“Well, I need you clean today. We’re only a few hours from Tia Vashil. The only reason we didn’t go on was that it was late and my parents would have spent all morning accusing me of slipping back home in the dark of night.”
Pol looked from the tub to Kiera as she toweled herself off.
“Get in, Pol,” she said.
“Turn your back?” he asked, and was rewarded with a bark of laughter.
“You never once turned your back for me,” she said. “Fair’s fair, Pol, take your clothes off. I’ll watch.”
Pol turned around himself, stripping off his shirt, breeches, and belt. Now if only he could make the tub transport itself in front of him. A warlock should be able to do that, certainly. He paused for a second, trying to will the tub to appear on the floor before him.
Nothing happened.
He sighed, and turned around. He was already a little stiff from looking at Kiera and was a little unnerved when her eyes took in his cock and she bit her lower lip.
“Very nice,” she murmured as he took refuge beneath the water in the tub.
As Pol began cleaning himself, she gathered his clothes and opened the door.
“Master Flovius!” she shouted. The fat man came bustling out of his room, his shirt hastily tucked into his breeches. He took one hungry look at Kiera’s nude body, then averted his gaze as if it might burn his eyes out.
“Clean these,” said Kiera, thrusting the bundle of clothes at him. “Then dry them over the fire. We need to depart soon.”
The tavern keeper glanced at Pol’s soiled things, then at the thief in the tub.
“I’m sorry, Lady Kiera, but we have a very stringent policy about visitors in our guests’ rooms.”
“He didn’t stay the night,” said Kiera.
“Nonetheless,” said Flovius. “Unless you are married, I’m afraid I must ask him to leave.”
Kiera looked down with disdain, folding her arms beneath her breasts, lifting them slightly. Flovius’ stare broke from the floor to find its way to her chest.
“I suspect you’ll make an exception for me,” she said. “Or I suspect no one will do business with the Dancing Sorcerer ever again.”
“Of course, Lady Kiera,” stammered the fat man.
“Good. Then clean the clothes, dry them, and return them to me. It would hardly do if my companion stank of horses.”
“N-no, Lady Kiera,” said Flovius. He knuckled his forehead, smudging a bit of filth there.
“Oh, and Master Flovius,” said Kiera. “When you return, I expect your gaze to confine itself either to my eyes or the floor.”
She closed the door.
“Why does he call you ‘Lady Kiera?’” asked Pol.
“Well, ‘Sir Kiera’ would be a little rude, don’t you think?”
“There were a half-dozen knights down there, and they all had to pay for their rooms. He evicted the tenant of this one for you, and you don’t have any money at all.”
Kiera shrugged. “Some people are just nice to me.”
“And that threat you made sounded serious. Like you could actually ruin his business.”
“That’s why people are so nice to me. Because they know what could happen if they weren’t. Are you clean?”
“Not yet.”
“Do you need help?”
“Couldn’t hurt.”
Kiera knelt on the floor beside the tub.
“Where’s the brush?”
“I bumped into it a moment ago.”
“So you’re going to make me root around in the water for it? I don’t think so.”
“Oh! Here it is! I was sitting on it.”
“As I thought. Lean forward.”
Pol stretched forward, and Kiera began scrubbing his back.
“I always liked that song,” he said.
“Which song?”
“The one about the thief who marries the girl.”
“I’ve always hated it,” said Kiera. She stopped scrubbing, and ladled water over his back. It had begun to cool since he’d entered it and he shifted his back in response.
“Why?”
“Because, it doesn’t give two shakes for the girl. Okay, so the thief comes in and sweeps her off her feet and then what? Lean back.”
Pol leaned back in the tub, as Kiera began to scrub at his chest. He had a loose collection of hair that clung to the top of his body as the brush and the water attempted to dislodge it.
“Happily ever after?” he suggested.
“Hardly. He’s a wanted man, after all. She’s married a criminal. What happens when the Guard catches him? She doesn’t work. And the last verse makes it very clear he’s gotten her with child, so it’s going to be a hard scrabble life for her from then on in.”
“Maybe he’s a good thief. Maybe the Guard doesn’t catch him. Ow.”
Kiera was scrubbing at his ear with the brush. She rose up on her knees a little, squeezing in close to get at the other ear on the far side of his head. Her breasts nestled against his face and he turned and looked into her green eyes.
“Why were you singing it, then?”
Kiera gazed down at Pol, considering the sharp angles of his face as he stared up at her from between her breasts.
“I remembered it last night, and couldn’t get it out of my head,” she said.
Pol turned his head, capturing one brown nipple in his mouth and sucked.
“Oh, Pol,” Kiera gasped. The brush slipped out of her hand, deflecting off Pol’s shoulder before clattering to the floor. She stroked the ear she’d just been scrubbing. Pol’s hands ran along her body.
“I can’t stop thinking about you that night in the woods with the Canians’ Alpha,” he whispered as he released her nipple from his mouth.
“Largan. How much did you see?” she asked.
“Enough. I saw you riding him after you’d come,” he said. One of his hands had found her right breast and was cupping it. The other had begun to travel between her legs. “I heard the rest. I was so jealous.”
“He’s married,” said Kiera. Her hand stroked his chest. “Or whatever passes for married with Canians.”
“You had sex with him the next morning,” accused Pol. Fingers danced around Kiera’s pussy and clit, never quite making contact and she shifted a little, trying to encourage them to settle down.
“His wife was there. I was a toy to them. I... it had been a while since I’d been with anyone, Pol,” said Kiera. Her hand reached below the surface of the water. “The woman I saw you with?”
“Atti. She looked like you. She made me call her Kiera.”
“Oh.” She gasped as a finger pushed inside her, and her hand found his cock beneath the water, his erection hard and upright, and she pulled gently on it.
“Kiera, I couldn’t help myself,” Pol told her as they both began to stroke each other. “She was so willing, and it’s so easy for me to imagine you; I haven't stopped thinking about you since we shaved in the river.”
Kiera’s grip on his cock had become firmer and she lowered her head, whispering. “When Largan had his way with me, he told me you could hear us, and I came thinking of you listening. And I kept thinking about you and that girl at the farm where we got Brady.”
Pol released her breast, wrapping his hand through her hair, drawing her face to his, and poured his tongue into her mouth. Her breasts were pressed into his chest, and he added another finger into her pussy as she pumped on his cock.
There was knock at the door.
“Lady Kiera?” came Master Flovius’ voice, high, reedy, and timid through the wood of the door. “Your friend’s clothes are ready.”
“Vash damn him to the hells!” cried Pol as Kiera lifted away from him. She was flush and her lips were wet from their kiss. She covered her mouth with her hand and looked at him in silence.
“Lady Kiera?” came Master Flovius’ voice again.
“Don’t answer it,” whispered Pol. “Stay with me.”
Kiera smiled at him, but she shook h
er head.
“We have to go, Pol,” she said. Pol slapped the water in frustration.
* * * * *
Pol sulked almost all the way to Tia Vashil, and it wasn’t until they were practically in the shadow of the city’s massive walls that he forgot himself and gawked.
“They must be a two thousand marks high,” he said.
“I think it’s more like four hundred, but, yes, they’re quite tall. They were built by the Guild when the Sorcerers first came to Tia Vashil.”
The daily flux of the city was flowing in and out of a massive gateway, patrolled by a large contingent of the ever-watchful Guard, their lamellar armor lacquered a deep blue. Nearly two dozen carts were waiting to get inside the city, and Kiera and Pol were far from the only travelers in the queue.
“What are they looking for?” asked Pol.
“The Exarch has set quotas on certain items that might be considered contraband in a place like Lowvale,” explained Kiera. “Clan Leaf, for instance, and certain types of alcohol, like dragonwater. And, of course, the number of women and men who may work in the city’s brothels at any given time. The Exarch’s Office grants a number of licenses for people allowed to sell these things and in what quantity, and the numbers get adjusted at the beginning of each year based on what the books say about usage in the previous years. That way the Exarch can make sure that what would be a crime in another city is pursued in Tia Vashil in relative safety.
“Of course, that doesn’t mean people don’t try and smuggle those items in anyway, rather than go through the licensing process. So the guard is pretty thorough. They shouldn’t bother us though, we don’t have a cart.”
“Well, this is going to take us forever. And you made us skip breakfast again.”
“Your idea of breakfast was beer.”
“And now I have to wait in a line sober as a dog.”
“Shut up, Pol,” said Kiera. But the corners of her mouth hinted at a grin.
It seemed like hours before the last cart lumbered forward into the city and a young Guardsman beckoned them forward.
“Business in Tia Vashil?” he asked.
“You’re searching travelers now, too?”
“That’s the order, miss.”
“Lady,” corrected Kiera, and the Guardsman gave her a skeptical look. “We’re not merchants. And we’re clearly traveling light. What are you looking for?”
“Lady, is it?” The Guardsman looked at Kiera appraisingly. “Never had to search a lady before. Especially not one with a Dragon Clan crest. Would you mind dismounting and taking off your armor?”
“I will not.”
“Well, your ladyship, we’ll have to insist. Tia Joi’s fallen to the Dragon Clans, and we’ve got orders from the Exarch to make sure no Clan saboteurs make it into Tia Vashil.”
Kiera gasped and Pol blanched. Tia Vashil could boast the home of the Guild, but Tia Joi was the crown jewel of the Metropolises. Its loss meant that the center of learning and art in the East had been captured by savage nomads so backwards they didn’t even wear clothes.
“What are you talking about?” asked Kiera. “How could the Dragon Clans capture Tia Joi?”
The guard ignored her.
“Come on, dismount. Don’t worry, I won’t bite,” he said, grinning.
“I might, though,” said Kiera, her tone deadly serious.
“Ah, a fierce one,” laughed the Guardsman. He turned to his fellows. “Well, we know what to do with fierce women, don’t we, lads?”
The “lads” didn’t answer, their faces sober and wooden. The Guardsman looked around for some support, and was perplexed to find none forthcoming. One of his friends came up to him and whispered something in his ear.
Pol watched in fascination at the complex range of emotions that sped across the man’s face. His confusion increased for a moment, turning into disbelief, then paled into an ashen fear. He threw himself at the ground.
“Forgive me, Lady Kiera. I have never seen dragon jade before, I’m new, I didn’t know it was you,” he cried. “Please don’t tell the Exarch.”
“And let him know what sort of scum inhabits his precious Guard these days?” answered Kiera, snorting. “I wouldn’t dare. If I hear of you attempting to molest travelers again, it’ll go hard on you, though. Resume your duties.”
“Er...thank you?” said the Guardsman.
“Come, Pol,” said Kiera, spurring Blade into the city. Behind them, he could hear the other Guardsmen laughing at their comrade’s misfortune.
“Who in the hells are you, anyhow?” he asked Kiera.
“Kiera the Wilder,” she answered, her face not moving a muscle. Pol searched her eyes for the joke.
“Really?” he asked, when none was forthcoming.
“No, not really. Vash, you’re gullible. She was Kiera the Wilder.” Kiera pointed.
Pol looked up, past the huddled houses of the city of Tia Vashil, up to the sheer wall of a marble cliff that oversaw the city. On top of the cliff was a massive tower was huddled on the edge, but carved into the face of it was a gigantic relief of a woman, nude save for a strategically placed band of leaves that appeared to be agitated by some modesty-minded blast of wind. She was standing on the neck of a nude man, while in front of her a dragon reared in shock and surprise as lightning burst from her hand.
“Bit much,” said Pol, after a long period of gawking.
Kiera laughed. “She did save the city. This way, Pol.” He turned Brady around the right way as they plodded through the circuitous narrow alleys of Tia Vashil, winding their way up towards the hill.
Everyone knew the stories. When the Dragon Clans had first come streaming out of the West, determined to take the Metropolises, the Guild of Sorcerers had been weakened, and the armies of Tia Vashil had been broken on the field. Five warriors had held the gates alone against the entire horde until finally Kiera the Wilder, the only good warlock in any story, had come out of the Guild Rock, calling down even the sky to fight on her behalf. She died on the battlefield, killing the last of the Western dragons, and the Guild had raised the five defenders up, creating the Five Noble Families of Tia Vashil. The Five Noble Families chose one of their number to serve as Exarch, ruler of the city for the Guild. When the old Exarch died, they chose again, and so on and so forth for over eight hundred years.
“Are we going to the Guild Rock?” asked Pol.
“No, I thought we’d do that tomorrow, unless you’re dying to become a sorcerer,” said Kiera.
“Not particularly.”
“Well, then, I thought we’d go to my family’s house instead.”
“Where’s that?”
“Oh, just up there,” said Kiera, gesturing to the area near the Guild Rock. Pol looked at the buildings, half of which were palatial complexes, with sturdy walls and expansive grounds.
“Who are you, again?” he asked.
Kiera just smiled and spurred Blade to a quicker pace.
They stopped at one of the larger estates. A grand avenue, lined with juniper trees and a grass median to divide the traffic, led them from the street to a gatehouse, where the guards, dressed in green lacquered lamellar, their surcoats woven with a circle of dancing gold gryphons, raised their spears in salute to Kiera as she passed through the gate and headed to the manor house.
A pair of grooms were waiting to take their horses, and Pol was surprised by the insistence on which his took Brady’s reins.
“He likes apples,” he informed the boy as he dismounted.
“Yeah...they all do,” said the groom, leading Brady away.
“What about peaches?” called Pol.
“The same!” shouted the boy.
Everything in the manor was made of marble and to Pol, who used front doors infrequently, it felt brazen to stride in past the grand wooden behemoths that passed for doors in this building, more guards in the green-and-gold gryphon livery holding them open for him and Kiera. She paid no mind to the guards or the various statues and detai
led engravings of flowers and birds and fish that trimmed the walls and rode the bannisters of a grand staircase in the center of the massive hall that put Pol to gawking.
A man was marching down those stairs as they came in. He was not much more than fifty, Pol guessed, with some midnight black still lingering in his hair. His eyes were green and his skin bronze like Kiera’s, and a carefully trimmed beard framed his mouth. When he saw the woman in front of him, he smiled.
“Hello, Kiera,” he said. Kiera knelt on one knee before him, head bowed, until he pulled on her shoulders and kissed her forehead.
“Hello, father,” said Kiera.
“And who’s your companion?” asked her father.
“This is Pol Burr, of Lowvale,” said Kiera. “Pol, meet Ked vai Ullan, Exarch of Tia Vashil.”
Pol threw himself to the floor.
“It’s an honor, your majesty,” he told the nearest marble tile.
Ked laughed.
“Stand up, boy,” he said. Pol rose back to his feet, a little confused.
“I’m not, ‘your majesty,’ Pol,” Ked explained. “I’m the Exarch of Tia Vashil. I merely keep the city managed for the Guild. That doesn’t entitle me to any majesty. More the opposite, it affords me a great deal of headaches. Never bow to me. No man in Tia Vashil need scrape to any other. If there were no Five Noble Families, the entire city would be on equal ground.”
“Kiera just knelt.”
“I’m a knight, Pol, we have more formal rules regarding authority figures.”
“Oh.”
“Now, Pol Burr of Lowvale, how’d you come to be in the company of my favorite daughter?”
“Your only daughter. I was attacked in Lowvale, and Pol here rescued me.”
“More to the truth, your maj—sir, your daughter here rescued me when I was attacked.”
“So you rescued each other?”
“Close enough,” said Kiera with a shrug. “Pol was being chased and I foolishly took on a mounted knight while on foot. Pol here is a warlock. Without him, you might not have a daughter.”
“Well, I’m not sure about that,” said Pol. “I’m actually a—”
He paused, and considered the man he was talking to.
“A thief,” Kiera finished his sentence for him.
Dragon Jade Chronicle: The Warlock And The Warrior Page 12
