Thralls of a Dread Lord (1.47T)
Welcome to my weekly serial. This is a rough draft that I am working on, for your reading pleasure.
It is a fairly grim tale, so be warned.
Here is the first post from this series.
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Still battered from their run through the tunnels the band rand through the back alleys of Oystkivat. Greyrock still loomed above them, a horizon-eating monolith, shading them even from the rays of the moon. Retaak was sure than he had several cuts and bruises from the descent, but he counted it lucky that they were all still alive. If the Bloody Axes or whomever sought them now caught them, he doubted that would be the case.
He was also keenly aware of Albyursia on his back, her hot breath in his ear and the garden scent of her. He felt a strange tingle of arousal as she bounced against him, occasionally laughing under her breath. He’d never felt any attraction to elves before, despite their beauty, and felt some embarrasment.
That deeper shadow served them well as Uyage led them swiftly through back alleys and the sheltered paths that connected parts of the town. Retaak could not have navigated these places so easily, but Uyage was keen of eye and judgement.
“Are they still following?” whispered Uyaashie as they stopped in a well-hidden alcove decorated with scenes of elven love-play.
Uyage nodded curtly.
“They must be after us, then,” said Kuzat. “No self respecting spawn would pass up the chance to smash up and loot some of those houses.”
Retaak nodded. “Let us bind our wounds in case they have a blood tracker.”
“I can help with that,” whispered Albyursia, smiling.
“Would we have to unbind you?” asked Kuzat.
“Yes,” said the elf.
“Then no,” said Uyage.
Retaak felt like objecting. It seemed that Albyursia was genuinely grateful to them for helping her escape. If she had healing magic it would be of great help to them. On the other hand he did not wish to risk angering Uyage. She would think the elf had enchanted him, and perhaps she was right…
After some quick bandaging and checking of equipment they were ready to move. Retaak nodded to Uyage, giving her the lead. He trusted her far more than he trusted himself in matters of escape. She listened for a moment, signaled they their pursuers were east of them and then slipped off in a narrow path between two estates, leading south.
Retaak was the last to leave the alcove. Albyursia was ostentatiously examining one of the carvings on the wall, picturing a male and female pair standing, locked in coitus. The woman was leaning out at an angle her hands locked at the back of her lover’s neck with her feet over his shoulders. She grinned at him as he picked her up and hoisted her onto his back.
“I’ve always wanted to try that one,” she said in his ear. “Most men aren’t that daring.”
“Are you flirting with me, elf?” asked Retaak.
“I am, Ogre,” she said gruffly, imitating his cadence. “You do have me tied up, after all.”
Retaak felt arousal burn through him at her words. He felt shame and anger at how easily she got a response from him, as if he were a youngling. He shook his head and started off. After a few steps he smiled and said “You’ll have to tell me how you learned our tongue so well, elf.”
He could feel her grin widen as they slipped out into the night.
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