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The Elemental Portals

Book II – Medioterrae

Chapter VI – One Down …

Nahal was waiting outside Morholt’s castle the next day at dawn when the gates opened and the guard threw the limp form of Sevade out onto the road. She approached, and when she saw that he was breathing she stood over him with her fists on her hips.

“Don’t say anything.” He mumbled through bruised lips.

She smirked. “Now you know how I felt with Rory Douglas.”

“You are not very good at following instructions.”

“Never mind. Did you get the bracelets?”

Sevade pulled two silver hoops inlaid with gold and small chips of semi-precious stones out of his tunic and held them out to her.

“Good.” She said, taking them and tucking them away in her cloak. “Now we can sneak up on them.” She looked again at his hand where it lay on the cobbles. “Why are your claws painted red? On second thought, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.” She did a half turn to reveal their packs behind her. “I brought your stuff. Let’s go.”

“I can’t walk.”

“Amateur. Okay, we’ll go to the Inn and get some breakfast down you first.”

“My jaw hurts too.”

“Scrambled eggs then.”

* * * * * * * *

While the apprentice assassin was trying to get her master mobile again the group they were chasing was still camped at the foot of the bridge they had recently rid of trolls, finishing a hardy breakfast of eggs courtesy of Yup’s blunderbuss.

“Does it always produce laying hens in the morning?” Junafir asked as she eyed the three chickens that were wandering around the campsite.

“No, sometimes it produces cooked oatmeal. It seems to depend on my dietary needs at the time. Whether I’m bunged up or not, if you understand my meaning.”

“Ewwww.”

“That’s what I say when the oatmeal appears, and why I fire it over a clean bowl if I haven’t been regular lately.”

“Can we change the subject?” Darryl asked, also staring at the chickens. “Like what’s for supper?”

“If all you think about is chicken then all we will get is chicken.” Yup warned.

“Will it do roast beef?” Annie asked. She was missing her mother’s cooking already.

“Or pork?” James inquired, licking his lips. He had had his fill of chicken while on Terra and was dying for something that did not have a walking, talking equivalent on this world.

“A piglet may be possible.”

Darryl closed his eyes and began mumbling, “Suckling pig, sucking pig, suckling pig.”

“Oatmeal is fine for me.” Gael said, drawing groans from the non-Terrans.

Junafir turned to James. “What’s it taste like?”

“What? Pork? Like liquid sweetness if it’s done right. It would be a good change from chicken.” He looked to their canine leader, who had not said a word since they got up. “Have you ever had any Paul? Did my dad ever bring any ribs or ham sandwiches through the portal for you to try?”

“I had something that came in a bun from a little cardboard box once.” Paul said absently. “But it didn’t taste like it was made with real meat.”

“Probably wasn’t. Say, where is Ladread?”

“She disappeared again last night.”

Junafir frowned. “Honestly. What has she got against us that she can’t even camp with us?”

“There is more to it than that.” Paul said. “I followed her after she left. The road beyond the bridge is fairly narrow and has a sheer drop off on one side and a vertical cliff on the other. After a couple of hundred paces her tracks stopped at the edge of the gorge. There was no way she could have climbed down and out of sight before I got there, so I’m wondering is she does not use some elf magic to disappear each night. Yup, what do you know of elves and their ways?”

“Hmm. We dwarves don’t deal with them much, except when they need a good steel sword or iron fittings for one of their bows. They are tricky, untrustworthy creatures as far as we’re concerned, but they do have some power over the trees in the forest and the creatures that live there. Elves have no power over rock though, that’s why we prefer living up in the mountains above the tree line. I can’t imagine how she could climb up or down these cliffs, but like I said, other than trading metal goods for food we don’t have much truck with them.”

“Maybe she flew away?” Annie said, wiping egg from her lips.

“You’re thinking of fairies.” Darryl told her.

“They have those here too?”

Just then Gael cleared his throat loudly and tilted his chin toward the far end of the bridge. Paul turned around and saw Ladread in her elf warrior form casually strolling their way.

“Good morning, Ladread. I’ve saved you some breakfast.” He said, siding over a bit on the rock he was sitting on to make room for her.

She remained standing. “No, thank you. I ate before returning.”

Standing up and looking closely at her face, Paul saw a trickle of blood running from the corner of her lip to her chin. She wiped it away with a bronzed forearm without comment.

“Right.” Paul said, slightly flustered at her coolness after their episode the day before. “Let’s get packed and on the road then. We have a magician to locate.”

Out of habit from his days as a soldier, Paul had already filled his pack before eating breakfast. Ladread was also ready to go as she was wearing almost everything she owed. He and Ladread watched while the rest gathered their things.

“Ladread.” Paul said, “I noticed that you are not carrying a weapon. Why is that?”

“Because even if you all decide to turn on me at once I would not need one to defeat your lot.”

“But you will need one to take on the dragon, won’t you?”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll pick one up along the way. We still have leagues to go before we even enter dragon territory.”

Having seen no sign of followers since leaving Lyonesse the group relaxed the pace as they made their way toward the village where Yup had heard of a magician performing recently. Coyotka stayed close to the dwarf and questioned him unceasingly, hoping to add some firsthand knowledge to her stock of dwarf lore.

“So, you are one-hundred and fifty-two years old?” She marvelled.

“And a half.”

“Is that considered old for dwarves?” She saw his face, what little of it that was exposed between his white bread and eyebrows, turn red. “I’m sorry. Does the question offend you?”

“No.” He admitted after a short pause. “I’m no spring chicken, but I’ve only just entered lower middle age, for dwarves. Most of us live between four-hundred and fifty and five-hundred years. But most don’t go grey before they turn three hundred, let alone pure white like me.” He twirled his long moustache to indicate what he was referring to. “I’m just a little sensitive about it.”

“I’m sorry. Does premature greyness run in your family?”

“No. It was my own damn fault. I was trying to make a new alloy, a stronger, lighter kind of steel with the properties of silver but the minerals and chemicals I was using to bond them reacted badly. My hair went from a rather handsome shade of copper to white instantly. The other dwarves tease me about it most cruelty.”

“I shan’t mention it again.”

“Don’t say anything to the others either, please.”

Coyotka drew her fingers across her mouth. “My lips are sealed.”

Just then Chris came up to join them. He was feeling very lighthearted given that most of the group not only accepted him now but also considered him a friend. And he did not feel any jealousy at all seeing the coyote he was involved with beside the white-haired dwarf.

“Hey Grampa! How’s it going?”

Yup gave him a cross look before turning back to Coyotka. “You have my permission to tell the others about the hair thing.”

After listening to Coyotka’s explanation Chris apologized then made a suggestion.

“Have you ever considered dying it? Assassins do it all the time to disguise their appearance.”

Yup squinted at Chris’s bunt-off ear and the deep scar on his snout. “And that works does it?”

“Sure, as long as we cover up any other identifying marks.”

Yup puffed up his considerably broad chest and aided himself up to his full eight, about level with Chris’s navel.

“Dwarves do not cover up their faults with cheap cosmetic tricks or improve their looks with artificial enhancements like elves and humans do. We are practical, down to earth folk.”

“I sorry, Yup. Forget I mentioned anything.”

Yup stood there fuming until Coyotka moved away in embarrassment then he leaned in close to Chris.

“You, ah, wouldn’t happen to have any of that stuff on you, would you?”

“No. I didn’t think I would need it on my last mission, but the ingredients are fairly simple. I could make some for you.”

Yup squinted. “In red?”

“Sure, if I can find root madder or bloodroot. I’ll keep an eye out for some.”

Yup patted Chris’s knee. “You do that lad, you do that.”

The village they were seeking was not on the main route north. They had to veer off to the west where a trail intersected the high road and they soon descended into a pine forest where lichen dripped from the branches of the trees. They camped in the first clearing with a stream that they came to. Darryl and Yup found themselves on set-up duty as the rest paired off and went four different directions to forage for firewood, food and fish.

“Who should we follow today?” Darryl asked the dwarf.

“No one.” Yup answered curtly. “I don’t want to get caught and bring the wrath of any of them down on me. I think that the two of us are barely hanging on by a thread here as it is. Besides ...”

“Besides?”

“Chris promised to do something for me.”

“Oh? What?”

Yup refused to answer though, and Darryl would not spy on anyone alone as then there would be no one else to spread the blame around on, plus, he was starting to feel some affection for the mixed group of humans and terrans also. They busied themselves by building a fire pit with rocks from nearby hill.

“Never use river rocks.” Yup cautioned Darryl who ad never needed to build a fire pit before this. “They can be porous and when the water inside them reaches boiling point they might explode.”

The fire pit was ready and the sleeping area was cleared by the time the first couple got back. It was James and Junafir. The human was carrying a double load of firewood in his strong arms while the Terran picked twigs out of her fur. The two Medioterraens stared at them as they approached.

“Finding firewood can be dirty work.” She said as she walked by.

“How does one find firewood while laying down?” Darryl whispered to Yup when he saw her dusty back.

“Shush. Here come the rest.”

Gael and Annie looked exhausted and only had a merge supply of wild vegetables and berries to show for their efforts. Chris was walking with a limp as he followed along behind Coyotka, who carried a basket full of mushrooms.

“Found them growing almost beneath our feet.” She said proudly, showing them off.

“Why are there flecks of blood on the basket?” Darryl asked.

“Chris, Uhm, had a nosebleed. Because of the change in altitude ... probably.”

“Doesn’t that usually happen when you’re going uphill?” Yup inquired with a one brow cocked sceptically.

“Well, Terran grey foxes are different.” The academic coyote said, rearing back with an exaggerated offended expression. “They like to climb trees ... and because of that they are more used to ... heights, than other Terran species. So they tend to bleed from the snout when the air pressure increases ... like ... like when they come down from the trees.”

“Or when they’re handing upside down from one while being disciplined.” Chris’s mumbled too low for the others to hear. He was beginning to wonder if the stories about how love hurt were not more literal than he had first believed.

Paul and the warrior elf Ladread brought up the rear, with a brace of trout that may have taken the collie two minutes or twenty to catch. His fur was disheveled, and her skin shone with dirt and sweat but one glance from her was enough to seal Darryl and Yup’s lips from any sarcastic observations they might have made.

After the elf and dog were well past Darryl asked the dwarf, “Do you think they did it with her in that form or in her slim, blond body?”

“What does it matter?”

“In her other form I can still imagine that she is a maiden.” He replied, with a note of excitement in his voice.

“Darryl, son.” Yup said as he put an arm around the dragon’s waist and led him over to where James was lighting the fire. “Either way, she’s no virgin.”

“She could pretend to be.”

“You have no chance lad. That elf hates dragons more than she does dwarves.”

It took two more days to reach the village that Yup had told them about.

It was a quaint looking place, full of steep-roofed houses to shed the heavy snows of winter arranged along cobbled streets. The three largest buildings were arranged around a central square. They were the Town Hall, the church and a two-story tavern.

Yup elbowed Darryl in the thigh. “You know what they do on the second floor, don’t you lad?”

“Rent out rooms to weary travellers?”

“Only by the hour.”

“oh .... Ohhhh!” His eyes went wide, but then Darryl frowned. “What has that to do with us?”

“We’re the only two single, er, men ... in this party. This may be our only chance for a little relief before engaging in a fight to the death with a full-grown dragon.”

“Yup, you know that kind of woman does not interest me.”

“Maybe we’ll find one that’s good at roll playing. Really good.” He said sniffing the air and wrinkling his nose. “Besides, if this magician is any good all the farmers and their daughters for miles around will be here to see him. There is bound to be a maiden among them.”

The thought cheered up Darryl considerably. He smiled the whole time it took for Paul to negotiate a fair price for five rooms at a nearby hostel. Ladread looming behind him and casting evil looks at the clerk helped bring the cost down.

“Just think of it this way,” she advised the flustered clerk, “you are making a bulk sale and keeping all your fingers. What a deal!”

“I guess we’re sleeping together, Yup.” Darryl sighed as he watched the four couples take the first four keys.

“Don’t worry. I made sure that they had two beds, although, I don’t take up all that much room in one.”

“It’s not that. It’s just ... I was hoping to have a room to myself in case ... you know?”

“In case a willing maiden shows up?” Yup asked with a knowing grin. “Does that, ah, happen often?”

“I couldn’t count the number of times that I’ve had one on the verge of succumbing before a father or brother showed up to spoil everything.”

“Oh, you couldn’t? Well, tell you what, whoever gets back here first with maiden or whore can have the room for the night and the other will have to make do in the barn. Just put a sock on the door handle if you’re first back. Deal?”

“Deal! But ...”

“But what?”

“What’s a sock?”

“Gloves for your feet.” Yup looked down at the scaly, clawed triple toed feet of the dragon. “I guess you don’t wear them. I don’t either most days, but I have a couple of pairs for really cold nights. Here.” Yup said as he pulled a couple of large woolly tubes out of his pack. You’ve seen me drying these by the fire.”

“I thought they were sacks for carrying gold.”

Yup frowned and settled his hand on the butt of his blunderbuss. “Are you saying I’ve got big feet?”

Darryl swallowed, afraid of offending his one friend in the company, but in truth, the diminutive dwarf had the biggest feet in the group, by far.

“No, no. I just thought that with all that, uh, thick fur ... hair! ... all that thick hair on them that you wouldn’t need sacks ... socks! ... socks on them.”

“It’s only on really cold nights, and I usually take them off before getting out from my bedroll, so they don’t get soiled. Anyway, I’ll leave this pair here on the table and if you get back first just poke one through the door handle so it won’t fall off.

Darryl picked one up. His nose wrinkled and his whiskers whipped about as he held it at arm’s length.

“Gee, you’re not afraid that someone will steal it?”

“Now, who would steal a single dwarf sock?” Yup said as he turned and began to brush yesterday’s food out his beard before supper.

“Of course. Silly me.”

At James’s suggestion they went to the tavern to eat. The hostel did have a dining room but the stew they were offering resembled food less than it did mud, and it smelled worse. The lack of other customers was another clue.

The tavern proved to be the better choice. There were several large tables to the left as they entered, arranged around an open space where entertainers might perform. They were not able to get their whole group around just one though.

“That’s alright.” Yup assured them. “Darryl and I will eat at the bar. I’ll leave my blunderbuss here with you for the wizard to examine if you think he’s good enough to fix it.”

“You won’t be too lonely?” Junafir asked.

“Not for long.” Yup muttered, fingering one of the gold rings in his beard. “Not for long.” Then he grabbed Darryl by one of his hip scales and led him away.

The benches in the tavern filled up, mostly with drinkers, as the evening drew on and the time for entertainment grew near. Before the first act a huge humanoid whose broad head touched the ceiling shuffled in and took a stool by the stage area.

Annie stared at the creature that was easily twice the size of Gael with arms that reached the floor when it was sitting. “Is that a ...?”

“Ogre?” Ladread replied. “Yes. A small one.”

“I thought they didn’t get along with the other species here?”

“Not normally, but he’s probably been hired to maintain order during the show.”

“Like a bouncer?”

“Exactly.”

“What’s a bouncer?” Junafir asked, a little flushed after her first strong drink in several weeks.

“Someone who bounces you like a ball out of the room if you misbehave.” Ladread told her.

“The term actually originated here on Medioterrae,” Coyotka added, “because of the ogres’ preferred method of ejecting tipsy patrons. It also inspired a popular game where one team tries to bounce an object across a court and toss it into an elevated basket more times than their opponents over a set period of time.”

“Now I know that you’re full of it.” James countered. “Basketball was invented by James Naismith, a Canadian from Almonte, Ontario. And he was never in a war or near a volcano or any other source of a portal.”

Coyotka looked at him sideways and cocked one eyebrow. “No portals at all around this Almonte place?”

“Well ... just the Douglas portal a bit north of there, but ....”

“And he never met anyone from the Douglas clan? Never played with anyone who might have ‘wandered’ around a bit?”

“Well, I can’t guarantee that ...”

“Probably just a coincidence, then. Besides, they don’t call it basketball here.”

“What do they call it?” Annie said, detecting a lure in the coyote’s pause.

“Chuck the human in the barrel. It’s very popular among ogres and trolls.”

“But the villagers are not big fans.” Ladread added with a chuckle. “Oh look. Here comes the first act.”

Several of the women that had been leaning against the bar and casually soliciting lone farmers took to the floor and performed an active, lewd dance routine. Hands reached out to them as they stripped off their clothes, but most stopped just shy of touching as the ogre kept one eye on the crowd. Whenever anyone got too excited, he only had to curl his lip to return things to order.

“I thought that this was a magic act.” Junafir pouted as she drained her second glass. “Let’s go back to the room James. I don’t want you tempted by these floozies.”

“Don’t worry. I’d have to be a lot drunker than I intend to get to be interested in any of them.” James assured her. “I’m the one that should be worried. Have you seen the looks the locals are giving you?”

It was true. Before the bar girls had come on most male eyes were on Junafir, and quite a few of the females were focused on Gael. Even now many of the men were stealing sidelong glances at the buxom tigress.

“I guess they don’t see to many Terrans off the beaten path.” Junafir admitted, a little pleased by the attention.

“Do you think it will be a problem?” Paul asked Ladread.

“No. One or two may make an inappropriate suggestion, but the ogre won’t let things go too far. Best if we handle it ourselves though; we don’t want to attract too much attention.”

Annie looked around at the locals starring at her half-bald head and bulging muscles. At the looks of lust directed to Junafir and Gael and the quizzical glances at the elf warrior and her canine companion. Even James’s bright red hair was attracting some attention; and then there was the dragon at the bar with the dwarf standing on a barstool beside him.

“We’ll just blend in then, shall we?”

“Yep.” The elf said, draining her tankard and calling for a refill.

At the bar Yup had his eye on one particularly buxom tavern wench, and she had hers on the gold ornaments woven into his beard and cloak; enough so that she had made sure that his cup was never empty. A couple of the local whores had approached Darryl but turned away when they saw that the naked dragon had no pouch of treasure on him. They supposed that he was too young to have accumulated any and he felt ashamed for having his small horde taken from him by Morholt. He hung his head and toyed with his drink.

“Are you alright?”

The voice, a distinctly feminine one that lacked the hard edge of the tavern workers had come from behind the bar.

Darryl looked up and was surprised to see a young woman with long, light brown hair and hazel eyes that looked much too innocent for one working in such an establishment. Her skin was pale and smooth, without the garish makeup the working women there favoured. She was beautiful, and sweet and his whiskers twitched in a way that told him she may be innocent also, in more ways than one. He gulped to get himself breathing again.

“What ... sorry ... alright?”

“Yes, are you alright?” She looked very concerned. “I just ask because you looked like you were about to cry.”

Darryl shook his head to clear it. “Cry? No ... of course not. I was ... I was just checking my drink for ... for flies.” he cringed, realizing that if she was standing behind the bar she might have been the one responsible for making his drink. He decided to make a joke of it. “You see, they usually don’t add enough this far south.”

She smiled, just a bit, but it was enough to make his heart leap. “I didn’t know that dragons liked flies in their drinks. We don’t ever get dragons here, so I didn’t add any flies at all.”

“Ah, well then, that’s why you never get dragons down this way. You’ll never get a star in the ‘Mictlan Guide to Fine Dining’ if you only cater to one species’ tastes.” He said, then smiled and winked one deep blue eye at her.

She laughed and he was emboldened.

“Have you worked here long?”

“All my life.” She sighed. “My mother and step-father own the tavern. But I will be leaving soon I think.”

“Oh why?”

“Step-Father has some old-fashioned ideas about raising a young lady in a tavern. He says that now that I am grown such a place will be too much of a temptation to me and wants to send me off to a nunnery to receive an education. He says that when I’m thirty I can come back and take a job teaching the village children their letters.”

“She leaned in close to Darryl and her warm sweet breath tickled his whiskers. “Do you know what I think? I think that he is just afraid that I will lose my virginity to one of the men that frequent the tavern.”

“I knew it! I knew it! I mean ... I know what fathers can be like.” Then he frowned. “Actually, I can’t. Dragon fathers take no part in raising their offspring, and the dragon mothers are not much better. Once you enter adolescence it’s ‘take a small sack of gold from my hard and off with ye’. It gets a little ... a little lonely ... actually.”

She placed a delicate hand on his scaly one. “Oh, you poor thing. You are upset. My mother is very affectionate, and Step-Father is quite kind, but they don’t let me have any friends my age, especially boys, so I get lonely too.” She sighed again. “At least you have your dwarf friend for companionship.”

Darryl looked at Yup, who was trying to explain to woman showing a lot of skin that his name really was Yup Thatchwatyahurd and that no, it was not some kind of joke.

“He’s more of an acquaintance, really.” Darryl said, turning back to the maiden. “No substitute for a real friend ... or girlfriend ... especially one as kind and beautiful as you.”

She giggled at his compliment and he was able to find out her name by introducing himself. Her name was Brandy, “Because Brandy is the fanciest drink we serve here.”

Most of the patrons watching the dancing were drinking beer or hard liquor that the wait-staff could draw for themselves but occasionally someone ordered something more complicated or expensive and Brandy had to leave to fill the order. She came back each time though, once bringing him a goblet of red wine with a dozen flies floating on the surface.

“I hope that’s enough.” She said with trepidation. “It’s all I could catch in the kitchen.”

“Oh, it’s plenty.” Darryl said bravely as he took a big sip, using his upper lip to keep the flies from entering his mouth. “I, uh, like to pick them out and eat them separately.” He said when he saw her watching.

She had to hustle back to work. Darryl was aware that Yup was making a move on the bar girl with the bottomless cleavage when he heard the dwarf offer to show her something amazing in his trousers.

“Frankly, honey, what I’d like to see is what the horse you came in with is packing.”

“Ah now,” Yup said in a slightly slurred voice, standing as tall as he could on his stool. “You know the horse and I have two things in common?”

She looked sceptical. “What’s that then?”

“We both know how to work metal and,” he shouted as he dropped his trousers and raised his beard and tunic, “both our cooks hang down to our knees!”

The whore laughed, because what he had said was true, given that his thighs were only six inches long from hip to knee. “Oi! Is that a gold ring through it? Do I get a prize for pulling on it?”

The bouncer, however, was not so amused.

“Hey you!” The ogre shouted, making the building shake. “We don’t put up with that kind of thing here. You cover up and either take it upstairs or outside before taking it out again or I’ll pull it out by the roots and stuff it up your ...”

“You better go.” Brandy told Yup as she hurried over. “He can get carried away when he’s angry.”

Yup dropped his tunic and beard, pulled up his trousers and hopped off the stool before leading the scantily clad woman toward the door.

“Let’s discuss how you can win a gold ring just like that one outside.” He turned back to Darryl before leaving. “Better hurry up lad, or you’ll be stuck in the hayloft, alone or not.” He added with a wink at the bar, where Brandy was finishing off a large order.

The ogre watched Yup until the door closed behind him, then he cast a suspicious eye at the dragon the dwarf had been sitting with.

Brandy came back out of breath. “That should hold them for a time. I’m almost done for the night anyway. Mother does not let me stay here while the main entertainment is on. She says that some of the acts are too racy for a young girl such as I.”

“Oh? Where do you go when you’re no working the bar?”

“Back to my lonely room.”

“Really? I have a lonely room too.” He swished the flies around in the goblet for a bit them looked up at her through fluttering eyelashes. “It wouldn’t be so lonely though if I had someone to talk with.”

Before she could answer a hand the size of a flank steak landed on Darryl’s shoulder. Then he was violently pulled around until he was face-to-face with the ogre.

“And what are up to my lad?” The bouncer inquired with a blast of breath that could strip paint.

“Hey!” Darryl said in a harsh whisper. “I’m just trying to chat up the young lady here, ya’ know? Trying to get lucky, and you’re kind of cramping my style, if you don’t mind.”

Darryl was not familiar with ogre body language, but he was pretty sure that when they showed all their teeth and their brows furrowed deep enough to plant potatoes in them that it was a bad sign. Confirmation of that came quickly, but from an unexpected quarter.

“Daddy! Please don’t snap him in two like the last one!”

Darryl’s head swivelled on his neck to face her. “Daddy?” He squealed.

“Yes. Mother married him after my real father died of liver failure and the clap, from sampling the goods too often, Mother claims. She said that she needed a man capable of protecting her and her baby girl.”

“A man? He’s a ...”

“He’s a good father, but a bit protective.”

The ogre put his other hand on Darryl’s head and forced it back around.

“I’m gonna make a barbecue apron out of you, lizard.” The ogre said as he wrapped one great meat hook around the dragon’s neck and began to squeeze.

Darryl looked out the corners of his eyes toward the table where the rest of his group were sitting but they had not noticed his predicament. Their concentration was focused on someone who had just taken the stage and he could not get enough air past the ogre’s fist to draw their attention. He would have to save himself.

“Oh look!” He squeaked. “Someone just grabbed the cash box and ran out the back door.”

The ogre roared and shambled around the bar. Darryl took the opportunity to bolt for the front door. He was through it in a flash but stopped on the tavern’s front deck, wondering where he could go that would be safe.

He heard a noise off to his right and saw Yup standing on an empty whiskey barrel that had been left outside the door. The whore he had left with had opened her blouse and the dwarf had his head buried between her big round breasts. She had one hand in his trousers, and he had one up under her skits.

“Yup! Help me!”

Yup came up for air. “Wha- ... what is it lad? Need a loan to entice your barmaid into bed? Just give me a second to ... Deidra, would you mind not doing that for a second while I help my friend out? It’s not going to come off anyway, it’s a solid ring. No, I’ll tell you about how it got there later, just ...”

“No, Yup, that’s not my problem. There’s this ogre ...”

A roar came from behind the tavern. “I’ll skin that worm alive when I catch him!”

“Daddy, please, just let it go.”

“Get out of my way, Brandy. That Lothario has seduced his last maiden.”

Darryl was frozen in shock, partially from fear of being torn apart bit by bit and partially because the ogre knew what a Lothario was, but the thunderous pounding of approaching ogre feet broke the spell.

“Gotta go.” He shouted to Yup as he began to run though the village back the way they had come. “I’ll meet up with you guys later.”

“Where?” Yup yelled, unconsciously slapping the woman’s hand away from the bauble she was trying to work out of his beard.

“Where the main road enters Muspelia, East of the Valley of the Spiders.” Darryl called as he disappeared with the ogre not far behind him.

Yup grunted. “Valley of the Spiders? I wonder why they call it that? Well lass,” he said with a grin to the whore he had recently been fondling, “looks like I have a room to myself for the night. What do you think of that?”

“Heigh-ho heigh-ho.”

Yup chuckled at what otherwise have been a deadly insult to a dwarf. “Indeed”

As they walked toward the hostel Yup could hear the sounds of a lute being played coming from inside the tavern. It was a heavenly sound and he almost turned back, but the sight of a well-rounded thigh peaking out from the folds of the Deidra’s skirt caught his eye, and he caressed it as they headed to his room.

“Nice music.” He commented as they walked. “When does the magician come on?”

“Magician? You mean musician, dearie. That’s what he does.”

“Really? I guess my friends will be disappointed.”

“But you won’t.” She said, reaching down to pinch his cheek.

“No, especially if ... say, have you ever done it mountain sheep style?”

“No. Is it good?”

“Well, it’s not bahhhh-d.”

She laughed, genuinely perhaps, as they entered the hostel and made their way up to his room.

Once the door closed behind them there was a brief moment of serious negotiation wherein a small gold bauble changed hands with the promise of a larger one come morning. After that both their hands were all over the other as clothing fell to the floor like rain.

When the last bit of cloth hit the floor Yup stood there in all his naked glory.

“Well, what do you think lass?”

“I think you look like a vanilla ice cream with feet.”

Yup glanced in the room’s mirror. “Oh yeah, just a sec.” He threw his beard back over his shoulder, where it stayed, thanks to the weight of all the gold woven into it. “Better?”

“Not bad, but I think the horse would be more impressive.”

“He’s broke, but as you see,” he waggled his cock with its gold ring though the head at her, “I’ve got gold to spare.”

“There is that dearie. Now what’s this mountain sheep thingy you want to try?”

“Oh, it’s simple enough.” He said as he admired her big round tits with their rouged nipples. “You get down on your hands and knees and I just sort of ‘ram’ it in, but first ... we call the sheep to us.”

She swayed toward him until she was close enough to kneel down and take his rising cock in her hand. “And how do they call the sheep?”

“They blow the ram’s horn, of course.”

“Of course.”

Her head was still much too high to reach his cock, but he hopped up on the bed and sat on the edge to even things up. She stroked his cock with one hand while caressing his balls with the other as she worked up enough saliva to take his rapidly inflating rick into her mouth.

“Ah, yesss. That’s how we plumb the shaft.” He moaned as she took his full length in.

She was actually a little bit impressed. He was her first dwarf and she had assumed that they were built proportionately, but even flaccid he had been a match for any man in this village. Now that his erection had reached it’s peak it filled her mouth snugly and extended back into her throat. Of course, as a professional, she did not gag even as the gold ring tickled her tonsils.

Yup let her service his tool until it was good and hard before he pushed her head off of him.

“Time to milk the sheep.” He raised her up until her breasts were even with his face and took turns licking and sucking the large nipples. While he was so engaged, she stoked his cock and rubbed it against her belly to keep it hard.

After a few minutes of nuzzling her teats Yup hopped down off the bed and urged her forward until she was laying face down on it with her ankles on the edge of the mattress and her ass raised up in the air. Yup began to lick the cleft between her buttocks, concentrating on the split mound between her thighs.

“And what do you call this?” She asked over her shoulder.

“Preparing the sheep for breeding.” He said between licks.

“And you do this to all the sheep?”

“Only the ones we really like.”

She let him have his way, joying the respite from the same old pounding, especially since the dwarf seemed to know more about female anatomy than her average customer. She was actually starting to feel some arousal when he stopped and stood up close behind her. She reached back between her legs to help him guide his rock-hard cock to her well-lubricated slit.

“Oh, shist yeah.” Yup groaned as his cock slid into her warm, welcoming cunt. He pulled back when it started to bind then pushed it in a little farther than the first time. By the fourth stoke her ass was jiggling against his little pot belly and his balls were slapping against her clit.

“Oh, yeah.” He moaned. “How do ‘ewe’ like that?”

“Not bahhh-d at all. Keep it up stud.”

Yup did so, steadily increasing the pace as his cock slid in and out of her generous twat. With his beard thrown back over his shoulder still he could see how his cock folded her pink love lips into her on the thrust and then pulled them back put again on the withdrawal. Like most dwarf appendages his cock was thicker than a human’s and like most dwarves he had more stamina than the average man, so the whore was really earning her gold by the time he felt that tingling in his balls that meant he was close to cumming.

His pace doubled. She was rocking back and forth on her knees in time with him, enjoying this rare experience that had her close to climaxing herself. But Yup could only last so long after months of nothing but his own hand for company, and he came with a grunt and a grimace in a great burst of spooge inside her as he ground his hips against the bulge of her ass.

He collapsed on her back, hugging her ample butt as he fought to capture his breath. She made soft satisfied moans as if he had been the world’s greatest lover, regretting that he had lasted just a couple of minutes longer.

After a few minutes Yup rolled off her and pulled her down onto the bed, where he snuggled her breasts and idly caressed her sodden mound.

“What does the ram do now?” She inquired, knowing that he had contracted her for the night but aware that most customers would be snoring soon after such activity.

“This is the time when mountain rams would be resting and contemplating their good fortune at having such a hareem of talented ewes.” Yup said without a trace of fatigue in his voice. “But Dwarves are made of sturdier stuff, and we can endure strenuous activities without respite.”

“So, you’re ready to go at it again?”

“I could.” He said as he slid down between her legs and licked the swollen mound of her sex tentatively. “But I sensed that you were almost as engaged as I was, and I thought I might try to even up the score a bit before continuing with my pleasure. After all,” he said flicking his tongue across her clit, “we’re not animals.”

“Oh, you better be.” She said as she took his thick ears in her hands and pulled his face tight against her twat. “You better be.”

* * * * * * * *

The going was slow for the two assassins.

Sevade was so sore the first day that they barely made it out of the city. By the second day his legs were stronger, but he still felt weak overall. On the third day Nahal had to hire a horse and cart to take them to the northern edge of Lyonesse, where they were forced to book a cottage because Sevade could not lie down comfortably in his bed roll anymore.

“You’re sick.” The young Afghani with the scarred face told the red fox as she prepared a hot meal for them in the cottage’s hearth.

“I’ll be fine.”

“No, you won’t. Morholt did some internal damage to you. I saw your scat when we stopped to relieve ourselves at mid-day. It was black and stank of blood. I’ll bet that your pee is as red as wine too. You’re bleeding inside where it can’t be sewn up or treated with your balms.”

“It will heal itself … most likely. I just need to rest for a few days.”

Nahal stood up and began dividing the stew into two portions then she turned and placed the bowls on the table. Sevade ate weakly but steadily, knowing that he had to eat it all to keep his strength up. She ate slowly too, staring into his eyes while she slowly ladled the stew into her mouth.

When they were both done she said, “The skin around your eyes is pale from lack of blood and your lips have a tinge of blue. I don’t think that you are going to make it.”

“I’ve been hurt worse, and foxes are quick healers. Give me three days. Then I’ll be able to travel again.”

“It will be too late then. We’ve already lost ground on them and by the time three more days have passed we will have lost track of them altogether. We will have failed our mission. By the assassin’s code you taught me I should leave you to die and carry on by myself.”

“No need to rush.” He assured her. “Once they fulfil their quest, they will head back this way to bring the spear to Lyonesse. We’ll find a good spot to ambush them and sneak past their defences with the bracelets Morholt gave us.”

“Morholt said that it is unlikely that our targets will survive the battle with the dragon. He has sent his best knights and heroes after that spear, all to no avail. What we’re likely to see coming back is that elf warrior woman the guards talked about, with or without Mordred’s prize. Meanwhile the dragon will have changed James Douglas and his companions into charcoal, and we will have no proof to show Rory Douglas that his nephew is dead.”

“What does it matter? The elf will tell Morholt and he will pass the news on to Rory Douglas. We can lend him the portable portal to do so. We may not get a reward but at least Douglas will be off our backs. Then we can go back to Terra and start a new Assassin’s guild somewhere far from him.”

“You still think that after everything you put me through that I would want to remain your apprentice?”

Sevade shrugged. “What choice do you have? Assassins outside of a guild are forbidden and no client would hire one, and there is a standing reward for eliminating rogue assassins. Without me you would spend your life running and hiding.”

“Without me calling you ‘Master’ you would not be able to start a new guild and would be in the same boat.”

“See? We need each other.”

“No, we don’t. My objective was not to become an assassin so I could spend my life killing others, but so that I could take my revenge on those that have mistreated me, and Rory Douglas is number one on my list.”

Sevade laughed and then winced, holding his side. “You think that you know enough to go after someone like Rory Douglas after only a few months of training?”

“Not in a conventional assassination, but if I come bearing the head of James Douglas I can get close enough to him to kill him.”

“Ha! Ross would stop you before you could draw a weapon, but then he would not let you near his employer with one in the first place.”

“I won’t need a weapon. I intend to pack the head with explosives. I learned a thing or two from my ‘uncles’ in Afghanistan and it could easily be done.”

Sevade was starting to sweat, from the pain and the tension that arguing with the human was bringing, he thought, although the room did feel much warmer than before supper.

“Think girl! Douglas will meet you in his castle on the Terran side. Your earth chemistry will not work there.”

“It will if it’s close to a portal, like the portable one you communicate with Douglas on. I’ll put it inside the head with the explosives and the detonator to make sure everything goes off. As soon as he takes the head from my hands.”

“But … but then you’ll be killed too!”

“So be it.”

The scarred fox shook his head vehemently. “No, I can’t allow it. And don’t try to take the portal by force either.” He said, showing the blade he had drawn under his cloak and tilting his head toward the peg where her cloak and weapons were hung. “I may be hurt but you’re still no match for me.” He was seating more profusely now, and the tension was making his hand twitch. He fought to control the tremors as he waited for her to make her move.

Instead of giving in or throwing her empty bowl and rushing for a weapon, as he had anticipated, Nahal sat back in her chair with her arms crossed and a neutral expression on her face. “I knew that you would object. That’s why I gave you the poison already.”

“Wha- … what poison? You’re bluffing. You have not been out of my sight for days.”

“The poison I made for you that first night in Lyonesse, the one you could not detect.”

Sevade remembered sniffing the two vials she had prepared and detecting what could have been cyanide in one, the one he had poured out onto the floor. But it could just have easily been a harmless almond extract, he realized, and he had not seen her actually dispose of the other vial.

She reached out and placed the empty vial on the table between them. “You still couldn’t detect it in your stew. So I’d say I passed that test.”

Sevade lunged at her, determined to extract the formula she had used so that he could counter the poison, but he only succeeded in falling across the heavy table, where he lay twitching and struggling to breathe.

Nahal reached over and plucked the knife from his hand. “I’ll need that to carve up Douglas, when I catch him.” She said. Then she got up and came around the table to search Sevade from behind while the poison continued to constrict his muscles, including his lungs and heart. By the time she had removed the rest of his knives, the magic bracelets and the small portal his eyes were bulging and his head felt like it was going to explode.

She returned to her seat and watched calmly while the fox died from a lack of oxygen and circulation. She showed no signs of joy or triumph when his eyes rolled back to expose the red stained orbs where the veins had ruptured. She did not move at all until his bowels loosened, filling the one-room cottage with the sickly odor of blood-laden crap. Then she got up and opened the door and windows before returning to stare down at the rapidly cooling corpse.

“One down.” She said to herself. “Two to go.”

Paul Collieman © Collifan

Gael Tholkes © MarcusXLight

Junafir Pawstone © Frostlupus

Chris Cinereo © Kyroo Echos

Yup Thatchwatyahurd © Kyroo Echos

Sevade © Frostlupus

Constance “Coyotka” Jotkowska © Coyotek

Darryl D. Dragon © Major Matt Mason

Ladread © White Tiger Hunting