The Elfmaid's Curse (The Elfmaid Trilogy Book 1) (11 page)

            "What?" Horse said. "You're not joking. You mean it."

            He looked shocked. Odd, because he made jokes about her doing Fulgar on a daily basis. It might've even been his teasing that put the thoughts in her head, and then got her to seriously consider that option.

            "Yes," she said. "I'm trying to get him off my ass. What's your problem?"

            "My problem? You want to know what my problem is?" Horse asked, reining his horse around to head away from her. "I'm your friend. Really, your only friend in this damn caravan, yet you reject me and are seriously considering letting a man you claim to hate have his way with you."

            Horse sank his spurs in so hard his mount whinnied and took off running. Danica just stared open-mouth. He wasn't joking. After a moment she followed.

            Danica was not able to get close to Horse for the rest of the day. He rode ahead or dropped behind whenever she drew near. Quite irritating, and oddly distressing. Danica didn't like how his rejection affected her inside. The prospect of losing him as a friend frightened her.

            "I hate my life," she said, scowling at the heavens.

            The caravan stopped for the night well before dark. The guards all came in to help put the laager together using the wagons. While they maneuvered and wrestled the wagons into a tight circle, their dinner was being cooked. Once everything was done, and they'd all tended their mounts, it was time for the evening meal.

            The hunters managed to kill a pair of wild goats, so they had meat. Most nights they didn't. Danica was last in line, as usual. Horse normally stood and ate with her, but he got his food first that night and got himself in the middle of a bunch of other nomads. She couldn't confront him with so many witnesses, or everyone would know she was contemplating letting Fulgar have his way. That would not turn out well for her.

            So she had to wait for him to bed down. First, though, she rolled out her bedroll and got in fully clothed. With so many sexually deprived men in the caravan, Danica didn't think it prudent to sleep any other way. She slept with two daggers and her drawn sword, too.

            Danica watched and waited. Horse finally got his bedroll, and rolled it out far from hers. It just felt wrong. He always slept right next to her, from day one. His presence helped her sleep, knowing he had her back if one of the other men got any crazy ideas. So she waited until most of the men were settled down, and she slipped out of her bedroll.

            Sneaking up to Horse, she squatted beside him and placed her finger across his lips. "Shhh."

            He tensed, looking at her warily.

            "Can we go talk?" she whispered.

            "About what?"

            "Us," she said.

            He hesitated. Her belly clenched. Danica couldn't believe she was saying what she was saying, or thinking what she was thinking.

            "What's there to talk about? You'd rather suck him off than do anything with me," he whispered. Danica gasped and glanced around quickly. No one stirred. "Maybe you should be waking him up."

            "Shhh," she said. "Please. Can we do this somewhere else? Somewhere more private?"

            "Do what?" he asked.

            His eyes were fierce. She felt naked under that gaze. Danica swallowed, feeling her body changing. She was so hot. Warm wetness spread between her legs and a tremor started in her belly and hands.

            "Please. Not here."

            Horse shook his head, and then lowered it back to the ground. "I'm through talking. Do what you want to do, or who you want to do."

            Danica watched his eyes close. Dismissing her. She swallowed, her mind crying out with distress. The elfmaid didn't know if it raged against what she was considering doing with Horse, or the fact he might no longer be interested. Very distressful.

            Licking her lips, heart thundering in her ears, Danica rolled to her knees, lowered her face, and kissed him on the corner of his mouth. Horse's eyes popped open. He gawked up at her.

            "Please, Horse, come with me," she whispered, throat almost too tight to speak.

            Rising to her feet, she headed away from camp. She heard Horse following, and that was quite a relief. It also terrified her.

            Once they were over the rise and out of sight of camp, Danica turned to face Horse. He was moving up to her fast, his eyes fierce and hungry.

            "Horse, I just wanted to say…," she started, but he was upon her.

            Her friend wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly. It felt divine. She hadn't been held in so long, but it was going too fast, so she tried to push him back. Instead, Horse kissed her. Before she knew it his lips were all over hers. She moaned, and didn't know where that came from, only that it felt so good.

            After a moment, her mind began to spin and Danica kissed him back. Her hands clutched at him, and she moaned low at the sensuous feel of his lips gliding over hers. She knew she was in trouble when he opened her mouth with his own, and thrust in his tongue. Her tongue met his, and they wrestled deep in her mouth.

            "Mmmmm," she groaned. "Horse. This…This is…Oooh. Lyss, help me."

            Horse groaned, kissing and sucking on her neck. She realized that calling out the Goddess of Love was probably not the best idea she'd ever had.

            "You don't need Lyss's help," Horse said, starting to remove her clothes. "I'll take real good care of you. Promise."

            Danica managed to push him to arms-length. He continued to work at her clothes, but he caught her eyes. She tried, but couldn't break free of his gaze. The beautiful elfmaid felt that gaze all the way down into her lower belly. It made her juices flow like never before.

            "Horse, you don't understand. I've never…," she said. Danica didn't know what to say. She couldn't confess the whole truth. She might be cast out from the caravan, and that would be a death sentence. "I mean, I haven't…"

            "Are you a virgin?"

            "No," she thought, remember all that had happened before. "Hardly."

            Horse had her breeches unfastened, and half pushed down over her flaring hips. They were too tight for him to remove without her cooperation. So he pulled her tunic up and off her body. Danica lifted her arms, letting him take it. She almost crossed her arms before her naked breasts.

            "Danica, you are so beautiful," Horse said. He cupped a teat, squeezing it gently. His thumb rubbed her sensitive, hard nipple. She looked down, not know what to think about a man touching her so intimately. She watched as her nipples swelled up, become quite erect. "So beautiful."

            "Oh my."

            Horse kissed her. Then he pulled away, and stripped before her. Danica watched, panting, her body filled with the most incredible sensations. Tingling heat filled her, turning her insides to mush, as her pussy throbbed and ached. At the same time, it felt as if her mind was turning to mush as well.

            Before she knew it, Horse was on his knees before her, pulling her breeches down over her hips. She wiggled her hips, helping him out, and then he pulled them down her legs. Danica stepped out of the breeches, and Horse buried his face between her legs.

            "Oh!" she cried, feeling his tongue lapping at her feminine folds.

            "You are so wet," he said. "You do want me as much as I want you."

           
Do I?
Her head spun.

            Horse nibbled at her clit causing her to rise up on her toes and bury her hands in his hair. He forced his tongue between her nether lips and eagerly lapped up her juices.

            "Horse. Horse! This will change everything," she gasped. "Change…us. Change…our…relationship…Oooooh."

            "I know," he said, and pulled her down to straddle him. Danica looked down at his erection, now pressed against her belly. "It's what I want."

            The size of him scared her. Her eyes widened, as her chest tightened. Danica struggled to swallow the lump in her throat. Her mind was already going there, visions of Horse between her legs and thrusting into her. Could her body take in such a huge cock?

            "Oh my. You're hung like a horse," she said. "You will hurt me."

            "Don’t worry, it'll fit," he said, grinning. He rolled forward, pushing her onto her back beneath him. Danica cried out, looked down between them. He was hanging low, his erection rubbing against her folds. She couldn't believe how large he was. He had bragged before, but she dismissed it. Many men bragged about their size, but weren't any bigger than the next man. "Are you ready?"

            "No," she said. "I mean, yes. I'm yours, Horse."

            His eyes grew fierce again, sending a thrill up her spine. Danica reached down, wrapped delicate fingers around his shaft, and guided him in. She sucked in a sharp breath, back bowing up, when he thrust into her. Penetration was profound. Danica grabbed his shoulders, dug her nails in hard, her legs wrapping around him.

            "Lyss! Help me," she cried.

            "Glorious Gods, you're so tight," Horse gasped out.

            He thrust and thrust, pushing deeper and deeper. Danica's head rocked upon the ground. Her hips thrust up to meet his and she stared into his face, wide-eyed. She could not believe it. Couldn't believe how stretched she felt. It hurt yet it felt divine.

            Horse slowly worked his way deeper and deeper, until he completely filled her. It wasn't long before she was bucking under him, crying out. She felt her body changing, felt herself moving closer and closer to ultimate release. And she so wanted it, too.

            "Oh Horse. Oh Horse," she gasped out. "Yes. Yes. Oh, please don't stop. Oh yes!"

            Once he got settled into a nice rhythm, Horse's hands came up to the breasts. Danica marveled how wonderful it felt to have such big, rough hands all over her sensitive, silky smooth breasts.

            Soon she felt him starting to peak. His thrusts were becoming more frantic. Horse was gasping, grunting. She felt her own body change again, and start into that wild ride to climax. She cried out as she got closer and closer. And then…

            "Aaagggh," Danica cried, feeling her body pulse with pleasure. She idly wondered if elven women climaxed different from humans or if their climaxes were more powerful, or felt better. It was the most incredible feeling she'd ever experienced, as a man or a woman. "Aaagggh."

            Her orgasm seemed to excite Horse even more. He cried out joyfully, and then thrust deep and held it. Danica stared up into his blissful face as he came inside her, filling her with his seed.

            "That was better than I dreamed," Horse said, collapsing atop her.

            They lay like that for a long time, huffing and puffing, slowly settling down. So long that Danica felt herself starting to drift off. Then she heard Horse's soft snores, and didn't fight it any more.

            Danica smiled as she drifted off into nothingness.

            She wasn't sure how long they slept, but Danica was awakened by Horse lifting her up in his arms. She drifted in and out of sleep as he carried her back to his bedroll. As they settled down within his blankets, she lifted her head and looked around. Most of the other men were looking at them. A few were grinning. She rolled her eyes, laid her head on his chest, and went back to sleep.

* * * * *

            Danica stood before her mount, her hat filled with water as the thirsty horse drank his fill. Well, she probably didn't have enough water on her to satisfy his thirst, but it would hold him over until the end of the day. Which wasn't that far off.

            Glancing at the sun far to the west, "We've still got a good two hours to go before sunset, and then I'll take good care of you."

            The sound of an approaching rider caught her attention. She glanced over her shoulder to see Horse riding towards her. He'd been called up to the train by Fulgar.

            "Danica, we're stopping for the night," he said. He leaned over in the saddle, palmed the back of her head and kissed her. Rubbing her lips together, Danica marveled at how a mere week as Horse's lover had changed her and their relationship. "There's a clan that wants to trade, so Omar is going to make camp on the other side of the next hill."

            "Great," she said. Her belly started to tingle. Horse was insatiable, and always wanted to get one off her before the evening meal, and then again at bedtime. Then again when they awoke and any chance they got during the day. "We can always count on ole Omar to take care of us."

            "Now if we can only avoid Fulgar. I didn't like the way he looked at me. I think he's got something nasty planned for us."

            That brought her scowl back. Captain Fulgar was still holding a grudge, despite her taking a lover. Danica had hoped Fulgar would lose interest when she started sleeping with Horse. Apparently he now blamed both Danica and Horse for his misery. Together, they pulled half of all the night guard duty, along with many other distasteful duties. Like digging latrines.

            "Speaking of the God of Brooding," she said, "we had better get going before he spies us breathing fresh air."

            Captain Fulgar watched them like a hawk. If they even looked like they were happy or comfortable, he'd quickly find something hard or unpleasant for them to do.

            The first of the twenty odd wagons was just topping the hill when they took up their positions again. Most were the long, wide, canvass covered wagons popular with traders in these parts. Yet many were the narrower wagons found in the heavily wooded Jarlands. All the wagons were pulled by teams of six horses.

            Omar's House owned ten of the wagons, with the rest divided among three other merchants. There were also half a dozen independent traders with pack trains of horses or mules, and one of camels. Together, they all made this trip twice a year. From Tyrians and Jarlanders in Elfhaven they bought bars of steel and precious metals, cut jewels, wines, spices and herbs, bolts of fine cloth, and, most precious of all to desert and steppe nomad alike, lumber, then traded them to nomads to make their wagons and in the desert cities of Tamera, Samulla, and Ismat al-Haratha. In return, they received the exquisitely worked jewelry and the colorful, intricate blankets and rugs the nomad and desert cultures were known for — not to mention the finest wool and cotton in the known world.

            By the time Danica and Horse topped the hill, the wagons were forming into a large laager, with men and horses protected inside the circle. The lone exception was the chuck wagon which was always in the center of the encampment.

            The cook already had half a dozen cook fires of dried bison and cattle chips going by the time the last wagon, and Danica, arrived. The cook had been baking bread all day in the sun ovens bolted to the top of the chuck wagon. The mouth-watering aroma of the cooking bread was the only thing to keep her going on some days.

            After helping manhandle the last wagon into its position in the defensive laager, she unsaddled her horse and rubbed it down good. Then she placed her bay with the others on the guards' picket line. The cook's helpers were already busy feeding and watering the livestock. That done, she got into line for some chow. Captain Fulgar was two men in front of her.

            His total lack of leadership traits astounded her. A leader should never eat until each and every one of his people has been fed. A leader — a good leader — always took care of his people first. She wondered how he'd gotten his current position.

            By the time Danica got her steaming bowl of half-cooked, heavily-spiced antelope stew, warm flatbread, and fried potatoes, the nomads arrived. She watched them warily while she ate with Horse in the shade of the wine merchant's small tent. She knew the new arrivals from her recently completed trip as Danic. Clan Jordani of the Lion Tribe. Carl had promised one of their women that Danic would marry her if she slept with Danic. She did; he didn't. Her father, Dett, the clan War Chief, had been incensed when he failed to abide by Carl's promise.

            As she recalled, the present trading party compromised more or less the same individuals as the last one some three months back. Dett, still looking more like a Jarland mercenary than a Jordani warrior in his steel cuirass and broadsword, was the most obvious member as he angrily made demands and threats. He would act incensed at the "outrageous" prices asked, only to be soothed by the clan's women folk after the traders lowered their prices. It was an old nomad trick the traders had long since began to anticipate by truly asking outrageous prices for their merchandise.

            There were an even dozen warriors, led by the War Chief, and an equal number of women. Danica was glad Hara wasn't one of them. She felt partly responsible for the woman's perceived "dishonor." It wasn't her fault Carl forgot to tell Danic about the deal he struck with her.

            The merchants all spread out their wares for inspection. The haggling was intense. Danica watched them with interest, but Horse just sat silently staring at them through narrowed eyes.

            Grinning evilly at Horse, "Is it true that the Jordani have the most beautiful women on the steppes?"

            His eyes went wide in surprise, "Jordani are all pigs compared to the women of the Horse Tribe!"

            Danica laughed. The young nomad had nothing but contempt for the Lion Tribe. He was under strict orders not to speak to any of them, for fear he would start a fight. Horse Tribe and Lion Tribe were ancient blood enemies.

            A crash, an angry shout, and then the rasp of swords whipped out of sheaths brought Danica and Horse to their feet. Three Jordani were holding a merchant at sword point. Omar and Fulgar were rushing over with shouts for calm. Caravan guards were already inching in with drawn swords.

            Ordered to hold their positions, the guards waited for Omar to defuse the situation. It would be hard. Even from across the encampment, Danica could hear the nomads' angry accusations. They felt that one of the merchants was cheating them. Brandishing a silver bar they had just purchased, they claimed it was only silver plating over base metal. Knowing ole Ramus, she figured they might be right.

            "Bet you a kiss it ends in blood," Horse offered.

            "Don't tempt fate like that," she hissed.

            Horse's prediction soon came to pass. Omar's attempt at a peaceful settlement died when one of the Jordani warriors tried to skewer Ramus. The wiry old trader jumped under a wagon and crawled to safety as the Jordani warriors and caravan guards threw themselves at each other.

            The Jordani warriors were outnumbered ten to one. They fought their way back to their mounts, protecting their unarmed women as best they could. The guards, not having as much to lose, fought more cautiously. Danica groaned inwardly as one by one the Jordani women were pulled down by eager caravan guards. Their fates were far worse than the warriors cut down in the fight. In all, four of the Jordani warriors and six of the women escaped.

            The caravan didn't hesitate. Everyone jumped into action. Horses were saddled or hitched back to wagons. Everything was thrown into the wagons. The eight dead Jordani warriors were left where they fell, the six captured women bound and tossed into wagons. If the caravan survived, the women would be sold in the first city they reached, or to one of the desert tribes. The money collect for their sale would be divided up among the guards.

            Heading due east, straight for the desert, the caravan pulled out in record time. A large guard force was spread out in a crescent formation behind the train as it dashed across the darkening steppes. They had less than an hour of light left and no one knew how far away the Jordani camp was located.

            When the sun went down, Fulgar pulled the guard screen in closer. Danica was ordered to be one of half a dozen outriders sent to parallel the caravan. Her enhanced night vision, the only good thing about being an elf she could think of, earned her the most northern and dangerous position. It was their job to give the caravan an early warning of any Jordani attack. The caravan continued on under their protection as fast as possible through the rolling hills of the night-shrouded grasslands.

            Danica glanced up at the starry sky with apprehension. The only real light came from the large moon. The moon was usually a silvery white, but it wasn't that night. Instead it was a dark blood red! It happened a couple times a year. Bloodmoon!

            Evil. Misfortune. Bad luck. The realization that it was Bloodmoon hit her like a hammer, almost making her swoon in the saddle. Until then, she had forgotten what day it was.

            Danica's elven night vision allowed her to see the fear in the eyes of her comrades. Bloodmoon meant bad luck and Ramus had flirted with it, and lost. Now they all would pay.

            During the first hour of darkness, two wagons were lost in the mad charge to safety. One overturned and was abandoned. The other drove off into a ravine, killing the teamster and all six horses. Both wagons, remarkably, belonged to Ramus.

            Two hours after dark, Omar stopped the caravan at a small copse of scrub oak. There was a small creek fed pool there, so they watered their mounts while keeping a worried eye on the surrounding prairie lands. If they kept up the pace, then they would leave the Jordani graze before morning. The rest of the trip would be through the desert. Taag tribal territory.

            Danica was watering her horse when it suddenly lifted its head and looked north. She notice several of the other horses had become skittish. Then the faint rumble of distant hooves came to her.

            "Attack! To the north!" she cried, swinging back up into the saddle and pulling her sword.

            The guards were mounted in an instant. They charged out en masse to engage the incoming nomads. The two sides met in a thunderclap of flesh, steel, and battle cries.

            In the darkness, everyone struck out blindly at anyone closing on them. Only Danica's elven vision allowed her to discern friend and enemy. The nomads were armed and armored much the same as the guards, in lamellar armor of boiled leather or steel, leather-covered wooden shields, and steel helmets. Though each tribe and clan wore distinctive colors and styles of armor and clothes, in the moonless night it was nearly impossible to tell friend and foe apart even for Danica.

            Fighting her way through the thunderstorm of flashing steel and hooves, Danica suddenly found herself alone on a rise. Scanning the scene, she spotted a large group of Jordani charging the wagons.

            "Rally on the wagons!" she cried, spurring forward. "The wagons are under attack!"

            The whole battle seemed to turn and move toward the wagons in one great dark mass. Guard and Jordani fought on in a running battle. Then as suddenly as it started the Jordani broke off the engagement and rode off into the night, whooping and hollering triumphantly.

            Danica and the rest stared at the carnage wrought by the attack in stunned silence. Everywhere she looked were dead and dying men and horses. She wasn't sure which was worst, the sobbing men or the screaming, thrashing horses. Now she wished her night vision wasn't so keen.

            While Danica helped administer death strokes to the mortally wounded horses, the wounded guards and merchants were loaded onto wagons. The wounded Jordani were given death strokes, an act that Danica found horrible. They were wounded and no threat to them. She believed that they should have been left alone, which would have forced their kinsmen to tend to them instead of continuing their pursuit of the caravan. Only Captain Fulgar was adamant about killing them, and most of the others angry and shaken enough not to question it. Any complaints were quickly stifled under the storm of angry glares and shouts.

            The cargos of the dead pack animals were shifted to wagons. The teamsters worked out an order of march to ensure no other wagons or animals were lost, while covering the maximum territory possible under the circumstances. Only Omar's leadership ensured anything got done at all. With a lot of hard work, the caravan was soon ready to continue.

            When they all assembled, Danica was shocked at their losses. Easily half the guards were dead or wounded too badly to fork a horse and fight. The Jordani would be back, of that she had no doubt. And when they discovered what the caravan had done to their kinsmen...well, she really didn't care to think about it.

            "Encircle the wagons," Captain Fulgar ordered.

            "Wait," Danica called. "The Jordani warriors will be back to pick up their dead and wounded."

            "So?" Omar said.

            "If we don't hurt them too badly to continue, they'll dog us clear to Samulla," she said. "And we can't take another attack like this last one."

            Several of the others murmured and nodded their agreement.

            "What are you suggesting?" Omar said.

            "We could leave most of the guards hidden over in the trees and wait for them to return," she said. "Once they're dismounted to look for survivors, we could then pepper them with arrows before sweeping through them in the confusion. Our losses would be minimal, and theirs staggering."

            "No. I won't break up my force," Fulgar said.

            "You mean my force, Captain," Omar said. Turning back to Danica, "Where will the caravan be during this?"

            "It will continue on as before," she said. "I know enough about these nomads to know their first thoughts will be for any dead or wounded kinsmen left here."

            "That's right," Horse said. "First you see to your clan brothers, then punish the outsiders."

            "But there aren't any survivors," Fulgar said.

            "They don't know that," Danica said, giving him a withering glare of utter loathing. "And they will swing by first before giving chase."

            "And after our dishonorable act of murdering their wounded warriors," Horse said, also glaring daggers at the Captain, "it is even more important to deal them a crippling blow to stop any thoughts of pursuit and revenge."

            Danica shot Horse an admiring glance, glad to know that despite his hereditary prejudices he still understood simple honor.

            "I like it," Omar said. "I don't want to be hounded all the way to Samulla."

            "If it pleases you, my lord," Danica said. "I would be honored to lead the ambush force."