The Pillaging of an Empire

by Amanda Clover

  The golden eye looks from above.

  The red from below.

  Like is like, and between the two I flow.

  What am I?”

  Greta gnawed on her lip thoughtfully. Dinni whimpered behind her, clutching her leg, burying his face against her ass. She glanced up at the serpentine shape, flames licking at the air hungrily, its white eyes so bright she couldn’t meet them.

  “Is… is it fire?” she asked at last.

  A sound like steam escaping a kettle rose from the monstrosity above her. “Correct,” the spirit hissed. “It seems you may survive in truth. But be warned. I am but the first, little guarling. And those who will come will not be so bound as I!”

  Greta grinned in triumph, and then her smile fell as the guardian began to swell. With a scream of surprise she threw up an arm as the serpent suddenly exploded in a roar of surging blue flame. The fire twisted into the air and snaked to the wall behind the temple. It struck the ancient stones, seeping between the cracks.

  Greta lowered her arm at last, feeling the heat of the room begin to fade, the coolness of the underground filling the gap. By the feeble light of her globe she saw that the wall behind the altar was gone, a great gap remaining that showed a set of steps descending into the darkness of the earth.

  Greta let out a breath. “Well,” she said weakly. “That went well.”

  Dinni whimpered into her ass.

  “Get out of there,” she said, pushing the gertling back. “Honestly!” she huffed.

  “Me not want to go,” the gertling whined.

  “And I didn’t want you to fuck my ass! But we don’t always get what we want, do we?” she said sharply. “Now come on.”

  “Me not want go down,” the gertling whined. “Me not want die to demons! Me rather killed right here!”

  Greta glared at the creature, but despite his knees knocking like a pair of castanets he stood his ground. Greta rubbed her forehead in frustration. Gods damn it. It would be simple to kill the creature, certainly. But, on the other hand, if what the scrolls she’d read hinted at came to pass, it might not be a bad idea to have the gertling with her. Just in case. And if he was committed to her survival…

  “Alright,” Greta said. “Look. I’ll make you a deal. Hm? If we survive this, I’ll let you go. You can leave and I won’t kill you. Alright?”

  Dinni stared at her with his wide eyes. Then his face screwed up suspiciously. “You promise?”

  “I give you my word as the Duchess,” Greta said.

  “What that mean?”

  Greta sighed. “Yes. I promise. Now, are you coming?”

  The gertling considered it carefully. And Greta would have to be blind not to see how his eyes wandered over her buxom frame once more. Was the little monster really thinking about that now? Greta rolled her eyes, but nonetheless shifted a little, pushing out her breasts a bit more, cocking her hip and resting a hand along the curve of it. “Well?”

  Dinni hesitated, then nodded. “Okay. Me come.”

  “Good,” Greta said, turning about and starting down the dark steps. “Now come on. Let’s go.”

  Trials of Darkness

  “Aw shit.”

  Greta was not usually one for expletives, but the words slipped from her mouth as she surveyed what had once been a bridge, before part of the ceiling had collapsed, tearing the chunk out of the stone walkway and leaving it somewhere far below in the dark pit that consumed the chamber. Far beyond the reach of her light, and in all likelihood sporting something pointy at the bottom.

  Greta looked back up at the ragged end of the bridge leading to the next doorway, her lips pursed with irritation.

  “We not go on?” Dinni asked hopefully.

  “Of course we are,” Greta said irritably. She lifted her finger, sending her globe of light hovering about the edges of the chamber. “…See? The frescoes. The ledge of their frames should be just thick enough for us to walk across.”

  Dinni stared at the thin walkway, then glanced back at Greta. And in particular, the rather obvious shape of her large breasts and plump bottom. Not exactly assets which translate well to squeezing along a knife’s edge drop along a wall.

  Greta felt a subtle blush suffuse her face. “I can make it,” she said stubbornly.

  “Me not say anything!” Dinni squeaked.

  “You were thinking it.”

  “No! No me not!” Dinni quickly said. “Me not think about wo-man’s tits!”

  “Shut up! Just follow my lead.”

  Dinni padded after the shapely sorceress and towards the frescoed wall. Greta paused before it, and had a moment of doubt. Up close, the ledge was considerably smaller than her first estimation. But then again, what choice did she have? With a sigh she delicately stepped onto the ledge, pressing her plush bottom against the wall, her fingers clinging to the slim cracks between the vast figures of serpentine creatures and strange gods. Thus prepared, she began her creeping way along the ledge.

  She immediately regretted her decision. Shuffling along the edge, facing outward, she found she had no choice but to face the hungry darkness that lay beneath her. Only the sound of her heavy breathing and the odd rattle of pebbles or dust pushed off by her feet broke the stillness.

  But she was moving. Inch by inch she was drawing nearer the far edge of the bridge. Hope blossomed in her ample chest, Greta’s eyes brightening as she glanced quickly up at the diminishing distance between her and the conclusion of that nerve wracking journey.

  Which is likely why she failed to notice the slight bump in the wall.

  As her ass slid over it, Greta found herself leaning further out. She felt the plucking fingers of gravity against her soft breasts. Her eyes shot wide open as she began to tilt forward, drawn away from the wall, towards the gaping void which lay before her. She sucked in a breath, every muscle growing taut, her fingers clutching for anchor in the wall without avail.

  A bony hand snapped out, grabbing her teat. Greta gasped, halted in her shift towards oblivion. She glanced sideway to Dinni, the stunted gertling clinging to the wall with spider-like skill, his bony hand what held her back from her doom.

  “Me got you,” the gertling said breathlessly.

  Greta swallowed, not daring to speak or even nod. She merely continued to shuffle past the protrusion in the wall, Dinni’s hand all that kept her from toppling to her death. A hand which, once she was passed the immediate danger, she couldn’t bring herself to ask removed. Not even when the bony fingers sank into her plush bosom, groping her slyly.

  Her face flamed but she continued to shuffle along until, at last, they reached the far edge. On shaking legs Greta stumbled off the ledge, collapsing to her knees and sucking in great, greedy gulps of air. She bowed her head in relief, only barely stopping herself from kissing the dusty stones which formed terra firma.

  “You safe now,” Dinni said, awkwardly patting her back.

  “Th… thank you,” Greta gasped, looking up at the gertling.

  Dinni nodded quickly. “Yes. Me do good?”

  “Yes, Dinni. Yes. You… You did very good.”

  The gertling shuffled his feet nervously. “Theeeeen… maybe Dinni deserve reward?”

  For a moment Greta could only stare incredulously at the gertling. Then, she sighed. “I am not freeing you yet, Dinni.”

  “Oh. Okay. But um… maybe something else?”

  “Like what?”

  Dinni licked his lips. “Maybe… maybe wo-man suck shank?”

  Greta’s jaw dropped. “I… what?”

  “It reward,” Dinni said quickly. “Reward for saving! And… and maybe inspire Dinni to help more often. It be good!”

  Greta glared at the gertling. But, on the other hand… it was true that he had saved her. If the little monster hadn’t been there, she doubtless would have ended up tipping over the edge and falling into the waiting darkness far below.

  And besides, was it really worse than what they’d done already?

  She sighe
d, rubbing her brow. “Alright. Fine.”

  Dinni beamed in delight. Eagerly he grabbed his loincloth, pulling it aside and baring his warty shaft. Greta grimaced at the sight of the monster’s tiny cock, but sighed and crawled nearer. At least she was already on her knees.

  Dinni quivered in eager anticipation as the busty noble took his cock in her hands. Her face screwed up with disgust as she rubbed his tiny shaft, feeling the slime of his pre drool over it as she rubbed his underside and the bumps which littered his length. As she did so, she couldn’t help but remember when he had been plunging it into her clenching ass, riding her with panting gasps and eager, rutting thrusts.

  “Ooooh feels gooood,” Dinni moaned.

  “Could you not talk during this?” Greta groused, even as her hands moved faster along his shaft. She sighed and leaned in, her nose wrinkling at the scent of his cock and oily cum. Reluctantly, she opened her mouth and took his tiny prick between her soft lips. She moaned in disgust at the salty taste of it gliding along her tongue. She wanted to spit it out, but she tightened her soft lips around him and began to suck.

  “Oooooh!” Dinni cried out as she bobbed her head, her whole body joining in the act, ass pushing out while her great, heaving breasts swung in time as she sucked him off. “It so goooooood! Wo-man mouth so good on cock!”

  Greta rolled her eyes but moved her tongue around his cock. Dammit! Why hadn’t he cum yet? She doubted the pathetic little creature had this much control over himself. Her tongue stroked and slipped all over his cock, tasting his oily pre as she tried to bring the stunted monster to his peak. She could fit his whole length into her mouth and this she did with every stroke, bathing him in her saliva and sucking off the salty hints of his precum.

  Though it seemed an eternity to Great, it was not long before Dinni squealed in pleasure, grabbing her head and pulling her flush against his groin as he suddenly came. Too surprised to pull back, the shapely sorceress got a mouthful of the gertling’s spurting cum. She gagged but swallowed on instinct, feeling his foul seed drool down her throat and into her stomach. She continued as his cock pulsed again and again, spurting the revolting liquid to the back of her throat and causing her to swallow repeatedly.

  Dinni whimpered in sated pleasure, his cock still hard as Greta pulled her head back with a noise of disgust. “Ugh!” she choked. “You could have warned me!”

  “Me sorry,” Dinni said. “But me not think mouth so good! Me cum so fast.”

  “Well fast or not, that’s your reward,” she said dryly, fetching a handkerchief from her pocket and wiping her mouth of the remnants of his cum. She pulled out a flask and took a quick swig of water to wash her mouth out. “Bleh. Alright. Come on. There’s still the rest of this temple waiting.”

  “Me come,” Dinni said, trotting after her obediently as she moved deeper into the temple, his wide mouth sporting a grin.

  The Third Chamber

  Down the twisting corridor Greta went, running her fingertips along the stones of the far wall, feeling the uneven cut of the ancient passage. Dinni stuck close to her now. Perhaps it was due to the lack of light, but Greta’s other senses seemed more acute. In particular, that of her awareness of the space around her, and therefore how openly the gertling was ogling her.

  He’d grown braver after she sucked his cock, she mused. Perhaps he was hoping for another reward if he helped her. Well, that was fine, in her opinion. If the gertling assisted her in overcoming the dangers of the temple she’d be glad for it.

  After all, it was for the secret.

  It had taken her ages to discover it. Years of labouring over scrolls and tattered parchments. Countless hours scouring the ancient libraries of Istanov and neighbouring kingdoms. She had even visited Ctharne, the fabled isle of the huntresses, gathering knowledge from their rare books. All of it to discover this.

  She had long thought that it had not been some disease or invasion that had destroyed the lost kingdom. No. She had felt sure that it had been something else. Some powerful spell, potent enough to destroy the fabled civilization. A magic lost with its people.

  And if she was right, that magic lay within this very temple.

  Passing through the doorway revealed a small, spherical chamber, the path raised in the middle, the walls lined with curious pictographs of stars and constellations worked in various ways. Greta recognized few on the walls, but she wasn’t terribly surprised. After all, the lore of the heavens would have changed in the ages since the civilization whose temple she was in fell. She flicked her hand, the globe of light rising towards the ceiling, revealing the extent of the chamber as well as the far wall. The heavenly designs all seemed to close towards a sealed doorway at the far end of the room, where the phases of the moon had been worked with flawless marble and darkest obsidian.

  “What we do?” Dinni asked nervously.

  Greta stepped forward, scrutinizing the whole of the room and the furthest door in particular. “Let’s see…” she murmured thoughtfully, tapping her chin. “If the century of the ageless was here… and those stars must have moved in the constellations… then…”

  Dinni watched her in dull silence as she muttered to herself. The gertling jumped when she suddenly clapped her hands. “Got it!” she crowed in delight. “The doorway is sealed and will only open on the twelfth hour of the night. And it is… let’s see… the fourth. So it seems we have a while to wait.”

  “Wait?”

  “Yes,” Greta said, sitting on the floor and fetching out her blanket from her pack. “And I think it’s a prime time to rest. I’ll need all my magic for the passages ahead.”

  “You sleep?”

  “I am. You keep watch. If anything happens, wake me immediately.” She gave him a stern glare. “And don’t even think of trying anything while I’m asleep. Or you know what will happen.”

  The gertling swallowed and rubbed the dark band around his neck. “Me swear!” he squeaked. “Me not do anything!”

  Greta scoffed. “See you don’t.”

  Pulling her blanket around herself, Greta rolled over and rested her head on her arm. Gods she was tired. Once she’d lain down she felt the exhaustion of her near death in the chamber of the pit press down on her. Gods. She really had almost died there. Were it not for the gertling, she’d probably be just another corpse lying at whatever dark depth lay within the pit. A broken heap, forgotten while monsters rampaged over what had once been her home. Her lashes fluttered as sleep slowly claimed her. And if she died… she’d never get to see… the empress… again…

  Her eyes slid shut, and when she opened them again, she was no longer in the cold stone chamber beneath the earth. Instead of the pale constellations the world glittered with the warmth of a hundred golden chandeliers whose candles flickered like stars in the sky. The walls were the deep bronzed hue of amber worked in immaculate designs, and the floor shone like a lake of silver.

  Greta strode forward, a gown of ruffs and lace fluttering around her. She knew this place. She’d known it well. The grand ballroom of Moskov. The palace of the emperor. And she knew this day. Recognized it from her memory. It was the coronation of the emperor. A day when all the great houses of Istanov had attended to swear their allegiance to their new ruler.

  Greta remembered this. The actual coronation had been a hopelessly dull affair. She, like the countless other nobles, had waited in a line before the throne of the empire. She’d bowed before the smirking emperor, still firm with youth. Handsome and strong. For this had been before he’d sunken in the debauchery of his rule. When there had still been hope for him as a great ruler.

  “Ugh,” Greta grunted as she moved listlessly about the ballroom. She was already sick of the whole affair. She missed her pants and her jacket. The gown was fluttery but it dragged at her, and the ceremony was unbelievably dull. She doubted Androse would make a good emperor. The man had been so arrogant. Not to mention a lusty ass. She’d felt his eyes wander over her as she curtsied and swore to serve him.
r />   “I look forward to it,” he’d grinned.

  “Pig,” Greta grumbled, snatching a glass of rich wine from a server’s platter and downing it in one go. The liquor drowned her tongue in its sweetness but the heaviness that filled her head was comforting. She glanced around at the splendour of the ball room. It had been a long time since she’d seen anything quite so beautiful. She really should get out more. But she just couldn’t bear the other women of court. All so air headed and insipid. She could barely hold a conversation with one for a minute. And none had the true appreciation for antiquity. She sighed, head slumping sideways. She supposed it was to be expected. After all, especially in the capital, it was like everyone moved in orbit around the palace.

  Everyone but the Red Mages.

  She caught a glimpse of one of the red robed figures moving about the edge of the room, their features masked, hood drawn up. A shiver raced up her spine.

  “Greta Dalia.”

  Greta jumped, whirled about, and nearly dropped her glass in shock. For before her was the loveliest woman she’d ever seen. Blonde hair like fresh spun gold framed a face of striking beauty. A flowing gown suggested curves and laid bare the upper globes of flawless pale breasts. Eyes of sharp intellect and intensity met Greta’s. The woman tilted her chin, eying her like a curious specimen.

  “H-how do you do,” Greta said, quickly curtsying.

  The woman smiled, and Greta felt her face warm with a blush. “Do you know who I am?”

  “S-sorry?”

  The woman moved her hand from her side, and Greta saw she wore a sword at her hip. Greta blinked in surprise, but then she saw the jewel that topped the hilt. The jewel she had read about from the days of the expansion of Istanov’s empire.

  “Oh gods,” Greta said. “Y-You’re the Grand Duchess!”

  “Damera Istanova,” she said, extending her hand. “A pleasure.”

  “It is? I mean, ah, th-thank you, my lady. I don’t… I’m so sorry. I’ve been drinking and I…”

  Damera laughed. “No need to apologize, Greta. And please. Damera. I believe since we are cousins we should at least be able to call each other by our names.”