Storiesonline.net ------- Chandler's Ride by Lazlo Zalezac Copyright© 2005 by Lazlo Zalezac ------- Description: Malcolm Charles Chandler is a rather quiet man and good neighbor who occasionally takes a trip through a portal to another world -- Crossroads. His caretaker, Alice, sends him on an adventure to rescue a Damsel in Distress. The rescue goes fine, but the ride home takes a long time. Codes: MF slow ScFi rom cons ------- ------- Copyright© Lazlo Zalezac, 2005 ------- Chapter 1 Malcolm Charles Chandler sat in the backyard of his suburban home watching his next door neighbors raking leaves. It was early November and the fall colors had faded weeks ago. With the loss of color came the shedding of leaves. The few remaining leaves would last until December, falling to the ground below one at a time. He chuckled at the sight of the teenage girl trying to work in the yard wearing her thick-soled shoes. They were the huge bulky soles that didn't allow her to walk without looking like some sort of stork. She was short and the shoes were a desperate attempt to look tall and thin. The attempt didn't work. Aloud, he said, "The ridiculous fashions these young women follow in an attempt to look sexy." He glanced down at this watch and saw that it was a little after eleven. Despite his desire to run into the house and dash through the portal, he stayed where he was. Alice Caretaker wouldn't expect him until noon and he wanted her ready for his arrival. A shiver of excitement ran through him at the thought of Alice. Looking over at the girl next door, he thought about how much she could learn from Alice. The girl wasn't the only woman he knew who could learn a lot from Alice. The women of Cassandra had spoiled him for Earth women. The girl next door could probably be taught how to act like a real woman, but at her age he thought it highly unlikely. Sighing, he knew that a thirty-two year old man shouldn't be thinking things like that about sixteen year old girls. It was just so tough living a whole month without female companionship. Not having a girlfriend here had some unexpected consequences. More than a few people thought he was gay. Even though he knew the truth of the matter, it bothered him that others had an incorrect impression of him. He looked back at the house next door and noticed Jack heading his way. From the way his neighbor was approaching, it was clear the man wanted something. Of course, the fact that his neighbor was approaching was sufficient to mean the man wanted something. He stood to greet his neighbor. "Hello, Jack. I see you're cleaning up leaves." "Oh, yeah. That time of year, you know," answered the neighbor looking around Malcolm's spotless yard. He didn't know how the man did it, but his yard was always spotless. His wife made it a point to mention the immaculate backyard as part of her campaign to get him to take greater care of their yard. "Seems you're a little late this year," commented Malcolm looking around at the yards around them. Jack was always the last one on the block to take care of his yard. "Uh, yeah. You know how it is." "Yeah," answered Malcolm despite the fact that he didn't know. He didn't understand why anyone would intentionally live an undisciplined life. "I was wondering..." 'Here it comes, ' thought Malcolm with a mental grin. Jack was nice, but he always asking for favors. He looked up at Jack and asked, "What can I do for you?" "You teach Karate, don't you?" asked Jack believing that he knew the answer. "I teach Aikido." "Same thing," replied Jack with the common assurance with which novices discounted the differences among the various forms of martial arts. Malcolm smiled at the ignorant remark and said, "Not quite the same thing." "Yeah, but you teach people how to defend themselves. Right?" "Among other things," Malcolm answered. Discipline, concentration, self-control, and physical fitness were important lessons, but few students could deny that his primary emphasis was on spiritual growth. Although self-defense was the least of what he taught in his dojo, it was the self-defense aspects of the martial arts that attracted students. "Well, my kid is dating and I want to make sure that she can rip the testicles off any guy who tries anything with her," Jack said trying to convey an aggressive attitude while making the comment. The fact of the matter was that he was worried about his daughter. As a result of watching a special on the nightly news, he had learned that date rape was very common among teenagers. When he had asked his daughter about it, she had admitted that she knew of some girls who had been forced into doing things they didn't want to do. Malcolm stared up at the sky for a moment and considered telling him that they didn't teach that until the third year, but resisted the temptation. Instead, he replied, "Hmmm, I don't recall teaching any lessons on ripping testicles off men. Nope, that's not one of the things I teach people in my dojo." "Shit man, you know what I mean. There are assholes out there that who will hurt my little girl the first chance they get. I want her able to defend herself," Jack argued. "I only accept students who want to learn. If they are minors, then their parents must understand that the rate a student progresses depends upon the student and not the instructor. I've had too many parents counting the months that a student takes to progress from one level to the next," said Malcolm. "Oh, she'll learn alright. I'll see to that," Jack said with authority. "Then I won't accept her as a student," said Malcolm as he checked his watch. He didn't accept students whose parents tried to establish their rate of progress. He didn't like parents watching. Nothing was worse than a parent demanding that their kid drill when it was more appropriate for the student to observe the drill. "Come on, man. I'm desperate here." Jack was rather surprised by the refusal and resorted to begging. Malcolm glanced at his watch. It was time for him to leave for Crossroads, he said, "I've got to go in the house for a half an hour. When I come out, have her come over and ask to be admitted to the dojo for a visit. If I am convinced that she will learn, then I will accept her as a guest to my dojo. It will be up to her when she starts training." "Huh?" Malcolm smiled at his neighbor's confusion and said, "That is the way we learn Aikido. The discipline comes from within rather than imposed from outside." "Okay," Jack stammered, not understanding what Malcolm was saying. He decided that it was a strange way for the man to run a business. What he didn't understand, was that Malcolm viewed his dojo as a way for him to continue training instead of being a business. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have something important to do," Malcolm said. He turned and headed towards his house without waiting for a response. It was approaching the time for him to leave for Crossroads and there was no way he would keep Alice Caretaker waiting. On his way to the door, he spotted a stray leaf and picked up it. He took a short detour to deposit the leaf in a trashcan. The yard was once again leaf-free when he entered the house. Jack stared at the door after it had closed behind Malcolm. For a moment, he wondered if Jack had picked up the leaves one at a time when they had fallen. Malcolm lived in a three-bedroom house. The master bedroom was used for its intended purpose and its contents reflected that. It contained a king-sized bed and a plain dresser. One wall had two doors; one to a closet and the other to a bathroom. Its Spartan décor would be jarring to any woman who entered the room, but such an occasion had not yet occurred. Another bedroom was used as a meditation room and was decorated with the intent of providing a tranquil atmosphere. A small table upon which incense could be burned was to one side of the room. A small mat on which he could kneel was placed before the table. Two stands, capable of holding fifty candles each, lined the walls. The third room, and the most important room of the house as far as Malcolm was concerned, was empty except for his most prized possession -- a full size mirror. The mirror was mounted inside an ornate handmade frame of apple wood. Once each week, he entered the room for the purpose of cleaning it. He entered the room once a month for the purpose of using it for its intended purpose. Upon entering the house, Malcolm removed his shoes and then went to his special room. He stood in front of the mirror and studied his reflection. The image presented to him was of a thirty- two year old man in good health. Standing at 5'10" in height, he weighed a compact 168 pounds of muscle. His black hair was cut short in a military style and looked appropriate for his square face. Looking at himself, he said, "I have no idea what she sees in me." He stripped, removing his clothes with care, folded each item, and placed it on a neat pile. Once he was naked, he paused to examine himself in the mirror one last time. He stepped forward and grasped the right edge of the mirror. Pulling on it, the mirror swung away from the frame. Smiling at the thought of what waited for him on the other side of the portal, his hand dropped down to wrap around his cock as it slowly began to get erect. He stepped through the portal even as his cock continued to grow larger. There was a small delay in the portal room of Crossroads before the door to the main living area swung open. Malcolm stepped through the door as his eyes sought out Alice. It took him less than a second to locate a very naked Alice waiting five paces from the door. His breath caught in his chest at the sight of her. She was a pixie, barely 5' tall and 90 pounds with short black hair. She wasn't a waif in the fashion model sense - her body retained all of the appropriate curves and softness of a woman. It was just that she was a small woman. Seeing Malcolm, she released her breath in a scream of joy and burst into a smile. She jumped up and down for a second with the result that her pert breasts bounced in a very attractive manner. As she twisted slightly, he was treated to flashes of her neatly trimmed pubic hair. His cock became hard as iron at the sight of the vision of loveliness in front of him. Giggling at the sight of her naked man, Alice raced across the room and launched herself at him. He caught her as she wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. With the kind of smoothness that came from practice, she lowered herself onto his cock and sighed with pleasure as it filled her. She cooed, "It's so good to feel you in me once again, my Hero." "I've missed you so much," Malcolm said even as his lips sought hers. They kissed with the passion of lovers kept apart for a month. Their tongues battled like gladiators in a Roman coliseum, but without lethal intent. Their groans rose with their passions. Malcolm held her tightly to his chest enjoying the feel of her breasts crushed against him and her cunt holding his cock within its depths. She contracted and relaxed her vaginal muscles; milking him in a manner that often caused him to come within minutes. She broke off the kiss as she threw her head back and screamed in orgasm. Like all women of Cassandra, Alice was able to achieve orgasm with great ease. He started to thrust into her by lifting and lowering her body. There was a sudden fluttering of her muscles around his cock as a second orgasm washed over her. Never had he encountered such a talented lover. He wondered, even as he came within her, what he had done to deserve such a wonderful woman. Still holding her in his arms, he made his way towards the bedroom. The door opened automatically for the couple. Reaching the bed, he climbed onto it on his knees. He adjusted his hold to her hips. She released her hands from around his neck and slowly arched back until her shoulders rested upon the bed. She came with his first forceful thrust into her. Malcolm held her bottom off the bed and proceeded to make love to her with hard forceful thrusts. Her arms flew out to the bed. She grasped the sheets in her hands and twisted them as her excitement drove her to continual orgasm. She screamed, moaned, whimpered, and sighed without knowing which of them she was doing. Time passed, but the lovers didn't track it or care. Nearing the limits of his strength and stamina, Malcolm thrust into her a final time. He moaned. His body shuddered. His toes curled. He released his seed deep into her. It was an orgasm that came from deep within his body and took over all awareness. Exhausted, he released her and fell to the bed beside her. He woke several hours later to find Alice seated beside him where she had been watching him sleep. Smiling at him, she held out a small glass of restorative and said, "I've never understood how anyone can give me so much pleasure. Every time you come here I find that I am amazed." "You inspire me," he said as he accepted the glass of restorative. He downed it in one sip and immediately felt refreshed. He threw the glass into the air and watched as it disappeared. She giggled, "You just love to do that." "Yeah. One of these days I'm going to figure how it does it." It was so good to have him there beside her. Alice lay down on the bed and placed her head on his chest. He wrapped an arm around her and held her tight to him. Her small body fit comfortably against his. These were the times that he loved the most. She shifted, burrowing against his body with a contented sigh. She said, "I've missed you so much." "A month is too long." "It is made worse for you because you don't have a woman there on Earth. Why don't you take one?" This was a reoccurring topic of discussion and always occurred shortly after his arrival to Crossroads. The time before leaving on an adventure was the only time when they would be alone and able to relax. Alice wanted Malcolm to take a woman on Earth to ease the time they spent separated. He knew she was convinced that he would return to her better rested and stronger. He didn't think a woman on Earth could match her. He sighed upon thinking about his past experiences with Earth women. "I'd feel guilty being with her and not you." "You are a virile man. You need a woman," she said. She ran her hand over his chest enjoying the feel of his chest hairs. She inhaled his masculine scent amazed that a man could smell so good. It relaxed her and made her feel comforted. "I have a woman. Her name is Alice and she's all the woman I need." Alice giggled at the comment, but turned serious when she said, "You could have a hundred women and satisfy them all. Don't limit yourself to me." Deciding that it was time to change the subject, he groped for a new topic. Looking around the room, he took in the fact that it was no longer white on white. There were now colors and textures. It was a major change and, after six years of living with the old look, was very appreciated. He said, "I love how you've decorated the room." "I'm glad you like it. Ever since that new Hero suggested that we request the User's Manual, all of the Caretakers have redecorated their apartments." "What's the name of this new Hero?" Malcolm was curious about the identity of the new hero, but wasn't all that concerned with meeting him. "Sid Jones," she answered. "Any relation to Gerald Jones?" he asked, knowing that it was highly likely that the last name was just a co-incidence. "His nephew. Gerald died a couple months ago," she replied. Malcolm stroked her hair with his hand as he thought about the news. He'd met Gerald on a couple of occasions and had liked the man. Feeling a true sense of loss, he said, "He'll be missed." "Yes, he shall. He was the greatest of all the Heroes." He knew better than to argue the point, particularly since he believed it as well. Gerald had taken an adventure every other week and had done so for over forty years. It was difficult for a young man to survive an adventure. The average new Hero lasted about six adventures. Someone almost seventy surviving so many encounters was incredible. Nodding his head, he said, "Yes, he was." "He trained his nephew." "This Sid fellow, how is he?" asked Malcolm wondering how long the new Hero would survive. The fact that Gerald had trained him suggested that he might last a bit longer than the average new hero did. "He's good. All the damsels he has rescued are singing his praises. They say he's very good in bed," answered Alice knowing full well that isn't what he meant. "I swear, the women of Cassandra are obsessed with sex," complained Malcolm with a grin. It always amazed him how focused Alice and the Damsels were when it came to sex. It was their favorite topic and their comments usually left him blushing. "And you love it!" Chuckling, he replied, "Of course. Now tell me, how is he?" "He was wounded on his last adventure. Got cut with a poisoned knife." Alice felt that someone who was wounded that early in their career didn't really stand much of a chance of surviving long as a Hero. A good Caretaker made sure her charge was given easy missions. Early injuries suggested a careless Caretaker or an unskilled Hero; either of which meant that a hero wouldn't last long. "Oh." That wasn't good news. "He came back saying that the guy was the most dangerous man that he'd ever met. I researched the villain and didn't see anything to suggest that he was that dangerous even if he did manage to kill a Hero. I'm not sure that Sid's going to last long as a Hero. I feel kind of sorry for Sally Caretaker." Hearing that a Hero had been killed, Malcolm sat up, displacing Alice in the process. Surprised that she didn't take a man responsible for killing a Hero seriously, he asked, "The villain killed a Hero?" "Yes," she answered surprised by his sudden interest in the last adventure of Sid Jones. Normally, she would have been a little upset at the fact that he was sitting up rather than serving as a pillow, but she could sense his excitement was based on something important that she had missed. "What is the name of the villain?" "Chirurgen," answered Alice with a negligent shrug of her shoulders. "Are you kidding me? He killed the Surgeon?" asked Malcolm shocked at hearing the name. There was a good reason for his shocked reaction. He had encountered the man once in the past and had seen him take apart an opponent in a knife fight. It had been a slow painful process in which the victim never had a chance. "His name is Chirurgen and Sid didn't kill him, just knocked him unconscious." "Chirurgen is his contact name. Everyone on Chaos knows him as the Surgeon. He got that name because he carves up his opponents with the kind of precision that a doctor would use in an operation. He's a very deadly opponent in a fight," explained Malcolm. The idea that a Hero with less than a year's worth of experience would be given a mission against the Surgeon was idiocy at the highest level. "I looked up that mission myself to give it to you, but he took it first. I didn't see anything to suggest the man was extremely dangerous," replied Alice wondering how she could have missed the information that Malcolm knew about the Chirurgen. It bothered her that she could have missed something important. Frowning, Malcolm wondered how a novice was sent into such a dangerous mission. In light of the news, he decided that Sid Jones stood a very good chance of lasting as long as his uncle had. Shaking his head in wonder, he said, "I think Sid will be around for quite a while." "Well, he is shaking things up in other ways. He asked Sally Caretaker to request a rulebook and she got a list of them," said Alice with a smile. She'd spent that past week studying the rules. "There's a rulebook?" "Several of them," Alice answered. "It turns out that according to the rules, you're not allowed to kill a dragon." The existence of a clear set of rules stunned Malcolm. He knew that heroes had to act heroic, but there had never been a clear definition of what that meant. "I'm not allowed to kill a dragon?" "That's right." "So that's why I was never allowed to rescue a Damsel from a dragon." He considered the existence of a rulebook for a few minutes, but his thoughts soon returned to the fight between Sid and the Surgeon. Considering that Alice was able to replay all fights in which he participated, he wondered if he could see the fights of other Heroes. Deciding that it wouldn't hurt, he asked, "Can I see a recording of the fight between Sid and the Surgeon?" "I don't know," answered Alice. The abrupt change in topic reminded her of the failure by Sally Caretaker to identify the actual identity of the villain. Sally Caretaker wasn't the only one who had failed. She wanted to discover how she had missed the information. Biting her lower lip, she considered her options carefully. She had never tried to watch another Hero and wondered if there was an ethical problem with doing so. She stood up and said, "Excuse me for a minute." Malcolm watched as Alice left the room knowing she was going to determine if she was able to comply with his request. After four years of dealing with Alice, he knew it could take some time for him to get an answer. The planet of Cassandra had a huge bureaucracy through which the women managed what happened on Crossroads. He imagined the rulebooks discovered by Sid had caused some major problems for the bureaucrats. The selection of damsels, caretakers, and supporting staff was an integral part of the politics on Cassandra because the future of the race depended upon successful adventures in Chaos. Over time, they had discovered which traits allowed Damsels to survive their adventures, what characteristics of the caretakers enticed Heroes to return time after time, and how to select those individuals without creating riots on Cassandra. His thoughts returned to Sid and his adventure against the Surgeon. If he was any judge of character, Sid had made an enemy for life. That was bad. The Surgeon was the kind of man who would hunt Sid down for the purpose of slicing him to pieces. He realized that someone would need to warn Sid about the Surgeon. Malcolm was lost in his thoughts when Alice returned to the room. She was visibly upset by what she had discovered. In a soft voice, she said, "You were right. I looked up the Surgeon and discovered that he was the same man as Chirurgen. I saw that but didn't realize there was more information about him under Surgeon. I'd have sent you out there totally unprepared." "Don't worry about it." It was very rare when a Caretaker made a mistake. The bureaucracy of Cassandra would study how the error occurred. They'd try to identify procedures to prevent it from happening again. He knew Alice and Sally would have some unpleasant days ahead of them. It was time to change the topic of conversation. "So what about these rulebooks?" Looking up at the ceiling, Alice said, "Rulebooks for Heroes and Hero Companions." "Hero Companions?" "Yes. It appears that you can take an Earth woman with you to Chaos to serve as a caretaker while you are there." Alice hoped the news would prompt Malcolm into finding a nice Earth woman to take care of him while he was away from Crossroads. She knew that historically, heroes, without exception, spent their lives on Earth without the company of a loving woman. She was convinced that for men as virile as Heroes such a life would be torture. "Why would I want to do that?" asked Malcolm. He couldn't imagine why he would want to drag a woman through a medieval world. A picture of the neighbor girl hiking through the wilderness in her 'stork walkers' flashed through his mind and he chuckled. "I'd rather wear a blindfold in a sword fight than take an Earth woman to Chaos." Alice knelt in front of Malcolm and took his cock into her hands. She fondled it gently to make sure she had his full attention. In a voice that was as soft as her touch, she said, "You Heroes live your lives on Earth all alone. It's not right. You need to find an Earth woman to take care of you while you are there. You need to take her to Chaos so that she'll understand the importance of the adventures." "I have you and that is all I need." "No, it's not. You could easily spend thirty years alone." Tears started to form in her eyes at the thought of Malcolm living a lonely life. She stroked his cock and whispered, "Promise me that you will look for a companion." Malcolm had come to love Alice with his whole being. Even sleeping with the Damsels had become a chore for him since he would rather have spent the time and passion with her. The Damsels were the price he had to pay to visit Alice and he paid it without complaint. He stroked her cheek as he said, "You are all that I need." Tears flowing down her cheeks, she replied, "You are wrong. I may be all that you want, but you need more than just me." "What need?" "What need? You need someone to take care of you when you are ill. You need someone to talk with and pass the hours of the day. You need someone to give your life meaning on Earth," answered Alice resuming her attention to his half-erect cock. Getting irritated at her continued insistence that he find an Earth woman, he said, "The meaning of my life is to be found right here in your arms. There isn't an Earth woman as feminine as you." Alice was silent for a minute as she thought about what he had said. She smiled as an idea came to her. "You think you need a woman like me as your lover on Earth. I think you need a woman who is the opposite of me." As if to emphasize her point, she held his cock a little more roughly. Surprised, Malcolm said, "The opposite of you? You mean an ugly old hag?" "No, silly. You need an outdoorswoman who can camp, hike, and even fight," she answered realizing as she spoke that she was right. A lady such as herself wouldn't enjoy participating in an adventure on Chaos. It was an interesting idea and one that hadn't occurred to Malcolm. He'd compared all Earth women to Alice and they had come up short. Perhaps he had been looking at it the wrong way. He should have looked at the Earth women and seen how they came up different. Nodding his head, he said, "Maybe you're right." Her heart leapt in her chest at his words. Knowing that to say anything would only diminish the result she had achieved, she slipped his cock in her mouth before he could come up with some objection. Her actions at silencing his objections were more than successful. ------- Chapter 2 Alice shook her head and argued, "It may be a simple mission, but it is the only one that I have for you." Confused by only having a single mission from which to choose, Malcolm said, "There must be more than one Damsel in Distress." "This is the only mission that can be taken at this time," answered Alice. She didn't want to tell him the reason for it. "Why is it that I don't believe you?" asked Malcolm looking at Alice through eyes that had narrowed into slits. Her manner reminded him of his early missions where she often chose opponents and missions that were well below his abilities. "It is the only mission that you can undertake now," answered Alice. At the look on his face, she said, "Look. She's not the only Damsel in Distress. There are some others, but none of the Heroes are to go after them until the Caretakers decide how to address the situation." "What's the big deal? You tell me where she is, I study the situation, formulate a plan, and then rescue her," said Malcolm. Alice wondered how she could put the situation into a proper context. She said, "There are at least ten thousand villains involved. It is bigger than one Hero." The idea that a Caretaker would admit that a situation was bigger than one Hero was shocking. If she and the other Caretakers believed that, then he would get no help in trying to rescue the Damsel. Abruptly he asked, "So tell me about this Damsel I'm supposed to rescue?" "Lilly was kidnapped by a villain named Derek and is being held for a thousand conch ransom. There's a man who is willing to pay her ransom in the hope that she'll marry him, but the odds are good that Derek will kill her even if the ransom is paid. He's done that before." "So she is truly in distress. That's good to know. Tell me what I need to know about this Derek guy." Now that they were discussing the adventure that he was to undertake, Malcolm became totally focused on the briefing. Alice began to give a background history of Derek. It was a strange tale of a son of a rich man falling into a lifestyle of depravity. Even as a teenager, women tended to disappear in the area where he was living. When his father cut off his funds, Derek began his career of kidnapping for ransom. After one of his victims attempted to get even, Derek stopped releasing his victims even after receiving the ransom. In terms of skills at fighting, Derek wasn't much of a threat. The problem was that he protected himself with the kind of care that only a true paranoid personality could afford. His current place was actually surrounded by a moat filled with dangerous animals. The area between the moat and the house was totally barren. Five very vicious dogs patrolled the area. Alice had discovered evidence that Derek even had bobby traps inside his house. Malcolm wondered how to approach Derek that assured a reasonable chance of success. He wasn't going to be able to attack him at the house since Derek was prepared for any kind of approach to the property. Surprise would not be possible with five dogs running loose on the property. Alice brought up maps of the area for Malcolm to study and he spent hours going over every inch of the maps. He was the type of Hero who entered a situation knowing as much as was humanly possible. He didn't like surprises and would rather arrive late than dead. He felt that there was nothing heroic about rushing into a situation unprepared. There was another word for that - foolish. Alice watched Malcolm study the briefing material. Her time with him had taught her that an interruption for something as simple as a meal would not be appreciated. She waited patiently watching for the signs that he was done so that she could order the bath to be prepared. When the expression on his face changed, she knew he was slowly extracting himself from the material. She looked up to the ceiling and said, "Draw a bath." Malcolm sighed and sat back with a thoughtful expression on his face. She had done her normal outstanding job of acquiring data about the villain. Turning to Alice, he said, "I'll need to think about it overnight. Perhaps an idea will come to me." "Our bath is ready, my Hero." Shaking his head, he replied, "I don't understand how you can always have the bath ready for me as soon as I finish going over the material." He stood and walked over to where Alice stood. With ease, he picked her up and carried her in his arms to the bathroom. She giggled in pleasure at the ease with which he held her. The doors opened automatically as they made their way to the bath. It took little effort for the robes they wore to be dropped onto the floor and vanish. Holding Alice in his arms, he entered the bath. It was the size of a ten person Jacuzzi, but only two feet deep. Alice kissed him gently. He set her down so that he could caress the rest of her body, but she stepped out of his reach. Alice proceeded to bathe his body with a soapy sponge using soft strokes that hinted at pleasures to come. Malcolm considered how rare it was for a man to be treated with such tenderness. In the movies on Earth, it was the man who bathed and pampered the woman. In a way, the reversal of roles seemed wrong to him, but for the moment he enjoyed the feelings knowing that he would have his turn at bathing and pampering her. Malcolm kissed Alice one last time and stepped into the portal to transition to Chaos. The days spent preparing for the adventure had come to an end. Along with it, the time to bid farewell to his caretaker had come. There was the normal sensation that accompanied the shift to Chaos and he looked around at the small room of the bank. He stuck his finger in the hole and watched as his container appeared on the table. Opening it, he examined the contents. His first act was to grab a knife and slip it into his belt. Now that he was armed, he could afford to take his time selecting what he would take on this mission. He grabbed his coin purse and added that to his belt. With a weapon and money, he could thrive on Chaos. Looking over his stock, he took out the morning star, a spiked lead ball attached to a wooden handle by a long chain. It wasn't only lethal looking; it was a lethal weapon. One blow could shatter bones and pulverize internal organs. He considered taking it, but decided that such an obvious weapon would scare away his prey. He set it back in the container. He picked up the four-foot stick and decided that it didn't look lethal enough. A truly paranoid man would figure it held a sword. The paranoid man would be nearly correct. It contained a core of iron that made it an extremely dangerous weapon. He put it back and considered his choices once again. The weapon required would have to be dangerous enough to be believable and not so dangerous to scare away the villain. Smiling, he picked up the short war axe. It was perfect. The short handle would put him at a disadvantage against a sword. A shield would blunt its effectiveness. It was the kind of weapon one would expect in the hands of a larger man. He grabbed his saddlebag, saddle, and gear from the container. He closed it and watched as it disappeared. Opening the door, he left the small room. As always, he wondered how it was that nobody seemed to notice a man carrying a saddle suddenly showing up in a bank. He stepped outside and took in his surroundings. The smell of humanity assaulted his nose and he knew it would take a day before he would stop noticing the stench. The stable was just down the dirt street from the bank. He turned and headed towards it taking care to avoid the piles of manure, puddles of urine, and trash that lined the street. If there were a horse to be purchased in the area, then the stable was the place to find it. The building looked as if it had seen better days. There were a couple of horses in the corral, none of which looked exceptional. Entering the building, Malcolm called out, "Hello?" An old man carrying a pitchfork backed out of one of the stalls. He looked over at Malcolm and took note of the saddle knowing that one of his horses was about to be sold. The only question was how much money he'd get out of the deal. With a rumbling from his lungs, he brought up a glob of phlegm and spit it out on the floor of the barn. In a graveled voice, he said, "I got two horses for sale." "Let's look at what you got," said Malcolm. His eyes took in the worn tack, uneven floor, and splintered wood. He knew he wasn't going to find a racehorse in this dump. The old man led him to the corral and pointed to a dun colored horse. It was an average looking horse that appeared to be in a little better condition than Malcolm had expected to find in such a stable. The old man said, "That's the better of the two." Malcolm set his gear on the ground by the corral. Not trusting the wood to support his weight, Malcolm slipped between the rails of the corral and approached the dun. The horse let him approach without the normal nervousness indicative of a highly spirited animal. A thorough check of the horse's mouth, legs, and hooves showed that it was in good condition. Frowning at the lack of spirit, he knew that he wouldn't be able to push the horse if it came down to having to flee. He turned to the old man and asked, "What are you asking for this one?" "One conch, ten shells," answered the old man. He leaned against a post of the corral fully prepared for a long bargaining session. "I figure you paid thirty-five shells for this animal," said Malcolm. Based on the old man's reaction, he knew he had hit the amount dead on. Walking back to the fence of corral, he slipped between the slats of the corral. He picked up his saddle and said, "One conch, take it or leave it." Figuring he could get another five shells, the old man countered, "One conch, five shells." Malcolm turned and started to walk away. He'd made a fair offer for the animal and it had been rejected. The old man asked, "Where are you going?" "To the inn to eat and then to the market to get supplies," answered Malcolm knowing the man would show up at the market to accept his offer. He headed towards the inn. The old man watched him walk away. At first, he was confident that Malcolm would turn around after a few steps and accept the offer. Riding a horse would be a lot more comfortable than walking. Definitely, riding would be a lot faster than walking. With a sinking feeling in his stomach, he watched Malcolm go into the inn and knew the man would be willing to walk rather than pay even a single shell more than one conch. After eating a meat pie at the inn, Malcolm went to the market. He watched different women bargaining with the vendors. After watching for five minutes, he noticed an old woman negotiating with one of the vendors. Her sharp eyes found every flaw of his goods and her honeyed tongue had nothing except praise for hers. He watched her for a minute before approaching her. When she had finished haggling with one of the vendors, he said, "Ma'am, could I talk to you for a minute?" She paused and looked at him, studying him for a full ten seconds before she asked, "What do you want?" Holding up four pinches, he said, "I need provisions for three days on the trail." The old women looked at the coin with hungry eyes and asked, "So what do you need from me?" "Get me the provisions and whatever is left from this, is yours to keep," answered Malcolm. He knew that with her sharp trading skills, she'd be walking away two pinches at the least. She started to reach for the coins, but he stopped her when he said, "I like to eat well." "Of course, a strong young buck like you is going to want only the best," said the old woman with a chuckle. Her hand whipped out as fast as a sword thrust to grab the four pinches. A look of surprise flashed on her face when the coins weren't there. He dropped them into her hand and then handed her his saddlebag. Malcolm watched her move her way through the market. She bickered and bartered with the kind of skill that comes only after a lifetime of experience and with the intensity that came from being poor. He revised his opinion of her bartering skills. She'd come out with two pinches and a day's worth of food. The hot sun beating down on the place he was standing was becoming uncomfortable. He moved over to a shady spot and waited. The saddle and gear was beginning to get heavy and he set them on the ground at his feet. He'd only been there for five minutes when the old man from the stable showed up. The old man asked, "Are you still interested in the horse?" "I gave my offer," said Malcolm looking at the man. It was a reasonable offer and the old man knew he'd take it. Shaking his head, he said, "Okay. One conch for the dun." "Good, I'll be by later to pick it up," said Malcolm. "What are you waiting for?" asked the old man wondering why Malcolm wasn't going to get his horse immediately. "Her," said Malcolm pointing to the old woman. "Ah, the widow Appleton," said the old man. His opinion of Malcolm's ability to get the most for his money was already good. Seeing that he had chosen the old woman to do his bartering for him raised the old man's opinion of him even more. Keeping his eyes on the old woman, Malcolm didn't continue the conversation. Instead, he said, "I'll bring the conch with me when I get there." Knowing he was being dismissed, the old man turned and made his way back to the stable. He knew it would take the old woman at least two hours to barter her way through the market place. By the time the man came to get the horse, it would be almost too late for him to go. The old man chuckled at the idea of charging the man a pinch for stabling his horse for the night. Malcolm waited for the Widow Appleton to work her way across the market. She was slow, but she got good value for the money. He watched her slip items into the saddlebags, including fresh fruits, smoked meats, cheeses, small loaves of bread, sacks of dry goods, and bundles of vegetables. If he'd been in a hurry and done it himself, he'd have gotten half as much for twice as much. When she finished, she brought over a bulging saddlebag and said, "This should feed you well for three or four days." "It should indeed, ma'am. You've done a good job," Malcolm said. He slipped her an extra pinch as he added, "Here's a little something for a dark day." Looking at the coin, the Widow Appleton sighed and said, "The one good thing about my age is that the number of dark days ahead of me are less than the number behind me. Take care of yourself on the trail." "Thank you." Malcolm gathered his gear and headed towards the stable. It was still early afternoon and he could put a little distance behind him if he left immediately. The purchase of the horse didn't take long. The horse didn't balk at being saddled - a fact that sped up getting ready for the trail. Malcolm rode out of town on the sedate animal wondering if he'd make reasonable time. The horse wasn't fast, but it did move at a steady consistent pace that ate up the miles. Leaving town, he passed small truck farms. These were places that raised large vegetable gardens, fruit trees, and chickens for sale to the nearby town. A local dealer would deliver the majority of their crop to the town on behalf of the farmers. The individual would pass by in the morning in his wagon and collect goods from the individual farmers. Late in the afternoon, he'd return giving out the trade goods collected during the day while keeping a percentage. Farther away from the city, the truck farms gave way to places that raised wheat. Each wheat farm was basically identical to the next. A small house surrounded by a vegetable garden, one or two cows, a flock of chickens, and two acres of wheat behind a barn. Each had a couple rows of corn. Most had a small orchard with apple or plum trees. With hard work, each place could support a family of eight and earn enough to make minor improvements over the year. It would be easy to think these people had a good life, but it was just the opposite. Their clothes were threadbare, sanitation was an outhouse that stood beside the family well, and work lasted from sunrise to sunset. The small houses were cramped and there was no privacy. Husbands and wives had no choice but to have sex in the presence of their children, hidden from view by the darkness and a blanket. Life as a child was dangerous. Animals kicked and could cause permanent damage. Farm implements were often sharp and unwieldy for small bodies. A moment of daydreaming and the child could be injured or killed. Discipline was sharp and included frequent beatings. Those who survived their childhood were often eager to join a military group seeing it as an improvement. Childhood ended at fourteen or fifteen with marriage to a neighbor's kid. Malcolm shook his head as he rode past farm after farm. He couldn't imagine a tougher life. One bad season and food would be a problem. Every year, disease would take a few. Women died in childbirth at ages that most people where he was from would consider impossibly young. Men died as a result of accidents leaving behind young widows or a bunch of orphans. A fire would destroy everything and a family could end up starving or freezing to death over the winter. When it approached dark, Malcolm started looking for a good place to camp out for the night. He was giving up hope of a good spot with fresh water when he finally came across a mill beside a river. The horse, as if it knew his thoughts, came to a halt outside the gate. A short squatty man came out of the mill and approached the gate. He called out, "Hello. I'm Eric the Miller." "I'm Malcolm. I need a place to camp out for the night. May I camp over there by the river?" "It'll cost you a pinch, but for that I'll have one of the kids bring out a bowl of stew," answered the Miller. It was not a common practice to charge for a good campsite, but usually people would offer a barn and food for a pinch or trade goods. Malcolm nodded his agreement and said, "That will be fine Eric the Miller." "There's a fire ring down there. Use that. I also have a stack of firewood that you can use, just keep the fire low. If I see it burning too big, I'll put it out myself. You can fish in the river for breakfast if you should need it." "Thanks," Malcolm said feeling a little better about the pinch charge for the campsite. He pulled out a pinch and threw it to the Miller. The man caught it in midair. It took some time to take care of the horse and set up camp. After watering the horse at the stream, he hobbled it so that it could graze without running off. His bedroll went directly on the ground. Looking up at the sky, he decided not to set up the tarp. The one task that he hated more than any other was starting the fire with a flint. Despite years of practice, it always took him longer to do that than anyone else he ever met. After a few nasty comments about a world that hadn't yet invented matches, he had a small fire going. Since he wasn't going to be cooking, it didn't need to be large. Malcolm had just finished setting up camp when a boy about ten years old came out with a bowl of stew. Handing over the bowl of stew, the boy said, "I'm David, the Miller's son." "Hello David," Malcolm said. He looked at the bowl and saw that the boy had probably spilled a little of it while carrying it out. It didn't matter, he'd eat some of his bread and fruit to complete the meal. "You're an adventurer, aren't you?" "I guess you could say that." "Can I come with you? I'm a good hard worker. I know how to cook and clean up. I can take care of horses." It was not an uncommon request and Malcolm knew how to deal with it. Lots of boys in the country dreamed of becoming an adventurer and becoming rich. Somehow, few of them understood what it took to become rich as an adventurer or just how dangerous a lifestyle it was. Malcolm said, "David, I fear that you are a little young yet." "I'm not so young," countered the boy trying to look larger than he was. "Can't wait to start splitting men's skulls with an axe, huh? Of course, that would be if you were lucky. Most likely, someone your size and strength would have your skull split in two in the first fight. That's what happened to the last three boys that I took with me." "Uh, the last three?" "Yep. It was a shame about the last one too. He was a good fuck," Malcolm said with a smile. Usually that was the line that made the boys change their mind about joining up with him. The boy back peddled and said, "Maybe when I'm older. Wash the bowl and put it by the fire ring. I'll pick it up in the morning." Malcolm smiled as the boy headed back towards the house at a fast walk. He knew it would be years before the kid approached another adventurer about joining up. It would be for the best. At least the kid stood a reasonable chance of seeing his next birthday staying at the Mill. He turned his attention to the bowl of stew. He could only guess what kind of meat was in it, probably muskrat. He pulled out one of the small loaves of bread that the Widow Appleton had gotten for him. It was still fresh. In a day it would be hard as a rock and he'd have to soak it to be edible. He ate thinking he'd had worse meals and he'd had better. For trail fare, it wasn't that bad. Of course, being outdoors all day tended to make even the worst meal taste better. After eating, he washed the bowl in the stream and carried it back to the fire ring. He returned to the stream and looked at it. He'd forgotten to ask if it had leaches in it. Shaking his head, he stripped and waded out into the water until it came up to his knees. He stood there for a few minutes and waded back to the shore. Once there, he examined his legs and feet. Swearing, he pulled off one of the black bloodsuckers. Aloud, he said, "No bath tonight." After double-checking for additional leeches, he dressed and returned to the fire. Looking through his saddlebag, he pulled out a small ceramic pot that held a salve that kept the mosquitoes at bay. It worked well enough so that, with the smoke from the fire, the majority of winged bloodsuckers found something better to bite. Lying down on his bedroll without removing his leather boots, he stared up at the night sky. The sky was perfectly clear and the stars were bright. One of the things that he missed was the moon. It didn't seem right to him to have a night sky without a moon in it. It made the night seem ten times as dark even though there were even more stars in the sky than on Earth. He fell asleep to the sounds of bullfrogs calling out for mates. An owl announced its presence in the middle of the night. The horse grazed and occasionally let loose with a snort or neigh. Fish jumping out of the water to eat flying night insects made splashes. Smaller mammals moved about making rustling noises. Malcolm slept through the night undisturbed by the natural sounds of night. Malcolm woke up in the morning to the sounds of birds singing. He felt refreshed from his sleep. As he yawned and stretched, he looked around at his surroundings. The ground was covered with dew that sparkled in the morning sun. Wisps of fog floated over the slow moving stream. His bladder reminded him that he had an important morning function to fulfill. He walked over to the nearest tree and untied his pants. Pissing against the tree, he thought about how his neighbors on Earth would react if they found him doing the same thing in his back yard. On Chaos, the sight of a man relieving himself in public was so common that people didn't think anything about it. After washing his hands in the stream, he returned to the campsite and prepared a breakfast of cheese, slices of smoked meat, and bread that was quickly going stale. The bread made him think about the advantages of plastic in storing food. It was amazing how many of the modern conveniences people took for granted. He ate his meal thinking about what Alice had said about finding an Earth woman. As much as he hated the idea of cheating on Alice, her idea of finding her opposite on Earth was attractive. He wondered where he could find a woman who enjoyed camping, fishing, and hunting. Too many of the people back home who enjoyed camping were environmental idealists. One week on Chaos and they'd be stark raving mad. After a month, they'd likely be dead. He was packing up camp when the Miller approached. The squatty man stopped a dozen steps away and asked, "What did you tell my boy last night?" "Nothing much. Just did my best to convince him not to become an adventurer," Malcolm said watching the Miller with care. "You did a good job of that," said the Miller. "That's for the best. Young boy like that would get killed or raped in no time," Malcolm said stating a reality of life in Chaos. "I appreciate it. Even since my last wife died, he's been doing the cooking and cleaning. He's been miserable, but his sisters aren't big enough to reach the top of the stove. I've been afraid that he'll run off," said the man shaking his head. The loss of the boy would be a major blow. It was impossible to be both mother and father to four kids while earning enough to keep everyone fed and clothed. "I see that all the time when I travel." "Well, take care on the trail. It's a dangerous world out there," said the Miller. He rubbed his side where he had a scar from his days from when he had decided to see a bit of the world. He had lasted a month before crawling home on the verge of dying from a wound received in a simple bar fight in a big city. "Take care, Eric the Miller." ------- Chapter 3 After three days on the road, Malcolm had finally reached his destination. He rode into the small town and took stock of his surroundings. There was a general store, an inn, a blacksmith, and an open market in the center of the town. A handful of houses lined the streets. The stable was at the other end of town. He figured the town had fifty residents, although another couple hundred people probably lived on properties around it. Malcolm kicked his horse with his heels and directed it towards the stable. Stables tended to be away from the center of town since the smell of manure and the horse flies were not exactly an invitation for next door neighbors. Upon reaching it, he dismounted and tied the horse to one of the fence posts of the corral. The wood was in much better condition then the wood at the stable where he had purchased his horse. The owner, a man in his early thirties, stepped out of the barn. His eyes went to the horse before they turned to Malcolm's direction. In a quiet voice, he said, "Two pinches a night. I'll clean your tack with saddle soap and check it for wear, although they look in good condition from here." "Fine," said Malcolm lifting his saddlebags off the horse. The price was a little high, but the man looked like he knew what he was doing. He said, "This horse has no spirit, but is dependable. You'll have no call to beat it." "Man who beats a horse deserves what he gets when the horse kicks him," said the man. He went over to the horse and rubbed a hand over its' flank. Malcolm was sure that the horse actually relaxed even more than it was. If it got much more relaxed, he was convinced that the animal would fall over. He said, "I'll be here for a day or two. Need to get supplies before I continue on." The man bent down and examined the hoof on the front leg. The animal didn't put up any kind of resistance. He commented, "Take two days and I'll have your horse in the best condition possible." "I'll let you know tomorrow," said Malcolm. "Good enough," said the man as he untied the horse. He led the animal into the barn where he would take care of it. Shaking his head, Malcolm headed back towards the center of town where the inn was located. The inn had a sign with a bed, a tankard, and a plate on it. Like a lot of inns located in towns of this size, this one didn't seem to have a name. Coming from modern America, it always surprised Malcolm to discover that most places didn't have names. They didn't name their businesses, their towns, or roads. The local inn was known as the inn. It was only when the town grew large enough to support more than one inn did anyone think of naming them. He entered the place finding it was not as clean as the stable. The dirt floor was covered with straw, although the area around the fireplace was clear. The straw was necessary to keep it from turning into mud when folks spilled their drinks. The owner was behind the counter and watched Malcolm assessing him in terms of the danger he represented. A woman, who had seen better days, sat in the corner of the public room assessing him in terms of how much money he carried. Malcolm made his way to the counter and said, "Need a room for a night or two." "Two pinches a night if you want a common room, three if you want a private room, and five if you want company," said the man pointing to the woman in the corner when he mentioned company. "Does that include board?" "Of course it does," the man said. "I'll take the private room," Malcolm said. He glanced over at the corner where the woman had opened her blouse to display her tits. They hung down almost to her navel. Turning back to the owner, he said, "No company." "She's a good fuck." "No company," Malcolm repeated. "Everyone in town has been with her and no one has complained yet." "No company." "Your room is the door over there with the picture of the cow on it," said the man pointing to the far wall. One of the doors had a picture of a four-legged animal that might have passed for a cow. The other two doors had pictures of a bird and fish respectively. Malcolm shook his head at the idea of a room off the public room. There'd be little or no sleep until the bar closed down. Frowning, he said, "Okay." "I'll take a pitcher of watered wine," said Malcolm setting out three pinches for the room. "Two pitchers of watered wine for a pinch," said the owner as he turned to fill a pitcher from a large wood barrel mounted behind the bar. He put a pinch down on the bar and accepted the pitcher from the owner. The man handed him a clay cube and said, "For your second pitcher." The woman in the corner yawned loudly in an attempt to get attention. When she noticed Malcolm looking at her, she stuck her thumb in her mouth and sucked on it. Removing the thumb from her mouth, she said, "I'll give you a handjob for your second pitcher or a blowjob for a pinch." "Not today," Malcolm said. He figured she was an indentured servant and was hard at work to clear up her indenture before she ended up in a worse place. She'd collect the tokens for the pitchers of watered wine and turn them in as payment towards her indenture. At a pinch or two per day, it would take her forever to pay off an indenture. He decided that the time to ask about it would be when the public room was filled with more people. Taking a seat in the far corner of the room, Malcolm poured filled his tankard with watered wine. He took a sip and grimaced at the slightly sour taste. If it sat around much longer it would become vinegar. The woman laughed at his reaction and said, "The beer is better." "Might be, but I want to remain sober enough to untie my pants before taking a piss," Malcolm replied with a grin. The woman laughed good-naturedly and said, "Pay me a pinch and I'll untie your pants as frequently as required. I'll even hold it for you while you piss." Laughing, Malcolm replied, "I imagine that would make it impossible to piss." It was approaching dark before the inn started filling with regulars. Malcolm watched the men enter and place their orders. Half of the men greeted the woman, calling her Molly. He watched as men went over to Molly and struck private deals for her services. She'd take the man over to the room with the fish on the door and stay inside for a few minutes. They'd emerge with the man wearing a smile and her dropping off something for the owner. After finishing the vile pitcher of watered wine, Malcolm went to the bar and turned his clay cube for another. He requested his meal, which turned out to be a roasted half a chicken, some fried potatoes, and a slice of bread. He carried the pewter plate and pitcher back to his table. Sitting down, he started to eat. Like most of the people, he used his knife to shovel the fried potatoes into his mouth and used his hands to eat the chicken. Considering there were only four tables in the inn, it was late before any sat down at his table. The man looked at the empty plate and the half-empty pitcher before taking a sip of his beer. In a loud voice, he said, "I notice you ain't been with Molly. What's the matter? She not good enough for you?" This was the opening that Malcolm had been waiting for the entire evening. Sitting back, he answered, "You ever heard of Rebecca of Silver Town?" "Rebecca of Silver Town? Who hasn't heard of her? There aren't many women who can pay off a fifty conch indenture in two years," said the man. His loud repetition of her name caused everyone to stop talking and turn to listen to the conversation. "Yeah. I helped her move after she paid off her indenture. She ruined me for other women," said Malcolm. He drained his tankard and refilled it. Shaking his head, he said, "Positively ruined me for other women." One of the men asked, "Is it true that she had four breasts?" Nodding, Malcolm said, "Yes. Two above two and each of them perfect. The ones above were bigger than the ones below. Each was topped with the finest pink nipples you could ever imagine." "I'd heard that about her," said the man who had asked the question. "I'd pay a shell to see that," said another man. "Me too." Looking as pathetic as he could, Malcolm said, "That's not the reason she paid off her indenture so quickly." The man across from him asked, "Why not?" "She had the finest pussy that ever graced a woman. She would settle down on top of your cock and milk it without moving. It was the most incredible feeling a man could ever experience. She charged twenty shells for an evening and no man ever wanted his money back," Malcolm said. Every word he said was true. He didn't know how good she was in bed, but he had helped her move. "You paid twenty shells to sleep with a woman?" "No. I helped her move when her indenture was over," Malcolm said. His comment was greeted with silence. He waited for the inevitable question and didn't have to wait long. "So you're saying you know where she lives?" "Sure do," answered Malcolm. Shaking his head, he said, "I stop by every year and propose to her, but she turns me down every time." "I'll give you two pinches if you'll tell me where she lives," said one of the men. "No. If I do that, she'll move and I'll never find her again," said Malcolm. The trap was baited and now all he had to do was wait for the prey to arrive. Standing up, he said, "I'm turning in fellows. Always gets me sad thinking about Rebecca." Malcolm went to his room and opened the door. He turned around to get a candle when he found Molly standing behind him. She held up a lit candle and said, "You really did know Rebecca?" "Yes, I do," answered Malcolm carefully putting it into the present tense. "No wonder you turned me down," she said with a slight frown. She handed him the candle and returned to her chair. He entered the room and looked around. The bed was a typical woven surface, but this one was loose rather than tight. A chamber pot was under the bed exactly where he expected it. He slid the bar that would keep the door closed while he slept into place. Even though he was confident that he wouldn't be disturbed, he placed his axe and knife where he could grab them in the dark. He lay down on the bed and blew out his candle. From inside his room he could hear the murmur and tone of the conversations in the public room. It was clear that opinion was divided over whether he actually knew Rebecca of Silver Town. It was early morning when he woke. There'd been a few interruptions during the night as people knocked on his door wanting to learn more about Rebecca. He had ignored the attempts to get his attention, but it meant that he had passed a miserable night. Getting out of bed, he went to the door and opened it. The place was closed and the owner was nowhere to be seen. Walking towards the back door that would take him to the outhouse, he could hear snoring from inside the room with the fish on the door. He guessed that Molly had found an overnight customer. He went out back and located the outhouse without much difficulty. He did his business and found the well. Pulling up a bucket of water, he washed his hands and face. The opening of the backdoor interrupted his bath. Turning, he spotted the owner stepping out. The man grunted in his direction while briskly walking over to the outhouse. Malcolm wondered if the man had a family. His question was answered when a young man stepped out the backdoor to collect some wood. The family resemblance was unmistakable. Malcolm returned to the inn and headed towards the public room. He could hear sounds coming from the wall behind the bar. It sounded like someone was building a fire in the fireplace. The lack of iron made a stove an expensive proposition and he'd never seen one in all of his travels. Most cookware was made of copper, although there were some cast iron pots and pans. He sat down at the table to wait for the owner to serve breakfast. Undoubtedly, breakfast would be cheese and bread served with tea in a pewter tankard. He hadn't been there long before the door with the fish opened and one of the men from the night before dashed out the back. Smiling, he shook his head. The owner came in and asked, "Care for some boiled eggs and bread?" Surprised by the fare, Malcolm answered, "That would be fine." "It'll take a while. Still have to boil the eggs," said the man as he went behind the bar. "No problem." The owner was silent for a moment and then asked, "Do you really know Rebecca?" "Yes, I do know her. She's a very lovely woman with a heart of gold." The man shook his head and said, "I'd give almost everything I own to sleep with her." It seemed to Malcolm that every place and time had a sex symbol that represented everything that a man could possibly want in a woman. Despite her extra pair of breasts, Rebecca was that woman and she well deserved that honor. Her hair was the color of honey, her eyes a deep emerald green, and her fair skin was unblemished. Talking with her was a pleasure. Her voice reminded men of nightingales. Her laugh was easy on the ears and came even easier to her lips. If he hadn't known Alice, Malcolm knew that she would have been the one woman with whom he could have fallen in love. A woman's voice interrupted his memories. "How did you know her?" "I was working as a bodyguard on a job up in Silver Town about the time when Rebecca finished her indenture. The lady I was escorting knew Rebecca and agreed to help her move away from there. So it came to pass that I ended up driving the wagon with all of Rebecca's possessions to her new home," answered Malcolm. Rebecca had helped the Damsel in Distress he had rescued. The Damsel felt she owed the woman more than she could ever pay. Despite the fact that men were looking for her, she had demanded that Malcolm help her friend. Malcolm accepted, knowing that Cassandra was not the only source of Damsels in Distress. "You sound like you love her," said Molly. "Yeah, I guess I do," Malcolm said. He stopped by to visit Rebecca whenever he could. The fact was that he hated using her as the bait in his trap. After breakfast, Malcolm left the inn. He had a day to kill and went about doing it in a manner that wouldn't raise suspicion. His first stop was the general store. Looking around it, he noticed the ceramic jars that held herbal remedies. On one of them was the painted image of a poppy. The proprietor of the store came over and asked, "Could I help you?" "I'd like five balls of opium," answered Malcolm pointing to the jar. "Five balls? That seems like a lot," the man said. "I'm going into the back country. If I get hurt, that's all I'll have to ease the pain," replied Malcolm. The man counted out five balls of opium, putting them in a piece of folded paper. Once that was done, the man said, "Be careful with this stuff. You can get addicted to it. Will you need a pipe?" "No." "Is there anything else?" "I'll be gone for a long time. Is it possible to get a smoked ham around here?" Malcolm asked. "I've got three in the back. They're even in cloth bags that you can use once you finish the ham." "Excellent, I'll take one of them." The man disappeared for a minute before returning with a good- sized ham. Malcolm nodded his head pleased with what he saw. Turning to point to the wall, he asked, "That net. How big is it?" "It is five paces long and two paces wide." "Is that the only one you have?" "Yes." Deciding that it wouldn't work for his intended purpose, Malcolm said, "I'm tempted, but it is too big." "You can always cut it down to size." "Last time I did that, I ended up without a net," replied Malcolm with a laugh. The proprietor laughed at the image of the net unraveling. He asked, "Anything else?" "Ten pounds of lead." "Ten?" "Yes, ten pounds of lead," answered Malcolm. He figured that ten pounds would be sufficient weight to trigger any traps he might encounter. "Not sure that I have enough. Let me check," said the proprietor. He had no idea what a man was going to do with that much lead, but this was promising to be a big sale. Malcolm wandered around the store checking out the other goods contained within it. For a small store, there were lots of different items. The proprietor came out and said, "I've got three three- pound ingots. Will that do?" "Sure. That'll be fine." "Anything else?" "Nope, that'll do it for now." Malcolm paid for his purchases and carried them back to the inn. He dropped the ham, rope, and opium in his room. He went on to the blacksmith with his nine pounds of lead. The blacksmith was a huge man, with arms the size of tree trunks. He looked over at Malcolm and asked, "What can I do for you?" "I want these three bars of lead turned into a disk with a hole in the middle. Can you do it?" "Why would you want that?" asked the man confused by the request. "I've got my reasons," Malcolm said. "It'll take most of a day and cost three pinches." "Fine. I'll pick it up before dark." Malcolm left the lead at the blacksmith and returned to the inn. He'd eaten up the morning, but that still left the afternoon to kill. Picking up the ham, he cut five large chunks of meat out of it. Cutting a deep slit into each piece of ham, he spread a ball of opium inside each one. He put the chunks in the cloth bag in which the ham had been packed. It was early in the evening and Malcolm was drinking watered wine when a slick wealthy looking young man slithered into the inn. The conversation, which had been boisterous at times, died with his arrival. It was as if everyone in the room knew something was the matter with the man. Malcolm didn't need to be introduced to the man to know he was Derek. He had known the man would come upon learning that someone in town knew the location of Rebecca of Silver Town. Malcolm knew that the only thing that could overcome Derek's paranoia was his lust. The man looked over at Malcolm with a sneer on his face. He examined the man seated at the table and dismissed him as a real threat. The battle-ax looked too big for the man to wield effectively and was too small to be intimidating. He knew that with the right distance between the two of them, he could gut the man with his sword and never be in danger. Derek walked over to where Malcolm was seated and, in a condescending voice, asked, "Are you the one who knows where Rebecca lives?" "Yes," answered Malcolm. He examined the shiny black leather clothes the man wore. They were an ostentatious symbol of wealth, as was the very fancy sword hanging in the scabbard at his waist. "Tell me where she lives," Derek said. "No." "I'll give you a conch if you tell me." "No," answered Derek with a dismissive shake of his head. "I won't take no for an answer," said Derek angrily. He was not used to men denying him anything he wanted. "That's too bad, because I won't give yes as an answer," said Malcolm as he took a drink from his tankard with his left hand. Derek noticed the use of the left-hand and leaned over the table so that his face was inches from Malcolm's face. In a low threatening voice, he said, "You'll tell me now or I'll carve little chunks out of your body until you talk." Weight loss jokes would not be understood, so Malcolm did the next best thing and laughed. Still laughing, he slammed the tankard down on the table and echoed, "You'll carve little chunks out of my body. That's funny." Furious, Derek stepped back and drew his sword. With his opponent trapped behind a table and basically defenseless, he felt confident that he would win. A couple of strokes with his sword and the man would be helpless before him. Malcolm stood and pulled out his ax using his left hand. Every motion he made announced that he had no skill with the ax. He held it awkwardly with the head at an odd angle. Using the flat of his blade, Derek knocked the ax out of his hand and stepped forward so that only the table separated them. In a low guttural voice, he said, "You're gonna beg..." Malcolm pulled his knife out of the other man's stomach and stepped back. Derek, with a very surprised look on his face, collapsed on the table. Black blood pooled on the table beneath and around his body. Looking down at the man, Malcolm said, "You were watching the wrong hand." Stepping away from the table, Malcolm picked up his ax and returned it to his belt with a practiced flourish. His actions convinced everyone that his awkwardness with the ax had been a sham intended to fool Derek. He looked around the room to see if there was anyone who wanted to challenge him. It was Molly who broke the silence in the room. In a scornful voice, she said, "He was a real creep. He liked to hurt women." Returning to the body on the table, Malcolm stripped it of money and weapons. Among the personal items were a couple of keys. He took those as well. One of the men said, "He's got a place down the road. You'll want to go there tomorrow and claim it." ------- Chapter 4 Malcolm Chandler, riding Derek's horse and leading his old horse, approached the moat with caution. About ten yards from the bank, he halted his horse trying to figure out how Derek managed to cross it. There was movement in the water. He rode forward another couple of yards to look into the filthy moat. Black shapes wriggled in the murky water. It took him a minute to recognize what was moving in the water. The man had stocked it with giant leeches. If one or two of those latched onto a man, they'd drain his blood in minutes. Across the moat, five dogs paced along the shore with nervous excitement while barking at him. The dogs were a problem that he had to take care of before figuring out how to cross the moat. He reached into his saddlebag and removed the cloth bag containing the opium-laced ham. He threw the chunks of meat across the moat and watched as the dogs fought over them. It only took a few minutes before all five dogs were stretched out on the ground. He hoped that he hadn't used too much opium. Dismounting, Malcolm searched the ground for a clue as to how Derek crossed the moat. A little path, difficult to spot, led off the main path. Since it was the only clue he had on a way to cross the moat, he followed it through the trees. He went carefully expecting traps and, consistent with his expectations, found a piece of twine connected to a crossbow. After removing the bolt from the crossbow, he cut the twine. About twenty yards further along the path, he found a structure that held a number of levers. He checked out the structure with care before entering it. Rather than try them at random, he studied the mechanisms they controlled. One of them was booby-trapped. Another appeared to control a floodgate that would cause water to spill into the moat. A third controlled a gate that would drain the moat. Tying a rope around the lever that appeared to drain the moat, he stepped outside the shack and pulled the rope. From a distance away, he could hear water being released. After a few minutes, the sound slowly died. He walked back to his horse. The water level had lowered to a point where a small bridge connecting the two sides of the moat had been exposed. Mounting his horse, he rode across the bridge. In the first sign of spirit, the dun actually appeared nervous going over the bridge. The more spirited horse that he was riding took the crossing in stride. That fact let Malcolm know that the horse had done this before. Riding over to where the dogs were stretched out on the grass, Malcolm was displeased to discover that one of them had died. Shaking his head, he rode up to the house. It was far larger than one would expect to find in the country. It was more like a country manor than a country house. Alice's warning that the place was filled with traps was foremost in his mind. Rather than walk up to the house, he tested each step using a branch. When he reached the front door, the doorstep spun out from under his probing stick. A man stepping on it would have fallen through. It wouldn't have been much of a fall, but the poisonous snake inside the pit would have made short work of the man. It took Malcolm a minute of searching to locate a mechanism that held the board in place. Shaking his head, he said, "That was one sick man." Deciding that exploring the house would require even more care than he had thought, he studied the door for several long minutes before selecting a key. The key wasn't a metal key like used in modern houses, but a wooden one that fit into a slot. The proper locations of cuts into the wood allowed specific mechanisms to move while preventing others from moving. The problem was that there were two slots and only one key. He examined the slots and inserted the key into the one that appeared to be the least used deciding that the one that was all marked up had far more damage than a wooden key could inflict. Using the pole, he lifted the door handle and, after a second, the door swung open. He returned to the horse and removed the rope with the lead weight attached. Returning to the door, he threw the weight into the house and retrieved it by pulling it back with the rope. When the weight was about halfway to the door, a bolt from a crossbow flew across the opening. Staring at the bolt, he said, "That was a real sick man." A little closer to the door, another bolt from a crossbow flew across the room. Shaking his head, he decided that it there had to be some sort of mechanism to turn off all the traps. Without entering the house, he searched the panels next to the door. A hidden panel sprung open when he tapped it with his stick. He pulled the lever inside and repeated his experiment with the weight. No bolts flew across the room. It took Malcolm almost three hours to make his way to the second floor. By that time, he was almost a nervous wreck. About the time he would start to assume there were no more traps, he'd find one. He had almost fallen into a pit when a trapdoor opened at his feet at the top of the stairs. The only thing that had saved him was that he had decided to test it with the lead weight before leaving the stairs. He stopped in from of a room in which he assumed the Damsel in Distress was held. It was a reasonable guess since it was the only room along the hallway that was barred on the outside. He knocked on the door and called out, "Lilly? It's Malcolm Chandler. I'm here to rescue you." "Don't come in yet. He does something at the door before he removes the bar." Malcolm studied the door. It took him a minute, but he finally found the hidden panel and opened it. As always, he was careful in how he did it. He was fortunate because a blade slipped down and would have taken off his fingers if he'd been less cautious. In what had become a mantra, he said, "That was one sick man." "You can say that again," said Lilly through the closed door. After flipping the mechanism, Malcolm removed the bar and opened the door using his stick. Lilly stood in the center of room looking expectantly towards the door. She was a tall woman with long black hair that cascaded down below her ass. She had lush full lips and deep brown eyes. She was shapely with full breasts that strained the top of her gown. Awed by the sight, Malcolm said, "You're gorgeous." Lilly smiled at the amazing specimen of a man standing before her and said, "You're definitely an Earth man." "Why do you say that?" "A man from Chaos would have grabbed me by now and a man from Cassandra wouldn't have noticed," she said. She could hardly wait to get to Crossroads and claim her Damsel in Distress rights from her Hero. "Oh. I guess I better get you out of here." She walked over to him and said, "Let's go." "Follow behind me and be careful. He's got traps placed all over the house," Malcolm said. It took them an hour to make their way through the house and out the front door. They had discovered two traps he had missed on the way to her room. Helping her onto his old horse, he said, "The sooner we are out of here, the better." "You're so right." When he reached his horse, Malcolm looked back at the house and shook his head. Leaving it open like that was an invitation to a disaster. Someone, probably a kid out exploring, would enter the house and get killed. Returning to Lilly, he said, "I changed my mind. We can't leave the house standing. Too many people could get hurt. Let me help you down from the horse." He helped her down before going off to collect some wood to start a fire. Lilly watched him struggle with the flint and, amused at his difficulties, said, "Get out of the way. Let me do that." Malcolm stepped back and handed her the flint and steel rod. In three minutes she had the fire started. Taking a brand from the fire, he went to the house and lit it on fire. Stepping back, he watched the flames slowly spread. Satisfied that it would burn to the ground, he said, "I'd like to wait until it burns down. Maybe he has some money hidden inside." "Maybe you should have looked before you started the fire." "As many traps as there were in that house, we were lucky to get out. There's no way I'd go through there looking for something that might not exist. After all, I already got the most valuable treasure in the house." Lilly looked over at her hero thinking to herself that he was something else. Not only did he rescue her, he also complemented her every chance he had. Malcolm noticed her looking at him and said, "I'm sorry. I bet you're hungry." "A little," she answered thinking that the word horny better described her condition. Malcolm retrieved his saddlebag and prepared a meal for the two of them. He handed her a ham sandwich and pointed to the ground. The pair sat down, watched the house burn from a safe distance, while eating their sandwiches. The flames had spread rapidly through the house. Thick black smoke billowed out as windows broke. Once he had finished his sandwich, Malcolm held an arm around Lilly. They'd been watching the fire for more than an hour when Malcolm noticed the dogs were coming to their feet. Rather than attack, they headed unsteadily towards the bridge. One of the dogs staggered before it managed to cross the bridge. It fell into the water and disappeared with a yelp as giant leeches grabbed hold of it. The last three dogs ran off into the woods. Aloud, Malcolm said, "He was one sick man." "You're talking about Derek?" asked Lilly. "Yes. His guard dogs just took off into the woods. I imagine that folks around here will eventually have to kill them. There's nothing worse than a pack of feral dogs. I probably should have killed them outright, but I just can't do that." Lilly said, "That's okay." "It's going to be dark soon. I probably ought to take you to the inn for the night," Malcolm said. He added, "We can always stop by here in the morning and go through the ashes." "I think we should set up camp and spend the night here. We've already got a huge campfire." They discussed the matter for thirty minutes before deciding to stay where they were. He had enough food to last until late the next day and the weather seemed clear enough. Having arrived at the decision to stay, Malcolm took care of the horses. Once they were settled, he set up camp using the tarp from his bedroll as a tent for Lilly. They watched the fire burn until late into the evening. Most of the time was spent talking about life on Earth and on Cassandra. Lilly was excited about returning home, but was even more excited about getting to Crossroads. About half of the things she said were sexual innuendoes. It reminded him of all the other conversations that he had with Damsels in Distress that he had rescued. By the time they'd reach Crossroads, he'd be horny enough to sleep with one of those giant leeches in the moat. In the morning, Malcolm went over to the remains of the house. A few timbers were still hot, but most of it had burned down to ashes. He spotted a pile of fused glass with gold flakes and picked it up. There was no way for him to tell how much money it had been. He'd take it to a bank and see if they could figure it out. A few warped pinches, quids, and shells remained on the ground. He gathered them together and put them into his coin purse. Carrying the pile of molten glass, he went over to his saddlebags. He slipped it into one of them and looked around. It was getting late and he decided it was time to wake Lilly. They'd have a good ride ahead of them to make it to the next town with an inn. When he reached the side of the tent, he could hear Lilly moaning. There was a sexual element to the sounds she was making. He turned around rather than look inside. There were no doubts in his mind that she was already wide-awake. Rather than interrupt her, he started to prepare breakfast. What he really wanted to do was climb in that tent and make her fantasies come true, but that was against the rules. He jumped when he heard her scream out. "Malcolm!" The noise did not come from the tent. He turned and saw her standing in the ruins pointing excitedly to the ground. Curious, he headed towards her while asking, "What is it?" "Jewels," she answered. He stopped next to her and knelt down. A wooden box had survived more or less intact, with only one corner having been burned. Using his knife, he pried off the lid. Inside the box was a king's ransom in gold and jewels. Emeralds, rubies, and pearls were set in intricate gold settings. Lilly reached down and pulled out a simple gold chain with a plain stone on it. She said, "This was mine. Harold son of Fredrick gave it to me." "He was the one who was willing to pay your ransom," Malcolm said recalling the details of his briefing from Alice. The young man was willing to spend all of his money for the return of Lilly. "He was?" "Yes, he was." "So I wasn't really in distress?" asked Lilly worried that she wouldn't be going back to Crossroads despite her rescue by an Earth Hero. "Derek would have killed you no matter what," Malcolm answered. She had known that, but had never allowed herself to dwell on it. Captivity would have been impossible to tolerate if she had accepted that she was going to die no matter what happened. Holding the chain in her hand, she said, "Still. It was nice that he was willing to pay the ransom." Nodding his head in agreement, Malcolm said, "Yes, it was." "I need to do something for him." Pointing to the box of jewels, Malcolm said, "That might be a good start." "How will we get it to him?" "We'll leave from where he lives," Malcolm answered. It would delay them from leaving by almost a month, but he'd done similar side trips after a rescue. Although it was often true that no good deed goes unpunished, it was also true that some good deeds were rewarded. Looking over at her, he added, "Of course, you're going to have to tone down on looking and acting so sexy. I'm having enough trouble keeping from taking you right here." His words shot through her like a thunderbolt. The idea that a man would have to resist an urge to take a woman was almost incomprehensible to her. She'd been doing her best to increase his interest in her so that he would be able to perform when they reached Crossroads. "Are you serious? You want me, already?" "I'm very serious," Malcolm said. His eyes drifted over her perfect body. The long hair curled around all of the best parts. He wanted to run his hands through it, knowing that he'd feel the body underneath. She could see the naked desire for her body in his eyes. It wasn't just lust; lust was too selfish. His was a real desire to explore her body and give her pleasure as well. No one had ever looked at her like that and it sent tingles straight to her crotch. Consciously having to prevent her hands from running over her body, she said, "I'll try." Malcolm went to the campsite and brought back his saddlebags. He transferred the jewelry to the saddlebag. It was significantly heavier with the addition of the treasure. Smiling, he said, "Let's eat and then head out. We have a long trip." "Thank you for letting take this stuff to Harold. He really was a sweet young man," she said. Everyone focused on the dangers of being a Damsel in Chaos. No one talked about the pleasures and acts of kindness that they experienced. "Funny, isn't it?" Malcolm asked while they headed back to the campsite. "What?" "You come here expecting to be placed in danger and yet you find that most of your time is not filled with danger," Malcolm answered. They reached the campsite and he knelt down to finish making the ham sandwiches. The crust on the bread was already getting hard. "Yeah, I guess so." "I like it here. I like most of the people I meet. Only about one out of a thousand is really a bad person. It's amazing when you think about it. There's no overriding law enforcement agency - might makes right and all of that. Still, the vast majority of people behave in reasonable manners with each other," Malcolm commented. He handed her a sandwich and added, "Sorry that we don't have anything to drink. I'm not going near that moat for water." "That's okay," said Lilly. She thought about what Malcolm had said about the people. She asked, "Do you enjoy the adventure?" Although he had killed a man two nights earlier, the fact was that Malcolm enjoyed the adventure. Trained to fight, he lived in a world where that training went unused and untested. Instead, society did everything it could to sanitize the world. People who craved adventure had to create artificial means to achieve it. Jumping off a cliff wearing a parachute represented an extreme behavior undertaken just to feel a thrill. Too many people on Earth relied upon others to take charge of their lives. For a self-reliant person, living within a society that demanded he not rely upon himself was torture. Here in Chaos, it was just Malcolm Chandler against all of the hidden, and not so hidden, dangers of the world. Each time he faced danger and came out victorious, he felt alive. "Men on Earth have very high sex drives. Believe it or not, our sex drives are stronger than the sex drives of the women from Cassandra," Malcolm said. He could see the shocked expression on Lilly's face. He said, "Let me just say that I'd be doing this even without being able to claim my reward from the Damsel in Distress." "Claim your reward from the Damsel in Distress?" asked Lilly with an amused expression. Smiling, she said, "We Damsels view it as claiming our rights from the Hero." Malcolm laughed at the comment and said, "I've heard that more than once." "Oh," Lilly said. It dawned on her that he was telling her the truth about the sex drives of the men from Earth. They really thought about it as much or more than the women of Cassandra did. Curious, she asked, "Is it really true that you can perform more than once a day?" Looking over her body, Malcolm said, "For you, at least three times a day, maybe four or five." "Wow!" She reconsidered the decision to deliver the jewels to Harold son of Fredrick. If she stayed in Crossroads for two weeks, that would mean they would make love forty-two times. That was almost a lifetime of sex for a woman of Cassandra. She took a bite of her sandwich as she thought about it. There were lots of stories about the sexual prowess of men from Earth. They could last for an hour. She'd heard that Earthmen made love to woman's entire body. The rumor was that they were aggressive in bed and took command of the action in bed. A shudder went through her body at that thought. It was only when she finished her sandwich that she realized what Malcolm had said. With a puzzled expression, she asked, "You said you'd do this even without giving the Damsel our rights. Does that mean that adventuring is better than sex?" "Not exactly. That is like asking if eating is better than drinking. You need both to live a full life. To me, adventuring is just as rewarding as sex. Pulling off a rescue like this makes me feel like a real man in the same way that bedding an attractive woman does," Malcolm answered. "Wow." Once they were finished breaking their fast, Malcolm broke camp while Lilly braided her long hair so that it would be out of the way. It wasn't long before they were mounted and headed away from the ruins. He was riding the more spirited horse while she was on his sedate dun. As they crossed the bridge over the moat, he looked down. The water level had continued to drop and giant leeches were dying as they dried out. He hoped that the moat dried out completely and killed off all the leeches. It would be a shame if the giant leeches were to escape into the environment. Although they paused occasionally to walk the horses, the pair traveled at a mile eating pace. It was approaching dark when they arrived at a little town with an inn. Malcolm led them into the inn after leaving the horses at the stable. He paused after taking a few paces into the inn to examine the occupants. The men looked coarse and rough, but not dangerous or threatening. All eyes settled on Lilly. Malcolm lifted his sword four inches from the sheath and let it slide back in. The sound drew all eyes from Lilly to Malcolm like a magnet. The men gathered in the public room took in his sword, battle-ax, and knife. It was an expensive set of arms. They, more than anything he could have said, announced to all that he was not a man to be trifled with. His manner and bearing let the men know that if he wasn't bothered, then he wouldn't bother them. His protective hand on Lilly's arm let them know exactly what would bother him. Once everyone knew where they stood with respect to each other, conversations resumed around the room. Malcolm went to the bar and went through the process of negotiating for a room with two beds. Now that he had rescued the Damsel, he wasn't going to let her out of his sight. Nothing would be more embarrassing then losing her after rescuing her. For the next month, they would be inseparable. Sharing a room with Lilly would make waiting to reach Crossroads even more difficult. Glancing at her as he led her to the room, he decided that it would make waiting impossible. His mind went back to the rulebook and the requirement that they not engage in sex until they returned to Crossroads. He couldn't help wonder just how restrictive that rule might be. Lilly looked at the simple room and nodded her appreciation for simple comforts. The beds looked maintained, the floor was clean, and the furnishings adequate. She smiled at Malcolm and said, "This is a good inn." "We'll see how good it is when we eat." "If the beds are good, the food will be good," Lilly said. Smiling, Malcolm nodded his agreement. She looked at the table and noted the wash basin and pitcher resting on it. They could wash in the privacy of their room. Raising one eyebrow, she said, "They have an oil lamp rather than candles." "So they do." Nervous as newlyweds, they stood in the room without saying a word. Malcolm looked at the beds, at the table, and then back at the beds. He didn't know what to say. Finally, he blurted out, "How do you want to handle this?" "Why don't you go out and order food while I freshen up in here?" Malcolm went out and ordered food with a pitcher of watered wine. He carried it to the table and waited for Lilly to emerge from the room. Shaking his head, he stared at the plate filled with sliced meats, vegetables, and bread. He filled the two pewter tankards with watered wine and took a sip. The wine was surprisingly good. Lilly came out looking fresh and alert. She had let down the braid so that her hair hung down to below her ass. Flipping her hair out of the way, she sat down across from Malcolm and looked over the food. Muttering under his breath, he said, "It's going to be a long trip." Smiling, she said, "You didn't need to wait for me." The pair ate in silence. Malcolm kept glancing at Lilly amazed at how attractive she was. Lilly gazed at Malcolm wondering what he'd be like in bed. The sexual tension between the two of them increased. Malcolm finished his meal and said, "I'll be back." "I'll wait for you," said Lilly. She watched him walk to their room checking out his tight ass. A shudder of sexual excitement ran through her body. In a voice too soft for any to hear, she said, "I must be crazy to postpone my return to Crossroads." Malcolm didn't sleep well that night. In the dark, he could just make out the outline of her body under her blanket. He listened to the soft moans as she masturbated thinking he was asleep. It almost drove him crazy. ------- Chapter 5 After a month on the road, the sexual tension between Malcolm and Lilly was thick enough to cut with a knife. Malcolm had taken to disappearing for fifteen minutes every morning and afternoon to relieve some of his tension by masturbating into the bushes. Lilly didn't need that kind of release. She had discovered that she could trigger an orgasm by sitting just so while riding the horse. Needless to say, she sat just so several times a day much to the distraction of Malcolm. Their destination was rather large citadel with a population of over ten thousand people and situated on a substantial hill. Malcolm pulled the reins bringing his horse to a stop when they crossed through the pass. Below them, he could see the citadel about a day's ride away. This side of the citadel was rocky and there were few farms. The area past the citadel was marked into a checkerboard pattern that Malcolm recognized as individual farms. Pointing to it, he said, "There's our destination." "Yes. That's where Harold son of Fredrick lives," Lilly said. She was willing to ride the horses until they dropped if it would get them to Crossroads ten minutes quicker. "We'll be there tomorrow around noon. I figure it will take us about two hours to find Harold and sell off the horses," Malcolm said. He looked down at the sword and added, "I'll sell the sword while I'm at it. I've got three in storage and they're all better than this one." "Will we have to stay an extra night here?" "Why? Are you in a hurry to get to Crossroads?" asked Malcolm in a teasing voice. "Not at all," Lilly said. She adjusted her position on the saddle to where it would rub her just right. Malcolm noticed and commented, "You're going to wear out that saddle." "What's a worn saddle compared to all those little Malcolm bushes you've been planting all along our path," teased Lilly making reference to having caught him masturbating on several occasions. Catching him wasn't an accident. Once she had realized that he was going off into the bushes to relieve his sexual pressure, she made sure to follow him every time. She'd never seen a man whose sex drive was high enough to want to masturbate, much less do it two or three times a day. Rather than respond, Malcolm looked along the road to locate a good campsite for the night. He figured that they'd reach the bottom of the small mountain they were crossing by nightfall if they kept up a reason pace. There were several places that looked promising with water and reasonable cover. He frowned and said, "I fear that our campsite tonight is going to get visited by bandits." "Why?" "We're coming along a trade route into a citadel. We'll have to camp about a four-hour ride from town. That will put us in an area without any farms around. The problem is that there are places about two hours away where bandits can live and make raids at night," answered Malcolm scanning the region below. "How do you know that?" Lilly asked. His knowledge of the dangers of Chaos had been very impressive. Even more impressive was his ability to avoid trouble. He said, "I have a small holding in a mining area. Every so often, I have to chase away bandits that have decided to take up residence just outside of my holding." Lilly thought it was strange that he had not mentioned his holding up until that moment. The horse moved a little and triggered a very small orgasm. She gasped in surprise, wondering if the horse or the idea that the hero who rescued her was successful enough to have a holding triggered her orgasm. Fully aware of what had happened, Malcolm groaned and urged his horse forward. There was nothing more uncomfortable than riding a horse with an erection, particularly while wearing the tight pants common in this world. He glanced off trail looking for a good spot to relieve his frustrations. It took Lilly a minute to catch up. She asked, "Why didn't you say anything about your holding before now?" "It's just a small place. There are a couple hundred people and most of them are farmers, although all of them take turns working in the mine." Malcolm didn't want to mention that his hold on the place was very weak. Adventuring was his entire reason for coming to Chaos. He'd taken over the place after rescuing a Damsel a few years ago and kept it because it was a nice constant source of income. When possible, he took missions in the area around his holding so that he could visit it. The missions helped to increase his reputation in the area and made it less likely that someone would try to take it from him. "Mine?" Lilly asked imagining precious metals or jewels. "Yes. A coal mine. We dig out about two wagon-loads a week," answered Malcolm. He could have increased productivity by using more modern techniques, but that would have been a violation of the rules. Instead, his people dug out the coal using iron picks and wooden shovels. It was slow brutal work, but by working at a slow even pace he was able to increase the safety of the mine. "That sounds like dirty work," Lilly said. Visions of hot sweaty men coming out of a mine came to mind. She could imagine him, naked, washing under a waterfall. The idea was almost enough to trigger another orgasm. "It is." The pair discussed his holding for the rest of the afternoon. It was getting late, but still a couple of hours before dark, when they arrived at one of the campsites he had identified from the pass. As he reined his horse to a halt, he said, "Stay here while I check this spot out." "Okay." Malcolm dismounted and examined the ground around the campsite. It had been used many times in the past. There was a fire ring in an obvious spot. The grass had been stunted in areas where people were likely to lay their bedrolls. It wasn't used everyday, but at least once a week. As he moved around the perimeter of the campsite, he looked for spots where bandits were liable to sneak up on the site. He found several places where there were definite signs that individuals had lain in wait. There was even a spot in one of the trees where someone had tied boards on which to sit while looking into the camp. Returning to the horses, Malcolm said, "I've seen signs that bandits are active in the area. We'll have to lay some traps and be careful tonight." After taking care of the horses, starting dinner, and setting up camp, Malcolm spent an hour placing traps at various locations around the campsite. He returned to camp and continued to prepare their evening meal. Lilly waited by the fire for him to finish cooking. She had undone her braid and had her dress arranged to show off her legs. He was so tempted to go over to her and have his way with her. Looking over at the Damsel, Malcolm said, "Put your hair back in a braid." "Why?" "We won't be sleeping in camp tonight," answered Malcolm. "We'll have to be quiet because I'm sure that we'll have trouble tonight." "I can be quiet." "That means no orgasms tonight," Malcolm said looking over the fire at her. She had the grace to blush. He stirred the pot of beans and sampled them. Satisfied that they were fully cooked, he filled up a plate and handed it to Lilly. Shrugging his shoulders, he said, "Sorry about camp beans for the night meal, but it is the last night on the trail and we need to finish the food. Breakfast will be cheese and our last two apples." "I understand," Lilly said. She tasted the beans and found they were quite good. All of the meals Malcolm had prepared for her had been good. She quickly ate the plate of beans filling her empty stomach. Even though she finished eating well before Malcolm, she had still looked graceful doing it. He wondered how she managed to do that. After dinner, Malcolm cleaned up the camp. It was dark by the time he finished. Looking around, he grabbed a blanket and said, "Come with me." She followed him into the woods wondering where he was taking her. When he had found the location he had identified in his earlier scouting activities, he whispered, "Use this blanket and sleep here. We need to be quiet from now on." Early mornings meant that days ended early. Lilly settled on the ground and wrapped the blanket around her body. After a long tiring day on horseback, she promptly fell asleep confident that Malcolm would take care of her. After removing his sword from its sheath and setting it where he could pick it up without making noise, Malcolm sat down with his back resting against a tree. It was at times like this when he wished they were traveling with a larger group. He drifted off to an uneasy sleep. It was several hours later when Malcolm awoke to the sound of their horses moving nervously. His back was stiff from sleeping in the unnatural position. He stretched his muscles a little being careful not to make any noise. Putting a hand over her mouth, he woke Lilly and put a finger over his mouth in the universal gesture to remain silent. After a moment of panic, she calmed down once she realized what was happening. Malcolm picked up his sword, feeling comforted by the fit of it in his hand. Straining to listen for any noise that wasn't of natural origin; he nearly jumped out of his skin when the silence was broken by a bloodcurdling scream. His grim smile of satisfaction that someone had stumbled into his trap would have scared anyone who might have seen it. With the scream, surprise on the part of the bandits was no longer possible. Three men ran screaming into the camp with swords raised in the air. They slashed at the tarp trying to kill those that were in it. Moving silently, Malcolm came from behind them and dispatched the men with ease. At least one of the men never knew that the tent was empty. Malcolm moved out of the camp and made his way to the sounds originating from where a man was entangled in his trap. The man struggled to get his foot out of the noose that held him suspended in the air. His sword lay on the ground where he had dropped it out of shock. Even though the man was upside down, he swung his knife at Malcolm. Malcolm dispatched the bandit without remorse. After all, the man would have killed him in his sleep. After scouting around the campsite for thirty minutes for signs of other men, he was satisfied that he had gotten all of the bandits. His count was confirmed when he found four horses tied to a tree limb a short distance down the road. He was not surprised to find a shovel among the items carried on one of the horses. They would need to bury the bodies. Claiming the horses as spoils of battle, he took them back to camp and tied them up next to his two. He made his way to where Lilly was waiting and knelt down. Whispering, he said, "Stay here a little while. I've got to clean up camp." "Are they gone?" asked the terrified woman. "They're better than gone, they're dead," Malcolm answered in a flat tone of voice. Malcolm returned to a devastated campsite. The tarp was torn and would require a lot of stitching to return it to a useful state. He carried the bodies away from the camp, going through their personal effects for anything that might be useful. For simple bandits, they were well provisioned. All of the men had carried knives and swords. Between them, they had almost a conch in money. Once the camp had been restored to order, he went back into the woods to get Lilly. She was sitting up, wrapped in her blanket shaking slightly. Malcolm knelt down next to her and said, "It's safe now. Based on what I found, I don't think we'll have any more visitors tonight." "What makes you think that?" Lilly asked still feeling scared by her ordeal. When he'd gone after the bandits, she had worried that Malcolm might get killed and she'd be left alone in the wilderness. The past month had been pleasant and returning to a state of Distress was not something she wanted. "Those bandits were rather wealthy. They had horses, swords, and a lot of money with them. I suspect this is their territory and they've kept everyone else out of the area," Malcolm answered. Malcolm spread the tattered tarp on the ground and said, "We'll sleep on the tarp." Shivering from nervousness, Lilly asked, "Can you hold me?" The pair lay on the tarp with a blanket covering them. Malcolm held his arms around her. It felt good holding her like that. It felt like hours, but it was actually only a few minutes before she had snuggled against him and fell asleep. He was left with an erection that threatened to rip his leather britches. After a very restless night, Malcolm awoke with an erection that was so hard that it had become painful. He hadn't suffered a case of blue balls so bad since he was fifteen. It got worse when she started grinding her butt against his cock. It didn't help when, in a very sexy voice, Lilly asked, "Did you sleep well?" A few seconds later, Malcolm realized that he was holding her bare breast in his hand. Somehow, her dress had slipped down during the night exposing her upper body. It took a few seconds more for him to consider that it was highly unlikely that her top had come undone all on its own. At the thought that she had undone the top of her dress and put his hand on her breast, it all became too much for him. He rolled out of bed and untied his pants. Pushing them roughly to his knees, he wrapped a hand around his cock. A few strokes later, he came. His come splattered the ground narrowly missing the woman on the tarp. Knees trembling from his orgasm, he said, "Oh fuck." Lilly stared at him. Her eyes were wide in awe at the lust he exhibited. She'd never seen a man that excited. She crawled to kneel before him and pulled his hands from his cock. Holding the erect organ in her hand, she said, "That's amazing." "We've got at least eight hours before we get to Crossroads." Malcolm moaned in response to her soft hands caressing his cock. He looked down to see her adoring his cock with the top of her dress around her waist. Her full lush breasts, dark areola, and hard nipples sent a shiver through his body. Never had Lilly seen an erection last so long. He'd already come and, by all that she knew of men, his cock should have shrunk. She rubbed her hand along its length. She fondled his balls with soft little brushes of her fingertips. Lost in her own world of cock worship, she didn't realize the effect that her touch had on Malcolm until he groaned and his cock erupted. Blast after blast of come shot out the end of his cock. Fascinated by a sight she'd never seen, Lilly didn't notice or care that she was getting covered in come. He staggered back and stood on weak knees watching as Lilly slowly realized what she had done. Her hand went down to her come splattered chest and rubbed the come into her skin. Malcolm pulled up his pants and watched as she collected herself. Rather than pull up the top of her dress, she braided her hair so that she could travel. The sight of her topless while braiding her long black hair was sexy beyond belief. It took Malcolm three times longer than normal to break camp. Time seemed to pass with the speed of the Mississippi River in summer time. It was hard to keep from urging the horses into a full gallop to the citadel, but he managed to control his baser desires. It wouldn't have been a good idea trying to ride full out while leading a string of four horses behind him. Every five minutes, he would mutter, "Who ever thought that a month was so long?" He never thought he would be so happy to see a city gate as when he rode through the gates of the citadel. Looking over at Lilly, he could tell that her feelings were much the same. He asked, "So where will we find Harold son of Frederick?" "He should be at his house. It's not too far from here." "I'll follow you," said Malcolm. Even as he said it, he knew it was a mistake. Riding behind her would be torture. Lilly rode a few blocks down the narrow main street of the citadel before turning to the right along a side street. Five minutes later she stopped in front of a house. A large wall with a sturdy gate that provided access to a small courtyard surrounded the house. Pointing to a bell from which hung a thin rope, she said, "We have to announce ourselves." Malcolm climbed off the horse, his legs feeling like rubber from riding so long. He went over to the bell and rang it using the rope. Looking over at Lilly, he said, "It would be easier to yell." "That would be rude." They could hear the sounds of someone entering the courtyard and making their way to the door. The door slowly opened and a young man stepped out. He was about to ask why they were there when he saw Lilly. Excited, he raced over to her and said, "Lilly! I can't believe you're here already. I sent the ransom five weeks ago." "Hello Harold. Thank you for sending the ransom. I fear it wasn't necessary after all," said Lilly. Harold reached up to help Lilly down from her horse. Once she was on solid ground, he held her at arm's length totally captivated by her beauty. It took him a few moments to notice Malcolm standing next to Lilly. Turning to Malcolm, he asked, "And who might you be?" "I'm Malcolm Chandler." "He rescued me from the man who had abducted me," Lilly said looking at the young man. "Oh, so my ransom wasn't delivered," Harold said. He wondered if the man with whom he had sent the money would return. Turning to Malcolm, he extended a hand and said, "Thanks for rescuing Lilly. She means a lot to me." Malcolm shook his hand and then stepped back. Knowing that she was about to break his heart, Lilly said, "There's something I have to tell you." "Did that scoundrel who took you touch you?" Harold asked knowing that he would take her regardless if she felt that the man who had taken her had ruined her for marriage. It would be so much easier to tell him that she had been ruined, but it wasn't the truth. Taking a deep breath, she said, "I can't stay here with you, I'm going with Malcolm." "You stole her!" The anger in his voice died by the time he said the last word. If the man had taken her against her will, they wouldn't have been there. He felt that the explanation was even uglier. "Yes, I suppose I did," Malcolm said. Turning to Lilly hurt beyond words and able to taste his pain in his throat, Harold asked, "Why did you come here? Did you want to rub it in?" "No. I came here because I didn't want you to worry about me. I knew you would try to pay the ransom. I was afraid that when your man came back with the news that he was unable to deliver the ransom, you'd be worried and spend the rest of your life looking for me," explained Lilly holding his hands in hers. "I agreed with her, so we traveled three weeks out of our way to let you know," Malcolm said. He didn't say that it was the most difficult three weeks of his life. "You've told me, so go," Harold said, half in anger and half afraid to say more. Barely able to hold back the emotions flooding over him, he turned to enter the gate. Malcolm pulled out a rather large leather bag from his saddlebag. Clearing his throat, he said, "We have something else for you." Harold turned to look at Malcolm and then at Lilly. His heart felt like it had been broken into a thousand pieces. He didn't want to be there, but he stayed. Lilly took the bag from Malcolm and said, "When he rescued me, he had to burn the house down. In the ashes, I found a jewelry box. I want you to have what was in it." "I can't take this," Harold said looking at the bag without knowing what was inside. Tears were running down Lilly's cheeks as she held out the bag and said, "We don't need or want them. I've got the only piece out of the contents that I want." "What piece?" Knowing that she would have to leave it with Malcolm, Lilly held out the chain that Harold had given her. This was far harder to do than she had expected. The look in Harold's eyes when he saw the thin chain was a mixture of hurt, sadness, and elation. He was hurt because the chain had meant so much to him, sad that he was loosing her, and elated that the chain meant so much to her. Realizing that she had cared for him and that their time together had meant something to her, his tears ran freely down his face. Uneasy by the emotions of the man before him, Malcolm shifted nervously. He knew that anything he said would be interpreted as bragging. He went to his horse and pretended to check out his gear. Not for the first time, he felt that this had been a bad idea. Lilly hugged Harold. At first he resisted, but then clutched her tightly. After a minute, he stepped back and said, "We could have had a good life together." "I know," replied Lilly. The truth was that they had no future together and never did. She was a Damsel from Cassandra, but it was against the rules for him to know that. "Why him?" "He's from my own homeland," answered Lilly feeling it was close enough to the truth that the minor lie didn't matter. "I'd invite you both in, but I don't think that would be wise under the circumstances," Harold said. He turned to Malcolm and, with the trace of a threat in his voice, said, "Take care of her and make her happy." "I'll do so," said Malcolm. The parting was filled with high emotions, but was soon accomplished. As they rode off in search of a place where Malcolm could rid himself of five swords and just as many knives, he said, "That was rough, but you had to do it." "I should have just returned to Crossroads," Lilly said. Her face was still wet with the tears she had shed while saying farewell to Harold. She hadn't realized it would be so hard to tell the young man goodbye. "No. What you just did is what makes you a Damsel," he commented. She rode beside him without making a comment. When they reached the center of the citadel, they found a shop with a sign portraying crossed swords. It was the standard symbol for the shop of an armorer. Malcolm tied up the horses in front of the shop and entered. The man had a very impressive selection of weapons displayed on the counter. Lilly looked around with an eye that didn't appreciate the quality, but even she knew that the weapons were good. The shopkeeper, a bear of a man, looked at Malcolm and the collection of weapons he was carrying. The two men looked at each other, assessing the character of each other. The armorer could see by how Malcolm's eyes sought out only the best in the store that the man knew his weapons. In a deep voice, he said, "I see you've encountered a little adventure. What have you got, five swords?" "Five swords and five knives," answered Malcolm as he set the swords on the counter with a rattle. "Not going to keep a sword for yourself?" "I've got three in storage." "Ah," replied the man. He picked up each weapon examining the workmanship of each blade. One of them was worth two conches, but the other four were worth about half a conch each having been manufactured by a small town blacksmith. Putting them down, he said, "One of them is good, but the other four aren't. I'll probably grind down the edge and blunt the tip. They'll be good enough for training. I won't sell second-rate merchandise. The knives are all so so." "I know. That's why I'm getting rid of them." "Four conch for the lot," said the man. "One conch, thirty shells, and the chain mail gauntlet," countered Malcolm. He already had a chain male gauntlet, but it was nowhere the quality of the one he spotted in the store. The chains were very fine and the workmanship exquisite. The armorer smiled at the counter offer. It was a fair exchange and he nodded his agreement. Malcolm tried three of the gauntlets before selecting one that fit his hand well. The fine links did not restrict his fingers. Satisfied, he said, "They are good gauntlets." "I carry only the best," said the man without sounding like he was bragging. He picked up four of the swords and carried them into the back of the store. Returning with the money, he said, "Here's your money." Malcolm accepted the money and asked, "Where's an honest horse trader?" "Is there such a thing?" asked the armorer with a smile. Horse traders on Chaos had the same reputation as used car salesmen on Earth. "Let me rephrase that, where's a horse trader who's only marginally dishonest?" "By the north gate is a good one. He'll give you fair value for your animals if you know how much to ask," said the man. Lilly and Malcolm left the shop. They rode to the north gate in relative silence. Malcolm was busy trying to figure out how much he would get for the six horses. Lilly was initially thinking about her meeting with Harold. However, the closer they got to the stables the more her thoughts turned to reaching Crossroads and what would occur there. By the time they reached the stables, she was in a pretty good mood. At the stables, Malcolm stopped to examine the horses in the corral. Most of the animals were in pretty good shape, although there was a couple that looked as if they'd seen better days. He frowned at the sight of the horses. A man was working on the gate, replacing one of the pieces of wood. He looked over at Malcolm and saw what he was looking at. The man laughed and said, "I know it doesn't speak highly of me, but I had to buy them." "Why?" "They come from a very good bloodline. The bastard who owned those two didn't know how to treat a horse. Got them a week ago and they were nearly dead. I'll see if I can nurse them back to health," answered the man as he walked over to Malcolm. Shaking his head, he added, "They may be a lost cause, but any colts produced by them will be worth the effort." "You know your horses," Malcolm said after examining them with a more critical eye. Looking over the horses Malcolm was leading, the man asked, "You selling those four?" "I'm selling six and the tack for five of them." The man checked each horse, taking his time. Not only did he check the mouths, hooves, legs, and flanks, but he also listened to their hearts and lungs. It took him about forty minutes to finish examining all six horses. After that, he examined the tack. When he was done, he said, "I'll give you eight conches. It's a good price." "Agreed," Malcolm said. The price was reasonable and he didn't feel like wasting another minute arguing over a few shells. He was horny, Lilly was willing, and the bank was near. ------- Chapter 6 Malcolm climbed out of the healing chamber ready for an afternoon with Alice and then Lilly. He knew that he'd experience the women in the opposite order. A very naked Alice grabbed him by the hand and said, "I think you'll only want to take a shower." "Oh?" asked Malcolm wondering why she wasn't suggesting a bath. "You've been watching that delectable body for a month. If you aren't horny enough right now to have your way with a knothole in the nearest tree, then you aren't the Hero I think you are," teased Alice as she ran her hands over her bare breasts. She knew that she didn't need to excite him since he was already erect. "I don't need a tree," Malcolm said leering at her. Raising his hands up in the air like the claws of a monster, he advanced on Alice roaring like some kind of animal. After his first roar, he said, "I have you." Giggling, she ran to the bathing room followed by a growling Malcolm. She loved it when he felt playful like this. Whenever he came close enough to catch her, he stopped and roared. She screamed, "Help me! I'm being chased by the horny beast!" Roaring again, he resumed the chase. She skipped ahead to the shower and beckoned him to join her. He followed her into the water still holding his hands out like a monster. When the spray hit his body, he screamed and pretended to melt like the wicked witch of Oz fame. She attacked him with a bar of soap and a washcloth, shouting, "I, Alice, am triumphant again. The horny beast is stopped with water!" Malcolm burst out laughing and hugged her to him. He didn't know how she did it, but she always managed to bring out the playful side of him. It was commonly thought that he was overly serious, but that wasn't the case. He liked to play. It was just that it took a special person to bring it out in him. She squirmed out of his arms and, in a mock serious voice, said, "I must get my Hero ready to claim the Damsel." The shower lasted only long enough to get him clean, although she did concentrate a bit more than necessary on the naughty bits. She enjoyed washing his erection. Of course, she enjoyed everything about his erection. Once he was clean, she pushed him out of the shower. The tiny woman couldn't really push him, but he went where her pushes directed. Standing outside the shower, he raised his arms and said, "The horny monster revives!" She giggled and left the shower. After drying him off, Alice grabbed him by the cock and, as she led him to the bedroom, said, "There's a Damsel just begging to be ravished. Make her pay for having teased you for a whole month of the road!" The door opened to show Lilly spread out on the bed. She was lying on her stomach with her legs spread. He could see her face and observed that her eyes were closed. Her ass rose and fell in an obscene manner as she rubbed a hand between her legs. It was obvious that she was masturbating herself to orgasm. He watched for a few seconds appreciating the sight of her body covered by her long hair before he approached the bed. Climbing into the bed, he grasped her hips causing her to gasp in surprise. He pulled her up onto her knees, her right hand stayed between her legs with fingers playing with her clit. Her hot cunt was wet and ready for him. He grabbed a handful of hair in each hand as he entered her with a slow easy thrust. Feeling his cock press against her pussy, Lilly went into overdrive. She pushed back against him, her body desiring him as much or more than her emotions. Lost in a sexual haze, she moaned, "Fuck me." Malcolm didn't need any further invitation. The month of frustration he felt while on the trail had returned. His thrusts increased in pace and strength until he was pounding into her with savage thrusts. Like all women of Cassandra, Lilly came easily, quickly, and frequently. She screamed repeatedly as orgasm after orgasm washed over her. After a minute, she shouted, "You're killing me. Don't stop!" Malcolm increased the pace of his thrusts. He knew from experience that women from Cassandra did not expect endurance. That knowledge made endurance that much easier to achieve. He didn't worry about coming too quickly. As a result, he wasn't in such a rush to come. He released her hair and grabbed her hips. Her cunt was fluttering around his cock in non-stop orgasms. He tightened his grip on her hips and pulled her onto him as he thrust forward. Delirious, Lilly entered an alternate reality of raw sexual energy. She screamed as she lost control of her body and it started to jerk in uncontrolled spasms. A minute later, she lost consciousness. Holding the unconscious woman up, Malcolm pulled out and rolled her over onto her back. Her long hair spread out over the bed. He spread her legs and propped up her hips using a pillow. He waited for her to regain consciousness and for his level of excitement to reduce to a controllable level. When her eyes finally fluttered open, he entered her again. Her eyes opened wide at the idea that he was still capable of performing. Awed, she said, "Oh, fuck me!" Although the month on the trail had prepared Lilly for this, she was incredulous that a man could last so long and be so active in bed. To her way of thinking, she was acting in a masculine manner as far as the standards of Cassandra were concerned. She liked it - she liked it a lot. By the time Malcolm came and pulled out of her, she'd had more orgasms from him than she had ever experienced over her entire life before then. Malcolm woke to Alice handing him a restorative. He drank it down and threw the glass into the air. It disappeared before it hit the ground. As the energy surged through his body, he said, "Thanks. I needed that." Delighted that he'd rendered Lilly unconscious and insensible, she said, "Help me wake Lilly and then do her again." Chuckling, he said, "Do you want me to kill her after I worked so hard to rescue her from certain death?" "Death by fucking! Oh, I like that idea," she giggled. "You would," Malcolm said shaking his head. Looking down at Lilly, she knew the woman would return to Cassandra singing the praises of her Hero. A Caretaker could ask for nothing better. Women all over the world would be envious of her. She gently shook Lilly awake and said, "Here, drink this. It'll give you enough energy for round two." The woman's eyes grew large at the idea that Malcolm was ready to go once again. In an awed voice, she echoed, "Round two." Feeling frisky, Malcolm winked at Alice and said, "After round two will be round three." "Oh my God." Her eyes rolled back into her head when he started kissing her breasts. She really liked having her breasts kissed. Smiling to herself, Alice whispered, "Show her the gates of heaven, my Hero." "Now that's a tasty idea," Malcolm murmured as he kissed his way down towards Lilly's gates of heaven. Several days later, Malcolm, Lilly, and Alice were seated around the dinner table after finishing lunch. Malcolm asked, "So why was Lilly the only Damsel in Distress that I was allowed to rescue? There had to be other Damsels in Distress." "There are four other Damsels in Distress," replied Alice knowing that she was going to have a lot of explaining to do. "So why did you say that hers was the only mission available for me?" "The four Damsels are all in the same kind of distress. It's going to require at least four Heroes to rescue them. By the time you are ready for the adventure, there may be even more Damsels in Distress. The Bureau has discussed this issue and has decided that four Heroes shall have to pursue this together," answered Alice. Malcolm had spent hours reading the rulebook for Heroes and thought he understood them well enough. What she was suggesting seemed in direct violation of one of the rules. There was no way he would be allowed through the portal if it were with the intent of violating a rule. "I thought that according to the rules, Heroes couldn't go on adventures together." "This case is different." "I don't get it," replied Malcolm. He had sufficient resources to raise a small army and would be able to rescue all four Damsels if necessary. "They were captured by slavers and sold into slavery. They work all day in the fields and rest on little shelves in horrid little buildings at night. There is an entire infrastructure in place to keep them as slaves." "Organized slavery!" Malcolm shouted in dismay. The idea that organized slavery had started in Chaos was staggering. He'd thought that the multitude of independent cities, citadels, and holdings would keep organized slavery from raising its ugly head. He knew that slavery existed, but it was usually at a local level and took the form of indentured servitude. "Yes and the practice has spread across an area of a several thousand square miles. You aren't going against a villain, but an evil society united by slavers. This isn't a rescue, but a war," explained Alice. The taking of slaves had started years ago, but none of the Damsels had ever been taken. Then, in the space of two weeks, slavers had taken four Damsels from areas well away from where slavery was practiced. "A war?" "Yes. You and the other Heroes will have to raise armies. In accordance with the rules, you'll need to work independently. That doesn't mean that you can't work towards the same goal. In order for it to work, all of you will need to enter Chaos at the same time." Malcolm was quiet as he thought about what would be involved. A large army would be tens of thousands of men, but he didn't think that four Heroes would be able to gather that many men together. He figured that at best he could raise a hundred men. Shaking his head, he decided that he'd have lots of time to think about it before returning for his next adventure. Lilly had listened to the exchange with wide eyes. The idea that Heroes wouldn't be able to rescue Damsels in the tried and true fashion was scary. Her ordeal had been spent locked up in a room waiting for someone to pay a ransom. Having to work in a field doing manual labor had to be a thousand times worse. She felt sorry for the Damsels who had been struggling while she had traveled in relative comfort. "What do I need to do?" asked Malcolm. "You'll need to get in touch with some of the other Heroes on Earth and arrange for all of them to leave for Crossroads at the same time," answered Alice. The enormity of what they were planning to do was mind boggling. "According to the rules, we aren't allowed to work together." "We debated that and got some clarification. You can't go on the adventure together, but the rules do not prevent you from meeting or coordinating your efforts if you pursue your adventures independently of each other." "So how will we coordinate our efforts and still be independent in our actions?" asked Malcolm still trying to figure out how it would all fit together. "You'll meet at the closest holding to the territory of the slavers. That would be the Jones Citadel," answered Alice. "The Jones Citadel? The one started by Gerald Jones?" "That's the one. Sid's caretaker will give him the necessary credentials to take over the holding on his next visit to Crossroads. He'll host all of the Heroes while you are planning your actions." Looking thoughtful, Malcolm wondered what would happen having several Heroes gathered together in one place. He asked, "How many Heroes?" "We need at least four, maybe more," answered Alice. "You still haven't answered my original question. How do we coordinate our actions and yet act independent of each other?" "You'll meet and share whatever resources are necessary to raise four armies. Each of you will lead an army on your own front. That way, you won't be fighting each other, but you'll each be on your own." Almost a month and many discussions about the upcoming war later, Malcolm was relaxing in bed playing with Alice's breasts when Lilly came into the room with an excited expression on her face. Hardly able to contain herself, she announced, "I'm pregnant!" Alice and Malcolm climbed out of the bed. Reaching her, they hugged and congratulated the mother to be. As the two women talked, Malcolm waited patiently wishing he would have a few more minutes with Alice before he had to leave. It didn't take long before Lilly raced to the door. Turning back to look at him, she said, "Malcolm, thanks a lot." "You're welcome," he called back to her. He was going to miss her. He always missed the Damsels after they left. She'd been an exceptionally attractive woman and a good lover. She even enjoyed the attentions of Alice. Malcolm made his way to the portal, but Alice stopped him before he could enter it. She looked up at the ceiling and said, "Contact information for Heroes on Earth." A sheet of paper appeared on the floor at her feet. She knelt down and picked it up. Already, Malcolm was feeling nauseous from overstaying in Crossroads. She handed him the paper and, pushing him towards the portal, said, "I love you, my Hero." Looking through the portal door as it closed behind him, Malcolm said, "I love you, my Caretaker." Malcolm stepped out of the portal into his private room. He turned and looked at the mirror thinking that he had lived two months in heaven and only fifteen minutes had passed on Earth. He would have to wait three weeks before he could return. Putting down the sheet of paper, he went over to his pile of clothes and dressed trying to remember what he was supposed to do upon his return to Earth. Returning was often rough, since for him weeks may have passed while he had gone through the portal. How many people could remember what they were doing weeks ago? He was fully dressed and still didn't recall what he had been doing before leaving. Running a hand over the frame, he swung the mirror back into place. When it settled in place, he said, "Until I see you again, Alice." Carrying the piece of paper in his hand, he left his most cherished room with a sense of sadness. He always felt sad after leaving Crossroads for Earth. His life on Earth was so empty compared to life in Crossroads and Chaos. On reaching the living room, he placed the paper with the contact information for the other Heroes next to the telephone. He looked out the back window and spotted his neighbor raking his leaves. He watched for a minute before he recalled that he was supposed to talk to the daughter about joining his dojo. He glanced down at the paper knowing that he would get to it after dealing with the neighbor. Stepping out of the back door, he was greeted by the girl from next door. She was standing sullenly on the patio, arms crossed below her breasts, and one hip thrust out. The expression on her face left no doubts that she didn't want to be there. When she spotted him, she said, "My father said you wanted to talk to me." "Not really, Susan. He asked if I would train you in the martial arts and I said that I would do that only if you wanted to learn them. You don't, so end of conversation," said Malcolm as he turned to go into the house. "Hey, wait a minute," said Susan shocked at his dismissal of her without even asking her opinion about her dad's request. "What? You were standing there like you wanted to be anywhere else but here. We're done. You can go somewhere else," Malcolm said. He wasn't going to waste his time trying to get her interested in learning Aikido. She either had an interest or she didn't. "My dad says that I have to take it." "The last thing I need is to have your father breathing down my neck because you aren't willing to put the time, effort, and energy into learning a very ancient and difficult skill. Do all three of us a favor and tell your father that you aren't interested," said Malcolm. Like most teenage girls of modern times, Susan was used to getting her way. Rather than being relieved that she didn't have to attend martial arts lessons, his attitude had only whetted her appetite. No one was going to dismiss her like that and get away with it. Standing up straight and putting her hands on her hips, she said, "You're going teach me." "Nope." "Yes, you are." "Not until I'm convinced that you're willing to learn. Until then, I won't even invite you to my dojo. Now run along home, little girl," said Malcolm. Susan spun around and stomped off with her hands in fists. Her rigid arms swung in time with her steps adding to the impression of fury. Her father moved to intercept her, but after one look at the expression on her face he backed away. She brushed past him like he wasn't even there. Malcolm watched her leave with a smile. She'd be back before the week was over with the proper attitude and interest. Two of his best students had started the same way. When his neighbor headed in his direction, Malcolm held up a hand with his first finger extended and shook him away. Satisfied, he returned to the house. After pouring an iced tea, Malcolm settled down in his chair and picked up the sheet of paper with contact information. Looking over the names, he wondered how many of them spoke English. He picked up the telephone and dialed the number for Sid Jones. After three rings, a young man answered the phone, "Hello." "Hello. Do I have the pleasure of speaking with Sid Jones?" The voice at the other end was cautious, "Yes." "I'm Malcolm Charles Chandler. Your uncle and I traveled in the same circles. I was quite saddened to hear the news when my caretaker informed me of his death. I offer my condolences. Your uncle was a great man and will be missed by many," Malcolm said. "Thank you. You say that you and my uncle traveled in the same circles?" "Yes. We visited many of the same places, although never at the same time," Malcolm said. "Thank you for calling." Malcolm could tell that Sid was on the verge of hanging up. He said, "My caretaker informed me that you have taken to traveling in the same circles as well. That is the primary reason that I have called you. There is a problem in Chaos." "Are you sure that we're allowed to talk with each other?" "Why not? How can we recruit new heroes if we don't know them? Why should we give up friendships because we are Heroes?" asked Malcolm. There was a long moment of silence on the other end of the line. Malcolm wondered if he had lost Sid when the young man answered, "What kind of problem is there on Chaos?" "Organized slavery on a very large scale. The caretakers are convinced that it's too big for one hero. We are to wage a war against slavers and free four Damsels. The caretakers have asked me to get at least three other heroes to come to Crossroads in three weeks. That will be Sunday afternoon, three weeks from today, at one o'clock Eastern Daylight Savings Time." "I've read the rules. We can't work together." "We won't be working together. We'll each take charge of an army and wage war on our own front. After we leave your Citadel, we won't have any interactions. The caretakers have given this a lot of thought," replied Malcolm. He was pleased that Sid asked all of the same questions that he had asked. There was a long pause and then Sid asked, "What Citadel?" "Your Citadel." "My Citadel?" "Yes. Your uncle established the Jones Citadel. You have inherited it," said Malcolm. "No one said anything about a Citadel to me." There was a definite tone of mistrust in Sid's voice. Smiling, Malcolm said, "She's giving you credentials to take over it when you get to Crossroads." "Okay," said Sid having decided that there was something very odd about this discussion. Malcolm could hear that Sid had doubts about this call. He changed the subject. "Now that I've given you the message from the caretakers, let me pass along my own message." "What?" "First, you did an amazing job of taking down the Surgeon. I don't think I could have done that. I once watched him dice a man up into little pieces. It wasn't pretty." "Thank you." "Second, you should have killed him. He's a mean bastard who will hunt you down." "I'll keep that in mind." Malcolm said, "I'm serious. He's a very nasty customer and doesn't need a reason to kill someone. You've given him a reason to kill you. I just thought I should warn you so that you won't be taken by surprise when he comes after you." "Thanks." Malcolm managed to talk Sid into taking down his telephone number. It took some effort, but he managed to get Sid to promise that he would call back after he had a chance to think about it for several days. Knowing Gerald by reputation, Malcolm was satisfied that Sid would keep his promise. After hanging up, Malcolm studied the contact list. There were close to twenty names on the list with at least half of them from the orient. It made sense that there were so many from the orient since there was still a strong martial arts tradition at work there. A Sensei would introduce his better students to the portal and those that survived would continue their training with even greater diligence. He was planning to do the same for two of his students when they were ready. Picking up the phone, he went to work trying to line up two more heroes for this war. He picked a name from Japan hoping the idea of being a warlord would interest one of the Japanese Heroes. After the first one hung up on him because he didn't speak Japanese, he decided that this was going to be far harder than he imagined. ------- The End ------- Posted: 2005-10-17 Last Modified: 2005-10-31 / 12:02:20 am ------- http://storiesonline.net/ -------