Tales from Hyboria - Tara's Tale Pt. 02

"Good lords, ladies, and worthy friends, I crave your heed!"

The hall was small, though with enough room to hold escore-odd guests who strolled while sipping wine goblets. Burghers robed and turbaned strode beside nobles and knights clad in silk jupons. On their arms hung perfumed noblewomen of faces both dark and fair, though hair dark despite the jewels sparkling therein. Painted silks of blue and rose clung to their curves but did not hide where they plunged between breasts and clung low on hips, revealing taut, pouting bellies.

On a stand at the hall's head, shared with musicians who had paused play, Theophobus spread arms welcomingly: "It is my great honor to return to Yaralet after many years abroad, and again in your excellent company I look forward to providing you such enchantments for your pleasure as I once did, and advising in matters sorcerous.

"For your diversion tonight," he added: "I provide a small challenge." He waved, and a short, nymphlike figure stepped forth from a sidehall. She wore a wispy, sleeveless gown that opened her sides and thighs, girdled at waist. A black scarf whelmed her brow, eyes, and nose. "Let me propose a simple test," explained Theophobus: "My apprentice stands before you blindfolded." He waved at the nymph. "Yet thanks to her powers, I claim she can still witness all that undergoes within this room. I offer this good company the chance to prove so, right or wrong, to your satisfaction!"

"Nay. This is a cunning trick!" cried a silken youth from the fore. "I have seen mummers so perform in the great market of Korshemish!"

"Indeed! Likely the blindfold is holed or sheer enough to let the wench see through," sneered another.

Theophobus bowed to the twain. "You may think so, young masters, but what proof would you need to convince otherwise, that her powers are true?"

While the first youth gawked, his friend doffed cloak from his shoulder. "Here," he bade, grinning: "Drape her head with this. Let's see her see through thick wool!"

At the young man's offer, Theophobus set the cloak over the nymph, hiding not only her head, but most of her body, down to her waist. He settled the folds until the cloak-owner grunted satisfaction, and stepped back.. "Now she is ready," he exclaimed. "Make your tests!"

"What am I wearing?" asked the first youth.

"A red tunic with gold trim, and gold cuffs on your wrists," answered the blind girl beneath the cloak.

"What do I hold in hand?" asked the cloak's owner, who had drawn a glinting poignard from his belt.

"A dagger with crimson gem, which I guess a garnet, she answered.

"Who stands behind me?" asked a third, who had just come up.

"A man wearing black silk, rings on his hand, and black mask," she said.

All gasped and looked at the man who had come up with the speaker, who was indeed arailed just as she told. A small cheer started through the hall.

For the next half-turn of the glass, guests posed their own tests and tricks. Some wadded scarves and threw at her from afar, which she deftly dodged. Some tried to trip her feet, though she sidestepped. Others reset dishes on a table, and whereof she warily told the order.

Last came a man who held a sheet of vellum folded. "What is written hereon?" he demanded.

"Unfold it, that you may read it yourself," she answered. The man did so, though held the written side close to his chest.

"The side toward me is blank," she told; "the side toward you tells a lie."

"And what lie is that?" asked the man, chortling.

"It reads thus: 'She is a fraud.'"

Under the crowd's jeers the man withdrew. Another came up behind her, with hand stretched low. He made to pinch her ripe haunch, when suddenly she whirled. Her hand caught his wrist. "That is not part of the entertainment, good master," she chided sharply.

"I am surprised," the man laughed back. "Such street performers as you can generally be had for a silver." Then his other hand dove at her breast.

The nymph's other hand likewise caught it. "Neither is that, good master. Now if you will be kindly, withdraw."

The man stepped back. He bowed under the party's cheers.

Theophobus stepped forth. He took the nymphlike figure's hand, led her back to the stand, and flourishingly pulled the cloak off her head, and then the scarf from her eyes. There stood Tara; kohl making her gray eyes glitter, and cheeks roughed against creamy skin. She bowed to the throng, who roared approval.

The party broke into chattering knots who laughed and refilled their goblets. Tara strolled through the hall, accompanied by a herd of swains vying for her favor. A dance tune started, and she took turns with each, skipping and whirling over the floor.

Theophobus came to the floor's side and clutched her arm. "Come with me."

Tara shook free of his grasp, but fell in beside him. Together they left by the sidehall, through the kitchens, to a rear door.

There in a small court lane waited the masked man in black silks. Theophobus halted before and bowed. "My lord," greeted.

"An impressive performance," commended the masked lord, who crossed his feet and nodded. "Yet I must agree with the others. I too have seen this trick in the market of Korshemish."

"If mummers have shown a trick, my lord, it is indeed just a trick," answered Theophobus. "Tonight we have seen true power of extra-perception."

"So you say," begrudged the mask-wearer, "and of anyone else I would swiftly yell fraud. Yet your name is known to me, Theophobus, once of mighty Korshemish and lately of Ianthe in Ophir, for I heard it whispered from my own father's lips ere he died. He imparted you did him certain service, though he withheld any details."

Theophobus bowed head, and then looked around, lest anyone was overhearing. "Your father was wise in many things, oh Prince, and singularly in withholding these secrets, for they touch o fell matters, which only princes truly understand, and lesser men may ignorantly mistake. It was my honor to serve him. His death was untimely, though I am glad you are come of age to succeed him."

"Yes. my uncle King Strabonus has appointed me governor of Yaralet as reward for securing the city's surrender," said the masked lord. "It's a curious price: power and glory set in the city that lies farthest from Koth's heart. I could think of no better place to put a kinsman I forwished. Furthermore, it is rebellion if I set one foot beyond my province without leave." He scowled. "Yet when I heard of your return, good Theophobus, I was intrigued. Tell me: would you serve me as you served my father?"

"Gladly will I offer my service, good Prince," answered the old man, "And not only my own, but also my apprentice and daughter's."

"Your daughter?" he eyed Tara again. "I am more used to sorcerers as men shriveled under their studies' years, such as yourself. Tell me," he licked his lips and eyed her: "what have you to offer, other than comeliness?"

"Many things," answered Tara, "but among them I shall lay open your enemies' secrets and teach them true terror, Prince Thanocles."

"You speak my name!" hissed the nobleman, and wildly looked about. "On your lives, be silent! I dare not let be known that I am here!"

"Peace, my lord," soothed Theophobus. "My daughter is indeed young, and not above showing off her powers. We are well alone, and your secrecy safe. I have seen to it. You shall have her talent, which someday will outshine my own, and my years' knowledge as well. Now how may we serve?"

The prince resettled his mask and glared between them. "I heard word of laying open my enemies' secrets," he replied. "Let us start with that."

"What enemies, my Prince?"

"I have a spy within my court, for the king would not send me here without wise to watch my every word and deed. Find out who it is, and what they have been telling my uncle."

"It shall be so, oh prince." Theophobus bowed. "Yet outfinding such were much easier if we could do so from within your court."

"Vey well," said Prince Thanocles. "You shall be invited to the Librarium. Now I must go, lest I be missed." He turned and swept out while the two sorcerers bowed.

After he left, Theophobus turned: "You upstarted to call him out by name," he chided, beard wagging.

"Just so," said Tara. "Now he will not forget me.

* * *

Tara stepped unseen among the courtiers. Under fluted columns and arching, sky-painted ceilings, full threescore revelers and more danced and laughed within the Palace of Yaralet. Zithers, flutes, and drum played a rolling, hypnotic tune while dancing girls, nude but for scarves clung to round hips and bangles on wrist and breast, who writhed and whirled bonelessly. Slaves oiled and shaven bore silver platters full of sweetmeats, or ewers of thick ruby wine among the guests: silken-draped ministers and barons, chiseled knights with hard arms in sleeveless tunics, and noble ladies in gossamer gowns that hinted wickedness half-concealed.

Tara studied the panorama, of bodies strutting amid the candles and blazes, figures flitting among the shadows, pairs twisting on each other, and those seeking solace among the hall's nooks or benighted spaces, where the portico opened unto the palace gardens. She watched their stirrings away from the light, from the broad banquet tables strewn with half eaten viands, bread crusts, and fat fish-eggs brought from the far Vilayet. She stepped through a knot upmade of a matronly noblewoman who let two knights lick and suckle on her naked breasts while she laughed and cooed, then among grinning, wolflike youths who hounded and slapped the flanks of a cowering slavegirl. She halted by a wall, wherealong a brace of gowned and gold-chained ministers spoke in voices low. She stood by one's elbow, whereof he took no heed.

"...So what know we of this new Theophobus, who is whispered as a sorcerer is granted a chair in the Librarium?" asked one.

"Twas rumored he was a sorcerer when he served the Prince's father," said the other. "Yet all I ever saw of him was flash-powder and petty charms. As I heard, he has promised a batch of yellow lotus for the Prince's birthday feast, which will foretell a quiet eve, without this bawdiness we now witness."

"Were that he had the wretched stuff brewed tonight! My daughter is here among these overlusty jackals. We could not refuse the Prince's invitation. Yet I'd not have her heavy with some captain's misbegotten brat!..."

Tara half-listened while she watched the hall. A shout from the head table drew her ears. There she beheld Prince Thanocles, maskless. She witted a young man swarthy with well-groomed curls, of middle height but stout and with thick thews. He laughed among a ring of like-clothed men, who looked as knights, petty lords, and others who stood among the army's officers. He laughed and lifted a goblet, while his other arm twined about a young lady with hair rare like spun gold, and whose gown peaked from her nipples. The prince rose from his seat and joined his fellows in toast. Tara started across the hall, toward him, while he whispered in the golden lass's ear. He left the table, drawing her after him. With cheers from his minions, Thanocles and his companion passed through a door, which kilted porters shut afterward.

Tara neared the door. Briefly she halted, without the porters' mind. Then she strode forward, and ghosted through the shut door, with no more effort than one would brush aside a shroud.

A marble hallway led to many doorways. Tara paused at each and peered within. She caught giggles from a room near the hallway's midst and went inside.

There she found Prince Thanocles, who was kissing the golden-haired lass, both sitting upon a curtained couch. "I must tell you how grateful I am, Lady Titiana, that you agreed to speak with me," he spoke, smiling.

"My Prince, it is my greatest pleasure," she fawned. "The honor you have done me and my family I know not how to repay."

"You are kind, my lady." Thanocles grinned. "Yet I must confide in you: much as I rejoice in your company, and even in your eyes' light, I must speak on a grimweighty matter."

"But what is it, my Prince?" she asked, eyes wide.

"You have heard that power dwells in noble blood?" he asked. When blithely she nodded, he continued: "It is that power in your blood I need."

Titiana swallowed. "How can I help?"

"I need your power to combat that which stirs in my own," he explained with soft urgency. "You see, my lady, I am afflicted with a condition, which unfortunately falls too often on those like me descended from royalty. Have you heard of such?"

She shook her head.

"It stems from an overabundance of manly humor. These humors and their development have caused me a deformity!"

"My Prince, I could never believe!" declared Titiana, eyes glistening. "I would never call you so! You are too perfect. Too beautiful!"

"If only your words were true," he answered ruefully. "Yet I bear a dreadful secret. Tell me, Lady Titiana, will you keep my secret?"

"Of course, on my life!"

"You honor me more than you know," declared Thanocles. "I have no choice but to show you," whereat he raised his jupon's hem and bared his manhood to her eyes, whereat Lady Titiana stared, gasped, and set hands to mouth.

Thanocles gazed on her. "You see my cruel curse, my lady?" he asked. "You see this frightful swelling, which grows and lengthens without uplet? Its angry red choler and the stiffness it engenders? Can you guess the pain I'm in?"

Titiana's hands quivered. "What horror, my Prince!"

"Yes. I live in horror, and fear it will be my death," he agreed. "Yet the gods are kind. There is a cure."

"What cure?"

"Earlier, I mentioned the power that dwells in the purity of your noble blood," he told the golden-haired lass, taking her hand: "Will you help to cure me?"

"Anything, my Prince!"

"Words fail my gratitude," said Thnocles. "Moreover, you hold a rare mightiness, for not only are you noble, but also virgin, which greatens any magic tenfold. Now you must milk me, dear lady, and draw off the foul humor that hurts me so."

Titiana gaped. "But would it not be better tended by a leech, who may lend his fleam's edge?" she asked.

"Impossible," he swiftly answered. "The infection is too far along. One wrong nick of my turgid flesh, and it would burst. Even if I survive, I could never have children. Now quickly, lass, as my life hangs, take me in your hands!"

Tara unseen crept to the couch's end while golden-haired Titiana knelt before the prince and began her ministration. "Easy, lass," he bade. "You must not squeeze so, lest it burst open. Rather, stroke and stretch the skin until the humor runs freely."

Titiana nodded, fingers shakily worky his veiny stiffness. "Does it pain you, my Prince?"

"It does," he grunted, "though already your touch gives me relief I have not known in months since the affliction caught me. Now swiftly, and be sure to stroke the full length."

"Yes, my Prince!"

Tara hovered near, leaned over the kneeling maiden, and watched her hands work up and down Prince Thannocles' manliness. Under her touch he stiffened, shut eyes, and gritted his teeth. At last he clutched her shoulder: "It's working, lass! It begins to seep forth! Now swiftly, and if you love me, lady, do not stop!" Tara watched his grimace while he shuddered, squeezed Titiana's shoulder until they bruised, and moaned as if a man almost dying. Titiana openly wept while she kept soothing his erstwhile affliction, even as it slickly drooped within her palms. "Do you live, my Prince?" She quavered. "Have I done you ill and slain you?"

"Gods, Ishtar, and Bel bless you, lass. You have saved me! Such relief after so long a hurt! Now cease. You have done well."

"My- my lord?" Titiana's voice fluttered. "My gown! I am befouled!" She flailed at her gossamer dress, which plastered wetly and showed her hard pink nipples. "I dare not be seen!"

"Hush," soothed Thanocles. "We shall set this aright. You shall have new, clean clothes." He chuckled: "And in thanks for saving my life, I shall wash you myself."

He led her to a nightstand in the room's corner. There he unpinned her gown and stripped it to floor. Helplessly Titiana tried to hide her breasts and loins. Paying her no heed, Thanocles ungirded his belt and doffed his jupon, leaving him likewise naked. At his bareness Titiana's face flushed. "My Prince, why are you..."

"I am befouled, too," he answered simply. He took a washcloth and wet it from the nightstand's ewer. He stood behind her, circled her in arms, and began to wipe her pert breasts. paying particular heed to her craggy nipples.

Tara again crept near, stepping through the nightstand to better watch. Keenly she observed the golden lass's reaction to Thanocles' washcraft, how his fingers touched, brushed, and then kneaded her breasts. First he did so through the washcloth, but then dropped it from his greedy hands. The sorceress paid close mind to Titiana's face, her blush heightening on cheeks and lips, her strengthening sighs, and her eyes widening in wonder at these sensations, heretofore unknown, that the prince woke within her.

"My Prince," she breathed, "such love you make me- Oh!" She squealed when his hand drifted down her soft belly and dove between her legs. Her whole body tightened. Her hand clutched his, but did not shove him away. "My Prince, what are you..."

"Might so well make sure all of you is clean while we are here." He chuckled and nuzzled her neck.

"But, my Prince, please! This is not... I know not..." Her babble continued, lost somewhere between protest and love declaration while undeterredly Thanocles explored her body, and Tara watched, licking her teeth.

"My Prince," whimpered Titiana: "what do you feel for me? Do you- oh!"

Suddenly her breath died, and she went wholly still. Thanocles, too, felt her change and halted his ministration. "What is it?" he asked.

Titiana did not answer, but shuddered. She craned her head down and backward, where a newly inflated member grew against her hip. "My Prince," she whimpered, "your affliction has returned."

"So it has," grunted Thanocles. He set a hand on her belly, and his other upon her shoulder. "So much humor has built up within me that the swelling has regrown. It looks you have failed, Titiana."

The golden-haired maiden burst into tears. "I am so sorry!" she bawled. "What must I do? Let me milk you again!"

He spun her forward and loomed over her, eyes glaring inches from hers. "It's far too gone for that," he spoke tastingly. He studies her as if weighing a decision. "There is a thing more we may try," he wondered, and then held her gaze hard: "Are you willing to do what must be done? Whatever it takes?"

"Anything, my Prince," she whispered. "Just let me prove my love to you. What must I do? What do you need?"

"Your maidenhead," he answered. "Your virginal blood, and the sweet essence of your womb."

He pushed her back to the couch, whereon she toppled when her calves struck. Thanocles climbed thereon and knelt over her. Heedless of her pleas, he grabbed her legs and set them upon his shoulders. Then he paused, staring down at her breasts, belly, and womanhood, and thighs splayed for his pleasure.

"This cure I will enjoy," he growled.

His manhood stabbed into her outspread maidenfolds. Titiana cried piercingly. Tears wept down her cheeks, even while the golden-haired beauty clutched the prince's arms.

Without disturbance, Tara crawled onto the couch's head, unwitted by the writhing lovers. There she leaned and studied the golden lady's shudders under the prince's repeated invasion. She listened to every mewl from the lass's lips while his assault continued, remarked the sweat beading on her brow and breasts, and also dripping from the prince's shoulders, until it drenched them both, and heard them both gasp for breath. Tara watched as Titiana groaned and bit her lip.