Daughter of the Sun

IN THE PREVIOUS CHAPTERS...

Secretly enslaved by the mind controlling powers of the Night Lord, Queen Artemis begins to act accordingly to His orders, to set the foundations for the birth of the Empire of the Darkness. As a first act, she captures Alanor, her court magician and sister of Queen Alexandra of Heath Hill, triggering in this way the was against that city.

Alerted in her dreams by the Goddess of the Sun about the incoming rising of the darkness, Queen Hailey of the Kingdom of the South begins to gather her forces to prepare for the clash. Her lover Darya manages to convince Duchess Dasha of Vinevris to dispatch her army to Syfall, while her sister Eluan is still on the road to reach the city of Hadun and the court of Duchess Sung...

https://www.literotica.com/s/daughter-of-the-sun-ch-04

https://www.literotica.com/s/daughter-of-the-sun-ch-07

***

The soldiers guarding the eastern gate of the Royal Palace greeted him by raising their hands to their foreheads as General Bardas, Lord Commander of the land armies of Troygrove, passed through the great portals and ventured outside, into the city streets.

The air of the early morning was oppressively warm, heralding another long, extremely muggy summer day. Beyond his clothes, Bardas was already almost sweating, despite wearing only a light, sleeveless linen jacket which barely served to contain the ample muscles of his mighty chest, knee-length canvas trousers and a pair of open sandals, whose laces were tied behind his powerful calves. At his hips, his ever-present belt of black leather held the scabbard of a short sword, provided with a wide and very dangerous blade.

Bardas observed for a moment the large square in front of the Palace portals, which was already teeming with life in those early hours of the morning. It was market day, and traders and merchants of any kind had already set up their stalls, while the early-rising women and men of the city were wandering among those to purchase goods for the most basic necessities, haggling lively to try to get them at the lowest possible price.

On the whole, it was a rather depressing sight, Bardas thought; a mass of needy and poorly dressed people, haggling over the price for a piece of hard crust of bread or for a portion of a fish that wasn't even that fresh.

That sight wasn't nothing new to him; after all, Troygrove had been laying in a state of general decadence and poverty since long time, as result of the onerous compensations that it had been forced to pay to its historical rival city, Heath Hill, following to the failed attempt of invasion that had occurred seven years earlier, when the vainglorious Queen Mareen still ruled over the city.

For a few moments he stood there, pondering the best route to take in order to reach the destination he had in plan for that morning. After a bit, he decided in the end to walk toward an alley which was opening on the right side of the square, flanked by the crumbling mass of two large, old buildings, choosing in this way to enter into the infamous streets of Barren Lane, the poorest neighborhood of the whole city.

It was definitely not the safest route which could allow him to get to the place to which he was headed, the Great Temple of Neryss, the Goddess of the Sea and Oceans; however, it was for sure the shortest one and, furthermore, the one that would have provided him the best chances to proceed in the most undetected way possible.

Certainly, it was not for a pious sentiment of devotion that he was leading his steps towards the major cult center of the protector deity of the city; Artemis had instructed him to present himself to High Priestess Meghane, to bring her the orders that the Queen had emitted specifically for her. Very strict, precise orders, thought Bardas as he walked through the narrow ally. And quite disturbing ones as well.

Since several days, the mutated behavior of the Queen had been cause of great concerns to him. The General had known Artemis for many years, long before her ascension to the throne of Troygrove, since the times when, as a common criminal and smuggler, she had been forced by Queen Mareen to choose her punishment between joining the land army as a soldier or serving as a prostitute for the crew of a mercantile ship. A choice on which Artemis didn't think twice.

As she had joined the army, Bardas had immediately taken that woman under his protective wing who, to his eyes, appeared as ferocious and wounded as a lioness in a cage. Her impressive discipline and innate willpower, combined with the harshness of the training, had soon turned her a perfect fighter and soldier and, from there, she had been capable to climb quickly the ranks until she became a field commander.

The troops led by Artemis, together with those led by Bardas himself, had been the only ones to achieve any victory against the forces of Heat Hill in the otherwise disastrous military campaign launched by Mareen. Upon the Queen's infamous death, drowned in the waters of Skavos river while personally dueling against the rival sovereign, Alexandra, a power vacuum had formed, which could have potentially drawn Troygrove into a bloody civil war between the various military commanders.

It was at that point that Bardas had chosen to support Artemis, deeming her a better ruler than any other possible contender to the throne, even better than himself. The prestige and respect of the troops that she had been capable to gain on the battlefield, combined with the military support of the experienced General, had dissuaded all of the other potential claimers from opposing to her rise. Artemis had thus become Queen at the age of thirty, and the risk of civil war had been in this way averted.

Bardas' positive expectations about Artemis had been confirmed over time. She was a combative woman, gifted with an iron character, not sweet at all, a warrior and a rule of indomitable will. She rarely asked for his advice, nor for the one of the other member of her personal Council, the Admiral Nyphoros, often limiting herself to inform the two men about the final outcome of her decisions. She was however an highly intelligent woman, and her political choices always proved in the end to be wise and well thought out.

At least, until six days ago.

The decision to arrest and imprison, without any apparent reason, the young Princess Alanor Rosendhal, sister of Queen Alexandra, court sorceress and official ambassador of the city of Heath Hill, had left completely stunned the two elderly councilors, both for the suddenness of the fact itself and for the devastating implications it would have brought.

Since that day, Alanor had been locked inside the Tower of the Kraken, the ancient lighthouse converted into a prison-tower of maximum security, located on a small rocky island not afar from the harbor of Troygrove, placed under the strictest surveillance night and day.

And to ensure that the matter about her imprisonment had remained secret, on that same day Artemis had given orders to make disappear all the people belonging to the Princess' entourage. Within one hour from her capturing, all those men and women, personal servants of Alanor, had been arrested by the Palace Guards of the Captain Theo Lascaris.

The fate of those unfortunate people had remained unknown to Bardas until today; perhaps they had been imprisoned in the same tower as their Princess, or perhaps they had been deported to some more remote place, in the wild lands far to the north. Or perhaps, Bardas couldn't have excluded that option, they could have even been killed.

With that gesture, Artemis had wanted to declare war again over Heath Hill, a war long and silently craved, for the revenge and to reconquer the ancient supremacy, and she had wanted for the first blow to arrive strong and unexpected over the head of the enemy. With Alanor as her prisoner and unable to communicate in any way, her sister Alexandra would have never become aware of the threat that was about to strike her city.

Furthermore, the Princess of Heath Hill represented a hostage of the highest value. With a

single, audacious gesture which put Alanor in her hands, Artemis had already practically almost won the war before it even began. A very brilliant, yet diabolical, move.

Bardas' army was now in the process of finalizing its preparations, accordingly to what the Queen had ordered him. Soon, he would have set off eastward, with the order to destroy every inhabited center he may have found within the territory of Heath Hill, taking the surviving population into captivity.

From the north, his son Konstantin would have moved with a second army, joining him by the the banks of the Skavos river, the waterway that traditionally marked the borders of the two kingdoms, to further reinforce his ranks. A letter from him, received by Bardas just the day before, confirmed that the preparations were now almost complete on his side as well.

It would be the first time that father and son would have gone to battle together. At the time of the last war, Konstantin was just a sixteen-year-old boy, still too young to fight in the army. Now, at twenty-three, he was a young elite officer in a large cavalry squadron, stationed to patrol the northern territories of the Kingdom, close to the borders with the savage lands of the Hurlands. Bardas couldn't wait being able to see his son's value directly on the battlefield.

He turned into a fetid alley on his left, a dark and dirty opening full of rubbish and pieces of rubble that had fallen from the crumbling walls of the old buildings around. His destination was located near the eastern end of the city, right on the shore. The city of Troygrove had been built on a small peninsula that stretched into the sea, from northeast to southwest; while the western coast was used as a large mercantile and military port, the eastern one was mostly used by fishermen, who took to the sea aboard their small fishing boats, with a part of the coast dedicated exclusively to the use and supply for the Temple.

Wandering alone across the narrow alleys and the dingy streets of Barren Lane was always a risky choice for anyone, he was perfectly aware of that. Criminals of every kind could have been lurking around every corner, perfectly capable, in their misery, of doing anything for the chance to get their hands on even a paltry piece of silver.

Bardas, however, had no any fear of them. He had walked up and down those alleys more than once, even at night sometimes, alone and without any escort, and he knew how only very few madmen would have dared to attack a man of his size and an expert fighter like he was. His physical strength was such that, even unarmed, just a single punch delivered by one of his immense hands could have easily shattered a man's skull. And some of Barren Lane's worst street criminals had learned this the hard way, at the cost of their life.

"Lord Commander Bardas!"

Bardas stopped abruptly, irritated by the fact that his attempt to move unnoticed across the streets could have been discovered so soon, and that that shrill voice calling his name might have revealed his presence to the entire surrounding area.

However, his irritation evaporated rapidly, as he looked up to the first floor of one of the dilapidated buildings standing to his right. From behind a rusty iron railing, two naked whores were standing on a balcony overlooking the alley, waving their hands to call for his attention.

They were no longer fresh and young anymore; in his life however, Bardas had never been too picky in regard to women and, despite their mature age, he found them to be still absolutely attractive. Hearing his name being called, three other of those pleasure ladies, all of them in their complete birth suits, hurried out from the crumbling edifice and stepped onto the balcony to greet him.

"Your favorite squadron is here, ready to obey your every command, my Lord," the one who had called him, a woman with long dark-red hair and a tanned skin partially ruined by wrinkles and old, faded tattoos, said in a teasing tone while miming a military salute to him, a gesture which caused a burst of raucous laughter coming from her companions. "Shall we have the honor of having our great General direct our maneuvers this morning?"

Bardas showed a contrite smile, thus with a spark of evident amusement in his eyes. He knew very well those five women, as well as their other colleagues who were not there with them on the balcony in that moment. He had been an affectionate customer of that dirty and decadent brothel since long time, and all of those girls already got fucked by him several times, sometimes even in pairs or in small groups of three or more, during the nights in which the General had been feeling particularly horny. He was also fairly certain to have made pregnant at least a couple of them over time, although, luckily for him, none had ever shown up at his door presenting him the unwanted fruit of those paid unions.

"I'm very sorry, girls," the old military answered from the street. "Unfortunately other, much less pleasant duties await for me this morning."

"Your only duty is to come here and fuck us all," another of the women replied, a small blonde in her late thirties, as if annoyed by his answer. "We're so horny, General, so desperately horny; aren't you really going to leave us here all by ourselves, and to do everything alone with each other?"

As if to demonstrate the truthfulness of her statements, the blonde whore gave a sudden, powerful squeeze and an eager suck to the massive breasts of the companion next to her, a tall ebony woman, an unexpected gesture that caused her to emit a loud moan of excitement and pleasure.

"Mya is absolutely right," the ebony girl said afterward, panting, her voice deep and sensual as she wrapped her arm around her friend's slender waist. "We are all in need a real man, a true dominant, one who can make us feel the power of his staff of the command. Please, General, come upstairs and show us how you can properly dominate a woman!"

Her name was Danisha, and she had already experience his staff of the command planted in every hole of her luscious body several times. Of those sluts, Bardas was almost certain she was one of the two he had mothered, the other one being Tana, the older red-haired woman who had called him at first.

They all certainly had a way with teasing, Bardas reflected as she looked at them, as dirty thoughts began to crowd into his head. After all, to entice potential customers to spill their coin in that poor brothel was exactly their job, and they all perfectly know how much he loved submissive women, who in bed responded to his every command with the same promptness of trained soldiers. Beneath his trousers, his cock started to twitch restlessly, getting itself ready to respond to the attracting call of those provoking women on the balcony.

The General was aware how such demonstration of enthusiasm in his regard was deliberately exaggerated, with the sole purpose of piquing his ego and convincing him to stop by them. However, with satisfaction, he also knew that there was a grain of truth behind such display of desire.

At fifty-six, despite his no longer young age, he still remained a thoroughbred stallion who, with his virile power and his considerable size, knew very well how to make a woman properly enjoy. A sexual encounter with Bardas could have been a remarkable ordeal for a woman, especially for an inexperienced one. He was capable to last for long, and was used to hammer heavily. The General had lost count of how many women and girls he had knocked completely unconscious with the rough force of bouts of orgasms.

And all those sluts had surely enjoyed themselves with him. He had felt their spasmodic contractions around his hardness as they screamed, begging him to not stop, claiming to desiring for more. There was neither simulation nor exaggeration in those cries, only the voice of the pleasure of women who had completely lost control, being totally owned by a male so much stronger and powerful than them.

Bardas had to make a serious and conscious effort not to give in to the temptation to change his plan for the day and to move upstairs to submit all the five of them at once to his carnal desires. But, as a soldier, first and foremost, he had to stay focused on his duty in regards to his Queen.

"I'll be back soon, girls," he said with a reluctant farewell nod. "In the meanwhile, make sure to keep yourself warm and wet for me. I will return with a nice bag of silver for you...and with a beautiful iron rod for all of you to share."

With these words, he resumed his walk down the alley, amidst the exclamations of disdain of the prostitutes and their high pleas for him to come back.

He turned another corner, hoping to not make any further encounter in those streets, feeling a bit uncomfortable as his semi-hard cock reminded to him how urgently he needed to copulate. He hadn't touched a woman for almost a week now, from that same, fatal morning in which the Queen got Alanor arrested.

The sight of the young sorceress' beautiful body, the so long craved object of his desires, openly exposed to his eager eyes for the first time, as the soldier's knife had torn her tunic to shreds, had turned on his animal senses uncontrollably. To let off steam, that same day Bardas had found no other remedy than to convince a young palace servant, not a particularly attractive girl but one well known for her ease of morals with men, to give herself to him.

He had banged her for more than an hour, in the semi-darkness of an utility room, imagining himself owning the beautiful Princess of Heat Hill as the raging thrusts of his verge almost opened the servant girl literally in two. Another one who had discovered how she couldn't handle his animalistic passion for too long, and who had found herself unconscious before he had finished, waking up alone later on, laying among rags and baskets, coated in his seed in and out.

Not that she had disliked the rough treatment at all. Judging by the obvious gestures she had started to make to him every time they had the chance to pass each other in a corridor, it was obvious how the girl was more than eager to repeat the experience with him.

But the General didn't want her. He wanted Alanor and nobody else.

Alanor had become his obsession and the object of his erotic dreams since the very first instant he set his eyes on her, three years ago, at the moment of her arrival at the court of Troygrove. The General had tried to approach the young Princess and sorceress during the reception banquet organized by the Queen to welcome her as the new ambassador of Heath Hill, with the clear intent and desire to have her in his bed that very evening.

The petite girl, however, had shown herself completely indifferent to his attempts to take the conversation beyond what was strictly requested by the court protocol, and soon she had left him there to go and chat with other people in the hall, evidently more interesting for her for a reason or another.

The General however had not given up, and for the next three years he had done everything he could to try to convince the young sorceress to succumb to his masculine desires, with the same determination he would have put in the siege of a city. Time and again he had tried witty conversations, or attempted to impress her with his physical masculine prowess, or trying to woo her with precious gifts.

But there was never any way. Indifferent to all his attempts to seduce her, the beautiful sorceress had always remained in his regards as cold a piece of ice. And to make the things even worst, to Bardas had been almost an affront to his personal honor to become aware of how Alanor had rejected the advances of a man of his rank just to then give herself to an insignificant soldier of the Palace Guard, one of the men of Captain Lascaris.