Branded (Master of All Book 1)

by Simon Archer

  “I guess I can’t,” he admitted. “I cannot argue with any of what you say.” The mighty orc let out a bit of a self-deprecating laugh-snort as he ran a hand across his face. “All I can say is that I hope that you are right. That I can make up for my foolish descent into shame, for my people’s sake.”

  “He can,” Libritas chimed in my ear as her steel pulsed. “See, William? The chain.”

  As she said that, I noticed what she was referring to. The frayed strands of gold that bound Ogrith and Aroch together began to repair themselves ever so slightly, just as the chains that tied them both to the surrounding land did the same.

  “Chieftain Steeltusk,” I said firmly as I smiled, “take it from both Libritas and me when I say that you not only can, you’re already doing so.” I stepped up to the big orc and offered him my hand. “But more than that, if you’re willing to listen, you might be able to save a great deal more beyond the Wyrmtooth tribe.”

  Aroch’s eyes widened at my words, but he didn’t question me. Instead, he simply grasped my hand firmly and gave it a shake that would have probably ripped a lesser man’s arm clean off. I am proud to say I didn’t wince or cry out, but I won’t lie and say it didn’t hurt.

  “For what you have done today, savior,” he intoned in that deep, snuffling voice of his, “my ears, my strength, and my help are yours.”

  18

  “My people!” Chieftain Aroch Steeltusk roared from atop a platform made of wyrm bones, Ogrith standing proud on his crutch beside him. “Tonight, we raise our fists in honor to the heroes who have brought both great bounty and a new future for us and our ancestors!” With that, he pointed his great staff-slight across the center of the Wyrmtooth village to where Petra and I stood among the jubilant orcs of the tribe. “Spirits above and family here, sing for the glory of William Tyler and Petra of Treison!”

  The entire tribe of orcs, all dressed in nomadic finery, thrust their fists into the air as they let loose a roar that shook the valley their camp was nestled in. And when I say the entire tribe, I mean the entire tribe, from an elderly orc grandmother who could barely stand from her place by the fire to a pair of pig-boys barely old enough to stand. As their collective roar turned into a low humming song that resonated in my bones, I felt sincerely honored by the entire gesture.

  Sure, I didn’t do any of this looking for glory, but I couldn’t lie. It felt good to get some recognition, nonetheless. Petra must have thought so too because she was smiling as she leaned her head against my shoulder, one arm and vines snug around my waist. Silver wasn’t quite as enthused though, the wide-eyed little wyrm content to hide in Petra’s leafy tresses, occasionally peeking out to stare cutely at all the commotion.

  The village itself was fascinating in and of itself. To start with, calling it a village was a misnomer. This was a massive nomad’s camp more than anything else. In fact, it reminded me strongly of a mix of Mongol and Native American camps I had seen in my studies on Earth. Almost everything here was made from the byproducts of hunting, and rock wyrm hunting most of all. Carved bone replaced wood, thick scaled leather replaced cloth, and adornments of claws and teeth were everywhere.

  The real amazing thing was the wyrm pens, even if there were few full-grown wyrms left thanks to Uruk. The talents of the Wyrmtooth tamers were on display because the only real structures raised to keep the mighty drakes in their pen were totem-like pillars of wyrm bone erected at even spaces around, each topped with a fully fanged skull.

  My attention was drawn back to the great fire that roared at the center of camp. There, a troop of the tribesmen broke away from the singing to start preparing a massive slab of rock wyrm ribs, some of that ‘great bounty’ Aroch had spoken of. Weaving through the mass of orcs, a young pig-boy no older than Una ran up to us with a clay hug. There was a big grin on his snout as he held it up to us.

  “A gift!” he shouted up at us enthusiastically. “It’s ozo! Potent medicine water!”

  I took the jug gratefully and patted the kid on the head. He let out a delighted squeal and disappeared into the crowd. Curious, I worked the cork off the hug and took a big sniff. Whatever ozo was, it smelled like concentrated rocket fuel, and I wondered if it was made from wyrm droppings too.

  “Okay, Petra, maybe you know, but what did the kid mean by medicine water?” I tilted the jug toward Petra, who took a sniff herself. Her nose wrinkled as she broke out into coughs. Once she got control of herself, the dryad smiled wryly as I stopped the jug.

  “Perhaps they use it to numb the pain of an injury,” she mused, “because if you were to drink that, I doubt you’d stay awake for very long at all.”

  “Is that a challenge, daughter of the seed?” Aroch bellowed as he strode through the crowd of celebrating orcs. The wyrm’s tooth in his jaw gleamed in the fire as he grinned. “Ozo is the drink of warriors and heroes. It puts hair on your chest and strength in your arm!”

  Petra and I parted a step as she curtsied to the chieftain, while I offered a hand. Aroch took it and gave me another firm shake as he nodded to the dryad.

  “I don’t mean it as a challenge, chieftain,” she said with a smile. “Still, it is a powerful drink.”

  I rubbed my chin. “I might be game to give it a go, but not on an empty stomach.” I laughed as my gut rumbled at the very thought of food, and the intoxicating smell of roast wyrm meat, an aroma like the finest chicken, didn’t help. “Even I’m not that brave.”

  “For that, heroes, we will not have long to wait.” He gestured to where the tribesmen were hard at work. “But as we do, I wish to tell you that my pledge to you is not one that comes from me alone.” The massive orc swung his staff in an arc around him. “To redeem ourselves in our ancestors’ eyes, every able-bodied hunter and warrior of my people will gather here and journey forth to Kaulda. With the spirits watching over us, we will come to your people’s aid within three days.”

  “Thank you, Aroch,” I said earnestly. “With the aid of your warriors, we might just have a fighting chance.”

  Petra nodded and glanced toward the wyrm pens. “Indeed, mighty chieftain, but… is it possible that we could ask another boon?” Her sparkling green eyes returned to Aroch. “If you can spare it, can you provide us with a supply of wyrm-fire to use? We do not know when the Weaver’s forces will strike, and--”

  “Enough, friend.” Aroch raised a meaty hand for silence. “Whatever we can do, we will, and that includes providing you with the weapons you need. Though it will not nearly be what we could once provide, it will be enough to consume any foe.”

  “You’re an honorable man, Aroch,” I replied, and as I spoke, a renewed cheer broke out around the fire as one of the men preparing the roast wyrm waved his hands in the air. “And we can talk more about it as we eat and drink because I think that’s the dinner bell ringing.”

  Petra smiled and slipped an arm around my waist. “That is an excellent idea, William!”

  Aroch nodded with a grunt of assent, and that’s when the party really began. We ate heartily, drank deeply, told tales of our adventures, and danced until the twin suns fell beyond the towering peaks of the Whitesword Range. The wyrm tamers even gave us a bag of Sola chips to feed Silver in between bites of meat. I considered asking them whether it was a good idea to feed Silver the meat of his own kind, but considering they were the experts, who was I to question?

  Eventually, Petra and I broke away from the celebrations. This would be the last moment of peace we might have for some time, safe among the orcs of the Wyrmtooth tribe, and there was something very important I had promised myself I’d make good on when we had a moment’s safety.

  “So, Petra,” I said softly as we walked to the tent that Aroch had raised for us, “I was wondering… as this is probably the only spot of rest and safety we’re going to have for a while--”

  When Lib first told me that dryads were primal creatures, she wasn’t kidding, because I didn’t even manage to finish before Petra spun around, her eyes bright as she
hugged me tightly.

  “Yes, most definitely, we should do that as soon as possible,” she practically cried out, her voice thick with desire as a green blush crossed her nut-brown cheeks. “Come! I’ll raise a bit more shelter if you think we need more privacy!”

  “I think that if anyone would interrupt you while you make love to her,” Libritas cooed in my ear, “Petra would tear them apart before diving back into the moment.” She was clearly amused by the dryad’s eagerness.

  Me, I was just as eager as she was. Petra was so many of the things I desired in a woman: strong yet soft, fierce yet loving, and as passionate about life as I was. And to say that the fact that she was drop-dead gorgeous didn’t add to my attraction to her would be a lie.

  “Is it a bit odd that I feel so close to her after only a few days?” I sent back to Lib as I let Petra drag me along eagerly.

  “Your father thought the same when he met your mother.” The Brand’s voice became wistful, full of nostalgia. “You Uplanders do seem to be more… restrained in the realms of love. The people of Etria… let’s simply say that we love freely and often.” Her tone became clearer as she seemed to come back into the moment. “Love her, William, the way you feel in your heart, and the way she feels for you.”

  I smiled broadly. “You don’t need to tell me twice. My only question is if you’ll be watching. Not that I mind so much if you’re into that sort of thing, but, well…”

  “Only if you invite me,” Lib sent back cryptically, but before I could press, she continued. “However, for now, until I have come a bit more into myself, I think it would be best if I gave you both your privacy this once.”

  That only brought up a baker’s dozen more questions, but before I could get one in, Petra was eagerly broke away to the tent flap. I found my eyes drawn to her swaying hips as she threw it open and gestured grandly, raising up a curtain of soft grasses from the valley floor.

  “I’ll finish getting things ready if you wouldn’t mind taking care of stowing our supplies and taking care of Silver?” the dryad cooed as she did a little shimmy of desire.

  “I think I can take care of that,” I said with a grin.

  As for Lib, there was no harm in letting her have her secret right now. Reggie once told me that most people need to keep a few secrets to be happy, and while I wasn’t sure I agreed with that, I could let it slide for the moment. Instead, I got to work stowing our packs and making sure Silver ate an extra helping of meat and Sola chips. The little guy was absolutely adorable as he ate it all up. As he nibbled away, I emptied one of our packs, tucked in some of the shredded bedding Ogrith gave me, and propped the leather open with a stick.

  “You ready to bed down for the night, buddy?” I asked.

  Silver snapped up the last bit of wyrm meat, gobbled it down with a flash of his silver fangs, and chirped at me happily. His bright eyes then swiveled to the little nest I made for him, his nostrils flared with a sniff, then he clambered right into the bag.

  Ogrith had been right. Silver really was cute right now, but we would definitely have to be careful when he grew--

  My thought was ripped from my head as thick vines looped around my waist and dragged me back, past the little pile of supplies I had set before the tent, and into the dimly lit darkness inside. By the time my sense caught up to my body, I wasn’t just wrapped in vines. I had a voluptuous dryad with her arms clinging around my neck, her body hot with need against me as she kissed me with abandon.

  That delightful heat spread through her sweet lips and through my body, and as I became hard as a rock, I pulled her tight, crushing her to my chest as I deepened the kiss. After a long moment of that fiery moment, we both pulled back a few inches, eyes wide as we stared at one another. In the gold-and-silver light of Libritas’s mark on her chest, the dryad’s eyes seemed to burst with the colors of the rainbow, the green leaves of her hair shining as her smooth skin practically glowed.

  “I was going to ask if you were ready for this,” I said softly, my lips still tasting of walnuts and strawberries, “but I guess that would be a dumb question.”

  “It would be,” Petra replied huskily, her eyes half-lidded as she leaned closer to me. “And yet, I thank you for thinking of me, of what I want and need.” Her breath hitched up as she rested her head against my chest. “Khaba va’Khem… Uruk… they both used me, twisted me, made me do terrible things… but you? You think of my wants, you ask my counsel, you--”

  I ran my right hand through her leaves, reveling in the exotic feel of it and the fibrous twigs that formed the roots of her hair. As I did so, Petra shivered in a mix of comfort and delight, and she let out a sharp breath that was hot on my chest. Keeping that in mind for later, I ran my free hand in slow, soothing circles over her back.

  “It’s because I love you, respect you,” I whispered in her ear. “Everything we do tonight and every step of the way from here on out, it’ll be with your consent. By your will and desires.”

  She turned her head, craning up so she could look me in the eyes, and there was the faintest glimmer of joyful tears in her eyes. “And I’ll never leave your side, William. You are my savior, my passion, and I will do anything to make you as happy as you make me.”

  “Then I think the first step is to get out of these,” I nodded down at my clothes and her, well, leaves, “and find our way to happiness, huh?”

  I wasn’t even done talking before Petra went to work. Earthy passion replaced her soft submissiveness as the vines that still lightly clung to me reached up. They tore at my clothes, slipping my belt free and casting it aside as they yanked my tunic off over my head. By the time I could see again, my trousers were a distant memory, and before me, the greenery that formed Petra’s traveling clothes fell away just as her armor had, the leaves and vines falling away to reveal what had to be a vision from the gods of this fantastic new world.

  The startling thing was how much more wonderful that hourglass shape, the wide hips and large breasts, looked now, even though I had already so much of her body. After all, when we first met, she wore little more than a bikini of plants, but Petra’s full glory was so much more. As with her delightful lips and blush, each soft breast was tipped with a deep green nipple, already hard with need. Then, my eyes traveled down her body, past the flat, toned stomach, where another circle of vines sprouted from her hips and along the lines of her pelvis right to her center. There was her already dripping, needy core, wreathed in small leaves and curling vines.

  “Is this all that you desired?” she whispered thickly as her gaze crept down my body. As her eyes locked on my rock-hard erection, her eyes widened just a hint. “What I see most certainly is.”

  I smiled as I stepped forward, her vines still clutching to my arms, my neck, my waist, and put my hands on her sides. Every inch was perfectly smooth, not even the faintest hint of peach fuzz as I slid my fingers down to tangle in the vines at her hips. As I used that gentle hold to pull her near, Petra bit back a moan as a shiver of lust ran through her body. So, it wasn’t just the leaves of her hair.

  “I think you already know the answer,” I said thickly as I teased at the quite literal bush at the junction of her thighs with my cock. While I did, I also ran my fingers down her hip-vines to the base to rub the soft skin where it joined with the plants.

  This time, there was no holding back the moan of desire as the dryad’s head tilted back towards the ceiling of the hut. The shining brand in her chest flared to life like molten metal, and the grass of the valley floor surged up a good inch around us. As her head cast forward again, I swiftly cradled her head with one hand, sure to massage every bit of sensitive skin under her leafy hair, as I captured her mouth with my own.

  Her breath was fire hot as we came together, her vines dragging me towards her even as I pressed her into me. Her bountiful chest pressed into my own hard muscle, her nipples like thorns that brought a delicious bit of pain to our kiss, even as a renewed moan passed from her lips into mine.

 
“Thank you, William,” she gasped in between kisses.

  I could only gasp out an agreement as her fingers tangled in my hair, gripped my bicep… and her vines wound around my erection, pulling hard and strong. I was almost taken aback by how quickly she was bringing me to my climax, but I bit it back, bit back the need for release. A hiss of delight escaped my lips as I kept one hand cradling her head and stroking her leaves, as my other drifted to her needful pussy, fingertips rubbing through the sensitive greenery there to give her the same treatment she was giving me.

  As we worked each other to greater heights, there was no further pretense of pretty talk or sweet nothings. We tumbled into the soft grasses, growing thicker and higher with each new height of Petra’s passions, vines tangling us together into like the chains that bound us together, earthy green and shining platinum hand in hand.

  “Please,” her moaning cry came. “I-I need you…” How much and where she needed me was clear, the fire inside her was about to explode, and my fingers pulled out of her slick and wet. I cut off her further cries with a kiss, my hand moving to caress her breasts as I shifted to straddle Petra’s hips. The flesh was firm and inviting in my fingers as I shifted my other hand from her leafy hair to grasp her hand.

  I barely had time to position myself properly before her hip-vines let my throbbing dick go to wrap around my waist. As our fingers twined together and our tongues roamed, the vines went taut with a tantalizing bite and dragged me down. As I plunged deep inside the dryad, she broke the kiss, a tremendous gasp rippling up through her lips.

  Petra’s vines tightened and loosened as I began to pump, following my self-same rhythm like a heartbeat. With every movement, every grind and arching of bodies, a grunt escaped my lips as a fresh moan came out of the dryad. Higher and higher our passion spiraled until, finally, I brought her to her release, her body tensing and clenching around me. As that last throaty moan of ecstasy ripped out of her lips, I planted my mouth over hers, taking in that breath of passion as I let myself go, orgasming through one final thrust.