Echoes

by Nathan Ravenwood

  Sometimes a Lord needed someone to do dirty work. Ansel was more than happy to fill that role for Branna, especially since the money he made was enough to cover the “whatever your filthy heart desires” rates at his favourite brothel. He felt like he'd earned a blowjob and a fuck from the pretty young redhead that was always incredibly eager to accommodate his more... physical requests. She seemed to get off on it.

  Neil interrupted his forward thinking. “Sir?” he asked. “What about the wildlings?”

  Ansel turned to regard the scruffy lot. They stared back at him with naked hatred in their eyes. He smiled cruelly. “Tighten up their bonds before we leave,” he said. “If they escape, they'll be free men. If not...” He shrugged. “That's their problem.”

  Chapter Five – Briarhaven

  “Vann, Vann! Vann, wake up!”

  Vann jerked awake, forgetting where he was for a moment. Then he saw the ghostly face in front of him and yelped before everything came back to him and he clamped a hand over his mouth. “What?” he mumbled around his hand. “What is it?”

  Rorzan pointed downwards. “There's something you gotta go see. It's... oh, I can't describe it, just get going! Quick, quick, quick!”

  Vann hurriedly untied the twine binding himself to the tree and stood up carefully, peeking around the trunk. “Where's Janaza?” he asked.

  “Already there!” Rorzan said. He tried grabbing hold of Vann's hand to tug him down, but naturally his hands just slipped right through Vann's flesh, leaving his hand tingling and cold. “Dammit, keep forgetting about that,” Rorzan grumbled. “Just come on!”

  After shouldering his pack, Vann shimmied back down the tree, Rorzan entreating him to go quicker and quicker. When he reached the bottom, the ghost pointed to the north. “This way, this way, come on!” He flitted off through the woods, Vann trailing close behind. The ghostly Lord led him through the densely packed trees, and Vann heard the sound of rushing water.

  Ahead of them rose a small hillock, and Rorzan motioned for Vann to get into it's lee, putting a finger to his lips. He mouthed “keep quiet” at Vann, then pointed over the incline. Vann set his jaw and crawled up the incline on his hands and knees, keeping his motions careful and deliberate.

  Over the small hill was a wooded grotto, a reasonably wide stream flowing down over rocks to form a small waterfall. The banks were rich with dark soil, flowers sprouting from the ground and lining the sides of the flowing water. Within the water were several large, flat rocks that had likely fallen from the incline above them. On one of them rested a cloak, a cloth top, and a knee-length skirt.

  Janaza stood in the steam under the small waterfall, completely naked and exposed. Her hair was out of its braids, flowing in inky rivulets down her neck and shoulders, ending halfway down her back. She was busy attacking it with a wire brush, her face wincing every time she tugged at a particularly annoying snarl. Her body was turned towards them, her foot resting on a rock, revealing how her flat belly flowed downwards into her mons. Her pubic hair was trimmed and triangular, water beading on it as it flowed down the length of her body and making it shine in the late afternoon sunlight.

  Seeing her completely naked made Vann flush to his eartips, and he knew he should look away, but couldn't. His desire and need for the orc reared up in full force as he drank in her femininity in full. His cock came to life like an dragon waking from slumber, pressing insistently against the inside of his pants.

  “Told you it was something nice to look at,” Rorzan said.

  Vann practically threw himself backwards off the hillock, twisting his body so as to not land on the guitar as he did. “You are just the worst!” he hissed. “You're a lech. A lecherous lich!”

  Rorzan held up a finger. “You get points for wordplay, good on you. But come on, Vann, she's right there. Don't you just want to walk over that hillock, strip off your clothes, and join her under the water for a bit of fun?”

  “We are running for our lives!” Vann said, pointing an accusatory finger at the ghost.

  “So? Never a bad time for a roll around.” Rorzan shrugged. “You never know what might happen tonight. We could get attacked by wolves, the trackers could find us, a meteor could come smashing down on this forest! And as the wall of earth rolls over and suffocates you, you'll think 'oh, if only I had taken Rorzan's advice and...” He trailed off.

  Vann slowly turned his head to see Janaza standing atop the hillock, looking down at the both of them. Her expression was flat, only a slight twitch at the corner of her mouth betraying her disapproval. “Enjoying the show, boys?” she asked.

  Neither Rorzan or Vann said anything for a long while. The only sound was the wind whistling through the trees. Then the ghost pointed at Vann. “It was his idea.”

  “Oh, go fuck yourself, Rorzan,” Vann said.

  “Would if I could, kiddo. Would if I could.”

  Janaza glared down at them for another few moments in disapproval, then turned and strode back down the hillock to finish. Vann glared at Rorzan. “What?” The ghost protested. “Just trying to… facilitate a connection, if you will.”

  “Is that what you call it?” Vann said dryly, moving to stand behind a tree and dutifully staring out into the woods.

  “I'm just trying to bring you two together,” Rorzan said. “There's clearly some mutual interest. And I meant what I said about the meteors.”

  Vann snorted. “Or are you just trying to make something happen so you can vicariously fuck her?”

  “I mean I had my rolls around with plenty of orc women back in the day, so.”

  Vann blinked. “I thought you and Arielle were like… a thing?”

  “We were,” Rorzan said. “But we weren't necessarily exclusive.” He smirked. “Let me put it like this - most of the crazy shit that the Lords mads up to put in propaganda to smear us wasn't true. We didn't rupture people's eardrums by playing loudly, we didn't jam red hot pokers down their throats to ruin their voices, and we only catapulted one guy off the city walls into the ocean. We were drunk at the time and he thought it'd be a fun lark.” He smiled fondly. “Zakky was one hell of a troll. But anyways. The one thing they didn't exaggerate in their propaganda was the amount of sex we were all having. If anything, they understated it.” He waggled his eyebrows.

  Vann coughed. “You're kidding, right?”

  “Hells no! Every week there was an orgy going on somewhere, and Arielle and I attended them when we could. Kept our fingers on the pulses of our citizens.” He grinned wide, showing teeth. “And the tits and the pussies and-”

  “I get it, I get it,” Vann said, making a chopping motion with his hand.

  “You wouldn't believe how many people came to join us just because of the debauchery. You tell a man that's lived in the country his whole life that if he journeyed to Uada he might get a chance to lie with all manner of women he'll be on your doorstep in a week. Women let everything go, too. It was a great time, just unrestrained passion and untethered inhibitions.”

  “Sounds messy.”

  “Good sex is always messy, Vann. Take it from me.”

  Vann rolled his eyes. “So you're telling me that you didn't actually love Arielle?”

  Rorzan’s face actually darkened. “Hey, tread lightly there, Vann.”

  Vann was taken aback. “B-but if you were having all this sex with other women-”

  “Sex and love can exist independently, Vann,” Rorzan said, his voice possessing a serious tone Vann hadn't heard in it before. “Arielle was - is - my entire world. I would do anything for her. Sure, others may have joined us in our bed most nights, but at the end of the day, said bed belonged to just the two of us. Some people can't separate the two, and that's their prerogative. But for us, we took joy in both each other's bodies and in telling each other about our various trysts.” His smile grew wistful. “Something I always wanted to do is write a book about every woman I ever bedded. I remember each and every one of them.” He tapped his forehead, his face pensive. “Th
ey're all gone now, save for her. Right now, she's everything to me.”

  Vann didn't know how to respond to that. Rorzan actually had emotions other than smug jerkass.

  “Plus, I mean, you're totally right.” Rorzan gestured to his ghostly half body. “I'm not getting laid anytime soon like this, you dig?”

  Aaaaaand there it was.

  Janaza walked around the tree where Vann stood. She was still slightly damp, her hair drawn into braids again. “Shall we get going?” she asked.

  She didn't seem mad anymore, but Vann still didn't trust his mouth, not with the image of her naked body seared into his retinas. So he nodded mutely, and Janaza set off with him following, the same as the night before.

  Neither of them said anything for hours, until the moon was at its zenith in the sky. The trees had thinned out a bit, the forest growing a little less dense as they trekked. Moonlight filtered through the still pines and oaks, illuminating the carpet of loam underneath his boots and her bare feet.

  “I'm not mad,” Janaza said, almost hesitantly.

  Vann blinked. “What?”

  “I said I'm not mad.” She looked back over her shoulder at him, offering him a small smile. “Just... next time you'd like to look, have the decency to ask first.”

  Vann couldn't figure out what she was saying. She was perfectly fine with him ogling her naked, he just had to ask for it? It made no sense. Looking would be the preclusion to other things. Did she actually want that?

  He nodded. “R-right.”

  She looked past him. “This offer does not apply to you, Rorzan.”

  “Aw, come on!” Rorzan protested from where he floated behind Vann. “That's not fair!”

  Janaza winked at the both of them, then turned front-forward again. Rorzan hovered next to Vann's ear, making the whole side of his head and shoulder feel chilly. “She does remember I'm in control of who can see and hear me, right?”

  “I heard that,” Janaza said.

  Rorzan made a gagging noise. “How?”

  The orc made a dismissive motion with her hand. “I have a few secrets of my own, ghost. Maybe one day you'll know them.”

  “Why, you...” Rorzan grumbled. Vann put a hand over his mouth to hide his smile.

  They holed up in another tree the next day, having to backtrack a fair bit from where they decided to stop to find a bough able to support them. Vann stood on the high branches looking towards the mountains in the distance. At their base he could see a small town that seemed to have been built outwards from where the slopes began. It was a modest place, a few dozen square miles of houses, workshops, a water mill by the river that flowed down from the slopes. Past the town, Vann could see several trails that went up and over the mountains for direct access to the coast and the port cities on the other side.

  “We'll go in after nightfall,” Rorzan said. “We don't have any money, so we'll have to steal what we'll need.” Vann nodded, mentally making a note to pay back whoever they robbed later down the line somehow.

  Janaza ticked off on her fingers. “We'll need a cloak for you, Vann, and a spare for me wouldn't hurt. I'll need something to wrap my feet in, they're tough but not frost-proof. Maybe walking sticks. Definitely some food, even if it's just some bread and cheese.”

  “Do you know where the altar is?” Vann asked.

  Janaza pulled out her map. She tapped the highest mountain in the range, then looked up, her golden eyes sweeping back and forth across the peaks in the distance. “Mount Adagio. It's that one, I think.” She pointed to a mountain a little further away than the others, it's slopes covered in sparse trees before giving way to a snowy, rocked summit. “It's supposed to be in a cave somewhere.”

  “Climb the mountain first,” Rorzan said. “Then we'll find Arielle.”

  They slept the day away, along with most of the evening, waiting for the sun to disappear beneath the horizon behind them before setting out. As they left the cover of the forest, they moved a little slower, not wanting to draw the attention of any night watchmen or town guards.

  “No watchmen or anything, huh?” Rorzan mused as they reached the buildings.

  “They must not be concerned about being attacked,” Janaza said, drawing her hood up a little further over her head.

  “The High Lords have been at peace since the Metal Rebellion,” Vann said. “They don't have a reason to be.”

  Rorzan grunted. “They were at each other's throats all the time beforehand. Guess there's no better way to forge a peace than to find a common enemy to grind beneath your boot.” He looked around, his eyes flicking over the signs around them. “Now if I were a place selling goods to prospective mountain climbers, where would I be...”

  “Probably on the other side of town, closer to the mountains?” Vann offered.

  Janaza and Rorzan looked at each other. “That's... actually a good guess,” Rorzan said. “Why didn't I think of that?”

  They made their way through town, keeping their footsteps as light as they could. Every few houses they passed had a light on inside, and they made sure to walk quickly past, lest they draw attention to themselves. Rural people were often a little more nosey about who would be out and about walking after dark than those who lived in cities like Papreon. Twice, they had to duck into an alley as a member of the town's night watch turned a corner ahead of them holding a lantern.

  On the other side of town, the slopes of the mountains rising above them, they found a small shop with a sign hanging outside that read Galvan's Mountain Gear. There was a window facing the street through which they could peek, and they did. The shop was dimly lit, the owner having doused about half the lamps inside. The man himself stood behind the counter, counting money and writing in a ledger.

  “Okay, looks like he's about to close or is already,” Rorzan said. “Now we just wait for him to go home and we can help ourselves.”

  “I already see a flaw in this plan, Rorzan,” Janaza said. She pointed through the window. Across the shop's main room there was a door. It was half-open, but through the gap they could see a small apartment.

  “Balls, he lives here?” Rorzan said. “What kind of a life is that?”

  “Should we find another place then?” Vann asked.

  “That could take time, and the longer we dally the more likely it is we'll be found out,” Janaza said. She reached towards the shop's door, and twisted the knob slowly. “It's not locked.” Her eyes flashed. “I've got an idea. Vann, head around the back of the shop, there's a little window to his living area.” She reached into the folds of her skirt and withdrew a concealed knife with a bone handle and passed it to him, along with her bass. “I can't go in with the bass, that'll make him suspicious immediately. I'll distract him while you get it open and slip inside. Rorzan, come with me and stay hidden.”

  “Wait, wait!” Vann hissed, but Janaza was already moving. She rose and opened the door to the shop, stepping inside.

  “No hesitation. First Gods, I'm liking her more and more,” Rorzan said. “You heard the lady, Vann. Back window, chop chop!” He darted inside the shop through the window before Vann could stop him. Not that he physically could, but still.

  He crept away from the window and found an alley that cut around behind the shop/apartment. Vann walked as slow as he could down the alley, afraid of making any sort of noise whatsoever that would make a nosy neighbor poke their head out of their window to see him skulking about and blow his cover.

  As he crouched by the window, he pressed his head to the glass, trying to catch a hint of sound from inside, anything that would give an indication as to what Janaza was doing. Was she conversing with him, holding his attention? Was she knocking him unconscious? The minutes ticked by, Vann hugging himself against the chilly mountain air. Something's wrong, he thought. It's been too long.

  Rorzan's head emerged from the window. The ghost was grinning ear to ear. “The guy's good and distracted now, Vann. Now take that knife and jimmy it into the gap nice and easy. We don't wa
nt to make any sudden noises.”

  “What's she up to?” Vann said, slowly working the tip of the thin knife blade under the gap in the window.

  “Oh, you'll see.”

  Vann groaned. He put his weight against the knife and wiggled the blade back and forth. He heard the softest click as the latch came unhooked. He reached up and pushed on the top of the window, and the bottom swung outwards, creating a gap big enough for him to wiggle through. He set both his guitar and Janaza's bass against the wall, then slowly pulled himself up and over into the shop owner's apartment.

  A soft noise reached his ears as he slowly set his feet down on the floor, a slick, wet slithering noise, along with soft feminine noises of delight and male panting. It clicked for Vann what was happening just as he reached the apartment door. He felt his face burn. “Is she seriously doing what I think she is?” Vann whispered to Rorzan.

  “You bet your ass she is!” Rorzan cackled.

  Vann set his jaw and slowly eased the door to the shop floor open. Immediately his eyes flicked to the right side of the shop from his position, to the shopkeeper's counter. The shopkeeper's back was to him, and behind him, Vann could see Janaza kneeling, sucking his cock with wanton abandon. The shopkeeper was actually fairly hung, and Janaza's lips wrapped around his length gently as she sucked on him eagerly. She was being as loud as possible, wet slurping and sucking noises filling the small space of the shop. Her eyes were lidded, a look of rapture crossing her face, and Vann realized that she was legitimately enjoying herself.