Contents

     Title Page

     Copyright

     Dedication

     Chp. 1

     Chp. 2

     Chp. 3

     Chp. 4

     Chp. 5

     Chp. 6

     Chp. 7

     Chp. 8

     Chp. 9

     Chp. 10

     Chp. 11

     Chp. 12

     Chp. 13

     Chp. 14

     Chp. 15

     Chp. 16

     Chp. 17

     Chp. 18

     Chp. 19

     Chp. 20

     Chp. 21

     Chp. 22

     Chp. 23

     Chp. 24

     Chp. 25

     Chp. 26

     Chp. 27

     Chp. 28

     Epilogue

     Authors Note-B1

     Chp. 1

     Chp. 2

     Chp. 3

     Chp. 4

     Chp. 5

     Chp. 6

     Chp. 7

     Chp. 8

     Chp. 9

     Chp. 10

     Chp. 11

     Chp. 12

     Chp. 13

     Chp. 14

     Chp. 15

     Chp. 16

     Chp. 17

     Chp. 18

     Chp. 19

     Chp. 20

     Chp. 21

     Chp. 22

     Chp. 23

     Chp. 24

     Chp. 25

     Chp. 26

     Chp. 27

     Chp. 28

     Chp. 29

     Chp. 30

     Chp. 31

     Chp. 32

     Chp. 33

     Chp. 34

     Chp. 35

     Chp. 36

     Epilogue

     Authors Note-B2

     Chp. 1

     Chp. 2

     Chp. 3

     Chp. 4

     Chp. 5

     Chp. 6

     Chp. 7

     Chp. 8

     Chp. 9

     Chp. 10

     Chp. 11

     Chp. 12

     Chp. 13

     Chp. 14

     Chp. 15

     Chp. 16

     Chp. 17

     Chp. 18

     Chp. 19

     Chp. 20

     Chp. 21

     Chp. 22

     Chp. 23

     Chp. 24

     Chp. 25

     Chp. 26

     Chp. 27

     Chp. 28

     Chp. 29

     Chp. 30

     Chp. 31

     Chp. 32

     Chp. 33

     Chp. 34

     Chp. 35

     Chp. 36

     Chp. 37

     Epilogue

     Epilogue

     Authors Note

     Wild Wastes

     -Omnibus-

     By Randi Darren

     Copyright No 2018 Randi Darren

     Cover design No 2018 Randi Darren

     All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by an electronic or mechanical means - except in the case of brief quotations embodied in articles or reviews - without written permission from its publisher.

     The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

     Copyright No 2018 Randi Darren

     All rights reserved.

     Special Thanks:

     To all the fans.

     Chapter 1

     Vince looked at the board while his face screwed up into a frown. His eyes swept from one notice to another, finding nothing that really suited his skillset.

     Escort, escort, escort, escort, escort. Nothing but escorts. I’m no caravan guard. No simple sword to defend a wagon of goods.

     Sighing in defeat, he looked to the tag in his hand. It was the only one that even came close.

     The money promised was good, though. Almost too good. It would’ve been equivalent to nearly three years of normal wages if he’d had a normal job.

     I’d never last as a farmer.

     Like all the other tags on the board, it was an escort mission. At least for this one the clients were moving on foot. No wagon or horses.

     No goods.

     Moving on foot meant he could take some of his personal detours. He could account for them, and know they were safe.

     At least as safe as the Wastes could be.

     The roads through the Wastes were perilous in the best of times. Patrols through the Wastes did little more than lose soldiers and waste money on gear and training.

     Shaking his head, Vince turned around and cast an eye up one side of the street and then down the other.

     Speaking of patrols…

     Across the street, in front of the old United States postal office, a squad of pike-wielding men in various pieces of mismatched armor marched along.

     They looked far too proud for a group of people who collectively probably had less experience than the newest Ranger on their first day.

     Vince felt his face twitch at the sight of it. They were the same people he found more often than not as half-chewed corpses under a bush out in the Wastes.

     They stomped past two men Vince had marked earlier as people of note. Of interest.

     He’d only been at the Ranger board for a few minutes before these two had wandered over and set up near an alley, watching everyone walking by.

     They kept to themselves and their speech didn’t drift or carry.

     He’d taken notice of them simply due to the sheer amount of hate they were putting out whenever a non-human passed by.

     Those men were like a smoldering bed of coals waiting for a stick of wood.

     Grumbling to himself, he picked up his feet and headed over to the inn. He’d rather get this contract moving than sit around cooling his heels.

     Winter would be coming soon, and trying to get through what used to be the Rockies during a Wastes winter would be suicide.

     Keeping his pace sure and steady, his long strides carried him swiftly along.

     With a glance to the side as he passed a window, he caught a quick reflection of himself.

     He hadn’t seen himself in a mirror for a few days and was surprised by the clear reflection in the window.

     Light brown hair, bordering on moving towards being an actual blond, framed an average face. He kept his hair rather short. No longer than three or so inches. Longer than that and he felt like he was always pushing it out of his blue eyes. His height made him look scrawnier than he actually was. Being six foot had advantages, but not always.

     Big-ass scarecrow.

     Snorting at the idle thoughts, he turned his head to the path ahead of him, then to the watch on his wrist. It was an antique. A very old antique. He didn’t wear it when he was out and about often, though when he had a timetable to keep, it was invaluable.

     His father had called it an Eh-Eleven, but that didn’t mean much to Vince.

     It only took him a minute to enter and find the potential clients.

     Both were older than he was, perhaps in their late thirties. Nondescript and looking no better or worse than anyone else in this border town, they were very average.

     Vince didn’t bother to attach any value to the way they looked, but instead looked at their clothes.

     Lightly worn, no patches, no dirt or dust, boots that were new and unbroken. The cuffs of their long-sleeved shirts were the only part that didn’t look immaculate, really. To his eyes, they looked as if they’d been bleached repeatedly.

     It was their nails that gave up their profession, which then explained their cuffs. The cuticles of their nails were black. Ink-stained.

     Scholars.

     Vince plastered a placating smile on his face and took a seat in front of the two men.

     “Name’s Vince, I pulled your tag. Was hoping to discuss it with you,” the Ranger said, laying the request on the table.

     “Ah! Splendid, splendid. We only put that up this morning,” said the man on the left. He was a little heavier than his fellow.

     “Indeed, indeed. I’m Marcus, this is Gator,” Marcus said, motioning to the man who spoke first.

     “Your marker says thirty gold standards. Ten in advance, twenty on completion.” Vince didn’t really want to hear their life story. People seemed to think he gave a shit.

     He didn’t.

     “Uh, ah. Yes. That’s correct. We’re looking to cross so we can—”

     “It also says you’ll be carrying only packs. No wagons or anything like that,” Vince confirmed, interrupting Gator.

     “Indeed. We’ll be carrying—”

     “Good. We can get started tonight. The sooner we can get over the Rockies, the better I’ll feel. Wastes winters are good for no one. Not even the Wasters themselves,” Vince explained.

     “Oh, I see. Yes, well. In that case, could we see your Ranger’s license?” Marcus asked.

     Vince nodded his head. It was a reasonable request and he’d expected it. Reaching into his vest, he pulled out the wooden license card.

     It had his basic information and confirmed his qualification as a Ranger. Someone who could cross the Wastes professionally.

     The backside of it was his successful mission tally, which would show he’d completed thirty some odd missions for the Ranger guild already.

     If he managed to make it to fifty, they’d change the card out with a new one that had a different design.

     “Is this a lot?” Gator asked, tapping the back of the wooden card.

     “For my age, it’s far more than one could expect. I’m also rated as a single notch below a master swordsman. I have no taste for firearms, way too much cost in upkeep. I do have a proficiency”—Vince said, reaching over to turn the card over and tap the listed weapons—“with crossbows and field medicine.”

     The vast majority of his crossings he’d done by himself. Nearly at a sprint from one side of the continent to the other as an armored courier. Not to mention one could do multiple courier jobs in one circuit.

     Escorts just take too long.

     “Mm, mm. I see, I see. Yes, yes,” Gator said.

     “Fantastic, here’s the ten standards in advance. We look forward to working with you,” Marcus enthused, dropping a coin pouch onto the table.

     Vince picked it up and held it in his hand. He needed to clarify one more point with them. “Know this: while we’re out there, you do as I say, and you listen to what I say. This isn’t a democracy and it isn’t a consensus decision. You do what I tell you to. My goal is to get you safely to the eastern seaboard. Is that acceptable?”

     Both men nodded their heads absently, Gator returning the guild card.

     “Then we’ve a deal. Thank you, gentlemen,” Vince said with a genuine smile.

     It had taken the better part of two months just to cross into what used to be Colorado. They’d just barely slipped through before ice and snow made the passes too treacherous.

     Even out in the vast plains of the Wastes, it’d be hard going.

     Vince kept them moving along the old roads, which had long since been deserted and ravaged by the merciless touch of time and environment.

     They’d help move them along, though, and keep them on track, even if half of these roads, highways, and freeways were wrecked.

     “Goodness. Is that a city?” Marcus asked, pointing to what could distantly be seen.

     Vince glanced over and then nodded his head.

     “Never been. Cities like that tend to collect things that you’re better off not dealing with. Most notably undead. We’ll be fine out here in the plains.” Vince looked back to the road, his eyes sweeping back and forth for dangers.

     “It’s hard to believe the entirety of the Wastes is all from a couple of experiments by the old United States,” Marcus said.

     “Indeed, indeed. Now the world lies in ruins. Ruins! The sky’s full of creatures that tear planes out of the clouds, the sea’s full of monsters that devour boats, and the Wastes are as big as they were to begin with. There’s been no retreat in any way, shape, or form. Even after the crusades,” replied Gator.

     Vince listened in, interested in the conversation. His reading skills weren’t great, but even he’d read a couple of books about the pre-Wastes world.

     “Well of course it’s big, it split the continent in two. Apparently, some of the worst of the Wastes is from what used to be Mexico up to…well, here, actually,” Marcus said thoughtfully. “Now it’s all overrun by fairytale creatures. It’s almost like something out of a bad play.”

     “They’re not fairytale creatures. They exist. They live. They want nothing more than to play with your skull. While you’re still using it,” Vince murmured. “Even when you can’t see them, they’re there. Listening.”

     The conversation died after that. They kept marching along and the day wore on. An hour or so before the sun would hit the mountains behind them, Vince took them off the road and to the side.

     The roads had different occupants at night. It was better to simply not be on it when that happened.

     They pitched their camp under a ridgeline that had a smattering of trees. That and the scrub brush all around them did a fair job of obscuring their location.

     He’d managed to guide them into a shallow depression between two ridges, which meant they might even be able to have a fire.

     Which was great news, since Vince had managed to catch several hares. He’d skinned, gutted, and drained them moments after catching them. He’d butchered them on the walk, and the results were all gathered in a sack on his hip.

     The sun had barely graced the edge of the mountaintops when Marcus started screaming.

     Vince unslung his saber from his hip and cleared the distance of their camp to the scholar in a breath.

     “I saw it! I saw it. Behind that brush there!” screamed the hysterical man.

     Vince ground his teeth in frustration. Half the time, these situations resolved themselves without interaction between the two parties. Providing that one didn’t discover the other one. Watchers would watch unless they had no alternative. Some would simply attack due to the confrontation.

     A lone Orc charged out of the brush, straight for Vince.

     Strange. Only one.

     It was average size for an Orc. Maybe a touch on the taller side, but not as wide. As tall as Vince was, though, and the light green skin visible on muscular arms and legs was unmistakable; it could only be an Orc.

     Dressed in a fur vest and what looked a lot like a loincloth, the attacker had a savage look to it.

     Long black hair flowed back from the Orc’s head, bound behind its skull in a warrior’s knot.

     Snarling as it closed the distance, it kept its long two-handed war sword held out behind it.

     Can’t block that thing. Dodging it is.

     While the Orc was big, Vince had an advantage over him. He had quite a bit of experience fighting in the Wastes. Humans and non-humans alike.

     Impressively, the greenskin brought the weapon around in a vicious arc as it slid to a halt.

     Whipping around faster than Vince had originally given the Orc credit for, it nearly caught Vince in the middle of his torso.

     Dancing backwards and then diving immediately forwards after the blade passed, Vince went on the attack.

     His blade came around in a circular swish that was targeted at the Orc’s waist.

     Moving with his blade, the Orc brought the big piece of steel around and held it vertically with both hands, stopping Vince’s strike cold.

     Raising his eyebrows in surprise, Vince pressed up against the Orc and slammed his knee up into the Orc’s stomach to buy himself a few precious seconds.

     Connecting with the rock-hard abs, Vince only gained a chance to disengage easily instead of a follow-up attack.

     The Orc pressed a hand to its stomach and then looked at Vince with renewed heat. Bringing the huge two-hander around itself with ease, the Orc impressed Vince. It wielded the big blade as if it were nothing more than a longsword. There was also the fact that this fellow definitely had some experience in combat, too.

     Vince would have to wait for another opening. He was outmatched on reach and strength.

     The Orc gave him a leer and grunted at him.

     Then the two-hander came forward in a lunge. An incredibly fast lunge that Vince had to turn sideways to dodge, and practically bend himself into a knot.

     Not wanting to miss whatever opportunity he could, the Ranger kept moving down and swept low with one leg at the Orc’s forward foot.

     Unfortunately, Vince was surprised by the Orc again. He lifted up his leading foot and simply stepped over Vince’s attack, then smashed a wicked hook into the side of Vince’s head.

     Stumbling under the force of the strike, Vince took several steps away and shook his head to clear it.

     His blood began to sing, his ears rang, and his body felt lighter by the moment. Vince could feel his control slipping as he got worked up.

     He’d always walked a delicate line between the savagery of his own nature and the control his personality demanded.

     In his heart of hearts, Vince knew he wasn’t actually completely human.

     Not entirely.

     The Orc tilted its head to the side, watching Vince for a moment, before dashing forward. The big sword came out in a sideways slice.

     Without a thought, Vince took a step forwards and then kicked off the ground, spinning himself out horizontally over the blade. The big sword passed harmlessly underneath him.

     Vince landed on his feet and used the rotation of the move to bring his saber around.

     The blade caught the Orc’s forearm and stopped dead on the bone, going no further.

     Orcs were sturdy creatures. Very sturdy.

     The momentum of the attack did more than the edge of the blade. The weight of his blow was heavy, and though it stopped cutting at the bone, the weapon kept moving.

     With a cry of pain, the Orc lost its grip on its weapon. It spun end over end into the trees and scrub nearby. It made a deep clanging sound as it rebounded off a tree.

     Scrambling after it, the Orc darted into the foliage, one hand pressed to its forearm.

     Chasing after it, Vince loped along; he felt confident he could catch the Orc as it reached its weapon, or right before.

     Sliding to its knees, the Orc’s hands scrabbled amongst the grass, trying to get a hold of the hilt.

     Vince stepped down firmly on the flat of the blade as the Orc got purchase on it. He turned his sword around and aimed it downward. It pointed straight into the center of the Orc’s ribcage, right into its heart and lungs.

     With a sudden jerk on the hilt by the Orc, Vince’s attack didn’t go as planned as he was thrown off balance.

     He only managed to get the tip of his blade wedged into the thigh of the Orc. The edge itself was pressed up to the Orc’s throat, however, which left Vince staring into the eyes of the Orc who was kneeling before him.

     Unintentionally, one of Vince’s gifts decided it was a good moment to wake up.

     One of the biggest reasons Vince knew he wasn’t entirely human was he had a number of what he called gifts. Gifts that would mark him more of a Wastelander than a human.

     A mutant.

     As his empathic senses opened up, time for Vince stood still. He was inside of the emotions of the Orc before him. Empathically entrenched in its feelings and psyche.

     Hunger. Overwhelming hunger. Fear. Resignation. Acceptance.

     Along with that came the context behind it. Knowledge without reading the subject’s mind.

     It was a female. A young Orc female. She’d been driven from her tribe when she refused to submit to a young male. She’d bested him, then the Orc’s father, then the father’s brother, in single combat.

     With none left willing to challenge her, and none earning her favor, she was shunned by her tribe. They’d been driven her out completely after that.

     Orcish pride was a prickly thing.

     Her choice had been between only two possibilities: To accept that banishment, or fight them to the death to claim her place as the leader.

     She’d allowed herself to accept the banishment. Taking what few possessions she had with her, she’d set out.

     Unfortunately, she’d met nothing but misfortune. Water had come to her easily, and she’d always been able to find it readily enough. Food had been another matter altogether. She had no formal hunting experience.

     By the point that she’d gotten the basics down from trial and error, she hadn’t the strength or time to spare anymore.

     Gathering fruits, berries, and wild vegetables didn’t fill her stomach, either. It left her wanting more. Craving protein.

     She was an Orc warrior with an athletic body.

     She had a need for meat that she couldn’t ignore at a racial level.

     Her plan had been to steal their meat when they fell asleep. It wasn’t until Marcus had spotted her, and Vince had sprung over with weapon in hand, that she’d changed her plans.

     Giving his head a shake, Vince returned to his own mind. Dark black eyes gazed up at him, waiting. They were large eyes, to the point that she nearly had no whites.

     Willing his arm to move, he wanted to separate her head from her neck and be done with it.

     And he couldn’t.

     He’d killed quite a few Wasters. No small number of Orcs.

     And he couldn’t.

     Gritting his teeth, he felt his heart deny him the ability to kill her.

     She was too human now.

     He knew her.

     Her skin was green, she had a set of tusks, her strength was greater than a human’s, and she sported a pair of pointed ears, but other than that, as a race, they shared more than they differed.

     Instead of letting his thinking go further, or killing her, he untied the pouch of rabbit meat on his hip and dropped it into her lap.

     Dislodging the sword from her flesh, he carefully slid the edge from her throat. He watched her for a few seconds without really seeing her.

     Slowly, he lifted his sword up and wiped the blade clean on the edge of his tunic. Her blood smeared the fabric in a bright red streak.

     Deliberately, he sheathed his sword and then began to take slow, cautious steps back from her.

     Her eyes darted from him to the sack and then back to him.

     Holding up his hands, empty hands, he took another step, and then turned around. Putting his back to her.

     Calmly, slowly, he walked out of the trees and back to his companions. They had a number of months to go. He’d have to catch more wild game tomorrow.

     They had more than enough dried rations for a bland but filling meal.

     Most of all, he knew without a doubt the Orc woman wouldn’t trouble them further.

     Chapter 2

     They spent longer in the central Wastes than he would have wanted. Marcus managed to hurt himself climbing a ruin foolishly. It forced them to a much slower pace for far too long.

     Their destination was Jacksonville, down in what was once called Florida.

     Whatever Jacksonville had been in its past life, it was more of a fort now. A city perched on a shore that they didn’t dare leave. The fear of the monsters that inhabited the deep waters kept humanity land-based.

     Vince and his wards had yet to cross the Mississippi River, but they were only a few hours from one of the few maintained outposts in the Wastes.

     The Wastelanders were on both sides of the river, of course, but for whatever reason, their presence on the eastern side of the river was diminished. The Wasters that could be found past the river were typically far closer to human in appearance and temperament.

     Vince was on high alert because they were so close to the river. The few times he’d had a true brush with death had almost always been near the river. Local Wasters had figured out a long time ago that humans would cross the river. And only in certain places.

     Many had begun treating it as a predator would a watering hole.

     Wait, watch, ambush.

     Marcus and Gator were chatting amicably as they walked along the dirt path. Vince hadn’t wanted to risk much, and so he had them taking a back-brush path rather than the patrolled and more frequently traveled road.

     He’d already tried to hush the two men several times and had finally given up. They spoke in hushed voices, but seemed unable to remain silent for any length of time.

     Drop ’em off, get our pay, get to the board, pick up several courier messages, get back home.

     Vince couldn’t deny he was looking forward to a return to his little home on the edges of wasteland territory.

     In fact, he’d privately cursed himself almost every step of the way on this agonizing escort job. He’d promised himself over and over again he’d never do another one after this.

     At least until I can’t get a courier job. Again.

     It wasn’t the first time he’d promised himself such a thing. Nor did he doubt it to be the last.

     Vince’s ears picked up the sounds of someone, or something, crashing through the bushes off to their right. Heading right for them.

     Only thing off in that direction is swamp.

     At that moment, a group of reptile-men burst out of the brush, growling and hissing. They were on the nastier side of the Waster population.

     Wasters could be anything, really. From undead to elementals. Creatures that more resembled humans with animal traits, and monsters that looked more like animals on two legs.

     These were the monsters-on-two-legs version. They truly looked like alligators on two legs.

     And to Vince, they looked as if they knew what they planned to do before having even seen the humans. All six of them were already moving straight for Marcus and Gator.

     Unsheathing his saber, Vince stepped off the path and into the way of the six assailants.

     “Make for the crossing. Don’t wait. Go,” Vince hissed, bringing his blade up. Marcus and Gator took to flight, their booted feet pounding at the dirt as they listened immediately.

     If they could have listened when I told them to shut up, that would have been great. This is why I don’t do escort missions. I could outrun these damn things.

     The alligator-men clutched small, crude weapons in their scaly paws. The lead attacker leapt at him, forgetting the weapon in his hand and looking to try and clamp his massive jaws around Vince.

     Stepping to one side, Vince flourished his blade, separating from its neck. The gator-man’s head tumbled to the ground, its body slapping into the ground.

     The second gator in line tracked Vince and came in swinging. It was a low swipe, aimed for Vince’s knee.

     Sliding back a step and then darting forward, Vince unleashed a piercing strike. After he skewered the reptile between the eyes, it went limp and nearly took Vince’s sword with it.

     Unfortunately, the third opponent attacked Vince before he could recover from slaying the second.

     An obsidian dagger was slammed into his shoulder above the line of his leather armor chest guard. Then it was ripped out of his shoulder with a vicious jerk.

     Before Vince could respond, the fourth leaned in and clamped its wide mouth around Vince’s forearm protector.

     Growling, Vince managed to get his saber up and run it through the throat of the biter.

     Pushing off from the slumping dead weight of the dying gator, Vince felt the knife sink into the side of his stomach.

     His foe had angled up under the edge of the leather armor. It sank in a few inches from his navel.

     Stumbling backwards, Vince got his saber up into position again. The three remaining gators looked to him and then to their dead on the ground.

     Vince fell to a knee as his body started to give out underneath him. He wasn’t sure if the bastard had nicked something, but he knew he was in trouble. He was sure he’d been in worse scenarios, but none came to mind.

     Pressing a hand to his side for a moment, he pulled it away to check his palm. It was coated in bright blood.

     Damn.

     He pushed his hand back into place to try and stanch the blood, and then Vince started to rise. A pulse of blackness washed over him and threatened to put him back to the dirt.

     A forearm came over the top of his head and clamped down around his chest from behind. A light green hand gripped tightly to his wrist, locking his weapon in place, and began dragging him backwards.

     Looking over his shoulder, he saw the profile of an Orc as the edges of his vision continued to darken.

     Damn, damn.

     Looking straight ahead as his chin began to feel far too heavy for his neck, he watched as the living gator-men fell on their dead and dying companions for a feast.

     As the last of his strength fled him, he realized the Orc was dragging him deep into the bushes.

     Damn, damn, damn.

      

     Vince’s eyes creaked open, then closed again.

     Alive?

     Slowly, determinedly, he managed to pry his eyelids apart.

     Up above him, the foliage of trees danced to and fro, leaves spinning in a gentle breeze. Far beyond that was the blue sky.

     Screwing his eyes up in pain, Vince started to go through a checklist of body parts.

     Head, shoulders, elbows, hands. Okay, good. Chest, stomach… specialized manly gear that he couldn’t imagine living without… knees, feet.

     Everything was accounted for.

     Tilting his head, he tried to get a look at his shoulder. That gator had punched a hole deep into the muscle.

     The wound was sutured closed and smeared liberally with… something. Something that stank.

     Turning his attention down south and discovering that he was naked, he found his stomach had had similar work done.

     That, and apparently his specialized equipment was giving him a proud and strong salute.

     Can’t be too much wrong with me if the little soldier is standing at attention.

     Looking around, he did a surroundings check.

     Wedged into a clump of bushes, he was laid out in the dead center of them. To his eyes, it looked like an animal had denned here for a while and then left. It was a small enclosure, protected from prying eyes and the wind, which might even help obscure his scent.

     Then he noticed the motionless Orc. It was crouched low in one of the walls of bushes.

     A second after noticing it, he realized it was the same one he’d come across months previously. She was staring back at him with those large, dark eyes.

     Blinking once, he strained to look at her, wanting to make sure it really was the same Orc.

     Long black hair pulled back behind her long-tipped ears. Where her arms and legs had been exposed previously, she now had roughly cured and tanned hides covering her limbs.

     Her face was smooth, lacking all emotion. As if she were studying him as he studied her.

     Her lips were generous, her nose straight and slim, her cheekbones high, her jaw sleek and trim.

     In terms of beauty, he found her oddly disconcerting. She had a face that would actually be considered cute, perhaps bordering on being a little pretty.

     Then again, when was the last time I really looked at an Orc like this? When was the last time I didn’t kill them simply out of hand?

     The Orc move forward, her eyes settling on his torso.

     Her lips peeled back as she sniffed twice at him. She had tusks, as all members of her race did. But they tucked cleanly into her upper lip. They looked like large canines more than anything.

     Unable to move or do much of anything, Vince watched, wondering what the hell she was up to. Orcs didn’t patch humans up. They didn’t drag them off from a fight they were losing to save them.

     Then she wrapped a green hand around his member. Her hands were callused, but the touch was soft. Light. Hesitant.

     Betraying Vince’s own desires, his little soldier simply continued to direct all attention skyward.

     Vince’s eyes had gone wide at the suddenness of her action.

     Giving him a thoughtful tug, she sniffed again at the air. The pull had been cautious, a curious testing.

     He got the impression she wasn’t sure about his genitalia. Then again, he could have been the first human she’d seen in person. Let alone naked.

     Much to his embarrassment, he felt his heartrate speed up. Though on second thought, he couldn’t tell if it was fear of what the fuck she was doing or excitement at what the fuck she could do.

     After a heartbeat of nothing further from her, she turned her head to stare into his eyes.

     The Orc warrior murmured something in a feminine yet low, rumbling voice. He swore it had a question attached to the end of it.

     “I’m-I’m sorry I don’t speak your language. Ah…” Vince said unhelpfully.

     The Orc repeated the same phrase, though this time the question sounded more like a statement. He only made out the last word that sounded a lot like Fes.

     “Fes,” Vince said aloud, nodding his head. At this point, he’d repeat whatever the hell she wanted like a parrot so long as she didn’t tear his member clean off.

     The Orc’s eyebrows came together over her dark black eyes. With her free hand, she reached out and tapped his chest with her fingers and said something.

     Then she touched her own chest, and repeated “Fes.”

     It’s her name?

     “Fes,” Vince parroted.

     At that, the Orc grunted, her eyebrows smoothing again. Apparently she was satisfied with that response.

     Dismissing him, her eyes turned back down to his private part held in her hand. Speaking quietly to what he assumed was herself, she waggled him a little. Her words sounded like she was speaking her thoughts aloud.

     Finally, she released him. Much to his great joy and secret shame. Then she gently pressed her fingers to his side. She pushed at the wound, dragging her thumb along the stitches. Then she repeated the process for his shoulder.

     Now that he thought about it, they looked markedly healed. Far more than they should have been.

     Actually, how long have I been out?

     Content with whatever she saw there, she reached to his side.

     He recognized his canteen in her hand at the same time his mouth told him he was as parched as a desert.

     Unscrewing the cap with long green fingers, she held it over his mouth.

     He opened it in mute acceptance for her, and she began to pour its contents into his mouth.

     It had a slight woody taste to it, but the sweet wetness of it on his dry tongue nearly brought him to tears.

     She paused at times, allowing him to swallow. All too soon, she re-stoppered the canteen and set it to one side.

     His head started to tingle, and his hands and feet went numb within minutes.

     Oh. I see.

     It was the only thought he managed before he was swept into the nothing that was a medicated sleep.

     Vince’s eyes snapped open. He recognized the leaves above him, even though it was night now. The air had a bite to it, but he didn’t feel cold. He caught the twinkle of a star or two between the branches.

     Feeling weak all over, sore, and tender at the same time, he realized he wasn’t going to be getting himself to safety anytime soon. He doubted he could wrestle a kitten right now.

     His eyes began to take in the small amount of light available. He’d always had better than normal night vision, and for once felt thankful for those non-normal gifts of his.

     Inspecting his surroundings again, his eyes found he was unmoved from where he’d awoken last.

     He couldn’t even assume this was the same day from when he was last awake.

     Well, that wasn’t quite right. He’d clearly been moved an inch or two, but he imagined that had been probably to check either his wounds or… well, to clean him up if he’d had an accident while he slept.

     Being forced to sleep didn’t preclude his body from relieving itself of waste, after all.

     Looking down to himself, he found the Orc woman pressed up into his side, her knee draped over his hips and one hand on his shoulder, her head on the grass next to his injured shoulder.

     Not being cold made a bit more sense now. That and the fact that the woman felt like a damn furnace. She put out enough body heat for her and him.

     Belatedly, he realized she was awake. Awake and watching him from inches away.

     Clearing his throat softly, he tried the only word he knew, the one he assumed was her name.

     “Fes?” he asked.

     She nodded once at that, lifting her head fractionally from the grass.

     Again came a stream of words, none of which he knew. He swore he could pick out a few in there that he’d heard before.

     Unable to appropriately ask what she’d done to treat his wounds, he decided to try pointing. She’d clearly attempted the same method to him earlier.

     Pointing at his shoulder in front of her nose, he waited a second. Her eyes focused on his finger before looking back to him.

     Moving his hand again, he pointed at the wound on his stomach.

     Her eyes followed his finger towards the wound.

     “What did you do?” Vince asked, moving his pointing finger to his shoulder and then back to his stomach. “Infection is easy to get out here. Oh hell, she won’t know what I’m saying, what am I doing?”

     Dropping his hand to his side and laying his head back down on the grass, he stared up at the tree canopy above him.

     Check it in the morning.

     Beside him, the warrior shifted to an upright sitting position, withdrawing her hand and knee both. His skin felt cold as she drew back. Letting his eyes move to his apparent savior, he watched her.

     Her eyebrows were drawn together and her lips were pursed. She looked like she was contemplating something.

     “Fes?” Vince asked, hoping that nothing was wrong.

     Blinking rapidly at the question, the Orc looked to his face.

     “Fes,” she said with a nod of her head.

     Her right hand snaked down along his stomach. Her fingers brushed over the wound gently and then straight down to his privates.

     Her fingers immediately curled around his girth and gave him a light squeeze. Soft, callused fingers with a careful grip. She cradled him in her palm and brushed a thumb over his tip.

     The whisper of the touch made his skin prickle. Vince’s breath caught between his teeth as his heart lurched.

     Reaching out with his left hand to stop her, he encountered her free hand. She lightly swatted his hand back and then pointedly looked into his eyes.

     Her fingers gently squeezed him, the firm flesh of her hand sliding upwards before releasing him. For a warrior, her touch was surprisingly gentle.

     Her nails, a little longer than a man’s, grazed up and down along the underside of his length. The simple unexpectedness of the touch made it jerk in response.

     Again, his body betrayed him, immediately responding to the soft, sensuous touch of the warrior woman.

     Her hand closed around him once more and with another squeeze of her hand, he’d gone to full attention.

     Releasing him, she swung a leg over his hips. As if it were the most natural thing in the world, she pressed her knees into his sides. She then set one hand down beside his head and caught his eyes with her own.

     Distracted by the intensity of her gaze, he missed it when she reached down between her legs with her left hand.

     Staring into her large black eyes, he felt himself at a loss. It wasn’t until he felt the heated touch of her fingers on him again that his brain shifted gears.

     Her fingers stopped moving and instead pulled at him with gentle tugs.

     Tender fingertips pulled him upwards and he felt the tip press to the soft opening between her legs. Unerringly, she guided him into her channel and then slid herself down onto it in a single fluid motion.

     Vince felt the tightness of her as she squeezed him. The give of her flesh as she impaled herself.

     He caught a momentary flash of pain crossing her features as she settled herself onto his lap at the end of her journey.

     Fes took in a shuddering breath, putting her other hand beside his head now.

     The incredible warmth of her skin was nothing in comparison to the crackling heat of her core.

     Vince stared into those inhuman eyes for several heartbeats as she stared back into him. Then the warrior woman began to move herself back and forth atop him, working him slowly in and out of herself.

     Physically unable to respond, Vince lay there as she did the work for the both of them. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as his body responded to her determined yet inexperienced ministrations.

     Her breath started as slow, easy exhalations, washing over his face and neck. Her lips parted to reveal her tongue and teeth. It didn’t take long before the intensity of rolling her hips brought her to deep, heaving breaths.

     With each and every undulation, he could feel her tightening as she got closer to release.

     Despite her inexperience, she brought herself to a dead pant in only minutes. Her hips worked furiously now as she found the rhythm she wanted.

     Vince noticed when her big black eyes went wide and started to glaze over as she stared down at him.

     Laying his hands on the sides of her thighs with a light touch, he gave her what guidance and encouragement his numbed mind offered up.

     Unexpectedly to him, she sat down heavily on his hips, burying himself up to the hilt. Her waist grinded back and forth as if trying to drive it deeper.

     Then her entire body came to a shuddering halt. She held her breath, before letting out a slow, raspy exhalation.

     Collapsing atop him, she closed her eyes and immediately fell off to sleep.

     Leaving him hard up, wide awake, and about as deep as he could be in her molten insides.

     Staring up at the sky above him again, Vince wasn’t quite sure how to take what had happened.

     For the time being, all he could do was go along with it.

     It’s not like it didn’t feel good. I’m only a man, after all. But… with an Orc? That’s… yeah.

     Shit, wish I finished.

     Chapter 3

     Vince spent the next two nights being cared for by Fes. It took that long before he could even stand without feeling like he’d pass out.

     After that, he started his long journey back west through the Wastes. To his surprise, and yet not really, Fes joined him.

     There was no point in heading east to see if his clients had made it. If they had, they could leave with a patrol. If they hadn’t, it was irrelevant.

     West it was, then.

     During the day, he rested and tried to conserve his strength as they traveled. He checked his wounds frequently and always found them healing quite well. More so than he would’ve had any right to expect them to if he were a simple human.

     At times, Fes would leave for a while and return with food, both wild game and anything she could forage.

     In the short time since their first encounter, she’d clearly come light years ahead in her survival skills.

     As they trekked west, they talked to each other in their own languages. Sometimes for the sake of simply speaking to another person, even if they didn’t understand one another, and other times to begin teaching the other.

     They started to pick up various words here and there, though Fes clearly had a better grasp of English than he did of Orcish. The simplest way, of course, was pointing at items and things and then naming them.

     Most surprising was when they settled in for the night.

     Each and every evening, Fes mounted him until she dropped, sleeping atop him. Vince wasn’t quite sure what to make of the situation, but felt no need to try and stop it.

     Why should he? It was pleasurable and his only real concern was… well, he hadn’t gotten off. Yet.

     Sexual pleasure without a release was its own torture.

     As to her motivations, from what he could tell, they were genuine. The brief flashes from his empathic gift, when he couldn’t control it, only returned emotions of honesty and concern to him from Fes. Or desire.

     Whole lot of desire, actually.

     Enough to make a brothel seem tame. For such a stern and thoughtful warrior woman, she seemed internally driven to distraction by her own sexual wants.

     He’d have never guessed.

     They made slow progress despite neither of them having much in the way of baggage.

     Vince had his sword, a knife, canteen, and an empty rucksack.

     Fes had her own gigantic sword, of course, some implements for skinning and tanning, and the sackcloth he’d given her.

     It didn’t help their speed when Vince was paranoid of any encounter, no matter how small it might appear or remote. He’d drag Fes into whatever cover was nearby whenever he felt like there might be a danger nearby.

     Diving into the foliage, he’d pull her in close and wait for whatever perceived danger to pass. Or for his paranoia to pass.

     Either or.

     She seemed content enough when he did so, letting him dictate their direction and movements.

     The only time she became insistent was right before they’d try to get some sleep. For obvious reasons that he didn’t argue with, she always got her way.

     And just like that, they passed through the Rocky Mountain Range as winter released its grip without incident.

     Vince had a quiet thought in his mind about the fact that this single trip had cost him half a year already. The return trip was almost so quiet that he feared what he’d find upon returning home.

     He didn’t voice it, of course, since it would only jinx the whole damn thing.

     Once they were out of the mountains, things got easier. Wasters were in short numbers this far out.

     It became more of a matter of dodging humans out past the mountainous divide. Those humans would happily avoid you as you avoided them, which suited both he and Fes just fine.

     The world had never been truly kind, but now it wasn’t even cordial.

     Fes had the look of a warrior facing their doom, though, as they went.

     Every day they traveled further into the human lands and closer to the edge of the Wastes, the more she looked troubled.

     It also showed at night. Her lovemaking became more and more frantic at night.

     Their destination was Vince’s family home, so he shared none of her concern or fear. It was actually inside the edge of what was considered by most as being the Wastes.

     It was in what used to be a national forest in California, to be exact.

     His parents had made sure to keep the wild animal and Wasteland animal population alive and well populated. They encouraged those creatures to propagate freely.

     A forest full of Wastes creatures kept other humans out, after all.

     He’d grown up in this forest. Knew it inside and out. Leading Fes straight to the two-story home through the thick woods and over shallow streams was as simple as if there had been a giant, glowing arrow in the sky above it.

     Not bothering to show Fes around, or even strip his clothes off other than his leather armor, Vince had slumped into his bed and passed out without a word when they finally arrived.

     Waking up the next morning, he knew it was pre-dawn. One of the unfortunate side effects of his gifts was a predisposition to wake before the sun.

     Looking to his side, he found Fes sleeping in his bed with him. She hadn’t woken him up the previous night and had been content to simply join him.

     It’d been the first time there’d been no coupling the night before.

     Looking around his room, he felt a little strange. Once he’d turned eighteen, he’d built the additional room himself. With his father’s help, of course. “Odd” was the only way he could describe his feelings now.

     No one else had been in this home since his parents had left something like six years ago.

     Except now he had a woman here.

     In his home.

     In his bed.

     An Orc woman.

     An Orc warrior woman.

     One that seemed intent to ride him like a cheap date every night.

     Fes snorted and then let out a loud, ripping snore, one tusk peeking out from her lower lip.

     Vince watched the sleeping Orc for a second before he gently brushed loose strands of hair back from her eyes.

     In response to his touch, she tucked her head under his shoulder and snuffled before resuming her dedicated battle against the silence, snoring deeply and loudly.

     No delicate princess here.

     Getting out of the bed quietly with a small grin, he pulled the covers up over Fes. Then, using his best impression of a ninja, he slipped out of the bedroom.

     Entering what could be called the living room, he found Fes’s equipment in the corner. A quick glance provided him with confirmation that nothing else had changed.

     At all.

     Haven’t made it home, have ya?

     Vince dismissed thoughts of his parents and went to the basement trapdoor. He opened it and looked inside.

     “Breakfast won’t make itself,” Vince muttered. Clambering down the wooden steps into the cellar, he sighed.

     He walked past the jars upon jars of pickled and preserved food and headed straight to the back.

     Opening another door, he stepped into a room that seemed more like something from a horror story.

     Racks upon racks of cured meat, still on the bone, hung from hooks.

     His parents had discovered early on that Vince had a number of things that set him apart from normal humans.

     The most unusual trait was his ability to take anything he ate and make it a part of himself.

     In fact, that was how he’d developed his ability to see in the dark so well. His parents were nothing if not proficient hunters. They’d brought back any number of animals for supper, many of which had incredible night vision, or simply better vision in general.

     His mother, ever the scientist, had noticed that her little boy wasn’t developing in normal ways. Through trial and error, hypothesis and testing, she’d eventually narrowed it down to his diet.

     In the end, his mother had begun feeding him various things to bring about changes. Changes she could track, such as vision, regeneration from damage, resistance to toxins—anything that she could attribute to a specific animal, catch, and then feed him.

     Not faulting her for curiosity, but instead praising her for helping him to develop his gift, Vince now had a room full of cured meat.

     As well as a very healthy and stronger-than-normal body.

     He trained that body with the sword, his mind with the knowledge his parents had passed down to him, and his… whatever it was, with the genetic sampling of other creatures.

     Settling down to his “breakfast” routine, he began carving out chunks of each and every type of meat in his cellar, and ate it right there.

     Eating more than his fill, Vince managed to pull himself out of the cellar before he made himself sick.

     He pulled out enough from the larder for a breakfast for Fes when she got up, and set it out on the table. There was no way she could miss the sight of it, let alone not smell it.

     Her sense of smell is almost better than my own.

     He left his home quietly after collecting his “bathroom kit.” No reason to look like a wild bushman if you didn’t have to. Today would be a good day to get rid of the facial hair that had sprung up during the trip.

     The kit also contained soap, which he hadn’t taken with him, a hand towel to scrub the grit and dirt out, and a large bath towel to dry himself with.

     He walked in the silence of the dawn to the nearby creek. He hadn’t been able to wash himself in weeks, and was starting to feel more like an animal than a man.

     Fresh and safe water wasn’t bountiful in the Wastes.

     Not to mention he’d need to check the condition of the creek and make sure the water was flowing cleanly. Stagnant water was the quickest way to setting himself up for a future failure.

     He heard the water long before he saw it. The sound of it assured him that nothing had changed.

     One less thing to fix before we have to head into town and register the partial success.

     The guild of Rangers would be expecting to hear from him. Their ability to negotiate contracts was built on dependability and transparency.

     He’d catch a five-gold standard fine for not completing his mission, but it would be refunded if the East Coast arm of the guild reported the arrival of the clients.

     Vince felt the anger building in his chest for his mission choice. He berated himself for taking an escort mission.

     They never worked out for him and he knew it.

     Pulling his shirt up over his head, he immediately worked to clear his head.

     He dropped his pants, ripped his socks off, and wriggled himself out of his boots. Dropping his shaver atop his pants, he clutched the soap and hand towel. He was ready. And to clear his head instantly, he dove into the frigid water.

     It wasn’t ice water, really, but it wasn’t far from it.

     Spluttering as he surfaced, he began to lather himself up. He was a Ranger, not a polar bear.

     Dirty polar bear. With an Orc… girlfriend? Slave? Sex buddy?

     Thankfully, the cold water did its job—both to keep his mind clear of anger and other distractions. Like the Orc he’d started thinking about.

     What do I do with her? I have to go into town and check in with the guild. Does she wait here? Do I take her with me? If I do, she’ll have to wear a collar. Would she wear one?

     Law for both the West and East Coasts was that all non-humans needed to be wearing a slave collar. The magic inherent to them prevented the wearer from doing anything outside of the rules placed on them by the owner of the collar.

     He’d found a number of broken collars in the woods. Unfortunately, many an owner would send a slave to simply… die in the woods. He’d encountered a few as they died, even.

     Trying to render them any aid at all would force them to turn violent.

     They were under orders to die, after all.

     Most of the collars had had the appearance of being whole and intact. Functioning.

     Except they weren’t. Since the order was carried out successfully, the collar would show a positive result, but no longer have any power or spelled rules.

     Frowning at the thoughts and coming to no answer, Vince set it aside for now. Taking a deep, bracing breath, he dunked himself under the icy water, washing off the soap and lingering trail dirt.

     Popping back up above the water after several seconds, Vince let out an explosive breath.

     “Good. No stink. Clean,” Fes said from the bank. She was squatting down next to his clothes, her fingers moving through them disinterestedly.

     Vince was awful at Orcish, apparently. Fes had told him so many times. Truth of the matter was he had no ear or tongue for it.

     He was awful at it. Truly awful.

     Thankfully, she seemed well suited to learning English. Her vocabulary expanded every day, and he thought she’d have it mastered relatively quickly at the rate she was moving.

     “Being wounded does tend to make one stink,” Vince agreed. Splashing over to the bank, he set down his hand towel on a flat rock, the soap going down atop it.

     Fes grunted and watched him. Her eyes trailed down his body and then back up with a carnivorous eye.

     “Wound good. Look good,” Fes claimed. She reached out with two fingers and brushed them along the healing skin. His skin prickled quickly at her gentle touch.

     The wound itself looked far more like an angry scar by now, and it pulled at his skin when he moved.

     That’d fade with time, though.

     “Glad you approve,” Vince said, picking up the towel and starting to dry himself off.

     Fes nodded her head and then stood up. In a few quick movements, she was naked.

     The entire time they had traveled, she’d never once removed her clothing. She’d been insistent that he strip for her, but he’d never forced the same stipulation on her. During their sexual romps or otherwise.

     In fact, they’d never even kissed or spoken of their nightly sessions.

     Picking up the soap and used washcloth with her right hand, she unbound her hair with the left.

     Blue-black hair fell around her shoulders and face in a shower.

     Vince couldn’t help but inspect her green body with a touch of admiration.

     And regret that he’d waited this long to get the view he was now afforded.

     Despite knowing she was an Orc, he could only see a woman with green skin. Everything about her was more or less human. She only happened to be stronger, green, and have a few extra teeth.

     That green muscular body was dirty, stained with the road, and the world.

     And sexy as hell. An alpha predator in her prime. Lean and fit.

     She didn’t have an hourglass figure or an impressive bust, but she was put together in a lovely way. Slim but with a decent waist, athletic and incredibly toned, but still a bit more than a handful in the chest.

     Letting his eyes roll over her like a starved wolf eying a steak, he felt the heat return to him quickly.

     Fes didn’t notice the visual assault he launched at her. Or if she did, she didn’t care.

     Instead, she set about washing herself clean, mimicking the same things he’d been doing but minutes ago.

     She was watching.

     “I need to head into town. City. Village. I have to tell the guild what happened with my clients. Tell them the result of my mission. Let them know what happened,” Vince said, taking the opportunity to watch her bathe.

     He’d developed a tendency of overexplaining things to her. It’d help her vocabulary, he was sure, but it would create problems further down the road if he didn’t keep it from becoming a long-term habit.

     “I understand. Fes go with Vince.”

     Fes turned around, watching him as he watched her. His eyes immediately moved to her hands as they lathered up her underarms and chest.

     “Okay. You’ll have to wear a fake collar. All non-humans have to wear a collar,” Vince said apologetically.

     “No collar. No slave. Fes,” declared the woman. Her eyes hardened a bit, and she turned to the side as if contemplating putting her back to him.

     “No collar. Fake collar. Fes not a slave. Fes is Fes,” Vince agreed.

     “Fake collar?”

     “Lie collar,” Vince tried instead.

     Fes blinked at that, her mind probably sorting through the words she knew. Suddenly she looked at him and gave him a small smile.

     “Lie collar, yes. Fes is Fes. Fes go with Vince,” Fes agreed.

     “Great. We’ll pick it up when we’re done here,” Vince answered, his eyes roaming down her body again.

     Fes apparently had noticed by this point and flicked water at him. She gave him a smirk when his eyes finally returned to her face.

     “Sorry, look good,” Vince apologized, imitating her earlier proclamation over his healing wound.

     “Fes look good?”

     “Yep, Fes look good. Very good.”

     Unbelievably, the warrior woman’s face became a darker shade of green. Turning her back to him, she went about her business.

     Fuck it.

     Standing up, Vince dropped the towel in a dry spot on the bank and waited.

     Fes finished up and made her way back to her clothes. She eyed him warily now after the way he’d watched her.

     Her eyes were tracking his midsection, as if they were about to start fighting and she wanted to be able to react accordingly.

     “Fes,” Vince said softly when she came close.

     Her eyes jumped from his torso to his eyes.

     Not waiting for an invitation—or to give her one, because she probably wouldn’t understand it anyways—he finally made a move of his own.

     Reaching out, he placed one hand on the side of her jaw and then leaned in close to her.

     Her response was no response. She froze rock solid. Still as a statue as he pressed his lips to hers.

     Her lips were warm and soft, a little cracked, and one corner had a cut, but the feeling of her mouth was wonderful.

     Slipping an arm around her hips, he kissed her deeply, before tilting her backwards towards the towel he’d laid out.

     Firm hands came up to clutch his shoulders as he eased her down into the fabric. Settling gently atop her, he continued to kiss her.

     Moving his hands gently, slowly, he started to explore her body, caressing and flowing over her smooth skin like the wind.

     Turning his head an inch to the side, he caught her pointed ear and bit into it carefully. The soft flesh was warm between his lips as he tugged at it.

     “Vince, Fes. Fes. Fes is…” panted the Orc.

     Breathing out heavily into her ear, he lifted his knees and tried to spread her legs apart.

     Fes shivered, her strong fingers digging into his shoulders. She allowed her legs to spread wide after a moment of hesitation, her ankles coming up to rest behind his thighs and pull him in closer.

     Angling his shaft, he managed to find her slit on the first try. Taking in a breath, he bit at her ear again. Moving his hips forward, he plunged himself into her in one smooth stroke.

     Fes took in a quick breath. Her ankles pulled at him even as she turned her head to press her face into his neck.

     Vince held himself up with his forearms resting on either side of her head. Giving the tip of her pointed green ear a nibble, he started to work himself in and out of her.

     Slow and cautious, he could only bask in the roaring heat of her insides. Her body as a whole was rapidly heating up, despite having been in the snow runoff only minutes before.

     Truthfully, he had to fight against Fes more than his own desires. She seemed as if she wanted to drive him straight into sexual abandon. Her teeth and lips worked furiously at his throat and neck. Her heels and ankles pulled on his legs when he moved forward. As if she wanted him to move faster and harder.

     To take her.

     Growling a little under his breath, he turned his face into hers and kissed her fiercely, keeping his own rhythm and pace.

     Fes responded immediately, her mouth opening and her teeth and tusks biting at his lips. She gouged her fingers into his back, dragging them down forcefully.

     Vince only kissed her in the same way he had earlier, refused to change speed, and pressed in closer to her.

     Fucking wasn’t his goal right now. He’d done that plenty enough to know the difference between that and what he wanted.

     She calmed down, albeit slowly. Apparently it finally sank in when he didn’t respond in the way she expected to her actions. Instead, she began moving in time with him.

     She started to move in sync with his body.

     Her hips slid forward and back as he thrust into her.

     Callused and tender hands pressed into his back without the urgency that they had previously. Now they held him.

     Her thighs and ankles were glued to him now, instead of pulling at him.

     Strong limbs melded to him instead of trying to dictate a pace.

     Pulling back from her face, he switched his weight to his hands instead of his forearms.

     Slowly, he built up his momentum, his speed, his strength. Fes’s cheeks darkened as her eyes began to lose focus as he worked.

     Letting his control slip as he got closer to release, his empathic gift got away from him.

     Shocking in its intensity, he felt every emotion that poured out of the woman beneath him. Most of it flew by him before he could identify it, but there was one overwhelming feeling he couldn’t overlook.

     A feeling of acceptance and completion.

     Grinding his hips into her, Vince felt himself spill his seed into her fiery depths.

     The empathic link shut off at the same time Fes smashed her face into his, kissing him with a passion he hadn’t expected.

     Grunting, he collapsed atop her, kissing her hungrily.

     In time, and after his loins were done filling her, he pulled back from her face. Gasping for breath, he pressed his forehead to hers.

     With a quick kiss to her lips, he rolled off of her. He reached out to his side and rested a hand on her hip and stared up at the blue sky.

     Gotta wash up again.

     Chapter 4

     It took five days to get to Knight’s Ferry from Vince’s home, most of which was trail hiking.

     The trip, normally dull and boring, wasn’t unpleasant in the least with Fes as his companion.

     Days were spent talking, building on Fes’s vocabulary, and giving her the right set of expectations for where they were going.

     Evenings were interesting with the change that had occurred down at the creek. Sometimes she’d be on top, other times he’d be on top. It was a tossup of who managed to wrestle the other one to the ground first.

     Knight’s Ferry was as close to the big cities as Vince ever really wanted to get. The location acted as a perfect outpost for him to purchase supplies, make sales, and pick up contracts sent from the local Ranger headquarters.

     When the Wastes had been created, it had been at the height of the war in Europe. This had left a serious population gap between men and women, as well as fracturing what control the military could have provided during such a catastrophe.

     All of this had led to the simple fact that the big cities became sprawling slums and neighborhood turf wars were dominated by women.

     Eventually, the cities became deserted or became more feudal-like, as it was clear much of the world was reverting to an earlier place on the technological timeline.

     There wasn’t really a need for bankers, scientists, or artists. Guns fell out of favor when ammunition ran dry in the first several years. As technology collapsed, no one was making new guns or ammunition.

     Swords, polearms, axes, all the old accoutrements of war made a rapid comeback.

     In that first decade, the world had turned itself into an appalling approximation of medieval territories reporting up to a neighborhood “baron.”

     From these barons eventually rose the government that loosely governed the West Coast. A collection of barons or baronesses who answered to a count or countess, who in turn reported to a council of dukes or duchesses. From Baja all the way to Alaska, that was how it was ruled.

     They’d called themselves “The Government of the Western States” with a complete lack of creativity. Most called it The West or The Government.

     A similar and separate situation had occurred in and on the eastern seaboard. They’d ended up with a king rather than a council, however.

     Eventually people had begun making the long-distance journeys between the two would-be kingdoms. The Rangers had been born from that need.

     Membership was voluntary and required a certification. On top of that, there were examinations and tests to determine if you were fit for membership.

     No training was provided by the guild. Membership in the guild came at a contracted percentage of every mission being handed over.

     The guild kept their people in line while providing contracts. They were also swift in distributing justice to their members.

     For these reasons, the Rangers were trusted completely to be employed.

     Trying to hire someone outside of the guild was a sure way to get your throat slit in the Wastes during the night.

     Or so the guild would have you believe.

     Fes stayed at his side when they entered Knight’s Ferry, her head moving on a swivel to track everyone and take in everything at the same time.

     Unthinkingly, she reached up and adjusted the thick silver slave collar that rested on her collarbones. It wrapped around her neck in a way that would deprive her of oxygen if she disobeyed.

     Well, that was what it would have done, if it had been a working collar. Which it wasn’t.

     Vince motioned to the large two-story building to one side of the cracked pavement road.

     “We’re in there for a few minutes. I need to report in, and then we’ll go hit the merchants’ square,” Vince whispered.

     Fes followed the direction of his fingers and nodded her head. “Fes will remain at your side.”

     Nodding to that, Vince walked in through the front door and stopped for the door guard.

     Holding out his Ranger license, Vince only had to wait a few seconds. Then he was ushered in without a word.

     Ignoring the common room, the bar, and job board, as well as everyone inside, Vince went straight to the service counter.

     An older man of perhaps forty winters sat with an open ledger in front of him.

     Withdrawing two stacks of five standards each from the pouch at his waist, he set it down atop the ledger along with his license.

     “Partial completion. Clients made it to the Mississippi River fort. I was wounded by an ambush of gators. Took one Orc warrior woman as a slave on the return trip. Registering her as mine,” Vince said.

     Five coins were a penalty for a non-completion of his contract, and the over five coins were to register Fes.

     “Name?” the man said, flipping over Vince’s license.

     “Fes.”

     The clerk grunted and reached down beneath the counter. Then his hands came back up with a small iron stamp. Popping open a container to his left, the clerk pressed the iron into the sponge inside and then pressed it to Vince’s license.

     Closing the container, the man dropped the iron back into whatever he’d pulled it out of below the counter.

     Sliding the wooden license to one side, the clerk pulled out a paper from a folder and then rapidly filled it out.

     Spinning the paper around, he slid it in front of Vince.

     A quick signature on Vince’s part and Fes was registered.

     The clerk then picked up the Ranger license and wiped a piece of cloth over the wood. A symbol had appeared on the back. Exactly where the clerk had pressed the iron. A big letter O with a small S next to it.

     “You’ll be notified if the clients report in and the penalty will be refunded. Anything else?” the clerk asked, looking up at Vince.

     “Nope, thank you.”

     Turning on his heel, Vince left as quickly as he’d come in. He didn’t really want to look at contracts right now. His body didn’t quite feel at one hundred percent even though he knew he was healed.

     Exiting the building, they stood on the cracked and broken sidewalk.

     “What now?” Fes asked, her eyes sweeping up one side of the street and then the other.

     “Clothes and armor for you. Maybe get something a bit more… balanced than that I-beam of yours. You handled it well, but I I’m betting you’d be better with a weapon that required less work,” Vince answered. Turning to the right, he began walking down the street towards the merchant quarter.

     Fes scrunched up her nose in obvious distaste.

     “Small sword for small people.”

     “No, a big sword. Larger variant of the longsword. Trust me. Clothes and armor first.”

     Fes only nodded her head, falling in beside him.

     Vince kept himself on alert as they walked along the boulevard. Violence in Knight’s Ferry was rare, but not unheard of.

     Everyone was an enemy until proved otherwise. This world wasn’t for the faint of heart.

     The short time it took them to get to the tailor was thankfully uneventful. A few people took in an eyeful of Fes, but that wasn’t completely unexpected.

     Orcs were a little uncommon. Orc women more so.

     Clothes shopping with Fes was blessedly swift. She accepted everything he set out to purchase for her with barely a nod.

     Four sets of clothing and a few coins later and they were on their way back into the street.

     “Next up, armor. Can’t have you running around in just clothes,” Vince said, indicating the blacksmith several doors down from the tailor.

     “Why? Armor not right. If I get hit, I lose,” Fes grumbled.

     “Because I don’t want you to get hit? Honor is for the dead and pride is a commodity.”

     “You don’t want Fes to lose.”

     “No, I don’t. I want Fes to grow old and die when her heart gives out,” Vince said, shaking his head.

     Fes said nothing more, following Vince into the blacksmith shop.

     A Dwarf with a slave collar stepped out from behind a counter and peered up at him.

     “Vinny, come to finally get some real armor, eh? None of that stupid cow skin? Didn’t help the cow none, why would it help you?” shouted the dwarf.

     “Deskil. Good to see you. Loud as ever. How’s Minnie?” Vince asked, holding out his hand to the diminutive blacksmith.

     “Speaking of her, I’m not nearly half as loud as the ol’ ball and chain. Just the other night I had her squealing for hours until the—”

     A door banged open along the back wall, and a woman stepped out in the common room.

     She was on the plump side, and the hard work she put in was starting to show in her face and hair.

     “Another word, Deskil, and I’ll have you making pots and pans for months,” she threatened with a warm smile.

     “Oh, love, my honey bunch, buttercup, sweetums, you know I’m only bragging,” Deskil responded, beaming up at the woman.

     As a pair, they seemed ill fit at first glance.

     Minnie had to be in her mid-thirties, and Deskil, only he knew. Dwarves lived considerably longer than humans.

     Vince smiled, watching them get wound up. “Minnie bought him about a decade ago at the auction. She runs the shop, he makes the equipment,” Vince said under his breath to Fes.

     Fes grunted at his explanation.

     Minnie suddenly looked to Vince and gave him a bright smile. “Who’s this?”

     “This is Fes. I… picked her up in the Wastes,” Vince explained, stepping to the side, one hand held up towards Fes.

     “Fes?” Deskil rumbled. His bushy eyebrows came down over his eyes. It looked like he wanted to say more but held his tongue.

     The Orc woman nodded her head once at the two, silent.

     “She, uh, she doesn’t talk much, but she’s picking up the language quick. Came in to pick up some armor for her. Can’t have her running around with me without protection, after all.”

     Vince walked over to one of the wooden mannequins that lined the wall. Reaching out, he fingered the chainmail that it wore.

     “With her strength, I was thinking a mail hauberk. Wrists to knees. Matching gambeson, of course.”

     “Course. Makes sense. I’ve got something in mind. One adjustment, probably. Her chest is a bit bigger. Could walk out with the mail today in a few hours, or come back before you head out for the evening. Anything else?” Deskil asked, his mind having made a choice and setting it aside.

     “Need a longsword just shy of being a great sword. Preferably one that she can wield one-handed but not hit the ground from a guard pose,” Vince offered up, his eyes moving to the side wall where the swords were.

     “Oh, we can definitely do that. Again, I think I have something you can take home with ya today. She’ll be a force to be reckoned with. I take it you won’t need that… thing anymore?” Deskil asked, pointing at the freakish sword strapped to Fes’s back.

     Fes looked to him but said nothing. She was letting him make the choice.

     He knew, knew it without using his empathic gift, that even if she never swung it again, she’d still wish to keep it.

     “We’ll be keeping it. All in price?” Vince said turning to the dwarf.

     “Call it twelve for the whole thing and you’ve got a deal.”

     Damn. That’s… quite a bit.

     Then again, he knew that Deskil was probably already giving him a low price.

     He also knew he had a surplus of captured prize weapons from things he’d killed in the Wastes. He’d have to pack up a good portion of them and bring them in and get his money back.

     It wasn’t as if he were poor, though. His parents had left him with near five thousand standards. And that was what they had buried under a cement block in his home. In the local bank, his parents had two thousand standards available to him.

     He’d added another three thousand to that number in the bank through his various contracts and being frugal with selling his prizes.

     Just collecting dust anyways. Too many swords for one man.

     Unless someone wanted to contract the purchase of, say, werewolf teeth, he had no reason to sell any from his giant bag of werewolf teeth that was in his trophy room.

     “Done,” Vince said, not wanting to haggle. Pulling the coins out of a flat purse strapped to the inside of his armor, he set them down on the counter. “We’ll be around to pick it up later. We won’t be st—”

     “Staying the night, I know. You never did, never will. Right, no time like the present,” chuckled the dwarf. Stumping towards a table, he began rubbing his hands together.

     Minnie watched the Dwarf with a smile before turning back to Vince.

     She mouthed a silent ‘thank you’ and then went back to the office in the back.

     Vince turned and left the blacksmith shop, pulling Fes along with him.

     “They don’t get as much business as they should. People seem to think Deskil makes inferior equipment. Contrary to that belief, I think his work is phenomenal.”

     Fes once more said nothing. She had nothing to add, so she said nothing.

     “That leaves us with some time to kill. Anything you want to see?” Vince asked the Orc, looking over to her.

     “Auction,” came the immediate response.

     “We could do that. Never really been to one. I’ve seen them in passing, but… it’s one thing to kill a Wastelander in the Wastes. It’s another to sell them into slavery,” Vince said, shaking his head. Turning to the left, they set off down the boulevard again.

     “You don’t sell or buy?” Fes asked.

     “No. I don’t.”

     Silence settled down between them. Comfortably so.

     As the road turned a bit, Vince could see the auction square up ahead. It was placed next to the river since a lot of slavers shipped everything by boat. Knight’s Ferry had a large auction for a town that wasn’t that big.

     Mostly because the slavers didn’t want to risk trying to get their merchandise into a bigger town. The auction guild invested here instead.

     When the government had failed, all the dams and agriculture siphons on the river had collapsed. The Stanislaus River was now very much a deep and free-flowing river. All the way to the San Joaquin.

     The slaves would be unloaded from the boats and lined up on the platform right there, then sold.

     The auction began the same time every day and would go until every slave had been up on the auction block. Sometimes there were only a few, sometimes there would be a large number.

     All depended on what they caught and brought in.

     Fresh catch of the day, Vince mused bitterly as his eyes took in the slaves.

     Having started sometime earlier, the auction was well past the halfway point.

     There would only be a few slaves that would catch high prices at the start. Most of the valued or noteworthy ones would be in the last twenty-five percent.

     It kept people around from start to finish that way.

     Even now, the specimen being sold looked little more than what could be used for housework with how malnourished it was.

     “Sold!” bellowed the auctioneer. The gavel clacked twice and the slave disappeared from sight before Vince had even gotten a good look at them.

     “So many,” Fes said quietly. At least thirty more slaves were lined up waiting for their turn.

     “Yeah, the Wastes are huge. You wouldn’t think it, but there’s some proof out there that humankind might actually be outnumbered. Some of these could be non-sales from other cities. On top of that, they could be resales. The auction doesn’t act as an intermediary. They purchase everything outright and then work to sell it at a profit. If they don’t see a sale here today, it gets shipped elsewhere to try again,” Vince explained.

     “It?” Fes sneered, her eyes latching to his face.

     Vince sighed and pressed a hand to his forehead. “Them. They.”

     Fes nodded to that and she visibly relaxed. She wore her emotions on her sleeve.

     “Next on auction is a Dryad. While we can’t confirm this, we believe she’s an ash Dryad. A Meliae,” the auctioneer called to the crowd.

     A nude woman was dragged forward from the line to stand before the crowd front and center.

     “She was caught only this morning. In fact, we believe she’s never planted a tree. If you can get her to plant a tree, she’ll be yours for as long as the tree lives. I guarantee she’s untouched as well, as she was picked up by a well-established acquisition agent. Plant your seed and have her make it grow,” crooned the seller.

     All around him, the people who had seemed interested were no longer so.

     “Like that’d happen—”

     “—dead in the week. Waste of money, I s—”

     “Good for a fuck, and then bury it—”

     “—move on already. It’s garbage—”

     Vince frowned and looked up to the Dryad.

     She was pretty, as were all of her kind. High cheekbones with a full mouth and soft green eyes. Her face had a tenderness that invited kindness.

     The bruises and cuts from what he could only assume came from her capture diminished the wonder in the world.

     She had a skin tone that ran towards being a light tan. As the sun hit her at certain angles, her flesh almost shimmered green.

     Her pale white hair was cut short, hanging limply at the sides of her face. Topping out at five foot one, her bust size was impressive for her build. It would’ve been impressive on a six-foot woman, in truth. A thin waist and rounded hips gave her an hourglass figure that only a fantasy could produce.

     Much as everyone had said, they’d be willing to buy her if to bed her, only to bury her when she refused to plant her tree.

     A Dryad without a tree was a plant without soil. They were already dying.

     “As a reminder, don’t attempt to use the slave collar to force a tree planting. The tree dies within the hour, followed by the Dryad. Starting bid at ten standards.” With a clack of the gavel, the auction began.

     “Fifteen.”

     “Twenty.”

     “Twenty-five.”

     “Twenty-six.”

     “Thirty.”

     Vince felt a pang of regret for the little thing. Her life would be a short, ugly thing.

     Fes pulled at his forearm.

     Turning to the Orc woman, he raised his eyebrows.

     “Seed?” asked Fes.

     “Thirty-two—”

     “Ah, yeah. Seed. Have her grow the seed,” Vince said with a vague hand gesture at the ground, his eyes moving back to the auction.

     “Seed. Grow seed,” murmured Fes. “Buy her. Buy the seed grower, Vince,” Fes grumbled at him, her hand gripping his forearm more firmly.

     “Thirty-five—”

     “Err, what?” Vince asked, confused.

     “Forty—”

     “Buy the seed grower. Vince no regret,” Fes promised.

     Sighing, Vince looked back to the auction once more.

     The bids had stopped. Forty standards for a week of time with a Dryad.

     “Going once—”

     Vince hesitated. He didn’t want to buy the Dryad, and wasn’t sure what he would do with her even if he did buy her.

     “Twice—”

     The green eyes of the Dryad found his through the crowd. Before he could stop it, his empathic gift leapt free of him and enveloped the creature.

     Fear, pain, humiliation, hopelessness. An insurmountable wave of despair.

     “Vince… for Fes?” asked the Orc.

     Fes’s question snapped him free. The way she posed that question and his glimpse into the mind of the Dryad had him raise his hand immediately. “Forty-five.”

     “Fif—”

     “Sixty,” Vince said, interrupting the other man mid bid.

     There was no counter to that. In acting the way he did, he gave the impression that he would be willing to keep going.

     “Once. Twice. Sold!” shouted the auctioneer.

     Vince pressed his lips into a thin line and left the crowd. He’d have to use one of the few bank notes he kept on his person. He mostly used them for trade in towns and cities. He’d have to use one to purchase the Dryad. Sixty standards was more than he had on him in hard currency.

     He moved towards the pickup and payment table to complete the transaction for the Dryad.

     Fingering out a bank note from an inside fold of his armor, he glanced over it. It was set for one-hundred standards, which meant they’d be paying him forty in return, minus a tendering fee.

     The Dryad he’d bought stood next to the table, her eyes downcast towards the ground.

     Vince flipped the bank note and his Ranger’s license onto the table before the auction clerk could say a word.

     “Forty in return,” Vince stated.

     “Hmph.” The clerk picked up the note and Vince’s license, then checked the authorizations. Meeting whatever requirements he had, he then picked up two sheets of paper. “Five standards in fees. Five more for the services. Registration will be set without a name. Be sure to update it if she lives through the week. One moment.”

     Fes had stepped up to the Dryad and immediately unchained her.

     “Hey, you can’t—” started one of the guards.

     “Can’t what? Can’t take over my property? I’ve already paid,” Vince hissed at the man.

     Not used to having someone question him, the guard fell silent. Fes pulled the Dryad off to the side, placing it between Vince and herself.

     Vince noted two men off to one side. He vaguely remembered them from another visit.

     They’d been around the last time he was here, scowling and throwing dirty looks at every non-human they could see.

     Now they were a group of five, sequestered at the back of the auction. Even now, one was watching Vince.

     Before he could focus in on the watcher, they turned their head away.

     “Here.” The clerk shoved the license back into Vince’s hand, jarring him back into his current situation.

     An uppercase D and a lowercase S were now burned into it next to the mark for Fes. Then the man slid five rows of standards across the table to Vince. Not bothering to count it, he simply opened his waist purse and swept them inside. “Paperwork will be filed this evening with the registrar and the Ranger guild. Thank you. Next!”

     Turning on his heel, Vince slid an arm around the Dryad and escorted her back towards the clothing shop.

     “Just… tolerate this for a little bit longer. We’ll get you some clothes from the tailor and be on our way,” Vince whispered under his breath.

     The Dryad lifted her eyes and looked into his soul with that gaze. Eyes the color of fresh leaves weighed him.

     Just as quickly, the Dryad looked back down to ground. Dismissing his words.

     “Tailor, blacksmith, general store, home. Thinking our return trip may go a bit slower now, Fes,” Vince said, listing out the best plan he could come up.

     “No regret, Vince. Fes promises it,” soothed the warrior.

     “It’s fine, Fes. It’s fine. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

     Hopefully.

     Chapter 5

     Three days into the return journey and they were barely past the halfway mark. It’d be another three or four assuming the Dryad could keep her current pace. Vince didn’t figure that would be likely, since she’d probably fall down and die in a day or two.

     An unplanted Dryad didn’t have long and only withered as time went on.

     Her bright white hair had faded to a dull gray, her skin becoming ashen, and her eyes turning sunken.

     Vince felt pity welling up inside him as he watched the Dryad across the faint warmth of the campfire. It was morning of their fourth day and they’d be setting a similar pace to previous days.

     She didn’t move much. She just sat there listlessly, her eyes staring into the dying coals of the fire.

     “Feel like you could eat something? Anything? Maybe a little water?” Vince asked her.

     Not looking up at him, she shook her head woodenly.

     “If you feel like you can hold something down, let me know.”

     Vince kept himself from sighing. Barely.

     Watching her wither into nothing. What a messed-up situation.

     Fes patted the Dryad on the head as she went about getting into her new clothes and armor. The warrior woman had been dubious about the armor at first, but then had immediately grown comfortable in it.

     That like had only grown again when she’d realized she lost little to no movement. Especially so when she began working with her new blade. Vince couldn’t help but feel a touch nervous with how quick Fes could rip the sword through the air with maximum force.

     He was still pretty sure he could take her in a fight, but it wouldn’t be so easy now. At all.

     The part he personally wasn’t used to was the fact that Fes still wanted to have their nightly fun. Despite the Dryad being there. And watching.

     The entire time.

     The first night, the little tree spirit had been shocked when Fes had mauled him and then mounted him. She’d watched wide-eyed and unmoving.

     Vince had to wonder if she thought it would have been her on her back instead of him. Especially since that was the expectation of what she had been bought for by almost everyone else there.

     The second night, he’d managed to pin Fes to the ground. It’d been awkward with the Dryad there, but he’d gotten over it. It was that or get mounted again.

     By the third night, the Dryad either didn’t care or was too weak to care.

     As tactless as it sounds, I could always eat her. I’m sure there’s something unique about her that would help me.

     The thought didn’t appeal to him. In truth, it rather unnerved him. But his efficient personality wanted to assuage what little it could of the money it had cost to buy her.

     Distancing himself from the thought, he made his final preparations to leave. The road waited. Eating her would be a last resort, and he’d cross that bridge when it came.

     Once everything was good and ready, he slipped a hand under the Dryad’s arm and eased her to her feet.

     “Come along, little tree. It’s time for us to away. Hopefully we can make it home before… well, before.”

     Vince could only regret the fact that he didn’t have the means to break the slave collar off of her. It would restrict her from escaping, and at a certain distance begin to choke the life out of her.

     Many a slave had simply run to the extreme edge of the boundary and committed suicide in that fashion before an order could be given to not do that.

     Until he got her home, there’d be no way to get the collar off. As it was, he was pretty sure he’d signed her death warrant by buying her. Though at least if she died on the way, she could do it far from human civilization, unviolated, and in relative peace.

     With a little encouragement, the Dryad started to put one foot in front of the other. Fes nodded to Vince and fell in a few steps behind the Dryad. Vince moved up to take point.

     They’d only progressed maybe an hour down the road when Vince had a strange feeling creeping over him.

     Looking over his shoulder, he checked and found Fes and the Dryad marching along behind him. Focusing on the path in front of him, he let his eyes unfocus, trying to pick out anything that didn’t fit the pattern of the road.

     The same moment he caught sight of someone in the foliage next to the road, an attractive woman stepped out within arm’s reach of him.

     There was no reason for someone to be out this far. Especially to make an entrance like she did.

     His actions from Knight’s Ferry came back to him. He’d flashed money in a public fashion. This was all his fault.

     He made a purchase that would have put a dent in anyone’s pocket. Did so with a bank note and asked for change.

     Careless.

     Grasping the hilt of his saber, Vince unsheathed and swung in the same motion. The speed of the attack caught the woman off guard.

     So much so, that it wasn’t until his blade exited the left side of her neck with a wet swish that she realized her error.

     “To the rear!” Vince called out, taking several steps backwards. Putting himself close to the Dryad.

     The headless corpse of the woman fell to its knees and then lay still. Blood spurted from the stump with each beat of her heart.

     Three men rushed at him, materializing from the same area the woman had stepped out from. They were all wearing brown leathers and had their swords out.

     A deep-throated yell from behind was his only indicator that Fes was engaged as well.

     “Dryad, get out of here, keep yourself safe. Come back when it’s over,” Vince called out.

     Stepping forward, Vince skewered one of the men through the throat. Backpedaling once more, he was left with two attackers. Both seemed very unsure about the whole thing now that they’d already suffered two causalities.

     Not wasting the time for witty banter or anything else so cliché, Vince went on the attack.

     Flashing his saber out in a feint at the man on the right, Vince stepped to the left and brought his sword back around towards the man on the left.

     The man on the right fell backwards while Vince’s sword slammed into the man on the left’s forward leg.

     Crossing his feet one over the other to move with the strike, Vince drove his left hand into the now wounded man’s side.

     Dropping to his unwounded knee, the would-be bandit tried to lift his weapon to defend himself.

     Stepping in close, Vince wrapped his arm around the man’s head and leaned it backwards, sliding his saber forward at the same time.

     Skin parted and the sound of a whistling windpipe gurgling filled the air as Vince’s saber slid through the man’s stretched neck.

     Dropping the dying man, Vince moved towards the last attacker in front of him.

     Apparently, the bandit had suddenly realized the error of his ways and started to turn around.

     Unsheathing a throwing knife from his belt, Vince swept his left hand forward. The blade flipped end over end to embed itself in the back of the man’s knee. The strength of the throw buried it into flesh up to the handle.

     Collapsing to his hands and knees, the man turned his head to see Vince closing in on him.

     “Please, ha—” the man started, before Vince’s blade speared through his heart. Pulling the blade back out, Vince turned to see what was going on with Fes and the Dryad.

     The edge of a blade slid along his hardened leather breastplate and then slammed into his collarbone. Skittering off the bone, the blade burrowed underneath it and then into him.

     Reaching up, Vince struck the blade from the hand of the man who had tried to stab him in the back and brought his saber around.

     Catching the man in the armpit, Vince’s saber tore through the joint and came out the top, severing the arm entirely.

     Screaming, the bandit fell to his knees, his right hand clasping at the missing limb.

     Vince smashed the hilt of his blade into the man’s windpipe, crushing it. He’d die either from the blood loss or the inability to breathe.

     Reaching up, he unhooked a strap of his armor and exposed the upper part of his chest. Vince frowned at the bloody gash, then pressed his hand to the wound firmly and turned his gaze on Fes. He saw three dead bandits around the warrior. Two nearly split in half.

     She was in the process of withdrawing her blade from the third’s sternum. Her eyes were blazing when she unstuck the blade and turned to find Vince watching her.

     “Fourth go—” she nearly shouted, before her eyes fell on the armless dying man on the ground in front of Vince. “Ah, good.”

     Vince nodded once and then looked to the surrounding flora. “Dryad? Damn, we really need to get her to tell us her name. Errr, Meliae?” Vince tried.

     Creeping out of a low bush, the Dryad came into view. Unharmed and whole.

     Whole as a dying Dryad can be, at least.

     “Vince, you wounded,” Fes stated, coming up to him. She’d re-sheathed her blade and her hands immediately came up to his chest.

     “Yeah, he got me. Would have put it in my spine if I hadn’t turned around,” Vince explained. Lifting one hand to look at the wound, he was shocked at the amount of blood that flowed out. “Damn.”

     Pressing his hand as firmly to the wound as he possible could, Vince sat himself down on the ground. He wasn’t sure if he could keep himself standing if it got worse, despite wanting to keep the wound much higher than his feet. “Get a dressing out for me, Fes? I’m not a master of anatomy, but I’m fairly sure there’s a vein in there somewhere. So long as it didn’t get nicked, this’ll be fine in no time. If it did… bury me somewhere nice.”

     Fes pulled her pack from her shoulder and bent over it, rooting around for the requested bandage.

     Vince looked to the Dryad as she sidled closer to him. She had a curious look. Almost like he imagined someone would look if they’d been caught doing something wrong.

     He gave her a weary smile.

     Maybe she blames herself.

     “Don’t blame yourself for me catching that sword,” Vince said. “I could have handled the auction better and not been so flashy. I let my anger over the situation get the better of me.”

     Blood started to seep from between his fingers, though it didn’t seem to be as bad as when he’d pulled his hand away. Dropping his saber at his side, Vince flexed his free hand.

     Maybe we got lucky after all and this is just a bleeder. Getting too many new scars as of late, though.

     Not paying attention, Vince was startled to realize the Dryad was nearly atop him. Her green eyes were staring into his face, her small hands halfway between her chest and his.

     Unable to stop himself, he felt his empathic power rise up and link into the Dryad.

     Curiosity, fear, shame, and guilt. Determination.

     Vince wanted to tell her it wasn’t her fault again. Instead, he felt his tongue stick to the roof of his mouth.

     In her right hand was a softly glowing seed pod. He’d seen them often enough in the wild to know what it was.

     Her eyes watched him, green and awake. The haze that had been hanging over her had dissipated.

     Tender, pale fingers picked at the hand covering the wound in his chest. Deciding to see what she’d do, he lifted his hand to give her access to it.

     Blood pumped out and flowed from the gash. He couldn’t tell if it was any better or worse, but he doubted releasing the pressure was helpful.

     Then the Dryad reached forward with her right hand and stuffed the seed pod into the wound. Using her left hand, she dragged the ball of her palm against his saber and then pushed her bloody palm atop his wound.

     Pushing firmly, she looked into his eyes and gave him a cautious smile.

     Nothing happened at first, and the only thing he could hear was Fes rooting around in her pack, muttering to herself. To him, it sounded like the contents of her pack had shifted around in the fracas and she was having a hard time finding anything.

     A warmth came into his arms and legs. In retrospect, he hadn’t even noticed it earlier, but he’d actually started to get cold. Never a good sign. Certainly not a sign of a fatal injury, but not a good one.

     Oddly enough, Vince felt like something was moving around inside him.

     “My tree grows,” the Dryad whispered, her eyes still staring into him unrelentingly.

     “Did… did you plant your tree in me?” Vince asked her.

     Before his very eyes, he watched as her skin gained a healthy glow. Her eyes cleared completely, her cheeks coloring.

     The brown-and-green shimmer to her coloring came back nearly immediately.

     “I did. Your blood reeks of strength. It empowers me. My tree can breathe through your veins. You are now my tree’s home.” Her voice was smooth, rich, strong. It was deeper than he’d expected for such a small frame.

     “I see. So… why? And also, you’re feeling talkative now?”

     “Your wound looked bad. You treated me kindly and didn’t use me as many would have. You have a relationship with your Orc that I don’t understand. Now that I can feel you…” The Dryad paused at that. A ticklish feeling in his brain came over him for a second. “I can tell that you’re a good person. Your body is different as well. You’re not completely human.” The Dryad tilted her head to the side.

     “I speak now because I choose to. Before you ask, I have no given name. I am me. I am Meliae.”

     Vince digested all that and found himself mostly at a loss.

     Then Fes was there, her face between himself and the Dryad, looking from him to her and back.

     “Seed grower safe, good. Good job, Vince. Seed grower healed Vince?” asked the Orc, seemingly unconcerned with the situation.

     “Yes, Fes. Vince is healed.” As if to demonstrate, Meliae lifted her hand from the bloody mess only to reveal smooth, clean skin.

     “Ah, good. Seed grower is healed, too. Good Meliae,” Fes said, giving Meliae a big smile and patting her on the head.

     Vince frowned as he felt things continue to shift around in his chest, stomach, and head. He wasn’t quite sure about having a tree growing inside him, or if it was even possible, but he couldn’t deny it’d happened. There was no mistaking that seed pod as anything but a seed pod.

     “Thanks, Meliae,” Vince said, patting the Dryad on the shoulder. “Alright, Fes. Let’s strip the bodies of anything of worth and dump them off to the side. The wolves will feast on their corpses and we’ll make coin on their belongings. As Father always said, waste not, want not.”

     Home was around the bend, so to speak. They’d picked up the pace since Meliae had recovered. What had looked like it might end up taking an extra three days to get home ended up being only one. They were even arriving as the sun rose.

     Meliae had really come alive in the days since. Her appetite had skyrocketed, and she’d started to vanish on occasion, only to show up with nuts, fruits, and wild vegetables.

     Meliae isn’t her name. She doesn’t have one.

     And yet they called her Meliae.

     In the days following her recovery, she’d become equally parts silent and talkative. Small talk and chitchat weren’t in her repertoire.

     Fes remained unrelenting in their nightly activities. Meliae never shied away from watching, yet never commented or spoke of it, either.

     Other than that, nothing changed that Vince could identify.

     Except the fact that he had a tree growing in him. At times, he could feel it when it shifted or twisted itself around. He could only assume it was expanding. It would need as much space as it could wring out of a human torso, and was contorting itself to do so.

     At least it caused him no discomfort. Well, he wasn’t sure about that. He couldn’t tell if the Dryad was blocking discomfort or if it really didn’t bother him.

     Meliae had been a little thin and gaunt-looking when they had set out. Now she had a full-bodied figure and face that was a little distracting at times. The change had been completed in a single day.

     Finally, Vince could see the two-story house through the trees. Fes and Meliae were already walking up to the front door as Vince circled around the front of the house.

     “Everything appears as it should be,” Vince said, inspecting the dirt track that led up to the entryway. “No tracks, prints, or marks. Good. There’s a room I’ve been using to store ‘prizes’ in. We’ll drop this junk off there. I’ll be removing Meliae’s collar after that.

     The Dryad looked at him sharply. Vince ignored it. He didn’t feel like answering her insistent questioning when she got chatty right now.

     Fes grunted and looked down. She’d apparently forgotten her collar and now took a moment to strip it off. Holding it in one hand, she opened the front door and disappeared inside, Meliae following her in.

     Taking the steps leading up to the porch, Vince stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

     Fes waited in the entry hall for him. Pointing at a side room, he moved to join her.

     The warrior woman opened the indicated door. Looking inside, she hesitated and then dropped the loot they’d taken from the bandits.

     Turning around, she walked towards their bedroom, her hands already working at stripping her armor and gear off.

     Shaking his head with a grin, Vince collected the gear Fes had dropped and stepped into his prize room.

     Assorted through the room were racks, stands, and dressers. Everywhere was loot from the dead and ruins of the Wastes. He’d organized it and laid it out according to his own mental plan for it.

     It took Vince only a few minutes to put away all the additions and step back out of the room. Fes passed by him, dressed in her normal clothes.

     “Going to go stretch. Relax. Train. Be back for lunch,” Fes said, stopping in front of him.

     “Mm, alrighty. Don’t wander off too far. While it sounds fun hunting you down in the woods, I’m not sure this is the right time for play.” Vince grinned at her, putting a hand on his hip.

     Fes guffawed at that and gave him an appraising eye. “Already caught. No need to hunt me.” Reaching up, she gently patted his cheek with her callused fingers.

     Opening the front door, Fes left the home and closed the door behind her.

     “So, Meliae, how do you—” Vince stopped talking as he turned his head to find the Dryad. She stood in the middle of the hallway, her fingers clutched around the collar.

     “Yeah, let’s take care of that first. Have a seat at the table. I’ll go get the battery.” Vince pointed vaguely at the dining room off beyond the far end of the hall.

     Vince stripped off his gear as he moved. Flipping his saber onto the bed, he shucked his armor off in front of the door as he passed.

     He moved to another door and popped it open. It served as a storage room for tools and other things he needed, but not regularly. Included among the tools was a battery his father had found somewhere.

     It had a simple function: Drain whatever item the contact point touched of energy when activated. This included magical energy. It would then retain the charge for a period of time or until used.

     Exactly like an old-tech battery.

     Picking up the strange bucket-looking thing, Vince went to the dining room.

     Sitting in a chair, Meliae was looking around the room. Her fingers were still flexing around the collar around her neck.

     “Alright. Hands tight on your collar, Meliae. When this goes off, I need you to grab hold of that collar and pull as hard as you can. It’s going to drain all the magical energy from it in one go. The collar recharges itself pretty quick. My dad figured out that this little doohickey does a solid job of giving you about a single second to pull it off. After that, the collar won’t come off. It actually adapts, frighteningly enough,” Vince explained.

     Stepping in front of the little Dryad, he upended the battery and pressed it to his forearm. Hitting the discharge stud, he felt the leftover charge from the battery pass into him.

     Normally, it energized him and gave him a little flutter of nerves. This time, it… vanished. Like it never even happened.

     “Oh. That was lovely,” Meliae said. Vince looked down to find the Dryad staring up at him, her green eyes had a faint sheen to them. “Will you do that again after you drain the collar?”

     “Uhm, sure. Did it… did the tree take it? Take the energy?” Vince asked, placing the contact point to the collar.

     “Yes. It was very tasty. I’d say my tree jumped ahead at least a month in its growth. Very helpful.”

     “Good to know.” Fingering the trigger, he gave the Dryad a small smile. “Ready?”

     “Yes. Though I value my freedom, I have to ask, why? Why free a living eternal slave to you?” Her voice was quiet, as if she were afraid of her own question. Or the answer.

     “Don’t need slaves. Don’t want them, either.” Vince activated the battery. A crackling filled the room as the collar was drained instantly.

     Quick as lightning, Meliae gripped the collar and snapped it free from her neck. Her little hands dropped it to the ground as if it might leap at her and reattach itself on its own.

     Panting, Meliae looked up at him, her eyes triumphant.

     “Yeah, it can wind you when it gets deactivated. The damnable thing takes a bite out of you as it tries to refill itself.” Picking up the collar, Vince flipped it over his shoulder to hang on himself. Turning the battery over again, he pressed the contact point to his forearm again.

     “You sure? This won’t hurt me? Never tried a full battery charge.”

     Meliae kept panting, her green eyes plastered to his face. She gave him a sharp nod of her head.

     Without another word, Vince activated the discharge function. Fully expecting to get turned into a fried squirrel.

     Except nothing happened. To him, at least.

     Meliae’s eyes, on the other hand, glowed a bright green for a few seconds before the light died away.

     Vince could actually feel whatever it was inside his chest rapidly expanding. Coiling itself tighter. In fact, he could make out what looked like light brown veins crawling up his arms, before settling into the skin and disappearing.

     “That was like an entire year. We should get more slave collars,” said Meliae. Looking back to the Dryad, he was momentarily caught off guard. She was staring hard at him. Almost with a hungry glint to her eyes and eager cast to her mouth.

     “Uh-huh. Not every slave is so casual after being freed, you know. Quite a few attack afterwards. Not that I blame them. I’m just a human to them, after all,” Vince said with a grin.

     “You’re far from a normal human. Far from it,” whispered Meliae.

     Chapter 6

     Vince woke up slowly through the fog of dreams. Blearily, he cracked open his eyes to find Fes sprawled out on her back next to him.

     One of her strong forearms was laid out on his chest and one of her legs over his hips. Grinning, he gingerly folded her arm in, and then her leg. Carefully, he pulled the covers over her and slipped out of bed.

     She snorted once but otherwise fell back asleep, drool trailing down her cheek.

     Trying not to laugh at his very Orc bedmate, he slunk from their bedroom, closing the door behind him.

     Ghosting along the hallway to the dining room and attached kitchen, Vince let his mind wander. He started cataloging what he’d need to take care of, both around the house and the forest.

     Population check, secure the house and surrounding areas. Check the fringes for humans or sign of them. Secure and make sure all caches are intact. Go look for mo—

     Vince’s brain hit a wall when he looked into his kitchen to find Meliae seated at the table. She had a low bowl full of dried berries, nuts, and a small chunk of cured meat.

     Her eyes flitted to him as he entered and she gave him a wide smile.

     “Morning to you, Vince. Your cellars are well stocked,” said the Dryad. Her voice sounded more vibrant today. While she had looked visibly improved in the last day, maybe she had still been recovering.

     “Thank you. I strive to have as much food on hand as I possibly can. You never know when a storm will come through,” Vince said, forcing one foot in front of the other again.

     She’d taken up residence in one of the bedrooms that had never been anything more than… empty. His parents had planned to have more children but hadn’t done so. He’d never asked them, but it seemed after having him they had changed their minds.

     “Wise. I’d like to build a house of glass attached to the side of the house. I was… caught… while I was inspecting such a marvel. Everything inside was protected from the elements and warm.” Meliae turned back to her meal.

     Bending low, he opened a cabinet and peered in.

     In the kitchen, he kept all the nonperishable goods. Tin and glass jars lined the cabinet, labeled by a wax crayon.

     He’d salvaged tin storage containers and glass jars with watertight lids.

     They were worth their weight in gold. There really weren’t too many comparative alternatives for food storage.

     Many a home and house had been ransacked by Vince in the Wastes for all his pickling jars in the basement.

     Vince settled for a near-identical meal as Meliae’s and another that looked like it could be described as a “meat plate.”

     Vince sat down at the table along with the two plates.

     He put the one similar to the Dryad’s in front of himself and the other to the side of it. Dropping two water skins down next to the plates, he looked to Meliae.

     “I take it you’ve decided to remain for a time?” Vince asked casually as he picked up a handful of dried blueberries.

     “I have. I could leave easily enough and simply replant elsewhere. I choose not to. My freedom is mine. Besides, your body is providing more nutrients than my tree would ever receive in natural soil. Not a big tree, but a very strong tree,” said the Dryad, nodding her head.

     “As you like,” Vince said, not really wanting to talk about trees growing in him and how strong they were. “That would be a greenhouse, by the way. The house of glass. We could probably do that. Won’t be easy, though. Glass isn’t the easiest thing in the world to bring all the way out here. We can make a special trip to Knight’s Ferry during next summer though for it. Will probably have some glass blowers trying to offload product.” Vince took a big bite of a dried apple slice and shrugged his shoulders.

     “That’ll be fine. We can set about creating my garden ahead of that. It’ll be harder to keep it alive during the winter, but… doable,” said the Dryad.

     Meliae hesitated, munching on a few nuts. She clearly had more to ask or say.

     Vince didn’t pressure her; she’d speak when she was ready, and only then.

     Instead, he focused on his meal.

     Why is snake meat so strange when cured? He really didn’t care for snake meat, but he knew their reflexes and speed would only continue to help him. Especially with how often he kept getting hurt lately.

     “Why do you agree so easily? You eat with me as if it were nothing. You keep a warrior Orc as a—” Meliae stopped. Vince had to wonder if she was searching for a word she liked. “Mate. It’s abnormal.”

     Vince shrugged his shoulders. “I would agree with you. Up until Fes, I honestly killed any Waster that I came across that was hostile. Then I met her and… well, things change, I guess.”

     “Waster?” Meliae asked.

     “Err, inhabitant of the Wastes. Wastelanders. Wasters.”

     “Wastes. Was it not always as it is today?”

     “No, not at all. In fact, it was part of a fairly large human country. Your kind, and all of the Wastelanders, didn’t even exist one hundred years ago.”

     Meliae frowned, her brow furrowing. “I had no idea. Well, I’m glad for your recent change. How exactly did you take… Fes… for a mate?”

     “Hm. Honestly, it’s a little odd. She was starving out in the plains. She had originally planned to steal our meat supply. One of my clients noticed her. We ended up fighting. I won. Then… I realized what her problem was. I gave her all the game I’d caught that day and… left her there.”

     Vince picked up a flask of water and took a sip.

     Meliae nodded her head slowly.

     “After that, she didn’t show up again until I was ambushed by six crocs. I think it was six? Anyways. Crocs ambushed me. I killed a number of them but was simply over run. Fes showed up, threatened them, and dragged me away as I blacked out. And there’s the story.”

     Meliae chuckled throatily. She tilted her head to the side, white hair fanning out.

     “You realize how unlikely that all is?” asked the Dryad.

     Vince shrugged yet again. “Doesn’t change how it happened.”

     From down the hallway, he heard Fes stumble out of bed. She wasn’t a quiet morning person.

     The door opened and Fes’s heavy footfalls came towards them.

     Smirking, Vince watched as the Orc woman looked first to the Dryad, then him. Her dark eyes were coming to life from the land of her dreams.

     He gestured to the meat plate set at his side, then pushed a skin of water next to it.

     Fes gave him a broad, sleepy grin and sat into the chair next to him taking the proffered plate and skin.

     “Vince, thank you,” murmured the Orc. A green hand reached across the table and patted his forearm.

     “Course, Fes. Need anything else?”

     “No. Good. Happy.” Fes picked up a section of meat and started in on it.

     The warrior woman’s eyes closed and she rested her elbows on the table, eating her breakfast while practically dozing.

     “Any other surprises? Other than taming one of the fiercest Orc women I’ve ever seen, living in a… Waster-inhabited forest, and purchasing and freeing slaves?” Meliae asked, her full lips curling up into a bright smile.

     Vince said nothing, not wanting to admit anything further about how different he was.

     Instead, he tried changing the subject.

     Turning to Fes, he reached over and laid a hand on her wrist.

     Two sleepy black eyes opened and focused on him at the touch.

     “I need to travel the forest for a few days. Will probably head out after breakfast. Check on everything. Make sure we don’t have anyone else around, check in on the populations and confirm they’re in balance, and that the forest is healthy. I’ve never had anyone ever make it to the house, but that’s no guarantee.”

     Fes nodded her head, her hand patting his own.

     “Take Meliae with you. Her forest eventually. Plant seed with her. Will defend home while Vince away. Need to train and build anyways,” Fes said softly.

     “Will do. Thanks, Fes, I appreciate it.”

     “Duty of Fes. Vince won’t regret Fes,” said the Orc, brushing aside the concern physically with her left hand in a wiping motion, her right hand resting on his left hand.

     “You willing to come along, Meliae? It’ll be a few nights out there. We’ll need to plan accordingly,” Vince asked, looking to the Dryad.

     Her cheeks were a deep red, contrasting sharply with the color of her hair. She nodded her head slowly. Apparently the idea of exploring a forest excited her.

     Can’t blame her. How many Dryads get to claim a forest for themselves, I wonder.

     Vince brushed his fingers over the trail. He couldn’t explain it, but he had the feeling the game trail hadn’t been used in a while. The print under his fingers had long ago dried, and the edges of it were cracking and fading.

     The animals of the forest ran it freely. Vince made it a point to keep the predator population low. Acting accordingly, he took more prey animals so that their population wouldn’t strip the forest.

     In this way, he had managed to always have more meat on hand than he’d ever need. Cured, smoked, salted, enough meat to get him through a winter or two if he became wounded and unable to hunt.

     That, and when the snow really dumped and he got trapped indoors for a while.

     Lifting his head up, he sniffed deeply, willing the scents nearby to tell him the story.

     There.

     It was faint. Almost to the point where he wouldn’t have noticed it. Death.

     Standing up, Vince brushed his hands over his pants. “Trail is dormant. Need to track into the woods over yonder,” Vince said, pointing towards where he felt the smell was coming from.

     Meliae nodded her head, staring up at him.

     She’d been quiet for most of the day. They’d left immediately after finishing their meal. Fes had been dozing at the table as the door shut behind them.

     The Dryad had said barely more than a handful of words since then.

     Dismissing the problem, since it wasn’t one, Vince set off after the scent he’d picked up on. It was a unique smell he’d never be unable to forget.

     As they picked their way through plants, bushes, and small saplings, Vince kept his eyes moving, trying to pick it out before he found himself drowning in the stench.

     Unfortunately, he wasn’t successful. One moment it was only a trace smell, the next, the nauseating, gut-wrenching mess of a rotting corpse hit him.

     “Ugh,” Meliae whispered.

     “Yeah. Something died out this way that isn’t normal for these parts. Critters in this forest are a skittish type to abnormal smells. Death is normal; whatever died doesn’t belong here.”

     Then Vince was suddenly on top of it.

     Laid out before him were the festering remains of a humanoid. A slave collar lay in the moldering throat of the body.

     “They send slaves they don’t want out here to die. I’ve buried or burned my fair share. It’s where all those slave collars come from,” Vince explained. Reaching down, he fished out the collar and set it to one side.

     “I see. I can help with this,” Meliae said.

     “Oh? I’d be much obliged. Digging takes a while, and this isn’t the best part of the woods to be lighting a possibly uncontrolled fire in. That, and the stink of a burning body is awful.”

     Meliae didn’t respond, and instead lifted her left hand. All around the corpse, the dirt shifted. Cracks and rifts formed in the soil and the corpse was pulled down, into the earth.

     As quickly as it had all started, the dirt mounded itself up over where the corpse had been and ceased moving.

     “There, the roots will feed on her. She shall serve in her death to grow nature.”

     “She?” Vince asked. He hadn’t been able to identify the gender. The clothes had been nondescript, and the corpse too far gone to figure out.

     “The trees told me. She was an Elf. She lay down and died right here.”

     “Ah. Probably killed herself. Go far enough away from the owner of the collar and it’ll start strangling you. Depends on the allowed range. Take too long to turn around and you’ll end up dying. Thanks for the assist, by the way, it was blessedly quick,” Vince said, grinning at the tiny Dryad.

     Her eyes were pinned to his own. She blinked twice, her small hands pressed to her stomach. She finally gave a small nod of her head. “Of course. The trees speak of you. That you wander often. Even as a young boy.”

     Vince tilted his head. He’d heard tales of Dryads from his parents and that they were far different than the physical world. That they had powers over nature and woodlands.

     “You protect the woods. You drive away those who would harvest the trees for lumber and keep everything healthy. The animals do not fear you. They view you as a natural predator. That you come and collect the weak or sick.”

     The Dryad’s voice had taken on a strange quality during her speech. Vince simply waited for her to finish, wondering if she was communing with them.

     “I try. This wood is in my care, as per my father’s wish. Though I do think it could easily foster a village or a town here. Would do well, too. I limit the population, but it’s still a very large population. I’m constantly trying to cut down the numbers with the speed at which they reproduce. They’re Wastes beasts. They eat anything. Leaves, pine needles, bark, poisonous plants.”

     Vince sighed and rubbed two fingers to a temple. “Alright. We should probably head north. This is all hilly, rocky mountain country and it’s slow going.”

     Setting off in the direction he wanted, Vince let his mind start to wander.

     “What are you looking for in the north?” Meliae asked him.

     Vince stopped dead in his tracks at her question and looked over his shoulder at her.

     “Same thing as here. Corpses. Sickness. Anything that would cause a problem for the health of the area. Why?” he asked after a moment.

     Meliae closed her eyes and held still. Vince turned around and watched her, waiting. Several minutes passed in silence.

     Then her green eyes slid open. “There is a problem with a water source west of here. Nothing is wrong in the north. East and south are equally without problems.”

     “Handy. Remind me to take you with me on my forest walks,” Vince said, giving her a smile.

     “Mm. I will.”

     “West, you said? There’s a creek west of here. Blocked?”

     “I’m not sure what the problem is. Just that there is one. That’s what the trees told me.”

     “Off we go, then.”

     Vince dropped his pack down in the small clearing. The problem Meliae had directed them to had ended up being minor and yet horribly annoying at the same time. The creek had indeed been blocked, by a minor rockslide from the surrounding area. It’d clear eventually, though it’d create problems for everything downstream until then.

     He’d chosen a spot that managed to provide shelter as well as a windbreak for them, the trees having grown up close to one another and a small dip in the land providing the protection.

     Meliae sat down on a rock nearby. Her fingers picked at her clothes as if they bothered her.

     “Something wrong with the fabric? We can try washing it to see if it was something we picked up on the way,” Vince offered. Kneeling down, he struck a flint stick to the side of his hunting knife.

     With a handful of strikes, he caught a spark and then blew gently into the kindling as it started to smoke.

     “I’ll adjust in time. Dryads don’t wear much, and when we do wear clothes, it’s skins or furs. Nudity doesn’t embarrass us.”

     “Oh?” Vince immediately thought of when she was on the auction block. Standing there nude for the whole world to see. Taking a deep breath, he blew into the smoking bundle of moss, bark shavings, and small twigs.

     It leapt into flame and he slid it under his pile of small sticks and branches. Leaning in, he blew on the whole thing, feeding more dried moss in on top of it.

     “Being looked at like a piece of meat to be devoured is entirely different than being nude.” Apparently her own mind had gone straight back to the auction as well.

     Setting larger branches atop the now burning smaller ones, Vince built up the fire. “Understandable.”

     “When you’re done with that, I’m ready,” Meliae muttered.

     “What, for sleep? Hit the sack, then. There’s little out here that would bother us, so there’s no need for a watch.”

     Vince opened his pack and pulled out a piece of dried jerky. He couldn’t remember what kind of meat it was, but at this point he didn’t really care.

     Meliae said nothing to that. Vince looked up to find her hunched over the pack between her knees. Her eyes were watching him. Curious and with a hint of concern.

     “What do you know about the Fes’s culture?” Meliae asked him.

     “The Fes?” Vince asked around a mouthful of jerky.

     “I suppose that answers that,” Meliae said with a sigh. “Fes isn’t her name. Her name is Berenga.”

     Vince felt his face turn into a frown. There’d been a number of times when Fes—or Berenga, he supposed—had spoken quietly with Meliae.

     “Fes is a title. Before we get into that, what do you know of Orc culture?”

     “Nothing. Except they’re warlike and tribal.” He had no problem admitting ignorance.

     Meliae tilted her head to one side and then nodded. “Unflattering, but accurate. Orc culture is tribal at its lowest level. Nomadic, almost. As it moves upwards, it gets larger until it’s clan sized. The clans can be very large. These clans are measured and evaluated on the strength of their leaders. Their leaders are always men.”

     Vince nodded, taking another large bite of his unappealing dinner.

     Unsurprising. Backwards society.

     Vince was of the opinion that man or woman could easily be… well, whatever. There really weren’t limitations on the sex in this world. You weren’t going to complain if a woman merchant smashed you into the ground because you were too stupid to get your prices correct. Or if a woman leader outdid you on the political scene.

     Though the numbers between men and women were starting to rebalance, the vast majority of his own leadership was women.

     Strong survive, weak die. Regardless of sex.

     Meliae opened her pack and pulled out a small pouch. Closing the flap, she set the pouch on her knees. “Most of this I know from my mother, who dealt with the Orc clans often. She made deals with both humans and Orcs. Dryads are keepers of nature and fertility. She taught me many things. I’ve learned some of their culture from Fes herself. Men are measured in a number of ways.”

     Taking a nut from the pouch, she placed it in her mouth.

     “The first is obvious. Their strength and combat prowess,” she continued, crunching up the small morsel. “Another is the number of wives he has, and their comparable strength. Orc men want strong wives. Though not as strong as them.”

     “Figures.” Vince wrinkled his nose. Meliae popped a handful of seeds and nuts in her mouth as he continued. “Fes is stronger than I am; doesn’t bother me in the least. If anything, I feel more assured by it.”

     “She would argue that you are stronger. Back to the discussion at hand, though. For her, this is actually a big problem. She’s stronger, smarter, and faster than those in her tribe. She defeated all the prime marriage candidates handily. She would have needed to go to a clan-meet to seek out a future. Even there, it’s unlikely she would have found someone who could match her that wouldn’t be much older than her.

     “I imagine she would have beaten everyone suitable easily. Which would have only left older males with a great deal more experience. The problem there is their wives would be intimidated by a younger, stronger wife. Fes would have been disparaged by the older generation, and unable to find a place in the younger.

     “Then you came along. She says you defeated her in single combat, spared her, and then gave her what she had challenged you for anyways. Taking and asking nothing of her.” Meliae stuck a finger in her mouth and dislodged something from between her teeth.

     Vince shrugged at that. “And? She was hungry.”

     “Yes. Then she intervened when you attempted to protect two non-combatants from a group of six… gator men, you called them?”

     “Big lizard men. Look like alligators.”

     “Yes, those. You killed half before the other half overwhelmed you?”

     “Something like that.”

     “Then after rescuing you, you called her Fes.”

     “Mm. She asked a question, if I remember correct. Fes was the only word I could make out. I thought it was her name.”

     “I see. If I had to guess, she was asking you if you wanted her to be your First Wife.”

     “I… I don’t—” Vince stopped, his face screwing up in a grimace.

     “You don’t speak her language, I know. She realized that much later herself. Fes means First Wife. Apparently you labeled her that, and then indicated for her to mount you.”

     “What? No! I… this is all a little too much to believe. She told you this?”

     “Yes. She did. She also said how happy you make her. You treat her as an equal and dote on her. That was not her expectation going into a relationship with a human male.”

     Vince scratched at his cheek and turned his eyes away from the Dryad. Vince was feeling embarrassed and a little off balance.

     “My parents acted that way. I’ve seen others act similarly. Seems only natural to act that way to your…” Vince trailed off. He wasn’t quite sure what to call her. Apparently she viewed herself as his First Wife, as it were.

     “Call her Fes. It makes her happy. Using her name would only confuse her.” Meliae’s hand was there suddenly, pressing into his chest. Vince looked up in surprise as she pushed him down to the ground.

     In the time he’d looked from her, she’d managed to remove her pants. Small hands began pulling at his belt.

     “Meliae, w-what are you doing?” Vince asked, his hands moving to fend off her own.

     “Stop,” said the Dryad in a firm voice. “Fes and I already spoke about this and I’ll be second. Meliae is fine, I need no title.” Somehow, she managed to avoid his defending hands and slipped his belt free of the loops.

     Root tendrils snuck out from the ground beneath him and caught the loops of his pants. With a single jerk, Vince was pantless and exposed from the waist down. As quickly as it happened, the roots vanished.

     He felt once again betrayed by the fact that his body was responding to the fact that a woman was taking advantage of him

     “Whoa there, Meliae, I think you’ve got the wrong—”

     Meliae interrupted him by taking his semi-erect self into her mouth. The wet warmth of her caught him off guard and he froze.

     Surrendering immediately to her soft lips and writhing tongue, Vince relaxed into the ground.

     Meliae worked her head back and forth slowly, her lips and tongue doing all of the work. Her right hand reached under and lightly cupped him in one hand as her left slid up under his armor.

     The Dryad released him and then threw a leg over his hips. He felt more than saw her diminutive hand grab his slick, erect length and angle it upwards.

     “Mother always said that’d work. I didn’t believe her,” Meliae whispered, her green eyes watching him. They were full of fear and longing in equal measure.

     Her fingers were tiny and soft, supple. Her skin smooth and pale, exactly as he remembered. Exactly as he had dreamed of. Restraint was only possible during the waking hours since his subconscious had dwelled on her naked form repeatedly.

     Then she managed to fit the tip of him into her narrow opening. Placing her hands on his shoulders, she looked into his face.

     Then, not sparing herself the luxury of going slowly, as if waiting might cause her to lose her nerve, she slammed herself down on him.

     Her saliva let him slide into her tight crevice easily, tearing past the resistance her body held at his invader.

     Her hips and bottom were warm against his thighs and lap, the soft skin pressing to him as she grinded hard into him.

     Meliae’s breath caught and she closed her eyes tight in pain. In that single thrust, she’d committed herself. Now she held perfectly still from the waist down.

     Turning her head to one side, it was obvious to him she’d cracked her virginity on him in that push.

     Not trusting his voice, Vince pressed his hands to her hips and held her there. Slowly, his fingers let her go after a few seconds and began to gently run up and down her hips and lower back.

     He wasn’t going to fight her off, but neither was he going to let her make her first time a painful experience.

     She’d taken the choice from him, but in reality, it was a choice he’d have made anyways.

     Eventually, the Dryad let out a shuddering breath. Her head slowly turned back to him. She slit her eyes and peeked up at him through her lashes.

     Vince gave her an encouraging smile, his fingers ghosting along her lower back and spine.

     Shivering at his touch, Meliae let go of his shoulders to grab the hem of her tunic and under shirt. In one smooth motion, she pulled it off and tossed it to one side.

     Taking the opportunity for what it was, Vince reached up and grabbed her sides. In one smooth motion, he rolled her onto her back and positioned himself atop her.

     “Ah! Vince, ah, wait—” Meliae started, her legs being spread apart by his movement. Her knees trembled as they were pushed outward.

     “Okay, you let me know when to continue,” he said softly. He slid his hands down to rest on each side of her, his forearms pressed to her wide hips.

     “I… alright. Thank you,” Meliae looked everywhere but him for a few seconds. Eventually, with nowhere else to go, her eyes returned to his. “I think I’m ready. Just… slowly, please. I’m not Fes.”

     “No, you’re not. You’re Meliae. A very different woman entirely,” Vince said with a grin. Leaning down, he kissed her tenderly as he pulled his hips back and then pushed forward.

     Her small body shuddered as he reentered her. Her knees pressed into his sides while her hands clutched at his lower back.

     Vince kept his pace steady, and slow. He plied her warm skin with soft kisses and gentle nuzzles, traveling back and forth along her neck and shoulders. Coupled with a few grazing bites and light touches of his fingers, he could feel her embarrassment fading.

     The Dryad’s knees sunk down to each side, opening herself up to him completely without a hint of resistance. Her arms circled around his neck and pulled him down to her, kissing him fiercely.

     Her hips started to move as she figured out his rhythm. Rising and falling as he moved. She devoured his face, kissing him repeatedly, never stopping. Practically taking his breath away with her demand to keep her lips to his.

     Taking the subtle unspoken encouragement, Vince continued, building up more speed and force as he went.

     When Meliae started panting, she finally let him free of her hungry mouth. She rested her head on the grass, her body bucking with each thrust of his hips. Her green eyes were partially unfocused as she gazed up at him.

     A small smile lit her face even as her whole body tightened up around him, her skin flushing as she experienced her first orgasm. Her pupils contracted until they were little more than pinpricks, and the green of her eyes looked almost like they were glowing.

     Unable to resist the look of her face or the sensation of her channel pulling at him, urging him, Vince hit his own climax.

     Pushing up firmly against her, he unloaded his seed. Digging deep into her, he felt his shaft swell. His forearms locked to her hips and kept her still. He held her there against the grass as he ground his hips into her thighs.

     Two more solid pumps and Vince felt his peak end. Lowering his head, he rested it on her bare shoulder.

     Meliae lifted a hand and ran her fingers through his hair, her fingernails tickling the back of his head.

     Vince felt her full, moist lips press into his ear, her tongue snaking out to flick at his earlobe.

     “That was wonderful. Again?” whispered the Dryad huskily.

     Isn’t another name for a Dryad a Nymph?

     Chapter 7

     Vince’s brain drew a blank. Slowing his approach to the house, Vince watched as Fes lifted a giant block of stone and set it in front of another.

     They’d only been gone three days, in the end. Admittedly, it was closer to four days, since evening was settling over them, but it hadn’t been long.

     In that time, Fes had started building a heavy stone wall forty feet out from the house. She’d managed to complete several circuits all the way around, the height of it coming up to her thighs.

     The green muscular, shirtless Orc dragged a forearm across her brow before shifting the stone around a touch.

     Vince couldn’t help but appreciate the view of the lovely half-naked woman. Despite being sweaty and dirty, she still had that natural feral charm to her.

     Strange tastes there, Vinny.

     He wasn’t sure what to label his feelings for Fes as. He definitely cared for her. Enjoyed her company at night immensely. Did he love her, though?

     What exactly is love? Is it a deeper form of care?

     Suddenly, Vince wished his parents were around. His interactions with women up to this point had been casual sex. Only a few minor relationships. Right up until Fes.

     Setting the whole thing aside for now, he corrected his course to head straight for Fes.

     “Hey there, beautiful. Now, I admit I don’t mind the view, but maybe I’d be jealous if anyone else saw you?” Vince asked in a teasing voice.

     Fes’s head whipped around at his voice. Her face nearly split in two at the smile she gifted him with, her small tusks slipping free of her lips. She had no embarrassment at his comments or his wandering gaze.

     Her black eyes shifted from him to the Dryad at his side.

     “Done?” the Orc asked.

     “Done. All is taken care of,” Meliae answered. She strode up to the warrior nonchalantly, a smile curling her lips.

     “Good.” Fes leaned down and hugged Meliae warmly. Meliae hugged her in return and then kissed Fes’s cheek, before walking off towards the front of the house.

     Vince shook his head, figuring it for some strange custom he’d have to figure out later. Stepping up to Fes, he tilted his head to the side, indicating the wall.

     “A wall, huh?” Vince asked, looking from the interlocking rocks. He hadn’t noticed it at first, but it looked like Fes had shaped them and even put a paste between the rocks.

     “Good defense. Will protect our home. Always expect an attack and plan. Vince… is okay with a wall?” asked the warrior. Her black eyes watched him.

     “Sure. You’re not wrong. My father would agree with you completely. It’s a good idea, Berenga,” Vince said, stepping in close to her.

     The use of her name froze her in place, her lips coming together and her spine stiffening.

     Vince gently placed his left hand on her strong jaw and kissed her. “Relax, Fes. Fes Berenga. All is well. In the future, I’d like to be consulted on taking more wives, though? I always considered myself a one-woman kind of man, but apparently I now have two.”

     Fes’s cheeks colored a dark green and she nodded her head a fraction.

     “Good.” Vince pressed a kiss to her lips. Running a thumb along the line of her cheekbone, he pressed his forehead to hers. “Woods are fine. Meliae was a big help. You were right on picking her up. Thank you, Berenga, my Fes.”

     Fes only managed the barest of head nods, her black eyes wide.

     “Come on. Let’s clean you up and have dinner together. I’ll scrub you down if you promise to behave.”

     Fes only nodded again, seemingly unable to speak.

     “Meliae, we’re heading to the creek to clean up. Want to come?”

     “No. I’ll start in on the evening meal,” called back the Dryad from the open door. “Take your time.”

     “Well. If the Nymph says take our time, maybe we don’t have to behave after all.”

     A week later, and Vince found himself on the outside of his house looking at the trail west again.

     “For as little time as I get to spend here, I sure do miss it,” he muttered, looking at the building over his shoulder.

     “It’s because it’s home,” Meliae said, adjusting the fake slave collar around her throat. “We’ll return shortly, as you said. We really do need to sell off this… stuff you’ve been collecting. You yourself said this is mostly the castoffs that wouldn’t be worth holding on to.”

     Vince could only nod his head, looking towards the path ahead of them.

     “Yeah, I know. It’ll also give us a chance to put in a request for a glass merchant. Summer is right around the corner. Still.”

     “I understand, Vince,” Fes said, placing a strong hand on his shoulder. “Home for us, too. Come, we go.” Fes put her hand back to the handle of the two-wheeled cart they’d constructed behind her and set off ahead of them.

     Inside of the cart was a jumble of armor, weapons, and odds and ends that Vince had been simply collecting with no plan.

     Meliae had taken one look at it all and then cataloged everything that needed to be gotten rid of.

     Off to sell my junk. Being a bachelor was a lot easier.

     Putting one foot in front of the other, Vince took up a pace behind the cart. Meliae slid in next to him, her green eyes peering at him as if to decipher his odd mood.

     It was slow going with the cart. The trails and mountain paths weren’t meant for it. Nights had gotten interesting, though. Fes and Meliae had worked out some type of agreement or plan. He couldn’t quite figure out a pattern to who ended up in his bed with him, but he quickly realized he didn’t care.

     With Fes, it was the same as always, a wrestling match followed by one of them surrendering to the other.

     For Meliae, it was very different. The Dryad rarely wanted anything different than him mounting her. That and always initiating the whole thing with her mouth.

     Fes had looked confused the first time she saw Meliae perform in that way. Each time after that, she’d watched intensely when Meliae started them off.

     For Vince, it was a test of his mental fortitude. He hadn’t thought of himself of shy, but this was something entirely different.

     By the time they reached Knight’s Ferry, he was honestly looking forward to a break, if only to give his battered mental strength a breather.

     After arriving, Vince had noticed they were getting far more scrutiny than he remembered last time. Or any time previously. He wasn’t sure if it was the fact that he had two non-humans with him this time or if it was him.

     He hadn’t seen the men he’d noticed the last two times, but Vince had a thought that they were involved or directly responsible with the atmospheric change. One or the other.

     As they walked along the road towards Deskil’s place, he noticed that he wasn’t alone in the increased scrutiny. Anyone with a non-human was being given a second or third look.

     Either slavery is on the way out… which seems unlikely, given the profit involved. Or non-human sentiment is falling further.

     An older man glared at Fes and then Meliae in turn, ignoring Vince entirely.

     That answers that.

     Vince couldn’t remember clearly the last time it had gotten like this. Only that his parents hadn’t traveled to Knight’s Ferry for a year after something similar had started.

     Apparently this was a normal ebb and flow type of situation. Something would happen, they’d blame non-humans, take “revenge,” then feel satisfied for a while.

     “This’ll be our last trip for a bit. Or at least the three of us together. Make sure you pick up anything you think you might need,” Vince muttered barely loud enough for his companions to hear.

     Fes grunted from up ahead. Vince noticed Meliae nod her head out of the corner of his eye.

     Stopping outside of Deskil’s shop, Vince stepped up to Fes and laid a hand on her forearm. “Get the cart up near the door, Fes. If someone challenges you, call out. I’ll see if we can get Deskil out here quick like,” Vince said. Letting go of Fes, he motioned to Meliae and stepped up to the door.

     Without a sound, the door glided inward and Vince stepped in. A soft thumping from the backroom told him where Deskil was. And Minnie.

     “Oh,” murmured the Dryad.

     “Yeah. They’re like teenagers. Bored and little else to do.” Vince walked up to the counter. Sitting there was a corroded service bell. Setting his hand down next to it, he put his finger on it and pressed it down twice. Two dings rang out clearly, despite the metal looking rather uncared for.

     He didn’t like interrupting them, but he liked leaving Fes alone out front even less.

     A bed creaked audibly, followed by the flop of bare feet. The back door jerked open that Minnie had appeared out of last time. This time, Deskil appeared, fastening his pants.

     “Oi! Vinny. Didn’t you hear me working back there?” Deskil complained, catching sight of Vince at the counter. His eyes flicked from him to the Dryad and then back. “Heard you’d bought yourself another one.”

     “I did hear you back there, but I have Fes out front with things to sell you and the locals seem… different. And… yeah, Fes and I bought Meliae.”

     Deskil ran his hands down the sides of his pants as he thumped his way over to Vince.

     “Hmph. As to the locals… some… thugs went missing. Happy to see them go, but people are claiming they were jumped by a raiding party.”

     “Huh. Was it a pretty woman with a bunch of men? Dark leather armor?” Vince asked, a pit forming in his stomach.

     Deskil reached Vince and looked up at him. “I take it you met them, then?”

     “Yeah, tried to rob me. Killed them all. Stripped them and dumped their bodies into the bushes.”

     “You’re not trying to sell me their equipment, are you?” Deskil asked warily.

     “No, no. We kept it for now. We didn’t want to raise suspicion if we didn’t have to. Come, we’ll—” Vince paused, staring at Deskil again.

     “What is it, Vinny? Never seen a Dwarf wanting to go finish off his woman?”

     “You know I’m a friend, right, Deskil?” Vince asked, wanting to prep the Dwarf first.

     “I don’t approve of your recent purchases, but you’re a friend, sure.”

     Vince gave the Dwarf a tight smile and then tapped his own throat.

     Deskil blanched, his skin turning a pale paper white. One hand came up to touch his bare neck. A neck that should have been wearing a collar.

     Vince and Deskil stared at one another. Vince wasn’t quite sure what to say or do. A slave without a collar was to be immediately “put down” without question.

     “Uhm, Meliae?” Vince asked, turning his head to the Dryad a few steps behind him. She had been looking at something and hadn’t really been paying attention to the men’s exchange.

     “Yes?”

     “Could you… could you pull off your collar real quick?”

     Meliae’s head came around and she eyed him questioningly. She knew what a collarless non-humanoid meant. Then she noticed Deskil, and his hand pressed to his neck.

     “Oh.” Meliae lifted a hand and unfastened the collar with a click. “Is that suitable, husband?”

     “Mm. Thank you, Meliae.” Vince didn’t feel like fighting her on the term she used right now. She’d used it the entire way here whenever she wanted to prod at him.

     She’d already gotten too much of a response out of him on the trip here to want to give it up easily. She seemed to enjoy taunting and teasing him.

     The Dryad replaced the collar with a smile and turned back to the wooden staff she’d been looking at.

     Deskil let out a breath and then gave Vince a lopsided smile.

     “I should have known. No Orc woman would willingly allow herself to be called Fes.”

     As Deskil finished talking, Minnie opened the door and took three fast steps out of the room before realizing Vince was there. In her left hand, half hidden behind her hip, was Deskil’s collar.

     “Hey, Minnie. You should probably give that to him before someone else walks in. Then again, Fes is on the front porch. She might be scaring away business,” Vince said, offering Minnie a smile and a wave.

     Frozen halfway between the back room and Deskil, she seemed at a loss.

     Sighing, Meliae cleared her throat and then pulled off her collar when Minnie looked to her. Putting it back in place, the Dryad picked up the staff and started moving it around.

     “I… we… well, shit,” Minnie finished lamely.

     “Anyways. So, I have a cart full of crap I want to sell you. I figure a few might be good for a resale and the rest for the materials,” Vince explained, walking to the front door. “Got it in a cart out front. I’ll meet you out there. If you see something you like, Meliae, grab it. You could do with some armor anyways. Leather would suit you.”

     Vince opened the front door and exited, closing it behind himself.

     Fes looked up from the cart and gave him a broad smile. “Vince.”

     “Fes Berenga. Deskil will be right out. I figure after this, we hit the Ranger board. See if there’s any work worth doing. Being a courier is easy and I do it at a run. Would need to drop Meliae off at home, though, on our way. I doubt she’d be able to keep up the entire way.” Vince leaned up against the wall next to Fes.

     Fes moved in close to him and took the patch of wall directly beside him. Her right hand slid up behind his thigh to grab his ass.

     She’d gotten more forward after watching him with Meliae at night. The dynamics were changing.

     “Don’t want to stay here tonight. They look at me angrily. Camp in the field?” she accentuated her request with a firm squeeze.

     “I, ah… yeah. That’s a good idea. We’ll take care of this, hit the board, and then get outta here. Sound like a plan?”

     “Yes.”

     Vince felt a smirk slip over his features. Fes’s hand didn’t leave his ass, and she didn’t offer up any more information, either.

     Vince sighed and pulled down the only tag that was worth his time. A monster hunt. Up north in the Kingdom of Portland. It’d take them a while to get up there, but the price was significant. Two hundred standards.

     He honestly didn’t need the money, but what else was he supposed to do with his life? His father had been a Ranger. His mother as close to a Ranger as you could be without taking the tests.

     What purpose do I have otherwise? Something has to stand between humanity and the Wastes. Humans are ugly, hideous things, and yet beautiful and caring at the same time.

     With another sigh, he shook his head. Philosophy wasn’t for him. He was a blade. Plain and simple.

     “Monster hunt. Pretty far up north. Something’s killing livestock one at a time spread out over a lot of farms. Little of the carcass is left afterwards. All the earmarks of a Wastelander who isn’t confident enough to hunt humans and not skilled enough to hunt wild animals,” Vince said, looking up at the two women in front of him.

     Fes grinned, her left hand closing on the hilt of her sword. She’d never turn down a fight.

     Meliae held up a finger on her left hand, her right hand casually holding her new iron shod staff. “Is the pay worth our time?”

     “Two hundred standards. Pretty significant. Probably one of the largest I’ve ever seen. Which means someone is losing a lot of livestock up there.”

     “Did they happen to list anything else?” Meliae asked.

     “No, it’s… pretty bare on details. Then again, for it to show up all the way down here means every Ranger north of here has already turned it down. It’s why the price is so high.”

     Vince let out a slow breath. “Let’s do this one. We’ll buy several horses with what we made selling to Deskil. A pack horse as well. I don’t really want to head north on foot.”

     “Don’t like horses,” Fes complained, her smile dimming but not vanishing.

     “Sorry. But it’ll cut the travel time to a third, practically. Maybe even more. Let’s do this job and that’ll be it for a while.

     “Do it, get our money, then we’ll lay low till summer. We make a small stop here to do some banking. I’d feel better if we pulled out the majority of what I keep in the bank. Knight’s Ferry is getting… uncomfortable, and I’m not sure when we’ll be back. The bank here in Knight’s Ferry is backed up by the Modesto bank, which is backed up by the Fresno bank, so we can go elsewhere, but… this would be our last stop before we headed home.”

     Fes said nothing further. Vince assumed she was still brooding about the horse but equally excited about doing a job.

     Such a straightforward woman.

     Meliae frowned, tapping the tip of her staff to her bottom lip. “At that point, is there somewhere else we can go to pick up your Ranger jobs and bank? Or shop? Why bother coming back here at all?”

     Vince looked down in thought, his free hand coming up to rest behind his head.

     “Blanchard, I guess. It’s actually closer, but there’s a lot more… a lot more slave trade going through there. It’s on a bit of an intersection of rivers. Though they’d be less tolerant to someone damaging their merchandise, so maybe that’s best. Good thought, Meliae.”

     Vince had another reason for not really wanting to go there. An ex who had never forgiven him for calling it off. It had been his only real foray into a relationship outside of sex.

     In the end, he hadn’t much cared for her personality.

     “Let’s get moving. I’d rather not be in Knight’s Ferry when night falls.”

     “So eager to take a young Dryad out into the wild, husband? Beastly,” Meliae said, her lips turning into a bright smile.

     Vince closed his eyes and pressed a hand to his face.

     Chapter 8

     Fes dismounted and flipped the reins to a young boy. Vince hopped down easily from his saddle while Meliae gingerly got out of hers.

     She wasn’t the best rider, but definitely had improved after being forced into it every day.

     “Two standards for all four for a day,” quoted the boy.

     “I’ll give you two for the stabling, one more for you if you brush ‘em,” Vince countered. Leaning back, he stretched his muscles and felt a solid pop as things slid back into place.

     “Done, sir! Uhm—”

     “Here, up front.” Vince pulled out several coins from the inside of a vest pocket and dropped them into the boy’s cupped hands. “We’ll be staying in the inn,” Vince said, gesturing to the building attached to the stable.

     “Great! I’ll have everything ready for you in the morning, Mister…?”

     “Vince.”

     Not saying another word, Vince pulled his saddlebag off the horse and flung it over his shoulder. Walking over to Meliae’s horse, he grabbed hers as well.

     “Thank you,” murmured the Dryad, her hands pressing into the sides of her hips.

     “Mm,” Vince replied. Turning around, he made his way over to the inn. He heard Meliae’s soft footfalls trail behind him, immediately followed by the loud clumps of Fes’s boots.

     Pushing open the door with his free hand, Vince stepped inside. It was a simple place, laid out cleanly and carefully. To his eye, it had the appearance of a place that catered to merchants rather than travelers.

     That was fine with him. He didn’t get saddle sore often, but having made such a long trek, he was willing to take a rest, even at a merchant cost.

     A month and some odd on horseback to get here. When we get back, it’ll only be a month or so before the summer market.

     Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Vince stepped up to the counter and rang the service bell that was set out.

     “Coming!” called a deep, gravelly voice from the back.

     A handful of seconds later and an older Orc stepped out from a doorway and nodded his head at them.

     “You and your… two companions, then?” asked the Orc, a finger surreptitiously touching the band around his neck.

     The collars up here were simple things. Small. Barely more than a necklace.

     Non-humanoid treatment differed the further north you went.

     Vince nodded his head. He’d only been up this way once before and had admired the people and their customs. It wasn’t home, though.

     Even if home was a slave-fueled nightmare for many.

     “Two rooms will be—”

     “One room,” Vince interrupted.

     The Orc gave no reaction to that and continued on, “One room with one bed will—”

     “Two beds, please,” Vince interrupted once more.

     The barest flicker of surprise registered on the Orc’s face before he nodded his head.

     “The room will be three standards; the extra cost is because it has a tub with heated plumbing. Will you be dining with us tonight?”

     Vince nodded his head, his hand going into his vest to start pulling out coins.

     “The rate for one normal meal is half a standard and for non-human meals is one fourth.”

     Vince dropped six standards into the Orc’s outstretched hand. He’d rather pay more than the requested amount and earn it back in extras.

     He knew without asking that Fes was tired of dry meat and Meliae was as fed up with dried fruit.

     “Could you include fresh meat for one and fresh fruits or berries for the other? Between the three of us our diet is… spread out,” Vince said with a grin.

     Fes and Meliae both hummed their agreement and appreciation.

     The Orc bowed his head once in acknowledgment, his face hidden in the movement. A snap of his fingers and a short whistle later and a young boy came out. “Jack here will lead you to your rooms. My name is Jerod. Please ask if you need anything.”

     “I’m sure I’ll have questions later. I’m a Ranger on contract to a farm west of here in…” Vince paused, thinking about the name.

     “Bellevue Farm,” Meliae supplied from his side.

     “Ah, yeah. Thanks,” Vince said, smiling at the Dryad.

     Jerod looked from the Dryad back to Vince and then nodded his head. “I heard the contract was moving south when none of the local Rangers could fulfill it.”

     “We’ll fill it,” Fes said firmly, a hand drifting to hilt at her waist.

     Jerod only gave her a small smile in response to that.

     “That we will, Fes. Lead on, Jack. We’ve been on the trail for… ever, it feels like.”

     With a small gesture, Vince indicated for Jack to continue.

     Meliae made a chirping noise and skipped ahead a step. “A hot bath. I can get the dust out of my hair.”

     “Says the woman who regularly weaves twigs, leaves, and flowers into braids,” Fes murmured, walking beside the Dryad.

     “They smell nice,” Meliae argued.

     “The bees agreed,” Fes said with a chuckle.

     “Ugh. The bees were a problem.”

     Vince shook his head and fell in behind the two chatting women, adjusting the bags on his shoulder.

     Jack led them quickly towards a room on the first floor near the back of the building. Opening the door, he handed Meliae a key and vanished before anyone could even think to tip him.

     “Strange,” muttered Vince. He watched the boy dart away even as his two companions entered the room.

     Walking inside, Vince closed the door behind him and dropped the packs to one side.

     A day of rest, a nice bed. Then off to work.

     Fes and Meliae were all about the tub in the bathroom. Realizing he wouldn’t be getting a shot at it any time soon, he opened the door again.

     “Going to go see what I can find out about the farm. I’ll be back. Take a bath, both of you. We’ll head down to dinner together later,” he called into the room.

     Neither woman acknowledged him. Instead, they had discovered how to turn on the tub and were already determining who would go first.

     Snickering, he slid the lock into position on the handle so the door would lock itself after he left.

     Moving into the hallway, he closed the door behind him and headed back to talk to Jerod.

     Catching the Orc as a new customer was whisked off by Jack, Vince gave the man a smile.

     “Mind if I get that info from you now rather than later? I’m afraid I have no chance at that bath till they tell me so,” Vince explained.

     Jerod lifted one side of his mouth in a smirk.

     “Uh-huh. What do you want to know? You said you were on the Bellevue Farm job?”

     “Yep. Hired out of Modesto.”

     Jerod whistled at that. “South and then some.”

     Vince shrugged, leaning over the countertop. Pulling out a standard, he slid it across the wood towards Jerod. “Pay is pay. What can you tell me?”

     “Same as most around here. Something killing the livestock. They send a few Rangers after it. Things die down. Go away. Nothing is ever actually found. Then it starts up all over again a few days later. Rangers had to refund the coin and no one was happy. Created some problems with the guild and their reputation.”

     Jerod slid the coin off the counter and dropped it into a pocket.

     “I can imagine,” Vince said with a shake of his head. The Rangers took their reputation very seriously. “Could you tell me more about the missing livestock and the attacks?”

     Jerod mulled that over before nodding his head.

     Standards don’t go as far as they used to, lamented Vince.

     “Every night, livestock would simply vanish. No trace of who took them, not a boot print, nothing. A little blood, sometimes a bone, nothing else. Not small livestock, either. Often enough it’d be a cow or a bull.”

     Something wrong there. No Waster would kill and eat an entire animal on the property without leaving a print. Leaving a bone and blood seems… strange as well.

     “Any chance they kept those bones?” Vince asked, not believing for even a second they had hung on to it.

     “No. Didn’t keep the corpses when they started showing up, either.”

     “Corpses?” Vince prompted.

     “About two weeks ago, they started taking two a night. Different locations. One would be eaten whole, tail to nose. The second always had leftovers. Not enough meat with one and too much with two, I guess.”

     The Orc shrugged his shoulders. It was supposition, but it helped Vince.

     “Can you describe the corpses?”

     “Eaten,” described the Orc helpfully.

     “Okay, then. Anything else of interest?”

     “Well, they almost caught it up on the Sauter place. North of Bellevue. They got there in time to drive the creature off.”

     Interesting.

     “They saved the lamb. It died ten minutes after that, though. No one wanted to touch it. They burned the corpse and then covered it with dirt.”

     Ugh, superstitious idiots. Any evidence at all would be helpful.

     Vince forced a smile on his face. “And that was two weeks ago?”

     “About.”

     Vince pulled out a scrap of paper from an interior pocket in his vest. Setting down another standard next to the pencil on the desk, Vince gave Jerod another smile. Picking up the pencil, he tapped the coin with it. “Mind listing off all the locations and dates of the attacks?”

     Thirty minutes later and Vince was walking back to their room with a list. It’d taken some time to get the full accounting from the Orc, as he had had to help customers as they came in.

     Grasping the knob, Vince stopped. With a smile at his own paranoia, he raised a hand and knocked gently on the door.

     “It’s Vince,” he said aloud at the door after a few seconds.

     Almost immediately after that, the door swung open and he was greeted by a wet-haired Dryad with a towel wrapped around her torso.

     She gave him a smile and stepped aside to let him in.

     Vince entered and looked around for a moment. The far bed had a lump in it that looked suspiciously like an Orc. Unmoving and likely sleeping.

     Letting his eyes move back to Meliae, he watched as she slithered into the other bed. She pulled the covers up to her nose and then pointed at the bathroom.

     “I’d invite you to share the bed… but you smell like horse and far too many miles under the sun. Go clean up, then come back and… dirty me,” said the Dryad. Her eyes watched him over the sheets, a mischievous light glowing in them.

     “Nymph.”

     Meliae made a musical sound and widened her eyes. It gave her an almost innocent look—if he didn’t know better, that is.

     She wasn’t as combative as Fes, but she was more forward in their private moments. Especially when it came to the bedroom.

     Chuckling, Vince stripped himself down to his birthday suit. Entering the bathroom, he felt a moment of confusion as he closed the door behind him.

     Light came in through the slatted blinds to reveal that the bathroom was still in use. The tub, specifically.

     It held a bathing green-skinned Orc. A lovely specimen of muscled athleticism. A towel was propped up under her neck and head. Next to the big tub on a stool was an empty cup, one hand resting nearby as if she’d finished it only recently.

     The water had a faint pink color to it and Vince had to wonder if they’d scented and oiled it.

     “The tea helped. The cramping stopped pretty fast. Hot water helps, oil smells great. Thank you,” Fes murmured.

     Oh. Her time for moonsickness.

     A couple things clicked into place for him.

     Fes had gone straight to bed the last few nights, leaving him alone with Meliae. He hadn’t complained about the change. He had thought that perhaps they were merely shaking up the pattern to keep things lively.

     Now it made sense. She hadn’t felt clean, or in the mood. Sending her second out to take care of him in her place.

     “While I’m glad to hear you’re not in pain…” Vince said softly. Fes’s shoulders tightened up at the sound of his voice. Her hands griped tightly to the sides of the tub. “I’m not Meliae. Forgive me, she sent me in here to bathe. Said I smelled like the wrong end of a horse.”

     Dark black eyes popped open and focused in on him. They then immediately fastened to his manhood before moving upwards to his face.

     She always had a predatory look. He couldn’t deny the fact that her bold and brazen looks always sped his heartrate up a bit.

     “You do smell like the wrong end of a horse. Clean up. When you’re done, you can have the tub.” Closing her eyes and settling back into the towel, she pointed with her free hand to the corner. “Use the scrub brush and bucket. Soap smells like Meliae.”

     Vince interpreted that comment to mean that the soap was herbal in nature.

     Smiling to himself, and pausing to get another eyeful of the bathing Orc, Vince went to the corner to begin scrubbing off their trip.

     Fes and Meliae coming with him on this journey was a mile of a difference between his lonesome journeys. The fact that he wasn’t alone, on its own merit, was an already amazing change. There was no possible way to put a value on someone watching your back, sharing watches with you. Splitting camp duties.

     Then there were the nightly romps.

     Grinning at the thought of it, he realized there was something he could do for his ailing Fes.

     Taking himself to the task at hand, Vince scrubbed at his skin until it turned red. Then lathered himself to excess. Washing himself twice after refilling the bucket.

     Soap came with the room. Paid for it. Use it all up. My soap.

     Water splashed out of the bucket as he tossed the filthy wash rag into it. Standing up, he stretched his arms back over his head and then settled back down.

     Fes opened her eyes as he turned around. A small furrow creased her brow for a moment and flashed away. She gripped the sides of the tub to brace herself to stand up.

     “No, no. Stay seated, Fes,” Vince said with a smile, holding out a palm to her.

     Fes looked mildly annoyed but settled back into the tub.

     “What are you doing?” asked the warrior.

     Vince gave no response and instead moved towards the tub. Putting his hand in the water, he found that it was still quite warm. There was no need for him to change the water for her.

     Sidling up beside her, he took the empty cup. Setting it to one side, he took the now empty stool and set it behind her. Taking a seat, he laid his hands on her shoulders and then began to work his thumbs and fingertips into her muscles.

     “Mmmmpfffhhh.” Fes relaxed immediately, her head resting back on the towel. Her dark hair hung limply over the edge of the tub.

     Vince worked slowly and methodically over her shoulders and neck, rubbing and pressing at the iron stiff muscles and soft slippery skin.

     Expanding the area he was working on, he reached up under her hair and started to work the base of her skull.

     “Please. Yes,” Fes murmured.

     Grinning wide at the request, Vince pressed his thumbs to the back of her head and worked steadily at her. Fes’s arms went slack and slid into the tub, her mouth hanging open, tusks in full view.

     Rubbing and pressing firmly he worked his way around the base of her skull. Inching towards her ears, he continued to knead her skin.

     Over her brow, down her cheekbones, along her jawbone, and down under her jaw.

     Black eyes slid open and watched him from an upside position.

     Smiling at her, he felt her jaw tighten up. Imagining she was going to say something, he slid his fingers just behind her jaw and waited.

     “My tusks don’t bother you.” It was more of a statement than a question.

     To answer her question, he teased her mouth open with his fingers and then dragged his thumbs along those very same tusks.

     Hard, sharp, deadly.

     “Nope. Why should they?” He was feeling a little flirty right now. Fes didn’t tease him like Meliae did, which gave him the opportunity to do so himself.

     Sure, she was physically aggressive, grabbing his ass or fondling him, but never flirty.

     “Cood bi yu,” Fes said nearly unintelligibly. Her teeth closing down on his fingers. Her teeth sank in but didn’t break the skin. Her lips closed and she watched him, waiting for his response.

     The sensation of her tender lips and strong teeth made his skin prickle. He was already at half mast from rubbing a beautiful naked woman. With the added sensations of her mouth, he wasn’t surprised to feel himself go fully erect in a heartbeat.

     “You could. You won’t. Now let go of my fingers or I’ll think terrible thoughts of what you can do with your mouth.” Vince quirked a brow at her and gently pulled back on his fingers. She had a good grip on him; not enough to hurt him, but he couldn’t get free without a little effort.

     Both eyebrows went up at that and her teeth slid apart.

     “You’d want that?” Fes asked, her eyes watching him.

     “Why wouldn’t I? A beautiful woman servicing me like that? Can’t threaten me with a good time there. Not something for me to ask for, though.” Vince leaned forward and brushed her lips with his own. “Now, shall I get you a towel, or would you like to soak a bit more?”

     She turned her head partway to the side and studied him for a few seconds. Her cheeks became a very dark green as she stared. Her eyes flicked down to his erect self nearly pointing at her.

     Fes turned over in the tub completely, splashing water over the lip. Before he could respond to that, her right hand reached out and gently cupped his privates. Her water-soaked skin was pliable and soft as she started to fondle him.

     Her left hand gripped his hip and pulled him towards her.

     Not wanting to risk stopping her, as who would ever say no to what he assumed she was about to do, he went with her pull.

     Her fingers massaged and rubbed the family jewels as her soft lips parted and slid around his tip.

     Not content with that, she pulled him closer until his thighs were pressed to the tub. In that one motion, she had buried his tip in the back of her throat.

     Giving him a firm squeeze with her fingers, she moved her head back. Easing herself forward again, she then started to smoothly bob her head back and forth.

     She kept her tongue writhing and swirling around him as her lips slid from tip to hilt and back again.

     Laying one hand atop her head and the other on her shoulder, he balanced himself, but made no move to direct her in any way.

     It was her show and her desire; who was he to dictate it for her?

     She’s really been paying attention to Meliae, shit.

     Rolling her tongue and pushing his tip along the roof of her mouth and down her throat, she had him lost in the pleasure of it.

     As she dragged her head back, she sucked firmly on him, her dark eyes moving up to watch him.

     Fes’s fingers slid up along the back of his sack to press and rub. He could feel her fingers pushing at him in a way that mimicked exactly what Meliae did.

     She hadn’t just been paying attention, but she’d clearly gotten pointers from Meliae.

     She was eager and willing, if not confident. Where Meliae found out what he liked and then played to that, Fes seemed more willing to explore and try to find different things. New things.

     Fes things.

     She made a small, questioning noise as her left hand snuck up and circled his base with her thumb and forefinger. Her fingers pressed in as her right hand squeezed his sack firmly.

     Between the vibration of her mouth and her fingers working him, Vince let out a rapid breath.

     As if by magic, he was right at the cusp of losing the small bit of control he had.

     “Fes, if you keep it up I’m going to cum,” Vince whispered, his fingers curling in her hair.

     As if it meant something entirely different to her, she made another small noise. Then she sped up.

     What had been a caressing yet steady suction up to this point became mind-numbingly crushing between her cheeks and tongue.

     Her right hand closed up on his balls tightly and pulled, squeezed, and massaged them. Not leaving all the work to her right hand, her left started to travel back and forth with her mouth, giving him another level of friction.

     Grunting, he felt his hand close into her hair and his girth swell up in size.

     Fes dove down to his hilt, pushing him deep into her throat, her left hand sliding away to grab his hip firmly. Keeping him there.

     Shaking, he felt his seed spurt out, his toes curling at the way Fes manhandled him. Her grip on his jewels tightened further, milking him.

     An audible gulp reached his ears as he felt Fes’s throat constrict on him, swallowing him down. Another full spurt and another swallow could be heard as she contracted down on him, devouring him.

     Then she pulled her head back rapidly as he felt a third shot leave him, followed by a final fourth ejection into her mouth, splashing her tongue and teeth liberally.

     Coughing as he exited her mouth, Fes turned her head to the side and spat up a glob of thick seed and saliva. Coughing roughly, she got up another bit before taking a deep breath.

     “Thick. So thick,” Fes muttered, her hand stroking him back and forth as her eyes turned up to him.

     Vince only nodded his head, her hand slowly working whatever he had left out.

     “Damn, Fes, that was fantastic,” Vince murmured, his breath fluttering at the continued attention she was giving his extremely sensitive manhood.

     Fes gave him a smirk and kissed the tip, then dragged her tongue over it.

     Vince shuddered from head to toe, wanting to curl up in on himself.

     As if sensing his desire to pull away, she pulled on him, her hand tightening around him. Looking up at him, she kissed the side of his twitching member.

     “Mine,” Fes declared, her hand giving him a squeeze to emphasize her point.

     Damn skippy it is.

     Fes sauntered out of the bathroom without another word after that, not even casting an eye at him.

     He wasn’t sure what victory she had apparently claimed, either over him or Meliae, but it was clear she was feeling like she’d won.

     Cleaning up quickly, Vince re-entered their room, only to find Fes fast asleep. She was sprawled out under the covers, taking up the entire breadth and width of the bed.

     Apparently it’s naptime.

     Looking to the other bed, he found Meliae under the covers, watching him.

     “Well. A couple hours till dinner. Maybe we—”

     Meliae flipped the covers off of herself to reveal she was nude. Nude and spread eagle on the bed.

     Giving him a brazen smile, she crooked a finger at him.

     His soldier jumped to attention and pointed Vince onward towards the Nymph.

     “What a fun day.”

     Chapter 9

     Vince glanced at the map they’d purchased on their way out of town. Putting his hands on his knees, he shifted to get comfortable in the grass.

     Meliae set a double handful of acorns on the corner of the laid-out paper. Squatting down next to it, she curled a lock of her hair around and ear, then turned her head and looked at the map in front of Vince.

     Vince had been staring at the smooth neck of the Dryad. At the base of her throat was a purple bite mark that he’d given her the night previous. For whatever reason, she drew out the aggression in him. She seemed to be thrilled by it and wanted more of it every time they had a go of it.

     Forcing his eyes back to the map, he pulled out a piece of paper. Flipping it open, he read over it. It was a list of all the places that had been attacked.

     “Right, so if we start marking them out…” Vince’s voice trailed off as he began setting the acorns down on each location.

     He could feel Fes leaning over him, watching him as he worked.

     “There,” Vince said, leaning back from the map.

     The acorns were spread out in a large area but were focused mostly around the farming area in the province of Salem. None of the attacks crossed north into Portland agriculture.

     “Strange. It’s all in Salem. There’s only one beast I know of that would hunt one particular area over another when the only difference is a name,” Vince said, waving a hand over the area.

     “Humans,” Fes muttered.

     Meliae nodded her head in agreement.

     “That seems like it to me. Suppose we’ll find out. Matches up with the lack of tracks, strange leavings, and everything else. Well, up until…” Vince paused, checking his note. “Two weeks ago. Corpses started getting left behind.”

     “A difference in the pattern?” Fes asked.

     “Different pattern. Different source,” Meliae disagreed.

     “Right. That makes even more sense if you check the last two attack locations,” Vince said, pointing out two different acorns. “Same day, same night, too far apart for them to have been the same creature, person, or otherwise.”

     Fes grunted. “We take the pattern breaker first.”

     “Agreed. Take the random element out first, and then we can re-evaluate our pattern,” Meliae said, nodding her head.

     Standing up, she brushed her hands against her hips.

     “Right.” Vince gave the map a flip, sending acorns everywhere. Rolling up the map, he looked westward.

     “Amusingly enough, that one seems to be hovering around Bellevue. It hasn’t struck Bellevue yet, though, which makes it a likely target. That’s the site of the original attack.”

     “We ambush it. Lay in wait. Then kill them.” Fes clapped her hands together, her armor rattling a little at the movement.

     “That very well could be, Fes. Though I’d like to see what we’re facing first. Who knows, it could be someone who’s hungry and starving. Maybe they’re not quite as capable as they thought they were?” Vince asked with a straight face. His goal wasn’t to demean or humiliate her, but to make sure she realized that extenuating circumstances could put people in difficult positions.

     Like attacking a Ranger and his two charges.

     Fes’s shoulders bunched up, her brow creasing. She took in a breath as if to argue, held it, then let it out in a rush. Her body posture deflated immediately, her forehead smoothing.

     Holding up a hand, she gave him a weary smile. “Thank you, husband. You prick me ever so gently.”

     Meliae scoffed at that. “No he doesn’t, you scream louder than I do. Then again, that’s your preference to wrestle with him, not mine. I’m all for being conquered, just not fighting for it.”

     Fes started laughing immediately, slapping a hand against her knee. Meliae gave the Orc a winsome smile as Fes lifted a hand in defeat. As the Orc met Vince’s eyes, she ended up only going deeper into hysterics.

     Chuckling to himself, Vince started walking over to his horse. He was glad they got along so well. Sometimes maybe a little too well. He feared the day they teamed up against him.

     Night had fallen quickly without Vince noticing. A good number of creatures and Wasters were crepuscular. Active at dawn and dusk. Having been on high alert for dusk, the change to night had been almost sudden to him.

     Now that the light had faded, the list of suspects had narrowed considerably. That or they were waiting at the wrong farm. There was always the possibility that Bellevue wouldn’t get a visitor this night.

     They’d baited the trap fairly well, though. Vince had convinced the farmer to leave out a cow as if it had escaped. To not be on guard or have guards out. To act as if everything were on a lower alert status but normal.

     He’d even covered the assumptive cost that the animal would be lost and paid out in standards.

     Vince was looking to collect his money back. The margin on this trip would be considerably smaller if he had to pay for the damn cow.

     Fes shifted irritably, her hands opening and closing twice. Meliae opened one eye, then closed it again after realizing nothing had changed. Vince shook his head and kept himself aware as best as he could.

     “This is stupid. There’s no guarantee it’ll even happen,” Fes muttered. Again.

     Vince didn’t respond and instead only nodded his head. She knew what his answer would be. He didn’t feel the need to voice it again.

     Looking off towards the plains, he swept his gaze in one direction, then the other. His ability to see at night gave him a leg up. A big one.

     Not too many humanoid species had developed night vision.

     The few that had weren’t the likely culprits here.

     Then again, this is the outlier. Probably a wolf or something stupid. More likely—

     A shadow flew towards him and his group. It’d simply popped up out of nowhere from a roll in the land he hadn’t noticed. They had maybe ten seconds.

     It was big. Big as a Centaur, if not bigger.

     “Scatter!” Vince hissed, drawing his saber.

     Meliae scurried off towards his right as Fes unsheathed her blade and took several steps to the left.

     Armored, armed, and with a height that fluctuated somewhere between five feet to seven feet, Vince couldn’t figure it out.

     It wasn’t until it was practically on top of him that he realized what it was. It had antennae and a human torso atop an ant’s body.

     A soldier ant, no less. A damn Waster soldier ant wandering around in a field.

     The breastplate was flat and colorless, matching the color of the ant’s abdomen. The head was covered in a helmet that covered everything and had two holes for the antennae. Shoulders, arms, and hands were also covered.

     He’d have to work hard to get his saber through the armor. Really hard. Or find a joint.

     Then the ant was on him, thrusting forward with a spear it had kept close to its side.

     Flicking his saber to the side, he deflected the spear and sidestepped the charging ant soldier.

     Spinning damn near in place, it turned and slashed at him with the spear.

     Dodging the strike with only inches to spare, Vince closed in on the bastard. Looking to lop off an arm and end this quickly, he whipped his saber in a horizontal slash at the hand holding the spear.

     Only to have it deflected by said spear.

     Then the soldier ant leapt backwards, revealing Fes charging towards its last location.

     “Damn him, I’ll kill him!” Fes shouted turning to chase after the soldier.

     Vince flanked out to the side of the ant, keeping his saber low and out in front of himself.

     Reaching behind himself towards his abdomen, the ant dropped his spear into what looked like a holding cradle strapped to its body. Then withdrew a different weapon.

     Fes was on him in a heartbeat, spinning her large blade in a wickedly fast slash.

     The ant deflected it lightly and lashed out with a counter. Fes blocked it head on and stared up into the helmeted face.

     Two scythe-like mandibles slid out of the helmet.

     Realizing what was happening, Vince sprinted forward.

     He knew the outcome, though, if he failed. The ant would bite Fes, effectively locking her in place. Then Fes would die, because that was when the stinger would come from below.

     A normal every day, ant’s poison wouldn’t kill. Painful, to be sure, but not lethal.

     But a Waster ant? A Waster soldier ant? If that stinger landed, it’d be death.

     The mandibles came down, snatching Fes’s shoulder, and the abdomen of the ant curled slightly. Then the soldier started to stretch its six legs, giving it additional height and room to spear Fes with its stinger.

     As the abdomen shot forward, Vince managed to wedge himself between it and Fes. It slammed into him with the force of a horse’s kick. The stinger embedded itself in his side and he felt the venom as it was injected.

     Fes freed herself from the ant’s bite with a blow from her hilt, the mandibles vanishing back inside the helmet. Stumbling backwards, the soldier’s stinger withdrew.

     Standing up and charging forward, Vince slashed left, then right. Parrying both attacks, the ant focused in on him even as it was pushed backwards under his attacks.

     Vince felt his heart hammer in his chest as the poison flooded his system.

     Snarling, Vince went aggressively on the attack. Slashing, thrusting, and slicing at the ant, he kept it moving back.

     He had to admit that the soldier was skilled. Very skilled. Vince was only a fraction faster, though the ant was considerably stronger.

     Catching a lucky break, the soldier mistimed a parry by only a millisecond. It gave Vince a chance to slap the blade clean out of the soldier’s hand.

     The soldier leapt towards his weapon as it bounced over the grass. Vince followed and lunged forward, looking to drive his blade into its abdomen.

     As if sensing his attack, the ant sidestepped and surrendered its chance to regain its blade. Instead, it pulled its spear back out and went on the defensive.

     Using the spear as a prod, it kept Vince out of reach while continuously retreating.

     “Why aren’t you dead?” asked the soldier, his voice deep and hollow sounding from inside his helmet. There was a strange quality to the voice, like the words were being forced through a mouth wired shut.

     “Welcome to your nightmare,” Vince said with a grin, and swiped at the spear.

     Fes and Meliae were trailing along the sides and a bit to the rear. They were trying to outflank the soldier, but the constant movement made the maneuver take longer and longer.

     One of the antennae bobbed once, the other oddly still and hanging limp.

     “This one yields,” said the soldier. In one motion, it stabbed its spear into the ground and then held up its hands. With a slow motion, it lowered itself down to a height equal to Vince’s.

     “What?” Vince demanded in a heavy breath, his saber hovering point first in front of him.

     “This one yields.”

     “I heard you the first time,” Vince growled out, unsure.

     “Then why do you ask for clarification?”

     “I… because.” Vince shook his head, his anger and adrenaline rapidly cooling.

     “Because why?” the soldier asked. It settled itself down on the grass completely, its head now barely reaching five feet.

     “Because you don’t just yield after trying to kill me,” Vince declared.

     In his head, it had sounded better before he said it.

     “This one tried. Failed. This one yields.”

     Fes came stomping nearby, her sword held at her side and ready to be swung around.

     “Fes… hold. He yields. I guess,” Vince said. Not quite willing to accept it, he kept his sword out.

     Soft footsteps came up behind him. A soft hum of curiosity announced the person behind him as Meliae. “Yield? I don’t understand.”

     “Nor I, but… here we are.”

     “This one yields.”

     “So you’ve said. What… what were you doing out here?” Vince asked, licking his lips.

     “Hunting.”

     “Hunting? The cow?” That didn’t seem quite right to him. A soldier ant was a ferocious thing that could tackle and eat a bear.

     “Yes.”

     “Why a cow? That seems… below the worth of a soldier ant.”

     “One antenna is damaged. This one’s ability to stalk, hunt, and track are… poor due to this,” droned the soldier.

     Vince digested that bit of information. Things started to make a bit more sense to him. He’d noticed that one antenna hadn’t moved much.

     Ants relied on them a great deal. It helped them scent out other ants, the situation, and those around them.

     That was the least of what he could attribute to it. Based on what he was hearing now and what he’d seen, it sounded like they did considerably more.

     “Don’t you have a nest? Couldn’t they patch you up? Pretty far afield for a single soldier ant,” Vince said. Lowering his saber to his side, he watched the soldier intently.

     “Dead.”

     “Dead? An ant colony? I’ve seen several. They’re not easy to exterminate.”

     “Dead. Flood. Collapsed many tunnels. Elves came. Killed all remaining and the queen.”

     “Clearly not all. You’re here,” Meliae said, stepping up beside Vince. She had her staff out in front of her, the iron shod tip pointed towards the ant.

     “Ordered to live. This one lives. This one yields to you. Likely you will kill this one. Order met, loss in battle. Death. Duty met.”

     Vince thought on that one. He was sure to the soldier it made sense.

     To him, it didn’t.

     Then again, a few months ago, I’d have already killed him and moved on.

     He could order it away and to harm no other humans. If it swore an oath, he’d believe it. They were notoriously rigid on duty and honor.

     Such an oath would be a bit of a death sentence, though. A soldier in this condition without a nest wasn’t likely to survive.

     What if I order him to follow me instead?

     This would be the test, then, he supposed. He couldn’t stand the thought of putting a collar around the soldier. It would stand against everything Vince believed in. Even when he’d simply killed Wasters, he’d never liked the idea of enslaving them.

     The alternative was again a death sentence.

     “As the one who defeated you, what if I requested you to serve me?” Vince queried.

     “This one would serve you who should be dead.”

     “What, your venom? There’s very little in the way of poisons or venoms that would actually bother me. I’m sure I’ll get a pretty bad case of hives and a rash in a bit, but… that’s beside the point.” Vince sheathed his sword and shook out his arms and shoulders.

     “You are skilled,” said the soldier ant.

     “That tends to be the case when you practice often and live by your sword. Meliae, can you fix his antenna?” Vince asked the Dryad, turning his head to the side to regard her.

     “Easily, but… is this wise?”

     Vince turned back to the soldier ant.

     “I would have you serve me. That, or I’ll grant you mercy and send you on your way east, demanding that you trouble humans no more. I’ll have your decision. Now,” Vince demanded.

     The ant’s hands slowly fell to his side, the head bowing under an unforeseen weight.

     Its options were clear and simple.

     “This one will serve you loyally in whatever way you deem fit,” whispered the ant.

     “Glad to hear that. I’d rather not send you to what I consider a death sentence so… that’s a load off my mind.”

     He meant it, too. It’d be nothing short of having taken the soldier’s life himself.

     “Take your helmet off so Meliae here can fix your antenna. Can’t have you working at fifty percent. What’s your name, by the way?” Vince gestured at the ant with one hand.

     Reaching up the ant soldier pulled off his helmet and wedged it under his armpit.

     Her armpit.

     “This one is Petra, master,” said the female ant soldier.

     Blonde hair cut short stuck out in nearly every direction. Plastered with sweat and tangled from the helmet, it looked like threshed wheat.

     Human-looking eyes watched him, haunted and a little glazed over.

     Crystalline blue in color and utterly unreadable. Her face was remarkably human. She wouldn’t be called pretty or beautiful by anyone anytime soon. She was no Meliae.

     Her lips were slightly parted, her face slack and her eyes partially lidded.

     Before anyone could say or do anything further, Meliae had stepped up and laid a hand on the damaged antenna. They came out from the soldier’s temples, and this one hung low across her brow.

     Several seconds later and the antenna started moving again.

     The lack of focus in Petra’s eyes cleared up as the antenna raised to the height of the other. Her brow smoothed and her lips pressed together in the barest of smiles.

     Huh. She’s cute when she doesn’t look like a wax statue.

     “Are you his servant?” Petra asked, her head swinging towards Meliae, the antennae dipping twice at her.

     “Second wife, actually. Fes, the Orc over there, is his first,” replied the Dryad, pointing to the warrior.

     The blonde head turned around to regard the Orc. Blue eyes scrutinized and picked apart the Orc rapidly. In return, Fes gave Petra a smile that bordered on a sneer.

     Petra dismissed her almost as quickly as she’d put her focus on her. Petra turned her head back to Vince.

     “What would be your will at this time?” asked Petra.

     Vince took a moment to collect his thoughts before responding.

     “We’re on a Ranger contract right now to stop the attacks here in the farmlands. How long have you been out here?”

     “This one has been here for two weeks.”

     Vince nodded and scratched at his jaw. That left everything still up in the air with the other livestock deaths.

     “Alright. We’ll camp out for the night,” Vince said, nodding his head. Turning to Meliae, he gave her a small smile. “Meliae, be a dear, would you please give me your collar? We didn’t bring any extra. You’re the one most likely to be confused with a human in comparison to Fes and Petra.”

     Meliae gave him a grin in return. “Oh? Does that mean I get to play the human wife accompanying her dashing Ranger husband? Perhaps I hail from an exotic location in the far northeast?”

     Reaching up, she unbuckled her collar and then held it out to Vince.

     Taking it from her hands, he turned to Petra again.

     The soldier ant regarded him with a strange countenance.

     Ignoring that, Vince stepped in close. With a few deft movements, and explaining as he went, he fitted the collar around her throat.

     Lifting it once, he let it fall into a normal position.

     “Keep it on whenever we’re out and about. You can pull it off when we’re at home,” Vince clarified, stepping back from the soldier ant.

     “This is a fake collar?” Petra asked, one hand raising to touch the item in question.

     “No, it’s a real collar. I’ve depowered it, though,” Vince explained absently. “This location is good enough for a campsite,” Vince said, looking around them.

     Petra nodded at that.

     “This one will collect her gear. After that, this one will be ready to serve her master,” Petra said. Her legs extended and she powered straight upwards.

     Vince had to look up at her as she now stood six and a half feet tall. Petra then clapped her helmet back onto her head.

     Skirting around him, Petra quickly picked up speed and was off and moving away from them.

     “Interesting. I hear that they have human anatomy downstairs as well,” Meliae murmured. Vince looked over to her to catch a smile spreading over her face.

     “Should kill her,” Fes muttered.

     Vince sighed and pressed a hand to the back of his neck.

     Fes hadn’t beaten Petra. If anything, she’d lost to her. Lost to her and Vince had put himself in a position to cover for her failure. He didn’t have to think very hard on the fact that Fes probably felt angry at the situation.

     He could only imagine the soldier ant being female would complicate things further.

     “I wonder if it’s true. Do be a dear, husband, and let me know if you find out,” Meliae said with a humming noise. She lifted her staff up and lightly prodded his lower abdomen.

     Fes’s face cleared up a fraction, her eyes becoming thoughtful.

     Dismissing all of it, Vince took a seat on the grass right there. Most of their gear was stabled with the horses in the farm owner’s barn.

     Which meant they’d be sleeping under the stars with nothing but the sky for a blanket.

     Vince started to scratch at his forearm, then the backs of his hands.

     He was breaking out in hives.

     Chapter 10

     Under the light of a new day, Vince’s plan hadn’t changed.

     Vince set the map down on the grass and smoothed it out. With a grunt, he settled down in front of it.

     “Removing Petra from the pattern…” Vince started. He began dropping small stones on each of the locations where attacks had occurred that hadn’t been Petra. “We’re left with the following.”

     Placing the final stone in place, the pattern was now very clear. Every location that had been hit was part of the Kingdom of Portland.

     There wasn’t a single farm hit in the Kingdom of Washington. There were multiple farms hit right across the border, but nothing in Washington.

     In fact…

     “If you look at it, it’s almost as if it started at the border and worked its way south, then east, then back north,” Vince said aloud, turning his head one way and then the other.

     A Waster wouldn’t care about boundaries. Nor would any normal beast.

     “So?” Fes asked.

     Meliae pointed at the line separating the two kingdoms. “This is the border?”

     “Yeah. Portland and Washington. All part of the west, but separate kingdoms. I guess you could call the whole thing an empire, then,” Vince said.

     “Mother used to tell me stories of Orc clans that had problems with infighting. One warrior would fight the other for a wife, only to lose a different one to someone else. Could this be the same? Two kingdoms fighting without soldiers?” Meliae leaned her staff against her shoulder and turned her head, staring at the map.

     “Very possible. Rangers don’t get involved in internal affairs, but we’d have to prove it was an internal affair first. Which would probably put us directly in harm’s way and make us the enemy of one kingdom of the other. I mean, who really wants to get their covert operations called out on the mat? Might also explain the Ranger disappearances and failed missions.”

     Vince frowned and rubbed his fingertips against his chin.

     A long, pale finger pointed at the most recent attack site. Vince followed it up to find the unarmored Petra leaning over the map.

     In direct sunlight, unarmored, and holding herself the way she did, he’d never figure her for a Waster.

     She had an athlete’s figure with just a hint of curve to her. Her hips were wider and her chest fuller than Fes’s.

     Her face had a definite cute quality to it, especially when she smiled. You could almost mistake her for a normal human.

     Well, from the nether regions up, at least.

     Below her private parts and beyond, her skin became dark, segmented, and firm. It was still warm flesh, soft, supple to the touch, but hard underneath. Hard like rock.

     Her legs were only a touch thinner than a human’s, though twice as long. Her ant abdomen came out behind her by only a few feet.

     Her armor and weapons were self-made. Much to his chagrin, they were things she’d made from the carcasses of fallen ant soldiers, probably.

     Vince didn’t know it for certain, but he got the impression she had been among the fighting elite of her race. There was no distinction in job duties from males and females in ant colonies.

     Only that there was a queen at the top.

     Looking at her species differently, she had an almost Centaur look to her. Except the fact that her lady bits were human rather than a horse’s.

     Centaurs are strange like that.

     He hadn’t realized any of this about Petra until he’d woken up and found her splayed out on the grass, completely nude, inadvertently giving him an easy view of her genitalia.

     Then again, the night previous had been mildly embarrassing for him. Smarting from her loss to Petra, Fes had claimed him roughly and mounted him in front of the ant soldier.

     The ant soldier had watched before asking Meliae a question that he couldn’t make out. After that, she seemed uninterested in the situation.

     Petra was staring at him, her blue eyes flat, questioning.

     Giving himself a small shake, Vince held up his hands.

     “I apologize, I missed the question. One more time, please?” Vince pleaded, hoping no one had noticed his lapse in attention. The Dryad had. Meliae was looking at him with a tiny smile. Thankfully, Fes seemed wholly into the map and was glaring as if intimidation would make it give up its secrets.

     “If this is a military organization, then this one would argue that they should have a staging area. Perhaps somewhere in the middle of this line of attacks. Sloppy to make such an easily distinguishable pattern, though,” Petra said smoothly, her finger tracing the line of attacks.

     Looking at it with that frame of mind, Vince looked towards the center area. There, near the center of it all, was an uninhabited area that was nothing more than trees and rocks.

     So boring and ordinary that it probably got a handful of visitors every decade.

     That being the case, Vince realized he’d have to investigate it, even if it was only in passing to the most recent attack site.

     Pressing a finger to that spot, he looked around at his party. “This’d be the place if that theory holds up. Or around here. I think we’d be best served to at least canvass the area. Even if we’re just passing through. We can make this trip today and still have time to make camp if nothing is there. I say we go for it. Now, even.”

     Meliae made a delicate frown, one finger pressing to her lower lip. “When we get closer, I’ll speak with the trees. Most aren’t willing to talk with me, but there’s usually one that’s chatty in every group.”

     Fes only grunted, turning her head away from the map and moving back to her mount.

     Petra looked at him with a raised blonde eyebrow. “The plan is a good one. This one would ask why you require an opinion?”

     “Because while this isn’t a democracy, I do value your thoughts,” Vince admitted, pulling the map free of the grass and shaking out the rocks. “No one rules alone. To believe so is to set yourself up for failure.”

     “The queen ruled alone,” Petra defiantly said.

     “And what happened when she died? Is there a nest left over? Did they even try to resist after that? To rebuild? To try again?” Vince asked, folding the map up.

     “No. No, they… we… this one did not. This one will think on your words.”

     “I.”

     “What?”

     “I will think on your words. Not this one. You are yourself, you’re not an ant drone, soldier, whatever,” Vince said, gesturing at her. Folding the map a final time, he slipped it into a saddlebag.

     “This one… I… will think on your words,” Petra said. Her legs straightened, and her head rose up to six feet.

     Can you ride an ant soldier?

     Vince’s thoughts came out from under him as his eyes studied her abdomen. Between her ant rear end and human torso was a small stretch of what he would call her “waist.” It’d probably require a custom saddle, but it might be possible to outfit her like that.

     Petra was strapping on her armor and speaking to Meliae, and had not noticed his gaze, for which he was thankful.

     His hearing caught on their conversation at the use of his name. His enhanced hearing could be dialed up or down at his need if he wasn’t distracted.

     It’d taken him time to get used to it—there were many noises in the night, after all—but it was worth it.

     Checking a strap underneath his mount, Vince focused on their conversation.

     Eavesdropping is only rude if you’re caught or admit it.

     “—ot a queen. Fes is his first wife,” Meliae said in a whisper to the ant woman.

     “You hold his scent. As recently as a day old, perhaps,” Petra said.

     Vince hid his momentary embarrassment by climbing onto his horse.

     Apparently, Petra could tell that he’d been with the Dryad before they’d set out.

     “Yes. I’m his second wife, remember?”

     “Second.”

     The women grew silent as they set on their way.

     Vince settled in as the rear guard while Fes led the way. Petra and Meliae took up the middle. Petra, of course, was her own mount.

     “Uh-huh, second. Fes believes it’s her duty as his first wife to find more wives for him. Wives that will make him stronger. Women with talent or strength.”

     “Duty. This one understands duty. Is this one the third wife?”

     Vince blinked at that.

     Sex with an Orc is weird enough; how would one even go about that with an ant?

     “No. If I had to guess the intentions of my silly tree, I’d say he didn’t want to kill you and offered you the only other choice he could. He’s quick to kill if he must, but slow to do so if he doesn’t have to.”

     “This one would know more of this situation.”

     Vince decided that was enough for him and tuned the conversation out, focusing on the job he had to do as the tail end.

     Getting ambushed now due to his lack of attention sounded pretty damn awful.

     Meliae turned her head to Vince, her hand resting on a tree. “They’re here. They move during the night and not during the day. They head straight north from here. Somewhere between ten and twenty. Trees don’t count very well, but he shared his memories with me. They were jumbled, but I made some sense of it.”

     Vince opened his mouth to ask a question and stopped, watching Meliae.

     The Dryad pressed a hand to her temple, taking in a breath. After a few seconds, she dropped her hand and gave her head a shake. “Sorry. Trees in human territory, that is, outside the Wastes, are… invariably loud or almost too quiet.”

     “Quite alright, take your time. Did you get an idea about what kind of weaponry they’re carrying? Or what kind of armor they wear?” Vince asked.

     “Swords, daggers, a couple of short bows. I think. Hard to tell, as they passed this way only during the night. Their armor was dark as well.” The Dryad seemed far more weary than she was letting on. Or so Vince believed.

     “Thanks, Meliae. Alright. I’d like to get closer and see if we can figure this out. If we can determine it’s political without engaging, and slip out with proof, our job is done and will be paid out by the Ranger guild. Questions?”

     Vince looked to Fes, who shook her head. She’d been quiet today. Vince wasn’t going to pry at her about it, either. She’d talk to him about whatever was bothering her when she was ready.

     Looking to Meliae, she also shook her head.

     Next was Petra, whose head was once again covered by her helmet.

     “This one would know what you wish of her, Master.”

     Vince took that as acceptance to his question.

     “Protect Meliae and keep her in the rear. Stay something like… fifty feet off. She’s our ace in the hole,” Vince asked. Turning to Fes, he gave a slight inclination of his head towards the direction Meliae had indicated.

     Out ahead of them was an open expanse of field, barren of trees and cover. Whoever had picked their location had done so with a mind for tactics.

     To his eyes, it looked like a fairly solid wall of vegetation that’d hide whoever was in there while providing an easy view of the surrounding area.

     Fes nodded and fell in behind Vince. Hunching his shoulders, he kept himself low and slunk along.

     He didn’t think they’d be able to make it in without being spotted, but he’d still make the attempt. After all, it was late afternoon and the sun was pitched fairly low in the west. They’d be fairly well highlighted to anyone curious enough to look south.

     As if his thoughts had reached out and alerted their quarry, a shout came up to the north of them.

     Seconds after that, bodies came boiling out of the trees and brush. Vince unsheathed his sword as he counted six charging them.

     They were armed exactly as Meliae had warned they would be. Unfortunately, they were also very clearly military trained.

     The six spread out to encircle them, slowing down from the run they’d started out at into a fast walk. Before they could settle in, he’d have to act. Beside him, he could practically feel Fes coming to the same realization.

     Vince hissed between his teeth and then leapt forward with all the speed he could muster.

     His saber snapped forward, the tip whistling through the air and cleaving through an unprotected wrist. Not letting the blow slow him, Vince took a half step to the right with his left foot while pulling his sword back.

     He sprang forward again, his sword extending and skewering the second man in the lower abdomen.

     Jerking his blade free as he passed the man who was crumpling in on himself, Vince spun on his heel.

     Fes had chopped a third man nearly in half and ended up a few feet off to his left.

     Before he could begin to celebrate the evening of the odds, Vince heard the crunch and clatter of more people coming from the camp.

     They’d underestimated Vince and Fes and only sent some of their number. They’d paid a price for that, and Vince didn’t doubt that now they were all coming.

     Vince saw Petra’s approach a fleeting moment before she arrived.

     Petra’s long, strange sword swept across in a horizontal blur. That one swipe took the lives of two men who had gotten close to one another. One lost their head while the other had the top half of their skull removed. The two dead bodies fell to the ground with a thump as their limbs spasmed.

     Fes roared and leapt at the last man, her blade snapping a hastily raised broadsword in half. The weight of the attack drove the man to his knees as her weapon carved down through his shoulder and into his midsection.

     Cruelly shoving a booted foot into his chest, Fes kicked him off the length of her sword.

     Vince looked to the oncoming enemies. A quick count gave him eight combatants rapidly approaching. They were all wearing headdresses that covered their faces.

     Eight of them, against three.

     Meliae stepped up behind him, her staff held out at her side.

     Four, I guess.

     Vince felt his mouth turn into a thin line.

     “Don’t be angry. I can’t sit back and watch you go into battle alone. A Dryad is supposed to protect her tree. Not hide in it.”

     “Stay beside me, then. Use the reach on your staff to keep people away. Look for openings, don’t actually engage unless there’s no other choice,” Vince muttered.

     Well, three and a half against eight.

     Their foes were starting to slow on their approach. They seemed confused and angry at the same time.

     Then Petra darted forward, her multi-jointed legs propelling her faster than he’d expected. Fes chased after her, yelling as she sprinted along. The two of them plowed into the six on the right and scattered them.

     Vince moved forward to immediately engage the two who were turning to join their comrades. With a flick and twist of his wrist, his saber snapped out, slicing along the foe’s shoulder and into their jaw with a crunch.

     Turning his attention to the second, he had a moment to register the fact that they were leveling a revolver at him. Turning to the side to limit his profile, he did the only other thing he could think of. Fingering a throwing knife as he moved, he spun it off from his side with a flick of his wrist. His aim felt true and he watched as it flew towards the man’s shoulder.

     Spinning end over end, it sped onward towards the target. Then Vince lost sight of the blade as it passed the gun. Then it went off.

     The boom of the pistol filled his ears and Vince tried to force himself forward to engage before they could fire another round.

     The cylinder started to rotate as they began pulling the trigger again.

     Green leaves and vines whipped up from the foliage at their feet. A mass of plant matter wrapped up around the cocked hammer and dragged the barrel towards the ground.

     A sapling bent to the side and tilted towards Vince’s attacker, then sprung outward. The tip of the small tree exploded as the green wood smashed through their unprotected throat.

     Gurgling, the attacker dropped the gun and pressed their hands to their ravaged neck. Blood flowed over their gloves like a plastic bag with a slit in it.

     Vince was stunned, his mind struggling to keep up with the situation.

     He knew magic existed, had even seen a bit of it here and there. But not magic that could directly affect a fight.

     From a Dryad, no less.

     Only truly powerful Dryads could control nature like what had just happened.

     Thoughts for later, fool. The fight goes on.

     Returning his attention to the second person, Vince found them on their knees, a hand pressed to their shoulder. Apparently he’d struck truer than he’d originally believed.

     Looking to Petra and Fes, he found the two finishing off the last attacker between them. Petra jabbed in a quick attack, forcing the man back a step. It gave Fes an opportunity to bring her big sword around in a slash that just about bisected the bastard in the middle.

     Both Petra and Fes’s eyes jumped over to him.

     “Clear,” Vince called out to them.

     “Clear,” Fes responded. Grunting, she leaned down and drew her blade across a corpse.

     “Finish them off, don’t leave them to suffer,” Vince said, indicating the bodies at their feet. Getting cut in half wasn’t always an immediate death, and the gasping agonal breaths he could hear only reinforced that.

     Dying wasn’t like the way stories described it. It could be swifter than a thought, and slow as ice in equal measure.

     Looking to his own duty, he pushed his saber into the chest of the man with the missing throat.

     There was no resistance as his blade slid into the spot the man’s heart should be. Withdrawing his saber, Vince turned to the one with the shoulder wound.

     “Wait, wait, I’m working for the kin—”

     The statement ended as Vince shoved the tip of his sword into the man’s chest and pushed straight into the heart. With a small twist, he made sure to dice the organ completely, giving the man only a few seconds to wait for his end.

     “Why?” Meliae asked quietly from beside him.

     “Because if I had heard him, we’d all be in an ugly situation between kingdoms. I’d be forced to give him aid, transfer him to the guild, and then sit idly by as two kingdoms probably went to war,” Vince explained, his voice soft.

     Wiping his blade on the now dead man, he sighed.

     “There’s always the possibility they’d try to claim you as repayment for their losses as well. I doubt it’d be upheld, but you three would end up in a ‘warehouse’ of sorts until this was finalized. Call me selfish, but I’d rather not let that happen. It’ll be bad enough when I report what my suspicions are without proof.”

     Taking a few steps back to the other corpse, Vince rooted around in the ground till he found the revolver.

     Squatting down, he eyed the piece with a frown.

     “Is that a gun?” Fes asked. She’d come up behind him while he was looking for it. “Never seen one. Was loud.”

     “That it is. Expensive, to say the least. Ammunition isn’t a readily available commodity. Especially for civilians. Or a bandit.” Vince sighed and picked up the weapon. It was a double-action revolver. “One could argue ammo itself is a form of currency. Especially for something like this, which has specific needs. Very specific needs. We’ll sell it to the guild. I already have a few at the house, but ammo is so expensive that… it’s just not worth carrying around.”

     “This one would argue that your life is worth more than a bullet, Master. Perhaps it’s time to carry one on the off chance something like this happens again,” Petra intoned somberly.

     “You’re probably right. Speaking of, thanks for the save, Meliae,” Vince said, looking up at the Dryad beside him. His eyes promised her a private conversation about her magic.

     Blushing the Dryad nodded her head, not saying a word.

     “Alright, loot all the bodies and stack ‘em up. Leave ‘em for the wild. It’ll help obscure what happened here.”

     Chapter 11

     They’d gotten lucky with the “spoils of war” from the dead and the camp they found after. Most of it was things they could pack easily and either take back home or sell without a problem to the guild.

     Most especially fortuitous was that one of the combatants had been a female Elf in a slave collar.

     That extra collar had immediately gone onto Meliae without any commands or requirements to put on it. It’d serve as a decent cover.

     They’d have to break it when they got back home, but that was a problem for another time.

     Right now, the situation was more of a political one. Vince would need to deal with what, to his mind at least, was a clear and obvious declaration of war between two kingdoms.

     One that’d probably plunge the entire area into an ugly and bitter, drawn-out war.

     The quickest way to undermine a country was to topple their economy or their ability to feed the population. In either of those situations, internal stability would usually fall to zero and bottom out rapidly.

     This wasn’t to say the country would immediately fall, but it would definitely put pressure on the government.

     If the problem was severe enough, that government might not be able to cope with, say, a sudden and furious assault from a neighbor. One that promised the citizens of the other food at a reasonable price. Perhaps jobs to earn the coin to buy it, too.

     At least, that was what Vince would’ve done. Destabilize, then attack.

     Now he had to convey that point to everyone involved, without actually saying it.

     The pop of a log shattering into flaming coal shook him from his thoughts.

     Looking to the side, he saw Petra, Fes, and Meliae lined up against the wall. Staring straight ahead. Unmoving. Silent.

     His license now had a third marker to denote Petra’s ownership. It gave Petra protection, yet also could create a problem if people started asking questions about when he procured her.

     Being forced to stand like statues was only the latest in the long list of slights they had to deal with.

     The sooner they left for home, the better. This whole area was a powder keg and the population didn’t seem to even realize it.

     From the back of the room, Vince heard the doorknob rattle and the lock click. Facing forward, with his back uncomfortably towards the door, Vince waited for whoever it was to join him and proceed with his debriefing.

     “Vince, thank you. Please remain seated,” said an older voice. “My name is Al, and I’m the senior guild representative to the Kingdoms of Portland and Washington. I’ve asked each kingdom to send a representative to join us based on your preliminary report. They have graciously acquiesced.”

     Vince said nothing and remained seated as requested. Stepping around his chair came three men. The first, dressed in a Ranger guild uniform, was who he assumed was Al.

     The second man had a pinched face and looked the part of the elder statesmen. Dressed in resplendent clothes, he gave off the impression of someone who grubbed for coins from everyone who asked him for a favor, then had the gall to turn around and expense a lunch on his employer.

     The third man was more interesting. Middle-aged, dressed in a military uniform, and… and familiar. Vince stared at the man, trying to place him.

     It tickled at his mind like a cut on his lip. The kind you wanted to run your tongue over repeatedly, feeling the sweet tingle of pain with each pass.

     On the edge of his awareness, he could feel everyone in the room. Each of the three felt like they were exactly who they should be to him.

     The cursory analysis he did with his extra senses was a normal thing for him. Its range was a measly ten feet, but it provided him a window into a person’s mind he had come to rely on.

     This was all normal and expected by him. So when the familiar man’s mind vanished from Vince’s senses, he only barely managed to control his surprise.

     The only people who had ever done that were his parents, who were well aware of his ability. More often than not when they wanted to hide something from him. Which only made it move obvious, really.

     Trying to look the part of an eager guilder, Vince swung his eyes to his own representative, visibly dismissing the other men.

     He knows I can sense him. Knows exactly what I can do with it and how to protect himself from me. How does he know? Does he know me? Did he know my parents?

     “First. Why didn’t you report in here once you were operating in the area?” Al queried. The question was said innocently enough, but it gave Vince a clue about the man’s mindset.

     “It isn’t standard procedure to check in with the guild. Such a thing isn’t mentioned in the handbook, guild rules, or even the lessons in polite behavior. I have no obligation to do so,” Vince said bluntly. He wasn’t going to beat around the bush. Technically, this man had no authority over him.

     Only his personal guild handler had any type of control over him. And that person wasn’t here.

     In addition to that, Vince had a sneaking suspicion that the “bandits” might have been on high alert if Vince had checked in here first.

     “Of course. Local custom would have Ranger’s checking in first. This would be your first time up this way?”

     “As a Ranger, yes.”

     Al nodded at that and seemed to set the matter aside.

     “Now, Vince, you reported that you suspect there to be involvement from a government agency, yet you have no corroborating proof or evidence of that. Could you elaborate on that for me?” said Al with a slimy smile.

     “Certainly. The crew we eliminated were very well armed, trained, and were conducting themselves in a fashion at odds with a bandit gang. We found a large number of tools, weapons, and other implements that were well beyond the means of what they were doing with those items.

     “That leaves two options. They killed and robbed an elite detachment of military-trained operatives. Or they were the operatives.”

     “Yes. I understand you’ve already sold all of those items to the guild at standard rates?” Al asked.

     It was a question he’d expected and had made sure to prep himself for it.

     In order to better service their people, and make money, the guild bought any and all loot at a higher rate than what they could get selling it to a merchant.

     “That’s correct. I notified the clerk that they would likely be declared as evidence upon the sale so that they could be itemized correctly,” Vince clarified. He didn’t want it coming back to him later that he’d withheld anything, so they’d simply sold it to them with the intent that it was all accounted for up front.

     “Good, good. You said they were well trained?” Al prompted.

     “Very much so. They were well defended, had planned extensively, and were honestly tough to kill. They underestimated us, much to their detriment.” Vince nodded, taking a sip of the tea he’d been offered earlier while he was waiting.

     “After dispatching of them and searching through everything we could put our hands on, it was more of what we found missing than what we found. As I’ve already said, their possessions were in excess of what you’d expect a bandit to have. They also had nothing on them that would identify them in any way, shape, or form. Down to even the clothes they wore. Nothing that could be traced to anything on anyone.”

     Al and the familiar man frowned at that. The weasel-faced man made a harrumphing noise.

     “Doesn’t mean anything,” said the familiar man.

     “Ah, beg your pardon, Mister…?” Vince prompted.

     “Seville. Seville will do fine.”

     “Beg your pardon, Seville, but it doesn’t add up. Bandits that are attacking farms to simply butcher livestock and… what, sell the meat? There were no wagons, no wagon tracks, and no meat anywhere around the camp. Which means they didn’t bring it back with them. Either they ate it or dumped it. If they ate it or dumped it, why bother?” Vince asked, holding up his hands in confusion.

     “Why would well trained, military-specced, heavily armed bandits do little better than steal livestock?

     “And to what end? To… eat it? No, a group like this would be raiding roads and merchants. Nothing about this makes sense. The only valid possibility then becomes that they were being paid by someone else to do these things.”

     Vince paused to take another sip from his tea. He’d said more than he’d wanted to, but they’d limited their responses to his statements.

     The sinking feeling in his stomach warned him that not only were they aware of this, all of them, but that they all knew each other was aware of it as well.

     “Is that all?” Al asked.

     “All that I can report on. As you yourself said, there is no evidence to support any of this. This is all supposition.”

     Weasel face on the left peered at him suspiciously. “You’re surprisingly well spoken for a Ranger.”

     Vince quirked his eyebrows at that yet said nothing, instead looking to Al to gauge his response at the implied insult.

     Al waved a negligent hand at the comment and stood up.

     “You’re dismissed, Ranger Vincent. Please remain for a time so we may speak privately later. I’ll seek you out in the next ten minutes or so,” Al said brusquely.

     Vince stood and nodded his head to Al. Turning without a word, Vince made his way to the exit. With a glance to his party, he gave them a slight tilt of his head toward the door.

     Fes, Meliae, and Petra were already in motion, filing in behind him. Stepping out of the room, Vince held a finger to his lips.

     Nodding in unison, his group said nothing.

     They made their way up to their rooms in silence. Only the soft hiss of their boots on the wooden floor could be heard.

     It was unsettling how quiet the building was. Eerie, even.

     As the guild had provided them rooms inside of the compound, they’d only need to walk for a minute or two to reach their small bit of privacy. The rooms had been granted since their mission had taken a sudden and political turn.

     It wasn’t until Vince had closed and locked the door behind them that he felt anything bordering on “ease.”

     “Load of shit,” Fes grumbled, flopping into a chair. “They knew. Wanted you to spell it all out for them.”

     “So it would seem,” Vince murmured, walking over to the single table their room had. “This all… worries me.”

     “This one would agree. This place is built for the life of many, yet we are all that are here.” Petra eased her abdomen down onto the bed. It was probably the closest she’d ever get to actually sitting down. A normal chair wouldn’t accommodate her, after all.

     “Yes. I asked one of the plants in the lobby. Apparently this lack of people is very out of the ordinary. There’s no way to really get a sense of time from a plant, but if I had to guess, it’s been like this for about a month.” Meliae took the seat across from Fes, directly in front of Vince.

     Peering down at the Dryad, he got a lovely view of her cleavage. It took him a second to realize she’d deliberately placed herself and arranged her posture in such a way to present him that view.

     “I’ll check the logbook, but I’d bet that everyone has been tasked with missions that are low risk, high pay, and for long periods of time, or very far away. Someone has singled out the Ranger guild,” Vince admitted, tearing his eyes from Meliae’s impressive assets.

     “This one would remind her master that the first step to conquering a foe is limiting their ability to wage war. If the guild has no soldiers, they cannot fight. If they cannot fight, they are no longer a concern for one side, or the other.” Petra rubbed one hand across her bare upper arm.

     Since coming into the compound, she’d been forced to unequip her armor and wear normal clothing.

     She still seemed rather ill at ease with her wardrobe.

     For now, she was wearing Fes’s clothes since she was the closest in approximate size to her. The vest she’d donned seemed stretched at the shoulders and across the front. It clearly didn’t fit as well for Petra as it did Fes.

     It almost looked like she was going to pop a button if she thrust her chest out.

     Need to buy her clothes. Don’t have time to dick around here in danger town. We’ll just have to hit somewhere on the way home.

     “You’re right, Petra. That’s the very reason I’d like to be gone as soon as possible. Let’s pack up and get our shit together. The moment we’re done with Al, I want to be on the road. Even if we’re leaving at midnight. Can’t get away from this place soon enough,” Vince said with a nod of his head.

     In the meantime, we can drop a few inquiries about Seville. He knew me. Or at least, knew what I could do.

     Fes grunted and then folded her arms under her chest. “Can we use the training field? I can see it from the window. Petra and I should train. Spar, even.”

     Vince looked to Petra to make sure she was alright with the situation, though he had to admit to himself he didn’t want to get between the two of them.

     Since Petra had joined the group, Fes had been domineering and aggressive towards the ant-girl. He could probably fix the situation by pointing out the obvious and forcing them into the right roles.

     Vince started to open his mouth to do that when Meliae kicked him in the shin under the table. Then did it again.

     He wasn’t stupid, nor was the Dryad. She was well aware of what was going on as he was, and she was clearly of the opinion that he shouldn’t involve himself. At least not yet.

     Smiling at Fes, he nodded his head.

     “That should be fine. If anyone asks, tell them I told you to, but to not leave the compound, or with anyone else.”

     Giving Vince a feral grin, Fes left, Petra following along mutely.

     No sooner had the door clicked shut than he looked to Meliae.

     “Did you have to kick me? I admit I’m made of sterner stuff than most, but that felt hard enough that it might have actually left a bruise,” Vince told the Dryad with a smile.

     “No, I didn’t. But then I wouldn’t have an excuse to crawl under the table to wrap my lips around it and make it better,” teased the Dryad.

     Being a normal male, Vince felt his member leap upwards at the underlying suggestion. Nevertheless, he wanted to hear more.

     “Don’t you mean kiss it?” Vince asked, feeling his heart speed up a fraction.

     Meliae tilted her head to one side, watching him with a smile instead of responding. She leaned forward instead, her top folding slightly in the front to expose herself more to his eyes.

     Nymph. She’ll eagerly perform in front of others, but she’s the most bold when alone.

     “A pity we’ll have to wait for the guild mediator to leave for you to find out,” said the Dryad, leaning back in her chair, closing up that view.

     Not trusting himself to say anything, Vince nodded his head wordlessly.

     Vince had no way to check, but he knew it’d been longer than twenty minutes since he’d left the meeting room.

     He and Meliae had simply spent the time chatting about mundane things, which, while pleasant, didn’t solve his growing irritation.

     Make me wait much longer and we’ll just leave. Politeness and pay be damned. Something isn’t right here.

     At that thought, the door shook under three rapid knocks and then swung open.

     Mastering his expression before he could reveal anything, like the fact that the door had been locked, Vince watched Al enter the room.

     The man seemed mildly disappointed, to Vince’s eyes. He didn’t even want to begin to guess what he could be possibly disappointed in.

     “My apologies for making you wait. I’ll keep this brief,” Al said, coming to stand in front of the table.

     “As you may have noticed, the vast majority of the Rangers who call this hub home are out on missions. I was hoping you’d be willing to stay on for a while until a few return,” Al said smoothly.

     “I’m afraid not. We’ll need to be heading back immediately.” Vince stated it as fact.

     “I see. I’ll be activating the emergency contingency of your Ranger contract, then. You’ll receive pay equal to your average over a month’s period for the last three months, broken out by day. Plus ten percent. As stipulated in the charter.” Al reached into an inner fold of his clothes and flipped out a document in front of Vince.

     Truth be told, Vince wasn’t surprised. He’d thought of all the ways he could be forced into remaining here.

     Which was why he’d spent a few hours reading through this particular section of the charter one night previous.

     “My standard rate of pay, based on what you’ve stated, is two and a half standards per day. You can confirm this by pigeon, of course, or take my word for it,” Vince said without a hint of emotion.

     “What? That’s… fine. After lodgings and meals—”

     “Actually, as part of the same section in the charter, all meals and lodging are to be provided by the hub enacting the charter. In the next section, it details out that period of activation cannot be longer than a month. It also states you’ll need to specify how long I’m to be on retainer.” Vince picked up the document in front of him and read through it quickly.

     Al stood up straighter, his mouth turning up in a small smile.

     “The full month,” he said immediately.

     “Then I can request my entire pay up front, as the contract is pre-set for the maximum,” Vince said. After a moment, he found the spot on the document that listed the time to be hired. Filling it out for a full month, Vince then signed the sheet. “Please have my pay ready for me tonight. I believe that works out to be seventy standards for twenty-eight days. You can have it delivered with my payment for the contract I’ve already settled.”

     Vince looked up at Al and gave him a pleasant smile.

     Feeding and caring for four people, paying out his fee, and the contract completion all in the same month.

     An expense line that heavy would get the main Ranger guild’s attention. There was no doubt that Al would be getting a visit from an account manager after his finances were reported up for the month.

     Al’s skin had a faint sheen to it and had taken on the color of parchment.

     Should have probably tried talking to me first rather than attempting to bully me, you fuckwit.

     “Fine. I’d like you on patrol on the border between the two kingdoms. I expect to see your patrol route on my desk tomorrow morning,” Al ground out between his teeth.

     “Then I shall be on patrol on the border. Per the charter, I’m allowed to requisition anything I think I’ll need during my mission,” Vince said easily, already going through a mental checklist of the things he’d be taking with him.

     “I’ll requisition the appropriate supplies tomorrow morning before I depart. Should they be lost or damaged, you’ll of course be responsible for them, as you’re my employer. I’ll be sure to earmark every item accordingly.”

     Al snapped his teeth together with an audible click.

     Snatching the contract off the table, Al turned and fled the room.

     “And you wanted him as an enemy because…?” Meliae asked after Al departed. The sound of his stomping boots echoed in the hallway.

     “He already was one. For whatever reason, he signed off on every Ranger being gone. He’s putting himself between two kingdoms. This mission is a suicide run meant to get us killed.

     “No, he was already an enemy. I only made it obvious I was aware of it. Once we leave here, we won’t be returning. We’ll complete the mission as required and little more.”

     Vince sighed and leaned back in his chair, laying his hands flat on the table. “We’ll need to hit the armory shortly. He’ll figure he can get the more expensive things out before we get there.”

     “I see. Well, I better hurry up, then,” Meliae murmured. With a smile, she slid out from her chair and under the table.

     Before he could react, she’d already unhitched his belt, yanked open his trousers, and pulled his length free of his pants with soft fingertips.

     Not being able to see what she was about to do definitely added to his arousal. In the few seconds it took her to engulf him with her mouth, he was already halfway to a full hard-on.

     He could feel the soft wetness of her lips and tongue as she eagerly began to bob her head back and forth. There was a soft, rhythmic thump as the back of her skull tapped the underside of the table with each stroke of her mouth.

     Tender fingers began to stroke his hilt as her tongue slid along the underside of his girth. Each time she got to the base of him, when he could feel his tip in her throat, her tongue slid out from the bottom to lick at the top of his sack.

     “Damn, Meliae,” Vince whispered. His fingers curled inward into his palms as her head came back up, bumping the table again.

     “Mmmm?” murmured the Dryad, vibrating his length in her mouth.

     Her fingers tightened up on him, her other hand cupping his jewels and giving him a playful squeeze.

     “Never mind, just…” Vince trailed off as her head moved back down.

     Vince leaned back as her head bumped the table once more. “That feels great.”

     “Mmm,” Meliae cooed, sucking on him as her fingers playfully toyed at him.

     Making a sudden decision, Vince pushed the table backwards.

     He wanted to dominate her. To own her. To make her his. To claim her powerfully. Repeatedly.

     Meliae’s eyes opened slowly as the table skidded away; full and green, they lacked a pupil. She was hilt deep and her moist lips were melded to his flesh.

     Reaching down, he curled his fingers into her hair with both hands. Getting a firm grip, he began pushing and pulling her head back and forth swiftly.

     She gurgled, a cough stuck in her throat as her hands gently pushed at his hips. Her resistance was false, false and designed only to egg him on.

     Her eyes begged him to destroy her in whatever way he saw fit, even as she pretended to fight him with her hands.

     Grunting, he worked her head back and forth like it was his to do so. Her mouth pulled at him, sucking hard as he pushed her head back, and eagerly moving down when he pulled on her.

     He wanted to just unload it into her mouth right then and there.

     With a serious mental effort, he pulled her head back completely.

     Gasping for air, Meliae gazed up at him with some emotion he couldn’t identify. Precum and drool trailed from her mouth and down her chin. She ran her tongue over her full lips, making a show of it.

     Grabbing her by the shoulders, he lifted her up and pushed her towards the bed.

     Stumbling over her own feet, she flopped halfway onto the bed. She’d managed to bend herself over the bed. She turned her head and stared back at him, those full green glowing eyes demanding that he destroy her.

     Even now, each movement was intentional. Designed to draw more and more ownership of her from him.

     Lining up behind her, he yanked her pants down. His left hand pressed into the soft, luxurious skin of her hip as his right hand guided his tip into her small, narrow slit.

     Pushing forward, he entered her in a single stroke. Her wet insides pulsed and clamped down on him as her body shuddered.

     Reaching up, he tangled his right hand into her hair and pushed her into the bed as he began to hammer into her.

     Meliae reached up and began to very gently tug at the hand on her head, as her other hand reached back to push ever so lightly on his hips.

     Even as she pretended to fight him, she angled her hips and pushed back into him.

     Vince plowed into her over and over, her small body rebounding each time. Her hands continued at their make-believe resistance as she moaned and thrust back at him.

     There was nothing left in Vince at this point. He’d already been at his end back at the table. Only through wanting to break her had he made it this far.

     His body tightened up as it prepared to climax.

     A small movement at the window got his attention as his member expanded. Looking up, he found Petra watching him through the glass on the other side.

     Meliae had noticed as well, her head turning under his hand to look up at the soldier-ant.

     He felt Meliae tighten up underneath him, even as his seed spilled out, filling her.

     Unable to break eye contact with Petra, or even stop himself at this point, he mechanically thrust into Meliae a few more times, pushing his seed deep into her.

     Running out of genetic material, Vince stood there, looking at Petra, who stared back at him.

     Untangling his hand from Meliae’s hair, he set it on her other hip, holding her there.

     Petra tilted her head to one side, and then disappeared from the window.

     “We’re on the second floor,” Vince said.

     Meliae nodded her head.

     “She was there since Al came in. She was on guard, I think,” Meliae murmured sleepily. Nuzzling her face into the blankets, she rolled her hips a little.

     “I see. And… you wanted her to watch?” Vince asked cautiously.

     “I want everyone to see me with my tree. I’m the luckiest Dryad ever.”

     Meliae started to grind her hips into him while her hands roamed down her body towards him. Her fingers grabbed a hold of his hips and pulled on him.

     “We need to talk about this tree thing. Magic as well. And your eyes.”

     “Of course, Sweetling, anything for you. But… until then… again?” asked the Nymph.

     Chapter 12

     Vince dropped the bar in place, locking the armory door from the inside. The clerk who had escorted them here had left them alone. Probably to go run down Al and warn him about what was happening.

     “Alright, first things first. Let’s do a quick pass to see what’s available first before making any decisions. Keep in mind we’ll be wandering around the border. I don’t plan on giving that ass an actual patrol route. Going to just give him a map with the border circled for miles on either side.

     “While we’re figuring out what to take with us, you can start teaching me about Dryads. Let’s start with your tree,” Vince said. He’d waited far too long to ask these questions before this point.

     Meliae shrugged her shoulders as she began to walk down an aisle.

     “I’m sure you’ve heard the tales. They’re fairly accurate. A Dryad must remain near their tree. All Dryads are given a seed from their mother’s tree as they reach adulthood. If the seed should remain unplanted for too long, the Dryad dies. If the planted seed becomes a tree and dies before it can make more seeds, the Dryad dies.”

     Vince nodded his head; that all matched what he knew.

     A frown spread over his face as he skipped over a rack of weapons. They were all standard things, nothing out of the ordinary.

     “Consider me vain, but I’m quite proud of my tree. It’s singular and unique.” Her tone was light and almost playful. She was leaning over a rack of spears.

     “Your tree being… me,” Vince said, supplying the unspoken answer.

     “You’re indeed my tree. I… can’t remember what I was thinking when I did it. Not very well, at least. I was dying. I remember smelling blood. Blood everywhere. Your blood.” Meliae wrinkled her nose at the weapons before her and moved on.

     “I… remember the sweet stench of it. Can remember the taste of it in the air. Metallic and earthy. The scent of raw power, strength. Death. Not yours, but others’.”

     Vince began skipping entire racks of weapons, moving deeper into the guild armory. Meliae followed behind him though at a slower pace.

     “My mother gave me all sorts of advice on where to plant my tree. Looking for places of power. Magic or life-soaked energy would be preferable. Something rich in the elements that could provide it with more than a normal tree would need. Obviously planting it in a human never came up, simply because a tree shouldn’t be able to survive inside a living body.”

     “Makes sense. Why plant it in me, then?”

     “The amount of power your blood carries is enormous. It’s constantly refilling regardless of how much is sapped from you. My tree is embedded just inside your ribcage. Its very roots have spread throughout your body, mimicking your veins. In fact, it’s even encased the vast majority of your arteries. It has not a single branch, leaf, or twig on it. It’s a gnarled and twisted thing, stunted and never having tasted the light of day. Yet it already rivals my mother’s in power. I begin to wonder if perhaps it would do better if it shrunk down to a smaller part of you.”

     That brought Vince up short. He scratched at himself where Meliae had pushed her seed in.

     “Which leads us to the next question you had. Magic. Due to my tree’s unprecedented growth, I can utilize magic. Not as well as those Dryads who developed it naturally over time, but pound for pound, I’m as strong. If not more so.”

     Vince grunted and passed over another set of weapons.

     Makes sense. A little unnerving, but makes sense.

     “And your eyes?” Vince asked.

     “A little harder to explain. When I use magic, when I connect with my tree, or… when I let myself relax, that happens. I’m sure you’ve… noticed my nature?”

     Vince chuckled at that. “That you want me to break you and treat you like a plaything? Yes, I’ve noticed. Shall I attach a nametag to your color? Maybe give you a new name? Something more befitting a pet? Walk you around town in a swimsuit made of string and a napkin?” Vince joked.

     Looking back at the Dryad, he watched as her eyes rapidly shifted into a solid green, her skin flushing.

     “Yes, please. Wait. No,” Meliae huffed, placing a hand to her head. Her eyes changed back to normality. Slowly.

     “Dryads can only be female. We need a male from another race to give us children. To that end, we… well, we end up with a need to be possessed. It’s normally tied to our age and power. I’m constantly fighting with my own nature because I’m unbalanced.”

     “And is this something that will continue, or will it change as you get older? Not that I’m complaining, mind you. Rather fun. Not quite sure how I felt about the exhibition for Petra, though.”

     Vince returned his attention to the task at hand. They were quickly coming to the end of the room. Hopefully he’d find what he was looking for here. Everything up to this point had been a bust.

     “I’m getting better at controlling it. Especially since becoming pregnant. It’s been significantly easier to control. As to Petra, does it matter? She watches nightly anyways.”

     Not really wrong there, she does watch. Wait.

     “Oh, is that what you call a rifle?” Meliae asked, her hand pointing to a series of glass cases.

     Vince felt his mind split in two different directions. One side of his brain followed the word “pregnant” and the other half “rifle.”

     “Wait, wait, back up. Pregnant?” Vince asked, his voice trailing up an octave unintentionally.

     “Hm? Yes. Don’t worry, though. Dryads can control their pregnancy as easily as breathing. We’ll not be having children anytime soon. Well, or at least until we’re settled. The harder part will be deciding on which.”

     Meliae walked up to the glass case and flipped it open.

     Inside were several single-shot rifles from the World War One period. The price for those alone would be substantial. The ammo would be costly, but providing one could retrieve the spent casings, they could be reloaded.

     “What do you mean, deciding which?” Moving to the glass, Vince fetched out four of the rifles in total. He held up one to Meliae. “And yes, they’re rifles. Springfield o-threes. Get familiar with it, you’ll be holding one.”

     “Dryads can get pregnant multiple times. There’s no limit. As an egg is impregnated, it’s withdrawn into the lining for safety. The whole process is necessary since Dryads have such a long life. We outlive our partners with our lifespan. A full tree’s lifespan, which can be very long. And what I mean by deciding which is your… ahem… genetic material is very efficient. I stopped counting after fifty. You seem to catch a few every time we couple.

     “Do I have to use a rifle?” Meliae pressed her lips together, taking the rifle from Vince’s hands.

     Vince shook his head, trying to clear out what Meliae had explained to him. What had he expected? Unprotected sex would ultimately result in pregnancy.

     He hadn’t expected to be able to impregnate Wasters.

     That’s my own problem for not asking.

     “Uh, is Fes…?” Vince asked cautiously. Reaching down, he opened the bottom of the case and found multiple cans of ammunition for the rifles.

     “Once, so far. It wasn’t viable. Impregnating an Orc in a few months is no mean feat. I’d consider it lucky to happen in a handful of years, let alone months. From what I can tell, though, Petra will be more likely to be fertilized with little difficulty. Physical differences aside, you two are simply more compatible as species.”

     Sighing, Vince knelt down and started pulling out the ammo cans.

     Not something I really figured I’d have to start worrying about, getting enslaved Wastelanders pregnant.

     “Don’t worry, I can keep Petra infertile until Fes is pregnant. We’ve already discussed the situation between us, no need to be concerned.”

     “Seriously, Meliae? Why am I not part of this conversation? Maybe I don’t want any of you pregnant?” Vince grumped, closing the cabinet after hauling out a total of four canisters.

     “I admit I’m only partially informed of human culture, but I’m well aware of the fact you could take precautions to prevent pregnancy. Therefore, you’re actively trying to impregnate us.

     “Besides, I’m happy to have children with you. I can’t wait to take you to my mother to show you off,” Meliae said, her energy and excitement becoming increasingly apparent with every word.

     “Huh? Why? After this, we need to head over to the messenger pigeons. I want to send a note off to our own guild hub about this whole thing. Things aren’t right up here.” Vince tied two of the lids together with one of the leather cords he kept wrapped around his belt. Giving it a tug he tied the second one and slung both over his shoulder. Grabbing the two rifles under his other arm he looked to Meliae.

     “Because I’m a Dryad that can go anywhere. Dryads don’t typically see their relatives. Ever. But me? My tree is special. Unique. I can go… wherever I can convince my tree to take me. Or simply go somewhere else to take me.

     “I’m sure I can be convincing.”

     Meliae sighed and hefted the rifle to her shoulder, staring down the sight aperture.

     “Besides, what other Dryad can claim their tree got them pregnant?”

     Vince felt his mind starting to drift as they meandered along. They were ten miles north of the border, walking sedately through a forest of trees and leading their horses.

     It’d been a quiet two weeks since their departure. Easiest money he’d ever earned at this rate.

     At no time did Al ever instruct them on how long they should patrol the border. Nor did he ask for status updates, reports, or check-ins.

     Which meant Vince was free to wander aimlessly on either side of the border, so long as he patrolled it. For a month.

     Then he’d write up a letter to Al, send it from a town hub, and be off on the way to the south.

     No fuss, no muss.

     Petra lowered herself, bringing her head down to the same height as his own at his side.

     Turning his head, he regarded the soldier ant. She’d neither said nor done anything out of the ordinary since she’d watched himself and Meliae.

     “Something you need to say, Petra?” Vince asked her, his head turning to the front again.

     Ranging out ahead of them, Fes was running point. Meliae was walking rear guide with a locked and loaded rifle.

     “This one would know what your plans are with her,” Petra asked quietly. Her helmet gave her voice a hollow echo.

     “Not sure I understand your meaning. My plans are fairly simple. Take you home, get you situated, do the summer market, hunker down for winter. We’ll be cutting it close at this rate, but we don’t exactly have a choice.”

     Vince could see in the distance up ahead the trees were starting to thin out. They hadn’t taken this route previously, so it was new territory.

     By his request, they normally traveled at night and camped in as secluded a spot as possible during the day.

     They were doing everything they could to limit the possibility of being spotted. By anyone.

     Today, they’d changed it up so they could cross the expanse ahead of them during the night.

     “But what of this one?” Her armored fist made a soft thump as she struck her torso.

     “I don’t understand. The same as Fes and Meliae. Live, be happy, try to survive in this shithole of a world,” Vince said it offhandedly. He was distracted by the fact that up ahead the tree line wasn’t just thinning, it was actually gone.

     And there was a smell in the air that rose the hair on his neck.

     “This one understands.”

     “Good, get your rifle out. We’ve got a change in landscape up ahead and I smell smoke. Too early to be cooking food.”

     Turning his head, Vince made eye contact with Meliae and motioned at his side.

     Up ahead, Fes had stopped behind a large tree trunk.

     Creeping up beside her, he watched as she lifted a hand.

     Somewhere between two and three hundred yards distant, he could see what looked like a village. It was settled against a hillside. To his eyes, it had the look of something that splintered from a larger settlement.

     Planned civilization.

     Wooden buildings had been built and clustered closely together. A single avenue running from the main road in the distance brought them trade and traffic.

     Truth be told, it looked like it could easily hold a hundred citizens. Vince could imagine it as a peaceful place.

     If it weren’t for the fighting in the streets and around the buildings.

     Everywhere, there were groups of soldiers and villagers battling one another.

     Vince frowned, his brow furrowing as he concentrated on the scene.

     “This one thinks that this is… not correct,” Petra said.

     He spared the woman a glance before he turned his head back to the battle.

     “In what way?” Vince asked. It hadn’t looked quite right to him either, but he couldn’t put a finger on it.

     “They fight more aptly than the soldiers. They are also well armed, though without armor. They are not what they seem. At least to this one, that is how they appear.”

     Now that she’d said it, Vince couldn’t help but see it too. The villagers weren’t losing; they were systematically driving the soldiers apart. Losses weren’t piling up, but it was obvious that the weapons were breaking through armor, and it was only a matter of time.

     “Right. Executive decision time. Unsling rifles and keep ammo counts. I’d like to retrieve as much brass as we can. Start shooting at villagers when ready. Fire at will. We’re in the Kingdom of Washington, so I’m going to assume these soldiers are lawful in their business here.

     “Fes, I’d like you to remain vigilant and on watch. They could just as easily send someone our way to take care of us as ignore us,” Vince explained, pulling his Springfield from the saddle holster.

     Fes grunted while unhitching her blade. She took a few steps away from the rest of the group and rolled her shoulders.

     Vince found himself thankful for the time they’d spent practicing shooting on the trip. It hadn’t taken very long for everyone to get fairly acquainted with their new weapons.

     “I’d mark it at something like two hundred yards. Petra?” Vince asked.

     Of all of them, she’d proved to be the most versatile with the weapon, and seemed to have a good eye for distances.

     “This one dislikes to correct her master, but she would put it at two hundred and fifty.” Petra had already lifted her rifle to her eye and was staring down her iron sights.

     Vince sat down and lifted his knee. Laying his elbow against the top of his knee, he folded his arm under the barrel of his rifle and gripped his other wrist.

     Leaning into the iron sights, he let out a slow breath.

     The crack of a rifle shot to his left gave him a jolt. Glancing over, he watched as Petra operated the bolt on her rifle and fired again.

     Smothering a nervous smile, Vince lined up the iron sights again. He was no crack shot, but he’d do the best he could at this distance.

     Throughout the town, the battle was instantly changing. The soldiers had caught on slower than the villagers, but both sides were aware fire was coming from the tree line.

     Squeezing the trigger, he watched as a villager pitched over.

     Cycling the bolt, he eased the barrel to the left. A rifle crack went off to his right, followed by another from his left.

     Vince sent another bullet downrange and hunted for yet another target.

     There were some shots he didn’t feel comfortable taking due to the proximity of friendly soldiers.

     The last thing he wanted to do was to go blue on blue.

     Pulling the trigger, Vince pulled the bolt back to chamber another round.

     Gunfire continued around him, and soon Vince lost himself in the simplicity of target finding and firing.

     There was a brief period that the sound of swords clashing reached him, but he dismissed it. Fes would have called out if she needed assistance.

     What felt like hours passed, and Vince found he couldn’t identify any other targets.

     “I’ve got a clear board. Anyone got eyes on?” Vince asked.

     A crack of a rifle to his left was the only response.

     “This one has no enemies in sight now.”

     “Nothing over here. I get the impression quite a few dove into buildings. Using them for cover.”

     “None stand in opposition of us,” Fes growled.

     She wasn’t fond of the rifles. Vince was sure it went against her sensibilities. He imagined she’d rather have been charging down into the fray than what they had done.

     The dead can’t feel honor, and only the living care.

     Looking to the Orc in question, he found a small cluster of corpses at her feet. Apparently four people had been sent against them and Vince hadn’t even noticed.

     “You alright, Fes?” Vince called.

     The Orc woman bobbed her head, and waved a hand at him. She was moving to the back of the group to rest, he imagined. Putting down four by herself couldn’t have been a fun experience.

     “Petra, could you pull out the Washington banner and tie it to your spear? Would you mind being my flagbearer? Eventually they’re going to send people this way. If we don’t remain, they’ll just send people after us, and I’d rather not have to be dodging people all day. Meliae, check on Fes?” Vince requested.

     “Of course, Sweetling,” Meliae purred at him.

     “This one obeys.”

     Vince nodded his head and began cycling the bolt, the unspent ammo being ejected.

     Looking to the right, he found a pile of brass casings. Doing a quick search and count, he was able to locate one for every shot he took.

     Shouldering his rifle, he went about collecting the brass from everyone and putting them in the container they were using to hold them.

     “Patrol. Three; two grunts, an officer,” Fes called out.

     Vince didn’t react; he’d been expecting it. Soon enough, they’d get an idea on what had happened here and be able to continue on with their stupid patrol.

     Three young men dressed in Washington colors closed within ten yards.

     “Hail. Lieutenant Wallace, Washington army. F—”

     “Vince. Ranger. What was going on down there, Wallace?” interrupted Vince.

     “Oh. They were a forward operating base for Portland. They’d cleared the town, and moved an entire regiment in.”

     “Cleared the town?” Meliae asked.

     “Eliminated all the inhabitants. One of the men had family here; it’s how we found out there was a problem when we stopped in for a routine patrol. Became a real clusterfuck of street fighting from there. Honestly, I don’t think we would have survived if you hadn’t come along.”

     The lieutenant seemed ill at ease. Something was bothering him.

     Vince scratched at his cheek.

     Bold plan to take an entire village. Good plan, though. Having a village like this as an operating base would have provided critical information about troop movements coming down the main road.

     “I take it war has been declared?” Vince asked.

     “Yes. A week and a half ago. There’ve been no main engagements, but a series of raids and skirmishes. We didn’t expect to see them so deep in our own territory,” said Wallace, shaking his head.

     Vince said nothing to that but waved at the soldier instead. “With that being said, I’ll leave you to your work.”

     Turning, Vince started to turn away.

     “A moment, Ranger. There’s a standing order to tell all Rangers to report to the capital,” Wallace said quickly.

     “I’m on special dispensation by the Portland guild authority—”

     “That’s him, then,” said one of the line soldiers.

     “So it is. If you’re the one who was sent on border patrol, I’ve received special orders for you. You’re to report to the capital immediately. I’m to report having spoken with you directly about this matter immediately with the Portland guild authority,” Wallace said, as if reading from an actual order sheet.

     Vince grunted at that.

     So much for getting out of here.

     “Fine. Got it. We’ll be heading there next,” Vince said, completing his turn and walking back into the woods.

     Petra fell in beside him. Just on the inside of the tree line, he found Fes with Meliae beside her. The Orc was slumped against the base of a tree and had one hand pressed to her bloody side.

     “Damn it, Fes,” Vince cursed, moving over to her quickly and kneeling down.

     “Bad, but not life threatening. Not bleeding badly,” Fes grumbled through clenched teeth.

     Meliae looked from the Orc to Vince, but said nothing. She didn’t need to.

     “Alright. We camp here until you’re able to ride. We’ll hit the guild hub at the capital, then head for the castle.”

     “The guild hub first?” Meliae asked, her hands laying on top of Fes’s. There was a soft glow playing back and forth between their hands.

     “Yeah. There’s something wrong with the whole situation and it’s getting worse. Looks like this’ll be a lot more work than I planned on. We’ll check in with the hub, get an idea of their take on it, go from there,” Vince said. He gestured at Fes. “What do you think?”

     The Dryad pursed her lips and her eyes slowly became a solid green. A full minute passed before she responded.

     “Deep. Pretty bad, actually. Thankfully it isn’t fatal or even life threatening, and I’ve been working on it.

     “She’ll need rest. I can continue to help mend it, and keep it clean, but it’ll take some work on my part. That and close proximity. Rest on her part,” replied the Dryad.

     “Right. We’ll get to the guild hub, get a room elsewhere, bunker down to heal up, send a message to our own guild hub, and Petra and I will meet Al,” Vince murmured, giving Fes a smile when her eyes met his own.

     “We’ll get you put to rights, Fes, then we’ll get back home. I think I’ve adventured enough for a while.”

     Fes gave him a pained smile and a small nod of her head.

     Chapter 13

     Vince was pretty happy with their progress. They’d made it into the capital unchallenged. Getting into the Ranger hub wouldn’t be as easy, though. The guild had taken the old regional airport as its base of operations.

     Sitting smack dab in the middle of the airstrip was the guild hub, with a wide view of everything around it. It was a squat, ugly building made of heavy stone and arrow slits that a rifle could fire through.

     It’d been built as the frontier hub, meant to be the end cap for the guild.

     Of course, that was before Vancouver had been resettled in the north. Now it just served as a paranoid reminder of a darker period.

     Walking down the road that led straight up to the main gate, Vince took it slow. Fes wasn’t terribly mobile right now. Meliae was doing everything she could to keep the Orc warrior’s wounds together and mending.

     Her power had been far greater for him, since he was her tree. Fes was merely another humanoid.

     Both she and the Fes looked worn from the effort.

     Before they’d made it halfway down the approach, two things happened: the gates before him opened, and Petra rejoined him.

     “This one has arranged accommodations per her master’s orders. Does Master wish for the key?” Petra asked, sinking down to his own height.

     “No. Thanks, though, Petra. Give it to Meliae. They’ll need it more than we will. I’m sure we’ll end up ‘quartered’ in the capital building. Guests,” Vince muttered.

     “This one complies. Armed men and a woman come this way. Does Master believe they are friendly?”

     “I sure hope so. Here, Petra, help with Fes. I’ll go greet our hosts,” Vince said. Sliding his shoulder out from under Fes’s arm, he waited for Petra to get into position.

     Taking a glance at Fes and then Meliae before he moved off, he felt his guts squirm. She looked a sickly pale green. Her hair was lank and sweat soaked. Meliae had a wan appearance and the look of a plant left too long in the sun.

     An older woman with short gray hair and armored in leather stood waiting for him at the entry. She was flanked by two helmeted Rangers with drawn weapons.

     “Greetings from the south,” Vince called as he approached them. “I’m Vincent, from the Modesto guild hub. May I approach and present my membership card?”

     Vince kept walking and pulled out his card between two fingers. Holding it above his head in his right hand, he kept his left hand visible as well.

     They looked pretty on edge, and he didn’t really want to spook them anymore than he had to.

     “Fine,” grumped the woman.

     Getting within arm’s reach, Vince came to a stop and held out his card.

     Miss Sourpuss took it from him and inspected it. Flipping it over, she ran her thumb over the markings and symbols that only guild hub leaders seemed to understand.

     With a grunt, she handed it back to him. “Good to have you here, Vince. Took you southerners damn long enough to get here. It’s been damn near half a year.”

     That’s not right. That’s not right at all. Something is seriously wrong here. Trained pigeons don’t just… ah.

     “Ah, no? I’m on a commission from Al, the hub leader for Portland. I’ve had my charter enacted and I’ve been told to report to the capital. Where he’s staying with the king,” Vince said as smoothly as he could.

     It wouldn’t do to panic her, and honestly, he wasn’t sure how much he could say in their company right now. He glanced at the two Rangers behind her as if to make the point that they were there.

     “I see.” The iron-haired woman looked behind her and flicked her hand at the two guards. They walked off to one side out of earshot. The hub leader was looking to the side and seemed lost in contemplation.

     “I was wondering if you could answer a question, hub leader?” Vince asked, sliding his membership card back into his vest.

     “Name’s Macy. What is it?” she asked, not taking her eyes from the ground beside her.

     “In Portland, all the Rangers have been sent away on duties, missions, or long-range reconnaissance. The hub is all but deserted. Would you happen to be experiencing a similar problem, or something that has isolated you?”

     It was a stretch, but Vince felt like he had a fairly solid grasp on the situation now. Al was the reason for this pit of shit up to his neck.

     “What? I… yes. We’ve had no contact with the south for too long. Not even the normal requests for tax reports,” said Macy. Her lips turned down into a severe frown.

     “I see. I believe our situations are linked. You are of course aware that Portland and Washington are at war now?”

     “What? That can’t… no. Perhaps I’ve played right into their hands,” whispered the woman. “I ordered the fort sealed up and only resources and members are allowed in or out. A few of our numbers left and never returned, so we stopped taking on commissions. I thought we were being hunted, but… I never thought they’d go to war.”

     “I am of course not a hub leader, Macy, but I would imagine you have a spy or two in your midst. I’d also wager, given the situation, that Al has surrendered control of the Portland hub over to Washington in a back-room deal.

     “This is of course guesswork, but… it seems like the situation has been escalated. If I were in your shoes, I’d order the immediate withdrawal of all supplies, personnel, and anything of value. Tonight, even. Before troops can be brought in to surround the guild house after it’s reported that I visited you.”

     Macy looked up and met his eyes with her own. Slowly, she nodded her head as she came to a conclusion.

     “If you have anything you need, best you take care of it today,” Macy said with finality.

     “Only that you provide two of my number with a temporary room so they can rest for a time. That’s all I would ask,” Vince requested, gesturing towards the slow-moving trio coming up behind him.

     The hub leader followed his gesture with her eyes and then looked back to him.

     “Done. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” Macy said, turning on her heel. She marched back into the fort and disappeared.

     Vince turned as the trio came abreast of him. “You have room and board. Petra, give them your sword and spear for safekeeping. I imagine they’ll take our weapons anyways when we meet up. Better we don’t let them fall into the wrong hands.”

     Vince unbuckled his saber and draped the belt over Meliae’s shoulder.

     “Sorry for turning you into a pack mule. Rest and sleep as best as you’re able. Get out tonight and follow the plan. We’ll meet up with you when we can. Questions?”

     Meliae and Fes shook their heads as Petra handed over her weapons to Fes.

     “Good, be safe. Petra, are you ready?”

     “This one is prepared, Master.”

     Vince gave Fes a small smile and laid his hand on her shoulder.

     The Orc woman’s eyes focused on him for a second and she gave him a tired smile.

     After a brief second to consider if he should even bother following through with this insanity, Vince set off.

     It was several minutes later when Petra coughed into her hand. It was probably the singularly most unsubtle thing he’d ever seen or heard of.

     “Yes?” Vince asked as they walked along the street.

     “This one would ask you a question, if you would allow it, Master.”

     “Ask away, on the condition that you don’t call me Master for at least fifteen minutes,” Vince offered.

     Petra’s brows furrowed and her lips turned up in a small pout for a fraction of a second.

     “This one accepts the terms… Vince.”

     “Good. Now, questions?”

     “This one has watched you couple with the Dryad and the Orc repeatedly. This one understands your goal of impregnating them and finds that end good. Any growing colony has a queen laying eggs constantly.

     “Yet there is no queen. No other males. You act the part of the mate, though. This one has very limited knowledge on your species and culture and would ask for information.”

     Vince could see the capital building of Washington in the distance. All around him was the hustle and bustle of civilians and soldiers.

     No one would hear anything they said to each other in this madness. Just another conversation in a mob.

     “Fes is… my first wife. Meliae is my second. There are no other males and never will be. There is only me. I’m afraid this isn’t normal for human culture, either. We’re kinda making this up as we go,” Vince admitted, his eyes sweeping the crowd.

     “This one thinks she understands. How did Vince take Fes and Meliae as wives?”

     “I beat Fes in a fight and purchased Meliae.”

     “Yes. This one was also beaten and collared. This one is then your third wife. This one will strive to become your first wife. When would Vince like to couple and work towards a child?”

     “I—” Vince started.

     “Halt!” boomed a voice directly in front of him.

     Vince turned his head and found himself looking at a patrol of guards.

     Petra will have to wait a bit.

     “Vince? Of the Ranger guild?” asked one of the helmeted soldiers.

     “Yeah, that’d be me. I take it you’re here to escort us to the throne room?” Vince asked.

     A heartbeat passed before someone in the patrol responded. Vince was getting pretty tired of addressing faceless helmets.

     “Yes. Please fall in with us and we’ll escort you to the capital building immediately.”

     There was no arguing with that statement, and he honestly wasn’t sure he could take an entire patrol without getting himself mobbed.

     “Lead on,” Vince said, walking into the middle of the patrol. Immediately the soldiers closed up around him and began “escorting” him to the building at the end of the main thoroughfare.

     Their destination was a pre-Wastes government building that had gone through a number of conversions to turn it into a castle, complete with stone towers and wall.

     Beside him, Petra stood up to her full height. With a grunt, she fastened her helmet, pulling the strap tight under her chin. She shrugged her shoulders and flexed her hands.

     Petra began systematically cracking an open palm against each piece of her armor, seemingly checking the position and preparedness to receive a blow.

     Vince couldn’t help but grin at his soldier as she prepared for battle.

     Subtle, she is not.

     Vince let his eyes take in the room for a single heartbeat before focusing in on the trio of people seated at a table.

     Al was easy to pick out with that smarmy grin and punchable face.

     Next to him was an older man dressed in expensive pre-Wastes clothing. He looked like nothing out of the ordinary, and Vince felt like he’d be hard to recognize in a crowd with that mud-brown hair and those turd-colored eyes of his.

     Which was amusing, since Vince expected him to be the king.

     Across from them was a third man, dressed in leather armor and ill at ease. He was only a bit more memorable with blue eyes instead of brown.

     Judging on the color of his uniform, as that was the only thing it could be, it was clear this man was a representative of the Kingdom of Portland.

     No one rose from their seats, and all three men viewed Vince as if he were something to be scraped off a boot and tossed off the path.

     “Reporting as requested, hub leader,” Vince said, staring at a point between Al and who he was assuming was the king of Washington.

     “Of course you are. Do you even realize… no, no, you don’t. Because you’re a fool. A stupid fool,” Al seethed, his face turning a bright red as he spoke. “Running around the border without a proper route, doing nothing at all, I’m sure. Nothing other than fucking your little playthings.”

     Vince blinked, collecting his thoughts. Without meaning to, he began to reach out empathically to everyone in the room and just outside of it.

     Behind him in the hall he could feel Petra, annoyed and nervous. The two guards with her were feeling the same damn way.

     The three in the room with him were angry. Very angry. Murderously so.

     Vince had to keep himself from turning his head to the left when he felt a fourth mind against the wall.

     A shielded mind.

     I see you, Seville.

     “We were patrolling the border as you instructed. While I admit the majority of the duty was uneventful, we did come across a battle. As I’m sure you’ve already read the report, I feel it pointless to repeat the details,” Vince said slowly. “Otherwise, we’ve followed your orders to the letter while maintaining the neutrality of the Ranger guild.”

     The last sentence Vince said while turning his head to stare directly into Al’s eyes.

     Al’s spine straightened at that, taking in a slow, audible breath.

     “We appreciate your services in that regard, Ranger,” the king interrupted. “You’re right of course, and we understand your wish to remain neutral while maintaining the peace at the same time.”

     Vince turned his eyes on the king and nodded his head slightly. “Just as I slew the bandits in Portland, I slew what I believed were unlawful townsfolk in Washington. The Ranger guild is to remain neutral.”

     The ambassador nodded his head once to that, nearly at the same time the king did. Al, on the other hand, looked like he’d wound himself up to a boiling point.

     “I’ll have you flogged and flayed—” Al started.

     “Where in the charter do you have that authority? As I stated previously, I followed your orders to the best of my ability, within the stated orders I was given,” Vince said without emotion.

     Al slammed his hand down against the arm of his chair and lifted his other hand to point at Vince.

     “Quite right, Ranger,” the king boomed. Al said nothing, but Vince could clearly see his words were only restrained by his teeth.

     Vince said nothing and waited. He’d need to be dismissed by either the king or the hub leader.

     “You’ll remain here in the capital for a time. I’d like to speak with you at length about your time on the border,” Al said slowly.

     As he spoke, Vince could feel the anger and hate oozing from Al’s mind, and a slow-building sense of satisfaction and glee.

     “We’ll have a room arranged for you here in the castle.” With that, Vince, felt the finality in the man’s mind.

     He’s going to have us killed tonight. Fuck this. Being a Ranger isn’t worth dying over. If they want to kick me out for not following the rules, fine.

     “I’ll—” Vince started, but was interrupted by the doors behind him swinging open.

     Turning his head, Vince saw a squad of armed men lead Petra into the audience hall.

     “These men will show you to your quarters. We’ll speak more in the morning,” the king explained. Turning his head to Al, the king started up a different conversation.

     There was no point in resisting. Both he and Petra had been frisked and checked for weapons by the guards who had received them at the door.

     Vince felt naked without his blade, but felt better that he’d given it to someone for safekeeping.

     Even without it, though, he knew he was a match for any two men here, and Petra perhaps three.

     Being unarmed didn’t make a fight impossible, but it made it damned nearly so.

     “This way… sir,” muttered a helmeted guard.

     Vince said nothing, but took his place next to Petra in the middle of the squad. They set off as soon as the guards closed around behind him.

     Petra’s helmeted head swiveled to peer down at him. Without any response from him, Petra turned her face back to the guards ahead of them.

     Minutes ticked by as they walked onward, and upwards. They climbed quite a number of stairs until it felt like they were probably in the tallest tower in the keep.

     The hell am I, a princess in need of rescue?

     Reaching a floor that seemingly had no further stairs to take, they turned to a door on the left.

     Cold iron covered most of the door in strips, giving it the appearance of being an iron door with wood, rather than a wooden door with banded iron.

     “Invoke your slave collar and order your slave into this room and that she not leave it under any condition,” came an echoing voice from inside of the guard’s helmet.

     “Petra, by the slave collar that binds you, I order you to stay in that room and not leave under any condition,” Vince said immediately.

     Vince hoped that Petra would be quick enough on the uptake to realize this wasn’t what he wanted her to do at all, but that she needed to play along. He’d have to think of a plan so that they could escape.

     Apparently he need not have worried, because Petra immediately turned around and marched into the room.

     Closing the door behind her, the guards then dropped a bar into place that would keep the door well and truly shut. Then they led him down to the other end of the hallway. Another door greeted him; much like the last one, it had a security bar.

     “Get in.”

     Vince didn’t argue and slipped inside, taking a look around. Behind him, the door shut and he heard the bar drop into place.

     “Nice cell,” Vince muttered. All around him were rich furnishings the like he could only have imagined. The vast majority of it was pre-Wastes and beyond expensive.

     He briefly considered lighting it aflame. If they were going to kill him in the night, he could at least make it expensive for them.

     Noticing a window at the other end of the room, he walked over to it.

     It was big enough to actually crawl out of, but that was where any escape plan would end.

     There were no stones beneath the window or to either side. Directly above the window was a flat patch of stone that would prevent one from climbing up and out as well.

     “Lovely unobstructed view. Oh, and look. A nice concrete stamp below me to catch me should I jump. Ah, how considerate. It’s even located in a private area below me for quiet cleanup. I think I even see lovely red splotches down there. It appears I’m not the first resident.”

     Petra’s helmet-free head swung into his view.

     Vince blinked at her, too stunned to respond.

     She reached up and tucked her hair behind her ears and then turned her head to the side to face him.

     “This one assumed you desired her cooperation until such a time as she could escape,” Petra murmured. “She has barricaded the door in such a way that no one will be enter for many hours, then escaped.

     “This one would ask her master to move so she could enter to complete her task. While heights do not bother her, this one thinks that a soldier ant clinging to a wall looks out of place in a human settlement.”

     Vince nodded his head and quickly got out of the way. Petra filled the window as she maneuvered her legs through.

     Suddenly breaking out in a smile, he shook his head. He’d forgotten that, much like an ant, she could climb nearly any surface.

     “You’re a beauty, Petra. I honestly hadn’t even begun to think of a way for us to escape.”

     “This one thanks her master for the compliment to her appearance. Though she would like to ask you further about your preferences, she feels this is not the time.”

     “Quite right, quite right. Alright, let’s see if there’s anything small we want to steal, barricade the door, and then figure out what we do next.

     “Personally, I’m done with this place. I figure we slip out once sunset comes, get out of town. Swing over to that village, pick up Fes and Meliae, head out to the deep countryside, and lay low for a while.”

     “This one thinks her master’s plan lacks detail, but agrees that as an outline, it’s a good start.”

     Vince scoffed at that, smiling once more. “Between the three of you, I’ll never have to worry about being misled, will I?”

     Petra merely shook her head.

     Chapter 14

     Guards had come to check on them. They had discovered quickly the door was blocked. Blocked by very expensive furniture and items that they didn’t want to be responsible for. They were forced to retreat rather than earn their king’s wrath.

     Besides that, nothing happened. Vince spent the evening chitchatting with Petra.

     Up to this point, apparently her life had been one of conflict. A neighboring ant colony had provided her with a daily war that had lasted for her entire life.

     She described an endless conflict in which she had slain her enemies and watched her colony mates die. Daily.

     Ants could repopulate quickly, and losses were absorbed with little difficulty.

     Petra was a bit of an abnormality, though. She learned, adapted, survived. Most of those who’d fought with her, or against her, had been too young to know any different. Or too stupid to believe there could be a difference.

     Which was why she had left the nest when it was apparent there would be no possibility of recovery. Even if there had been other survivors, they would have probably gone straight into another battle with their neighbor, only to be wiped out.

     Vince had become so engrossed in her story that they’d talked about little else.

     When the sudden explosion of orange sunlight beat through the open window, Vince was surprised. Sunset had come quickly.

     “Dang. Time we got a leg on,” Vince said, getting to his feet. “I know we didn’t talk much about the plan, but I really can’t think of what else I’d add to it. Trying to detail it out would achieve little since we’re not sure what to expect.”

     Petra grunted and checked her helmet on her hip and her bundled armor on the other side. They’d decided that it would be better for them both if she made the descent in only her normal clothes. After a moment, she looked back to him. “This one dislikes it, but agrees.”

     “Well, with that being said… should I mount you like a horse, or do you carry me?” Vince asked. He wasn’t quite sure how Petra planned on getting him down.

     “Master will ride this one. She apologizes that this will not be comfortable, and asks that you hold on tightly to her with arms and legs.”

     “Right,” Vince said under his breath.

     Petra sidled over to him and lowered herself down. Her ant abdomen lay on the ground and her legs were arranged a little differently to accommodate him getting on.

     Reaching out, he laid his hands on her segmented abdomen and leaned forward. Lifting a leg over her, he slid into the space Petra had indicated.

     He wrapped his legs around her hips, then reached around and locked his arms around her middle just under her breasts.

     “Master, could you please move your ankles higher or lower? This one must shamefully report that you have rested them directly atop an area that would not assist in climbing,” Petra said, as she stood up slowly.

     Thinking about it, Vince realized he had quite literally pressed his ankles into her nether region. “Sorry, Petra.”

     Easing up a bit, he managed to move his ankles down further till he found the point where her skin went from human to carapace.

     “Better placement, this one thanks you.”

     Petra started to walk forward and Vince couldn’t help but feel amazed. Petra’s movement was smooth, her legs working around him as if he weren’t even there.

     Then they were outside the window and sideways.

     Vince managed to keep himself seated and held on to the athletic ant-soldier as she glided along the wall to the back of the building.

     Finding himself not enjoying the view, Vince pressed his face into Petra’s shoulder blades and took slow breaths.

     He could feel his center of gravity change as she maneuvered them along the wall. At times, he swore they were nearly upside down. As quick as could be believed, Vince felt the world right itself underneath him.

     “This one reports that she has escaped with her master. Though, she would ask her master to remain seated. She can move more swiftly than he and can get him across the rooftops and out of the city quickly.”

     Vince nodded his head against Petra’s back. “Done. Get us outside the city.”

     Petra didn’t hesitate. They were off in a flash. Vince could feel the air parting around Petra from the speed she put on. His orientation to the world changed as she jumped from building to building.

     Didn’t even know Waste ants could jump. Normal ants can’t.

     “Master, this one sees the one called Seville,” Petra said as they came to a sudden stop, breaking through his thoughts.

     “What? Where?” Vince asked, peering out from around her back.

     Lifting an arm, Petra indicated towards what looked like a man and a woman walking down the street.

     From this distance, he could certainly believe it was Seville, but it was hard to really confirm that.

     “Get us closer.”

     Petra bunched her legs and bolted. In seconds, they were around the front now and could see Seville’s face easily.

     It was indeed him, and walking beside him was an elven maiden. She wore a dainty slave collar of northern make, and they looked like they were engaged in a quiet but heated conversation.

     The Elf gestured with her hands in short chopping motions while Seville made gentle waves with his own, seemingly soothing her.

     They turned down a side street and paused, pulling items from a satchel the Elf had been carrying.

     “Masks,” Vince said softly as they pressed the items to their faces. It was the only thing it could be. “But why? Let’s follow them. Discreetly.”

     Petra took them straight up the side of a building. Forcing himself not to close his eyes, Vince found they were following them from above.

     “This one wonders why they wear a mask,” Petra whispered.

     “If I could answer that one, we wouldn’t have to pretend to be the Hardy Boys,” Vince replied.

     “Who?”

     “Never mind. Kids books my parents gave me.”

     Vince looked up towards the direction Seville was heading.

     “Seems like they’re heading to that mansion’s rear gate, doesn’t it?” Vince said, pointing down at the two below them and the gate ahead.

     Beyond the gate was a large four-story mansion that sat squarely in the middle of a large green.

     The building was massive in scale and looked like the definition of opulent.

     “This one agrees. What does Master wish?” Petra asked.

     Vince thought about it, and as he thought about it, he let his senses expand. Seville’s mind was still locked up tight, but the Elf was wide open.

     Apparently Seville didn’t think to tell her about me and my tricks. Which means what he knows about me is a secret to everyone else. So far. Who knows how long that’ll last.

     The Elf was full of lust, fear, and excitement. Which made no sense. At all.

     She was too far for him to pry into her actual thoughts, though.

     “Let’s… follow for now. If they go inside, maybe we can slip into a room on that fourth floor. Think you can manage it without being seen?”

     “This one is not used to subterfuge, but believes she can succeed, Master.”

     “Right. Let’s do it, then.”

     Vince and Petra watched their prey walk quietly to the gate.

     Upon reaching it, a guard materialized at the entrance. Vince hadn’t even noticed the dark-outfitted man.

     Something changed hands and Seville was allowed to enter with his companion. The gate was surprisingly noiseless on its opening and closing.

     Seville walked casually up to the nearest door and entered as if he knew what to expect.

     Petra slipped away from the side of the house facing the gate. Moving around to a different side, with a higher wall and a lack of guards, Petra scaled it with ease.

     Skittering forward, she carried them across the manicured grounds at a lightning speed. Straight up the side of the mansion she went and into a fourth-floor window.

     Inside the room, they found it to be lit by electricity, and was decorated in a similar fashion to the king’s “guest room” that they’d been in earlier.

     A number of masks, gowns, and men’s suits were laid out in various states of inspection across the furniture.

     Seeing no enemies, Petra carried them inside.

     Sliding off his impromptu mount, Vince moved to the door and pressed his ear to it.

     The sound of murmuring voices, laughter, and an occasional high-pitched squeal reached him.

     “Sounds like a party,” Vince said.

     “Master, this one believes we should leave. Whatever this is, it doesn’t concern us.”

     “You’re right, of course,” Vince said, pulling his ear from the door. “And in the same breath… I need to know what’s going on here. Seville knows me in some way. It may be foolish, but if this is a party, he might let his guard down. Enough that I can—well, maybe enough that I can get some answers out of him,” Vince finished in a rush. He didn’t want to admit that he could ravage a person’s mind if he truly put the effort into it.

     The one time he’d done it, though, he’d managed to stumble ten feet away and pass out under a bush only to wake up a day and a half later.

     He’d killed the bandit he’d been dealing with, and nearly himself.

     “As Master wishes. This one will defend you. How should we proceed?”

     Vince sighed and looked at the clothes all around them. “I’d say we start by dressing accordingly. The only problem is that I’m pretty sure you’re the only soldier ant in the entire state that is collared. Any ideas on how to disguise your race?”

     Petra looked down at herself for a moment. Taking up a large ball gown-type of dress, she roughly pulled it down over her clothes. That of course didn’t work, so she started to strip out of her clothes while arranging the dress.

     While she was going about her business, Vince made short work of finding a suit that’d fit him and got into it.

     Looking back to his soldier, he found her wrestling with the dress still.

     She had begun to shove the fabric around with her hands. She managed to move it around and over her bundled armor, clothes, and helmet.

     Letting go of the fabric, she had somehow managed to get the dress to settle around her in a reasonable fashion without making it obvious she had things hidden in the skirt.

     Unfortunately, her ant parts managed to stick out behind her, which Petra noticed when she looked over her shoulder.

     Shifting around in the large gown, Petra rose up in height until she was a few inches above six feet.

     Her segmented rear end slid into the dress and was no longer visible.

     “And what exactly did you do?” Vince asked.

     “This one has raised her height to a point that she could pull her rear end in,” Petra explained, gathering a vast amount of material in her hands. Then she lifted the dress up in the front.

     As she had said, her “rear end,” as it were, was now pointing downward towards the ground. Her legs were also closely pressed together, the tips of them creating a three-footed base.

     Without meaning to, Petra was also giving him an eyeful.

     Vince found himself staring into Petra’s slit. It was no longer hidden by the strap of fabric she’d taken to tying across her private parts. Probably lost in the mad pushing and pulling of the dress.

     It was interesting that she had a human female’s genitals but no legs.

     I wonder if it’s angled differently for entry? Or childbirth? Wait, do they lay eggs or give live birth? Or are eggs a queen-only thing?

     His pants started to get tight as his body reacted to the view.

     Petra sniffed as if she were getting a cold, then apparently noticed his silent stare and leaned forward to see what he was seeing.

     After a second, she finally noticed her error and dropped the dress down immediately.

     Vince only detected the faintest blush color her cheeks. Other than that, she didn’t show any outward signs of embarrassment.

     Vince had to wonder at her self-control. If he’d been the one showcasing himself to someone, he doubted his response would have been that simple.

     Is that true, though? How often do I end up having sex with Fes or Meliae right in front of her?

     Becoming an amoral hedonistic savage there, Vince.

     Petra smoothed the dress down with her hands. Vince could guess easily that she was trying to find her private parts band without looking like it.

     “Can you keep that up? Is it uncomfortable? Can you move around like that? Best to try and test it all out here before we go in there,” Vince said, diverting not only himself but what just happened.

     Petra blinked and then nodded her head. Slowly, hesitantly, she started moving around the room. Her movements were awkward and robotic.

     They’d stand out for sure.

     She surprised him, though. Within half a minute since starting, she’d made remarkable progress. What started off as a newborn deer impression quickly became a tall elegant woman.

     “Well done. What about backwards? Or bending down? Sitting?” Vince asked.

     Petra nodded her head again and then pivoted in place and moved backwards. Oddly enough, it seemed that was easier than forward for her.

     Moving over to a chair that had been placed against a wall, she lightly sat down.

     “Sitting is not easy, but this one believes this looks as if she is sitting. Yes?” Petra asked, looking down at herself.

     “It looks like you’re sitting, sure. You’re not?”

     “No. This one will not show you, either.”

     “Of course. Okay, what about kneeling or sitting on the ground?”

     “Shouldn’t be a problem. The dress is long, and without the distance to the ground, it’ll stretch considerably further. This one feels that she is ready to don a mask and will be unremarkable. She is excited to interact with humans on a human level. Though she believes that everyone here is accompanied by a slave, so she may need to play that role instead. What race should this one be if someone asks?”

     “I… that’s a good question. Good work with the dress as well, by the way. You’re pretty tall right now and you’ve got an athletic build. We could try to pass you off as an Amazon? I’ve seen a few of them. They look fairly human but have increased strength and speed. Not to mention lifespan. Straight out of the fantasy books.”

     Petra nodded her head, her hands moving through all the masks laid out on a desk nearby.

     She pulled a mask free that looked almost like a helmet. It was a single piece decorated in geometric patterns that covered from the nose to the back of the head, leaving the mouth and jaw completely free.

     Pulling it over her head, being very careful to tuck her antennae in with her hair, she adjusted the strap and then looked to him.

     “Very Petra-like choice,” Vince said. Looking back to the masks, he picked up one that covered his eyes, nose, and forehead. It also had an attached wig of dark black curly hair that would help disguise him.

     Pulling it down over his head, he looked to the tall soldier woman and smiled.

     “Last but not least, you can call me Master, but you’ll need to drop the whole ‘this one’ thing for a time. It’s… a very noticeable speech pattern.”

     Petra’s mouth turned into a frown before she nodded her head.

     “I… will obey.”

     “Grand. Shall we?” Vince said, holding out his arm.

     “Yes,” Petra said, laying her hand on his forearm.

     Opening the door, they stepped into a hallway and could already hear the distant sounds of merrymaking and the smell of food.

     “Maybe we should use the window,” Vince murmured.

     Petra shook her head and then led him down the hallway. “Th—I could not have gotten us down in these clothes. This area back here has the strongest scent and sound coming from it.”

     As they turned the corner, they found a servant’s stairwell.

     “Just how good is your sense of smell, anyways?” Vince asked, peering down the dark stairwell.

     “Very good. This one can tell that there is a significant number of people down there. All of them eager to engage in sex. It reeks of wanton desire.”

     Vince snorted at that and began walking down the stairs. “Stop saying, ‘This one,’ remember? And you’re telling me you can tell when someone is horny?”

     “All creatures put off scents when they desire sex. Even humans. It’s just harder to detect with some species. Your scent is easier for me to track, as I know it well.”

     Vince didn’t say anything to that. His thoughts were running around in an embarrassed flutter.

     He couldn’t help but wonder if she’d caught on to the fact that he’d be more than happy to take eyefuls of her when she changed or bathed.

     “This one, that is, I am always very flattered at your attention. I wasn’t sure if you could overlook my obvious non-humanoid body.”

     Vince grunted as they turned around into the next flight of stairs, ignoring the door, and heading down again.

     “Your flesh is warm and soft to the touch. It’s certainly firmer than human skin, but it’s skin. It’s… different, for sure, but at least you’re not a Centaur. Not sure I could ever go down that road,” Vince murmured, taking the steps slowly.

     “I… do not understand.”

     “Ergh. Well, you have a human woman’s genitalia.”

     “Correct. My caste can never be a queen. We reproduce too slowly.”

     “Yeah, well, a Centaur doesn’t have a woman’s anatomy. Horse.”

     They turned again down another stairwell. Lights, smells, and sounds were quite vibrant now. Vince was pretty sure they’d be entering the party at the end of these stairs.

     “I see. I can understand how that could be off-putting. Your qualifying factor is human genitalia?”

     “Not exactly, but I don’t want to feel like I’m having sex with a horse, either.”

     “You’re strange.”

     “Yeah, I know. Right, then. Let’s do this.” Vince stepped into a huge ballroom filled with men, women, and Wastelanders in masks.

     Chapter 15

     The gathering had the look of an elegant masquerade party. Conversations were ongoing everywhere as people ate and drank.

     Both food and drinks were being shuttled around the room on platters as well as at tables laid strategically throughout the room.

     Decorations were heavy but simple. Streamers, banners, and all sorts of things dangled from everything and anything.

     Hanging from the wall opposite the main entry was a banner that read, “Stockholders and Board Members Sixty-Seventh Annual Meeting.”

     “Is this a company or…?” Vince let the question hang as his eyes swept down from the banners to the floor again.

     Lining the walls were a strange and out of place collection of chairs, benches, pedestals, railings, and pillows.

     A waiter passed by and offered them glasses of champagne, which they both accepted as to not seem further out of place.

     “By the door,” Petra said after the man had left.

     Vince looked to where Petra had indicated. Understanding dawned on him.

     The bright blood-red armor of slave auction guards stood watch at the door, checking everyone for weapons.

     Every guest was handed a “gift box” as well. They were rectangular and a foot long by a half a foot wide, with only about three inches in height.

     “Right. That explains that, then.

     “I wonder where—” Vince stopped talking when he felt, more than saw, Seville and his closed mind. Trying to look in that direction as inconspicuously as he could, he found Seville and his Elf lounging in a set of chairs in the corner.

     Neither had partaken of food or drink, and both seemed like they were waiting for something. They made no effort to join the party or to mingle in any way or form.

     Whatever they were here for, it was business and only business.

     “Goodness me, where ever did you get such a specimen like her?” slurred a man at Vince. He’d somehow managed to stumble his way over when Vince wasn’t looking.

     “Ah, no idea. I simply purchased her through an acquaintance. She hasn’t deigned to tell me where the rest of her people are.”

     “And you br-uuuhhhggh-brought her here? You know the rrrrrrrules. You must have trained her hard.” The drunk emphasized the word hard. “You renting her?”

     “‘Fraid not. Been training her diligently for myself alone.”

     “Pity. Here, you don’t have a present. You can have mine, I’ll go get another,” mumbled the drunk, handing Vince his wrapped gift from the guards.

     Turning around, the man trundled off towards a table filled with glassware. Trailing along behind him was a short woman in a toucan mask. She topped out at four feet tall.

     “Short.” Petra’s comment was curt, her voice hard.

     “Very short. Probably a gnome, dwarf, or something of that nature. Thinking maybe we should get out of here. This isn’t what I was expecting, and I don’t think we’ll get anything useful out of it.”

     “Agreed. Let’s—”

     “Everyone, may I have your attention!” boomed a voice.

     “We’re leaving. Now,” Vince said, and turned around, only to find the stairwell now guarded by slave auction guards.

     In fact, looking around, he saw nothing but guards at every window and door.

     And the trap closes?

     Vince forced a smile on his face as he led Petra forwards toward the voice.

     “We’re surrounded, Master.”

     “Yeah. No way out but pushing on. Now smile. We’re supposed to be here, remember?”

     “It’s about time we get our first event underway,” called the same voice from earlier. Vince now saw a man dressed in bright red finery standing atop a table.

     “Now, you all received the rules prior to this. We’ll be selecting contestants at random and proceeding from there. Once we’ve finished the events, we’ll be proceeding to our strategy meeting.”

     A few people booed at that, which got a chuckle from the rest of the crowd.

     “Now, now. I know we’re here for fun and games, but we do have to conduct business. We’ll be holding an auction after the meeting for those who remain. We’ve been collecting these specimens since the start of the year. I promise you, they’ll be the finest you’ve seen.”

     At that, a general cheer went up around the room.

     “Contestants will be randomly selected by the judges. Contestants who participate will receive a special voucher for a free purchase at any of the local or hub markets up to one thousand standards.”

     Another round of cheers came from the audience.

     “Winners from each contest will receive a voucher for ten thousand standards at any local, hub, or guild markets. This can be used on multiple purchases or just one. Contestants may participate more than once, and win more than once.”

     A huge cheer went up at that.

     “Back to the rules!” shouted the man energetically, holding up his arms. “As this is a demonstration of training, knowledge of your slave, and your slave’s knowledge of you, all slaves who were brought with you must be here voluntarily. This will be authenticated when our handlers remove their collars to participate in the games. If they’re not here of their own free will, we’ll find that out during the removal process. You’ll be fined five thousand standards, have your slave taken, and your membership revoked for three months.”

     They can remove collars? I thought they were permanent.

     The crowd as a whole didn’t react to that. Apparently these weren’t new punishments for rule breakers.

     “Everyone who isn’t participating should please now wear their red button. You’re welcome to remain as part of the audience, of course.

     “Judges, please select the contestants for our first event.”

     Vince glanced around and noticed a good third of the audience had suddenly attached a red safety pin button to their clothes.

     “I guess we’re possible participants, then.”

     “This—I’m confident we could succeed. It would be good to have one of those vouchers. We could purchase a number of people and add them to our colony. If possible, we should participate in every event.”

     Vince checked himself mentally.

     Meliae had been bought for sixty standards, if memory served. At that rate, with the prize money, he could buy something like a hundred and fifty of her.

     Using his own money, both in the bank and buried, he could purchase three hundred Meliaes.

     That didn’t even include selling his trophy room.

     Vince suddenly felt like the worst of the worst. He’d never even considered using his wealth to simply purchase the freedom of others.

     “You’re right. Let’s hope it’s something we can compete in without giving the game away. Even the participation money would go pretty far.”

     A woman in a bright red tuxedo sauntered past and then did a double take to look at Petra.

     “You and your owner are in the first event. Head up to the front,” drawled the masked judge.

     “That was easy,” Vince said to Petra as they made their way to the front.

     Soon enough, thirty men and women and their slaves were brought up onto a stage. On that stage was one set of chairs. Vince hadn’t noticed the stage earlier, much to his consternation.

     What else had he missed?

     “Slaves, please exit the stage to the rear to be checked by our handlers. Owners have a seat. While they’re going through that mandatory check, I’ll explain the event.”

     Vince took a seat and looked around him.

     Apparently they’d selected fifteen men and fifteen women. All the women were in the chairs to the right, the men to the left.

     He couldn’t tell, but they all had the look of younger people as well.

     “Our first event is straightforward. How well does your slave know you—without seeing you?

     “That’s right, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to the exhibition round. We’re starting it early this time since it took so long last year. Hopefully you’ve all brought better contestants this year.

     “You know what that means. Men, unzip your flies and pull it out, ladies, hike up those dresses, and drop your panties.”

     Howls of laughter and cheers of encouragement came from the audience. Everyone on the stage started laughing as well as they did as instructed.

     After a single heartbeat of hesitation, Vince undid his belt, unzipped his fly, and pulled himself free of his underwear.

     His unhardened length lay against his thigh. Feeling his heart start to race, Vince felt like he wanted to run off the stage screaming.

     Money to buy people. Money to buy people. Doing this for money to buy people who would be forced to do worse than this.

     “As a reminder, no talking. This includes laughing, moaning, coughing, and all noise that you could think of. Your slaves are being instructed that they can use any means they want to distinguish who their owner is, providing that they’re only allowed to touch your privates!”

     Vince let out a slow breath as he tried to focus on anything other than the fact that a crowd full of people were going to watch at least fifteen women possibly fondle his junk.

     A thousand standards could easily get thirty people if I kept the price low. Thirty people.

     Ten thousand would be even more.

     “Okay! I’ve gotten word from our handlers all slaves have been checked out and they’ve all gotten the go-ahead. First up, contestant six!”

     Being led up to the stage was a huge, hulking lion-man. He looked as if he’d been carved from stone rather than made of flesh and bone.

     “Now remember, everyone, no noise at all. Our stage judge, the lovely lady in red here, will be keeping our time and rules enforcement.”

     The judge held up a hand and the room went silent. The lion-man’s head swung back and forth as if he were trying to clear his head.

     “Ready, set, go!” yelled the judge, dropping her hand, and with her other hand she clicked a stopwatch.

     The lion-man was led to the first woman. Vince realized that the chairs the women had were different and could be reclined so that they could thrust their hips out easier.

     For precisely what he imagined was happening now with the lion-man. The maned Wastelander had dropped down to all fours and shoved his head up between the woman’s knees.

     Vince couldn’t see it very well from his spot, but he could hear it. A deep snuffling and sniffling could be heard. Apparently he was relying on his sense of smell to determine if this person was his owner.

     In a room with this many people, though, and so many various scents, he wasn’t sure how successful he’d be.

     While a Beastman would have superior senses over a human, they weren’t quite as good as an animal’s.

     A few seconds passed as the woman shook her head a bit back and forth to whatever else the lion-man was doing.

     Apparently this wasn’t his owner, as he pulled back and moved over to the next chair to repeat the process.

     Vince watched without really paying attention, and let his gift fill his senses.

     The lion-man was easy enough to pick out. He was eager to find his master. As fast as possible.

     The contestants were a mixture of fear, excitement, and lust.

     The crowd seemed full of mirth and desire.

     And then there was Seville. With that closed mind of his, he was the easiest to pick out in this mob.

     His elven companion was just as easy to pick out, as she was right next to him.

     “There we have it, folks! Number six, you can’t take her yet. We need her for the rest of the competition. Judge, what was our time?” called the announcer.

     Looking back to the right, Vince found the lion-man had found his owner. Then apparently had nearly lifted her out of her chair upon doing so.

     “Three minutes, thirty-two seconds.”

     “Folks, I think that’s a record. This is usually one of our longer events, for you new attendees. Good job, contestant six.”

     The lion-man was led back off the stage, but anyone could tell he clearly felt proud of himself.

     They’re all here voluntarily. I wonder how that was managed.

     “Next, contestant twenty-six.”

     A blindfolded beauty of a woman walked up on the stage, her heels clacking on the wood. She was brought to the men’s side of the stage and she stood a few feet from the furthest man down.

     Vince was much further down and only two seats from where the women’s side started.

     He started to feel an odd tickling at the base of his brain and his abdomen. In that moment, he knew exactly what type of Waster she was. As quickly as he could, he tightened up his control over his own mind with his gift.

     Succubus.

     Vince had only dealt with one once, and that had been from afar. They were straight out of horror stories and matched them perfectly.

     Sex demons that only wanted to drain your life force away through sex. Not as terrifying as a Revenant or a Wraith, but certainly up there.

     Not to mention that they had an unexplained yet well-documented effect.

     They made men very horny. To the point of insanity, if they wanted. He could fight it fairly well with his gift, but he wasn’t immune.

     Vince felt the mad stirrings of primal lust pushing at his loins. His shaft hardened and stretched with need, demanding that he jump the Succubus and have his way with her.

     “Ready, set, go!” yelled the judge when it was clear the announcer wouldn’t be responding, enthralled like every other man in the audience.

     The Succubus dropped down to her knees in front of the first man and inhaled his cock in one motion. Working her head back and forth furiously, she hummed and moaned in pleasure.

     The man, on the other hand, was locked in place by her charms, both physical and metaphysical.

     The Succubus slammed her face into him after what seemed like only seconds.

     Cooing happily, the Succubus held him in place as he came into her mouth. Halfway through finishing she pulled her head back and pushed him back into his pants.

     “Not him,” said the Succubus, wiping her lips with a finger. Gliding over to the next man and latching onto his shaft with her mouth. Immediately she started to pump her head up and down.

     Vince watched as she literally worked her way down towards him. Each man never took much longer than the first, and it seemed it would be more of a matter of luck if her owner was closer to the front or the back.

     “Here he is!” she called, hopping up to her feet, her heels clacking loudly. Vince had actually started to space out while watching her.

     She’d managed to make her way through ten men before she’d found her owner.

     As quickly as it had come on everyone, the Succubus’s aura fell away.

     “Uh… what? Ah, yeah. Yeah. Time, judge?” asked the announcer, somewhat at a loss.

     “Three minutes, thirteen seconds,” said the judge.

     “There, there you have it, folks. Our curr-current leader. Good, good job, twenty-six.”

     Pressing a hand to his head, the announcer took a deep breath.

     “Sorry, folks, I should have warned everyone about that one. I forget how powerful they are until they step up. Though this one was particularly strong, and well trained. Extremely well trained to get that level of control.

     “My compliments to the trainer.”

     The owner waved a lazy hand at the narrator, the Succubus having returned to his crotch and needily slurping at him.

     “Alright, let’s uh, let’s get her off the stage and get the next contestant.”

     Vince stopped paying attention as another Beastman stepped up onto the stage. Apparently this event was well known, and many had prepared particularly for this one.

     Instead of watching, Vince stared at what was going on but didn’t see it. He let his mind float through everyone around him and tried to learn what he could.

     If he did it passively, and only encountered whatever a person was thinking, they’d never even know.

     Most everyone he encountered were investors, or stockholders, in the “Auction House,” as it was called in their minds. A few happened to be board members, but they were few and far between.

     The event continued onward. Nothing as exciting as the Succubus happened again, but by wide margins, the dominant class of slaves selected for this event were all Beastmen and Beastwomen.

     As he started to sift through another investor’s thoughts and memories, he found himself staring at Petra.

     Like every other contestant, she had a blindfold over the eye-holes of her mask. Blonde hair peeked out from the back of her mask. It was longer than he’d remembered. She’d been letting it grow out.

     Vince really looked at her now. She’d been there with him all day, of course, but he really hadn’t looked at her closely.

     The dress she’d pulled on was a warm gray, with very thin straps, and emphasized her chest without putting it on display. She definitely had more to her figure than Fes did.

     Her waist and hips weren’t as much of an hourglass as Meliae was, but she definitely had a womanly curve to her.

     Where Petra lacked a bit on her figure, she made up with it through how she carried herself and her demeanor. A predator’s grace and a hunter’s nature.

     “—go!” said the stage judge.

     Vince jumped at the suddenness of the shout. He’d been so busy eying Petra, he hadn’t noticed her introduction.

     Petra didn’t bother turning to the man in front of her. Instead, her head swiveled around to face straight towards Vince.

     Flowing down the line, she moved like a wolf tracking a target. Her head stayed focused on him with her even, steady strides carrying her on.

     The judge and announcer both looked shocked as Petra closed in on him.

     Turning her body towards him, she leaned forward over his lap, inadvertently giving him a deep view of her cleavage.

     She took in a loud deep inhalation of him from an inch away. Not touching him, merely smelling him.

     Dropping down to a kneeling position, she got in close to his member. Her nose bumped into the tip, causing her to jerk her head back.

     Then she leaned in again and pressed her face to his hilt. Taking a slow deep breath through her nose, she pulled her head back, scenting all along his length.

     In response, Vince couldn’t help it when his entire shaft grew as hard as a rock and jerked against her face.

     Petra set her hands to his hips and then leaned in again. Her lips nipped at the base and top of his balls.

     Feeling those soft pink lips on him, his member jerked again, the tip pressing against her cheek for a second.

     Vince watched in fascination, wondering what in the hell she was doing since it was clear she knew it was him.

     Petra breathed out against him, her warm breath cascading down over his body. Opening her mouth, she pressed her lips to the side of him, moving upwards as her tongue trailed along from the inside.

     Reaching the tip, she pulled back from him and let her tongue slide free. Using her tongue, she lightly lapped at the thick liquid drizzling out of him.

     A particularly large glob oozed out. Finding it with her tongue, she deftly took it from his head and drew it into her mouth.

     Turning her head to the side, she looked like she was trying to memorize the taste. Like she was savoring it.

     Then she turned back to him and wrapped her lips around the head, her tongue pressing at the tip and then encircling it.

     Slowly, deliberately, she moved her head forward. Vince watched as inch after inch passed through her lips. All the while her tongue moved slowly, slathering the underside of him as she did so.

     Reaching the extent that she could go, her nose pressed to his lower stomach, his length down her throat, she began to pull herself back.

     Her cheeks became hollow as she sucked hard on him, her lips tightening up as she pulled on him.

     Vince shivered a little. This wasn’t the hungry affair that Meliae’s affection was. That incessant need to be dominated by him and used. Or the deliberate and aggressive battle that Fes made them, to fight and dominate him, only to blow him.

     This was a blowjob meant for him and only his pleasure. That his pleasure would bring her pleasure.

     She was aiming for his psyche as much as his physical need.

     Her hands remained pressed to hips. Her breathing rate slowly picked up to match the speed of her mouth.

     Every downward push was a little faster than the last, and every time she pulled back, she moved a touch quicker.

     A minute in and she was moving at a smooth and steady pace, her tongue rolling and pressing to anything it could reach inside her mouth. Her lips reaching for his entire length every time, right up to the point that there was nothing left to take.

     That unceasing rhythm was perfect, and Vince was so close to finishing in her mouth.

     As if sensing the change in him, Petra began to pause once she’d gotten him down her throat and would purposefully swallow his length, her throat tightening up around the head as her muscles contracted.

     Almost as if she were begging him to orgasm at that moment. To simply unload down her throat.

     Unable to do anything else, and barely keeping quiet, Vince felt his body flex as he started to climax.

     Petra slid him down her throat and held him there as his girth swelled, then spasmed.

     After each spurt of his seed, Petra made a loud—deliberately so—gulping noise. As he finished with a final shot, her throat contracting with the motion of her devouring him, she lifted a hand above her head and indicated to Vince.

     “Time! Two minutes, ten seconds.”

     Petra reached up with her other hand and unfastened her blindfold. Crystal blue eyes stared up at him through the eyeholes of her mask as she swallowed again.

     She eased her head back, sucking roughly on him, causing him to shudder all over. Pushing him back down into the depths of her mouth, she swallowed once more. Her eyes watched him the entire time, boring into his own eyes. With a small smile curling the edges of her lips, she eased him out of her mouth and then stood up.

     “Ah, that’s… fantastic. I… well done. Could we get our next contestant up here?” the announced called.

     Petra was swiftly led offstage like all the other slaves, leaving Vince alone in his chair to ride his climax.

     Chapter 16

     Vince missed the next two contestants as he sat in his chair. It wasn’t that he didn’t care; he was simply still enjoying the physical and mental benefits of what Petra had given him.

     What man doesn’t enjoy that sort of attention? A liar, that’s who.

     “And that’s it, folks! We don’t really even have to check the scores to know who won. Contestant thirteen, with two minutes and ten seconds. Congratulations to her owner.

     “Ladies and gentlemen, we’ll take a short break before we begin our next event,” called the announcer.

     Stepping over to Vince, the same man smiled and shook his head. “Impressive. You’ll have to tell me how you did that later. Now, in a minute, some of our employees will escort you to collect your voucher. Personally, we recommend you leave it in our care until you leave, but most people still insist on taking it with them. As if we don’t have anything better to do than rob them.”

     “If you don’t mind me asking, why leave it with you?” Vince inquired, shifting in his seat.

     “Never gotten a voucher before, huh? Must be new. Good for you.

     “As to why, it’s because it’s unsigned. Since they’re meant to be used anywhere, they’re magically sealed, and little else. Which means whoever has it, owns it.

     “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” The darkly dressed masked man walked away swiftly, leaving Vince still in his chair.

     “She really took a toll on you. Sure she wasn’t a Succubus too?” came a male voice from behind him. “Come on, let’s get your voucher. Your slave is already there. We put her collar back on. Any previous commands you gave her will still be there.”

     Looking over his shoulder, Vince found a small group of red-uniformed guards.

     Standing up, Vince realized he was hanging free. Tucking himself back in, he zipped up his fly and re-buckled his belt.

     As he did so, Vince cast his mind about, trying to find Seville again.

     Strangely enough, it felt like the man was behind him. Watching him, even.

     The Elf was a bonfire of rage and hate, the emotions directed at everyone around her. With the briefest of touches, he looked into her mind and found she was no slave at all.

     She was here with Seville voluntarily and wanted to be here.

     Her mind started to shift as if she’d noticed his intrusion. Elves were sensitive to him probing a bit more deeply, it would seem.

     Now why would they be here, of all places, if she isn’t a slave?

     Chuckling, the guards started off as soon as it looked like Vince had himself squared away.

     Wordlessly, they walked him out of the great ballroom and into a side hallway. From there he was escorted through a few winding corridors and finally into the basement.

     Two guards with automatic pre-Wastes weapons waited for them at the bottom of the stairs, in front of a locked and barred iron door.

     Apparently they meant business, as those weapons were very rare, and very expensive.

     The guards with him turned and immediately frisked him. One took the gift he’d forgotten he was carrying, while the others began checking him inside and out for anything that could be used as a weapon.

     “Sorry, security this evening is on high alert. It isn’t every day there’s enough vouchers in one spot to bankrupt a country. Not to mention we’ve had reports that that damn terrorist group was planning to hit us tonight,” said a guard quietly to him as he rifled through Vince’s pockets.

     “Not a problem,” Vince replied, his mind speeding ahead. “Terrorist group?”

     “That ‘Free the Wastes’ thing. Enslaving monsters is wrong and should be illegal, blah blah. Same song and dance. Next they’ll be telling us we can’t keep dogs or cats.”

     “I heard,” said another guard as he lifted Vince’s pant leg to check his socks and shoes, “that even the king is involved. Apparently he’s a sympathizer. Him and that ambassador of his.”

     The man looking into Vince’s jacket scoffed at that and took a step back. “All clean.”

     Vince could feel Seville and his Elf closing in on them from behind. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw no one.

     No one was there. Nothing. Vince could feel them, though.

     Could they have figured out it’s me? That’s farfetched, but… maybe?

     Looking ahead again, Vince nodded to the guards and moved forward when they opened the door for him.

     Stepping inside, he immediately found Petra waiting in the corner. Her head turned at his entrance and latched on to him. She made no move to join him, however, and merely watched from the corner.

     His gift box was handed back over to him with a grunt.

     The guards closed the door behind him and remained there on duty.

     The room itself had several large black iron safes against a wall and little else other than a desk.

     Sitting in front of that desk was a bald, fat man in muted browns with a sweaty face. Watery blue eyes peered at him from amongst the pudgy folds of his face.

     “Welcome, welcome. I hear you’re the owner. Apparently your lass here put on a show while breaking all previous records.”

     “That she did,” Vince agreed with a plastered-on smile.

     “So, here’s your voucher, then.” The fat man slid a rectangular piece of plastic towards him across the table.

     Vince picked it up and flipped it over. The back of it was decorated with multiple authentication markings written in rune script.

     There would be no counterfeiting this.

     You’d have to have these to make them worthwhile. This single room seems more like a bank vault than…

     They’re here to rob them. They want the vouchers! They’re unsigned and might as well be cash!

     Smiling at the fat man, Vince did something he hadn’t done in a long time. Instead of passively monitoring thoughts and memories, he pierced the man’s mind with a heavy set of thoughts.

     Vince’s goal was simple. The location of the vouchers and for him to see nothing, hear nothing, and think nothing.

     Immediately, the man’s eyes glazed over. Then Vince had what he wanted. They were stored in a rectangular box just inside the left-hand drawer, meant to disguise their purpose by looking the part of a simple box that one would see filled with chocolates.

     The safes behind him were filled with fake vouchers that would explode upon getting a certain distance from the mansion.

     Fatty didn’t move or twitch from his place.

     “Petra, open the inner left desk drawer and pull out the box,” Vince said. Looking down at the box in his hands, he realized it’d probably be wide enough, but not long enough.

     As gently as he could, he fingered open the edge of the wrapping, doing his best not to destroy the shape the wrapping paper had taken on.

     Tilting the present to one side, the contents slid out of the gift wrapping.

     Cracking open the lid, he was smashed in the face with the heady aroma of chocolate. Expensive chocolate in a rather elaborate red box.

     Opening it, he took two of the chocolates out and damn near swallowed them whole. Tilting the top of the container against it, he set it up to look like the paymaster had been given a box and had started to dip into them.

     “Here, Master.” Petra handed him the box he’d asked for.

     Opening the top, he found a number of vouchers inside. All identical to the one he had in his hand.

     Dropping his own into the pile, he closed it up again. As delicately as he could, he slipped the box into the wrapping paper. The height was almost too much for it, the width just right, and the length all wrong.

     Setting it down on the table, Vince heard a subdued thump, grunts, and the crackle of electricity outside the door.

     Time was running out.

     Easing the box to the other side of the decorative paper, Vince managed to line up the edges and reseal it. So long as he held it right there, and never touched the other side of it, it’d look exactly as it should.

     “Quick, in the corner,” Vince said, gesturing behind himself.

     Petra glided over there and looked to him for further instructions.

     Vince pressed his back up into her and then held up his hands in front of him, the present quite visible in his left hand.

     Petra’s arms slowly closed around him and her chin pressed into the back of his head.

     “Do nothing, say nothing,” Vince murmured. Reaching out with his mind, he mentally flicked the switch on the paymaster to awaken.

     The fat man jolted in his chair. Looking to Vince and Petra, and then to the commotion going on outside the door.

     Shouting something unintelligible, the man clapped his hands together around what had looked like a pen holder on his desk. A deep, brassy alarm started to buzz all throughout the building.

     Then the door exploded inward with screeching hinges and stinging smoke. Screaming across the room, it smashed into the paymaster and crushed his head against the wall. With a wet crunch, his skull popped and he collapsed on the floor as the door clattered and clanged in a different direction.

     Seville and his Elf strode into the room. Both turned to regard Vince, assessed him, and then dismissed him.

     Seville leapt over the desk and grabbed a hold of the twitching corpse. “Damn. Bust the safe doors open. As little damage as possible.”

     The Elf said nothing, but strode over to Seville and laid a hand on the closest safe. A single tick later and the door popped open with a muffled thump.

     Seville traded places with her and started scooping out false vouchers by the handful while the Elf did the same thing to the second and third safes.

     As soon as the Elf was done with the safes, she ripped half the tunic off the corpse, dunked it into the dead man’s missing head, and began to scrawl on the wall.

     “No time for that. Let’s go,” commanded Seville, bolting out of the room, a few vouchers fluttering behind him.

     The Elf took a few moments more to finish what she was doing and then followed after him.

     “Master?”

     “Do nothing, we’re guests. Guards will be here shortly. We simply explain exactly what we saw, minus what we did with the box.”

     “This one understands,” Petra murmured, her hands pressing into his chest.

     A minute crawled by before armed guards in bright red armor stormed through the broken door frame. Two marched right up to Vince and Petra and secured them while the rest scoured the room.

     “A man and a woman did this. I think the woman was a Waster. They-they killed everyone, took something out of the desk, blew up the safes, then left.

     “The woman wrote something on the wall,” Vince explained, pointing with his right hand at the bloody whatever it was on the wall.

     A guard with more decorations on his shoulder nodded at that and then stomped over to the desk. Opening the drawer that Vince knew would be empty, the man then checked the safes.

     “You said they took what was in the safes?”

     “Yeah. And a box,” Vince affirmed.

     Grunting, the officer turned and looked at the other guards.

     “They… they mentioned something about the king. I don’t think they noticed we were here. There was a lot of smoke from the magic they used to explode the door,” Vince said in a voice that he tried to inject some fear into.

     The guards in front of them looked to their officer. “Double time, down the boulevard. We can cut them off at the gate. You two,” said the officer, looking at Vince and Petra. “Stay here for further questioning.”

     Then they took off at a dead sprint.

     Apparently that had been the right thing to say. Reacquiring what had been lost took precedence in the man’s head over securing any possible witnesses.

     “Out we go. Let’s not wait here any longer,” Vince said with conviction, dropping his hands to his sides.

     “This one knows of an exit. There are hidden corridors the handlers use,” Petra said.

     “Lead on, then. I’m afraid I’m the damsel in distress at this point, so I’ll rely on my white knight,” Vince quipped, stepping to the side for Petra to get by.

     Petra set off, exiting the room and moving into the hall.

     Splattered on the walls and ground were limbs, blood, and gore. There had been no fight here. It had been a slaughter.

     Petra lifted the hem of her dress to step through the mess, which seemed odd to Vince, and guided him to the back of the stairwell.

     Lifting both hands, she positioned them awkwardly on two different bricks that were a fair distance apart.

     “What are you—”

     “Shh. Listening, smelling.”

     Vince nodded and fell silent, watching.

     Petra slid her hands across the bricks, her fingers pressing into the edges. Finding what she was seemingly looking for, she shoved her hands forward.

     The two bricks she had pushed on sunk into the wall a fraction. The wall to their left swung away from them.

     “My hero. Does this lead out?”

     “This one believes so; she can smell and feel an outside current. Follow, Master.”

     Petra disappeared into the dark tunnel and Vince followed behind her, closing the wall behind himself.

     Grateful for his night vision once again, Vince followed Petra easily as she led them down a maze of tunnels and forks.

     She’d stop at times and scent the air, or touch the walls. Each time she did this, she came away more confident.

     Vince could only assume they were making progress. To him, it felt like they were running endlessly and aimlessly.

     Almost as if to clarify that thought, ahead of them Vince could see a man fumbling with something at his waist. He was standing in front of a wall and was attempting to push what looked like a small rod into a crack in the bricks.

     Before Vince could see anything beyond that, Petra snapped the robed man up in both hands and leaned her head back. She also suddenly grew quite a bit taller as she clearly extended her legs.

     Her jaw unhinged itself, and her mouth opened wide. Out snapped a pair of scythe-like mandibles. The last time he’d seen them, Petra had buried them in Fes.

     In nearly the same second that they slid out, Petra closed them tightly around the man’s throat.

     A heartbeat later and her stinger was swinging forward from under her dress. It slammed into the man, piercing him easily.

     Struggling in vain, the man squirmed and gibbered as Petra held him off the ground.

     A minute ticked by as the man slowly stopped fighting. His hands no longer pushed at Petra’s head, his feet no longer kicking the air futilely.

     He hung there. Twitching.

     Petra dropped the man to the ground and then stabbed him with her stinger again, this time in the chest. Right where his heart should be.

     Turning her head to face him, he was struck by the sheer monstrous quality of her appearance. Her mouth was open, the bones clearly dislocated in her jaw to allow for those pincers to slide out.

     From where, he had no idea. They looked like they’d simply retract back into her jaw itself. As if they simply retracted into the bone somewhere.

     They’d flipped out in under a second, and the retraction had taken as little time as well previously.

     She watched him, her eyes studying him. Drool pooled in her mouth and dripped from her lower lip.

     It took Vince a second, but he finally realized she was waiting for him to react to her visage.

     Truth be told, her previous comments had made him think about her situation earlier. She was the least human of his companions. The least human by far. This would be her most inhuman look.

     Her most vulnerable.

     It wasn’t in his nature to flirt. Not really. But in this moment, she needed more than he could normally give.

     Stepping in close to the extremely tall ant soldier, he reached up and grabbed the top of her dress and pulled her down to his height.

     Planting a kiss on her cheek, he then patted it.

     “Put your fangs away, Petra. You already showed me what you can do with your mouth earlier. We can experiment later, now’s not that time.”

     Not waiting for an answer, Vince leaned down and started to rifle through the man’s belongings and pockets.

     Pulling free the metal rod the man had been fooling around with, Vince heard a solid pop behind him.

     Glancing over his shoulder, he saw only Petra. She had a hand on her jaw as she watched him.

     “Experiment?”

     “Well, if your jaw opens that wide… an interesting thought, no?” Vince gave her a feral grin and turned back to the corpse.

     “Ugh, I hate it when they do that,” Vince grumbled as the corpse shat itself. Frowning, Vince found something cold and heavy in one of the pockets.

     Pulling it free, it looked more like a metal stamp than anything.

     “Collar,” Petra hissed.

     Looking back at her, he found her staring at the metal stamp in his hand.

     “This thing?” Vince asked.

     “Collar,” Petra said through clenched teeth.

     Shrugging, Vince stood up and then pressed the stamp to the front of her collar. It sizzled for a second and then nothing.

     “This one thanks her master. The collar has no power now and she is free to discuss what she now knows.”

     “Handy. Seems we’re not the only ones who can break a collar. Makes sense when you stop and think on it,” Vince said. Pocketing the stamp, he turned back to the wall.

     His eyesight was considerably better than this man’s, as he could clearly see where this rod with teeth went.

     Sliding it into the dark hole next to a point where three bricks joined, he smiled. Reaching the end of the keyhole, he rotated the rod around.

     With a click, the wall parted and moonlight could be seen through the crack.

     “Looks like we found our way out, then. Petra, I think it might be time to ditch the dress. If you’re up for it, I think the best course of action is me riding you out of here.”

     Vince reached up and pulled off the mask he was wearing and dropped it.

     “This one agrees, though regrets the loss of the dress. She felt more human in it. No one stared at her.”

     “They stared at you for other reasons while you were wearing the dress. With or without the dress, you’re still Petra.”

     “Yes, Master.” Petra reached down and shucked the dress over her head, and then dropped it lightly atop the corpse. Pulling the mask free, she dropped that as well. Her eyes stayed on the fabric before looking back to him.

     A quick moment of rifling through her armor bag and she was wearing her normal clothes again.

     “This one is ready.”

     Vince nodded and then slid up onto her as he had done previously.

     Cautiously, Petra opened the door and peeked out. Then they were off into the night.

     Chapter 17

     Clambering over the wall, they made it into an adjacent alleyway without a problem.

     “I should have known,” came a soft voice.

     Vince snapped his head around towards the voice, his senses scrambling to who was there.

     Seville.

     “Seville. Funny to see you here,” Vince said casually, his eyes locking on to the man.

     He was leaning up against a wall, his arms folded in front of him.

     Searching out the Elf, Vince found her on top of the roof above him.

     “Ask her to come down or we might go up to get her,” Vince said, before there could be any misunderstandings.

     Seville quirked a brow at that.

     Petra lifted her left set of legs and placed them on the wall. She wasn’t one for subtlety.

     “Fine. Come on down,” Seville called upwards. “Don’t try anything. Just… come down.”

     A rush of air was all Vince heard before the Elf dropped near silently next to Seville.

     Petra set her legs back down and then shifted from the left to the right. She was obviously considering things.

     “Well, Seville? You wouldn’t be chatting unless you wanted to ask something.”

     The Elf flared in an angry mental hue at his tone and words.

     “Calm. If he wanted to kill us, he could.”

     Vince said nothing to that; instead, he took the time to slowly encase the Elf’s mind in a vice.

     She was the danger. Her magic would be swift and sure.

     “My head feels funny,” murmured the Elf, her hands coming up to her head.

     “Seville?” Vince asked again, slowly increasing the pressure he had on the Elf.

     The man who seemingly knew Vince and his secret said nothing. When his companion fell to a knee, both hands planted firmly to the ground to keep herself up, he held up his hands in front of him.

     Vince’s vision wavered for a moment as he continued to push in on her mind.

     “Nothing. Merely curious as to who might come out. We were expecting someone else.”

     “Dead. Killed him to make our escape,” Vince said, flipping the rod that was a key out to Seville.

     “I see,” Seville said, rotating the rod in his hands.

     “Anything else?” Vince asked.

     “No.”

     “Before I go, you know me. Know me and my parents. Yes?”

     There was a brief flash of unadulterated hatred bleeding out from inside Seville’s mind at the mention of his parents. Like a pan heated up to the point that it’d instantly sear meat on first contact.

     Murderous, boiling hatred.

     As quick as it had come, it vanished.

     Then Seville smiled slowly at him and then shook his head.

     “You can tell I’m guarding my thoughts, can’t you? No matter. Yes. I did. I haven’t seen them since they vanished. They visited often considering… considering that you were being corrupted by the Wastes. The Elves in the north have always been more willing to work with humans. You were brought there many times by your parents to consult with them.”

     Vince grunted. It was something he didn’t know or couldn’t remember. Releasing the Elf, he felt his mind clear.

     Either way, if true, it was information. Information always had a price.

     He would be in no man’s debt. Especially this man.

     “The vouchers you stole are fraudulent. The ones you have will explode after a certain distance. I’d recommend tossing them back over the wall.

     “Knowledge for knowledge. Goodbye,” Vince stated firmly.

     Petra needed no instruction and took them straight up the wall they stood beside. In seconds, they were atop the roof and moving swiftly towards the south end of the city.

     Gliding from rooftop to rooftop, Vince could hear a disturbance running throughout the city. From the brief snatches of conversation he picked up as they moved along, it seemed like the army had been deployed.

     Looking back towards the castle, he could see the men and women of the military charging down a street. Squads broke off at intervals and entered houses with their weapons unsheathed.

     Turning back to face forward, Vince rested his forehead on Petra’s shoulder blades.

     “This one senses fear. Fear everywhere. Something is happening,” Petra said as she skittered along a rooftop.

     “Yeah, I saw soldiers being deployed behind us and I could hear some of the conversation from below us. The army has been mobilized. No idea why.”

     “Master can see them? And hear them?”

     “Yeah. I can. I think we’ll need to have a long talk with everyone after this. Me keeping secrets won’t be helpful.”

     Petra made a noncommittal noise as she leapt from the building they were on to one adjacent.

     “…freeing any slave they find. The king’s ruled that slavery is illegal! Apparently they can neutralize orders on collars and are going from house to house.”

     “What? Quick, get—”

     Vince felt the pieces click together in his head with that snippet of conversation.

     Seville had been meant to rob the vault, so to speak. The king would then sweep through and confiscate all slaves.

     It’d ruin the guild.

     In one greedy swoop, Vince had hindered the plans of a group to free slaves everywhere. The Auction House would inevitably recover from this since the vouchers weren’t in the hands of the king.

     That would have been an awful amount of leverage he could have leveraged over the Auction House guild.

     Seville seemed as if he was a ringleader of this operation. One who knew his parents and had deliberately said nothing to him.

     Working with people who wanted to kill him.

     Vince was torn, as he could easily support the cause, but not the people.

     Deciding that he’d find no answer in this train of thought this night, he instead tightened his grip on Petra. That and he tried to desperately not look down or think about the height they were traveling at.

     Dusk was closing in on the next day as the two wearily stumbled into the village Fes and Meliae were staying in.

     Without horses, the journey had been exhausting. Petra had carried him an admirable distance, but even her stamina and strength flagged after a time.

     She was no horse to be ridden unendingly.

     Dragging his feet, Vince pathetically shambled up to the man behind the counter.

     Vince barely recognized him as a man and didn’t bother to catalog his features. “Man” would do well enough in his own head.

     “Sir, what can I do for you this evening?”

     “I believe you have accommodations set for the week under the name Vincent. Two of my companions should already be here,” Vince mumbled.

     Petra came to a stop beside him, wavering a little to and fro as she tried to find her balance.

     They’d truly been on the run and had only stopped for a brief meal from a bush or tree and restroom breaks.

     “Ah, yes. I’m afraid they couldn’t remain and departed. They left a note for you should you come here.” The man disappeared behind the counter then came back up, holding out a letter for him and a key.

     Vince took the key and letter, blinking at them.

     “Last door on the left on the second floor. Enjoy your stay.”

     Nodding his head, Vince set off for the indicated room, his steps heavy and plodding.

     Unlocking, opening, then closing the door after Petra entered took what little energy he had.

     He dropped the key and the voucher box onto the dresser top without a care for the noise it’d inevitably create. Then he slumped into the bed like an empty sack.

     Holding the letter up above his head, he cracked open the wax seal and thumbed out the paper inside.

     Focusing on the words, he began to read it.

     Dear Sweetling,

     People were paying too much attention to us. Perhaps because we were slaves, or simply because we were female.

     In either case, we’ve moved on. It wasn’t worth the risk depending on how long they’d keep you hostage.

     Macy was quite kind and gave us more supplies than we could have ever needed, as well as some coin.

     She also left a letter for you. I’ve put it in the dresser drawer. The key for it is stashed in your saddlebag with some prepared trail food.

     Vince glanced to the right and found the indicated dresser did indeed have a drawer.

     A few feet away, Petra was stripping off her clothes. Her armor was still tied together and neatly piled on the ground next to the door.

     Before he could protest, or even speak, Petra was nude. Then she crumpled into the bed next to him, and promptly began snoring.

     Smiling to himself, he returned to the letter.

     We should now be on the trip back home. We’ll be moving slowly and carefully off the beaten trail.

     I know you have powers you have yet to disclose with us. Powers that may make it easier for you to find us. We’ll stay to the eastern side of the road as we move, unless we have no choice.

     We’ll keep an eye out for you; be sure to do the same.

     Do not fear or worry for us. With the power you’ve granted me, my beloved tree, I can guarantee we’ll not come across anyone.

     It is also why I’m able to travel so far from you. The amount of power you put into me is immense, and I should be more than able to survive for at least a month or two.

     Beyond that, I admit I’m fearful of the consequences.

     I stabled your horse at the corral a few streets away and made sure the saddlebags, which are in the armoire, are ready to go.

     We left your weapons, two rifles, and a can of ammo as well.

     If you end up having your way with Petra, please be sure to use protection. Or do it much closer to home so I can make sure to slow down the pregnancy. So long as it’s within the first month, it shouldn’t be an issue.

     Fes is yet to become pregnant, after all.

     In closing, Fes is healing well. I’ve sped it along as much as I possibly can, and we should reach home at a reasonable time. Perhaps only an additional week or two due to our caution.

     Love you, Sweetling.

      

     Yours alone,

     Meliae

      

     P.S. Fes is getting grumpier by the day without you. Be sure to give her lots of attention when you catch up with us, or meet us back at home.

     Setting the letter down on the bedside dresser, Vince closed his eyes and immediately dropped off into sleep.

     Muted shouting interrupted Vince’s sleep. Opening his eyes, he blearily stared up at the ceiling above him.

     Someone was having a pretty loud argument.

     Beside him, Petra snorted in her sleep.

     Everything was as it should be, other than the racket downstairs.

     Focusing his hearing on it, he only had to listen for a second to realize what it was.

     Soldiers were here. Searching for them in particular. The innkeeper had tried to play dumb, but apparently someone had ratted them out.

     It was only a matter of time till they started checking each room.

     Reaching over, he gripped Petra’s shoulder and gave it a light shake.

     The soldier-ant’s eyes snapped open and her head whipped around to him.

     Holding a finger in front of his mouth, he made a finger walking motion with his hand, and then pointed to the window.

     Petra nodded and shimmied out of the bed, her breasts swaying as she maneuvered her ant body off the mattress.

     Ripping his eyes from her unhidden and well-displayed features, Vince got out of the bed.

     Snatching up the letter and the voucher box from the bedside dresser, he moved to the armoire. Pulling his saddlebag out, he shoved the letter and the box full of vouchers into the main flap. Then he fumbled around inside where he kept his food for the key Meliae mentioned.

     Finding it quickly, he spun on his heel and went to the dresser. He popped it open quietly and snatched the letter.

     Tossing both the room key and the dresser key on the bed, he went back to the armoire.

     Petra grabbed him as he went by and pulled him in close.

     “Help this one with her clothes and armor, Master,” whispered the soldier.

     Vince nodded his head at the request.

     Petra picked up her bra and pulled it on, turning her back to him as she reached for her undershirt and padding.

     Vince frowned as his fingers pulled the clasp shut. Pulling at the fabric, he adjusted it until it settled flatly across her back.

     Her shirt and padding went next, and he had only a second to smooth it out before her chestplate and hip guards were being hauled on.

     Vince immediately went to work on the buckles while she worked on something else. He couldn’t quite see what she was doing with her back to him.

     “This one can take it from here, Master. Please continue to prepare.”

     Vince shut the clasp he was working on and then moved back to the armoire. Picking up their weapons, the saddlebag, and slinging the rifles over his shoulder, he felt beyond encumbered.

     Moving back to Petra, he hesitated for a moment and then put the saddlebag over Petra’s abdomen. Giving it a quick cinch, and fitting it as best to her as he could, he then slid in her sword and spear into the appropriate racks.

     He’d loaded her up like a pack horse.

     The soldier-ant glanced at him, down at the bags, and then went back to her armor.

     Pulling his sword and sheath into its place around his waist, Vince felt better immediately.

     He pressed his hands to the side of the armoire and slowly began pushing it in front of the door.

     Once he got it into place, with little to no noise at all, thankfully, he pulled the dresser over and pressed it against the armoire.

     Then he slung both rifles over his shoulder and picked up the ammo can.

     Looking to Petra, he found her cinching up a buckle under her chin for her helmet.

     “This one is ready, Master.”

     “Out the window. Can you manage it with me riding you and all this weight?”

     “This one will not fail her master. Though once she has reached the ground, her master will need to dismount.”

     “Agreed. After that, let’s get my horse and go. I say southeast. The further we go into the Wastes, the better our chances are. Most will avoid it as much as they can.

     “Once we get out of Washington, we can head back inward towards the main road. With any luck, we can link up with Meliae and Fes.

     “They left a letter; you can read it when we get out of here.”

     “This one cannot read. She would ask her master to read it to her.”

     Vince blinked at that and then shook his head.

     “Certainly. You need to learn to read later, though. I’ll teach you myself.”

     “If Master wishes.”

     “I do,” Vince said with a nod. Moving to the window, he unlatched the lock and pushed it open. With a deep breath, he then stepped out of the room and onto the roofing tiles.

     Petra was beside him in an instant.

     Looking out into the dark night, he realized it was still several hours before dawn.

     Shaking his head, he mounted up on Petra, hooking his legs around her midsection. Reaching around her, he gripped onto her with his arms as well.

     “This one would ask for a saddle. She enjoys being her master’s mount, but this could be more comfortable, she believes.”

     Not being able to respond to her request, Vince could only hang on as Petra moved to the side of the building. In seconds, she’d shimmied them down the side of the building and into the street.

     Rather than slowing down to let him get off, Petra sped up, dashing across the street and straight up a wall.

     It wasn’t until they slipped into the stables that she let him off.

     Petra was gasping for air, her hands pressing to her sides as he dropped off her side.

     “Soldiers… standing outside inn. Sorry, Master. Time… is short,” gasped out Petra.

     Vince tilted his head to the side and heard the stomping of boots in the distance.

     Rushing down the line of stalls, he checked each as he made his way down the line.

     Finally, he found his own and booted open the door.

     His horse practically jumped at his sudden presence.

     Not waiting, he reached out to the hook on the side of the wall and pulled free his saddle. Dropping it down on his horse, he went through the act of saddling his horse as quickly as possible.

     Sliding one rifle into the holster for the saddle, he grabbed the reins and led it back out to Petra.

     She was still huffing and puffing but sounded like she was recovering.

     Pulling the saddlebags free from her, he put the second rifle into place in the receiver slot they’d made for it on her abdomen.

     After he set the saddlebags in their rightful place, he vaulted into his seat. Then, pressing his heels to the sides of his horse, he careened wildly off for the gate.

     Unsheathing his saber, he wheeled the horse around as they passed by and swung at the metal latch holding it shut.

     With a crack, his blade broke the thin metal and the gate swung open.

     That’ll be a notch in the blade.

     Petra gave the gate a shove and exited the corral. Vince was right behind her as they turned back onto the main street and headed east.

     Eventually, the only thing Vince heard was the sound of his horse’s hooves pounding the grass as they exited the city.

     Looking rearward, he could see a multitude of lights. Torches, buildings being searched, people being roused.

     They’d gotten out just in time. He wouldn’t squander this reprieve, though.

     Speed was the name of the game until they got the hell out of Washington.

     Looking towards the path they were traveling, Vince leaned forward over his horse’s head and hung on.

     Chapter 18

     Vince entered their camp as quietly as he’d left it. Petra sat, as she was able to, at least, on a nearby tree trunk. She was quietly inspecting her weapons and gear for any damage.

     He eyed her for a second as he made his way over.

     Not looking up at him, she continued to work field stripping her Springfield. “This one would like to know what her master has seen.”

     “How do you always know, exactly?” Vince asked, taking a seat across from her in the grass. He pushed his back up to a log and let himself relax.

     Running scout duties never did any good for his nerves.

     Between them was the stacked wood for their next evening’s fire, if they could afford to light one. To one side, and within reach if they had to flee, were their packs, saddle, and saddlebag.

     Their lone horse was staked a bit to their east so it could graze, and act as a sentry as well.

     They’d taken refuge in a forest on the east side of Washington. Vince always felt more at home with trees surrounding him, so it hadn’t been a question if they’d venture into it or not. It didn’t hurt that the further east you went, the fewer people you’d encounter.

     Directly to the south of their location was the Columbia River and the front line. Washington had failed their initial push into the south and had been sent tumbling back north. Now trenches were being dug along both sides of the river. Machine guns from the pre-Wastes era were being brought in and set up to cover the river.

     For all intents and purposes, the two countries were locked in a struggle that would only end in a bloodbath, and a crushing defeat for one side or the other.

     That or never-ending war.

     Which left them on the wrong side of the river and wondering if Fes and Meliae had been able to make it across themselves before this situation developed.

     Knowing them, they’re fine. Meliae probably went further east until they could find a gap to slip through.

     “This one can sense Master through her antennae. It is harder with more humans around, but not impossible.” Petra’s fingers pushed the bolt through its action, testing it while she had it pulled apart.

     “Ah, is that how you found me in the party?” Vince asked, shifting his weight around.

     Petra’s face screwed up in a scowl, before turning into a smirk. Heat colored her cheeks as she clearly relived some of that night in her head.

     “Not quite. This one couldn’t sense Master as well with her antennae trapped in her mask. She was worried at first that it wouldn’t be easy to find Master.”

     Sliding the trigger assembly back into the stock, she hesitated, clearly ill at ease.

     “This one must admit she couldn’t find Master until she felt… him… wanting… her. The strength of Master’s desire was palpable. It was like being struck with it.

     “That’s why this one regrets losing the dress. She is sure that it was partly that she looked human in it that you were so interested in her. She has not felt the same level of desire from her master since, though she wishes it.”

     Vince sighed and brought a hand up and rubbed his jaw. “I’m not really sure how to answer that, Petra. I can tell you that I honestly haven’t exactly been feeling… randy. We’re kind of on the lam, and my mind has been more attuned to getting us home.”

     Petra nodded her head an inch, her fingers frozen on the stock.

     Grunting, Vince knew that wasn’t what she wanted to hear. “Petra, you’re very attractive. Even if you’re not completely human. The dress didn’t change anything for me because I’m well aware of who and what you are. Everything you felt from me was directed at you for being you.

     “If the situation were different and this were more of a scenic trip… well, yeah. I think you’re as pretty and sexy as Meliae or Fes. Don’t doubt yourself, just… be you. You be you.”

     Petra pulled her chin in further, her head tilting downward. Her bangs slid down to cover her face from his view.

     “As to what I saw, we could do the river crossing, but it’ll have to be at night. It’s dusk now, but in an hour or so it should be dark enough, I imagine,” Vince said, pushing the hair out of his eyes. He’d been meaning to get it cut, but things kept happening that prevented that.

     “They’ve got it all crosshatched with spotlights and machine guns. The area I was looking at is a little deeper, and we should probably be able to cross if we can keep ourselves submerged most of the time.”

     Petra didn’t say anything to that but bobbed her head. He got the impression she was watching him from the corner of her eyes.

     “The alternative is skirting way out to the east, but I’m not confident it’d be any better over there. Might actually be worse. People seemed rather lazy at the river. No one has attempted to make the crossing as of yet, so… that helps.”

     Vince gave his head a shake, trying to get his hair to settle better.

     “This one would like to cut her master’s hair,” Petra whispered.

     Thinking about it for a moment, Vince shrugged. At this point, anything would be better than this. “I’ll take you up on that, actually. It’s just damn unmanageable right now. Do you want to do it now, or…?”

     “This one would prefer to take care of it now. If Master can’t see in the water, it will be a problem.”

     Vince couldn’t fault the logic. He got up, walked over to her position, and sat down in front of her. “Want my knife or do you have yours?”

     “This one has her knife.”

     Petra immediately combed her fingers through his hair, drawing it backwards. “This one would know her master’s preference.”

     “Uhm, I don’t know. Short? Whatever you think will look good. I can’t exactly see my own hair without a mirror, and we don’t have one of those.”

     Petra’s fingers were warm as they brushed through his hair. Her nails were short with only the smallest bit of length to them.

     She folded his hair one way, and then another. “This one regrets to tell her master that his hair is tangled. Does master have a comb?”

     “In my saddlebags. I can get it—”

     “No, remain seated. This one can reach from here. She will also be wetting your hair to get it untangled.”

     Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of Petra’s legs reach out to hook the saddlebag and bring it over.

     “Alright.” Vince wasn’t quite sure what to say. Fes and Meliae shared his bed often, and there was genuine affection with both of them. Nothing like this, though.

     This felt more like budding romance from one of those terrible novels his mother used to read. He didn’t doubt Meliae would offer to do something like this and would spoil him, if given the chance.

     Problem was, they really hadn’t been given a chance for anything like this. Their time had been spent working or getting to the next place to work. There was little to no downtime.

     Ever.

     “Forgive this one, Master, the water will be cold,” Petra murmured from beside his ear. She’d leaned in close to him while his mind wandered off. Her warm breath tickled his ear and made his skin prickle.

     A trickle of water splashed into his hair. Before it could run down his back, her hands were there, rubbing the water into his scalp. Twice more Petra ran water into his hair and helped it to soak in with her hands.

     Her left hand pressed into his brow with a light touch as the comb began to work through his hair.

     Closing his eyes, Vince focused on Petra and what she was doing.

     With gentle yet insistent work, she untangled his hair. Her careful fingers worked the knots out tenderly one by one. Then she’d work the comb through the area she’d cleared.

     Petra worked until it felt like she’d conducted an intense survey of his head, mapping out every bump, tangle, scar, and pulling out every bit of vegetation he’d inadvertently picked up.

     Vince felt Petra shift as she reached around behind him and laid the comb down. She gathered up his hair in one hand and pulled it away from his head.

     The swish and hiss of a blade cutting through hair was the only indication that she’d begun the task she’d set out to do.

     Vince remained still as Petra worked, her fingers sliding through his hair, followed by a pause as she gathered it up in one hand. Then the soft sibilant sound of hair being cut.

     At length, Petra seemed satisfied with her work. She hadn’t run the knife through his hair for at least a minute. Now she was merely brushing her fingertips through it as if to see how it would lay on his head.

     “This one would ask her master to please open his eyes,” Petra said softly.

     Vince opened his eyes and blinked twice. He’d honestly gotten lost in the tender touches and warmth Petra has bestowed on him.

     There was a kernel of disappointment in him that it was over.

     Her bright blue eyes stared down at him when he turned his face up to hers.

     A flash of a smile burst across her face and fled as quickly as it had come.

     Leaning in close to him, she gently pressed a hand to his jaw and tilted it to one side.

     He could see her eyes as they roamed over his face, inspecting him for what, he had no clue.

     Slowly, she tilted his head the other way and proceeded to do the same thing again.

     Holding his chin steady, she came a touch closer and brought the knife up to the side of his face.

     A soft prickling in his sideburns was all he felt, and a single swish of the blade. Pulling back, she turned his head again and the same act was repeated to the other side.

     Her thumb and forefinger of one hand carefully peeled his ear down. The knife tip grazed along the skin behind his ear. A few brushes of the edge to his flesh and it withdrew.

     Moving his head back the other way, she did the same thing to the other side.

     Petra eased back from him and seemed to admire her work. The hand on his jaw guided his head into different positions but with only the barest whisper of direction.

     Petra’s eyes slowly focused on his own.

     He gave her a small smile and quirked a brow at her.

     Wetting her lips with her tongue, she then parted them.

     To the west and south of them was a blast the likes of which Vince had never heard before. A fireball lit up the night sky in every direction, shattering the peace of the night.

     The noise from it felt more akin to a lightning bolt from directly overhead than anything.

     As if to settle the matter on what it could be, the pop and crackle of gunfire made its way to him.

     “They’re attacking. Or pushing. Something. Everyone will be distracted. We should do this. Now, even. Whatever they’re doing, it’s big,” Vince said, standing up. Turning around, he pocketed the comb Petra had set on a rock.

     Listening intently, Vince was trying to discern anything he could about the weapons behind used.

     Behind him, he heard Petra getting up to her feet. She took a deep breath and then blurted everything out in a rush. “Master, this one must confess she cannot swim.”

     Vince pressed his lips together to keep himself from saying anything in response to that.

     It wasn’t her fault she couldn’t swim. He doubted soldier ants could swim even if they could be taught how or wanted to.

     Not a whole lot to paddle with below, after all.

     “Alright. Do you trust me?” Vince asked.

     “Of course, Master. This one’s life is yours.”

     “Good. Cut the horse loose after you strip everything off it. Then gather everything up and load yourself with as much as you can. I’ll take care of the rest.”

     Turning his head to the river south of them, Vince set off at quick pace. Sooner than he could believe, he found the point where the trees thinned and the shore began.

     Even the soldiers on this side were entirely focused on the west. This would be their best shot to make this work.

     Dodging back into the woods, he moved east while keeping his eyes open for logs. Big, dry logs.

     He found two of what he was looking for, and a third that would do, by the time he found the spot he wanted. It was between two lookout points, but he’d selected his entry point closer to the one to his west.

     They would be less likely to look east, and the ones further east would have a harder time distinguishing them from the gloom.

     Working quickly, Vince dropped down to the ground and pulled the logs closer together.

     The show to the west had been timed with night falling. The temperature was dropping quickly, and what little light there was came mostly from the stars now, which was rudely interrupted by the blasts of whatever was happening to the west.

     This really couldn’t have been more in their favor unless Vince had been a part of the planning.

     Petra came up behind him, everything packed and stored and carried on her ant abdomen. “This one has freed our animal. She is… she is ready.”

     Vince reached out, flipped open his bag draped over her rear end, and pulled out several cords. With swift pulls, Vince lashed the logs together into a makeshift raft.

     A final cord was used to tie the whole thing to his belt loop and they were ready.

     “Load everything up on this. Some things will get wet, that’s just the way it is. We’ll have to dry and clean everything after.

     “What I want from you, Petra, is to get under the raft. Use your legs to hold on to it and just keep your head above the water. Can you do that?”

     Petra let out a slow breath and then straightened her shoulders. “This one would die for you, Master.”

     “Not quite what I was asking for, but that’ll do. Alright, let’s go. Keep low, keep quiet.”

     Vince looked to the east, then the west, and set off. Waiting wouldn’t benefit anyone.

     When they reached the water, Vince kept going, slithering into it as quietly as he could. Even as he dragged the raft into the water, Petra loaded it up with their belongings and crawled into the water beside him.

     Once the water got to his waist, Vince launched forward into a breaststroke. The cord pulled at his pants as he felt the whole thing shudder, then stabilize.

     Quick, quiet pants for breath behind him, with the occasional sputter, told him Petra had done as he’d asked.

     He didn’t dare turn around to check. His eyes were on the point of the shore he wanted to land on.

     From the across the river, that single point looked like it might have a blind spot for the group to the east.

     Angling himself against the current, Vince swam onward through the cold water. Halfway across, Vince started to get nervous. There wasn’t as much gunfire from the west anymore. Their diversion had managed to even keep the spotlights off for some reason, but the continued fighting had helped.

     Maybe the generator was hit?

     On top of that, his muscles were trembling. Swimming against the current, dragging Petra behind him, and doing so in water that wanted to kill through the cold was sapping his strength.

     And quicker than he’d anticipated.

     Gritting his teeth, Vince pushed himself, pulled at his dwindling reserves and demanded more of his strength.

     His body started to heat up; his heart started to pound in his chest. Onward he swam.

     When his foot touched the muddy bottom, he wanted to collapse right there. His body thrummed and burned with the exertion, only to clash with the bitingly cold wind.

     The temperature had really dropped. Weather patterns had changed since the Wastes were created. Unnatural weather could strike at any time.

     In this case, the air felt like it was bordering on freezing, and the wind only made it a hundred times worse.

     The cord at his waist shifted and he knew Petra had disentangled herself from the raft and gotten her legs back onto the ground.

     A shout went up to the east of them, and before he could think to respond, the cord around his waist snapped, Petra scooped him up in her arms, and they were off like a shot.

     The cold air tore at him, and the sounds of rifles being fired echoed on both sides of them as they passed into the tree line.

     Petra didn’t stop for anything. She sailed through the undergrowth, her legs clicking as she carried them forward.

     She used tree trunks, bushes, anything to push off of and keep them moving.

     Several minutes went by before Petra slowed down, and finally came to a stop.

     The blonde was panting heavily, her lips were blue, and her teeth chattered incessantly.

     Vince tumbled from her arms as her legs gave out from under her.

     He didn’t have much time. For himself, or for her. Looking around, he realized that by sheer luck, she’d taken them right into a small gulley between the trees. He could start a fire and there’d be a good chance they’d be overlooked.

     Even if they were caught, at this point, it’d be better than the alternative.

     Dying of the cold.

     Pulling the saddlebags, baggage, and weapons from Petra’s back and rear, he dropped it all to one side. The brilliant woman had taken the time to gather everything before grabbing him.

     He stripped her quickly, pulling her clothes off until she was nude.

     Her gaze was empty and her eyes glassy. Her teeth clattered like screws in a coffee can.

     Pulling off his own soaking-wet clothes, he dropped them atop hers and then reached into the bags.

     Ripping out a handful of rounds from the ammo tin, he then pulled out his fire starter kit.

     Sweeping off an area of leaves and twigs, Vince pulled out a batch of tinder he’d set aside for fire making.

     Vince put a cartridge between his teeth and bit down. He pulled the bullet free of the jacket with a tug and then dumped the powder into a small pile at the base of the tinder.

     Biting another cartridge, he rushed to one side and quickly began gathering branches.

     Dumping an armful down, he tore another bullet out of the jacket with his teeth, pouring the powder atop the first pile.

     After two more armfuls of branches, a chunk of dead log, and another bullet pulled free, Vince felt like he could start the fire and be able to feed it for a bit.

     Kneeling down in front of the tinder, he pulled out his sparker. It was just a piece of flint attached to a rod that would be dragged across a textured bit of steel.

     He snapped the tool thrice in rapid succession, and the powder caught and went up in a puff of flame.

     Pushing the miniature inferno underneath the tinder, he looked to Petra.

     She was drooping all the way over to one side, like a wilted flower. Her arms hung limply at her sides.

     By the time he looked back to his fire, it had gone up quick. The tinder was aflame and burning. Dropping the dried-out dead log straight into the fire, he waited for a second to make sure it went up in flame, and then crawled over to Petra.

     Wrapping his hands around one of her arms, he winced. Her skin was ice cold.

     “Petra, come with me. Just a little closer to the fire.”

     “Cold, M-m-m-m-master.”

     “I know.” Vince pulled on her arm and the soldier shifted forward sluggishly, her legs pushing at the dirt beside her.

     Pushing a large stack of wood atop the log with a hand, he returned his attention to his companion since the fire was happily throwing out heat now.

     Vince pulled Petra down into the ground beside it. Putting her back to it, he then pushed himself up into the front of her, and pulled her head down into his shoulder.

     Her shivering was intense, and her skin sucked what little heat he had right out of him.

     After a second, her abdomen curled forward, her legs stretching out behind him.

     Then she contracted everything, and he was pressed into her bodily.

     She turned her head slightly, her frozen face pressing into his throat.

     Unwilling to fight her, since it seemed more like she was seeking comfort, he relented, wrapping his arms around her in return.

     Slowly, the insane shivering went away, and her skin gradually picked up some heat.

     Feeling like the worst was over for the moment, Vince closed his eyes and let out a breath as Petra continued to clutch at him with every bit of strength she had left in her.

     Chapter 19

     Slowly, Vince cracked open his eyes as light stabbed at him through the branches and leaves.

     Sleep had been scarce and hard won, and he didn’t really appreciate the early-morning wake-up call.

     He’d been forced to feed the fire several times, and had to even gather more wood at one point during the night.

     The air was cold but not unbearable. The fire he’d set the previous night was coals and embers now but still putting off a good amount of heat on his arms.

     Which were wrapped around Petra, who in turn had wrapped her arms and legs around him.

     Blinking a few times, Vince tilted his head to the side to get a view of their surroundings during the day.

     In shifting his body, he found he was suffering the age-old problem of all men.

     A raging hard-on.

     That happened to be buried in Petra’s abdomen.

     Heat rushed into his face at the situation. At the same time, he realized he could feel Petra’s nipples crammed into his chest.

     Petra nuzzled her face in his neck, his skin prickling wildly at the touch of her lips and memories of the party.

     “This one feels her master’s desire,” Petra murmured against his skin.

     Vince didn’t respond immediately. He was trying to focus his mind as rapidly as he could. They needed to get moving. Start heading south again for home.

     And not thinking about a nude blonde who had devoured him with what seemed like a desperate devotion and—

     No, no, no, no.

     “That you do, Petra. As I said previously, it isn’t you, or a lack of you being attractive.

     “We should get moving,” Vince said firmly.

     Petra ignored him, her mouth moving against his shoulder. He felt her teeth sink into his skin and her tongue brush along his flesh.

     Below, he felt her legs pull at him, shifting his body around. She was positioning his hips to be parallel to her own. As she moved him, the tip of his member dragged down across her navel.

     Vince had a better sense of smell than others. He could smell her moist womanhood and its obvious need without being close at all.

     “Petra,” Vince said huskily, leaning in close to her ear. “As your master, I command you to stop. Not because I don’t want to, but because this isn’t the time or place.”

     At his words, he could practically feel the war within Petra’s head. Her willpower versus her desire.

     Her legs pushed and pulled him up and down at the same time. His member had gotten stuck in the pearl of her entrance. After several seconds where he had to wonder if she’d simply mount him as the others had, she relented.

     Her legs shook almost imperceptibly as she eased him back from herself. Her blue eyes caught him and manhandled him with the need there.

     “Thank you, Petra,” Vince started. Getting to his knees, and angling his soldier, who was at full attention, away from her, he continued, “We should get dressed and probably head west. I’d like to see if we can take a peek at what happened last night.”

     Her eyes tracked his nether parts, her tongue wetting her lips.

     She was always duty strict, ramrod straight. Except apparently when it came to her master.

     She nodded and then turned her eyes up to meet his own. “Yes, Master. This one would agree that a proper scout is in order. She will conduct this duty and return shortly.”

     “Petra, I think—” She was off before he could finish. She’d snatched up her clothes with one arm and dashed off into the trees.

     She’d left behind her armor and weaponry, so it didn’t seem like she was expecting trouble.

     Vince shook his head, watching the soldier ant weave through the trees as she dressed.

     “Maybe she wants to be alone,” Vince muttered to no one. Shrugging his shoulders, he decided to relieve himself of some stress and then get to cleaning up the campsite.

     “So to sum it up, Washington has established a bridge head and an encampment on the southern shore,” Vince summarized as they walked along a game trail through the woods.

     Petra had reported back and they’d set off as she started to explain what she’d seen.

     “This one agrees with that summation. Al was there, as was Seville. The soldiers were busy constructing a fort manned with mechanical gun positions.”

     “Machine guns, you mean,” Vince corrected.

     “Yes.”

     Vince whistled through his teeth. “And you said they were building a bridge as well?”

     “Yes. This one saw that they had engineers using cement to lay what looked like walls. They looked like they would be quite high. They’d also set up a temporary floating wooden bridge as well.”

     “Right. Well, Portland is in trouble. I hope they’ve secretly stashed some weaponry aside for an occasion like this. They’ll need an armored vehicle or some explosives, it sounds like.”

     “This one saw nothing like that.”

     “No, probably not. They’re expensive. Insanely so. Especially to maintain and hire the appropriate people. They might keep that kind of stuff in an armory. I doubt it was on the front line.

     “Whatever, not our problem.”

     The trees began to thin all around them. Slowly, almost without meaning to, they stepped out of the forest and onto a road side.

     Directly across from them was an overly convenient small village.

     Seated in the middle of that, in a prominent and obvious position, was an inn.

     “A road town.” Vince looked up at the sky above them. They could continue on. There was still a number of hours before it even got into the afternoon.

     Petra had taken her time at the river and collected quite a bit of solid information, but not enough to damage their travel speed.

     “Let’s stop here for a moment. We can see if they have supplies we can pick up, maybe a mount.”

     “This one agrees with her master’s sentiment. This one would like to discuss more of what happened at the party. She has yet been able to discuss that metal stamp in Master’s belongings and what they ordered this one to do.”

     Vince grunted and set them on a straight course to the inn.

     “Take the road and hide. I’ll take care of this and head out down the road here as soon as I’m done. Better if they don’t see you. At all, if possible. Besides being pretty of face, your body is fairly distinct.”

     Petra looked to him and then set off down the road. Within moments, she’d managed to get herself to the side of the road and hidden in the brush. She was barely visible to his eye, but only if he looked directly at that spot.

     Leaving her to it, he entered the inn.

     A brief round of haggling, a small bit of info, and Vince was already back on the road, Petra at his side.

     “This one would like to know what Master wishes to do next?”

     “Head south,” Vince said, holding out a strip of jerky to the woman. “Supposedly there’s a stream south of here. Apparently it’s not mountain runoff, either, so there’s a chance it won’t be as cold as an Ice Fairy’s ass.”

     “Any news, Master?”

     “None we didn’t know.”

     The conversation died after that and they trudged onward.

     Vince was sitting on the bank of the stream they’d found. At this moment, he was content.

     Washing all the grit off from sleeping on the dirt had given him a blessedly refreshed feeling.

     The air had warmed enough that sitting in his wet underwear on a grassy bank didn’t bother him. He’d even worn his favorite pair of boxers for it.

     Petra was in the process of scrubbing herself in the same manner as he just had. Her hands were working at one of the creases in her chitin-like skin on her rear end.

     Growling, the soldier slapped the washcloth she was using in her hands.

     “Problem there, Petra?” Vince asked, shading his eyes with one hand.

     She was nude except for the small strip of fabric she’d tied around her waist and nether region.

     Vince was doing his best to ignore her chest, even if his eyes continued to roam over her the moment his concentration slipped.

     “Yes, Master. This one would ask you to assist her in washing. Unfortunately, she cannot take care of her own needs,” Petra said darkly.

     Vince nodded at that and then stood up, walking over to the woman.

     “This one apologies, Master. She is worthless as a woman. Her only use is as a soldier to be tossed into combat.” Petra turned her head to one side as she said it, holding out the washcloth to him.

     “Now, now. None of that. You’re not the emotional, Negative Nancy type. What’s really bothering you?” Vince asked, taking the cloth from her hand.

     Laying his hands on her warm body, he began running his fingers along the firm chitin.

     “This one doesn’t know. She is… she is frustrated. She wants to stab something with her stinger and then eat the creature.”

     Vince raised his eyebrows at that. Shrugging, he splashed water up onto Petra. As the water cascaded down, he began to scrub at the dirt and grit lodged in the crevices.

     Taking his time, since they had plenty of that, he worked diligently on her. Silence reigned supreme for a time as he systematically worked over her abdomen, cleaning, dislodging things, and scrubbing her.

     “Master, the metal stamp you took from the dead man. This one had been ordered not to mention it at all. It can unlock any slave collar, break any order, and force any slave to accept new orders.”

     Vince had figured it was something like that. It didn’t surprise him that the slavers had a contingency plan put into place.

     “This one was scared they would ask her questions about Master. Instead, they only ordered this one to not to speak of the stamp. Then they asked if she was there voluntarily and wanted to be.”

     Dunking the cloth into the water, Vince then shook it out. Reaching around to the back of Petra, he started working at the area where he knew her stinger was.

     Keeping his fingers mindful, he did his best to clean her up without aggravating her.

     “While they didn’t ask other questions, they did reveal that every auction house location has at least one stamp in case of emergencies.”

     “Makes sense.” Vince carefully pressed his fingers into the crevices of her chitinous plate, pulling free grit and grunge.

     “This one thanks her master. His touch is calming.”

     He wondered for a moment. Her venom seemed rather strong and could kill in minutes.

     “Petra, possibly awkward question for you.” Vince stood up and gave her abdomen one last look before feeling like he’d completed his task.

     “Ask this one anything, Master, she is yours.”

     “Your venom seems… extremely strong. Does it survive outside of you for long?”

     “This one has never tested that, but she knows it is still effective after a number of days.”

     “Would you mind if I milked you? I’ve done it before with snakes. I’d like to see if I can use your venom for anything.”

     Petra eyed him warily, her brows coming together.

     “How would this be done?” she asked neutrally.

     “It’s rather simple. I imagine you need to put your stinger into something that gives resistance to be able to inject your poison. I happen to have a mason jar with me with nothing in it. I put some fabric over the top, angle your stinger, and put it in. Hopefully your venom comes right out.”

     “This one is willing,” she said slowly.

     “Great. After me, then.” Vince made his way over to his saddlebags. After a moment, he fished out a strip of leather and a mason jar.

     Taking a seat on the grass, he patted the area next to him.

     Petra came over and then stood up to angle her stinger towards him.

     Reaching out, he took hold of the rear of her abdomen. With a careful hand, he guided the stinger into the leather that was wrapped around the mason jar.

     The stinger pierced the leather easily and almost immediately venom began pumping out.

     Petra managed to ease herself down into a semi-sitting position as she watched.

     Reaching around the base of her stinger, Vince began to gently push on it, trying to simulate prey for her.

     Her response was automatic, and she pushed her abdomen forward against the jar.

     Vince couldn’t look away. Her venom was freely flowing, a watery, sticky-looking substance that had filled a fifth of the jar already.

     Petra made a soft noise that shook his concentration. It had almost sounded like a moan of discomfort.

     Looking up to the soldier ant to make sure she was okay, he was mildly surprised.

     Her eyelids were fluttering, her breath unsteady, and her cheeks a rosy red.

     “Are you alright, Petra?”

     “Master, it feels… very good. Though she thinks she must stop.”

     Vince then noticed the smell of her. It was the same as from the forest. Maybe even a little more intense.

     He looked to her underwear strap as if he could peer through it. The way she looked, the sound of her breath, the very smell of her, and the memories of her from that morning clouded his mind.

     Petra must have caught where he was looking, as her hands immediately dipped down to her underwear band. With quick fingers, she unfastened it and pulled it away, revealing her glistening privates to him.

     Her fingers pressed to those moist lips and her thumbs stroked the hood of her pearl.

     Vince almost lost the grip on his mason jar. Pulling it back, it made a soft pop as her stinger came free of the leather.

     Turning his head, he found a flat rock to gently set the glass container down on.

     Petra’s hands hadn’t remained idle in his momentary distraction. As he turned his head back to her, she’d changed positions.

     Her abdomen was out behind her, and she was hunched over his boxers.

     Deftly, she maneuvered her mouth into the hole in the front and fished him out with her lips.

     A quick inhale from her and Vince was buried to the hilt in that warm, hungry mouth.

     She made a soft mewling noise as she bobbed her head up and down. Her fingers had tracked down his jewels and were massaging them tenderly.

     “Damn,” Vince said with a hitched breath.

     Petra’s eyes flicked up to him and she seemed to come to herself in that look.

     Letting him slide out of her mouth, she backed up, her hands coming free of his boxers. “Master, this one apologizes, she knows she’s not humanoid, but—”

     “Petra, shut up.” Vince pushed his boxers down quickly. Reaching over, he slid a hand behind her neck as the other pushed up into the mound above her nether region.

     The soldier ant cooed into his mouth when his lips met hers.

     Moving with his original intent, he pushed her back into the grass, settling atop her as his tongue snaked out into her mouth.

     Petra let out a rough breath through her nose against his cheek, her hands alighting all over him. As if his skin were fire and she couldn’t touch him for long.

     His own hands went to work immediately. One hand cupped one of her breasts and gave it a gentle squeeze as his other hand reached further down beyond her mound.

     Finding her wet entry was easy; the problem was the moment he touched it, she ground herself into his palm.

     Whimpering excitedly, Petra threw her head back, exposing her neck as she thrust her hips at his hand.

     Taking the invitation, Vince turned his head and sunk his teeth into her white neck. Biting down hard, he felt her buck against him. Hanging on to her, he sunk his teeth as deeply as he could without causing her to bleed.

     Her whimpers had turned into panting moans, her fingers hooking into his shoulders and digging in.

     Releasing her throat, Vince resettled himself, his hands coming up to rest just under her armpits, pressing to the ground.

     She looked at him then, blue eyes wide with hopeless devotion and yearning.

     And fear.

     Using his knees, he pinned the top pair of her legs against her sides. When he concentrated on the feel of it, the position felt identical to Fes or Meliae. The skin of her legs felt more firm and were thinner, but there wasn’t much difference.

     Then he reached down with one hand. Grasping a hold of his shaft, he guided himself to her entrance, and then pushed into her.

     Petra’s moans were choked off as he entered her. Her hands pulled at him roughly, her body shuddering underneath him. Inch by inch he filled her, pushing deep into her.

     Once there was nothing left to put inside her, he stopped, his eyes drinking in the sight of her.

     Her eyes were a touch glassy and her mouth turned up in a small smile. “It hurts, Master.”

     “My apologies, Petra. The first time normally isn’t the most pleasant.”

     “It feels good already, though, Master. The brief pain was when this one lost her maidenhead. She will be fine. Use her for your pleasure. Your pleasure is hers. Use her.” Petra accentuated her demands by pulling her hips back and then thrusting up at him, effectively forcing him in and out of her an inch or two.

     Vince shook his head with a smile. Her attitude towards his pleasure seemed broken to him, but who was he to complain.

     Closing the distance between them, he kissed her tenderly and then drew his hips back.

     Coming up for air, he watched her as he thrust himself back in. She mewled once, and then eagerly pushed up at him with her whole body as if to get to him quicker.

     Satisfied she wasn’t in pain, Vince began to work himself back and forth through her channel. His head dipped down to sneak kisses and licks of her face and neck.

     Petra’s hands trailed up and down his back as her other four legs occasionally pressed to his shoulders or hips. As if wanting him to thrust into her harder.

     “Use this one. Use her for everything. Use her,” Petra murmured. “Use her. Use her. Make her moan. Break her. Fill her. Use her till she can’t stand. Dirty her. Own her.”

     The rapid descent into dirty talk with her soft, charming voice was a surprise. Reaching up, he captured her wrists and then pinned them above her head with one of his hands. His other hand pressed more deeply into her side as he started to thrust into harder.

     Leaning his head down, he bit down viciously into her neck, the soft flesh filing his mouth.

     “Yes, yes! Use her, fill her. Make her yours. Tell her what you want. Anything. Anything. Fill her with seed!” Petra called out, not fighting him in the least, struggling to raise her hips with each thrust.

     The sweet sound of her begging voice, the way she wanted to be dominated by him without a hint of a game, the way she screamed it at him made him drunk on the power of it.

     This wasn’t anything like the way Meliae wanted to be broken. To be used extremely and in a humiliating way. Meliae wanted to be forced, for him to break her, to show her off in a way that would shame her.

     Petra just wanted to be used. To be used for his pleasure.

     Her legs settled onto his back and pushed into him wildly when he entered her.

     The force of the impact of his hips started to knock the wind out of Petra, her breath coming out in groans and gasps. The clap of her flesh with each entry echoed through the trees.

     “Seed me,” she begged as she gasped for breath, his hips having sped up further and pounding her into the grass.

     Vince released her dark, bruising flesh and lifted his head. Then kissed her savagely, his shaft tightening as seed slammed through his member. Filling her.

     Petra whimpered happily into his mouth, her legs closing tightly around his hips and pulling him in as close as possible.

     At the height of each spurt, he ground himself against her, eliciting a fresh batch of whimpered moans.

     As he came down from his orgasm, Petra squirmed under him, her hips pushing at him, her legs pulling at his waist still.

     Surrendering her lips, he watched her from an inch or two away.

     “Master cannot pull out until all his seed is claimed. Please wait to pull out. Please,” Petra pleaded with him, watching him wide blue eyes.

     Vince smiled at the crazed soldier ant and laid his head own on her shoulder, releasing her wrists above her head.

     As if they were made of magnets and his back iron, her arms slammed down around his shoulders, pressing him tightly to herself.

     “You seeded this one. Seeded her fully.”

     “Yes, I did. Damn, were you sexy about it, too.”

     “This one lives to serve you, Master. Seeding her was a gift to her from you. Master need only ask for anything else. Anything. Only ask. She will do anything. Anything you want.”

     Vince didn’t respond to that. Instead, he closed his eyes and snuggled his head to her shoulder. He enjoyed the warmth and comfort that she offered.

     Chapter 20

     “Sweetling, I missed you!”

     Vince’s eyes popped open as Meliae pressed herself bodily against him. She nuzzled her head under his chin. Then she rubbed her body against his, her fingers digging into his clothes.

     Vince and Petra had fallen asleep on the stream bank rather than keep traveling. Of course, that was after having their second time right there on the stream bed.

     A glance at the sky told him it was early morning. The sun was barely up.

     Petra was beside him, still snoring despite Meliae’s entrance.

     Her clothes were rumpled but she was dressed. He knew for a fact she was missing her underwear band, though. They’d pushed her shirt up out of the way the second time and stripped the band off.

     Smiling at the warm and cuddly Dryad, he wrapped his arms around her in a hug.

     “Well hello there. How’d you find us? I would have thought you’d be further south than us,” Vince admitted.

     Meliae scoffed, lifting her head up to meet his eyes. “As if I wouldn’t know where my tree was. I can always feel you. Always know where you are.”

     “Good to know.” Vince grinned and kissed her once.

     Looking up, he found Fes a few steps beyond where he lay. She had one hand pressed to her midsection, the other holding on to her mount. She looked ragged, but on the mend. A wide smile was plastered on her face as his eyes met hers. “You’re looking better, Berenga. I’m glad. I was worried for you.”

     “I’m well, husband. In pain, but well. Our seed grower has tended to me expertly,” the Orc said. Her shoulders had looked stiff at first, but she seemed to droop as she spoke.

     Meliae nodded her head, pressing her face into his chest. “You smell like Petra,” she murmured.

     “I don’t doubt that. Alright, get up, my little nymph. I need to go hug that grumpy Orc Fes of mine,” Vince said teasingly, patting the Dryad on the back.

     “Only because you called me yours,” Meliae said, freeing him. She rolled over and curled up against Petra, resting her head on the soldier ant’s shoulder.

     Petra’s eyes opened, her head tilting down to find Meliae.

     The Dryad gave her a grin and then whispered something to her.

     Ignoring them both, Vince stood up and then walked over to Fes.

     Meliae mentioned in her letter that Fes needed some attention. This would be a good opportunity for that.

     Trying to stand up straight, Fes let go of the horse and held her arms open to him.

     That alone was out of the ordinary for Fes. Pulling her into a tight hug, he held her. Laying his head to hers, he tenderly ran his hands up and down her back.

     “You okay, Fes?” Vince whispered in her ear.

     “I hurt. Our seed grower saved me from death, I’m sure of it. I think she understated how badly I was injured. She spends much energy to heal me every hour.”

     Vince let out a shallow breath and hugged Fes tighter.

     “She takes care of everything for me as I heal. I owe her. How can I be Fes if I can’t protect her, Petra, or you?”

     “Because you gained these injuries while being Fes, Fes. No one will slight you for being wounded tending to your duty. You just need to heal now.”

     “You’ve claimed Petra,” Fes said. It really wasn’t much of a question, since it did look rather obvious.

     “Yeah, I did.” Vince leaned back and gave Fes a smile. “And you’re Fes.”

     Fes nodded her head at that. She didn’t seem upset in any way, shape, or form at that. If anything, there was the slightest bit of relief in her eyes.

     “I was angry.”

     “Angry?” Vince parroted back, not quite understanding.

     “When fighting the soldiers at the village. They fought like Petra. They tried to separate me from you all. So they could flank you.

     “Was very angry. Everywhere, I lose ground. Meliae warmed more than your bed, and she has your seed. Petra now shares your bed. I don’t think I can join your bed in my current condition. Petra fights me to a standstill and I can’t beat her. My aim with the rifles isn’t as good as everyone else.

     “I’m losing my place.” Fes’s eyes looked clouded to him. Lost.

     Vince frowned at that and thought about his answer. What he’d have said to a human woman wouldn’t work with Berenga. She was a strong, proud Orc woman. One who didn’t need any of them and chose to be here.

     Behind him, he could hear Petra and Meliae whispering back and forth. He did his best to ignore it and tune it out; he didn’t really want to listen in to what they were saying right now.

     “That doesn’t sound like my Fes at all,” Vince said finally, having come to the answer he wanted to give her. “My Fes would learn from her enemies and how to beat them. My Fes would claim her place in my bed even if she could not claim me as violently as she normally would. My Fes would practice until she’s better than everyone else with the rifle. My Fes wouldn’t cower and whimper,” Vince said firmly.

     Fes’s eyes were wide and locked on to his face. Her mouth hung open and her breathing stopped.

     “My Fes is having a tough time right now, though. She’s trying to hold on to her beliefs, to get what she wants, and to remain who she is.

     “I’m sure she’ll come to a decision once she recovers. Berenga is still my Fes, after all. Isn’t she?”

     Fes’s mouth closed and her jaw muscles bunched. Her shoulders straightened and her tired dark eyes looked like they were lit from the inside with anger.

     A ghost of who she had been before their journey north was coming back. The woman he’d met in the wilderness who wouldn’t bow down to anyone.

     Her hands pressed into his back for a second more, then she let go of him. Her hands drifted to the front of his chest. Trailing her fingers down for a second, she then curled her fingers into his clothes. With a jerk on his clothes, she pulled him forward bodily towards herself.

     Then she kissed him. Roughly, wantonly, and very much in Fes fashion.

     Pulling back from him, she pressed her forehead to his. “Your seed is mine tonight,” growled the Orc warrior.

     They made good time on their way back south. They made a brief stop in Salem to pick up supplies and another horse.

     The time on the road was spent mostly in rest. Conversation flowed easily between the four of them.

     Fes seemed as if she’d woken up. Each time they stopped, she demanded that Petra, as her subordinate, instruct her in her fighting style.

     Fes couldn’t put everything to full speed, but she seemed apt in her lessons. Often, Meliae would have to halt the lesson when Fes was close to hurting herself or reopening her wounds.

     The Dryad doted on Fes as if she were an older sister to her. She brooked no nonsense from her once it was clear she’d overdone it. In everything else, she submitted to Fes immediately.

     The Orc warrior had also decided she need to re-stake her claim, or so it seemed to Vince. She’d claimed his bed for a week straight. It wasn’t as rough and tumble as it had been before she was injured, but it was still rather violent, all things considered.

     Suffice it to say, Vince tried to go easy on her, though he did allow her to come out on top once or twice.

     As if she’d re-solidified something in her own thinking, she returned him to a rotation. Petra had moved into the second night position and Meliae the third.

     He didn’t question it, and didn’t really want to. Whatever they were working out between themselves didn’t need him butting in right now.

     It wasn’t until they reached Sacramento that they’d stopped for longer than a night.

     Sacramento had a very large Ranger guild hub, a central banking site, and one of the largest news networks available.

     Which meant it was probably the best place for them to hunker down for a few days and get their bearings.

     Vince was alone as he exited the Ranger guild hall. He’d relayed everything he knew to his superiors, had gotten paid for his work, with a considerable bonus, and was asked to not speak of this incident to anyone. At which point they’d paid him another bonus.

     Buying my silence. No one wants it known that a Ranger guild not only fell, but fell internally.

     Vince shook his head and looked around at his surroundings.

     The mood had certainly changed since the last time he’d been here.

     Slaves were being walked on leashes instead of being allowed to walk free. Almost on every corner, men and women were denouncing Washington for being in league with the Wastes. There was a considerable amount of fear and anger coursing throughout the streets.

     On top of that, the militia forces had been called to active duty, then told to assist the police in their work.

     Soldiers and anyone who could be useful in a war had been sent north.

     The Empire was responding to Washington’s break with the government. The slave guild was funding a huge portion of the war as well.

     Everything was going to shit.

     Under his arm was the box of vouchers. He’d planned on heading to the bank after this and negotiating a transfer to standards at a loss.

     Standards could be spent anywhere; the vouchers could not.

     Giving himself a quick onceover, he found he looked the part of an everyday citizen. He didn’t want to stand out in case the slave guild started to ask questions about those vouchers.

     With a steady pace and a wary eye, Vince made his way to the bank. He seated himself sedately in the lobby after having asked to speak with the branch manager.

     The branch manager at a location like this would be a rather influential person, he was sure. It’d also be the best person to work with on this deal.

     Vince surreptitiously studied the bank. Guards were in every corner, armed with rifles and fixed bayonets. On top of that, the bank employed two machine guns. They were both on raised platforms in opposite corners, enclosed except for a narrow slit they could see out of.

     Security here was no joke.

     A woman stepped in front of him and held out her hand to him.

     “Hi there, I’m Nancy, Nancy Lu,” said the woman in clear tones. “I’m the bank manager. I believe you asked to speak with me, Mister…?”

     She was an attractive woman of Asian origin. She dressed like someone in her mid-thirties, but her face and body skewed his perceived age of her.

     Long black hair fell down her back and her large dark brown eyes flowed over him.

     Standing up, he immediately took her hand and gave it a firm handshake.

     “Name’s Smith,” Vince lied smoothly, giving her the brightest smile he could.

     Her handshake was strong, her skin soft. Then Vince gently caressed her mind with his extra senses. She was a vulture, a wolf, a buzzard, a lion, a shark. Everything she was was predatory. Everything had a price in her mind, and there was no end to the lengths she would go to make money.

     Raising her eyebrows at him, she gave him a warm smile. “Would you accompany me to my office?”

     “Of course, Miss Lu. After you,” Vince said, releasing her hand.

     “Please, call me Nancy.”

     She turned and walked off towards an office door that was in line with the teller windows.

     Holding the door open for him, Nancy closed it as soon as he crossed the threshold.

     “What can I do for you today, Mr. Smith?” she asked.

     Vince smiled at her and took a seat in front of the large wooden desk. Opening the box, he removed the vouchers and laid them down in front of her as she took her seat.

     “I’m afraid I don’t quite have the confidence I used to in the Auction House. What with the war and all. I’d like to convert these to standards.”

     Nancy picked up one of the vouchers. She tapped a long finger against one of the seals and flipped it over to look at the back.

     “These appear authentic. Would you mind if I had someone inspect them?”

     “Be my guest. I was hoping to get ninety-five percent of their value in standards. The remainder being a service fee of sorts.”

     Nancy thumbed a button on a small plastic square in front of her. “Could you please have Andy come in here? I need him to authenticate a voucher.”

     “Right away, ma’am,” replied someone on the other end.

     “Well, Mr. Smith, I can certainly agree to cash these out for standards. We deal with the guild for many services and often.

     “I’m not sure I could do it at ninety-five, though.”

     She gave him an underwear-melting smile and leaned forward over her desk. While she was dressed modestly, her movement had revealed some cleavage. Belatedly, he realized she had a body similar to Meliae’s.

     And there’s where it starts. The beautiful bank manager who gets a better cut because she uses her advantages.

     “I’m willing to negotiate. Many things have a price you wouldn’t normally think to offer,” Vince replied with a grin.

     In this case, he was the one with an upper hand. There were other banks he could go to. He also had a small harem that took care of his appetites.

     At that moment, a knock came at the office door. Nancy sat back in her desk. “Come!”

     A soldier walked in, dressed out in dark brown fatigues with a helmet covering his head.

     “Ah, Andy, good. Here, please check this to confirm it’s authentic,” Nancy said, holding out the voucher she’d been handling.

     The man, who looked as ordinary as dirt, took the paper from her. Ten seconds of intense scrutiny later, he handed it back to her.

     “Authentic.” Without waiting to be dismissed, the man known as Andy walked back out the door and was gone. As the door closed behind him, Vince finally noticed the slave collar around the man’s neck.

     Nancy huffed at the rude departure and put the voucher back into the pile. “His work is excellent, but his manners are awful.”

     The bank manager tapped a finger onto the vouchers in thought. Then she picked up the stack and began counting them.

     “There’s eighty there. All at ten thousand marks.”

     Nancy nodded her head but kept counting. When she was done, she realigned the stack and looked at him again. Putting her chin in one hand, supporting it with her elbow on the desk, she smiled at him.

     “You mentioned things that didn’t normally have a price. What’d you have in mind?” Her eyes had an inviting look to him that he was sure she’d practiced for hours.

     “Ninety-five percent of the value, in bank notes. No documentation other than ‘Smith.’ I believe I’d like to tip you five percent of the value. So I’d need ninety percent for me, five percent for your lovely self, and five percent for the bank.

     Personal greed always did nicely. She might be willing to sleep with him, but that wouldn’t help him in the long run.

     Not to mention Petra had kept him awake late into the night the previous evening. Nancy was beautiful, but Vince was still spent.

     Nancy’s eyebrows shot up at that, her flirty demeanor lost in an instant. She was more than likely well paid. Few without morals would willingly turn down forty thousand standards.

     Considering it seemed like she was willing to sleep with him to knock down a few percentages, he doubted she’d be able to walk from a deal like that.

     Nancy thumbed the electronic square of plastic on her desk into an off position. Then she got up and went to the door. With a turn of her wrist, she locked it.

     She gave him a truly radiant smile then. “Done. Let’s get you taken care of immediately. Maybe we can talk more later tonight as well?”

     Thirty minutes later and Vince was at large with seven hundred and twenty thousand standards in bank notes in a wooden box tucked under an arm. They were all in various denominations of ten, twenty, and fifty thousand standards.

     Standing there, he took a minute to collect his thoughts. Nancy would do whatever she felt would further her goals. And he doubted she was above having someone assaulted who had left the bank with more than half a million standards.

     Now he was glad he’d taken the time to think of an escape route if he was followed from the bank.

     He had no proof he was, or was going to be, but there wasn’t a reason to take a chance.

     For all he knew, she was genuinely interested in him as a person and nothing to do with his money.

     A healthy dose of paranoia keeps one alive.

     Taking a breath, he set off on a direct route for an inn he wasn’t staying at. Stepping in through the front doors, he didn’t pause or hesitate. He acted as if he owned the place and went right up the stairs.

     At the end of the second-floor hallway was a window. That window had been open when he’d been planning his alternate escape route. Feeling quite lucky indeed, he found it was still open.

     Hopping through the open frame, he dropped down to the alley behind with a dull thud.

     Hightailing it through the alley, he kept himself to the back streets until he made it back to the Ranger guild.

     A flash of his card, a smile for the receptionist, and he was inside. Safe from prying eyes.

     As part of the services rendered to all its members, the Ranger guild offered key-operated lockboxes in a private vault.

     Vince paid the admin the minor fee and entered the vault. Walking up to the wall of lockboxes, he selected one with its key inserted.

     Forty-two.

     All the boxes were bolted to the wall and came out on a shelf welded to a giant steel frame. These weren’t going anywhere.

     Pulling his choice out of its tray, he flipped open the steel lid. A cursory glance and he’d confirmed it was empty except for the owner’s tag, which he fished out quickly.

     Opening the wooden box under his arm, he pulled out two bank notes for fifty thousand standards. Then he closed and dumped the wooden box into the lockbox.

     Dropping the lid in place, he shoved the whole thing back into the wall, then locked it back up and pulled the key out.

     No one would be able to open his box without the key, and there were no duplicates.

     Only the guild had the master key, and they only did an annual sweep to make sure boxes were paid for and working as intended.

     Hiding away the bank notes and the key, Vince went back to the admin. Handing over the owner’s token and his Ranger ID, he waited.

     Identity recorded, ownership logged, he was free to go.

     Vince slipped back into the common room and started towards the room he was sharing with the girls.

     He needed to pick up Meliae and then head over to the slave market. Fes would be resting, and Petra could stand guard.

     The market would be opening up in an hour, and supposedly it was going to be a big one. Many slaves were being sold in the south since the northern market was not completely accessible.

     He had a plan. It would take a huge chunk of his newfound wealth, but so be it.

     Petra’s earlier comment still rang inside his head. He could buy many, many slaves. Put many men and women to work in an area that no one would bother them. Give them a chance to live a life that was denied to them.

     That, or they could simply go back to whatever life they wanted in the Wastes. He wouldn’t keep them if they didn’t wish to be kept.

     And with the possibility of that many mouths to feed, he’d need far more in the way of tools and supplies.

     He was only just starting. And time was already against him.

     Soon both sides would realize that slavery was the economical lynch pin for some areas. The military would turn to purchasing them for military recruits, and Washington would do their best to get them to join their cause.

     Vince only had so much time before that happened.

     Time to get to work.

     Chapter 21

     Vince settled into the recliner near the rear of the theater. The slaver guild had converted it after a number of their big auctions had been rained out one too many times in the past.

     Regardless of weather, this auction could continue.

     “A bit upscale for a dungeon,” Meliae whispered from beside him. She’d slunk into the empty recliner and adjusted herself.

     “I’m sure it’s easier to sell people if they feel like it’s professionally done.”

     Meliae harrumphed at that and then snuck her hand over the arms of the recliners to clasp his own. “They stare,” she said by way of explanation.

     Vince looked around at the few people who were seating in seats nearby. Quite a few men immediately turned their gaze elsewhere as Vince met their eyes.

     “You can’t blame them. You’re beautiful and you’re showing off a little,” Vince said, indicating with a finger the tight clothes she’d put on.

     “Fair enough. And yes, I am showing off. Everyone should admire me and my tree. I was hoping there’d be another Dryad here so I could gloat.”

     “That’s surprisingly petty of you,” Vince said with a grin.

     “We all have our hang-ups. Mine is wanting to show you off to everyone. Besides, you love me for it,” Meliae purred at him, pressing herself up into the arm of her recliner and giving him an eyeful.

     Love her for it? Do I?

     That wasn’t something he was quite prepared to answer. Sure, he liked her. Impregnated her. Spent every third night with her.

     But did he love her?

     Seemed like a silly thing to ask himself at this point, in the whole scheme of things.

     Instead, he gave her a sincere smile. “Be good and I’ll humiliate you terribly tonight.”

     Meliae’s eyes flashed to a full green. She barely managed a nod with her head, her eyes slowly going back to normal.

     “Promise?” she whispered softly.

     “You’ll feel shame for days.”

     Meliae blinked rapidly, clearly battling for control of her emotions. Turning, she settled back into her recliner, and crossed her legs. Her left hand still remained in his, her fingers slowly intertwining through his own.

     With Meliae, rewards always went further than punishments. Because her rewards were punishments.

     From her actions, he could guess she had been planning on ramping up the pressure on him until he had to do something.

     Rather than wait, he’d cut to the heart of the matter.

     “Good afternoon, everyone!” called a voice from the stage at the front of the theater.

     “What are we looking for, Sweetling? I understand the plan in general. I’m not a planner like Petra, though. Even Fes might be better than me for this.”

     “We’re looking for good-hearted people we can welcome aboard. It would do us no good bringing people who would be poison for us. I trust your instincts, my little Dryad. Put them to work for your tree, would you?”

     Meliae blushed so heavily it looked more like she was holding her breath. Her thumbnail grazed up along the inside of his palm.

     Vince turned back to the front as the auction started.

     “Our first item. A lot sale for two families of Elves. They’re generational slaves at this point and well trained. We’re offering them as a group sale today, but we can negotiate a separate contract if the buyer wishes only a partial purchase.”

     Vince looked at the group of twenty-three that walked in from the right side of the stage.

     What the auctioneer hadn’t said was that they were Dark Elves. Of the many sub species of Elfin-kind, many distrusted the Dark Elves on a superstitious level. Whatever fool that decided to sell them as a group would only exacerbate that superstitious belief.

     “Opening bid is ten standards, do I have ten?” That was a low price. A very low price. Not even a full standard per person.

     The group ranged in ages and sexes, from small children to the elderly.

     All were nude, as was the custom with slaves.

     “I have ten, do I have fifteen?”

     Vince carefully brushed the mind of each and found they were all uniformly terrified. Terrified and resigned. Whatever home they came from had been warm and kind. They had no illusions to where they’d be going from here.

     Especially the women.

     “You will buy them. All of them,” Meliae said, her voice hard.

     “I’ll buy them,” Vince agreed, giving Meliae’s hand a squeeze. The Dryad shot him a look, and then gave him a bashful smile.

     “Thank you…” Meliae said softly, turning her face back to the stage.

     “Ten going twice—” called the auctioneer.

     Vince held up his placard in his left hand.

     “I have fifteen, do I have twenty?”

     There were no higher bids.

     “Once, twice, thrice, sold to the gentleman in the back.”

     Vince looked to his side and found an usher coming his way. Waving the man in, Vince set his left hand on the man’s shoulder.

     “I’m going to be purchasing a good number of people today. I’d like you to arrange a storage facility so my purchases remain undamaged. Do a good job and I’ll tip you one hundred standards. Questions?”

     “No, sir, I’m your man. I’ll take care of it,” enthused the young man.

     “Good. Go.”

     Vince turned back to the stage.

     The next two sales were gladiators. They had hatred in their hearts and had been born and raised for nothing but death. They wouldn’t do well with his plan. Their battle experience would be useful, but only so long as they had an enemy he could throw them at.

     Lost in a thought, he missed the next introduction and looked to the stage to find a group of Ogres and Trolls. Seven in total.

     They were regarded as slow and stupid creatures, but when Vince peeked into their minds, he found they were of an average intelligence. Though their thoughts were ponderous things.

     Of the seven, six were of a mind that he could work with. The big Troll on the end was a nasty thing, though. She’d been abusing the others up to this point and regarded them as trash.

     “I want six of them, skipping the big female on the end,” Vince said.

     “You clearly see something I don’t,” Meliae said with a confused sound.

     Vince hesitated, then came clean. “I’m empathic, to a degree. I can sift through their thoughts and feelings. If I push it, I can read their memories, but it takes a lot out of me. It’s why I need you here. I need you to bounce my gift off of and confirm it so I don’t waste energy. Let’s discuss this more in depth elsewhere.”

     Meliae nodded her head vigorously at that. “Buy all seven. She’s a brute, but I’ll speak with her. Trolls listen to us Dryads. They’re more like plants than people.”

     Vince thought on that but then held up his placard. He trusted Meliae. This was him showing that trust.

     “Sold to the gentleman who looks like he prefers buying in bulk for seventy standards.”

     The auction proceeded in that way, Vince buying up anyone who looked like they’d suit his purposes.

     In the end, he picked up a family of Wood Elves, several Goblins, an entire colony of Beaver Beastmen, two Dryads whose trees had been found and sold with them, a group of Bearmen, an entire village of Dwarves, and a vast array of one-offs.

     The final count was well over two hundred and sixty people and a mite shy of three thousand standards. The costs had been cheap in his eyes.

     At this rate, it’d take him forever to run out of money.

     Meliae and Vince were escorted to a warehouse in the back of the theater.

     “I’m so sorry, sir, I had to put most of them here, but the rest of them are in another room,” apologized the usher.

     “Not a problem. You’ve done fantastic. Could you fetch the manager for me?” Vince asked, surveying the room of milling life that he was now responsible for.

     “He’s already on his way, sir.”

     Vince nodded at that. Meliae was already pushing her way through the crowd, making her way straight for the big Troll at the back.

     “Ah, forgive me for keeping you waiting,” panted a fat man with sweat-plastered hair and weak blue eyes.

     Vince looked to the man and then held out his hand.

     “Pleasure doing business with you. I assume you’ll waive the registration fees and simply write them all to my account. In addition, the return of their clothes, of course?” Vince asked.

     The fat man froze as he placed his hand within Vince’s.

     “I’ll be in town for three more days. I do hope you were planning on holding an auction each day as well? I have a great deal of time on my hands and I’m purchasing as many as I can before I head back to the East Coast.”

     The manager took that in and then smiled broadly at Vince. “Yes, we can handle the collars, registration, and clothes easily.

     “We were actually only this morning talking about having more sales tomorrow. I guarantee we’ll have much more available tomorrow and the day after.”

     “Great. I’ll also need to purchase wagons from you to transport them. If you can get me reasonable rates on food for them for a journey of two weeks, I’ll do business with you on that matter as well.”

     The manager smiled even wider and bobbed his head. “Of course, of course. I’ll take care of everything. Would you like to open a line of credit—”

     “No. I’m giving this to you for safekeeping. I expect an exact account of everything at the end of this. If you even think of taking advantage of me, I’ll buy this building from the bank and lodge a complaint with the guild.

     “My accountant will be combing through this for every single standard spent,” Vince threatened, handing over one of his bank notes.

     “I’d never dreaaaeeeuuuhhhh…” the manager said lamely, looking at the amount on the note. “Sir, this is—”

     “It’s not enough? Here. Another, then,” Vince said, handing over the second note. He was deliberately being vague and stupid with his money. “If you need more than that, I’ll need to stop at the bank first. And if you breathe a word of this to anyone, or my presence here, well, please refer to my earlier statement about your building and the guild.”

     The manager had gone from a happy, red-faced fat man to a fearful, white-faced fat man scurrying away to get everything in order.

     Looking back out to the crowd of faces looking up to him on the platform, he tried to pick out Meliae.

     “Of course she is,” Vince murmured on seeing her. She was with the other two Dryads, happily chatting away with them.

     “Many apologies, Lord, for interrupting your grace as you surveyed your merchandise, but I would beg a word with you,” came a soft, breathy voice.

     Turning his head to the side, he found his entire purchase of Dark Elves watching him.

     At the forefront was a young Dark Elf woman, naked as the day she was born. She did her best to hide her shame at her situation.

     “What can I do for you…?” Vince asked, deliberately ignoring her nakedness.

     “I am called Thera, my lord. I would offer myself to you as concubine to assure my friends and family of good placement. My previous master had sought to sell me off when I reached my full maturity, so I am, as of yet, unsoiled.”

     Pretty sure she just told me she was a virgin.

     “No, I’m afraid—”

     Another young Dark Elf woman rushed forward and prostrated herself in front of him.

     “Please, lord, take my sister and I as concubines, if only to guarantee our families proper treatment. We have never experienced the touch of a man; we were to be sold as needed,” pleaded Thera.

     “Listen—”

     “Lord, please,” begged the group in unison.

     Vince sighed and pressed a hand to his eyes.

     Accept them, never touch them. They’ll shut up and work hard for you.

     “Fine. Consider yourself so chosen, Thera, but not your sister, I’m—”

     At that moment, the big family of Wood Elves made an appearance, pushing in amongst the Dark Elves. Two young Wood Elf women prostrated themselves next to their Dark Elf kin.

     “Master, my name is Eva—” started the wood Elf next to Thera in a musical voice.

     “Fine! Stop, no more. Thera and Eva are now concubines. I order you and your families to stop anyone else from attempting the same thing. Consider your families as my house servants and chamberlain.”

     Vince was losing his temper. He wanted none of them and they’d die virgins before he touched them.

     “The manager is coming back with clothes. Distribute them to their owners. Be fair, be diligent, take no sides.

     “Tonight, everyone is going to be loaded into wagons. I need you all to arrange it and get everyone properly ordered. You’ll be leaving as soon as night falls with a companion of mine.

     “She will lead you to a point where we’ll be camping until we move.”

     Vince ground out the words between his teeth as he stared at the Elves. “Any questions?”

     “My lord, which of us should service your bed tonight?” Thera asked in a voice bordering on breaking.

     “Neither of you. Now go, shoo.”

     The two he’d “chosen” as concubines convened with their cohorts. The Dark and Wood Elves put any differences they had aside and merged into one group. After a rapid exchange in a language he didn’t know, they broke apart, splintering into the crowd.

     His two “concubines” took up positions on each side of him, watching the crowd with him.

     Eying the women critically, he quirked a brow. “And what are you two up to?”

     “Following your orders,” Thera said immediately.

     “We shall prevent anyone else from approaching,” Eva concluded.

     “I see. Well, don’t stop the Dryads. I have business with them,” Vince said, turning his eye to the three Dryads shuffling their way over with two trees between the three of them.

     The three Dryads resembled each other vaguely, though they had different heights, and vastly different appearances. Though each had the same green eyes that Meliae did.

     The first Dryad was several inches taller than Meliae. Though her body type was similar to Meliae, her hips were a touch narrower, though her chest was larger. Her hair was a dark brown with lighter brown streaks throughout. Like everyone else he’d purchased, her hair had been hacked dreadfully short in the slave fashion.

     Beside her stood the other new Dryad. She was significantly taller, coming close to Vince’s own height. She was closer to Meliae in having an hourglass body, but her shoulders looked broader to him. Straight blonde hair hung short and ragged at the level of her ears.

     “Sweetling, this is Karya. She’s a walnut,” Meliae said, indicating the one with dark brown hair.

     Then she pointed to the blonde. “And Daphnaie,” Meliae said, uttering a name that sounded strange to his ear. “Who’s a laurel. She also goes by Daphne.”

     Definitely easier to pronounce.

     Vince nodded his head to the two women. Both of them eyed him speculatively, before looking back to Meliae.

     “See? A tree. Overflowing with power, even though my tree drinks all it can.”

     Daphne opened her mouth and pointed at his chest. “Your tree is entirely in his chest?” Her voice was eerily similar to Meliae’s in its musical quality, though deeper.

     “It started to spread, but then retracted. It was being overfed. Even now, it’s overfed.” Meliae said that with a touch of pride, and maybe a hint of fear.

     Karya moved before he realized and had her nose pressed to his chest. “He reeks of sex and power.”

     “Yes. Yes, he does,” Thera agreed from beside him. Eva nodded her head at the same time Thera spoke.

     “I’m glad we all agree on that,” Vince said, pressing his hands to Karya’s shoulders and eased her away.

     Getting her to move back a few steps, Vince looked to Meliae.

     “So?” he asked her. She was supposed to find out if they could move freely and if their trees would handle the journey.

     “I’m afraid not. Neither is carrying the seed of a man, though they both have a seed from their tree.”

     “I don’t—”

     “If they were pregnant, they could go further without their tree,” Meliae explained.

     “Ah,” Vince said.

     That makes an odd sort of sense.

     “Definitely explains why you were able to practically be an entire state away without a problem.”

     “Yes. Yes, it does,” Meliae said, ducking her head as her cheeks flushed.

     The other two Dryads, and the two Elves, all eyed Meliae.

     “So, what do you want to do?” Vince verbally prodded Meliae. She was his Dryad expert, after all.

     “Ah, about that. I… can they plant their trees in you?” Meliae asked, her eyes coming up to meet his own. They’d gone to a completely green color without a hint of iris or even whites.

     “I don’t understand. You want… me to be their tree, too? Is that even possible?” Vince asked slowly.

     Meliae nodded her head woodenly. Looking to Daphne and Karya, he found their eyes to be the same completely greened-out version of Meliae’s.

     “Would I suffer any ill effects or anything?” Vince asked to any of the three of them.

     All three shook their heads.

     This is going nowhere.

     “Meliae, if you explain this to me, and why you’re reacting like this, I’ll humiliate you in front of everyone here.”

     Meliae shuddered and lifted her hands to her face. “Sharing a tree with two other Dryads would shame me until the day I die. I could never look at another Dryad without them knowing. It’s unheard of.”

     Vince frowned and scratched at his jaw. He noticed that the Elves were quickly distributing clothes, rations, and instructions to everyone in the room.

     “In other words, all three of you would be shamed eternally for sharing a tree, which has knocked these two on their ass,” Vince said, pointing a thumb at the two wooden Dryads.

     “Yes, Sweetling. It’s… a bit easier for me since I’m carrying your seed.”

     “And they can’t travel otherwise?”

     “They won’t last a week. Their trees didn’t survive their uprooting; it’s taking a good portion of their power so they die slowly instead of immediately.”

     Vince grunted and pulled out his belt knife. Then he stripped off the tunic he’d worn into town.

     “Fine. I’m assuming I need to cut myself open again?” Vince resolved himself to this action. He couldn’t condemn them to die just because he didn’t want to be a traveling flowerpot.

     “Yes. Same spot, if possible. I can keep you from bleeding or feeling pain.”

     “This is until they plant their trees later,” Vince said, pushing the knife into his chest right on top of the same place from the previous incident.

     True to her word, he felt no pain. The knife parted his flesh smoothly and easily, the wound popping open into a gaping maw.

     It was eerie, staring into the same exact wound that had nearly taken his life.

     “They won’t be able to replant elsewhere. No seeds will grow inside you,” Meliae admitted.

     At the same time she said that, Karya pushed a walnut into his chest, while Daphne shoved a black seed in.

     “Meliae, what—”

     Meliae pressed her hand over the wound, and it closed itself in an instant. As she pulled her hand away, he looked down and found the flesh looked undamaged as ever.

     A single streak of blood was the only evidence he’d ever cut himself open.

     Both Thera and Eva kept their eyes moving, but their noses were twitching.

     Strange.

     Vince let his thoughts go back to Meliae and he growled at her.

     “I’m sorry, Sweetling. I couldn’t let them die. Not when we could all survive together.”

     “Goddammit, Meliae,” Vince huffed.

     “You’ll never even know. I promise. Only benefits. Pure benefits. Strongest tree ever,” Meliae said excitedly, her hands rubbing up and down his biceps.

     “So much,” Daphne muttered.

     “Too strong,” Karya said.

     A second later, both of them dropped to the ground as if someone had hit their power switch.

     “They’re okay. Only transferring their bond to their new tree. You’re much stronger now than when I planted in you,” Meliae said, waving a hand at the two unconscious women.

     Thera and Eva were there immediately. They were joined by two of their coworkers, who all worked together to carefully bring the Dryads to one side.

     “Thank you,” Vince murmured to the Elves.

     Then he closed his eyes and shook his head. He wasn’t cut out for this. He was a Ranger.

     “Can… can I get my reward tonight? Other than the other Dryads, I was very good. Reward me?” Meliae asked, her tongue sliding over her lips.

     Vince groaned into his hands and wanted the day to end.

     Chapter 22

     Vince had spent the following two days in the auction house of Sacramento, purchasing a vast array of Wasters.

     None were as unique or interesting as the first day. The next two days were little more than leftovers from other auctions nearby.

     He purchased those would fit in and not rock the boat and wanted a chance at a new life. Unfortunately, many were bitter, angry, and resentful. They’d murdered others or done worse in their hatred.

     While the ones he’d purchased wouldn’t be as useful as some, they’d be part of the labor force for his plan. That, and they’d be free.

     He’d take a happy Waster with no skills over a skilled individual with nothing but hate in their heart.

     Vince felt like he was losing himself as they journeyed south with over four hundred pairs of eyes watching him.

     What regret he’d had for taking Eva and Thera as concubines vanished as their families went to work with a single-minded determination.

     They’d increased their numbers as well. He doubted there were very many Elves left in the purchased population that weren’t included now.

     Not that he could complain about them only bringing in Elfin-kind. Everything was neat. Orderly. Planned.

     He found that when he felt like he was about to be overrun, Eva and Thera were there to pick up the slack with exactly what he needed.

     He’d decided to skip Modesto after he found out that it’d been stripped clean of slaves to purchase. They’d all been sent north for him to look over.

     Knight’s Ferry would be too hard to remain anonymous, so that was out.

     Which left him with Blanchard as the best place to spend money.

     Blanchard had originally been not much more than a stain on a map. Now it compared to Modesto or even Fresno in size and scope.

     All thanks to its slave trade.

     Vince looked at the truly massive building that served as the local auction for Blanchard. The sale would be starting in about an hour, and Vince was ready.

     He’d sent everyone east to begin settling into their new home.

     Everyone except Daphne, Karya, Thera, and Eva. The two Dryads were too weak to be separated from him yet. Thera and Eva simply wouldn’t listen to him when he told them to keep moving.

     “Lord, I believe everything is in order,” Thera said from his right.

     “Master, all is as it should be,” Eva concurred from his left.

     “You sure you two aren’t related?” Vince said to the two Elves. They were drastic opposites in skin tone, yet so very similar in every other way.

     Looking to Eva, she was the picture of a Wood Elf. Tousled brown hair, brown eyes, delicate features, exquisite looks, tanned skin, full lips, and an athletic body. She topped out at a paltry five foot two.

     Thera was similar in nearly every way to Thera. So much so that despite their skin tones, you couldn’t mistake them as anything other than the same species.

     She shared her “cousin’s” build exactly, though she had several inches on her in height. With dark eyes and long, dark hair the color of a raven’s wing, she was nearly like a shadow. Her pearl-gray skin only added to that impression.

     Both of them were dressed in a fashion that turned the head of everyone they crossed, though for very different reasons.

     Thera had donned a set of black painted brigandine armor. The metal plates were tight around her chest, but not prohibitively so. Her arms and legs were coated in hardened leather.

     Belted to her hip and slung low was a long sword, and a matching dagger on the other side.

     Eva, on the other hand, was dressed in dark brown leather armor, with a slim blade at her waist. On her back was a strung recurve bow.

     He doubted either was anything less than proficient in each weapon, though they clearly had their preferences.

     “Beyond a doubt, Master,” Eva assured him.

     Vince looked to the building again.

     He’d only managed to spend a hundred thousand standards so far. Most of that had been on supplies. Slaves were cheaper than he’d imagined.

     This would be the best spot to pick up more. Then he’d have to wait for them to replenish their stock, so to speak.

     Taking a deep breath, Vince put one foot in front of the other.

     “No time like the present.”

     He was greeted at the door by a clerk.

     “I’m sorry, sir, we don’t allo—”

     “Get your manager,” Vince said simply. Turning his back to the clerk, Vince walked over to a chair and sat down with a sigh. Thera and Eva flanked each side of the chair while Daphne and Karya took the chairs to each side of him.

     “I don—”

     “Get your manager,” Vince repeated, with a flick of his fingers.

     This time, both Thera and Eva turned their heads in unison to stare at the clerk.

     As the clerk hustled off down a corridor, Karya leaned in close to him.

     “Why do you act like that?”

     “Because that’s what they expect from someone with money. If I act the part, they’ll accept the part, then forget the part when we leave,” Vince explained

     “That sounds stupid,” Daphne replied. Of the three Dryads, she was very no-nonsense.

     “Yet here we are. And here’s the manager now. Good morning.”

     A slender man in his forties approached Vince as he finished speaking. He was as nondescript as anyone else and barely registered as average.

     “Good morning to you as well, sir. How may I assist you?”

     “I need a private booth. Here is a letter of recommendation from your offices in Sacramento, as well as several notes to act as collateral for the time being.” Vince reached into his vest and pulled out an envelope and handed it over.

     Inside was two hundred thousand standards in notes.

     The manager flipped it open and read over the letter the manager from Sacramento had written. Then he looked to the bank notes.

     Everything went back into the envelope and disappeared into the man’s coat. “I understand. Please, follow me this way, good sir. I believe we can take care of everything for you.”

     Vince nodded and then stood up. A walk and an elevator ride later and Vince sat himself down in a comfortable recliner overlooking a vast stage.

     “Will there be anything else at this time, sir?” the manager asked from the doorway.

     “No, but I’ll be in town for tomorrow. Will you be holding a sale then?” Vince asked without looking back.

     “Ah, I can arrange one. We don’t always hold them back to back, but it can be lucrative at times.”

     Vince only nodded his head.

     Thera ushered the manager out the door while Eva closed it, then locked it.

     Daphne took the chair to Vince’s right, Karya his left.

     “Do you really need more?” Daphne asked.

     “Yes, and yet no. I need people with skills. In particular, fighters with the right attitude, farmers, lots of those, teachers, and if we can manage it, some accountants.”

     “Farmers? Accountants?” Daphne asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.

     “Can’t run a city without someone counting the coins. We can’t afford to not be profitable. And that means being self-sufficient. Hence, farmers.”

     “Can I get you anything, Lord?” Thera asked.

     “No. If anything, take a break,” Vince said, looking to the Elves. Then he pointed to the side table where fresh fruits and pastries had been laid out. They looked fresh and as if they’d been carted in only a minute or two before they came in. “Get some food, relax.”

     “We couldn’t eat before the master.”

     “Eating isn’t done without our lord.”

     “I order you to eat, then. Please follow those orders,” Vince said. Turning back to the stage, he sighed.

     Daphne was there, her lips pressed to his ear. “They wish to please you.”

     Tilting his head away from Daphne, he eyed her. “I know. They’ll do that by listening.”

     Karya’s breath steamed over the skin of his neck, her lips brushing up against it briefly.

     In moving away from Daphne, he’d put himself quite a bit closer to Karya. Her fingers dug into his shoulders and pulled. “I want to please you too.”

     Standing up, Vince folded his arms across his chest.

     Meliae had told him that the two would be like this for a while. He’d have to wait it out till then.

     “I can’t wait to get home,” Vince muttered. “Thera, Eva, did the suppliers confirm their meeting times?”

     “Yes, Master,” Eva confirmed.

     “They did, Lord,” Thera agreed.

     “Great. After this, we can hit them up. If they can meet our needs, we’ll be done here. Long gone before the military paymasters realize we’ve robbed them blind.”

     Down below on the stage, an auctioneer swaggered up to the stage. Vince watched the heavyset woman as she settled into a chair behind the podium.

     “Master, will we truly be living in a forest?” the Wood Elf asked.

     Vince nodded his head. “That we will. There’s a large cave system nearby—quite mountainous, to boot—a wide river, and a few smaller streams. It’s more than what we need for our people.”

     “I’m glad to hear of this, Lord. Will the manor fit the entire household?”

     He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Not at all. We’ll have to build separate housing units.”

     “Unacceptable, Master. We’ll make arrangements.”

     “Not possible, Lord. Leave it to us.”

     Vince pressed his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose. “For concubines, you really don’t listen.”

     “No,” they said in unison.

     “First up on auction, by special request of our manager, is a lot sale.”

     Vince raised his eyebrows. Apparently that letter he’d handed over had conveyed more than the text of it had let on. He’d been polite enough to not break the seal and read the letter himself.

     “This is more of an assortment than by type,” continued the woman. To one side, several men pushed a large tank of water onto the stage. “Inside are four Nereids, nine Nixies, and at least two water elementals. Forgive us the improper count. It’s hard to distinguish them from the water at times. The elementals, of course, cannot be collared, but the rest are already taken care of.”

     “Daphne, Karya, Nereids would be cousins of yours, yes? Would they listen to you if they needed encouragement?” Vince asked.

     He could use them. They could help maintain the river and keep it healthy.

     “Yes. Much in the same way Thera and Eva are cousins. They breed with any other humanoid race, just as we do. Nixies can be male or female. I do believe they’d listen to us, though, yes,” Karya said.

     “Let’s start the opening bid at one hundred standards,” declared the auctioneer.

     Vince pressed the small button set into the recliner that indicated he would bid.

     “I have one hundred, do I have one ten? Please keep in mind you’re responsible for transport. The tank is of course yours.

     “I have one ten, do I—”

     Vince pressed the button.

     “I have one twenty, do I have one thirty?

     “I have one thirty, do I—”

     Using his thumb, Vince pushed the button again. Then two more times.

     “I… I have one sixty.”

     Vince pressed the button another time.

     “Make that one seventy.”

     As if to demonstrate the point, Vince then pushed the button three more times.

     “I… I now have two hundred from the same person,” said the woman. She looked flustered at Vince’s heavy-handed tactics.

     “Master, do you need them that badly?”

     “Is the river in that bad of a condition, Lord?”

     For a brief second, Vince wondered if they were doing that on purpose. Dismissing it, he realized it didn’t matter if they were or weren’t.

     They got the job done rather well, and Vince would rather measure throughput.

     “No, no, the river is fine. But I want it to remain fine. Those will do the work that hundreds couldn’t do on land. Between them, and the Dryads, we should have the entire ecosystem on track.

     “I’d rather not stand out, but that should shut down whoever else it was.”

     “Sold to private booth number forty-two for two hundred standards.”

     Vince took his seat again and slunk down into it. He didn’t enjoy this, and the only thing that kept him positive about the whole thing was the end goal.

     It wasn’t until the end of the auction that Vince found something to catch his interest.

     Up to this point, it had required little more than a cursory inspection to determine if they were mentally prepared for what he wanted. If they met his requirements, he bought them. Most were merely laborers, or unskilled.

     What took the stage was an old Centaur, gray of hair and with a weathered face. This ancient Centaur was well beyond its prime.

     It was the mind behind those eyes that had brought Vince from his stupor. It was a mind filled with thoughts and an education. One who had taught generations for innumerable years.

     “Our final item for sale is a household auction. Per an agreement with the previous owner, we’re selling them as a group.”

     A group of fourteen or fifteen fair-haired Wasters surrounded the Centaur. Vince wasn’t interested in them, but he figured he’d have to purchase them all to get the Centaur.

     “Not them, Master,” Eva said, stepping up to the window.

     “Definitely not those, Lord,” Thera said, stepping up beside Eva.

     “What? Why?” Vince asked as the auctioneer continued. Vince took a closer look at those surrounding the Centaur.

     “High Elves,” Daphne said simply.

     They were indeed High Elves. Where Eva was tanned, and Thera grayer skinned, these were all pale. Pale to the point of being like snow. The blue eyes that peered out from their ragged haircuts were a stark contrast.

     They were also rather tall, from what he could tell from here. Otherwise, they shared all the same features as Thera and Eva. Beautiful, ethereal, sharp-eared, and graceful-looking.

     Now after having seen three races of them, he could tell that the Dark Elves were more muscular, the Wood Elves shorter of stature and more graceful, and the High Elves were far taller.

     “Do I have an opening bid of a hundred standards?”

     “And? You two are traditionally enemies to the death, and yet I see your families working hand in hand daily.” Vince pressed the button to signal a bid on his part.

     “Yes, Lord. We do, and are, but that’s…” Thera trailed off, looking to Eva.

     “Master, High Elves are the reason Elfin-kind is here on your world. They’re no good. Thera’s family and my own are not foolish enough to ruin a good thing, so we combined our families.”

     Vince listened to them, but didn’t really care. In a heartbeat, he’d combed through the High Elves’ minds and found all the same emotions Thera and Eva’s had experienced.

     No, they were no different.

     “—standards. Do I have three hundred?” called the auctioneer.

     “And? Last I heard, Dark Elves ate human children, and Wood Elves would castrate men they found in the woods.

     “Both of those actions only cemented the early relationship between humanity and the Wastes. Should I blame you for your ancestors’ actions? I doubt these High Elves here had any hand in the event.” Vince triggered another bid on his part.

     Three hundred is cheap for the Centaur.

     Karya and Daphne exchanged a look but said nothing. Vince wondered what that was about, but didn’t inquire.

     Both Thera and Eva were silent at that. Mostly because he was right. Early encounters between Humans and Elves had not gone over very well.

     “We will… strive to be as openminded as you are, Lord,” Thera said with a sigh.

     “Master, we’ll not fail your confidence.”

     “Good. Make sure you pick out the right person for me—” Vince paused and focused on the auction again. Someone had once again outbid him.

     “I wonder what a High Elf, Wood Elf, Dark Elf family can accomplish,” Vince said under his breath.

     Pressing the button twice rapidly, he raised his bid to six hundred standards.

     Thera and Eva nodded their heads, saying nothing more.

     “Sold, once again to forty-two. That concludes our auction for the day. I hope to see you all return tomorrow for our back-to-back special two-day sale.”

     “Good. Thera, Eva, go round them up like last time. I’ll take care of the bill and meet you in the back with the wagons,” Vince said.

     The Elves bowed in unison to him and left.

     “We’re alone,” Daphne stated the obvious. Karya nodded her head sharply at that.

     “And we’re leaving.” Vince opened the door and left the booth before the two Dryads could work their magic.

     Vince sent a clerk scurrying to find the manager with the simple message that he’d be back tomorrow. Hopefully the manager would have everything taken care of without Vince’s name being written down on a single piece of paper. Another clerk directed him to a back office where his purchases were being given back their clothes and the paperwork was being taken care of. It was a small office overlooking a warehouse floor.

     But it was in plain view of anyone who might look up here, which suited Vince perfectly right now. He hoped it would keep Daphne and Karya on their best behavior.

     “Hiding is pointless,” Daphne said, annoyance discernible on her face.

     “As is running,” Karya added.

     “Too bad. I already have a Dryad who hits me with her sex magic. Don’t need all three of you hitting me with mystic mojo,” Vince complained, sitting on the desk.

     Daphne glared at him from under her brows while Karya smiled impishly at him.

     A young man popped his head in quickly, handed Vince a letter, and bolted out the door.

     “Wait! For fuck’s sake. It’d be nice if they waited for a minute,” Vince complained. Flipping over the paper, he broke the seal and pulled out the letter inside.

     He read it over once and then read it again more slowly.

     “You’re afraid,” Karya said slowly. “And angry.”

     Vince glanced up at the Dryad and nodded his head. “A problem is coming back to haunt me, apparently. A friend of mine is in town. A blacksmith and his wife. They were chased out of the village they live in. In addition to that, it seems the village itself is becoming a mob. They want to head east and burn my house down.”

     “Why?” Daphne asked, a confused look on their face.

     “If I had to guess, it’s because I bought slaves, then killed a number of bandits who attacked me. Seems the bandits were more friendly with the town than I thought. And that they told someone they were going to rob me.”

     Vince crumpled the letter in his hand.

     Thera and Eva entered the office at that moment, escorting a young High Elf woman. Her pale blonde hair was shorn in the slave fashion, of course. Bright blue eyes stared straight into him. Unwavering.

     Her face was as beautiful as Thera’s and Eva’s, all three of them sharing that strange alien beauty of the Elves.

     His two concubine bodyguards had managed to get the High Elf into a long-sleeved, silky-looking pale blue dress. It hugged her from her shoulders to her hips in an intoxicating way without showing an inch of skin.

     “Master, this is Elysia.” Eva gestured to the High Elf.

     “We believe her suitable, Lord.” Thera had the look of someone who’d been forced to do something, but wasn’t upset with the outcome.

     “Elysia. I assume you’re the one selected for your family?” Vince asked her.

     “That remains to be seen, my liege.” Her voice was clinical. “I lack critical experience for the role. I do believe my unique skills will make up for that, however.”

     “Oh?” Vince asked curiously. Hopefully. “Can you show me one of those skills?”

     Elysia pointed at the paper in his hand. “Do you need that?”

     Vince shook his head and held it out to her. “Was in the middle throwing it away, actually.”

     The High Elf narrowed her eyes at the paper. A second later and it burst into a sky-blue flame.

     Vince held on to the paper until it licked his fingers. Interestingly to him, there was only the barest twinge of heat on his fingers.

     Vince found himself smiling as the flame guttered around his thumb and forefinger and then went out.

     “I’m well versed at magic, my liege. As High Elves usually are, I’m the most proficient at combat magic. There was some thought to training me as a gladiator.”

     Containing his excitement was tough, considering the circumstances. He remembered distinctly what Seville’s Elf had done, and she had been a Wood Elf, if he remembered it right.

     “Impressive. Consider yourself chosen. You can show me everything else later.”

     “Of course, my liege. I live to serve as your concubine. I have no experience in the affairs of the bedroom, but hope you will treat me kindly,” Elysia said, a small smile curling her lips before she dropped down and prostrated herself to him.

     Chapter 23

     The second day of the auction never occurred. The military brass swooped in and purchased everyone. They’d be joining an army that had been brought up from the old Mexican border that no longer existed.

     Of course, the manager apologized profusely while saying “business is business.” Vince had no doubt the manager had been paid grossly for his part.

     That meant time was up. There would be no further sales until the military decided to stop buying everyone.

     In the north, Washington had broken through the lines even further, an entire mounted division slashing their way through the lines and disappearing.

     Here at home, the letter he’d received from Deskil was already out of date. It wasn’t Knight’s Ferry who was turning into a mob, but Knight’s Ferry and all of the surrounding towns and villages.

     Stories flooded the streets of the evil man who lived in the woods with his slaves, carving up poor human travelers for their body parts.

     It was the fact that he cavorted with Wasters that truly sparked the masses, though. He dared to treat them as humans. Feed them and clothe them equally.

     Mainly an Orc and a Dryad, or so the stories went.

     The name was never right, and they simply called him the Woodsman in the east.

     Vince felt a growing anxiety gnawing at his mind. He hadn’t gotten what he wanted. He’d never found his accountant, or his farmers. He was also woefully undermanned for actual combatants.

     Maybe less than one hundred and fifty would be useful in a fight.

     The rest would only be good for dying, unless he got them trained up. Time wasn’t on his side for that option, though.

     Train, or build. Not both.

     “Train or build…” Vince mused aloud. Drumming his fingers along his father’s desk, he looked down at the paperwork he’d put together.

     He hadn’t expected to have to choose. Maybe naively he’d believed he’d have time to build up and then train.

     In the end, he still had damn near half a million standards. There simply hadn’t been enough time or people. It had cost more to buy the supplies to get them through until they could be self-sufficient than it had to get the people.

     At least he’d managed to secure everything they’d need. Tools, food, daily life things.

     Closing the ledger, he leaned back and stretched his arms above his head.

     They’d gotten in late last night. A peck on the cheek and a hug was about all he’d been good for when he had collapsed into the bed with Fes.

     Looking out the window, he saw the early-morning gloom clearing up, and sunlight breaking through.

     Time to start to the day and get everyone moving. First were the collars.

     Picking up the metal stamp and the battery, he meandered out of his office.

     Thera materialized out of the shadows as he closed the door behind him.

     Nodding his head to the Dark Elf, he moved to the front door and popped it open. Elysia and Eva stood up from the deck chairs on the porch.

     The High Elf had found a staff at some point during the night. To his eyes, it even had a subtle shimmer to it.

     “Going to be popping collars today, and giving out orders. Might be best to get whoever is best with infrastructure work out here,” Vince said, walking over to a deck chair and its accompanying table.

     Elysia, the ever-clinical robot of the three, gave him a blazing smile and was off at a jog.

     “Such an eager beaver today,” Vince murmured, setting down the stamp on the table.

     “Master, our family is still adjusting to our new brothers and sisters. She is… excited to be in so large a family clan.”

     “Yes, Lord. Though we resented it at first, we’ve found we are much more able already.”

     “I imagine. That’s kinda the thing with evolution, isn’t it? You each develop traits best suited for your environment. Put it all back together and you’ve got a better product, the sum of the whole being greater than its individual parts.”

     Vince held up the battery with a shit-eating grin. “Who wants to go first? You’re about to watch three Dryads get hit by a lightning bolt.”

     Thera and Eva eyed him speculatively. Thera stepped forward and put herself in front of him. “As the oldest, I’ll submit first. Give me your commands.”

     She held herself ramrod straight and burned him with her eyes, her hands proffering her collar to him.

     “Okay? Hold tight to your collar, and when you feel tired, winded, and like everything is on fire, pull as hard and fast as you can. It’ll be obvious.”

     Before she could question the command, Vince tapped the battery to the collar and activated it.

     Thera’s hands moved and the collar came undone, hanging loosely in her hands.

     “There we are,” Vince said with a smile. Taking the collar from her nerveless fingers, he set it down on the table. “Time to make your choice, Thera. Remain here and build with me, or leave here, and live your own life.”

     Thera blinked twice, her dark eyes moving from him to the collar.

     “You think on that. Let’s wake up the Dryads.” Sticking the battery to his forearm, he discharged it.

     From inside the house, he heard a yelp and what sounded as if someone had fallen out of bed and hit the floor.

     “Ha. That’s what you get. Tease me the entire trip, eh?” Vince said viciously. “Alright, come over here, Eva. Let’s get you taken care of while Thera thinks.”

     “Master, I—”

     “Stop, come here, grab your collar, and hold it up. Same instructions,” Vince said commandingly. Eva went silent, obeying his orders as she had to. She held up the collar.

     Touching the battery to it, he activated it.

     Eva lost her grip on the collar as soon as it came free. It clattered to the ground as the Wood Elf stood there panting.

     “You alright, Eva?” Vince asked her, turning the battery on his forearm and discharging it again.

     He vaguely felt the tree in his chest shifting, but only a touch. The real difference was what felt like two other trees. Both in his abdomen, but one reaching into his arms, and the other his legs.

     This time there were no shrieks, but he definitely heard another thud.

     “Ha,” Vince gloated. Elysia came back at a swift pace. He noticed she’d taken the time to modify her dress for mobility rather than looks. It no longer reached her feet, but stopped an inch above her ankles.

     “Perfect timing. Come here, Elysia.” Vince pointed at the place to his side. Thera and Eva were still on his other side. “Yep, stand right there. Now grab your collar tight and hold it up. Good. You’re going to suddenly feel tired and like you’re on fire. I need you pull at your collar as hard as you can when it happens.”

     “Wait—” Thera said breathlessly.

     Vince pressed the battery to the collar and hit the switch. Elysia looked startled as the collar came off with a crack. Her face was flushed and she was taking slow, deep breaths.

     Turning the battery on himself, Vince chuckled evilly, then activated it again.

     Something slammed into the door, followed by a yelp, then a curse.

     “Vince, stop. We need a break between,” Meliae called through the door.

     “You’re in luck, then. Next up is Karya and Daphne.” Vince couldn’t stop from smiling and took a seat in one of the deck chairs.

     “Elysia, I’m afraid you’ll need to make a choice now. The same one Thera and Eva are thinking on. Do you remain here and help me build, or leave and go elsewhere?”

     Setting the battery down on the table, he eased comfortably into the chair. He’d spent countless evenings simply watching the woods around his home in this chair.

     “Keep in mind I’ll be freeing everyone from their collars. So everyone will be given the choice. If you want to discuss it with your family, I understand. If you remain, we’ll need to put the collar back on, but it’ll be depowered. No one will be able to give you commands.

     “You three can discuss it elsewhere if you like. I’d understand,” Vince said, looking up at the three Elves.

     Thera, Eva, and Elysia looked at one another.

     The door opened and out came the three Dryads. All three looked like they’d dressed in a hurry. Normally they spent a decent amount of time to dress when given the chance.

     Meliae was in front, walking slowly but determinedly to him. Daphne and Karya were hanging off each other and shuffling their feet forward.

     “Aww, you poor ducklings. All torn up after three? We still have hundreds to do. Maybe you should take seats,” Vince said with a feral grin.

     “You wouldn’t,” Meliae said, her eyes a full, shimmering green.

     “Oh, but I would, and will. You’re going to like it. You’re going to say thank you after every single one. Then you’re going to ask for more, for another one. All sweet like, ‘Please, may I have another?’ And when we’re all done and I’ve stuffed the three of you with as much as I can… well, then I’m going to personally destroy you in our bed, Meliae, while you two watch. In fact, I might even invite the Elves here to watch.

     “Consider it payback. Now say thank you for the first three.”

     All three Dryads were watching him with three pairs of eyes that were green through and through.

     “Thank you,” they said in unison. “Please, may I have another?”

     “Of course, of course. Please, have a seat. The Elf family should be coming soon. We’ll be popping their collars next.”

     The Dryads dropped into the empty chairs, their wide green eyes fastened to him.

     Thera stepped in front of Vince and looked down at him. Her collar was held in front of her between her hands.

     “I pledged myself as your concubine. I will abide by that pledge. Please re-collar me. My family will agree with my decision and remain as well,” said the Dark Elf, holding out the collar to him.

     Eva and Elysia both stepped up beside their “sister” and held out their collars.

     “I understand. Glad to have you officially on board. As to your collar, merely put it back on. It’ll simply be a piece of jewelry from here on out.

     “Besides, it’s not like much has changed. You had no orders or commands from me to begin with.

     “Ah, and here’s your family now. Let’s get started; this’ll take me a while. As we go, I’ll start dispensing orders. Please make sure they’re carried out. Whoever has the best head for writing and memory should get a ledger.” Vince stood up and laid a hand on Thera’s shoulder.

     Her head bobbed up and down as she reattached her unpowered collar. Eva and Elysia following suit.

     “Lord.”

     “Master.”

     “My liege.”

     Vince waved them off and started in on their rather large family.

     Elysia’s handwriting was meticulous. Flowing evenly and precisely through each line of her ledger, she copied the names of slaves and the jobs Vince assigned. She added her own notes and had divided sections in her ledger for various things.

     Vince wasn’t quite interested in this tedium and was more than happy she’d taken it upon herself to do all the work.

     The front door to his home opened and Fes walked out, Petra close behind her. Whatever discussion they were having immediately stopped on seeing him.

     Fes looked to the Dryads, who were nearly comatose in their chairs, then to the Elves cloistered around him.

     “Husband, did you claim the other two Dryads?” Fes asked, a green hand indicating the corpse-like Dryads.

     “No. They’re drunk on power. They’ll be fine by tomorrow.”

     Fes’s mouth turned into a grimace. “Why not? They—no. You’ll do what you do in your own time. You’re like the boulder atop a hill. I can shove you, but unless you’re ready to move, you won’t budge.”

     Vince snorted at that and then waved a Dwarf in. “You want me to claim more wives?” he asked, picking up the battery.

     “Yes. As your Fes, the more power you have, the more power I have. We need much more power. You will conquer all.

     “We will return later. Going to go train and spar.”

     “This one—” Petra started.

     “We train,” Fes said firmly.

     Petra glared at the Orc but relented when she realized Vince was watching the exchange.

     “Hold on tightly to your collar, and pull when you feel tired,” Vince said. He felt as if he’d turned into a machine. Activating the battery, the Dwarf wasted no time in pulling off the collar.

     Then put it back on immediately and turned to Elysia to give her his name.

     Tuning them out for a moment, Vince felt his lips turn up into a foul grin and looked to the Dryads.

     They watched him with the barest signs of life. Their eyes glowing green and glittering.

     They waited. Knowing what was to happen. As his thumb moved up to the stud, he could feel their trees inside him quiver in dreaded eager anticipation.

     Thumbing the stud, the battery discharged into his arm.

     Each Dryad locked up, their teeth bared, toes curling, fingers clenching into the arms of the chairs as they stiffened up. Then they relaxed just as suddenly as the power filled their trees.

     “Thank you. Please, may I have another?” the Dryads woodenly murmured in chorus. They’d gotten much better about saying it together by the tenth discharge.

     Karya started panting audibly, her mouth hanging open. Daphne had the look of a woman so drunk she no longer knew if she lived.

     Meliae was the only one who had enough awareness to take a sip of the water he had put out for each of them. Looking to her left and right, she helped her Dryad sisters each get a drink as well.

     “Of course I’ll give you another,” Vince said, and turned to Fes. “I’m punishing them. They actually love it. Part of that ‘destroy me’ Dryad thing. Trust me on that one. But you’re sparring in the woods? Don’t get lost, or I’ll have to come find you. All kidding aside, I don’t want to worry over you, Fes Berenga.”

     Fes gave him a wide smile, her tusks becoming evident. “You’re enjoying yourself a bit too much, I think, with those poor Dryads. As to the woods, yes, husband. I will listen.”

     “Course I am. They tease and mock. Rile me up. They want this, and they know I’ll eventually lash out if they keep it up. Admittedly, I’m being trained and they’re being trained, but that’s the way it goes.

     “I don’t think they expected this, though. Heh.”

     Vince looked to Petra, who had been staring at him. “Petra.”

     “This one awaits orders, Master.”

     “Be safe. Come home alive.”

     “This one will do as her master instructs.”

     Vince nodded and turned back to the Dwarf he’d collar-popped. “Stone or metal?”

     “Stone,” came the gravelly response.

     “Rock quarry or the wall, Elysia?”

     Vince stood bolt upright as the shock of Fes’s firm hand slapping him on the ass caught him unaware. Then she stepped off the decking and set off for the woods.

     Petra lingered for a moment, her eyes moving from him to Fes and back. Then the ant soldier darted in and kissed him hungrily. Before he could respond, she scuttled off the deck to catch up with Fes.

     The Dwarf stumped off to whatever work assignment Elysia had given him.

     “Where are we at, then?”

     “The quarry needs more hands right now, my liege. That’s because the early reports from the wall are that they’re going through the bricks faster than we’re making them.”

     Vince leaned over Elysia’s shoulder and looked at the figures she was pointing to. It was a summary with every work type listed and current count in tallies.

     “Blacksmiths are short in supply. More so than the quarry, even. Can’t help what their background is.”

     “No, my liege.”

     Vince laid his left hand on her shoulder and began tracing the entries with his right hand.

     Lumberjacks, all the Beavers. Of course.

     Wall defense, Trolls and Ogres.

     Siege weaponry, Gnomes.

     Library, Centaur, couple Elves.

     Scouts, whole lot of Ratfolk, Brownies, and Pixies.

     He’d bought those by the dozen in Blanchard.

     Front line warriors, Bearmen, Wolfmen, Orcs, Kobolds, Gnolls, and… Vince didn’t bother to read the rest, as there were too many.

     River defenses and upkeep, Nereid, Nixies, Water Elementals.

     Farming, handful of Halflings. Not nearly enough.

     Carpentry…

     Vince couldn’t make heads or tails of it. They were spread across all the races. They had quite a number of them, though, thankfully.

     Miscellaneous, Goblins.

     He still didn’t understand that one. Elysia had asked him to trust her, so he did. Didn’t mean he understood it.

     “What do we really need right now?” Vince asked to himself.

     “My liege,” Elysia said, turning her head. She seemed unperturbed by the fact that they were inches from each other.

     Vince realized at that point he was practically hanging on the poor woman. “We need weapons, traps, and fortifications. Once the Beavermen finish clearing the immediate area and approaches, we should have them begin working on a wooden stake wall facing out, opposite to the side we have our wall going up.”

     Vince nodded and leaned away from Elysia.

     “Oi, there you are, Vinny,” called a Dwarven voice. Looking up, Vince saw Deskil stomping up the deck. He marched right up to Vince.

     “Ha, Deskil. Good to see you. Didn’t expect to see you here, though,” Vince said, holding out a hand to the Dwarven blacksmith. Looking over Deskil’s shoulder, he saw Minnie approaching, too.

     “Minnie, a pleasure as always.” Deskil took Vince’s hand and shook it firmly. “What do I owe the pleasure to?”

     “I’m afraid I’ve come calling, cap in hand, Vinny. I’ve lost my forge, my tools, and my home. I can work. I’ll work hard. Just give me—”

     “Done. We have precious few metalworkers. They’re over there right now.” Vince indicated to the large roped-off area in the distance. Visible even from here were the crates stacked one on top of the other. “We’ve got all the tools, equipment, and ore for a team of blacksmiths. I don’t know the exact counts of everything, but there should be an Elf over there who has all the details.

     “As for pay, well, that’s the rub. We’re more of a commune at this point than a city. Everyone here is working for our mutual benefit with one goal. I can guarantee you a home for free. Eventually. And more than you could eat or drink right now.”

     “Vinny, were you the bastard who bought out several months’ worth of ore in Sacramento and then again in Blanchard? Damn near ran the entire guild under for a month till they found another supplier?” Deskil asked, his bearded face splitting in a wide grin.

     “That’d be me. So, up for the job? Also, is your collar depowered? No powered collars allowed here.”

     “Aye, and aye. We’ll catch up later, Vinny. Work to do,” Deskil said, rolling up his sleeves. The Dwarf trundled off at a walk, and soon was off at a run.

     Minnie walked up to Vince and then hugged him. “Thank you, Vince. We… weren’t really sure what to do.”

     “Of course. My pleasure. Though I’m surprised you found us. Was it that easy to follow the trail?” Vince asked her. He knew they’d left a pretty easy trail with all those wagons and supplies.

     “Very. Deskil tracked you, if you can believe it.” The woman pulled back and glanced over at her husband, who looked to be sprinting towards the blacksmith’s area.

     Minnie sobbed once and then started to laugh as she rubbed at her eyes. “They took everything. Claimed I was a Waster-lover. We got out while they were trying to find the safe.

     “We could see the fire even as we left. They burnt it all down. He looked shattered. Lost.”

     Minnie laughed harder now and rubbed at her nose. “Now the stupid fool is running faster than I’ve ever seen. How much ore did you buy?”

     “Something like eighty thousand standards’ worth? Round there.”

     Minnie shook her head, sniffling. “Thank you and curse you at the same time, then. I won’t be able to pull him out of there for weeks. He’ll look at this as a blessing for the simple fact that he can make whatever he feels like without a care for me nagging him about the cost of ore for his pet projects.”

     She ran the books?

     “Well, what will you have me do, then? I’ll be needing a job as well.”

     “You any good at accounting?”

     Minnie smiled warmly at that. “I am. Though it sounds like you need a professional, and I’m—”

     “Better than me. So, congratulations. You’re the accountant. For now, go get some sleep. A meal. We’ll tackle the ledgers tomorrow night.

     “For now, all I can offer is a patch of grass. Warehouse has plenty of beds and blankets. Weather should be good this week, according to Meliae, but we should have several dormitories put up by the end of the week. Once everyone is under a roof, we’ll start working on homes.”

     Minnie let out a slow breath and nodded her head. “I’m sure you know that they’re talking about you in nearly every town. And what to do about you.”

     Vince agreed with a nod of his head.

     “I’m betting they’ll be coming to pay us a visit eventually. We’ll be ready.”

     Vince looked up to the next person in line, and waved them on.

     Chapter 24

     Vince closed the door to his manor with a soft click. It’d been two weeks since he’d broken everyone’s collar.

     Not one single person had left after being given their choice. They all remained. Which left him with something like six hundred and fifty pairs of hands to work with.

     And work those hands did.

     The forest clearing had gone impressively. The Dryads had worked quickly to get all the spirits out of the area they needed to clear and moved into other trees or given a promised residence over a home.

     With no resistance and trees that seemed eager to fall, the Beavermen had cleared more than enough of an area for a large city, including the surrounding approachable areas. Many trees had been left alone if they had a locational significance, or held a truly obstinate spirit, which gave the whole thing a forested feeling, without being a forest.

     Goblins had run rampant over everything, picking it clean of debris, rocks, and anything else that could impede building or farming. All for the simple fact that Vince had asked them specifically. Because it was a task no one else could do as quickly as they could.

     Halflings had taken over the farm work from there. Vast tracks of farmland were already being cultivated.

     His contingent of carpenters had descended on all that readily available wood and thrown up dormitories. Faster than any human carpenter he’d seen, that’s for sure. Half of them had then started in on the workshops and factories, while the remaining half began on actual housing.

     Vince had originally been concerned about that aspect of the project. It sounded like his carpenters wanted to build each house to specifications. Then he realized that with so many different races, they had to.

     More surprising was how quickly the camp had sprouted up families and pairings. The number of houses they’d need dropped a few every day as more and more of his people got married or joined families.

     Nodding at a passing Hobgoblin who gave him a gap-toothed grin, Vince set off for the walls. He didn’t want to panic anyone, but the walls needed to be up. Soon.

     Eva, Thera, and Elysia glided into place around him before he’d made it ten steps.

     None of them had changed their duties after he’d freed them, despite him telling them to stop.

     They’d even gone ahead and coaxed some of the carpenters to work on his manor. Which would now be fit to call a mansion, since it had rapidly been expanded to three times its original size. Taller than he wanted, and bigger than he needed, he felt lost in it at times.

     At least someone had the presence of mind to take all my existing rooms and move them item by item. Converting the new rooms into duplicates of the old, just with new walls and elsewhere in the house.

     He imagined it was probably painstaking work, moving a room item by item.

     Probably Elysia.

     Even his messy and horribly cluttered trophy room, which had been raided the next day by Deskil when he’d heard about it.

     “Inspecting the wall, my liege?” Elysia asked, taking the position just behind him and to the left.

     “Yeah. Why? Is my attention drawing attention?” Vince asked.

     Thera nodded her head from directly on his right and a step ahead.

     On his left at his side was Eva. “Yes, Master. You are.”

     “Damn.” Vince stopped dead in his tracks and slipped one hand into another. His Elven trio circled up in front of him, facing him. “Well, how are they doing?”

     “Very good, Master.”

     “Yes, Lord. Completion isn’t far off.”

     “Perhaps even next week, my liege.”

     Vince looked from one Elf to the next. “Alright. What does need to be inspected, then? Anything?”

     Thera’s brow furrowed and she looked to Elysia at the same time Eva did.

     “My liege, I would suggest that you relax today. Perhaps look to your own inner circle. Maybe train,” said the High Elf neutrally.

     Okay, so there’s a problem and they’re being cautious.

     “One of you can explain that statement to me.” Vince lifted a finger and waved it between the three of them.

     Elysia looked pained and wouldn’t meet his eyes.

     Eva sighed and pressed a hand to her brow. “Master, Petra and Fes fight. Every day.”

     Thera closed her eyes and bowed her head. “It’s true, Lord. The only discontent is in your own home.”

     Vince grunted and looked to one side. “Got it. I’ll take care of it.”

     The problem here was that Fes was acting within her rights as Fes to dictate Petra’s actions to a certain degree. Petra, having not actually been beaten, or beaten Fes, didn’t respect the situation. Her chain of command was fuzzy.

     Fes, on the other hand, needed a strong hand guiding her in the same way. While her issue wasn’t one of chain of command, it was of leadership through trial of arms.

     It wasn’t his way, but if he wanted to keep Fes happy, and in turn Petra, this was his answer.

     “Thera,” Vince said, turning his head to the Dark Elf.

     The Dark Elf’s shoulders straightened, her head snapping up.

     “Get the Dryads. I’d like to meet them in the training field behind the manor.

     “Elysia, could you please fetch Petra and Fes?

     “Eva, I need training weapons for anything that could come up.

     “I’ll meet you out behind the house. Promise.”

     The Elves regarded him suspiciously. There’d been times where he’d tried to send them off on errands so he could be alone. At once, they decided without speaking that the requests were legitimate and moved off to their appointed tasks.

     Vince was annoyed. He’d known there was a problem but had deliberately ignored it. Ignored it to the point that his Elven council had to tell him that it was no longer a private problem.

     Heading back to the manor, he went through it to the back to the fenced-in private back yard. It wasn’t something he’d asked for, and no one told him who’d done it, but he was suddenly grateful for whoever had requested it.

     In the center of what once was an empty field of grass and trees was now a cleared circle of dirt with a wooden lip encircling it. Walking to the center of that, Vince started going through warmup stretches.

     He was sure he didn’t need to, never had, but he always felt better in doing it.

     As he worked his waist muscles into what he hoped was a more limber state, the Dryads and Thera walked over to him.

     “Ah, good. Meliae, can we talk for a minute?” He smiled at the Dryad in question and motioned at her as he walked to one edge of the ring.

     Meliae grinned at him and bounced her way over to him. “What can I do for you, Sweetling?”

     Vince decided to dive right in. “I get the impression you’re rather good at fertility and sex magic. Is that you personally, or you as a Dryad?”

     Meliae blushed deeply at that and nodded at him. “In general, Dryads have an affinity. Mine is… yes, it’s fertility and sex. Daphne is better at direct intervention with flora. Combat, you could say. Karya is very in tune with the land and animals. People.”

     “Good. Can you keep me… er… can you make it so I can perform repeatedly? One after the other? Three times, preferably.”

     “Easily. Any of us could do that,” purred the Dryad, her eyes starting to green over. Her hands gripped her staff and wrung it back and forth.

     “Good, hang on to that until later.” Vince had to hurry it along since Fes, Petra, and Elysia were arriving. Right behind them was Eva with an armful of practice weapons.

     Vince worked to school his face into neutrality. Once he’d done that, he moved to intercept Fes and Petra.

     Both of them watched his approach warily. Gesturing to Eva, he indicated the grass at the edge of the ring. “Right there is great, Eva. Thank you. Elysia, Thera, thank you as well for getting this put together so quickly.”

     The Elves nodded their heads, smiles flashing and disappearing quickly.

     Vince turned to face Fes, then Petra, giving them both a hard look.

     “New rules. I’m tired of the bickering and the infighting. That ends today.

     “Title of Fes is only able to be challenged for once every thirty days. Current Fes dictates a date within three days of the challenge. Thirty days counts from the initial challenge date.

     “Winner is Fes and will be respected and regarded as Fes. I’ll personally fight the Fes three days after each challenge to maintain proper etiquette.

     “To start this correctly, I’ll now fight each one of you.”

     Vince walked over to the pile of training weapons and picked up a wooden saber, then walked to the center of the ring.

     “You may determine your order. Please be swift.”

     Before anyone could argue, Meliae leaped into the ring and lifted her staff, pointing it at him.

     Vince grinned at the spunky Dryad. Holding out his training saber, he waited.

     Faster than he expected, her staff thrust out at his head.

     Taking a single step to the side, he couldn’t help but laugh.

     All that plant food!

     “Meliae! My chipper little Dryad wife, I’m surprised. That was well done. Are you ready, though?”

     Her eyes were greening over again, her lips fighting a smile. “Give it to me, Sweetling. Hard and fast.”

     Acting counter to her request, her staff spun out low towards the back of his feet. It was even faster than her thrust.

     In the middle of his chest, he could feel the burning ache again. That strange sensation he’d felt back in the river. This time, he couldn’t claim it was exhaustion. This was different.

     It was coming all throughout him now, though. A little weaker than the feeling in his chest, but there.

     Begging to be used. To be forced to do his bidding. Be given direction and made to do so.

     Shaking off that feeling, he focused on Meliae.

     Vince dodged back and then launched forward, his training sword whipping around with as much speed as he could put into it.

     The flat of the blade slapped into the front of Meliae’s shoulders and sent her tumbling into the dirt.

     The busty Dryad lay on her back, breathing heavily. “Ow…”

     Walking over, Vince offered her a hand up and a lopsided smile. “Much improved since previously, my little warrior Dryad.”

     She gave him a goofy grin and got to her feet. Walking off to the side, she slumped into the grass.

     “Next.”

     Daphne and Karya looked like they would enter the ring.

     Vince pointed at them with his sword. “This is reserved for those who share my bed. Watching doesn’t count.”

     Moving his sword laterally, he pointed it at Fes and Petra. “Next.”

     Fes entered the ring while Petra dug through the training weapons. Fes had already retrieved a training sword that looked akin to her near great sword.

     “Husband, are you sure? If I win, I can’t look at you the same way.”

     Vince tilted his head to one side and regarded her.

     He wasn’t the same man he’d been when he defeated her the first time. Sure, he wasn’t what a human could reasonably do even then. After everything that had happened now, though… he wasn’t sure where he rated anymore. The passive power the Dryads’ trees gave him was immense.

     Vince had the feeling he could pull deeply on them as well if he wanted. That the ache begging to be used would push him well beyond limits a human body could support.

     “Come, wife Berenga. Know your match and hearken back to our first meeting.”

     Fes wasted no time and slashed at him, her sword moving quick. Before she completed the attack, she’d changed her footwork to bring herself around for whatever he might do.

     She’d trained with Petra for quite a while, and he could see clearly how her form had improved. Previous to this, she’d been more of an experience fighter. Now she was a trained fighter that thought of the possibilities.

     She was incredibly dangerous.

     Vince slipped in close and blocked her attack outright. Stopping it dead in its tracks.

     Fes stared at him, not quite believing it. Vince took another step and slammed the hilt of his sword into her stomach.

     The only sound that came next was the sudden exhalation of breath as Fes had the wind knocked proverbially out of her.

     Crumpling to her knees, she dropped her blade, her head hanging.

     Vince waited patiently, giving her the minute she needed to get her breath back under control.

     Finally, she lifted her head, gazing up at him.

     Vince gave her a loving smile and leaned down to kiss her lips tenderly.

     “Much better, wife Berenga. You’ve improved. Are you well?” he asked gently.

     Fes nodded her head, and got to her feet.

     “So strong,” she said. There was a tiny change in her tone. One he hadn’t heard since they’d first bonded.

     Desperate admiration.

     “Have to be. I have such strong wives. They keep me on my toes. Off with you now, I need to tend to Petra now.”

     Fes picked up her blade and walked off towards Meliae. All three Dryads turned to the Orc and immediately bent to the task of fixing her.

     Turning to Petra, he pointed the blade at her. “Come, Petra.”

     “Master.” Petra entered the ring, angling her spear at him. She made no move to engage him.

     “Playing hard to get, Petra?”

     “Master is well aware this one would do anything he asked. But if she can defeat Master, she will be Fes.”

     Vince couldn’t argue the fault in logic.

     Petra relied on her whole being when fighting. Having lived on a war front her whole life, that counted for a lot.

     Leaning forward, Vince then darted in. His left hand grabbed the spear and yanked with all everything he had as he swung around with his blade.

     Petra released the spear and leapt to one side.

     His sword stroke passed through the empty air.

     Vince chased after her, catching her only a second after she landed. Swinging his blade up in an underhanded blow, he caught her under the armpit.

     The strike was so strong that the heavy ant soldier was surprisingly knocked flat on her side.

     The sharp crack of the blade breaking in half was audible over everything. Vince looked at the split blade with a frown.

     Falling into a neutral stance, Vince laid his blade on his shoulder. “Good adaptation.”

     Petra was on her side. Three of her legs twitched as she righted herself, getting up to her feet.

     The ant soldier stared at him, her antennae twitching slowly. “Master,” Petra whispered, and then moved to the edge of the ring.

     Having finished with Fes, the Dryads leapt into action on Petra.

     “Good. Now that that’s settled, I recognize Berenga as my Fes. Do any challenge her?”

     Petra looked at the Orc, and Fes looked at the ant soldier.

     “This one does.” Petra turned and looked to him as she said it.

     “Great, the Elf sisters will act as referee since they’re a neutral party. Once the Dryads clear you for action, you two may begin.”

     Vince walked over to the Dryads and sat down next to them, motioning to the Elves. “I appreciate your assistance.”

     Elysia, Eva, and Thera couldn’t hide the way they looked at him. Awe, fear, and a bit of what looked like adoration.

     “My liege.”

     “Lord.”

     “Master.”

     The Dryads collectively shooed Petra onward, having found nothing wrong with her. She was rather tough, after all.

     Petra and Fes went to the center of the ring as the Elves fanned out around the two of them. “Winner is the first to score what would be classified as a fatal attack. No targeting the head,” Vince called, and then turned to Meliae.

     “You alright?”

     The Dryad nodded her head and gave him a bright smile. “It went as I expected, but I surprised you.”

     “That you did. Have you been practicing?”

     Meliae pointed at Karya and Daphne. “They’re far more martial than I am. I’m sure they’ll be better able to fend you off.”

     The other two Dryads didn’t respond to that, but he could see the green of their eyes threatening to overtake the pupils.

     Vince ignored the implied requirement of them being part of his bedroom routine and turned to watch Petra and Fes.

     They squared off slowly, each wielding a sword.

     “Who do you think will win?” Karya asked him.

     “I’m not sure. Nor do I think it matters. Half of the problem was my own fault for not asserting dominance. Berenga needs it from a cultural perspective. Petra from a societal and class perspective.”

     “I just need it. I like it when you break me,” Meliae mewled, pressing into his arm.

     “You like being forced, not broken. Though one does usually dictate the other.”

     Meliae made happy sounds of agreement and then released his arm, patting his shoulder.

     “After that power display of yours, I don’t think Fes will want to wrestle for a while,” Meliae said as her eyes turned back to the fight. “You didn’t even pull on our trees. I’m sure you felt it, calling out to you.”

     Vince knew exactly what she was talking about in regards to the trees.

     As if on command, the feeling returned, though much subtler now.

     Carefully, he “pulled” on it with his thoughts and then let go.

     All three Dryads shimmered a faint green hue for a second and faded.

     Meliae, Daphne, and Karya had given him their full attention.

     “Ah, I see. What did you mean about the wrestle thing, though?”

     Meliae cocked her head to one side. “Berenga is a playful Orc. She willingly took on the role of your Fes, but she got rid of a good portion of the ritual of it.

     “As Mother told it, the Fes is frequently mounted from behind as a form of subjugation.

     “Berenga prefers to wrestle for dominance or mock fight with you for it. I’ve seen you let her win on occasion, and how she lets you win as well. If she didn’t want to, you’d have to kill her for it, probably.”

     “Interesting.” Vince thought on that for a bit. Maybe it’d be good to reinforce that one today.

     She was certainly different now than how she’d been when they’d first started off on this journey. The rigidity of her mind and actions had softened. She’d even become tender towards him.

     Loved him.

     And I love them.

     Vince sighed, a smile flickering over his face. Draping an arm around Meliae, he pulled her in close and kissed the top of her head.

     “Thanks for the hint. Love you.”

     Meliae froze up, her body becoming rigid in his embrace. Then she melted into him, nuzzling her head up under his jaw.

     On the sand, Fes and Petra were slow to engage each other. Small attacks and efficient parries were all that were exchanged.

     Slowly, it became the inexorable fight of wills he had somewhat expected. Fes and her indomitable spirit and Petra with her near tireless endurance.

     Wooden blades clacked back and forth as they attacked and defended, their footwork looking expertly done to Vince’s eye. Their movements clean and efficient.

     “They really are quite good,” he murmured.

     Then it was suddenly over. Fes’s blade was wedged into Petra’s side.

     Fes had welcomed a blow and diverted it. She had taken Petra’s blade high on her arm and let it graze over her shoulder as she brought around her own weapon into Petra.

     The Elves conferred for a moment and then Thera motioned to Fes.

     “Berenga is the winner by virtue of the fact that her attack would have slain her opponent. Petra’s would only have disabled her. This is our finding, Lord.”

     Vince clapped his hands. “Great. Fes, Petra, Meliae, Daphne, Karya, into the house. Thera, Eva, Elysia, please tidy up here and then take whatever duty you see fit. I’ll be retiring for a while.”

     Standing up, Vince didn’t wait for replies or acknowledgments and made his way into the manor.

     Entering through the rear door, he started unstrapping his leather armor. He never left without it and felt naked if he wasn’t wearing it.

     Moving up the stairs, he peeled off his armor from his chest.

     A boot nudge and he’d entered his bedroom. Vince began piling his armor and clothes in a messy pile on the dresser.

     Standing nude, he turned and waited.

     One by one, the summoned women trooped into the bedroom. Including the Elves who weren’t invited.

     Once they’d all entered, he pointed to the door. “Shut it.”

     Petra lifted one long leg and closed the door with a click.

     Vince now pointed to the ground. “Clothes.” The demand was simple without any room to argue.

     A moment later, there were eight piles of fabric on the ground, and eight naked women.

     Vince didn’t bother to correct the Elves. Instead, he deliberately looked them over. Eying their chests, hips, and privates. Then met their eyes.

     They came willingly. Let’s give them a show behind the curtains. They can decide after.

     Deciding to move this along, Vince lifted his hand and gestured to the naked Orc woman and then indicated the bed wordlessly.

     Chapter 25

     Fes’s dark eyes followed the movement of his hand. There was no fear in her, no disagreement, or anger. A gentle sweep of her thoughts and he’d gotten his answer.

     Overwhelming acceptance, lust, desire, and a sense of wanting to know her place.

     She has more in common with Meliae than she’d ever admit. This isn’t all for them, of course; what man doesn’t fantasize about something like this?

     The Orc woman crawled onto the bed, facing the wall, and settled down on her forearms and knees.

     “Other way,” Vince said softly, moving to the side of the bed. He laid one hand to her hip and gave her a nudge.

     Fes blinked and then slowly turned around, facing the rest of the women. Her skin darkened in a flush as she tried in vain to meet their eyes.

     Vince leaned in and nipped her pointed ear with his teeth, then whispered for her alone.

     “You are my Fes. Tonight, you will be treated as Fes. I expect you to make eye contact with everyone. To stare into their eyes as they watch you being mounted. Do you understand?”

     Fes gave a tiny bow of her head.

     “Good. Know that I love you, Berenga.”

     The Orc’s eyes widened, her skin prickling along the length of her body. Vince took a step up onto the bed and then settled in behind the Orc.

     Using his hands, he forced her knees a bit further apart, her hips lower, her stomach down towards the bed, and her shoulders up.

     Then he carefully sunk his fingers into her hair and then gripped into it.

     Looking down, he angled himself until the tip rested against her moist entry. Then he pushed forward into his Fes roughly. Pulling back on her hair, he didn’t stop until his hilt was flush with her lips.

     Drawing his hips back, he looked up from their joining and set his eyes on Thera. He watched the Dark Elf intently as he began to thrust in and out of Fes. Thera met his eyes for a second before looking to Fes instead.

     Reaching out with his gift, he penetrated her mind and then forced her to meet his gaze. Then he prodded at her thoughts with lust and desire. Staring into her.

     Fes moaned, pushing her hips back into him, her neck straining as his hold on her bent her inexorably towards him.

     He wormed thoughts of sex into Thera’s mind. Thought of her trading places with Fes. Being moved into different positions.

     It was then that he felt Thera reach the cusp of what she could tolerate. He released her mind and looked to Elysia. Blue eyes met his and skittered away immediately.

     Pinning her mind as easily as Thera’s, he began to dump everything into her. Suggestions, desires, implications. The sounds she’d make instead. Forcing her to meet his eyes just as he had Thera.

     Elysia began panting heavily, her hands pressing into her stomach.

     The Orc warrior started to grunt with every heavy thrust of Vince’s. He’d kept his speed low, but his strength up. Vince only plowed his hips into hers harder and harder, while pulling back on her hair.

     Elysia hit her breaking point faster than Thera. She started to hunch over herself, her hands pressing into her lower abdomen firmly.

     Vince was forced to exit her mind and leap into Eva’s.

     Eva was the easiest to spread out and pin inside her own mind. She was already full of desire and he flamed it. Flamed it hard and breathed burning life into it. He yanked hard on her mentally, forcing her eyes to meet his own as he loaded her full of thoughts and ideas.

     And simple, unadulterated lust.

     His lap smacked into Fes with loud cracks, his tip driving deep into her. What had been building for several minutes was coming up to a climax.

     Releasing Eva, who collapsed to her knees and leaned into Elysia’s side, he then slipped into Daphne, Karya, and Meliae at the same time.

     Using them as a font, he channeled the worst lust, domination, and ownership he could into their minds.

     At the same time, he pushed forward, forcing Fes to collapse into the bed, her face being pressed into the comforter. He set his knees in to the back of hers, gripped her shoulders with one hand, his other buried in her hair, and began thrusting into her with reckless abandon.

     Reaching inside of her mind, he found what he could only describe as her pleasure center.

     Then he lit it up like lightning bolt going through a tree.

     Moments later, he hit his peak, pushing hard into her as deeply as he could. At the same time, he tried to boil the minds of his Dryads with his climax.

     Fes moaned each time as he drove deep into her, pushing his seed as deeply as possible. The quivering Orc moaned into the bed while clenching and unclenching her hands in the comforter.

     Pulling himself out of Fes, and mentally disengaging from her, Vince shuffled back on his knees. Taking a seat on his shins, Vince surveyed his work.

     Fes’s knees went out from under her and she lay in the bed. A moaning, gasping mess. She shook from head to toe. Her legs spasmed once or twice, her eyes distant as she gazed out at nothing.

     Then he released the Dryads from his mental domination and looked to Karya.

     “Clean it,” Vince said, pointing at his stained member. It oozed seed and was liberally coated in Fes’s own liquid.

     The demand was heavy in tone. There was no room for argument. Only obeisance.

     Karya leapt forward, her hands pressing to his knees as her mouth engulfed him hungrily. She pushed him down her throat and closed her eyes as her lips wrapped around his hilt.

     Soft suckling noises could be heard as she did her best to obey. Inside her mouth, her tongue spun crazily, wildly, around his length. Scrubbing him with it.

     “Thank you, Karya,” Vince said, petting Karya’s head as she worked diligently.

     “Daphne, please take our Fes and set her down so she can watch.”

     Daphne moved forward, her gaze locked on Karya’s head as she lifted Fes from the bed. Gathering up the Orc like a child, she set her down on the ground with her back against the wall.

     He patted Karya on the brow. “That’s enough.”

     Karya slid her head back and her lips came free with a pop. She gave him a cat-who-got-the-canary smile and watched him from under her brows as she slithered back towards her original spot. Slowly, she got to her feet and leaned up against the wall.

     Vince tugged gently on the trees inside him as he lifted a hand to Petra.

     Immediately, he could feel the trees revitalize him, pushing energy into him so he could perform again.

     The soldier ant came forward slowly, concern written on her features. Vince realized the reason for her hesitation. He could never bend her over as he had Fes.

     Crooking a finger to her, he waited with a smile.

     Petra sidled up beside the bed and then moved in close.

     He pressed his lips to her ear.

     “Lay on your back, my soldier. I want you to make eye contact with everyone, make sure you watch them, as they watch you. I want you to feel their eyes on you. To know that you’re being watched. That is my desire of you, my desire of my second. I love you.”

     Vince pulled back from her ear and waited.

     Petra’s face turned a deep scarlet. Then she lifted herself up, and carefully laid herself down on the bed, her torso and abdomen facing the ceiling. Then she spread her six legs and laid her arms down beside her head.

     Shifting forward, Vince took himself in his right hand. His tip caught in her lips and he pushed the head into her. Hitching his knees up under her topmost pair of legs, he set his knees into her sides.

     Pinning her wrists together with his left hand, he clenched his hand shut.

     Reaching up with his right hand, he casually thumbed a nipple and fondled her breasts. Then he sunk the full length of himself into her with one smooth movement.

     Petra inhaled quickly and laid her head back on the edge of the bed. With his free right hand, he grabbed a fistful of her blonde hair and pulled her head back and to the side, forcing her eyes up to the others.

     Where he’d started hard and slow with Fes, with Petra he went fast and deliberate.

     Wet sloshing noises could be heard under Petra’s high-pitched whining moans. Gripping tight into the flesh of her forearms, Vince linked back into Thera’s mind.

     Looking up, he snared her with his eyes and devoured her mentally again. He turned loose on her all the feelings of his previous climax and enjoying Petra right here and now. The feeling of her, and how it would feel if it was her.

     Her soft Elven body being broken beneath him.

     She lasted almost as long as the first time before he was forced to turn her loose. Her knees buckled as he did so, but she regained her balance and kept standing. Her eyes were glazed over and her mouth hung open.

     Petra was whimpering and moaning beneath him, her hips bucking wildly as he pummeled her.

     Instead of taking Elysia and Eva separately, after seeing how little Thera could handle, he grabbed them both together with his thoughts.

     Encouraged by Petra’s wild abandon, he drowned Elysia and Eva in the dark part of his mind. The part that had been waking up from his Dryads. The part that wanted to bend and break them to his will.

     To break his Elves and demean them as the concubines they called themselves.

     He dumped an endless stream of thoughts and desires into them. Most specifically, he forced their own perspectives into what was being done to Petra. To make them live it out as if it were them.

     Elysia crumpled immediately, dropping down to her bottom and sitting on the floor. Eva slumped over and lay in Elysia’s lap as they stared at Vince, and he stared back at them.

     Petra’s legs shot up and pressed into the ceiling above them as she cried out. Vince lifted her arms further above her head, pulling harder at her hair. Her head was twisted further, bending her like the plaything she wanted to be.

     Vince felt his climax spiral out rapidly, and he had to cut Elysia and Eva loose a touch rougher than he’d wanted.

     Then he smashed his way into the minds of all three Dryads again. Winding them rapidly into his orgasm, he dragged them mentally through his wants and emotions.

     Slipping into Petra’s mind, he burned up the part of her mind that he now recognized as her pleasure center from his experience with Berenga.

     Petra made a hiccup-like noise that turned into a gurgling moan as her body went rigid.

     Vince ground himself up against his soldier ant as he unloaded his hot seed into her. Holding his breath as his body shuddered, Vince pumped into her twice more.

     He grunted as he finished. Easing himself back from her, his eyes fell on her slit. It pulsed and quivered, a small trickle of what he’d left behind seeping out.

     Taking a seat on his backside, he put his knees out in front of himself. Finally, he released the three Dryads from his mental chokehold after he calmed down.

     Meeting Daphne’s eyes, he started to lift his hand to point to his crotch. It was once more slick with thick seed and whatever Petra had left on him.

     He hadn’t even opened his mouth to give her the order before she practically appeared in front of him, her hands pushing his knees apart to get more access to him.

     She buried his tip in her throat and moaned lewdly, pressing her face hard against his lower stomach as if to get more. Her hands gripped his nuts and began to knead them, as if she could milk him directly.

     Wrapping his hand into her hair, he pushed her head in closer, making sure she kept deepthroating him. He was almost sure she couldn’t even breathe at this point.

     “That’s great, Daphne. Just like that,” Vince murmured, fingers curling in her hair tighter. Daphne mewled and sucked harder on him in response.

     “Karya, pick up our second and settle her. Just like Fes, please.”

     Responding immediately, Karya slid her arms under Petra and lifted her easily. She carried her to the corner and set her down, propping her head up on Fes’s shoulder.

     They’re so strong now. All that magical energy straight into their trees clearly changed them.

     Letting go of Daphne’s head, he pulled on the trees inside him again. Once more he felt his sex drive surge, his energy skyrocket.

     “Daphne, Karya, bring me Meliae. Put her on her back. One of you hold her left arm and leg, the other her right arm and leg. Keep her splayed and open for me.

     “Do well, and I’ll reward you both later.”

     As if they were wolves on a scent, Daphne peeled herself off Vince as Karya’s head whipped around. Meliae blinked and took a step back before the other two Dryads attacked her.

     They wrapped her up with strong arms and hands, lifting her bodily from the ground. Then dropped her onto the bed in front of Vince like a sacrifice. Daphne and Karya then cranked her arms and legs back, spreading her wide for him.

     The view was lovely. He admired the full-chested and curvy little Dryad.

     Vince crawled atop her, set the tip to her entrance, and slammed himself into her dripping channel.

     Meliae let out a gasp that turned into a deep moan. Her arms and legs spasmed against Daphne and Karya. Vince bit her ear fiercely, almost to the point of drawing blood.

     “My precious Dryad. Time to show everyone what you Dryads want. I’ve been pulling in the Elves for part of this. This time, I’m going to let everyone dwell in your mind. To share all those nasty thoughts and wants that pop up in there,” Vince promised.

     He knew her mind. She couldn’t help herself. She’d have thoughts that would burn her with shame. Shame that would burn hot and fierce, in turn making her want more, and then burn even deeper with shame.

     Meliae made a soft squeak as she thought on his words.

     “From you, my third, I want your eggs. All of them. I want you to make as many of them available as you can. We’re going to see how many I can seed in one load. Your eggs are mine, I might as well fertilize them all. Right?”

     “Yes,” whispered Meliae. He couldn’t mistake the excitement, mind-crushing shame, and want in her voice. “Yours. All yours. Every one.”

     “Good.”

     Meliae’s eyes were fully green, and glowing now.

     To start, Vince gently cupped the minds of Fes and Petra, then opened a window into Meliae’s from their own.

     Then he grabbed the minds of his Elves, Daphne, and Karya, then linked them to Meliae’s directly. Then he opened up the floodgates to Meliae and let it crash over them all with every single memory of what he’d ever done to Meliae.

     And then showed them every one of her desires of him.

     Easing her head to the side with his brow, he bit deep into her neck, sucking hard. He was intent to mark her visibly.

     He rocked his hips back and forth as hard and fast as he could, driving his shaft through her like a hammer pounding on a nail.

     The tiny Dryad shuddered with each blow of his hips, her voice coming out in gasps and grunting moans.

     Reaching up with his left hand, he grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled back, forcing her to meet the eyes of all three Elves, along with Petra and Fes. It also forced her to bare more of her neck to him.

     Letting go with his teeth, he drove them back into a different stretch of unblemished pale skin. For a moment, he swore he tasted blood in his mouth.

     Meliae cried out, her body flexing. Daphne and Karya held her in place, forcing her to accept everything.

     Vince glanced up to find the three Elves, Fes, and Petra all staring at Meliae as they were flooded with sexual scenes, emotions, needs, and the twisted desires of a Dryad.

     Thera finally succumbed and sunk slowly to her knees to lean up against Elysia.

     Meliae, lost in her own world, cried out between hip-shaking, breathtaking thrusts.

     “More! Harder! Harder! Break me!”

     As she always managed, she spurred him on. That strange magic that she held over his libido.

     “Defile me! Own me! Fill me with your seed,” she cried out, only to be silenced with a grunt as he hammered his member home into her. “Your personal flowerpot!” She grunted, then moaned as his hips crashed into her over and over. “All of your seed into me!”

     Releasing the bruised flesh in his teeth, he bit down where her neck met her shoulder.

     Meliae whimpered, deliberately turning her head further, offering up more flesh to him.

     The pounding she was taking was audible. Each and every slap of flesh punctuated with filthy demands from the Dryad’s sweet mouth and full lips between growling grunts and moans.

     Vince gave in to the need and pumped her as hard as he could, his member rapidly expanding and flexing as he unloaded syrupy seed into her.

     As he’d done with the other two, he sent enough stimulation through her pleasure center to even melt a Dryad’s wanton nature.

     “Yes! Yes! Give me it!” Meliae cried, her voice breaking as it became a wordless scream. Her thighs and arms pulled hard at her Dryad handlers, desperately trying to wrap herself around Vince so he couldn’t pull away if he tried.

     Then, he pushed the Elves, both Dryads, Fes, and Petra’s minds into Meliae’s hip-breaking orgasm.

     Gasping out a breath, Vince pushed hard against Meliae, who ground her hips into him, squeezing the walls of her channel for all she was worth. Her breath was caught as her scream ended, unable to even breathe.

     As the last burst left him, he collapsed atop his Dryad.

     His eyes focused on the naked Elves against the wall, who looked dazed. He unclipped everyone from Meliae and closed the window into her mind. As everyone was released from the communal orgasm, Meliae finally took a breath.

     As one, the Elves sat taking gulping breaths against one another.

     Looking to the used and naked Fes and Petra, he found they looked wiped out.

     Daphne and Karya let go of Meliae’s limbs and then started to bicker quietly about something over his head.

     The now released Meliae slumped into the bed, her arms and legs too heavy to lift.

     “I love it,” she gasped. “When you break me.” Meliae took another deep breath. “Sweetling.”

     Vince chuckled once at that.

     Four hands promptly eased him onto his back, away from Meliae. He slid out of her, the tip dripping with seed and smeared with fluid from hilt to head.

     Daphne and Karya’s heads appeared by his groin. Vince was tired but realized what they’d been arguing about. Laying a hand on each of their heads, he eased them towards his shaft.

     They each took a side, starting at the base. Their lips pressed against each other’s around his girth. Each ran their tongues over him greedily and inched their way to the top.

     Their tongues battled back and forth when they reached the end. Before they could get into trouble, Vince tightened his hands in their hair.

     Then he pulled Daphne’s head down along his length. He forced her head up and down twice slowly. Leisurely.

     After that, he pulled her back and forced Karya to deepthroat him next. Pushing her head down an extra third time, he then released them both and let out an exhausted sigh.

     Both Dryads went back to taking turns downing him. Licking and slurping at him. Four hands squeezed and fondled his jewels as they chattered back and forth quietly.

     Vince didn’t care. A cursory sweep of everyone’s mind told him he’d done what he set out to do. All knew their place, or what it would be.

     All were content.

     Chapter 26

     Vince dragged a sleeve across his brow and then stood up. He’d never had a green thumb, but even he could help to prepare soil.

     Putting one hand on his hip, he looked up into the sky and wished for a breeze that wasn’t coming.

     He was on the eastern outskirts of the city that would be. Buildings were going up rapidly, roads were being paved, industries being kicked into high gear and churning out products.

     Things were on track.

     “Den master!” called a high-pitched voice.

     Looking around, Vince finally identified who was calling out to him. It was one of his Ratfolk.

     Vince waved at the two-foot creature as it scurried towards him. It was flanked by several of its den mates. Waiting patiently, Vince slung the hoe he’d been using up on his shoulder.

     “Den master,” said the one in the lead. They came to a sliding halt in front of him. Dirt sprayed across his boots and a pebble rattled off his shin. “We sighted humans. Coming this way from the west. Many. Unmounted. They follow the tracks. Here in a sun and a half.”

     They weren’t the brightest, but they’d proved insanely loyal to him and good scouts.

     “Good work. Get your den mates into the warren and sleep. I’ll need you tonight. As a reward for your excellent service, you can claim an extra item from the depot,” Vince said with a grin. He fished out a circular token from his pocket, checked that it had a number one on it, then handed it over.

     “Den master, thank you. We go.” The Ratfolk looked pleased. After a quick confirmation with each other, they took off at a sprint.

     They hadn’t been given much in the way of respect previously, he gathered. Rewards and positive affirmation went a long way for them because of that.

     Elysia had been beyond wise to recommend them as scouts.

     Thinking of the High Elf, he turned his head to find her sitting not far from him. She had found a large rock and floated it over, turning it into a seat. She was reading over some book she’d dug out of his library.

     Thera and Eva were some fifty feet behind her. Engaged in some light sparring. They’d started working with Fes, Petra, Daphne, and Karya to up their martial prowess.

     Elysia’s style of combat didn’t lend itself to sparring. Things were either on fire or not.

     The High Elf’s blue eyes flicked up to him over the top of the page she was on. If his eyesight weren’t as good as it was, he probably wouldn’t have noticed.

     She’d developed a habit of watching him. He’d politely ignored it most of the time. Her eyes remained glued to him when she realized he was watching her.

     Tilting his head to one side, he wondered if it would be better to see the Fairies himself or send Elysia.

     Slowly, the High Elf lowered the book down, as if to make sure he knew she was aware of his gaze.

     He set the handle of the hoe against his thigh, then brushed his hands against the work tunic he was wearing.

     No, we’re done here.

     Vince grimaced and then pulled the work tunic off over his head. Picking up the hoe, he set off for Elysia.

     Elysia stood up from the rock and looked back to her sisters, then to him. Closing the book in her hand, she smoothed out her dress with the other.

     “My liege, what may I do for you?” Elysia asked him when he got within range.

     Instead of responding, he smiled at her and closed in.

     After he’d dragged them through the quagmire of what was Meliae’s mind, the Elves had changed. They were more aware of him. Nervous. Bashful, even.

     Of course, that only provoked Vince as a predator. Teasing them had quickly become a favorite thing to do.

     “I’m not sure, what are you offering?” Vince asked, closing in on her until a single foot separated them.

     Elysia’s cheeks turned a faint red, glowering at him from under blonde eyebrows. Then, unexpectedly, she gently smacked his chest with the book. “Stop it.”

     “As you like,” Vince said amicably. “I need to meet with the Fairies. Ratfolk reported a sighting. Need to confirm it with them. No word from the Brownies.”

     Elysia’s eyes drifted off as she took her thoughts inward. After several seconds, she came out of whatever thought she’d fallen into.

     “Agreed. We’ll meet you there,” Elysia said, turning to go get her sisters. She stopped and then glanced over her shoulder at him. Deliberately, she set her eyes to his waist and then trailed upwards along his bare torso. “Put a shirt on as well. You’re distracting.”

     Then she was off.

     Vince smirked at that. Of the three of them, Elysia was the most honest. He liked it.

     Dropping the tunic and hoe off at the farming shed, he retrieved his clothes and armor. Then he veered off for the tree of the Fairies.

     They didn’t go out on scouting missions. They were to be used as scouting confirmations. They could keep themselves aloft in the low sky while being nearly invisible.

     Their stamina was the only thing that kept them on standby missions.

     One of the trees they’d left alone was a large and looming black oak tree. The spirit inside was old. It had said it would prefer to die with the tree if that was what it came down to.

     Instead, Vince had made arrangements with it. Protect and nurture his Fairies, and he’d leave the tree alone and protect it in turn.

     Managing to get the last strap in place as he neared the tree, he glanced up into the foliage.

     Nothing moved.

     Stepping up to the base of the tree, he looked up into the branches above.

     “Scouts have reported a sighting. West by about a day and a half, and they’re on their way here. I need confirmation and then oversight,” Vince said to what looked like nobody and nothing.

     Then they appeared. Winged humanoids the size of a small bird. They had shimmering wings on their back that could carry them at incredible speed.

     “Master!” they cried at him, landing all along his shoulders and head.

     Male and female Fairies chattered at him, all trying to get his attention. The overwhelming demand made was that he visit soon for a meal.

     “Yes, I promise to come by and have lunch sometime. I really do need that scouting mission taken care of, though.”

     As one, they grumped about promises that could be broken. Eventually, through repeated promises that he really would have lunch with them, they started to flit off, only a few remaining in their tree.

     Turning from the tree, he realized he needed to call a council meeting. Rather than by race, every function, job, building, or department had someone in charge of it.

     They had others below them in charge of other things, and so on and so forth. Very, very military, and very efficient.

     Thera, Eva, and Elysia were all standing behind him, waiting.

     “Ah, good timing, ladies. We need to hold a council. Preferably in an hour or so. Can you put that together for me?” Vince asked, his eyes sweeping from one Elf to the next.

     “Consider it done,” they said in unison.

     “You ladies sure are in sync lately. You should stop fighting it when I call you sisters,” Vince said, waving a finger back and forth at the three. “Besides, you spend more time with each other than you do anyone else. I’ve never even seen you argue with each other. For all that ‘all Elves hate other Elves’ nonsense, you sure don’t act like it. As far as I can tell, every Elf here is working hand in hand with the others. All in your family, no less.

     “Probably the most put-together faction I have.”

     The three regarded each other, then looked back to him. Elysia looked thoughtful, Thera annoyed, and Eva a little lost.

     “What, is that a problem? If you want a better example, have you looked around our city lately?” Vince asked, and then indicated everything around them.

     The Elves started to look around them when he said that.

     Ogres were holding carpenters aloft in the air as they worked on buildings. Orcs and Dwarves were doing inventory checks on ore from a wagon. Goblins were busily working to insert paving stones into the road as a couple of High Elves created them. A mixed unit of Wolfmen, Bearmen, and Ratfolk were sparring against a team made up of Dwarves, Orcs, and Hobgoblins in a field nearby.

     “You can’t tell me you don’t see it. You’re intelligent and beautiful women. Can you honestly tell me you don’t see it?” Vince said.

     Eva turned back to him and cast her eyes down at her feet. “I see it, Master.”

     Thera looked back at him and smiled slowly, then wrapped an arm around Elysia’s waist. “My Lord is ever wise,” she proclaimed, wrapping her other arm around Eva’s middle. “My sisters and I will get the council together.”

     Elysia smiled shyly, before setting her arm around Thera’s shoulders.

     As one they walked off, their heads turning to each other in a conversation Vince deliberately blocked out.

     The swift and deadly Eva, the intellectual Elysia, the warrior Thera. Between the three of them, if they worked together, they couldn’t fail.

     Careening in at full speed from the side of his vision was a Fairy.

     “Master! They’re already here,” cried the Fairy in despair. “They’re minutes from the walls.

     Turning from the fairy, Vince walked up to an Ogre. He didn’t recognize it by name. Smacking it on the hip, he stared up at it. It took some oomph for an Ogre to recognize something had hit it.

     Slowly, the big head swiveled down to peer at him, then grinned when it recognized him.

     “Lord?” it asked slowly.

     “Remember how to sound an alarm?”

     The Ogre nodded its head ponderously.

     “Sound the alarm for the wall.”

     A second later, the Ogre gently set down the Elven carpenter he’d been holding up to work on a roof and then placed his hands to his mouth.

     He sucked in a deep breath and began to let out a single thunderous bellow.

     All around the growing city, everyone stopped and listened. As the Ogre finished, he set off for whatever job he had for a wall alarm.

     Then everyone else took off in every direction.

     There was no sound except for the pounding of feet, boots, and claws. Everyone knew their task.

     Vince was glad he’d made it a habit of going out armed and armored. He had to get to the wall.

     Heading out at a swift jog, Vince fell in with the mass of bodies moving that way. The dormitories had been converted to barracks and armories as more and more of the citizens had been given a home. Men and women of every species streamed in one side of those buildings and came out the other with arms and armor.

     It went smooth, swift, assured.

     Daily drills had given everyone a plan and confidence.

     As the walls came into view, Vince felt better.

     The entire western expanse was done. All the way to the point that it bordered with impassable rock that went far to the north, then west. He’d build walls in that direction eventually, but for today, nature would be his shield there.

     The southern wall was also complete. If one were to pencil in the eastern and northern wall based on those two, they’d realize it encompassed an area five times what the original plan for the city was.

     “Room to grow” was the phrase he’d heard passed around when they’d unveiled the plans.

     The eastern wall was only a fourth done, the remainder being open to whatever might come. Hopefully they’d be too stupid to bother checking that it went all the way around.

     One can hope.

     It was a pity the wall wasn’t done, but that was life.

     Taking the fortifications in seconds, Vince immediately moved up into a tower that overlooked the front gate. They’d been built every so often in the wall to reinforce it, and provide a place to view everything.

     Looking out to the west, he could see them. They were walking in on the plains his people had created all around the walls. They’d needed a clear line of fire and had it now.

     A mass of men and women with weapons from all walks of life, from personal to professional.

     Here and there, he could see city guard, militia, even the occasional soldier. He counted as best as he could, but gave up when he realized they were all shifting around.

     Beyond them were wagons and carts that he’d bet were loaded with foodstuffs and other things.

     “Around seven hundred heartbeats,” Karya said from his side. One hand pressed into his hip as the other slithered into his pants.

     Vince didn’t fight her since it would only encourage her. Attention was attention, after all.

     “Quite a number. Well, it’s within what we prepared for.” Vince shifted to one side as Karya’s hand worked its way into his privates and gripped him firmly. “Are they all humans? Is this everyone right here? No one sneaking around?”

     Karya shook her head, pressing her face into his side and taking a deep inhale. “Not that I can detect.”

     Her warm hand stroked him tenderly, hungrily. Karya and Daphne remained untouched by him. As did the Elves.

     They’d been starved of all sexual contact since challenge night. He didn’t fight the Dryads off, but he didn’t let it get out of hand or cooperate, either.

     Their reward that night had been the allowance that they could watch any of his nightly encounters they wanted at any time. They were happy for it, though they thought they’d get to participate.

     “Where’s Daphne?” he asked, rubbing Karya’s head.

     “She’s down at the gate, darling. You don’t need her, you have me,” Karya complained.

     “I do have you, but I do need her. Sorry, Karya.” Vince carefully extracted her hand. It wasn’t that she had no effect on him, because she did. Quite a bit, actually.

     The fact that every night he was taken care of by someone who cared for him deeply, though, made it easier to resist.

     Leaning out of the tower window, he looked down to the gate.

     There stood the tall Dryad, watching through the open gate.

     “Daphne,” Vince called down. The buxom woman turned her head up and saw him, then gave him a ferocious smile. “Can you get ready? They don’t look like they have siege equipment, but you never know.”

     “Yes, dearest.” The big Dryad moved to stand on the inside gate of the wall and then became motionless.

     Karya grabbed his ass and squeezed it, her other hand tickling his neck with her fingertips.

     “Are you really that insatiable that you want me to plow you while we’re being attacked?” Vince asked, only mildly irritated. Part of him was flattered.

     “Yes. Push me out the window facing the enemy and fuck me. I don’t fight as much as Meliae does. Seed me. I’ve been practicing. I can get thousands of eggs ready for you to fertilize in under a minute,” Karya said huskily at him.

     “Tell you what. Be good for the rest of this week. On top of that, if you can get me my Elves, Fes, Petra, and Meliae, I’ll let you and Daphne start having a turn next week. Promise,” Vince said, looking out to the enemy approaching.

     “Prepare to pay up, darling,” Karya said, already on her way out of the tower.

     “Gladly.” Vince wasn’t against expanding his number of “wives,” as it were. Fes was already encouraging him to take both Dryads and all three Elves.

     The Dryads were stuck with him, though. When he died, so would they. They hadn’t been giving themselves to other men, either. In fact, they seemed to hate other men.

     They desired only him.

     It made it easier on him to accept them.

     Looking back into the mustering lane that was set up against the wall, he saw his Ogres and Trolls were armored up. Armored up and waiting for orders.

     Hanging on each waist in a gigantic sheath was a massive broadsword. Clutched in each hand was a spear with tree-like proportions and a banded tower shield that looked more like a drawbridge.

     They were already a hardy species. Putting them in Dwarven-made plate mail increased that survivability tenfold. Then give them a proper weapon, and train them like soldiers while putting a shield on their other arm, and he expected great things.

     Let’s see how well they do.

     The big, feisty Troll he hadn’t wanted to purchase waited below the tower. After her talk with Meliae, she’d changed.

     She’d taken control of the large species and ruled over them sternly. All respected their “Lord” and his “Big Commander,” in both word and action. Rule breaking or dishonor was immediately punished. There were no repeat offenders.

     Military law and courtesy rang well with the whole group.

     He’d had no problems with them. At all.

     “Kitch!” Vince called out the name of the Troll.

     Her misshapen and beastly face swung up to meet his.

     “Take your people into the field. Tell our foes to leave. If they don’t… lay into them. Show me how well your people learned their trade. Show me Kitch and her warriors,” Vince said evenly.

     Kitch grinned evilly at him, then crossed her arms against her shoulders in salute. She then cracked her massive mitts into each other and bellowed a short grunt.

     Her people fell into a marching formation.

     Then the group of thirty-some odd Ogres and Trolls exited through the gate that had been built specifically to accommodate their size. They marched in formation.

     They moved in sync, their arms and legs pumping to an unspoken cadence.

     It was terrifying to Vince.

     Stopping out in front of the wall, Kitch quickly lined up her people into two rows and took several steps out ahead of the line.

     “By order of Lord, you leave!” shouted the Troll. “Leave, or die. One minute to turn around. Then you die!” The armored Troll turned back into her line and slid into the center rank in the second row.

     At a glance, he could tell that these people wouldn’t be leaving. They looked like they were shouting at each other with some sort of fervor.

     He couldn’t figure out what was driving them, but it didn’t matter. Moving to the back of the tower, he leaned out again.

     “Frit!”

     Waiting below in the mustering lane were a number of his captains. A Bearman lifted a shaggy head. This was his mixed units captain. A Wolfman and Ratfolk stood beside him.

     “Get yourself in position as reserves for Kitch. They’re going to end up surrounded. We might need you to harass the flanks so they can get out or at least evacuate wounded if they have them. I don’t imagine you’ll need to completely engage, but use your discretion.”

     Frit saluted and barked his orders to his lieutenants. All three were off at a jog. A company’s worth of soldiers in Dwarven armor and weapons lumbered out the gate and fanned out in reserve for Kitch.

     Ratfolk rode their compatriots like mounts in specially built slots for them. They could scamper up or down with each and without impeding their comrades.

     Armed with tough, long spears made specifically for them, they looked unimpressive.

     Vince knew better. He’d seen what Frit had been practicing. They were his mischief makers.

     Ratfolk could flank a unit from below and escape before they were caught.

     The humans gave their reply to Kitch’s demand.

     They charged.

     Chapter 27

     Kitch bellowed an order and her people reorganized themselves. They made a quick circle of twenty with ten in the center. Those in the outer ring handed their spears to the center, and then joined their shields together with those at their sides. Then they unlimbered their swords, sliding them into the spaces between the shields.

     Those on the interior stacked their shields in the middle and then got ready with their spears, positioning them so they could work in concert with the outer ring.

     Vince nodded in approval. Kitch had certainly been studying. He was no commander himself, but he could appreciate her orders.

     Moving to the entrance, he looked out to the wall.

     “Sivir!” he called to the siege ballistae atop the gates.

     They were large crossbows that fired huge bolts. An enclosed and armored seat and loading bay had been added to each one. They’d been built on simple gears, levers, and bearings with Gnome ingenuity.

     Loading had been taken up by Hobgoblins. They could set in a new bolt and cock it as if it were nothing more than a kid’s toy. These ballistae had an insane rate of fire because of that.

     A crazy-haired gnome popped out from around the side of one of them.

     “Hold your fire unless you see a real target of opportunity. I’d rather not give away your range quite yet if we don’t have to.”

     Sivir saluted and disappeared around the side of a ballista. Shouted commands traveled up and down the length of the wall.

     Fes stepped up beside him and peered out the viewing port ahead of them.

     A soft scuttling on the stones told him that Petra was clinging to the outside of the tower.

     Taking a quick peek down, he found his three Elves waiting at the base of the tower where it met the wall. They were facing the human wave of trash.

     “Kitch has this. Why deploy Frit?” Fes asked. She pressed her arm into his. She’d gotten subtle with her desires.

     Grinning, he gave her a quick hug and then indicated Frit.

     “I trust Kitch. I won’t risk her life with that trust, though. He’s just there in case.”

     “This one agrees with Master after hearing his reasoning, Fes,” Petra said, her voice coming from outside the tower.

     Fes considered that and nodded her head. “As do I, Second.”

     Since he’d put everyone in their place, they’d actually become rather friendly with each other.

     Nothing like knowing the chain of command.

     The humans reached the range of spears and began dying. Then the swords began flashing out.

     Finally, that fleshy wave hit the shields… and stopped dead. They flowed around his heavy metal group as if they were an ocean.

     Then the dying truly started in earnest.

     The Ogres and Trolls kept to their formation, remained in their solid shield wall, and simply killed.

     It was their first true battle as a unit. Vince hadn’t been sure how it’d turn out or if they’d be able to maintain discipline.

     He’d worried for nothing.

     As if realizing the same thing, he saw what nerves his heavy group had vanish. They became machine-like. Stabilize, stab, retract, stabilize, stab, retract.

     Bodies started to pile up at the foot of the shields.

     A bugle call came from somewhere he couldn’t see, and the wave of humanity started to retreat. Retreating at a run.

     Who made that call?

     Vince’s mind flipped over on that thought. It meant that this was planned. He needed to inflict more losses.

     “Elysia,” Vince called, moving to the ladder.

     The High Elf looked up to his summons. “My liege.”

     “Signal Frit to harass and return as able. Once they’re clear to do so, signal Kitch to head in.”

     The High Elf nodded and then moved off to one side.

     A crack split the air. Elysia had said it was the sound of her depleting a space of air and letting it fill in rapidly.

     Apparently some of the books his parents owned had given her the idea.

     Her magic gave her control of the elements, which included the air. This mastery gave her an impressive ability to conduct sound. Much akin to a bugler.

     She followed the original boom with three rapid-fire cracks, and then a low humming note, then another single crack.

     They’d developed a few means of communicating in the field, this being one of them.

     Frit knew his designation, the low humming note. As one, they set off in a loping stride.

     They could cover distance like cavalry without being winded. Before the humans had even gotten out of the kill circle of Kitch and her troop, Frit and his soldiers fell upon the retreating humans.

     “Can’t let them leave as they please. They didn’t come with any gifts or anything. Terrible neighbors. The least they can do is water our grass for us,” Vince murmured.

     Fes gave him a wide, toothy smile. “My brutal husband.”

     “When needs must. An enemy I leave alive today is another one I must face tomorrow. None of these fools will become allies.”

     Another crack split the air, followed by two low notes, then a rumbling, grinding noise.

     Kitch and her people reorganized themselves into a marching column, collected their gear, and quit the field in proper order.

     Frit and his forces ran down the humans as they fled. Clawing them, biting, stabbing. The Ratfolk slipped free to finish off wounded or maimed combatants rather than keep riding. They wouldn’t be much good running down fleeing humans.

     Frit was on the edge where Vince was starting to get nervous when they started to wheel around.

     Vince nodded and then left the tower. Kitch could use encouragement for a job well done.

     The Elves fell in behind him as he passed, all three looking more the part of bodyguards today, their heads on a swivel and inspecting everyone and everything around him.

     He reached the gate as Kitch came back in.

     “Kitch!”

     The Troll turned her head and found him. She pulled off her helmet and gestured for her troops to continue.

     “Well done, Kitch. I’m extremely proud of you and your soldiers. Give them my regards, and please come by later. Each will need to collect a token from me for that exemplary demonstration. Well done indeed.”

     Kitch looked confused, then gave him a slow smile. She gave him a partial salute, as her arms were full, and followed her troops.

     “Master, she has never received praise.”

     “Lord, she has probably been shunned her whole life.”

     “My liege is kind.”

     Vince snorted and turned back and looked out to the fields. “She did exceptionally well in training her folks. They performed perfectly. Look, you can see a circle of grass where they stood, and all around them the bodies of their foes.”

     A warm and soft body pressed into his back. Quick fingers played along his sides. “Two hundred fewer heartbeats, darling.”

     “Fantastic. Thank you for checking,” Vince said, catching Karya’s right hand and kissing her wrist.

     “Alright, they’ve got their nose bloodied. Hopefully that’ll keep them from deciding for further stupidity. They’ll probably wait for that second group.”

     “Second group?” Karya asked.

     “The Ratfolk said there was another force beyond this one still en route. The Fairies are out scouting and hopefully getting me a count.

     “All we can do for now is wait.”

     Vince spent most of each day on the wall, or nearby.

     The Fairies had returned the same day he’d sent them out. They’d confirmed there was indeed a second force still coming. And that force had roughly six hundred men, except they were apparently “soldiers” this time.

     They even had a baggage train with camp followers.

     Someone was funding this throwdown to actually purchase an entire merc company contract. With an actual war being fought in the north, there’d be more merc companies available, too.

     His Fairies had reported that the two groups had merged together last night. On top of that, at least two hundred of those civilians had started to move south around the wall as well.

     The situation was starting to deteriorate.

     He’d had his Beavermen work on reinforcing the stake wall to the east. They’d completed it previously, but were now making it much denser.

     It wouldn’t hold out a determined enemy forever, but it’d provide enough cover that they couldn’t simply swarm into the budding city.

     His siege crews had been told to fire as fast as the Hobgoblin loading crews could swing it during the next engagement.

     Assigned along the wall were his magic users as well, spread out to help hold the wall in whatever fashion they could. Each section they inhabited had been reinforced with a raised lip they could fall back behind.

     The last of the defenses were archers with short swords. Anyone who couldn’t fight in the front line had been trained with a bow and taught how to fire over the wall in volleys.

     Then to do their best if there was a breach of the wall or gate.

     It wasn’t pretty, but it’d take numbers out of the enemy.

     “Master, the humans in the south have found where the wall is incomplete,” reported a Fairy, floating above his head.

     Vince sighed and rubbed at his eyes with his hands. “Of course.”

     “The Ratfolk are still out causing mischief, but they succeeded. All of the food stores are… ruined.” The Fairy sounded sickened with her own statement.

     “Good. I hope they like eating and drinking Ratfolk shit. Anything else?”

     “No.”

     “Stay here on the west gate. I’ll head out to the east. Spread that info along.”

     Vince turned to his Elves, who were never far from him.

     “Eva, remain here. Thera, Elysia, stick on me. We’ve got a party to host on the eastern flank.”

     Vince turned to where Fes, Petra, Meliae, Daphne, and Karya stood. They’d been talking quietly right up until he’d started giving orders.

     “Fes, Petra, Meliae, Karya, you’re in charge here. Daphne, with me.”

     Moving towards his captains, Vince picked up his pace.

     “Kitch, you’re on gate duty. Let none pass.” The Troll looked to him and nodded.

     “Frit, with me, get your unit together. We’re on the east side.

     “Henry,” Vince said to the Dwarf in charge of the Orc, Hobgoblin, Dwarven unit. “You too. Consider yourselves co-captains.”

     Vince set off at a jog for the east. Behind him, he could hear the lieutenants getting people put together.

     Elysia, Thera, and Daphne fell in with him.

     “Dearest, are we not leaving too many here?” Daphne asked.

     Vince glanced over his shoulder and shook his head. “Meliae and Karya aren’t front line soldiers. I’d leave Elysia here if I could as well, but I need her. Sorry, Elysia.”

     “I live to serve you, my liege. I’m grateful to be needed.”

     As they left the small city in its massive walled enclosure, Vince had to wonder what was about to happen. Things weren’t adding up right. He was missing something. Something that would cost lives, he was sure.

     Vince pulled up on the inside of the wooden stake wall.

     “Daphne,” Vince said without turning his head. “Fill the field with brambles and thorns. Elysia, dry the stake wall out. I want it so bereft of moisture that it’d catch fire from someone thinking warm thoughts at it.”

     Both women said nothing, but he felt the magic being poured out of both. Daphne’s was like a torrent of rushing wild energy, where Elysia had a tight control over everything she did.

     “All done, dearest.”

     “I as well, my liege.”

     Vince turned and found Frit and Henry waiting behind him. Both saluted him, waiting for orders.

     “Take up defensive postures behind the stake wall. Arrange yourselves in whatever way you see fit. It’ll be set aflame once the enemy commits and cannot backtrack. Turn this into a fiery bottleneck of death,” Vince explained, jerking a thumb to the twenty-foot gap left in the stake wall for his people to come and go.

     Frit and Henry nodded and then turned to each other to work out their interpretation of his orders.

     Looking to Daphne and Elysia, he gave them a small smile. “Forgive me for turning your work into nothing more than a bonfire, but it’ll help greatly. When the time comes, can you get everything going at the same time?”

     It was a tall order. The stake wall went all the way down to the actual stone wall in the south.

     “Yes, dearest.”

     “I believe so, my liege.” Elysia sounded winded to him. Thera had slipped an arm around her waist, holding her close to her side. It looked like a friendly gesture, but he was sure that the Dark Elf was holding her sister up to a degree.

     Elysia had used a good deal of magic to dry out such a large stretch. He didn’t doubt that she could do what would come next; what he doubted was her ability to do anything after that.

     “Alright. Daphne, can I give any of this energy to Elysia? I’m not… I can’t use magic. Never been taught, but I know I’m full of energy.”

     Daphne tilted her head to one side and then nodded at him. The tall Dryad grabbed his hand and then put it on Elysia’s chest, right above her heart.

     “Push into her from where the trees are. They will understand,” Daphne said, holding his hand in place on the High Elf’s chest. “Do it gently or I will hurt you later, dearest.”

     Of his Dryads, Daphne was the one most likely to put up a good fight. Added to the fact that he’d dumped hundreds of collars’ worth of power into her tree, she was the one person who might actually be able to give him a fight.

     “Of course,” Vince agreed easily.

     Focusing on his trees, he tried to will energy from him into Elysia.

     Nothing happened at first, of course. His trees were confused and not quite sure to make of his request. Then at once, all three began to rush energy forward into the High Elf.

     Vince looked up into Elysia’s face as her eyes started to widen. He pulled back with all the internal mental power he could, trying to slow it down. Overwhelming the poor thing wouldn’t do him any good.

     It’d piss off Daphne as well.

     After a tsunami-like initial wave, his trees picked up on the context and throttled it all the way down to a manageable level.

     Standing there with his hand on the beautiful High Elf’s chest, he felt a touch self-conscious. Minutes had rolled by and it seemed as if there was no end in sight to how much he could put into Elysia.

     Daphne was the image of confidence and merely smiled at both of them, looking back and forth between them.

     “Daphne.” Vince frowned, looking to the Dryad.

     “Yes, dearest?”

     “Will this hurt our trees?”

     “No, no. If anything, this is good for them. They normally push out large amounts of power when you make waste. There’s only so much that they can process or use.”

     “Elysia, is this hurting you? How much can you or Thera hold, exactly?” Vince asked gently. The High Elf had said nothing and done nothing. Merely stared at him, her pink lips parted.

     The High Elf blinked once and focused on him. “My liege, an Elf’s capacity is endless. It is part of our life essence. Thera uses her pool to strengthen blows and heal wounds. Eva to guide shots and cling to the shadows, as well as for her woodsmanship. I use it for my magic.”

     “Oh. I suppose that’s why you’re all so long-lived, then. Wait, does using magic age you?”

     “We build up reserves and use that rather than what we need to survive,” Elysia said dreamily.

     “Okay. Is that enough to do what we need to?”

     “My liege, you’ve given me more than even the strongest of our kind hold after years of meditation. I have enough to work endlessly for years, never meditating again. And still live a millennium.”

     Thera had been watching from the side. She’d had a concerned look originally, though now she looked only jealous.

     Vince smirked at that and then lifted his hand from Elysia’s chest. “We’ll leave it at that, then. I mark that at about… five minutes. We’ll have to charge Eva at the same level later. Should get to work on Thera next, since she uses it for combat.”

     Elysia gave him a strange smile and nodded her head.

     “You sure that did no harm to the trees, Daphne?”

     Vince looked to everyone around him. Frit and Henry had placed their units accordingly and were ready.

     “If anything, dearest, they’re healthier at this moment than they’ve been in a long time. Be sure to charge Eva today if you can. It’ll give the trees more room to grow.

     “In fact, charge them regularly. Perhaps daily, if you can manage it.”

     Then Daphne gave him a feral grin and came in closer to him. Of the three Dryads, her attention was subtle, flirting, suggestive. She wasn’t as blatant as Karya or as needy as Meliae.

     “To really get the most out of it, you should claim them and put all of that energy into your seed,” Daphne said clearly. She tapped a finger to his sternum. “It’d empower them greatly. As if you’d charged them for hours.”

     Thera and Elysia’s sudden attention was like a physical slap to his forehead.

     Elven hearing was no joke.

     Letting out a small sigh, Vince turned and faced to the east. Everyone kept pushing him to claim the Elves.

     Claiming the Dryads was one thing, but the Elves were an entirely different matter. He’d bought them, and they’d sworn to him under false pretenses. Thinking it would get them better treatment.

     No. He’d not be claiming them.

     Frit’s shaggy head turned one way, then the other. He took a deep snuff of the air. “Lord. Humans near. Horses near.”

     “What?” Vince asked, his eyes scouring the landscape. He pushed his limits and senses. He demanded to know where these horses were.

     There.

     He hadn’t noticed them. They were blended into the backdrop of the distant woods and were motionless. To his eyes, he could count at least two hundred horsemen.

     “Confirmed,” Vince said, the word tasting like ash in his mouth. “Two hundred, give or take. In the tree line. Damn it. Send a runner back, we’ll need spears.”

     Frit barked at one of his men and a Wolfman sprinted off.

     “Elysia, how much can you do with that big dose of magic we put in you?”

     “My liege, I can slay many. The problem, though, is that I sense someone in their midst who can counter me. I hadn’t noticed it until you pointed them out. I apologize for my failure.”

     “Fuck that. Can you overwhelm them?”

     “Yes, my liege. But it would take time.”

     “Okay. Make passive traps, then, things that they can’t counter, and make sure they don’t throw anything back at us.”

     Vince thought on that for a moment. “Can you heal wounds at all?”

     “Not well, but with this surplus, even I can mend flesh.”

     “Frit, Henry, bring the wounded here. Faster, the better. Elysia is going to be our medic. Daphne, would the trees stop me from handing out too much? If they felt it wouldn’t be wise?”

     “Immediately, dearest. They want what’s best for all of us, but they must protect their lives first.”

     Without looking away from the distant enemy, Vince reached up and laid his hand on Elysia’s chest again. “Forgive me, Elysia. But you need to tell me the limit of what you can handle. We need you at the level of an Elven goddess.”

     Vince opened up the flow into her again, turning his head to face her. He didn’t control it at first, and let that massive tidal wave flow right into her.

     Elysia squealed, her hands balling up into fists, but she kept herself upright. She stared into his eyes as magic roiled through her.

     “More, my liege,” she grunted, her blue eyes sparking with lightning.

     Vince prodded the trees to push more. Faster.

     “More,” came the response, the static of electricity coloring the single word.

     Chapter 28

     Vince was watching when both groups fell in together and set off for his position. They were coordinated to a degree.

     He’d gotten lucky this time. They’d underestimated what they’d need to take the east side and overestimated the west side.

     Had this been more of the merc company, he’d have been in serious trouble.

     Elysia stood on one side of him, Daphne the other.

     In front of him was a smoldering Thera. Her entire body was shuddering under the onslaught of magic he was unleashing in her. Steam was actually rising from her head. She stood there, panting, gasping, fighting to remain upright as he filled her. She’d subjected herself to a faster flow than what Elysia had been able to handle.

     There was no time left.

     “Elysia, grab your sister,” Vince said, and then brought the flow down to a trickle.

     The High Elf was there instantly, supporting the Dark Elf. Vince ended the flow completely and removed his hand from Thera’s chest.

     “Lord. So much power,” Thera said through chattering teeth.

     “You did better than Daphne did. Remember? She fainted the first time.”

     Daphne snorted at that.

     Vince looked back out to the rapidly approaching enemy.

     Then he saw who this enemy was.

     Al. Al and everyone he’d broken out of the north with.

     But why? It doesn’t make any sense.

     Vince thought on that, his thoughts chasing it round and round. Thera was rapidly recovering, probably using some of that energy to repair whatever damage the transfer had caused.

     Then it hit him.

     If he was dead, he couldn’t be present to give evidence of Al’s culpability in the events up north.

     Frit and Henry had reorganized their lines when the spears arrived, with Bearmen and Hobgoblins being in the front row, Wolfmen and Orcs in the second, and the Dwarves taking the third row.

     The spears in front would take the bulk of a charge, and normal doctrine would have a horse charge before a rabble of infantry hit. He imagined they’d try to punch a hole in his defense and then split it.

     A lightning bolt from the clear sky appeared above them. It was met in midair by… nothing. It simply ceased to be. There wasn’t even the crack of thunder. It was just gone.

     Then another lightning bolt flashed above the enemy line. Then another, and a third, then a fourth.

     Each one was met and vanished.

     Looking to Elysia, he found the High Elf standing with her hand up. A small smile had blossomed on her face. “I almost had them. They’re strong. I think there might be four of them. I’ll show them the strength of my liege.”

     Lightning bolts began falling uninterrupted onto the enemy ranks, one after another.

     Each was invisibly countered. Until it suddenly wasn’t.

     Three lightning strikes blasted into the enemy line, the thunderclap deafening. Men, women, and horses went down and dirt sprayed up from the strikes.

     Then the bolts were being countered again.

     Elysia growled, grinning with her teeth. “I got one.”

     Vince watched as the cavalry separated from the men on foot, distancing themselves. Al was in the middle of that cavalry charge somewhere.

     “Spears up!” Vince called.

     The cavalry had nowhere to go but straight into Vince. There’d be no wheeling around, no disengage. It was here and here alone.

     “Light the bulwark,” Vince called out.

     Two balls of fire, having formed from the center of Elysia’s hand, launched out and hit the dried stakes. One fireball for each side of the gap, and suddenly the wood was a raging inferno.

     The cavalry was committed; the infantry would be forced to follow.

     A roar came up from the lines of his men in front of him. The cavalry roared back. Then everything was screaming horses and men being flung from saddles. Spears splintering, the crash of weapons.

     His much smaller force did the impossible. They held the line. Here and there, horses and men broke through the line. Too many jammed into one spot had created fractures, though they sealed quickly.

     Thera hadn’t waited for instructions. She was a blur of death, flickering into the line and taking any who came in her range and spitting them on her sword.

     Vince played bodyguard for Elysia as she simultaneously fended off magical attacks and healed those who were brought before her.

     Daphne stayed at his side, her staff held like a spear and ready for anyone to come close.

     Ratfolk, now being able to go about their business, jumped free of their hosts and began an ugly task—killing all those who fell to the grass in that charge. Then they started working on thighs, knees, and calves of horse and man alike.

     They used the corpses of the fallen humans as bunkers and worked their spears deftly, killing in concert with their larger counterparts.

     Swords were drawn as the spears were no longer necessary.

     The battle became a slog between cavalry with nowhere to go, infantry pressing into them from behind, and Vince’s line holding their own.

     A Hobgoblin went down in a spray of blood, followed quickly by an Orc. In the center of his line, something was going wrong.

     Both the Hobgoblin and Orc were dragged from the line and passed backwards rapidly to Elysia.

     Vince chose to act and began shouldering his way to the front.

     “Dearest, no!” Daphne called out, unable to keep up with him.

     Scooping up the shield of the Hobgoblin, Vince pushed into the front. Dwarves continued to work hurriedly to retrieve the wounded behind him as Vince personally plugged the hole.

     Vince found the problem. An Elf. Vince didn’t care what sub-race he was, or even what he was doing here. Only that he had to go before he did more damage to his people.

     Stabbing out with his saber, Vince forced the Elf to back up. To Vince’s left and right, the shield wall held.

     The Elf leapt forward, fast as could be. Vince deflected the strike and returned another stab.

     Caught off guard, the Elf hadn’t expected his strike to be blocked. Vince’s saber caught him low in the hip and slid off.

     The Elf stared death at him even as he reevaluated his position.

     Vince could swear he saw the exact moment the Elf decided to back up and try somewhere else in the line. It was the same moment Vince decided the Elf had to die.

     Pulling on his trees, Vince slid forward two steps and lashed out with his saber in an overhead horizontal swipe.

     Fast as the Elf was, he didn’t even see it coming. The blade separated his head from his neck, and the left foreleg of a horse.

     Stepping backward, Vince slipped in the field and fell heavily on his backside.

     A sword leapt into the space his shield had been and skewered his hand.

     Screaming in pain, Vince lashed out with his saber.

     His shield didn’t feel right in his hand as Vince clambered upright. The shield wouldn’t move exactly as he wanted it to.

     He managed to get it around in time to block an overhead chop from a woodsman’s ax.

     Except that when Vince tried to bring the shield back in, he couldn’t get it up. He couldn’t hold the shield up, and his hand wouldn’t close tight enough to hold it firm.

     He’d made it back to the line, but his shield was worthless. A faceless cavalryman with a sword realized it at about the same time Vince did.

     The soldier was pushing his sword forward in an ugly stab that would skewer Vince. Struggling to get his saber around for a deflection, Vince realized he wouldn’t make it in time.

     Even with the speed and strength offered to him by his trees, it wouldn’t be enough.

     Then Daphne was there, shoving him deeper into the line as she spun forward with her staff. The Dryad glowed with an earthy green aura as she bulldozed into the cavalry man.

     Smashing into the man’s face, the staff rebounded backwards, and Daphne brought it back around in the other direction to club a second man down.

     With a flick of her wrist, her staff came backwards towards a third, then down and around towards a fourth.

     A spear exploded out of her stomach as it was driven through her back. The shaft snapped off when Daphne completed her next turn.

     Her feet tripped over themselves and she stumbled forward into the press of the front line. Then she disappeared under the mass of boots and feet.

     “Daphne!” Vince screamed, trying to get forward into the line again.

     He was violently shoved back, then pulled backwards as everyone realized who he was, and that he had no business in the line.

     Coming free of the press of the line with a suddenness that was jarring, Vince collapsed on his backside.

     “My liege!” Elysia was there, pulling the shield from his arm as Thera disarmed him of his saber.

     Vince looked from Elysia to Thera. “Daphne’s in there, we need to get to her.”

     Thera looked back to the press of bodies in the gap of the flaming stake wall.

     “Thera, it’s my fault,” Vince said softly to the Dark Elf.

     The Dark Elf stared at him for a moment and then set off at a blinding speed.

     Vince slumped onto his back as Elysia pushed on his shoulder. She gripped his left forearm in both hands. Looking at her face, he saw it was a picture of concentration. Desperate concentration as she murmured under her breath.

     Something’s wrong.

     Looking to his left hand, he saw that half of it was missing. His ring finger, pinky, and half his palm weren’t there. Simply gone.

     “No wonder I couldn’t hold a shield.” Looking to said shield, he found a chunk of meat that looked like his palm still mashed into the grip.

     Elysia stood up and looked back to the battle ahead of them. A lightning bolt crashing down from above into the enemy ranks at the rear.

     Vince looked down to his left hand and found that, while it wasn’t whole, it was no longer bleeding. He now only had three fingers on his left hand.

     Standing up slowly, Vince looked around for Daphne or Thera.

     Before he could decide to head back in to find her, Thera popped back into view, dragging an unmoving Daphne behind her.

     The spear had been lost somewhere, though it was apparent to anyone who looked where Daphne had been struck. Blood pumped out of the gaping wound with every beat of her heart.

     She looked like she’d been dipped into a vat of blood.

     “Elysia, do… do what you have to.” Vince paused. She’d been using energy nonstop. She might not even have enough to do this. And he couldn’t channel into her at the same time she was trying to use her magic.

     “If I dump energy into Daphne, can you use that instead of me pumping it into you?” Vince asked, squatting down next to Daphne as Thera dragged her over.

     “Yes, but… but my liege, this is… this is grave. I’m not sure I can—” Elysia made a fluttering motion with her hands.

     “Do all that you can.”

     Vince looked into Daphne’s face. Her green eyes were staring up at him. She gave him a bloody smile, her teeth coated in the red liquid.

     “Sorry, dearest,” Daphne said, trailing into a coughing fit.

     “Hush. No more talking. Only healing. No dying,” Vince said gruffly.

     Placing his hands on her chest, he opened himself up to his trees and begged their assistance.

     Their response was what he’d hoped for. Overwhelming and instinctive.

     Elysia had sat down across from him. She tore off Daphne’s tunic, exposing her entire torso, then laid her hands on top of the wound site. Blood seeped up between her fingers, spreading rapidly over Daphne’s stomach.

     Her eyes started to glow faintly at the sheer magnitude of the power being emptied into her. Then the color began to fade away.

     “Daphne, damn it. No. You have to focus and stay with me here. Karya managed to get me to agree to spend time with just you and her next week. You can’t leave yet,” Vince said glaring down at her.

     Daphne gave him a bit wider of a grin, the glow in her eyes slowly fading to nothing.

     She’s bleeding out. She needs more blood. Elysia can fix the wound, but without blood, it’s pointless.

     Mom’s biology books. Blood. What makes blood? No, not blood. Plasma. Bone marrow.

     Vince grabbed hold of his mental gift, latched on to his trees, and tried to drown himself in the power in his own body.

     Then he tried to focus that raw, unadulterated maelstrom of energy into Daphne’s dying body.

     Specifically, he targeted the bone marrow throughout her body. Demanding that it ramp up blood production.

     Daphne’s eyes lost what little color they had in them, her eyelids fluttering.

     “I can’t stop the bleeding,” Elysia said.

     Damn it, no, damn it, no, damn it, NO!

     Vince felt something break inside himself, and then all the power he’d been bathing himself in rushed out of him. Into nothing.

     “I’ll hold this here,” Thera replied.

     “It won’t stop. I can’t stop it,” Elysia said in a panicked voice.

     Vince felt winded. Then exhausted. Like the river that was his life had run dry.

     Hanging his head, Vince looked to the battle lines. His troops were pushing forward now. The humans were giving ground steadily. Then they broke and started to run.

     “It’s over,” Elysia said with a soft sigh, standing up. Blood dripped from her fingers and stained her dress terribly.

     Vince watched as Frit and Henry chased the humans off for a short distance before returning to the gap. Wounded were gathered up and brought to Elysia, who immediately triaged the situation and set to work.

     “She’s a good healer, dearest.” A warm hand pressed to his cheek, a thumb brushing over his eyebrow.

     Vince looked down to find Daphne smiling at him. Bloody teeth and all. Looking down, he saw her stomach was a twisted mass of scar tissue. It didn’t look like it would hinder her much, but it looked awful.

     Daphne looked down and saw the same thing he did. “Guess I won’t be wearing anything showing off my stomach again.”

     Vince snorted, then started to laugh in between a few choked-off sobs.

     “Idiot. Like I care about scars. I mean, they’ll be calling me lefty here soon,” Vince said, holding up his mangled hand.

     “Maybe you have me beat,” said the Dryad, laying her head down on the grass. “You bound our trees into one.”

     “I what now?” Vince asked, reaching up to brush the hair back from Daphne’s brow.

     “Meliae’s tree, Karya’s tree, and my tree are now connected in a grove-like situation. Beneficial, but dangerous. More for you than us.”

     “Don’t care,” Vince said, and then laid his forehead to hers. “You’re okay?”

     “I’m okay, dearest. Don’t do that again. It hurt,” Daphne complained.

     “I won’t.” Vince gave her a quick peck and then stood up, walking over to Elysia, Thera, Frit, and Henry.

     The High Elf was hunched over a Hobgoblin she’d just put back together. His chest was a mass of scar tissue, but he lived, and looked to be in no pain.

     Elysia glanced up at him as he approached, a pained look in her eyes.

     Frit gave him a salute at the same time Henry did.

     “Lord, minimal losses,” growled Frit. “Perhaps one in twenty slain.”

     Vince didn’t respond, but instead, fell down on his knees next to Elysia.

     “My liege, I’m sorry. I couldn’t save your hand comp—”

     Wrapping her up in his arms, he silenced her. He pulled her in close and tight. Hugging her roughly.

     “Thank you, Elysia. You did more than I could have asked for. Any favor I can grant you is yours. Merely ask,” Vince whispered huskily into the long, pale ear of the woman.

     And he meant it, too. He’d truly believed Daphne had paid the price for his foolishness. He should have let his men do their job.

     The High Elf mage relaxed in his grasp, laying her head on his shoulder.

     “My liege, I have no requests. You’ve given me a home, a family far beyond what I originally had, and a purpose. If I had to ask for anything, it would be to fill me up with your power again when you’re recovered. It was a pleasant experience. I had more power than any other Elf in legend. You only asked me to heal and fight for you. I’ll reward that trust in me. I swear it.

     “Oh, Thera and Eva, too. I have to watch out for my sisters, after all.”

     “Done.”

     Al wasn’t in the mass of corpses. He’d lost half his cavalry here, and most of his infantry. But he himself wasn’t among them.

     Elysia had gotten creative when given time to think on the situation. She used a major portion of the power left to her to raise a stone wall from the south all the way to the north, effectively completing the city wall project.

     It was something no one would have thought of simply due to the power restrictions it had.

     They’d have to add a gate later, and towers, but this was no longer a way in.

     Vince had sent Frit and Henry west to assist with whatever needed to be done there.

     Upon reaching the western wall, he found that they’d fared a little worse than he had, but not terribly.

     Fes, Petra, Meliae, Karya, and Eva had worked together and taken control of the wall and operated it better than he could have.

     There were no wilting heroines here. No princesses needing to be saved.

     He’d been the only one who had needed saving.

     The losses here were one in fourteen. A fraction of the numbers the humans had left behind.

     A member of Kitch’s band by the name of Renzig had fallen. He had held the gate after it’d been blown open with a bomb. The Troll and her crew had been working to clear the wall of ladders and men alike.

     During the performance of his duty, Renzig ended up being struck by another bomb that had been tossed in after the first. It’d been enough to tear through armor and Ogre skin alike.

     Realizing he was going to die, Renzig had wedged themselves against the ruins of the gate, and died there. An Ogre was not something easily moved or shifted. In laying himself out the way he had, he’d bought the time Kitch needed to arrive to block the entrance.

     With no food, as the Ratfolk had taken the order of “use the enemy’s food as a damn toilet” seriously, and wounded to care for, the rabble army fled.

     Goblins cleared the fields on both sides, securing everything and anything usable, and disposing of the rest.

     Vince didn’t ask how they’d disposed of it. He didn’t want to know.

     The battle for Yosemite City ended in victory.

     Epilogue

     Vince walked alongside the wagon as it trundled toward the city. It was hard to believe that these fields had been flooded with blood six weeks past.

     He could see his Gnomish siege engineers watching the horizon from the wall. Their Hobgoblin loaders stood at their side, ready and chatting amiably. Partnerships forged in the furnace of battle.

     An Ogre stood up and could just barely be seen over the wall. It set down a High Elf at the base of a tower and then wandered off as the mage set off in the opposite direction.

     All his Elves were mages at this point. Even the Dark Elves, who were such physical creatures that they had to be retaught how to use the magic.

     Of course, this would happen when you spent a portion of every day charging those very same Elves with all the excess magic you could.

     Apparently his Dryads approved wholeheartedly of the practice, as did the trees. Meliae had made an analogue to “pruning” a tree of its excess.

     The small snippets of conversation and hushed whispers behind him died away.

     “I think they finally believe, Lord,” Thera whispered from his side.

     “My liege, don’t hold their doubt against them,” Elysia agreed.

     “Yes, Master, they didn’t know,” Eva pleaded.

     Vince chuckled and shook his head, casting a glance over his shoulder.

     He’d been four weeks from home. The military had stopped purchasing slaves as army recruits when they’d realized that the enemy in the north would simply capture them, pop their collar off, and turn them back on the Empire.

     So Vince had headed west to purchase supplies, new citizens, and sell products and loot.

     There’d been quite a bit of armor and arms left over from the attack on Yosemite City. Deskil had rejected all of it when Vince asked if he wanted to smelt it down for material. Told him to sell it. It all had a “taint” to it, he said.

     Even including purchasing new citizens, they’d made fifty thousand standards in profit. Apparently Dwarven-made equipment was in high demand by the Empire’s armed forces. Many of the blacksmiths they normally went to in the local area had been killed in the anti-Wastes riots.

     Of course, Vince had only sold them the castoffs that Deskil felt weren’t up to the quality he wanted to give to Vince’s military.

     All told, he was returning with two hundred new citizens of various walks of life. He’d even managed to pick up twenty more Ogres and Trolls. Kitch would be delighted. They were much harder to find, let alone get in such numbers.

     Frit would be happy as well. A new batch of Beastmen tribes to add to his mixed units. Only Henry wouldn’t be quite pleased. He’d specifically asked for more Ratfolk, but there hadn’t been any available.

     Apparently those tiny warriors had impressed their compatriots.

     Vince would be heading out again in four weeks to purchase more citizens, sell more stock, and check in with the Ranger guild.

     He’d given them all the information on the attack on the city, including that he’d seen Al leading it.

     The guild was in a mess right now. They’d lost two outposts in the north, a great deal of trust from the populace, and were being pressured by the Empire.

     They needed more news from Vince like a hole in the head. So they paid him to go on “vacation” for a month.

     “No, I won’t hold it against them. But I will mock them for it later, if the situation arises.”

     “Of course, dearest,” Daphne said amiably. She and Karya rarely left his side now.

     Meliae had remained at home with Fes and Petra. They’d all declined coming with him on the journey and said they’d remain and keep watch over the city.

     He suspected something was afoot but couldn’t put a finger on it.

     As he got closer to the gate, he realized there was a likeness carved into the interior of the archway.

     “Renzig’s Stand,” Vince said aloud, reading the plaque below the magically carved likeness of Renzig. With a nod of his head, Vince approved of it completely.

     Reaching out as he passed, he laid his mangled left hand on Renzig’s shoulder. “Thanks,” Vince murmured.

     Then Vince realized that small plaques had been affixed next to Renzig’s. Each held a name. A name of someone who had fallen in defense of the city.

     “My doing, Sweetling,” Meliae called from the interior exit. “I didn’t think you’d mind.” She gave him a bright smile, holding up her hands to him. “You can punish me if you like it. Or punish me less if you don’t.”

     Vince grinned back at her and hugged her tightly when he got close enough.

     “Good to see you. We’re adding two hundred, give or take. Made money, too.”

     “Mm, my breadwinner,” Meliae purred at him, planting a heavy kiss on his lips.

     Daphne and Karya snickered as they fell in behind Meliae. They still deferred to her in all things.

     The Elves in turn fanned out behind Vince to the side of the road.

     Frit, Henry, and Kitch walked up to him, giving him a crisp salute.

     Vince set Meliae down and returned the salute.

     “Two hundred recruits,” Vince said loudly. “We’ll be popping collars later today. Then assigning dormitories and units. Please come with your lieutenants so we can process them into your units quickly.

     “In your case, Kitch, I got you twenty-three Ogres and Trolls. You’re welcome to attend the collar popping, but I imagine you’ll want to square your people away immediately.”

     “Yes, Lord,” rumbled the big Troll woman. Then she gave him a toothy grin. “Will speak with Master Deskil for equipment. You approve?”

     “I do, Kitch. You and your troop have earned all that I can give and more. And speaking of that, I purchased a gryphon from the beast masters. I want you to see what you can do about turning it into a mount for your people. They’re big enough to carry an Ogre off for a meal, so I figure you can ride them as mounts. If this one works, we’ll buy more.”

     Kitch clapped her big mitts together and rubbed them eagerly. “Lord is good to us. Too good.”

     “Dwarven steel armed and armored, mounted, flying Ogres and Trolls,” Thera said quietly.

     “Should be fun. We’ll have our heavy cavalry unit after all.”

     His captains saluted again and then left, talking between themselves.

     “Husband,” Fes said from behind him.

     Vince managed to turn around before Fes wrapped him up in a bone-crushing hug.

     “Oh, hello to you too, Fes. Miss me?” Vince said, hugging her back.

     “Yes. We did,” Fes said, pressing her forehead into his cheek. She lipped his ear once. “Challenge tomorrow?”

     “Yes, challenge tomorrow. As we agreed,” Vince confirmed, rubbing Fes’s back.

     “Good. Petra claims she can win this time. We shall see,” Fes said. Vince was astounded when Fes turned her head and grinned at the big soldier ant above her.

     They’d grown considerably closer since the night of the challenge, then more after the battle.

     Then Fes turned Vince loose and shoved him towards Petra.

     “This one is eager for the challenge,” claimed Petra, folding herself around Vince with both arms and four of her legs. She was practically hanging on him. “This one missed her master desperately.”

     “You were welcome to come with me. I did offer,” Vince said.

     Petra ducked her head in next to his and stole a kiss from his lips.

     “Pregnant women shouldn’t travel. They also shouldn’t be sparring,” Meliae huffed. “Which is why challenges tomorrow will not be by martial combat.”

     “Mel—”

     “This o—”

     “No! I’ll not have it. End of discussion,” Meliae said firmly, crossing her arms across her chest.

     Fes and Petra both fell silent, but nodded agreement.

     Vince had to replay that exchange in his head once. Meliae was the third of three, yet Fes and Petra deferred to her. She had also said they were pregnant.

     “Ah, I see. Does that mean…?” Vince asked curiously.

     “Yes, Fes has a viable pregnancy. So I’ve allowed Petra’s to begin to grow. Mine as well. Daphne and Karya are holding on to theirs for now. Congratulations, you’ll be a father of three relatively soon,” Meliae said in a clinical tone.

     Fes blinked at that and then turned to Karya and Daphne with a feral grin. “Tomorrow is challenge day. As claimed wives, you will fight for your position. Come, we will discuss this and how you represent our husband and your Fes.”

     Petra fell in beside Fes and the two led Daphne and Karya off.

     “Hm. I’ll make sure nothing funny happens,” Meliae said with a sigh. “See you later, my love. You’re mine tonight. I already paid Fes off to get bumped up in the order,” Meliae admitted. She darted in to kiss him deeply, then patted his chest as she started to pull away.

     “Oh, and did you ever read this?” Meliae asked, fishing an envelope out of her tunic and holding it out to him. “It’s still sealed, so I assumed you hadn’t yet.” Then Meliae was off after the others.

     Eva peered at the envelope. “What’s that, Master?”

     “A letter. From a Ranger in the north. It slipped my mind.”

     Vince flipped over the envelope and broke the seal, then pulled the sheet of paper free.

     Dear Vince,

      

     I hope this letter finds you well. I’m a woman of short words and shorter time, so I’ll make this brief.

     I knew your parents. They were good people. A little odd, but good. I even met you once when you were nothing bit a tyke.

     I hate to call them liars when they cannot defend themselves, but I must. They didn’t head east.

     As you know, the Ranger guild had an outpost up in the north there once. That was actually where your parents met.

     After they left, it fell to the Wastes and no one bothered to try and reclaim it.

     They met with Seville, then headed north into the Wastes up there. I had been there on a business trip when they came through.

     I’m not sure if this helps or not, but it might not hurt to head north and check out the old Ranger outpost up there.

     Because knowing your parents, they probably went there first.

      

     Sincerely,

     Macy

      

     “Lord?”

     “Master?”

     “My liege, are you well?”

     “Ah, yeah. I’m fine. Just… interesting news.” Vince folded the letter carefully and slid it back into the envelope, then handed it over to Elysia. “Please put this with my important correspondence. You can read it later if you like and share with the rest.”

     “Yes, my liege,” said the High Elf, stashing the letter away immediately on her person.

     Wagons kept moving past them as they stood to the side. His new citizens couldn’t keep their eyes in any spot. They looked around in every direction. From person to person. Waster to Waster.

     All moving about with jobs and tasks. Wearing collars but having no humans around. They were all very confused-looking.

     Behind Eva and her sisters were his newest Elves. They were a common commodity in the markets. Hunted, bred, and valued for their magical abilities and intelligence.

     It was fairly horrific.

     Amusingly enough, with this new group, the number of Elves in his employ was in the nineties. Doubly amusing was the fact that by sheer luck they were relatively balanced in numbers as far as subspecies.

     The clatter of talons on stone got his attention as a Wolfman slid to a stop in front of him.

     “Lord, from the east. People approach.”

     “East?” Vince asked. Shaking his head, he gestured at the messenger. “Right behind you. Lead on.”

     Vince turned back to his Elves.

     “Take your new family members aside and teach them the ropes,” Vince said, looking at the three sisters. “Not much left to do today until later.”

     Elysia and Eva looked to Thera. She shook her head and then pointed at the Elves.

     “Ask for directions to the Manor. You’ll be sorted out,” Thera explained.

     All three Elves turned back to him.

     A sigh slipped out as he turned to head east at a fast walk.

     When he got there, the gate was open and he could see a small group of people heading his way.

     They couldn’t have been more than a hundred feet out at this point.

     At such a short distance, he was fairly certain they were Elves. Their hair coloring would indicate High Elves or Wood Elves.

     Vince passed through the gate and continued right on through to the other side.

     Behind him trailed a mixed unit of Frit’s. Beyond that, he could hear the heavy clatter of metal distantly.

     Stopping thirty feet outside of his wall, Vince waited.

     They were indeed High Elves, with a few Wood Elves mixed in for good measure.

     “Summon your slave master, I would speak with this abomination’s leader,” grumped a High Elf male who epitomized the clichés. Arrogant, handsome, and graceful.

     “You’re looking at him. What can I do for you?” Vince asked, his eyes sorting through the twenty-some odd guests.

     “Die.”

     A ball of fire skipped across the distance between them and vanished. Then a lightning bolt vanished above Vince’s head.

     Two more fireballs hurtled towards him and a rather large boulder that was ripped from the ground—only for the fireballs to vanish and the boulder to be sent spinning southeast, rolling away on the grass.

     “Your pet did well. I don’t think she can handle another round. Surrender and she need not suffer.”

     Vince held up a hand towards the High Elves as Elysia stepped forward.

     She was a bookworm until provoked. Then she made Fes look timid.

     “I think you have a false impression of what’s going on here—”

     “Do you not own everyone here? That’s the tale we heard.”

     Behind him, he could hear Kitch getting closer. She wouldn’t tolerate this if she was here. He’d have to finish this up quick.

     “I am indeed the master here. I purchased everyone here and th—”

     “Then die.”

     Another slew of magic disintegrated as if nothing happened.

     Elysia’s eyes had started to crackle with lightning. She had a preference for electricity.

     “I-I don’t understand.”

     Vince glanced backwards as Kitch exited the gate. “Well, I recommend you act like a dignitary from here on out. My Troll captain doesn’t take kindly to people who are rude.”

     “Rude?” said the man.

     “Yes. Rude. Now. As I was saying. Elysia, would you be so kind?”

     “My liege, I will gladly smite them in your name,” said the High Elf. She stepped forward and brought her hand up.

     Everyone in the opposing party had a bolt of lightning reach out for them. Then a second as the first was stopped. Then a third.

     “Stop! Elysia, stop. I was going to ask you to show them your collar. They think you’re bound,” Vince said, laying a hand on her forearm.

     In the time it took him to get her to stop, half of the High Elves had collapsed or fallen to their knees.

     Elysia looked to Vince, then the High Elf who had spoken so haughtily to them.

     “My liege is merciful. You should die,” Elysia said as if she were looking at a worm.

     Deftly, she removed her collar and waggled it at the other group. As if to confirm the point, Eva and Thera did the same.

     “As you see. Everyone here wears a false collar. Yes, I purchased everyone here. Then freed them and gave them jobs and a home.”

     Kitch stomped up to him, sword unsheathed and glaring murder at the visitors.

     “It’s alright, Kitch. Elysia gave them a lesson in manners. We’re merely talking now.”

     Kitch growled deeply, menacingly. Then she turned her head to Elysia and ducked her head.

     “Now, what can Yosemite City do for you today?” Vince asked the High Elf male he’d been conversing with. “And if you say die again, I’m going to tell Kitch to eat you.” He paused. “Wait, would you eat him, Kitch?”

     “For you, Lord. Sometimes upset stomach. Magic.”

     “Ah, makes sense. So? Are you lunch, or a polite dignitary of an Elven tribe come to seek something of Yosemite City?”

     The High Elf looked from Elysia, who was re-buckling her collar, on to Kitch. “Even the Troll?”

     Vince looked up at Kitch and smiled for her. “Who, Kitch? Yes. Even her collar is for show. She doesn’t like taking it off, though.”

     “No. Lord’s collar.”

     “I would like to request the gift of guest rights,” said the humbled High Elf.

     “Granted. Thera, could you see they’re taken care of?”

     “A Dark Elf?!” the High Elf said, as if only now noticing her.

     “Hm? Yes. She, Elysia, and Eva—she’s the Wood Elf there—are my bodyguards, companions, and chamberlains. They manage everything here, really. Be lucky it wasn’t one of them I asked to help out. I don’t think I can reattach limbs and things.”

     Thera and Eva were simply next to the High Elves in the next instant.

     “We will take care of your needs for our lord,” Thera said gravely.

     Eva nodded her head, circling around behind the group.

     Vince shook his head and turned to Elysia. “Anything you need to do?”

     Elysia looked at him and then slowly smiled at him. Then she reached out to tap his chest with the ledger she carried with her at all times. “I shall remain. You can’t function without me.”

     “True enough. Alright, notetaker, let’s see how good you really are. I need to find the dresses we bought for Petra, Fes’s new armor, and Meliae’s plants. Which wagon is that all on?” Vince asked, gesturing vaguely back at the city.

     “I know exactly which one it’s one, my liege. It’s with the other presents you purchased.”

     “I purchased other presents?”

     “Of course. I bought them for you on your behalf,” Elysia said, flipping open her ledger. Thera and Eva trooped by with their new charges. Kitch eyed them balefully as her troop did the same.

     “That’s great. Did I buy anything for you?” Vince asked, grateful for the High Elf.

     “You did. A beautiful chess set and a silver tea service. You were very kind.”

     “Oh, those do sound pretty nice. Would you like to get all these presents and then go play a match? Have some tea? I’m sure you’ll stomp me out, but it’ll be fun, I hope.”

     “I will indeed beat you, my liege, and I’m sure it’ll be fun. I promise to still respect you in the morning, though,” Elysia said, looking up at him from her ledger.

     Vince blinked at that and then grinned.

     They’re all getting so much more lively.

     End of Book One

     Chapter 1

     Vince sat upright, taking a sudden deep breath. His eyes darted around, his brain struggling to catch up.

     The fog slowly cleared from his mind. Setting his head back to the wall, he felt his mouth turn up into a small smile.

     He was in the school. All around him were desks and chairs of various sizes.

     Being such a mixed community his carpenters had built a vast array of chair types to accommodate any race’s progeny.

     He’d been doing a walk-through to see how things were going. He’d gotten curious about the progress of the school.

     That curiosity more than likely stemmed from traveling in the west, doing another round of purchases and sales.

     Vince had joined the class, sat down, and propped himself against the warm glass. The sun shone on his back as he listened to the deep, gentle drone of Crus the Centaur teaching the history lesson for the day.

     History was interesting to him, but they were covering a story he’d heard previously in his life. A history lesson for kindergartners about how the Waste came into existence.

     He’d managed to stay awake as they discussed the experiments that ripped open the world and created the Wastes. It was about the time that the crusades were being launched that he’d slipped into slumber.

     Standing up he shook his head.

     More tired than you thought, fool.

     “A good number of the school children wanted to sleep next to you, Master,” Eva said. She was a few feet from him, sitting against the wall. “Crus managed to convince them to go to their next lesson.”

     Vince nodded his head and then yawned. Stretching his arms above his head it felt like his jaw was going to unhinge. “Did I sleep long?”

     “Long enough, Master, for the Dryads to come sniffing you out. I drove Daphne and Meliae off, but if Karya comes I do not think I can keep her back. She’s less likely to listen and far more persistent.”

     Vince dropped his arms and nodded his head. “Yeah, she’d have me halfway undressed before she realized we weren’t alone.”

     Looking down he gave himself the once over and found everything as it should be.

     “Thanks, Eva. I appreciate it.” Vince pressed a hand to his neck and worked it to one side with a satisfying pop. “Where are your sisters? I should probably check in with Elysia.”

     Eva smiled faintly at that and then got to her feet.

     She twisted to one side, stretching her lithe athletic body in ways that only an Elf could look graceful in doing. Then, with a toss of a brown braid over her shoulder, she looked to him with warm eyes

     “My sisters are waiting for you outside. I believe they’re sparring.”

     Eva had been the one most resistant to the idea that she could ever truly be familial with other races of elves. Her Wood Elf heritage set her at fatalistic odds with other Elves. That’d changed some six and a half months ago during the battle of Yosemite City.

     Since then, she’d been nothing if not a caring little sister, being the youngest of the three.

     “Ha, she getting any better?” Vince shook his arms out, then started for the door.

     “She could probably keep someone back long enough that one of us could get to her, Master.” Eva ghosted into place beside him, taking up the position on his left.

     Vince found himself smirking at the idea of the High Elf wielding a blade. Thera and Eva had both browbeaten her into the training.

     For her own safety.

     Being a mage was well and good, but knowing a sword in addition would only be a help.

     Personally, he suspected they just wanted her to spend more time with them. From his own view point, Elves were fiercely loyal to what they viewed as theirs.

     Home, hearth, and family.

     Stepping outside of the school Vince took in a deep breath. The air was clean, brisk, and with a bite to it. Winter was fading, and soon, the Wastes would be open to travel again.

     Need to start planning that trip. Before they send another contingent of “diplomats” to come talk to us. Don’t really need to house another group of snooty High Elves. Kitch damn near ate them last time.

     Elysia and Thera both turned in place from where they were working. Elysia looked like she’d been going through her footwork with Thera’s expert advice. She insisted on giving her personal instruction.

     Where Eva was tanned, short of height, and brown eyed, Elysia was tall, blonde, pale, and blue eyed.

     Thera was of course their contrast, being ashen skinned, black haired with black eyes, and had a height that was in the middle ground.

     One could never mistake them as anything other than Elves though.

     Both women paused in sparring and began to make themselves ready to leave.

     Vince gave them a tired smile as he approached, looking from one to the other.

     “So much for taking a tour to see how everything is,” Vince said apologetically.

     Elysia glanced up at him as she settled her ledger under one arm, then gave him a crooked grin. “Have no fear, my liege, we’ve already completed the tour on your behalf.”

     “Indeed, Lord, all is as it should be. You need not worry,” Thera said, checking the catch over her sword after sheathing it.

     “Oh? Wonderful, give me the short version?” Vince asked as he turned back to look at the school.

     It was an impressive building to be sure. Built while he was away, it’d taken on a life of its own.

     Not really a school, is it.

     Built in a fashion more similar to a mansion with multitudes of classes, labs, and libraries, it was a massive building.

     His carpenters and masons had outdone themselves, stating that it would be the place the young of generations would learn. So they needed to make a place that would survive generations.

     “Frit reports that everything is on track. He’ll be ready for the next batch of recruits as well, Lord,” Thera said, her wrists crossing behind her back. “Henry reports the same, though he mentioned he’s put in a requisition for a mock battle. He’d like to have his people do a run on Frit’s.”

     Vince nodded at that. It wouldn’t be a bad idea. They’d have to have the Dryads and Elves on hand for medical duty when it ended. Deaths simply wouldn’t be likely with blunted wooden weapons. Broken bones, cuts, and other horribleness would definitely be a problem though.

     “Alright. What are you three’s thoughts on that?” Vince turned from the school and began walking to the east at a sedate pace. The road lead onward, away from the “school” grounds.

     “Wait for the next batch of recruits to be trained up. That way we can plan it accordingly and get the most return, Lord.”

     “Master, I agree. It would be best to go ahead with it, but delay it.”

     “From a magical standpoint, my Liege, it would be prudent to wait. It’ll give everyone time to charge up accordingly. Especially now that you’re not allowed to charge us all up as much as you used to.”

     Vince felt a slight flutter in his stomach at the reminder.

     A month ago, the trees living inside of him had been unable to power up the Elves to the same level that he used to.

     Where before he could put them at a level that would have taken them a year to reach in minutes, he could only give them the equivalent of a month or two.

     Meliae had explained it well enough, he just wished it wasn’t so.

     In converting his three trees into a grove, he’d limited the amount of power that would be available to him. Though he significantly increased the resilience of the trees, the power to the Dryads, and their inherent strength.

     From that point of view, it’s still worth it. Daphne is alive and well.

     Sighing, Vince could only nod his head. Turning off the road that led to the school, he entered the city’s streets. Around him went to and fro the citizens of Yosemite.

     His citizens.

     Those who depended on him for guidance and the leadership to maintain their freedom.

     They carried bundles, walked idly, or in a few cases, jogged to wherever their day was taking them.

     None passed him without casting a look and a nod of acknowledgment. Everyone respected his wish that they only give him the barest of shows of respect when he wasn’t operating in an official capacity.

     People had work to do, and having them bowing and scraping would only waste precious time.

     “What else?” he asked, prompting someone to continue the debrief.

     “Kitch reports her people are progressing with the Gryphons. It’s slow, but… it’s working, Lord. However, I’m not sure the investment time is worth it. It’s been months and they’ve had only the smallest amounts of success.”

     Vince frowned and scratched at his cheek. He wasn’t sure what to say to that. He didn’t tame or train animals.

     He had no patience for it.

     “My Liege, I agree with my sister, but I would say that the time spent per each training will decrease. It’ll go down with each successive targeted generation. They’re pack animals and we’re using that to our advantage. Their life cycles are slow, but that’s where we’ve seen what success we have.”

     “The first ones born in captivity?” Vince asked, not completely unaware of the irony.

     “Yes. As we Elves have experienced first hand, my liege, being bred and born to something increases the results dramatically with each successive generation.”

     “Alright. Anything else?” Vince turned at the intersection, his destination becoming clear to everyone. His own home was on the north end of the city.

     Yosemite had been built up around it.

     “Nothing that needs to be discussed at this time, my Liege. Everything else is exactly as you would expect.

     “The only thing that needs to be done is the expedition into the Wastes to see the Verix tribe of High Elves. Though I suppose it’s more of a city state. If we could open trade with them, especially for food, that’d really help.”

     Vince didn’t say anything at first. He didn’t really want to.

     With so many new faces and citizens, their food was being stretched dangerously thin. Things weren’t looking like they’d get better in the immediate future either.

     Long term we’re alright, short term it hurts.

     I just wish it wasn’t Verix.

     They’d annoyed him with their entrance. Their attack on him. How they conducted themselves. He honestly would have been happy to feed them to Kitch and her band.

     But he had to think of the long term plan. And how relationships with their eastern neighbors could be a blessing or a curse.

     Which meant an expedition trip to see the city of Verix and try to begin negotiations.

     He wasn’t foolish enough to simply head into their city and start up a conversation, no. First would be a neutral area. A meeting between the two leading elements for each.

     Per the original conversation with the ambassadors from Verix, it’d be a group of five from each group. The location would be in an open field south of Mono Lake in the Wastes.

     Vince wasn’t one to play by the rules though. Not with people who started negotiations by attacking him.

     Immediately after the ambassadors left, he set a trio of scouts on them.

     A Ratfolk, a Wolfman, and a Fairy. The three would be able to watch their prey, their surroundings, and work during any hour.

     They were under orders to track the Elves back to their city, then stake out the area the meeting would be held at. If there was nothing out of the ordinary, they’d be setting up and keeping an eye on the area. Should they find something that proved to be dangerous or dishonest, they were to return immediately.

     He had no illusions about this situation. It would be beneficial, but it wasn’t needed.

     “Alright. Do I need to do anything or have you already set up the expedition?” Vince asked, looking over to Elysia with a grin.

     “Indeed I have, my liege. Eva and I will be accompanying you. As well as Daphne and Karya.

     “Thera will remain to keep our family together and make sure Yosemite runs smoothly in our absence.”

     He grunted at her list. It was pretty much everyone from his inner circle who could travel.

     It’s not like Fes, Petra, or Meliae can go anywhere being as pregnant as they are.

     Up ahead was a twelve foot high wall that ran the outer perimeter of what was his home. Rising up behind that wall, looming impressively, was his house.

     Mansion now, really.

     It’d been expanded to three times its original size, and he was fairly certain there were plans to expand it again once the next set of pregnancies had been figured out.

     An entire squad of Frit’s people stood at the gate, while another several squads were spread out all along the wall on guard.

     Frit took Vince’s security seriously.

     The ranking squad member at the gate unlocked it and swung it open for him.

     “Welcome home,” said the big Bearman in a growling voice.

     Vince nodded his head in thanks and passed through the gates.

     Arranged on the front porch were three very pregnant women.

     Berenga sat in a chair on the deck, his Orc Fes, or first wife. A warrior who trained and lived each day on how she could improve her skills, build her clan’s strength, and add to her husband’s power.

     Her black hair wasn’t pulled up in her standard warrior’s knot. Instead, it was gathered loosely behind her head and flowed down her back. Those dark black eyes pierced him through when she saw him, her lips forming a smile.

     On the Orc’s right, in the position of Second, was Petra.

     She was seated in a chair specially developed for her soldier-ant body. Due to her non-humanoid dimensions the carpenters had taken it on themselves to build something just for her.

     The armor she usually wore had been put away months ago when she couldn’t fit into it anymore, and she’d let her blonde hair begin to grow out, pulling it into a ponytail. She gave him a quick glance with her blue eyes, acknowledging him, but returned her attention to the Dryads beside her.

     The trio of Dryads resembled each other on some levels. They all possessed bodies that caught a man’s attention. They also shared a pair of green eyes that bore into a man’s libido and would stoke the desire of any. Beyond those traits, they differed quite a bit.

     Daphne was the tallest, reaching Vince’s own six foot height, with blonde hair cut short. She had an hourglass frame though her shoulders were fairly broad. Her specialties were combat and controlling nature directly.

     A step down on the height scale was Karya, who favored passive magic and understanding creatures. She was a curvy specimen of Dryad, with a bigger bust than either of the other two. Her hair was brown with light brown streaks and spilled down over her shoulders in smooth waves.

     The shortest, though given a perfect hourglass figure, was Meliae. Her white silky hair was pulled back in a braid, and her smile was ever-present lately.

     Meliae’s eyes caught him and stole him away, the greens of her irises slowly taking over the pupils with a faint glow.

     There goes that sex magic that all Dryads seem to have.

     In response, he could feel his body revving up immediately. Meliae never spared him and doused him with the sex mojo at every opportunity.

     As if reading his mind, and his growing desire, she turned herself sideways to him.

     Biting her lower lip, she pulled her chin down, almost peeking up at him through her eyelashes as she pressed her dress down to her body. The fabric clung to her and left nothing to Vince’s imagination. It emphasized her greatly swollen stomach and full heavy breasts.

     As if to show off what he’d done to her. Being directly responsible for putting her in this condition.

     Vince shook off the sexual fog she’d knocked him into when he damn near tripped over the first step.

     “Glad to know your pregnant wives still drive you to distraction, Sweetling. We worry when you finally claim the Elves you’ll forget all about us,” Meliae said, her voice full of mischief.

     “As if I’d forget any of you.” Vince grinned, stepping up onto the deck.

     Fes levered herself up and came over to him, giving him a tight hug and a firm kiss. Her severe personality hadn’t been blunted in any way, but she was never afraid to show him affection as well as lust in public.

     Releasing him she reached up and pressed a hand to his face. Looking down he laid a hand to her own stomach. Fes gave him the once over with her black eyes and then nodded her head, moving back to her chair.

     Taking her own reward in her fashion, Petra stood and scooped Vince up with her first two legs. Then she pressed him into her human torso, crushing him with her arms.

     “This one missed her master,” she whispered, pressing her face into his neck.

     Unable to help himself, Vince laughed. Petra could manhandle him at her leisure, though she reserved it for when they were in the bedroom, or if her emotions built up.

     “Missed you, too, my little soldier. Put me down before the Dryads try to hack me down.”

     Vince gave her a tender kiss as she eyed him from an inch away.

     “This one agrees. The Dryads have been acting up today. This one traded her night with Meliae so that they might calm down.” Petra set him down carefully, her hands brushing over his shoulders and chest as she did so.

     A hand snagged his collar as his boots hit the ground and pulled him over.

     Karya pulled his head down into her neck and hugged him tightly, running her fingers through his hair. Then she stole a kiss and passed him off to Daphne.

     The big Dryad plastered him with a firm kiss, then handed him off to Meliae.

     Who promptly buried herself in his arms and squirmed up against him. Getting comfortable, she laid her head down to his chest.

     “You’re mine tonight, Sweetling. We have a special surprise for you, too. Since you’ll probably be leaving in a few days to head to the east,” Meliae whispered.

     Vince smiled and patted his little Dryad on the back. More than all of them, she doted on him extensively. To the point of spoiling him. She’d also taken on the role as confidant and fence mender for the entire group.

     “Be sure to shame me. I want to feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment for days. Make me scream so your pretty Elves hear it and wish it were them.

     “Oh, or better yet, they can watch you use me. Unmake me and put me back together as your toy.

     “Even better! They can watch nude, so I can watch them,” Meliae said, turning her head to face the Elves.

     Nymph. Broken, Nymph.

     Vince grinned as the other two Dryads nodded their heads eagerly in agreement. Their eyes flickering immediately as Meliae’s idea formed in their heads.

     Broken Nymphs.

     Chapter 2

     Vince stared out at the city from his deck.

     Everyone had dinner together and had retreated to whatever tasks they individually needed to complete.

     Thera, Eva, Daphne, and Karya had gone back to their rooms to turn in for the night. Fes and Petra had done likewise, having been going to bed earlier as of late.

     On his left was Elysia; on his right, Meliae.

     All the nocturnal species that lived in the city started to move about. Going about whatever job or duty they had.

     The Ratfolk were an especially well respected species in Yosemite. Much to their own surprise.

     They fought with their compatriots in Frit’s ranks. In addition the Ratfolk performed all scouting functions assigned to them with great aplomb.

     On the civil side, they scurried through the streets at night, clearing away trash, litter, and debris. The citizenry would pack up all their trash waste into wooden bins. These bins were collected by the Ratfolk, sifted for anything they wanted, anything that could be reused, repaired, or re-purposed, and they then happily burned the rest in a cave.

     The soot and coal fragments were taken off for ink and pencils, the ash distributed into the plains west of the city.

     Warriors by day, janitors by night.

     Vince was watching as a swarm of Ratfolk carted off a horde of wooden bins to process and handle.

     “The Ratfolk wanted me to convey their thanks again to you, my liege. They also reported another ten litters successfully birthed. All living and healthy. They’re going to slow down their population after this, of their own volition no less,” Elysia said, her eyes watching the Ratfolk as well.

     “I see,” Vince said softly. “Elysia, I don’t think you should go on the trip with me.”

     The High Elf sat up straight and turned to him. Before she could open her mouth he held up a hand.

     “If I were to fall, you’re the only one I could trust to maintain the city without me. Only you. I can’t afford to take you with me this time. I just can’t.”

     Elysia frowned, her brows drawing down dangerously. She opened her mouth and then closed it again. “Truly?” she asked finally.

     “Truly. You need to start training up a replacement for yourself. There should never be a position with no redundancy. Think on it. I’ll take Karya, Eva, and Thera with me.

     “Daphne will remain here to act as your bodyguard while I’m away. We’ll be fine with the four of us. I’ll take one of the scouts with me after we meet up with them.”

     Elysia’s features began to slowly smooth out, her head dipping down. “I understand, my liege.”

     “Sorry, Elysia. You’re too valuable to me to risk. Please understand it isn’t because I don’t trust you, or need you, it’s because I think so highly of you.”

     The downbeat Elf nodded her head and then stood up. “Forgive me, I think I’d like to sleep now. Good night, my liege.”

     “Sleep well, Ellie,” Meliae said to the Elf with a smile. “All will be alright.”

     The Elf blinked and looked to the Dryad. With a nod of her head she left them.

     “She worries. She fears you’ll claim Eva and Thera but not her on your return, Sweetling.” Meliae said, shifting her weight around in the chair. “And before you answer that, let me pose a situation to you.”

     Vince closed his mouth, he’d been halfway to denying he’d be taking any of the Elves at all.

     Seeing him waiting she gave him a warm smile. “Thank you.”

     Sighing she rubbed a hand across her large stomach. Where Fes and Petra seemed to carry their added weight easily, Meliae truly ballooned out.

     “You have created a situation where the Elves are, more or less, your hands and mouths. The only place that isn’t true is the military. You’ve created a very strong meritocracy at every level, except those who interact with you.

     “And before you get defensive, this isn’t a bad thing. At least I don’t think so.”

     Meliae brushed her fingers up and down her own sides as she grew silent for a moment. As if thinking out her words.

     “Elves are great mediators. Facilitators, movers, middle men. Especially the ones you managed to acquire. Almost all of them were bred and born to manage large households.

     “Now, what would happen if you were to die? And die you will, my love. You’ll live very long, because of the grove, but eventually that power will wane.

     “Your children will pick up the mantle. That’s simply how it will be. Your citizens will see that as right and proper.”

     Vince screwed up his face as he thought about that. Leaning forward he put his chin in his palm, his elbow resting on his knee.

     “Forgive me, Sweetling. But that’s just how it is.

     “Now, the Elves will turn to serve your children. They will eventually fulfil the role they were created for. Household Elves. They won’t interbreed with the other races, though they’ve already started breeding amongst their own sub-races.

     “What if three of their number were elevated. They become child bearers. Rather than house Elves, they simply became family.

     “If ever you wanted to bind the Elves to our family in an unbreakable way, claiming those three Elves would do it. They would rabidly die for your progeny, even the non-Elven half brothers and sisters as they would still be ‘family’, if you should claim the Elves.

     “Even if you only wanted to provide a life of love and children for Thera, Eva, and Elysia, as they will never seek out another, you should claim the Elves.”

     Vince grumped internally at it. Everyone was pushing him to simply wed and bed them.

     They were beautiful creatures. He flirted with them. Teased them on occasion. Often he found himself thinking of them sexually.

     He was only a stupid man after all.

     “You’re the only one dragging their feet, Sweetling. Those Elven maidens wait every night with an unlocked door in the hopes you’ll visit them. Even Fes is tired of waiting. She mentioned to me that she would bring it up to you soon.”

     “Fine, I’ll think on it.”

     “Good. Thank you. Now, a new subject, equally important.”

     “Ok?” Vince asked carefully, his eyes moving back up to the city streets.

     “Our grove. I want it to be stronger.

     “Daphne, Karya, and I are starting to run out of time in the day to act as midwives and nurses to all the pregnancies in our community. I’m going to need help soon. Especially when our little ones arrive.”

     “Yeah, I can definitely agree to that. You three are starting to get run ragged. And it’d be nice to power the Elves up to insane levels again. Was fun turning them into things out of myth and fantasy.”

     “Mm, I’m glad to hear you say that. It can be done. Easily too. There’s a cost involved though.”

     “I wouldn’t expect that to be otherwise. That’s true in all things. How bad are we talking here?”

     “Rather cheap, honestly. We just have to recruit more Dryads. The more Dryads in the grove, the more power we’ll have. Get enough, and you’ll become immune to old age. A grove is simply a gathering of Dryads in defense of their trees. Most groves start with two Dryads who find themselves close together without intending to be.”

     Vince made a non-committal noise. Dryad society was strange to him, but it made sense.

     “Dryads will often find life-partners in each other since their lives can be so long. Mother said she’d tried it once, but found she quarreled with her Dryad lover often over men. They had different tastes. She moved on when her tree produced a new seed.

     “I personally never considered it, but Karya and Daphne were in the process of attempting a grove. They just needed a man to share that would seed both of them. It increases the power of the grove when both Dryads use the same man.”

     “Huh. That’s actually all rather interesting. How does that apply to us since I’m your grove and tree?”

     “It’s actually simpler, but we’ll get to that next. First, we need more Dryads. I’d like to put out a purchasing party for the human lands, a search party for the woods, and a hunting party for the Wastes to go round up Dryads and make them the offer to join our grove.” Meliae sighed and pressed a finger to her full lower lip. “I’m going to be picky though. I only want Dryads who are free of other men. Which means it’ll end up being all young ones with their first tree or seed. Which…” Meliae trailed off, uncertainty written clear on her face when Vince looked at her.

     “Which…?”

     “Back to your earlier question. How they join the grove. You cut yourself open, just like the last time, and they put in their seed.”

     “Seems simple enough.”

     “Then you put your seed in them. They’ll be concubines, basically.”

     “Oh,” Vince said brilliantly. “So… I get to play one-night stand with a number of Dryads?”

     “Something like that. You’d have to re-fertilize them every few months, but not too often.”

     “And you’re alright with that? Fes is?” Vince asked. He was watching her now, looking for anything that could give him a hint about her feelings.

     “Fes thinks it’s a good idea. It would give me more power and you as well,” Meliae said carefully.

     “And you?”

     “I… I want to give you more power. I want to make the grove strong. Strong enough to weather anything.”

     “And?”

     “And… I’m afraid. I’m afraid at a level that I know is just insecurity, that isn’t real and is completely just a stupid worry.”

     “Afraid of what?”

     “That you’ll find a Dryad you like better than me. That I’ll be replaced as mistress of the grove. I’m a young Dryad, Vince. There are some out there who could pleasure you in ways I can’t even think of.”

     Chuckling, Vince reached over and laid his hand on her knee. “Don’t worry about that. You’ll always be my ‘mistress’ as it were. If it makes you feel better, you could restrict it to only Dryads on their first tree and seed and free of other men. Provided I agree to the added Dryads.”

     Meliae nodded with a grin, her face clearing up instantly. Her eyes glowed softly as she looked at him.

     “Let me think on it.”

     Elves and Dryads.

     “All of it. You’re basically telling me I need to spread my seed far and wide like a weed. It’s a lot to take in.

     “I mean, don’t get me wrong. I’m a man. Sounds like some sexy fun good times. But in the same breath.” Vince finished with a sigh, turning his gaze out on the city.

     Meliae got up slowly, the chair creaking as she moved.

     “I understand. Come along, husband. Thinking on this can wait. Time to enjoy yourself for the evening before you journey. If I don’t miss my guess you’ll be leaving tomorrow,” Meliae said, pressing a kiss to his temple as she passed.

     Vince blew out a breath in his hand.

     Meliae never steered him wrong when it came to these things. She didn’t have a head for war, battle, politics, or strategy, but when it came to family and friends, she was supreme.

     Sitting there for a few more minutes he realized she was right. He’d solve nothing right now.

     Getting up he shook his head.

     A decision for another time.

     Deep in thought, Vince didn’t shake his mind free until the door to his bedroom closed behind him.

     In his bed were all three of his Dryads.

     Naked.

     And already occupied.

     Karya was at the head of the bed, laying on her back with her legs spread wide. Her green eyes watched him, glowing strongly, a smile curling her lips. She dragged her tongue across her lower lip, and then the upper one.

     The back of Meliae’s white haired head was pressed between Karya’s pale lovely thighs, and Karya’s fingers were curled in Meliae’s hair. Karya ground her hips back and forth, pressing herself into Meliae’s face.

     Meliae’s rear end was raised up in the air, presenting him a great view of her slit. Which was being worked over by Daphne’s tongue. The big Dryad was on her back, her shoulders wedged up against Meliae’s knees.

     Her tongue dove in, slithered around, and worked back and forth through Meliae’s pale pink lips.

     As if sensing him, Daphne paused in her ministrations to peer out from between Meliae’s privates. She gave him a sultry smile, her chin glistening.

     “Right here, dearest. Put it in right here,” Daphne murmured, showing him where by pressing a kiss to Meliae’s dripping entry. “All aboard your personal Dryad train.”

     No one would ever need to tell him twice to get on board.

     Vince stripped himself in a heartbeat and got down on his knees behind Meliae. She shuddered as Daphne continued to lick and slurp at her, Meliae in turn servicing Karya diligently.

     Daphne’s hand snuck up and snatched his member and angled it down towards her mouth. Wrapping her wet lips around the tip, she inhaled it, giving it several quick pumps of her head.

     Coating it liberally.

     “Mm, I got the first lick,” she said teasingly, as she released him from her mouth. Meliae and Karya made soft sounds of annoyance but said nothing in return. Grabbing hold of his shaft again, she guided him into Meliae.

     Enjoying the personal attention, Vince pushed forward, driving himself deep into her.

     Meliae arched her back, pushing her bottom into him, moaning deeply into Karya.

     “Look over here, darling. Watch me while you break it off in her. I want to pretend it’s me,” Karya pleaded, her fingers tightening on Meliae’s head. “Watch me while I make her eat me.”

     Pressing his hands to Meliae’s hips, Vince started to pound away at Meliae’s bottom and thighs. Driving it home into her as he worked himself through her channel.

     Daphne’s tongue slid over his shaft, hilt, and balls. She was licking and sucking at anything she could get a hold of with her mouth.

     Meliae’s grunts and moans were lost in Karya as Vince stared into her eyes.

     Karya’s eyes were a deep glowing green, her pupils long since gone as she watched her man service another Dryad who was in turn servicing her.

     Meliae lifted her head up from Karya’s sopping privates, panting. “Change. Please, change,” she said, her inner walls quivering around him in apparent climax.

     Karya and Daphne moved, pulling him back from Meliae. Then they all shifted one spot down in their train. Daphne was at the head now, Karya in the middle, and Meliae down below.

     “Dearest, please, break me with your eyes as you destroy this foul Dryad as she eats me out,” Daphne begged, her chest heaving with panting breaths.

     Karya wiggled her bottom at him tantalizingly as she lowered her head down to Daphne’s thighs. “That’s right, break your foul-mouthed Dryad darling. Make me scream.” Then she fell silent and the sounds of slurping took over.

     Meliae said nothing, instead she snatched his shaft into her hand and started sucking on it hard, her hands cradling him.

     “No cheating, Mel. Put him in,” Daphne called from the top.

     With a soft sigh, Meliae released him and slid him into Karya, her tongue going straight up to his taint.

     Before she could get any further up, he drove it home into Karya, then leaned forward over the top of her. Reaching forward with one hand he pressed her head firmly into Daphne, his other hand digging into her side.

     Karya moaned, not fighting him in any way. She never fought him like Meliae or Daphne did, but she wanted to be owned more viscerally in return.

     He could feel Meliae’s tongue slipping and sliding over him and where it met with Karya as his hips cracked into her ass.

     Karya didn’t even last thirty seconds before her mewling moans turned into desperate cries.

     “Change, change, change, please, change,” she cried into Daphne’s nethers with each hip shattering crash.

     Not quite wanting to let them switch, finding himself wanting to finish he tried to hold on to Karya, who allowed him to do so.

     It was Daphne and Meliae who pried him away from the shuddering Dryad as she orgasmed.

     Growling, he waited as Daphne got into position in front of him. Before Karya could get herself properly situated beneath her, Vince wrapped his hand into her hair and drove himself into her mouth.

     She eagerly accepted him, her hands reaching up to grab his hips and pull him forward roughly. He’d only managed to get into her throat a few times before Daphne pressed her rear end into his chest, moving him back from Karya.

     “Here, dearest. Right here,” she called. “It’s all yours.” Then her head went down, pressed into Meliae’s eagerly waiting lips.

     Reaching up he grabbed Daphne by the hips and buried it in her roughly. Rocking back and forth with speed and strength, she had to push back against him to keep from being knocked over.

     Karya’s hands and lips went to work as he savaged Daphne.

     Daphne’s loud cries made Meliae squirm, her knees curling up over Daphne’s shoulders to hold her in place.

     Vince appreciated it, since it gave him more leverage to try and split Daphne in half.

     Caution long since gone to the wind, Daphne was mauled between the two of them, her body pushed and pulled with the need of others.

     Finally, aching with the need of it, Vince hit his peak.

     Daphne shuddered violently as he finished inside of her. Lifting herself up she angled herself to give him as deep a shot as she could.

     With several more pumps he filled her up, his entire width aching with the pulses.

     Then he was spent.

     Taking a deep breath he felt his need start to drain away.

     “Mine,” Karya said happily, pulling him out of Daphne and inhaling him.

     Deciding to go with it, Vince grabbed her head and rolled to the side, dragging her along with him.

     Laying on his back, he laid his hand on top of Karya’s head and watched as she bobbed up and down. Cleaning him as she was always eager to do.

     Beside him, Daphne collapsed, her lips and tongue only barely making it to Meliae now.

     “That was fun, Sweetling. We should do this more often,” Meliae said softly, her glowing green eyes watching him and Karya.

     Vince only barely nodded his head, lost in what had just happened. It’d been an eventful evening. One that had sapped him of his worries and stamina.

     Chapter 3

     It was early the next morning that Vince made the call to pack up and go.

     Fes plucked at his leather armor and worried at a buckle. Her callused green fingers rechecked, tightened straps, and pulled on attachments.

     “Fes, stop,” Vince said softly with a chuckle. He took her hands in his own and gave them a squeeze. “It’s on as tight as it can go and everything is secure.”

     “I know. I don’t like you going without me. I’m your Fes. I can’t even send my Second in my place. I trust Petra,” the Orc said, glancing to one side where Petra was speaking with Thera and Eva.

     Such an interesting change in those two.

     “Trust in Thera and Eva then. They’re stronger than you think. All will be well. I’ll be off to Verix, and back before you know it. Hopefully with a trade agreement and safe passage rights. If we can begin to establish a safe corridor.” Vince knew in his heart that this meeting would be the first step to an attempt at lasting peace for both peoples.

     If you can pull it off.

     Fes only nodded her head, her black eyes scouring his face. Then she pressed a soft kiss to his lips and stepped back. “I’ve given your saber a keen edge, as well as your hunting knife. I also oiled the blades and re-wrapped the hilts.

     “If you find suitable wives, make sure Karya agrees before you make any claims. Thera and Eva are both already approved by everyone should the chance arise.

     “I expect you to return, at the least, in one piece. At best, with more wives or concubines. Power and strength through our family. Do you understand?”

     Orc society at its finest.

     “I do, Berenga. I do.” Vince gave her a smile, and bowed his head to her. Turning on his heel he moved over to Petra. She wheeled herself around at his approach, her legs bringing her to face him in a heartbeat as he neared.

     “This one will miss you as well. Obey Fes, listen to Karya, claim the Elves.” Petra leaned down into him, pressing her face into his neck.

     As quickly as her tenderness came, it went, her legs carrying her off to Fes’ side quickly.

     “Do forgive her, Sweetling, she’s still not used to showing her feelings. Try to collect some Dryads while you’re out, run it by Karya for confirmation. Now, off with you,” Meliae said, giving him a tight hug and a wet kiss. “By the time you get back, you’ll be a father of four.”

     Four?

     “Four?” he asked, as she moved to join Fes where the lane ended in front of the eastern gate.

     “One for Berenga, one for Petra, two for me. I’m not this big for no reason, silly,” Meliae called over her shoulder.

     Vince nodded his head woodenly at that. He’d never thought to actually ask.

     “Do you know the sex o—”

     “Yes, I do. No, I won’t tell you. Surprise for your return. Go, shoo. Fes and Petra shouldn’t be up and about if I can prevent it.” Meliae began shepherding Fes and Petra back towards their home when she reached them.

     Petra cast him a backwards glance and a worried smile before they turned a corner and vanished from his sight.

     “Come, master. I’m eager to watch you as a Ranger.”

     “Yes, Lord. Teach us so that we may better ourselves.”

     The Elves were eager. Beyond eager.

     He would be alone with them except for one horny Dryad. This would be their chance to get what they wanted.

     And everyone knew it.

     “I can’t wait to watch you make them squirm under your… tutelage… Darling,” Karya said sweetly.

     Especially the Dryad.

     They’d made significantly good time in their trip to the east.

     Having already reached the point that the Sierra Nevada range ended and spit them out onto the border between California and Nevada in only a few days.

     Vince had taken them south off the beaten path and into a lesser used road, making sure that they didn’t give any information away to whatever scouts or spies the High Elves had sent.

     Maybe he was being paranoid, maybe he wasn’t. It cost them effort and a day at worst to make it harder for their would-be allies to find them.

     It was also a good opportunity to give Thera and Eva Ranger training. As a Wood Elf, Eva needed almost none of it. For her, most of what he discussed and attempted to teach her was already known, in some fashion. To his mind it was as if he were merely making her aware of instincts she had, but hadn’t used logically.

     Thera on the other hand, being a city bred Dark Elf, needed the lessons. As any Elf would though, she took to it quickly enough and soon they were moving through the wild lands at a quick pace.

     Karya, as a Dryad, was a natural of course when it came to areas that had trees and foliage.

     They were waiting in a copse of hills to the southwest of the meeting location. They could see the lake and plains from where they were.

     Thera was snuggled up to the base of a tree, a small book open in front of her, and her fingers working a pencil back and forth.

     She had an eye for art and sketching, and had taken the time whenever she had the chance to draw the world around her. It was a surprise to him. A pleasant one.

     Eva on the other hand, Wood Elf to the core, seemed happy to clamber up into a tree and do whatever it was she did up there.

     I wonder if Eva has a hobby, too.

     Elysia prefers chess and reading.

     Meliae’s turned to knitting.

     Fes, Petra, and Daphne spar when they have free time.

     Karya was hunched over a small sapling, her fingers tenderly stroking tiny buds and dainty branches.

     Then we have the sex monster, tree-mender.

     “Can you save the patient, Doctor Karya?” Vince asked, his eyes moving up to the plain beneath them. They still had a week to go before the High Elves would be arriving.

     He turned his eyes back to her.

     “Indeed, my love. It only needs some attention. It’ll develop nicely even after we’ve moved on,” Karya said in a soft voice. She ran a delicate fingertip along the trunk, a pale green color suffusing the sapling.

     “Oh? Like a certain Dryad I know that’s been basking in attention since we started this trip?” Vince said with a grin, watching her.

     Karya’s cheeks colored, her eyes darting to him, then back to her patient. She spoke under her breath, to the point that he had to strain to hear it.

     “I admit I’m enjoying all the attention I’m getting. Your Elves are growing depressed though. You really should nurture them. Starting with one in particular. Soon.”

     Imperceptibly, Karya pointed a slim finger towards the tree Eva had clambered up into. At the volume she’d spoken, he doubted the Elves would have heard her.

     Thinking on the situation, Eva had definitely become a touch reclusive. Her eyes slid off him whenever it got closer to the evening. When he would inevitably retreat to Karya’s bedroll.

     “Why, why does—”

     “Because it makes sense to everyone. Why are you against claiming a willing wife? You’re acting spineless. We’re done talking about this.

     “By the way, I’m afraid I’m going into my moon sickness. You’re on your own for a while,” Karya said. Then she got up and wandered off deeper into the trees.

     Vince sighed and leaned his head back, resting it on the tree he was propped up against.

     Can’t get moonsickness when you’re pregnant. Or is that the point of saying it. She’s telling me I won’t have an easy release for a while.

     As if waiting for just such a situation, Eva dropped down out of the tree and slunk over to him.

     “Are you well, Master?”

     Her voice was soft, cautious, curious. Those large eyes dug into him, seeking an answer. They were intense.

     Hopeful.

     “Quite well, Eva. Thank you for checking.” Vince hesitated for a moment.

     He really was being stupid about the whole thing. Wasn’t he?

     “Eva, if I asked you to share my bed, what would you say?” he asked, straight and to the point.

     Out of the corner of his eye he caught Thera’s head come up, then move to one side. Her ear now pointing directly towards him.

     He’d said it deliberately loud enough for Thera to hear it. This concerned her too, of course.

     Blinking once, Eva slowly turned her face down and to one side, her eyes peering at him indirectly.

     It was a strange look she gave him. Predatory, concerned, and wary.

     “I’d want to know why you wanted me in your bed,” she said slowly. “You tell me I’m not a concubine, so I’d like to hear the reasoning, Master.”

     Vince felt his eyebrows come together at that.

     What did he want out of his relationships? With everyone it was a question of emotions and feelings. Even Karya and Daphne evoked feelings of care and tenderness from him.

     Did he have that towards the Elves? For Eva?

     He’d fought against it at every turn, but had he ever stopped and explored what he was fighting exactly?

     “I could never claim you aren’t beautiful, Eva. Or deny that my skin heats up when you get too close to me. Or the way you move and carry yourself drives my thoughts into dark corners,” Vince admitted. Turning his eyes skyward he searched his inner self.

     The easiest way he’d ever gauged his feelings before was imagining her with someone else.

     Like if Eva took on a lover and—

     “Because the idea of you being with another man makes me nauseous and angry,” he finished lamely as his stomach went sideways at the idea of Eva sleeping with another man.

     Eva’s head tilted back towards him and her lips parted.

     “Den master! I’ve found you,” squeaked a Ratfolk, sliding up to his side. Blades of grass fluttered in the air behind the diminutive scout.

     Ratfolk looked pretty much like rats, though they walked, stood, and generally moved as a bipedal humanoid would. They were barely above two feet tall and could see in the dark.

     Great forward scouts.

     “Greetings, Set,” Vince said, smiling down at the Ratfolk. “I assume you have news to report?”

     “Den master, news, yes. Elves come early. Gert tracking their trail backwards. Ris is in the field, watching.” The Ratfolk bobbed his head rapidly. “I’m here to tell Den master.”

     “You’ve done well. Now, how many Elves were there?”

     One had to be deliberate and gentle with Ratfolk for the best answers.

     “One paw.” Five. “And four claws.” Four extra, so nine. Set held up his paws, displaying the number on his fingers.

     “The four extra. Did they look like scouts?”

     “Yes, Den master. Gert said they were scouts. They left quick, quick. Began searching.”

     Vince held his hand up to his chin, his fingers stroking his jaw as he thought. “Good work, Set. Go back to Ris and await orders. If you’re engaged, retreat and get back to Yosemite.”

     “Yes, yes, Den master.” Set turned and scurried off, his furry body vanishing in the long bladed grass.

     Eva shifted her weight around, watching him. Thera had come over, her book and pencil held in one hand while she waited for orders.

     “Eva, could you track down Karya and get her over here? I think our time’s been spent.”

     The Wood Elf popped up to a standing position and then flitted off. Thera moved over to her pack and slipped the pencil and book inside.

     “Lord, do we prepare for combat?” asked the Dark Elf as she began closing the flaps again.

     “Unfortunately. I’d love to believe they’re peaceful, but only a fool gives trust to someone he has no reason to.”

     Thera agreed with a nod of her head.

     Reaching back behind her head, she gathered her raven-dark hair and tied it up with a loop of leather cord. Lifting her sword free from the sheath she let it go, checking the pull on it.

     Vince watched the warrior Elf as she made her preparations. Vince then internalized his thoughts. He had to prepare what he wanted to say to the ambassadors.

     Suddenly, he found himself wishing he was still just a Ranger, running from coast to coast with the mail.

     Being a postman was a lot easier.

     The High Elves didn’t seem surprised to see Vince when he showed up in front of them.

     They were more than aware I’d left already.

     That and the fact that they’d set up a portable pavilion made out of cloth as if they were already expecting him. Not a word had been spoken yet and he wasn’t really sure how to begin.

     Vince smiled casually across the table at the three High Elves arranged in front of him. They were all older, having the look of men in their sixties.

     And from what he knew of Elven lifespans, that meant they were pretty frickin’ old.

     They stared back at him, their hands folded in front of them.

     “At least he brought some entertainment for later,” muttered one of them. It was so soft Vince would have missed it if it wasn’t for his extraordinary hearing.

     The eyes of the one who spoke moved up to Thera, Eva, and Karya behind him.

     Seriously? They think I brought bed toys?

     I don’t have time for this tired ass bullshit.

     “No. They’re not here for entertainment. They’re my companions and loved ones,” Vince said darkly.

     “Now, I’ve come on behalf of Yosemite city, by your request. How would you like to begin this conference?” Vince asked simply.

     The Elf on the left’s face puckered in a sour grimace, the middle one sat up straight, and the one on the right clenched his hands together.

     “We would never request to meet with a human,” the one on the left said through gritted teeth.

     “Great, then I’ll be leaving. I have things to do and if this was a waste of time, so be it.” Vince stood up and pushed his chair in.

     “Wait,” said the Elf in the corner. His voice was soft but firm. “My name is Caern. My apologies, please forgive these three.”

     Caern was younger than the other three, had been dressed in simpler attire, and had hung in the back so far.

     Vince didn’t stop, and picked up his messenger bag and picked up the folder Elysia had prepared for him.

     “Please. We did request your presence and we’ve come in good faith. I apologize for them, again.”

     Vince stopped, looking at the young Elf with a flat stare.

     “Sit, please. This was an error. The politicking of old Elves who don’t understand the world.” Caern stood between two of the older Elves now, his hands gesturing to the chair Vince had left.

     Clicking his tongue Vince considered leaving. He didn’t have any desire to be here, and this really was a reasonable excuse that would get him out of here in a hurry.

     “You three, leave. Now,” Caern said, gesturing to the three sitting at the table.

     “Now se—”

     “I d—”

     “Leave, or I’ll kill you and hand your heads over to the King of Yosemite as a gift,” hissed Caern.

     At that, the other three got up and angrily left, their eyes promising death and pain to the young Elf.

     Vince wasn’t completely convinced this wasn’t all for his benefit. He’d seen similar negotiation tactics in the past. Where one person took on the role of the villain and the other the hero. One would be more inclined to work with the hero with a positive attitude and trust.

     Narrowing his eyes, Vince pulled out his chair and sat back down.

     Saying nothing, he was determined to let his opponent show their hand first.

     Behind him, he heard the creak of Eva’s leather armor, and Thera’s chainmail hauberk rustling.

     They were preparing themselves to launch an attack at any second.

     “Your compatriots seem high strung,” Caern said, taking the vacated center seat.

     “Be thankful I didn’t bring my Troll. She takes offense to those who are rude to me. We almost fed your messengers to her on our first meeting when they attacked me.

     “And to be honest, so far, I’m not impressed and see no reason to deal or treat with you and your kind. You’ve been as bad as… well… humans.”

     Vince smirked at Caern. He hoped the man was insulted.

     Caern’s eyes scrunched for a microsecond, his mouth flattening to a line, his nostrils flaring. Mastering himself, the Elf held up a hand. “It is as you say, I’m afraid. We’ve been terrible neighbors.

     “I’d like to fix that. First, I’d like to invite you to Verix, the city itself. As a guest of honor.

     “Second, I believe we can begin with a simple non-aggression pact between Verix and Yosemite. This would only be until we can negotiate a trade agreement.”

     Vince controlled himself as best as he could. Going to their city wasn’t in his plans, but the other half of his statement was welcome news.

     “Though I must confess, we’re under a bit of a crisis.”

     Ah, here it is. Always a catch.

     “But this is neither the time or place to discuss that. Would you be willing to accept a non-aggression treaty and the invitation?”

     “No,” Vince said bluntly. “I’ve no reason to trust you, or put myself in your city, as your ‘guest’ and at your mercy.”

     “I … see. Ah, would you be willing to do so under a life-oath from myself and the others here?”

     “Nope. That’s great for your own word, but it holds no one underneath you responsible. Pass. I’m saddened for this conference to end here, but unless you can offer me some type of iron-clad guarantee on my safety, I wouldn’t be willing to walk into the proverbial lion’s den.” Vince shrugged his shoulders. He wasn’t stupid or foolish.

     He trusted no one until they earned it.

     Caern’s face was a mask of neutrality at the moment. He was doing a much better job of masking his emotions right now than earlier.

     Though his fingers were pressed tight to the table between them.

     “If it helps bridge the gap, I’d be willing to travel to the outskirts of the city, but I don’t plan on entering it under any reason. It doesn’t do to turn oneself into a ready-made hostage,” Vince said.

     “And if our entire ruling council offered guest-rights on top of that life-oath?”

     Elysia had told him they’d get to that point eventually. At that point, they’d be putting themselves on a magical debt level that would annihilate the entire city’s population if they broke it.

     It wasn’t something they would offer unless he put them in an untenable situation. Where he refused every possibility up to that point.

     “I’d accept at that point, though I’d want the guest rights, and oath, before entering the city. My retainers,” Vince said and motioned over his shoulder to the three ladies behind him, “can act as contractors for the magical side. They’ve all been thoroughly schooled in the matter.”

     Caern peered at Vince intently, before giving him a wide predator's grin. “You were waiting for the guest rights.”

     Saying nothing, Vince stood back up and collected his possessions. “We’ll be traveling to Verix and will announce ourselves when we arrive. I would hope the oath and rights can be established within a few hours of that point. Good day.”

     Turning on his heel, Vince left and set off to the northwest, in the opposite direction of where his scouts were hiding.

     Ass-hats.

     Chapter 4

     They’d been escorted into the city when they arrived a few days later. Only after the entire council had sworn a life-oath for his safety and offered him guest rights, of course.

     Thera and Eva had both confirmed for him independently that everything was exactly as everyone had stated. If any harm befell Vince or his team, the city would pay dearly as their magic spilled out and took their lives.

     Guest rights when sworn with a life-oath and bound with magic were not something to toy with.

     After that, they’d been swept through a quick evening meal, dropped in their room, and told that tomorrow morning their first trade meeting would begin.

     Vince was now locked in a room with two beds and three women.

     Gert, Set, and Ris were all scouting the surrounding areas. It wasn’t much, but information gathering could prove useful if a situation arose. That and he really didn’t have anything else for them to do.

     Better to keep hands busy than idle. And speaking of idle.

     Vince stood up from the chair he was in, his hands moving to check the weapons on his person.

     After confirming everything was as it should be, he looked up to the three women who were eying him expectantly.

     “I’m going to go sneak around and spy on our hosts. Seems as good a time as any. They can’t really hurt me either,” Vince explained. “Honestly, maybe I’m just being paranoid, but I feel as if they’re keeping something from us that they don’t want us to know yet.”

     Karya yawned behind her hand and then waved it at him. “Do what you feel is best. I’m going to turn in for the night. A comfy bed sounds delightful right now.”

     Without another word, the Dryad shucked off her clothes, and crawled under the covers without a scrap of clothing on.

     “So soft,” murmured the Dryad, closing her eyes and rolling over to one side.

     Eva was studying Vince, her nose wrinkling. “I don’t like it, Master. I dislike this city on top of that. It isn’t easy to hide here or blend in with the shadows here. It…”

     “Isn’t a forest,” Vince said with a smile. “I know. Urban stealth is a bit different.”

     “Which is why I’ll be going with you, lord. I’m quite at home in the city and feel I can keep up with you easily,” Thera said, unbuckling her sword and putting it on a bedside table.

     Strapping on her hunting knife she began double-checking her gear to make sure everything was secured.

     “Thera, I really—”

     “Lord, you’ll not argue in this,” said the Dark Elf with steel in her voice. She pinned him with her eyes for a split second.

     “Alright, fine.” Vince reached up and ran a hand through his hair. It simply wasn’t a smart idea to argue. They’d do what they wanted regardless of his wishes if they felt they were in the right.

     “Thank you, Master. I appreciate you not fighting us on this. It’s best for everyone, especially for your own safety,” Eva chimed in, sitting down on the empty second bed. “I’ll remain here. They could harm us without causing actual ‘harm’.”

     That makes a lot of sense, actually.

     “Good thinking. Thanks, Eva. You’re a blessing. Really appreciate ya,” Vince said sincerely, giving her a smile.

     Eva said nothing, returning the smile thinly.

     Thera grabbed him by the elbow and led him to the door, her eyes telling him to say nothing more and to follow instructions.

     Unfastening the door latch, she opened the door quietly and poked her head out the doorway.

     She looked to the left, then the right. After a second she stepped out into the hallway.

     With a slight turn of her head, she gave him a crooked smile and held out her hand to him.

     “The night is young, lord. Come, let’s go play in the dark.”

     Vince let out a snort and decided to play along. He placed his hand in hers and he closed the door behind himself.

     “Lead on. I’ll obediently follow.”

     Vince would describe the city as if it were any other. It really didn’t differ too much from what he’d seen of human settlements.

     The High Elves seemed to have a preference for worked stone. If he had to be honest though, he’d bet it wasn’t worked at all, but magically summoned and crafted.

     Their roads, houses, decorative pieces were all in stone.

     Metal didn’t have a place here, nor did wood, as far as he could tell.

     Winding streets that led down homes and businesses, plazas that had the look of being open markets, back alleys where trash collected. There were even homeless Elves back in there.

     For all the love of claiming vast differences, from both sides, humanity and Elven kind were much more similar than either race would probably believe.

     Or wanted to believe.

     Vince and Thera had stolen two coal colored cloaks and did their best High Elf impersonation while keeping themselves to the shadows and dark places.

     They were working their way towards a dark corner of the city. A part of it that was near the exterior wall, but also had an interior wall. It’d provoked his interest and curiosity in equal measure.

     To his mind, it was more something that you would do to keep something in, rather than out.

     Thera’s hand brushed against his wrist as she hovered close to his side. Her hearing and eyesight were slightly better than his own enhanced senses.

     He trusted her implicitly and waited for whatever signal she’d give.

     As quickly as she’d tensed up, she relaxed. Moving forward at a slow walk, Thera kept them on a straight line for what they assumed would be the entry point.

     They couldn’t be sure as they’d already tried several other streets and found nothing but a dead end and a wall.

     If they encountered another one, Vince planned on climbing up the wall itself to get inside.

     Trespassing be damned, my curiosity won’t let this one lie.

     Thera spun on her heel, pushing him up into a darkened corner. She’d stuffed him up under a windowsill at the front of the home they’d been passing by.

     The Dark Elf was an inch from his face, her black eyes staring into his.

     “Guards,” she hissed, her warm breath washing over his mouth and neck.

     Vince swallowed, moving his head back from her. Only to find he couldn’t. They were quite literally pressed up into the corner as far as they could go.

     “—ot a hold of her and then had to send her back.” The voice was high pitched, and heading in their direction.

     “Oh? Didn’t get a chance, did you?” said a second voice, deeper than the first.

     “No. Hustled her off right quick. As rare a chance as it was, and it slipped through my fingers.”

     Two Elves moved into view and stopped just beyond a decorative fountain that was set into the walkway.

     Neither carried a torch, but he doubted either had need of it.

     Vince couldn’t make out their conversation any further though, as the burbling of the fountain drowned it out.

     Thera’s hands were pushed into his arms, pinning him to the wall, her chest smashed into his. Even her legs were wedged up against his own.

     It’s like something out of a bad romance novel.

     He couldn’t help it, and his lips curled upward in a grin at the thought.

     Thera noticed, her black eyes darting to his mouth and then back to him. She lifted one dark eyebrow at him, a ghost of a smile gracing her generous lips.

     Fuck it.

     Taking the offensive for once, since almost every interaction with a woman was initiated by them, Vince leaned in and kissed the Dark Elf warrior.

     Thera’s fingers dug into his arms, her entire body going rigid at the touch of his lips to hers.

     He couldn’t pull away from her, and he didn’t want to push her back and possibly give them away, so he simply remained where he was.

     She could break the kiss whenever she wanted.

     It slowly became something more as Thera moved her head to the side, and forward. The back of his head pressed up to the stone however and could go no further.

     Her lips pressed to his, she began to kiss him in earnest. Her nose tickled his cheek as she seemingly tried to wedge her entire body into his own.

     Soft, panting breaths came from her, threatening to give their location away.

     The kiss became a hungry eager thing all on its own.

     It wasn’t until the soft click of boots echoed from the street that Thera moved her head back.

     As if the realization of what happened came with that separation, she took two quick steps away from him.

     The Dark Elf stared at him, her eyes slightly glassy and annoyed.

     She fluffed her cloak and wrapped herself in it, her breathing deep and hard.

     “I won’t apologize. Because I’m not sorry for that. It was a chance that doesn’t come around except in fairy tales, so I took it,” Vince said, giving himself a small shake. “Now, shall we see if this is the street we wanted after all?”

     Thera eyed him, considering his question. She didn’t seem angry, more annoyed and flustered than anything.

     Eventually she released her cloak, the material falling back into place. Her hands were pressed to her stomach, her fingers clutched into the fabric.

     “Why?”

     “Why what?”

     “Why me?”

     Vince chewed at his lip for a second and then answered her honestly.

     “Because you’re beautiful? Strong? Intelligent? Fascinating? You three constantly remind me that you’re pledged to me and I swore up and down I’d never touch any of you. But I find my endurance spent, my promise a curse, and my will long since passed.

     “So… I kissed you. Because I wanted to.”

     Thera’s lips twitched, then she did a ninety degree turn and headed off down the street towards their hoped for entrance.

     Vince took a few quick steps to catch up with her. He spared a second to look back the way the guards had gone. Those two were still moving down the lane without a backward glance.

     Odd. They weren’t really watching for anything.

     Crime was practically non-existent in Yosemite, but they still had patrols that walked the streets. Each fighting company would have a few squads walking the city every night.

     Even the most lax of his people wouldn’t have been that inattentive.

     To Vince, things weren’t adding up.

     “Damn,” hissed Thera, getting his attention.

     Up ahead of them were several guards around a massive gate. It looked like something you’d put on the front entrance of an outer wall rather than an interior one.

     The strange part was the guards were on the outside, but their attention was inward.

     “Stranger and stranger. I want to get in there. You with me?” Vince asked, moving off the street and into a back alley. He’d seen what he wanted to see. Now he just wanted to get inside.

     “Ever so, Lord.” The Dark Elf ghosted into his side.

     “You say that now, but in three hundred years when I’m still among the living and you’re starting to tire of the world, will it be the same?” Vince asked jokingly.

     Turning his eyes towards the buildings around them, he started to plot a course upwards. The only way in would be to scale the walls. Using the houses and stores seemed like the best way to see how that could be done.

     “Beg your pardon, three hundred?”

     “Just a guess really. The Dryads keep dancing around it but I get the impression I’m going to live as long as their grove does. Which as far as I can tell,” Vince paused, putting the toes of his boot into a crack in a wall, “means I’ll live as long as the trees live. Those trees can’t leave behind seeds, but can regrow themselves all over again, because of the grove.”

     Coiling himself he prepared to leap upwards, using the crack as a leverage point to get to the window ledge above. “So, if I don’t miss my guess, I’ll still be alive long after your Elven bones have turned to powder.”

     Launching himself off the ground, Vince kicked off the crack a second later. Grabbing hold of the ledge he powered upwards, keeping himself moving.

     His fingers locked onto the edge of the roof and he dug the front of his boots into whatever he could.

     “Jump up, grab on, climb up me,” Vince hissed down at Thera.

     The Dark Elf wasted no time and he felt her hands clench around his ankles. Bracing himself he held to the wall while Thera climbed up him.

     Getting to his shoulders she paused, her face behind his ear.

     He heard her lips part, as if she were considering her words.

     “Outlive me, will you, Lord? I think you’ve forgotten that a certain magical storm incarnate powers me up daily. I have enough life force to live for a thousand years or so right now. I imagine he’ll continue to fill me with magical energy as well. So yes. Ever.”

     Thera was on the move again, her foot pressing into his waist as she put a knee to his shoulder. A second later and she scrambled over the top.

     Strong hands clasped his wrists and started hauling him upward. As soon as he got his chest over the lip of the edge, Thera released him and slithered back, keeping low to the rooftop.

     “No guards,” she hissed. Turning her back to him she flitted away to the opposite end of the roof, closest to the wall they needed to get over.

     Vince grunted, looking around quickly. It looked like a series of roofs all at a uniform height and type.

     A little different then a human city then. It’s all symmetrical.

     Now, let’s see if we can’t find a way in.

     It was the deep part of the night, midnight or so, when they finally found a way in. It’d taken going to the wall on the far side, closest to the open fields around Verix, and dropping in.

     At first blush, Vince found that it seemed to be the poor quarter of the city. The buildings were the same, the streets the same, the decor the same, just of lower value.

     Lower status.

     They worked their way through the streets and found it all the same. There were no guards patrolling however.

     No sounds either.

     All was deathly silent.

     Like a tomb.

     Vince stared at the back door to the house they’d stopped at. They’d found nothing and no one. Nothing that could explain the mystery of this section of the city.

     Vince wasn’t normally a curious man, but he felt that it was better to turn over every stone with Verix. He didn’t want any surprises further down the road in their working relationship.

     “Lord, you aren’t seriously considering going inside, are you?” Thera asked from beside him. The distance she’d kept from him at the start of this adventure had vanished after their kiss.

     Now she was practically on his heels, her hand touching his lower back.

     “That I am. I’m thinking about waking someone up, and then going through some of their thoughts. I wouldn’t even have to talk to them,” Vince admitted.

     They were crouched low in the shadow of a shed. It was one of the reasons they’d stopped here in particular. It had the look of every other house, but there were things that set it apart as upgraded or developed.

     Like the shed.

     Thera sighed, her full lips turning to a flat line as her dark eyes turned on the house.

     “I now understand what Fes and Petra meant,” Thera muttered, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

     “And what does that mean exactly?”

     “They warned me that you would do whatever you wanted and I was best served to adapt to it, rather than fight it. I now see, Lord, what they meant.”

     “Sound advice, smart women, I listen to them frequently,” Vince said, standing up and heading straight for the back of the house.

     Lifting his hand to knock on the door and slip away as quickly as possible, he was surprised when it jerked open.

     Standing in front of him was a middle-aged Wood Elf. He was garbed in what could only be described as a long tailed tunic.

     Sleepwear, really.

     “What do you want? We’ve done nothing wrong, all the—” the man stopped dead, his eyes focusing on Vince’s face. “Who are you?”

     Thera’s knife appeared pressed to the man’s throat, her other hand clasped to the back of his head.

     “We should go, now,” Thera hissed, her eyes reflecting the light of the lantern from inside the man’s house.

     “You’re not an Elf. You’re a human, I c—” said the man, his voice raising several octaves. Thera’s blade tip pressed into his skin and blood ran down the length of it.

     “Another word and I’ll take your life,” Thera promised.

     Gurgling, the Elf said nothing in response.

     Vince hadn’t been idle this whole time though. He’d already been passively rifling through anything and everything he could pull out of the Elf’s mind.

     What he found didn’t please him. In any way, shape or form.

     “You’re a slave,” Vince said without preamble.

     Thera’s eyes flicked to him. He could read in them the warring desires in her heart. Whether to defend him, to get away, or to find out how a Wood Elf was here and a slave.

     “This entire part of the town is the slave quarter. It’s populated with nothing but slaves of any race the High Elves can capture. Gnomes, Dwarves, Elves, anything. Anything that they can capture and bring into the city. And it’s been this way as long as anyone can remember.”

     Vince shook his head slowly, realizing that Verix wasn’t the ally he wanted.

     If anything, it was an enemy.

     Chapter 5

     “Say nothing about us to anyone,” Vince said, reaching out to gently press his hand to Thera’s wrist. “For your sake, and ours. It would do no favors to anyone.”

     Thera allowed her weapon to drop, seemingly unsure of herself with the news.

     “Slaves, lord?” she asked.

     “Slaves. These Elves are no different than the Humans in the west. To be honest, I imagine this isn’t unique to High Elves either. I’m betting this is true for much of the Wastes. ‘If you’re not in my tribe, you’re clearly an animal,’ kind of thinking.”

     Thera shook her head, as if unwilling to hear or believe his words.

     “Lord, I…”

     “You forget, you yourself would have happily allowed other Elf races to die not long ago, would you not? Is it so hard to think that someone would take that, and then say, ‘why not a slave instead?’ It’s not that farfetched.”

     Thera looked to the ground, her cheeks coloring faintly in what he assumed was shame.

     She’d been very against bringing the other Elven races into the community. The very same Elves she now considered family.

     “Dada? Is that a friend of mama?”

     Vince looked past the man and found a small girl hiding behind her father’s leg.

     Though he had no real experience with children, he’d bet on her being five or six years old.

     She had the brown skin and wavy hair of her father, but her eyes were black as well as her hair. A Dark Elf’s coloring.

     A half-breed. Cute kid as well.

     She had an upturned finger, pointing at Thera.

     The man looked down and then stepped in front of his daughter. “No, dear, not a friend of mama’s. Let’s go back to bed and snuggle up to mama. Dada was just saying goodnight.”

     Thera had not failed to notice the child, and stared at her with a strange look.

     “Goodnight,” Vince said, playing along. “Please be safe and be sure to think on what my suggestion was.”

     “He looks like grandpa,” the girl said as the door started to close.

     Vince stole a final look at the man and noticed belatedly his ears weren’t as pointed as a normal Elf’s. They were rounded at the tips.

     Somewhere between Human and Elf.

     Very much a half-breed.

     Once the door closed, Vince and Thera were left to the dark quiet of the slave quarter of Verix by themselves.

     Sighing, Vince pressed a hand to the side of his head.

     Everything gets more and more complicated.

     “She was beautiful,” Thera murmured. Her eyes were locked on the door, where the young child had been.

     Turning away from the door before they were spotted, Vince set off for their entry point. The night was fading and he needed to get back.

     An hour later and they’d ghosted back to their room.

     The door shut with a clack behind them as they entered. They’d somehow managed to make it back without trouble. Even making it past the door guard who had been placed to make sure they didn’t leave.

     Everything had gone their way.

     Almost too easily, really.

     It made Vince paranoid and nervous that something bad was going to happen.

     Something terrible.

     Thera had stripped out of her armor on the way to the bed she’d be sharing with Eva.

     The Dark Elf paused and then nodded to the bed, as if Eva had asked her a question. Then the covers shifted to one side and Thera crawled in.

     Checking his path was clear to the bed he was sharing with Karya, he got out of his equipment, setting it to one side.

     With a flick of his hand, he doused what light the room had from the single burning candle. The sudden darkness was complete and empty of all light.

     His increased night vision made it hard sometimes to fall asleep and utter blackness had been one of the few things that helped.

     Even night vision needed a bit of light to work.

     Walking over to the bed he pressed his hands to the covers, trying to find Karya so he didn’t squish her.

     His hand brushed over the swell of her hip and he found her darn near the center of the bed.

     Figures. Forcing me to sleep on the edge or cuddle up with her.

     Skin prickling as the cold crept into his flesh, Vince gave up.

     Pulling over the covers, he slid in behind Karya and pressed himself up to her back.

     Wrapping his right arm around her midsection, his left arm slithering under her head, he drew her close to himself.

     Giving her a squeeze from behind, he shifted around till he got comfortable.

     Her bottom fit firmly in his lap, his arm resting underneath the bottom of her breasts, and his forehead to the back of her skull.

     “They have slaves,” Vince murmured to her. “An entire slave quarter full of every race they can lay their hands on. Even other elves.

     “Instead of an ally, I fear we may have only found a new enemy.”

     Sighing, he leaned over Karya and kissed her lips softly.

     Her full lips were eager to meet his, her body turning partially towards him.

     Remembering her words earlier about not being available to him, he broke the kiss and laid his head back down. He’d respect her wishes.

     Can still punish her for it though.

     Sliding his right hand down over her flat stomach, he reached between her legs. Parting for his advance, she spread her thighs, giving him immediate access to her nether region.

     Pressing his lips to the base of her neck, he started to trail kisses upwards along her soft skin.

     At the same time, he pressed the palm of his hand to her pubic mound, his index and ring finger splaying her lips wide. Then he dove his middle finger into her entrance, moving it up to the last knuckle and curling the finger.

     He began to rub and press his fingertip at the interior of her, while he sank his teeth into her neck.

     Biting firmly, he sucked roughly at her skin at the same time. He might as well mark her since he was antagonizing her. He knew she didn’t experience the Dryad shame the same way Meliae did, but leaving marks on her always worked.

     She sucked in a breath that caught in her throat.

     Encouraged by her reaction, Vince began to work his middle finger back and forth smoothly. Then he curled his thumb inward and began to brush it over the hood of her slit carefully.

     Moving his left arm lower under her, he curled his arm and found her right breast. He began to knead it with fingers through her thick sleeping tunic.

     Karya whimpered once as Vince released her neck to begin placing kisses along her throat again.

     His eventual goal was her ear, it always made her squirm when he got a hold of it.

     And he planned to ravage it.

     Karya turned towards him more, her right hand coming to grip the arm that was angled down between her legs. Her fingers were strong and held tight to him, as if unsure whether to encourage him or push him away.

     Decide, little Dryad. Hold to your threat or give in.

     Lifting a foot, he eased her knees further apart with a gentle nudge. Then he pushed his middle finger deep into her.

     Pressing his mouth to her ear, he took in a deep breath, his tongue sliding out to lick gently at her earlobe.

     Karya shivered in his embrace, her nipple hard against his palm through the thick fabric.

     Her insides were dripping, the moisture from her making his finger slippery as he wormed it in and out.

     Closing his teeth on the edge of her ear he began to move upwards, biting into it and running the tip of his tongue over it.

     Turning his head he let out a breath into her ear, then moved up to bite into the end of her ear.

     And found that it was pointed.

     “Vince,” Eva whimpered, her free hand coming up to press to the back of his head, the tip of her ear stuck in his lips and teeth. “Please. Don’t stop, the tip is sensitive.”

     Her whispered pleas and use of his name set his skin on fire.

     Vince surrendered.

     Releasing her ear despite her wish, Vince moved to her face and kissed her deeply. Her mouth opened up, her tongue cautiously touching his lips.

     Opening his own mouth her ran his tongue over hers.

     Slowly, he retrieved his hand from between her legs, pulling his arm out from under her, and moved himself over the top of her.

     Eva shifted herself around, her hips lining up against his thighs. Her slim hands pressed into his sides, her fingers stroking his bare hips.

     Ending the kiss, he laid his forehead to hers.

     “Are you sure? Are you ready?” he asked.

     He would take them. Take them all. But only if they were absolutely certain.

     “Yes. Yes, I am,” Eva said, laying her head on the pillow.

     He could just barely make out her face in the dark, the gentle glow of her eyes.

     Nodding his head, Vince gently forced her legs apart around his hips as he moved in closer.

     Reaching down with one hand, he took his shaft in hand, and then fit the tip to the opening of her channel.

     Pushing himself forward slowly, he entered Eva, and tore her maidenhead.

     Moving as smoothly as he could, Vince started to rock himself back and forth, driving his girth through her.

     Eva’s breath came out in ragged pants, her knees locked to his hips as her fingers clung to his back.

     Ducking his head in, Vince kissed her repeatedly as he picked up speed. Her lips met his eagerly, hungrily as the audible patting noise of his thighs making contact with her own could be heard.

     Eva whimpered and moaned into his mouth, her fingers curling as her body shuddered underneath him.

     The speed and force of it kept escalating as she writhed, her hands encouraging him onward and her knees pulling at his hips.

     Her breathing went ragged and he could feel her tunic sticking to her sweat. Groaning deeply, her insides squirmed and clenched tightly onto him.

     Vince couldn’t keep himself from release any longer and drove himself home into her.

     Even as his shaft expanded, he thrust into her repeatedly, thick seed spilling into her.

     A few more thrusts and he was empty, his length buried deep inside of her.

     Moaning, Eva undulated her hips under him, grinding herself against his hilt. Turning her head to the side she broke the kiss, taking in a deep breath.

     Her body slowly came to a halt under him, her skin slick with sweat, her hair plastered to her forehead and cheeks.

     Nudging her head to face him, he kissed her tenderly, then rolled to his side, drawing her up onto his chest and side.

     She laid an arm across his chest, her head falling to rest on his shoulder.

     Hot shaky breaths from her tickled his neck and ear.

     Vince did his best to not think on what he’d just done, and simply enjoyed the after effects.

     With that thought, he managed to somehow quickly fall asleep, while holding onto Eva.

     In the cold light of day, he only regretted the way it happened. Eva deserved more than an accident. Not that he’d ever admit that he didn’t know it was her in the bed before he got in.

     Even now while he waited in the large chamber, he couldn’t help changing the direction of his thoughts.

     Not ever. Gonna die with that one.

     Another council member entered the large audience hall and collected a paper from the guards. Giving it a quick once over, the Elf then moved off into the raised chairs that circled the table Vince was sitting at.

     The councillors of Verix were trickling in for the meeting that had been arranged. From the number of desks and chairs, it would be about thirty some odd people in the council all told.

     It wasn’t quite time for that meeting however, so no one was late.

     Yet.

     He half expected them to attempt some type of power play and keep him waiting.

     So Vince had vowed he would be early for it. It was easier to circumvent a power play in advance than waiting for it.

     Now he watched as High Elves entered, sat down, and read the paper that had been supplied to them.

     On his right was Thera, standing attentively, armed, and armored. Guest rights and an oath didn’t prevent anything, it only made it so that repercussions would be severe.

     Karya, the evil mastermind behind last night’s accident, had laughed at him once she got him alone for a few seconds. After promptly congratulating him on conquering the Wood Elf, of course. She’d then said she would leave the city that morning while he tended to the politics of the deal.

     Even now she was meeting with the scouts outside the walls. For whatever reason she’d decided she could be best utilized there, instead of here.

     Secretly he suspected she was up to something else entirely, but he had no idea what it could be.

     Karya left after she’d had a quick conversation with Eva.

     Sitting at his left side was that very same Wood Elf. She’d pulled her hair back into a style that was abnormal for her. A self-satisfied smile graced her features and she looked pleased.

     Vince’s eyes were drawn to her neck where the dark purple bruise he’d put on her was on display.

     You can even see the frickin’ teeth marks. Way to go, Vince.

     His stomach flipped over at the fact that Eva was wearing the hickey as if it were some badge of honor.

     The Wood Elf’s gaze slid towards him, as if feeling his eyes on her.

     She gave him a bright smile, a hand reaching up to run a finger over that very same bruise.

     Warm eyes, a cheerful smile, the slight coloring of her cheeks.

     In a heartbeat Eva transformed from a cold beauty to a warm and radiant lovely woman.

     “What…?” she asked, her cheeks coloring a darker red. Looking down at herself she did a quick self-check of her person as if to see what was wrong.

     “Nothing, I was just thinking about how lovely you look this morning,” Vince said, leaning towards her, his voice pitched low.

     Eva’s face burst into a scarlet color as her teeth caught her lower lip. “Oh. Oh, I… I see. Alright.”

     From his right, Thera snickered to herself. “So much for that strong front, sister. You crumble like a structure made of sand in a rain storm.”

     Looking at her sister Eva wrinkled her nose. “Wait for your turn, then you’ll see.”

     “I do not doubt it. You were the one who said—”

     “Stop, enough, sister. Mercy,” Eva said quickly.

     Thera snorted and started to reply, when her attention fastened onto something else.

     Following her gaze, Vince found it was Caern who’d entered and stolen Thera’s eye.

     And apparently her anger.

     Vince couldn’t miss the hand that flexed around the hilt of her sword at her side.

     He couldn’t blame her. Slavery was something that Elves cursed their human masters over on both coasts. Yet here in the Wastes, the Elves themselves enslaved one another.

     It wasn’t every day you found out you were no better than the people you hated.

     “I see no reason we can’t begin,” Caern said loudly.

     Snapping out of his thoughts, Vince did a quick check and found most of the desks were filled.

     “Today we greet Vince… wait, do you have a surname?”

     “Never needed one.”

     Caern blinked a few times and then leaned over his paper to scratch something out with a pencil.

     “Vince, the King of Yosemite City. A city state to our west. He’s come to open trade negotiations. The proposed trade route would be along the western road, moving through the Sisrote pass.”

     “Not possible,” claimed one of the Elves on the far left.

     “We’ve already lost too many there,” said another.

     Doing his best to watch the byplay, Vince felt like the developing situation was strange. Their words were heated, but there was no emotions behind them.

     If it was also such a problem, more than one person should have—would have—objected.

     No, this didn’t add up. To Vince it almost seemed…

     Planned. This is a charade for our benefit.

     “Let’s cut to the chase,” Vince said, standing up. “You want me to do something even before we begin talking about the original reason I came here. Rather than going through all the theatrics, how about you tell me what you want done, and I’ll tell you what price I want for that service.”

     The assembly room went deathly quiet at that.

     Standing straight and tall, Vince made eye contact with all who would meet his gaze.

     “If you prefer I can sit back down and you can go through whatever lines you had prepared beyond this point and we can pretend I never saw through it,” Vince offered.

     He was no ambassador. On top of that he really didn’t want to work with people who would enslave their own kind, let alone other sentient people.

     He’d done enough of that in the past and would be choosing his allies carefully going forward.

     Caern started to laugh. Picking up the paper in front of him he crumpled it up and set it aside.

     “As you like. We have a problem on the trade route we’d want to use. Somewhere north of it is a group of… well, we don’t know what they are. Or it. We don’t know anything, really.

     “The only thing we know is that whenever we send people in that direction, on that route, they don’t always come back.”

     Nodding his head, Vince could think of several things that would lie in wait along a well traveled road for an easy meal.

     “We need you to make that route safe to pass. Then we could work out a trade agreement. We could never send our people without their safety being assured.”

     “And what would you have me do to show you proof the deed was done? For all we know, this could be something natural and there’s no way I can solve it,” Vince stated. He’d give them no room to wriggle out of this.

     “Would you swear a life-oath that you solved the problem to whatever extent you were capable of?” Caern asked after thinking on it for a moment.

     “Providing I agree to the exact life-oath and the wording, yes. I would.”

     “Then it’s settled. We look forward to—”

     “Though I have a condition of my own. And I’m afraid it’s non-negotiable. I’d also have your council swear a life-oath on honoring that condition should I be successful.”

     Caern frowned, shaking his head. “I don’t think we could accept one. The trade agreement would be repaym—”

     “No, it wouldn’t. I can trade with the humans just as easily as I could you. I’m here to simply make sure I’ve kept all my options open. I don’t need your trade, but I’d prefer to have it. You on the other hand… you could use me as an intermediary to the human lands directly.”

     Caern’s face puckered up at that. Apparently he’d already thought all this through and had similar thoughts of his own. “Go on.”

     “You’ll be turning all your slaves over to me. I’ll either offer them a home, or free them. Then you’ll never take another slave again.”

     There was finality in Vince’s voice. There would be no equivocation or bickering. No bartering. No horse-trading.

     That was his condition to them.

     As one would expect, the entire room erupted in a chorus of shouted voices and exclamations of anger.

     Deciding he’d wait it out till they were silent again, Vince sat down, folded his hands behind his head, and leaned back in the chair.

     Chapter 6

     The racket went on loudly and ferociously.

     To Vince it felt as if it were unending.

     They shouted him down for telling them how to rule their city. They railed at the fact that he knew that, yet he’d never been inside their city before. They blustered and threatened. Lamented and wailed.

     All in all, Vince was unimpressed.

     They were all powerless to actually act against him.

     His guest rights were granted until a day after leaving the city. Which meant unless they wanted to end this conference here and now, they would be forced to deal with him

     Vince was growing tired and bored with the situation. It wasn’t as if they were actually accomplishing anything by going on the way they were.

     A middle-aged Elf stood up and started to lift a hand towards Vince.

     Thera vanished from his side and reappeared before the Elf. Her sword was unsheathed and pressed to the man’s throat. Bone chilling cold radiated from her, the room dropping in temperature immediately

     Eva had also disappeared, only to reappear in a back corner, her bow nocked and leveled. What little air made it through via the windows stilled and died, the room going utterly silent and dead.

     No one moved, no one spoke. No one dared.

     Caern slowly lifted a hand above his head, as if requesting permission to speak.

     “What can I do for you, Caern?” Vince asked, looking to the Elf.

     “I think perhaps we were all a touch heated. Could we re-seat ourselves and begin again?” Caern asked neutrally.

     “No. I don’t think we can. I think this is pretty straightforward. You want me to perform a service for you that your entire military cannot accomplish. Otherwise you would have done it already.”

     Vince stood up from his chair, holding his hands out in front of them. “With that in mind, I require a price to be paid for that service, as nothing comes cheap or for free, does it? Now, admittedly maybe my price is a touch steep. So I’ll make it easier for you.”

     Reaching into a pocket Vince pulled out a gold standard.

     Laying it down on the table with a thunk he gave it a tap.

     “You all of course know that this is a gold standard. I doubt you care for the markings, since it’s currency for humans, but I’m sure you’ll agree the gold weight is valuable. Every gold standard is within minute fractions of each other in gold weight. I’ll pay you for each and every slave you have, that you release.

     “Price per is negotiable, but I’d want to hear the total number I’m purchasing before I decided on a price. Then I’d need a full accounting of each slave.” Vince shrugged with a grin. “No offense, it’s just business.”

     He continued, “So, you have a simple choice in front of you. If you want to trade with Yosemite, you’ll need me to get that route cleared. If you want the route cleared, you’ll be divesting yourself of your slaves. And in getting rid of those slaves, I’ll pay you a reasonable price. I have a good bit of experience of what the going rate is in the western kingdom of man.

     “If you like, I can leave you to deliberate on your choice, but there won’t be much room for negotiation from here.”

     After several seconds without a response, Vince sighed. He flicked the coin to the other side of the table and left it there.

     “Put your sword away, Thera. Eva, put the arrow back. It seems we’ll be waiting outside for them to make a choice.”

     “Hold, Vince. How would you have us do this? If we agreed to it, that is.” The speaker was Caern of course. He seemed to be far more prominent in Elven politics than anyone had explained to him yet thus far.

     Looking up to Caern, Vince grinned. “Life-oath, of course.”

     Vince, Thera, and Eva walked out of Verix that day. There had been nothing left to say after the assembly room fiasco and the deal being struck.

     No sooner were they in the open areas to the west of Verix than Gert tracked them down.

     The Wolfman loped up easily beside Vince and ducked his head.

     “Please, follow me, Packmaster,” Gert said without preamble, smoothly turning off the path into the brush.

     Turning his heading without questioning or arguing, Vince followed his scout. He was long since past the paranoia that would have plagued him with anyone else.

     For his people, he trusted them implicitly. Especially the Beastmen. They were exceptionally loyal. Fanatically so.

     As suddenly as they’d entered the brush, they’d just about cleared it.

     Karya stood on the other side, speaking quietly to both Ris and Set.

     Arrayed out behind her was a group of women. There had to at least be seven of them, all standing there, watching Karya.

     It took Vince only a hard look at one of them to realize they were all Dryads. Every single one of them.

     Green eyes, strange skin tones, and varied hair colors.

     Amazing figures.

     They were also young, some looking like they could have been a few days past eighteen; the oldest looking only twenty-one. These would be exactly what Meliae had been looking for to join the grove.

     “Ah! Good timing. I have our first batch of Dryads ready. They’ve all already heard the expectations, situation, and all about the grove. These are all those who agreed and met the requirements.”

     Feeling the unease building in his gut, Vince let his empathic gift free. Unshackling it, he let it drift over the Dryads and envelope them.

     A touch of fear, a hint of disbelief, a quiet hope, and a mountain-sized amount of yearning.

     They wanted to be here. Desperately so.

     Karya practically danced over to him with a light skip and a bounce. She smeared herself to him and plastered her lips to his.

     “If you could be a doll, and open yourself up, we can get them squared away quickly. Though we’ll have to save the second half of the seeding for when we return. This isn’t the time or place for something that intense,” Karya said.

     Frowning with a small sigh, Vince looked at Karya for a second or two longer.

     He was being forced into this and he didn’t like it. If anything, it made it worse for him that he wasn’t really being given a chance to discuss it in any way, shape or form.

     But the last time you were given a choice, you dragged it out to a point that was almost a problem.

     “Fine. Fine, but let’s get moving after this. I’ll fill you in as we do this,” Vince agreed. Reaching up he started to unbuckle and work at his leather armor fastenings.

     Eva was there in a flash, her deft fingers moving his own out of the way and removing his armor.

     “Thanks, Eva,” Vince said, giving her a smile. “Now, Karya. Verix has agreed to free all their slaves over to me at a price. That price will be determined after we return and an accounting of the slave population has been done. They’ve sworn to this agreement, and that they’d operate in good faith, so long as we return and swear that the route they want to use is safe.”

     Unsheathing his hunting knife as Eva peeled his breastplate down he then pressed the tip to the same spot he’d cut open before.

     “It won’t hurt, I promise. I’ll take it all away,” Karya said with glowing eyes. “Just a trickle of blood.”

     Sharing her personal grove with others still seemed to set her pilot light, so to speak.

     Nodding his head, as he’d heard the same from Meliae before, Vince cut himself open just as he had before.

     Not making eye contact with the Dryads, he kept his face turned to Karya. “The route is being hunted by something they can’t catch, kill, or track. So they’re sending us instead.”

     A Dryad stepped up to him and pushed something into the gaping wound with trembling fingers. She stepped aside and was replaced by another, then another, and another.

     Karya made no response to his statement. She was engrossed in watching her grove being used. Her eyes greened over and glowing brightly.

     “I figure it’s a man eater type. Something that’s using the route as a buffet.”

     Another Dryad pushed some sort of seed into his chest. “Are you listening, Karya?” Vince asked irritably.

     “Sorry, darling. I’m being shamed wonderfully right now.”

     Vince sighed and waited for what he hoped was the last Dryad to finish.

     Once she pushed in her seed, there was no one left.

     “Grand, welcome to the grove.” Vince looked to the Dryads. They all seemed woozy, listing from one side to the other. Almost drunkenly.

     Then again, Daphne and Karya passed out the first time.

     “Great. They’re drunk on it. Let’s seal this wound up and get them seated for a spell, and then we’ll get moving as soon as they recover,” Vince wiped up the blood with one hand and smeared it onto his leather breastplate.

     Karya made a happy moaning sound, her eyes slowly rolling down his figure. Her eyes were completely greened over and hungry.

     “Maybe you can pay me some attention tonight?” she asked, her voice a purr.

     “Sorry, Karya, if Eva will have me I plan on keeping her entertained.”

     At the mention of her name, all eyes turned to the Wood Elf.

     Eva turned a pale red, meeting Vince’s eyes for a moment, then turned away with a nod of her head to him.

     “There you have it. Sorry. I don’t want her to think it was a one night stand or anything.” Vince shrugged his shoulders.

     He’d taken Eva, and he planned on taking care of her as well.

     Moving swiftly, they’d simply crossed into the low mountains and hills to the southwest. From there they headed across to the west. Vince had no desire to take the straight path there.

     There was no reason to act like prey, after all. And prey followed that route straight into whatever end had met them.

     It’d only taken them two days to find a reasonable spot to set up camp. There was no way he was taking the entire group of Dryads with him, they’d only be in the way

     Assigning Ris as their lookout, Vince left Karya and the Dryads there. Gert, Set, Thera, Eva, and himself all headed across the path of the route and towards the northern side of it.

     He wasn’t sure how the people of Verix knew that the trouble was on the north side, but he had no reason to disbelieve them on this one.

     They were nothing if not desperate for him to get rid of the problem.

     “It means they underestimated the danger, but gave appropriate details for the location. I’ve seen it before on Ranger requests for eliminations. ‘There’s a band of Orcs here that I need moved, only five or so of them.’ But then it turns out to be a family clan of twenty and there isn’t much you can do but challenge the leader, hopefully win, and tell them to move on,” Vince explained, eyeing the metal post at the edge of the roadbed.

     “I see. Master, that seems very…” Eva trailed off, unsure how to say what she wanted to.

     “Self-centered. Mildly evil. Short sighted,” Vince supplied.

     Thera nodded her head in agreement, reaching up to touch the rusted sign at the top of the pole.

     “What does this mean, lord?” asked the Dark Elf.

     “Route six. I’d imagine they captured a human who called it route six, and they ended up changing the name over time. It’s from before the Wastes—this highway, that is. Before Elves came here.” Turning from the depressing reminder of the world ending, Vince headed up the embankment. Slipping between two young trees, Vince felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle.

     Definitely a predator. Not some simple misunderstanding or accident.

     “Packmaster, this place smells of territory,” Gert said, whuffing at the end. His tail went low as his head swiveled one way, then back the other.

     Set, riding in the harness made for his kind, peeked up over Gert’s shoulder and nodded. “Bad smell. Hunter. Should hide.”

     Vince smiled at that, moving swiftly and silently through the vegetation. “That means we’re in the right spot, that’s all.”

     No one said anything after that. Vince’s mood seemingly spread to them. They were hunting a hunter, which made them the alpha. Not prey.

     Time sped along with them as they went, the early morning dissolving to afternoon in the blink of an eye.

     They made one circuit to the north and were now wheeling around back west to move through another section.

     Something glittered in the brush in front of them, causing everyone to drop low.

     Ahead of them, a soft pulsing light moved from bush to bush, as if seeking something.

     It’s a fairy.

     Vince felt his lips pull into a smirk as he watched the tiny light.

     The fairy bobbed upwards, the light fading as it was struck by sunlight.

     It couldn’t have been more than a barely matured male of its kind.

     Two flashing red eyes were the only warning he had before a dark object leapt out of a low tree nearby.

     In the blink of an eye, the fairy was snatched out of the air and clasped in a clawed pale hand.

     Standing in front of them was a pale skinned creature. The eyes were a glowing red, the hair on its head was long and brown. Peeking up from that wild bird’s nest of hair were two triangular ears.

     The face was that of a woman, though the fingers of each hand ended in claws rather than nails.

     From head to toe, she was practically nude, pale as a bleached bone, and lined with dark gray veins. She had only a ratty brown cloak.

     To Vince, she reeked of death and foul magic. She didn’t have the health and vitality that one would expect.

     Her eyes were haunted, feral, and empty.

     Before he could think any further, she shoved the bottom end of the screaming fairy into her mouth and bit down.

     Tearing away the lower half of the fairy she stared off into the middle distance at nothing. As blood splashed down her hand she tilted the wailing fairy upward, as if trying to keep the blood inside it.

     Swallowing visibly, the monster lifted the fairy to her mouth again and tore off the torso and midsection in another bite, silencing the fairy.

     Then, in a final flick of her fingers, she popped the remains into her mouth and began to lick her fingers.

     Vince blinked twice. He’d long seen the worst of the Wastes, but he’d never seen a fairy eaten alive before his eyes.

     She looked like a Beast tribe member. A more humanoid cat clan type, but her skin tone, eyes, and fingers didn’t match.

     Truly, she had the appearance of death, or someone working under seriously bad black magic. The kind people didn’t invoke because it usually affected the caster worse than the victim.

     Hunkering down low in a sudden fit of movement, the creature looked to the west. Vince noticed she had a tail as she swished it low against the ground once, then held it perfectly still.

     He’d been hoping she was the reason for the missing Elves, but by herself he doubted she could do more than kill a lone Elf at best.

     Whatever had put her on high alert, though, was more than likely his real quarry. They were probably attracted by the smell of blood and the screams of the fairy’s brutal end.

     Vince held up one hand slowly, getting everyone’s attention. Closing his hand, he then held up two fingers and gestured to the left, indicating for two people to move out further to protect their flank.

     Then he made a fist with the hand and waited.

     This was an opportune chance to draw in their enemy, and ambush them.

     Maybe he’d get lucky and they’d kill the monster and get wounded, and then he could clean up the rest neatly and call it quits.

     Call it quits and call it a day, then retire to his bedroll.

     And Eva.

     Eva didn’t seem to mind the attention she was getting at night, though she’d been nervous the first time they’d coupled in her bedroll with everyone around them.

     Vince’s dreams were dashed as monsters from myth and legend came swarming out of the trees straight for the pale skinned woman.

     Wendigos? Really?

     Tall, hunched over, long thin limbs, bits of clothing hanging from their frames, they fit the very description of a Wendigo.

     Man eaters. Hunters of humanoid living flesh.

     Apparently they’d gotten a taste for Elf flesh and watched the roads.

     “Great,” Vince muttered, pulling his saber free of its sheath.

     Not that he could blame them, he’d grown fond of Elf skin himself. Eva definitely had some of the softest he’d encountered so far.

     Chapter 7

     There were seven of the Wendigos, and they were rapidly fanning out to surrounding the foul cat woman.

     “Resistant to magic,” Gert said quietly from beside him.

     Makes sense then why the High Elves find this problem vexing. To solve it, they probably sent very strong magicians. That got turned into High Elf magician steaks in short order.

     It’s not like their soldiers would be anymore strong or hearty than a human. Without their magic, they’re nothing out of the ordinary.

     Being magical creatures themselves, that means to kill the Wendigos, we need to decapitate them. That or carve out their heart.

     Wonderful.

     Vince waited as the Wendigos moved. He’d be happy when this was all over. He enjoyed traveling. Immensely so.

     He just hated being forced to take contracts from people he didn’t care for.

     “No,” hissed the red eyed woman “You bad. No eat. Go away.”

     He doubted anyone had been expecting her to be able to talk. Let alone judge the situation appropriately. Vince had been working under the assumption she was naught more than a beast.

     “Go away,” she said again, waving one clawed hand at them.

     It was at this moment that Vince realized he’d judged her poorly for her appearance, and hunting a fairy. Was she any different than a bear that took down a deer and ate it?

     No. She’s not.

     Slinking out of the brush, Vince kept his saber low and distant on his right side. With ghostly steps he closed in on the Wendigo he was nearest to.

     Unbelievably, at least to himself, he wasn’t discovered until he put his saber through the back of one of them. He’d angled the blade to go straight through the heart of the monster.

     The dying roar of the beast as it slumped forward shook the others from their hunt. Vince’s blade came free of its torso, the metal slick and dripping red.

     Red eyes locked to his own for a split second, before the cat woman leapt free of the circle. Her clawed hand dug furrows across the face of one of the Wendigos as she went.

     Vince wasted no time as they were now distracted by their would-be prey escaping.

     Crossing one foot over the other as he stepped to the left, he brought his bloody blade upward in a diagonal swing towards another Wendigo.

     Putting an arm out in front of itself, it deflected Vince’s sword stroke but lost everything below the forearm for it.

     Thera stepped up beside him, her sword moving forward in a lightning fast lunge.

     Her blade skewered it through the heart, its howl of pain at the loss of its arm cut short.

     Turning to the right, Vince pressed his back against Thera’s and whipped his blade around at a Wendigo who’d been closing in fast.

     Splitting the air at great speed, his sword clipped the top half of its head, sending it careening to the side.

     Four Wendigos remained and they had quickly circled up around Vince and Thera.

     An arrow blasted through one of their eyes, the back of its head exploding outward.

     At the same time, Gert and Set landed on another one, sending it to the ground.

     Gert went for its throat in wolf-like fashion as Set stabbed at its eyes with his Ratfolk spear.

     That left two more behind him that Thera was facing.

     Spinning to put himself on Thera’s left, he found that only one remained.

     The Dark Elf warrior took several steps to her right. Realizing what she was doing, Vince took a few to his left, putting them on either side of the last enemy.

     Its head went side to side from Thera, to Vince, then back as it considered which way to face.

     As it decided to face Vince and went into a low stance, another arrow crashed into its forehead.

     Crumpling to its knees from the shot, it was no longer in the fight.

     Moving forward quickly, Vince brought his saber across its chest in a wicked blow. The saber drove deep through its rib cage into what he hoped was its heart.

     Collapsing on its side, it moved no more.

     Getting down on his knees over the corpse, Vince called out loudly. “Pop the ribcage open and make sure the heart isn’t beating. If it is, pull it out and toss it. If it’s as magical as people make it out to be, it could probably survive wounds it shouldn’t.”

     Cracking open a rib, Vince found what he was looking for. The trembling heart of a Wendigo, pulsing softly.

     Reaching in, he hooked his fingers around it and yanked for all he was worth.

     The spasming muscle came free with a disgusting squelch and blood spraying everywhere.

     Grimacing at his bloody hand he held the heart aloft and then lobbed it to one side.

     “We clear?” he called, looking over his shoulder at the rest of his group. “Any injuries? Bites, scratches, anything at all?”

     Gert snorted and kicked aside a body. “All is well, Packmaster.”

     Set stood atop a Wendigo, puffed up and looking around.

     Thera stood up from the corpse she’d looked into the chest of. “No hearts beat, lord. All are sl—” Staring at something beyond him, Thera’s eyes widened.

     Looking in the same direction, Vince found himself staring into the red eyes of the cat woman as she feasted on a bloody heart. Probably the very one he’d thrown.

     In his haste to get rid of it, he’d probably thrown it at her.

     Who had apparently caught it and was currently eating it.

     She gave him a bloody toothed grin as she took a bite of the still quivering heart. “Thanks. Save me. Good meal,” she said, gesturing the heart at him. “Still alive. Feed for days.”

     Vince felt his eyebrows rise up.

     “Oh? That’s… good. I guess,” Vince said. Glancing back to his hands he realized they were blood drenched. “You uh… you enjoy your meal then. We’ll leave you to it.”

     Backing away from the creature he kept his eyes on her. Predators were predators after all and he wanted to give her no reason to attack.

     “Lets head back to camp, everyone. Slowly. Carefully. No movements that will attract attention.”

     Red cat eyes tracked him above a blood smeared mouth chewing happily on a Wendigo’s still twitching heart.

     My life is so strange, and yet this is almost normal.

     Despite the irreverent thought, he somehow managed to maintain eye contact until a tree blocked them from seeing each other.

     Turning quickly from the area, Vince headed out at a jog. Thera, Eva, Gert, and Set fell in beside him.

     “You think that’s it, Master?” Eva asked.

     “Other than the freaky cat lady, I do. High Elf versus a magical resistant Wendigo. It’d be like asking a fish to fight a bear. No wonder they never heard anything from their people. Let’s get back, and put our feet to the road. I’d like to be quit of this place and Verix,” Vince said determinedly.

     In fact, the job wasn’t even half as hard as he’d thought it would be.

     It was almost a let down.

     Turning his thoughts from that, he focused on the slaves of Verix.

     And how he was on his way to free them.

     Some would be offered a new home in Yosemite, others their freedom and well wishes. That was all dependent on their attitude.

     Yosemite City could always use more hands, and he’d be more than happy to take them in.

     If they were the right people.

     The trip back was quick. Almost hurried.

     Vince drove them a bit hard but he couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched after he rejoined the rest of his party.

     His first thought was the red eyed cat woman had chased after them, but after ranging out around them he found absolutely nothing. Not a trace of anything. Bootprint, claw marks, nothing. There wasn’t a single sign of something watching or following, but he still couldn’t shake that feeling.

     His group stopped at the point they’d made camp last time and split in half.

     Thera, Eva, and himself went into the city, while his scouts and Dryads remained at camp.

     After announcing himself, and receiving renewed guest-rights, it took only an hour for him to be hustled into the same assembly hall he’d been in only days previous.

     In fact, the High Elven council was already present.

     “You’ve returned quickly. Was the task beyond your means?” grumped one of the Elves.

     “No. The job is done. It was a pack of Wendigos. And I’ll be happy to swear on a life-oath for that. With that bit of business being done. I think it’s time we talked about my payment.”

     Vince stared out at the assembly before him. He’d not let them move this conversation any further until he was satisfied on this point. He truly didn’t want to deal with anyone participating in the slave trade beyond what he’d already had to endure.

     “All slaves have been released. They’re no longer slaves, and we’ll not be taking any further slaves. Per your request,” Caern said loudly.

     Waiting to see if anyone keeled over, Vince said nothing. The life-oath would kick in as he’d claimed he’d fulfilled his end of the bargain. As no one fell over, most especially Caern, Vince was surprised.

     They actually released them.

     “Great. And the count?” Vince asked.

     “Seven-hundred and some odd,” clarified a different Elf.

     Vince couldn’t be sure if they were in fact all the same Elves as last time. Truth be told they shared too many traits for his taste and seemed to be uniform in features.

     Almost like it was a family rather than an elected assembly.

     “Okay. I’m willing to pay five standards per hea—”

     “That isn’t necessary. We’ve employed all the slaves with work and they’ll be remaining here,” said yet a different Elf.

     Something’s wrong here. That’s not part of the bargain.

     “I see. I’d like to speak to them then. As they’re not slaves, they’re free to do as they please. I plan to offer them a home and work, but no pay. If what you’re saying is true, there’s no reason they’ll take me up on my offer.” Vince straightened his shoulders and locked his wrists behind his back.

     At his words, Thera shifted her weight around, her left hand grabbing the mouth of her sheath.

     Eva’s hands casually moved along the length of her bow, bringing it around to the front of herself.

     Apparently they’d sensed the change in his emotional state, and could feel the tension bleeding off of him.

     “Again, that isn’t really nec—”

     “It is. Because that was part of the bargain. You’d free them and they could do as they like as they’d no longer be slaves. You’re saying you freed them, so they can do as they please, right?” Vince said, interrupting the speaker.

     “Well, you see, Vince. They all owe a great to us for providing them with homes, food, and board. They’re bonded to repay us before they can depart. And before you ask, you couldn’t possibly repay their debt as that isn’t the honorable or sensible thing to do,” Caern said smoothly, his eyes flat as he stared at Vince.

     So. They dropped the term slave from the contract, and obeyed the life-oath to the letter of the law. Then shackled them to slavery of another kind. Debt that they’d never be able to repay.

     “I see. I think that concludes our business then.” Vince gave them all a cold smile and then turned on his heel, heading for the exit.

     No one tried to stop him, and no one said a word.

     They already planned out their approach and what would happen for each situation. There was no surprise in them at his departure.

     No, this was well within their expectations of possible scenarios.

     Fuck them. Cheat me, will they? I’ll make an example of you. You’ll regret this terribly.

     Oh yes.

     All will fear welshing on a deal with Yosemite.

     Unable to control his rage, his vision turning dark as the blood pounded in his temples.

     Before it could completely overtake him of his reasoning, Vince lashed out.

     His fist crashed into the frame of the entryway into the assembly hall.

     The solid rock splintered, shattering under the force of the blow.

     Cracks began to rapidly radiate out from the point of origin. Flakes of stone fell away, and an entire section fell inward. The cracks stopped after reaching outward six feet down the wall.

     Snorting, Vince kept walking, Elves squawking indignantly behind him.

     He saw nothing other than the trail of death he wanted desperately to leave here. With Thera and Eva at his side, he was sure he could kill every single fool in Verix.

     Or so his anger promised him.

     The rage wanted it. Needed it. Begged for it.

     To drown the city in its own blood. To bathe in it and liberally cover the walls in a fresh coat of paint.

     Taking in a shuddering breath, his body convulsing as he did so, Vince slowly began to master his anger.

     Slowly.

     Painfully.

     They spent the next several days in camp. Letting the High Elven scouts pass by them. The enemy never realizing Vince was right there.

     Camouflage was easier than breathing when you had as many Dryads on hand as Vince did. Doubly so when they were working together for one goal.

     Gert and Set had been sent back to Yosemite to prepare the way. They were to get in touch with Elysia and inform her of the entire situation. They were also responsible for telling her of Vince’s plans.

     Ris kept an eye out, watching and keeping track of the number of High Elf patrols sent out.

     It wasn’t until the fourth day that the Elves had returned to a normal pattern.

     On the fifth day, Vince felt reasonably assured that they had assumed he and his band had left for home.

     Or so we hope. If they’re waiting for us, this is going to turn into a shit show pretty fast.

     Sighing, Vince scratched at the back of his head as he stared at the city wall.

     “It’ll be fine, Master,” Eva said.

     “Yes, Lord. Be assured, we will succeed,” Thera agreed.

     “I know. Of your own ability, I have no doubt. My real concern is getting everyone out before sunrise, and getting far enough away that it matters. I don’t think we could commit to a rearguard action between the four of us and guide them home.”

     Karya pressed herself into his side, her hands latching on to his armor. “Get us to that valley, and leave it to me and my girls from there. And then maybe you can reward me? Maybe spend a night with me?”

     Ever since he’d started taking his evenings with Eva she’d reverted back to how she was before he’d lavished her with his attention.

     “Impress me,” Vince said, giving the green eyed monster a smirk.

     Karya took in a deep breath while giving him that one of a kind Karya grin. “Think you could shame me as a reward?”

     “I can do that. In fact, I think I finally figured out how to really shame you,” Vince said.

     He’d been putting some serious thought into her and her needs. She wasn’t Meliae, who wanted to be used, abused, and put away wet.

     Or Daphne, who was as direct as could be, but the most shy of all of them. For her, shame was as simple as being watched while playing in the bed.

     Then there was Karya, who for all intents and purposes felt no shame at being used. Publicly or privately. He’d had to poke around in her head a few times during their nightly runs previously, but he’d found his answer.

     Leaning his head down to her ear, he gave it a tender kiss, nipping it ever so gently with his lips, and then nuzzled her neck.

     “You don’t feel it the same way Meliae does or Daphne. You’re the reverse. If I make love to you tenderly, where everyone can see your feelings, then you’ll be embarrassed. Which is your shame.”

     Karya’s eyes greened over, her fingers clenching on his armor. “Yes,” she whispered.

     “Earn it then,” he said, kissing her ear again.

     “Off we go then,” Vince said suddenly.

     Stepping around Karya, he moved forward.

     Towards the very fields that would lead to the walls of Verix.

     The plan was fairly simple. Breach the wall, get in, move the slaves out. After that it was running pell-mell to a valley for Karya to do whatever she and the other Dryads had worked out.

     On top of that, they had a touch of luck tonight. The night was a new moon, and the land was incredibly dark.

     It’d put an Elf’s night vision to task and challenge even them to see what was going on.

     Unexpected boons always made him paranoid. They were just as likely to go the opposite way.

     “Three on the wall,” Karya whispered.

     Looking to the wall, Vince couldn’t see anything. The dark of the night taxed his own night vision to its limit. They kept moving.

     Luckily, or perhaps unluckily according to his paranoia, they made it to the wall without being spotted or revealed.

     The cold stone chilled his back as he held his position against the wall. Staring up along the smooth stone he let out a slow breath.

     It wasn’t interlocking stone, it was just… stone. Smooth, solid, untouched stone. He wasn’t sure if that would make it easier or harder for his Elves.

     Taking two steps from the wall, Thera held up a hand and pressed it to the wall. A dark rectangle popped up on the wall.

     Eva slid over, and pushed her hand into the inky blackness that her sister created.

     Vince looked to the left, then back to the right. There wasn’t much he could do while they worked other than keep lookout.

     “Only two in range now,” Karya said softly. “No one seems to be on alert, or even concerned.”

     “Confidence will be their downfall this evening. Renege on a deal with me, will they?” Vince felt the anger welling up slowly from inside himself.

     Inexorably, it began to overwhelm his good sense.

     Karya’s soft warm lips pressed to his cheek. “We’ll make them pay, Darling. Calm yourself. Save all that energy for me, for later.”

     Chapter 8

     Thera and Eva were carefully magicking away the stone. Thera liquefied it, Eva redistributed it “elsewhere”, as she put it.

     “We’re about to break through,” Thera whispered.

     Vince stepped into the cut they’d made. It was wide enough for two people to walk side by side. Moving to the opposite end, he unsheathed his saber and waited quietly.

     Karya had already assured him that no one was on the other side, but he would rather be ready.

     Then the last bit of shadowed wall fell away, and he could see into the “slave” quarter.

     All was quiet and still. There wasn’t a noise, light, or disturbance to be found.

     It was eerie. Yet exactly like last time.

     “No time like the present then,” Vince said, stepping into the empty lane. Moving to the closest home he knocked on the door, and then waited.

     Eva, Thera, and Karya waited in the street. Nervous eyes and fingered weapons marked each one of them.

     The door opened a crack, and Vince could barely make out a sliver of a face.

     “Good evening. My name is Vince. I’m here to give you your freedom and take you away from the city.”

     “Me? Why me?” asked a quiet voice.

     “You, and everyone in this quarter,” Vince said around a vicious grin. “If you could help me wake up your neighbors, that’d be great.”

     “I… my neighbors?”

     “Yep. I’m going to go across the street and tell them the same thing. Then I’m going to go to the next street over and do the same thing.”

     Turning partially away from the door he nodded to the homeowner. “You go down your side of the street and start waking people up. Have everyone head right over there,” Vince said, pointing to the hole in the wall. “Take only what you can carry in a pack, as we have no wagons, and no time. Preferably as much food and water as they can carry though.”

     Vince waved at the door and headed across the street to repeat the same speech.

     “Damned Pied Piper of Verix,” Vince murmured with a dark chuckle.

     They’d been at the evacuation for two hours already. The steady stream of ex-slaves exiting the wall and across the field would have been spotted for sure, if not for Karya telling people when it was safe to speed across the open field when the guards were too far apart.

     Eva was at the halfway point between the camp and the city, directing people along.

     The Dryads would be guiding everyone from there to the valley they were gathering in.

     Standing in the main plaza, Vince waited. Thera and Eva were doing a final sweep of the quarter to see if there was anyone they’d missed.

     His anger was cooled now, though not spent. He’d exacted his revenge.

     Expertly so.

     But he felt petty. Vindictive even.

     In the middle of the plaza was a blank plinth. As if a statue would have been put there, but no one had ever bothered.

     Eva and Thera shadowed up to him, appearing beside him, one on each side.

     “Nothing, Lord.”

     “Master, not a soul remains.”

     “Good. Let me just leave a note, and we’ll get out of here,” Vince said, scrambling up the plinth.

     “A note, Master?”

     “Lord, perhaps something else?”

     “Huh? What d’ya have in mind?”

     Eva lifted one hand and then spread her fingers out.

     A tall stone obelisk shimmered into existence beside him.

     “Huh. That’s rather impressive,” Vince said, truly surprised. “Can’t really carve what I want without it being loud though.”

     “What do you wish to say, Lord?” Thera asked, moving around to the front of the obelisk.

     “Oh… something simple, ya know. ‘By the terms of our agreement, I’ve collected my fee for the task I completed. Please send your bill to Yosemite and the account will be settled. Sincerely, Vince.’”

     Thera snickered and then lifted a hand towards the stone.

     A heartbeat later, and flaming red letters blackened the stone. The sound of sizzling stone was audible, but not very loud.

     As the glow faded, he could see it was exactly what he’d said out loud. “Nice job, Thera. Alright, let’s go. We’re done here and I’d like to be on the road.”

     Vince hopped down from the plinth and set off for the hole.

     Karya waved them on as they approached. “No one’s watching, let’s go, Darling.”

     Not waiting around for further instructions, Vince kept right on jogging, heading out into the field.

     Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Thera and Eva closing up the hole in under three seconds.

     Must be quicker to fill it up than carefully break it down.

     Finishing their work, they sprinted off after him.

     He couldn’t look away as he watched the Elves in their long-legged, graceful stride.

     At least until he almost tripped, barely catching his balance and not taking a face dive.

     Without being caught, or even noticed, they slipped free of the fields of Verix.

     Setting a quick pace, they caught up with the tail end of the group. It was being led by a Dryad he didn’t know, but he at least recognized her as one of his.

     “Grove master!” blurted out the Dryad, moving to intercept him.

     Karya was there before she could get to Vince. She put herself between her and the Dryad and pointed forwards. “Keep moving. We have to get to the valley before they start looking. We need time to prep.”

     The Dryad looked to Karya then nodded her head, moving to the front of the group.

     Honestly, the entire exchange was an odd one, or so Vince thought.

     “They’re going to look for any opportunity to be near you. Until we can get everything stable, it’s best to keep them apart from you. Sorry, Darling,” Karya explained.

     Apparently he hadn’t hid his confusion very well.

     “Not a problem. Just seemed a little strange, that’s all.”

     “Not so odd, Master. Often we find ourselves discouraging others from trying to get close to you,” Eva said.

     “It’s true. We do the same, Lord,” Thera concurred. “Karya is doing nothing different than we ourselves do at home.”

     “Ok, got it. Sorry. I wasn’t trying to make anyone feel like they’d done wrong.”

     Karya’s green eyes went from Thera to Eva, before giving them a bright smile.

     Not sure when the Elf and Dryad factions banded together, but it’s not going to make my life any easier.

     Silence stepped in as Vince retreated into his thoughts. Grass passed by underfoot with every pace.

     Eventually trees shrouded them in true darkness as they moved deeper and deeper into the wilderness west of Verix.

     The path was sure and straight though. Whomever had chosen the route to the valley had been keen on making it simple.

     Internally, Vince’s paranoia shrieked at him.

     Anything this easy of a path, with how many pairs of feet that come through, would be a bonfire to any decent tracker.

     Rather than voice his fear here and now, he’d reserve it for the right time.

     He’d only panic everyone and it’d serve no purpose.

     But what do we do? Karya seems certain that she can shroud an entire valley and keep us hidden. But for how long? The time limit on this was always the morning after the breakout.

     Guards will come to collect the slaves for their work duties, find them missing. From that point, the hunt is on.

     It’s not like they’ll give up quickly, would they?

     Think, Vince, think.

     All too soon, they stopped jogging through the woods. They’d reached the valley and its promised safety.

     Now what?

      

     Before the sun had even climbed into the sky the next day, Elven patrols were sweeping through the area all around them. Groups of two or three were practically running to find Vince and his freed peoples.

     Karya had assured him that there would be no followable trail, as she’d been encouraging the land to cover it for them as they went. Being in the Wastes she told him the land was much more responsive to their needs.

     He hadn’t believed it, until Ris had reported in that the vast majority of the scouting parties were heading along the trade routes and normal roads.

     Everything had been going according to plan.

     So when one of the Dryads crumpled to their knees and then slumped to the side, he wasn’t surprised. When things were going too well, things had to go wrong.

     That’s just how life is.

     Vince was beside the Dryad in a heartbeat, propping her head up gently.

     Cradling her there in the grass, Vince looked around to see if he could find Karya. She’d been on the move in the last few minutes, though now he suspected he knew why.

     Whatever they were doing to fool the Elves, it was taxing them.

     Sunset was only a few minutes away now, and darkness would rule the land in an hour.

     Catching sight of Karya he stared at her, waiting for her to turn and look in his direction so he could get her help.

     He wasn’t sure what was wrong with the Dryad, and he didn’t know how or if he could even help.

     As if summoned to do so by his will, Karya turned around and looked straight at him. Then she was rushing over to him as she noticed the fallen Dryad.

     “Goodness. She should have told me, the silly thing,” Karya said, fussing over the Dryad. Her fingers pressing to the sides of the fallen woman’s throat.

     “Tell you what, exactly?” Vince asked. “I’ve been very generous in letting you do as you would, Karya. But I think at this point I deserve an answer as to what exactly you’re doing.”

     Karya bit her lip and then smoothed the woman’s hair back from her face. “The inverse of what a Dryad normally does. We’re charming people to go away from here.

     “Some of these girls are so young though, that they don’t have the strength for it. She pushed herself a touch too far, and passed out. She’ll be fine, though she’ll probably have a headache when she wakes up.

     “I’m sorry, Darling. We’ve failed you.”

     “Hardly. All it means is we need to move on to the next part of the plan. If we swing south, we can move down and around the mountain range, then north along the interior side of it. It’s far more likely to have food we can scavenge, hunt, or barter for. We’ve far too many mouths to feed, and not nearly enough food.”

     Karya turned her head to the side. She still looked angry at herself for her perceived failing.

     “If you can get us to nightfall, Eva and Thera might be able to conceal us long enough for us to make our escape. Can you do that, Karya? My lovely little Dryad?” Vince asked.

     Karya lifted a hand and pressed it to her cheek. “I think so. But it’ll tire my girls. They’ll need to be carried from here.”

     “I’m sure there are very willing arms and legs who can bear such a weight as we make our escape. Once we get a bit further away, and I feel safer, we can cull the herd, so to speak. Give everyone the chance to walk away or come with us.”

     “They’re all going to come. They knew of Yosemite City before we arrived.”

     “Great. So, keep us hidden till nightfall?”

     “I… I can do that.”

     Vince nodded and then laid the Dryad back to the ground, arranging her clothes and limbs to be as comfortable as he could.

     Stepping away from Karya and the unconscious Dryad, Vince moved to where Ris was perched nearby.

     Walking up to the tree branch he smiled at the fairy. “Evenin’, Ris. I have a favor to ask.”

     Ris said nothing, but simply stared at Vince, waiting.

     “I need you to get back to Yosemite City, and tell Elysia I’ll be coming up from the south with a large number of people. I don’t know how she can help, but anything she can do would be appreciated. Got the gist of the message?”

     “Yes! Ris has been given a life or death important message! Ris will not fail!” The tiny fairy zipped off without another word.

     Sighing, Vince watched the miniature comet zoom off.

     Best of luck and thank you.

     “Elf taste bad,” grumbled a whimsical voice from a bush nearby.

     A pair of red flickering eyes watched him from the foliage.

     The monster from the woods had indeed been following him.

     For days.

     No wonder his senses had been crying out. He’d been literally treated as prey.

     “Taste bad, but good meal. Ate four. Many days meal. You show where good meal is, so I share. You want rest this one? Others in dirt. Hid them.”

     Two gray clawed hands came out of the greenery to roll a dead High Elf towards him. The body flopped over, one arm hitting the grass and the other laying on its bloody chest.

     The man’s face was frozen in a look of empty eyed horror. His chest had been smashed open. He couldn’t tell from this distance but he was betting the heart had been ripped out.

     Where the good meal is? As in, I showed her to pull out the beating heart?

     “I ah… I’m good. Already ate. Can you put that one in the dirt, too? So the others don’t find it and scare off the prey?” Vince asked, trying his best to hit her predatory mind.

     “You full? Good. I hide in dirt, then back.”

     Those gray clawed hands snapped out and sunk into the dead Elf’s chest, then dragged it back into the bush.

     As if she was never there, she vanished.

     She made Vince, Thera, and Eva all look like clumsy newborn deer.

     “Holy shit,” Vince said after ten seconds passed. She was an incredible hunter. They’d gotten lucky finding her first, before she found them back there in the Wendigo woods.

     “Darling, I can’t sense the scouts that were in the area. I think they’ve left,” Karya said from behind him. “I think we should get moving. How do you want to do this?”

     Vince turned his eyes from the bush his stalker had been in, and looked to the Dryad.

     Behind her was her troop of Dryads. All were on their feet, though a few looked unsteady.

     “Ah, we head south. Across the ridge and onto an old road to the southwest. The signs are faded but it leads down south, down and around the mountains. Longer, but safer.”

     Karya gave a short bob of her head and turned to other Dryads and began giving orders to them.

     Vince tracked down Eva and Thera and gave them the same information he’d given Karya.

     Soon after that, the entire group was on the move.

     Slow and ponderous, the group moved out of the valley and into the plains to the south west. It was slow going. Terrifyingly so.

     There were several times where they’d been forced to speed up or slow down, depending on what Karya felt was nearby.

     As unlikely as it felt to Vince, their luck held, and not a single patrol was heading their way.

     Vince wasn’t quite sold on the luck factor, and thought back to a pair of red eyes. Red eyes that had told him Elven hearts were “good meals” and that she’d eaten a number of them already.

     He’d have to see to this stalker of his at some point, he didn’t imagine for a second she’d simply leave him alone.

     She seemed like an imprinted animal more than anything. A tamed wolf that seemed content to eat whatever their owner brought or put down nearby.

     In this case, Elves.

     “Karya,” Vince said suddenly, making up his mind.

     “Yes, Darling?” Karya had remained at his side, her Dryads spread throughout the mass tagging along behind them. Thera and Eva were both working the rear of the mob.

     “Remember that creature I mentioned in the woods? The red eyed one?”

     “Yes, I do. She sounds as if she’s under a curse or… well, undead. Why?”

     “She’s still around. I’m pretty sure she’s been following me. She showed up just before we headed out. She said she’d killed and eaten the hearts of four Elves.

     “I’m not sure this is the best time and place to bring it up, but I think it might be prudent. I’m almost positive she’s why you keep feeling scouts that simply go ‘out of range.’ They’re not going out of range, they’re being eaten.”

     Karya chewed on her lower lip, her left hand coming up to worry at a lock of hair.

     “I don’t like the sound of that. Cursed creatures and undead would definitely eat hearts. Neither of those are something we really want to mess with. Powerful magic surrounds the first, and the latter is simply hard to kill.

     “Daphne fought a few she told me once. Said she ended up running away from them.”

     Vince grunted at that, tossing the thought from his mind. It wasn’t like they could do anything about it anyways.

     “I’ll talk to Meliae about it when we get back. Her mother is far more experienced and instilled a great deal of knowledge in her,” Karya said, nodding her head.

     Then she pouted. “I miss Meliae and Daphne.”

     Laughing softly, Vince wrapped an arm around her shoulders and drew her in for a hug as they went.

     “Posh, my lovely Dryad. I’ll keep you company tonight and make love to you in front of everyone. In the middle of seven hundred people. They’ll watch me undress you slowly, carefully, worshiping that lovely body of yours. Then make love to you as gently and tenderly as I can.”

     Karya’s face turned a dark red color, her throat constricting twice. “Really?” she asked after she got a hold of herself.

     “Yes. Really.

     Chapter 9

     Travel was done at night, moving through the plains as they followed the road south.

     They never made contact with any patrols, Elven or otherwise.

     It wasn’t surprising considering they were moving through what could only be politely described as a desert. If one wasn’t being polite, you’d call it a sandy death plain where things went to die.

     The only thing that gave them the ability to travel through here with so many people, and manage it without losses, was a Dryad’s innate ability to find drinkable water. Karya made it a point to remind him of her contributions and how he could repay her.

     Much to her chagrin he continued to spend every other night with Eva. It only made Karya more aggressive during the days it wasn’t her turn.

     Thera, for her part, seemed amused by the whole thing. Content that she had no part of the situation as of yet.

     “It’s because she knows she’ll get her turn,” Karya said, watching him.

     “Huh? What?” Vince asked guiltily, looking at Karya.

     “Thera. She’s not as interested anymore, because she’s certain she’ll get her turn eventually. You wouldn’t take Eva without having decided to take them all.”

     “I didn’t say anything about that.”

     “You didn’t have to. Your face scrunches up when you’re thinking, and you were staring at her. She likes you staring at her, by the way. I know I do.”

     “Hmph. You’re fucking with me, aren’t you,” Vince accused, turning his gaze to the beaten road they were taking.

     “No. That was last night, Darling, after we stopped just before dawn. My dearest love. Beautiful and sexy man. You embarrassed me terribly. I can’t even think about what you’ve been doing to me without getting excited. I love you so much.”

     Vince shook his head with a chuckle. All he’d done was make love to her in front of everyone. She was certainly easier to please than Meliae. That lovely broken Dryad seemed to require deeper and more horrible levels of shame each month.

     Soon he’d be walking her around town on a leash as foreplay.

     “Maybe when we get home, you can lay me out in the town square at sunset and— What’s that? It feels terribly abnormal.”

     Following the direction her arm was pointing, he saw what looked like a clothed lump on the side of the road in the distance.

     “Probably a corpse. The Wastes are a terrifying and horrible place. Most especially for humans.”

     As they got closer, the tattered and torn clothes flapped in the gentle breeze.

     Revealing pale gray skin. Gray skin that belonged to only one person he knew.

     “Damn, I think it’s my red eyed stalker. Did she die?”

     Picking up his pace, Vince jogged over to her.

     Dropping down to one knee over her in the cold sand, he reached up and eased her onto her back.

     Her chest rose and fell, though slowly.

     Weakly.

     Eyelids fluttered open, revealing glowing red eyes.

     Eyes full of hunger and a predatory gleam.

     A hand shot up and pressed to his leather armor, then stopped dead.

     Recognition came into her eyes a second before she dropped her hand to the ground.

     “Hunger. No food here. No prey that not yours,” murmured the woman.

     “She’s a Cursed One. Not technically an Undead but kinda. I don’t recognize her race but… she almost looks like a Beast tribe. Though way more on the human side of it,” Karya said.

     Looking over his shoulder, he found Karya peering over it at the woman.

     “Ok?” Vince asked, hoping to get a bit more info from her.

     “She was the target of a curse, or put a curse on someone else. Then was devoured by it. She’s… not dead, but not alive. She’s more like a vampire. Feeding on the life force of others.”

     “I see. She said there was nothing to eat that didn’t belong to me.”

     “Oh,” Karya said, turning her head to look at the distant Elves closing in on them. “I see. There’s very little in the way of life out here.”

     Vince frowned, turning his head back to the fallen woman.

     “She could have torn your heart out, you realize,” Karya said softly.

     “Yes. She didn’t.”

     “Would you save her if you could?” she asked in a whisper.

     “I… suppose I would. I can’t guarantee it, but I really do believe she was eating the Elven scouts. She’s… a monster but I owe her.”

     “Any less monstrous than Kitch? Or Fes?”

     “Ahhh… yeah, you’re right. Yes. I would save her.”

     “Pick her up. We’ll take her to our next camp and I’ll see what I can do.”

     Nodding his head, Vince slid the Cursed woman over his shoulder, pulling her arm across and her leg on the other side.

     Balancing her on his shoulders, Vince got back to his feet and started walking forward again.

     Karya flitted off without another word, moving into the massive group of Elves and vanishing amongst their number.

     “Hunger,” whimpered the woman. Her eyes opened to slits, the red eyes peeking out in between her lids. “Much hunger.”

     “I know. I’ll see what I can do just… rest, ok?”

     “Rest,” she repeated. Then her eyes closed, and her body slowly went slack. Soft whispering breaths were the only indicator she yet lived.

     Putting one foot in front of the other, Vince trundled along, carrying his unexpected visitor.

     Karya returned twenty minutes later with two Dryads in tow. And what looked like a rolled up tent in its carrying bag.

     He had no idea where she’d gotten it, but he imagined it wouldn’t be a bad idea to put his stalker under cover.

     The day would be harsh and he didn’t figure someone already starving to death would do well under an open sun.

     “There’s a deep ridge on the west side. If we enter it,” Karya said, lifting a hand to point towards a rocky area near the edge of the road, “we can get some cover for everyone during the day and rest easier.”

     Vince only nodded his head with a soft grunt. Turning his feet in that direction, he kept on keeping on.

     “Also, I’m certain I can save your stalker. Though it’ll bind her to you, much in the way a Dryad is. Are you willing to be responsible for her?” Karya asked, keeping pace with him.

     “Bind her to me? How exactly, and how would I be responsible for her?”

     “She’s cursed. Everyone agrees on that point. We can use that curse to bind her to you. A contract.

     “As for being responsible for her, you’d be responsible for feeding her. That’d be your part of the contract. She feeds on life force. There’s a few things we can give her that’ll appease her. Won’t even cost you a thing or harm anyone.”

     “And what does the contract involve?” Vince asked. His hackles were rising, something wasn’t being said.

     Karya sighed and rubbed a hand against her arm. “You’ll have to spit in her mouth, and bleed into her mouth. Your life force is enough in both to form a binding. If she’s willing to contract with you, she’ll be fine. If she’s not, she’ll die.”

     Blowing a raspberry, Vince found himself annoyed.

     Picking up every stray I come across.

     “Alright. I can handle that. I think. She seems… mildly useful for deep Waste missions at least. Is there anything I need to know? Do you actually foresee any problems out of this?”

     “No. None at all. Fes will appreciate having more power.”

     That she would, actually.

     The two Dryads with Karya jogged ahead of them and began setting up the tent. It was larger than he had originally guessed. It would easily fit six people sleeping side by side.

     “And who are they?” Vince nodded to the two Dryad women. He couldn’t remember seeing them earlier when they were all planting seeds in him.

     “My grove wives,” Karya said with a hint of pride in her voice. “We picked them up recently. They’ll need to put their seeds in you soon, but not yet.”

     “Uh…”

     Vince wasn’t completely in the know about Dryad culture, but he felt like he knew a fair amount. He’d never heard of this.

     “Dryad groves survive by banding together. Men will come and go, but the Dryads remain. Well, other men would have come and gone, you’ll be here as long as we are,” Karya admitted with an energetic laugh.

     Stopping in front of the two Dryads as they worked, Karya continued.

     “Normally Meliae would get first pick, but I have a need of them, and I’m here. I’ll give up my next set of picks to her so we’re even.

     “They’ll serve as my handmaidens and whatever other tasks I give them. As the grove expands, they’ll in turn have their own grove wives to serve in a similar fashion.

     “It becomes somewhat of a pyramid. Meliae, Daphne, and myself will be at the peak. These lucky girls will be that second level,” Karya said, gesturing at the two women.

     “Can they say no? I mean, it almost sounds akin to slavery.”

     “Well. They can’t really say no, it’s part of the oath to the grove. There are limits though. I can’t order them to harm, of themselves or the grove. I can’t order them to sleep with anyone and they’re not allowed to sleep with anyone other than the man of the grove—you, that is—or me,” Meliae said. “But otherwise, they must obey.”

     They did go into this willingly… knowingly. They weren’t forced into this and they knew this would be part of joining the grove.

     “And do I get to know their names or—”

     “Not yet. For now they serve as my wives, and your concubines. In time, you may be given their names depending on how they perform for you. Who knows, maybe in a few years you decide to elevate one to a wife’s position instead of a concubine. Then they’ll move up to the same rank as myself, and I’ll have to get a new wife.” Karya shrugged her shoulders at that.

     To her it all seemed like very normal and boilerplate contract laws.

     At her casual admission that they could be elevated, both the Dryad women looked up.

     The one on the left was slim for a Dryad. Lithe to the point of Elven standards of beauty. She had a narrow waistline, and more than an Elf in the chest.

     Dark brown straight hair fell across her shoulders as if it were curtains.

     She was unmistakably a Dryad.

     Except for the fact that she had one bright blue eye, and one green Dryad eye.

     Turning a faint red when she realized Vince was staring at her, the Elven-built Dryad turned her head to the side, getting back to work.

     The second Dryad was almost as different from normal Dryads as the first one was.

     She couldn’t even be five feet in height unless she was wearing shoes. She looked more like she was four foot ten on a good day.

     Small, with a normal build, and curvier than her frame looked like it could support, she seemed almost like a diminutive version of Meliae.

     Her face had a dusting of freckles, and her hair was a vibrant and curly red with streaks of gold in it. Unlike her companion though, her eyes were a standard Dryad green.

     “Well, that’s different,” Vince said, staring. They were so unlike any Dryad he’d ever seen that he couldn’t look away.

     “Indeed! It’s why I picked them. They’re so different than anything else you have that I’m betting they’ll catch your interest. If I can get you to spend more time with them, I get a strong peer who’ll no longer be my wife, but still mine. Best power alliance you can get in a grove.”

     “Ah. Smart power play on your part then. Definitely unique though. Very unique.”

     “Oh? I did good? You like my wives?” Karya asked, moving in closer to him. “Maybe I should give you their names after all.”

     “Actually, I do like them. They’re exactly what you said. Different. Different is good.”

     He wouldn’t bother to disguise his interest. They were long past talking about his sexual appetites. And Karya would probably dig at him till he admitted it anyways.

     “For now… call them Blue and Green. That’ll be fine till I give you their names,” said Karya, indicating the one with the heterochromia as “Blue” and the short one as “Green”.

     Both Dryads couldn’t ignore the conversation if they tried, and both had turned bright red.

     Blue’s eyes actually colored accordingly, one eye greening over, the other going a full blue.

     In a few seconds more, they finished the tent.

     Not waiting for an invitation, Vince stepped in and then gently laid his stalker down on the ground against a tent wall.

     “By the way, Darling,” Karya said, entering the tent. “Eva won’t be available tonight. I’m afraid your evening entertainment is Dryad. I do hope we’ll be enough for you.”

     Blue and Green stepped into the tent, Blue taking a minute to button up the flaps. Green had a low folding chair in hand and set it in the center of the tent.

     “Three performers, one stage.” Karya stepped in close to him and then quickly and easily began undressing him.

     Vince snorted and then shrugged. “Fine.”

     Far be it from him to say no to a four-way with Dryads.

     “Blue, Green, get your tops off and then get over here,” Karya ordered, her fingers deftly working at Vince’s belt. “He likes to watch as you work.”

     Flipping the tongue of the leather out of the buckle she unhitched it. Hooking her fingers into his underclothes, she kneeled down and pulled him out of his pants, boxers, socks, and boots.

     “Sit on the edge, Darling. They’ll need easy access.” Karya eased him onto the chair, then spread his knees apart with a quick move of her hands.

     “Blue, Green, kneel. Time for you to show how much you paid attention during my lesson.”

     Moving around behind him, Karya nibbled at his earlobe and whispered for him alone. “Forgive me, I must train my wives eventually, and tonight is a good night. Not everyone had a mother as knowledgeable and powerful as Meliae. These poor girls don’t know a thing about men. I’ve been giving them as much information as I can since I chose them.”

     Vince looked from one Dryad to the other, both of them kneeling between his knees.

     His member stood at full mast, pointing at the spot between them, waiting for attention.

     Karya certainly knew his tastes and had aimed to please him.

     “Ok, Blue, I need you to put that lovely rod of his in your mouth just like we talked about,” Karya commanded. She wrapped her arms around Vince’s shoulders and laid her mouth next to his ear.

     Blue eased her head down and hesitantly wrapped her lips around Vince’s length.

     “Green, you slide underneath. You’ll need to use your tongue till it’s your turn. Focus on his balls and the spot between his sack and his… well…. butthole. See what he likes, memorize it.”

     Vince raised his eyebrows at that as Green ducked down. He felt her tongue immediately slide from his balls all the way up his taint.

     Stiffening for a second, he relaxed as her tongue moved back down.

     He really wasn’t quite sure how he felt about it, but it was definitely different.

     “Blue, you need to suck a bit more firmly on it, but not too firmly. He needs to feel the friction of your tongue and lips as well as the suction. Your goal is to make sure you go from hilt to tip every time. Get your nose pressed into his stomach and your chin in his nuts.

     “Use your hands to stroke his inner thighs and swirl your tongue like we practiced.”

     Blue looked up at Vince and lanced him with those lovely miscolored eyes. Completely colored over, she didn’t look away as she began to bob her head up and down accordingly to Karya’s instructions.

     Her cheeks puckered as she sucked hard on his shaft, her tongue rolling back and forth along the underside.

     Green’s tongue worked his jewels fervently, her lips nibbling and sucking at them occasionally. Every now and then she’d send an adventurous lick down his taint to gauge his reaction.

     Blue picked up her pace steadily. Her head and mouth moving, shifting, changing how she gave head as she watched Vince for his every reaction.

     She would gauge him, then adapt accordingly.

     Her skill was rapidly improving. She was enthusiastic to learn his desires, it seemed.

     Karya’s tongue slipped into his ear, her breath warmly washing down the side of his neck. The skin on his neck and chest prickled at her distracting mouth.

     Reaching out he laid a hand on Blue’s head, guiding her to speed up a touch.

     “Ah, ah. Darling, she can’t finish you. That’s my job,” Karya said in a teasing whisper. Her lips closed on his earlobe and gave it a tug.

     Karya released his ear and then pointed a finger at Blue.

     “Blue, good work. Switch with Green.”

     Releasing his member with a pop, Blue gave him a wide smile, then dropped down out of sight.

     Green reappeared, her freckled face pink as she immediately inhaled him. Straight down to the hilt.

     Her thick red curls bounced off her shoulders and jaw as she went straight to the same speed Blue had been moving at.

     “Good work, Green, you were listening better than I thought.”

     Smiling around him, Green made a humming noise of agreement. The vibration of her lips made Vince quiver in her grasp.

     Then she pushed down hard, wedging his girth in her throat and began to gently swallow.

     Her wide green eyes in that tiny petite face made him look huge between those full little lips.

     Blue spared him not at all either, and sent far more of her traveling licks towards his taint. Only to pause and quite literally pull one of his nuts into her mouth completely.

     Vince bucked at the attention, his hips tightening up.

     “Goodness. You girls sure do learn fast. That or he really did need something out of the ordinary. Calm down, Darling. You don’t want to deprive Green of her learning experience, do you? If you get too close, I’ll have to take over. They’re not allowed to have your seed yet. It’d be unfair to the other Dryads who haven’t been picked yet.”

     Green eased him out of her throat and began to diligently work him back and forth, staring him down as she smiled around him. Her lips pulled tight and her cheeks flexed as she sucked hard on him.

     Vince chuckled without a care for Karya’s words and reached out, grabbing Green’s head with both hands.

     He wanted to finish. Being overstimulated, his body demanded it.

     Green whimpered happily and relaxed herself in his hands. Vince began to force her up and down faster and faster, the Dryad taking the abuse eagerly and doing her best to suck and lick him to death.

     “Oh, Darling. Stop it.” Karya laughed and moved around to the front, releasing him.

     With the gentlest of pushes, Karya eased Green out of Vince’s grasp and then pushed her down with Blue. “Get under there and help her out. I’ll finish him.”

     Karya dropped down between the other two Dryads, and caught his tip with her full lips. She gave him a slow wink and rolled her tongue around the head. The tip of her tongue rubbing and flicking all over it.

     Then she began moving back and forth slowly. Her lips pressing firmly to him as she gave him the perfect amount of suction.

     Moaning around him, her eyes partially closed, gazing up at him from lidded eyes.

     As if she knew he couldn’t handle much more, she suddenly began ramming him down her throat. No sooner had he filled her throat, than she slid him back out to the tip.

     Her hands came up and began to knead and squeeze the base of his shaft as she repeatedly deep throated him.

     Urging him. Demanding him to finish.

     Now.

     Blue and Green’s tongues slid up and down his balls, sucking on them and pulling with small nibbles of their teeth. Their tongues entwining here and there as they fought over his jewels.

     Shuddering, Vince climaxed into his Dryad’s mouth.

     Easing herself halfway down his shaft, she sucked roughly on him. Pulling at him even as her fingers milked him. Traveling back and forth along his length.

     Groaning he leaned his head back, Blue and Green unceasing as Karya played catcher.

     As his orgasm died away, Karya reached down and squeezed his balls, milking him in earnest as if she wanted to wring every drop from him.

     Taking her time, she stroked away at him as she sucked and licked.

     Eventually she pulled back, releasing him from her mouth.

     Using the tip of her index finger, she guided what remnants of his seed could be seen on him into her mouth.

     She gave him a smile and patted Blue and Green on the back.

     Both of her grove wives sat up.

     “Grove husband, our mistress requires you to cut your palm,” said Blue.

     “Then you must also be prepared to spit, Grove husband,” said Green.

     “What?” he asked, his voice sounding groggy even to his own ears.

     “Please cut your palm and bleed into the Cursed One’s mouth,” Blue clarified.

     “Then please spit into her mouth after that,” Green added.

     “You must do this to bind her to yourself,” Blue said.

     “Providing she agrees,” explained Green.

     Karya had already moved over to the Cursed One. She’d gotten down on her knees beside her and eased her head back, pulling on her jaw to open her mouth.

     Vince watched curiously, unsure of what was going on.

     Karya looked up, and saw him watching. She gave him a sultry smile and languidly leaned down. She opened her mouth an inch above the stalker’s, making eye contact with Vince the entire time, and let his thick seed dribble out slowly between her lips.

     And into the open mouth of the semi-conscious red eyed stalker. The same one he’d told Karya to bind to him in a contract.

     Chapter 10

     “Orcs. Orc territory,” hissed Red, slinking up to Vince’s side.

     Looking over at the Cursed One, Vince still felt odd about her and what had happened between them.

     After being fed his seed, blood, and spit, she’d perked right up. Almost in an unbelievable fashion. Up and about within an hour of the deed being done

     Karya confirmed that Red, a nickname she’d given her personally, had accepted the contract and would follow his instructions.

     That had been several days ago, and as far as he could tell, she hadn’t eaten anyone. Or anything.

     “Good work, Red,” Vince said. Reaching out he smoothed her hair back and gave the base of her ears a scritch and a scratch.

     Red purred and slammed into his side, pushing her head into his hand.

     They’d found out early on that her strength and agility were incredible. She also had senses that made Vince’s look paltry.

     If a Ranger had to have a pet, a Cursed One apparently was the way to go.

     “Yes. Scratch, scratch. Scratch tail?” Red pushed her hips into his crotch, her tail lifting up.

     He’d managed to talk her into wearing clothes that weren’t destroyed, but only after he’d cut a hole for her tail to go through.

     Reaching into that hole, he began to gently scratch and rub at the base of her tail.

     It was a consistent request of hers as a reward for things she did.

     Now she hunted constantly for things so she could be rewarded.

     Red purred deeply, pushing her bottom into his hand, when he started to pull back.

     “No stop. Scratch, scratch. Scratch Red. Red scout. Found Orcs. Many, many Orcs. Orcs as many as Elves. Scratch?”

     Vince blinked. It wasn’t good news, but the fact that she’d found it was incredibly good news.

     Digging his nails into the base of her tail he scratched at it. Reaching over with his other hand, he started to rub and finger her ears as well.

     “Very good job, Red. Very, very good job,” Vince said. Positive reinforcement was a big, big deal to her.

     “Red good. Red need to feed. Today, tomorrow.”

     Nodding his head, he put it on his to do list.

     Find some prey. Bring it down alive, feed her the heart, eat the meat.

     “I’ll feed you, yes. Go, make sure they don’t sneak up on us. You’re allowed to kill and eat anything that gets too close,” Vince said, giving her a light shove.

     Red was more solid than she looked, and his push did nothing but move her an inch.

     Nodding her head, Red gave him a feral grin, long canines sliding free of her lips. Her red reflective eyes flashed at him before she darted off.

     “She’s like an animal, Lord,” Thera said, moving in close to his side.

     “Master, is she truly safe?” Eva asked from his left.

     “As safe as we can make her. Alright, tell everyone back there to slow down. We’ll need to figure this out before we move through the area. After this is a straight shot north to home.”

     Thera nodded her head once. “I’m glad for that, Lord. I envy your time with Eva, but I’d prefer my first to be at home, rather than out here.”

     For a split second, Vince wasn’t sure how to reply.

     Then he realized what he wanted to say was what he needed to say.

     “Agreed. It wouldn’t be fair to you when Eva had a chance to enjoy herself the first time. You might need to wait depending on how Fes, Petra, and Meliae are when we get home though,” Vince said, giving her a straight answer.

     “I… yes, Lord. I will wait.” She turned her head to the side, but Vince would have had to have been deaf to not hear the smile in her words.

     “Good. Now, how do we want to handle the Orcs? Red didn’t specify how large the territory is. Maybe if we knew their number that’d give us an idea. She said as many as the Elves but… I honestly can’t believe she can count. Sorry,” Vince said with a shrug. He didn’t want to sound rude, but it just didn’t seem likely to him.

     Karya laughed softly, stretching her arms above her head.

     He couldn’t help it when his eyes were instantly attracted to her impressive chest as she thrust it forward at him.

     “I love it when you look at me,” Karya said, dropping her arms back down.

     Vince somehow managed to strip his eyes from her and looked to Thera instead, giving her a frown and shake of his head.

     Thera stared back at him, and then smiled at him. She deliberately lifted her arms above her head invitingly. As if she’d grown more confident from his earlier statement.

     Playing along for a moment, Vince stared at the Dark Elf’s chest. Right up until she clearly got embarrassed and turned away, looking off into the distance.

     “As to their numbers. She’s right. Something around six hundred heartbeats. It’s a very large Orc group. As to their territory, it’d take us a few days to skirt it. We don’t really have the resources for that.”

     “Great,” Vince muttered. “Options?”

     “Go through the mountains,” Eva offered.

     “Across the territory at night?” Thera asked.

     “Challenge for the right to cross. No Orc could stand up to you,” Karya supplied.

     Vince stroked his fingers along his jaw and chin.

     It wasn’t a bad idea actually. He could easily challenge them for the right to cross unhindered. He might even be able to challenge them for some food and water as well.

     “Claim you have a Fes, name her per custom, and state that you’re challenging for the right to cross,” Karya said, urging him onward.

     He’d challenged Orc leaders before, and they’d always respected a win.

     Sighing, Eva shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Frustration and annoyance were clear in her body posture. “Master, I don’t like it but… it’s probably the best answer. I can’t imagine someone beating you in single combat. Ever.”

     Thera let out a slow groan, her hands flexing. “I dislike this, Lord.”

     “Yeah. I don’t much care for it either. I’ve never challenged for a group this large. But… it’s the quickest, shortest, and most likely to succeed. If we tried to go through or around, we could end up being forced to do the same thing anyways.” Vince shook his head. “No, Karya is right. Easier to challenge their leader, or leaders, and win. Move on, move through. If they try to renege, you two lovely Elves turn them to ash. I imagine the daily power refills have put you on another level?”

     Both Elves nodded, staring out at the desolate landscape ahead of them.

     Sighing, Vince looked to Karya. “You, Blue, and Green stay here and keep an eye out. Get everyone hunkered down. We’ll head over to the Orc camp in the morning. I’ll send Red over when we’re done.”

     Looking back to the stretch of Waste in front of them, he shook his head.

     “And speaking of Red. She said I need to feed her, so I’ll need to take an hour and go on the hunt for her.”

     Karya coughed delicately. “Uhm, darling? You know I love you, right?”

     Slowly, Vince turned his eyes on Karya, feeling an unknown anger already.

     “I do know it. And I love you, too. But I think I’m going to be angry. I’m going to be angry, aren’t I?”

     “Well, you see. Your contract with Red is that you have to feed her.”

     “Yes, I’m aware.”

     “You have to feed her your blood, or your seed.”

     Vince blinked twice, his breath catching in his chest.

     “I’d say the best bet is to have me, Blue, or Green fetch it out of you and feed her. Or you could let Red do it but I’m not sure she wouldn’t bite. Uhm, or just… pleasure yourself into her mouth?”

     Karya looked suddenly unsure of herself at his lack of a reply.

     “Darling?”

     Letting out a slow breath, Vince turned his head back to the Orc territory in front of them. “I’m going to punish you somehow for this. I don’t know how yet, but I’m going to. Maybe use Blue and Green in front of you on your next turn when we’re home. Where you can only watch without touching or participating.”

     “Darling… don’t be unreasonable,” Karya whined, pouting prettily.

     Red stalked along behind him, shadowing him.

     She was as perky and energetic as could be after her meal.

     He’d taken a few minutes to “feed her” since he promised he would.

     In the end he’d settled for having her kneel and then taking care of himself into her mouth.

     The unfortunate part was it appealed to the dark twisted dominating part of his mind that told him to break his Dryads in half.

     He enjoyed feeding Red.

     Thera and Eva of course flanked him as they marched inexorably towards the Orc encampment.

     They could actually see the ramshackle “village” in the distance. To Vince it looked more like a number of shanty towns he’d seen on the fringes of human society.

     There really are no differences, are there. We’re all the same, just separated by our skin.

     A loud barking challenge cut through his thoughts.

     Several Orcs charged at him from a position they’d been using to watch from.

     As they closed in on him, Vince held up a hand above his head.

     “I challenge your leader to combat!” Vince shouted, unsheathing his saber and holding it out in front of himself. Thinking rapidly, he recalled the word for challenge from his language lessons with Fes. Barking the single word at the Orcs he waited, his saber still held sideways in front of himself.

     The trio of green-skins slowed at that, but didn’t stop. They had their weapons at the ready, eyes moving between Vince and his companions.

     Shouting the same word again, Vince pumped his arm holding his saber, drawing their attention to it.

     Finally, as if they hadn’t quite believed they’d heard the word the first time, they stopped and looked at one another.

     Letting out an annoyed grunt, Vince kept walking. He wasn’t going to let them slow him down. He wanted to be quit of the wastes and back home.

     He showed them contempt and disdain in equal measure, Vince walked right up to them and then passed by them without a care.

     Vince had to shove one backwards with his left hand when it stepped in close as he went by; otherwise he ignored them.

     One of the green-skins took off running in the direction Vince was heading. The other two moved further away but kept pace with him on his march.

     “Truly subtle, Lord,” Thera drawled.

     “Polite behavior at its finest, Master,” Eva concurred.

     “Ignore weak prey. No life force. Bad meal. Good Bringer,” Red said defiantly.

     “Bringer?” Vince asked, looking back at the strange creature.

     “Food bringer. You bring. Red feed,” Red said, nodding her head heavily.

     “Oooookay then. At least one of you approves.” Vince shook his head, looking forward.

     “Red not hungry. Red would eat if rewarded though,” said the Cursed One.

     “Sure. I’ll feed you again tonight. You just keep giving me those positive thoughts and support.”

     Let’s train her early and hard then. Lots of positive reinforcement.

     Red slammed her hip into his side, sending him stumbling for a step.

     “Scritch scratch tail,” she demanded.

     As they got ever closer to their goal, it began to resemble a boiling anthill more than anything else. Orcs of every shape and size rushing about.

     It almost looked as if they were in a state of panic.

     “Something isn’t quite right, Lord.”

     “No, no it isn’t, Thera,” Vince agreed.

     “They’re not unified, Master. They’re fragmented,” Eva said after a pause.

     Ah. She’s right.

     In looking at it with that in mind, he clearly saw it was a bunch of smaller groups. Clans and families that were separate.

     Must be a recent gathering. They’re not used to living with one another yet.

     Orcs began to make way before them, forming a channel that Vince had to guess was invariably leading him to the leader of this large group.

     Or leaders maybe?

     That could be the problem.

     Red ranged out in front of him, glaring at everyone and anything. Her clawed fingers flexed menacingly as her red eyes swept back and forth.

     Thera and Eva were on high alert as well, their weapons drawn and ready.

     Several Orcs stood at the end of the press of bodies. Two looked to be in their prime while the third was significantly older. His hair was black with streaks of grey in it. His face had the wrinkles gained from a life spent hard.

     Walking straight to the three of them, Vince held his sword up above his head.

     “By my right, and the honor I hold with my Fes, I challenge you for the right for my party to pass unrestricted through your lands, as well as for food and water.”

     The old Orc’s brooding face soured and his brows came down over his lumpy face in consternation. “You have a Fes?”

     “My Fes is named Berenga. She is currently pregnant with our first and could not come on my hunting trip. I and my people are returning to her now, and must cross your lands.”

     “Pregnant?” The old Orc paused, then shook his head once. Eyeing Vince again he seemed to consider the situation. His eyes flicked to Red, Thera, and finally Eva.

     Nodding his white haired head, the Orc waved a hand at Vince. “Go. Go in pe—”

     “I accept your challenge, since this old cur won’t!” shouted one of the younger Orcs. Stepping to the side he backhanded the elder, sending the older Orc to the ground.

     Then the challenger ripped free a big war axe that was strapped to his back. “To the death! Fight now!” roared the Orc. As if it were the most natural thing in the world, he began to pull his axe back to swing at Vince.

     Unsheathing his saber, Vince went in fast and swift. Three steps and he’d closed the distance.

     Lunging forward, the tip of his saber was aimed perfectly for the Orc’s throat.

     Stumbling backward as fast as it could, the Orc raised a hand up in defense.

     Only to lose two fingers as the saber connected.

     As Vince began to pull back to a neutral stance, the Orc struggled forward, trying to ignore its injury.

     Lifting the axe up over his head, the Orc made a forward lunge.

     Stepping to the side, giving up on trying to get back to a neutral state, Vince crossed one foot over the other.

     Moving forward the Orc practically fell past Vince, his axe leading the way.

     Snapping out his left hand with lightning speed, Vince snatched the back of the Orc’s hair as he went.

     Drawing up his saber over the Orc’s head as he stepped in close he dropped the blade to the green neck. At the same time he pulled on the Orc’s hair.

     Bending the Orc backward at an unnatural angle, Vince stared into the crowd. As coldly as you could filet a fish, Vince began to saw his saber back and forth through the Orc’s throat.

     Gurgling and sputtering could be heard.

     Then the whistling of a windpipe and the spatter of raspy breathing through blood drowned everything out like a thunderstorm.

     Vince turned his eyes on the young Orc who had acted as a lieutenant. Waiting for two beats of his heart Vince turned his sword over to rest the point on the Orc’s chest.

     Then he pushed it into the dying Orc’s chest at his feet. Straight into his heart.

     With a twist of the blade he pulled his sword back out.

     Dumping the soon to be corpse face forward into the grass, Vince flicked his blade out to the side, sending blood spraying into the crowd as it flew free from his sword.

     His opponent hadn’t been unskilled, he simply underestimated Vince. If anything, he was as strong and as fast as Fes.

     “Next,” Vince said without humor, tilting his head to one side.

     The other young Orc was panting, a sword held loosely in one hand. Vince wasn’t sure if he’d attack out of rage or simply swallow it.

     “Make sure it’s a challenge. I’d hate to kill you in cold blood,” Vince said, pointing his saber at the visibly angry Orc.

     Snuffling, the sword moving back and forth in small twitches, the Orc seemed unsure now.

     “As I’ve now conquered your champion, I’ll take my passage. As well as a small amount of food and water,” Vince said, lowering his blade.

     The old Orc was standing now, blood flowing down from a cut on his cheek. His eyes were stuck on the dead Orc between them.

     “For what it’s worth, I had no desire to kill him. I only wished to pass through. He didn’t need to die,” Vince said without concern.

     Vince slipped his sword into its sheath and looked to Thera.

     At that moment the younger Orc screamed a bloody yell and leapt at Vince.

     Red was there in a flash, one clawed hand burrowing into the Orc’s throat as if it were made of clay.

     Yanking her hand free with a gob of flesh in it she eyed it critically. Then Red licked at the bloody mess and made a face.

     The charging Orc fell to his knees, his hands pressed to his gaping throat.

     “Finish him, Red. There’s no need to let him suffer,” Vince murmured.

     Red looked at him and blinked, her red eyes glittering. “Red understands.”

     Lifting her gore-filled hand up, she stepped around behind her kill. Then her hand shot out, her fingers shearing the Orc’s spine.

     As if he were a tree top cut from its trunk, the Orc limply dropped to the grass.

     Looking around, Red shifted her stance until it looked as if she were imitating Vince.

     “Next,” she growled, dropping the fleshy chunk that had still been in her hand. Then she moved her head to the side, in the same manner Vince had.

     Imitation is the greatest form of flattery. I guess.

     Slowly, the old Orc got down to his knees in front of Vince and bent his head down.

     “We will honor your victory, and apologize for the shame of our second attacking you outside of a challenge.”

     Vince didn’t care one way or the other, and was simply happy to be done with this.

     “Fine, I accept. We’ll take some food, water, and be on our way,” Vince said. Turning to Eva he pointed a thumb back the way they came. “Off with you, my Wood Elf, go get everyone moving.”

     Ducking her head, Eva was off in a flash.

     “Ah, the warmaster had just ordered his meal to be cooked. He’d caught his own meat and brought it back,” said the elder, motioning to a big black cauldron hanging over a stack of unlit wood.

     “Oh? Stew?” Vince walked over to the cauldron.

     “Yes, we’d just begun letting the meat marinate. It was meant to be his meal, so now it’s yours.”

     Oddly, the cauldron had a latch on it.

     Some form of pressure cooking?

     Unwinding the latch, Vince pulled the lid off and looked inside.

     He couldn’t help it, they’d been eating very limited amounts of food for days.

     Hunger was his name.

     Except that what was inside wasn’t a stew.

     It was a head. A head that was staring back at him.

     Large purple eyes glared at him. They had a purple iris with glittering sparks in them. They were also so large that she couldn’t possibly be human.

     Those purple eyes were set in an elegantly sculpted face with very clean features. She had a sharp jawline and delicate cheekbones.

     Her hair was a dirty blonde color and plastered to her face and neck. It probably fell down to just past her shoulders when it wasn’t soaking wet.

     She was watching him watch her. While she sat there wading in what could only be soup stock.

     A carrot bobbed up against her chin and then slowly floated away from her.

     “Hey there,” Vince said finally.

     “You stink of life magic,” said the woman in a surprisingly high pitched voice.

     “Oh. I see.” Vince set the lid back down and latched it tight.

     Inside the pot, the woman had started yelling. Vince could hear the sound of her fists hitting the inside of the pot in between her shouts.

     Chapter 11

     Locking eyes with the elder, Vince pointed a finger at the pot. “There’s a woman in that pot,” he said slowly.

     “It’s a Gnome,” the elder said, bowing his head. “The warmaster caught her and had decided to eat her for dinner. He has… had… an unclean preference for cooking his meal alive. Would you prefer the game killed and cleaned properly first?” asked an Orc who moved up beside their elder.

     It would seem they didn’t have a problem eating other races.

     At least they have a problem with cooking her alive?

     Behind him, the gnome continued to shout and bang on the inside of the cauldron.

     “That’s… ok. I think I’ll just—” Vince stopped, hesitating. He wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t owe the Gnome anything, but neither did he really like the idea of leaving her in a pot to be cooked and eaten because he didn’t lift a finger. “I’ll… take her with me and eat her later. I’m not that hungry right now. I’d be perfectly happy with some bread.”

     “Bread,” the elder said, staring at him.

     She’s… probably naked.

     “Bread. Could you fetch me the Gnome’s clothes while you’re getting me the bread? Something to dry off with, too.”

     The old Orc walked off, calling to several other Orcs as he went. All around them the gathering of green-skins broke up. A few remained behind to watch and gawk, but even they left when it was apparent the entertainment was over.

     That or when Vince stared at them till they moved on.

     Glancing over his shoulder when the Gnome went silent, Vince found Red peering into the giant pot.

     “Red is my name. Red thinks you’re rude to Bringer. Red should kill you. Eat the red thing in your chest,” growled the Cursed One.

     “O-o-o-oh my. I… I… I’m sorry,” came the echoing reply.

     “Red,” Vince called.

     Guiltily, the cat woman’s head whipped around, her red eyes focused entirely on Vince.

     “Get her out of there. We’ll be letting her go after we get out of here. Don’t hurt her,” Vince ordered.

     “Red will do this,” said the Cursed One. Looking into the pot, her hand shot forward. The splash of water and a choked squeak were the only indication of what’d happened.

     Before he could say anything, Red lifted the Gnome out by her neck.

     The diminutive woman kicked her feet back and forth as her hands pried at Red’s wrist.

     She was indeed wearing only her birthday suit.

     Her body was undersized, but not disproportionately so. She seemed more like a small human than anything. Everything fit and looked right.

     She even managed to sport what looked like a full B-cup to Vince.

     “Red put small woman down?” she asked.

     “Yes, put her down on the grass. She’s not going anywhere. Don’t hurt her.”

     “Red not hurt Bringer’s Gnome,” agreed Red, nodding.

     Setting her down on the grass, Red watched closely. As if daring the Gnome to run so she could chase her down.

     So predatory that it hurts. I wonder how Fes will react.

     Taking gasping breaths, the Gnome covered her chest with one arm as her hand snaked down towards her privates.

     Taking a moment to compare her height to Red, he’d probably put her at a maximum of four feet tall.

     She glared at Vince, her big purple eyes swirling with color and motes of light.

     “And what would you have of me then?”

     Reaching out he plucked a chunk of potato free from her hair and flicked it aside.

     “Nothing. Though you’re supposed to be my dinner by virtue of the fact of those two corpses,” Vince said, nodding at the two dead Orcs. “For now, I’ve asked for your clothes back and some bread. I plan on leaving as soon as my people arrive. After we quit this place, do as you will. I care not.”

     Vince shrugged his shoulders and turned to Thera. “How long do you think it’ll be?”

     “An hour, Lord. They’ll move quickly.”

     “Great, go round up what food and water they can spare but don’t overdo it. If they don’t have anything, hit the surrounding areas and see what we can bring down.”

     “D-d-don’t ignore me,” came the muttered voice of the Gnome.

     Turning his head towards the Gnome he held up his hands apologetically. “I’m sorry, I thought our conversation was through. Was there something more?”

     “Why is it that a mage of life magic has a familiar born of curse magic?”

     “You mean, Red? Well, first she’s not my familiar she’s…. actually I wouldn’t even know how to word what she is to me. As to me being a life mage, not at all. I’m a Ranger.”

     “You reek of life magic. It bleeds off of you. You’re untrained in magic?”

     Vince wrinkled his nose at the memory of Elysia trying to train him in Elven magic. “I had someone try to teach me Elven magic and it failed miserably.”

     An Orc came over and dropped a pile of clothes onto the grass next to the Gnome and what looked to be a torn tunic.

     “First, my name is Leila,” said Leila the Gnome. Fidgeting with herself she pressed her legs tightly together and then took the hand from her nether region to pick up the ripped tunic. She began to dry herself off with it.

     She made the occasional sound of disgust as she dislodged bits of whatever had been in the pot with her.

     “Name’s Vince.”

     “As for Elf magic. Of course it did. Elven magic requires Elven blood,” grumped Leila.

     Her cheeks turned a furious red as she tried to dry off her thighs without revealing more of herself.

     Sighing, Vince turned to the side and faced away from the small woman.

     “Oh god, what is that?” said Leila. “Is… is it meat?”

     “You were saying?” Vince prompted.

     “Magic! Yes. Elven magic requires their blood. So of course it failed. Proper magic is done through study and proper conduits,” Leila said excitedly. The nervous woman vanished somewhere between talking about anything other than magic, and talking about magic.

     Fan of magic are we?

     “Conduits like how?”

     In the distance Vince could see his rabble of Elves on the move. They were on the horizon but still a very long way off.

     “Oh, simple things. Wands, pendants, rings. Each conduit is unique in the making and is different for everyone. Proper conduits will end up getting replaced as the mage grows in power.”

     “And where’s yours?” Vince asked, moving his eyes back to the Gnome.

     He got an impressive view of her chest and nethers as she worked herself into what looked like a sundress.

     For as different as people claimed they were, Gnomes seemed incredibly similar to short Humans.

     Then her head popped out the top and her huge purple eyes were staring back at him. Her cheeks turned an instant crimson as she yanked the hem of her dress down, covering herself.

     “I-I-I was in the middle of changing conduits. It takes a few days to make them. When that Orc caught me,” Leila said, her hands straightening her clothes as best as she could.

     “Hm,” Vince said, staring at Leila for a few more seconds. The Gnome squirmed, turning her profile to him as if to limit herself. She began to work at her hair, trying in vain to dry it of the soup stock.

     “Probably should get yourself a new conduit then.”

     “I shall. Where are you going?”

     “Yosemite city.”

     “Yosemite city? I don’t think I’ve heard of it,” mused the Gnome.

     “Not surprising. Alright, well, you do what you need to do.”

     Scratching at his cheek, Vince sighed.

     “Come on, Red. Let’s go poke around some.” Vince turned and set off. He didn’t want to sit idle.

     “Red is unsure of the meaning to ‘poke around.’”

     “Look for food. See if we can find anything to feed our people.”

     “Feed? Bringer will feed Red? Reward for Red?” asked the Cursed One as she scampered up to his side.

     Fighting for control with his inner demon as the monster in his loins rose up screaming at him, Vince considered her request.

     It couldn’t hurt to let off a bit of steam. Could it? It’s not like it’d hurt her and she’s asking for it.

     “Sure. Why not.”

     “What if I taught you magic?” shouted Leila at his back.

     Stopping dead in his tracks, Vince looked to the grass in front of him.

     He knew he was full of power. He constantly drained it into the Elves to empower them. What if he could actually use it directly?

     “And what’s the price for such an education?” Vince asked, not turning around.

     “Food, shelter, the chance to study you and your familiar.”

     “Fine.” Vince started walking again.

     A simple bargain. Or so he hoped.

     Thera had been right on the timeline. The Elves arrived fairly quickly.

     Unfortunately though, there hadn’t been much they could take from the Orcs without endangering their own ability to feed themselves.

     Vince was no tyrant.

     Standing to the side as his weary group of Elves trooped along, he couldn’t help but look forward to getting home.

     And dread it at the same time.

     He was a Ranger. Born and bred practically.

     To him the rolling Wastes were a danger and a threat all their own, but they were also a second home.

     His actual home was just where he put his boots up between runs.

     How long would he be trapped in Yosemite this time before he found a reason to escape?

     A week? A month?

     A year?

     Sighing, Vince scrubbed his face with his hands, dreading the idea of being locked up in Yosemite for a while.

     At least he wasn’t alone though. He did have everyone.

     And children. I… I should have children by this point. Right? I should have kids waiting for me.

     Shuddering from head to toe, he didn’t know how to process that thought.

     “Bringer cold?” Red asked, her reflective eyes glued to him.

     Snorting, he shook his head and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “No. Just thinking about what’s waiting for me when we get home.”

     “Oh. What is waiting for Bringer?” Red inquired, moving over to sit in front of him.

     “Children,” Karya said, leaning on her staff as she watched the Elves walk by. “A few children.”

     “Bringer has small ones?” Red asked, staring down any Orc who would make eye contact with her.

     “I do now. Several of my wives were pregnant when I left. They were due to be born while we were away. Not sure what to do with them when I get there. Never been good with children.”

     “You’ll do fine, Master. Things will work out,” Eva said.

     “Yes, Lord. All it takes is patience and practice,” agreed Thera.

     “Bringer do fine.”

     The end of the mob of Elves was coming. They’d fall in behind that section and carry the rear in case the Orcs decided to do something.

     The rest of the Dryads were spread out to keep everyone moving and together.

     Across the way, the old Orc was walking in their direction. Behind him, a large number of Orcs had been forming up.

     “What’s this then,” Vince murmured, watching.

     As the last Elves passed, the Orcs turned away from their camp, and began trundling along after the Elves.

     On their backs, in their arms, and in small wagons were whatever possessions they decided to take with themselves.

     What the hell is going on?

     “Before you ask, yes,” the old Orc said, coming to stand in front of Vince. “You’re the new warmaster, and they plan on following you. Anyone who can command a legion of Elves, defeat their champions, and not dishonor them is worthy of being followed.

     “I am Bermeen, and I will follow.” Turning on his heel, Bermeen began marching along with his fellow green-skins.

     Unable to get a word in edgewise, Vince was shut down completely.

     Leila started giggling loudly, and then practically tried to cower into herself when Vince looked at her.

     “What’s so funny then?” he asked.

     “Oh, n-nothing. You just happen to have picked up the better part of the largest Orc enclave that’s been seen in a long while. While marching a huge army of Elves through.”

     “And?” Vince asked.

     “How exactly is one human going to keep them all in check as slaves?” Leila asked.

     Now it was Vince’s turn to laugh.

     Thera, Eva, and Karya started laughing after a moment as well.

     “What’s so funny?” Leila asked.

     “You have no idea what Yosemite city is, do you?” Karya asked, standing upright.

     “No. I’m new to this area. I came from the east, why?”

     “You’ll see,” Karya said, melding herself into Vince’s side. “Darling, I’ve made arrangements with Eva so I could have you to myself until we get home. Do take good care of me.”

     A Fairy came in fast, a trail of glittering lights behind them with the speed of their approach. It slowed as it reoriented itself. Then it was off like a rock from a sling, heading straight for him. Coming to a stop with violent wing flaps, this unfamiliar fairy hovered above him.

     “Master! Elysia is north of here, heading towards you with supplies and troops. Frit is running a forward patrol and will be here shortly. Can I take a message from you?”

     Vince grinned at the fairy, his worries suddenly spent and gone as if they’d never existed.

     “Yeah. Tell Elysia she’s beautiful and I owe her another favor,” Vince said, shaking his head.

     The fairy shot off back towards the north.

     “For her to be this far south, she set off the day she got the message. Your sister is wonderful,” Vince commented, looking at Thera and Eva.

     Both Elves nodded their heads in return, smiling. It was apparent that their own worries had evaporated in the same way his had.

     “Alright. Let’s get the Orcs and Elves aware of the situation. The last thing we need is a bunch of unarmed civilians getting into a fight with our own army.” Vince leapt into a jog, heading for the north to head off any potential disaster before it could start.

     “I’ll work from the rear upwards and have the word spread,” Karya said. “I’m not made for running. Come on, Leila, you can keep me company.”

     Vince caught Red’s eye and nodded towards Leila and Karya. “Keep ’em safe.”

     Red gave her hair a shake as if to argue, then snorted and went to follow Karya.

     Thera and Eva paced along with him. Their lithe graceful forms powering along beside him.

     Quickly they caught up to the lead elements of the Elves.

     “Break off and let them know what’s going on, Thera,” Vince got out between breaths.

     The Dark Elf gave him a nod and turned on a dime, her form shimmering as she obeyed orders.

     It wasn’t long after that when Vince found he was rapidly closing in on what he could only guess was the forward scouting party for Frit.

     Except it wasn’t really.

     It was Elysia and Petra along with a squad of Frit’s people.

     Slowing down he came to a stop in front of Elysia.

     “My liege, it’s… so good to see you,” said the High Elf, a smile blazing free across her face as she inclined her head towards him.

     “This one is very pleased to see her master,” Petra said, closing in on him.

     Before he had a chance to do or say anything, she had him off the ground and pressed into her breastplate.

     “Ha, hey there Petra. I mis—” Vince managed to say before she started kissing him roughly.

     “Petra, put our lie—Petra, put him down,” Elysia said with a laugh.

     After several seconds of ravaging his face, Petra moved him a foot backwards. She didn’t put him down though.

     “This one apologizes, she missed you.”

     “It’s alright. I missed you too. Though, should you be up and around? I mean…?” He left the question open. He wasn’t sure what the news would be.

     As if sensing his internal distress, Elysia cleared her throat. “I won’t reveal the genders just yet, by request of Meliae, but all four were born healthy and whole.”

     Petra gave him a wide grin, her eyes having never left his face. “This one bore you a son. He is human and looks perfect,” she said with no small amount of pride. “This one is positive he will live to defend our home well.”

     “Glad to hear it, Petra. Did you pick out a name? I know we talked about a few but we never settled on one.”

     “This one named him for his father. He is Vincent of Yosemite the second of Yosemite. Minnie told this one about how names can carry on a lineage of their own.”

     Blinking at the thought of a son carrying his name, he could only reach up and lightly pat her cheek.

     “I thank you. Now, if you promise to put me down, I’ll give your thorax a good scrub down later tonight.”

     “Truly?”

     “Yes, truly.”

     Petra slowly set him on the ground. It was clear she didn’t quite want to, but his offer had her tempted.

     “Now, Elysia. Fancy meeting you here,” Vince said, waving a hand at the open land around them. “What brings you here, when I swore you were supposed to be my second in command back at Yosemite?”

     Elysia’s cheeks reddened for a moment. Then she closed the distance between them. She brushed a kiss across his lips before he could react, and took a step back.

     “Because I already have a trusted second in place for my role. She’s getting some on the job experience right now. Fes and Meliae are working to keep her on track.”

     Having been stunned momentarily by the brazen kiss, he finally smiled at her. “Good. I’m glad to hear that.”

     “The only important news, my liege, is that I purchased a group of new citizens. They were on offer from the military. Apparently sending them north is more of a problem than an answer.”

     Elysia flipped open a ledger she’d had wedged under her arm and continued. “I had Meliae and Daphne do interviews with me for each one before purchasing each contract. In the end we turned away one hundred and purchased six hundred. No less in revenue that would be a concern. We traded them with castoffs from the foundry. Deskil was happy to get rid of them.”

     Elysia looked back up at him after finishing.

     “Great. Though I think we’re going to have a problem. I have something like… a thousand and a half Orcs and Elves trailing along this way. We’ll have to do interviews to figure out if there’s any problems in the group. And it sounds like we’ll need to get moving on more food production, last I remember we were already having difficulties on that end,” Vince said.

     Elysia’s tight lipped frown brought a certain unease to him.

     We’ve got a bigger problem with resources than I think, I’m betting. She won’t tell me till she gets back and runs all the numbers though.

     “Anyways, before you can ask, I did claim your sister, Eva. Thera is waiting for a turn when we get back home. After that, well, I’ll need to figure out how to break into your room at night,” Vince admitted with a deadpan delivery.

     Elysia’s eyes flicked to Eva behind him, then back to him.

     “That’s simple, really. The same way you do everything else. You ask me to unlock the door.”

     “Where’s the fun in that?”

     “The fun would be in what I’m wearing when I open the door, of course,” Elysia said, giving him a bright smile.

     “Oh.” That smile was captivating and made his heart speed up a bit.

     “Or not wearing,” she amended.

     “Oh,” Vince repeated brilliantly, his heart now pounding.

      I think I need to feed Red.

     Chapter 12

     Vince hadn’t realized how much tension had been in his shoulders until he saw the walls of Yosemite in the distance.

     They were a long ways off, but at this point, there would be nothing that could prevent him from getting home.

     And thankfully so. Getting a moment to himself inside his home would be a blessed thing.

     It’d taken a week and a half to get their large group this far north. Days were spent marching along as multiple groups ranged out in every direction to scout for food and water.

     Vince was surprised with how clingy Petra was as well. It wasn’t the first time they’d been separated but her demeanor was quite different.

     On top of that, apparently she wasn’t as ready to be out and about as she said she was.

     Karya had immediately ruled her out from doing anything more strenuous than walking seconds after seeing her. That included any time spent in the bedroom.

     If he had to guess, she’d forced her way out of Yosemite despite Meliae’s protests. He imagined the thought of him being in danger had spurred her on to ignoring her own well being. It more than likely was also why she was as clingy as she was.

     She’d taken in Leila and Red quickly enough though. Red she forced to spar with Eva and Thera regularly and Leila she didn’t interact with much.

     There had been questions from the Gnome but nothing that generated a lasting conversation.

     Karya, Blue, and Green kept him occupied at night.

     He wasn’t sure what agreement Karya had worked out with Eva, but the Elf seemed none the worse off for whatever she was getting in exchange.

     If anything, she seemed quite happy.

     A distant horn could be faintly heard from the east, as apparently someone saw their approach and realized who they were.

     Watching the gate, Vince could clearly see the moment it swung open.

     Frit snorted and shook his shaggy head. “That’ll be Kitch, or I’m a mouse. She was quite unhappy about not being able to head south. I only managed to convince her by reminding her your children were here.”

     Vince smirked at that and scratched at his shoulder. “Yeah, she seems to think of herself as my honor guard.”

     “It isn’t a bad idea,” Frit admitted. “She’d be good for it, too. Her people are just as well trained as my own or Henry’s at this point.”

     “Harder to hide them. I’m a Ranger, not a—well, I spend more time in the woods than cities,” Vince said thoughtfully.

     “That’ll change. We had a number of ambassadors arrive after you left. They’ve requested approval to set up embassies. Your fair chamberlain there has allowed several to do so, but on the condition that their buildings are subject to regular inspections, cannot have more than ten people, and are beholden to the laws of Yosemite.”

     Looking at the High Elf Vince quirked a brow.

     She shrugged her shoulders at him. “It’s the right thing to do, and not something you’d care about, my liege. You’d ask me to solve it anyways. So far, we have a representative from a fairly large gathering of Wood Elves in the North, one from the emperor in the west, and a few from smaller groups.

     “I’m having an enclave built with apartments for the smaller groups.”

     Nodding his head a bit he pursed his lips in thought. “Good work, and you’re right. I would pass it off to you. Am I that obvious? That easy to read nowadays?”

     “My liege, I spend every day with you. We spend more time together than you do with your wives. I would hope I understand your mind when it comes to Yosemite, explicitly.”

     “Huh. Good thing you’ll be joining them then I suppose.”

     Elysia’s face turned scarlet and she faced forward at that, the conversation dying immediately.

     Sure enough, Kitch and her people started out from the gate at a slow trot.

     At the same time, a trio of Ratfolk came sliding up to him from the West.

     “Humans are coming from the west! A large group of them,” said one of the Ratfolk. “But they don’t—”

     As the first Ratfolk hesitated the second stepped up. “They don’t look like soldiers. They look like refugees.”

     “Refugees?” Vince asked, looking out to the west. There wasn’t anything there but the open approach down the road. “Elysia, has the war gotten worse?”

     “From the impression we got, and the citizens we purchased, it seems like it, my liege. Apparently it’s bogged itself down into trench warfare for the front. They’re bringing up all the ancient weapons of war and turning the entire area into a grave.”

     Vince clicked his tongue. “Refugees. Probably from the north. Why this way though? Are they trying to head into the Wastes, or to the east?” he asked no one in particular.

     “I’m not sure, my liege. What are your orders?”

     All around his people watched him, waiting.

     “Get all these new possible citizens into the city, Frit, but get them put up in the dormitories until we can get this figured out. If we run out of room, take them out to the eastern plains. Take the Ratfolk with you to run ahead and alert the gates.

     “Karya, take Blue, Green, Petra, and Leila with you and get into the town. Get the gates shut and Henry and Sivir on duty.

     “Please don’t argue and do as I’ve asked.”

     Vince thought for a second and then made a second decision.

     “Eva, I need you to be my messenger. Get to Fes and Meliae and give them the run down.

     “Red, Thera, Elysia, with me.”

     Collectively, heads bobbed in agreement and set about their work.

     Petra looked annoyed, but didn’t fight him in this.

     Moving off to the side so the column could keep marching by, Vince gave himself a once over, checking his gear.

     “Red is ready,” said the Cursed One. She gave her clothes a quick tug, and then settled down again.

     She’d adjusted fairly well to the rapid changes in her life. Her feeding was fairly regular and seemed more for his own pleasure as of late, rather than her being hungry

     Red never complained but seemed happy with the situation.

     Elysia set her ledger down to one side and clapped her hands together.

     Lightning sparked from between her fingers and began to crackle ominously. Pressing her hands together, the crackle of power died away to a dull hum and was barely noticeable.

     Thera lifted her sword from the sheath and let it drop back into place. Then she took up her customary place at Vince’s right.

     “Are we expecting trouble, my liege?” asked the High Elf.

     “No. But I’ll crush them if they think to start anything,” Vince said, meaning every word of it.

     The silence grew and took hold after that.

     Eventually, the oncoming wave of humanity came into view. It was a teeming horde. Easily numbering in the hundreds.

     Perhaps even close to a thousand.

     Onward they came, marching out of order and haphazardly.

     Kitch and her crew arrived, the big Troll coming to attention behind Vince.

     “Lord. I am here. Orders?” Kitch said loudly, her heavily armored and armed cohort lining up in an orderly formation behind her.

     “Kitch, it’s good to see you. And that was a damn fine marching order and column at attention. Have I told you that I’m proud of you and your people?” Vince asked, letting his eyes move from the humans to the Heavies.

     Kitch’s spine straightened at the praise and a number of shoulders squared in the ranks behind her.

     Positive reinforcement. Always a winner.

     “Lord, we aim to serve.”

     “And you do. Those coming this way are what we believe to be human refugees. So far, they’ve made no attempt to hide their intentions and walk to us openly. Assume they’re neutral until they show otherwise. Questions?”

     Kitch shook her head once.

     “To your people, then,” Vince said with a nod.

     Saluting crisply with her crossed arms, Kitch spun and barked out an order.

     The rear rows began peeling out and spreading out into a winged formation around Vince.

     Kitch took the center, hovering over him as if she were a trap waiting to be sprung.

     “Damn, Kitch, have you been drilling them non-stop? That was a perfectly executed maneuver just now,” Vince murmured under his breath for the Troll.

     “We live to serve. We train to serve.”

     Vince snorted at that and looked back to the oncoming humans.

     They were distinguishable now. His Ratfolk scouts had been right. One and all, they had the look of refugees fleeing. They carried whatever possessions they could manage. A few even had wagons or carts.

     A sad, sorry-looking lot indeed.

     Wondering what they’d do, he couldn’t help but be curious as the mass came to a stuttering stop. Then a small group of humans broke away and began walking towards them alone. With a white sheet tied to a branch held above their heads.

     “Why they wave that?” Red asked.

     “Flag of truce. Parley. Peace. It means they want to talk. Or surrender.”

     Red wrinkled her nose at that and then squatted down, her clawed fingers raking the grass.

     “Talk, talk. People talk to Bringer a lot.”

     “That they do,” Vince said neutrally.

     He’d rather talk than slaughter them all anyways.

     Clearing that many corpses from the field is never quick.

     “Ho there!” called one of the humans. “We come in peace! Peace!”

     “Nervous lot, aren’t they, my liege,” Elysia said.

     “You would be too if you were staring down Kitch and her people, no?” Vince waved his arm wide above his head. “Ho there. Come in peace, and you will receive peace.”

     Emboldened by his words, the humans picked up their pace and hurried on towards him.

     It looked to be about six humans. Four men and two women.

     “I am, my name is, that is—” said the man in the center.

     Vince waved his hand at the man stumbling over his words, urging him to continue.

     “I’m Mark. We’ve been chosen to discuss terms for everyone.”

     “I’m Vince of Yosemite. Any terms that would be struck, would be with me.”

     Mark visibly sagged with what Vince thought was relief. “Blessed be.”

     A woman directly on his left clasped her hands together.

     “Lord Vince, we’ve come to petition you.”

     “So I gather. And what is it you want? Passage? Escort? Resources?”

     “Citizenship,” said the woman. “Citizenship to Yosemite.”

     Closing his eyes for a second, Vince held up a hand, and paused. Opening his mouth and then closing it again he contemplated her answer.

     “You’re saying you all wish to join Yosemite as citizens?” Vince asked, clarifying. Finally settling on the idea that he’d come from curious. Coming from curious was something his father had told him to do often.

     “Yes!” chorused the group out of sync.

     “You realize Yosemite is home to every race out there but humans right now. Yes?”

     “Yes,” they said again.

     “And that there really isn’t an economy as of yet. If there might ever be one. Everyone is assigned a position that’s best suited for them and expected to work. Housing, food, and materials are provided, but no pay. You understand that?”

     “Yes,” they repeated again, several nodding their heads.

     “Why? Why would you want this? I don’t understand,” Vince said directly.

     “We’re from the north,” Mark said. “We just… we just want to live our lives. It’s been said that Yosemite is that. People living their lives. That the kingdom goes to you for armor, arms, in purchase. That they leave you to yourselves. That the Wastes are no challenge to you and they consider you neutral.”

     Odd. That’s either some really coincidental rumors or the people we’re buying and selling from have wagging tongues.

     “And you’d subject yourself to my rule? Do you understand that this isn’t a city you can just up and leave when you please? That before you’d be granted citizenship you’d have to go through an interview?

     “Those with ulterior motives or seeking to do Yosemite harm would be turned away. Is this still enviable to you?”

     That one looked like a surprise to them. They turned their heads to one another and began having an impromptu conference right there.

     After a frenzy of hurried whispers, Mark poked his head back up. “You say we can’t leave?”

     “No. We’re a city state that could be at the mercy of any other nation at any other time. We’re in this together, or not at all,” Vince reaffirmed.

     Mark looked to the others, then nodded his head. “We’re agreed. Can we begin interviewing immediately?”

     Great.

      

     “As you’ve already guessed,” Elysia said archly, her fingernails tapping her ledger. “Our resources are stretched beyond thin. Beyond abysmal.

     “On top of that, you’re going to need to stick around for a few months to make sure everyone is acclimated and accounted for. Beyond that, you have children who haven’t even seen you before today.”

     Elysia held up a finger for each point she ticked off. “Suffice it to say, your calendar is going to be booked for a while. You’ll be meeting with several ambassadors, race leaders, and proposed councillors.”

     “Ah, yeah. The councillor thing,” Vince said, rubbing at his chin with thumb and forefinger. “How’s that going?”

     It’d been one of Elysia’s ideas. A council to serve as race facilitators for Vince. They had no power, other than what they could persuade Vince into doing.

     “So far, so good. With one voice for every race, everything seems balanced despite population count. There’s been a few minor problems, mostly within racial constraints. Everyone not getting behind one candidate.”

     Vince shrugged his shoulders. “Normal politics then, yeah? That’s good as long as there’s no violence.”

     Elysia sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose with a single finger. “There has been the threat of it. I warned them that any violence in the city would be met with immediate expulsion after an interview with one of the Dryads.”

     Snorting, Vince looked from Elysia to her younger Dark Elven counterpart. “I take it that solved it?”

     “Quite,” Elysia admitted.

     “Everything you’ve said so far isn’t unexpected, and honestly, was more or less what I was thinking.

     “What about you, Felicity?” Vince asked, addressing the Dark Elf.

     She looked akin to Thera, and if he didn’t miss his guess she was probably from her family directly. She didn’t look older than eighteen though. She didn’t have quite the same build, and looked a touch more womanly in all areas.

     Scholarly bent where Thera was military placed?

     “I-I believe my sister is right.”

     “On what point,” Vince said challengingly. He’d need to press her a bit.

     Couldn’t have someone around who wouldn’t call him out after all.

     “All of them. We need you here more as a figurehead than an individual contributor.

     “In addition to her points, you’ll need to secure all the Dryads that you brought with you, as well as all of those who Daphne and Meliae coerced into coming here.”

     With a dramatic sigh Vince gave the Elves an honest smile. “I don’t think I could run this place half as well as the two of you do. All of this resource management, politicking, and people pleasing is best suited for a pencil pusher.

     “A mousey little man that would prefer to work behind a desk all day and run numbers and sums. With a name like Felix. Cower and hide behind his people and let them do the work for him.”

     Leaning back in his chair he tried to link his fingers into one another, only to be surprised when he couldn’t.

     His eyes went to the missing fingers on his left hand and he had a momentary pause in thought.

     A mousy man wouldn’t be missing fingers.

     “Ok. Here’s my thoughts. I should probably meet with whoever is responsible for the Elves I brought in, Bermeen’s, and Mark’s groups.

     “Speak with them and get them settled.”

     “Already done, my liege. My family will handle all the new Elves. It’s best for us to take care of it.

     “We’ll be conducting interviews with a few of the Dryads present, combing through them for recruits, and making sure we give everyone the chance to leave, of course.”

     Vince wasn’t surprised. They’d of course use this opportunity to cherry pick the Elves they wanted in their family.

     Marry a few in, adopt a few others, grow the branches. Ever increasing powerful Elven family.

     Maybe even create a secondary branch family.

     He’d do it too, if he had to be honest. It was a smart move.

     Good thing they’re loyal to me.

     “So that leaves the humans and the Orcs,” Felicity chimed in.

     “The humans aren’t a problem, my liege. They’re already setting up camp in front of Renzig’s Stand and getting themselves in a proper order for interviews. Karya and a good number of the Dryads you brought back with you are already processing them.”

     “Ok, so, the Orcs are mine to handle at a leadership level?” Vince asked, hoping to get something to work on out of this meeting.

     He knew he’d be bored eventually. They’d only gotten back today and he hadn’t gotten a chance to see Meliae or Fes, because they were with his sleeping children.

     There was no doubt in his mind that they’d probably seek him out the moment they could slip away.

     Probably hand the kids to Petra and another Dryad and make a beeline for me.

     “That’d be best, my lord,” Felicity said, bowing her head a fraction to him.

     “Alright. I’ll get right on that. I’ll track down Bermeen and see what all he needs for his people. I’ll try to situate them outside the eastern wall until interviews can be done. What about housing?”

     “My liege, I’ve taken care of that. I had the carpenters start working on large dormitories immediately after I received your message. We’ll need to build two more, but we’re not far off from being able to meet everyone’s needs.

     “After the interviews start, and we finish the other dormitories, we can start building houses. I imagine we’ll see some combined families again though. Having this many Dryads in one spot is allowing a very large number of viable hybrid pregnancies. Humans make great partners. Their traits pass easily and are the most likely to breed with anyone else.”

     “Huh, didn’t think of it like that. Alright. Off to see Bermeen.”

     “Who?” came Fes’ voice from behind him.

     Looking over his shoulder, he found his Fes watching him. She looked different without her swollen belly. And doubly so when he thought of her as being a mother now.

     Getting up he immediately crossed over to her and hugged her tightly.

     She might be an Orc, and wasn’t big on displays, but he wouldn’t allow her to get away right now.

     “Hello, my Fes. I’m looking forward to seeing our child. No one will tell me what the sex is because they didn’t want to spoil it for you.”

     Fes turned a dark green as she clearly blushed, her eyes widening from his sudden approach. Then she pressed her face into his shoulder as if to hide.

     “We have a daughter. She is not yet named, as I did not wish to do it without you,” Fes murmured into his clothes.

     “Ah, a daughter? Interesting, interesting. I’m eager to see what she looks like. She take after you?” Vince said with a grin.

     Fes nodded her head against him, not lifting her face.

     “Good. And as for your earlier question: Bermeen. He’s an older Orc. I challenged a clan for the right to pass through. Had to kill their warleader. Red—you haven’t met her yet—killed the second in command when he tried to ambush me.”

     “Bermeen,” Fes said, finally lifting her face from his shoulder. “You’d consider him an elder?”

     “Uh huh, why?”

     “Ber is a family clan name. Ber Enga. Ber Meen.”

     Vince blinked twice, not quite understanding.

     “I think you just conquered my clan and brought it underneath me as Fes. Bermeen is my grandfather,” said the Orc with a wide tusk-baring grin. “An interesting and unexpected gift, husband.”

     Chapter 13

     An hour later and Bermeen sat himself down across the table from Vince.

     “Warmaster,” Bermeen said, his black eyes giving the small room a once over.

     “This is where I hold private one on one meetings. It’s simply easier when there’s nothing else that can distract the attendees,” Vince explained.

     He didn’t want Bermeen thinking he was disrespecting him.

     The bushy brows of the old Orc came together before he nodded once.

     “Our clan is moving to the eastern wall as you wanted. We’re starting to work with the truth minders. We’ll need orders soon,” Bermeen said.

     “Ah, yes. That’s fine. Most will be given jobs that suit their skills. Be that war, basket weaving, or otherwise. Elysia will probably be on hand or have one of her minions available to give them an appropriate task or job.”

     “The Elf?” the Orc said, with a strange quirk to his mouth.

     “One of them. Two of them are just outside the door waiting to see if they need to storm in and take your head from your shoulders,” Vince said, aiming a thumb over his shoulder at the only door in the room.

     “Beyond that though, what else do—”

     As if because it had been mentioned, the door opened. Turning his head to look, Vince saw Berenga enter and close the door behind herself.

     “Sorry, husband, our daughter woke and needed to be fed quickly,” Fes said, coming to sit down on Vince’s right.

     “Bermeen, may I introduce you to my first wife. Fes Berenga,” Vince said, indicating Fes with an open hand.

     “Ah…” Bermeen started, his eyes locked on Fes. His mouth hung open partially, unable to continue.

     “Grandfather, it’s good to see you,” Fes said, giving him a grin. “Welcome to my home. I am Fes to Vince, lord and ruler of Yosemite.”

     Bermeen sat frozen solid for a few seconds, before he finally smiled back at her. “It brings me joy to see you have found your equal. He said your name earlier when he declared his honor. I did not dare hope it was our Berenga. Your mother and aunt are with the truth minders. Your brother left after you did, to find a Fes.”

     Fes gave a short nod of her head. “Vince killed—”

     Bermeen grunted, interrupting Fes.

     “Yes. He did. It wasn’t even a challenge. It was done in less than two attacks. Then his red eyed pet monster killed his brother when he tried to attack Vince without honor.”

     Fes leaned her head back and laughed loudly. Eventually she got control over herself and leaned into Vince, giving him several kisses.

     “I’ll reward you greatly later, husband. I’m afraid our seed grower tells me I’m not ready for anything for a while yet. Our child was complicated,” Fes apologized. Then she turned and looked to Bermeen. “Speaking of, you have a great-granddaughter now. You shall know her.”

     Bermeen’s smile only got wider. Then he leaned forward and said something in Orcish.

     Fes laughed and slapped the table, lifting a hand to her grandfather.

     Somehow, Vince had fixed the one thing he wasn’t sure he could.

     He watched as his Fes spoke with family she thought long lost to her, in a language he would never master despite his many attempts.

     Vince opened the door to the nursery and slipped in quietly. Sitting in the middle of four waist-high bassinets was Meliae.

     Her green eyes were watching the door as he crept through. He hadn’t been as quiet as he thought he’d been—or she’d been on high alert.

     Giving him a smile she stood up and held a finger to her lips. Gliding over to him she held out her arms.

     Carefully, Vince shut the door behind himself and then wrapped his arms around the Dryad, pulling her in close.

     “Welcome home, husband. You have two sons, and two daughters,” Meliae whispered into his ear.

     Oh, now they tell me. When I’m so close to discovering it myself.

     Meliae kissed him hungrily, pressing him up to the door. She ground herself into him, her fingers gripping his belt tightly.

     As quickly as it came on, she shifted her weight, leaning away from him. Releasing his belt with a shuddering breath she laid her forehead on his chest.

     “Sorry, I’m sorry. Being that pregnant, being so far along that is, really did help with the self control,” she whispered. “Now with you here, it’s so much more difficult.”

     “S’ok. I missed you, too. I know Petra named our son Vince the second. Fes didn’t seem like she knew what she wanted to name our daughter. Now it comes to you though, my Grove Mistress. What do we name our children?” Vince asked, nuzzling her ear.

     She bounced energetically in his arms and then swept away, moving to the two bassinets on the left.

     Vince trailed along, not quite sure what to expect.

     As he got his first look, he felt his face freeze up.

     Two sleeping faces lay motionless in their blankets. Their chests rose and fell, lost in deep slumber.

     “This is our son,” Meliae said, touching the child on the left. “I’m not sure how you feel about it, but I like the name Keith.”

     Vince nodded his head, that seemed like a strong name to him.

     Keith had the look of any other baby he’d seen.

     He wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.

     Maybe it’ll get easier when they get older?

     “Good, Keith then,” Meliae whispered. She brushed a finger over Keith’s brow and moved to the next. “And this is our daughter. I would… I would prefer to name her Mila. It’s my mother’s name.”

     Meliae hesitated and tenderly drew a fingertip along Mila’s tiny arm. “Which might be strange, since our daughter isn’t a Dryad. I’ve never heard of a girl birthed by a Dryad that wasn’t a Dryad.”

     “Mila it is.” Vince nodded his head.

     Giving his daughter a once over, he couldn’t really get around the thought that she already seemed more to resemble her mother.

     Looking back at Keith he wondered if he resembled himself.

     Then his mind went blank.

     He wondered briefly if he was in shock. He really didn’t have any objections to the names, or his children really, but neither did he feel as if he were working at full capacity.

     “Next… we have our second daughter, our firstborn.” Meliae moved to the next bassinet. Reaching in she lightly scooped out the baby within.

     Our? Pretty sure this is Fes and I’s child but… ok.

     Dark black eyes gazed back at him.

     The skin tone wasn’t quite human, but it wasn’t Orcish green either. Apparently Orcish genetics were stronger than Dryad ones.

     His unnamed daughter blinked at him a few more times, before Meliae gently laid her back into her bassinet.

     “For what it’s worth, I believe Fes’ mother’s name is Berest. Just my own suggestion,” Meliae admitted, giving him a grin.

     I suppose your name is now Berest then, little one.

     Passing in front of him she brushed her palm along his forearm and moved to the last bassinet.

     “And finally, our youngest, Vince the second,” Meliae said, peeking in. “Who is ever asleep.”

     Taking a look inside, Vince found that while his son resembled his half-brother, his face was much more narrow.

     “And before you ask, yes. I say ours, because that’s what this is going to be. You’re going to have a good many children, Vince. More than any one man should have. We’ve discussed it at length and that’s what we’ve agreed on. We want to make sure they all get the attention that they deserve,” Meliae explained forcefully in a whisper.

     “I’m not arguing. And yeah, definitely seems like we’re going to be overrun with children,” Vince said, unable to hide the touch of anxiety even he heard in his voice.

     “Don’t worry about that too much. All those Dryads you brought back, and the ones I brought here, will be helping out. As soon as you take them fully into the grove they’ll be helping.”

     “How many are we at now?” Vince asked, taking a moment to stare into the face of each one of his children. After checking in on them all, Vince ghosted back towards the door.

     He didn’t want to disturb those who slept.

     Meliae was practically stepping on his heels, her hands roaming over his lower back and hips as they went.

     “Low twenties I think? I’ll be happy with ten more. We can look into getting more later,” she said in a husky voice. “You’ll need to seed them all soon. In the next week. Most of them have a temporary tree in the back yard.”

     Looking over his shoulder, he found Meliae’s eyes glowing brightly. “I take it you’d like to watch me seed them?”

     Meliae bit her lower lip and nodded a bit.

     “Watch your husband be serviced by twenty other women while you are only allowed to watch?” he asked, experimentally.

     With a flash her eyes were greened over completely, her breathing coming out in short rasps. She had closed in on him, pressing herself bodily to him. “Yes.”

     “Of all the Dryads I have, you seem to really have a preference for watching me with other women.”

     “It shames me. To know you’d choose others over me. My ripe curves and willing mouth. It shames me horribly to be forced to watch you with others.”

     “Huh. Alright. Then from now on, if you’re able to, I think you should watch me with every other woman in our family.

     “Now, I should probably get a leg on. I think I’m supposed to meet with someone but I really wanted to see the kids.”

     Meliae only nodded her head woodenly, her fingers gripping tighter to his clothes, any type of semblance of thought lost in her eyes.

     There’s a bedroom right across the way.

     “Suppose I could stay for ten more minutes. Make sure you get a good ‘I’m home’ greeting from me?” Vince asked, his hands moving up Meliae’s stomach.

     Shifting in the deck chair, Vince stared out over the expanse of his “back yard”, that was more akin to a field. It was huge, with more room than he thought he could ever use.

     Promising he wouldn’t be going anywhere, Elysia had left him there and gone to bed.

     They apparently had a long day of the same planned for tomorrow. Much as the last several days had been.

     There was no light except for what the moon cast down upon it. Torches lined the wall that encircled the property, but none of that light made it in here.

     He also knew for a fact that the Elves had magically warded the entire wall, then put guards along its length at the base on top of that.

     If he had to make a guess, this area would probably be where the Dryads were going to plant things and use on occasion. They loved their natural areas. Torches and guards wouldn’t be conducive to that.

     In fact he could pick out a handful of trees growing.

     Must be the temporary trees Meliae was talking about earlier.

     Everyone was asleep. Even the babies were nestled in their blankets.

     Mother on duty tonight was apparently Fes, and her backup was Petra. Meliae would be backup tomorrow, and on duty the day after.

     Another reason to get the Grove built. Get those three some help.

     The problem for Vince was that he actually wasn’t quite looking forward to “seeding” twenty Dryads in a row. Sure, it sounded fun. But after the sixth he was betting it would become more of a chore than anything.

     Sighing, he suddenly realized what he was thinking and laughed at himself.

     “Ah, poor me. I have to bed twenty beautiful Dryads. My life is so terrible,” Vince said to himself mockingly. Getting up he stretched his arms above his head and wandered out into the dark field.

     Vince felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Walking as casually as he could, he cast about with his senses and mind to see if he could find what it was.

     His thoughts picked up on it almost the same moment that Vince caught the reflective light of a red pair of eyes. They were on the extreme edge of his vision.

     Red had taken up a game of seeing if she could sneak up on him as if he were prey. She insisted it was to hone her skills, but he secretly wondered if she enjoyed not being the apex predator.

     Pretending as if he didn’t spot her, he continued to stroll along.

     As if she were never there, she vanished from his senses. Almost as if she’d backed up and run away.

     Red never bolted unless she felt that the hunt would be interrupted.

     After all, it had become more than a game since he took the opportunity to reward her when she did well.

     By feeding her of course.

     That and I enjoy doing that for her too damn much.

     Reaching out again, Vince couldn’t feel anything nearby. There wasn’t anything lurking that he could detect.

     All was as it should be.

     Which made his paranoia ratchet up several degrees.

     Moving forward he could at least be sure of one thing. If Red backed off, and didn’t attack, that meant whoever was out there was friendly.

     Smiling to himself, Vince decided he might as well make it fun for himself.

     He’d been cloistered in rooms all day going over the details of agreements with the communities, both large and small, that were around Yosemite.

     Gliding off into the murk of the evening, Vince began to get lower and lower to the ground. Moving as quietly as he could, he focused on his senses. Pushing them and letting his instincts guide him.

     There.

     It was a quiet thing. A soft dark hole in the wall. The dark shadow watched him, and kept pace with him.

     Moving deeper into the field, Vince aimed for the bushes and trees, working to break the line of sight between himself and his hunter.

     No sooner had he done so, than he felt that shadow detach itself from the wall and ghost towards him.

     Come closer, come closer. Let’s have a word, Sneaking Sneak.

     Turning partially back the way he came, he wedged himself into a figurative tree branch and waited.

     It took a full minute for his shadow to creep by.

     Thera?

     Vince smiled at the thought that the Dark Elf had come that far along in her stealth work.

     Let’s make this fun. Real fun.

     Gently, carefully, Vince entered her mind.

     Doing everything he could to not alert her, he carefully started feeding her mind incorrect information.

     Such as being able to see Vince out ahead of her, staring up at the sky above. And that the tree to her right would provide great cover.

     As if directed, Thera moved over to the tree. Her head tilted to one side, her ears twitching ever so slightly as if homing in on any sound he might make.

     Trying his hand at something new, he tried to give her mind the impression that she could hear him talking from the false image.

     “Would you still have me, Thera?” the image asked in her mind.

     Thera froze, her entire body locked rigid. A rabbit that’d been sighted by a predator.

     “Yes,” Thera whispered a full ten seconds later.

     Getting his answer, he cut away his ghost image, it simply fading into nothing.

     Thera’s head whipped around and she began to stare into the trees and bushes around her.

     “Vince?” she asked.

     Staying where he was, he fed her the feeling that something was coming from above her.

     Looking up, Thera braced herself, her arms coming out in a defensive posture.

     Moving in a flash, Vince brushed past her. As he went he deftly sliced away the dark black tunic and undergarment she wore, splitting it up the back.

     Moving behind another tree, he used his link into her mind to know her position and what she was doing.

     Her tunic and under tunic sagged, tangling her elbows and forearms up in the fabric.

     Focusing, he pushed an imaginary hand along her spine, teasingly across her skin.

     Thera spun, panting, her breath coming out in shudders. Fighting with her clothes she stared into the night, seeing nothing.

     She was confused, nothing had come from above. Her heart beat rapidly with excitement and a touch of fear.

     And deep inside of that, Vince could feel her arousal.

     She wasn’t a Dryad, or an Orc, but she was a warrior. On some level, Thera felt as if she were the one in charge in most things.

     At this moment in time, she wasn’t.

     Worming a thought into her mind. Of her being watched, eyed, and hunted in the field. Carefully, methodically.

     Her clothes being destroyed one at a time with each pass, never being able to catch Vince as he did.

     Before he finally pinned her to the soft grass and claimed her then and there.

     There was no compulsion in the thought. Only a vague impression of his own want.

     That and it lacked a bed.

     A bed had been promised before, but this was such a random moment in time it would be hard to pass up.

     Vince wasn’t prepared for the response from her. Her mind became incandescent with desire. Her breath hiccupped and caught in her chest as she shuddered.

     She didn’t care about the damn bed.

     You’re a lot more like a Dryad than you’d ever let on.

     He pulled another thought through her mind. That he was already behind her.

     Spinning again, Thera took several steps backwards, bumping up into the tree Vince was hiding behind.

     Reaching around the tree, he deftly slit her belt, pant hem, underwear, and a good portion of the seam in one movement. Clothing hissed as it couldn’t support itself and began to sink.

     Diving towards another tree, Vince rolled up behind it and went back into Thera’s mind.

     It was screaming in exhilaration. He was doing exactly what he threatened her with. She was powerless.

     She loved it.

     Thera stumbled from the tree, putting distance between it and herself. Her mind was a flurry of thoughts, most of them racing around in circles, but she was trying actively to find him.

     Her clothes slid down, prompting her to try and grab at them with one hand. Her top toppled forward, covering her hands and arms and revealing pale flesh.

     Flicking her hand up she managed to get her top free and off while holding tight to her pants. She covered herself with one arm while holding up her pants with the other.

     Shuddering gasping breaths were the only sound that could be heard.

     Her dilated eyes jumped from tree to tree, waiting for his next attack. Her mind secretly hoping for it. Wanting it.

     Unwinding his leather belt from his waist he thought out his next play.

     Again he gave her the impression of being attacked suddenly, from every direction except the one he was in.

     Thera reacted predictably, she put her back to the safe spot and moved as nimbly as she was able.

     Right up until she bumped into the tree he was hiding behind again.

     Moving as fast as he could, he blurred out behind her. Snatching up her wrists, he locked them together behind her back. Wrapping them up in his belt in a fraction of a second, he released her arms. Giving her as light a shove as he could, he sent her tripping forward.

     As she stumbled forward blindly, Vince sprinted out from around the tree and into the darkened brush to one side.

     Panting, Thera’s pants and underwear dropped down around her ankles, her arms belted behind her back. Rotating as quickly as she could, her eyes glinted as she stared at the spot he’d been moments before.

     Turning around, she slowly inspected everything around her. Her breathing was ragged, but her demeanor beyond that one thing almost made it look like she was in control.

     Inside her mind was another matter. It was eerily similar to how Meliae and Daphne responded to these types of games. Thera was normally so reserved, patient, and straight laced.

     Quite fun.

     Deciding it was time to push the fun up a notch, Vince stood up when her back was turned and stepped out of the foliage.

     Waiting for her to turn around again, he started moving as her eyes found him.

     Those dark eyes were wide open. Her breath caught as he advanced on her swiftly.

     Dropping his pants and kicking off his boots as he went, he gave her a smile. Doffing the rest of his clothes just before he got to her, he reached out with his right arm. Thera arched her back away from him, as his arm slid around her hips. Easing her down to the grass gently, he pinned her pants with his knees, effectively forcing her legs to spread around his shoulders, and leaving her unable to lift her ankles.

     Lifting his forearms, he eased her thighs wide and looked down between them.

     Smooth, hairless, and glistening, her privates were exposed and easy to see.

     Glancing up, he caught Thera staring at him wide eyed, unable to do much of anything.

     He kept eye contact with her, smiling, and lowered his head. Casually, gently, he slid the tip of his tongue up along the edge of her lips. Thera’s body tensed around him, her knees locking to his shoulders as if to squeeze him out.

     Chuckling he breathed out against her moist entry. Breaking eye contact with her, he leaned in and worked his tongue up between her lips and into the hood of her clit.

     Thera’s breath caught audibly and she shivered from head to toe.

     Having only touched it once, he let his tongue wander back down the other side.

     Above him he heard the bound Dark Elf moan.

     Using his index fingers and thumbs, he carefully spread her lips apart and moved his tongue into her. Then up towards her pink pearl again.

     Diligently he worked at it, light and delicate he lapped at it. Only to spear into it for a breath to keep her off balance.

     Settling in to his work, he reached up with one hand and began to finger one of her nipples.

     All at once, Thera dropped her knees to the sides, opening herself as wide as possible to him. She didn’t struggle or fight.

     She’d given in and only wanted one thing now.

     To be possessed by him.

     Not to be broken, like Karya.

     Or used, like Meliae.

     Just possessed. Claimed.

     Catching the hint, he released her oversensitive clit and squirmed upwards.

     Pressing his forearms to her shoulders he settled himself down atop her.

     Pressing his thighs to the inside of her legs he lowered his hips and guided his tip into her entry.

     Looking up to her eyes, he got the barest of nods from her, before he simply entered her. Straight to the hilt he went, only stopping once there was nothing left to put inside of her.

     Thera gasped, her body locking up as he ruptured the thin membrane that was her virginity.

     Giving her a few moments to herself he waited. Only after that did he began to work himself back and forth through her. He held himself above her, making sure to move smoothly from hilt to tip with each thrust. Grinding her hips into him, Thera did all that she could to work with him. Lifting her knees up, she pulled them up high, her torn clothes trapping him between her legs. She gave him a wonderful angle to pummel her thighs with.

     Moving steadily faster, he nuzzled her head to the side and then bit down roughly into her throat.

     He hadn’t missed the way she’d eyed Eva’s own marking. So he’d give her a beautiful one of her own.

     Biting into her as hard as he dared, he picked up speed and force.

     “Vince, yes. Please. Inside, please. Please,” Thera whispered, her voice shuddering with the impact of his hips into her thighs.

     Turning his head, Vince only bit deep into her throat again instead of replying.

     His shaft forced her wide around its girth, stretching her forcefully as he took her.

     Eventually his speed and force caught up with him, and he couldn’t hold himself back any longer.

     Pushing hard and deep into her, he climaxed.

     Letting go of her neck, he sunk his teeth into her for a third time, further down where her neck met her shoulder.

     Thera moaned, pushing herself into him as her ankles clasped to his hips, pulling him in close.

     Giving her a few final thrusts, he emptied out into her depths. Then, with a sigh, he released his Dark Elf and slowly lifted himself up.

     He stared down into her eyes.

     She gave him a coy smile, her ankles tightening around him.

     “The night’s still young,” she said.

     Chapter 14

     Vince looked out into the audience chamber that he’d be holding open council in. He wasn’t fond of things of this nature, but everyone assured him this had to happen.

     Every week he was supposed to do this.

     In fact, if there was too much going on, Meliae had already told him it might be every other day.

     What I always wanted. Sitting in a chair and making decisions for people. The dream of every Ranger.

     The audience chamber was rather full. The council seats on each side of the central dais were full. One for every race that was part of Yosemite.

     For the larger races, like Trolls and Ogres, they’d been forced to create a separate entrance and seating arrangements.

     This chamber would do until a proper fort and receiving hall was put together.

     A team of Dwarves were working round the clock to get the stone together to build a fort of their own design. He’d briefly looked at the blueprints with Deskil and found it looked like a monstrosity of fortified thick steel and stone.

     Until that was built though, this assembly hall was the largest building in all of Yosemite.

     “And it’ll be packed full of people all staring at me,” Vince murmured.

     “It’ll be fine, my liege,” Elysia said, tapping her ledger with a finger. “We’ll be there with you.”

     “There’ll not be a problem, Lord,” Thera said, dressed in her full leather armor.

     The deep dark purple bruises on her neck were on display for all to see.

     Eva snorted and waved a lazy hand at him. “All will be well, Master.”

     “Oh, I’m not afraid of something happening. I’m honestly… I’m not made for this. I’m a dirty Ranger who makes a living by braving the wastes for someone else. This… this is all so beyond me,” Vince admitted. He brushed a finger across the strap of his leather armor breastplate.

     They had tried to dress him in something other than his combat leathers.

     He’d declined and threatened to actually run away.

     “Everyone is aware. It’s one of the reasons they all trust you. You’re not here to rule them, my liege. They know you simply want what’s best for everyone, and will use your best judgment, devoid of politics,” Elysia said, stepping up beside him. She gave him a strange look then she swatted him on the ass with her ledger.

     “Follow after ten seconds,” she commanded.

     Quirking a brow at him she turned and entered the hall.

     Thera and Eva gave each other a quick look and followed her in.

     Taking a deep steadying breath, Vince gave himself a shake.

     “Maybe bringer feed Red after? Bringer seems to feel better after a feeding,” inquired the red eyed monster in the corner.

     He’d almost missed her being there. Crouched down low in a shadow.

     She’d somehow developed the ability to “darken” her eyes, as she called it. Their glow would drop to nothing for short periods of time.

     Laughing at her statement, Vince couldn’t disagree. The dominating side of him really did enjoy it. “Sure. Why not.”

     “Good. Red getting stronger with every feeding. Orc wants to fight later. Will try to get her to surrender,” Red said. Then she slithered out of the corner and ghosted out a window.

     He’d noticed that Fes had immediately taken up her duties of first wife with all three elves, Red, Blue, Green, and even Leila for some reason.

     Red and Leila were forced to take rooms in his manse as guests, and the Elves were changed from the guest wing of the building to the wing that Fes and the others inhabited.

     Politics even in my love life.

     After Meliae gave Fes and Petra a clean bill of health, they’d started sparring with all of them. She actively used Petra as her second to drill everyone daily.

     Giving himself a mental kick, Vince moved forward with determination.

     All conversation dropped and died off within seconds of him entering. The only sound was the sound of his boot heels clacking on the stone floor.

     Moving without a word to his seat at the center of the dais, Vince did a quick once over of the room.

     It was packed. Packed and then some. Even the standing room was full.

     His carpenters would be hard at work after this to do all they could to squeeze in more seats.

     Spread out in two wings behind his chair in viewing boxes were his wives, and his inner circle.

     Standing to the right of his chair were Elysia and Thera. To the left of it, Eva.

     Taking a seat in the overly large but simple throne, as it couldn’t be anything else now that he thought about it, he got as comfortable as he could.

     Glancing up to Elysia he caught her eyes and nodded once.

     “This council is now in session.

     “First, a few public announcements,” Elysia said loudly. Looking at her ledger for a second she continued. “Our Dryads have conducted an interview with our new prospective citizens. Save for a few who had to be turned away, we’ve accepted nearly all of them. We’ve added a significant amount of people to our fair city.”

     There was a moment where Elysia was forced to pause as the room erupted into applause. Elysia seemed surprised, but Vince wasn’t. Their reaction was his own.

     Optimism and hope.

     More hands to work. More hands to hold a weapon. More hands to defend a friend. More hands.

     Over three thousand souls.

     The applause died off, giving Elysia a chance to resume.

     “I’m pleased to also announce the number of resident Dryads has gone up significantly. They will begin hosting open hours for families each day. They’ll be available during daylight hours.”

     Another round of applause forced her to stop briefly.

     “Bearing that in mind, those who have growing families will be eligible for housing improvements, or simply moving to a larger home. We’ll do all we can to support you in raising a family. Please consider this a public confirmation of that.

     “On the same topic, as you’re all already aware of, Vince now has four heirs, and all are healthy and hale.”

     There was a thunderstorm of applause and cheers at that. Vince kept himself from squirming at the personal shouted congratulations on his line continuing.

     Nobody could ignore Kitch and the Ogre next to her though. They stood up and pounded their mitts together in a deafening cracking of callused hands.

     “Viewing of the heirs will be in a few weeks, as they’ll be presented to all who would wish to see them,” Elysia said.

     Meliae had assured him that this was something that must be done. The population must know the heirs, know that they existed and feel a personal connection to them.

     They couldn’t only be something spoken of, they had to be real.

     “At this time, there are no crimes that need to be heard in council. Everything has been handled at the local level.

     “Now, on to the agenda. First on the docket is our Dwarven councillor.” Concluding, Elysia sat down lightly in a chair Vince had overlooked.

     A Dwarven woman stood up from the viewing box made specifically for her and her fellow councillors.

     “Lord Vince, I ask that you grant us rights to begin digging down into the earth of Yosemite, as well as exploring the caves,” said the solidly built middle-aged Dwarf.

     Vince thought on that for a moment. “To what end?” he asked.

     The councillor blinked, a small crease forming in her brow.

     “Lord?” she asked.

     Vince hesitated and mulled over his thoughts for a second.

     “What would be the goal? I can’t imagine everyone would want tunnels being dug under their home,” Vince said thoughtfully.

     Suddenly he nodded his head, knowing what he wanted to do.

     “Actually, let’s do this. I grant you and charge you with the following,” Vince said, leaning forward in his chair. “You must first, secure our lands. Begin surveying the earth below our walls and do what you must to insure our defense.

     “Second, I grant you the ability to dig tunnels below any and all streets, avenues, and boulevards. These must also have security checkpoints. Should an enemy breach them, it would not do to have them able to run a straight shot into the heart of Yosemite. I speak of built and triggered cave-ins, guard details, and choke points.”

     Vince paused to change his focus to Henry, one of his captains.

     “I imagine Henry and his people would eagerly take up part of this duty, so you may want to seek him to see what he can assist with.”

     The Dwarven captain gave him a smirk and nodded his head.

     His people really would be at home below ground as easily as above.

     “Third, I give to you the area beneath the Dwarven enclave. Do with it as you will, so long as you do not go outside of the boundaries of the land granted to it.

     “Lastly, the caves are available for all to explore, but not mine. Not yet. We may have citizens later on who will look to them for their residences. I’d like to hold onto that for now.”

     Nodding heads all around the hall could be seen bobbing along with each point he made.

     The Dwarven councillor bowed her head deeply to him. “Thank you, Lord Vince. You’ve granted us responsibility and trust, as well as what we asked for, in equal measure.” Sitting down, she said nothing more.

     “Ambassador of the Wood Elf clan named Silt, to the northeast,” Elysia called out.

     An Elven man got up from a seat in the audience and walked to the forefront.

     “Lord Vince, we of Silt would like to work out a trade agreement with Yosemite.”

     “Alright. Please put together what your requests are in a single document and submit it. We’ll look it over and respond as quickly as possible. Though I’ll tell you now and upfront, I’m not opposed to trade and will welcome it. Please understand that my people are working not on the value of coin though, but for the betterment of everyone.

     “Eventually, we’ll be using standards as currency, or a duplicate. For the time being, though, I recommend expecting bartering until that happens.”

     The Wood Elf bowed his head and went back to his seat without a word.

     “Ambassador to Verix,” Elysia called out.

     A High Elf in a bright blue robe stood up and moved to the front.

     By now, everyone had heard what had happened at Verix. None seemed pleased at someone being here who had sought to trick their Lord.

     “Lord Vince, first let me say I personally congratulate you on your success at Verix,” said the High Elf.

     Vince raised an eyebrow at that.

     Well, everyone has a job to do, even if they don’t agree with their government.

     It only took a quick brush of the Elf’s mind for Vince to confirm what he thought. He was just doing his job to the best of his ability.

     “Unfortunately, as the ambassador though, I must… I must denounce you as a thief and oath breaker.”

     The room exploded in shouts, and more than a few people looked like they were considering rushing the stage.

     Vince held up his hand, and all noise fell off within a single breath’s time.

     “I respect you for the courage to conduct yourself according to your position. That is bravery if ever there was a definition for it.”

     He didn’t need to be the empath he was to see the collective emotional change in the room. They all searched out their own hearts to determine if they could do what this High Elf had just done.

     “As to your charge, I would argue that I collected on what was owed to me. As the Lord of Yosemite, I offer your government the payment I originally offered them.”

     Turning to Elysia, Vince asked her softly. “What was the final count of people we took from Verix?”

     “Four-hundred and twelve. If you were to break out the cost against current rates, it’d come to one thousand, six hundred and forty-eight standards,” Elysia said after a quick check in her ledger.

     “You’re a wonder and a beauty at the same time. You already thought this would come up, didn’t you?”

     “Yes, my liege,” said the blushing High Elf. “Also, you seem to forget that your citizens have fantastic hearing.”

     Looking to the audience, he found no small number of people grinning at him. Moving his eyes back to Elysia, he shrugged. “And? You are amazing and beautiful. Thanks, Elysia.”

     Turning back to the ambassador, who had the good grace to pretend he didn’t know what was about to happen, he cleared his throat.

     “Yosemite is prepared to offer one thousand, six hundred and fifty standards to Verix for their loss.”

     “Most generous, my lord. I will convey your offer to my homeland when I return. I’m afraid I’ve been recalled, and will be departing this afternoon.”