Barbarian Tales Ch. 08

"What Lady Helen lacks in skill with the sword, she makes up with her bow and excellent horse-riding." The blue-skinned woman was also watching the Lady Helen and her steed ride on.

"Certainly," Girn agreed.

"What were you saying when Lady Helen interrupted you?"

Girn turned his attention back to the dark elf. Closer now, Girn observed the shine to her blue skin was partly due to the sweat on her arms and face. There were also droplets scattered across her chest and the top of her moderate bosom. The rigid jacket still did a fine job squashing her breasts together, presenting a hefty portion and creating a seriously enchanting cleavage. If her skill with both blades didn't defeat her enemies, her cleavage would surely do.

"Your swordcraft is masterful, Lady..." Rebus had introduced her from afar the previous day, but Girn couldn't remember her name. She smirked and eyed Girn craftily, as if she knew what he was struggling with.

"Lady Maeve," the dark elf said, inclining her head. "And you are Girn."

"That's me," Girn said. "Pleased to meet you, Lady Maeve."

"The pleasure is all mine," Maeve smiled. "I'm honoured with the presence of the fireproof barbarian."

"Ah," Girn managed to voice awkwardly. "That was only for the sake of staging a spectacle. Let's focus on your skill with two blades."

"You really think I'm skilled?" Lady Maeve asked, a twinkle in her eyes.

"Of course! The way you effortlessly weave around, brandishing two sharp weapons, both offensively and defensively."

"Do you want to test yourself against me?" The question had but crossed Lady Maeve's lips and Girn was enthusiastically nodding and smiling. "Alright, but not with that greataxe of yours, it's too sharp and deadly for a little amiable sparring."

Girn replaced his magical greataxe for a practise sword. It felt off in his hand, not being used to the light weight and different balance compared to his larger two-handed and two-bladed weapon. He turned to face Lady Maeve, but before he could ask if she would also swap her dagger and shortsword for practice pieces, the dark elf already charged in.

Maeve dashed forward with her two blades raised. Girn lifted his sword in time to block both blades lunging at him. But before weapons connected, Maeve turned into a ball, rolling under Girn's sword and through his legs. Using the pommel of her dagger, Maeve hit the back of his knee, Girn buckling, kneeling. This acrobatic dark elf was fast!

Turning and jumping back to his feet, Girn saw Lady Maeve smiling, gesturing it was his turn to attack.

"C'mon Maeve! You can beat him!" Lady Helen, if Girn remembered right, the long-legged brunette, called to the sparring duo. She was not a dark elf like Maeve, her skin not coloured, indicating her wood elf heritage. Beautiful as Lady Helen was, Girn couldn't be distracted by her.

Girn swung overhead, only hitting the ground as Lady Maeve dodged to the side. Girn swung wide in response but the practise sword missed the nimble dark elf again. This was already getting rediculous, Girn thought. Swinging this small wooden stick at a dexterous foe. He felt like an idiot when he stabbed and Lady Maeve pirouetted out of the way.

Girn took pride in his fighting skill but felt like he was being played with. Was that a smirk on Lady Maeve's face? He felt anger bubbling up but succeeded in keeping his rage from taking over. It was only a friendly sparring match.

Then it struck Girn. Without enough room, his opponent wouldn't be able to dodge and duck away. He had to get Lady Maeve into a more enclosed space. But of course that wasn't possible in the open training grounds.

There seemed only one solution: continuously press his opponent, not giving the briefest moment to react to his next attacks. With that in mind, Girn advanced on the dark elf.

He swung and swung and swung tirelessly with the small practise sword. Each time he got closer to hitting Lady Maeve. He could hear her heavy breathing, the onslaught tiring his opponent. There was also frustration written across her face as Girn didn't give her the chance to counter or launch an attack of her own. Lady Maeve got more and more sloppy, Girn grasping the opportunities and grazing the dark elf with the wooden blade.

Eventually, his opponent sprang back, lowered her blades and called, "Yield!"

With the back of his hand, Girn swiped the sweat from his brow. "I accept your surrender," he said and smiled widely. "Although you would've had me if I didn't adapt as fast as I did."

"You indeed quickly learned where to put your sword, finding and filling all my openings," Lady Meave winked, the naughty meaning behind her words palpable.

This startled Girn, and he was not ready for the sudden feint, dodge, duck, and stab combination Maeve fired at him. Inside his guard, bodies only a handspan apart, Maeve had complete freedom to stab her dagger where she pleased. Girn could do nothing about it, except...

He pumped his legs and barged into Lady Maeve. The lithe dark elf lost her footing and fell backwards, rushing to meet the dirt. Before she thumped against the ground though, Girn had knelt down and caught her in his arms.

Lady Maeve looked relieved, but then she saw Girn's discarded sword and lifted her dagger against Girn's neck.

"It looks I've won," she smirked foxily.

Girn laughed and put Maeve on her feet. "I'll not argue because it was a striking fight. But remember, next time I won't catch you again," he winked.

"If that's your way of asking for a rematch, then I accept!"

Girn could use as much practise as possible with the prospect of infiltrating an undead-ridden keep to kill the necromancer that plagued the land and would eventually attack the city of Yeledor.

Walking to the side, they both sat down on a bench, quenching their thirst with their waterskins.

"That was an exciting duel," Lady Helen had walked up. "Your battle prowess matching each other's."

"Thank you, Helen," Lady Maeve said. "Those are welcome words after that fight."

"You two seem very close for wood and dark elves," Girn interjected, immediately after unsure if it was a tactful comment.

"No worry, that's a valid remark," Lady Helen said, reading Girn's expression. "The wood and dark elves are known to have waged war for as far back in history as the emergence of our races."

"The world is changing," Lady Maeve continued. "Time to put aside our differences, we've suffered enough under the age-old conflict."

"As you can see," Helen bent down and hugged the dark elf. "We can be friends."

"That's amazing to see," Girn affirmed.

"Here, let me dab you dry," Helen said, approaching Girn and drying his forehead with a towel, giving him an excellent view of down her blouse as she leaned forward. Her breasts were not as large as the other ladies at court, but they still were nicely rounded and sitting perky on her chest for her lithe body.

Girn looked sideways to avoid being caught spying Helen's bosom, but he was met by the suspicious gaze of Maeve.

"Uhum," Girn cleared his throat, standing up. "Thanks for that, Lady Helen." He looked at the waning sun. "Time for dinner, if you'll excuse me, ladies. Eager for that rematch, when you have time," he added to Lady Maeve.

**********

SWAN TOWER, THE PALACE, CITY OF YELEDOR

**********

Lady Aenys was disappointed.

The buxom blonde thought she'd left a more memorable impression with the barbarian. But Girn had not yet knocked on her door. And the longer it didn't happen, the more likely it wouldn't at all.

Oh how she would've enjoyed being ravaged by the strong brute. All the nobles at court were spineless cowards and incapable of a good fuck. Yes, she admitted, there was the occasional knight that satisfied her needs momentarily. But she needed the strong barbarian to plough her thouroughly. She needed Girn to fuck her so hard she couldn't walk the next day. How long had it been since she last orgasmed so hard she almost fainted? She loved that feeling, but it had eluded her for some time now.

Aenys cursed herself for not trying harder and leaving the ball in Girn's camp. It was up to her to engage the barbarian again and lure him to her chambers.

She looked down at her already very revealing gown. Showing even more of her bosom and she might as well be walking around bare-chested. Aenys shrugged. If that was what it took... She shook her head. There must be another way. Then she had an idea and laughed at the simplicity of it.

Satisfied with her plan, Lady Aenys undressed and reclined on her bed. Although certain Girn would satisfy her in the near future, she was too impatient and needed a little something in the meantime.

Aenys performed her usual masturbatory routine, imagining her fingers were the barbarian's massive throbbing cock. Lady Aenys ended up panting and quivering with two fingers in her wet pussy and two in her tight ass, barely satisfied.

**********

THE PALACE, CITY OF YELEDOR

**********

After dinner, Girn strode down a deserted hallway. He had eaten at the table of Lord Favian Seaworth again, accompanied by Lady Nemira. Lady Lilith had not been present. The dark-skinned woman had acted like a panther, her sights set on Girn as her prey. Lord Favian seemed blind to the sexual tension and deaf to the innuendos Nemira threw into each conversation. As long as this lead to Nemira's bedroom, Girn didn't mind. He actually looked forward to the ebony woman making her move and getting his hands on her full-figured body. Come to think of it, it would be the first time Girn had shared a bed with a dark-skinned woman.

When he had exited the mess hall, Lady Nemira had given him a cryptic message, whispering into his ear, "A stable without horses. A window without view. A hole without filling. Come after dark, of course."

Lost in thoughts, deciphering Nemira's message while also undressing her in his mind, Girn bumped into someone when he turned a corner. He reacted quick enough and caught Lady Lilith before she fell to the ground.

Her eyes went wide. "Oh, Girn... It's... You." Was that panic in her voice?

"Apologies for bumping into you."

"No worries, I'm fine, thanks to you." There it was again, a slight tremble in her voice.

"Are you sure, you sound disquieted."

"It's... nothing."

Girn crossed his arms and furrowed his brow. "Doesn't sound like nothing. Maybe I can help with whatever's bothering you."

Lady Lilith looked skittishly up and down the hallway. There was nobody else. "Alright," she sighed and spoke softly. "I suspect you know, Girn."

He raised an eyebrow. "I know what?"

"I saw you there. You must've known immediately." Her head slumped down and she sniffled.

Girn shook his head. "I'm really not following."

"The whole secret identity, you must've seen." Lady Lilith looked up, worry in her eyes, tears forming, her fiery mane in the background.

Wait a moment, Girn thought. That's it! She has the same luscious red hair. The large pale orbs are the same skin tone as the half-moons revealed in Lilith's plunging neckline. Her eyes, now wet from tears, shone bright and Girn could imagine them looking across a jeering crowd. Of course she could've easily be confused with the Ice Princess Lyra Frostkiss.

"Your mask slipped at The Amazing Chest! You are the Mistress of Foxes!" Girn exclaimed incredulously.

"Sssshhhh, please, Girn the Barbarian, I beg you. Guard this secret. I'll do anything you wish." The redhead's bosom jiggled as distress rocked her body and a tear rolled down her cheek. Uneasily, she began fidgeting with the buckle of the sash around her robes, with arms stretched downward intentionally pushing out her tits. The entrancing pale orbs were almost slipping from the deep neckline of Lilith's robes.

Was she seducing him? Offering herself in return for keeping a secret? Bah, Girn the Barbarian had more integrity than she thought!

Girn was proud he kept his gaze up, gently lifting her chin up, looking into her watery eyes, her bottom lip quivering. "Your secret is safe with me," he said, soothing Lilith's worry. Taking the sobbing redhead into his muscular arms, Girn hugged her and whispered in her ear, "And nothing is expected in return."

"You're so kind," Lilith said.

"And you are a beautiful woman, an elegant dancer, and a great performer. Why you want to hide that is not my business. But I'll promise to not tell a soul." Girn ended the embrace, tucking loose locks behind the redhead's ears.

"Thank you," Lilith smiled, her gorgeous face lighting up. "I'll not forget you are a virtuous and kind man, Girn. I'm sorry for the nervous breakdown."

"It's perfectly alright, sweet Lady Lilith. I'll not keep you any longer. I'll be seeing you around the palace."

"Or in The Amazing Chest," Lady Lilith shyly said, a flicker in her eye.

Girn laughed, bowed politely, and walked on.

"We'll see," he said. "I guess we'll see."

*****

She used the reflection on the flat of her broad dagger to peer around the corner. At the end of the hallway, the barbarian was talking with Lady Lilith.

Gods be damned, she thought. She had been so close to burying her dagger in the barbarian's back. Her companion not far behind to plunge her blade into his throat before any sound could escape his lips. The hallway had been empty, no witnesses, no collateral. Their footfalls were as silent as a feather falling on the ground, their target oblivious to their presence. It had almost been perfect.

Now, the redhead could see them coming and alert the barbarian. And killing Lady Lilith was not to their liking. It would make this a whole lot messier. And they didn't do messy.

She turned back around and shook her head. Her companion scrunched her nose in anger at the missed opportunity.

Steps down the hallway made her raise her dagger again to see Lady Lilith approach. They hid their weapons and casually turned around the corner.

"Greeting, Lady Lilith."

"Greetings, ladies," the redhead returned to them both and walked passed.

She quickly looked down the hallway, but the barbarian had already gotten out of sight.

TO BE CONTINUED...