Harvest Tournament (Sexcraft Chronicles Book 2)

by Edmund Hughes

  The heartgem pulsed with ruby red energy, almost in time with their horny exertions. Hal let his movements accelerate, enjoying the sensation of her petite elven body, sweat beading both their bodies as they joined together in lustful, passionate ecstasy.

  Neither of them lasted long. Zoria’s body seized up, and she bit his lip as she broke from their kiss, overwhelmed by the pleasure of her orgasm. Hal pumped his shaft into her a few more times and then cradled her head against his shoulder as he unloaded inside of her.

  “That was nice,” whispered Zoria. “Such a forceful master I have…”

  “When are you going to stop calling me that?” asked Hal.

  “When I feel like it,” she said. “Until then, you should take advantage of me, however and whenever you please.”

  CHAPTER 16

  Hal took a quick rinse in one of the wash tubs and collected his clothes. It wasn’t until he was in the process of pulling his pants on that Zoria motioned for him to hold a moment.

  “We didn’t just come here for fun,” she said. “It’s as I told you before. I need a favor from you.”

  Hal shrugged.

  “Alright,” he said. “What is it?”

  Still naked, Zoria fished a small leather bag out of her cloak. She handed it to Hal and gestured for him to open it.

  “It’s salve made from crystal salts,” she said. “I want you to rub it on my tattoos.”

  Hal raised an eyebrow.

  “Why, exactly?” he asked. “Not that it’s a difficult favor for me to fulfill. Just curious.”

  Zoria smiled at him.

  “The magic that allows me to conjure my runic weapons and armor comes from my crystal dust tattoos,” she said. “When Aangavar shattered my armor and wings in our first battle, it exhausted the magical energy left in them.”

  “Ah,” said Hal. “And this will put that magic back into them?”

  “No,” said Zoria. “This will cleanse the tattoos from my body. It’s the first half of your favor to me. The second half will be redoing the tattoos exactly as they were originally.”

  Hal frowned and shook his head.

  “I’m not an artist, Zoria,” he said. “I don’t think I can pull that off.”

  “You’ll only need to trace them onto my skin from drawings I can provide you,” she said. “It will not be difficult, master. The difficult part was gathering the needed crystals for the process, which I’ve already managed.”

  She turned so her back was facing him, and Hal got a closer look at the intricate designs of her tattoos. They were complicated, all done in black ink, with interlocking patterns and small bits of elven calligraphy mixed in. Even if he had a drawing to trace from, it will still be a long process to restore the tattoos as they were originally.

  Laurel’s right, though. I’ll need her help to stand a chance in the tournament.

  “Just rub it onto my back and shoulders,” said Zoria. “Leave the ones from my elbow to my wrists. Those are for conjuring my spear, and still work as intended.”

  “Got it,” said Hal. “Hold still.”

  He scooped some of the salve out with his fingers. It tingled where it touched his skin, and had a sharp, minty sent. Hal rubbed a glob onto Zoria’s shoulder, and she immediately tensed with pain.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “It’s… a bit painful,” she said, through gritted teeth. “I… can take it. Keep going, master.”

  The part of her tattoo underneath where he’d rubbed the salve was disintegrating, and a thin trail of dark violet smoke rose into the air from her skin. Hal winced as he smeared on another globe and saw Zoria’s muscles spasm from the pain.

  “Are you sure you can handle this?” he asked.

  “Pathetic… surfacer…” muttered Zoria. “I am an honored valkyrie. Pain is nothing.”

  Hal went slow, pushing past his sympathy as he saw how much pain the process was putting her through. He ran his hands across her back and shoulders, and then along her upper arms. Parts of her skin needed more than one application of the salve, and he had to massage it in deep when he applied it to the section that ran along the skin over her spine.

  She was nearly unconscious from the pain by the time Hal finished. The skin where the tattoos had been was puffy, pink and swollen, but free of any residual ink. Hal wiped his hands clean of the salve and gently picked Zoria up, carrying over to one of the wooden tubs and lowering her into it.

  “It’s done,” he said. Zoria’s eyes flicked open, and she shivered in pain.

  “Master…” she said, in a weary voice. “Thank you.”

  “Let’s hope you don’t ever need to have these removed again,” said Hal. “For your sake, and for mine.”

  He let her rest for a while, and the two of them dressed and left the steams. Zoria bought food for them as they walked through the streets, meat and vegetables served on a long wooden skewer.

  It was midafternoon by the time Hal and Zoria arrived back at Laurel’s guest lodge. Laurel was in the sitting room, engaging in quiet conversation with Yua. Karnas sat on her lap, pushing his head against her whenever he felt like he deserved a pet. Zoria entered the room behind Hal, and went completely still when her eyes settled onto the baby dragon.

  “That’s…” she said, raising a finger to point.

  “A desert lizard,” said Hal, quickly. “Laurel purchased it from a trader shortly after we entered the city.”

  Zoria smiled and slowly licked her lips.

  “Master, you are either completely mad, or a tactical genius,” she said. “Only time will tell.”

  Yua looked especially confused by the exchange, but Hal wasn’t sure if he understood exactly what Zoria meant, either.

  “How did your errand go?” asked Laurel.

  Hal shrugged.

  “Well enough,” he said.

  “Yua set out some clothes for you in your room,” said Laurel. “You won’t have to do much, tonight. Just drop me off at the ball and then wait with the other servants.”

  Hal scowled.

  “The other servants?” he asked.

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” she said. “Relax. All that I meant was that… you’ll have the easier time of things.”

  She took a slow breath, and it was only then that Hal picked up on how nervous she looked. Yua whispered something to her, and the two women stood up and relocated to Laurel’s room, to begin her preparations.

  Hal looked over at Zoria, who’d sat down next to Karnas and was reaching out a tentative hand to pet his snout. The dragon was still until her fingers came within reach, and then instantly snapped out, nicking her index finger with enough force to draw blood.

  “Ow!” cried Zoria. “Bitch’s blood! Dangerous from the start, apparently.”

  “He’s a cantankerous little bastard,” said Hal. “Don’t take it personally.”

  “I won’t,” said Zoria. “I just hope he doesn’t either. Has he said anything to you yet?”

  Hal frowned. He’d been so caught up in the idea of Karnas being Laurel’s pet baby dragon that he’d almost forgotten what he would eventually grow up into. Aangavar, Karnas’s father, had been an intelligent, speech-capable being who had held Fool’s Valley captive for decades.

  “Not yet,” said Hal. “And hopefully not for a time longer. I expect the situation to get a little complicated, when he gets to that point.”

  “But you do complicated so well.” Zoria smiled wickedly at him.

  “Will you be alright on your own, tonight?” asked Hal.

  Zoria furrowed her brow.

  “I’m not going to stay here, if that’s what you were expecting,” she said. “I just came back here with you so that I know where to find you. I’ll be heading off on my own as soon as it’s dark.”

  “To do what?” asked Hal.

  Zoria was still smiling. “Do you really want to know, master?”

  Not when she puts it like that, I don’t.

  CHAPTER 17


  Hal changed into his own clothing, which consisted of a pair of black trousers and a gold, heavily embroidered shirt. The outfit felt ridiculous on him, especially with the addition of his sword and gun, but he reminded himself that it was for Laurel and tried to hide his displeasure.

  Zoria was already gone when he returned to the sitting room. He waited with Karnas until Laurel finally emerged from her room, dressed in a tight, blue gown, her hair worn loose across her shoulders.

  It was a simple look for her, but a good one. Hal found himself staring at her, and was a little horrified to see the effect it had on her. Laurel blushed, her hand instantly shooting up to cover her scar.

  “I look ridiculous, don’t I?” she asked him. “I should just give up even trying at this point.”

  “You do not look ridiculous.” Hal stood up and hurried over to her, taking her hands into his. “You look beautiful, Laurel. You look like you’ve stepped out of a legend, a beautiful maiden with mysterious past.”

  “Nobody’s going to see me like that,” said Laurel. “The scar is all they’re going to see.”

  Hal shrugged.

  “Is that such a bad thing?” he said. “You took it in a fight against a dragon, and later reclaimed your valley from it. It doesn’t ruin you, Laurel. It adds to who you are.”

  Her eyes lit up momentarily at his words, as though she wanted to believe him, but couldn’t quite manage it. Yua came up behind her and set a hand on her back.

  “Listen to him, Lady Laurel,” said Yua. “People will see the scar whether you want them to or not. Turn it into an advantage and you’ll never be weaker for it.”

  Laurel nodded, but it was clear from the way her shoulders slumped that she hadn’t reached a stage of true acceptance yet.

  “I just want to get tonight over with,” she said, softly.

  Hal walked her out of the guest lodge and across the castle’s courtyard. He thought that he was taking her into the castle, but Laurel gestured for him to continue past its doors when they reached it. The ballroom was in the residence of the royal palace.

  A guard waved them through the open doors. There was a grand foyer, where other nobles were presenting themselves. Soft music came from the ballroom ahead of them and Hal glimpsed smooth tile floors, a feasting table, and a large dance floor, already filling with graceful couples.

  Reminds me of the parties my father used to throw.

  Laurel reached over and gave his hand a quick squeeze.

  “You’ll be waiting through that door, over there,” she said, pointing to small off chamber where a dozen other servants and bodyguards were already mingling.

  “Got it,” said Hal. “Should I check in on you, at some point? Make sure things are going alright?”

  Laurel shook her head. She looked out of her element, like a tightly wound bundle of nerves.

  “I’ll… be fine,” she said, forcing a smile. “Thanks for offering, though.”

  “Lady Laurel!” came a shrill, feminine voice. “Laurel Ancina! How are you?”

  A group of noblewomen had just entered the foyer, all of them dressed in expensive dresses and jewelry, faces painted to the point of buffoonery. Hal instantly didn’t like them, though it may have been in part due to the way he felt Laurel tense at their appearance.

  “Lady Athia,” said Laurel. “It’s… good to see you.”

  The noblewoman at the front of the group, presumably Lady Athia, had dark blonde hair and a stunning figure. The smile she gave Laurel had an edge of a sneer to it and it took all of Hal’s willpower to keep up his role as a bodyguard.

  “Oh, by the Five!” exclaimed Lady Athia. “I’d heard that it was hard living for you, out in Fool’s Valley, but I had no idea! Did the dragon do that to you?”

  There were snickers from the other women in the group. Hal gritted his teeth and forced himself to take slow breaths.

  “It’s alright,” said Laurel. “I’m just glad that I escaped with my life.”

  “Oh, but of course,” said Lady Athia. “And I’m sure there’s a lord out there who wouldn’t mind having you still. A scar on your face, well, that’s the type of homeliness that ceases to matter once the candles are out.”

  More laughter from the other women. Laurel’s face turned bright red. Hal watched as she started to bring a hand up, as though to cover her scar, and then stopped herself.

  “I… It’s not something that I’m…” Laure winced, struggling to get her words out. “I mean, I think I’ll manage just fine. It doesn’t affect me much in day to day life.”

  “Oh, I’m sure it hasn’t,” said Lady Athia. “I imagine everyone has a face lump or two, or a few missing teeth out in your backwoods homestead. That’s just the way of country folk. But now that you’re back in the capital… Well, I’m just so glad that you’re still soldiering on!”

  Lady Athia nodded to her, and then she and her entourage disappeared into the ballroom. Hal tried to keep his anger in check as he watched the women go.

  “Don’t listen to them, Laurel,” he said. “They’re petty and superficial. There were women like that back in the Collected Provinces, and they were all a waste of air.”

  “…It’s always been this way,” whispered Laurel. “There were rumors about me even before this. I’m used to it by now. It’s just how things work in court. Everyone has a place on the social ladder, and mine, well…”

  She smiled at him and looked like she was holding back tears. Hal stepped forward to pull her into a hug, but she held up a hand to stop him.

  “Not here,” she said. “You’re… my bodyguard.”

  “Right,” said Hal. He frowned, wanting to ask her if she’d be okay, but fearing that the question might undermine what little confidence she was in the process of rallying.

  “I should head on in,” said Laurel. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be okay.”

  “Alright,” said Hal. “I’ll be waiting for you out here, I guess.”

  Laurel nodded to him, and then walked into the ballroom, looking more like a woman on her way to the gallows than one heading into a party. Hal watched for a few moments longer as she lingered near one of the drink tables, awkwardly glancing around at the different groups of young nobles, unsure of where to seek social safety.

  This is painful to watch. I wish there was something I could do.

  “Out of the way, peasant.” An elbow accompanied the words as Lord Teymus pushed Hal to the side on his way toward the ballroom. Hal reacted on instinct, seizing the man’s arm and shoulder and twisting into one of the pressure locks Cadrian had taught him.

  “Ow, ow!” cried Lord Teymus. “You little…”

  His eyes flickered with recognition as they met Hal’s. Hal let him go, smiling and giving an unconcerned shrug. He expected Lord Teymus to hurry into the ballroom, or perhaps try to make a fuss over the incident, but he didn’t do either.

  “You’re Lady Laurel’s ‘bodyguard’, aren’t you?” asked Lord Teymus.

  “Yeah,” said Hal. “And you’re the noble who seems intent on stealing everything she has.”

  Hal briefly considered whether it was wise for him to speak so openly, and moreover, rudely, to a noble with the Maxim’s favor. But he didn’t need to be concerned, Lord Teymus seemed to thrive on the friction, grinning at Hal and lifting his eyebrows.

  “That’s exactly what I intend,” said Lord Teymus. “The two of you seem close. I wonder, are you just around for protection, or do you tend to some of Lady Laurel’s… other needs?”

  Hal gritted his teeth, finding the restraint to keep from punching the smug man in the face.

  “Well, that’s one duty you needn’t worry about performing tonight,” said Lord Teymus. “You may as well head back to your chambers early. Lady Laurel will be heading home with me.”

  “What do you even care about her for?” asked Hal, his anger boiling over. “She isn’t rich. She’s not well connected in court. She doesn’t seem like she’d be your type.”

  He le
t his tone drip with acid, almost daring Lord Teymus to do something to escalate the situation and make a scene. Instead, the young noble leaned in closer to Hal, still smirking as though he was telling a bawdy joke.

  “She isn’t my type,” said Lord Teymus. “You misunderstand. I am her type. And once she finally acknowledges that, I’ll toss her aside.”

  Hal glared at Lord Teymus. The nobleman cleared his throat, gestured to the servants following him, and then hurried into the ballroom as though the conversation had never happened. Hal watched as Lord Teymus joined Laurel by the drink table, standing a little closer to her than was appropriate.

  He considered for a moment whether he could make an accurate Flame Shot from that distance before mastering his anger and walking off to join the other servants in the waiting chamber.

  CHAPTER 18

  The servant’s waiting chamber was a small room connected to the foyer and one of the kitchens. It was filled with more merriment than Hal had been expecting, with all of the waiting servants and bodyguards having a small party of their own, complete with food and drink.

  “Haven’t seen you around before,” said a gruff looking man. “Who is your master?”

  Hal winced at the question.

  “Uh, Lady Laurel,” he said, after a moment’s hesitation. “We just arrived in Meldence a few days ago.”

  “Ah, I remember her,” said the gruff man. “She’s one of the good ones. Treats most of us servants with respect.”

  He passed the bottle he held in his hand. Hal gave it a skeptical look before taking a swig. It was a strong, cinnamon liquor that left him coughing, much to the amusement of the others nearby.

  “My name is Gangor,” said the gruff man.

  “Halrin,” said Hal.

  “You showed up in town at a good time, Halrin,” said Gangor. “The Harvest Tournament is the most interesting thing that happens in Meldence all season.”

  “Don’t lie to the boy, Gang,” said another man, who stepped in to join their conversation. “We all know what’s been happening at night. It ain’t even close to a good time to be in this forsaken excuse for a city.”