Harrow's Wife Ch. 03

"I know. Believe me, I'd feel like a soggy turd, giving up on you like that. But...I can't be found with a witch on board. We'd all be guilty by association and led off in irons. I've got fifteen girls I have to think of here."

Gwen nodded. She could understand Lana's position. "You said there was a second option?"

There was a brief silence.

"We can make your magic work, and you can fix everything with a magic spell," Lana said.

Gwen was quiet as she considered. Even if she could access her magic, which she couldn't without the Bond, she didn't see how she could 'fix everything' with a spell. Magic was a tool, not a cure-all. Granted, magic would give her more options than she currently had, but it was all a moot point anyway.

"Harrow's too far away, and in any case the Bond expired three days ago."

"But if you had your magic?"

Gwen shrugged. "Maybe?"

"God's balls, woman! I don't need 'maybe', I need a 'yes' or a 'no'," Lana hissed. "If you had your magic, could you get through safely?"

"Give me a minute to think," Gwen said, trying to picture how things would go.

The barge would stop at the blockade. There would be a number of boats containing Red Capes. Some of them would board the barge. They'd search everyone and everything. They'd see Gwen's brand...and it would be all over.

So her options were to prevent the blockade from stopping the barge, prevent the Red Capes from boarding, or prevent them from finding her on board.

If she had her full power, invisibility might be an option, but given how difficult it was to do properly and how the Bond distorted her feel for the magic it would be haphazard and clumsy at best. She could blast the Red Cape boats with fire, but that would only make it obvious that a witch was on board and make the barge a slow-moving target for reinforcements - and expose her as a witch in front of fifteen opportunistic young women. No...whatever she did, it would have to be subtle and low-profile.

"Yes," Gwen said at last. "If I had my magic I could make myself invisible for a period of time so the Red Capes couldn't see me." She tried to sound sure, and didn't mention the possibility that the magic-distorting effects of the Bond would cause it to fail. Lana wanted certainty.

"Okay, then. Make the Bond. With me."

"It's not possible."

"You formed it with Harrow, you can form with me. I'm stronger than you think. I've survived worse than that."

"It's not a question of strength," Gwen said. "The Bond requires...congress." At least in the darkness, the other woman couldn't see her blush!

Lana was silent for a moment. "Why does it need that?"

"The...act...releases power. I can use it to make the connection. Without it, I don't have enough magical strength - the brand seals it inside me."

"You say 'the act'. What act?"

Gwen frowned. "I mean...culmination. Climax."

"Yours?"

"No...Harrow's."

"You don't need to do anything, as long as Harrow drains his balls?"

Gwen cleared her throat. Such language! "My...eagerness...adds to the energy. We're both...inflamed...when I invoke the Bond."

"So you've both got to be randy, he needs to fire one off, and then you can make the Bond?"

"I suppose...that's one way to say it," Gwen said, resigning herself to speaking in the vernacular.

"Then...it doesn't actually require a cock. Just two lusty souls and a hard come."

"I'm not sure I follow."

"I think we can do it. You and me."

"What?"

"We can inflame one another, and when I climax, you can invoke the Bond."

"But...you're not suggesting..."

"Our options are these," Lana said, her voice quiet and no-nonsense, "We make the Bond and you do your magic...or you get off this boat first thing tomorrow."

Gwen wanted to protest further but caught herself. Lana was right - her options were limited.

"I'm...not sure."

Lana patted her shoulder, a reassuring gesture. "Think about it tonight. I'll visit again at breakfast and you can let me know your decision."

*

The night was long and sleepless as Gwen wracked her brain for a better idea, a third option that Lana might have missed. She couldn't go it alone, that much was sure. She'd be dead or in chains inside of a few days.

But the other option - engaging in relations with another woman - repulsed her. Nothing against Lana, of course, she was fair of face and had smarts and bravery in abundance. The idea just felt...wrong, somehow. It was the natural order for a woman to lie under a man. How would congress between two women even be accomplished?

But there were no other options, and when Lana brought her breakfast the next morning she realized the long night of deliberation had been fruitless.

"Your thoughts?" Lana whispered as Gwen finished an apple.

She let a breath out slowly. "Let's attempt the Bond."

Lana nodded, then rose and left the tent. She was back a few minutes later with a bucket and cloth, and spent a minute securing the ties on the tent flap, ensuring a modicum of privacy. She knelt next to Gwen's bedroll.

"Let's agree that we will never speak of what is to come. What happens here we'll take to our graves."

Gwen realized the declaration was more for her benefit than for Lana's - Lana didn't seem especially reserved or modest. Likely she'd seen - and perhaps done - worse than this in her day. Gwen appreciated the gesture.

"Thank you."

"But," Lana said in a low voice, eyes locked on Gwen's through the thin veil, "I'll feel no regret, no shame for this act, and nor should you. We will do what's necessary to save your daughter from some very evil men. As a mother, you can do no less, and I would insult the memory of my sister if I didn't do all in my power to aid you. Am I being clear?"

Gwen felt a welling of emotion at the plain-spoken words, and put her hand on Lana's without thinking.

"I didn't believe Harrow when he vouched for you, but I can see now his words of praise didn't go far enough. You're not only trustworthy; you have a noble spirit and I'm in awe of your courage."

There was a quiet moment between the two of them that somehow didn't feel awkward.

"Let's begin. I'll take the lead, you follow along. Agreed?" Lana said.

Gwen nodded, face already red under the veil.

"Lie on your back, arms at your sides. Breathe slowly and deeply. Breathe with your belly, not your chest."

She did as Lana said and she could feel the other woman loosening and removing the linens on her legs and hips. In a few moments Gwen was naked below her navel

"I told the others I was bathing you, so it won't look suspicious if we're interrupted with you half-bare."

"Very clever."

"Keep breathing, nice and deep and slow."

Then she felt Lana's hands, warm and soft, on her bare stomach. The hands didn't move, just rose and fell in time with Gwen's breaths. The touch was unwelcome at first, but as the minutes passed and they remained in place, it became less so. The heat felt good, at least.

"Deep breath in...deep breath out," Lana said in a whisper that managed to be soothing, even under the circumstances. Gwen felt the tension in her lower body beginning to ease.

And then the hands moved, the palms beginning a slow circle from her navel to her left hip, down over her pubic hair, to her right hip, then back to her stomach. Gwen tensed at the more intimate contact. The warm hands made another pass.

"Breathe, love. Always breathe. Focus on that. Deep in...then all the way out."

She realized she was holding her breath and let it out slowly, then resumed her breathing as Lana directed. The hands didn't stop, and after a few minutes the touch became comfortable and her muscles relaxed again.

"Let's have your legs wider now," Lana said, not stopping her slow, hot caress.

She spread wider but Lana seemed content to continue rubbing, her soft voice reminding Gwen every now and then to breathe deeply. Gwen found the experience to be...pleasant. Lana was gentle where Harrow was demanding, and patient where Harrow was eager. She was surprised to discover that thoughts of Harrow were comforting and welcome.

"Deep breath in...deep breath out," Lana said. The palms changed their course, sliding down over her hips, dipping between her inner thighs, then rubbing brazenly over her bare sex, fingertips stroking the outer lips on the way back up to her stomach. Gwen's breath caught at the too-familiar caress of her privates, but Lana repeated the stroke again and gently reminded her to breathe.

It took several minutes for Gwen's body to accept the new touching, but she managed to focus on her breathing. The repeated fingertip caress of her sensitive folds was a stark contrast to Harrow's attentions - he tended to touch her with his fingers only briefly, to confirm she was wet enough to accommodate his cock. She could almost imagine it inside her at that moment, filling and stretching her, pressing into her depths. The thought gave her a little shiver.

After another minute, Lana's caress changed slightly, the fingertips gliding between her nether lips on their way up to her belly, slippery strokes against the sensitive bud near the top of her slit. It felt at once mortifying and wonderful - Gwen's obvious wetness and the perverted nature of the touch humiliated her, but at the same time her loins quickly came to anticipate the thrilling surge of sensation that accompanied each upstroke.

"You're doing well, love. Nice, deep breaths. Breathe for me."

Lana was steady and skillful, her touch unhurried. After a short time Gwen's breathing was more rapid and her hips were lifting slightly to meet each pass over her swollen nub. Very gradually, the other woman narrowed her focus, her hot hands rubbing lightly in tight circles over Gwen's sex. Gwen's legs were wide now, inviting Lana to touch whatever she pleased. She had to stifle appreciative gasps whenever those nimble fingers would delight her most sensitive spot.

"Hold your hand out, index and middle finger extended," Lana whispered, not stopping her delightful torment.

Gwen did as asked, both curious and strangely eager to follow where the younger woman would lead.

Lana changed position, kneeling close to Gwen's body, her hip nudged against Gwen's side, still facing Gwen's lewdly-presented sex. She reached back and took Gwen's wrist, slipped it under her dress and in a moment Gwen felt her fingers enveloped in a hot, wet sheath of soft flesh.

It was another few seconds before Gwen realized the implications of the new sensation, and by that time the younger woman had resumed her heavenly attention to Gwen's sex; rubbing, stroking and fondling her, making her squirm her hips and splay her legs shamelessly.

"Breathe, love...nice and deep. Hold your hand steady; don't move it. Keep your fingers pointed..."

Lana began a gentle rocking of her hips; her tight, slippery opening admitted Gwen's fingers as far as they would go, then withdrew until just the fingertips were inside, then sank down onto them again.

Lana was having sex with Gwen's fingers!

More than that, the younger woman's expert touch was incredible, threatening to pull a loud moan out of her with every pass. It hardly seemed real, as though a lusty, depraved spirit had entered her body and was firmly in control.

She could feel Lana's inner muscles tighten, hear the appreciative sigh from the other woman. Warm wetness ran down Gwen's fingers, soaking her hand to the wrist.

"Ooh...don't stop..." Gwen breathed, hardly realizing she'd spoken at all. She knew her climax was close, could feel the tightness building in her abdomen and deep in the centre of her.

"Are you ready with the Bond?" Lana said, barely audible.

The Bond! Gwen opened herself and could sense their mingled energies rippling and swirling in the air around them. Powerful - certainly sufficient for what was needed.

"Tell me when," Gwen replied, then bit back a groan as Lana's touch became determined, and demanding. In moments her climax crested, coming from deep down, grabbing hard. It felt every bit as good as anything she'd felt lying under Harrow.

"Now," Lana gasped, and Gwen could feel the younger woman's sex squeeze and contract as Gwen's fingers sunk deep into Lana's clinging sheath.

She summoned her power and pushed it through the brand, the technique familiar now after her times with Harrow.

And then it was over, and Lana was wiping Gwen's fingers with the wet cloth, rinsing the residue of their lovemaking off Gwen's thighs, and then washing herself with water from the bucket as Gwen lay still and tried not to pant too loudly.

"You did well," Lana said, her tone brusque, "Did it work?"

"Hold out your hand, palm up," Gwen said.

Lana did so and a tiny sphere of water appeared, hovering over her hand and growing steadily as Gwen pulled moisture out of the air.

"God's balls," Lana whispered, eyes wide.

Gwen had access to her magic once again. She hoped she'd have enough control over it to do what needed to be done. The lives of everyone on board depended on it. Most important, Ana's life depended on it, too.

*

It was a vulnerable feeling to be standing outside the tent under the light rain, watching four red-cloaked men board their wide barge. Gwen was invisible, the palm of one hand lightly resting on the back of Lana's bare neck, her other hand clutching The Hound's sword by the sheath.

They'd practiced invisibility a few times that morning, and physical contact was essential - if Gwen wasn't touching her, it became impossible to exert the level of control necessary to achieve the effect. The Bond added a layer of difficulty to her command of the magic.

The barge had been intercepted by two double-masted longboats, each carrying eight Red Capes. The fighters had swords, with cruel daggers in their belts and crossbows too, but wore little armour. Doubtless their reputation as brutal and proficient combatants - and their superior numbers - dissuaded most folks from becoming too hostile.

"Who is in charge of this vessel?" shouted one of the Red Capes.

"I am Lana, of Skeeter Flats. We travel under royal invitation to the Harvest Festival in Radu."

The Red Cape who had spoken - their leader, most likely - walked over to stand in front of Lana. He radiated danger, and the look in his eyes was one of mixed contempt and confidence.

"And what is the nature of your business in Radu?"

"We're entertainers," Lana said, her tone carefully neutral.

The man scoffed. "Whores, you mean."

Lana handed over a rolled-up parchment. "Here is our authorization to travel, issued by the Royal Office of Trade and Commerce."

He made no move to take the document. "We're hunting a witch," he said, then paused to look meaningfully at the other women, "Or perhaps more than one. They're known to travel in covens."

"You'll find none here. I can personally vouch for each of these girls."

"The words of a whore mean nothing," he said with a sneer, then raised his voice. "I want them stripped and searched."

Immediately the other Red Capes moved to obey, shouting and shoving the women into a line, then roughly pulling and yanking the clothing off the woman at the front. The normally bawdy, boisterous women were uncharacteristically meek and quiet as they waited to be inspected. And wisely so - any display of resistance could only end poorly.

"What's in there?" the leader said, nodding in the direction of the tent.

"I'll gladly show you," Lana said evenly, then slowly turned. Gwen changed position, lightly holding Lana's bare arm so as not to get tripped up as the Red Cape followed them into the tent.

Inside, the leader looked around and kicked Gwen's bedroll aside to endure there was nothing underneath. There was nothing else of note in the tent, so he turned to face Lana.

"Undress," he said, meeting her eyes with an expression that managed to be disdainful and leering at the same time.

Gwen felt her anger rising but forced herself to hold it in check - emotion was a luxury she couldn't afford while she struggled to keep the invisibility in place.

"Of course, sir. I have nothing to hide," she said in a calm voice, loosening the laces at the bodice of her dress.

"I'll be the one to decide that."

Soon the dress was pooled around Lana's ankles and her linen shift was quick to follow. In moments Lana stood naked and unashamed before the Red Cape captain.

Suddenly the man's hand shot out and roughly grabbed Lana's forearm, bringing a cry of pain from the woman.

"So...are you a witch, or a whore?" he said in a low growl. "Maybe I should bring you in for interrogation, just in case."

Lana's eyes widened at the obvious - and credible - threat, and her composure slipped a little.

"You...don't have to do that. I'm...a whore. But we do have royal permission..."

The man used his painful grip on Lana's forearm to force her to her knees in front of him. Gwen was forced to stand to the side and change her grip again, resting her hand lightly on Lana's naked shoulder.

"If you're a whore, then prove it."

"Sir?"

"Surely a whore knows what to do when she's kneeling for a man."

There was a brief pause as Lana struggled with her options and Gwen fought to contain a swelling rage inside her chest. Even with her magic constrained by the limits of the Bond, she'd have enough power to fry the filthy leer off the captain's face. But it wasn't the time. Perhaps later there would come a reckoning...

"Of course, sir. It would be my pleasure to service you. And at only three Silvers, I'm sure you'll find the price more than agreeable."

"What did you say?" The captain said.

Lana looked up at the man, and just for a moment her lips pulled back in revulsion, a tiny crack in her careful mask. "Whores get paid, sir."

And in a moment everything changed.

The captain smacked Lana hard on the face, sending her toppling to her side and knocking Gwen off balance. Gwen stumbled back a couple of steps, breaking both her contact with Lana and her concentration.

And then the captain's eyes opened wide. "Witch!" he yelled, his voice carrying the alarm for all to hear.

Gwen was visible again, still wrapped in her linens and holding the magic sword. There was a commotion outside the tent, women screaming and the sound of booted feet hurrying to the tent flap. Too horrified to move, Gwen was an easy target as the man lunged at her, knocking her to the deck, then bent to grab her as he reached for his sword...

...But somehow Lana had the captain's dagger in her hands and with a primal roar she buried it to the hilt in the captain's chest. The man died with a confused look on his face.

The tent flap was ripped open and another Red Cape charged through, but Lana was moving too, still naked, bending and grabbing the hilt of The Hound's magic sword, yanking it from its sheath. The sword glowed a white light as Lana spun around and buried the tip in the second man's heart, her hand guided by the enchantment on the blade.

The second man collapsed not far from the captain and Lana looked back at Gwen, eyes wild with terror and a crazy exhilaration.

"Flee! I'll take as many as I can," she said, before turning back to face the third man to enter the tent, clutching the hilt of the sword in both hands.

Flee? She was on a barge in the middle of a wide river, surrounded by heavily-armed Red Capes. There was no escape. They were doomed. Even with the might of a magic sword, Lana would be no match for the crossbows. The finality of her situation began to sink in and she uttered a quick, hopeless prayer to the gods.

And then she felt it.

Power.

Power unlike anything she'd known before. Arcing and surging through her, filling her to overflowing. Raw magical energy on a scale that scared her.

The third man entered the tent, sword drawn, but before Lana could think to swing the sword, Gwen lashed out with her magic, catching the man in the chest and flinging him backward out of the tent, off the boat and a good distance into the open water.