The Pillaging of an Empire

by Amanda Clover

  “Ohhhh my lady…”

  “Selina,” the huntress breathed, her lips moving lower. “Call me Selina.”

  “Selinaaaaaa!” Nadia cried as the huntress locked her lips on a quivering nipple. The young woman screamed, hips shuddering as she came, her orgasm racing through her in a storm of pleasure.

  Selina moaned as she tongued the young barmaid’s nipple, sucking on the hardened nub and playing her tongue across the throbbing teat. She gasped in surprise as she felt a touch against her own neglected cunt. “What…”

  “Please,” Nadia gasped. “Oh please. I want… I want to taste you…”

  Selina’s eyes shone with delight. “Oh, I think we can do that,” she breathed. She withdrew her slick fingers from Nadia’s slit and crawled onto the bed. Propping herself up among the pillows, the huntress parted her thighs, baring her own, slightly loose shaven cunt. “Come on then. Let’s see what your tongue can do.”

  Selina could fairly feel the heat of the other woman’s blush as Nadia crawled between the huntress’s thighs. She tensed as the young barmaid flicked her slit with her tongue.

  “Oh. That’s right. Tease it first, Nadia. Let me feel your tongue slide over my lips. Get me nice and wet for you… Ohhhh, that’s it,” Selina moaned as the young barmaid obeyed. “Yesss. Lick me out just like that. A little deeper. Get your lovely tongue inside my… ah! Yes. That’s it, Nadia. You’re doing… mnnn… you’re doing just f-fantastic. Now… now up, you’ll find a hard… hard little bead. Lick it, Nadia. Lick mnnnn!”

  Selina threw back her head with a shuddering moan as Nadia found her clit. The huntress panted, her hips rocking, pushing her trembling pussy into the other woman’s face.

  “Yesss! That’s it Nadia. That’s… fucking… it! I’m close. I’m getting closer! Oh… oh fuck yes! Yesss! Mnnnn!”

  Selina screamed with pleasure as she came, relishing the feel of Nadia’s tongue flicking, drinking up as much of her squirting love juice as the young brunette could.

  Panting, Selina eased back down. Nadia lifted her face up from the huntress’s cunt and climbed up the other woman’s body. Gladly Selina accepted the barmaid’s eager kiss, tasting herself on the curvy woman’s lips and tongue.

  They parted, panting. “Oh Selina. Can we… can we do this more? I have all day off tomorrow…”

  Selina exhaled heavily, wrapping an arm around the curby brunette and stroking her ass. “Afraid this is it, Nadia. I leave tomorrow.”

  “Oh,” Nadia murmured, trying to keep the disappointment from her voice. “Can I… Maybe I could come with you?” Nadia murmured, shyly stroking Selina’s breasts.

  Selina sighed, shook her head. “Sorry, Nadia. I can’t take you. I have a mission. An important one in Istanov.”

  “Oh… But, will you be okay? It sounds dangerous,” the barmaid murmured, finger lingering on Selina’s nipple. The huntress inhaled sharply, her smile growing heavy as she glanced at the blushing barmaid.

  “Hmm. The life of a huntress is dangerous. But there’s fun too.”

  Nadia giggled. “Too true.” She shifted, straddling Selina’s waist. Her slick pussy pressed against Selina’s hard stomach, the curvy barmaid straightening above her. “Want to have some more?”

  Selina grinned. “I’m open to it.”

  Still smiling, Nadia brought up her arm. Selina had only a second to see her own dagger in the barmaid’s hand before she brought down the blade.

  Reflexes honed in the Huntress Hall brought up Selina’s arm. She caught the barmaid’s wrist. Nadia’s face twisted with effort, the young woman’s arm shaking as she tried to force the dagger down. With a grunt Selina shifted her hips, rolling herself and the barmaid over.

  Nadia oofed as she suddenly found herself beneath the huntress. Selina’s eyes were hard as she tightened her grip. Nadia squealed with pain, the knife falling from her nerveless fingers.

  “That was very stupid,” Selina said as she snatched up the dagger with her other hand.

  Nadia hissed.

  “Why?” Selina demanded, reversing the blade, holding it near Nadia’s throat. “Who sent you?”

  Nadia laughed, the sound strange, distorted, as if she spoke with several voices. “You’ll never get him. The Duke of Ashes won’t be stopped. He’ll strip you and whip you through the streets while monsters laugh! Your womb will bear the next generation of our kind!”

  Ice coursed down Selina’s back. She leaned forward, the edge of the dagger against Selina’s throat. “Who is he?”

  “You’ll never know!” the woman cried. Nadia suddenly lunged forward. Salina cursed as the dagger bit into the other woman’s throat. Nadia gasped, a greenish ichor bubbling through the gash. As Selina watched Nadia’s face seemed to melt, features sinking away leaving nothing but a pair of misty grey eyes, already glassy with death.

  Selina climbed off the corpse as the plump curves of the waitress slimming away to a sexless, androgynous form like a doll’s. Selina frowned, glanced at the dagger and tossed it into the corner with a clatter. Doppelganger. The huntress settled back on the bed, eying the monster’s corpse in silence.

  The Road

  The winds hinted at the growing winter as Selina rode her horse up the Barren Pass. The towering fortress of Cleavegrad rose to her right, seeming to grow out of the mountain itself with its towering bastions and walls. The blue and yellow crow banners of House Corven, the ruling family of the Kingdom of Heimsvak, snapped in the gusts of mountain air. The guards at the gates wore padded coats and their breath steamed through their helmets. They didn’t bother her long. Her silver hair named her a huntress as she rode through and past the border from Heimsvak into Istanov.

  She’d ridden hard after that night in the Drunken Gertling. The innkeeper had been stunned when she confronted him. Apparently ‘Nadia’ had come for the job that morning. The man’s blush told Selina exactly how she’d convinced him to hire her.

  Selina sighed, pulling her scarf close. Among the peaks winter was already here. Snow capped the towering heights of the range separating Heimsvak and Istanov. Cleavegrad was the only easy way between the two great nations, and its presence had changed hands several times over the centuries. Heimsvak controlled it now, as they had since the Rose War. Lesser fortifications dotted the landscape on the Istanov side, but she rode past them, making haste through scattered villages and homesteads. She slept rarely in taverns, preferring to ride, resting only when her horse grew tired.

  She turned north, following the Barrier Mountains, and in a week of hard riding, Moskov’s walls rose before her.

  The towering capital of Istanov sprawled over the foothills of the mountain range. The palace with its domed towers rested like a crown atop the tallest hill, spires gleaming faintly in the cold sunlight. The streets were crowded, buildings climbing atop one another over narrow streets. She had to fight her way through crowds of soldiers and peasants, up the highway winding towards the palace itself.

  The road there hugged the base of the hill and the heavy walls. Once, Moskov had been but one of dozens of cities. The palace had been a keep, holding fast after the Doom, that cataclysmic event that had sundered the lands Istanov now held in its fist. Moskov had spread, gobbling up neighboring kingdoms into its dominion with ruthless force of arms.

  She dismounted at the gate, several guards with heavy muskets and thick, chainmail jackets lined with fur watching her warily. She approached one and held out her missive.

  “I’m here to speak to Lord Aborgin.”

  The guard leaned in, checking the seal. He snapped off a salute and marched away.

  Selina tightened her lip in annoyance, crossing her arms. She leaned against the wall, eyeing the guard who remained. It took nearly a half hour for the first man to return, towed behind a thin man whose bald head rose from his collar like a vulture’s.

  “Huntress. Good of you to come. I am Lord Aborgin. Here. Walk. Let us talk. I’m extremely busy these days.”

  Selina narrowed her eye
s but fell into step with the official as he walked through the courtyard and into the palace proper. She passed beneath a scarlet banner of the House of Radonoff, resplendent with golden fringe and the bear of Radonoff finished in gems, it hung limp in the still air within the walls. The Radonoffs had occupied the Imperial throne since before the Rose War, a family of pale, dark-eyed rulers depicted in numerous oil paintings within the palace. Though the portraits were flattering, Selina detected coldness, perhaps even cruelty, which could not be erased from those dark eyes.

  “Now! Your job. Naturally, it is essential that the Emperor, bless his rule and soul, see this matter dealt with quickly. We don’t want to worry the people, and there’s been any manner of concerns among the border provinces of late. This would-be Duke is apparently encouraging monsters to cross the Evina river and raid the countryside.”

  “It will take as long as it does,” Selina said. “A monster hunt is not something that can be rushed.”

  “Pish posh!” Aborgin laughed. “He’s merely some trumped up ghoul no doubt. Perhaps a lich or something similar. That area has been trouble for centuries! Monsters and the savage sorcerers and all those strange mounds and the ilk.”

  They passed by several windows looking into a spring courtyard. The interior of the palace was warm, the air faintly scented with a familiar tang of magic. Selina glanced out one of the windows into a courtyard in full bloom, people in the dress of high nobility of the empire wandering about, drinking tea while they watched some tumblers bounce and spin in the air. A peal of carefree laughter carried through the leaded panes of glass as Selina passed by.

  “Now, payment will be delivered upon completion of your work. Of course. But as I said, it is vital that…”

  He trailed off, blood rushing from his face. He stepped aside sharply and Selina followed, watching as several Red Wizards passed, their forms positively swaddled in elaborate robes, their faces covered in white, beaked masks. Incense lingered in their wake, charms stitched to their robes ringing softly as they moved, and Selina felt a faint shiver as the silent mages glided on to some business of their own.

  Aborgin watched the mages pass. “Blasted wizards,” he muttered, though Selina noted he didn’t speak until they were well out of sight. “If they did their jobs… Bah. Well, at any rate, the emperor expects this matter cleared up before the anniversary of the Founding. Oh, and bring back this ‘Duke’s’ head. The emperor would enjoy having that to mount on a pike during the festivities. I suggested he simply send some brigades over the river and into their territory, but the emperor insisted. Frankly, I think he’s overreacting. But the Grand Duchess seems to hold your lot in some regard. I suspect he’s merely trying to placate the young girl. Silly creature has no doubt read too many tales of the Huntresses and their hunts. Naturally most of it is rot, but titillating I’m sure for those into such depraved things.”

  Selina stopped. Aborgin took a dozen steps before he realized she wasn’t at his heel and turned.

  “Lord Aborgin,” Selina said, enunciating his name sharply. “Understand this. I am a huntress. I have been hired to do a job, and that is what I intend to do. Not to work at your discretion. I am not one of your soldiers you can order around.”

  Aborgin purpled a little. “My dear girl-“

  “I am not your ‘dear girl’. I am a huntress of Ctharne. If you could deal with this Duke of Ashes, you wouldn’t have called us. Any idiot can see this whole situation has gotten out of hand. You are losing your grip on the vast western expanse of Istanov. One of your provincial capitals was sacked by orcs your own nobility kept as gladiators, its women enslaved and dragged off. It’s obvious you have no understanding of the seriousness of the situation.”

  Lord Aborgin puffed up, his face twisting. “How dare you talk to me that way!”

  “With all due respect, my lord, you’re an idiot. I know damn well your Duke of Ashes is more than some boggart. And the fact that you didn’t tell the huntresses in your request for the contract means that I could walk away right now. And frankly, I should.

  “But I won’t,” she said severely. “Not because of you. But because there is something going on out east. Something that has the influence to send a doppelganger out to stop even a hint of the huntresses investigating. Now, I leave tonight. And when I return, I will have more news for your emperor. This was a courtesy call, and I’ve already wasted more time than I like dealing with you.”

  “How dare-“

  “Goodbye,” Selina said. She turned, her silver braid whipping behind her as she strode off.

  “Get back here you trumped up trollop!” Aborgin squealed.

  Selina ignored him. The guards. The opulence of the palace. The cold air snapped across her face as she threw open the doors and walked back across the cold courtyard, mounting her steed at the gate. The guards watched her, wary, but didn’t try to interfere as she rode off down the path and back into Moskov.

  She sighed as the towering buildings closed around her once more. She probably shouldn’t have lost her temper. But far, far too often rulers and their like thought the huntresses were little more than hired swords. Ever since the order had been rebuilt under Penelope and Kara’s stewardship, it had taken time to re-establish themselves.

  She mulled on that as she rode through the streets. She had to pass by the market, and as she did she was given pause.

  A show was going on in one of the corner squares. A number of peasants were gathered about a showman in a fluttering cloak of diamonds and rainbows. A gertling was doing tricks, the goblinoid monster dressed in a mass of fluttering rags as he jumped and rolled through a series of tumbles. The gertling bounded back to his feet, only to slip on the cold cobblestones, falling with a squeal.

  “Stupid thing!” the showman snapped, lashing out with his cane. The crowd laughed as the gertling flailed under the blows. Selina’s stomach roiled. She pushed through the crowd.

  “Stop that.”

  The showman paused and turned to her. His eyes widened at the white haired woman, the thin scar across her cheek and the weapons at her belt. The crowd grew silent.

  “Ah, my lady,” the showman said, glancing nervously as the crowd dispersed quickly, sensing trouble. “What… what’s wrong?”

  “What are you doing?”

  The man fidgeted with his cane. “Well, he… I needed to teach the creature a lesson, you know. His sort, they need to be taught. It’s only a monster…”

  Selina glanced at the gertling cowering in the street, covering his large head with his knobby hands. She tapped her fingers against her knife. “Give him to me.”

  The showman blinked rapidly. “I… what?”

  “You heard me. I’ll take him. If he’s such a failure, then I’m sure you don’t need him.”

  The man opened his mouth. Closed it. A shrewdness entered his rat-like face. “Oh, but my lady,” the showman whined. “I couldn’t possibly. After all, he is my livelihood. Without him, I couldn’t live. But ah… Perhaps I could sell him, if my lady was so inclined…”

  Selina glared at him, but her fingers slowly moved to the coin pouch at her side. The showman’s eyes gleamed at the sound of coins clanking in the pouch.

  Selina drew a single silver out. Tossed it to the man. “Here.”

  The showman caught it. His face fell. “Oh, but my lady. Surely the creature is worth far more…”

  “Then perhaps you’ll take a different metal,” Selina said coldly, touching her dagger.

  The showman’s face drained of color. He bowed his head. “P-please, my lady… A pleasure.”

  Selina curled a lip in contempt. She walked to the gertling and picked him up, tossing the stunted creature over her shoulder. She felt the thin creature tremble as she moved back to her horse, guiding the beast through the city. Stupid, she berated herself even as she left. Now she was stuck with the little monster. She could hardly let him go in the city or nearby, likely to end up dead to the wolves or, worse, himself prey on the peop
le before inevitably being caught and killed. She sighed.

  She chose a small tavern to stay that night. The innkeeper glanced at the gertling she carried but wisely said nothing as she paid for the room and went upstairs. Selina shut the door and put down the gertling, the goblinoid immediately racing to a far corner to crouch, trembling and watching her warily with his large eyes.

  Turning about, Selina shrugged off her coat and tossed it onto the bed. Next, she undid the buttons of her leather shirt and peeled it away. The gertling’s eyes slowly widened as her toned stomach came into sight, her breasts nestled in a dark bra that did little to hide her generous assets.

  “What’s your name?” Selina asked.

  The gertling licked his thin lips. “Me Girki,” the gertling said.

  “Girki,” Selina said, as if tasting the name. She unbuckled the back of her bra and drew it away, revealing her creamy breasts. The gertling gaped at her hardened nipples. His eyes widened even more as she loosened her pants, drawing them down along with her lacy underwear, baring the pink furrow of her pussy.

  Selina stood, proud, hands on her hips, her puffy slit bared. The gertling could only stare, dumbfounded at the curvy frame of the huntress, her silver hair drawn over her shoulder in a long braid. A body toned and tight with muscle and training, pale scars from teeth and claws and steel here and there, yet proudly, almost fiercely feminine for all of that.

  “Girki,” she said, sliding her finger up and down her slit until it shone with her juices. “Would you like to fuck me?”

  The gertling licked his lips, wary again for the hint of a trap, but drawn despite it all to her firm curves. His warty cock jutted out between his legs, throbbing faintly.

  “Me… me want.”

  “Hmmm,” Selina murmured, her fingers running up her lower lips, circling the mark embedded above her cunt. Once, when Penelope first came to Ctharne, such a mark was an emblem. A sign that a woman had taken a monster’s seed, impregnating her and binding her to whatever monster claimed the woman first. But the one on Selina, the one every huntress bore, had a different purpose. She sat down on the bed and stretched out, propping herself up on the headboard. She parted her muscled thighs to bare the soft pink gash between her legs.