A Daemon-Horn Blade Ch. 18

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It was rather strange, the feeling of being alone or nearly so, on the road once more. Just the pair of lads, Gwenda, the Foole and his apprentice Ashburn, and of course the Lady Ayleth. It was frightening how fast they could ride on the good southern road without a regiment, battalion, brigade or now an entire full army to deal with. No one was bothered in their sleep now with constant requests for orders that needed to given, and for at least now, there were little or no worries about the future. They covered a full twenty leagues the first day alone, allowing their horses to stretch their legs into a gallop for a full league at a time before giving them a rest and then into a slight trot. The sixty-two leagues to the base of Dragonstooth Mountain were accomplished in three solid days of travel, allowing them to take the twisting serpentine road half-way up the side of the mountain to enter the main great stone city gates just before mid-day.

Dragonstooth was a very old city, perhaps one of the oldest surviving ones that the Histrio knew of, but now it was a warren for tradesmen, rather than misshapen monstrous creatures of past legend. Dragonstooth Mountain was once an old home of the Dragonkin, ages ago, the Lore-Master quietly stated, as they crossed under a great many of the old carved stone arches that led to different parts of the city. Carved into the very sides of the great cone shaped mountain, which did greatly resemble a great stone fang reaching high into the sky, the city was as much a cave complex with buildings carved right out from the heart and sides of the stones, as it was of brick, dressed stone or timber. Arches supported upper buildings above while new alleyways were dug ever deeper into the sides of the mountain.

"There is more loose coin to be gathered under these arches or inside of these innumerable caverns than anywhere under the skies. More perhaps than in rich Corælyn herself. There is nearly no trade that happens anywhere in the Southern Duchies that the factors here do not collect a few pence, and all land trade from Broadmore to Aldaria must traverse this mountain city and these pathways. It is here that the old and the new cross pathways... for a gléaman, there is almost no better place than here to listen for news of the world, and to gather coins for travel. We shall stay here and rest for a day or two while I do both. Within a week, should we find a swift coastal ship, we shall be wallowing in the wickedness that is Corælyn, to see her thousands of exotic sights, and to complete at least part of what we have struggled to achieve!"

"Must we delay here?" The Lady Ayleth grumbled. "We really can't get there at all soon enough to satisfy me! I must get back home, to tell my father everything that has occurred so far, and to see the despoliation of my lands, where the Boar-Men have already crossed into our western lands. I fear that I will return home to nothing but waste, to find that all has been lost. This quest has brought nothing but grief to me so far. So many have already died, while I have fled from danger and have been packaged off under protection, away from both harm and glory. When the gléamen sing their songs of these fearful days, my name, and that of my father, will be sung of little, save in belittling satire, and of how others died in our names while we suffered not a scratch. Speak not of the honor and the glories of Lady Ayleth's Own Brigade, or even her Regiment, for those glorious deeds were done by others, and concern not me!"

Her outburst completed, the Lady resumed her normal silence, and prayed that sometime soon her ordeal might yet be over. In truth, hearing of the great accomplishments, glories and deeds of her famed army now quite galled her! Her champion had indeed led with his sword in her name, but never had she been allowed the slightest order or command to be given by her own voice. It had all been done in her name only, with her as the merest figurehead, no longer even nominally essential any more. In the new even larger army structure, no one even marked her presence.

She had spent her entire life using people, and rather enjoying herself in the process, she had to grudgingly admit. But now, she was the one who had been used, and she didn't much at all care for it. More than ever, she wanted for this to all be over. She wanted to return home, even into the very teeth of danger. At least this way, she would be once again in command of her own destiny. She would regale her father with the terrors that she had seen and she would gather up the western duchy army with her own hands if necessary and prepare it to fight! If she had to command it herself, she would do so! Scars on her face be damned!

If the Foole kept playing his silly games with everyone while the armies of the south pissed away their time waiting for the Duke of Drakland to see sense, then her home and her people could all be destroyed while everyone else fiddled away their time! The Foole and even the damned Moon-Woman were right about at least one thing, she had allowed herself to not care about the Duchy for some time, in fact, quite for most of her life. But now she did care, or at least enough now to want to do something about it rather than being set aside under constant guard in her tent, to be kept away from trouble at all times.

Ok, she sometimes hadn't acted her best during this trip, but why didn't anyone trust her now to do the right things? When the moment came to act, she would be ready! Of that she now vowed!

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For Rowan and Gwenda, their arrival at a fine inn near the top of the mountain city, meant that they had some real privacy together for the first time since they left Kenniford. The Foole was well known at this inn, which catered to the most well-heeled of travelers, and even his demand for four separate bedrooms with their full board as well, in return for his professional services for a few days, didn't deter the innkeeper in the slightest from agreeing to the bargain. For the duration of the joculator's stay, his taproom would be filled to capacity and coins would be happily spent like rain falling from the air, while the gléaman was in residence.

What Gwenda and the Lady Ayleth soon discovered, to their immense delight and glee, was that there were two private bath rooms in the bottom cellar, complete with piping hot water from the mountain. As one of the bath rooms were already taken by a mixed group of other guests, the ladies at once appropriated the other one and wasted little if any time scraping off their dirty traveling clothes and immersing themselves into the steaming mineral waters.

"Do we still have a truce?" The Lady Ayleth asked her companion, with but a barely cracked eye as weeks of travel and emotional strain began nearly at once to melt off of her body.

"Oh... yeah... definitely!" Gwenda lazily replied as she sunk her still wounded shoulder under the delightfully soothing hot waters. Her headache, which still affected her off and on, was receding very much into off, and she soon even dared herself to completely relax for the very first time since her family holding had been overrun months ago. Freed for a time from the worries of the brigade, and ensured that Rowan couldn't agonize excessively over the fate of his men and women, she surrendered to the comfort and placidness of the hot tub, which could be easily kept heated to the perfect temperature by the slow adding of additional near boiling water from a pipe that came straight from the volcanic depths of the mountain.

Too tired now for words, both women just snoozed exhaustedly in the great steaming wooden tub, and only Ayleth could manage to even crack an eyelid when the bath room door opened, to reveal the curious faces of Rowan and Boyle, who had just had the notion of enjoying a hot soak themselves. They were just starting to close the door, to leave the ladies to their peace when Gwenda invited them in.

"Come join us!" She purred. "The water is just wonderful!"

"They can't get in with us!" Ayleth squeaked, lowering herself into the tub so that the water came right up to the top of her neck. "It wouldn't be proper! They could easily see that we're undressed!"

Gwenda laughed. "My, you have had a sheltered upbringing! Men and women bathed together all of the time, at my old home. And Rowan's told me that the custom was the same back at his home village. The tub room next door is certainly filled with both men and women, all from Aldaria, I think. They certainly have very little if any modesty there either! Besides, I rather think I'd enjoy having Rowan wash my back and then just hold me in his arms. And if you'd like to play footsie with Boyle under the water, I'm sure that we wouldn't at all care or mind!"

Gwenda stood up in the tub to greet her lover Rowan, giving his friend Boyle a rather good look at all of her charms. Boyle smiled but shrugged; it was quite true that in regards to bathing, there were very little if any taboos on nudity, and even the sight of an another new pair of rather pretty breasts was quite unremarkable. Becoming nude themselves, the lads slowly climbed into the large wooden hot tub and eased themselves into the hot steamy water. With a laugh, Boyle couldn't but help to notice that the Lady Ayleth, while protecting her own modesty, had taken quite an extensive look at Boyle's own more intimate regions, apparently quite intrigued with the overall size and thickness of his manhood, which compared nearly quite as favorably to Rowan's just slight longer member.

"You're gawking, My Lady! Perhaps you'd now like to come and sit over next to me, so that I might scrub your back, should you wish? I'll even play footsie with you, if you'd like!" He laughed, splashing some steaming water at her. Ayleth, for her part, just hid herself deeper into the water, and tried to keep herself as far away from the lad, and other the increasingly amorous couple that was kissing next to her, as she could. Their back washing now quite done, Gwenda was now sitting on Rowan's lap, facing her lover, and the two were softly but deeply kissing. Some splashing below the water, from some adjustment of Gwenda's hips, strongly suggested that the young woman had just mounted herself upon Rowan's cock. Slowly and not particularly overtly, she was grinding and thrusting her pubic mound into his, letting her talented cunt muscles perform most of the hard work.

Increasingly embarrassed, Ayleth decided that for decency's sake, she really needed to leave, to allow the increasingly passionate couple some privacy. But on the other hand, if she arose from the tub, then Boyle would have an unobstructed view of her own naked body. This was an indignity that a noblewoman couldn't allow.

"Boyle, please... can you turn your head so that I can get out of the water and wrap myself into a towel to leave?" She asked. The lad just laughed.

"Mi'lady, your soft white breasts are really little different than anyone else's, and you should find little shame in occasionally displaying them to public view, but I shall do as you request... even though admittedly, you did not offer the same courtesy to me when I disrobed earlier, and in all fairness I would be more than due a quick peak at your lovely bare ass!"

"You wouldn't!" She hissed, but her mind wasn't quite on the matter of keeping the bold former stable boy in his place. From the corner of her eye she could see that Rowan now had both hands wrapped around Gwenda's breasts, squeezing them, alternating taking each long lovely nipple into his mouth for loving attention, as she more than obviously was riding him.

Ayleth's own crotch was tingling with need; she still hadn't managed to give herself even the smallest bit of an orgasm since that dreadful day at the pavilion, and she was nearly overwhelmed with sexual frustration. She just couldn't watch any more of this passionate exhibition, watching the lovers embrace so boldly, and so publicly... and so much obvious love and affection.

In an instant she realized what had been bothering her so, watching Gwenda ride her man and giving him pleasure. She was jealous! She wanted to be the one mounted upon her champion, to feel his thickness stretch her wide and deeply for their pleasure. It was his seed that she longed for to fill her, to bear the future king of the south, for that she was now sure must be their destiny! Only Rowan, and his sword, could bind together the five duchies in war... and later in peace – but he would need a suitable bride of noble birth, to bring legitimacy to their... his claims.

But as always, someone was constantly standing in the way of her perfect plans!

With anger now roaring through her veins, Ayleth stood up in the water exposing her naked body quite fully so that Rowan could see what was being offered to him. But lost in his passion for his beloved, Rowan had eyes only for Gwenda and he was oblivious to the sight of the other nude offering before him, his eyes and lips remained focused on his beloved companion.

"Nice tits." Boyle casually commented. "And your ass looks quite nice as well... which reminds me, I owe it a hard spanking for that nonsense that you pulled on me for the Dead Tree Island rescue fiasco. Would you like to enjoy it now, or should I take an appointment for later?"

"Much later!" Ayleth snarled and turned to step out of the tub, but in her anger and due to her haste, she slipped and stumbled while trying to step out of the large wooden tub and fell backwards, right into the alert waiting arms of Boyle. Now caught quite tightly in his strong arms, Ayleth found herself quite helpless, still naked and squirming in his burly grasp. The swine even had the nerve to pinch her ass with his right hand, as he held firmly onto her butt cheek and hip! She squawked and thrashed her arms and legs about, but he held her quite secure. Arising himself from the water, Boyle carried the helpless Lady out of the tub and then gently set her feet down onto the stone floor and to freedom and handed her a towel to cover her dripping naked body.

"Please My Lady, do let me know if I can be of any further help or assistance to you!" He said with a wink, and he just stood there smiling at her, quite naked, and with just a bit of an erection growing as well. Sour personality or not, he had to admit that Ayleth was a rather attractive young lady with a good figure, who would make entirely adequate dalliance material, under the proper circumstances.

In her shame and fury, the Lady threw on her robe and gathered up her clothes to leave, but not before briefly pausing for another examination of Boyle's increasingly more aroused nether region. Impossible behavior or not, she had to admit that the lad was more than well equipped for properly entertaining amorously minded young ladies. Later she tried to masturbate herself for several long hours afterwards to the thought of Rowan thrusting inside of her, just as he had serviced his doxy earlier. Somehow her fantasy lover kept turning into a cheekily grinning Boyle and it was his large slab of cockmeat that she saw in her minds-eye instead, swelling up for her for her pleasure and delight. Horrified, that she could even think to masturbate to the thought of being serviced by a stable boy, she gave herself a colder bath from an icy cold water pump until she quite shivered all over, but no longer from arousal or sexual need. Her long postponed orgasm would have to wait yet awhile further for relief.

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For the Lady Ayleth, the three days that she waited in Dragontooth were the longest days of waiting that she could ever remember. She paid hardly a concern to the information that the gléaman obtained concerning the latest political events of the Imperial Court in Corælyn, and even less about the tedious mundane gossip about which factions were in and out of power in court, except that she remembered hearing that the Yfelde Soð religious faction was very much in ascendance these days, and involving themselves in an active military purge of the remaining factions of the other Banished Gods. While she quite enjoyed court gossip under most circumstances, the love that the Aldarians had for official dueling and murder as acceptable court politics, quite astonished and confused her.

As the Foole reminded everyone, when their swift coastal ship took them into the western entrance of the great canal of Corælyn, less than a week later, "The Aldarian Blessed Sapphire Empire, like its very name, was an overly excited amalgamation of a dozen lands, customs and interests; often all quite contradictory. They're an excitable race living in a hot and humid city sandwiched in-between two sea coasts, so they live and breathe on the edge of their skin, with a flourish of emotion. They wear few clothes, even in cool weather, have fewer morals, let alone any codes of ethics, and view our more northern inclinations toward excess honor as both curious and lamentable. They live for trade, for wealth, and the physical comforts that this brings them. They take offense at the drop of a hat and duel, often to the death, at any affront to their peculiar codes of social status. As foreigners, we are exempt from their dueling codes, but kept your thoughts, eyes and hands to yourself, and above all, when in doubt keep your mouth shut as much as possible!"

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Perhaps the largest city in the known world, even greater than Caestor, Corælyn, the capitol of Aldaria, and the Blessed Sapphire Empire, lay on both sides of a long canal separating a long isthmus, north and south. While both the northern and southern parts of Aldaria possessed good farming lands, as did several colony and client states to the southeast and south, it was trade that made this great city the very byword for wealth and excess.

A very famous Caestorian poet remarked in one of his epics that "Not every man can go to Corælyn!" The city was famously expensive and notorious for its licentiousness, being filled with literally tens of thousands of brothels in all sections of the city, with services for every taste and budget. For every need, no matter how base, there was someone willing and eager to supply it.

With the long canal stretching between the Great Western Sea to the Inner Sea for about twelve leagues, the city sprawled out over this full length between the four great forts that protected each north and south entrance to the great canal, and thusly well protected, the merchants, factors, sailors and noblemen all lived life to the fullest. Earning vast fortunes and spending them in ever greater and more ostentatious manners than their neighbor.

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Living life to the fullest, the men and women of Corælyn also spared no expense or excess in their service to the gods. In fact, it could be clearly noted that every temple to each and every one of the banished or lost gods remained open, and with complete services rendered, to the best of the priests limited means. Particularly, the great open air temple to the god Lufestræm, the God of Love, located upon the highest southwestern hill of the city, was still considered the largest brothel known of in the entire world, said to have over a thousand sacred temple prostitutes. Despite the Banishment, it was still considered part of the normal historic rite of passage for all young women to formally symbolically offer up their virginity to the god, to serve for a day as a temple prostitute on their sixteenth birthday. Losing their virginity to a stranger, via the proxy of a small fee paid by a masked stranger to the temple.

Disturbingly often, this service was secretly performed by a father, uncle or other close male family friend, and occasionally by all the above at once. Incest was just one of many vices that were mostly topics for amused gossip rather than a scandalous act of shame.