Black Rose Ch. 04

Chapter 4

Rourke

The elf slips out of the door, clothes disheveled and hair askew. She turns and jumps a little, seeing me there.

"Worth it?" I ask her. She nods, smoothing her hair and clothes out, smiling at me.

"Jealous?" She asks me. I ignore her question.

"We're going to ask some questions of the Magebreaker you brought down with that knife throw." She saunters toward me, puts her hands on my chest, looks up at me.

"Wasn't an answer, big man." She purrs. I raise an eyebrow, unconvinced. She bites her lip and then it's my turn to jump, when her hand brushes over my pants.

"I saw it, you know. You and that orc, she was beautiful wasn't she? Just the outline, mind you." She pushes past me, laughing at herself. "Big man."

I clear my throat and realize my mouth was hanging open and I am left to chase after her.

"Wait!" She ignores me and enters the surgical room. I follow her into the room and find Stitcher and Kira already waiting, along with the captured Magebreaker.

"Wait, what?" Kira asks me. I clear my throat again and shake my head, ignoring Sera's wide grin. Damn elf. Stitcher ignores all of us and prods at the woman on the table. He closed up her wound too, at Kira's insistence.

"Wake-wake her?" I don't know why the goblin asks, he goes ahead with the waking part without any of us agreeing to it. The Magebreaker woman starts awake at the smelling salts, pulling against the restraints. It's all rather useless, goblins are not far off from dwarves in the realm of craftiness.

"Where am I?" She shouts, looking around. "Who...wait, you're that mage cunt!"

She gathers up a gob of phlegm and is about to spit it at Kira when I hit her, right in the mouth, closed fist. She dribbles out of her mouth and glares.

"You work for Jann Kellias." Sera says, sitting on the surgical table and picking at her fingernails with a knife tip. "Don't argue it, don't pretend. Let's skip all the bullshit and get right to the part where you tell us everything we want to know and we pretend we let you walk away."

"You will walk away." Kira says. "It would only prove you right, if we killed you."

I don't agree but, the mage is the one that's targeted. I'm just here for...well I don't know why. Feel sorry for her, feel an obligation. I don't know. Boredom, maybe. Shit, spent so long doing this kind of thing that maybe my forced retirement wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Maybe I miss this.

"Fine, but Stitcher will watch you for a week or so, just until we deal with Jann."

"I'm not telling you anything!" The woman shouts, straining again.

Kira leans forward and the woman stops breathing, just like that. I hardly even saw Kira's hands move, it just happened. The woman opens and closes her mouth like a fish out of water, unable to talk. She is still strapped to the table, forced to half sit and half lay there while she struggles.

Then she gasps a breath and stares at Kira, wide eyed and panicky.

"You, him, all the Magebreakers. You killed everyone I care about. You will tell me and you will live, as long as I never see you again. But you will tell me."

"I won't tell you shit, mage bitch!"

Stitcher jams a needle into the woman's shoulder and she yelps, trying to move away from it. It's too late. Stitcher plunges a vial of liquid into the woman's body and removes the needle. He looks at us with beady eyes, unapologetic.

"She-she will tell you."

"What was that?" I ask the goblin. He shakes his head and wanders away. We watch as the woman's eyes glaze over, her body slumps, she stops thrashing and trying to spit at Kira.

"Let's try again. Where is Jann Kellias?"

"At his manor." She mumbles.

"How many guards?"

"Fifty, maybe more." She says.

"Why is he trying to kill mages?" Kira asks.

"Because Elder Nymera was tearing apart his organization."

"What?" Kira bolts up, taking the woman by the wrist. The woman doesn't react, just sits in the fog of whatever drug Stitcher pumped her full of.

"Elder Nymera was tearing apart his organization, they have been at odds for years."

"Always were rumors among the criminal elements. Smugglers just disappearing, ships bursting into flames, product crushed, mysterious figures in the darkness." Sera says. "Never thought much of it, wasn't my world and those types are always looking for ways to skim product."

"He killed thousands, for that?" Kira falls back into her chair.

"Yes." The woman says.

"Hardly anyone was even involved." Kira whispers, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Didn't matter to him. It was a message." Sera says, watching the woman who nods along with her words.

"Then I'm going to send one back." Kira lifts her head, fury boiling behind those eyes.

"We. We are going to." I say. She gives me a little thankful smile, hardly touches that fury. Tough girl, reminds me of...well that doesn't matter.

"Yeah. I guess so." Sera says. "What about Matty?"

"Can't leave him in the city. If, after this, he wants to tag along, why not?" I say. "But he'll have to learn to fight."

"What-what about her?" Stitcher has rejoined us, having carefully stored his tools.

"Wait a few days, let her go."

"Not-not a babysitter!" Stitcher grumbles. I offer him a coin. He bobs his head a few times, accepts the coin, and grumbles a little less. "Few-few days only!"

"How do we get to this manor?" Kira asks.

"Oldest method of transportation, of course." I tell her. She looks confused. I wag my feet at her and she is less confused. She also doesn't look enthusiastic, hardly anyone ever is. "We better start walking."

"Well." Sera offers up. "We can't make Matty walk, not with that hole in him. So...we could...borrow a cart. Maybe a horse or two. And we'll have to stop at my place."

"I've got everything I own with me."

"You should get a weapon, big man. Fists are great but steel is better. And you, Kira, you should probably ditch the robes."

Kira looks down at her robe, with the dirty, worn edges. It must be the only thing she has left to her name.

"You can help with that?" Kira asks. Sera just smiles.

Kira

I stand in awe. Sera has brought us to her hideout once more, I remember this place well enough. I remember the tub, though it stands empty now. I remember the room, even if I wasn't really paying attention when I was here last.

She opens a door to clothes, so many clothes. Shapes and colors and fabrics, dozens of them.

"Who are you?" I ask her.

"Honestly?" She replies, running her hand through the clothes.

"Honestly."

"I'm a thief." She tells me. "I play a role, pick pockets or cheat, then move on to the next. Drunk men are the easiest to trick, they hardly ever notice my hair or face."

She takes clothes out and discards them into a pile, sneering at them.

"Why are you helping me?" I ask her, quietly. She stops, clothes in hand, facing away from me still. She doesn't move for a few seconds.

"Honestly?" She finally asks.

"Honestly."

"At first it was because I thought Rourke would keep the guards off my back and, a sort of morbid curiosity." She throws more clothes at the growing pile. "The Paladin I understand, something made him into one of them, probably has a burning desire to do the right thing. Whatever he did to piss the gods off, doesn't mean he's any less of a good man. Here's something."

She turns and we lock eyes.

"At first." She says, stepping toward me. I haven't really taken the time to look at her yet, we haven't had a moment where someone wasn't trying to kill us. She's nearly as tall as I am, her hair is light red. Her eyes are a vivid, crystalline green. She takes another step toward me.

"What is it now?" I ask her, eyes locked on her.

"My estranged father is trying to kill you, Kira. Do you believe in fate? Destiny? Some grander meaning?"

"I don't know." I say, shaking my head.

"I do." She is in front of me now, close. My heart pounds in my chest, my mouth is dry, She reaches out and her fingers touch my cheek, gently brushing my jaw, my lips. I shiver.

"What about-" I say, she presses her finger to my lips.

"What, Matty?" She laughs, her laughter soft, delicate. "Are you jealous?"

I breathe out and lean towards her. She meets my lips with hers. They are warm and soft and they move with mine, her hands move behind my head and into my hair, tangling there, pulling me into her. Her tongue is in my mouth and I meet it, finding my breath harder to catch as we kiss. Her hands slip down the back of my neck to my shoulders, down to my breasts. I gasp when her hand brush against them and I let my hands slide up her hips, lifting her shirt as they do.

I slide my right hand under her shirt and find a nipple, it hardens to my touch and she moans into my mouth. My left hand continues up her shirt and to the back of her neck, pulling her harder into the kiss. Her hand gathers up my robe, lifting it up and then she is between my legs, her fingers nimble and fluid in their movements. Our hands move over each other, I lift my robe over my head and stand before her naked. She unlaces her trousers and shimmies out of them, I lift her shirt over her head.

I take her in again. She is lean, tall, beautiful. She kisses me, her hands on my chest as she pushes me against a table, lifting me so I am sitting just on the edge of it. She parts my legs with her knee, still kissing me, then her lips are on my neck, my shoulder, my chest. I use one hand for leverage and the other in her hair, feeling her teeth on my skin. I tighten my fingers in her hair when she kisses my breast, then my nipple, her tongue circling it while her fingers do the same on my clit.

She kisses my belly, down, then her breath washes over my pussy before her tongue flicks out and teases my clit. I lean back, one hand gripping the edge of the table and the other in her hair. Her tongue moves with the same nimbleness as her fingers and I lean my head back, gasping for breath. I throw my head back as the flood builds inside, waves of ecstasy coursing through my body. Every muscle in my body is tense.

"Gods, I...I..." I can barely manage the words, gasping and gripping the table tighter, so tight I worry I might break it. Then the flood bursts through. I moan, gasp for breath, and cum with the movements of her tongue. I cum in waves into her, letting the tension out of my body with each wave. Then I fall back on the table, spent and breathing hard.

She stands, grinning, offering me a hand. I take it and she pulls me up to a sitting position, where we kiss again.

"I'm helping because I want to." She says, when our lips part. "Because, I believe in something bigger but, I also believe in doing what I enjoy. Life is too short to do anything else."

I can't answer because the door opens and Rourke steps in, focused on something else.

"Are you two ready to-" He looks up and blushes, looking away. "-we should go.

"We should." Sera says. "I think I found something that is a little less 'novice mage' for her to wear, as long as you want that."

"Life's too short." I say. With everything that happens, it feels true now more than ever.

Rourke

I didn't ask where the elf found a cart and a plodding horse, it serves well enough. With all the chaos in the city we slipped through the gates without so much as a second look from the already haggard guards on watch. I expect she stole it from someone who will miss both a great deal.

That was three days ago. We've been walking since. On worn dirt roads, through forests and farm fields, making our way to the mountains. They are there, off in the distance. Only a matter of days left now. We hardly see travelers on the road, this isn't one of the main trade or travel routes, leaving us lots of time with each other.

Thank the gods for the cart, my armor is piled to the sides. After three days of sleeping rough in the dirt we are all tired, filthy, and on edge. I love it, as much as I hate it. Even when my mind drifts to a shitty tavern and warm beer, or soft lips on my cock, I still love the road more than the rest of all that.

Most of all that at least.

"Next horse and rider we see, we murder the rider and take it for ourselves." The elf does not share my feelings about the road. She has been growing more sullen with each passing hour, I understand, I do. It isn't for everyone and she seems to be quite fond of cities and comforts.

"No." I say. "For the twelfth time today. You only suggested that nine times yesterday. One gold coin on eighteen times tomorrow."

"I'll take that." Kira says. The mage has taken to walking. She's got the traveling clothes on that Sera dug out for her, brown trousers over sturdy leather boots. She doesn't look the part of a mage, I think that's the point. Somewhere she found a long, wooden stave and carries it well. Layers to the girl, no doubt about that.

"Me too." Matrick decides to also take part. He's grown more comfortable with the three of us, not as awkward. Kid has lost everything, seems like it's only fair we look after him for a while. Not to mention having a blacksmith around, even an apprentice, is never a bad thing. I am biased though, I'm the one with the heavy plate armor. I enjoy that we are betting coins that we don't have, between us we could scrape together a few nights at a waystation, some basic supplies. We'll have to fix that at some point.

"I fucking hate you all." The elf declares, sullen. "This shit sucks."

"Try thinking of something you like." I say. "Always helps me."

"I like not walking mile after dirty mile." She curses, stubbing her toe on a half buried rock in the rock. She kicks it into the trees and it bounces off a tree trunk, bouncing back and slamming into her shin. I laugh, roll my eyes, I find it amusing. She hops on one foot, holding her leg up and cursing in elvish. Haven't heard her use that yet.

"Asshole." She says, offering me a rude hand gesture. Apparently the elf finds it less amusing.

"Why don't we take a break?" Kira says. She points off the road, a path through the trees to flowing water. Could be worse spots. We could use it too. Kira leads the plodding farm horse off the main road, if it could be called that. Just out of sight of the road there's a path along the river, we take it a ways until we can't see the road anymore. Prying eyes are never good.

I raise my arm and sniff, then grimace.

"Yeah, we know, big man." The elf says.

"You're no bundle of roses." I tell her.

"Bouquet. Who the fuck says bundle?" She spits back at me. I shrug.

"I'm not fancy, elf. Just a run down Paladin, not some florist."

"Would you two just fuck?" Matrick says from the cart, groaning loudly. He eases himself onto his feet, testing his body a little. Kira is beside him. She giggles, then looks between the elf and me, then nods.

"You two have been sniping at each other every day. Fight or fuck, just get it over with."

"Aren't you two...you know?" I say, looking from Kira the to elf, then back again.

"Haven't decided." Kira just sort of shrugs it off, checking Matrick's wound under the bandages. "Can always fight if you prefer, if you feel so awkward about the fucking."

I blink, slowly. The elf bursts into laughter, shocked laughter. I take some offense to that.

"I'm gonna go wash up." I mutter, waving off the elf's laughter and the amused stares of the other two. The elf can't stop laughing, doubling over with it. I leave them all there, grumbling my way through the trees.

Assholes. I'm traveling with assholes.

Sera

"You think he's angry?" I ask, wiping my eyes.

"He'll get over it." Kira says, poking Matrick's wound. It looks better than it did. Stitcher is an excellent doctor and that's about all that's good about him. The bruising is healing, a little less dark and a little less angry. Matrick winces when she pokes him but, still, it looks better than it did. I look over my shoulder to where Rourke disappeared to and I feel...guilty.

"Damn it. You both good?"

"I don't think he's going to run off." Kira says, applying a clean bandage to the wound. Matrick shakes his head. "We're fine."

"Alright, I guess it's time to swallow my pride."

That makes the two of them laugh.

I follow Rourke into the trees, the big man leaves a path wherever he goes. Easy to follow, even for me. I can track through city streets but I'm not what anyone would call a 'woodsy' elf. I plunge into the brush after him, cursing as a tree branch swipes across my face. I leave behind the giggling pair of morons and enter a world of green.

It takes some doing, but I manage to walk through this disgusting collection of wood and leaves, this filthy mess of nature. At least I have my delicate feet, hardly making a noise. I follow his path, heavy footsteps breaking brush and forging a path through to the banks of the river, just out of sight of where we stopped. I press my hands against a tree, move around it, and stop dead in my tracks.

He didn't waste any time.

He's already stripped to the waist and up to his calves in the water. Rourke is a big man, somewhere in his fifties. Not old, but not young for a human. He can fight, I know he's an ex-Paladin because of that scarred tattoo on his arm. He must have been fighting since he was a boy. With his back turned to me I can see a lot of scars. Puckered marks from crossbow bolts and arrows, long slices of tissue from edged weapons, mottled masses from blunt weapons. Man's been at war.

He bends down and cups water in his hands, scrubbing his face in the clear water of the river, dirt coming free with the rough movements. Then he scrubs his shoulders, arms, neck. He's built like a fucking fortress, thick arms and chest, all that armor he carries around. Even retired from his work, it hasn't all turned to fat yet.

Gods, am I admiring the big ox of a man?

I think I am.

He glances around and I, for some reason, duck behind the tree out of sight. When I stick my head out he's got his hands in the band of his trousers and he pulls them down, stepping free of them and tossing them to the riverbank. There's even a scar on his ass, looks like an arrow wound. I clear my throat and step out. He turns his head but only his head.

"You spying on me?" He asks.

"Just, look, I wanted." I stutter, I'm actually fucking stuttering. Gods, it's hard to apologize. "I'm sorry for being an ass."

"That must have hurt." He says, then he sighs. "It's fine. I've been a bit of a dick too."

"A bit. Why don't we try again? Sera." I offer my hand. He snorts a laugh and doesn't turn around.

"Rourke. Nice to meet you, Sera."

I stand there. He raises an eyebrow.

"What?" He asks.

"How'd you get the one on your ass?" I ask, pointing to the scar. He looks down, brow furrowing in thought, sticking his cheek out a bit to get a better look.

"Orc arrow. Clans were sweeping through and burning villages loyal to us, some folk prayed, couple of Paladins ended up going there with a militia, pushed them back."

I pull my pants down and stick my ass out at him. He squints and then laughs. There's a scar on mine too, not a pockmark like his though.

"Got stabbed by a drunk, can you imagine!" I say, laughing. "I was running a scam on this tavern and he got really upset that I wouldn't jerk him off, I'm not that kind of girl after all, ended up in an all out fight. He broke a bottle and stabbed me."

"What'd you do?" Rourke asks.

"Knocked a few of his teeth out." I pull my trousers back up. I stand there, Rourke still with his back facing me, looking over his shoulder, standing there with the water coursing around his legs. He turns to face me, just a little, enough so I can see a scar that starts at his ribs and runs down to his waist, a diagonal slash across his sturdy torso.

"Got that during a fight with a necromancer, wasn't even the fighting that did it. I slipped on the femur of one of his destroyed skeletons and fell across an old suit of armor, cut myself open on a jagged edge. Can you imagine?"