Mud and Magic Ch. 07

"I... I can't hold on much longer," Rhys panted in between licks and kisses, earning a growl and a slap to his butt as a reply. He redoubled his efforts, doing wide circles around her most sensitive nub, only slathering it once every few licks. Celeste's hips came off the bed and slammed against his face. Her mouth released him along with a long, drawn out moan at the same time as he began to spurt uncontrollably, his cock twitching in her fingers.

Celeste bucked against him, seemingly at odds if she should keep his tongue near or not. Rhys planted a few kisses onto her nether lips until he realized that Celeste had stopped thrashing. He looked up.

"So much for 'no sex,'" Elara dryly commented. The beautiful elven druid stood at the foot of the bed, wreathed in one of her see-through robes. Today's was red, almost as red as Rhys' face as he shot into a sitting position. One hand hovered over her crotch and her nipples poked clearly against the sheer fabric but her gaze was stern, bereft of its usual levity.

"How long have you been watching?" Celeste asked, pulling herself upright as well. Thick strands of Rhys' seed had spattered all over her chin, neck and breasts. She seemed much less flustered than Rhys felt.

"From the moment you went crazy on Rhys' lance," Elara said, shaking her head. "At least you didn't go all in."

"I'm fine," Celeste complained. "No aches, nothing. I feel whole."

"Let me be the judge of that," Elara said tersely. "Clean yourself up so I can properly examine you." She pointed at the bathroom door.

"As you wish." Celeste slid out of bed and sashayed into the bathroom and closed the door.

Elara bent down and picked up the covers, tossing the crumpled duvet onto the free bed before sitting down next to Rhys. "You know why I asked you to abstain, at least for the time being?"

"Maybe. She wants to erase the images of Faedal?"

"Yes, exactly. Even if there is nothing wrong with her body, her mind is in a bad place." She reached out and touched Rhys' cheek. "Don't look at me like that. I know you mean well. But sometimes that means doing the unpopular thing."

"And how exactly is that different from what happened at the toll booth?" Rhys asked.

Elara sighed, a hurt look in her eyes. "I thought I had it under control and we both learned that I hadn't. I'm sorry for that. Really." She leaned in and breathed a kiss onto his nose. "Don't you see? My ordeal happened thirty years ago, Rhys. Granted, that's not much by elven standards but that's a whole lot longer than the few days Celeste has been away from...him."

"Don't treat him like a little boy," Celeste said, returning to the bed with a towel around her shoulders. She smelled of herbal soap. "He didn't do anything wrong. If there's anyone to blame, it's me. I needed the release."

"You could have relieved yourself, without dragging Rhys into it," Elara admonished her. "He's more than a mouth you can use."

"Don't you think I know that?" Celeste snapped. "I'm surprised myself that I can even stand the idea of an erect cock anywhere near me. But with Rhys, it felt so... right. And he tried to stop me, several times."

Elara glanced at Rhys, a flicker of pride in her eyes. "And still, I found you with his cock deep in your mouth and him eating you out. I'm gutted." She rose and pushed Celeste onto the empty bed. "Spread your legs for me."

"I told you, I'm fine," Celeste complained as Elara examined her critically. "Seems like the healing spell finally worked. Hey!" Celeste protested. The elven druid probed, squeezed and touched all over Celeste's stomach, crotch and legs.

"Any pain? Signs of discomfort?" Elara asked.

"No. I told you. Twice already," Celeste retorted. "If anything, I'm starving."

"That's a good sign. But just to make sure..." Elara shook out her hands, chanted the syllables of a healing spell and placed her glowing palms on Celeste's body, one on her forehead and the other on her stomach. Waves of leaf-green energy pulsed, enshrouding the prone cleric.

Celeste gasped. "Enough, enough. I've heard you can hurt people with enough Ether."

"That would take some time," Elara replied. "Alright, I hereby release you from the infirmary. Should you feel any kind of uneasiness, pain, discomfort, you come to me, Idunn or Galdor. No playing the hero, understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," Celeste muttered. "Am I allowed to train?"

"Light exercise at first, until we can make sure there are no lingering after-effects of Faedal's corruption. Once I'm certain you're really well, you can have Hagazz beat the snot out of you."

"Great," Celeste said, winding a loincloth around her hips. "What about sex?"

Elara pierced her with another stern gaze. "Given how much respect you had for a simple request of mine, I should damn you to a month of celibacy. The privates are much more delicate than the rest of your body and even though the worst seems to have passed, we can't rule out any internal damage."

"You can't be serious!" Celeste complained. "And how exactly are you going to enforce that?"

"I won't," Elara said, a wolfish grin on her lips. "When you have sex from now on, you'll only do it under my supervision, so I can intervene if anything goes south."

"I don't do it in front of an audience!" Celeste snarled, pulling her robe around herself.

"Suits me just fine," Elara said. "But that's how it is going to be for at least a month. Whenever you think about caressing yourself, sticking anything into that sweet treasure cove of yours or having Rhys treat you, I'll be watching."

"Leave Rhys out of it!" Celeste snapped. "And how will you enforce that anyway?"

"You and I will become inseparable," Elara threatened. "As we have been these past few days anyway." She blew Celeste a loving kiss. "And I have no shame in admitting that I'd love to see you and Rhys together. Under different circumstances, I might have even joined you, but you disobeyed me and a bit of punishment is due. Whenever you even dream of being a naughty girl, you will do it in front of me."

"You can't make me!" If looks could kill, Elara would have turned into a small pile of ash.

"Naturally. So, it will be a peaceful month with no sex for you. I win either way," Elara said, a radiant, smug grin on her lips. "Rhys, aren't you going to dress?"

* * * *

Women, Rhys thought as he ascended the stairs to Thurguz' room. It's probably best if I get out of here for some time, before Celeste and Elara scratch each others' eyes out. He knocked.

"Come in," Thurguz rumbled from inside. Rhys pulled the door open and entered. The room smelled of tea and warm bread. Half of the far-seeing table was covered with a white cloth, with dishes, cups, a bread basket and several bowls and platters atop it. And Thurguz wasn't alone. Sitting at the far-seeing table and sipping tea through his metal straw was Moril. The elf nodded curtly.

"Hungry, lad?" Thurguz asked, indicating one of the chairs.

"You have no idea. Thank you, Master." Rhys sat down and fished for a slice of bread. "You didn't do this all for me, did you?"

"Not really," Moril said softly. "It just so happens the three of us didn't have time for breakfast yet, so cramming it in now seems only prudent."

"Why do I have the feeling I'm being set up?" Thurguz asked, taking the last seat.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, really," Rhys said. "I wanted to talk about Sen and Carver."

"What a coincidence. The beautiful tzenari was on my mind as well," Moril said.

"There is no need for that tone," Thurguz growled.

"Excuse me. Long centuries of habit," Moril said. He took another sip. "Rhys, why don't you start?"

Rhys looked up from his butter-and-cheese sandwich, chewing furiously. He washed the bite down with a bit of tea. "It's a simple question, really. Why isn't she allowed to train with us? She has suffered the same fate as Elara. Wasting her talents as a maid is helping no one."

Thurguz sighed. "Did Celeste put you up to this?" He sounded tired.

"No. I heard you two argue last night, if that's what you mean. I meant to ask you before that before but with the destruction of my village, Mirrin's rescue and all that..." He shrugged.

"You know, I am under no obligation to explain anything," Thurguz said, earning a surprised side glance from Moril. "But maybe Celeste is right. Maybe secrecy is more a detriment than I thought." The half-orc picked up the teapot and gingerly filled his own cup. "I know that Sen could do much more than fold laundry and carry trays with food. The initial tests with Hagazz had shown great promise."

"So why-?"

A warning growl cut Rhys short. "Because she is too unstable. Her human and elven sides are at war to begin with. On top of that she has suffered a trauma few people can hope to recover from. In her current state, tossing her into a battle would only result in her death."

"You sound like it's a done deal," Rhys said, doubt written all over his face.

"He's not wrong, you know?" Moril said. "You might think otherwise, having only spent time with Princess Elara, but we elves are normally not driven by emotion. We do have feelings, of course, but they are tempered by our will. Elara, in no small part thanks to her encounter with Faedal, is not like others of our kind. Her emotions are unbridled, unrestrained. To me, she behaves more like a human than a true child of the Lifegiver."

"And here I thought your reserved nature was thanks to all the metal in your body," Rhys said. "No offense."

Moril afforded him a thin-lipped smile. "None taken. No, I'm the rule to my princess' exception. Now imagine a tzenari - half-blood. When living among elves, their human brashness, their fiery emotion is always spurring them into action and causing friction with their more deliberate kin. But when they are among humans, their peers cause no end of discomfort thanks to their even greater hastiness. I do not envy the tzenari, especially those who have suffered greatly, like Sen."

"So... because she's a half-elf, she's not allowed to fight Carver? How is she different from you, Master? You of all people should understand her, right?"

Thurguz chuckled, a reaction Rhys didn't expect. "No, she's not like me. Orcs are the perfect survivors, able to endure the greatest hardships because they are meaner, tougher and stronger than almost anything in their usual habitat. Mix that with human cunning and inventiveness and you have the ultimate opportunist." He looked a bit smug saying that. "You'd be surprised how many successful orc chieftains are actually half-orcs," he added. "Without my orc blood, I wouldn't have survived my last battle with Carver, and without my human mind, I might never have mastered the art of wizardry. I'm no confused and fragile half-elven girl who had to witness the death of most of her family and friends."

"Be that as it may," Rhys soldiered on, "Sen wants nothing more than to become one of the students herself."

"Out of the question. She'll lose her temper and do something stupid which might kill her or those around her the first time she's out of the tower."

"She's losing her temper inside the tower as well," Rhys remarked. "And I can't really blame her. Having to serve those you deem more worthy than her to become your agents is a special kind of cruelty."

"I made her a maid so she could learn patience. Willpower. Empathy. And if what you tell me is true, she hasn't learned anything." Thurguz sighed heavily.

"Have you told her?" Moril asked quietly.

"Told her? What?" Thurguz asked.

"Thought as much," the elf said. "Master, most respectfully. You need to stop keeping these things to yourself. How is she ever to improve if you never told her that her stint as maid is only temporary, a part of her training?"

"I thought that was obvious!" Thurguz protested.

"Umm, no. Even I could see that it wasn't. She thinks it's a punishment. Master," Rhys added quickly. "Sen thinks she will never be anything more but a maid."

"I... I thought a few years of humility and patience and then...," Thurguz stammered.

"Such a brilliant mind," Moril said. "And yet, so short-sighted sometimes."

"You may no longer be a student but don't push your luck," Thurguz growled. The dishes clattered frighteningly. He turned his attention back to Rhys. "Anything else before I lose my temper?"

"Yes, one more thing. And... maybe I should come back later, when you've calmed down a bit." I don't want my head next to a crater, Rhys thought.

"Out with it already!" Thurguz snapped.

"I... I want to go on a mission. Something which will really hurt Carver. Freeing slaves or the like."

"You do? Why? Because I'm not putting you into enough danger already?" Thurguz growled. "If I remember correctly, you nearly died at the toll booth, had a lethal encounter with a room full of skeletons and only managed not to die after tricking Carver because Borna hauled your spindly ass out of harm's way. And you think you are even close to ready for another mission? Boy, if I were you, I would spend the next two or three months buried inside a library or training with Idunn, maybe even balls-deep in one of the other students, anything but out there until I can fucking fend for myself!"

The last words caused the metal arms and levers above the table to hum discordantly.

Rhys had retreated halfway across the room, hands raised. A humming force shield hovered in front of him and his skin gleamed like polished steel. Despite his defensive posture, his voice was steady.

"Celeste is right, you know? Even Orran needed only ten years to unite the Old Kingdoms. You have been fighting Carver for sixty years now and barely managed to keep him at bay. Reacting to your opponent's moves may be proper thinking in a board game-"

"Be careful what you say next, boy," Thurguz rumbled. His eyes gleamed in a dangerous crimson. "Do you feel confident enough to weigh the lives of your friends against some perceived gain? Do you have what it takes to assess all the possible consequences any one of your moves may have?" Thurguz rose and pulled himself to his full height. His broad back eclipsed the singular window in his room, a giant shadow quivering with barely contained fury.

"No one can assess all the possible outcomes of a singular action," Rhys said. "Not even Sikka, goddess of luck, claims that power. You know as well as I do what happened to my village. Daffyd caused enough of a stir to draw the attention of some spiteful soldiers. Things got out of hand. Could anyone guess that a minor squabble could lead to a whole damn village being razed? Did you anticipate that? Tell me!" Rhys yelled back.

Thurguz stopped, half a stride away from Rhys. "No. I didn't foresee that. And I didn't expect Faedal to take Celeste hostage."

"Carver didn't expect an untrained mageling to ruin his ritual," Rhys pressed on. "Do you really think your resistance, your rebellion - whatever you call it - has escaped Carver's notice? As I understand it, the two of you play a lopsided strategy game. And while you make one move to counter one of his, he makes two entirely different ones."

"Oh, now you know all about his plans?" Thurguz mocked him.

"I never said anything like that," Rhys snarled back. "But the simple fact he chose to attack three locations instead of bundling his forces in one place should give you pause, shouldn't it? We were lucky we could muster enough people to defend every single one but I have seen Hilgrun, Lishaka and Hagazz afterwards - the battle in Lordehome was fierce, almost too fierce for them. And you wanted to abandon our part of the mission once you knew Carver was there. If we had done that, what would have been the point in all of that?"

"You wouldn't have gotten Borna's claws into you, for starters," Thurguz replied.

"I got that anyway, thanks to the trap room under the city," Rhys countered. "And by allowing me to saunter into the ritual chamber, we denied him his Raghbairn. Most of them."

"The lad has a point. Let him try." Moril's voice was almost a whisper.

"I should flay your elven ass alongside his," Thurguz snarled. "You should not encourage foolishness, Moril."

"What is the worst that could happen?" the elf asked, refilling his cup. "You remember the supply camp I told you about? The one close to the ruins of Sunleaf?"

"What about that?" Thurguz snapped. "You said it is hardly important!"

"No, you said it is not important because your current strategy is about denying Carver total control over the four big cities of the Old Kingdoms. I found it very intriguing that Carver would fortify a camp in a region of the elven holds which has been looted thrice over by now."

"Get to the point."

"I would never tell you what to do but if I had leeway to dispatch a few agents, I would task them with destroying that supply base," Moril said slowly. "You would gain several advantages at once."

"Oh? Do tell," Thurguz said.

Moril counted them off his metal fingers, the digits clicking into place. "First, your students would gain much-needed battle experience."

"If they survive the whole damn thing," Thurguz cut in.

"Second, if they could procure any interesting documents, heck, even get a good look at the supplies being stored and used, the information could give you worthwhile insight into Carver's plans."

"I'm not convinced. I could use a scrying spell for the same effect."

"I wasn't done," Moril patiently added. "Finally, the severity and type of Carver's response will tell you volumes about his stakes in the operation. What do you have to lose?"

"Apart from the life of my students?" Thurguz snapped. "I'm not sure if I'm willing-"

"Do we get a say in these matters? At any time?" Rhys turned to face Moril. "Can you act on your own discretion? Or does he stop you in your tracks because he doesn't want to lose you?"

Moril snickered softly. "He can try. Some may heed his advice."

"Moril doesn't," Thurguz growled. "Some others too."

Rhys took a deep breath. "When you first called me up here, we had a little talk. Do you remember? I asked you if I had a choice, if I could leave if I didn't feel like fighting for you. You said 'yes.' By staying here, by accepting the training, I have made my choice. Every time I let Idunn bombard me with her infuriating bean bags, every time Hagazz bruises me, I chose to stay here, to fight for you. Now allow me, allow all of us to decide if we want to risk our lives for you."

Moril softly applauded.

* * * *

Well done Rhys, bloody well done, he thought, sitting at his desk. In front of him, a small mountain of books and maps, along with a heavy bag of gold. His head thumped - Nothing new there - and he had no idea how to manage the task Thurguz had dumped into his lap. With a huge helping of glee, he added.

I have never coordinated any kind of assault, not even on a rival's tree house! And thanks to Moril's prodding - and my own big mouth Thurguz had indeed assigned him to plan and execute the attack on Carver's supply post.

A knock at the door yanked him from his thoughts. "Yes?" he snapped. He heard the door open behind him and soft steps enter the room. "Just so you know, I'm so not in the mood," Rhys grumbled, pulling a large-scale map of the former elven hold of Sunleaf across the table.

"That would make two," Idunn purred. Rhys' head whipped around, causing his neck to creak in protest. He rose from his chair and bowed hurriedly.

"I-... I'm sorry," he sputtered, feeling himself pale and blush in quickfire intervals.

"No idea who you did expect but after that almighty kerfuffle with Thurguz this morning I thought I'd have a look at how I can help you," the dwarven sorceress said. She had a small box tucked under one arm. "And going by the ungodly amount of paperwork on your desk, I think I have a solution."