Teamwork Ch. 01

They spent the night curled up in each other's arms, and left early the next morning. Evangeline took them on a straight-line cross-country course to where their job was to be, so they spent the next two nights under hedges. At every farmhouse, cottage or hamlet they came across, they asked if anyone might be available to earn some coin as a warrior with them. The answer was always, "no".

The third night, they managed to find a village round about sunset. They found the inn and negotiated a hearty meal and a decent room, and asked the landlord if he knew of anyone who might be willing to join them as a warrior on their adventures. He didn't know, but he didn't mind them asking round the locals to see if anyone was interested.

As the two of them sat at their corner table near the fireplace, eating their food and drinking their ale, they discussed the need for a third person on this job.

"I mean, I can fry someone once every couple of seconds," Jon was saying, "but only if I can concentrate, y'know? If twelve angry cultists are heading my way brandishing their sacrificial knives, and there's only you to distract them from me, I'm not gonna be able to take down them all."

"I can take down a few," Evangeline said, "but I need to get them just right, and that's a delicate process. Between us, we can take down three or four before they get too close for comfort, but that still leaves eight to deal with, and between us, if they're right up close to us hacking away, that'd be too many for us."

"Yeah. We need someone big and strong who can floor someone in one blow, and can hold the attention of half-a-dozen angry cultists, while us two quietly do our work a few yards away."

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

"So, d'you wanna get up on the table and ask the room for volunteers? Or something?"

"I'll wait 'til I've finished my ale first, give me something to thump to attract attention."

Above the hubbub of the common room, there rose an outraged squeal, shortly followed by a slap and a thump. Evangeline's head snapped round to it instantly, but Jon just looked up, puzzled.

Away in the opposite corner, near the door, a crowd of locals was gathering. Another one was picking himself up off the floor, a livid red mark on his face. The crowd seemed to be hemming someone in, someone who they were not entirely unafraid of.

Evangeline pointed Jon in the right direction. "Looks like a fight starting, maybe? Picking on someone?"

"Hmm, maybe a newcomer," Jon muttered. He took another swig of his ale and peered over at the gathering crowd. He squinted slightly, and it was as if he could see over the locals' shoulders. "It's an Orc," he told Evangeline, surprised, "and she's a warrior!"

"A warrior? D'you think she'd join us?"

"Not if that lot lynch her." He stood. "Come on!"

The crowd were closing in on the Orc, waving their fists in her face. She seemed to be doing nothing more than brandishing her spear in return, but it was starting to get ugly. "Now, lads, settle down, what's going on here, then?" the landlord tried to intervene.

"This Orc damn near killed Cradoc, for nothing more than saying, 'hello!'" one of the locals claimed.

"He looks plenty alive to me," the landlord replied, noting that the one called Cradoc was back on his feet and flushed red as he tried to threaten the Orc.

"Damn near killed him!" the other man insisted.

Jon sent a small jet of flame over the assemblage's heads. They turned as one to face him. "Sorry, just wanted to get your attention," he said, stepping forward. "Master Cradoc there did a bit more than say, 'hello.' He tried to take something that wasn't his."

"And how do you know that?" asked a belligerent.

Jon snapped his fingers and half the candles in the chandelier went out. "I know a lot of things," he replied. Beside him, Evangeline twirled her small mace in her hand, peering at the men as if assessing whose crotch she should crush first.

"He slapped my arse!" the Orc's voice came. "He saw me come in with my wares, asked if that was all I was selling, and when I walked past him, he slapped my arse!"

"A lady's honour is hers to give away only," Jon said, "it's not to be taken by a half-drunken farmer on a whim of impoliteness."

"Master mage," the landlord implored, "the candles, please."

"All in good time, sir, when the present crisis is solved." Jon turned his attention back to the crowd. "It really would be a good idea to let her through, you know. She didn't have to come here tonight, I'm sure, but your lives will be better for it if she's allowed to trade in peace."

"But she's an Orc!" someone protested.

"Half-Orc!" the Half-Orc corrected.

"Unless the local lord's over-strict, she's not breaking any laws by coming in here, is she?"

"No, Master Mage," the landlord said, "no laws broken, yet, not if she was only defending her honour." He tried forging into the crowd to break them up.

"Still a Half-Orc!" someone said. "Dressed like a whore, too!"

"I dress like an itinerant pedlar," Jon pointed out, "doesn't make me one, does it?" And he pointed to the chandelier and snapped his fingers again. Not all of the candles lit back up.

The landlord began to emerge from the crowd again. "Come on lads, she's only a hunter looking to sell some conies, let her up to the bar like civilised people, eh?"

"Trash like that ain't civilised!" said someone without an overabundance of sense.

"Well maybe you should try decking her," Evangeline snarled, "see how long it takes for one of us three to deck you first!"

The crowd began to get ugly again, and the landlord did his best to keep them calm, but rowdy voices were raised in babble again - then suddenly all went quiet.

"What's all this then?" asked a new voice from beyond the crowd.

"I am trying to sell my wares," the Half-Orc said, "but these men don't seem to think I should be in here."

"Really? Well, drink does make men lose their reason. It's a bit early for half the village to be three sheets to the wind already, but I daresay stranger things have happened. Move along lads, let the woman through. And maybe I won't bust all your heads and leave you to sleep it off in the lockup, right?"

The locals mumbled and muttered and looked surly, but the newcomer was obviously respected (or feared), and they slowly broke apart and returned to their seats. That left Jon and Evangeline standing in the middle of the room, the Half-Orc and what appeared to be the village Constable standing by the door, and the landlord halfway between them.

Evangeline's jaw dropped at her first sight of the Half-Orc.

The Constable took one last look around the common room, then gestured to the Half-Orc to precede him to the bar. She nodded thanks and stepped forward, and the landlord hurried back to his rightful place.

"Watch our stuff," Jon told Evangeline, indicating their table, then followed the others to the bar.

The Half-Orc placed three brace of conies on the bar top. "I have these to sell, if you want them," she told the landlord. "One silver apiece."

"They're nice enough, I suppose, but they're not dressed. Five silver the lot."

"Pay her the six, Grady," the Constable said, "don't be greedy."

"Six silver, aye."

"I'll take an ale, as well," she said. The landlord nodded, and began drawing it.

"Good evening, miss," Jon said, planting himself next to her, "I hope my and my partner's assistance was not unwanted?"

The Half-Orc glanced at him, then looked around at Evangeline, and nodded to him. "Thank you."

"Would you care to join us for supper? My name is Jon, my friend is Evangeline."

"Henta." She took the ale and her coins. "Thank you." She headed over to the table in the corner by the fireplace, and Jon followed.

Henta was magnificent. As tall as Jon, wider at the shoulders and hips. A low-cut leather jack (with silvered-chainmail half-sleeves) and a tattered undershirt did nothing to hide the generous swell of her breasts or the sharp definition of her muscles. A leather skirt that reached barely to her knees did little to hide the firm globes of her arse or powerful thighs, and her equally well-defined calves were protected by nothing more than wooden sandals with leather thongs climbing nearly to her knee. She wore a short grey fur cloak on her back, a broadsword at her hip, and carried a spear in her hand. Both Jon and Evangeline thought she was absolutely stunning.

"Hi. I'm Evangeline."

"Henta." The Half-Orc sat opposite the Halfling, leaving Jon to slip into the chair next to Evangeline. There was still some cheese and stew left, and after a brief palm of invitation, Henta tucked in, using Jon's plate.

"What brings you to these parts?" he asked.

"Just travelling. Trying to find someplace to live."

"Life on the road can be rewarding in and of itself, though, surely?"

"Easy for you to say, Human. No one tries to kill you on sight just for being who you are."

"True," Jon admitted. "Wouldn't it be easier if you didn't have that problem?"

"Can your magic disguise me as a Human?" she sneered. "Make me look like you forever?"

"Hardly," Jon replied. "I was more suggesting you might like to join us in our travels."

"Travelling where?"

Jon shrugged. "Here, there, everywhere. Anywhere there's work for folk like us, and where people can pay."

"And where's that?"

"Well, right now, it's a village about twenty miles thataway, where a group of Argonite cultists have taken to kidnapping young women, and the local Baron wants us to stop it."

"Oh yes?"

"Yes. Truthfully, we could use your help."

"You could, could you? And what would I get out of it?"

"An equal share of one gold per head we bring to the Baron," Evangeline found her tongue at last, "any loot they have lying around you might want, and a bit of silver if we rescue whoever they've taken for their next sacrifice."

"Plus, of course," Jon added, "our friendship and companionship, and the protection such brings from impromptu lynch mobs, like the one recently broken up over there."

"Sounds good so far. What do you get out of it?"

"The use of your strong right arm to help keep us alive long enough to collect all that money," Jon said. "And, of course, your friendship and companionship, and whatever benefits that could bring us on our travels."

Henta raised an eyebrow. "And what might they be?"

Jon and Evangeline shared a brief glance, before Evangeline blurted out, "you're fucking gorgeous, you know that, right?"

Henta froze, wide-eyed, as her jaw dropped. "Thank you."

"She's not kidding," Jon said, "there are women who'd literally kill to be as attractive as you."

Henta snorted. "I am not beautiful. In case you hadn't noticed, I'm Half-Orc; we're not beautiful."

"I reckon someone told you that when you were young, and it stuck," Evangeline said. She bent to her pack, stashed under the table. "Just a minute, I've got a mirror here, you can have a look."

Henta's puzzled gaze went from one to where the other would be if she weren't ducked under the table right now. "You both think I'm beautiful?"

"Quite stunningly so," Jon said. "If I hadn't seen the need to intervene so dramatically, I'm sure I would have been as tongue tied as Evangeline was."

Evangeline re-appeared, unwrapping a small glass mirror from a bundle of cloth. "Here," she said, passing it over, "take a look."

Henta took the mirror and looked. "I don't see it," she offered it back.

Jon pushed it back into her hand. "Study your reflection," he suggested, "and compare it to the face of the woman sitting next to me, who was, until you came in, the prettiest woman in here by far."

Henta's eyes switched back and forth. "I'm green," she said almost immediately.

"Not significant," Jon shrugged.

"Heightens your allure," Evangeline added.

"I have tusks."

"I have a mole on my forehead, and a scar on my chin," Jon said. "I cover them with hair so you hardly notice them, just like you cover your petite tusks with your lips."

"Gives you a lovely pout," Evangeline said.

"I have a heavy brow."

"Gives you a piercing look," Jon told her.

"Makes you look confident."

Henta returned the mirror. "I am all muscles, no grace. No soft smooth skin."

"Your muscles give you grace," Jon pointed out, "like a great cat on the hunt."

"Why would I want to fuck a softie?" Evangeline almost purred.

Henta's eyebrows shot upward. "You ... want to ... fuck me?"

"Hell, yeah! I'm getting wet just sitting opposite you."

"But - I'm a woman. And so are you."

Evangeline shrugged. "It in't just men who want to fuck women, and it in't just women who want to fuck men."

Henta turned to Jon. "And you?"

"I wasn't going to broach the subject until later, but yes, I would very much like to make love with you," he replied, "possibly at the same time as Evangeline, if you're both up for it."

Henta's brows began to lower into a scowl. "And fucking each other would be a condition of helping you with these cultists, I suppose?"

"No, of course not," Jon protested.

"No screwing while on a job," Evangeline added. "Course, that dun't mean we can't explore our options when the job's done, does it?"

"I am no-one's whore," Henta almost snarled, making ready to rise.

Jon indicated Evangeline. "She's not mine, and I'm not hers. We do what we do for fun, not coin. Coin is for work, and our work is not fucking."

Henta subsided. "Sleeping with you - with either, or both of you - is not a condition of my joining you? And getting paid?"

"None of us will be required to sleep with another before sharing out the reward," Jon assured her. "Though we'd be terribly disappointed if you didn't join our victory celebrations afterwards."

Henta looked like she was shading red. "I shall see," she muttered, after a few moments. She looked up. "I need coin, and the chance to get a few gold is too good to pass up. You may try to persuade me to your bed again, once the reward is in our hands. I'm not saying I won't say, 'yes,' but I'm not saying I won't say, 'no,' neither."

"That's all we ask," Jon said.

"And come on," Evangeline added, "With a figure like that, we can't be the first ones to proposition you?"

Henta scowled again. "The experiences I have had have not been pleasant," she admitted.

"Well then, we shall take great pleasure in rectifying that circumstance," Jon said.

Henta nodded, and began to eat again. "Thank you for the food. And the help, earlier. I must arrange a room after this."

"The landlord offered us a room with a double bed," Jon told her, "and since Evangeline takes up hardly any space, there will be ample room for us without crowding."

"We shall see," Henta replied. "But if your talk of 'a lady's honour' was nothing more than rhetoric, you'll never be able to fuck anything again."

Jon raised his hands placatingly. "Your body shall be good as sacrosanct."

Henta finished her meal, and they spent the next couple of hours talking about their past lives and experiences, and what drove them to the adventuring life. It was mostly Jon and Evangeline doing the talking here, but Henta was able to weave a tale or two of her time on the road that spoke of a yearning for a better way of life. When Evangeline stretched and yawned at the table, Jon noticed that the common room was considerably emptier than it had been.

"Time for bed, I think," he said, rising and stretching himself. "I'll nudge the landlord about our room."

Minutes later, the three of them were in what must have been the inn's best bedroom, under the eaves of the roof, accessed by a trap door, and with shuttered windows in the gable ends. There was a comfortable chair, a pair of wooden chairs at a round table, and a full-sized double bed.

"I think we might have to come back 'ere after the job," Evangeline said. She sat on the bed to kick her boots off, then stood up on it. "Hey, Henta, come here."

Curious, the Half-Orc approached. "What is it?"

"You said you'd had some unpleasant experiences. How about a pleasant one, just before bed?"

"What?" The scowl was back, and she began taking a breath to shout her indignation at their perfidy.

"Just a kiss," Evangeline assured her. "A goodnight kiss, to welcome you to the team."

Henta visibly cooled down. Jon looked on with an amused half-smile. Henta took a step closer to the bed. "At the first sign of anything improper, you'll find out just how high above the inn yard we are," she growled.

"Don't worry, it's nothing improper."

Henta stepped up right to the edge of the bed. Evangeline gently placed her hands on the other woman's shoulders, and leaned in to plant a gentle kiss on her lips. The kiss lingered, and became deeper, and Henta's hands found their way to Evangeline's waist. After several long seconds, Evangeline carefully pulled back, her tongue returning to inside her own mouth, her lips moving down to capture Henta's lower one, which she gently sucked as she withdrew completely.

Henta was breathing heavily, the rise and fall of her chest pushing Evangeline back slightly with each breath. Evangeline found one of her hands was caressing Henta's cheek. Evangeline, uncharacteristically, flushed, and leaned in to whisper in Henta's ear, "My nipples are hard after that."

"So are mine," Henta whispered back, a little shocked at the realisation that, yes, they were.

Jon broke the spell by clearing his throat. "An enjoyable goodnight kiss, ladies? Time for bed, then." He began undressing, draping his clothes over his pack on the floor.

Henta's skin flushed a deep green. "I - I do not have night attire."

"'s okay," Evangeline replied, climbing down, "neither do we. When there's a bed, we generally sleep in our skivvies." She started pulling off her own clothes.

"I ... We can see each other."

"If that bothers you," Jon said, "don't let it do so for long." He thrust a hand towards the candles on the table, and they snuffed out. "Damn. Now I can't find the bed."

Evangeline laughed. "Just head to my voice, idiot. I'm standing right by the corner."

There was a thump, and Henta swore. "I've found the edge."

"If you scoot on over to the far side, Henta, Jon can go in the middle and spoon me from behind."

"Unless you want another goodnight kiss?" Jon asked hopefully.

"One was sufficient, thank you," Henta replied hurriedly.

Unseen, Jon and Evangeline grinned to themselves in the darkness.

* * * * *

They left the inn early next morning, and made their way to the demesne of the Baron who had hired them. It was late afternoon when they arriver, and the guards knew to expect them, but had not been instructed to let them in beyond the gatehouse. There was no news of any kidnappings, but the adventurers were permitted to stay in the gatehouse overnight and wait for news in the morning - the cultists commonly took their victims the night before the full moon, which the was night after tomorrow.

The night passed uneventfully, with Jon giving Henta a goodnight kiss this time - more passionate than the last one, and no less appreciated for it. They got up, breakfasted with the guards, and prepared themselves.

And only just in time, too; barely half an hour after dawn, a young man came to the gatehouse and reported that his wife had been taken from her bed only a few hours ago. Yes, he'd seen who'd taken her. Yes, they were Argonite cultists.

He was a miller, and he led the adventurers back to his cottage, several miles away. Evangeline examined the bedroom while Henta examined the ground around the cottage. The cultists had dropped nothing useful, but they had left a trail that could be followed.

"What is in that direction?" Henta asked the miller, pointing along the direction the trail led in.

"Nothing, so far as I know, ma'am. As you can see, the hills start getting steep not too far away, it's useless for even sheep farming."