Uncertain Future Ch. 07

Lara woke up when it was well into the morning. Light shone in through a window on the wall by the bed. The fireplace had gone cold sometime during the night, leaving the room to the chilly late autumn air. And yet Lara wasn't cold. Tarok's body had kept her warm, and his arms still draped over her. She couldn't help but sighing satisfyingly when she opened her eyes.

The steady soft snoring told Lara Tarok hadn't woken up yet. She craned her neck to look at him and was reminded of how he looked two days before: calm and serene. His sleeping face had the tranquility of a well-rested man, but today there was something else, which, judging by his curled lips, seemed like contentment.

Lara looked at his chest. She didn't notice it last night due to darkness and other 'distractions', but the bandage was replaced. Someone had done a better job than her since the gauze was wrapped tighter and no blood had seeped through.

Another thing Lara didn't notice about Tarok until now was that his head was full of tangled black, coarse, thick hair that flowed down to the back of his neck, forming a sort of mane. The mane extended onto his back, where it morphed into the thin layer of black fur of his body. Protruding atop his head like two towers in the middle of a coal-colored forest was the pair of horns. Lara wondered what they would feel like if she touched them. She had touched a stag antler and really loved the velvety texture of it; Tarok's horns, on the other hand, seemed smooth. If she extended her hand just a little, she could give them a feel. Lara tentatively raised her hand.

But what if he woke up? She drew her hand back.

It's just a quick touch. It couldn't do any harm, and it wouldn't bother Tarok in any way. She lifted her hand again, aiming for the midsection of his left horn. When her hand was an inch away from it, Lara suddenly had a funny feeling: the feeling of being watched. She instinctively looked down to find Tarok's eyes following her outstretched fingers.

"Eeeee," Lara shrieked and jolted. She almost felt off Tarok, but his hands were quicker and they caught her.

"I'm sorry, Ididntmeantowakeyou," Lara jabbered. She froze as Tarok held her waist to stop her from falling.

"What are you doing?" he asked after a yawn. He sat up while still holding Lara and relaxed his grip. He laid her on one of his thick muscular thighs.

"Nothing," mumbled Lara. She hid her face from his by looking at her lap.

"Come on, tell me, I'm curious. What are you planning to do?" asked Tarok. He patted her back in a friendly manner to coax her answer.

Lara slowly peered up and saw his toothy grin. She relaxed a bit.

"I'm just curious about your horns."

"Curious? Did you try to touch them?"

"Yes. It was dumb. Please forget about it."

But he didn't. Instead, he tipped his head forward, presenting her his pair of ivory horns.

"Touch it," he said.

"Um..."

Lara didn't expect him to agree to her silly curiosity this easily. She raised her hand gingerly and touched Tarok's horns. They were indeed smooth, like polished wood. Her hand drifted downwards to his thick rough hair, and she stroked it lightly. She remembered how much he enjoyed her doing this last night. Soon enough, Tarok began to hum satisfyingly. Lara couldn't help but giggled when she saw the broad happy smile on his face. She moved down to his neck and continued stroking.

Tarok's hands circled Lara's hip, and he lifted her up so that her face was on his level. He pressed his lips to her and gave Lara a gentle morning kiss. It lasted a minute before Lara pulled away, her glassy chestnut eyes met his blueness. She spoke first, "How are you today? Does the wound hurt anymore?"

"Just a dull pain now, nothing I can't deal with," said Tarok absentmindedly since his attention was entirely on her face. He had been with many other girls, some slaves, mostly paid whores, and he had never paid much attention to how they looked. Now he couldn't get his eyes off this young girl. He liked how beautiful she looked, how soft her skin felt, and especially, how lovely she smelled.

"Lara, can I ask you something?" Tarok asked.

Lara raised her eyebrows. "Yes?"

"Do you mind..." Tarok paused, his lips twitched. "...if I, um, hold you?"

Lara thought that was a strange thing to ask, but it was even stranger to see how Tarok said it: he looked nervous when he asked. He's not the same cold and imperious Tarok as before, and Lara decided that she liked this Tarok much more than the old one.

She nodded and smiled reassuringly to set him at ease. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck, as his body was too wide for her to fully encircle, and nestled her head on the left side of his neck. Tarok in turn wound his arms around her back and waist and pulled her close to him, her lithe little body fully enveloped in his warm embrace. With Lara's head right beside him, Tarok couldn't resist digging his nose into Lara's hair and held it there, indulging himself in her heavenly scent. She did not object. The little nudges he sometimes gave her with his muzzle when he sniffed gave Lara delicious tingles. Being so close to Tarok, Lara could feel the steady thumping of his heartbeat against her own.

Lara closed her eyes. The last time Lara was hugged was during her childhood, and Tarok was big enough to make her felt like a child in his embrace. She reminisced about her youth. Back when her mother still found it suitable to pamper her little daughter, she would hold Lara at night, singing lullabies or telling tales about pixies and dragons and princesses. Lara missed those days. She missed the stories, even the boring ones about the sages of yore.

Lara opened her eyes. She wondered what was going on in Tarok's mind. He had sat still the whole time. It had been a long hug, not that she's complaining though, Lara had enjoyed his embrace very much.

"Tarok, is everything alright?" Lara whispered, she didn't need to speak up as his bovine ear was right above her face.

Her question gave Tarok a barely noticeable start as if her question had pulled him from wherever he was at and back to the bedroom.

"I'm fine. Can you give me a minute more?" said Tarok after a pause.

"No no, that's not what I meant," said Lara quickly, "It's just—you're so quiet."

Another moment of silence. "I can talk. What do you want to hear?" whispered Tarok by Lara's ear. She felt his hot breath flowing down her ear. Lara shivered.

"If you want, I'd like to hear about your mother."

Tarok stayed silent and made no detectable movements. Lara became afraid she had intruded too much, she was about to apologize when Tarok moved backwards so that he could lean against the headboard. He hugged her tighter, her modest breast squished against his hard, masculine chest, and then he relaxed. His hands caressed her back, causing Lara to squirm joyfully. He began his story.

"My mother was the daughter of farmers who lived very far from here, in the north. I didn't know much about her parents, just that they were always poor. When mother was about to be married to a son of another farmer in the village, the non-humans attacked. Goblins, orcs, ogres, minotaurs and many others. Their territory had been gradually cut back to the mountainous region by the migrating humans for centuries now, and they had grown more and more restless. Finally, the most combative of them banded together and organized raids against human settlements. Their goal was not to steal but to drive the humans away. Mother's village was one of the first targets.

"Mother was captured. Her parents didn't survive. The non-humans had no use for humans, they just wanted to scare them off their lands. Except for the minotaurs. They wanted female slaves. All females in a minotaur tribe live under the protection of the chieftain and are separated from the bulls. Breeding is not a right, it must be earned from battles, therefore only the strongest can produce offspring. It was a great honor for a male to be allowed to touch a female and breed, and the females know it too. They are an extremely proud kind, even more than the gods, one might say. They refuse to touch any males who haven't proved themselves. There is no such thing called love in the minotaur race, they don't pair up and start families like humans. The god Palpinos didn't create them that way. There is only breeding. That's why minotaurs are always fighting, against others or themselves. Doesn't matter. They must fight. It's in their blood.

"Breeding isn't easy, since the females aren't available. Yet they still have the urge for it. The primal urge that even constant bloodshed can't sate entirely. As a result, many inferior minotaurs used whores or captured slaves to pleasure themselves since they can't have a suitable partner. Mother was captured and enslaved."

Tarok stopped to gather his breath. Lara hugged him tighter.

"Minotaurs chieftains usually tried to prevent slave-raiding as it caused outrages among other races, but this specific chieftain didn't care. He regulated how the slaves were given out too, long as he could get his hand on them any time he wanted. He saw mother and wanted her first, that same night she was struck by Melisza's spell. Melisza and her mentor, Talina, was staying with the tribe. Talina promised to use alchemy to give the minotaurs' weapons powerful enchantments in exchange for them letting her study some lightning-discharging stones in their territory. Talina had discovered a way for species to mix and create cross-breed children, yet she didn't tell a soul about it. I don't know why. Somehow, Melisza learned about Talina's secret spell, and that night the witch offered to put it on mother, lying that it was a 'calming' spell that would help to put her mind at ease for what would come later that night. And mother was desperate enough to agree.

"Of course, the spell didn't work that way. Mother still suffered at the hand of the chieftain. Months went by and nothing changed until she was visibly pregnant. The minotaurs couldn't explain it. Difference species can't mix and breed with each other, and there was no other male human for miles. When Talina heard about it, she immediately knew what had happened. She went to confront Melisza about it, but her student was quicker. Their tent exploded in a giant electric-storm with Talina in it. Mother saw Melisza flew out of the carnage and disappeared.

"The tribesmen didn't know what to do with mother. Besides Talina and Melisza, nobody else knows about the spell. They regarded her as some unholy curse delivered to them by some trickster god, and they didn't dare to kill her as that would give some reasons for said god to punish them. So, she was banished from the tribe, forced to leave the mountain, alone and pregnant.

"Lucky for mother, she was saved by a few dwarfs who had decided to stay out of the fighting, given some supplies, and guided out of the mountains. On her way, she approached an advancing human army, sent to crush the non-humans raiders. They thought she was a refugee, took her in and sent her back to the nearest walled city. She stayed there until I was born. Then she couldn't stay anymore. Words of a terrifyingly deformed infant soon spread, and she had to run away with me. She ran into the woods, found an abandoned cottage and made it her new home.

"I couldn't fathom how mother managed to survive the first few years, but she did. Being a farmer's daughter helped, I guess. She fed herself and me by working on the farm that she made, and occasionally she went to a nearby village to trade, pretending to be from another village.

"I grew up in that place. Mother treated me well, like a true son. Life in the forest was slow and simple. I worked the earth, she sowed and grew plants. When I was big enough, I began hunting. I had to take care not to be seen by other humans, mother always reminded me. I didn't even realize I was different from a human until she pointed out the growing horns. Occasionally, I saw some humans foraging in the forest, but I stayed out of sight.

"I was happy on that farm, until my sixteenth winter. It was especially harsh, and mother started coughing. During a hounding stormy night, she had a very violent fit. She went to bed and didn't stop coughing. I tried to hold her, try to make it stop. But it was useless. The coughing stopped the next morning, along with her breaths. She was barely forty, and her hair had already turned silver."

He paused. Lara realized that her eyes were wet.

"I was lost. I didn't know what to do. Mother was the only person I ever knew. After I'd buried her, I couldn't stay in that cottage anymore. I had to leave. I am a mintotaur, and mother said my kind was not welcomed among humans. So, I did what made sense to me then: go back to the mountains and find my kind there. I didn't know the name of the chieftain that sired me nor the name of his tribe, but that didn't matter. I journeyed north. Eventually, I found one of the surviving tribes from the war. They were small and there weren't many males. I asked to join them, yet they looked at me with suspicion. Minotaur is a very tribal race, they distrusted all outsiders, and I am without a tribe. Besides, I couldn't understand the language they spoke. It was utterly hopeless. I had to leave before they turned on me.

"The war lasted for many years until the blood toll was too much for both sides. The leaders of the nonhumans and the human king agreed to a peace treaty. Many nonhumans were scattered during the war and ended up living with humans after peace was restored. Took them enough killing to learn they could live with each other. And fight with each other too. Many mixed-race mercenary bands formed from the war, and I joined one of them. Switched from one band to the next until I ended up in the one I'm leading. You already know what happened next."

Tarok stopped. He ended the long hug, letting Lara dropped back on his thigh. While he spoke, his voice was calm and restrained, and when he had finished, his face was serene and strangely distant, as if his mind had traveled a thousand miles away and decades back, and only now had begun to return.

"Do you miss her, Tarok?" asked Lara. She looked up at him, her chin on his sternum.

"At first. But after a few years, not anymore. I haven't thought about her for a very long time. But I remembered, very rarely, she came to me in dreams. In one dream, mother was working in the garden, she smiled and waved at me when I returned from a hunting trip, carrying an elk. And I would smile back, knowing she was glad to see her son returned safely. Then, it was gone," Tarok said, his sprucecone-size thumb lazily caressed Lara nape, "In my earliest memories, when the years of hardship hadn't caught up with her youth yet, she was beautiful," he looked down at Lara, "like you."

Lara's face was about to burst into flame when a loud bang from the door cut through the morning stillness like a knife through a curtain. Lara jumped at the sudden noise and Tarok reflexively pressed her to his chest possessively.

"Tarok, are you in there?" came the voice of Erika. Both Lara and Tarok relaxed.

"Yes, I'm on my bed. What do you need?" Tarok called out loud enough for his secretary to hear.

"Me? Nothing much, except for a warmer fireplace and a new bed. But it's about the men. It's morning now, and they are wondering what will happen next. I know you need to rest, so just tell me what to say to them."

Tarok brows furrowed, he thought for a second, then said, "Tell them I need a week to return to full health, so no fighting in the meanwhile. They can rest for today and I will personally instruct them to rebuild the defensive perimeter of this fort tomorrow."

"Alright. I tell them that." A moment of silence, then Erika spoke again, "And by the way, do you happen to know where Lara is?"

"Yes. She's in here," announced Tarok. He felt the girl on his lap squirmed.

Another moment of silence. "Well, tell her when she's ready, I'd like to see her in my office." Then Erika walked away.

"Is something wrong, Lara?" Tarok asked when he looked at her. She had buried her face in his big muscular chest.

"You...just tell Erika that?" came Lara's muffled shrill squeak between his pecs.

"Tell her what? You're here with me? Of course, what else should I say to her," asked Tarok with genuine surprise in his voice.

He couldn't understand why Lara was embarrassed, and Lara didn't respond.

He definitely didn't get it.

Lara disentangled from Tarok and stood up on the floor.

"I...I should go. Erika's waiting," said Lara. The glowing redness on her face was still evident. In the clear morning light, he saw the strawberry color of her cheeks for the first time, and, to Tarok's astonishment, his heart jumped in his rib cage and it sent blood pumping to where Lara would find "inappropriate".

"Yes, you should," Tarok said, surreptitiously putting his hands on his crotch. Luckily, Lara was busy putting on her clothes and didn't see.

"Wait, Lara, one more thing," exclaimed Tarok as Lara turned to the door. She turned around.

"Can I see you tonight?"

Lara said yes before she even thought about it.

---***---

Lara didn't go to Erika right away. She took a bath first, this time she purposefully wore the honeysuckle oil. Her mother had used it to cure light wounds and minor burns, and Lara had been using it in her bath simply because it was available. She continued to use it into adulthood as a habit, if someone had asked Lara "Why honeysuckle?", she wouldn't be able to answer affirmatively. Until now.

Erika was alone in her study behind her desk when Lara entered. The old woman looked up from her notes and watched as Lara walked in.

"Good morning," greeted Lara as she sat down on her usual spot, facing the old woman.

"Morning, Lara. And I believe you had a good one, too?"

"Wha—what made you said that?" exclaimed Lara.

"You look much better than the last time you came out of Tarok's room. And giddier, I would say."

Lara stared at the table. She stayed silent and instead let her blushing do the talking.

"I went to find you first thing in the morning," said Erika, clearly amused with her correct guess. "You weren't in the servant bedchamber, your bed wasn't touched. So, I went to Tarok next. It's a surprise to learn you were with him this morning."

"Why?"

"Because he had never slept with any girl before."

"What? No. I saw a girl on his bed once, and I was with him two times before."

"And did you stay with him until morning? No. No one ever did. He calls his slave to bed, satisfies himself, then tells them to leave. Always. He sleeps alone in his bed. Until today."

Lara's mouth was agape. She couldn't believe what she just heard.

Erika leaned forward and observed Lara as she spoke to the young priestess. "Tell me, did anything happen between you and him in the forest. Anything you haven't told me?"

"I'm sorry. I thought it wasn't important," said Lara with guilt. Then she told Erika how she and Tarok spent that night in the woods together. When she was done, Erika's inquiring gaze on Lara seemed to intensify.

"You're not here long enough to know this, but Tarok genuinely cared for those under his protection. His men hold him in high regard. Some had been with Tarok ever since he'd taken over. And through years of working for him, I respect him too. He was fair in his dealings, and pay is usually on time, although his taking up the slavery business put a sour note in my opinion of him. He shouldn't have listened to those southern merchants. Northerners don't need slaves," Erika said, and, realizing she was ranting, feigned coughing.

"Anyway, I want to ask you a question, and be honest with me. What do you assume is Tarok's opinion of you?"