Orin The Great Ch. 07

Deceivers Among Us

Due to Orin's humble beginnings, he had never been wealthy, nor could he imagine how opulent the lifestyle of a person of noble lineage could be. This privileged status soon became apparent to him, after the last of the ogres were hunted down. Lady Oryala sent a messenger to her kingdom, a full four days' ride away. Following another four days, there appeared an entourage of wagons to dismantle her kingdom's section of the camp, and also a covered, extravagant carriage reserved exclusively for the Lady. Oryala was set to leave at once, while her subordinates would come much later, after all the tents and gear were loaded up. The men from Labacum and Grauxall were also preparing for a timely departing.

Lady Oryala invited Orin and Sundri to ride with her, but not Bartram or Miriam. Sundri was eager to board the lavish carriage, while Orin was put out, as he did not want to leave his friends behind. It was only after the archer privately encouraged Orin to go that the young man finally relented. And so, he went into the carriage with the two older women. When the wheels began to roll the vehicle away, Orin was seen staring out the window at the two adventurers he was leaving behind.

Bartram thought it would be easy, as all the men from Castra Devana had to do was pack up and load everything onto wagons with open beds. This turned out to be more complicated than he at first assumed, as the rumor went through the camp that the men from Grauxall were stealing whatever they could get their hands on from the others. As a result, the men from the other kingdoms were still putting up a night's watch, despite that they had no enemies to fear from outside the camp.

On the second night after Orin and Sundri's departure, Miriam joined him. "I wonder what Orin is up to at this moment? I can just imagine that stupid Lady and Sundri jumping his bones in some wayside inn."

"Are you still jealous, girl?" Bartram laughed.

"Not jealous, just curious."

"You know what they say. Curiosity killed the cat and all that!"

Miriam frowned. "Tell me true. Did Lady Oryala take Orin with her because she intends to cockle him?"

"Yes." Bartram admitted. "Orin told me so with his own mouth, just a few days ago when we went to hunt squirrels and gophers."

"I still think Orin would be a better fit with a girl his age."

"Oh, really? A girl like you?"

"Why not? Better than that old hag."

"Oh, come now, Miriam. Sundri is a wonderful older woman."

"Why, because she never says no? You say open your legs, Sundri, and she does it all the time. You would think a woman her age would get tired of getting cockled, but no, that never happens!"

"Let it go, Miriam." Bartram advised. "Sundri is not your enemy. If you want Orin so badly, the next time you see him, walk up to him and tell him."

"It isn't that easy for me."

"You said you liked him? Why is it not easy?"

"Because... Because Sundri is a wily old cunt, and she knows the tricks and turns to worm her way into a man's pants. I don't know any of that!"

"You're still young. You'll learn those same tricks as you get older. The important thing is that you've left your tiny speck of a village, where everybody thinks along the same lines. Out here in the real world, there is much to see and much to be learned."

Finally, Miriam quieted down. Bartram was glad to have her silence, as for the last couple of days she had been complaining to him, as she had no other sympathetic ears to turn to. He used the lapse to scan the area around the last erect tent. Everything else had already been broken down and sent off down the road. The men from Grauxall were set to travel the next morning, so this would probably be the last night any of them would have to worry about missing equipment or supplies.

"Bartram, do you know that a few days ago, I followed Orin and Sundri into the woods, without them seeing me." Miriam admitted. "That decrepit old woman took Orin behind a tree. She pulled his breeches down and put his cock into her mouth."

"Did she?" Bartram grinned. "You've never done that before, have you? It is called blowing out the candle."

"I would never do anything like that to a man."

"Why not? It is a great pleasure to a man. If you do that right, a man will not forget about it. I've known many fools who have fallen into love with a woman who is an expert at blowing the candle."

"Orin certainly enjoyed it." Miriam went on. "I heard him crying out in bliss."

"You cannot blame a man for enjoying pleasure."

"No, I suppose not." Miriam sounded resigned. "Sundri may be as old as dirt, but she knows how to please Orin. It would take me a hundred years to become as good as she is at blowing out a candle. Then I would be as old as she is!"

She said the words with some resentment, Bartram noted. "Orin is a good fellow. I'm sure that if you tell him you have only had a few lovers, that he won't expect for you to be as proficient as any madam at a brothel."

"Are you saying Sundri is as accomplished as a madam? What hope do I have, Bartram? I will make a mess of it and Orin will laugh at me. He'll say, look at this dumb woman from the hills, that cannot begin to match up to my ancient witch."

Bartram laughed. "Orin does not think that way."

"I know he does!" Miriam insisted. "Are you still my friend, Bartram? If you are, you must tell me what I have to do to be as good a lover as Sundri is. You cockle that old woman as much as Orin does. What does she do to you that keeps you returning to her?"

"Well, she is very willing..."

"And I am not willing at all. What am I supposed to do, take off all my clothes in front of Orin and let him do to me as he will? Tell me about blowing out the candle. What is the trick of it?"

"There is no trick, really. You merely put a man's piece into your mouth and you fondle that man until he bursts from pleasure."

"That is exactly what Sundri did. Hold your finger out, Bartram. Let me put my mouth around it, so that you can tell me if I am doing it correctly."

"I suppose it will make the watch go by faster." Bartram relented. He had one last glance around, making sure no other man was about. Once he'd stuck his finger between Miriam's lips, he felt her blowing air on it. "What are you doing?"

"Blowing the candle, as you said."

"No, that isn't the right way. You have to understand that a woman's mouth is taking the place of that woman's cleft. The hold has to be much tighter. And you don't blow, despite that this is called blowing the candle. You suck. Here, suck on my finger as if you were sucking on a hard candy."

"Like this?" She asked.

After a few moments, Bartram said, "Now move your lips back and forth along my finger. No, no, that's not it. Here, give me your blasted finger. I will put that into my mouth and show you how it should be done."

"Oh. That's different." She noted, a short while later.

"Try again." Bartram encouraged her. "That is much better. Do you know what? If you really want to get good at this, you should go to your knees. That would be more of the actual angle you would be performing this in."

"All right." She agreed.

Bartram poked two of his fingers into her mouth. "This is closer to the size of a man's piece. Try it now. Yes, that is much better. You are getting the hang of it. Keep going until I say to stop. Move your head back and forth, so that your mouth can graze along the entire length of my fingers. That's it, Miriam. You are finally doing it right."

"Enough to impress Orin?" She wondered.

"I'm sure of it. I don't believe Orin will be as picky as you make him out to be."

"I should do this a bit longer."

"Yes, you should." Bartram replied. By then, he was feeling more than a little excited. "Of course... You know, my two fingers are not quite the same size as a man's cock would be. You could try this another way, if you are willing."

Without waiting for her reply, the aroused man quickly pulled his breeches down. It was dark out, but the glow from a lantern showed Miriam everything she needed to see. Knowing her as he did, Bartram though she would protest, or possibly even bite him.

"I've never done this before." Miriam admitted. She set her hand on the erect rod. "Sundri does this all the time, doesn't she? All right, Bartram. You'll have to tell me if I am any good at this, so I will not be embarrassed when I try it with Orin."

A moment later, Bartram could sense Miriam leaning closer to him. Her soft lips found the end of him, before she slipped him into her mouth. Her lips glided over part of his length, before her mouth tightened on him.

"Well?" She asked, after letting him go.

"That was good." He answered. "For a beginner."

"I will try it again."

This time, Miriam didn't stop with the introduction. She sucked him in and bobbed back and forth a few times.

"Very good." Bartram told her. "Use your tongue, like I did to your finger. That will make Orin really stand up and take notice."

She did it, awkwardly at first until the got the motion of it.

"Oh, yes." The willing man grunted. "That is the right way. You'll have it down in no time. Orin will be very surprised, oh yes, he will. Try a little faster now."

Miriam kept her actions up.

There were worse ways for a man to pass a night's watch, Bartram considered.

At first, riding in an expensive carriage had been a nice thrill for Orin. As the trip became lengthier, and all he had to look at was the blur of the countryside, the young man became bored. Sundri and Oryala chattered like a pair of exotic parrots, so much that Orin observed them to see how often they paused for air. When their chatter kept cycling back to the same few topics, Orin turned his attention to the carriage itself.

He scrutinized the frame of polished hardwood, the intricacies of the windows and single door, and the ingenuity of creating a hidden storage space below the two short benches. The young man considered the fine stitching and patterns of the upholstery, which was found on the benches and the ceiling. Actually, he was curious enough about that upholstery that he began to pick on a corner of the bench. After he damaged that corner and left it hanging loose, the Lady gave him a good scolding. Another time, Orin thought it would be a good joke for him to piss out the window, and that earned him a good scolding as well.

Every so often, the carriage would brush by foliage encroaching the road. Since Orin was nearly at the point of jumping out of the moving vehicle, for his next amusement he chose to poke his head out. The purpose for this was to find out how close his head could come to a branch without being smashed.

Lady Oryala looked dumbfounded at his dangerous antics, while Sundri covered her mouth and laughed out loud.

"There is a rider approaching from the west." Orin noted, with his head still hanging out the window. "He carries no banner or insignia on his clothing. I would guess he is a common sort."

The two women expected the rider to whisk by, and not for the carriage to slow down only a few moments later.

"I wonder why we're stopping." Oryala said, impatiently. She stuck her head out in the same way Orin was doing.

Four knights from Castra Devana were riding with them, two up front and two in the rear. In addition, six men from Grauxall were riding a short spell behind them, carrying their sacks of ogre heads with them and hoping to be rewarded right away.

A knight came trotting by on his horse, pausing by the Lady's window. "More ogres have been spotted, just south of here and near a large lake. This man from a township nearby is telling us they are savage ogres, and not the intelligent sort. The Holy Church is offering a bounty of one gold pound per head."

"We must go!" Orin spat out excitedly.

"We can't." Oryala replied. "All of our equipment was left behind in the camp. It will be a few days more before the supply wagons catch up to us."

Two unruly men from Grauxall drew their mounts closer. The Lady's knight repeated the news, with the local man soon nearing the deliberating group. The local was told to repeat his announcement from the start.

"We should go." Orin insisted.

"I don't have my riding attire!" Oryala complained. "Am I supposed to run up and down the hills in my slippers?"

"There will be other times, Orin." Sundri tried to pacify the young man.

Orin frowned, turning his attention to the conversation that was taking place outside. Two of the Lady's knights could return to the campsite to hurry up the transporting of the gear. The remaining two knights would stay with the carriage and wait. The men from Grauxall were also going to split their number. Two would go on ahead, both to give warning to their kingdom and to Castra Devana, and they would also redeem the ogre heads they carried with them.

"We could take your ogre heads in as well." One Grauxall man offered.

"That won't happen." The knight refused. "Not after someone from your camp went and helped himself to our food supplies. I distinctly recall seeing two sacks of potatoes with our kingdom's symbol in the possession of your men."

"Not likely." The other man argued.

"I saw it with these two very eyes on my very face!"

"We only took the empty sacks and put our potatoes into them. That's the way the law would see it, if the matter were contested."

"We will take our heads to the Church." The knight said, decisively.

"All right." The other man shrugged. "We'll send two of our men ahead of us, while the remaining four will go hunting down these ogres. There might not be any left once your equipment finally makes it there."

The knight glanced toward his Lady for instructions.

"What is the name of this township?" Oryala wondered.

"Ashmere Lake." The local man answered.

"I've never heard of it." Oryala said, soon seconded by her knight.

"It is a new settlement." The man explained. "The Church displaced the lot of us from another region further away, after a great landslide buried nearly our entire town. We are starting over with the assistance of the Church."

"I see." Oryala said. "Well, someone has to stay here on the road, to inform our following of where we've gone. If you hadn't come by when you did, we would have passed your town by without knowing it was there."

"It is a difficult place to find." The local man admitted. "I would have to lead all of you into it, certainly."

"That makes sense, then." The Grauxall man cut in. "The carriage must stay here on the road to wait for the wagons to come. In the meantime, I will take my men and get the hunt started. The lot of you can catch up to us when you're ready."

Every person not from Grauxall could tell those men were in a hurry to clinch the reward being offered.

"How many ogres?" The resigned knight asked.

"We believe it is an entire village of them."

"An entire village of ogres, truly?" Oryala asked. "We would have heard of them before, I would think, preying on travelers on this road."

"They're found deep in the woods, by the lake, milady. We only came across the bunch after we had started building up our homes."

"We'll go on ahead." The Grauxall man said, firmly.

Inwardly, Orin groaned. It was bad enough riding in the carriage, and now he would be in it when it wasn't moving at all. A sudden flash of inspiration hit him. "I know! I can go with them! You, man of Grauxall, will you take me on the hunt with you?"

"We prefer to hunt with our own men."

"I won't ask for any part of the reward. Anything will be better than sitting here on my arse with nothing to do! Besides that, I have thought up new tactics to use against ogres. I know their weakness!"

The Grauxall warrior chuckled. "You, a mere boy, has tactics against ogres?"

"Ask my friend Sundri if you don't believe me." Orin pointed.

"It might be better if you stay here." The sorceress started.

Orin would have none of that. He started pushing at the door of the carriage until he figured out how to work the latch. Once it swung open, he quickly hopped out. "Don't worry so much, Sundri. I will be fine!"

"Orin!" She shouted.

Desperate to get his legs moving, Orin began striding off.

"Do you think you might need your sword, you bumble-head?"

At this, Orin realized his weapon wasn't on him. He'd taken it off and stuck it into the storage place under the carriage's bench. With his face red from embarrassment, he lowered his head and went to take it from Sundri's hands.

"I know you are a capable young man, Orin," Sundri told him. "But I want you to be careful out there. Those ogres are a serious lot to contend with."

"I will, dear." Orin said. He looked at the hairy Grauxall man.

"Can you pull your own weight?" The man asked.

"Of course I can. I have tactics against the ogres, don't I?"

This time, the man grinned at him. "We will see about your tactics. Orin, is it? I am Vetel. You can ride with me, boy, and if you can take down an ogre, I will buy you a drink and a wench!"

"And what if I take down two of them?"

Hearing this, Vetel started laughing. "Don't you worry about this young man, ladies. We will keep him safe under our wings."

"Be careful, Orin." Sundri said.

"I will." Orin reiterated. "If you have any worries, save them for the ogres we are about to hunt!"

If a typical town or village could be compared to a door, Ashmere Lake could rightly be considered its knob. It was more of a refugee camp than a settlement, with lean-tos and tents outnumbering the sturdier wooden buildings. Everything was set up for use by the entire community: the cooking area, the bathing area at the edge of the lake, and the public latrines further back in the woods. Only eight families had survived the devastating landslide that had destroyed their original village. Four of those families had children and were settled into the two wooden structures. The rest were couples of man and woman, spread out in a tight area with little to nothing of private space.

"So the Church opened up its purses for you." Vetel figured, once the local man had taken them in and he eyed the meager place.

"They surely did." The local nodded. Apparently he did not catch Vetel's sarcasm. "Everything you see here was paid for by the Church. They have the idea that once we are in good strength, they will stock the lake with fish, bass or carp most likely. This way, we can market fresh fish to the nearest villages."

Vetel had another look at the few residents, and at their homes. "You have no priest living here?"

"Not yet." The man replied. "A priest comes by every two or three weeks to see how we are doing. He comes and goes with the supply wagon."

"I see." Vetel rubbed his hairy chin. He called out to one of his men. "Find out more about these ogres and where we can find the lot, will you? I'll see what this place has as far as entertainment."

Once the local man was diverted away, Vetel gave Orin a hard gaze.

"What is it?" Orin asked. "Do I have a bug in my hair? Is it on the tip of my nose?"

Vetel considered the young man, before he smiled. "I find I like you already. At first, I thought you were a pampered brat, but you're not, are you?"

"I am far from being a pampered brat. In fact, I have a good amount of disdain for pampered brats. If you see one, let me know and I will punch him in the head."

"We will get along famously, you and I." Vetel laughed. "Have you bedded a woman yet, boy?"

"Yes."

"How many?"

"Oh, not so many. But the ones I have bedded have not complained about it. In fact, they come back for more of me."

"Prove it, boy."

"You want me to prove it?" Orin asked. "What should I do, run over to the first woman I see and boffle her over?"

"There is no one around to stop you." Vetel hinted. "Go on, choose one."