Enchanted Ch. 05

Here we meet John the Lover... but don't call him that to his face! Read on and learn why. Special note, there's some adult content here, but nobody's bumping uglies this time around. Not worry, there's more coming soon!

John turned and saw the snarling man launch himself from the archway of the parlor. His arms were outstretched and his fingers curled into vicious claws. John threw himself out of the chair, twisting and stumbling to the floor while Irena screamed.

"Don't hurt him!" she pleaded while John rolled to his feet and scrambled to keep the chair between them.

"Shut your whore mouth!" the intruder spat at her. He pointed a finger at John and growled, "You got no right touching a married woman. I'll have your balls shoved down your throat before we throw the rest of you to the sharks!"

John glanced at Irena. "Married?" he mouthed.

She shrugged and offered him a weak smile.

"I didn't know she was married," John told the enraged husband.

The Master of the Lifts snarled at him and made a move to come after him. John darted to the side, keeping the chair between them.

Off to the side they both saw Irena trace a puddle of John's seed with her finger that gathered between her breasts. She lifted it and sniffed it before licking her finger. Her eyes widened and her nostrils flared. She stuffed her finger in her mouth to suck it clean and moaned around it.

Her husband's face went from red to purple with rage as Irena gathered more of John's essence and brought it to her mouth.

"There's no coming back from this," John realized.

Her husband threw himself at John and crashed into the chair. John jumped back as the chair toppled over. The Lift Master flopped and fumbled and scrambled up after him.

John made a dart to his left. His spear was there against the wall, just inside the parlor door. There was a raving madman and a neglected housewife obsessed with licking herself clean between them.

"You stay away from her!" the husband growled. He drew a knife from his belt and brandished it. "I'm going to cut you up and feed you to my ogres!"

Did ogres eat humans? John couldn't remember. Then again, he may have never known. He'd been a civilized man before, not the sort to tussle with ogres and goblins and worse.

The man lunged at him, forcing John to leap back. He bumped into another chair and spun around it before the man could catch him with a swipe of his knife. John grabbed at his arm and fumbled with the tie on his dagger before pulling it free and yanking the blade out.

John held his weapon out, pointed at the man, and said, "She didn't tell me she was your fie."

"You think a fool woman like her would live in a place like this on her own?" he growled and feigned a lunge.

John jumped and realized he'd been tricked too late. He bounced off a wall and had no choice but to swat at the knife coming at him. His arm caught fire with agony as he batted it up and away. Blood ran down his arm and splattered the floor and wall.

John cursed and jumped around, ducking around a chair and putting it between him and Irena's husband. He had a path to his spear now, but Irena lie in the way. If he ran the man would be able to catch him too, there'd be no chair between them then.

John thought fast and threw his dagger. There was no skill or finesse to the throw. He didn't even grab it by the blade to hurl it properly. It tumbled through the air with the grace of a drunken sailor, but the clumsy attack made Irena's husband throw up his hands and dodge out of the way.

John bolted away, leaping over a nearly oblivious Irena who was holding her breast to her mouth and licking his flavor from it. He stumbled and staggered into the wall, but his spear was there and that was what mattered. He grabbed it and spun around, holding it in both hands tight to his side with the pointy end towards his attacker.

Just in time, the man pushed himself off the wall John's dagger throw had forced him into. He charged, snarling, and drew his dagger back to thrust it forward into John's naked chest. A shadow moved in the archway from the sitting room deeper into the house. Irena's husband passed it unaware. A red tipped tail darted out and stabbed his ankle, turning his snarl into a cry of pain.

John watched as the man fell forward. He slammed face first into the ground and lost the grip on his dagger. The blade rolled and clattered across the wooden floor to lie at John's feet. John looked down and then up as the man lifted his head and saw the dagger. He lifted his head further, straining his neck to meet John's eyes.

John stepped forward and lowered his spear until it was only a few inches from his face. "Are you finished?"

"You son of a whore," the man growled. "I'll have you killed!"

"Just kill him and be done with it."

John looked up, surprised to hear and see Zynga. She was leaning against the frame of the archway the man had passed. "Zynga! About time you showed up."

"Would you prefer I showed up earlier? Maybe help you show this man's wife a good time?"

He growled and started to push himself up. The pressure he put on his foot took the fight out of him and made him sag back to the ground. John moved his spear a little closer for good measure.

"Just kill him or we'll have to look over our shoulders."

"Hello, who are you?"

Zynga looked over at Irena, who had sat up and was leaning to one side. "Do you know John? Are you—"

"She's my assistant," John said.

"Your assistant?" she asked.

"Irena, this is Zynga."

Zynga let her eyes linger on the woman's node charms before saying, "The pleasure is mine, but the day is young."

Irena blushed and looked away. She jerked her head back a moment later and then climbed to her feet. She looked down at her husband and frowned. "This is terrible," she said. "Why did you have to come home, Harold?"

"My wife's seen walking off laughing with some strange man when she's supposed to be bringing me lunch?" he sputtered. "What do you think I'm to do? You'll be lucky if I don't throw you out and brand you a cheater and a whore!"

Zynga made a rude noise. "Whore's get a bad rap. They do some of the best work in the world if you ask me. Put up with a lot too. More than self-righteous fops like you."

He twisted to look at her. "Who are you, some half-wit half woman?"

"John, you really need to kill him," Zynga said.

John frowned. The blood running down his arm ran down his spear and dripped onto the floor in front of Harold's face. "I don't want to kill anyone. This was a terrible misunderstanding. Irena, how do we get out of this?"

Irena frowned. She looked at him and then yawned before shaking her head. "Oh my," she said as she reached out to grab a chair and hold herself steady. "I'm worn out."

Harold growled and tried to shift again. John was ready and kept his spear pointed at him.

Irena crossed her arms under her breasts and tapped her foot before she looked at John and smiled. "I've got it!"

"I'm all ears."

"There's a lot more than ears to you," she argued.

"He's at least two third cock," Zynga agreed.

John sighed and stressed, "Your idea?"

"Ah, yes, well... I'll marry you and you can be the new Lift Master, since it will be my property."

"What?" Harold shouted. "You dumb bitch, I own it!"

"Yes, but if you die, it will be mine," she said. "I never wanted harm to come to you, in spite of everything... but I think this is best."

"By the Floating Stones of Azados," John groaned. His arm was on fire too. He'd gotten used to the agony some but now the constant ache of it was grating on him. "This is madness!"

"Irena, you, uh... you missed some," Zynga said.

"Hmm?" Irena asked and focused on the halfling. "What's that?"

Zynga tapped her own throat in the hollow of her left shoulder. "You missed some."

Irena gasped and reached up. She felt the wetness and scooped it up in two fingers. She gobbled it up and slurped it off her fingers before blushing and mumbling, "Thank you."

Zynga winked at her.

"You're all going to die," Harold vowed. "I'll see to it personally that you get dropped in the pit for my ogres. They'll smash you and tear you limb from limb before eating you before your eyes!"

"You see, I never wanted him to come to harm, but if he's going to threaten you, John, you can't let him live. You don't deserve that."

"It's an arguable point," John admitted. "I bedded his wife when you told me he was your brother."

She blushed. "Yes, well... you were— are— so handsome and strong and manly!"

Harold glowered.

"Just do it, John," Zynga said. "You said it yourself, there's not much here for us."

Irena did a double take between them. "Wait, you're going to leave? But... but... I just met you! Surely you can't mean that."

John winced, partly from the pain in his arm and partly from the pain of Irena's plea. "I— we— do need to be moving on. I think... yes... it would be best if we did."

"No! You can't. I need you. Stay, John! Stay with me. I promise I'll take the best care of you. You can bed me anytime you want and...and... and you don't have to give me children if you don't want. I'll let you do what you did today. Coat me in your manliness. Mark me as yours... or ... or in my mouth? You taste amazing, unlike anything I've ever tasted. I would gladly drink of you again and again. You are better than the finest wine."

John had to tap Harold in the forehead with the tip of his spear as he began to rise up in spite of the pain in his swollen ankle. Harold cried out and fell back. He reached out in front of him, feeling blindly and then cutting himself on John's quad bladed spear. He jerked his hand back and blinked his eyes until he shook his head and blinked again.

Seeing Harold cowed again, John spoke. "My beautiful Irena, I will come through here again. It would do me well to know you were here. To have such a precious friend here would soothe the ache in my heart for knowing I had to move on. Better yet, to know that you can finally show the fools of this town your worth by running your business as it should be run. It makes me swell with pride to think such a thing."

Irena's hand went to her chest and pressed against her heart. Her eyes shimmered and she nodded. "You... you believe in me! You really do!"

"I do," he agreed.

A sob slipped from her lips before she rushed to him and hugged her naked form around his.

Harold growled and sputtered but a fresh prick of John's dagger in the small of his back stilled him. Zynga squatted beside him and winked at the man. "This isn't going to go well for you," she promised.

John fended Irena off with a chaste kiss and a gentle nudge. She backed away and nodded her understanding. "What of him?" John asked. "Do you really still think... how will you explain it?"

"He said his ogres would eat you?" she asked.

John grimaced and nodded. "That's what he said."

"Well, it's simple enough then. We'll feed him to them."

"You still mean to use ogres at the lifts?"

"I... it seems horrible, having such dangerous creatures here. But what else can I do?"

"Horses, I think. They'd be best, but you'd have to do some work and hire and engineer," he said. "I know it would be safer. Probably cheaper in the long run too, without the need of so many guards and all the weapons and armor they require," John reasoned.

"The cost of feeding the ogres is something too!" she said. "I've seen his books."

"I told you to stay out of my business affairs!" Harold sputtered. "Such matters aren't for women!"

"You're a special kind of dumb, aren't you?" Zynga asked.

"Be silent!" Harold snapped at her.

"John, it must be done," Irena said. "Do this, my love. If not for me and how much it will make my life better, then for yourself. Protect yourself."

"You love me?" John asked.

She blushed and nodded. "I do... I will cherish the memories I have of you and your love for me. For what else could such selflessness be than love? To wish to improve my life with no benefit of your own? To make me better while you endure these difficulties now... that is love if ever I have dreamt of it and prayed to the saints for it."

John swallowed and forced a smile. He turned back to Harold and stared into the man's eyes. He saw hate and fear though, but mostly hate.

"You're weak," Harold said. "You can't do it!"

John caught Zynga's eyes. The imp gave him an encouraging nod and made a stabbing gesture with his dagger.

"I'm not a saintly man," John told him after meeting his eyes again. "I thought this a mistake, but now I wonder if some greater fates are at play. You're a foul man, Harold. Foul and cruel. This, I think, is the best for us and mayhaps even the best for Widow's Edge."

"What, you fucking my wife behind my back?" he lifted his head high and asked.

"No, this," John said before he thrust his spear forward. The topmost blade caught Harold's chin. The bone caused the spear to angle down slightly, but the blade was sharp and sliced into his throat and buried the point into the hollow of his neck.

Harold jerked and tried to push himself up and away. Zynga leaned her knee into the small of his back, pinning him down. He flailed with his arm but John's spear was edged into his throat. Blood sprayed and spattered the floor as Harold coughed and gagged.

John steeled himself and leaned into his spear holding the man down. The color drained from his eyes, leaving them dark until his eyelids fluttered shut and John felt his spear warm in his hands. The warmth spread, rushing into him and bringing new energy into his eager and grateful magic.

The ache in his arm was wrapped in a fresh cocoon of warmth. It didn't burn this time, rather it soothed. The feeling faded away, leaving only the magic feeling stronger than ever. When John refocused on Harold he saw the man was still. Deathly still. He pulled his spear free and let the man's head fall to the floor. He was dead.

Zynga smiled and stood. She reversed the dagger in her hand and handed it back to John. "Well done, Master."

John stared down at the dead man and felt nothing. He was hollow. He had no remorse and no satisfaction. Harold was nothing to him. Nothing but an obstacle in his path. Whether that was good or bad he wasn't sure. He certainly didn't need to be upset, but should he be? Had he killed before? He couldn't remember. His ambivalence made him wonder though. Had death long been a trivial thing to him?

Irena pressed herself to him again. He felt more than her warm flesh this time, he felt cloth too. When he looked down he saw she was holding his robe against him. John took it and then met her offered lips with his.

"You must go," she said. "I'll take care of this."

"Take care of this... how? He's a fully grown man!"

Irena cocked an eyebrow at him. "After all the faith you've shown in me, my love, you think I'm not capable of this?"

"I... no, I guess I am. You're right."

"I'll deal with him. No different than cutting up a side of antelope, I suppose. I'll deliver him in pieces to the ogres and let them know their Master is gone. Dead forever... and once they've feasted on him they'll be free too. They're simple brutes, but not as stupid as Harold thought them. They're certainly not the animals he made them out to be."

John pulled his robe on while she talked. When she finished he took her hand in his and kissed her knuckles. "You make me proud, Irena. I'm happy to give you this chance."

She yawned. "I am too, John. So happy... I should be sad, I suppose, but I'm not. Knowing I'm helping you chases those shadows away."

Zynga winked at John and moved past him to stand in the hallway near the front door. "We should be on our way, Master."

"Yes... yes, I guess we should. Irena... I don't know how to give you a way to contact me, but as soon as I find one, I'll let you know," John said.

Her hand went to her mouth and she blinked her eyes to keep from crying. She fanned her face a moment and smiled. "Be safe, John. Be safe and go with my love."

John gave her a final smile before following Zynga to the front door and then out and onto the street. The sun was in the east now, moving fast towards the sea and announcing the day was nearing its end.

"Come on, John the Lover," Zynga said.

John scowled. "Don't call me that!"

She laughed. "I had no idea how much fun this was going to be. You're a disaster waiting to happen, you know that? But you're not weak. Witless and prone to thinking with that giant cock of yours, but not weak."

"I need to slow down," John said.

"Slow down? You've barely gotten started!"

"I know," he said. "But my dagger? I know how to cut a steak with it. My spear? It's a walking stick with a sharp end, as far as I'm concerned. I need to know how to use these things. That could have been much worse than a cut on my— my arm!"

Zynga stopped after she realized she'd taken a few steps without him. She turned and saw him pulling his sleeve up and checking out his right arm. It was stained with dried blood but the cut itself was scabbed over. He poked at it and winced before pulling his robe back down.

"I felt something... at the end there, when I... you know," John said.

"Rammed your spear down his throat and fed him his own blood?"

John grimaced. "Yes, that. Anyhow, I felt something. Not just the power of his energy being absorbed, but my arm was swathed in heat. A soothing heat."

"For your type a cut like would take days, if not weeks, to heal. If yours is scabbed over already I'd say that's a good thing."

John nodded. "Yes, I suppose it is. Still hurts though."

She snorted. "You're a warlock, but you're still human. You can be hurt and you can die."

He nodded. "All the more reason I need to learn to use this magic and my spear and dagger. I feel strong though. The magic has been strengthened today."

"Good, you've already wet your dick today, spend the evening learning how to use your magic to do more than keep it wet," Zynga suggested.

John rolled his eyes. "Yes, I need to figure out how to use this magic to create effects, not just influence women."

"You could influence men too," she offered. "Especially if they find you as handsome as Irena and others do.

"I'd sooner let Steff use her wooden leg on me!" John sputtered.

Zynga cackled and said, "Let me know if that happens, I'd enjoy watching, I think."

John fell into his thoughts as they walked. He was theorizing how to use the magic to create spells like he'd once known when they reached the Broken Mare. Zynga stopped and gestured for him to proceed.

"You're not coming in?" he asked.

"And watch you eat and sleep? What fun is that?"

"Don't you eat?"

"I can, but I'd rather not," she said. "I have a special diet."

John nodded. "I forget what you are, sorry."

"That means I'm doing my job," Zynga replied.

"Well then, until next time... have an interesting night, Zynga."

"Oh, I always do, Master," she said and turned away. She strode away and disappeared between others walking down the street. John kept watching but didn't see her again, even after the crowd passed.

He shrugged and went into the tavern. It was busy again, a common occurrence, it seemed. He made his way to the bar and flagged down Cassie. A smile lit up her face and she made time to head his way.

"Milord! It's good to see you again. I heard there were some people looking for you earlier. Some sailors, I think I heard. Pa knows more about it. Can I get you anything?"

John tilted his head. Sailors... Steff? No, she'd be a single sailor and, with a wooden leg, that would stick out. Others than. Maybe from the same ship? Some of the Red Witch's crew? "Thank you, Cassie. Would you be a dear and bring up dinner to my room? I've some work to do, I'm afraid, I'll need to dine privately. Ale too, if you would."