The Reaver and the Nobles

Author's Note: This is another standalone entry in my sword & sorcery series featuring the futa warrior Krajali. For the full context of Krajali's transformation, you can read 'The Reaver and the Priestess,' but it is not necessary to enjoy this installment.

**

Krajali stalked through the jungle, axe and shield at the ready. Colorful birds shrieked overhead. Long snakes dangled from the vines, coming within inches of her pale, sweaty skin. A frog as red as her fiery hair bounded into her path, only to gurgle and leap back as a blue-feathered hawk dove down from the canopy.

Death was the true ruler of that jungle, and yet none of those beasts around her were as dangerous as the one she hunted. As her keen green eyes darted about, she pressed deeper into the jungle, ducking beneath a veil of spiderwebs and past an overturned tree covered with bright blue mushrooms. Though she knew little of those lands, Krajali was all but certain that such mushrooms were poisonous.

Nearly everything in that damned place seemed to deadly in one way or another. The merchant who'd hired her had warned her that even the mice in the jungle could be venomous.

Her brow furrowed at the sight of a tuft of white hair at the base of a tree. Creeping closer, Krajali stowed her axe to pick up the little tuft. The thick, coarse fur was just like the other specimens she'd found elsewhere in the jungle, and an exact match for the descriptions given to her by the merchant. No other beast within that jungle bore such a snow-white coat.

Krajali was thus still on the right trail. Readying her axe once more, she continued her careful hunt, eyes darting about for tracks. After a few moments she spotted not a track, but a victim of the great beast. A colossal serpent rested in a clearing before her, its head missing. A thick puddle of blood spread beneath the corpse.

Every muscle of her athletic body tensed as she crept closer and tapped her fingers to the blood. It was still warm.

At the far side of the clearing, she found the snake's ruptured head. Its killer had not lingered to eat the unfortunate snake. Her quarry had killed for pleasure or convenience...just as men could do. It was little wonder that this horrific beast had been such a scourge upon the trade routes near the jungle.

The beast's reign of terror would not last for much longer. Krajali had sworn a vow to return with the beast's head and claim the bounty...and she had not once broken a vow.

Following the trail of blood left by the snake's head, she brushed through a veil of vines and ferns. More blood droplets led her to a small stream, where she found the massive, vaguely-human footprints of her prey. Krajali's skin crawled as she imagined the size of a beast capable of leaving such tracks.

The creature's size made it a worthy foe, however. To hunt down a hungry wolf or a meager jackal would have earned her no honor or accolades. True glory only rested at the ends of the most dangerous paths.

Following the muddy footprints, she spotted a broken spear. A bit further up the stream was a net, within which flopped a dozen fishes. A glance around confirmed the presence of no fishermen. The great beast had completely ignored the easy meal offered by those trapped fish.

Granting those wriggling creatures a bit of mercy, she tore open the net and tossed them into the stream before continuing on. A few moments later she found the fisherman's severed arm, clutching a little iron knife that had been of no use against the great beast.

Krajali glared at the jungle ahead of her. It was a maze of bright flowers and leaves, a labyrinth of color and venom. Nothing moved within that verdant expanse.

That stillness caused her to ready her shield and axe. Every other section of the jungle had teemed with the movement of birds, snakes, and frogs. The utter stillness of the trees before her all but confirmed the presence of her prey.

Further confirmation arrived a heartbeat later as a mangled, bloody corpse erupted from the tree-line. The grisly projectile would have slammed into her muscular body, were it not for a sharp step to the side. As the corpse thudded to the muddy ground, the white-furred horror burst from the wall of ferns and vines.

Even hunched over, the pale ape towered over her by several feet. Blood stained its white fur and gleaming, dagger-like fangs. Bits of gore and flesh clung to its colossal fists. The ape reared its head back and unleashed a fierce howl that set her ears ringing and forced Krajali back a step. Heavy fists slammed against its chest, beating its fur as a bard would pound upon a drum.

"Come on," Krajali growled. "Let us see if the stories of your fury hold any truth to them."

The beast's beady black eyes erupted with rage. It bounded forth on all fours, the ground shuddering with the impact of its limbs upon the ground. A mighty leap sent the creature sailing directly towards her. Guided by instincts honed by years of warfare, Krajali waited until the last possible moment before pivoting to the side. As she spun, her axe lashed out and tore into the creature's left leg, cutting to the bone.

The pale ape howled and landed in a sprawling heap. Reckless and proud as she was, Krajali was not about to rush blindly at a flailing beast. Shield raised, she held her ground and backed away, allowing the ape to right itself.

Hateful eyes swung back to her. Another fierce leap and another deft sidestep, and her axe cleaved open its other leg. Growling and huffing, the creature turned about once more, its blood staining the blanket of flowers beneath it.

For all of its ferocity, the creature had learned quickly, and did not make another reckless leap. Instead it pawed at the ground and ambled slowly over towards her, mouth agape to display its fierce teeth.

Krajali flinched and darted to her left, baiting the creature into making a wild lunge. It thundered forward and she slashed with her axe. The weapon struck true, cleaving into the creature's shoulder. The resulting howl echoed through the jungle, and a swipe of its massive paws thudded into her chest.

Her cry of pain entwined with its roar of triumph as she sailed through the air. Krajali slammed into the undergrowth, snapping branches and vines on her way down. Through the grace of the gods she managed to keep hold of her axe and shield; she righted herself just as the beast charged.

Rather than stand her ground, Krajali leapt over a mushroom-covered log. Her mind, though addled by the thrill of battle, clung to the merchant's warnings about the poisons of the jungle. Hoping her instincts about the mushrooms had been correct, she turned back around as the ape closed in.

A wild hack of her axe tore at the rotting log, sending a spray of splinters and blue mushrooms into the creature's face. Several of the bits flew into its roaring mouth. The beast brought both fists down upon the log, shattering it completely.

Krajali darted backwards, raising her shield just in time to absorb a brutal swipe that sent a painful jolt through her shoulder. The ape growled and sniffed the air. Its next few steps grew slow and clumsy. Those beady black eyes darted about, as if addled by the mushrooms it had inhaled.

The next swipe was a clumsy one, easily deflected by her shield. After another swaying step, the ape let out a low, weary growl.

The sound turned to a sharp yelp as her axe found the beast's skull. Four more savage swings finally ended the beast's twitches. Panting and swaying, Krajali staggered back and rested against a fern-shrouded boulder.

Once she caught her breath, she glanced down to assess her injuries. A bit of blood marred her bare stomach, but a brushing of her fingers through the mess confirmed that it was not her own. More blood covered her crocodile-skin skirt, and bits of white fur clung to the iron-reinforced leather sash covering her breasts.

Wiping the blood from her pale skin, she winced at a bruise inflicted by the wild swipe that had collided with her chest. All in all, a small price to pay for such a worthy kill.

It took three savage chops of her axe to sever the beast's head. Krajali grinned down at the massive prize, her mind already imagining the pile of jade pieces she'd earn from that desperate merchant.

**

Two days later, Krajali strutted out of the merchant's tent with a wild grin on her face and a pouch of jade coins in her hand. Before her sprawled the trade outpost at the edge of the jungle. Hunters sold the pelts of fierce beasts, foragers traded away herbal remedies, and robed priests perused the stalls in search of components for holy rituals.

Ringing the outpost was a low wall of wooden stakes that would have done little to ward off a group of determined raiders. The only thing deterring such raids was the vast, motley army of mercenaries, hunters, slavers, and treasure-seekers who had swarmed to the jungle's edge in search of jade and glory. Krajali herself had come with that horde of greedy men and women after the fall of Heskor. Rather than remain in the city and bask in her accolades, she had struck out on the open road once more. A fierce wanderlust afflicted her soul, taking her from one adventure to the next.

Once she'd had her fill of wine and lust within the outpost, she'd find some new far-off vista to explore. The jade pieces she'd earned from the hunt were but a means to that end.

Drumbeats rose from the large pavilion home to the bards and wine-merchants. Grinning, she turned in that direction, only to frown as an armed man stepped into her path.

It was far from the first time a fool had challenged Krajali during her time in the outpost. Many glory-seeking warriors had sought to duel her to earn a name for themselves. None had succeeded...and none had died, either. Not wanting to ruin her prospects of staying in that outpost, she'd not claimed the lives of any of her challengers. A few of her would-be challengers had turned into drinking companions; the warmth of the unusual friendships had helped fend off the icy grip of solitude.

The man before her was a cut above the usual fools, however. Rather than the haphazard armor worn by most of the frontier scum, he wore a long coat of wolf-hide, reinforced with iron rings. Upon his hip was a curved blade with a hilt carved in the shape of a hissing serpent. Protecting his head was an open-faced helmet from which dangled strips of snake-skin. Judging by his tanned skin and thick braided hair, he was a man from the nearby lands of Tevshar. The sword-shaped tattoos beneath each eye marked him as an oathbound soldier to a high-caste noble.

"You are certainly the fanciest looking man who has challenged me," Krajali said with a grunt, looking him up and down.

The man's lean, powerful build was a suitable match for her own, and she suspected a man with that physique might make for a good fuck. Of course, a proud soldier like him would be unlikely to submit to Krajali's particular....gifts. And yet she did not need to conquer a lover in order to enjoy herself, and she'd happily yield to a man who was worthy enough.

"I am not here for a challenge," he said in a low, rumbling voice. "You are Krajali, yes? The She-Tiger of Nalhara? The Witch-Wolf of Far Tarhaal? The one who seized the breach at Heskor? The warrior blessed by the Harvest-Mother Vathori?"

His dark eyes gleamed a little as he described Krajali's most recent exploits. Rumors and whispers of her lustful conquests had clearly spread, resulting in even this stranger seemingly knowing of her divinely-gifted cock.

"Aye. Though I have many other names in many other lands. So what do you seek, other than to remind me of my past triumphs?"

"My employer has need of your skills."

Krajali gave him another appraising glance, noting his scars and callouses. That oathbound warrior was a seasoned fighter, and if he served a noble, then surely his master had enough jade to hire a small army of mercenaries. What use did such a noble have for Krajali, then?

Intrigued by the request, she gave a nod, and the mysterious soldier led her to the far side of the trading outpost. After a regretful glance at the pavilion that was home to the drummers and wine-merchants, she followed him towards a tent guarded by four more tattooed Tevshari soldiers.

A haze of sweet smoke greeted Krajali's nostrils as she slipped inside the tent. Within were piles of cushions, upon which reclined a young woman. She was slender, with skin a few shades lighter than that of her guards'. Draped over her lithe body was a sleek silken dress that left one shoulder exposed. The bright blue dress was so well-made that the cost of that garment could have easily hired a dozen mercenaries. Adorning her wrists and ankles were glittering silver bands adorned with sapphires.

The woman was a damned walking treasury.

Clutched within her slender hands was a pipe from which wafted blue smoke. The woman's hazel eyes were bloodshot and glazed-over, a clear product of whatever drug she was inhaling. Around those hazel eyes were patches of dark blue makeup: another sign of Tevshari nobility. The blue smoke clung to her body like a veil, nearly obscuring her pretty, slender face. Her light brown hair was long, sleek, and silky: pulled back in a loose ponytail behind her head.

Inked upon her neck was a tattoo of a serpent, which further confirmed that she was a high-caste noble of Tevshar.

"The famous Krajali," the woman drawled, her heavy-lidded eyes looking the mercenary up and down. "Care for a puff?"

The noblewoman extended the pipe. Krajali did love to indulge in certain substances during celebrations, but never during a negotiation, so she shook her head.

"Really?" the noblewoman asked, her soft laugh flooding the tent. "I have heard so many stories about your legendary appetites. And you won't even indulge in a bit ofoviskaa?"

In all of her travels, Krajali had never even heard of such a substance. She crouched down on a cushion across from the woman and raised an eyebrow.

"I came here because your soldier said you had an offer. I shall save the hedonistic indulgences for after I've completed the task you've set before me...assuming that it is worthy of my time." She cocked her head. "But first I would know your name, for I prefer to know who I am dealing with."

"I am Zohreh, of the Third-Circle Caste of Tevshar. I have the honor of being the Winter-Bride to Raskaan, of the Second-Circle Caste of Tevshar."

The array of titles and castes meant little to Krajali, for her own people of Irajka cared only for merit and skill, not blood or caste. Yet it was clear enough that the woman and her husband were prominent members of Tevshari society, so Krajali had to wonder why she was so far out on the borderlands. Usually the Tevshari left the frontier to the commoners or those of lower noble rank.

Krajali glanced around, seeing no sign of Zohreh's husband.

"The fact that you are here alone, without your higher-caste husband, leads me to believe that your request involves him somehow."

"Perceptive indeed. Though I suppose you would have to be, in order to hunt down a man-eating ape in these foul jungles; that's all everyone has been talking about since we've arrived."

Zohreh took another long puff from her pipe. Blue embers danced through the air.

"My husband has a cousin with a bad habit of gambling on the fighting pits, which resulted in the fool incurring a large debt to some very unsavory individuals. As a result, his debtors placed him in chains, planning to sell him off to the salt-mines of Zalhum. My husband Raskaan, who is helpful to a fault, decided to step in and negotiate on his cousin's behalf. When the negotiations soured, the criminals kidnapped my husband along with his cousin. Now both of them are bound for Zalhum in chains."

From what Krajali had heard of the salt-mines of the south, such a fate was not one she would have wished upon her most hated foe. Even that foolish cousin did not deserve such a grim, harsh, and toil-filled existence.

Krajali's pride flared at the notion of undertaking such a noble quest. Given the small fortune she'd earned from slaying that ape, she had little need of more jade for some time...and was tempted to offer her services free of charge.

"Other travelers and merchants confirmed that the slavers' party traveled via barge down the Nightdance River," said the soldier standing behind Krajali. "The dry season has weakened the rivers and delayed the progress of many boats downstream, so we should have time to intercept them before they make it to Zalhum."

"And the price for the freedom of your husband and his cousin?" Krajali asked Zohreh.

"Two hundred jade pieces and your choice of the finest horse from my family stables if my husband is freed."

Krajali raised an eyebrow, noticing that the woman had neglected to mention Raskaan's cousin.

"And the cousin?"

"I care not for his fate. Let him rot in a salt-mine or drown in the river, or may he take a spear to the gut during the rescue attempt. He deserves far worse for dragging my husband into this mess."

Krajali's pride would prevent her from leaving behind even that loathsome man to such a fate. The foolish cousin would be freed right alongside Raskaan, regardless of Zohreh's distaste for the man.

"A tempting offer," Krajali said, leaning back a little. "And yet I cannot help but wonder why you would seek my help, when you have oathbound soldiers at your command."

"They are well-trained. Disciplined and well-honed for parade duty or clashes of phalanxes. But they are not used to the ugly, dirty warfare of the frontier. Bloodshed in the night, daggers in the dark...such is not their path. They will assist in the rescue, of course, but I would rather have a seasoned mercenary like you to lead the assault."

A glance back at the soldiers revealed no ire or jealousy upon their tattooed faces. They either did not care at all about being upstaged by a mercenary, or they were so loyal to their mistress that they dared not show their disapproval. Whatever the case, such well-trained men would have their uses if it came to an open battle.

"So be it," Krajali said, rising to her feet. "I accept your offer. Two hundred jade pieces and a horse of my choosing, for the freedom of your husband."

"Excellent," Zohreh said with a slow, lopsided smile as she took another puff from her pipe. "We leave at dawn."

**

Eager for a bit of revelry before setting off across the savannah, Krajali headed back to the main pavilion for a bit of wine and song. A fistful of jade pieces bought her a bottle of wine. Another handful of jade for the bards earned her an hour of songs; she chose an array of jaunty tunes to take her mind from the grim work to come. Though she was not much of a dancer, she lingered at one of the wooden tables, tapping a scarred hand against the wood.

Around her, drunk merchants and treasure-seekers swayed to the beat of the drums. Scantily-clad dancing slaves writhed atop another table, their bodies shimmying along with the music. Before agreeing to that quest, she'd thought about taking a lover for the night to celebrate her successful hunt, but she dared not risk such a dalliance delaying her departure.

Instead she was content to sit back, hum along with the songs, and cast an occasional leering glance over at the silk-clad dancers. Moonlight gleamed off their anklets and bracelets. Sweat rippled along lithe, tanned bodies.

The scent of sweet smoke caught her attention and she glanced over her shoulder to see Zohreh leaning against a dead tree, taking another long puff ofoviskaa from her fancy pipe.

"You would do well to dump your supplies of that drug into the river before we head out," Krajali grunted. "The distinctive scent of it may give us away once we close in on our husband's captors."