A Rucus in River's Bend

All characters involved in or witnessing sexual activity are over the age of eighteen.

A Ruckus in River's Bend

Chapter 1 - the Bloodied Road

The warrior slumped to one knee on the blood-spattered path. Panting, he glanced around for further threats, but thank the gods, found none. He surveyed the five bodies that lay strewn around him. He leaned his grandfather's bastard sword against his forehead and kissed the blade. The first two road bandits had fallen quickly. Overconfident, they had come towards him close together.

The next three learned from their fallen comrade's mistake and spread out. Those men knew their business and had come at him slowly, shields raised, weapons low. They had been trained well. Their gear was a mismatch of Northren and Talran armor, like most brigands at the time. He lifted his hand from his middle with a grimace and was dismayed by the amount of blood there. He also saw it oozing from the plates of his layered pauldrons on his left shoulder. The warrior lifted his left arm, and the pain told him that the sword had been sharp and had cut deep.

Planting the point of his sword in the earth, he gritted his teeth and tried to heave himself to his feet. When a searing bolt of pain lanced through his middle, his vision swam and his knees gave out. As darkness claimed him, his final thought was that with a civil war being waged here, it had likely been a poor time to visit the land of Denmir.

***

He awoke surprised to be alive. Falling in battle wasn't the goal for his people, like it seemed to be with the men of Denmir, but his gods would not look upon him poorly for doing so. He tried to move and groaned in pain. He heard subdued voices and the shuffle of feet. Initially alarmed, he was markedly less so when a vision of angelic beauty appeared before his eyes.

The woman was tanned and blonde-haired, with a natural beauty that was amplified by her lovely smile. "You're awake. It's about time. We thought we were going to lose you a couple of times."

He tried to move again, and she pushed him back with a firm hand. "Don't move. If you tear out my stitches, my husband will be digging your grave by morning. Which will improve his mood, not a whit." She reached to a nearby table and brought a cup of water. She fed it to him with a spoon and looked him in the eye. "Who are you? Your armor tells us you are no Denman."

The man smiled weakly. "I am Rael, son of Rafe, of the Keld."

The woman's face showed her surprise. "The Keld? Of the northern isles? Well, the stories say that we are at least cousins then, traveler." She smiled softly. "Welcome to River's Bend, Rael, son of Rafe. I am Kimbery, wife of Hutha, and mother of Fordred, the boldest ten-year-old boy who ever lived."

The woman disappeared behind an improvised curtain; a blanket hung on some rope. He looked around. The house was like many in Denmir. Constructed of stone to the top of the wall with a peaked thatched roof supported by strong timbers. He could hear wood burning in a hearth nearby and could smell cooking food. He lay on a cot that likely had seen generations of use, but his bedding was clean, and he drifted off to sleep with the smell of venison in his nostrils.

***

Rael awoke again, feverish. He smelled liniment and herbs in the thick poultice that was wrapped tightly around his middle. He heard voices beyond the curtain.

"That man will join his ancestors soon if you don't go and get her," he heard Kimbery say in hushed tones.

A man's deep voice replied. "Bring that witch to town? We don't need her kind."

"Damn it Hutha, you were quick enough to fetch her when Fordred got a fever after being bitten by that fox in your trap."

Hutha growled. "He's not our people. Like as not, he's a Talran spy. Why did you even bring him here?"

Years ago, the Talran Empire had come to Denmir with honeyed words and gold, and over time had peacefully taken over much of the southern end of the continent. The men who resisted now called themselves the Northren, and the conflict had gone on for years.

"I found him dying in the road, surrounded by the bodies of five of Grim Jack's thugs. Such a man deserves better than to die alone on the road. Grim Jack is an enemy to every

honest

person in Denmir."

"He is not a Denman. We owe him nothing," Hutha said without conviction.

Kimbery scoffed. "A fine thing from the man whose miserable life was saved

twice

by Thalion?"

"Thalion, again!" Hutha yelled. "Always you throw that fucking elf in my face. Isn't it enough that I gave him my father's house, and let him work in my mill?"

For the first time, Kimbery raised

her

voice. "It's

my

mill! Built by

my

grandfather! And don't you ever forget it! Now, you

go get

Edith or there will be a cold hearth for you for many nights to come, Hutha."

Rael heard the man's heavy steps to the door. "I never do forget it, wife. I never do."

***

"Wake up, young ranger. Wielder of his grandfather's sword. Wake up and speak with old Edith." Rael heard the voice in his dream and in a few moments his eyes fluttered open.

A robed older woman sat on a stool at his bedside. The flower of her youth was wilting, but it was far from withered. She was still a handsome woman. She smiled down at him, with dark locks of her hair curling around her tanned face. "How are you feeling, young man?"

Rael blinked. The fever was gone. The thumping headache that had been plaguing him had eased.

"Much better. Are my wounds healed?" He tried to sit up, but a deep soreness in his torso and shoulder told him that lying quietly remained the better option.

Edith smiled at him. "My magics and potions have cured your infection and subsequent fever. But your wounds are still deep, and care must be taken. Let yourself heal. Kimbery is a capable woman and will take good care of you, despite the buffoon she married."

Rael chuckled and then groaned. Even laughter was a poor idea at this point. Edith gently peeled back his covers and let her eyes and hands examine his wounds and his naked body. After lingering for a long moment on his cock, she met his blue eyes again.

"After you are well, young man, perhaps you will visit me in my forest home. To thank me for my help, hmm?" A hint of a smile creased her face. "Perhaps I would have some chores for you to do. It is lonely living alone and there are things I cannot do on my own."

Rael smiled. "I would be happy to do so, good shaman."

The older woman grinned and drew the covers back up. Her hand slid gently over the bulge between his legs as she did so. She patted his arm, then rose without difficulty and ducked around the curtain. He heard her speaking to Kimbery.

"Continue to give him the rest of this potion in his water until it's gone, and for your ancestor's sake, bathe him," the wise woman said tersely.

Kimbery stammered a bit, "I was going to, but... you know... Hutha. I didn't want him to think..."

Edith scoffed. "Hang what

he

thinks. Like as not, he'll spend the evening sampling Dunn's latest barrel at the River Nymph, tonight as most. Send the boy to Ymma's. Let her teach him Kings and Castles. He's a smart boy, he'll catch on quick. And she will be happy for the company."

***

Rael was deeply asleep when Kimbery peeled back the covers from his naked body. Edith's potion had seen to that, as a still patient heals faster than a restless one. She looked over to see that he had moved enough to use the chamber pot. His wounds had been cleaned, but the rest of his body was covered with dried sweat and road grime. She sat on the stool and pulled over the bucket of soap and warm water.

Her eyes roamed over his impressive physique. River's Bend was a working village. Not a fat sluggard among them, but none had a body to match this young man. Every muscle was clearly defined and well-developed. He was broad in the chest and shoulders and his thighs were like tree trunks. A couple of inches shorter than six feet, it gave him a powerful stocky appearance that was uncommon among the tall Denmen. The thick, corded arms that could wield the bastard sword in the corner were bronzed by the sun.

She squeezed the water from her washcloth and began bathing his body. She looked at his handsome face and mane of dark brown hair. His eyes remained closed. Though she fought against it, her eyes kept coming back to his impressive cock. It lay flaccid across the top of his thigh, and she left it for last. When she picked it up in her hand and began to wash it, a shudder ran down her body. How she wanted to see it engorged and angry. She felt it stiffen in her hand and panicked for a moment. The man did not stir, nor did his eyelids flutter, but her nerves got the best of her. She finished quickly and then covered his body with the blanket again.

When she set the bucket on the table in front of the hearth, her heart was racing. Kimbery leaned against it and took a deep breath. She felt the wetness between her legs and moaned softly as her right hand pressed into her traitorous cleft, long ignored by her husband.

***

"Yes! That's it Hutha, fuck me!" Lucia Dalerius moaned softly. She lay on her back on the soft quilt, with her legs spread up in the air. Hutha's eyes devoured the Talran woman's soft, round body, so different from the other women of River's Bend. From Denman women in general. He thrust his cock forcefully and watched her big tits undulate with every impact. She turned her head as a lean, elven man slid up on the bed. Her eyes fell on his erect cock, and she smiled wantonly.

"Yes Thalion, put it in my mouth. I want both of you inside me." Grinning, the handsome elf set the head of his cock on Lucia's plump red lips. Her lovely dark hair, so different from the fair Denmen, was spread out around her beautiful face. She rolled her head back and opened her mouth wide. Thalion moaned as his cock slid into the back of her throat.

Hutha growled as he watched her lips around the elf's cock. He desperately wanted this woman to himself, but the house belonged to Thalion, and the only way Lucia would consent was to have them both. "Blast that fucking Talran slut," he thought to himself. He pulled her thighs into him and hammered into her fiercely. She stifled a wail as she reached down, began rubbing her clit, and sighed contentedly.

Truth be told, neither of these men was skilled enough to make her cum by penetration alone, but with a little help from a tongue or fingers, she'd had some marvelous orgasms with both for months. A little bottle from the hedge wizard Edith kept unwanted babies from growing in her womb. Though a few men had tried wooing her, none interested her for more than a roll in the sheets. Lucia and her brother Cassian had moved to town years ago, before the current conflict, and ran the local trading post.

Lucia grasped Thalion's hairless balls with her free hand and caressed them gently. His cock pushed against the back of her throat and his fingers laced into her lustrous hair. She loved it when a man fucked her mouth. She wanted to belong to a man who could take her, dominate her, and chain her to him with his strength and will. Thalion and the young bard Sperling wanted to have her, but they were not that man. Perhaps this... outlander at Kimbery's that everyone had been speaking of would be such.

It wasn't long before the combined efforts of the three of them brought on a very satisfactory orgasm. Her body writhed on the sheets, and she moaned loudly around her mouthful. Until

that

man appeared, these provincials would have to do.

***

"So, Hutha, tell us about the outlander in your home," Cassian asked offhandedly from his chair in the common room of the River Nymph Inn. The fire crackled in the center of the room and the rest of the patrons lifted their heads and looked at Hutha intently. It was a cozy place, owned and operated by a bawdy red-haired woman, Wulfwyn, who was entering her middle years. All the locals knew not to cross her. Despite her vivacious nature, they had all seen her knock out men twice her size. The bartender was a younger, fair-minded man named Dunn. The two weren't married but shared a bed. They both listened casually from the bar.

Hutha waved away the Talran shopkeeper's question. "Bah! He has a strange accent and says he's a Keld ranger from the northern isles. On some sort of pilgrimage to see the world, if you can believe that nonsense." The revelation was met with interested chatter amongst the rest of the patrons. Legends said that the Keld had once been Denmen who left Denmir during a time of trouble a thousand years ago. They settled in the snowy elevations of Wulstav, an island nation across the northern sea. They shared the island with a race of fair-skinned elves.

Hutha's face took on a thoughtful look. "Ymma and Kimbery say he was surrounded by the bodies of five of Grim Jack's men, though. And then there's his sword."

The rest of the community had heard about the five dead bandits. A soot-covered man raised his head from his ale mug. "Tell us about the weapon," said Alric the smith. He ran his hand over his grimy beard, knowing a cold bath in the river was his next stop before returning home to his beautiful red-haired wife.

Hutha frowned at the smith. The two men had been friends throughout their youth, but that had ended when Alric sided with the Talrans. Hutha, a loyal Northren even if not a fighting man, answered, knowing another man would ask, anyway. "It's a hand and a halfer, and far lighter than it should be. The blade is made of some sort of weird metal. It is wicked sharp."

"Blue," Alric said softly.

Everyone looked at him curiously. "Huh?" said Hutha dumbly.

Alric looked at him pointedly. "The metal. Is it pale blue? Like the forget-me-not flower?" Hutha nodded. Alric's face fell to his ale mug again, and he listened as Hutha continued to bellyache about having the injured man in his home. As if he was the one caring for him.

Hutha laughed and raised his glass. "On the other hand, I'll bet that blade is worth a lord's ransom. If the stranger dies, I'll be sitting pretty, I figure."

Not for the first time, Alric glared angrily at the sawyer.

***

Kimbery finished the night's dishes and groaned as she washed her hands. The young stranger had come to occupy her every thought. His taught body with its scars and corded muscles. She imagined it leaning over her, pumping into her, his ruggedly handsome face between her hands.

She found herself at the curtain, looking down on him as he slept. Kimbery might have been able to step away until her eyes fell on the tent in the blankets covering his torso. Her breath caught in her throat and before she knew it, she was kneeling at the bedside.

She saw his erect cock twitch as she gently peeled back the blankets. She gasped and her mouth watered as she viewed the magnificent organ. Large but not too large, thick, but not too thick. "Casea, forgive me," she whispered as she reached out and caressed it gently. His cockhead was red and a bead of pre-cum formed on the tip. She glanced at his face to find a slight smile. Whatever the man was dreaming, it must have been pleasing.

Kimbery's hand grasped his cock and slowly stroked it. Gods! How she wanted to feel it stretching her quim, filling her to the brim. A low moan escaped the man's lips, and she stopped for a moment to see if he would wake. When he did not, her hand started again. The stranger's cock was hard and beautiful. She spat into her hand and mixed it with the oozing precum, spreading the slickness down his shaft. Her mouth watered and she wanted to feel his cock slide over her tongue, but didn't dare.

Her hand sped up its effort, but kept a gentle grip that she knew Hutha had always enjoyed. A minute later, the young man groaned sleepily and cum erupted from his cockhead, spilling thickly over her hand. Rael sighed in his sleep with a faint smile and began to snore softly. Kimbery sighed and reluctantly drew the covers over the man's body. She returned to the hearth and cleaned up her hand with her dishrag and buried it in the laundry basket. Her heart was beating so hard she could hear the blood pounding in her ears.

She threw two logs on the fire and blew out the lanterns. In the low light, she stripped off her dress and ran her hands over her body. Her body was lean and firm. Her breasts were large, having nursed a hungry boy years ago, but they were still firm and had once turned Hutha's head every evening. She slipped between the blankets and lay back on her pillow. Her fingers danced across her vulva in a well-practiced way she had grown accustomed to and enjoyed the face and body that had become the focus of her masturbatory fantasies. She brought her hand to her nose and inhaled the scent of the young man's cum as she slipped the fingers of her other hand into her wetness.

Chapter 2 - River's Bend

Four weeks later, Rael sat on the bench outside Hutha and Kimbery's L-shaped home. From the moment he'd been able to walk, he'd been sitting outside, enjoying the summer warmth. River's Bend wasn't a large town, barely a hamlet in truth. It existed on the Maraval River between two baronies. Folks either worked at the wood mill, the inn, or the trading post, catering to the many travelers who came through.

He'd met every citizen of River's Bend in short order, and several were regular visitors. Kimbery's ten-year-old son Fordred had adopted him as an older brother and was always pestering him for stories of his travels. Ymma, the old woman, who, with Kimbery, had rescued him from the road, found a captive audience in him for her fanciful stories and tales of her youth. The beautiful brunette, Lucia, seemed to find endless excuses to walk by even though there was nothing beyond the house but the watchman's walk, a raised platform that the soldiers from the barony used to look down over the town. She did little but smile and wave, but her interest was clear.

Alric the smith also found an excuse that day. "Good morning, Rael, are your wounds healing well?" the man asked loudly from the road.

Rael smiled at the rough-looking blonde man. He seemed the epitome of the Denman male, just as Kimbery seemed the perfect Denman woman. "Aye, Alric, I am better every day. Would you come and sit for a while? I can see in your face that your visit has a purpose."

Alric's face fell. "Alas boy, I am no longer welcome in this home, though I helped build it. War makes enemies of brothers in Denmir. But I'm happy to invite you to supper in my home tonight if you feel up to it."

Rael nodded and told the man that he would be glad to do so, having heard tales of his wife Inga's fine cooking. The smith looked at him a little sheepishly. "Would you do a smith a favor, then?" Their eyes met, and Rael nodded again. "Bring the sword with you?"

***

Rael sat on the edge of his cot as Kimbery combed his damp hair. His skin was still cool from his bath in the river. She put the comb in her teeth and separated his hair in her hands to begin the braid.

"Thank you for your care, dear lady. I owe you a debt I can never repay," he said softly.

Kimbery took the comb from her teeth and smiled. "Think nothing of it. I'm just doing my duty as a good Denman." She started and gasped as she felt the young warrior's firm hand caressing her calf below the hem of her homespun dress. She slapped his shoulder half-heartedly. "Stop that. Be a gentleman."

He looked up at her, and their eyes met. "I am

not

a gentleman." His hand slid up the inside of her leg as his other curled around the back of her thigh, holding her tight. She gasped again as he squeezed the meat of her thigh.