Majutsu-shi no Chikara Ch. 10

"Do you desire me, seed-mate?" Abhilash glanced down at Damon and then back to Ginga, the human woman withdrawing but unable to quell the animal stink that forewarned the ork. "He may sleep until morning."

"I don't..." she retreated a little more, but only by shuffling along the floor and never taking her eyes from the yellow hunting moons now tracking her every movement. "I'd never... You should go."

"No." Abhilash sniffed, looking away and letting Ginga free of the strange trance that had held her. "This one is stupid. I go where he goes."

With that, she patted Damon's thigh, giving a wistful sigh that his body was so much smaller than her -- and equally admiring the firmness of his leg to her touch. The reek of drying sex tickled her nose, but her lust was sated for the moment. A gurgling noise above her groin caught her attention, and her mouth felt ashen-dry.

"Food?" Abhilash caught Ginga looking at her, again.

"Why are you here?" Ginga creased her brow with confusion, but finding no immediate cause to continue looking at the ork.

"Food. Then talk." Abhilash snarled, fixing Ginga with that same unblinking stare. "And drink."

Perhaps stale bread, a bit of cheese and sausage would occupy her hands and mind. Anything to distract from the blooming heat in her face. Ginga darted out of the house, her bare feet slapping the ground as she tore away toward where a larger cache of food was kept. Abhilash noted several drinking vessels of clay, wood, or leather. On inspection, none contained more than the tangy scent of long-drank wine or the last drops of some grass-water the humans called cha. Her nose wrinkled in distaste of this, but the gnawing hunger in her gut kept her following her nose to a shelf covered with loose-woven cloth covering some strange bread. Pinching a bit of the crumbly loaf between her fingers, Abhilash gave it a taste -- it's smell was faintly sweet and a bit like beer. It was not a proper bread, as had been stolen or bartered many times before. This was heavier and sweeter, with a fatty taste to it. The pungent odor of beer was misleading, she felt, but the malted barley cake disappeared between her lips in handfuls. By the fifth handful, her mouth was growing too dry to swallow. The sixth saw the end of the loaf, sticking like a stone in her throat for several uncomfortable, snarling moments before finally dropping into her stomach with a plunk.

The notes of the warning bell caught Abhilash's attention, and she readied her sword -- tunic and all -- to face the doorway. There was no shouting of alarm, and the calls or whistles that followed were a measured, purposeful thing that did not speak of violence. Hackles still raised, the she-ork donned the poorly-fitted tunic and paced the small house many times before Ginga returned. Damon rolled onto his side, but did not wake.

"I-I have..." breathless, the woman swept into her home and froze with realization that the ork had not only moved but was brandishing her weapon.

"You have food." Abhilash lowered the point of the sword and sank to her knees by the hearth. "Bring it."

Ginga flung the bag into Abhilash's hands but came no closer. Instead, she side-stepped over Damon and kept the male between them as she sat on the floor.

"How come you here?" Ginga frowned as the ork emptied the sack about her knees and rummaged through the small pile. "Why? Why would Damon..."

"Food and drink." Abhilash glanced sidelong at the human, noting the wine-skin hanging at her shoulder and motioning for the liquid.

Again, Ginga tossed her cargo to the ork. Abhilash looked at the wine-skin a moment, rather than choosing to simply bite into it like a bloated fruit. She had seen the like before, in the north, but this was much softer to the touch and smaller by half. Likely, she could drain its contents and still be parched. Removing the stopper, the she-ork took a small taste of the honey-wine. Finding it agreeable, she took a heavy swallow of the stuff and belched.

"Do you not fear poison?" Ginga spat, trying to sound more dangerous than she felt in Abhilash's presence.

"No." Abhilash gave a flat look at the human, her lips turning down slightly. Ginga thought she recognized sorrow on the ork's face.

"Talk." Ginga commanded.

Abhilash nodded, stuffing a link of sausage into her mouth and a strange nut that crunched and cracked between her teeth noisily. Ginga winced at the sound, thinking it might be the ork's teeth breaking on the walnut.

"I am here for him." Abhilash pointed where Damon slept, still snoring and untroubled by the world about him. "I will follow him until I am free or dead."

"And... he let's you?" Ginga wrestled with the idea of an ork following a human for anything other than pillage and rape.

"We shall see." Abhilash stared at her, still chewing the crackling shell before another gulp of mead washed the gritty shards down to her stomach alongside the more savory sausage.

"Have you asked?"

"He must bargain with Kamakshi." Abhilash shook her head. Seeing the lack of comprehension on the human's face, the ork gave a sigh before breaking a large bit of cheese from the small wheel and tucking the wax and curdled milk into her mouth, to speak around it.

"Kamakshi offered him a bargain for my freedom from her curse." Abhilash explained, her hands making very direct pointing motions unlike the wasteful human gestures common for such things.

"Your bloodline is cursed?" It was difficult to feel pity on that score.

"No, Kamakshi cursed me." Abhilash took another drink, enjoying the way the cheese seemed to melt to the touch of the alcohol. "But his magic is stronger. He made... He made it known. If he cannot break my curse, then I will die his slave."

"Why didn't he just kill you, then?" Ginga scowled, letting her anger smolder near the surface at last.

Abhilash stared at her a long moment.

"Why, seed-mate?" she asked in return, then took another drink without letting Ginga slip from her sight.

"Why does he care about some bastard half-breed?" Ginga demanded, her voice climbing several rungs in her chest to match her wrath.

"Hmph. Good question, Ginga." Abhilash did not smile, did not sneer, and kept her voice flat. "Ask him."

She nearly expected Damon to be looking up at her, transformed into some horrid nightmare creature of serpents or an ogre. Ginga leapt backward and looked down, but Damon remained as he was -- unmoved and asleep.

"You should get more food." Abhilash took a deep breath. "He will need much food for whatever road waits for him."

"There's to be a feast." Ginga quieted some, deflecting the thought that Damon would have to leave South-wold. "There will be plenty of food."

"Hate me if you want." Abhilash shrugged. "Follow him and you will be half his shadow."

Ginga scowled again, which caused Abhilash to consider the idea further before draining the wine-skin.

"Less than half." and she flexed an arm in demonstration of her physical prowess over Ginga, lips curling back from her teeth.

"I'll fetch you both, when Akuji summons you." Ginga stepped over Damon and gave her back to the ork as she left, hand on her dagger.

Watching Ginga quit this battlefield, Abhilash felt the human not quite as stupid as the sorcerer... she wondered if the human woman was as skilled in battle as she had been in choosing a mate. Perhaps her mate choice had been luck, as Damon had not known he was a sorcerer until in Kamakshi's bed. Whatever the truth of it, the ork gave a bored huff and slouched along the floor to sit beside Damon. Munching loudly on the remaining nuts and seeds, she grumbled to herself when her mouth dried with thirst again. Clearing her throat several times did not cause Damon to stir, just as he had not moved when she and Ginga spoke -- Ginga near to shouting.

Rolling her eyes with impatience, she jabbed at Damon's shoulder with a curled knuckle. The tell-tale buzzing behind her eyes was an encouraging sign and Damon stirred awake at last.

"You sleep much." Abhilash chided, but did not allow Damon to sit up and scrub the sleep from his face before she demanded, "where is more wine?"

He mumbled and grumbled, his thoughts running into the unyielding wall of those yellow-gray eyes before he at last gave Abhilash his full attention.

"There's a small cask, just there." Damon pointed to one of the beds, Abhilash had thought the smell from spilled wine or worse. "It's Emarari Tanner's private supply of spirits."

"Ginga's sire?" Abhilash did not wait for Damon's acknowledgment, instead laying toward the bed and fishing-about with one arm to draw the potbellied miniature barrel from beneath the bed. "If he misses this, may he die unfulfilled."

"Orks would have every foe die unfulfilled." Damon scoffed, sitting up and gingerly cradling his head. "Is there water?"

"Mph." the ork shook her head and gripped the top of the barrel. "You would not?"

With a grunt and shriek of splintering wood, the top of the barrel broke free -- spilling a goodly portion of the stinging spirits onto the she-ork, soaking into her tunic and filling her nose with the pleasant burn of it. Eyes widening with approval, Abhilash gave a chuckle and a sound Damon took to be a measure of her eagerness. She tipped the little keg up to her lips and slurped messily, more amber liquid splashing around her tusks and down the sides of her jaw, along her neck, and into the valley between her breasts. Though the borrowed tunic covered her breasts, it offered little to muffle those great orbs, and less to hide her sex where the tunic had ridden-up over her thighs when she sat. A trace of spirits caught light as it dripped down her belly and over her sex. Coughing, Damon forced himself to look away and cast his gaze about the Tanner's home, hoping for some reserve of water or the morning's milk to slake his thirst. Spying a kettle tucked beneath a small stack of worked leather, he lurched unsteady to his feet and checked its contents.

"Cha, then." Damon was relieved, not wanting to follow Abhilash's example of pillaging Emarari's stores of liquor.

"What is that?" Abhilash belched, setting the barrel in the corral of her loosely crossed legs and dragging her fabric-wrapped arm over her mouth. "It smelled of nothing."

"Water." Damon gave another pointless human gesture before setting the kettle on a small iron rack in the hearth. "For cha."

"Drink this." Abhilash lifted the stolen, broken vessel in offering. "It is strong."

"Thank you, ser Abhilash." Damon did not even look over to her, which caused Abhilash to stir restlessly -- she did not care for him ignoring her, and now he seemed aware of it. "I shall enjoy cha, instead. I'd rather keep my wits, tonight."

"You fear your kinfolk?" Abhilash gave him a puzzled raising of one brow. "Would they kill you so soon after casting you out?"

"They didn't cast me out." Damon stoked the coals in the hearth, blowing gently to coax a flame into a bit of kindling poised in his hand just above the coals.

"You will leave. Akuji made it clear his own bloodline is not welcome." Abhilash took a mighty swallow of the spirits and burped again. "Exile is exile."

"Yes." Damon watched the flame grow along the kindling and set the firewood beneath the iron rack holding the kettle. "But I am not welcomed home, and I have made clear my intent to leave."

"Stupid human word-dancing." Abhilash grunted in disgust. "Just fight him for leadership of your tribe and be done with it. I do not think he would want to beat you."

"And where would that leave you, Abhilash?" Damon looked over at her, and she felt a strange coldness turning inside the warmth the liquor had made in her gut. "On the border of Inkar's shadow, surrounded by humans that would have you dead, and carrying my child in your belly?"

"At last, you say something not stupid." Abhilash narrowed her eyes at him and growled her agreement. "So, you will leave."

"I cannot stay. My life is an ill omen, now." Damon sighed heavily, running his hand across the tangled knots of his barely braided hair. "But there's the other matter of Kamakshi."

"I could kill her." Abhilash offered, and though she would if he commanded her, she knew that was not his desire.

"I have a better use for her, here." Damon watched the ork's surprised confusion. "You think that foolish, yes?"

"Stupid and foolish." she nodded, while Damon hefted the kettle and poured water into a small wooden cup.

"But I think..." Damon put a few dried leaves into the water, then set the kettle back on the workbench, shoving the piled leather and furs aside to make room. "I think Inkar will see the wisdom of it."

"You think she would attack? She said she would honor the bargain." Abhilash shook her head. "She has many whelps coming, and the..."

Now the faint twist of a smile on his lips made sense. He knew Inkar would need more plunder or more trade for a sea of whelps born in winter. The nearest settlement Inkar had sworn to protect. What better way than to simply occupy it and seize what she needed? And what creature better disposed to prevent that than the exiled shaman? He could weigh his hope against the continued auspices of the nymph's presence -- but Kamakshi had ruled the Sidero. The nymph might stop them, or kill them outright... the fae was an unknown thing. Kamakshi, for all her villainy, was known.

"Again, you are not stupid." Abhilash licked her lips, feeling the tingling warmth of alcohol spreading from her stomach.

Damon sipped at the barely warm cha, savoring the faint flavor. It took effort to not down the liquid as fast as his hand could pour.

"She is ready to make a bargain for your freedom. Then, there is South-wold to consider." Damon slowly finished this cup of cha before pouring more water over the leaves. "Even the nymph, if she intends to stay. And the Tower... Renks Cairn."

"The big human city, to the north?" Abhilash shrugged, less familiar with that place or its machinations. "What of it?"

"Matta feared them." Damon mused over the cha, sipping this cup more quickly than the first and filling a last half-cup. "Hm. He feared they would come -- I must assume that will be true, if there is no proof of his obedience or death."

"Maybe they killed him?" Abhilash recalled the muttering among the Sidero, the last report of the death of the human shaman. "If his fear was not sickness, then maybe their blade killed him."

"Or both sickness and an assassin. The nymph also..." Damon pouted into his cup, swirling the liquid and leaves. "She may know something that could be useful. If she would agree to stay, then South-wold could survive."

"A strange tribe, Damon." Abhilash snorted, shaking her head in disbelief. "Orks, humans, and half-breeds -- all swept together by the dread betrayer and a sex goddess?"

"She's not a goddess. The nymph are numbered among the fae." Damon shrugged. "So the stories go."

"Fae, goddess... do you know many with her power?" Abhilash grunted dismissively. "Sidero was counted among the gods in the north, in his time."

"Then are all wizards gods?" Damon met her gaze for a moment, wondering at the shrouded look she gave him that was not quite hunger. "And must all gods die, in there time?"

"Even Sidero died." Abhilash nodded, curbing a fit of awe at the human. "Can there be a thing that begins but does not end?"

"Don't tell that to any of the clergy." Damon laughed, his lips open in genuine amusement. "Who knows what gods would smite us for such heresy?"

"So?" Abhilash narrowed her eyes at him again, leaning forward to emphasize her point with a thrusting finger. "If it can die, I will kill it. When I am free..."

"Yes, I'll die unfulfilled, when you are free." Damon smiled, but Abhilash gravely nodded.

There sat a heavy silence for long moments, the sun gliding its way through the heavens toward the western horizon. Damon took silent repast with what scraps remained of Ginga's scrounged gifts, careful to avoid the edge of Billsby's sword as he picked up what looked least despoiled from being dumped onto the pelt Abhilash was carelessly soaking with spirits and rocking about on her naked rump.

"Want to fuck." Abhilash belched again, setting the near-empty cask to one side and lurching drunkenly toward Damon. "Are you ready?"

"No." Damon winced, grimacing at the stink of booze in her breath and wafting in her sweat. "What would convince Kamakshi to offer herself in service to South-wold?"

"Y-," and Abhilash let out a loud, long belch that seared Damon's nostrils and left his face feeling oily before she hiccuped and continued as though nothing had happened, "-ou think you can best the great Kamakshi?"

"I think you can." Damon narrowed his eyes at her and growled, mimicking a behavior she had shown many times that he took to mean approval or agreement.

"Can you make a larger cock?" Abhilash leered at him, seeming to lose the track of Damon's intended conversation.

"I... what? No, I don't think so." He shook his head, thinking the ork too drunk to be much use and resigning himself to giving this more thought without help from Abhilash.

"It would...urp." she belched again, swaying and slurring as she stared Damon in both eyes. "...make it easier, if you could."

"Easier to what?" Damon looked up, staring through the roof and sighing in exasperation.

"Desire you." Abhilash sprang at him and gripped his head in both hands, filling his nose and mouth with the rank sting of spirits mixed with whatever rancid milk -- perhaps a cheese -- that clung to her breath as she exhaled the words into his face. "Easier to let you take, easier to... be beaten by you."

It was almost enough to make him nauseous, but Damon lost his balance and found Abhilash supporting him effortlessly in her clawed hands. She was staring at his eyes, then at his mouth, then his eyes again. Her face became flush, a reddening that gave her a purplish hue reminiscent of her lips. The green-brown skin darkened at her cheeks, and her lips pursed between her tusks. Her tongue licked outward, grazing his mouth.

"You..." she sighed, closing her eyes tightly and growling drunkenly. "You do not know how much your bargain has changed Kamakshi... or her daughters."

"Do you?" Damon whispered back at her, finding his balance though unable to break from her grasp.

"No." she opened her eyes and looked at him, letting him slip away from her as she sank backward and looked down at the floor. "I do not want to know."

"What do you suggest?"

"Ask what she will give." Abhilash shuddered, then shook herself as if to shake-off water. "Inkar called her your slave. It may be true. It may be what she wants."

"She'll want me to..." Damon hesitated, disturbed by how eager he felt of the notion of Kamakshi's stomach swelling with his unborn.

"Be sure of that." Abhilash barked a laugh. "If nothing else, she will want your seed."

...

At sunset, Akuji bade Ginga to bring their "guests" forth to begin the celebration. Before she reached her father's house, children were already jostling one another in a queue to get their portions of meat or porridge. The young of South-wold were first fed during festivals and last most other meals. Small cups of watered wine or weak beer were poured, and those who fancied themselves minstrels began to make halfhearted attempts at merrymaking song. As the adults and elders (what few elders remained) took their supper, the raucous clamor the children were making was nigh deafening.

Ginga had dragged her feet, dreading the next moment she would see the she-ork. She dreaded that, and knowing that she would have to travel with the ork once Damon departed South-wold. Anything else she refused to consider, for now, as acknowledging it seemed to make it more real and more unholy with each moment. By the light of bonfire and torch, she was silhouetted through the door into the gloom of her home.