Drowning At Dusk Ch 05

We smelled Arkostead before we saw it; unlike every other city I'd visited, its aroma was actually a sweet one. We soon spotted the source of that fragrance: an expanse of purple-leaved trees that stretched out from the city's walls. Magically enchanted, the forest cast off endless waves of sugary scents that warded off the stench of pollution, fish, and the general stink of so many thousands of people crammed together.

I smiled and breathed in deep.

"The only city in the world I actually relish the smell off," Dazyar said with a smile of his own.

The distant, imposing walls came into view: massive slabs of red stone, dotted with looming towers adorned with banners of the Commonwealth. Beyond the wall laid the five hills that served as the primary districts of the city. Some were covered in great teeming slums: hovels, cabins, huts, and even tents. Marble temples and palatial manors dotted other hills, while another was home to a vast, verdant forest.

The largest and most prominent hill was the one that chilled me to the bone. The entire hill served as a massive fortress: three blade-like towers, each connected with an intricate web of iron bridges. Even at that vast distance I could see the glow of warding runes, and the banners of the Lord-Protector.

That imposing fortress was the home of the man who had hired me to kill Xelari.

Entering the city proved to be quite the task: an influx of merchants and other travelers had created a long line at the main gate, and we lingered on the tree-lined road for hours before the line even budged. As an experienced assassin I was aware of alternate ways into the city, but I didn't dare risk using them just yet. If I got caught, our entire scheme to investigate Heroth and Patrigan would be compromised before it could truly begin. Better to just languish in boredom while we waited for our turn.

Dazyar eyed up a large group of mercenaries a hundred or so feet behind us in line, his eyes twinkling.

"I think I know a ditty or two about that mercenary band's founder. I daresay there's a bit of silver waiting for me. Excuse me, my ladies." He bowed, collected his fiddle, and marched off to entertain the mercenaries.

Xelari huffed, blowing a few stray strands of hair from her face.

"Are delays of this nature normal?" she grumbled.

"It's a market day, so yes. And I also imagine the city watch may have adjusted their patrols in response to the cryptwolf reports. That may have messed up the toll gate schedules."

She wrinkled her nose and glanced over to where Dazyar had gone. A few laughs and cheers rose from the mercenaries, and the bard hopped up onto one of their wagons.

"I could use a distraction of my own."

"We could go over and enjoy the music."

Xelari huffed and gave me a cold, intense stare.

The sort of stare that usually proceeded a wicked punishment or a cruel bout of teasing.

The sort of stare that made my sex drip with anticipation, and made my thighs quiver with need.

Within minutes she had me bent over a fallen log a hundred feet from the road, where we could just make out the waiting convoy of travelers through the foliage of the enchanted forest. My ass was raised high and ready for her, my sex trembling with the cool evening air and my growing desire.

Before I could beg, she had affixed the strap-on around her waist.

"Far more enjoyable than listening to that bard, don't you think?" she hissed.

One hand tightened in my short red curls, and the other slapped my ass. The sound echoed through the forest, spooking a few nearby birds.

Before I could chide her for being so loud, she slipped the fake cock into my pussy, and I bit down on my wrist to stifle a cry of relief.

Xelari showed me no mercy, no respite. Both hands gripped my hair as she pounded against me, and she let out muffled little growls and grunts as she worked.

"When we fucked Terakh, you screamed like a banshee when I used your ass," she murmured under her breath. "Was that just because he was filling your other hole, or do you like it up there?"

"Depends," I muttered in between desperate pants, then whined as she slipped it out of me. "Some lovers just...wanted the thrill of it, caring little for my pleasure. Wanted to fuck me there as a point of pride, or just to degrade me. It can feel good, though. Especially if I play with myself."

I looked over my shoulder, admiring how beautiful and commanding she looked with that toy cock affixed to her. She met my eyes with a cold, imperious glare, and reached into her satchel for a vial of oil. After soaking the dildo, she took hold of it and gently gripped the small of my back.

"Relax," she hissed.

The tip slide home. A deep, nearly painful pressure flared in my ass, but after a few deep breaths I relaxed and allowed her to push in further. Her hand ran in soothing little circles on my lower back, then she raked her nails up the length of my spine.

That additional spark of pain helped to lessen the pressure, and I let out an exultant moan when she finally hilted herself within me.

"Fuck," I panted. "So full."

"I'll go easy on you today," she said, her voice still cold and controlled. "But eventually..."

Both of her hands reached up to grasp my hair, and the ache in my neck from her tugs made me grin with hungry delight.

She pulled back for a slow and steady thrust, and worked into an easy and patient rhythm. As I murmured her name, I slipped my fingers between my legs, plunging two fingers inside my sex before rubbing them over my aching clit.

The pressure in my ass and the tender strokes of my fingers...

Voids below.

It was going to be a damned good one, and with how close we were to the other waiting travelers, it would be a struggle not to be overheard.

Voices from my right distracted me from the rising tide. I glanced over, muffled a whimper by biting down on my cheek, and saw three figures wearing the same uniforms as the mercenaries Dazyar was currently entertaining. Each of them carried a basket loaded with mushrooms and berries; they'd likely been out foraging in the woods while their comrades waited by the road.

And their path would likely take them within fifty feet of where Xelari was currently plowing my ass.

Grunting, the dusk elf grabbed my shoulders and shoved me to the ground. My cheek pressed into the moss and Xelari followed me down, crouching behind me and sliding the toy back into my ass. Both of us were now hidden-albeit barely-by the massive fallen tree I'd previously been braced against.

"Quiet, now," she hissed, but made no effort to cover my mouth with her hand.

Instead I bit down on my own forearm as the foraging mercenaries wandered on past. My position meant I couldn't see them, though I could hear their chatter and the occasional crunch of a branch beneath their boots.

Xelari kept up those slow, deep, and wonderful thrusts, and remained completely silent as she worked, once more astounding me with the immaculate control she had over her own body.

Voids, I loved the contrast between that poise and the way she could surrender and lose control, the way she could beg and wail and thrash. The tension between those two sides of her made my heart flutter and made my pussy even more wet.

I whined, biting so deep into my forearm that I nearly drew blood.

"Hear that?" a man's voice said in the distance.

"Bird, I think," another voice replied.

"No...something else."

"The only thing I'm hearing is music," said a third voice. "And we're missing the show. Come on."

Xelari did not miss a beat, continuing to slowly use my ass while those mercenaries talked.

Eventually the sound of their voices and footfalls faded, and I moved my mouth from my forearm to whisper out her name.

"Quickly," she replied.

I nodded, bit down on my arm again, and came for her. My eyes bulged and my neck strained with the effort of holding back a scream. A muffled, ragged moan vibrated against my hand. My fingers continued to work against my clit, but the strain of the angle and the effort caused my hand to flop down onto the moss.

One thrust. Two. Three. Four.

Finally Xelari let out a long, trembling hiss as the enchanted sensations of the toy sent her over the edge: a smaller, gentler climax than her usual ones, but the weakness in that hiss told me it had been a good one.

She raked her fingers down along my spine as she pulled the toy free, the pain helping to distract me from the agony of being so empty.

Without another word, she rose, detached the toy, and pulled her leggings back up. Xelari didn't even offer to help me rise or to clean up, and simply strolled on back towards the long line of waiting travelers and merchants.

I laid there: twitching, helpless, and used, with a delirious grin on my face as I watched her leave.

***

A quarter hour after I'd limped back to the convoy, the line got moving again. Dazyar returned, grinning and showing off the small pile of silver he'd made from the mercenaries. An hour later we made it to the toll gate, where we paid our fees and submitted to a cursory inspection for contraband: the guards were looking for alchemical products from across the sea, and wine from Mrenhold. I assumed it was a result some sort of trade dispute or one of the Lord-Protector's new laws, and after Xelari paid an additional fee for the licensure of her specialized runestone, we rode into the teeming city.

It took nearly an hour to make it through the chaotic labyrinth of a marketplace that occupied the roadways just beyond the gate. We passed by stalls selling goods from across the world: kraken-ink tea, dragonflesh boots, wyvern-feather cloaks, and weapons of every imaginable make and style.

"I missed this place," I said, grinning at a stall which sold jewelry purportedly made from the frozen heart of an ice dragon. "The mess. The lies. The chaos."

"I didn't miss the markets filled with charlatans," Dazyar said. "But I did miss the bathhouses, the brothels, the teahouses, and the taverns."

"Speaking of taverns," Xelari said. "We should find one. Preferably a quiet, discreet option. A place where we can rest, rent out several rooms, set up a base of sorts. And I'll need to find an alchemist, too. I'll require a few ingredients to aid with the changing of my appearance."

She wasn't the only dusk elf in the city, and most of the ones we'd seen had the same silvery hair, but none with the same bright green eyes. As such, she'd stick out to any of Patrigan or Heroth's agents who were still on the lookout for her. It had been dangerous enough entering the city with only a raised hood to obscure most of her features.

"Sergayl's Songhouse, down near the Autumn Gate," Dazysar said. "My old friend Sergayl runs the place at a loss, just to keep it open to give amateur bards a place to practice and perform. And since the bards are amateurs, they don't get much of a crowd, unless there's a true rising star among them. Most nights it's relatively quiet and calm, with few clients to take up the rooms. And he owes me a few favors, so I'm sure we could get an entire floor to ourselves at a decent price."

"Take Xelari there, then. You two should hunker down for now, and I'll take care of the alchemical supplies."

Xelari gave me a list of what she needed: hagsweed, kraken ink, dried newt's blood, and some black dye. Having expected such a list of bizarre components for whatever procedures she'd undertake to disguise herself, I memorized the ingredients and made my way to the dockside markets, seeking out the alchemists I'd often utilized for poisons or oils for use in assassination contracts.

An hour later I arrived at Sergayl's Songhouse, the requested items in hand. Sergayl was an elderly, portly man with a wild beard and a smile that could have lit up the whole damned city. When I strode in, he already had a cup of wine poured for me, and I sat and chatted with him for a time at the empty bar, trading gossip about the city, and he regaled me with a rather embarrassing story about Dazyar fainting on-stage during a performance.

Delighted with all the ways I could tease my bard companion about that debacle, I paid for another drink, downed it in a few minutes, and then headed upstairs to the floor we'd rented out.

As I neared the door of the room at the far end of the hallway, I heard a thrumming moan, and rolled my eyes.

"Voids below," I grumbled.

I'd barely been away from them for an hour, and Xelari was already working her wiles on the hapless bard. Apparently fucking me in the ass a hundred feet from the road hadn't been enough to sate the dusk elf's lusts for the day.

I barged in regardless, to see Xelari upon her knees in front of the bard, whose leggings were pooled around his feet. His braids were a wild mess, half-obscuring his face as he moaned. Her head bobbed rapidly, her own soft muffled moans entwining with his.

"Shit," Dazyar sputtered upon seeing me enter.

I laughed and closed the door behind me. I felt not a spark of jealousy at the sight of her pleasuring someone else without me; I had no true claim over her, and I know that her dalliances with others wouldn't lessen her desire for me. In fact, the thought of her finding bliss with others gave me a little thrill, especially when I pondered the prospect of her fantasizing about me while she was with someone else. On top of all that, we'd both talked about fucking the bard, so the sight before me was no insult or surprise.

"Finish it up, Xel. We've work to do."

"Sorry, Esharyn. She was really quite insistent."

"No need to apologize. I know first-hand just how insistent and demanding she can be."

I set out the alchemical ingredients I'd gathered, and the bard let out his loudest moan yet as Xelari took him all the way to the hilt, her mouth embracing him fully without so much as a gurgle or a gasp.

"Let me guess," I continued. "She only got started a few minutes ago? Probably because she heard me arrive downstairs and chat with Sergayl?"

"How'd you know?" he said, gasping a bit, his dark hands entwining with her silvery curls.

"Because I know her. She's wicked tease."

The dusk elf pulled up a little, her lips locking around the tip of his cock while her hand worked rapidly against the lower part of his shaft.

The bard let out a beautiful little whimper, and I couldn't help but grin at the sight of the delight on Xelari's face as Dazyar tumbled over the edge. She took him deeper as he came, ensuring that she collected every single drop. His hips thrust gently against her mouth as she enveloped him, and her eyes stared up for the entire time, drinking in his reactions.

Finally she released him, sighed, and licked her lips.

As if she hadn't just sucked a man's cock mere feet away from me, she offered a grateful smile at the sight of the ingredients, and rose to her feet.

The panting bard flopped back onto the bed, then collected his leggings.

"So what did you need all that for?" Dazyar asked. "A simple hair dye would be enough, don't you think?"

"My eye color is rare among dusk elves, so Patrigan's other agents may take note of me. The kraken ink and newt's blood will be ignited and turned into a powder, which will be applied bit by bit to my eyes, turning them a dull red. Another rare color among dusk elves, but not quite as rare as green. The dye will allow me to put dark streaks in my hair, and the hagsweed will help with the healing and the molding."

"Healing what?" I asked.

"My nose." She tapped her face. "One of the easiest ways to throw off recognition is to reshape the nose. A quick break, and then I'll adjust the cartilage so it heals quickly. It won't be a total disguise to anyone that knows me well, but it should hopefully throw off anyone who is working off of a detailed description."

I myself was familiar with a similar procedure, though the White Talons used different alchemical methods.

"While I prepare the ingredients, we should discuss our next move," she said, laying out what I'd gathered and doling out drops of the materials into little clay cups.

"Patrigan is the key and the weak link," I said. "He should also be less protected than Heroth, so it should be easier to get to him. Dazyar and I can ask around, find out where his estate or manor is. The shadow-rune and years of experience of infiltration should make slipping inside an easy matter for me. Then I can collect more evidence, see if he has anything tying him directly to Reynard, and see if the orders came from Heroth or not."

"What do we even know about him?" Xelari asked. "I know little of Arkostead, and even less of its ruling elite."

"He's a Kossil, which means he's old blood," said Dazyar. "From back before the Commonwealth, when the cities were ruled by kings and queens. The Kossils weren't royalty themselves, just closely tied to the old rulers. They were among the first to switch sides and aid the lesser nobility when they moved against the throne. Since then, the Kossils have often served as commanders, admirals, stewards, or advisors to the council and the Lord-Protector. A few have even held the high office itself."

"You seem to know a lot," I said. "Do you know the man personally?"

"No, but I've performed at half a dozen weddings where Kossils or their offshoots were either in attendance or getting married. And there are three or four songs that mention the Kossils one way or another. Sometimes as treacherous cravens, others as brave defenders of the people. Slivers of truth survive in the music."

"Little clue as to a motive, though," Xelari murmured.

"A little snooping around his estate will hopefully shed some light," I said, before nodding to the bard. "Come on. Let's hit the busier taverns, ask around, ply some people with drink and song, see what we can learn."

For most of the rest of the day, Dazyar and I wandered from tavern to tavern. We started at some of the busier dockside spots, just to get the lay of the city. The sailors and captains were particularly angry about delays in the arrival of goods to the markets to be shipped to other ports, likely a result of the cryptwolf attacks. Shipments were already starting to pick up, but the brief delay had been enough to get them grumbling.

I wondered if it had been Patrigan's plan to choke off some of the trade to the city. Clearly we'd foiled that particular ploy, at least for the moment, but none of the gossip gave any reason as to why someone would want to hamper trade. Was that part of a grander plan to throw the city into chaos?

At one tavern, we encountered a few off-duty members of the city watch, for whom we bought a round of drinks to thank them for their hard work. One round turned to two, and two to three, and before long the watch members were drunkenly grumbling and moaning about their duties and most notably, Patrigan Kossil himself.

"Got pulled off from an investigation into river pirates because of him," growled a burly, gray-haired woman. "For a week straight, had to stay up all night on sentry duty at his estate. Apparently there was some sort of burglary there, and that was more important than hunting pirates."

I raised an eyebrow at that. Could someone have stolen the documents from his home, as part of an elaborate deception, to make it look like Patrigan was behind Reynard's attacks on the roads?

"Brazen, for a thief to go after the Lord-Protector's steward," Dazyar said. "When was that?"

"Two weeks back. Thankfully I got reassigned after a bit because the old prick ended up hiring some mercenaries to take over."

Two weeks. Not long after I'd set out from Arkostead, and well before the cryptwolf attacks had begun on the road. It still wasn't clear if there was a connection between the assassination contract and the attacks, though. Every new bit of information just confused the issue further.