A Noble Estate (13 page)

Jisten was up and dressed with his usual swiftness.

Rak was slower, but he still joined Jisten on the porch before the first riders brought their ponies to a halt under the canopy.

“Cousin Jisten,” the lead rider called, “we are come in answer to your plea!”

“Cousin Viamun, it’s great to see you. There’s stabling in the back for your entire party, even the wagons. You’re all welcome here, there’s much we can do once we have enough hands.”

More and more Valers arrived. Rak gave up counting somewhere in the thirties. He tried to lend a hand to the unsaddling and grooming of the horses until Jisten finally picked him up and carried him inside. What Rak had been able to determine was that Asfalea wasn’t there. She’d remained in Kydeno with the clan chief.

Pεndεra Ligo, Xrεnys Fεngari

3rd day, 1st week, Xrehnys’ moon

Harday, the 24th of Auranmon

The Valers brought the wagon into the market and dropped the side down to form the market stall. Baskets of produce were set out, each carefully labeled. But it was the sacks of coffee beans that drew the most attention from passersby. There were two varieties on offer from the lord’s estate: “Oven Roasted” and “Dragon Roasted.”

Curious shoppers crowded in, and the Valers started passing out samples of the brew.

“What’s going on?” Nergin asked, his perpetual scowl appearing deeper than usual.

“Looks like the café harvest has begun,” replied Chernil, wondering if Nergin was really that dense or if the man was looking for an opening to launch into another of his long-winded rants.

“Why aren’t they wearing collars?” Nergin motioned to the Valer sellers, happily talking with the myriad of customers.

“The new lord’s a Valer,” said Chernil. “I’m guessing these are his clansmen.”

Nergin nodded. “Yeah, good, they won’t be here all year then.”

“I’m going to see about getting some beans now.” Chernil usually bought in bulk and shipped south to Karpos at a profit.

“Humph, those beans are probably wormy,” but Nergin was talking to himself.

Chernil wormed his way into the crowd. He’d read the signs when they’d set them up and was eager to learn more about the dragon-roasted variety.

“Free samples!” a cheerful Valer teenage boy called out and Chernil was quick to take him up on the offer.

One sip and he was hooked. There was a smoky taste to the café with hints of chocolate and nuttiness. Better yet, the fuel-oil aftertaste was completely absent. “How much for a full wagon load of the dragon roasted?” asked Chernil.

“Oh, we’d like everyone here to be able to buy a sack, if they want, just to try it. You are welcome to buy the remainder of the wagonload,” said the spare Valer man with grey hair at his temples.

Chernil chortled. “No, no, you misunderstand. I wish to buy direct from the estate. My people would bring the wagon. We do this every year.”

“Ah, now I understand. If you pick up, the price would be ten royals per bushel of beans. Or, if you trade in grain, two bushels of grain to each bushel of café beans.”

Chernil brightened. “Grain? I can trade you grain?” He was nearly dancing with glee.

The Valer man smiled at his happiness. His wife smiled, too, but at the prospect of grain to trade to Okyro. The Okyran gold spent just as well as Koilathan, and thus they would be helping the Loftoni in Okyro. And the silk was easy to resell, what they didn’t keep for themselves.

The Valer man took Chernil off to the side to speak while the other Valers continued to sell the beans to the townsfolk.

Nergin’s expression darkened as he watched Chernil. He resented his fellow prospering, but the man didn’t trade in the same items as he did, so he couldn’t even complain that the man was cutting into his business.

* * * *

A veritable river of gold poured through Yagebor’s hands. Lini was his and her people had sold to his profit. Chloi was now glutted with slave-meat, but he didn’t care. He’d gotten gold enough to purchase fine steel weaponry and armor for his warriors. The warriors of every clan respected him now. He’d given them the dream life. Plenty of booze, plenty of cunt, plenty of blood. The choicest females now ran at the stirrups of even the least of his warriors. His best had entire harems.

The women of the clans were enjoying the task of breaking the slaves to the yoke. There were so many hands to perform the necessary tasks that the clan women were no longer burdened by menial labor. More and more of the clan women were turning to mysticism, learning the womanly magics of their totems. Yagebor approved. He wanted them to learn magic and use it against their enemies.

The boys young enough to be malleable were progressing nicely in their training. The youngest, the babies, would never know they were anything but Lythadi. Except, of course, for their lack of magic. That didn’t particularly trouble Yagebor. But he knew he’d need to make use of every tool he had in order to conquer Koilatha. Lini had been a training exercise to teach his warriors how to work together and to make enough gold to upgrade their arms. Koilatha would be a tough nut to crack, but it was theirs by right.

Once they had reclaimed their homeland, they could settle, returning to the days of plenty. And even better, Koilatha sat across the only trade route for the valuable Loftoni slaves. That was a trade worth fighting to get a piece of. A healthy, winged adult Loftoni of either gender would fetch more gold at auction than any ten human slaves.

* * * *

Єvmεra Ligo, Xrεnys Fεngari

7th day, 1st week, Xrehnys’ moon

Firday, the 28th of Auranmon

Rak groaned in gustatory bliss. “I cannot walk. I will just sleep here.”

Jisten patted Rak’s belly. “Nice and full. For about twenty minutes. Nap and when you awake, there will be more food on the table.”

“Okay,” agreed Rak with a food-induced yawn. He curled up and used Jisten’s firm thigh for a pillow.

Jisten fondly stroked Rak’s wings. Despina pulled a chair over so Jisten could prop his feet up.

There was a lot more space here in his manor’s casual dining room than there had been at his mother’s cottage. Although he did miss the homey feel of the cottage, Despina finally had a kitchen worthy of her talents. The dining chairs had padded seats and backs, so Jisten was comfortable. Despina refilled his goblet of wine, so he sipped and stroked Rak’s wings.

Dolron poked his head in and announced, “S’Tyll has arrived.”

Rak peeled off the chair and headed for the door, Jisten hot on his heels.

Tyll was just dismounting when they stepped outside. He tossed the reins to a Valer boy and stepped up on the porch in time to catch Rak in his arms. He hugged Rak tight, swung him around, then grinned at Jisten and offered a hand. “Long journey but worth it. Nice manor you have here, Baron.”

Jisten rolled his eyes. “Thank you, Bard. Can we dispense with the formality now?”

Tyll chuckled. “Of course.” He pulled Jisten into his embrace and a three-way hug ensued. “Now, I want all the details of what happened while I was away.” He steered the two men back inside.

After much discussion, a few bottles of wine and a meal, Tyll was not only up to speed on current events, he was horny. He stood up and offered Jisten a hand. “Enough talk,” he said, smiling.

Jisten gripped his hand but didn’t really need the help to stand. “I agree.”

They both turned and helped Rak up. The Loftoni was off balance now due to his swollen belly.

Tyll ran a hand over the large bump and felt the baby moving. “It won’t be long now, will it?”

“No. A few more nights.” Rak sounded eager at the prospect of the imminent birth, not that Tyll was surprised. The baby inside his spouse was a heavy drain on the man’s slim resources.

They went into the bedroom and clothing flew as three pairs of hands went to work. Lips and tongues explored the newly bared flesh, and the three men fell into bed in a squirming knot of hedonistic action. But Tyll noticed that while Rak didn’t avoid him, he didn’t seek him out, either. Rak paid most of his attention to Jisten, and it was his kironi opening that he pressed to the Valer’s large erection.

Jisten slid into Rak with a softly murmured, “Love you,” and his hips pumped against Rak’s bulge.

Tyll entered Rak from the rear, sandwiching the smaller man between them, and he nodded to himself when he felt no resistance…but also no pleasure at the penetration. He languidly made love to Rak, but it was as if Rak wasn’t really there. He could sense Rak’s pleasure via his empathic abilities, but that pleasure was being entirely generated by Jisten. Rak tolerated his lovemaking, nothing more. Tyll climaxed and Rak did not orgasm in response.

Once he was soft, he disengaged and backed off, watching with his eyes and his senses as Jisten continued to make love to Rak via the kironi opening. Rak responded to him lustily, crying out with pleasure, squirming and tensing his belly to increase Jisten’s pleasure. Tyll knew that Rak was wholly involved with Jisten to the exclusion of all else. When at last Jisten orgasmed, his seed shooting into Rak to feed the kironi magic, Rak climaxed in turn and Tyll felt the dwindling of the slave fires.

Jisten cuddled with Rak in a post-coitus daze but proved he wasn’t totally out of it. He looked at Tyll and asked, “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“The kironi magic happened, my dear.” Tyll stroked Rak’s belly. “I was expecting this. From here on out, until the baby is born, only you will be able to satisfy Rak’s fires.”

“Only me?” Jisten looked guilty. “That bastard Murson would have been the only—”

“Only you,” said Tyll. “And…yes.”

* * * *

The Lythadi advanced along a front a hundred wide and ten deep. Their horses went from a walk, to a trot, to a canter and then to a gallop in eerie silence. The Koilathan border post guards watched them come with an air of disbelief. The sergeant quickly climbed the heliograph tower. The Lythadi reached the wooden palisade moments before the sergeant sent a quick message up the line.

Station eight. Border breached. Estimate enemy one thousand Lythadi raiders and usual clan support. Repeat, border breach at station eight.

Little did the sergeant know, but every single station sent an almost identical message before every soldier manning the station was slain.

To be continued…

I’ve long since embraced my inner nerd. I revel in my Greekness and in my Geekness. I have two lives—the mundane reality of life here on earth and the far more interesting life in my head. I love ancient history, ancient forms of combat, target archery, sabre fencing, anything to do with horses, organic food and sustainable farming. Most especially do I love science fiction and fantasy of all varieties, especially conventions, which are the only gatherings on earth where I can find many people just as strange as I am.

You can contact me at [email protected] or through my website www.ac-ellas.com