The Exile's Path Ch. 06

With an almost feral growl, Reld held himself against Tula's body, his ass bucking spasmodically as his shaft pulsed and throbbed within his chief's cock-hole. He could feel Tula's arms around his neck, crushing him against her massive titties, wetness covering his cheek as milk spurted from her thick, erect nipples. The orc was growling too, low and fierce, a noise not unlike a giant cat's purr.

"Fuckin' hells, guys," chuckled Fiona, watching Reld pull his spent phallus from Tula's cum-filled cunt. "Make that look any more fun and we'll end up skippin' the job and just fuck around all night."

"Do not tempt me," laughed Tula, getting to her feet after Reld flopped sideways onto the floor, thoroughly spent. "He is a good mate," she added, looking down at the supine lad, "although I worry we have tired him out?"

"Ha! Not a chance!" snorted Reld, picking himself up and stretching. "But maybe I'll get you two to do all the work next time."

A few hours later found Reld, Tula and Fiona standing in the dark on the bank of the castle moat. They had eaten a quick, take-out dinner of chicken pie, bought from a street vendor after Fiona had used her merchant pass to get the party through the city gates. Tula wore her dark blue dress, her dagger tucked into her boot, while Reld wore his tunic, shorts and boots. His disguise, as well as Fiona's gear, was stashed inside a large, waterproof leather sack that the dwarf had made him carry. The smith stood beside the boy, her scandalous outfit hidden by a dark grey hooded cloak.

Across the moat from them was the entrance to the castle sewer. After checking that the coast was clear, the trio quickly undressed and packed their clothes into the dwarf's sealable leather sack. With Fiona leading the way, the group waded into the murky water. Reld looked over at Tula, his heart thumping with excitement in his chest. The orc grinned back at him, her tusks glinting in the moonlight.

The swim across the moat was easy and short - the defensive obstacle was designed to slow down an assault, not to completely prevent one - and a few minutes later the trio emerged on the other side, where a metal grill blocked off the circular entrance to the castle's sewer. A small trickle of vile fluid splattered from the pipe into the water the party had just swum through and Reld was glad the dwarf had made sure they entered the slowly flowing moat upstream from the sewer outflow, so as to avoid the worst of the stinking liquid.

Fiona knelt beside the grating and fished a small leather bundle out of her sack, unfolding it to reveal a set of strange metal implements - various files and shims, many with hooked or notched edges and points. Selecting two of the metal shims ("Lockpicks," explained Fiona) the smith-turned-thief fiddled with the heavy iron lock that held the grill shut and exhaled in satisfaction a moment later when the bulky padlock opened with a solid *ka-chunk*.

"C'mon," hissed Fiona, swinging open the grating and stepping inside.

Once inside the mouth of the sewer and shielded from the sight of anyone across the moat, Fiona delved once more into her sack and produced a small stone bowl and two phials of syrupy liquid. The dwarf emptied the contents of the phials into the bowl, mixing them with a finger, until, to Reld's astonishment, the concoction began to subtly glow. Using the dim light of the dwarf's bowl, they set off down the tunnel.

The trio were still naked from their swim, thinking it wisest to wait until they were out of the sewer and a little drier before getting dressed once more. Thankfully, however, the tunnel they entered was wide enough that they could walk on the sides of it and stay out of the shit creek that ran down the centre. Unfortunately, it was low enough that both Reld and Tula had to walk doubled over.

By the time they reached the end of the sewer, Reld's back was aching. The room they entered smelled worse than the tunnel they had traversed thanks to the large pool of noxious sludge that occupied it's centre. Pipes in the ceiling directed waste from the castle above into the central pool, while another pipe on the far side emptied cleaner water into the pond, creating enough flow to keep the sewage moving out towards the moat. Stone steps on either side of the outflow tunnel, leading up to a rough mezzanine, enabled the group to avoid wading through the foul water.

"Not quite the heroic adventure you imagined, eh lad?" chuckled Fiona, once the three were up on the wide ledge looking over the revolting pond.

"Not really," grunted Reld. "Kinda wishing we'd stayed at your place and kept on fucking."

"Over here," said Tula in a loud whisper. The orc had walked around the mezzanine and had discovered a wooden door set into a slightly recessed part of the wall.

Fiona and Reld moved to join her, the dwarf unfolding her lockpick set upon reaching the door. "This should open up into the dungeons and cellars," whispered Fiona, fiddling with the lock. "There's a few ways up into the castle proper from there."

"We should redress, then," said Tula.

Hoping he didn't smell too atrocious, Reld put his tunic, shorts and boots back on and then slipped his padded gambeson over his head, followed by the Bal's Post tabard. He cinched his sword-belt around his waist. By the time he and Tula were clothed once more, the dwarf had the lock open and was getting dressed as well. Sure that his heartbeat was echoing throughout the castle, Reld followed the two women through the door.

The castle dungeons did not see much use, as those criminals caught and convicted by the city watch were housed in the separate jail attached to the watch barracks. As such, the party found themselves tip toeing through a network of deserted corridors. Some of the former cells had been given over to use as storerooms, however it was clear that not even the lowliest of castle servants came down into the depths the party were travelling very often. There were brackets for torches set into the walls, but none were lit, and the faint, pale light of Fiona's stone bowl did nothing to make their surroundings any less eerie.

As the party passed a dead-end hallway, lined with steel-barred cells, however, they heard a soft voice calling out.

"Giles? Giles?!"

Tula halted abruptly.

"That is Jessamyn," stated the orc in a low whisper.

"What?" said Reld and Fiona, simultaneously.

"That voice - it belongs to Jessamyn," repeated Tula.

"What's she doing here?" hissed Fiona.

"I do not know, but we must investigate."

Reld could see Fiona was about protest, but held back. It was clear Tula would not have heard, anyway; the orc was already stalking off down the corridor. He scurried after her, with Fiona treading softly beside him.

They caught up with Tula as she stopped in front of one of the disused cells. Within, sure enough, was a rather forlorn looking Jessemyn. Drawn in chalk on the smooth flagstones of the cell and only dimly visible in the faint light cast by Fiona's bowl was a large, strange mark.

"T-Tula?" squeaked the blonde girl. "Fiona? Reld? What are you doing here? Where's Giles?"

"What are you doing here?" responded Tula. "And why should Giles be with us?"

"Oooh, I don't know!" groaned Jessemyn. "An elf came to the inn earlier this evening and Giles took him down behind the old warehouse and I followed 'cos Giles has been acting so weird lately but while I was hiding and watching them Lord Tomas came up behind me and he pulled out a knife and he yelled at Giles and said he was going to take him to see Lady Emily and then told the elf to take me to the dungeon and then suddenly there was this big goat woman beside me and then suddenly I was in here and then the goat lady vanished and I don't know what is going on!"

"What the fuck?" whispered Reld.

"Aww shit," muttered Fiona. "Fuckin' elves and fuckin' magic. This is all goin' pear shaped. Time to get the box and get the fuck outta here."

"Get her out first," instructed Tula. "Then we get the box."

Fiona cast another frustrated glance at Tula, but kneeled before the cell door with her lockpicks nevertheless. In short order, another lock gave way under her deft touch. The moment the clicked open, Jessemyn opened the door and stepped out.

"Thanks," she said, pushing between Tula and Fiona.

"Where are you going?!" said the orc, her stoic demeanour, for once, giving over to surprise as the blonde girl started off down the corridor.

"I have to find Giles," said Jessemyn boldly before stopping a few paces down the cellblock. "Although I'm not really sure where I am right now..." she finished lamely.

"Alright! Fuck!" grumbled Fiona, striding forward. "Why don't we go find the king and queen and maybe the hells-damned Emperor of Thae while we're at it?! C'mon, I'll show you to the servant's stairs. They should take us to the apartments."

With a visibly grumpy Fiona leading the way, the small group proceeded into the dark until they entered a section of hallways that seemed to see more use - the torches in brackets were no longer unlit and most of the cobwebs had been swept from the eves. Fiona crouched and stashed her stone bowl back in the leather bag and thrust it into Reld's arms.

"So these stairs," explained the dwarf with a nod towards a stone spiral staircase that led upwards, "should take us into the living quarters of the castle. Tula, you'll have to lead the way up there - this is the limit that I scouted."

"What about me?" asked Jessamyn.

"Well, ideally I'd leave you here, but seeing how quickly everything's got fucked already, I think it's best if you come along. Just stay quiet and pretend to be a whore!"

"Uh, Fiona, I am a whore," whispered Jess, to the dwarf's visible annoyance.

"Yes, but act like one who's meant to be here!"

The staircase that Fiona had guided them to provided access to almost every storey of the castle. On the first floor, it connected to a plain stone corridor that led to the kitchens and servant's quarters. Using the staircase, servants could reach the guest and ducal family's apartments on the upper levels. It was, in effect, a backdoor to the castle interior and the group used it to climb up to the topmost floor, where the duke and his two children had their rooms.

Unfortunately, the entrance to the highest storey was guarded.

"Alright, boyo," hissed Fiona, "time to shine."

"What do I say?" frowned Reld, a churn of nervous nausea swelling in his gut.

"Tell them you are bringing us to see Lord Tarant," interjected Tula, thinking quickly.

"Lord Tarant?" queried Reld.

"A lord who resides in the castle, currently," explained Tula impatiently.

With the three women behind him, Reld steeled himself and proceeded up the stairs. There was only one bored guard standing dutifully where the stairs joined the hallway - a helmeted human woman leaning on her spear haft. This late in the night, visitors were uncommon, and she raised her brow in curiosity as Reld led the small group out into the corridor.

"Well well," drawled the soldier, looking over the motley party. "Wot 'ave we got 'ere?"

"Whores for Lord Tarant," mumbled Reld.

"Wassat boy?" grunted the guard. She looked carefully at Reld. "I never seen you about before. And Tarant's quarters are one floor down."

"Uh, no!" stuttered Reld. "He was moved! Some sort of mess in his old rooms! Big mess!"

The soldier looked at the clearly nervous boy. Her expression shifted subtly. "New on the job, huh?" she shrugged. "Don't let a captain catch you without a helmet, lad. What's in the bag there?"

Reld could feel the sweat beading on his brow, sure that he looked like a soaked mess to any observer. The guard would check the bag, see Fiona's tools and weapons, and then raise the alarm. He could feel Tula tensing beside him and wondered if the orc was going to pre-emptively incapacitate the soldier.

"My tools and toys," announced Fiona, a coy smile curling her lips as she stepped forward and saved the day by opening the front of her cloak to reveal the salacious garb she wore - all straps, leather underwear and tall black boots. "I'm sure you, *ahem*, understand."

The soldier's eyebrows raised. "I knew that old man was a kinky one," she grinned. "Tried to grab my ass more than once. Give him an extra spanking for me."

Fiona laughed warmly and gave the woman a wink before turning on her heel and stalking sassily down the hallway with the rest of the band trying to look nonchalant as they followed her. Around the nearest corner, however, the dwarf's facade fell away and she was all business. Reld, meanwhile, took the opportunity to suck in a few lungfuls of air, trying to steady himself.

Suddenly he felt Tula's hand on his butt. He looked at her by his side, a proud grin on face, and felt strangely rejuvenated. Thus bolstered, when the orc led the group to the entrance to Lady Emily's apartments, the lad approached the guard with much more confidence. Striding boldly up to the bearded soldier at the door, Reld didn't permit the guard the first word.

"Is the lady in?" he snapped.

"Uh, what?" sputtered the soldier, trying to make sense of the motley crew before him.

"The Lady Emily, trooper! Is she in her quarters?!" growled Reld, letting indignation drip from the syllables.

"Uh, no, not presently," muttered the guardsman. "Hey now, who are yo-"

The troopers words were cut off abruptly when Tula delivered a ferocious right handed sucker-punch to the man's jaw. Reld caught him by the front of his tunic before he hit the ground, while Fiona unhooked the guard's keys from his belt.

"Very nice!" chuckled the blonde smith, beaming up at Reld. "Now toss that helmet on your head and stand watch by the door. If someone comes, knock twice on it to give us a warning."

Reld nodded the affirmative at his small chum, but she was already unlocking the door to grant the three women entry while Tula casually picked up the unconscious soldier. A moment later, the youth was standing alone in the corridor, a slightly-too-large kettle helm seated on his head.

There were two things within the apartment that caused the three women to gasp in surprise.

First was the dead body. It was not just any dead body, too. No, this was the body of the duke himself, ruler of Bal's Post, stretched out on the table in front of the large floor-to-ceiling windows, a dagger plunged into his chest. The second was Giles, strapped to an X-shaped frame, completely naked and helpless, his head hanging senseless against his chest.

"Giles?" blurted Jessemyn.

"Fuck!" groaned Fiona.

"This could be a problem," said Tula.

It was a problem. Before Jessemyn had taken two steps towards her beleaguered brother, two knocks sounded out from the heavy oak doors. Tula and Fiona acted with speed born of experience. The orc dragged her unconscious guard over to the huge window, past the duke's corpse, and tucked herself behind the curtain. Fiona seized Jessemyn's hand and bodily hauled her up the stairs, past her struggling brother, into the Lady Emily's sleeping area, where she bundled the confused lass under the bed.

Outside, Reld thought of Tula and sucked in a lungful of air. He slapped a grimace on his face and hoped his knock was early enough for the group inside to find a place to hide, for walking down the corridor towards him was the Lady Emily, the Lord Tomas and a tall, pale elven man with shoulder-length black hair.

"Where's the soldier who was here earlier?" sneered Lord Tomas upon reaching Reld. "Changing of the guard is not for hours."

"Sick, I think, milord," said Reld, trying to stand as straight as he could. "Pulled me in from patrolling downstairs so he could go fill the loo."

"There is a lady present, trooper," quipped Tomas. "I'll have none of your barracks-room talk before her!"

"Leave it, Tomas," hissed Lady Emily, opening the door to her quarters. "We have matters of more substance to attend."

Once the elf and the two aristocrats had proceeded inside, Reld permitted himself a small smile. He felt quite chuffed at his burgeoning ability to blag, although the sensation contrasted uncomfortably with the worry he felt towards the predicament his friends were in within the apartment.

Inside Lady Emily's rooms, three pairs of ears, their presence unbeknownst to her, listened to the conversation that developed between her, her brother and their elven guest.

"I appreciate the prompt payment," said the elf, his voice calm and eventoned. "I hope you have found my services satisfactory?"

"Most satisfactory indeed," came Lady Emily's voice in reply. "Although, things are not quite finished, are they?"

"No, milady," agreed the elf. There was a subtle roar, like a distant waterfall, and then the elf spoke again. "But my assistant and I can put the final pieces in place at your command. May I ask what you intend to do with the boy? He knows of my presence, of course, and we have his sister imprisoned in the disused cells below."

"Well, I was going to kill him," mused Emily, "but then I remembered a little artifact I had delivered from Firandil recently that I have been dying to test out. Have you ever seen one of these before?"

"Oh, how exquisite," said the elf. "That will be quite effective in keeping him silent."

"What does it do?" said Lord Tomas.

"Bring him down from there, dear brother, and you shall see!" cooed Emily.

There was the sound of metal shackles being fiddled with. Underneath Lady Emily's bed, Fiona clamped her hand over Jessemyn's mouth and kept the furious girl still. Tula risked peaking around the edge of the curtain.

Lord Tomas had unfastened Giles from the frame he had been shackled to and the bard now lay on the ground, unmoving. Looking down at him was the Lady Emily, a curious metal collar in her hand, a tall elven man and a hulking creature that looked like a cross between a goat and a woman. The creature had digitigrade legs, covered in dark brown fur and ending in hooves. The fur continued up her flanks, thinning over her immense buttocks to reveal thick-looking dark brown skin. The creature's torso was only sparsely furred, but for the goat tail protruding from above the cleft of her ass, leaving her stomach and her monumental breasts almost bare. The fur thickened on her shoulders and from her neck up she had the head of a strange goat, replete with two six inch horns that sprouted from above her goat-like ears.

Tula had barely taken in the strange creature's appearance when Emily knelt over Giles and fastened the collar about his neck. What followed made the day's events, from breaking into the castle to finding the duke dead to seeing what was obviously a demon, seem utterly banal.

Giles began to change. His limbs spasmed and twitched and shifted. His body seemed to pulse and warp. His body hair grew longer, his face contorted and stretched. In the course of a minute, what was once Giles became a massive short-haired hound with a pointed muzzle and whip-like tail and fur that was black over his back and head and russet-gold over his underbelly and legs. The boy had kept his mass upon changing and thus there was now a hundred and sixty pounds of unconscious dog lying in front of Lady Emily, who immediately fastened a leash to the collar, tying him to a nearby pillory, and strapped an adjustable leather muzzle over Giles' maw.

"Remarkable!" exclaimed the elf. "A doberman, albeit an overly large one! I've always been fond of that breed."

"You turned him into a dog?!" murmured Tomas.

"I do like my pets," said Emily, her voice impish with delight. The woman clapped her hands excitedly, obviously pleased with herself.

"What happens if you take the collar off?" asked Tomas, stepping away from the huge canine and walking over to the drink trolley near the table that carried his father's corpse. "Does he turn back?"