Her gaze flicked to Avilla and then Cerise as she said the last part, and I wondered how much she’d put together. The witches certainly weren’t advertising their relationship, but that kind of thing can be surprisingly hard to hide. Had she guessed?
I tried to keep my face impassive as I thought that one through. I wasn’t actually going to make the pair of them run some gauntlet of obscure perversions to earn their keep, of course. But the fact that Beri was willing to go that far actually said good things about her. She was perceptive enough to realize just how bad her situation was, smart enough to recognize potential salvation, and practical enough to do whatever it took to convince a powerful stranger to save her. A girl like that could be handy to have around, as long as she was on our side.
By then they were both helping Avilla with the cleaning, which only added to my distraction. A guy could get used to that kind of thing.
“I notice Tina hasn’t said anything,” I commented. “Why is that?”
“She’s just shy,” Beri began, but Tina put a hand on her arm.
“I’m not all smart and stuff like Beri, milord,” Tina said hesitantly. “I asked her to talk for me. We’ve been friends forever, y’see. But I listen good, and I can work really hard. Um, an my boobs are still growing, an the sheriff always said my blow jobs were the best in the village?”
I sighed, and patted her on the head. “I can make a girl’s boobs grow as big as I want, Tina. I‘m good with that kind of thing. Ah, is it common for local sheriffs to expect that kind of service form village girls around here?”
“Of course,” Beri replied matter-of-factly. “Why wouldn’t they?”
“Lovely. Alright, girls, I’ll go along with Avilla’s audition idea. Do a good job between here and Lanrest, and I’ll consider keeping you on permanently.
“Thank you, milord!” They both curtsied enthusiastically.
I chuckled. “You’re welcome, girls. But I’m not actually a lord, so you’re going to have to stop calling me that. Just ‘sir’ will do.”
Really, I was tempted to tell them to call me by name in private. But just because Americans have a pathological aversion to class distinctions doesn’t mean the rest of the universe agrees, and I was pretty sure violating the local customs that much would just cause trouble. They were probably going to be confused enough when I didn’t beat them or force them to have sex with me.
“Done!” Avilla announced happily.
I looked down to discover she was kneeling at my feet, having just finished washing the blood off of them. The top two buttons of her dress had come undone at some point, and the position afforded me a breathtaking view of her cleavage. I looked away quickly.
“Great. Where’s that other change of clothes, then?”
Cerise chuckled, and pulled a bundle of cloth out of one of the bags. “Here you go. Still worried about an attack?”
I nodded. “Yeah. I suppose I could fight naked if I had to, but it would be rather embarrassing.”
Well, it was a better excuse that ‘I’m trying really hard not to get an erection while your girlfriend is sitting at eye level with my dick’. That would really be embarrassing. Not to mention hazardous, if Cerise decided to get jealous and backstabby with those knives of hers.
I looked up from pulling a fresh pair of pants on to find Avilla pouting at me.
“What?”
But she just sighed, and turned to the pot of water. “Nothing, master. I’d better get these clean before the water cools.”
“You’re the expert. Alright, time to get some work done. As often as you girls end up in nothing else I’d better put warmth enchantments on your cloaks first.”
Neither had complained much about the cold, but their eyes lit up at that.
I spent the rest of the afternoon on little projects like that, while the storm raged on outside. After the girls were taken care of I made a few extra warmth cloaks to share among the wounded, and did another round of healing. Then I sat down to do some more experimenting.
It was easy enough to levitate a little disk of stone above my hand, but enchanting it to fly around was surprisingly tricky. After some experimentation I realized that the control problems were basically the same as trying to make an aircraft fly solely on vectored thrust, which is the kind of complicated problem I could easily spend days or even weeks trying to solve. Since I was looking for a faster way to transport the refugees that didn’t seem very practical, although I resolved to come back the problem in the future. Being able to fly would be amazingly useful.
I played around with other ideas for a bit, looking for one that might work. Stone golems pulling stone wagons? Amulets enchanted to ‘heal’ fatigue continuously? Levitation spells on the baggage? Most approaches turned out to be impractical on examination, either because they’d require too much enchantment time or because they needed an effect my sorcery didn’t want to provide.
Eventually I decided to let that problem stew for a bit, and turned my thoughts to weapons and armor. So far I’d been pushed way too hard in all of our fights, and I could easily have lost one. Any real power gamer will tell you that if the outcome of a fight is in doubt when it starts you’ve already screwed up, so I was determined to find a better way to deal with giant monsters.
Force fields had proved invaluable so far, but keeping one running often took more concentration or mana than I could spare. Force blades were devastating at close range, but their lack of mass made them a lot less useful at a distance. I needed substantial improvements on both, and a bigger mana supply, and a way to make myself more durable, and some defenses against being surprised, and...
I reigned myself in before the list could get too long. One problem at a time, Daniel.
Some experimenting with the power tap enchantment I’d come up with revealed that the rate it generated mana was determined by the size of the object it was tied to. So my tiny little amulet might last for centuries, but its energy output was relatively modest. If I wanted a real power source I’d need something bigger.
Fortunately that was an easy problem to fix. I could conjure stone easily, and with a constant power source metals were possible as well. So my new amulet was a thick bronze disk about three inches in diameter, suspended from a braided rope of copper threads. I took the time to work out a proper on/off switch for this one, as well as a remote cutoff just in case an enemy got hold of it one day. It weighed a couple of pounds, enough to be a bit uncomfortable, but I’d live. The extra weight meant it delivered more than ten times the energy of the original version, and there were all kinds of things I could do with that.
For starters, I could enchant it to surround the wearer with a force shield on command so I wouldn’t have to do that myself. I carefully constructed a substantial energy reservoir to hold the shield up against any sudden flurry of blows, and took advantage of the hefty power supply to make the barrier considerably stronger than the ones I’d been using as well. With that running I might actually make it through the next fight without getting covered in blood.
But I couldn’t count on it withstanding every attack, so the next function I build in was automatic healing. There was no way to make it especially intelligent about how it dealt with complicated injuries, but it was surprisingly straightforward to have it just indiscriminately dump healing energy into the wearer. The result should look like natural healing sped up by a factor of a few hundred, which ought to make even really serious injuries survivable.
I had a thousand other ideas, but my crafting was interrupted by dinner.
That was a communal affair for the whole group, although I was surprised to note that Avilla seemed to be running things. She stood at the hot stone surrounded by a clump of peasant women, who seemed happy enough to follow her directions even if most of them were older than she was. The younger ones passed around plates of flatbread and bowls of a surprisingly Asian-looking vegetable stir fry, although I doubt sliced wolf flank was a common ingredient even in China. A coup
le of the older women stood by the improvised stove slicing vegetables and filling bowls, while Avilla merrily cooked and gave directions at the same time.
There was no table, of course, but Beri led me to an empty stretch of floor she and Tina had apparently staked out for me. Cerise brought me food with a little grin that said she was amused at playing servant, or perhaps it was just the way her girlfriend was taking charge again.
“I see Avilla has things in hand here,” I commented.
“Looks like it.” She shook her head. “Don’t let her fool you. She acts all meek and innocent, but when she decides she wants something she always makes it happen.”
“She’s a good woman,” Sergeant Thomas put in from where he was sitting a few feet away. “Brave, a good cook, and a real beauty. If she wasn’t taken already some noble’d snatch her right up when we get to town.”
“When’s that like to be?” Another voice put in, and I turned to find that old Hrodir had made his way over to join us. “If we’re still headed to Lanrest we’ll be out of supplies before we make it, unless you mean us to eat monsters.”
I was too busy eating to answer for a moment. Damn, but Avilla could cook. Most of the vegetables were unfamiliar, but if I closed my eyes I could almost imagine I was back on Earth in some fancy Asian restaurant.
But these people needed leadership, and Captain Rain was still in no shape to give it. As crowded as the room was quite a few of the refugees could hear our conversation, and I had no doubt they’d pass on anything interesting they overheard. Time to get my game face back on.
“The wolves seem pretty tasty, actually,” I observed. “I’m sure I can hunt down another one if need be, and turnabout is fair play.”
Several of the young men laughed at that, and one of them made some comment about getting a taste for wolf heart. The bravado was encouraging, but what surprised me was the feral grins from some of the young women. Maybe the local villagers were made of sterner stuff than I’d thought?
Hmm. Or maybe Avilla’s magic was having more of an effect that anticipated. That could be useful.
“As for our destination, I’m open to suggestions,” I went on. “I’m not crazy about spending a week walking through the woods fighting off every troll and goblin in the area, so I’m looking into some magic to help us all travel faster.”
One of the older men shook his head. “Ain’t nothin good ever comes of common folk messing with dark forces,” he grumbled.
“Ah, shut it, Jed,” another one exclaimed. “The wizard knows what he’s doing.”
Judging from the expressions that was a contentious issue. Several men had nodded knowingly at Jed’s comment, and now others were looking angry.
“No, he has a point,” I interrupted before an argument could get going. Startled faces turned to me, and I went on. “Magic is a dangerous tool, especially if you can’t see the power you’re working with. It’s like a blacksmith trying to use an invisible flame - even if you’re careful you’re going to get burned sooner or later. Normally I’d advise you all to stay well away from it, unless one of you had natural talent and wanted to spend a few years training to master it.”
“But with the woods full of monsters and the weather getting worse, magical dangers are the least of your problems right now. If we keep on the way we have been we’re going to keep losing people, and the slower we move the worse it will be. So unless you think you’re lucky enough to walk from here to Lanrest on your own without getting eaten, you’re going to have to risk it. I’ll do my best to make this as safe for you all as I can, but you’d better listen close when my apprentices and I are giving directions or you never know what might happen.”
Hrodir nodded. “You’ve been a godsend so far, sir wizard. We’ll trust you to see us through.”
That seemed to settle the issue, at least for most of the group. Unfortunately the conversation then turned to the topic of our destination and its likely safety, or lack thereof.
No one in the group had a map, so I had to struggle to piece together a mental picture of this land’s geography as the older villagers discussed the various towns and castles they’d heard of. I quickly gathered that the reputations of the local lords were a bigger factor in their minds than the defenses of their settlements, for reasons that would never have occurred to me.
“Baron Stein might take us all in if we make it to Lanrest,” Hrodir explained when I brought it up. “But then again he might not. He’s not the sort of lord who forgives taxes during a famine, if you take my meaning. Like as not he’ll decide we’re just more mouths to feed, unless he figures he’s got a use for us.”
“Yeah, but no one else has any obligation to us at all,” Gronir pointed out.
Hrodir shrugged. “Fair enough. But it ain’t like they’re going to be checking close about what village we came from, is it?”
I chuckled. “Well, I’ll say one thing. I can see a lot of lords might panic and shut everyone out of their towns, especially if they aren’t stocked for a siege and their priests are warning them about what’s coming. But a man who reacts like that only a week into a crisis isn’t going to hold his people together for long. Panic spreads, and once his vassals start looking out for themselves instead of pulling together their defenses will fall apart quick. I’m not interested in getting my own people caught in a mess like that, so if that’s what we find at Lanrest I’ll be moving on with you.”
Most of the group seemed shocked at that, but Hrodir just nodded. “I thought you might see it that way, sir.”
“I, ah, that’d put us in a bad spot, sir,” Sergeant Thomas said hesitantly. “The company was in service to Baron Stein, y’see.”
“Hmm. Are you his vassals, or some kind of mercenary outfit?”
“Oh, that’s kinda complicated, sir. We’re technically part of the Margold garrison, that’s a big free city down on the coast. But the city fathers don’t like payin fer troops to sit around the barracks causing trouble, so they hire us out to the country nobles. We get half pay from Margold, an make up the rest on mercenary contracts. So I’d hate to abandon these folk, but breaking a contract don’t sit right neither.”
I scratched my chin. “Fair enough. I’ll point out that I could make a good argument the ‘5th Marigold Foot’ doesn’t exist anymore, but that’s going to be up to your captain. I expect he’ll be well enough to make decisions by then, even if he isn’t back on his feet yet.”
“That’s good to know, sir.”
After that it was all pointless wrangling over questions we couldn’t resolve. The light dimmed quickly as the discussion dragged on, and the women collected the bowls and utensils and washed up.
None of the women joined the conversation, not even Avilla or Cerise. Apparently women were supposed to be seen and not heard around here, at least when the men were talking. It was quite odd to see such a large group meekly complying with an informal rule like that, but if they minded they certainly didn’t show it.
I did notice that some of the older women would pause to whisper in a husband or son’s ear now and then, and these incidents were often followed a few minutes later by a new question or a change of opinion. But they were discreet about it, and I probably wouldn’t have noticed if I wasn’t still concentrating on figuring out the local customs.
At length it started getting hard to see, and the discussion broke up as the refugees went to bed. Sergeant Thomas went off to set up a watch schedule, and Cerise sauntered over to collect me.
“Bedtime, master,” she murmured suggestively. “Unless you’re going to stay up all night working magic in the dark and exhaust yourself again.”
“I could come up with a way to make light if I wanted to,” I pointed out. “But I suppose it would keep you awake.”
“Mmm hmmm. Come on, you. Avilla’s got her little minions all set up to make sure we have some privacy. If you disappoint her again she’ll never stop pouting.”
I frowned as we passed through the door to the priv
ate chamber I’d made. The maids had apparently set up their bedrolls right next to the door, and were waiting there to close it behind us.
“Wait, what’s Avilla disappointed about?” I asked Cerise as we passed through the door.
Cerise rolled her eyes. “You can’t be that oblivious. Is this that weird age thing again?”
“Age thing? What age thing?”
The door closed behind us with a solid thump, and the million background noises of the refugees were abruptly cut off.
“You know, where you were all put off because one of the captain’s girls is only fourteen? I guess that’s supposed to be to be too young where you’re from?”
“Well, yes,” I replied hesitantly. “But what does that have to do with Avilla?”
“Nothing,” the girl in question put in. “I’m at least twenty, no matter how you count it.”
I turned to face her as she sat up from the nest of blankets she’d been lying in, and gulped.
A single candle lit the tiny room, revealing a breathtaking expanse of flawless feminine curves. Her breasts rode high and firm despite their impressive size, shifting slightly with her breathing. A cascade of golden silk spilled down across them, framing their magnificence while hiding absolutely nothing. Good god. She was even more beautiful than I’d thought.
“Well, that’s a relief,” Cerise said wryly. “I was starting to worry you were gay.”
I realized I was staring, and tore my gaze away. “Um, what… urp.”
I was just in time to see Cerise finish unbuttoning her dress, and shrug it off her shoulders to whisper down into a pool at her feet. She wore nothing underneath, and while her lithe body might not catch the eye as firmly as Avilla’s sumptuous curves it had its own undeniable appeal.
“Ah, girls? I thought you two were…”
“Lesbians?” Cerise prompted. “Nah, that would be way too limiting. Hedonism is a big part of my craft.”
“I still say you’re just a natural sex fiend,” Avilla teased.
Fimbulwinter (Daniel Black) Page 8
