The village folk were gathering around the man who had arrived earlier that day with a horse and a prairie schooner. Now that the evening had come the top of the wagon had been lifted and it created a construction of some sort. A background scenery for the display that was about to begin.
Shining gold-shaded mirrors were multiplying light from tens of gigantic candles that illuminated the entire setup. The man himself was waiting patiently in front of his theatre for the last of the audience to find their places. The summer evening was warm but dark.
Everyone was excited but the smallest children were even scared of the crimson looks of the man. On top of his head was a head ornament like which they had never seen before. It was made out of wolf's skin and the ears of the skinned beast could now be seen on the traveller's head. The headpiece combined with his grey beard and bushy eyebrows gave him the wolfish appearance he had aimed for.
Then the story began. With a loud but ominous voice, the visitor told them a great tale of two armies facing each other. While the story was told, skillfully crafted miniature figures and their shadows were dancing against the schooner's uplifted white canvas. The most perilous parts were emphasized by sparkles of fire and small banging sounds that seemed to come out of nowhere as the storyteller waved his hands.
The spectators applauded whenever some grand event took place on the stage. Women gasped and children screamed out loud to some of the special effects. An angry murmur from the mob rose when at the end the traitorous general of the opposing force ran like a coward and was able to escape behind the great river Dechelon.
When the show was over the visitor revealed his true purpose. There was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for the men of the village. They could join the forces of the Bara-Ur tribe and its great chieftain Raz-ul, the victorious commander of the battle at the Takagiwa plains. Soon enough there was a long queue of men, young and old, asking for further instructions from the storyteller.
In the midst of the audience, there was a grey-hooded figure and two young boys who had also followed the show with great interest. Seth had been forced to use his hands to shut the mouths of his two young companions as they had been listening in rage to how their father Damoran had been humiliated in the story. Even Seth himself was a little taken aback learning that the government's army had been defeated.
And what happened after? At least the story told that Damoran escaped so Seth figured his main mission prevailed. He should get boys back to their father - but where? And if recruiters like this were roaming the land then maybe Bara-Ur troops would not be far off. It could be dangerous to start asking questions about where to find Damoran.
Pondering on it all Seth spied at the man with the wolf hat. He was vividly complimenting all the men joining Bara-Ur's cause and telling them how endless riches would wait for them in the end.
Finally, the recruiter called it a night and told the people to get some sleep. In the morning he would continue his journey to the next village and the recruitees could march on to find the Bara-Ur troops and further on to war!
As the man was dismantling his gear and shutting down his candles Seth approached him. At first, he welcomed Seth warmly, and looking at his tall but thin frame told him that the army would accept the more slender type of men as well. But when Seth insisted on knowing more and more about where the government's army continued from the Dechelon river the wolfman became more suspicious by every passing minute.
Finally, he refused to give any more info. He admitted that he had a vague idea of where to find the troops but was not allowed to discuss them with a stranger and two young pups. This left Seth a little choice and in a whisper, he made a threat that it would be unhealthy for the storyteller not to tell him everything he knew.
Rising to his full height the wolfman did offensive movements and barked,
"Do not threaten me, boy!"
His message was fortified with sparkles of fire crackling between them in the air as he was making theatrical gestures with his hands toward Seth. Being afraid that he would burn them all alive Marius and Girou jumped away in haste.
But Seth was not scared. His heavy oak staff seemed to come out of nowhere and calmly he stuck it into the ground between them. As the staff rooted itself, something slithered against the back of the wolfman. He was only figuring out what was happening when he was tightly bound against the wagon.
On the side of the wagon, the long-dead grey and old boards had started to grow sprouts and those were rapidly encircling the storyteller. Growing up fast they were soon several inches thick and the wolfman had no chance against them.
"Your childish magic tricks won't save you here, fool," said Seth sternly and continued, "Either you tell us everything you know or the village people will need an axe to cut your lifeless body off from the wagon in the morning."
Watching with awe, the boys realized it was Seth who was making the sprouts grow. And whatever the wolfman had used to make up the fire sparkles was not nearly enough to stop Seth and his oak staff. The storyteller, despite his charisma and dangerous appearance, was not a brave man. One of the growing branches started to encircle his throat and he spilled out everything he knew about the whereabouts of the two armies.
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Sataya nuzzled herself closer and closer to her man. Smelling his skin and kissing his shoulder. Enjoying his strong arm holding her tight onto his side. The smallish and dark cabin was not that private and she knew Damoran's sister and her family members were sleeping on the other end of it. Even so, she lusted for Damoran's touch. He was clearly in his own thoughts and it was easy for her to feel his burden and sorrow.
The defeat against Bara-Ur and the humiliation at the government meeting after it had not been the worst part. When they finally reached Damoran's home, they found out that his father was dead and his sons missing. At his father's grave, he had gone all silent and grim. Not telling her anything of his plans. Just a simple statement that she could come along but only if she was willing to ride for several days.
He had abandoned the last of his guards and told them to return to the city barracks. Then he rode into the woods. The trip to find this cottage had been exhausting to Sataya. She was more accustomed to lavishly furnished bedrooms and steamy bathhouses but on the way she had had to sleep on the ground with Damoran. She had endured it all to keep him company and regretted none of it.
Compared to the last two nights she had slept out in the wilderness the modest bed of the cabin was more than comfortable. Without asking an approval she reached for his manhood and gently started stroking it. Feeling its weight in her small hand.
This broke Damoran from his trance. With an exhale he turned more into her and kissed her tenderly. His hand cupped her buttocks and Sataya could feel fire in her core. The man had been a customer and the common rule was not to fall in love with one but she could not help it. There was nowhere else in the world she'd rather be than in the arms of Damoran. Wherever it would take her in the future.
She rose on top of him and in the silent darkness she made love to him. Grinding her hips into his. Feeling his hardness penetrating inside of her. As it became more and more pleasurable they locked their lips to muffle their cries while they came.
