Demons Bane

Note from author: This story was completely inspired by the picture I found while surfing the net, looking for stuff, for the softer side of beasts web site. I'm not sure how it went from that picture into quite a lengthy story but here it is, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

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Tyme

Demons bane

Part 1

Sara entered the Inn and realized with a quick look around, it was a hub for travelers of all kinds, mostly men. Some were seedy and unkempt, others fair and righteous, protecting their women from lewd advances. A woman alone there might come into trouble if she were not very careful. She toured the room further with her eyes, not daring yet to step into the active interior. It was busy and overwhelming; she had never had the gall to enter a place like this one and even her own father would never have frequented such a rudimentary establishment as this.

She gazed down at herself, checking her attire and comparing it to the few women who sat close to the bar. They were hanging on to and draping themselves over the men, showing their interest in an obviously sensual manner, hoping perhaps to gain their attentions. Her own clothing far from feminine, she looked more like a man in the leather riding clothes her father insisted she wear. She was grateful she had heeded his words; perhaps the men in the room wouldn't be drawn to her soft curves and womanly scent.

Crude heavy wooden tables and chairs dotted the room here and there; two fireplaces at either end at least warmed the place. There were lanterns at intervals along both sides of the walls, facing north and south a few pictures were scattered haphazardly, mostly depicting full-bodied voluptuous women.

Six men were seated at clumsy wooden stools placed around the counter of the bar. Two men were laughing loudly it was obvious by their hand gestures and vulgar statements that they were discussing some past encounter with a female.

Her eye caught movement in a dark corner and she hurriedly looked away; she didn't know they let such creatures into a place of men. It was a Wood Elf, and although she had never seen one, she knew what it was by the slight pointed ears and the dark brooding eyes. Her father had told her stories of the Elves, saying they were not to be trusted and she felt a small stab of fear.

She scanned the room franticly then, for a group of females that she might join until her escort arrived. The coach had brought her this far but could only come as far as the Inn before the driver had to turn around and carry passengers back to the small town she lived in. She had one small carpetbag and very little gold; the letter she had received from the school said she would need nothing but herself and a few clothes.

Sara Michael's was an innocent girl, just turning 21. She lived with her father only, a kind man who had always looked out for her welfare. He patiently raised his daughter, schooling her at home and keeping her from the ways of men. She did, though, have some experience, stealing a few hours here and there with a boy in the hayloft of her father's barn.

When she turned 21 her father, unable to keep her from wanting to experience more of life and more of boys, finally agreed to let her go to the distant town of Northbridge to cook and help school children. An ad that came in the form of a news sheet once a month to the little town of Lima where they resided, told of a need for a cook at a school and said there was a need for said person to help with studies. The ad was not completely clear but Sara made assumptions and convinced her father it was an enormous opportunity for a young woman just starting out.

Two months later, after a short correspondence with the school by post, and also with a man hired to escort her, Sara's father hugged her tightly and saw his daughter off by way of coach.

He was deeply saddened to see her go, but knew in his heart she would have too find her own way and hoped his teachings would be enough to see her through life without mishap and danger.

She had always been a strong-willed girl but shy and quiet outside her own surroundings. He was afraid for her safety and looked carefully into hiring a man of reputation to escort her to Northbridge; it would be a week of hard travel in a dangerous, wild country and he hired what he thought was the best man for the job.

She looked around the room not knowing what he looked like but he would know her by the riding apparel she wore and the red scarf around her neck.

Sara Spotted three women at a table at the far end of the room near a fireplace and sighed with relief and tentatively went to see if she could sit with them. She edged her way to the table, head down, careful not to look in any man's eyes that she passed. Gratefully, she took a seat as one of the women, seeing her discomfort, patted the chair beside her.

"Are you alone, dear?" the first asked. The other two women looked at her without much interest and appeared as if they might work in the inn. Their dresses were of the sort she imagined were worn by women of the night.

Conscious of her own attire she felt out of place in her riding clothes and wished she had thought to bring something more suitable for the busy inn. "I am alone and would be glad to sit here till my escort arrives. I've never been here and it's so full of activity," said Sara. Gwen nodded in agreement.

"Do you have a name, child? Mine is Gwen; this is Ruby and Stella."

The older woman Gwen gave her shoulder a brief squeeze, attempting to put her more at ease.

"I'm Sara pleased to meet you all." Gwen gave her a warm smile while the other two just nodded their heads in concord.

"What brings you here alone in this place dear?" Gwen asked.

"I'm to work at the town of Northbridge at the school there for young children."

"A teacher?"

"No, Ma'am, a cook. But I'm to help the children with classes as I'm able; I can read and write." She replied the pride showing on her face.

The other two looked up at her, unmistakable envy on their faces.

"Read and write? How did you learn?" asked Stella, her interest showing.

"'Twas my father that taught me," she said.

"Who's your escort, then?" asked Ruby

"His name is Matthew Landau; I've never met him, but he was hired by my father to take me to Northbridge."

"Landau! Oh you're in for a treat girl! That man is known well by the woman around here," said Stella.

"What do you mean known well?" she asked, her voice giving away the concern she felt.

"Oh, don't worry, dear, he's hired by many travelers. He knows his way around the country...amongst other things. He'll get you safely where you're going," replied Ruby.

Stella and Ruby smiled wickedly, Gwen gave them a little kick each, under the table. Sara looked confused and hoped he was not some scoundrel.

"Pay no attention to them, dear. He has a good reputation; I'm sure your father looked carefully before deciding to hire him," said Gwen

"Oh, he does have a reputation alright, and he can park his boots anytime he likes under my bed," Stella laughed.

Sara's face turned red, understanding what they meant. Her experience with men was limited and the boy she had frolicked with in the barn had taken her virginity in a clumsy showing of his affection. Later she had been left with a feeling of dissatisfaction and wanted so much to feel the attentions of a real man, someone strong and gentle that knew how to please a lady in ways she could only dream off.

"Look, there's your man, now" said Ruby, indicating with an open hand.

"He's looking a little rough today," Stella grinned. "I wonder what he's been up to."

Sara watched the man as he limped over to the bar; her attention was drawn to the blood streaks on his trousers and light spattering on his jacket sleeve. There was a smear on his face of what she thought must be dirt. Appalled that her father had chosen such an unrefined man to take her to Northbridge, she was tempted to run from the inn and take the coach back.

She couldn't help but wonder if her father had actually met with this man or had hired him through some third party. He looked seedier then the men drinking at the bar and concern showed on her brow and spread to her mouth. She shrank down in her chair hoping he wouldn't spot the red scarf she wore to alert him to her presence, as arranged by her father.

Gwen caught her look of horror and tried to ease her mind. "Don't worry, dear. He's just been hunting or something; he doesn't normally look that disheveled. I'm sure he'll clean up a bit before you start out."

"Wait here; I'll go fetch him and introduce you," said Stella, with a wicked smile.

Sara waited at the table, her apprehension growing far more quickly then she liked.

Stella sauntered to the bar, her hips swaying in a most provocative manner. Sara watched the two, carefully deriving information from the body language of the pair. He downed his drink and lightly pushed Stella away, clearly not wanting to be bothered. Stella flashed him a cold look and said something that made him glance in Sara's direction.

He grinned and limped to where she sat. Her heart pounded in her chest, as her anxiety grew.

His eyes were cold, steel-blue; sandy-colored hair, long and untrimmed, fell in a haphazard manner, covering part of his face. There were scars, one across his right cheek and another just below his chin running down to meet his thick neck. He was handsome in a rough sort of way, and it was obvious by his hands that he was used to extreme weather and hard work.

There was an air about him, something almost primal in nature, and she imagined he must be strong-tempered and wouldn't put up with any nonsense or whining behavior. She could see how a woman might be attracted to such a man, and how a wayward creature might run in fear of him. She decided then that he was not the type of man for her; she would prefer someone softer-tempered and gentle.

He held out his hand. "Afternoon, Miss, I'm Matt; pleased to meet you." There was disinterest clearly showing in his face, like he wanted nothing more to do with her.

"Thank you, I'm Sara," she said, wanting to scream and run away but shook his hand instead. How would she ever get through a week with this man? He seemed not to care at all!

The three women at the table looked on, amusement showing on their faces. They knew Matthew Landau well and had had the pleasure of his company from time to time. His strong demanding manner had not fooled them, and Stella worked him anytime he came to the Inn. Flaunting her self—hoping for a few minutes alone with him in his room.

"Miss if you will follow me, please? I have a room upstairs; you'll need to rest an hour or two before we leave. This is no fairytale adventure and there's no comfort on the way." His steel-blue eyes left no room for bargaining.

Abruptly he turned and indicated that she should follow him. Sara bewildered by his actions and coarse manner was now more nervous than ever. She looked at the three women and hoped that somehow they might help her. Did he really believe she would follow him to his room, without so much as a word? She couldn't see a way out of it. She threw her head back in a defiant gesture, hoping to make it clear she was not pleased, but did follow him.

"Good luck with your journey, dear," were the only words spoken by Gwen, as Sara followed him up the stairs. Her legs like rubber and hands shaking, her body following suit, wracked with a nervous twitch as they went up the stairs. Images of him ravaging her ran through her mind; she could almost feel his filthy body pressing her down on the bed and taking her in a most unpleasant manner. She really didn't need to rest and opened her mouth to say so, but it was too late—they were at his room.

Part Two

He opened the door to the room and with a sweep of his hand waved her in first. A gentleman's gesture, she thought. She couldn't help but notice that he did not smell pleasant as she passed him and hoped he would stay at a respectful distance. He gave her a brief look up and down her body and seemed to be completely uninterested in her womanly shape. In fact, he was looking instead for signs that she might be used to riding long distances or at the very least capable of coping with the outdoors for days at a time.

Looking hard he saw no sign of hard work, no indication she might have spent time outdoors and his own concern grew at the small pale-skinned woman before him. Her body was lithe enough and quite shapely but lacked any sort of real muscle or hardness. She would have a rude awakening soon enough when the trail got tough. Without a word he reached for her bag and thew it down on floor and then peeled off his shirt, revealing a hard muscular chest and light colored hair that ran down to his belly.

Oh, the gall, she thought, unclothing right before her very eyes. She reaffirmed her suspicions that he was indeed some scoundrel and she would be forced to endure some hideous groping and pawing at her ripe flesh before he would take her and overpower her with his strength.

"I'm gonna get cleaned up down the hall; you lay down for awhile and rest," he said, as his pants came off.

Sara, totally dismayed, turned her head and covered her eyes; she feared his underthings would be next. How dare he take such liberties right in front of her! Her own father would never have done anything like this; the most she had ever seen of him was his bare chest when he was out in the fields.

"Don't worry, miss, your father hasn't paid for that," he mused and grinned at her. "My job is to see you safe at Northbridge and nothing more. Later we will go over the rules and expectations. Now lay down as you were told and rest."

He left the room, then—to clean up, she presumed—and she was left feeling more than a little confounded. He had not done any of those things her mind had conjured up and she was slightly disconcerted at his ambivalence.

She was too nervous to lie down and instead sat in the only chair the room provided and wished she were somewhere else. He had been so quick she hadn't even seen how bad the cut was, which she surmised must be on his leg, and wondered if he was in pain and if he could ride. She decided she didn't care and could be as indifferent as he had been with her.

The door opened and she leaped from her chair almost forgetting where she was. Entering his face showed his displeasure at her standing and not resting on the bed.

She gasped at his leg and saw the red jagged line about four inches long just inside his left knee. He wore only a rough towel around his waist and she couldn't help but notice his forearms and thigh muscles were huge and obviously lean from hard work. The fresh scent of soap replaced the unpleasant odor from before. It wasn't proper to be undressed in front of a lady but he didn't seem to care and talked while opening a drawer and retrieving some clean clothes.

"It's a long, long ride, Sara, and as I said, there are no comforting little inns like this on the way. The land is wild and dangerous. I expect nothing more than your complete obedience to what I say, when I say it; it will save us both a lot of trouble. Elves rule this part of the country and if you don't do as I tell you, you may find yourself in the company of creatures much less gentlemanly then me," he said, slipping undershorts in place under the towel.

"Do you understand? Can I expect your complete attention?" he asked, and while pulling on his trousers noticed she was looking at the cut on his leg. "To answer your question regarding my leg—it is only a scratch and will be healed shortly. It does not affect my ability to ride. If I were you, I would concentrate on your own tolerances and rest before we begin. Now, do we have an understanding?"

"Yes, I understand," was all she could muster. His hard manner told her to keep quiet and not question him.

"Good. With that out of the way, we can continue. The horses are being prepared; we leave in an hour. I'll return here then; spend the time as you wish," he said, buttoning his shirt. Pulling his socks and boots on he gave her a slight smile and again left the room.

His demeanor had her more than a little anxious and she wondered what sort of man he was, it was apparent that he was not the sort to fool around and had not even asked after her welfare or how her ride on the coach had been. He did have a strong forceful way about him and she was determined to follow his lead and make him impressed with her riding abilities.

The hour passed much swifter then she expected. She was lost in thoughts of the journey ahead and wished her father had picked a man more chivalrous than him.

Matt returned to the room and indicated she should follow him outside. He didn't ask if she had rested and didn't seem to care at all how she had spent the hour; his indifference was maddening and she was determined to make him take notice of her.

It was much cooler outside than before and she pulled a cloak from her bag and wrapped it tightly around herself.

"Is that all you have, that mere cloak?"

"Yes. The school said to bring only a few clothes and nothing else."

"You'll freeze long before the journey's over. Did you think you would not need clothing for the outdoors?"

"It was just that the school said not to bring anything and my father said you would supply anything I might need."

"So I'm to clothe you too? Never mind; it's too late now I have some extra things on the packs," he said, his blue eyes flashing his disdain.

He was concerned taking a lone woman across the wild country. His guiding business mostly involved taking groups or just men, never a woman alone. The father had paid him well after seeing his reluctance to take Sara to Northbridge. He said the girl could ride well and he shouldn't have any problems with her keeping up, he was indeed proud of his daughter and asked that Matt stay with her right up to finding the school making sure she arrived there safely. He would do it, but with qualms about her abilities; she was a good-looking woman, but soft pampered woman were not the sort to take well to long rides over ever-changing country.

He had started his business years ago, seeing a need for guiding travelers across less-than-hospitable regions. He had grown up in these lands inhabited by all manner of creatures—including men—and had come to know their ways and how to avoid the more dangerous ones.

Elves, imps, demons and trolls all roamed the wilds, trolls being the most treacherous. They would steal men and woman from their camps and drag them to their hideaways in the hills using them for their amusement. Their huge bodies always, without exception, killed the unsuspecting traveler by crushing their bones while taking them in a most vile way. When they were done, they would hang the bodies for later cooking and eating. His reluctance to take a lone woman was not unfounded, but he had agreed and would take the safest route even if it meant having to spend an extra day or two on the trail.

It was his life, a guide and traveler, never staying to long in one place never seeking the love and tenderness a woman might provide. Although he had many women in different towns, there were many barmaids willing to please men in whatever fashion a man desired. He had learned a great deal in the bars and inns but his most valued lessens came from a Madame Katherine, who filled the need of many men in her school for the "arts" that involved teaching young woman about the fine art of arousal and carnal pleasures.

She had taught him personally what women desired saying it would make him a much sought-after man and although he never used it on any but the barmaids she believed that eventually he would settle in one place and want to take a wife. She told him it would be beneficial for him to now how to please a woman as well as how a woman could please him.