Convergence

Whisper nodded at the tailor and crossed the road. She passed through the alley beside the moneylender's, and vaulted over a low wall. The granaries were built of mud brick, round and topped with dome-shaped roofs of grass or clay tile. Each structure was built atop a platform to discourage rodents, allowing a hands-width of space between its floor and the ground beneath.

Whisper grinned to herself as she saw her shadow enter the alley, and she slipped amongst the spool-shaped storehouses. She decided to put some distance between her and her pursuer and then loop around to confront them. Swiftly, she trotted down the aisle of granaries. Just ahead, the sun dipped beneath the horizon. Whisper turned down a row to her left, and stopped.

Just a few granaries ahead, a woman blocked the path. Her hair was bound up in a headwrap, her arms and shoulders bared by a plain wrapped dress. Whisper's attention focused on two details, however: Tiny ritual scars that darkened the flesh on her neck and shoulders, spotting her like a leopard. And the kirri she held at her side - a long, slender club topped by a knob of heavy wood that looked like a nasty bit of work.

"I don't want to mess up that pretty whore head," the Thandi woman said. "Be kind to yourself and come nicely."

Whisper rolled her eyes. She glanced back the way she'd come. Her shadow was there, taking off the hat to reveal a woman's face and tumble of dark braids. Behind Whisper, a third Thandi stepped out of the shadows.

Whisper darted in the one direction that remained, back towards the west. She didn't like this. She was being forced into a trap. As the thought crossed her mind, she saw something, not ten paces ahead, that made her gasp.

It was a head taller than her and broad, though the thick muscle and ruff of fur on the back of its neck gave it a hunched appearance. It wore pieces of leather armor on a powerful humanoid body. A mask of hide barely concealed its hyenoid face. A bajari.

A demon.

Of course there were clandestine demons in the city, like Mother. But the hyena-like bajari were anything but clandestine. They were brutes. Whisper might be able to stand up to one or two Thandi, but this...

Without a second thought, Whisper sprang up, fingers hooking on rough ledges between the bricks on the granary beside her. She kicked off her sandals, finding purchase with her toes. In two breaths, she climbed atop the thatched roof. Her hat slipped off. Her black tresses spilled free. She vaulted over the pathway to the next granary, and then to another.

A woman climbed up to the roof ahead of her. Whisper didn't stop. She leapt to the same bit of thatch and clung. Her adversary was stocky, full lips twisted into a sneer and a curve of scars adorning her collarbone like a choker. Whisper ducked under the swing of the kirri club and shoved the other woman off the roof.

She saw movement on the ground below. It was getting difficult to see in the shaded passages between the storehouses. As she jumped to the next granary, something clipped her foot. She landed off-balance on the clay tiles, knocking some loose and scrabbling for a grip. Unable to cling, she slid off the roof's far side, dress rucking up around her thighs. She landed on the balls of her feet. Keeping to the shadows, she scooted around another granary. Whisper crouched there, listening, back up against the rough brick.

Nine hells. How many of them are there?

In the shadows, it was difficult to tell where they were. She was like a fish in a net that was tightening around her.

"Whisper," said a voice like gravel. It was the bajari, only a couple of granaries away. "I am Bouda. Bayati has told me so much about you. You and I will have fun together."

Whisper slunk away from the voice, slipping around another granary. Hiding would not work for long. The bajari would be able to track her scent. She heard the voices of the Scarred Women now, calling to one another, as they tightened the cordon.

Godsdamned Bayati. Whisper remembered Adder's advice. Miko and Adder were the only ones who knew she was out here, the only ones who could have helped spring this trap.

"I will finally put that hungry mouth of yours to good use," the bajari taunted, drawing closer. "And that yoni of yours to an even better use."

Suddenly Whisper realized why Bayati's flavor had been so familiar that previous morning. It was because of the man the Thandi agent had recently rutted.

Miko. You backstabbing pile of dung...

"But I don't much care for the name Whisper," Bouda went on. The demon was nearing the granary corner now, claws scraping along the brick wall. "I think Whimper suits a breeding slave better."

Whisper's hand groped beneath and behind her, into the crevice underneath the granary. She had a talent for getting in and out of tight spaces.

If Miko had betrayed her, the Thandi wouldn't have had to shadow her all day. They could comb every part of the city she had gone to for her secrets.

They could find Mother.

Trembling fingers felt through the thin linen of her dress to the serpent-shaped stud that pierced her left nipple. The huff of the bajari's breath was just a few steps away.

Miko. The gods-damned Thandi. All of them. They are going to pay.

Biting back fear and anger, Whisper uttered a single word. Her dress crumpled, to the ground, empty.

She slithered into the darkened crevice under the granary.

Chapter 1

Zhura lay on her belly, basking in the warmth of the evening sun and Keya's soft strokes upon the curve of her back.

"So the last king of Chide from Malindi Clan was Queen Yamou's great great granduncle. And since Yamou married your father, his heir will be her son," Keya said. Her excitement was as plain as it was incomprehensible. "This is all so fascinating! And fortunate for you."

Zhura closed her eyes. She was pleasantly full from the supper Lila had prepared, a stew with greens and okra. Though this wasn't the Sung Valley, some of Zhura's home foods were common here. She had missed okra, the way it jelled in the mouth and lent its silkiness to a stew.

The hibiscus oil Keya massaged into Zhura's skin had a fragrance both subtle and intoxicating. With Keya's help, the herb-witch had re-braided her own hair, and the plaits still held their freshly oiled scent.

"Of course," Zhura said, dragging her mind back to the conversation. "Fascinating."

"Nubic right of succession is matrilineal. But women do not rule."

"Yes, that is very fortunate."

"Don't you see? You were worried that your father's wife might see you as a threat to her children. But by law, you have no birthright at all. Yende's by-blows, though he is king, have no claim to the throne. So you need not fear."

Zhura scoffed. "By-blows?"

She twisted around. Keya lifted herself so that the herb-witch could roll onto her back and face her lover. Then Keya eased down again, straddling Zhura.

Unlike Zhura, who'd doffed her brief skirt and halter, the priestess was mostly covered, with a brown and cream wrap that hung over her shoulders and upper legs, and a raffia straw hat that shaded her pallid skin. Unbound golden braids had grown down past her shoulders. The woman seemed to enjoy constantly brushing the locks away from her face.

They lay upon mats under a shelter of grass thatch upheld by a frame of cut boughs. Lila had prettied the shelters up with a border of rocks for seating, fresh sprigs of lemon bush and mint leaves to keep ants and mosquitoes away. Ngo, Musa and the former maidservant occupied a neighboring shelter. Both structures were in the center of a vast finger millet field ringed by sparse-looking trees with red seed pods.

The farmer who owned the field provided these shelters for his farmhands. While the field was fallow, he was content to lend it to Zhura and her friends for a copper bit each day and occasional game meat Ngo and Musa brought in. As a result, the five companions enjoyed privacy, access to a well, and the protection of the city's ancestral wards.

In the week since they'd arrived in the city where her father was king, Zhura had accompanied Keya to the Brassbelt to listen to more roadside storytellers than Zhura could remember. The priestess seemed to have a limitless appetite for the lore of this place. If they didn't spend all their coin buying millet beer for gossipy old tale-weavers, they certainly would lose it replacing the very rare vellum and ink Keya scrawled notes upon.

"Do I really need to meet my father at all?" Zhura asked. "Even if there is no danger from the queen, the Thandi are here. Every time we go into the city, we risk you being identified." She reached up, her hands slipping under Keya's wrap and caressing her belly. "We have a sixth person to keep safe now."

In fact, the last six weeks had been something close to idyllic, especially since the rains had stopped. They'd followed the Brassbelt Road through the Nubic Kingdoms of Samucha and Chide, earning coin by hunting and foraging for herbs. In Samucha, they'd been treated like local heroes for tracking and capturing a gang of bandits that had been extorting farmers.

Pregnant women Zhura had treated back in her home village of Boma had looked upon the fostered herb-witch with pity, contempt or suspicion. How different it was to care for a lover, especially one as affectionate as Keya. The priestess seemed healthy after her first two months of pregnancy. She reacted well to herbs, rubdowns, and frequent rutting.

Ngo, Musa and Lila had also become fast friends. The men had an instant respect for one another. Lila, who had already been rutting Musa when they'd met in the border town of Binga, had wasted no time seducing Ngo. She'd basked in the attentions of two men. The little maid's muffled cries of pleasure were frequent background noise in their camp.

For a time, Zhura had been able to forget her fears about what would happen when they arrived in Morore. Now that time had come to an end.

"I was a selfish fool to even come here," Zhura said. "We could have stayed in Kitu. There were good people there."

"There is nothing more sacred than to know your Ancestors, Zhura. To know where you came from, and why."

"What if I was just a 'by-blow'?" It pained her to even give shape to the words. "What if the 'why' was just a casual rut for Anathe and Yende?"

"I can tell you stories about your mother. But Yende fathered you, and he knew her. Why did she leave you to him, if it was just casual? Why did Yende give you to such a good man to raise if he didn't care? Meaning brought you into this world, Zhura. Don't walk away from it when you've come so far."

Zhura sniffed, feeling tears well up. She couldn't have shared this with anyone but the priestess. "Thank you," she whispered.

Keya pursed her lips in thought. "You're right, though. We shouldn't risk me being seen along the Brassbelt anymore. What we need is a plan for you to reach King Yende. Discreetly."

Ngo suggested Zhura simply go to the palace and request an audience with the king. He said there was once a thriving group of Sung warriors for hire in the kingdom. Like Zhura's father, and Ngo himself, they'd ventured south from the forest, seeking their fortunes. A few elders still got drunk in the boarder and chophouses along the Brassbelt, and they swore Yende was an honest man.

If it weren't for the Thandi, Zhura might have gone to the palace alone. But she was loathe to leave the others without her protection. Keya couldn't blend in if her life depended upon it. Because of Bayati's treachery, the Thandi knew that finding Keya would lead them to Zhura. And yet, if Keya went to the palace, she would surely be identified as an Ikanjan fugitive.

The priestess ran her oiled fingers up Zhura's side, stroking the herb-witch's bare skin. They brushed over Zhura's nipples, along her collarbone and neck. Keya pushed the brim of her hat up. She bent to kiss her lover, gently, on the eyelids.

"We will need every ally we can get," she said.

Zhura suppressed a sigh. "You mean Blossom."

Keya sat up again. She grabbed Zhura's hands and guided them up under the wrap, eyes twinkling with mischievous heat. "I mean Blossom."

They did have consecrated wards now, each of them. Keya had blessed bangles of brass for herself and the others as they traveled through the Nubic Kingdoms. They were all safe from direct harm by Blossom, or most any other demon.

The priestess's breasts felt fuller and heavier than they had weeks ago. Her nipples had already stiffened. She moaned as Zhura tweaked the little nubs.

"Only if the others agree," the herb-witch said.

Keya closed her eyes, nodding slightly as Zhura caressed her under the wrap.

"Come," Zhura said, somewhat reluctantly. "Let's ask them."

They stood and ducked out of the shelter. The other shelter was only a few paces away.

Musa squatted, naked, outside of it, rubbing himself down with shea butter. The grass under the wiry hunter was still wet from his recent bathing.

Ngo lay atop Lila under the roof of the shelter. Their lips were locked together, her feet curling up over his hips and butt as they gently rutted.

"It looks as if you've been left out," Zhura said to Musa. At a nod from him, she bent to help the hunter, scooping some of the shea butter from the jar and rubbing a thin layer on his back. She drank in the clean, nutty scent of him.

He shrugged, taut muscles rippling along his shoulder blades. "They've been playing their guessing game again. He won."

Lila was intensely curious. Zhura had overheard her peppering the men with questions about their backgrounds. Musa wasn't the wagering type though, and he rarely shared.

Keya eyed the entwined couple with interest. "What happens when Lila wins?"

"Usually the same thing, Lady," said Musa.

Keya giggled. At the sound of her laughter, the two stopped nuzzling each other and looked up.

"We invite Musa," Lila pouted. "But he believes I can only handle one at a time."

Keya raised a pointed finger. "I happen to know that is untrue."

Ngo pecked the former maidservant on the lips. He lifted his sleek, dark body off of her. "I know this look," he said. "Zhura wishes a group talk."

"I don't want to interrupt," Zhura said. She could have spent much more time rubbing Musa down, though he didn't need it.

"Maybe we can join them later," Keya whispered to her lover, not very quietly. She cleared her throat. "It's about Blossom."

They all sat around the edge of the shelter. The sun dipped below the horizon. Other than Keya, none of them wore more than a loincloth and their bangles.

"If we ask a favor from the demon, xhe will demand something in return," said Lila, with an expression that seemed hopeful.

"What is to stop Blossom from simply running away?" Ngo asked.

"I have xhis summoning stone," said the priestess. "Xhe cannot escape the city wards without the stone. Xhe also greatly fears the Thandi. Blossom will not want to remain alone in Morore, where the coven is strong. Xhe needs us."

"So we enlist Blossom's aid while I go to the palace," Zhura said. "The demon helps protect all of you."

Zhura would have preferred that they kept a watch at all times, but they had grown lax on the farmer's land, where there were only rarely wild animals and no passersby. With her gone, they would need Blossom's help as a sentry. "In exchange, we offer to release the demon? With its stone? How do we know it won't enslave the locals?"

"I have a plan that might prevent that," said Keya.

"I would breed with Blossom," Lila offered. "To sweeten the pot."

"That's not the plan," Keya said.

Ngo glanced at the maid with keen interest. "Do we all get to watch? Or perhaps participate?"

"The plan is not to offer Lila as a breeder!" Keya insisted.

"Summon the beast," Musa said, gruffly. "There is no threat to us to negotiate. If Blossom does not agree to your plan, then banish xhim."

"I agree," said Zhura. "But understand that this demon can be extremely seductive, even without touching you physically. If you swallow enough of its seed or its nectar, Blossom will enslave you. Keep your water gourds close to you."

Keya looked at each of them in turn, until they signaled their assent. Then she went back to the other shelter to retrieve the summoning stone from her satchel.

Ngo, still naked and seated next to an equally naked Lila, turned to her. "Would you really rut Blossom in front of us?"

"Would that excite you?" she teased. "To see the demon pump me full of xhis seed?" Her hand slipped into Ngo's lap. She whispered in his ear.

Zhura scoffed. "Ngo, you would rut Blossom in front of us. You are the only one of us who has never been close to the demon."

Musa nodded his agreement. "The creature's scent is intoxicating, and xhe considers all humans to be thralls."

Keya returned, with the polished wooden phallus in hand. Carven vines twisted around the shaft like thick veins on a popo. She sat down next to Musa, placing him between her and Zhura.

Across the little circle, Lila swung around so that she was on all fours, her hands propped on Ngo's thighs. She murmured to him, her words too low to be heard. But he grinned, and the effect on his already glistening cock was obvious. Lila dipped her head, continuing to tease him. She wagged her pert little ass at the others. The lips of her yoni were still dark and swollen.

"That looks like another invitation," Keya observed.

Lila turned her head. "I want to be filled from both ends," she moaned.

Musa shifted uncomfortably. His cock was beginning to swell, an umber serpent waking from its sleep.

Zhura whispered in his ear. "I can say from experience that there is nothing quite like being rutted by a man while you take another in your mouth. Knowing that you are the center of two men's attention. Being filled and pleasured while you please others. It would be a great gift to grant her wish."

Musa rubbed his sparse beard. He stood up and approached Lila. He caressed her slick seam with his fingers. Then he bent to lick her, his nose in the cleft of her wiggling ass.

"Ah. That's a good man," Zhura observed.

Keya scooted closer to her lover. She set the summoning stone on the mats. "Now I feel left out," she complained.

"You are such a trouble-maker," scolded Zhura. She gestured at the lustful scene before them. "Does this happen everywhere you go?"

Keya gaped. "Me? What did I do?"

Zhura seized the priestess, and tossed her hat away. "I don't know, but I love you for it." She drew Keya into a tender kiss. The priestess still tasted of grassy, slightly sweet lemon bush tea. Their tongues entwined as they listened to the soft moans of the others.

"Make me come, princess," Zhura whispered.

Keya nodded eagerly. She slid down, between Zhura's breasts, down her belly. She burrowed her nose into the damp fabric of Zhura's loincloth.

Musa kneeled behind Lila. He guided his stiff length into her from behind. She moaned in response as he found his mark. The hunter placed his hands on her waist, holding her steady against his slow thrusts. Lila gasped, but Ngo held her head down, a hand in her spiky, short hair.

Zhura tossed her head back as Keya tugged her loincloth down her hips and off. The priestess was such a pleaser. Zhura remembered the first time they had been together, when they had been possessed by the Ancestors Mama Nyah and Papa Yaz. Zhura had rutted Keya until the priestess couldn't stand up straight, yet she still went down on Zhura like a starving woman. If Zhura hadn't brought Keya out of her frenzy, they might never have escaped that haunted hill.