct him on the training and commanding of the dogs. It was complicated, especially learning the whistle-codes she had taught them. The dogs were incredibly obedient, though, and when he issued the wrong code it was quite obvious. One poor soldier was hurt somewhat when he gave the 'maim' command instead of the 'leave loose' command. However, she had stopped it before it got any worse than a few stitches and a harrowing tale to tell about the campfire.

The rumors from the corporal stopped when the gossip about the camp began to include sordid details of the pair's couplings, including Rendan's stripping Heather of her maidenhood and her subsequent infatuation with him. His esteem went up among the other privates, and even a few corporals felt he had earned a distinguished place, having bedded the elusive Hellhound woman. Her regard elevated as well, as the men started treating her a bit more like a normal woman, though now a taken one, rather than some mysterious witch or worse.

Their first battle side by side went well, with Rendan controlling his assigned beasts well, if not flawlessly. He watched as their hounds went into action, moving like black bolts of lightning among their companies' ranks and always seeming to be where they were needed at that moment. A soldier, about to be overborne by a barbarian warrior, would find his foe suddenly assailed by two or more hounds, his enemy's weapon arm useless as the massive dogs' jaws reduced the barbarian's wrist to crushed bone and half-chewed meat. Or worse, the poor soldier would be bathed in the blood of his foe as one dog ripped his throat out in a gory shower, and the other hamstrung the opponent from behind.

The two worked well together. Her slight stature and lack of massive muscles led her to be considered somewhat a weak point in the line, but now she had a partner in battle who was much larger, and proved to be a competent spearman himself, wielding his long warspear with adeptness and considerable vigor.

The captain was not sure he approved their closeness, but knew that together they were quickly amounting to more than the sum of their parts, and he was not a foolish commander, and let what worked do what it was doing, namely, work. He took the lad aside one day though, and let him know that he was expected to deport himself as a soldier first and foremost, despite his feelings for Heather, or her for him. The lad agreed readily enough, and there were no real problems with the arrangement, and he liked that Heather was finally being given the full measure of respect by his men that she duly deserved.

* * * * * * *

Epilogue

The feasting hall was ornate and lofty, with trophies of the many victories of the 'Hellhound Company' decorating the walls. They had yet to taste defeat, since their inception, some twenty years before, despite being thrust into some of the most lopsided battles that were ever fought. Men were arrayed about the tables, and they quietly awaited the command to sit and drink. Behind each man sat a massive mastiff, black as jet and as disciplined as the soldiers.

General Heather Bitteroot stood at the head of the longest table, raising her mug. "Again, we celebrate victory," she pronounced, lifting her glass high. "We give thanks, as always, to our companions in all our endeavors and the source of our triumph!"

She nodded and great platters of steak were brought into the dining hall. A steak was placed before each hound and the dogs looked at the meat longingly, but waited for their permission to eat.

Heather whistled three bars and the dogs attacked their meals. "To the Hellhounds!" she called out. Her cry was echoed by five hundreds of voices as the troops, male and female, raised their glasses high. The dogs left off their meals for a moment to bay at the ceiling along with the soldiers.

When the hubbub died down and everyone was seated to enjoy the victory feast, her second in command, Colonel Rendan, sidled up beside her. "Well, general, another victory for your rod," he said appreciatively while kissing her neck.

"Down boy," she said, but without any enthusiasm for the negative command. A few troopers looked toward her and her husband of eighteen years. "Only unit like it, isn't it?" she asked.

"Married couples fighting with warhounds," he mused, "I should think so, yes."

One did not just join the Hellhounds, one married into them, and they were very selective when replacing the rare couple that both fell in the same battle. Two hundred and fifty married couples formed the cadre, the fighting arm of the company. Most enemy units yielded the field upon discovering who their opponents would be that day.

"Tonight?" asked Rendan, eyeing her lasciviously. Though both were now forty years of age, they still mated like excitable rabbits.

"Have you been a good boy?" she asked.

He nodded at her and smiled. "Yes, ma'am, everyone in the regiment knows I've been making time with you, as per your standing orders."

She scratched his hair, just behind his ear. "Good boy," she said.

THE END

Copyright � Mack The Knife 2005

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