Herbs and Alchemy Ch. 09

One hand landed next to her head, the other hooked under her arm and captured her collarbone, fitting her onto him. She cried out in joy and pain. He pulled out, empty, then pure bliss as he drove past her singing pleasure point, pain as he bottomed out, again, it all blurring into a searing, slow blast of bright, sparking magic and gratification.

As climax took her she was vaguely aware of his tusks penetrating her shoulder, one leg moving past her hip, he fitted her onto him, stood, leaned with her impaled on her, put his back against the tent post, he lifted and speared her like she was a mere doll, she grabbed his arms, her head lollng against his chest, as she whimpered and cried out as her overtaxed nerves continued to fire a continuous stream of lightning through her body. His hips twitched and he sunk deep into her, snarling around her shoulder. She felt his cock throb, he pulled her down, fingers bruising her hip and shoulder as he shuddered with release, hot seed searing her insides.

His corona snapped open inside her, its edges hooking into her, sending another wave through her twitching body. "Oh Goddess!" She cried as her core clutched at him.

The rest of his body relaxed against the tent pole, his jaws released her and he licked the two holes he'd made. I love you. You're beautiful and cruel and MINE. You will never have to drink from me.

"What if I want to drink from you?" She said aloud.

"I would not have you mindless." He growled. She felt his magic healing her shoulder like warm sunlight.

We can talk mind to mind. Perhaps Kurdoz was right.

"Perhaps." Tharo sank to the ground and nuzzled her neck. She felt his staff disengage and soften. She slid off of him and between his legs, enjoying the feel of his chest against her cheek.

Jayla replayed every time they'd had a moment of telepathy, there still wasn't proof, really.

Tharo. Whisper my last name in my ear. Tell me this is real.

He was still for almost too long, then his head bent, his tongue flicked the side of her ear, "Jayla Thorntrail." He rasped, She shivered, Goddess the way he said it called to her soul, "This is real."

"Luthia what have I got into." She said distantly.

They sat in afterglow for a bit, Jayla brushed the dirt off of her hands and knees and retrieved her clothing, then attacked the rest of the food and ale. Tharo joined her, leisurely popping pieces of meat into his mouth and watching her with amusement.

A tap on the outside of the tent. "You done in there?" The Shaman.

"For now." Replied Tharo.

They came in and nodded, "Impressive. So Luthia's toll is true. I could feel the power from outside."

Jayla blushed. "Mind your business." She growled.

The Shaman sat cross-legged on the dirt. "I have plan for peace."

Tharo smiled, "I have things to help."

The Shaman cast several spells, then spoke, "New lord must die. Good man, farmer, take over."

"That's Weston's territory." Said Jayla.

"Lord tent, third one from here. Human guard only. Three, two in front, one in back. I make magic go away, no warning."

Tharo shook his head, "We can't. Too obvious. Next battle, take him out with Eastern Arrow. You know how to be invisible?"

The Shaman thought for a moment, "Only work if your captain come too, then East and West can talk. Lord no talk, only fight and take land."

"I feel like there are a lot of moving parts to this." Growled Jayla.

"Need grazers. Can call grazers?"

"I'm not a druid." Tharo shrugged.

"I know Druid. Maoor."

"Maoor is here?! Hell, Maoor is STILL ALIVE?!" Tharo was surprised.

The Shaman closed their eyes for a minute, humming. "Not here. Will be two days. Maoor half elf, live forever."

"How do you know Maoor?" Tharo asked.

The Shaman looked at him and gave a perfectly lucid half smile, "She's my mother."

They sat long enough for the shock of that to wear off. Jayla spoke, "We need to get word to Weston."

"Do you have a familiar?" Tharo asked.

The Shaman got up and opened the tent flap, a hawk flew in.

Jayla went and dug through the clothing, found a piece she could tear off.

Tharo bit the side of his hand finger and let blood pool into his palm. Jayla put out her hand to the hawk, "Feather, please." As if it were a perfectly normal request.

The bird shook itself and a single feather disengaged from its tail.

"Thank you." She bit the tip off and let the blood soak into the shaft, then wrote the location and likely time of the next skirmish (dawn the next day) and how to identify the Lord. She used street urchin scratch, she knew Weston would understand it, but anyone else would have a hard time translating if it were intercepted. The Shaman tied the cloth to the bird's leg.

Jayla suggested "Big white healer tent on the other side of the river, tall bald human."

"Why Sunhill?" Tharo asked.

"He won't try to kill the bird and Weston is hard to identify in a crowd."

The Shaman spoke to the bird and lifted up the bottom of the side of the tent and it hopped out. "I hope this works."

"I die if it does not." Said the Shaman.

______________________________________