TITLE    : Emperor's Shadow Ch. 03
STORYID  : emperors-shadow-ch-03
SUMMARY  : The warrior reveals a secret.
AUTHOR   : averagereptile@lit
DATE     : 2021-09-28
CATEGORY : science-fiction-fantasy
FLAGS    : h
TAGS     : |warrior|medieval|royalty|nobility|size difference|bathing|journey|outdoor|tender|


With the rain came a chill that lasted through the night. Kenna clung to Gowain for warmth, and he held her tightly against himself. She woke once in the middle of the night and felt his chiseled, hard chest rise and fall against her cheek. His hand was still wrapped around her, his palm firm against the small of her back.

They woke with the dawn, stiff and cold from a night spent on the rocks. Kenna's head swam with hunger; her stomach twisted. She could only imagine the tall man felt the same. He surely needed more sustenance than she did, as big and muscular as he was.

They set out from the overhang. The earth was still wet, the ground muddy and the air lightly chilled. At midmorning they had a stroke of luck.

"Look!" Kenna cried. She grabbed him by the arm and pointed. He peered in the direction she was pointing, and his face lit up as he recognized what she'd seen: unmistakably, one of the trees in front of them bore apples. They both sped up. Kenna grinned.

It was a tall tree; she could only reach one of the fruits. They were small and tart, but Kenna moaned as she bit into the hard flesh nonetheless. She was starving. Gowain took one of the higher fruits and bit into it with a satisfied sigh. They both closed their eyes. Then he chuckled. She opened her eyes and looked at him, and they both smiled at each other.

Kenna finished the apple quickly and rose on her tip-toes to get another. But all the fruit was just out of reach. The tips of her fingers could just skim the bottoms of the nearest fruits.

Gowain reached over her, his hand brushing against hers. He grabbed the apple she was reaching for and twisted it off the branch.

He held it to her, but when Kenna went to take it he pulled the fruit back and smirked.

"Gowain," she said, and reached again.

He held it just out of reach, his eyes sharp on hers and the corner of his mouth turned up.

"Please," she said.

He bent to kiss her. He tasted like apples, tart and sweet all at once. His free hand wrapped around her and squeezed her ass, hard. Kenna yelped and pressed forward against him. He ground his crotch against her as his lips moved against her lips. Then he pulled away from her, panting, and offered her the fruit.

"You make it hard to think of anything but sex," Kenna informed him. She bit into the apple slowly. His eyes were narrow with lust, and glued to her. He took another fruit from the tree and began to eat as well.

In the not-too-far distance, there came the sound of a baying hound, and the beat of horse's hooves. They both froze.

Gowain grabbed her hand and bolted forward.

They crashed through the undergrowth, and then they were charging downhill, fairly flying over the slick, muddy ground. Gowain was the faster runner. He towed her forward. Kenna's legs could scarcely move quickly enough to keep hold of him. With each step she was certain she'd tumble head over heels, but somehow she stayed upright.

But they could not outrun hounds, or horses. Gowain slid to a stop, his chest heaving, as two of the horses cut them off. He turned frantically, pulling Kenna with him, but they were surrounded.

The hounds circled, barking. But they were scent-hounds, not hunters, and they did not lunge. The real threats were the men on horseback, who wore the blue-and-silver of lord Beldon. There were four of them. One carried a bow, and the rest had swords.

The monastery had caught up with them at last.

Gowain drew his own blade and backed up, pushing Kenna behind him. One of the swordsmen charged, swinging his blade at Gowain as he passed. The southern warrior moved faster than Kenna could see.

All she knew was that in a blur of motion, the blue-and-silver man was knocked from his horse, and Gowain was swinging up into the saddle. Gowain swung low, running his blade through the fallen man as Kenna screamed.

Blood, blood everywhere; it was utterly horrible. She had never seen violence, not like this.

The archer shot. Like the world was slowed down, like time stretched out, she watched an arrow slide into Gowain's shoulder. The impact slammed him back in the saddle. The horse reared, but Gowain stayed mounted and kicked it forward.

The archer turned his mount to run, but not quickly enough. Gowain fought like a demon, like a hellcat; in seconds his stolen steed had gained on the archer, and then the archer, too, was killed by his sword. Gowain grabbed the archer's reins as his horse struggled, eyes rolling. The corpse fell from the saddle and thudded to the wet earth.

The other blue-and-silver men ran. Gowain watched them leave, then turned to Kenna, who crouched next to a tree with her mouth parted and her eyes wide and glossy. She stared in Gowain's direction, but saw nothing. Her whole body shook with terror.

He regarded her coolly, his lips pressed together in pain and his jaw tight. He beckoned. Very slowly, Kenna shook her head. Gowain kneed his horse over to her, the other following as he still held the reins. He handed them to Kenna.

She stared at the reins, and blinked. She couldn't make sense of anything; she was still in a shock of terror at the violence and death she had just witnessed. Gowain pushed the reins into her hands and closed her fingers around them.

She let him. All she could hear was her breath; all she could smell was an acidic tang she thought must be blood. She could see every detail of the scene around her, and yet also nothing. It was like her brain had shut off.

Gowain wiped his sword on the bark of a tree--little good, that did--and slid it back into its sheath. She recognized, in a distant way, that there was sweat on his face. That his tan skin was paler than usual, gleaming against his long dark hair. Pain. It was pain on his face. The arrow still jutted from his shoulder. He pointed with his other arm to the saddle, emphatically.

At last, moving slowly, Kenna gripped the sides of the saddle. She lifted one leg high, her knee near up to her chest to get her foot in the stirrup. Awkwardly, her whole body still trembling, she hauled herself onto the horse's back.

Her dress rode up around her thighs, her bare legs pressing against the leather tack. She looked up at the sky, desperate not to catch sight of the corpses again. It was shockingly blue and cloudless; the last night's storm had passed on its way. She drew a deep breath and focused on the flickering foliage that obscured the blue expanse.

Gowain nudged his horse forwards. Kenna's followed. They alternated walking and cantering, covering more ground than they could ever have on foot. Uphill, downhill, they kept moving steadily south. Shortly after noon, they crossed paths with a well-worn cart trail. It was the first sign of civilization since they had left the monastery.

***

By midafternoon, Gowain was swaying in his saddle. Kenna tried to get him to dismount so she could look at the wound. He swung his leg over the horse and fell to the ground hard, stumbling as he landed.

She flinched as he stumbled, and drew her fist to her mouth. She needed this strange man to be alright.

She looped both horse's reins over a tree branch and pulled him down, to sit on the ground.

His breathing was heavy and labored, his eyes closed. His face still looked pale.

With his uninjured arm, Gowain took her hand. He moved it up to the shaft of the arrow.

"What?" Kenna whispered.

He gritted his teeth and grunted in pain out as he wrapped her fingers around the shaft. His breath was heavy and labored, but he nodded to her.

"I can't," Kenna said.

He let go of her hand and exhaled long and slow, closing his eyes. Kenna took a deep breath herself.

She owed it to him to try and help. If he wanted her to remove the arrow, she had to trust he knew what he was doing. She placed her other hand on his shoulder and tightened her fist on the arrow. One... two... Kenna yanked as straight back as she could.

Gowain howled, his body lurching forward as the arrow ripped back out of him. Kenna responded with a single ragged sob. She looked down at the bloody shaft in her hand. The arrowhead had stayed attached; nothing had been left behind. But the wound was bleeding now, and heavily. She dropped the arrow on the ground and looked at him.

He groaned. Gowain started trying to remove his tunic one-armed. Kenna rushed to help. He took the bundled fabric and pressed it against the wound. She chewed her lip for a moment, looking at him and trying to think.

She unwrapped the bandages from around her own wrists. The scraped skin was pink and healed already; it had not been badly damaged by the shackles she'd worn. She used the strips to tie his tunic tight against the wound.

"There," Kenna murmured. "I hope that works. You need medicines, though. We're both in trouble if it gets infected."

There were saddlebags on the horses. Kenna had been too shocked by the violence to explore them, and Gowain too injured to do the same. Now, at last, Kenna rooted through the bags. She found some coin and a bit of smoked meat bound in waxed cloth. A water-skin hung from each saddle, and bed rolls were strapped to the back.

But there was no medicine. Not even a needle and thread with which to stitch the wound.

She shared the food with Gowain, and the water, and tried to formulate a plan.

After eating he mounted the horse with some difficulty, moving one-handed and breathing hard. Kenna kept her eyes on him as she swung into her own saddle, her eyebrows knotted with concern. Gowain's shoulders were hunched over, his face grim and tight.

"I think we'd better go back to that road we crossed," she said out loud, talking more to herself than to the foreign man beside her. "You need rest, real rest. I hope the money I found is enough to buy us that."

***

They came to a little village as darkness fell. It was the first time seeing any village apart from the one by the monastery. With relief, Kenna discovered the people there spoke the same tongue as she did. She had to show the innkeeper the money from the saddlebags before he'd tell her if there was a room available. Apparently, their appearances did not inspire confidence.

Gowain was bloody and bare-chested. Kenna was dirty and barefoot. She could hardly blame the innkeeper.

"What happened to him?" the innkeeper said sharply, as she pulled the little bag of coins from the saddle-pouch.

"Bandits," Kenna lied. "We barely made it out alive."

"Hellspawn," said the innkeeper with a grimace.

She counted out coins for a room slowly, eyebrows furrowed. She knew how money worked, but she had been so young when she was given to the monastery that she had never had to handle it herself. The pouches held a decent sum to a woman like Kenna: eight auret and a couple copper coins, just shy of a full gold aurel. Even outside its borders, the Empire's influence was strong enough that it was their money they used.

A young girl came to take their horses. The innkeeper led them inside, then handed them a key and pointed them up the stairs. He watched as Gowain stomped slowly up, his weight falling heavily with each step. Kenna followed anxiously.

It was a simple room: a fireplace, a narrow bed that would just fit the two of them, a full wash-bowl on a pedestal. Nothing else. Gowain fell into the bed.

Kenna trotted back downstairs.

"Is there someone who might sell me medicine?" she asked the innkeeper.

"Yes, there's a midwife who also knows some healing. Turn right out the door, and hers is the second house you come to." He hesitated, then added: "my wife can lend you a dress, if you'd like yours washed. I doubt my clothes will fit that giant you came with, but I expect he'll be abed for some time, if you want his cleaned as well. And we serve supper. Tonight it's duck and a cabbage broth. Half-copper a piece, for each service."

"Thank you," Kenna said. "Yes, I think. To clean clothes and food."

"I'll have a dress waiting for you outside your room," he said. "Just leave your dirty clothes in its place, and they'll be clean by morning."

***

The medicine woman came and went. She peeled away Gowain's dirty tunic and washed the wound as he hissed between clenched teeth. Then she slathered it with a honey-salve and bound it with clean cloths. She tipped a little vial of an amber-colored liquid into his mouth. The warrior swallowed it and closed his eyes.

"So long as it stays clean, he'll heal quickly," the woman said. "I gave him something for the pain. It may make him a little funny."

Kenna thanked her and rose to lock the door behind her. Then she and Gowain were alone in the room.

She stripped off her dirty gown. With a sigh of relief, Kenna dipped a towel in the washbowl and scrubbed herself as well as she could. She would have sacrificed anything for a chance at a real bath, but a wash with a towel would have to do.

Gowain was watching her. He lay propped up on a pillow, his eyes narrowed and focused on her naked form.

He was absolutely filthy, covered in dirt and mud. Kenna did not know how a man could look like that and still be so handsome. But then, it gave him a rugged and dangerous look. And his face alone was enough to make her weak in the knees.

His cock was hard again. It was still buried in is trousers, but he groped at his shaft through the clothes.

Perhaps she'd give him a show. She liked the idea of him being hard for her. Liked the idea that the sight of her body could fill such a large, powerful man with need.

She smiled and turned away, slowly rubbing the cloth over her back, then down the outside of the thigh. Kenna bent and straightened slowly, dragging the wet fabric up the inside of her leg.

"Hah," he breathed. She turned, teasing the cloth over her mound, and gave him a smoldering look.

Gowain was trying to push his breeches down one-handed. Yes, that was the effect she'd wanted. She giggled and came to help. He panted and stared at her as she eased his pants down over his muscular ass. His hard shaft sprung free, bobbing eagerly for her grip.

Kenna trailed her fingers along it for a moment, then got up and went back to the washbasin. She dipped a fresh towel in the water and came back to Gowain.

He'd wrapped the hand of his uninjured arm around his cock and was jerking steadily at himself, his large hand strumming up and down his swollen length as his honey-brown eyes burned into her naked flesh.

She pulled his hand off of his shaft and wrapped the towel around him, softly rubbing his iron-hard rod clean. He moaned. She gave him another rub for good measure, then began to run the towel over the rest of him.

He grabbed her hand and tried to tow it back to his shaft.

"Not yet," she whispered to him, and kissed his neck. She pulled him up out of the bed and led him to the wash basin, where she could do a better job. He stumbled forward, his hand tight on hers.

She wet the cloth again and began to scrub it over him. His good arm brushed along her body, every now and then tugging her hands back to his shaft. He pushed himself against her grip, rubbed his cock against her side, and bent to kiss her shoulders. She luxuriated in his attention, but turned each advance deftly away, determined to finish washing him before they could get too distracted by their bodies' needs.

He was so large. It took a good time for her to scrub his entire body of their ordeal in the woods. She started with his good shoulder, then his arms. She worked her way down his chest, then up his back, pausing to trail her lips over his shoulder blades. She knelt to wash his thighs and calves.

His good hand buried itself into her hair. She looked up to find him gazing at her. His grip tightened, and he angled his hips to bring his cock closer to her. The space between her legs, already grown slick from the sexual bent of their washing, throbbed with painful need.

Kenna kissed the base of his shaft. It twitched under her lips, a pulse of blood bringing his full manhood to life for a moment. There was a bead of cum at his tip, and she ran her tongue along his length and then over it. Gowain moaned and tried to push himself forwards into her mouth, but Kenna pulled away with a coy smile. She finished washing his legs, and then pushed him back towards the bed.

Naked, she pried the door open an inch and peeped into the hallway. Nobody was there. Kenna dropped both of their dirty clothes where the clean dress had been and lifted the tray of food that the innkeeper had left there. She brought it inside, then shut and locked the door.

"Food first, I should think," Kenna said, carrying the tray to the bed. "And if you eat well, my injured warrior, then you shall have your reward."

He needed no urging from her, as starved as he was. They both devoured the meal, and the pitcher of water that had been sent with it. Kenna felt tired; her stomach had forgotten the feeling of being full. She set the tray on the floor and sighed. Her maidenhood was still wet with desire for him. But they both needed rest. Perhaps that was the best thing to do.

Gowain seemed to disagree. She settled beside him on the bed, but he pulled her body immediately on top of his, dragging her one-armed until Kenna straddled him. She grinned and perched above him, her knees spread wide to accommodate the bulk of his muscular frame.

"I guess you're not ready to rest," she observed. He grunted. The warrior's hand found her opening and two fingers dipped inside. He slid into her swollen pussy with no resistance; she was slick with desire for his cock. Kenna moaned at the feeling of his thick fingers entering her body; her stomach clenched and she bit her cheek.

Feeling how wet she was, he exhaled hard and tried to sit up. She pushed him back down--he shouldn't have been moving, not with his shoulder injured.

She would have to do it herself, if she didn't want the big man straining his wound. Kenna took hold of his large cock. She rose up on her knees and lined herself up with him. Her breath was shallow and fast with excited expectation.

His rounded tip pressed against her slick folds. Then her body parted around his. Kenna bit back a moan as he filled her. She lowered herself down, impaling her center on his thick shaft. Gowain groaned and gripped her waist one-handed.

She wasn't sure how to maneuver. Kenna put her hands on his hips and raised herself up a little, then back down. She rocked her hips around. It felt good, but not so good as when he'd ridden her. She wanted to flip them over, to have him on top of her again, but she didn't dare make his shoulder worse.

It was satisfaction this way, she thought, or not at all.

Slowly she began to move, sliding up and down his rod. Gowain brought his hand around to her front. She ground down on him and he pressed his knuckles against her mound, locating the small nub of pleasure at the top of her crease. He rubbed the pad of a finger there softly, and Kenna moaned. She sat still on top of him, his cock fully inside her, and let him play with her clit.

The pleasure built in her, until she was rocking her hips back and forth against his hand. Gowain moaned. And then it was too much altogether. Desperately she bounced up and down on him, panting hard and whimpering with unmet need.

She wanted him to pin her down and fuck her, hard and fast. She didn't want to do it herself.

Gowain kept his hand at her clit as best he could while she rode him. Kenna tilted her head back and moaned. He brought his hand away from her center and pinched one of her nipples, watching her face contort as another moan dragged out of her.

Then he rolled her over onto her side, his manhood still buried in her and his good shoulder lifted up off the bed. She wrapped her top leg around him as he thrust, his face gritted in pleasure and pain.

For a moment Kenna felt concern, wondering if it was okay for him to be moving like this when he needed to rest. Then she lost the ability to care, as he rammed his shaft harder inside her. His good arm, buried under her, snaked around to grab her ass and hold her in place. Gowain growled and slammed his engorged cock forward again, pulling her tight against him. Kenna's own hips bucked in response, both of them frantically shoving their bodies together. She whimpered again. It was good, so good, but she wanted him on her, bearing her down.
<hr pg="2" />At last he rolled on top of her, balanced on his good arm, and hammered his shaft deep into her. Now she could feel all his weight bearing down on her, pinning her against the mattress as he slicked in and out of her pussy. Each powerful thrust made her vision darken for a second, until the darkness grew, and her eyes shut, and her head fell back. Her breath came in short, heavy pants.

Then Kenna saw stars, and felt one prolonged thrum of joy and satisfaction. For a long moment there was nothing in the world. No smell, no taste, no sensation. No heavy man pinning her down and ramming his thick cock inside her body. Just utter, all-consuming bliss.

Then she came back to the world, and back to Gowain's groans of satisfaction as he buried himself deep. One, two, three more thrusts, and then he drew his cock out of her and pressed it against her stomach. His seed pulsed out of him and onto her body. He panted, and rolled over, and his eyes flickered shut.

***

She washed herself of his cum and returned to the bed. Kenna drew the blankets up over Gowain's naked body and crawled in on his good side so as not to upset the injury.

"Kenna," Gowain murmured.

She pushed his long dark hair away from his forehead and drew a finger along his full lips. His face was tight with pain again.

"Easy," she murmured. "You'll be fine, I think. But you need rest. Perhaps that was not the best idea, though I cannot say I regret it."

"I certainly don't," he muttered.

Kenna jerked away from him like she'd been bitten. She threw herself out of the bed and against the near wall in shock.

Gowain's eyes snapped open. He stared at her.

"Did you just...?" Kenna said, her brows knotted together.

He licked his lips and said nothing, giving her a confused look.

"Gowain," she hissed. "You talked."

He winced and cleared his throat, then pointedly looked away from her. No; that wouldn't do. She came back to the bed and gripped his chin. Kenna turned it back towards her.

"Don't think you're getting out of that one," Kenna said sharply. "I'm not letting you off easy just because you're hurt. You can understand me, can't you?"

He made a face, and slowly nodded.

"Fuck," he muttered. "Fucking pain medicine."

"But you spoke another language, in the cave," she said, blinking rapidly against the feeling of her world cracking apart.

"Yes," Gowain drawled. "It's possible to know more than one language, Kenna."

"What is wrong with you?"

"I didn't know if I could trust you," he murmured. "And then it had gone on so long, it seemed easier to keep pretending." His voice was a deep, husky rumble.

She shook her head and buried it in her hands.

"If you weren't hurt, I would hit you," Kenna informed him hoarsely, lowering her hands until only her mouth was covered.

"Go ahead," Gowain muttered. "Coming from someone as small as you, it won't hurt."

She smacked his good shoulder, and he winced.

"You should have told me. A long time back," Kenna said. "Gowain, that was wrong."

"I know," he said.

"Could have been useful, you know. Being able to talk," she complained.

"We did alright," he said.

"So you just let me say all kinds of idiotic things to you," she said. "And acted like you had no clue? I may die of sheer embarrassment."

"Don't," he said, and reached up to grab her wrist, pulling her hand from her mouth. He towed her all the way down towards him, until she hovered reluctantly over him and glared down at him. "I liked the things you had to say."

He let go of her hand and dragged his grip down along her side. She watched him wince at the movement. Kenna pursed her lips.

"I need to think about this," Kenna said. "And you need to rest."

"Please don't be angry with me," he said. "Talk to me. Tell me how you feel."

Kenna sighed.

"You don't want to know how I feel, not just yet. Try to get some sleep, Gowain. We've made it this long without talking. I daresay you can make it another night."

***

An hour later, still fuming and unable to sleep, Kenna poked him awake.

"Gowain," she said. He stirred. She prodded him harder.

"Hm?" he said.

"Gowain. Get up. I have questions."

He turned his head towards her. It was too dark to tell if his eyes were open; all she could see was the general shape of his body.

"What d'you want to know?" he murmured sleepily.

"What do you mean, you didn't know if you could trust me? I saved you."

"Everyone has a price," he said.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just... look, I thought it better to be anonymous until we were inside Thronden."

"Why?"

He hesitated, as if uncertain what to say. At last:

"For fear you'd ask a ransom. My family cannot pay."

"Ransom? Why? Who are you?"

"Nobody, to you. Just a man from the far south."

"I want to know everything, now. Or I will turn you in to Beldon's men, no mistake about it."

"Kenna..." he whispered, his tone pained.

"No, Gowain, look. I don't care about whatever ransom you think you're worth. I care about the fact that I risked my life to save a man who pretended he didn't understand every damned word coming out of my mouth. So get your story straight now, please."

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. She could see him turn his face up towards the ceiling, away from her.

"Alright," he grumbled. "The short version, if you'll accept that for the night."

He waited for her to object. Kenna crossed her arms and said nothing.

"...I'm from Elios," he said.

"I don't know it," Kenna snapped.

"South. The southern edge of the Thronden Empire."

"Then what were you doing all the way--"

"I'm getting there," he muttered. "My people were... the people were in trouble. It's always dry there, but it's been worse these past three years. A drought. So the crops don't grow, and even the drinking-reservoirs are low. We needed coin. And badly. So a warband came north..."

"That's a long way to go raiding," Kenna said accusatorily.

"It's the fastest way out of Thronden," he retorted. "Further south's just a wasteland. And no idiot would attack territory under his own Emperor's protection."

"Go on," Kenna said, when he didn't continue.

"...so we came north," Gowain said. "I'm sure you can figure out that we lost, and poorly. I thought they'd try for a ransom, but they didn't know who I was. They dragged me to your god-forsaken... your... well, whatever that place was. I kept my mouth shut and pretended only to speak Volerrin, hoping they'd be stupid enough to speak honestly in front of me."

"And?"

"And then you came and set me free," he said. "That's it. You know the rest."

She thought for a while, considering this. Gowain yawned.

"So you risked yourself to save your people," she said slowly.

"I had no choice. If I could carry the northern rains down to Elios, by all the gods, I would have. But all I could do was go to war."

She nodded to herself. Self-sacrifice was something Kenna could understand. It lessened her fury a little.

"So where are you taking me? Back south?" Kenna asked.

"Yes. To Elios."

Into the Thronden Empire. Kenna's heart thumped. Another point for the handsome man, no matter how angry she knew she should be.

If Gowain had not taken her from the monastery, her fate would have been to join a convent. Her purpose as an offering fulfilled, she'd still have been bound to the old religion for the rest of her years. She knew far too much for them to let her go free.

But here she was, on her way to the land where tales were made, side by side with a handsome warrior from parts unknown.

"Will we pass through the Imperial city?" she asked, her hushed voice reverential.

"Cirabas?" he muttered. "Yes, or right by it. I expect we're close to it now. But what in heavens would you want with that?"

"I've always heard stories of it," she said. "Of the golden Emperor, and the Thousand-Towered Palace, and..." excitement made her voice rise a pitch.

"There aren't a thousand towers," he said. "There aren't even a hundred. And the Emperor is a fucking dick."

There was a moment of silence. Kenna felt his words like a dagger, right through her favorite daydream.

"I think I liked you better when you didn't talk," she informed him.

"Sorry," he said. She could hear the smile in his voice. "If you want to see it so badly, yes, I'll take you. I have poor memories of it, that's all. But can I ask you a question?"

"Yes," Kenna said.

"The place we met," he said. "What the hell was that, Kenna?"

"Oh," she said, and laughed. "Yes, I suppose you'd want to know. That was the Monastery of the Hidden Lake. But don't tell anybody about it, please. It's a sacred place."

"Okay," he said. "They told me that much, but. I mean, what... why... you were chained...?"

"You remember it all?" she murmured, trailing a hand along his chiseled chest.

"Yes," he said. "But I didn't feel like myself, not at all. It was like something else took over. Your god, I suppose, that the monks told me about."

"The hungry one," she whispered.

"Will he go away, eventually?"

"What do you mean?" her hand stilled on his chest, her breath catching in her throat.

"It faded after that night," he explained. "But I still feel... like there's some need in me I can't quite... like when I look at you, all I want to do is bury myself inside you. In a desperate way I've never felt before. A, a hunger. A strong one."

Kenna gulped.

"I don't know," she told him honestly. "I didn't think the elixir lasted longer than a night. Perhaps it just takes some time to work out of your body."

She hoped she had not done wrong by freeing him. Who--what--had she unleashed back into the world?

He traced her shoulder with his good hand.

"Perhaps," he murmured. His hand moved lower, tracing along her body until he cupped one of her breasts. His lips found hers, moving gently in the darkness as he tasted her.

"Gowain," she murmured, pulling away from his mouth as his hand tightened on her chest. "Don't think me unwilling, but we really should get some sleep."

***

They left the inn early the next morning, in clean clothes that were only a little damp, and purchased food for the road.

They took the road south, the horses' hooves covering ground swiftly.

They were more or less silent until they paused for lunch in a little grove of trees. Kenna swung out of the saddle, her thighs sore from hours of riding. She winced and stretched, and glanced over to find Gowain staring at her.

"What?" she asked.

"Still mad at me?" he asked.

Kenna considered this. She still felt uncertain around him, like he was a perfect stranger all over again, a man she'd never met. But she didn't feel angry anymore. Given the circumstances of their meeting, she could understand his secrecy, even if she still thought it was wrong.

"Not really," she said.

"Good," he said, and closed the gap between them. He wrapped his uninjured arm around her and lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her fully. After a long moment, Kenna pulled her lips from his.

"What's that for?" she asked.

"Everything," he said. He sighed. "I am sorry, Kenna. It wasn't as though I enjoyed lying. I just didn't know how to go about it. I'm not good at talking, sometimes. But... I'm thankful you're with me." He leaned forward, his lips brushing against her ear, and whispered: "and not just because I want to fuck you until you can't walk."

"If you promise you'll do that," she whispered back, "then I definitely forgive you."

He chuckled.

"Why waste time with promises when I can make good now?" he said, and squeezed her ass.

"Now?" Kenna said with a laugh.

"Well, why not? The road's empty."

"It might not stay that way!" she protested.

"Hm." He turned in a circle, tugging her along with him, and pointed to the denser section of the woods.

"This is a terribly inefficient way to travel, you know," Kenna said with a blush.

"If you don't want to..."

"I didn't say that," she muttered. She grabbed her horse's reins and tromped off into the forest, the warrior following a few paces behind.

They tied the horses to trees and laid a blanket on the ground. And then Gowain bore her down, pushing up her skirt and teasing at her clit until her pussy grew wet and swollen, and Kenna could do nothing but pant desperately and buck her hips up at him.

He eased his dick out of his breeches and prodded against her, pushing his way inside.

***

Despite frequent breaks, travel was fast. They stopped at least once a day to fuck, hiding behind trees, behind a barn, and once--when they both felt a desperate need and there was no shelter in sight--simply trotting a little off-road into a meadow. Had anyone ridden by, they would have seen the big man only half-hidden by the summer grasses, buried balls-deep in a small woman, pumping her with his thick cock, her legs wrapped around his hips.

And they certainly would have heard the small woman whimpering in pleasure as the man's length plunged into her again and again.

They camped in woods and fields, and fucked at night, too. Sometimes Kenna felt so tired she thought she didn't want to, but the moment they were lying side by side on the ground, ready to sleep, her hands were on him with an inexplicable hunger, her body throbbing and all exhaustion forgotten.

A week passed in this way.

By the end of it, Gowain's shoulder was healed. He woke up early to practice sword work, spinning and thrusting against invisible opponents while Kenna perched on a log and watched in fascination.

"Will you go raiding again?" she asked as he sheathed his weapon and began to break down the camp. She stood to help, gathering up the bedrolls that had come with their stolen horses.

"Maybe," he said. "But I don't have the men to, not anymore. I'm not sure what I'll do."

"It's really so bad, your drought?"

"Yes," he said softly. "It really is."

"Perhaps there are gods, or spirits, in your land that need to be appeased," she offered.

"I wouldn't know," he said. He sat back on his heels and scratched his head, then looked at her. "Would you know how to? If there were?"

"I could try," she said. "Perhaps you should have captured one of the monks, instead of me."

He laughed.

"I shouldn't like to fuck a monk," Gowain informed her. "I'm quite pleased with my decision, thanks all the same."

She giggled.

"If it's that unpleasant in the south, why don't we go somewhere else?" Kenna offered.

"No, I cannot." He stood and kicked dirt onto their little fire, frowning. "I'd like you to come with me, Kenna. I've come to enjoy your company. But you aren't bound to follow me, you know."

Her heart thrummed at his words.

"I don't have anywhere else to go," she said with a shrug. She wasn't quite ready to admit that she liked his company, too. "Besides. I've always wanted to see the world. Are we close to your Empire?"

"Very," he said. "Perhaps in it already, I'm not sure. The borders aren't drawn on ground like they are on a map."

***

They next day they rode into a little town. It was a cheerful place, with flowerbeds in front of the peaked-roof houses. The main road was cobbled stone, the rest packed dirt and gravel. A wooden bridge arched over a wide, shallow river, cutting the town in two. Kenna marveled at the size.

"I know this place," Gowain said. "We're almost at Cirabas. Our coin doesn't have to last further than that."

"It doesn't?" Kenna asked, confused.

"No, it doesn't. I can get more there. So let's stay here, until we're out of money. I'm not ready to return."

The coin bought them two days of food and board at a small, well-kept inn. Gowain sold the smaller horse to grant them another ten, insisting they could ride double when they left.

So they lingered in the little town.

Wednesday was market day. The town square filled with merchants, displaying wares on blankets and from carts. Weapons and jewels, mounds of produce, birds in small cages, protection charms, and a hundred other baubles filled the square. Kenna gripped Gowain's hand and looked from side to side, eyes wide.

"They sell everything," she said, her voice barely a whisper in the din of the crowd.

"What's that?" he peered down at her.

"It's huge," Kenna said.

Gowain laughed.

"Wait for Cirabas. You haven't seen anything."

He traded a half-copper to buy them both flaky, savory pastries. They ambled around the square and down a side street, taking in the sights.

Gowain paused at a spread blanket with an assortment of trinkets. Jewelry and ceramic pots, household goods, and wooden carvings lay spread out on the woven mat. The warrior dropped Kenna's hand and knelt to examine the offerings.

Kenna, still overwhelmed by how many people could fit into this small space, put her hand to her neck and turned slowly. She had gone to the village by the monastery now and then, accompanied by an escort of monks to ensure she remained untouched. The market there had been a quarter the size of this town's, if even that, and sparsely attended.

But along with all the glorious colors and people and things to buy, she could see the same bits of unpleasantness that had plagued her home. A dirty child, perhaps eight, crouched in the shadow of a building, staring with blank, hungry eyes at the crowd. His tattered clothes barely fit him; his shirt rode so high that she could see his empty belly.

"Kenna," Gowain said.

She turned to where the warrior knelt. He lifted a simple ribbon bracelet to her for approval. The ribbon was soft red, a circular metal charm hanging from it.

"Do you like it?" he asked. "Shall I buy it for you?"

"It's lovely. But could I have the coin, instead?"

Gowain laughed.

"See what I get for offering you a love-token," he chuckled. "Fine, if it's coin you want." He tossed her the half-copper he'd been prepared to pay and set the ribbon back on the mat. Kenna took it and walked to where the child crouched. She knelt before him.

"What's your name?" she asked.

The child stared blankly at her and shifted back an inch.

"Don't be afraid," she said. "Here, it looks like you're hungry. Buy yourself some food, will you?" she offered the coin. The child reached out slowly. The moment his grimy fingers wrapped around the coin, he scrambled to his feet and sprinted away.

"You've a soft heart," Gowain murmured.

Kenna spun. She had not noticed him approach her from behind.

"Is that a bad thing?" she asked.

"Not at all," he said. He pressed his lips to her forehead. "Not at all. But I hope you'll remember to be as generous with yourself as you are with everyone else, Kenna."

***

That night he fucked her as he never had before, with a slow tenderness unfamiliar to Kenna. Gowain lay behind her, both of them on their sides, with his thick cock buried in her wet sheath. His rough hands traced up and down her body, stroking from her breast to her hip, and pausing sometimes to pull her tighter against him. His hips rocked slowly, plunging himself deep into her before inching out to do it again.

They both moaned as he dug back into her. Kenna gripped at the sheets, her eyes half-closed as ecstasy built through her.

At last Gowain groaned and pushed her over, mounting her from behind. Her chest crushed against the sheets as his weight settled over her. Kenna kept her legs wide, and Gowain slid one of his arms under her abdomen to tilt her hips up.

His weight on her was comforting. Kenna felt secure, and entirely devoured. Pinned between Gowain and the bed, with his thick arms under and around her, she could not move. And she did not want to move.

"How does it feel?" he asked.

"Like heaven," she murmured.

With a groan, he began to plunge into her more quickly. His chin rested on the top of her head, his breathing heavy and desperate.
<hr pg="3" />His hand under her hips moved even lower. His fingers sought her opening, where his thick rod vanished inside her, then moved a little higher. He found her clit and began to rub against it. Kenna cried out as his member filled her and pushed herself up against him for a deeper fit. His fingers quickened.

"I love the way you sound," he rasped through gritted teeth.

Bliss overwhelmed Kenna, crashing over her body like a wave. She arched up off the bed one final time, pushing her hips up against his loins. Then she fell flat with a low moan, her fingers digging into the sheets.

Gowain pulled his manhood out of her. She felt his heavy warmth lift off of her, and he emptied his cum onto her bare back.

"Don't move," he murmured, rising off the bed to fetch a cloth. He cleaned his seed from her, mopping his mess from her back. Then the warrior lay back down.

He pulled Kenna against him, so they faced each other.

She ran a hand down one of his muscular arms. Slowly she came back to herself, her pleasure fading to a quiet, peaceful relaxation.

He kissed her forehead and she felt her heart thrum in response, a strange warmth tight in her chest.

Moment faded into moment, but though they lay in peace Kenna felt nervousness building in her. There were words she wanted to say, but she feared his rejection.

"Gowain?" Kenna said, softly, at last. "I've never felt like this before."

"Me neither," he whispered back.

"I care about you," she said, squeezing her eyes shut and bracing for his answer.

"As do I, Kenna. I went north in search of salvation. I didn't expect love."

"Love?" she said, trailing a finger down his chest.

"Love," he said. "That's what we're talking about, isn't it?"

It seemed fast, but then, maybe it was always fast. She didn't know what love was, not really, but she knew she wanted him to keep bedding her, and holding her at night, and waking up beside her. Was that love?

"I wouldn't know," she said.

"Hm," he answered. "Well. Let me know once you do. My heart is yours."

She smiled and bit her lip, burying her face into his firm chest, glorying in his warm embrace. She could feel his body rise with each breath, could feel the thrum of his heartbeat.

"Gowain? What will happen to me? When we reach your home?"

"You will live with me," he said, lacing his fingers through hers. "And I will care for you. We'll share a bed. And if you want to, a whole life."

***

And then the coin was gone. They left the inn riding double. Gowain kept an arm wrapped tight around her, and his other on the reins. With each step of the horse their bodies rubbed and pressed together. She leaned back against him, and held his hand in place with her own arms.

They camped that night in an open field, surrounded by sheep. It did not rain, but it was both humid and cool. Gowain lay on his back, his hand on his sword hilt in preparation for trouble. Kenna lay on her side, her back pressed up against him.

She thought she could sleep anywhere, if Gowain was there.

The morning sun brought warmth, and with the warmth, a blanket of thick fog. They stirred awake. A brief meal, and then they were packed and ready to go. Gowain pulled her up in front of him, hugging her body to his as the horse left the field and ambled down the road towards Cirabas.

She could not help but feel a sense of foreboding. The warrior's mood had changed; he was silent and terse, his grip tense on her body.

The sun at last rose high enough to melt the fog away, revealing their surroundings bit by bit as it inched higher into the sky.

At noon, they crested a hill and Kenna gasped.

The northern glory of the Thronden empire lay before them. Gowain reined the horse to stop.

"Gods and devils," she breathed.

Before them stretched a patchwork farmland, but beyond it was a city greater than anything she had ever seen. It could have encompassed a hundred villages, or a thousand. Rising above the little buildings, barely visible at this distance, was a great fortress with an impossible number of towers and turrets, its pale grey walls gleaming in the sunlight. Golden banners flickered above it, snapping in the wind.

"Cirabas," Gowain said. "Is it everything you hoped?"

"I didn't know there were that many people in the whole world," Kenna said.

"Just wait. There are even larger cities on the way to Elios." Gowain kneed the horse forward, and they descended the hill down into the farmland.

"I'll believe that when I see it," muttered Kenna in reply.

 

