Chapter 13: Chapter 12. Plugging the Leak

Irje’s fingers scratched the wall she was desperately trying to brace against. The low hiss of pleasure slipped past her lips.

“Careful now. You don’t want to alert everyone on the streets to what is happening here,” I chided, busy with my task.

Something that was both delayed and quickened by the view in front of me. The intimately familiar tone of her skin, her arched back and the tiny beads of sweat. Irje was a tall girl by all standards and I didn’t feel like changing my height anytime soon. Which meant she had to work a little bit harder just to stay at my level.

“Don’t care,” She panted, keeping at her pace, “They can watch if they want to.”

Emanai urban clothing usually consisted of tunics with variable length, as well as outer loose kaftans for ladies and khalats that were wrapped tighter for men. Throw in some sandals and that was all you had on you. Breezy during the hottest times of the day but capable of blocking a chilly wind early in the day. Or at night.

It also provided quick and easy access to other activities. One just had to lift the skirt.

“I do.” My palm smacked her butt, hard enough for a muffled yelp. “If we are going to gather the audience the bet is off — I will not be parading you for all to see. You are mine.”

Irje bit her knuckle muffling her sounds even further but I could still hear the quiet purr coming out of her throat.

Loud enough for me to notice but quiet enough to be completely drowned by the noises of a nearby street. We were in a tiny nook behind some buildings, far enough from traffic to be deserted but not that remote to be often used as a latrine by some drunk.

I hummed in pleasure as she pushed herself on and off of me. Yet my eyes were mostly on the wooden piece in my hands.

If I were to carve some runes, might as well combine pleasure with business. Especially since I had a desperate, aroused, and highly dedicated mage right in front of me.

Emanating whatever magical field they did to power said runes.

I made a first one, a simple glow, just to confirm that too. Now I worked under the faint glimmer of blue, that spiked every time Irje took me completely inside. Perhaps I should adjust the size of my dick one day just to see her reaction.

But that would wait — she was already having a hard time staying on the slightly bent knees. Any more sensations and her task of getting me off, before I finish with my own work, would be compromised.

And we couldn’t have that.

I smiled as she picked up the pace, trying to distract me from my work and push me over the edge. Irje knew her time was running out quickly and her desire to win this bet was intoxicating by itself.

The chisel drew another line.

I had some practice carving the runes, I even designed some custom ones around my old house with the help of a book and Albin’s toy. Much more complex than the tiny glowing squiggle I just made: these weren’t just sensitive but also correctly pointed out the source of the Flow.

And these were the ones that revealed to us Irje was in fact capable of emitting the magical energies that separated wer from wermages. Or maybe all wer were capable of that — I still had more research to do about magic.

About runes too. The organic runes of that alien carapace made me realize that I could try to replicate them on my own armour. They would be dull and inert most of the time since I lacked whatever magical muscle wer and wermages had. But if I was face to face with a wermage or, stars forbid, against the creature of the Forest — There was a high chance that I could use their own magic against them.

I also had to take a closer look at Shahin’s shackles. If my scales could negate nearby mages it would be a game-changer.

Another squiggle and a second rune was now in place. A complex geometric shape that somehow meant toughness. A very common rune across wermage residences. Wrena must be busy carving these across my estate, lest the furniture faces the similar fate of my broken bathhouse. I originally thought wermages simply liked the design but now I knew that these runes were essential in their everyday lives.

Once the emotions start flying, they found it uncomfortably easy to supercharge their strength and break things on accident.

And I didn’t want Irje to break this no matter where the emotions would take her.

“Two out of three,” I murmured.

Irje whined and tried to pick up the pace. Only to falter even more as her legs buckled from another climax.

That wouldn’t do. I needed her high and needy, and not lost in yet another bliss halfway.

My hands wrapped around and lifted her weight off the floor. I pushed deep and hard — sheathing myself entirely. I held her hips and kept thrusting while Irje took a desperate break with her cheek against the wall. Panting hard into the bricks she faced without care. In her quest for silence, she had forgotten to breathe altogether.

I kept her steady as my hand palmed her burning mound, feeling every single heartbeat through the pulsing of her folds under my fingers. Rubbing and groping her needy and pliant flesh without care. Feeling the tickle of her damp hair around her equally drenched slit.

“Is that all you got?” I teased into her floppy ear as my fingers found her nipple under the dress and pinched it hard, lifting up her voluptuous breast in the process, “Where is that insatiable cougar?”

“You!” Irje breathed in an outrage, pushing me back, “You want to play dirty? I’ll show you how it’s done!”

She pushed me back into the opposite wall and slammed herself on me again and again. Seeing her triumphant smirk I merely raised my eyebrow and calmly started carving again, motivating her even further.

I had quite an experience carving the last rune, but I took my time. Irje had intimate knowledge of how to ride me and ride me well, but I kept myself at bay. I waited for her grunts to slowly shift back to the gasps of pleasure, for her desire to be the winner to adulterate by the need to reach another peak.

And then I let myself go.

I gripped her tight and close as I came inside of her, again and again, filling her up but denying her the final step to her pleasure.

“Erf!” She groaned as I slowly started to pull out, outrage and betrayal personified. Her muscles held on to me tight, milking me to the last drop in the process and keeping everything inside.

“Shhh,” I ignored the threat in her voice, “You’ve won the bet, but we aren’t done yet.”

As I spoke, my hand slowly dragged my finished project across her ravaged butt. Glowing red from abuse but eager for more. A small piece of wood of a peculiar shape. Glowing and strengthened.

Vibrating.

She squeaked as I pushed it in, plugging her ass tightly with all that mess I left inside.

“Do you feel it?” I let her collapse on my lap as I stroked the tanned flesh.

“Damn it, Erf!” She moaned, wiggling her butt under my hand, “It is not enough!”

“Obviously, it wouldn’t be a punishment after all,” I mused.

As her eyes widened in realization, I continued, “You will keep it on for the rest of the day too, hopefully, Anaise would be amenable to your suggestion.”

Another whimper was the only answer.

“Good girl.”

 

Tarhunna Kiymetl Wafiq

The sound of music stopped as he approached. One of Anaise’s future wives sat quietly on the bench near the recently built glass ovens. With a tiny girl frantically whispering into her ear.

A guide most likely.

Well, there was no need to stay quiet anymore.

“Your sight is in my heart, young one. That was a piece of delightful music coming out of such a strange instrument.”

She put it aside and stood up carefully, “And your name is on my lips, Tarhunna Wafiq. Are you seeking my husband?”

Guarded and suspicious. Yeva — that is how his daughter called her. He expected something like this, however. That was his point of being here in the first place.

“No, I came here to talk with you.”

“Me?” Yeva pushed the girl behind her, “I confess, you have me at a loss here.”

What an interesting phrase. Didn’t even sound murk-like, just as her musical instrument. The one Erf was so eager to have crafted for himself even employing the favour from Shebet Speaker to have the strings made out of metal.

And now Yeva had it. And now she spoke with the dialect of a murk daimon too.

She had so much power and influence without even realizing it.

“I know a few renowned healers that I have met among my journeys. If you wish, I could send a missive for one to try and heal your sight.”

“Thank you,” Yeva spoke very slowly, carefully picking the correct words to say, “Your wife and your daughter had been…pessimistic about the Flow healing my sight, but Erf had promised me my sight back in the near future. If he fails I would be happy to consider your offer.”

A dead-end then, he had thought internally. Judging by the words left unspoken both by Aikerim and Anaise, Erf had significant power at his disposal. Whether it was Flow-related or not was of less importance: it worked and it worked well enough for Domina to act as if she was planning a coup while throwing her firstborn daughter at the daimon. Throwing was also a stretch — his daughter was already impossible to peel off.

Tarhunna had thoughts about his prowess in the bed before. He had a body pleasing to the eye and all the reports he had acquired told him said murk had comparable skills to a well-trained Companion slave and unending stamina to boot. That could have swayed the tail of his young and naive daughter.

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But not his wife.

It was that fact alone that made him reconsider making sure, most forcibly, that Erf was not taking advantage of Anaise.

Well, and her proclamation that he would be under Domina’s shield and all punishments would have to go through her. Hard to circumvent that.

Aikerim was still quite guarded about the whole situation but, over the last century, he learnt to trust his wife. Her acumen was sharp back then and it was even sharper now. The gambit with Shahin was the proof of that.

“Knowing about your husband, my help would be unneeded. Please, you don’t have to fear my presence so much.”

“My husband would be happy to hear your words, I…” She visibly struggled with his blatant approach, “I am merely not used to speaking with these of your status. After all, you are the husband of Domina, and father of the Lady of the House. Only two are above you in this Manor.”

Yeva was rather sharp, she felt the rocks under the water of the conversation despite having no formal education. Although she definitely received some — artists had to understand their patrons’ desires too.

“You fear my status. You shouldn’t. Not anymore,” Tarhunna summarized.

“Take that lamura, busy working with the fires over there. I see she still has her shackles on. Do you think she would run away or dare to hurt you if these shackles would break?”

“I dare not think what brews in that vile mind.”

“Well, let me assure you that she wouldn’t. She is scared for a single hair to fall from your head. You couldn’t see but she had been sneaking glances at us throughout this conversation and I can guarantee that if I show any hostility toward you, Shahin would be the first at Domina’s doorstep. Imploring her to interfere.”

“She is afraid of my husband.”

“To some degree, yes. More importantly — she is afraid of Domina and what she could do in the future. Erf is a threat to her that she couldn’t remove. Aikerim is a threat to her that she is unable to touch at all. After all, the strongest shackles are in your mind.”

“If one is wise enough to understand the repercussions.”

“She is, definitely, now. I wished to talk about that power. Aikerim’s power. And through her — it becomes his and yours. This is the power of social connection that grants you the ability to order a prominent wermage around and expect nothing less but obedience. This is the power that you now are wielding without even realizing it. The rank of the envoy is not given lightly: she was the voice of her entire Manor across the seas. You should think more about it in the future.”

“I am still a slave,” She blurted out, “Erf treats me like a person, and that is all I care about. My Erf, my sadaq. If you think that I wish to delve into the world of wermages you are mistaken.”

“I don’t think you want to. I think you should. Your position had given you power, lots of it. And you can use that power for the benefit of your sadaq. Especially once you grow into that power and let it grow with you.”

“Grow?”

“You have no training, young one. That is not an insult but the truth. Talk to Domina, me, or even our daughter and you will have a rhetor teaching you personally, showing you the ropes, and giving you the tools to navigate the murky waters of such conversations. To bring your current capabilities even further. Or even use your music to make it soar.”

Yeva bristled, “I belong to Erf! I will not lower myself to be a performer for anyone with a pouch of cuts.”

He shook his head, “Do you know the difference between prostitutes and Companions?”

“How much they do get paid.”

“Respect.” He corrected her, “While they can ask for larger sums of money, and receive it, some do it for free out of their own volition. Yet they are venerated for their skill while others are derided for their low status. Same could be said about the performers and the kitharists. Ones are playing for the scraps to the whim of their crowd and the latter gather wealthy listeners, eager to hear the latest song and pay dearly both in gold as well as favours.”

“But why now?”

“Don’t you wish to offer something bigger to your sadaq than what you have right now?” Yeva twitched from his question. She most certainly did.

“That was not my question, however,” Oh, there was a hint of steel in her voice. Impressive, “Why are you telling me this now?”

“An advice. My daughter is in this sadaq and I wish her well and through her — to all of you. If the sadaq would falter, Anaise would suffer as a result.”

“Will she?” Yeva pressed on, “She has more to gain if we are absent from the picture, and yet you are here trying to strengthen my position or so you claim. And so soon as well. This isn’t about sadaq — it is about the Feast isn’t it?”

Tarhunna sighed, “And this is why I think you have the means to learn and use the rhetorics but lack experience with it. Your mind is sharp to see details but sometimes a blunt approach isn’t the best one. You can learn the true motives through other means but brazenly pressing for details would only antagonize the other person. Worse — how would you know their answer is the honest one after such a question?

“It is about Feast and it is about Anaise’s place in it. I have no fear saying it because knowing about my reasons would only sway you further. That is the true skill of such conversations — not to threaten someone to do your bidding but to make it so that it was their idea all along.

“I know my daughter well — I am her father. I know Irje — she had been a loyal servant of Aikerim long before she established this Manor. I am also fairly certain about Erf — his character is unique but consistent. I’ve heard about the dilemma of the Feast. From my knowledge I can infer none of them was immediately against it — they do not feel threatened by Anaise’s apparent jump in position. Yet they held their tongues. Because there is one unknown. You.”

“Do you think I undermine my sadaq?” Yeva hissed.

“No, I think that you need to understand the power you cast on them, especially through Erf. And you need to claim something for yourself. Some facet of purpose across the sadaq, something that would set you as an equal among others. At least in your eyes. Do these things benefit me in return? Perhaps, but are you willing to sabotage yourself and yours simply out of spite for something I had said today? From what I could tell — unlikely.”

She sighed and turned away, “I thank you for your assistance. Your words of praise about my music are generous as they are lavish. I need to think in peace right now, alone.”

“Seek my help if you wish, or seek the help of others. And don’t ignore my words about music either. While your skill at it is adequate, what matters more is the unique sound and the style of your songs. Let me tell you as an envoy of Kiymetl — there are a lot of rich and very influential wermages in the world. And most of them are bored with the lack of variety in their luxurious but repetitive lifestyles. The novelty of your songs would claim a steep price inside their hearts.”

“So that one of them could claim me away from this sadaq?” She asked bitterly.

“You don’t realize how much protection Anaise had offered you by joining it. Once the sadaq was established among you three it was extremely unlikely that someone would break it apart. With a wermage and a ranking Lady of a Pillar Manor, this sadaq is untouchable. You would need to wage war at least against Kiymetl, and my own — Enoch, just to force it apart. Most likely Entire Emanai and its Divine protection too. No, young Yeva. With my daughter in the sadaq no one would dare to take your Erf from you, or you from him. Not even me. Remember that.”

XXX

It was a pleasure watching Irje squirm and stumble as we briskly returned back to the manor. She tried to unsuccessfully drag me into a number of nooks along the way but I categorically stopped any attempts despite the increasing whines of my cougar.

The amusement was one thing but there was still a chance someone might ambush me again in the city. A very low chance. With the disastrous assassination attempt, Shahin was a non-issue and Samat Manor got slapped on the wrists. Not hurtful enough to cry foul but enough to leave me alone at least for a couple of weeks.

But a chance existed and I didn’t want to dally with my needy ‘bodyguard’.

I also had to meet my first trainer.

Sulla could vet me but he wouldn’t train me personally, he was Domina’s assistant after all. So now I stood face to face with a very elegant werfox.

Sleek and smooth hair was flowing down his shoulders. Bright ribbons skillfully braided in, especially into his tail. I didn’t have to guess but he was definitely using my conditioners too.

“Sulla said you stood a chance.” He murmured, walking around me in the circle, “have you fought before?”

“Not with melee weapons,” I shook my head, “otherwise, there were some brawls.”

“Bows? Hmm, I don’t think you could wield a werbow,” his fingers traced the trapezius muscle on my back, “Most are runed anyway so you will gain even less from it. We will start from the melee then. At least you will come out of it knowing how to hold a shield.”

I shrugged, “You are the trainer, you know best.”

Having a shield felt like a better option than trying to learn an archaic craft of sending a stick of wood across the air by bending another stick of wood.

“Good,” he clapped his hands together, “Turn around.”

I turned to see the weapons on the table, only three that is. And an enormous tower shield that was rather comparable to my height.

A long spear, some sort of a short sword, and a kattar. Sulla had said something about it before.

“So do I choose what I train first?”

“Ai,” My trainer shook his head, “I think I need to be rather stern with Sulla. You are less familiar than he claimed to be. You aren’t training for a fight in the arena but to participate in the army.”

He cracked his knuckles, “You will learn all three of them. Each one serves a purpose on the battlefield and in the Forest. You neglect one and you just might find yourself quite dead later. Do you even know how to use them?”

I blinked, “The pointy part goes into the enemy.”

“Ai-ai.”

 

 

 

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