Rune Guard

The trader described, in intricate detail, the serpent I was to collect. His instructions were to do with it as I had done with the arrows. I was to use the staff, first, to find it - and then to grasp it, just behind the head.

He told me not to venture into the water for any reason because the depth was deceptive. He remained where he was and sent me to search. I didn't believe he was lazy. It was obvious that he knew the serpent could be found here. He also knew how to collect it. He also knew that the swamp was dangerous. This was another chance to test me, or teach me, or both.

Soon, I came upon two of the creatures. One was small; it was about the length of my wrist to my elbow. The other one was easily twice that size. I grasped the staff and focused on the larger one. For whatever reason, both of them started moving my direction. I didn't want to deal with two of them and wondered how to split them up. At that moment, the smaller one moved to my left and the larger moved to my right. I stepped over to meet the bigger one. I moved back a bit to make sure it was out of the water before I focused on darting forward to grab it in the manner that the trader had described.

Once I had the thing in my grasp, it writhed and squirmed, trying to escape. I held it firmly and return to my companion. When he saw me approaching, he lifted the lid from the jar and indicated that I should place the serpent within. As soon as its head passed through the opening, its writhing slowed. My hand & fingers were growing more and more numb, the longer they were inside of the jar.

"As soon as he relaxes, you can take out your hand," the runesmith told me.

"Sleep?" I asked, staring, once again, at the runes, and looking up at their creator.

He nodded, replaced the lid, pointed out the two different runes, and said, "Calm and sleep."

"There was a smaller one as well," I told him.

"Go. Its venom will be stronger; it will also be quicker. Make sure to use the staff," he told me.

A few minutes later, I returned with the second creature. I made sure it was fully asleep before I let go of its neck and pulled my hand from the jar. I could barely move my fingers and the feeling didn't return for several minutes.

Once we were back on the wagon and had turned around, he told me the name of the serpent and some of the things that its venom was useful for. From what he said, ink made from venom was useful for curses and poisons. I asked about the red ink that he had used for the staff. He said that it was useful for binding and strengthening.

We returned to the dusty road and turned to the left to continue as we had been before. As we plodded along, I thought about how much I had learned - in only a couple days.

After another couple of hours, we came to a large stream. There was a rocky bridge over the water. On the nearer side were a few shade trees. Under these, we took our rest; allowing the mule to drink and graze. The runemaker produced hard biscuits and two small strips of pemmican. I dumped the warm water from my canteen and refilled it with the cooler stuff from the fast-moving brook. For no more than I ate, I was sated. The water was most refreshing.

As my patron started gathering his things, he spied a bullfrog on the water's edge and sent me to retrieve it. It went into the jar with the snakes. Several locusts and hoppers caught his attention as well. When I returned with these captives, they went into a second jar. The runes on this jar were the same as those on the first.

On the road once more, we traveled for more than a couple hours before I saw a line of trees. Since those swathes of growth normally accompanied a stream or river, my mouth was watering at the prospect of something cooler than what was in my canteen.

I started uncapping my water-flask, with the intention of emptying it onto the dusty road, when the merchant looked over at me and shook his head.

"Just because there's water," he said, "that doesn't mean it will be drinkable. Never drink stagnant water. The faster it's moving, generally, the safer it is."

The mule took a few more steps and he repeated the phrase that I was coming to hate, "Use your staff."

I hung the canteen around my neck, once more, and took the staff back into my hand. Based on his familiarity with the road thus far, I was fairly certain that we would not be stopping.

We were two stones' throws from the bridge when my stomach twinged. I vaulted from the seat and went to put myself between the mule and the danger. I jogged half the distance and then slowed to see what I was up against. From the tree-line on the right, just before the bridge, an 8-foot tall troll lumbered out of the foliage and raised a broken tree branch like it was a club.

I noticed the mule was stationary, standing in the middle of the road, well back from the fight that was coming. I heard the trader say, "Use ..."

"I know," I said, somewhat angrily.

At the moment I turned to face the troll, there was movement from the other side of the bridge. An exceptionally short, blonde-haired girl rushed to join the fray. She looked to be about my age. She was wearing a plain brown robe - with a badly frayed hemp-cord as a belt. Her hair was loose and fell to her shoulder blades.

"He's mine, you idiot!" she yelled.

I paused, waiting for her to engage the massive brute. I was looking back and forth between them, trying to figure out how I thought this was going to end. She was probably only half his height. She raised her hand to cast a spell. Her palm was facing me. My jaw dropped to my chin as a small lightning bolt arced from her hand towards my face.

"She was talking to the troll," I mumbled to myself.

The closer the bolt got to me, the more it reminded me of the arrows the archers had been firing. Out of the corner of my right eye, I noticed that the troll had ignored her. He was intent on getting to me first. I stepped towards the lightning-dart and used my palm to deflect it at the behemoth. The first bolt hit him in the chest. The only thing that did was piss him off.

Thankfully, the wizard-girl had already sent me more missiles to use. I pushed the next one at his face. He tried to dodge and failed. He turned his head and it hit him in the cheek. He roared. He was still approaching so I quickly stepped towards the girl - putting myself between the two of them. The girl threw another lightning bolt and I simply leaned out of its way. It struck the troll in the chest again. My ears were ringing from all the bellowing he was doing.

The troll was five steps behind me; the girl was five steps in front of me. Five of my steps are like two for the troll. I stepped towards the girl, looked her in the face, and said, "Boo!" Focusing on the staff, I could almost "see" the troll swinging the club down to try to turn me into a puddle. I stepped back, under his swing, and his arms surrounded me as the tree branch smashed against the ground where I had been a moment before. The force of the impact blew up the girl's robe. Somewhere, in a galaxy far away, the scene reminded someone of Marilyn Monroe standing on an air vent.

From two steps away, the blonde fired a massive bolt. By that point, I was standing to the troll's right. He howled once more and, for a moment, I thought his belly-button might untie itself. He lurched towards her and bellowed. Chunks of whatever rotting corpse had comprised his last meal blasted from his gullet in a spray of saliva and rage. The girl stepped back, lost her balance, fell to the dirt, and lay stunned. The troll raised the huge tree branch into the air. I knew I was standing in the splash-zone. I stepped forward, raised my palm, and pressed it against his side.

I'm not sure why I did it; maybe I thought I would distract him. A pulse-wave shot from my body, into his. He was moving a little slower - but the girl was still going to be mush. I pressed again and another wave strummed through his body - like the ripples of a pond when you throw a stone in. He froze.

"Trolls are resistant to magic," the trader said.

I loved his little teaching moments. Somebody, in that far away galaxy, thought he reminded them of Mr. Miyagi from "Karate Kid".

I grabbed the girl by the ankle and dragged her towards the bridge. It's a good thing she didn't weigh much. I got her halfway to the water before she regained consciousness.

"What are you doing?" she complained loudly.

"Saving your ass," I replied.

Since she was, obviously, awake, I released her foot, stepped to the edge of the road, and stood, waiting for the trader to come get me. When the mule got to where I was standing, he stopped. I scratched his muzzle and walked to the wagon to join the runemaker. As soon as I was aboard, we were off once more.

"Stop!" the girl yelled, "I'm not done robbing you."

"Seriously, half-pint? Why don't you pick on somebody your own size?" I suggested.

"I hate you!" she screamed.

I knew she was going to throw the bolt before she even raised her palm. By the time she cast the spell, I was already standing in the back of the wagon, waiting for it. When the bolt flew my way, I snatched it from the air, held it in my hand, and examined it.

I looked up at her, winked, and said, "It's beautiful. Thanks. I'll cherish it always."

She stamped her foot in the dirt and huffed at me. If she wasn't so all-fired mad, she might have been cute.

I pulled out the neck of my shirt and slowly pushed the energy dart into the green pendant. When the bolt was gone, the stone made a happy burping sound. The wagon continued to bump along the road. I climbed over the back of the seat and rejoined my boss. He was grinning. I ignored him and looked toward the horizon, hoping to see someplace I could refill my canteen. I was thirsty and the water in my flask was warm again.

~~~

The sun was beginning to set as we pulled into the dusty courtyard for the inn. I was tired of sitting. I climbed down and scratched the mule's nose in the places that were hard for him to reach. He was appreciative but was more than ready to have the halter off.

The runemaker returned with two chits. By now, I had figured out which one was for the mule and for the wagon. The fact that he wasn't carrying chits for me and him suggested that we were sleeping in the inn tonight. He nodded to me as he headed to meet the hostler. The stable-master showed us where he wanted the wagon and the beast.

Once they were both in the stall, the trader focused on gathering his things; I focused on caring for the mule. He needed to be brushed. I took the halter off and tethered him to the wall with a loose loop of rope.

"You gonna stay put?" I asked him.

He bared his teeth at me - which I took to be a smile - sort of. I decided that was a "yes".

I leaned a little closer and told him, "Holler if anybody tries to mess with you."

He raised and lowered his head a couple times, like he was nodding.

"Grab your pack and the jar of reptiles," the trader told me.

The stable-master slipped between us to bring water and hay to our long-eared friend. As he turned to come back out, the trader handed him two coppers. As he placed them in the hostler's hand, he looked at the wagon and the mule. The man took them and nodded.

Once we were inside the inn, the owner brought the trader two keys, and said, "First two doors on the right." He pointed to the stairs.

The merchant handed a key to me. I knew my letters and my numbers up to 100 - and a few runes. My key was number 2. We headed up the stairs.

"Put those things in your room," he instructed.

I nodded.

"Do you know the rune for 'watch'?" he asked.

I drew what I thought it was in the air in front of me as he watched. He drew it with his own finger, correcting the part I had gotten wrong. He made me do it, once more, to be sure I'd gotten it right.

He handed me a marker-stick, about a span long, with a small nib cut into one end.

"Spit into your palm, fill the nib, and draw that rune on the wall across from the door in your room," he told me.

"When it's open - or when it's closed?" I asked, trying to figure out which wall he was talking about.

"Your choice," he replied.

I used the key to enter the room, placed my pack on the bed and the jar on the table, drew the rune as instructed, and returned to the hall. I nodded to the merchant that it was done. He didn't act like he wanted the marker-stick back so I shoved it into my coin purse. He led the way down to the common room where I could smell things that made my stomach rumble - and not from pending danger.

The barmaid offered us three choices for the meal: roast, stew, or lamb. There were several choices for the drinks but the runemaker picked watered ale for both of us. As our meals arrived, he glanced at my staff. I sighed, loudly. He ignored my protest and pulled his plate in front of him, closing his eyes. I assumed he wasn't offering thanks to the gods and grasped my staff, focusing on my food and drink. My stomach didn't get weird so I assumed I was okay. I looked over at him and he nodded.

"The place feels balanced but you can never be too safe. Sometimes they may have just left it sitting on the counter too long."

I thought of all of the people I had known, throughout my lifetime, who had gotten bad food. Some had recovered after a day or two; some never did. If the staff could keep me from that, it was worth its weight in gold.

When the barmaid returned, it was a different person. This one was younger. She wasn't as young as me but she was way younger than the other woman.

"Where did the other maid go?" the trader asked.

"Woman stuff," the girl whispered.

"Can I take your plate?" she asked me.

I nodded.

She took it and disappeared, returning almost immediately. The trader pressed his palms to his face like he was pushing away a hard day. I wondered what he was sensing.

"Can I get you another drink?" she asked me, smiling.

"I'm good," I said, returning her smile.

"You just passing through?" she asked.

"Yeah," I replied.

"You work for him?" she pried.

I nodded, not sure why she was spending so much time with us - especially when there were several other patrons eating and drinking.

"You ... uh ... want to ..."

I looked into her face. She didn't look like trouble. The staff was between my knees, lying at an angle, resting between my hands. It wasn't indicating any problems. I looked into her eyes, waiting for her to finish her question.

"I get off an hour after dark. Would you care to sit and talk by the garden when I finish working?"

"Yeah," I said, "sure."

"Okay," she said, hurrying away.

A minute or so passed and the runemaker leaned close to me and whispered, "Have you ever been with a woman?"

Suddenly there was a lump the size of a bullfrog wedged in my esophagus. I was struggling to get it to move so that I could breathe again.

A couple minutes passed and the original barmaid was back.

"Anything else, sirs?" she asked.

The trader pulled out two copper pennies and laid them on the table, his fingers holding them in place. The waitress leaned closer.

"As long as her intentions are what I believe them to be, I have no problem with it," he told her. "She will need to be patient, however. He is untried."

The woman nodded and the trader removed his fingers from the coins.

As she laid hers on them, the old man said, "Thank you for the food. It was good."

"I'll tell the cook," she replied.

~~~

The sun had dropped by the time we returned to our rooms.

"Wash in the basin," the trader told me as he unlocked his door, "I'll see you in the morning."

I wet the rag in the water in the basin and cleaned as much of the road-dirt off of me as I could. By the time I finished, the water looked nasty. I felt a lot better.

I was sitting on the bed in my breech-cloth when there was a knock at the door. I laid the staff down, scrambled to throw on my clean clothes, and moved to the entrance. I eased it open to find the young barmaid.

"Could we talk in here?" she asked.

I nodded and stepped back, closing the door once she was inside.

We sat on the bed and talked for quite a while. I fiddled with the staff. She smiled a lot. She was pretty. Her name was Janna. She was the innkeeper's niece.

Her hair was the color of ripe grain. Her cheeks had a sprinkling of freckles on each one. Her giggles made my stomach do flip-flops. She kept having to tuck errant strands of hair behind her ear.

We talked about learning our letters and overbearing moms and cuddly kittens and playful pups. We talked about chores and learning what it takes to make it on our own.

Before I knew it we were sitting side-by-side and our legs were touching. She laid her hand on mine and the hair on my head stood on end. She smiled at me and interlaced her fingers with mine. Her hand was soft. My peter started growing. It wouldn't stop. I shifted, uncomfortably, and she asked me if we could lie down to talk.

We chatted a while longer. I kept getting distracted by her neck, her lips, her freckles, her deep brown eyes.

I realized she had stopped talking and her lips were touching mine. Her eyes were closed. My brain was filled with explosive popping like a green log on a hot fire - as the moisture fights to escape the heat.

She opened her eyes, leaned towards me, and rolled me flat on my back. The mounds of her soft breasts were pressed against my shirt. My hands were around her ribs, pulling her closer. I never wanted her lips to stop touching mine. She moved them in a way that had my body burning with desire.

When our lips separated, I groaned.

"I want more, Derik," she told me. "Can I?"

"Yes," I moaned.

She stood to her feet and started pulling her dress up, over her head. Her chest-wrap bulged, struggling to contain her breasts. She removed it and my eyes were glued to her motherly-mounds.

"Put your mouth on them," she ordered, breathily.

"Like a baby?" I asked.

She nodded, biting her lower lip.

As soon as my mouth was on the first one, she twined her fingers into my hair and ordered, "Suck them. Nibble them. Please!"

When I did as she demanded, the most erotic sounds began to come from her. I vowed to do whatever I could to get her to make more of those sounds. I sucked and munched.

I had once heard a mother complain about her baby biting her while it was nursing. I was sure Janna didn't want me to use my teeth on her breasts. I used everything else I could though. She was getting louder. My peter was getting harder. I lost myself in her breasts as she praised me and encouraged me.

Standing to her feet once more, she ordered me to undress. I removed all but my breech-cloth. She shook her head and indicated that it should go as well. The only person who had seen me with no clothes was my mother - and that was a long time ago - when I still needed help to bathe. As sheepish as I was, I wanted more of what I'd gotten up to this point. She seemed to be indicating that more would come if I just gave in - so I did.

As soon as I was naked, she said, "Sit - on the edge."

Once I complied, she dropped to her knees in front of me.

She took my stiff peter into her hand and I nearly passed out. The only thing that stopped me was that I was dying to see what came next.

She looked into my eyes and drug the top of her tongue across the head of my sex. I gasped as the sparks and explosions overtook my brain once more. She smiled as my eyes went out of focus for a moment - and then went back to staring at her.

Once the tip was wet, she pressed it against her breast and rubbed it around her stiff little bud. After the first was done, she switched to the other. The friction of her breasts on my peter was driving me wild.