To Claim the Elvin Princess: Apprentice (13 page)

21

Rasten was mostly unprepared for his introduction to riding upon an alowon. Having seen them from afar had not prepared him in the least, both as to their size, and perhaps worse, for their smell.

“Dear God, what’s that stench?!” he grumbled, as he got close. Amein found this quite funny, being used to the strong smell since childhood.

“Don’t be mean, you’ll hurt its feelings!” she teased. Rasten looked at her, astounded. “They have feelings? Really?!” He was less than pleased when Amein and several of the other close riders exploded into peels of laughter.

This was just the beginning of his annoyance. He found climbing the short, flexible ladder that hung down, to be awkward and difficult. It could be pulled up and secured, to prevent someone on the ground from using it to their advantage. Amein demonstrated it, climbing it effortlessly, having done so since childhood. Rasten displayed no such ease, finally reaching the top, and almost falling over the other side. When he managed to get settled, he had trouble with the lap belt, which was a vital part of the riding equipment; the alowons ran with a brutal gate, but at speed, they basically bounded enormous distances. An unsecured rider was in for a brief flight and a brutal landing on hard ground, likely to be trampled by his fellows. The saddle was set on flexible dampers, to make the ride less bone jarring, but the riders all wore wide and tight belts to keep their insides from being pounded miserably.

Rasten soon discovered that handling such a beast was much unlike riding a horse. For one thing, an alowon at rest preferred to stay immobile; moving a body that weighed more than three elephants on earth did was no small task. They required being prodded, but not too excessively, as he quickly discovered, when he pulled on the reigns, and kicked at the creature’s side. His first tentative kick did nothing, and the next, a bit harder from his frustration, caused the animal to leap straight up, before landing and taking off, bounding madly! Rasten was spared hearing the other’s laughter, as his snorting charge was making too much noise. That coupled with Rasten’s near scream, blocked out all sound.

They were in a large open area, wherein maneuvers were conducted. This gave him much room to navigate, and he managed to get the animal to turn, making a long, slow u-turn. When he had it going straight again, he looked up to find himself heading straight at the watching riders. Seeing their frantic gestures, he tried to stop or turn, but his mount apparently wasn’t in the mood to obey him. The assembled riders hastily fled, desperate to get clear of his path, and before he could do anything else, his alowon plunged into the large pond that was directly ahead.

Terrified that his mount would sink beneath the water, and take him with it, he struggled to release the lap belt, but was unable to. His frantic animal kept bounding, the water actually being barely Rasten’s height in depth. They quickly traversed the pond, emerging back onto dry land, in time for him to try turning again.

Stay calm, and be gentle and slow...they respond to your panic”
he remembered Amein’s words, and resisting the urge to jerk hard on the reins, he cautiously moved his hands slowly, in the manner he had been told would stop the creature. His alowon slowly lost speed, and as he gently moved the reins, it circled around, and allowed him to reach the reassembled group and stop. He was a mess of splattered mud, but was intact. He was also angry, embarrassed and ready to quit. Amein recognized his state, and deftly maneuvered her hulking mount as close as possible.

“If you didn’t pee yourself, you did better than most do the first time!” she assured him. She was thankful that he couldn’t get his hands on her. “You can spank me later!” she teased, knowing he was thinking of such. “Come on, move slow, and follow us!” she called, easing her alowon into motion. Rasten merely shook his head, when even trying to be gentle caused a jerking start, as his beast lurched into a slow jog.

Three hours or so on the alowon did much to make his butt ache, but only slightly improved his skill. He did manage to keep it from running off wildly, as it had at first, and he was reasonably pleased by that alone. He found matching his speed to others to be maddeningly difficult, either creeping ahead, or falling behind, only to spurt ahead when he tried to correct. That the others, including a half dozen Elvin females, could stay perfectly aligned, side by side, made him feel worse than a beginner.

When he climbed down, he discovered the true extent of what a pain in the ass riding such a beast was; he could scarcely stand.

“Makes your rear hurt, doesn’t it?” one of the Elvin females asked, while making eyes at him.

“Sure does...want to come rub it, and make it feel better?” he said a bit snidely.

“Of course...I would be thrilled to do so!” she gushed, before Amein stepped close.

“He’ll be too busy with me,” she suggested, trying not to sound snotty or mean, but barely succeeding. “I’m likely to get spanked, for teasing him!”

“Oh, I’d let him spank me too!” the other one suggested, before giving a small guilty wave, and hastily leaving.

“Did you give her the death stare?” Rasten wondered.

“She’s quite sensitive, and I didn’t need to go that far!” Amein snipped, before grinning at Rasten. She stepped close for a kiss, and grinned. “Don’t be angry...you have to learn! I told you it would be hard! I also told you how many times I wet myself learning to do this! At least you have dry pants!”

“Sweaty...God, that leather seems so soft, but not after this long!”

“Wait until you have to ride all day and all night! You’ll want to sleep standing up!”

“You’ve done that?”

“Of course, and then fought several hours with no rest or sleep. Come, let’s get our creatures put away! Then we can go have a bath...you stink!” she insisted.

“You smell like alowon too!” he grumbled.

“But I don’t smell like stinky armpits!” she insisted, sticking her nose in the air. Rasten simply shook his head, and tugged on the huge creature’s reins.

“Tell me again why someone thought those mobile mountains would be good to ride! You’ve got horses...they’d be a lot more agile!” Rasten declared soaking in the bathing pool. He was trying to ignore Amein’s hand, which was fondling his organ.

“But they’re better to use against foot soldiers! A swordsman would be lucky to hit your foot, even if he managed to avoid being trampled. Riding a mass of the alowons into an attacking group is a most effective weapon! Especially when followed close by warriors on horse back and afoot.  The humans like the Eridians understand that too, and use them the same. Once you learn how to ride well, you can master using a bow from the back of one. That’s most effective!”

“I’m surprised you don’t use long pikes or lances!” he complained.

“Occasionally we do, but that is  hard and dangerous; Hard to hit a passing rider, and if you spear a foot soldier, you can either hurt yourself...when it gets stuck...or chance losing it. The biggest danger you’ll face is a footman with a long lance, or a bowman...neither feels good, when you’re shot or impaled!” Seeing his expression, she grinned. “Try not to pee in the pool,” she sighed.

Amein, watching his expression, as he lounged in the countoured, smooth stone, with his eyes closed, letting the warm water flow over him, noted the furrowing of his brows.

“What disturbs you?” she quietly asked.

“How is it that you have fantastic things like the gates, and your lighting, all manner of devices...whether machine or what you call
sorcery
, yet you fight with swords and bows. Has no one invented more modern weapons?” He opened his eyes to peek, and saw Amein sitting, seemingly frozen. “Yes?” he prodded. She stopped fiddling with his maleness, and looked at him, sternly.

“We have at times created fearsome devices, which could visit death or destruction on others. They are locked away, never to be used,” she declared. “Remember what I told you about the Narisinia? We have many such weapons, which are astoundingly evil and powerful!”

“Really?!”

“Yes, really! Millions of years ago, the Elvin considered deeply such things. The decision was made to resist the temptation to take the easy path, and they chose to continue on using weapons that required great skill. When one of us falls on the field of battle, it is because they were bested by a better, more skilled opponent. No one dies by accident either!” Rasten found this amazing, in light of the history of earth.

“My old world would have been greatly improved by such. Now, they have weapons that would allow a coward to exterminate whole cities from the other side of the planet!”

Amein frowned at this. “So there is no honor or skill in war there? What fools!” she declared. Seeing Rasten’s expression, she shrugged.

“I’m sorry...I don’t wish to condemn your whole birth world, but indiscriminate killing is stupid!”

“So no one has ever died accidently in war here?” This made Amein look frustrated.

“The barbarians...the Eridians, have sometimes sacked and burned each others towns. Usually they just carry off the women and children, to keep them...fertile females are valuable, and children may be well trained, to serve too! The men who don’t die in the fighting, or flee, end up being prisoners, and become part of the victorious tribe. Even with their casual regard for life, they tend to conserve it more. That’s part of why we respect them, and put up with them!”

“Have the Elvin ever killed any of their prisoners?” Rasten demanded. Amein looked unhappy.

“We have had our own moments of failure...when we took the easy path, or gave in to our anger and pain...yes. We have always come to regret such rashness, and those moments of weakness temper our more recent decisions. We reject the idea, that vengeance is a worthy reason for killing people.”

“How exactly did our father die?”

“He fell while fighting against Karturic, the leader of the Eridians. It was a new and evil sorcery, that made him unable to defend himself fully, giving the advantage to Karturic’s blade. Why?”

“I can’t help but think you’d wish to put the steel to him!”

“Hardly...he is old and crippled, having been broken in a fall from a terranak. He hangs on, seeking to devise ever more wicked potions and spells. Shocara is his daughter,” she sighed.

“Really? And you’d declare no hate for her either? You’re either a saint or crazy!”

“I prefer to think I’m striving to be wise and moral! I’d want more than anything to have her be a friend...I’m serious!” she squealed, when Rasten goosed her without warning.

“Stop that!” she squawked, laughing.

“Have you ever seen her?”

“Actually a couple of times, on the battle field. She has little fear, and is very skilled. We hear that none of her warriors can stand against her blade. She is also an adept at sorcery, and uses spells in battle. You’d better hope you don’t meet up with her for a long time!”

“Is she attractive?”

“Stunningly so. You’d like her...if you wouldn’t mind being with a girl that smells much like an alowon, and would likely hack your guts out, just for play...” she suggested, and giggled at Rasten’s harsh frown.

22

Rasten regretted having watched so many movies in his youth, all the ones depicting sword fighters especially having made the art seem easier and less demanding than it was. He quickly discovered that fending off the attack of even a moderately skilled elf was difficult, leaving him drenched in sweat by the end of his lesson. The first two weeks had been complete torture, his wrist so sore that he had trouble unfastening his trousers to pee. He learned quickly that complaining was not going to be rewarded; in fact it was regarded as justification to hammer him even harder.

He had been disarmed a dozen times by Elvin youth, a cute thirteen year old elf girl handily beating him a dozen times in a single afternoon. Worse, her naughty smirk and smug delight had made him feel even more helpless. When they had finished. he had collapsed onto a bench, to catch his breath, and was shocked to have this one plop her bottom onto his lap.

Her expression was one of utter delight, charmingly cute and clearly awed to be so close. Rasten noted that her nipples were hard, under her snug top, she like most of the Elvin females aroused by hard exercise and swordplay in particular.

“I am so pleased to be able to work with you! Perhaps next year when I am old enough to be with someone, you might instruct me in the arts of sexual play? I promise I will be a devoted student!” she insisted, before giving him a small kiss, and hopping up to run off. Master Roein, who had witnessed this, slipped close and sat, amused by Rasten’s shocked expression.

“Apparently even the ones too young are captivated by you? She made a plea for your attention later, when she is of age, didn’t she?”

Rasten merely nodded. “How does anyone keep track of which ones are proper to have and which are too young?” he wondered, knowing he could not tell a thirteen year old from a fourteen year old one.

“All you need do is ask! None will lie and claim to be older than they are. Most wait properly, as their family will hold a special celebration for them, when they turn fourteen, and pronounce them free to begin learning. You would not be punished for having one such as Cleinia early, but with so many of proper age and utterly willing, no one does! You, being regarded as very special, will be invited to be the first to have a hundred or more eager young virgins each year. They will beg and plead, driving you crazy with their urges, and wanting to be able to brag that Lord Rasten was the first to have them!”

“Great...that’s all I need!” Rasten sighed.

“You need more practice with a sword of steel, not your other one!” the Master teased, before pronouncing him far enough instructed to practice in the evenings against the warriors in the clan home, there being a superb practice facility therein. “Being beaten well and frequently will be good for you!” she added, which only made him sigh mournfully.

It was a week later that Rasten again fell pray to the Master’s deep and convoluted training. He had been working against her, the practice floor filled with portable obstacles, that might be used both for offense or defense, depending on the skill and ingenuity of the fighter. He had to watch now behind himself, so as not to trip or have his sword caught by an inanimate object, leaving him open to a precise counterstrike. He had suffered this a few times before the Master got more dogged in her attack, and when he almost failed to avoid it again, Roein grinned wickedly.

Rasten thought she might give him a break, as she turned slightly away. Instead, she spun back, her black leather boot a blur, as she connected with his unprotected head hard enough to knock him to his knees. Rasten shook his head, slashing at Roein’s sword, which seemed intended to take his head off, and realizing that she intended to continue punishing him, he staggered to his feet all his concentration fixed on meeting her blade.

Rasten didn’t see that behind himself several of the older students were busy, pouring some sort of clear liquid on a few of the practice devices. He got his first hint that he was no where near done, when one barely two feet from his side burst into flame, as he had been being forced closer to it by the Master’s attack. Without conscious thought, Rasten lunged at the Master, and dropped to the ground, rolling under her sword strike. He leaped to his feet and turned to keep from being skewered by her redirected return stroke, and the fight moved on again.

Fighting among the burning obstacles, the heat and fumes choking and acrid, his eyes watering, made it even more difficult. Movement behind the Master caught his eye, and seeing a half dozen completely naked Elvin girls made him a tiny bit slow to recover; Roein, grinning wickedly, handily slapped the sword out of his tired hand, and she ran the tip of her sword over his sweat soaked abdomen, leaving a precise cut, oozing blood.

“Men are so easy!” Master Roein declared, wickedly pleased. Rasten was so exhausted, he simply dropped to the floor, trying to catch his breath.

“You did well! Your instincts are excellent. Now, as long as you confront no naked females on the battlefield, you might survive!” she teased.

“It is much harder with all these things in the way!” Rasten complained, his throat still raw from the smoke.

“Wait until you have a dozen things, all wielding swords, and trying to hack you to death...” Master Roein suggested. “You need to have better stamina also! There are no rest periods on the battlefield!”

“I assume the training just keeps getting harder??”

“When it seems to be getting easier, it will be because you are mastering the skills you need!” the Master advised him.

Before he departed, he was sent off to get clean. The narrow cut on his belly began to bleed again, but one of the Master’s trainers put a coating of liquid on it, and the seeping stopped immediately. He intended to go to the clan home, but was stopped at the entry.

“Follow me!” he was instructed, before being led out and along a dozen streets, finally coming to a place where a large contingent of craftsmen worked to make and fit mail for warriors. Rasten walked in, amazed at the displays of intricately wrought metal, row upon row of small forged rings interlocking most handily to form garments that were intended to fit snugly on the wearer’s body.

“How might we be of assistance?” an ancient elf asked, stepping in from the work area. Rasten glanced at the one who had brought him, who grinned at his cluelessness.

“The Princess wishes to have Lord Rasten fitted for a full set on mail!”

“I assume cost is no object?” the elf asked, eyeing Rasten.

“Not much. However, she wishes to have you do something nice, but completely functional...he will be waging war in it, not standing around and looking sexy!” the guide suggested.

Rasten detected a hint of amusement in the old elf’s eyes, but had little time to care, being ordered to stand while several dozen measurements were taken.

“You’ll come back in a week, to have the leather undergarment fitted, then we’ll get serious on the rings!” he was advised. When dismissed, his guide led him back outside, to go to the clan home.

“Lord Rasten? What might you tell me of your old world? I hear that there were no Elvin there?”

“Nary a one...apparently they once were, or passed through at times, but haven’t much at all in a very long time.” Rasten suggested. “It’s much different than this world, that’s for certain! Have you been on any of the other Elvin worlds?”

“Only three or four...I’ve gone to deliver messages and to acquire things for the Princess at times! I’d like to see many more of them! Still, I’m not well fed to be a visitor!” the elf laughed. He seemed to Rasten to be a young male of perhaps fifty.

“How did you come to be part of the clan home’s staff?” Rasten wondered.

The elf actually blushed, making Rasten even more curious. “Tell me!” he prodded, smiling broadly.

“I came to Alarinad to study, my Lord, and I was a bit shy and retiring back then. One day, I rounded a street corner, and ran into the cutest Elvin girl...I mean...thump...literally. I was quite embarrassed, and was so mesmerized by her beauty, I know I sounded like a fool, when I tried to apologize. She thought I was quite cute and innocent, and straightaway took me to her place in the citadel...I’m sure you might know what happened then!” the elf sighed.

“Judging from what I’ve learned of elf girls, I can guess! She liked you enough to want you near...and got you a position?”

“Yes...and I’ve kept on with my studies too! It is quite an honor to be among the people there, and to be able to see the Princess often! My family back home are quite envious!” the elf laughed. “Even better, several of them thought I was foolish to come to the city at all!”

“You enjoy reminding them of such?” Rasten wondered.

“More than I likely should!” The elf admitted, grinning widely.

Rasten took a long bath, and dressed for dinner. He had thought being so formal would be annoying, but he had quickly found that he enjoyed the trappings of elegance and power that emerged at such moments to be nice. That the large gatherings were filled with family, and many young children, sometimes less than pleased to be instructed and made to behave, tended to make it seem less flashy and stuffy than it would have otherwise. Seeing so many beautiful females arrayed in long gowns, even girls barely passed being toddlers being so arrayed, was astoundingly elegant and lovely.

The Elvin were immensely fond of beautiful things, building astounding buildings, and filling them with treasures and works of art. The were also fanatically fond of plants and flowers, and were inclined to have them growing everywhere; The large dinning hall alone had a dozen trees gracing its majestic space, the walls and much of the roof being panels of elenite.

Amein had noted his gaze, affixed to the surroundings.

“You still find it a bit much?” she asked, when she finally managed to catch his eye.

“I find that the longer I see it, the more I become enamored to it! It is becoming more normal, to me,” he confessed.

“I would hope so...it is your home! I would wish you to have a long life well suited and pleased by it!”

Later, when they went to their rooms, and removed their formal wear, intending to wear something comfy to lounge in, Amein noted the new mark on Rasten’s belly.

“Someone made a mistake today, didn’t he?” she asked smugly.

“Master Roein cut me a bit, during a hard round of practice, that’s all!”

“What did you do wrong!” Amein demanded. “That is no accidental mark...I have some of those too, and one earns them by being foolish!” she insisted, frowning at him. Rasten sighed, and told the story, which got him well laughed at.

“Why am I not surprised! I hope Shocara doesn’t decide to fight you naked!” she teased, and giggled uncontrollable, especially when Rasten began tickling her.