The Rivals Ch. 04: The Black Tomb

"So, no fucking for you at the Priory then." Avilia watched as the pulsing grew stronger, the light brighter. "How about before that? Did you seduce many rich widows and matrons?"

"Not really." The light dimmed, and Sligh gingerly returned the pebble to a pouch. "I wasn't in the mood after our last encounter. It was... disturbing. How about you?"

"Don't ask questions if you don't want to know the answer." She moved to the door, spear held ready, while he pulled back the latch and opened it. There was nothing behind but blackness.

Truthfully, her own winter had been boring as well. A few random encounters that ended before anything really started. A lot of time on Farflier's back, thinking. A lot of time by herself, with her pleasure-rod between her legs.

The passageway behind the door opened into a lavish chamber. Stylised figures danced around the walls, between stern guards and trees and plants picked out in coloured stones. The vaulted ceiling shimmered in the dimmed light of the glowstone. Letters in a language Avilia couldn't read made an inscription along the top of the walls.

On the dais stood a large statue of a beautiful woman in a white, flowing robe. Blocks of wood surrounded her, and the sight made Avilia gasp. Beside her, Sligh muttered, "By the Skies!"

A queen's ransom in jewellery was laid out on the blocks. The soft light gleamed on golden armbands, jewelled necklaces, intricately worked rings and headdresses. Silver figurines stood in poses of lovers, in pairs, threesomes and groups.

"It seems old Nemez and his wife enjoyed each other's company," Sligh whispered, pulling out another glowstone -- unmasked this time -- and placing it on the ground. "That inscription is quite explicit. 'My beloved, fairest and most passionate. Soft pillow for my head, warm sheath for my sword. Ispara the Beautiful, the summer sun in my autumn.'"

"He was older than she was, wasn't he?" Avilia whispered back. "I wonder whether she felt the same way about him, or wrote poetic lines about his gold instead."

They both reached into their satchels and drew out stout sacks. Leaving their satchels and the spear in the passage, they stepped into the chamber, gazing round at the treasures.

"The best part is," Sligh said, still whispering, "that this room isn't reflected in the glamour. We can take whatever we want, and no-one will ever know."

Avilia was about to answer when a melodious voice suddenly broke in. "Is that you, my love? Have you come to me at last?"

The pair of them froze. The voice -- a woman's -- had come out of the air. Their eyes went to the statue, but it stood unmoving on the dais. Then it spoke again. "My love? Answer me!"

"Answer her!" Avilia hissed at Sligh.

He seemed about to disagree, then shrugged and spoke aloud. "I am here, beloved."

The air on the dais shimmered in the dim light, then solidified. A woman appeared, tall and erect and nearly naked.

She was clearly the same woman as the statue, from the long black hair to the perfect features and the delicate hands and feet. Without the robe, her body was revealed to be soft and curvy. Her plump breasts were cupped by jewel-studded silver hands, her nipples peeping out between the fingers. Around her hips, beneath a narrow waist, she wore a wide belt of woven gold, with rich purple silk hanging down at front and rear.

"Finally, my love," she called, becoming more solid as she stepped towards Sligh. "So long I have waited to feel your embrace again. Make love to me!"

Avilia saw Sligh stare at her. She shrugged, then whispered, "What will happen if you don't?"

It seemed that they would find out. The phantom lady's voice became angry. "Do you not want me anymore? Have you been slaking your lust on your sluts again?" With the last words, her voice rose to a near-shriek. The anger was blazing in her eyes, and the air around her began to shimmer with heat.

Avilia dove back into the dark passage at that. Sligh glanced over his shoulder at her, then turned back to the shade of Ispara. "Beloved, how could you say such a thing?" He stepped towards her, hands reaching out. "You are the only woman for me. You cannot imagine how I have longed for this moment."

The shade glided down from the dais to meet him. Her form was more solid now, but Avilia could still see outlines through her. "My love," she said, "my body aches for your fingers. Come, feel me, touch me!"

Her hands took Sligh's and guided them to her breasts. Clearly she had enough physical presence for their bodies to interact. Sligh stroked the naked flesh above the silver fingers, then slid his hands down along Ispara's waist.

"Ah, your hands are so warm!" the phantom moaned. "My body needs you. Feel!" And she drew his hand down between her thighs. "Can you feel how much I want you?"

Avilia could see Sligh's body responding to the situation. Even from the doorway, the bulge growing along his thigh was clear. Ispara's shade was pressing his face between her breasts with one hand while her other guided his fingers back and forth below the purple silk. "Yes my love, it has been so long!"

As Avilia looked on, Ispara seized Sligh's cock through the soft wool of his breeches. "So long," she moaned again. Unable to decide whether she was enjoying the sight or becoming jealous, Avilia cast her eyes around the chamber.

The loot. They still needed to get the loot. As silently as she could, she stepped back inside and slid along the wall to reach the dais. Sligh and Ispara were in the middle of the chamber, Ispara on her knees with Sligh's hard cock in her hand. She opened her lips and took his swollen head into her mouth, her cheeks drawing in as she sucked. Strangely, Avilia could still see the shape of Sligh's cock through the phantom's cheeks.

She noticed him gesturing at her, and realised she'd stopped to stare. She reached down to grab an imaginary cock and thrust her hips forward lewdly. He shrugged in return, then placed his hands on Ispara's head and pressed himself forward into her mouth.

Either she must have been a practised cocksucker in life, or else being a phantom made it easier, because she let it happen without choking. Judging from the look on Sligh's face, and the occasional shudder that ran through his body, he was enjoying the experience.

Avilia turned away, pulling open her canvas sack and seizing a jewelled necklace. It was made of thick gold, decorated with stones of a deep green set in a pattern of flowers. It would fetch a nice price, she decided, as she tossed it into the sack. She was about to reach for a heavy golden cuff when she noticed something moving.

It was one of the guardians on the wall stepping out onto the dais, its stylised form white and elongated. It held a staff in its hands, which it swung wildly at Avilia.

A glance over her shoulder told her that she couldn't expect any help from Sligh. He and Ispara had traded places, and he was on his knees before her. The belt with its purple silks had vanished, as had the silver hands that had cupped her breasts. Sligh was holding on to her full buttocks and she was pulling his face against her, moaning and gasping.

Lucky bastard! Avilia thought to herself as she dropped the sack and dodged out of the way of the staff. She drew her blades and held them crossed before her, blocking the staff when it swung her way. Pressing forward, she forced the shaft to one side, trying to expose her enemy's torso. However, the guardian simply reversed the weapon and caught her a blow on the back of her head.

It was like being hit with a rock. Purple lights exploded in her head and she staggered, trying to stop the world from spinning. More by luck than design, she diverted the next blow, then she was too close to the strange creature for it to use the staff properly.

Her tongue was pulsing, and she felt something trickle down her chin and along her throat. And meanwhile Sligh is fucking with that ghost cunt! She caught a glimpse of the phantom woman pressing Slight onto his back on the stone floor. That fucker's enjoying himself!

Avilia crowded against the elongated stone body as it swung its staff aimlessly. It seemed incapable of dropping the weapon, and her own blades did little more than scratch its hard surface. She pushed with all her strength and weight, and the heavy form was forced back a step, but the effort left her gasping for air. "Sligh!" she wheezed.

His voice came back in a moan. "Busy!" A quick glance showed Avilia that Ispara was astride him, her naked body rising and falling as she rode his hips, her hands pressing down on his chest. His cock was showing through the translucent form of her body. Skies, that should be me! Avilia thought before dragging her attention back to her predicament.

The guardian was shuffling around, trying to step away from her so it could swing its staff. She kept herself pressed against its form, sliding around it, her mind racing as she searched for a way to break the deadlock.

Glancing up and around the chamber, she noticed that glyphs were lighting just below the lines of poetry that Sligh had read aloud. No, not glyphs, she realised, but images of a tall figure holding a staff. As she pressed it back, the pictures moved to parallel the motion on all four walls. When the guardian managed to step around her body, the images again followed.

Do the images simply respond to its movement? Avilia thought to herself, manoeuvring back within the arc of the staff's reach. Or do they control it? Maybe I can steer it...?

It took some delicate stepping, and dancing around the grunting forms on the floor, but eventually she managed to get the stone figure positioned where she wanted it. Her arms were starting to ache, and her head throbbed like it was going to burst. Stil, she steered the guardian into the doorway. It began to resist more fiercely there, actively trying to move away from the opening while the images on the wall flickered, as if confused. It turned this way and that, and managed to take half a step around her towards the chamber's centre.

"No you don't, you weird stone fucker!" Avilia roared. Dropping her blades, ignoring the pulsing in her head, she positioned her foot by its leg and drove her shoulder into the hard form. For a moment the heavy body remained upright, unnaturally still. A human, any living creature, would have been flailing with its arms to stop from falling.

Then she felt its balance shift and it placed one foot behind it -- on the floor of the passage, outside the chamber.

It froze. The images on the wall disappeared.

Panting, lungs dragging in mouthfuls of stale air, Avilia stepped back and watched it for a long moment. The staff was half raised, the head was turned to look over its shoulder. The figure remained motionless.

Retrieving her daggers, still keeping half a wary eye on the guardian, Avilia looked to see how Sligh was doing. While she was struggling she'd barely registered the phantom's rising cries and gasps. Now she saw that the naked form was close to a climax. Pale hands clutched at plump breasts, clawing at the pink nipples, while the hips writhed back and forth. Sligh's face was tight with concentration, his breath coming in shallow gasps. "She's... nearly... there... Fading... away...!" he grunted.

It was true, Avilia realised. The phantom was becoming less substantial. "Can you hold on long enough?" she asked. "Can you outlast her?"

"Get over here and help." The words came out in a rush. "Quick!"

She moved to their side and knelt down. The phantom didn't react to her presence at first. It was only when Avilia ran her hand over the round arse that she turned towards her. "Yes!" the phantom moaned. "Yes!"

Avilia forced her finger between Ispara's ghostly cheeks. The sensation was a strange one, cold and warm at the same time, the soft presence of naked skin there but not quite there. She could see Sligh's cock thrusting up and down, could see her own finger probing along the phantom woman's crack until it reached her hole.

She pressed against it, feeling the ring welcome her inside, and plunged in and out with the same rhythm as the cock she felt a hair's breadth away.

"More!" Ispara cried, still clawing at her breasts. Avilia ran her other hand across the ghost's hips and down her stomach to the fine down on her mound. Her fingers searched and found the other woman's button, hard and swollen above the hot, cool moistness. She rubbed two fingers over it in a tight circle while probing at the ghostly arse with her other hand.

The moans and gasps were reaching supernatural levels, battering at Avilia's ears, her bruised mind. Sligh was sweating, his eyes screwed shut and his toes bunched. The phantom form was becoming more and more ghostly.

Suddenly the screeching stopped and Ispara went rigid. "Yes, my love, yes!" Her body shuddered, fading away. "Here I come, here I come!" As she fell forward towards Sligh's chest she disappeared completely.

Sligh's cock was pulsing, the head swollen and purple. No trace of Ispara or their lovemaking remained on it. Realising that his eyes were still closed, Avilia seized his hard meat and wrapped her lips around it. A gasp reached her ears, and she looked up to see Sligh trying to sit up, his eyes fixed on her.

She thought about saying something, then decided it wasn't worthwhile. What was there to say, anyway? So she opened her mouth wide and sucked in as much of his hard cock as she could while her hands teased and tugged at the base of his shaft. His muted groans were the sexiest sound she'd ever heard, she thought. For a moment she forgot about the pain in her head.

She looked up again, fixing his gaze with hers, and sucked. His hips bucked, his head swelled up even more, and she felt him release in her mouth. He threw his head back with a loud groan, his body clenching and unclenching, and she sucked spurt after spurt from his cock.

After what seemed like an eternity he relaxed. His cock was only half soft, and she knew she could get him hard again with little effort. It was a pleasing thought, but now wasn't the time. "Get up, scholar," she chided, wiping her mouth. "This treasure isn't going to drag itself out of here."

Her head began to throb again as she rose, reminding her of her fight with the guardian. It still stood frozen in the doorway, she saw. Sligh struggled to his feet and pulled up his breeches. He was still gasping. "That was... that..." He took a deep breath, then another. "Thank you."

"You'd have done the same for me. Wait, no. You're going to do the same for me. As soon as we get out of here." She didn't resist as he pulled her towards him and kissed her fiercely.

She felt herself go weak in his arms, her legs buckling under her and her head spinning. Opening her eyes, she found him gazing at her, a worried look in his face. "It's not poison, despite what some women say," he said softly, "and my kisses have never made maidens swoon. Are you wounded?"

She wanted to say she was fine, had never felt better, and all she wanted was to be kissed some more. But the words wouldn't form on her tongue, and she realised that what she really wanted was to puke.

He helped her to a corner and held one hand pressed against her stomach as she heaved. It helped. "One day," she muttered when she was empty and Sligh handed her the flask of water that -- of course -- he carried, "one day we'll have a normal fuck."

He grinned. "Normal would be boring. Next time will probably be on an exploding volcano. Or falling out of the sky."

"Don't make me laugh!" She winced. Her head felt as if it might float away from her body, leaving only the throbbing pain behind.

She sat with her back against the wall while Sligh filled the sacks with loot. Gold, gems, cunningly worked silver, the erotic statues. When he was done he hefted them. "These should hold," he grinned. "Do you feel strong enough to carry one?"

She did, but her arms disagreed. So Sligh picked up one bag and put his other arm around her waist. "Come on. I'll come back for the other sack later."

The trek out of the mausoleum was a nightmarish blur. Avilia's head throbbed, her stomach churned, and her feet didn't want to do as they were told. By the time they made it to the horizontal shaft Sligh had to tie a rope around her waist and drag her behind him. He used the same rope to lift her out of the pit. She was too busy throwing up to see watch him climb out first.

A rest, more water, and then he was guiding her out of the stone structure and into the fresh air. Deep breaths seemed to help, and by the time Sligh guided her to where she'd left Farflier she was feeling nearly human again. Human enough to need something stronger than water.

She shared the flask of gutburner that she kept in her saddlepack with Sligh. He sipped and grimaced, then took another sip. "Go easy with this," he told her, handing the flask back. "I'll go get the rest of the loot. Be ready to leave. Someone might have heard that shrieking."

She leaned against him and kissed him. His lips and tongue tasted of the gutburner. "I'm looking forward to you making me shriek like that," she murmured. "You owe me."

He gave a soft laugh and held her in his arms. "I should strip you naked here and now, if you weren't injured, and the Skies take the rest of the gold!"

She was about to tell him what a good idea she thought that was when the gutburner decided to leave her gut. It burned just as much on the way out, she discovered.

Despite her protests, he lifted her onto Farflier's back and strapped her to the saddle. The roc eyed him balefully, but didn't attack. Sligh divided the contents of the sack between her packs to spread the weight. "Are you sure he'll be able to fly? The garrison has a pair of rocs of its own. You'll need to outrun them."

Something tugged at her memory, and she waived at the two other rocs sitting nearby. "Diversion," she mumbled. "Go. I'll wait."

"No you won't," he replied firmly. "If anyone comes, you go. You're in no condition to fight, and I'd be better off without having to worry about you. Promise me you'll leave."

Taken aback by the fierceness in his voice, she muttered something that was convincing enough for him to leave her alone. She watched for a moment as he turned away and headed back, then she slumped in her saddle and closed her eyes.

Voices nearby recalled her to the present. Her head felt swollen and heavy, throbbing where the staff had struck. Sligh was still gone. Looking up, she saw shapes moving in the dark. Someone held a glowstone up, and the light gleamed off steel.

They were moving towards the mausoleum. That was bad, some part of her mind was telling her, but she couldn't remember why. They'd already passed her, not seeing her, not caring about the three rocs.

Then Sligh's voice rang out in the darkness. "Come on then, try and catch me!" A bright light flared up, then another a dozen yards away, and the soldiers nearby cried aloud in shock.

They started to run towards him though. Metal jingled and rattled, men cursed, someone was shouting orders. It all made very little sense to Avilia. What was she doing here? She'd said she would leave. She'd promised. It seemed important to keep her promise.

Farflier's feathers were soft beneath her hands. She was about to give his reins the shake that would send him soaring into the sky when she remembered something. A plan. Preparation. A whistle in a pocket.

Wings rustled and beat, then two great shapes launched themselves into the air. Avilia waited for a count of five hundred -- or perhaps it was five, or maybe a hundred -- then she guided Farflier up. The surging motion sent her head spinning again, and she had a moment of panic before she remembered that Sligh had strapped her to the saddle.