Lovers' Veil

The urisk appeared just as she had described them to Leofrick on their journey to the Seafeather Islands. She felt him draw back at the sight of it and tightened her grip on his hand in silent warning to be calm and still.

"Stay where you are," she whispered. "I promise you that we have nothing to fear from them. Trust me when I say that they're far more afraid of you than you are of them. Move your hand well clear of your sword."

He did so, slowly holding up both hands, showing the faerie that one hand was empty and the other was entwined lovingly with one of Rhyannon's.

The urisk waddled toward them, taking his time. Gradually, others slid from concealment to join the first. When the first one stopped, gazing at them with large, liquid dark eyes, the others stopped, too, gathered behind him.

Rhyannon waited several moments before speaking softly, keeping her voice calm and mild, saying, "My name is Princess Rhyannon Ensorcelledlight. The man sitting with me is human. He crossed the Veil to be with me. His name is Prince Leofrick Wykeham. He is a good, honest, honorable man. He has risked his life over and again during the past several days to rescue me and keep me safe. I love him with all my heart and know that he feels the same way about me."

She went on, detailing everything for the urisks, from her arranged marriage to the changling, Leurre, to her first startling encounter with Leofrick, through his finding a way to cross the Veil to find her and the series of events afterward leading up to their journey to the Seafeather Islands.

"As you can see," she concluded after a so long a time speaking that her throat felt dry, "we have not come to you to harm you. Quite the opposite. We have come to you for aid. We don't know where else to turn and we need your help."

The lead urisk stared silently for a time before raising a four-fingered hand that was covered in an odd mix of shaggy feathers and hair. Turning, he waddled its way back to those gathered behind him.

Rhyannon stood, drawing Leofrick up with her. "We've been invited to stay," she told him quietly.

Picking up their supply packs, they followed the urisk.

"Be very careful with your sword, my love," she said.

"I will. But I'm not letting it out of my sight." His voice was tight, as if he expected her to argue. "It's our only real weapon against the thing tracking us."

She nodded, saying, "I know. Just take care with it."

They were led to a small, cramped structure built of rough-hewn logs. None of the urisks got too close and all kept a wary eye on both Leofrick and his sword. Rhyannon ushered Leofrick into the dwelling and turned to face their hosts.

"Remember," she said, "we are tracked by a Ve'reor. Our being here puts you all in grave danger. Because of that, we'll not stay long. We'll rest for a couple of days and then be off if you'll be so kind as to give us a large enough boat to allow us to reach Snowheath. We'll trade you the boat we came in on for it, along with my promise of further compensation if I'm ever in a position to give it."

The lead urisk made an odd gesture that mixed a shrug and a hand wave and indicated that she should join Leofrick inside. She nodded and turned away, following Leofrick into the shelter.

Inside, it was a solitary, cramped room. Most of the space was taken up by a single bed. Leofrick stood waiting for her, holding his sword belt and scabbard in hand. She saw him relax visibly when she entered and he leaned the sword against the wall, as far from the bed as possible. Placing the supply packs beside it, he took her in his arms and lay her gently on the bed and eased down beside her, holding her.

She felt his body responding to her nearness. Grinning, she slid a hand into his shirt to caress his broad chest, toying with the hair there.

"Why don't they speak," he asked, voice soft.

"Their language is unique to them and their peculiar duckbilled mouths," she said. "I don't know of any other race capable of truly speaking their language. Most can't even come close. They use sign language to communicate with other races."

"How long do you think we'll be safe here?" His voice was still soft, but was taking on an even huskier tone as desire took a stronger hold on him in spite of his attempts at conversing about other things.

She smiled at him, shifting position to rub her leg against his groin as she said, "I told them we'd only stay for a couple of days, to rest, then be on our way. They're going to accept the boat we brought here as trade for something larger that'll enable us to sail all the way to Snowheath. There's no telling, really, how long it'll take Father and Leurre to not only figure out where we've gone, but get the hunting party and the Ve'reor on a ship and come after us. I doubt it'll take too long, though, and I'd rather we were long gone by the time they get there."

"We'd better make the most of this quiet time while we have it, then, hadn't we?" he whispered just before pressing his lips to hers.

"Yes," she answered playfully when he broke the kiss. "We'd better get some sleep while we can." She yawned. It began as a fake but ended up being all too real a moment later.

His hands rubbed across her breasts, sending a shiver of pleasure through her. "Sleep wasn't what I had in mind." His voice was thick with the promise of pleasure when he said the words.

Gently, he rolled her onto her back and began undressing her. Once she was nude, he removed his own clothing, tossing the wad of garments aside carelessly.

Returning his hands to her chest, he kneaded her bare breasts tenderly. His other hand roamed down her body to her pubis, exploring her with his fingers. She gasped with pleasure, feeling herself growing damp at his touch.

After a few minutes, he changed positions, easing her legs apart and taking his place between them. Lifting her up easily, he slid his long, hard shaft into her, filling her. She sighed at the feeling as he drew back slowly, then thrust forward a bit faster.

Reaching up, she raked her fingernails over his chest. He shuddered with delight as her nails went over his nipples.

"Hard and fast, my love," she whispered to him.

Locking their gazes, he replied, "Anything you like, my love."

His hips worked in short, fast motions, barely drawing back before shoving deeply into her once more. She climaxed within moments, screaming his name, gripping him with her love canal, milking him with her body until he exploded inside of her. His moans mingled with her screams.

Spent, he collapsed on top of her, holding her gently until they both drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 29

Prince Leofrick Wykeham moaned, the low sound a deep-throated testament of the sheer ecstasy he felt. Rhyannon sat atop him, his erect cock snuggled deep inside the tight, burning wetness of her love canal. His hands rode on her slim hips as she moved them forward and backward tirelessly in short, rapid motions. Their gazes were locked together, their short, heavy breathing in nearly perfect sync.

When he climaxed, his load of molten seed bursting free of his shaft, filling her with his offering, she went over the edge to be caught in the grip of her own orgasm. Their bodies still working in tandem, they reached the pinnacle of their lovemaking together.

Spent, Rhyannon lay forward, her petite breasts pressing against his chest. He relished the feel of her hot flesh against his own, her hard nipples prodding him. Still erect, he carefully kept his manhood firmly inside her as he wrapped her in his arms, hugging her against him.

She kissed him, her lips and tongue exploring his mouth. He returned the kiss, their tongues dueling, sliding from his mouth, to hers and back.

Finally, she shifted positions and his cock slid from her. He saw the momentary flash of disappointment that flickered over her youthful features and was on the verge of repositioning her in order to enter her again when she sighed blissfully and cuddled against him once more.

If she's content...

Firmly erect still, he ignored his own wants and simply held her, stroking her long golden hair and the smooth, warm skin of her back.

I love this woman. My thanks to whichever deity or deities brought us together.

He was beginning to doze when she stirred again, propping herself up to look into his eyes. When she spoke, her voice was very soft and held a distinct note of disillusionment.

"We really should be moving on, my love. We've lingered here far too long, nearly a week."

He nodded, awkward in his current position, saying, "The urisks insisted, wanting to give us time to rest before the journey to Snowheath."

"We should have insisted in return that we stick to our original plan," she told him. "They've moved us to a different island each day, trying to confuse the trail the feel of my magick is leaving. But we're still in the island chain. We should have been back out on the open sea days ago." She smiled warmly, adding, "And it isn't even as if we've gotten much rest."

Squeezing her gently, he said, "Some things are more important than sleep at times. And making love to the woman I'm going to spend the rest of my life with is one of them. Especially when there's been so little time for it of late."

"I love you," she whispered.

"I love you, too," he told her softly.

She sighed, relaxing, laying flat atop him again. "It's late enough today that I don't think there's really any point to setting out for Snowheath. But we need to go soon. Very soon."

"First thing in the morning," he promised. "We'll rest tonight and set out for Snowheath at first light in the morning."

"Alright. We need to let the urisks know so they can have a boat provisioned for us."

She shifted, trying to slide off of him, preparing to get off their bed. Playfully, he held onto her, keeping her with him.

"We can tell them later," he said, voice low, seductive.

She regarded him in silence for a moment before smiling and saying, "Yes. We can." She relaxed atop him again, allowing him to hold her, stroking his side lightly with her fingernails. Before long her breathing evened out and he realized that she was asleep.

Still not fully recovered from the troll attack, are you, my love?

Holding her, he closed his eyes and inhaled the fresh scent of her skin and hair. He felt the softness of her smooth, supple skin. For all their time together, the naturally hairless flesh of her body was still a novelty to him and he loved it.

He wasn't even aware that he was dozing himself until a series of peculiar honking sounds woke him with a start. Several urisks stood in their room, bills open, making the bizarre noises and gesturing wildly with their hands. The mixture of scruffy feathers and hair on their arms and hands whipped in a frenzy with their movements. Beyond them, he could see the night sky through the open doorway.

Still lying on top of him, Rhyannon woke. "What's going on?" she asked, voice groggy. A moment later she zeroed in on the urisks and tensed. "Beloved, get up! We've got to go! Now!"

She rolled off of him and the bed, snatching up their clothing from the floor, not bothering to try and dress.

"What is it?" he asked, rising with her, body stiff from lying in the same position for so long a time.

Before she could answer, the sounds of odd honking screams came from outside. They were mingled with loud hisses and more discernable cries of victory. In the middle of it all, far louder than anything else, came an undulating baying that chilled Leofrick to his core, freezing him in place.

"The Ve'reor!" gasped Rhyannon. Her expression was stricken. Tears began flowing down her cheeks the moment she heard the unnerving cry.

Leofrick turned aside, scooping up his scabbard, drawing his blade, just as several Attorcroppes rushed in. They cut down the urisks before they had even completely cleared the door, coming at Leofrick and Rhyannon with gore-stained crystal blades.

"Rhyannon, stay back!" Leofrick bellowed, wading into the fray.

He whipped his sword around, the iron blade shattering one crystal sword and removing the head of one attacker. A flurry of blocks and brief attacks left the other Attorcroppes dead. Even the slightest wound from the iron blade was lethal to them.

"Come on!" Careful to keep the sword away from her, he reached for Rhyannon.

She took his hand and he rushed the open doorway, nearly dragging her with him. When a dark shape rose up, blocking the exit, he stopped and she ran into him from behind, a small shriek escaping her lips.

"Leurre!" she said, the single word heavy with both terror and hatred.

Leofrick swung his sword, bellowing, trying to cut down the changeling. Leurre's cloaked body morphed, twisting in ways that should have been impossible, avoiding the strike. At the same time, he reached by Leofrick to grab Rhyannon and yank her to him. She screamed, reaching for Leofrick as he bellowed her name.

Leurre held her before him as a shield, smirking at Leofrick. The sickly bruise-purple light of the changeling's eyes gleamed coldly from sunken hollows in the gray flesh of his face. Leurre's thin, nearly lipless mouth quirked in a cruel smile.

"She's mine, human filth," the changeling croaked out. "Try to strike at me and you'll only kill her."

"I'd rather die than be with you!" Rhyannon shrieked, fighting the changeling's grip on her.

He shook her viciously and snarled, "Quiet! Your father promised you to me. He is King and his promise makes you mine!"

The changeling retreated, hauling Rhyannon with him, clearing the doorway. Before Leofrick could pursue, several more Attorcroppes crowded forward, swords dripping blood from slaughtered urisks.

"Kill him!" Leurre shouted at the walking snakes and forced Rhyannon toward the docks as she screamed for Leofrick and fought every step of the way.

As Leofrick engaged the fresh batch of Attorcroppes, he cast brief glances after Rhyannon.

Can't let him get her aboard a boat! If he does that, I'll never catch him!

Cutting down yet another Attorcroppe, he risked another quick look and saw a brawny man not much taller than Rhyannon standing on the wooden planking. He had blonde-white hair and a matching beard. His well-sculpted form was clothed only in what appeared to be a single long piece of diaphanous purple silk. The garment did nothing to hide his perfect physique or large manhood.

"Father!" Rhyannon screamed as she was forced closer to the docks. "Father! Help me! Don't let this happen! Please! Order them to stop, please! Don't let them hurt Leofrick! I love him! Father, please!"

The King, Leofrick realized. Rhyannon's father, the one at the core of all trouble that has befallen us. No, the changeling is the true source of all this.

Still, seeing him ignited Leofrick's fury to new heights. Bellowing, he slashed his way through the final few of the attacking Attorcroppes and raced after Leurre.

Part of his mind was dimly aware of a few cuts he had received from the exquisitely sharp crystal blades carried by the Attorcroppes. Part of his mind registered another spine chilling bay from the Ve'reor. But he ignored everything but the sight of the woman he loved being forcibly hauled to the docks by the monster she had tried so hard to escape, the creature she would rather die than wed, while her father stood calmly, watching, making no move whatsoever to come to his daughter's rescue.

Rhyannon was flung into a boat crewed by elves. Several of the elves grabbed her, holding her tightly as she fought them, while others assisted Leurre and King Oakenmace Ensorcelledlight back aboard.

"Leofrick!" Rhyannon screamed, her voice filled with desperate terror.

"I'm coming!" he called back, racing forward.

He dodged signal fires that were spaced apart close to the docks. He cut down Attorcroppes as they rose up before him and came at him from both sides and behind without pausing. Their shrieks as his iron blade scythed through their repulsive snake bodies only just registered in his mind through his fury and the terror that nearly overwhelmed him at the thought of losing Rhyannon.

Just as he reached the dock, elves cast off the mooring lines and shoved off. While King Oakenmace stood to one side, calming observing, Leurre bellowed at the elves to hurry and Rhyannon thrashed and fought her captors, screaming for Leofrick.

He reached the edge of the dock and leapt, not thinking about what he was doing. The boat was too far out already and he landed in the water with a heavy splash. Instantly, the mournful dirge of the merfolk took on a sharper, hopeful quality and he heard more splashing as they came at him.

Ignoring the merfolk, struggling to swim and hold his sword at the same time, he fought to reach the boat. Gradually, he noticed other boats bobbing in place, moored to the docks.

This explains why there are so many of them. They must have a larger ship anchored not too far out.

As he neared his goal, the first of the merfolk arrived, reaching for him.

Leofrick stopped swimming and treaded water, lashing out with his blade, sending arcs of seawater through the air, trailing from its tip. Dark blood joined the droplets of water and merfolk keened in agony, retreating from the weapon.

Surging forward, Leofrick reached the boat and shot up, gripping the side. Leurre was there in an instant, screeching at him in an incoherent tongue, hammering at his hands, trying to knock him lose and fully back into the water. The changeling was wary, however, of the iron sword. Leofrick took advantage of the other's caution to haul himself aboard, forcing Leurre away, the iron blade warding against him. When the changeling, in his fury, finally did reach for him, Leofrick hacked deeply into the wiry gray arm beneath the cloak. Leurre screamed, backpedaling, and nearly fell from the boat.

"Kill him!" the changeling shrieked. "Release the Ve'reor!"

"No!" Rhyannon screamed.

Leofrick was instantly aware of something he, in his determination to reach the boat, hadn't noticed before. The Ve'reor hunkered in the stern, the three chains still attached to its collar. Each chain was held by an elf. The elves struggled against the pull of the nightmare creature as they tried to hold it back. At Leurr's order, all three elves released their chains as one. The Ve'reor shot forward, muzzle gaping, knocking one elf overboard. He screamed as he was set upon by merfolk.

Leofrick ducked and tried to bring up his sword. He felt the blade slice into the Ve'reor at the same moment he felt the thing's claws rip deeply into his bare shoulder as it went by. He heard a splash and turned quickly, blood already flowing down his arm and starting to drip from his hand onto the desk of the boat.

The Ve'reor was in the water, having overshot the bounds of the boat in its eagerness to get to Leofrick. Dark blood from a gash left by the sword was staining the dark water around the creature as it struggled to swim back to the boat. Its gimlet eyes burned with bloodlust. Merfolk closed in on it, but they moved cautiously, circling warily.

Knowing that the Ve'reor was out of the fight for the moment at least, Leofrick whirled back to face Leurre, who was screaming at the frozen elves to kill Leofrick. The changeling clutched at his wounded arm, keeping as far from Leofrick as the confined space would allow.

Rhyannon yanked herself free of the elves holding her and threw herself at Leofrick, carefully avoided his sword arm.

He slid his free arm around her waist, saying, "Watch the Ve'reor for me."

Releasing her, keeping himself between Rhyannon and Leurre and the elves, yet careful not to let Rhyannon get between himself and the Ve'reor as it paddled for the boat, he faced down the changeling. Lifting his blade, he aimed the tip of the weapon at Leurre's neck.