“You aren’t going to lose the homestead,” said Hal. “I know how we can get the money. The Harvest Tournament.”
He flashed her a conspiratorial smile. Laurel shook her head.
“I don’t even have money to hire an average mercenary,” she said. “Let alone one with enough skill to win the grand prize.”
“No,” said Hal. “That’s not what I meant. I’ll enter it.”
Laurel stared at him, frowning with concern and stony disbelief.
“Hal,” she said, carefully. “I don’t think you understand what the Harvest Tournament is.”
“It’s a competition.” Hal shrugged. “Warriors fighting, knights dueling, something like that.”
“Yeah, something like that,” said Laurel, rolling her eyes. “It’s nothing personal, Hal. But you would not make it past the first round. And there’s a good chance you wouldn’t even… make it out unharmed.”
She frowned and stepped in closer, taking Hal’s hand into her own.
“I think you’re underestimating me,” said Hal. “Besides, what other options do you have?”
Laurel’s face turned contemplative, and Hal hoped that she wasn’t letting her ideas drift back into “desperate young woman” territory. He was about to say as much, when an odd sound came from the sky above them.
“Is that… a bat?” Laurel let out a surprised squeal and threw her hands up as a black, airborne object cut through the darkness and collided with her chest. She stumbled backward, landing on her butt. Hal had his sword out in a flash, and was about to act when he heard a familiar mewling noise.
“No way,” said Hal. “Is that…?”
“Karnas,” answered Laurel. “What an amazing little creature? Did you learn to fly, little guy? Did you fly all the way here to see me?”
Karnas made a sound a bit like a turtle laughing, if such a thing were something that turtles regularly did. Hal groaned, glancing around the garden and the courtyard to confirm that no guards had overseen the baby dragon’s landing.
“Laurel,” muttered Hal. “What exactly are we supposed to do with him now?”
“We should see if we can find him some food,” said Laurel. “Here, can you put him under your shirt, so the guards don’t see him on the way back to our quarters?”
“Laurel…” said Hal. She stood up and passed Karnas over to him. The baby dragon was a little larger than Hal remembered him being, and gave its wings a small flap, trying to pull free from his arms.
“Quick!” said Laurel. “Here comes a guard!”
Karnas didn’t like being under Hal’s shirt, and by the time the two of them made it back to their guest lodge, he had about a dozen scratches across his stomach to prove it. Yua had already retired for the night, but she’d left dinner out for them, and Laurel brought hers along with Karnas back to her room for privacy.
“He won’t eat any of the seasoned meat,” she said, as Karnas refused a bite of the main course. “I’ll see if I can find some fresh meat for him in the market, tomorrow.”
“Do you really think you can pull off keeping a baby dragon in your room?” asked Hal. “What if the Maxim finds out about this? Would Yua tell him, if she found out?”
“Hal,” said Laurel. “We don’t really have much choice. I can’t leave the city unannounced, and even if I did, we’re about to lose the homestead.”
“Speaking of which,” said Hal. “I’m going to enter the Harvest Tournament. You might not have faith in me, but all of the training I’ve done with Cadrian has readied me for something like this.”
Laurel sighed.
“Please,” she said. “Just… don’t get yourself killed.”
She walked over to him and pulled him into a tight hug. Hal was surprised by how strongly he suddenly felt the urge to hug her back, and he did. The embrace went on for a while, with neither of them wanting to be the first to let go.
“I should get to bed,” whispered Laurel.
“Yeah,” said Hal.
“And so should you,” said Laurel.
“Yeah,” said Hal.
He stared at her for a couple more seconds, her eyes meeting his. Somehow, their fates had become intertwined, and strangely, that realization left Hal with strength and hope, as much as vulnerability. Laurel set her hands on his chest, and he finally found the will to turn away from her and head back to his own room.
CHAPTER 14
The next morning, Hal walked out into the guest lodge’s sitting room and discovered Yua playing with Karnas. He stared at the sight in disbelief, only noticing the clever action Laurel had taken to hide the baby dragon’s true nature.
She’d made a small, dragon sized shirt for Karnas, which when worn, forced the tiny creature to keep his wings folded into his body. The effect led to Karnas looking like some kind of unusually lively lizard. Yua was using a finger to pet his snout, commenting on how she thought a pet would be the perfect thing to raise Laurel’s mood.
I don’t disagree with that at all, actually.
They ate a quick breakfast of fruit bread and bacon, and then headed out, leaving Karnas in Yua’s care for the day. Hal was a little skeptical of the arrangement, but he couldn’t decide if it was because of his fear that Yua might take the shirt off the dragon, or that Karnas might do something outrageous.
“Come on,” said Laurel. “I’d like to find some fresh meat for him. And I also need to pick up a few things for myself. And on the way, I can show you where the signups for the tournament are.”
Laurel wore a loose yellow dress that looked slightly too thin for the season’s cooling temperatures. She hadn’t bothered to do anything to hide the visibility of her scar that morning, and Hal was strangely glad of it. She was still Laurel, still a practical, capable young woman, regardless of the pressures having returned to court were placing on her.
Meldence was alive with activity. The market ward was only a short walk from the castle, and true to what Hal had heard about the city, there were merchants selling a wide variety of goods. Food vendors called out to him and Laurel as they went by. A scarf merchant shouted about the autumn’s chill and the oncoming winter, encouraging Hal to “purchase a neck scarf for his fair lady.”
Children ran about the area in groups, throwing balls or playing with sticks. A group of nobles shared early morning drinks on top of a building’s roof, laughing and gesturing to one another boisterously.
What struck Hal the most was how integrated and communal the city seemed. The streets were a place of activity and interaction, and it was different from how things had been back in the Collected Provinces. The only time he could remember seeing such liveliness was during a fair, or another holiday.
Which, to be fair, is about what this Harvest Tournament sounds like…
“Hal?” Laurel grabbed his arm, and he realized he’d stopped walking in the middle of the street. “Come on. Don’t tell me that Meldence is overwhelming you?”
“Not exactly,” he said.
She led him through the market ward, and then through a gate that led outside the city’s main wall. A massive tent had been set up just outside the city gate, to the west, and Hal could see a number of armored or otherwise martial looking men walking along the same path he was.
“I’ll come find you once I’ve finished shopping,” said Laurel. “Just hang out around the tent if you have extra time after you’ve signed up.”
“Sure,” said Hal. He waved to Laurel as she headed back into the city, and then made his way toward the tent.
The tent was large, and made of a patchwork of colored leather. Next to it stood a large sand circle that Hal assumed would be the actual arena. Workers were already setting up wooden stands, from which the audience could watch.
A skylight in the center provided illumination for the inside of the tent. Several dozen competitors mingled around the small stand where a man with quill and ledger sat taking down names. The tent held an air of excitement and anticipation as the hopeful combatants waite
d their turn, chatting and sizing each other up.
Hal felt instantly out of place. His build was average, but when compared to most of the other men there, he was at least a head shorter and fifty pounds lighter than any of them.
Some were dressed in full suits of armor, as though the metal’s weight was no more oppressive to them than regular clothing. Others carried gigantic weapons, great swords and war hammers that could kill a man with a single, casual blow.
There were other, less familiar weapons, too. A tall man with scars tracing his entire face carried a long chain with a spiked ball attached to the end of it that Hal couldn’t even imagine how a person would counter an attack with that weapon. Another man had duel curved swords, and was warming up with them, away from the crowd, in a complicated dance of flashing metal.
Hal fidgeted nervously as he waited near the back of the line. He’d been expecting something more like the dueling tournaments back in the Collected Provinces, where most of the young gentry would enter to prove their skills against fellow likeminded peers. It had been a fun, casual affair, with a very different vibe than what Hal was picking up from within the tent.
A sign stood next to the man with the ledger. Hal squinted to make out the words scrawled across it in garish red ink.
Fights continue until one participant leaves the circle or surrenders. No attacks shall strike anyone other than the current active participants, on penalty of death. Each fight will begin with a minute-long entertainment period for the crowd, in which each fighter allows their opponent grace.
Hal scratched his head. He glanced around, wondering if any of the other participants cared all that much about the tournament’s rules. He felt something poke him in the side, and he almost tripped as he flinched away, hand going to his pistol.
“Somebody’s tense,” said Zoria, pulling back the hood of her cloak slightly so Hal could see her face.
“Oh, it’s just you.” He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “What are you doing here?”
Zoria shrugged and stepped in closer to him.
“I heard about the prize money,” she said. “Not that I care for staying on the surface for longer than I need to, but I could put it to good use while I am stuck here. Unfortunately, without my runic armor and wings, I doubt I’d be able to make it far, even up against foolish cattle.”
She licked her lips, giving Hal an appraising look.
“I was planning on entering,” he said, knowing that she’d already likely assumed as much. Zoria burst out into laughter, shaking her head and setting a hand on his shoulder.
“Oh wow,” she said. “You are confident, master. I will grant you that.”
Hal scowled at her.
“Laurel’s losing the homestead,” he said. “It’s the only way for us to get the money to bid on it. I’m doing this, regardless of whether or not I stand a chance.”
Zoria’s face hardened as she realized her was serious.
“I would advise very strongly against it,” she said. “You’re liable to get yourself killed in a competition like this.”
“I don’t have a choice,” said Hal. “And why is everyone assuming that I won’t stand a chance?”
Another competitor pushed by Halrin, a man who must have been at least seven feet tall. The force of the relatively minor push almost knocked him off his feet, and the man also carried a spear that was longer than he was tall.
“Be reasonable, master,” said Zoria. “There are other ways for you to earn the money. Have you considered stealing it?”
“You don’t have a conscience, do you?” asked Hal.
Zoria smirked at him and brought herself in closer. She set a hand on his chest and held his gaze, slowly licking her lips.
“If you’re set on entering the tournament, at least be smart about it,” said Zoria. “Find yourself a… training partner. Someone that understands your… particular training needs.”
“Someone like you?” asked Hal. “And I’m assuming you’d want something in return.”
“Just a small favor,” said Zoria. “What choice do you have? You’ll need your heartgem to be as full as you can get it to stand any chance at all.”
Hal was ready to refuse her, even as Zoria pressed herself even closer, her breasts gliding across his shoulder through her cloak. He tamped down his excitement and started to shake his head.
“It’s a good idea.” Laurel’s voice came from behind him, and Hal flinched, annoyed at how the women in his life seemed to enjoy surprising him.
“It… is?” he said, skeptically.
“It is,” said Laurel. “You’ll need your magic for this, Hal. And… I don’t see any other way around it. It could mean the difference between you winning a fight, and…”
And exploring the limits of the rules I read on that creepy sign…
“Then we’re all in agreement,” said Zoria. “You should thank your woman for having such good sense, master.”
Hal and Laurel both glared at Zoria, who seemed to bask in the negative attention.
CHAPTER 15
Hal got his name onto the sign-up ledger and then joined Laurel and Zoria outside the tent. They were silent in each other’s presence, and he wasn’t sure if it was a good sign or a horrible one.
“Alright,” said Hal. “My first fight is tomorrow morning. What should we do in the meantime?”
“Maxim Cedric is holding a ball in honor of the tournament tonight,” said Laurel. “I’ll need to spend the next few hours with Yua getting prepared for it.”
“That’s perfect,” said Zoria. “As I’ll be needing the Heart Holder’s company for a while.”
Hal winced, expecting Laurel to react badly to having her “bodyguard” stolen from her for the day. Instead, Laurel just shrugged.
“Sure,” she said. “Hal, if you’re planning on fighting at your best tomorrow, make sure your heartgem is full before coming back to the guest lodge. We’ll be at the ball for most of the night.”
“Uh…” Hal scratched his head. “Alright.”
Laurel split off to do her own thing as soon as they were back within the walls of Meldence. Zoria took Hal by the hand and began leading him down the center of the street. She didn’t seem to mind the looks the nobles gave her, dressed in her ragged cloak, walking on their reserved lane.
“Where are we going, exactly?” asked Hal.
“To the steams,” said Zoria.
Hal didn’t bother asking why, knowing that she’d only tell him when she felt like it. The building she led him to was a large, wooden structure on the west side of Meldence, built against the city’s wall.
She brought him inside, and a man behind a small bar greeted them warmly. She paid him with several coins, which Hal assumed came from her banditry spoils, and then led him down a hallway.
Humid heat emanated from each of the current doorways they passed. Zoria pulled him into the one at the end of the hall. The room was a simple bathing chamber with three wooden tubs and a prefilled stone basin. A brazier full of hot coals, along with a small metal scoop, stood next to the basin. Zoria used the scoop to lift a few of the coals and dropped them into the stone basin, releasing a more steam into the already foggy air.
“Am I here to be your bath attendant?” asked Hal.
“Would that please you, cattle?” asked Zoria. “You are supposed to be my master, remember. Shouldn’t I be the one tending to your needs, first?”
She pulled her cloak off, along with the tight leggings and black shirt she wore underneath it. Zoria’s naked body was an impressive combination of curves and muscle, and she ran her hand through her dark brown hair as she turned to face him. Hal’s eyes were instantly drawn to her perky breasts, and then to her hips, which swayed back and forth as she walked toward him.
Tattoos ran across Zoria’s arms, shoulders, and back, each one an intricate mixture of elven lettering and strange, geometrical patterns. If anything, they only added to her allure, especially given th
at Hal knew that they had something to do with her runic magic.
She’s dangerous. I need to keep that in mind, now and always.
“Well, master?” asked Zoria. “Are you going to have me undress you, or can you do that yourself?”
Hal grinned, and started pulling off his clothing. He was already sweaty by the time he was naked, leaving only his heartgem hanging from his neck. He pulled Zoria against him and kissed her deeply, feeling a sudden rush of excitement as their bodies began to speak a silent, primal language.
“I see you’ve missed me,” whispered Zoria.
“Why don’t I show you just how much?” offered Hal.
Zoria rubbed her body against his, slowly drawing his cock into a full state of arousal. Hal felt aggressive, and he gave her buttocks a hard grope before lifting her in the air and grinding his hardness against her tight, hot lane. Zoria moaned, wrapping her legs around him, but being cautious about how she let his shaft move against her.
“Oh, master,” she whispered.
He pushed his cock upward, feeling her warm, wetness as he managed to get the head of his erection inside. Elven physiology was slightly different from humans, and Hal felt like he was trying to slide a sword into a sheathe a few sizes too small.
They both let out small gasps as Hal went deeper, pulling Zoria’s tiny form against him and trying to resist the urge to go wild. She was smaller in his arms than she seemed in person, and it would be so easy for him to use her any way he wanted.
“Master,” breathed Zoria, her lips teasing one of his earlobes. “Don’t be shy…”
Hal squeezed her butt and gave her body a firm, slightly punishing downward pull. Zoria exhaled sharply and shivered against him. Slowly, he began to move, thrusting upward into her as she began to more willingly accept him.
He spun, pushing Zoria against the bath chamber’s stone wall. He pinned her there, thrusting forward while groping at her breasts. Zoria could do little more than moan at the onslaught, and he felt her kissing him back hungrily as their lips met.
Harvest Tournament (Sexcraft Chronicles Book 2) Page 8
