by Eric Vall
“No deal,” Nulena chuckled as she began piling her own plate with wings.
I rolled my eyes as I headed toward the washroom, but Haragh and Dorinick stayed behind to assure the ladies they planned the evening with them were at the forefront of their minds.
And thanks to my enhanced hearing, I got to hear it all.
“That’s right,” the general said proudly. “The entire shop’s at your disposal, and if ye’ve never seen a drunken dwarf at a forge, then I’ll just say we can make a mace in half the time when we’re slurrin’. Name a weapon, and it’s yours. Hell, name ten.”
“Really?” Cayla gasped.
“Yes, ma’am,” Haragh chuckled. “And that ain’t all. Every creature ye’ see out there is under direct orders from the king of Illaria to do your bidding for the rest of the night, no exceptions. I believe his exact words were, ‘Consider all of Mason’s women as queens, and all that implies.’”
I raised my eyebrows while I strolled back into the room, and my women were frozen above the wings with their eyes already glinting with greed.
“Every single creature out there?” Shoshanne clarified.
Haragh nodded. “Yep. If they’re within the bounds of Falmount, they’re at your disposal.”
“Elves, too?” Deya checked.
“Yeah, they’ve been informed beheadings will take place if they fail to comply,” Haragh assured her.
Nulena drew a shaky breath as she promptly headed for the door, and my other women finished filling their plates before they pecked me on the cheek, told me to have fun, and hurried after the Baroness.
“Did Temin really say that?” I muttered.
“He did,” Haragh assured me. “And he said he’d make sure his vassals’ armies are prepared to man the kingdom while ye’ handle the Master’s fortress, but that’s the last word I’m sayin’ on the subject. Tonight, the Master might as well be dead as far as I’m concerned.”
“I’ll drink to that,” I chuckled.
Then Dorinick shoved a fresh pint into my hands, ordered the guards to open the doors, and stood back as the crowd poured in to join in on the feast. Within minutes, Flynt’s Pub was packed wall to wall, and I wolfed my way through eight pints and four heaping plates of wings while news of my women’s behavior kept making its way to me.
Around the time I switched to Rosh, I stopped being surprised by the things I heard, and when Kurna informed me Aurora made him bow at her feet and declare her the superior mage in front of all our Defenders, I clapped the man on the shoulder and told him it was about time.
Urn kept me updated on Deya’s elaborate planning session with the elves whenever he showed up for more wings, and the revenge she was forcing them to help her plot against Nalnora was strikingly similar to Dragir’s approach. She even made the warriors of House Fehryn swear their loyalty to her in the endeavor, and apparently they were now expected to refer to her as The Dreaded Deya Naera of House Flynt.
Cayla hadn’t left the dwarven shop since she got there, though, and from the sound of it, I’d be adding at least five new weapons racks to the training hall after tonight. She had the dwarves designing miniature weapons for our children as well, but Dorinick assured me he’d blunt the striker heads once the princess’ back was turned.
Whenever I asked about Nulena, my blitzed guests just raised their eyebrows and nearly tipped over, but I figured if she was killing anyone, they’d have said something by now. So, I just sat back and enjoyed myself while my allies drunkenly argued about which of my women would give me the fiercest spawn, and whenever they asked my opinion on the matter, I nodded and agreed with all of them.
I had no idea how long I spent inhaling wings and downing every glass that came my way, but I was swaying in my chair with Haragh and Kurna rambling beside me when Pindor stumbled in with a sloppy grin on his face.
Then the young mage tripped and sprawled himself across my table, and as he rolled into a seat, Haragh and Kurna doubled over laughing.
“Oookay,” I chortled. “Pindor, you are too young for Rosh.”
“Yeah, I am,” he hiccupped. “Too young for Rosh, but they’ll give me Rainard. The hell is that?”
“Ironic,” I said with a wobbly nod of my head.
“I’m gonna do it,” Pindor decided. “That’s it. It needs to be done, and I’m the one who’s gotta do it. So, it’s happening.”
“What’s happening?” Kurna snorted.
“I’m gonna do it!” the kid assured him, and he slammed his hands on the table hard enough to rattle all the cutlery. “It can’t be that hard, right? What’s an estate? It’s not a kingdom!”
“Rainard’s got several villages,” Haragh reminded him. “Ye’ gotta look after those, too.”
“Yeah, and fuck it,” Pindor drawled, and he snatched my vest as he nearly fell off his chair. “This guy does ten times as much! Look at this guy! Look!”
“I’m looking,” Kurna snickered.
“Good,” the kid hiccupped. “”Cause this guy… he’s fucking busy. You’re busy!”
“I’m busy,” I agreed.
“And so, so, so, so, cool,” Pindor sighed. “He’s so cool, he made up the word. And it’s the right word.”
All of us burst out laughing as the kid slumped from the weight of this announcement, and he had to splay his arms far across the table to keep himself up.
“So much to do, and so much done,” the kid mused. “Building shit and blood and stuff. D’you know you just kick everyone’s asses? Everyone! That guy’s ass… that other guy’s ass… crazy water chick’s ass. No one does that, but you do that!”
I snorted into my pint. “I do kick many asses, Pindor. It’s kind of my job.”
“No,” the kid countered, and his expression sobered despite how droopy his eyelids were. “You save lives, Mason. I’m gonna do that. I’m gonna be earl, too. That’s okay. But I’m gonna kick ass and save lives. S’what you trained me for, and I will not… le’you down. Not ever.”
His drunken commitment to this statement made all the tables around us chuckle as much as we were, but I patted Pindor on the back as he kept sliding down even further in his seat.
“I know you won’t,” I assured him. “You’re a good guy, and I’m proud of you, but you shouldn’t drink any more tonight.”
“No,” Pindor agreed. “I’m gonna go cuddle. I’m gonna cuddle with Mina because she likes to cuddle. There’s another thing you did! She was gonna kill me, but now she likes to cuddle! You wanna know why?”
“So badly,” Haragh laughed.
“Because this guy… ” Pindor slurred. “He’s a miracle. You’re a miracle, Mason. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. They got a problem with it, you send ‘em to me. I’ll do the stuff. Kick ass, right?”
“Kick ass,” I agreed.
And with that, the kid hauled himself up, toppled into the dwarves at the next table, righted himself, and stumbled out of the pub.
“We gotta keep these kids out of our Rosh,” Kurna chuckled.
“Oops,” I snorted.
The three of us were still laughing between swigs when Dorinick belched his way into the seat across from me, but we all tried our best to focus while the dwarven general struggled to put his words in the proper order.
“Match fields hand women,” the general garbled. “Hand women? Fields match out.”
“What?” I blurted as Haragh spat Rosh across the table.
“Match the fields,” Dorinick tried. “Women hand out. Out hand? Out of hand. There ye’ go.”
My wonky grin faltered. “My women are out of hand? Psh. Says you. They’re not even drunk.”
“No, the match,” the general drawled.
“What match?” Kurna chuckled.
“The fuckin’ match at the fields!” Dorinick growled as he threw his drunken arms up.
That brought me around. “Wait… there’s a match at the fields, and my women are in it?”
The general sighed heavily as he nodd
ed with exhaustion, and Haragh, Kurna, and I climbed over each other trying to get up as fast as we could.
Then we bombed our way through the crowded market while my residents did their best to send me swaying in the right direction, and with so much alcohol buzzing through me, the trek to the training fields felt like an insurmountable journey. I ran into buildings, tripped over elves, and got lost in more than one thicket of brambles, but somehow, the three of us arrived with only a few scrapes and bruises.
When I pitched forward into the field, I landed face down in the grass, and the amount of screams and roars surrounding me only made it harder to sort out my spinning head.
Haragh and Kurna managed to get me on my feet again, though, and they held me propped up between them so I could absorb the full situation.
The first thing I registered was the sight of Nulena lounging like a queen on a throne at the center of the arena, except her throne was made of elven warriors whose arms were shaking from how long they’d been forced to hold her up like this above their heads. The Baroness calmly sipped on a glass of ink black liquid while she watched the match taking place in front of her, and the hundreds of spectators who’d gathered for the occasion were belligerently yelling for the ogre ruler to get his ass in gear.
“Hoooly shit,” I chortled. “All four of them and Taru against Grot?”
“Aye,” Haragh chuckled. “Looks like he’s wearin’ down.”
“Use the flail!” I bellowed as I lurched through the crowd, and I grappled my way over dwarves and mages to get to the sidelines of the arena. “Aurora! Auroraaaa!”
“What!” the half-elf screamed as she whipped around, and I could tell by her fiery gaze that she thought I’d shown up to rein her in.
“I love you,” I said with a lopsided grin. “I was just gonna say you should use the flail!”
The bloody half-elf smirked as she blew me a kiss, and when she snapped her fingers, an elf sprinted into the field with an armful of weapons to choose from.
Then I joined the crowd in aggressively chastising the opponents Nulena ordered into the arena, and it didn’t matter whether it was twenty dwarves, ten elves, or even all of Grot’s pride.
My women and Taru sent every one of them running for their lives while Nulena chuckled from her elven throne. Then her two-toned eyes would scan the crowd for her next victim, and without fail, it was the ones who were scrambling to hide behind their neighbors that she’d call out.
Kurna made sure I had a plate of wings in hand through most of the matches, too, and Haragh did his best to out-yell me while we egged our women on until we were hoarse. It was around the seventh match that Nulena had her elven servants carry her over to me, and they trembled their way to their knees as they carefully placed her on the ground.
Then the elves collapsed with relief, and the Baroness curled herself against my chest as I drunkenly grinned down at her.
“You look like you’re enjoying yourself,” I admired. “What’s the creepy black stuff you’re drinking?”
“Oh, you know,” the Baroness sighed lightly. “Just the marrow of evil and deceit. Care for a taste?”
“I’ll pass,” I laughed. “You’re so grim. I love it.”
“Good,” Nulena purred as she looped her arm in mine. “Are you ready?”
“For what?”
Then the Baroness turned toward the field, and my four women sent me devious little smiles while they twirled their weapons between their hands. Taru had her club propped up on her shoulder as she waved, and when Nulena dragged me forward, the crowd exploded.
“Shhhit,” I muttered as I stumbled along. “How is this a fair fight? You’re all stone cold sober, and I’m drinking for ten!”
“Eleven, silly,” Deya giggled. “You certainly deserve to drink for you, too. You did so well getting us all pregnant!”
“Yes, you’ve earned it,” Cayla agreed.
“Thank you,” I snorted. “But you can understand the issue here, right?”
Aurora sent me a pity smile. “Ohhh, I’m sorry! Are we too much for you? I know even Mason Flynt has his limits, so if you don’t think you can handle--”
“Woman… ” I scoffed, and I held my hand out to an elven servant. “Give me a mace. And a sword. Actually, just give me one of everything. Kurna… hold my crown.”
“Yessir,” the brawny mage slurred as he hopped forward and snatched the crown off my head, and he sent Aurora a snide grin before he returned to Haragh’s side.
“Only three rules,” Nulena assured me.
“You said only two rules before,” Shoshanne countered.
The Baroness smirked. “No magic, no firearms, and no flashing Mason to distract him. He’s incapacitated enough as it is.”
“Thank you,” I chuckled. “I appreciate it.”
“Good luck,” Nulena purred, and before I could blink, Aurora’s flail swiped within an inch of my head as I yelped and stumbled back.
After that, things got convoluted while my women and Taru surrounded me and attacked from all sides, and the onlookers winced, hollered, and cheered for me to hold out while I tried my best not to get bludgeoned.
Luckily, I watched my women’s naked combat training sessions three nights a week, so I knew all their signature moves, and I did a decent job holding them off longer than anyone else had. I could tell when Deya was about to vanish because she got a mischievous smile five seconds before, and I knew her glaive would lash out at the back of my knees the moment she reappeared. Cayla always chuckled if she was about to try for an eye gouge or a blow to the throat, and both women teamed up like they usually did, so it was actually easier for me to track their advances.
Shoshanne never caught on that her blushes gave away her head strikes, though, and I blocked every attempt without fail while she gasped and laughed each time I did, and whenever I came up against Taru, the ogre was too sweet to really try and bludgeon me.
Instead, my ogre sister ended up on my team despite Cayla furiously shunning her for it, and the two of us were so close to winning that the crowd screeched their support like they’d been waiting all night for this moment.
Things took a nasty turn when Aurora realized I was taking it easy on her, though.
“You virile bastard!” the half-elf shrieked. “I saw that! You missed on purpose!”
So, I ended up sprinting from the field with her flames licking at my heels, and the crowd flattened itself to the sides while the elves hollered for me not to look back. Searing heat singed my boots as Aurora’s jets stayed in hot pursuit, and the ogres roared with approval when I tore the ground up and scaled the wall in one leap to make it out of there alive.
I didn’t stop running until I barreled into the pub again, and Dorinick collapsed in howling laughter when I just stood there sweating and panting my ass off. Then the dwarves made sure I had plenty of ale to help me recover, and I was so far gone within the hour that I didn’t know when the ale turned back into Rosh.
This was probably the switch that led to the six-hour black hole in my memory, though, and I thought I might have had some kind of ceremony with Grot again, but I couldn’t be sure.
Either way, I had a foggy recollection of tearing my women’s leather off as we crossed our bridge, and taunting kisses were definitely a thing as their naked asses lured me up our stairs.
The last thing I remembered was tilting my crown slightly to the side as Shoshanne got on her knees in front of me, and I thought I heard the word “master,” but I honestly couldn’t remember.
Chapter 11
My women were chatting nearby, and someone was stroking my back as I groaned and tried to move. I could already tell I wasn’t hung over thanks to my healing rune, but my mind still felt muddled like I’d only slept for an hour after pulling an all-nighter, and my limbs felt like lead.
Then a warm body laid itself out along my side, and Shoshanne’s soft sigh drifted over me.
“Good morning, master,” the healer murmured.
I pried one eye open while I tried to comprehend what the hell I just heard, but through my groggy gaze, all I could see were chains dangling from my wall that I didn’t remember ever installing.
“Whaaat happened?” I mumbled.
“I think you mean what didn’t happen,” Cayla giggled, and as I rolled over, I squinted hard to find my women sending me coy little waves from the lower end of our bed.
And by lower end, I mean the mattress was at a thirty-degree angle, and Deya had to climb up it to hand me a giant pitcher of water.
I strained to sit up. “Why is the bed crooked?”
“We don’t know precisely when the legs gave out,” Aurora sighed. “Bacon?”
I nodded while I guzzled half the pitcher down, and the half-elf smirked as she climbed up to hand me a plate piled with crispy bacon. Then Aurora slid back down the mattress and tumbled into Cayla’s lap, and I chuckled as I dragged myself up off the bed.
“I’ll fix it,” I mumbled.
I practically dead-flopped onto the floor while my platter of bacon teetered in one palm, and I furrowed my brow as I eyed the two iron legs that had snapped clean off the bed frame. I’d been going for an elegant design when I first made it, but now I could see we needed a much more industrial approach to furniture. So, I summoned my powers and borrowed some iron from the random chains on the wall, and while I tripled the thickness of all four leg mounts, I munched my way through my bacon breakfast.
When I finished the repairs, I rolled splat onto my back, and my five women had their chins propped up in their palms as they giggled down at me.
“Thank you, master,” Shoshanne purred.
“Why do you keep calling me that?” I groaned as I heaved myself up onto the bed, and I collapsed in the middle of the mattress while my women crawled over to join me.
“Because,” Deya giggled, “the way your voice got all gravelly when you told us to call you master was one of the best parts of the night.”
“The crown just made it even sexier,” Cayla added.
“I did not do that,” I sighed, but I had a sinking feeling I definitely did.
My memory was incredibly fuzzy, and most of last night was a wash of drunken blackness, but there was something vaguely familiar about this master business. Familiar in the kind of way that made me wonder if I should be burying my head in the sand right now or not.
