Courting Crazy: the Green Lord, Book 2

by JG Jerome

  “Don’t you move,” shouts Saureg, but Thorn goes off to do my bidding as I reach out to Louis with my will and remind the cells in his arm how they were meant to be, remembering how they were before I cut them off.

  The flesh in his legs extends down the exposed bones to cover the stumps, and then the bones themselves extend to full length and differentiate themselves into the myriad small bones in the foot and ankle. The flesh and the bones in his arms starts to extend into hands. Louis is breathing rapidly as the flesh and bones regrow. Eventually he has very slender hands and feet that slowly flesh out. All the thirty-some-odd goblins in the audience chamber are muttering among themselves.

  Thorn comes in with the bucket of water. “Help him drink, Thorn. Thank you.”

  Then I turn my attention to Saureg. “Honestly Saureg, I would like nothing better than to spend the day torturing the fuck out of you for sending Louis and Maddock to hurt my people. But I need to get to the Winter Court rather urgently. After seeing you, how you conduct yourself, and how you treat your people, I think I’ll just kill you now. Anything you’d like to say for yourself before I free your people?”

  Saureg stands up and shrugs off his cloak. Despite being a sack of piss with a pot belly, Saureg’s shoulders, arms, and chest are covered in ropy muscles. He shouts, “I am going to cut off all your limbs and fuck your skull until you die!” He grabs a sword pommel that is sticking up from the right arm of his throne. It looks like Spatha, but longer. Maybe like a longer variant of a Sarmatian cavalry sword. The broken goblins in a circle around Louis try to scurry out of the way.

  I shrug, “I was just going to shut your cells off. It would be a nice and easy death for you, but if you’d rather go out humiliated and cut to pieces in front of your people, I’m happy to help.” He is just about on top of me with the blade over his head poised to cleave me in half. I blink up to his throne and stand before it.

  I look down at the ladies, “Ready to be free?” I ask them. I pull Louis’ sword and then I cut the iron rings with it. Saureg turns around and looks at me incredulously. I tell them, “Go see Salt and Thorn to get those collars removed.”

  I step down off the dais and limber up my arm. He charges me and swings across his body at me. I blink to his right and cut the back of his right knee. He falls to the ground. He gets up onto his injured knee and swings backhanded at me. I step forward and cut up from my left across his wrist and up. His hand, still holding the sword, flies through the air.

  I blink to his left and cut off the left arm below the shoulder. The blade continues to cut into the flesh over his ribs. Thankfully, it doesn’t stick.

  I walk around to the front of him. “So, Saureg. If you ask for mercy, I’ll put you to sleep and shut your body off. You’ll die peacefully with no more pain. Choose.”

  Saureg spits at me and says, “Fuck off! I’m going to chew your face off!” He lunges at me with his one good leg. I step to my right, his left, off his line of attack as I raise my sword high. I swing down and cut through his muscled neck. As he falls forward, he manages to take the front of his neck out of range of the edge of my blade. I grab Saureg’s scalp in my left hand and raise his head.

  I use a backhand cut under my left arm through the remaining sinews and then lift Saureg’s head. I turn it so his eyes face me and tell him, “Saureg, I have punished you for attacking my people. Your punishment is over. I forgive you and wish you a better time of whatever comes next for you.”

  I gently and respectfully set his head in the small of his back facing forward. Then I run my left hand over his eyes to close his lids. I then wipe my sword on his pants. It looks clean, so I sheath it and disconnect the sheath from my belt.

  I walk to Louis and hold the sword out to him, “I believe this is yours, Louis. Thank you for the use of it.”

  Chapter 39 - Unexpected Complications

  He takes the sheathed Spatha from me, and then he gets up on his new feet. He says, “I am ready to serve, my Lord.”

  I nod, “Report to Solange until we finish this mission. Take trail when we travel. Who is next in line for the throne of the Goblins?”

  Louis says, “We don’t work that way, Lord. Changes in regime are only due to death. You are effectively the new King of the Goblins.”

  I shake my head, “No. The king of the Goblins should be a Goblin. If you were to appoint someone to the throne who would you appoint?”

  He doesn’t hesitate, “Salt, Lord. He’s skilled and strong enough to keep it, smart and not cruel.”

  I look to Salt, “Salt, are you up to the challenge of taking the throne for your people?”

  Salt says, “Shit.”

  I ask him, “Does that mean you’d be delighted? Or do you have another candidate you’d like to curse with the job?”

  He shakes his head, “Nah, I can’t think of anyone I hate that much. I guess I’ll do it.”

  I chuckle, “All hail King Salt! Your highness, I am heading to the Winter Court. By your leave, we’re going through your portal, and we will return back later today. Thank you for your gracious indulgence.”

  Salt laughs crazily, “Get out of here, Jack. I’ll see you later today. Thorn, guide them to the portal.”

  Thorn responds, “Of course, my king.”

  I point to Saureg’s sword, “Do you have need of that, King Salt?”

  “No, Jack. Take it with my compliments. Don’t forget the sheath on the throne. One point though…”

  I blink over to the sword and retrieve it. Then I blink to the throne, slide the sword into the sheath, unhook it from the throne, and fasten it to my belt as Salt continues, “...being the owner of the sword that killed Saureg, that makes you the rightful king. As you appointed me and gave the sword to Louis, you have really muddied the succession by our customs. I really need to own the sword that killed Saureg. Symbolically, it’s important to our people.”

  ‘Oh shit,’ I think to myself and then ponder that. Salt continues, “The sword you hold was important to Saureg’s legitimacy, as it is the sword he used to kill his predecessor, King Asher. It has no importance to me or my people now. Louis’ sword does.”

  I ask Louis, “Louis, does that blade have any significance to you?”

  He shrugs, “I know a bit of its history. My father collected blades. This is the blade that King Asher used to kill his predecessor, King Jophat. It was originally the family blade of a Roman infantry officer in Britain. One of King Asher’s family killed him and took it centuries ago. I picked it from my father’s collection when I was a boy. I’ve had it a long time, but I have no desire to rule the people.”

  I pat the pommel at my side, “This is the sword then that killed King Asher. It’s a similar origin, but it’s longer. I’m guessing a Sarmatian cavalry sword. As tall as you are, this might be a better weapon for you. Would you trade?”

  Louis smiles, “Yes, my Lord.” I unbuckle the sheath and swap with Louis. He smiles as he buckles the sword to his belt.

  I pull the ‘king’s blade’ and salute the new Goblin King, and resheath it. “King Salt, my apologies, I neglected to hand you your sword,” I say with only a slight smirk. I hold it out to him with both hands.

  Salt walks up and grasps the sheath on either side of mine. I murmur to him, “I am not throwing you away, Salt. I would like to consider this exchange a symbol of my commitment to you. I would like to be an ally.”

  Salt grimaces, “You’re going to be a pain in my ass for a long time, aren’t you, Jack? I suppose an alliance is good, assuming I survive. I will have to defend the throne. I’m still in good practice, but the body is wearing, and I’ve got this persistent cough that I can’t shake. It’s taking my wind. I won’t survive long.”

  I look him in the eye, “Do you want to die?”

  “I acknowledge it’s going to happen one day, but I’m not in a hurry,” he says.

  I release the scabbard and place my hands on his. I assess his health and see that he has a mass in his lungs and so
me old injuries that will impact his mobility and flexibility. “Don’t move,” I tell him, and then I reach in with my mind and kill the cells of the mass in his chest and remove them. I put them between the legs of Saureg’s corpse. Then I repair the injuries I noticed, reset his immune system to ensure he doesn’t get cancer again, and energize all his cells to optimally use energy.

  Salt squints down into my eyes, “What did you just do, Jack?”

  I look back up at him and smile. “I just healed you, King Salt. Please step back and act king-like.”

  He chuckles and does just that. He announces in a clear, strong, growling voice. “Go forth on your mission, Jack Jerome. From this day forward be known among all the Goblin people as the Green Lord, and friend of the Goblin People.”

  I step back, give him a centurion salute, and bow my head sharply and raise it quickly as a kenpo artist would.

  I call to my entourage, “Let’s roll, people!” My ladies join me as I follow Thorn. Louis follows them to watch our trail.

  As we approach another arched corridor, the five ladies in collars run up holding their chains in their hands. The smallest of them calls out as they approach, “Lord! Please wait.”

  “Hold up, Thorn,” I tell our guide.

  Solange pulls her firearm, and L’liana and Supreet pull blades as they range in front of me between the former slaves.

  ‘The smallest’ description is a bit misleading. She’s easily 5’10,” built like a fitness model with breasts the size of small grapefruit. Her skin is a darker shade of grey than the others, and her flesh and dark hair all have a greenish tint to them. Her skin along her flanks and neck are dappled with even darker green spots. She has prominent tusks and her eyes are tilted upward towards her temples like a Manga character with dark green irises and black sclera and pupils. The others range from maybe an inch taller to one that is at least two inches taller than my 6’2.” Their figures range from fitness model to the big girl having a physique that would shame a hardcore male bodybuilder. All of them are naked, and all of them appear sexually excited. I’m guessing that from the nipples popping out to bursting, and two of them- interestingly enough the small green one and the big girl - have fluids running down their legs.

  Solange is in the center of my arrayed ladies in a modified Weaver stance. I tap her left shoulder, and she makes room for me to step out. Remembering what O’ren said about having the ability to remove anything from a living body, I crook a finger at the spokeswoman. I tell her “Come here and turn around.”

  Okay, that is distracting. I’ve never seen a grey-green ass before, but I imagine this is an award winner. ‘Focus, Home Team!’ I hear Solange snicker as I place my right hand on the Goblin’s shoulder and squeeze my fingers between her collar and her skin. The collar is tight.

  I see Salt walking up with a grin on his face as I will the collar ‘away.’ It parts in my hand. I reach up with both hands, spread the collar, and push it forward off the girl’s neck.

  “There you go, Miss. You’re free. Go back to your family.”

  She spins and steps back. As I beckon the next one to me, the green one gasps, “Lord that is not permitted. We were sold to King Saureg to pay debts. If we go free to our families, our families’ will once again be in debt, but to you! We were the king’s property. As the vanquisher, we belong to you.”

  I motion for the next girl to spin. She does, and I grab her collar and repeat the removal performance. As I push the collar past her neck, she grabs my wrists and pushes back into me. She looks over her shoulder and says in a rich contralto voice, “Lord, collar or no collar, I belong to you.” She spins and kisses my cheek before dropping to her knees at my feet. The green girl kneels next to her and drops her chains at my feet. The others, still holding their chains drop to their knees before me.

  Salt laughs gently, “I don’t suppose you’re into goblin women.”

  Solange laughs, “My Lord likes all women, King Salt. Lord, we’re going to need a bigger seraglio if you keep this up.”

  Supreet and L’liana put their blades away and join in Solange’s laughter. Solange holsters her weapon.

  Salt laughs, “Our customs are our laws, Jack. Our custom states that debts cannot be transferred from one to another except through combat. It’s a shame, because I would gladly take these beauties off your hands. It is not permitted. Having seen how you dispatched Saureg, I’m not in a hurry to join mortal combat with you either.”

  I frown at him, and he laughs again. I look down at the girls at my feet. “Don’t move,” I tell them. I walk around behind them and remove the remaining three collars.

  I start with the big girl, who grasps my wrists and kisses my hands with a moan as I drop the collar in front of her. The next one sits meekly on her knees as I remove the collar. I notice many scars on her back. I place my hand on her shoulders and heal them. She gasps in surprise. The final one sits meekly and then turns to wink at me as I pull my hands back. I chuckle and caress her cheek with a knuckle.

  I walk back around to the front of them. I survey them all kneeling at my feet when I notice they all have spread their knees wider than they were when I walked around behind them. They are all definitely aroused.

  Salt says, “You vanquished a king that has held the throne against all challengers for over two hundred years, Jack. They each want you to breed them - preferably as rough as you can make it. Goblin women are drawn to strength.”

  I purse my lips, and I hear my three lovers murmuring amongst themselves. I think they are making bets as to which one I will bed first. I shake my head and then tell them, “Okay, I don’t have time to sort this out right now. You are all concubines in my family. Prepare to be indoctrinated into my service.

  I approach the spokeswoman first. “What is your name?”

  “Berenga,” she says with a big smile.

  I shake my head, “You do know that I read Wild Wastes, too. Right?” She frowns and drops her head. “Don’t ever lie to me again. If you do, I’ll send you back to your family. I already have a first wife. The best you can hope for now is valued concubine. What is your real name?”

  “Frances,” she says. “Just don’t call me ‘baby’ please, Master. I got so tired of that joke as a child.”

  “Frances it is,” I tell her. “I tend to have pet names for my ladies. You may end up as Frannie. Is that okay?”

  She looks up at me with a huge smile around her tusks, “I would love for you to call me Frannie, Master.”

  I cup her face, lean down, and kiss her. The tusks make it different, but she is warm and welcoming in her response. “Welcome to the family, Frannie.”

  The second one says, “My name is Karla, Lord.” She reaches both arms up like a child asking for a hug.

  I lean in and kiss her. She holds me tight, and I feel her start to lean back. I press into the pressure points in her upper arm to open her embrace. I look at her sternly, “Don’t slow me down from my mission, Karla.” She has the grace to drop her eyes in shame. I kiss her forehead and tell her, “Welcome to the family, Karla.”

  The third one is the one with the saucy wink. “My name is Sherrine, my Lord.” She holds me for the kiss, but lets me go when she feels me pull back.

  “Welcome to the family, Sherrine.” I notice Solange beside me lifting Karla to her feet, kissing her quickly on the lips and welcoming her to the family. Supreet is in front of Frannie.

  Sherrine winks at me again coyly as she says, “Thank you, Master.”

  I look to Solange, “I think this one is going to be ‘Saucy.’ Whaddya think?”

  Solange chuckles, “Then she’ll fit in with the rest of us just fine, my Lord.”

  The fourth refuses to look me in the eye. I ask her, “What is your name dear?”

  She shakes her head. “My parents refused to name me knowing they would have to give me away as a slave. They just called me ‘four.’ I have no name to tell you, my Lord.” She slowly raises her head to mine.

  S
he has a scar running across her left eye and down her cheek. Her breasts, stomach, and legs are marked with scars from both a lash and a blade.

  I drop to my knees in front of her and cup her scarred but pretty face. “Honey, I don’t know why anyone would torture you like this. Even if you were a prideful, spiteful woman, you wouldn’t deserve this.”

  The big girl says, “She isn’t. She is the most meek and humble of us all.”

  I lean my head against hers, “I apologize for not healing all your hurts when I noticed the scars on your back. They were bad enough. I could never imagine what’s been done to the front of you. Please forgive me.” I feel tears leak from my eyes at how the poor girl has been treated. I flood her with healing energy as I search for more damage or illness in her body. I heal her body to perfection.

  I sit back, and she leans in to kiss my tears away. “Don’t cry for me, Lord. I am just a slave girl of no worth.”

  I tell her as I look into her eyes, “You are healed of all marks on your body and all injuries. Over time I will work to heal you emotionally, too. You have worth. You are full of potential. You are beautiful. And I am honored to welcome you to my family.” I lean in and kiss her deeply, as though she were already one of my beloved ladies.

  I sit back, “From this moment, your name is Grace. Grace, welcome to my family.” I kiss her again just as deeply. As I back away, I see her tears running from her face. I lean back in and tell her, “You most definitely are worthy.” Then I kiss her tears dry as she kissed mine. I get back to my feet and offer her my hand. She rises in a way that epitomizes her name. I kiss her deeply once more before turning her over to Solange, who pulls her in tight for a hug before kissing her.

  I finally look down at the big girl. “What’s your name, dear one?”

  She shudders as I look into her eyes. She asks, “What are you doing to me, Lord?”