Kingdom of Storms

by Jasmine Walt

The animals whinnied, and Riann stroked a soothing hand over the side of his horse’s neck, feeling the animal’s fear. “There is something not right about this place,” he said.

  They dismounted, leaving the horses tied up in the village square, and investigated on foot. As Riann suspected, there was no one inside the houses—but these places did not look as though the inhabitants had packed up and fled. There was still furniture and toys in many of them, and they gagged more than once at the stench of rotting food from abandoned larders.

  “This must be one of the villages struck by the plague,” Calrain said. His eyes were wide with trepidation, and Riann could not blame him—this entire village was eerie, and he would not be surprised to learn that it was haunted.

  “How terrible,” Tariel said, and Riann could feel her sadness through the bond. For the past ten years, random towns and villages across Fjordland had been struck by plagues. Very few survived the fevers and bloody coughing fits, and most succumbed within three days. Most villages were usually razed and rebuilt after an outbreak, but for some reason, this one had been left intact.

  But their inspection of the village found no bodies. This village had already been cleared out, and had stood empty for quite some time now.

  “Zolotais,” Tariel said, summoning the desert spirit from her abacus. She explained the situation, and the spirit listened quietly. “What do you think? Is it safe to stay here?”

  “Your mage blood protects you from most sickness,” Zolotais responded, “and by extension, your harem.”

  “Really?” Calrain asked, his eyes wide with surprise. Riann was taken aback as well—he had not expected this. “Will we live longer, too?”

  “Yes,” Zolotais said, “so long as you make love on a regular basis. Tariel’s powers require frequent couplings to recharge, and when her powers wane, so do the benefits you both reap.”

  “Well, I suppose it’s not too great a sacrifice to make,” Riann said, grinning at Tariel. Calrain chuckled, and Tariel shook her head at both of them, laughing.

  “I actually think staying here is a good idea,” Calrain said. “Jerrold and his men are likely to give any place struck by the plague a wide berth, and if we are in no danger of being infected, there is no reason we should not make use of the facilities.” He pointed to a large barn. “We can stable the horses there for the night, and sleep nearby.”

  The three of them made for the spacious barn, which had an upstairs loft where they could sleep comfortably. Riann didn’t unsaddle the horses in case they needed a quick getaway, but he took off their bridles so they could enjoy the stale but edible oats unencumbered. Once the horses were all settled, they climbed to the loft and made themselves comfortable, then discussed what to do next while Zolotais kept watch outside.

  “I set aside enough money to last us a few weeks,” Riann said as he lay on his side, looking at Tariel. She lay on her back between them, her lovely dark hair fanned out beneath her on her bedroll. It took Riann quite an effort not to reach for her, to keep his mind on the conversation when he wanted to trace the line of her generously curved hip that was so close to his. “However, the capital is said to be three times more expensive than the average city, so we will have to take extra pains to be frugal, and not stay longer than necessary.”

  “Perhaps we could find work in the city, and save up a bit more for our journey to the Empire,” Calrain suggested. “I’m sure there is no better place for a sword for hire to look for work than in the capital, and I could find a job as a clerk somewhere, I am certain. Tariel is fairly skilled with stillroom work—you could find work in an apothecary somewhere, no?”

  “I could,” Tariel said, “but we will have to be very careful. If we split up and work in three different places, I will not be able to use my magic to disguise you. For safety’s sake, it would be best to stick together if possible.”

  “We are quite distinctive in appearance,” Riann admitted. “But surely we can disguise ourselves without magic. I am not so recognizable without my armor, and if Calrain and I dyed our hair…”

  Calrain’s gaze turned thoughtful. “We could manage that. It would be nice not to be a redhead, for once.”

  Tariel turned on her side and slid a hand through Calrain’s shaggy mop. “I love your hair just the way it is.”

  Riann heard the smile in her voice. He hid a smirk as Calrain blushed—he was still so shy and innocent, even after the positively scandalous night the three of them had shared. It had taken Riann a bit of effort to get over sharing Tariel with another male at the same time, but she had given them equal attention, and he had not felt neglected even when she’d turned her gaze to Calrain. His blood surged as he remembered the two of them together, Tariel’s lush body arching, her face flushed with pleasure. She was truly a joy to watch, though of course it had been even better when she was underneath him.

  His cock hardened at the phantom sensation of her naked curves pressed against his bare flesh, and he reached for her without thinking. Tariel gasped as he pulled her flush against him, pressing his bulge against her deliciously round bottom. She wriggled against him a bit, then let out a moan when he brushed her hair aside and nibbled at her exposed neck.

  “I thought we were discussing logistics?” Calrain asked, raising an eyebrow. But his silver eyes lit with hunger as he watched Riann push Tariel’s skirt up, exposing her long, silky legs.

  “That can wait,” Riann growled into Tariel’s neck as his hand delved deeper. She moaned again as he slid his fingers between her thighs, and his cock grew even harder when he encountered her damp folds. She was already wet for him…

  “Zolotais did say we needed to make love regularly to keep up my strength,” Tariel said breathlessly. She pressed Riann’s hand more firmly between her legs, showing him exactly where she wanted to be touched. Riann was more than happy to oblige, and he quickly found the sweet spot that had made her moan so beautifully yesterday.

  “Mmph,” she moaned, but the sound was muffled by Calrain’s lips on hers. Tariel had pulled him to her, and the two of them were locked in a passionate kiss. Somehow, Calrain managed to get her dress the rest of the way off, and he trailed kisses down Tariel’s front, toward her lush breasts.

  I want a taste of those, Riann thought. He briefly considered rolling Tariel away from Calrain, but he wasn’t about to be an arse. Instead, he ran kisses up her neck, then bit down on her earlobe as he pressed more firmly against her sweet spot.

  “Riann!” Never had his name sounded sweeter as it flew from Tariel’s lips. Her sultry voice echoed in the loft as she came, her juices gushing onto his fingers. Riann growled as he slid two of them inside her entrance, and her shocked cry made him grin. He pumped them in and out of her, and she strained against his hand, trying to take him deeper than he could go.

  “More,” she demanded, and Riann was more than happy to oblige. He unfastened his trousers and slid into her from behind in one smooth motion.

  “Gods,” he groaned as her wet warmth surrounded him. She felt incredible, better than any other woman he’d had before. She clawed at his leg with her hand, urging him deeper inside her, and he obliged, powerless to resist the wild passion within her. He buried himself within her over and over, pushing them both closer to climax with each thrust.

  As he made love to Tariel, he watched over her shoulder as she pushed Calrain’s tunic leggings down just enough to free him. Her small hand closed around his cock, and though part of Riann instinctively wanted to look away, he was captivated as he watched her stroke the other man. He imagined it was his own, and that only made him burn hotter for her.

  The three of them made love together, and when they were finished, they curled up together on the bedrolls, spent and utterly sated. As Riann stared at the rafters, his left arm around Tariel’s shoulders, Calrain curled an arm around her abdomen, cuddling her from behind.

  It should seem strange, the three of them sleeping together like this. But it was the most natural thing in the wo
rld, and Riann was growing used to Calrain. He might not be a warrior, but he was quick on his feet and quite a good actor. Riann’s respect for him continued to grow.

  Though they meant to continue their discussion from earlier, the three of them slipped into an exhausted sleep. Riann did not know how long they slept, but when he opened his eyes again, night had fallen. It was pitch dark inside the barn.

  “Mmm,” Tariel said groggily as he nudged her awake. She curled her naked body around him like a cat, snuggling against his chest. “A few more minutes.”

  “You don’t have to move.” He kissed the top of her head. “I just need to borrow your light so I can feed the horses.”

  Tariel’s eyes opened, her blue irises shining in the darkness. “It’s pitch dark,” she said with some surprise, sitting up. With a wave of her hand, she conjured another light. The soft ball of white energy illuminated her naked torso, and Riann’s mouth watered at the sight of her breasts. His fingers twitched as he resisted the urge to take one of the round globes in his hands, and he instead pulled on his trousers and climbed down the ladder.

  By the time he was halfway through feeding them, Calrain and Tariel had joined them. “Are we to move on then?” Tariel asked, stroking one of the midnight war steeds. They were down to three horses—the rest they had freed one by one during the journey, since they were far enough away that Lord Sowell would not easily find them.

  Riann shook his head. “I’ve been thinking,” he said, pouring oats into the second feed trough, “that it might be best to lie low here for a few days. We can conserve our strength and wait for the witch hunters to lose our trail before we continue on to the capital.”

  “Like a fox going to ground,” Tariel said thoughtfully.

  Riann smiled. “Exactly.”

  “I think that we should continue on our journey, and try to get as much distance between us and Sir Jerrold as possible,” Calrain said, a troubled frown on his face. “Sir Jerrold is like a bloodhound—he can sniff out even the faintest of scents, and he never fails to chase down his quarry. He will find us here.”

  Riann and Tariel exchanged wary glances. “I don’t see how he could trace us here,” Tariel said. “He will not be looking for us in an abandoned village. I don’t even know how anyone could find this place without stumbling about by accident.”

  “Rushing will only endanger us,” Riann reminded Calrain. “Sir Jerrold will be on the lookout for a fleeing party of three, and if we are on the road while he is sniffing about, that will only make it easier for him to chase us down. Better to hunker down here and wait a few days for our trail to go cold.”

  “If you say so,” Calrain said, though he looked dubious. As he turned away to get a fire going to cook dinner, Riann felt a twinge of doubt. Could Calrain be right? Were they making a mistake?

  Don’t be foolish, Riann thought. He wasn’t the type to discount another’s comments out of hand, but Riann had more experience with this sort of thing—during his knight training, he’d taken it upon himself to learn how to track, and he knew how their opponent would think. They only needed to stay hidden for a few days, and then they could make their way to the capital, and hopefully find a way to the Empire from there.

  18

  The first day Tariel and her men spent in the abandoned village was fraught with tension. Calrain was jumpy, jerking at every flickering shadow. Once, he went for his dagger when they heard something scampering around the corner from them, but it had turned out to be only a cat. Riann had teased him mercilessly for that, but Tariel hadn’t blamed him for his paranoia. After her encounter with Sir Jerrold, she did not want to be caught unawares should he come upon their camp.

  But Riann’s hunch proved correct. For two days, they lived in the village undisturbed. Gradually, the three of them relaxed. It was nice to enjoy each other’s company openly, without fear of discovery, and Tariel was pleased to see Riann and Calrain growing closer to each other. If the three of them were to be bound to each other for life, she wanted her men to be fast friends.

  Tariel spent her free time practicing her magic, while Zolotais instructed the men on the basics of the Maroyan language. Tariel focused on honing skills she’d tried in the past but was previously unable to do—picking locks, coaxing plants into growth spurts, levitating objects and hurtling them through the air. Riann was delighted to see her using offensive magic, and he’d carved a few stakes for her, then used his knife to score target marks on the trunk of an old tree for her to aim at.

  The practice was tiring, but the nightly lovemaking sessions more than made up for it. Tariel had never been so invigorated. She felt everything more intensely now—the wind in her hair, the sunshine on her skin, the brush of one of her men’s fingers against her cheek. Her other senses were more heightened too—she could hear a rabbit scampering through the bushes from fifty yards away, and see it too, if there were no obstacles in her line of sight. She wondered if Maroyan mages took up hunting as a pastime—she imagined she would be quite good at it if she put her mind to it.

  But then again, was it even necessary for her to hunt? She could probably kill a rabbit just fine with her magic alone. Tariel might have already attempted such, if the thought of using her magic to kill did not turn her stomach. Though she knew quite well animals were killed all the time to put food on the table, she had never had to do the deed herself. The idea of using her power to end another’s life, even an animal’s…she wasn’t ready to confront it yet.

  While these thoughts kept Tariel wide awake, Calrain and Riann slumbered peacefully on either side. She wished she could close her eyes and sleep with them, but she was still far too energized. Using her magic to silence her movements, she slipped back into her dress and climbed down the ladder.

  “Where are you off to at this time of night?” Zolotais asked as she stepped outside. The desert spirit was standing guard, her ethereal form a glowing beacon in the cold, dark night.

  “I am restless,” Tariel confessed. “All of this lovemaking has filled me with far too much energy. I am hoping a walk will help calm me.”

  Zolotais chuckled a bit. “You might consider practicing your magic while you walk about,” she said. “That will help burn off some of that excess energy.”

  Tariel nodded, then promised Zolotais she would not leave the village borders before she headed out. The scuff of her boots against the dirt paths was the only sound in the village at this time of night. The two cats that lurked around had successfully chased off the rats, and no other animals dared set foot in the village. Tariel looked around, wondering if she could find the two felines—she had tried to approach them earlier, but they had scattered almost instantly.

  I wonder if I can use my magic to soothe them, she thought. It was certainly worth a try. After all, if she could make horses and men fall asleep, surely she could charm an animal too, couldn’t she?

  A movement out of the corner of Tariel’s eye caught her attention, and she slowly turned, thinking it was one of the cats. The motion came from one of the squat houses to her left, and as she stared, she thought she caught a flicker of light.

  What is that?

  Cautiously, she approached the house. The door was wide open, and the floorboards creaked as she crossed the threshold. Like many of the other houses, this one still had all its furniture—a rough-hewn table and chairs in one corner, a counter by the wood-burning stove with several cooking implements laid out, and a rocking chair with a blanket slung over the back.

  “Oh gods,” she gasped as she drew closer. The rocking chair was not empty. The skeleton of a child no older than eight sat in it, its head tilted to the side. The bones were covered in a tattered blue dress, and at its feet lay a straw-stuffed doll.

  “I do so miss playing with it,” a forlorn, child-like voice said from behind. Tariel spun around, a scream clawing at her throat that she only just managed to hold back. A ghostly blue figure stood behind her, wearing a tattered dress and clutching a blanket that look
ed remarkably like the one hanging on the back of the rocking chair.

  “I can’t touch real things anymore,” the girl said, bending down as if to pick up the doll. Her ghostly fingers passed through the toy, and her mouth turned down into a frown. “Do you think you could pick it up for me?” she asked.

  “Of course,” Tariel said, finding her voice. She crouched down and carefully lifted the doll from its place on the ground. A chill raced up her spine, and she briefly worried that the toy might be infected with plague before she remembered Zolotais’s assurance that she was impervious to such diseases. “Is that better?” she asked.

  The ghost nodded. “Put her in the rocking chair,” she told Tariel. “Gabby shouldn’t lie on the floor where the dogs can get to her and chew her up. That’s what Momma always said.”

  Tariel cocked her head. “Where is your momma now?”

  “Dead.” Tears slipped down the child’s cheeks, disappearing into thin air before they could hit the ground. “Sometimes I can hear her voice calling out to me in the night, telling me to come to her. But I don’t know where she is.” Her chin wobbled.

  Tariel’s heart ached for the little girl. She must be tethered to this world, unable to pass on to the afterlife with the rest of her family. “Was your momma sick?”

  The child nodded. “Everyone was sick,” she whispered. “Momma, Poppa, my brother Darry, the whole village,” she said. “Even the chickens and the livestock caught the sickness. There was nothing anyone could do. Our healer was one of the first to die, and no other would come to our aid.” The child’s throat bobbed. “I was the last to die, and there was no one left to bury me.”

  Tariel swallowed back tears of her own. “I’ll bury you,” she said, placing the doll in the skeleton’s lap. “Would you like me to bury Gabby with you too?”

  “Yes, please.” The little girl beamed, a toothy grin banishing the misery on her face. “Maybe then I can go see Momma.”

  “How long has it been since you last saw her?”