Last Strathulian Standing

by Daisy Dexter Dobbs

  Jia-Nian nodded, remembering the stories her Zalvanean grandfather had told her as a child. “I’ve heard the same. My grandfather claimed his people came here in the belly of a great bird from a distant star because their home was dying. I never knew whether he was speaking the truth or spinning imaginary yarns meant to amuse a child.”

  “All I know,” Aydon said, “is that the Zalvaneans have ways unlike those of any others I’ve ever known. They have advanced knowledge and yet a clear fragility that prevents them from being able to fully protect themselves.”

  Jia-Nian nodded in accord. The thought of those kind, giving people being enslaved and tortured by Tordanuk filled her soul with dread.

  When her gaze met Aydon’s again she glimpsed a curious expression. “Why do you look at me so, Aydon?” She smoothed her fingers down her cheeks. “Does my face bear the imprint of my olive leaf pillow?”

  Aydon smiled. “It does, faintly, but that’s not what caught my attention. This,” he said, threading his fingers through her hair and lifting it from her shoulder. “I wouldn’t have expected it.”

  “What?” Her hand went to her hair, searching for a burr or cluster of wayward leaves. When her fingers met Aydon’s, he closed his around hers and his gaze intensified.

  “This treasure hidden by yesterday’s thick cloak of mud,” Aydon answered. “I am not the first to run my fingers through your tresses, Jia-Nian. The strands of burnished gold among the amber are surely evidence of Ko’Loran’s fiery touch.” He leaned in close, palming her neck, and Jia-Nian’s heart danced at the feel of Aydon’s hot breath against her cheek.

  Danior gave Aydon’s arm a firm nudge, then turned his head and snorted.

  “He senses danger,” Aydon said. “Quickly now.” He boosted Jia-Nian onto Danior’s back. “We must make haste.” In the next moment Aydon was seated behind her and they were riding fast, with his arm wrapped firm against her waist.

  “If we encounter Tordanuk’s men or other dangers,” Aydon said, “I want you to run for cover. Once the battle is over and Danior and I are victors, I will call for you and we will ride again. But if we are felled, then you must take care and find your way to a safe haven where you will be protected.”

  She opened her mouth to protest but thought better of it. As if she would even for a moment consider abandoning them in the midst of battle. Creeping off like a coward to whimper in the bushes as they fought. Why the very idea!

  “Jia-Nian, do you hear? Promise me.”

  She looked over her shoulder into his firm, earnest gaze. “Yes, Aydon,” she said meekly, the way men expected women to behave—helpless and subservient. “I promise.”

  As Danior galloped, Jia-Nian felt the wind in her hair and the weight of her brother’s sword sheathed and resting on her thigh. Indeed, fighting shoulder-to-shoulder with Aydon, she’d put the weapon to good use against those worthless, ugly Pushgan heathens.

  ———

  “By all that’s holy, woman, do as I say!” Aydon barked as he hacked left and right, combating the small band of Pushgans surrounding them.

  “Save your breath. I’m not leaving you, Aydon.” A second later Jia-Nian was dragged from Danior’s back. She struck one fiend in the throat before piercing another in the back, retrieving her sword quickly enough to lop off the arm of a third brute about to slice open Aydon’s thigh.

  Leaping from Danior’s back, Aydon was at her side.

  In a flash of movement, Jia-Nian spotted Danior’s hoof delivering an agonizing blow to the groin of the brute who had dragged her from him.

  Her days had been so quiet, so common, so…mundane before Tordanuk’s army of evildoers transformed her life into one of spurting blood, mortal screams and the ever-present stench of death.

  When she was finished slaying these dogs, she would have to find time to reflect on the pleasant, uneventful mornings when her mother taught her to create torches by soaking the pithy core of reeds in molten tallow. Or the lazy afternoons when she and her grandmother would make soaps from fragrant cassia oil.

  She remembered her mind wandering as she helped prepare the family’s main meal each day. How she’d yearned for less tedium and more adventure in her life as she formed fragrant millet-onion cakes. Seemingly impossible romantic notions filled her girlish mind as she steeped mustard greens in fermented wine vinegar with honey and herbs.

  Had anyone suggested that all too soon she’d be the last of her people, struggling to survive and to aid the two men who had saved her from certain death, she would have scoffed.

  The stinging swipe of a heathen’s blade against her shoulder put a stop to Jia-Nian’s roving thoughts.

  “Jia-Nian!” Aydon cried.

  “I’m well, Aydon. Keep your focus on the conflict!” Swallowing back a cry of pain so as not to further distract Aydon, a mere somber moan escaped Jia-Nian’s lips as she swung her sword, tearing a gash in the well-fed belly of her attacker. Pain threatened to overwhelm her as the taste of bile rose in her throat and she fought to keep from succumbing to a faint.

  Clearly Danior had seen the fiend’s attempt to slay her because the next thing Jia-Nian knew, the magnificent brown beast let forth with a formidable sound. She watched him rear up on his hind legs and come down hard on her attacker, trampling him with a vengeance.

  After running through the last of Tordanuk’s men with his sword, Aydon bellowed a mighty growl, joining Danior’s mission of retribution. With a swift, exacting blow, he severed the head from the bludgeoned body of Jia-Nian’s attacker.

  A battle cry welling strong in her breast, she struck a final blow, shouting as she plunged her sword into the Pushgan’s groin.

  Sword in hand, its tip touching the ground, Aydon surveyed the scene.

  The ground was purple-red with Pushgan blood and strewn with their repulsive three-eyed, gray-fleshed corpses. Danior seemed relatively unscathed and Jia-Nian…by the gods, Aydon wanted to throttle that willful, mulish woman.

  Why hadn’t she listened to him and retreated when he’d instructed her to do so? He’d never encountered a woman so foolish and obstinate.

  Or so incredibly brave and daring.

  Not to mention exceedingly alluring.

  He stared down at her as her breasts heaved while she sucked in life’s breath after their exhausting battle with the Pushgans. She too held her sword at her side, assessing their surroundings. Then she lifted her stormy gaze to his.

  “You rash, reckless, foolhardy little wench,” Aydon growled. “You gave me your word. You swore to me you’d stay clear of danger. You could have been killed.”

  “As could you or Danior, had my sword not joined yours in battle,” she retorted, giving him a determined, defiant look that made him want to grab her, spank her and fuck her senseless.

  “We can take care of ourselves,” Aydon said. “We don’t need a fragile woman slowing us down, hovering over us and fidgeting with worry as we fight. Especially a woman inexperienced enough in battle to be wounded as you were.” He nodded to her shoulder.

  Aydon saw her wince at that. He knew it was a low blow. Jia-Nian fought as bravely and well as any man he’d accompanied in battle. But she had to learn her place. A woman’s place. She had to listen to him, to allow him to protect her. In the short time he’d known Jia-Nian, he knew he didn’t want to lose her.

  Her jaw clenched and Aydon could tell she was fighting back tears from the sting of his harsh words. The knowledge made him feel worse than swine.

  “You need me, Aydon,” she insisted, refusing to give in to weeping. “You and Danior both. Like it or not, I will be at your side during every battle henceforth, so get used to it. As for my wound, it is no more than you or Danior endured during the clash. It will heal. I am not a delicate babe in need of coddling.”

  They stood staring at each other and filling their lungs with breath until Aydon could no longer stand the torment.

  Closing the distance with one long stride, he wrapped his arm around Jia-Nian’s
waist, yanking her hard against his body and capturing her lips in a deep, plundering kiss. He gave no thought to what she wanted, only to the ferocity of his own consuming need. It seemed she was as hungry as he, for she met Aydon’s crushing kiss with eagerness as he pressed his erection against her belly.

  Jia-Nian’s lips were soft as they moved against his. Her supple flesh tasted of salty sweat, coppery blood and dirt, but her mouth…ah, her warm, wet mouth offered nothing but the sweetest nectar as her tongue warred with his.

  Encouraged by the needy mewl of Jia-Nian’s moan, Aydon intensified the kiss. This was no long, lazy, gentle melding of lips. It was a fiercely carnal kiss, laced with passion, need and a sense of desperation, as if this might be the first and last time their lips would have a chance to meet in this lifetime.

  Aydon felt her short nails dig into his shoulder as Jia-Nian ground her belly against him, fueling the raging fire that soared from his balls to his cock. Each wet glide of her tongue against his, each panting breath she took, had his desire mounting until nothing but the feel of her hot cunt sheathing his cock would suffice.

  “Please, Aydon,” she said, breaking their kiss and looking into his eyes. “Take me…fill me. Make me feel alive in the midst of all this death.”

  The rational, controlled part of Aydon surfaced long enough to ask, “Are you sure, Jia-Nian? Be certain, sweet one, because once I start, I doubt I’ll be able to stop.”

  “I’ve never been so sure of anything.”

  About to tear at the laces of his breeches, Aydon spied the carnage around them. The severed limbs, split bellies, decapitated heads.

  “Not here,” he said, more than a bit surprised he had the presence of mind to keep himself from thrusting into her where they stood to appease his aching cock. She looked around them, as if almost forgetting they were in the midst of a bloodbath, and nodded. He sheathed his sword, motioned for Jia-Nian to do the same and then lifted her onto Danior’s back.

  “The sun will soon set,” he told her. “We must find shelter for the night before that.” Her compliant little sigh almost did him in. As they rode, Aydon reached his hand in front of her but instead of clasping her waist as he usually did, he searched between her thighs. She was already wet for him.

  He brought his fingers to his nose, sniffing her earthy perfume and then licking her taste from his flesh. “I can smell the womanly scent of your desire, Jia-Nian. I can taste it.” She whimpered and his craving for her nearly made him shudder.

  Aydon’s jaw clenched against the searing need at his cock.

  Control. He must maintain control…master his emotions…be in command of his lust-driven thoughts. The spirited wench had no idea the seductive power she wielded over him, and he wasn’t about to let her know.

  He wasn’t a patient man, but patience was all important now. Their coupling would be like every other cock-to-cunt encounter he’d had, and the gods knew there had been many. Once he fucked Jia-Nian, the potent lure would end. He’d be free of the wild carnal hunger that threatened to consume his thoughts. It would be easier to keep her in her place, to subjugate her feisty bravado.

  His finger slipped beneath her clothes again and found her clit.

  Jia-Nian’s thighs clasped together instinctively and she moaned. It was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. Aydon rubbed the erect little nub with his finger, making slow circles as she writhed atop Danior’s saddle of furs.

  “Oh gods, such a stir you cause within me, Aydon! You make me feel quite unlike I have ever felt before.” Her voice, thick and husky with a desire, had his cock so hard Aydon feared it would never recover. “My secret places are wound tight and yearn for release,” she told him, leaning back against his chest.

  His finger still busy at her sweet spot, Aydon lifted his other hand, the one clutching Danior’s reins, to her chest. Cupping one of her breasts, he rolled the nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

  Jia-Nian indulged in a melodic chorus of passionate utterances as her body tightened. It gave him greater satisfaction than he had anticipated to send her spirit on the mystical journey between the world of the living and the dead, where bright colors shone, pain was nonexistent and the body was treated to unspeakably pleasurable delights.

  Releasing her nipple after her quivers subsided, Aydon’s hand rested against his cock, desperate to unfasten his breeches and relieve the increasing ache. But he closed his eyes for a moment, willing himself once again to summon patience, for there would be no need to bring himself to release with his rough hand tonight.

  Not with a warm, willing, sensual woman like Jia-Nian to hold close and fuck until the light of dawn.

  Chapter Four

  The attack and lengthy clash with the Pushgans had cut the light of day short. Mere moments after the trio found suitable shelter, night cloaked the sky in a veil of stars and the moon shone bright.

  “Damn you, Aydon,” the naked Danior growled as soon as he’d shifted to human form. Fisting Aydon’s tunic, he yanked him up from the fire Aydon had just built. “Do you have any idea what that was like for me? What that did to me?”

  Aydon scowled at the fierce, accusatory expression across his friend’s face. “Since when am I a seer?” he responded, removing Danior’s hand from his tunic. “State yourself plainly, man, so I have a notion of your grievance.”

  “This!” he said, yanking his furs from the ground and shoving them under Aydon’s nose. “I speak of this!”

  One whiff of Jia-Nian’s musky scent of desire imprinted on the fur brought Aydon immediate understanding.

  “Yesterday you cautioned me,” Danior went on, “told me we had to go slow with her.” He gestured toward a wide-eyed Jia-Nian. “Because she’d been despoiled just days before by Pushgans.”

  Aydon waged war with the fingers of guilt threatening to tear at his soul. He’d been so crazed with lust he’d all but forgotten about Jia-Nian being ravaged by the heathens. He gave a curt nod. “I recall the conversation.”

  “Yet today,” Danior spat, “with my senses heightened in animal form, you tormented me. As I carried you on my back to safety, my world was besieged by the rich aroma of Jia-Nian’s seeping nectar as you pleasured her. By the soft mewling sounds of her satisfaction at your hand.”

  Her hand cupping the residue of the herbal poultice she’d prepared and applied to their wounds, Jia-Nian gasped, backing away. Aydon spared her a quick glance before returning his attention to Danior.

  Danior buried his face in the furs, deeply breathing of Jia-Nian’s womanly scent. Locking gazes with Aydon, he cried, “Gods, man, what a cruel predicament you inflicted upon me!”

  Thick and overt, silence hung between the men. Struggling with his thoughts, Aydon refused to allow his simmering anger to surface. Again he reminded himself that his own ineptitude had sealed Danior’s cruel fate and caused this uneasy predicament.

  “You’re right,” Aydon admitted finally. “I confess to giving you nary a thought as we rode. My mind was a blur, a weighty shroud of lust, of need, and my only focus was Jia-Nian.” He placed his hand on Danior’s shoulder. “I was less than a true friend today. I regret my selfishness and impatience, Danior.”

  Gazes still locked, Danior’s eyes were intense. Even Aydon, certainly no expert in sensitivity, could recognize anger married with frustration and sorrow swirling in the brown depths.

  As they stood, the turbulent darkness leached from Danior’s gaze. He closed his eyes briefly and nodded.

  “I know…I know, Aydon.” He looked up, calmness washing over tension-strained features. “It’s not your fault. Were I in your place, I would have done the same.” He glanced over at Jia-Nian and smiled. “Our feisty Strathulian is most enticing.”

  Her cheeks coloring, Jia-Nian’s lips curved into a tentative smile.

  “It’s just—it’s just hard fighting with my two selves, yearning to break free of the damn horse’s way of thinking. Longing to stand on two human legs by day, to be a man and partake in a w
oman’s sweet fruits.”

  “I’m so sorry my selfish actions caused you grief,” Jia-Nian said from her position against an old olive tree. “Forgive me, Danior. I will rein in my needy feminine yearnings in the future.”

  Danior strode to the tree and Aydon followed.

  “It’s not your fault, little warrior,” Danior said, cupping her chin and planting a soft kiss on her lips.

  “Listen to him, Jia-Nian,” Aydon said. “He’s right. You have done nothing wrong.”

  “And it’s not Aydon’s fault either,” Danior added. “It’s Shivrane, that fiendish three-eyed bitch from the innermost depths of hell, who is to blame for my anguish.”

  Jia-Nian stroked both Danior and Aydon’s jaws with her fingers. Such valiant, heroic souls they were and how fortunate she was to have them in her life. The delicious look of them, the deep resonance of their voices, the feel of their hard muscles, was like sunlight shedding warmth on her solitary existence.

  At a time most bleak and sorrowful in her life, her warriors had restored Jia-Nian’s hope, her faith, her belief in the magical, romantic notions she’d held dear to her heart for so long. Was it any wonder she found herself enraptured by their very presence? That her breasts tingled and her womb trembled at their touch?

  It was her turn to give back to them. To give freely of what little she had left to offer.

  “We lose time,” she told them. “Remove your garments, Aydon. I want you both naked.” She watched the men exchange quick glances before looking at her again.

  “If we three are to fuck,” she explained, “then we should make haste so as not to waste the precious night. Would you not agree?”

  That two such bold, brawny men could look like a pair of confounded little boys brought an amused smile to Jia-Nian’s lips. Gods but they were handsome specimens of manhood.

  “Must I repeat myself?” she asked, fisting one hand on her hip while gesturing to Aydon’s tunic and breeches with the other. As it was, Aydon undressed so quickly she’d barely have time to repeat her instructions in the interim.