Ians Quest Pt 08

"Six months good work. Well done, Ian. Now it's time to get everything rolling, but that will be a challenge as well. Only a kingdom could hope to attack an empire, so it is time for you to become a king."

Eliezer paced as he talked to his grandson at the Starvision Sailing Company in Cashawm. His hair was pure white now, and Ian wondered what may have aged him so quickly. "What have you been thorough in the past 6 months? You seem more frail, older..."

"Do not worry, Ian. I will not die until after the Last Battle. It's a good thing you brought that crystal ball, I have a few things to show you." The crystal grew cloudy, swirling with mist, before dispersing to reveal the head of a young man. "This is your son, Ioannis. He was born to Lilianthe of Modus seven years ago, but I took him back in time so he would come to maturity now. I have trained him in all the arts you learned in your first eighteen years. You will need an heir as you claim a kingdom, and he is ready."

"Did you have to go back to make up for the years you skipped ahead for me?"

The old man looked confused for a moment and nodded. "Yes, there is a price for such manipulations in time. I will teach you that art after our campaign, the knowledge must not be lost. He will join us later: he knows about you and that you are his father; at this time you will get to know one another and build the bond of trust."

"Good. I need to get in contact with Jurmilla, send messages across the ocean."

"Surely. They come to port the day after tomorrow, and by then we will have the documents ready. You will have a surprise there as well: she gives birth to your child in six weeks, another son."

Ian shook his head. "I'm not sure I'm ready for this."

"No one is ready for parenthood at any age. Be patient with yourself. Jurmilla and her child will sail the seas for now, security against our success, for you may still go astray as your father did."

"I also have the dark Elf sisters, one a demon magician and the other a ironsmith, who will follow me anywhere. As well as a demon lord who will do my bidding."

"That's more than I expected. Did you get the proper submissions?"

"Yes, Grandfather. Oaths on the Tome and a submission."

Eliezer paced a little. "That is more than I expected, I don't like this, however it's good you have the help. I take it the dark Elves will travel with you?"

"Yes, at least until we find a place for them. We will need a master ironsmith to equip an army, right?"

"Right. They must stay hidden, masquerade as friendly elves if need be. You can arrange that. If your subjects suspect you're in league with them, they will not obey you. You will need to start your kingdom with the Goat Men, and call resisters to your banner from a palace."

"I can do that."

"You must be crowned and anointed. Your enemy will attack before you're ready to take the battle to him, so you must be careful where you choose your capital."

"I know where I want to go. Our home will be good enough: easily defended, easily provisioned, and full of topography where ambushes and skirmishes will bleed an invader."

"Good. It's time you went home. But first, did you learn the secret of the Pearl of Oncona?"

"Yes, it's a prison. A demon is within, I know his name."

"Once again, I don't like this, but this is why I sent you to train in demon magic. Be aware in two months we need to leave. Our presence here is suspected, and our adversary will send an army in three if he suspects we're here. The people of Cashawm don't deserve this."

"No they don't. All right, I'll get things rolling."

****

Ian met the Queen of Tritius in his private conference room next to his bedchamber. The snows on the mountains were gleaming in the early winter sunlight through the windows. She entered with only her daughter in attendance, and they wore blue dresses rather than their formal court apparel; he met them with his son Ioannis in ordinary peasant clothes. They were tall women, blonde and strong, carrying themselves as soldiers: the Queen was in her mid 40s while her daughter must have just turned 20. They bowed on entering, which the men returned, and Ian beckoned them to be seated around his small table, temporarily clear of maps and paperwork. "Queen Aphastia, it is my pleasure to talk with you without the encumbrance of protocol or retainers. I hope we can end our conflict, and find a lasting peace here."

"In return, Lord Melekthon, I thank you for your kind treatment of us since the battle of Klangori. I expected a dank dungeon for myself and my daughter, and the mines for my soldiers. I will admit my rashness in pursuing you into the mountains, and am fortunate that you chose not to destroy my army the three times it was at your mercy."

"My hope was always to negotiate with you, which would have been difficult if you were dead. If I imprisoned you, you would have signed anything I put before you to be free, but that peace would have only lasted until your strength was rebuilt. I desire true peace with you, and alliance if that would be possible."

The Queen's eyebrows went up. Her daughter looked at Ian strangely, and Ioannis stood calmly, revealing nothing. "It must be true, the rumors. You're organizing something big." Ian shrugged his shoulders. "Are you certain we're not being overheard? There are many ways of eavesdropping by spirits and demons."

"The Prince will witness we have made this place safe. I have some magic for that purpose, and there are no passages, open or hidden, that run near here. There are no mirrors or other glasses for demons to peek through, and if you wish refreshment, we have clay goblets, which cannot be magicked. We are safe here, your Majesty."

The Queen tapped the table with her index finger. "All right, we'll talk plainly. I thought you were a pretender, and wanted to squish you just for the fun of it. My army had too much leisure, and we've subdued all our other neighbors. Your rule here in Haran has been exceptional, my spies could find no one to betray you. The Goatmen I left alone because of their allegiance to the Emperor, since he hasn't seen fit to swallow us yet. I couldn't believe the discipline or armament of your troops, how fast you built an elite fighting force. Five years! You took the kingdom of the Goatmen and built it into a human realm in five years! You refused to come down into the plain where my calvary could destroy you, your tactics kept them at bay when they had room to maneuver. You feigned weakness so we'd chase you into the mountains, and you weakened us until we were surrounded at Klangori. I'm still amazed you didn't crush us."

"Lord Melekthon is different," Ioannis replied. "We have another purpose."

"Very well, peace it will be," the Queen continued. "I've learned my lesson. We shall withdraw and never trouble you again. An alliance is a different story. Who will we be allied against?"

"There can be only one answer, you know the only power that would need both of us to overcome."

"Damn, aren't you ambitious?" the Queen responded, her jaw dropping. Her daughter's eyes went wide and she was unsteady on her feet for a moment. "You've got other allies, right?" Ian nodded gravely. "Lord Melekthon, I'll need to know more about that in detail, but not right now. How do you propose we make this alliance?"

"Through marriage, my heir to your heir." The young man stood calmly, not reacting, while the young woman looked him up and down with interest.

"Once again, you ask something impossible, something that hasn't happened for thousands of years. I am a ruling Queen without a consort, from a long line going back from mother to daughter beyond memory. There are legends from the past, of a great magician who started our line, but none of my ancestors has married for an alliance."

"To accomplish our destiny, we must break tradition. When dark tradition means tyranny and enslavement, it is only just to break it."

"Agreed, Lord Melekthon, agreed. I'd like to see the Deathless one fall as well, and would contribute to that if I could. Here are the terms: your son must prove himself to my daughter in conflict."

"Agreed, but no weapons. Death must not be possible."

"Agreed, your armament is far superior to ours anyway. It must be in the open, so our people can witness it."

"Agreed. We have a place for this. The training field outside the walls will serve, and there are stands for an audience."

"Good. They will compete naked."

"Chilly, but all right. The exercise will keep him warm, right my son?"

Ioannis didn't blink. "Yes, father. Who will be her champion?"

The women laughed, the older one slapping the table with mirth. "I will be my own champion," the Princess said, "you must overcome me. Without your advantages, you must make me submit to you before you submit to me."

"Very well," Ian replied, laughing. "You two will go and prepare, the contest starts at noon today. Order the preparations and summon all interested, Prince Manchon."

"Yes, my father." The Prince led the Princess out of the room and the door closed behind them.

Queen Aphastia looked Ian up and down. "It seems there's a few things about succession that are unusual in this kingdom. Usually legitimacy makes a difference in male lines, but I see you're operating differently. I'm surprised you didn't suggest marrying me or my daughter yourself."

"The Queens of Tritius have never taken consorts, either. I don't want to rule your country, until the world changes. I'm thinking ahead to a larger world, and crowns yet to be cast. If my son cannot overcome your daughter, we will be allies without the marriage."

"Agreed, we will work something out."

"When we go to the Last War, I will arm your troops, and we will practice tactics together."

"Excellent. There are wild horsemen on my opposite border that might be good to recruit. How did you subdue the Goatmen so easily?"

"It's a long story, let's say I went to the top." He walked to the sideboard and offered her a drink; when she nodded, he poured her some ale from a pitcher. "I'm confident in my son."

"As I am in my child. Let me make a wager between ourselves: when she wins, I will exact a forfeit from you, and if you son gets lucky, you could do the same with me."

Ian smiled. "And the forfeit."

"I get to tie you up and whip you, from your buttocks to your shoulders until you bleed..."

"If you wish."

"...in front of all your people." She smiled, mirth dancing in her eyes.

"All right. When my son wins, you must get on your knees and suck my cock until I bid you stop, in front of all our people."

They both laughed and took a drink from their tankards. She extended her hand and he took it, both of them smiling at each other. Standing up, she bowed and left the room, giggling quietly to herself.

Ian went into his bedchamber and summoned Kadosh. Sitting on his bed, he concentrated and his grandfather appeared. "Yes, Ian. What would you like to ask?"

"You seem to be good at time travel. Did you take a journey into the distant past you haven't told me about?"

"No, by my father did. He is the one who wooed the ancestress of the Tritians, and began their line. You have a few things in common with our distant relatives, especially a sense of honor, so this should work. I have confidence in Ioannis, he is the second greatest warrior in the world."

"As long as Aphastia's daughter Salome isn't the greatest. The fleet from the Far Continent is gathering, and will sail in the spring. They will have land based canone, which our adversary does not have. My agents will bring the horsemen from the far west, and we will be ready to move by midsummer."

"Excellent. The Emperor is searching for you, but his ambassador is hopelessly lost trying to find your city. He has not mustered his troops yet. His Consort is also busy, gathering news from the Far Continent as well, but cannot fathom how all of them have made an alliance together, although she suspects it's against them for some reason. She also casts more spells to maintain her husband's youth and vigor, but he is growing immune to them. He now appears in his mid 60s and is visibly aging. His commanders still serve him, but their confidence is waning."

"Then we will see at most two more winters until the world is made new."

"Perhaps more, grandson. It's good you're planning beyond: Ioannis and Salome will usher a new springtime together. The way you're building this alliance is right, if only your father had that wisdom. When we mobilize our forces, you must consult below for the latest intelligence on them, which lords may not stand to the end." The old man coughed several times; racking coughs that doubled him over for three full minutes. "I must rest, Ian."

"How are you feeling, Grandfather?"

"I'm still living, and where there's life, there's hope. Someday soon I will see my last sunrise, but I will not depart before then. Fare well."

"Fare well."

Scouts rode in with word an embassy from the Emperor would arrive in three days. Very well, things must happen fast, he thought to himself. A bell signaled an hour before midday, and he ate a snack before going to the training grounds for the duel.

There was a huge grandstand overlooking the grounds, and a circular fence of wood four feet high. Two thrones were set inside the circle: the rulers would referee the match themselves. Ioannis came clad in a gold cloak reaching his feet, and an honor guard of Goatmen accompanied them to the enclosure. The Tritius court arrived ten minutes later, Salome dressed in a matching gold cloak and her mother wearing a fairly simple yellow dress, accompanied by their guard. Trumpets played a fanfare as the midday bell rang in the citadel, and a large crowd from of soldiers from both armies sat in the stands.

When the two stood before them, another fanfare played, and both contenders bowed to their monarchs. Ian arose, and addressed the crowd: "My sister Queen Aphastia, you came here a prisoner and now I announce you remain with us in peace, our new found friend. We welcome your daughter Salome, your honor guard, and all your subjects here as our guests from henceforth. May peace always embrace our realms!"

The Queen arose, and addressed the crowd. "My brother Lord Melekthon, we embrace your mercy and your welcome. We are grateful to your son, Prince Manchon, your generals and your forces for their restraint and hospitality since the end of our conflict. We declare our war is ended, and look forward to the blessings of peace and kinship between our lands."

Ian bowed to the Queen, which she returned. "In order to bind our peoples more closely, we propose this test. Prince Manchon and Princess Salome shall contend in this circle, and if the Prince is able to gain the Princess' submission, then they shall wed; if the Princess gains the Prince's submission, we shall pay a sum for our neighbor's cooperation and trade in years to come. Let all present witness this contest in a spirit of friendly competition and accept the result with grace and honor. Is this agreeable to all present?"

A loud cheer rang from both sides through the grandstands, as soldiers of either side freely mixed with each other. The honor guards turned, saluted each other, ceremonially sheathed their swords and withdrew together. The Prince and Princess came forward to bow before their monarchs and doffed their cloaks, standing naked in the sunlight, their breath steaming in the air.

"The Lord Melekthon shall signal the beginning and I shall signal the ending," the Queen announced. "Are you both ready?"

"Yes."

"Yes."

"Then begin."

Ioannis and Salome circled each other warily, scrutinizing each other carefully. His dark hair contrasted with her golden hair, but they were virtually identically built, other than their obvious gender difference. The Queen gasped when she saw the Prince's manhood and looked at his father questioningly, receiving a wink in reply. Ian nodded when he saw Salome naked: strong without being overly muscled, agile, with proportionate breasts and small nipples. Physically they would be a good match not only on the field that day, but in life afterward.

They came closer, still circling and tried to catch each other's arm. She succeeded first and spun him around, trying for a better hold, but he danced away. He snagged a leg and used it to push her down, but she went through the roll and threw him clear. They circled again, looking for weakness.

It was twenty minutes before they stopped dancing and grappled in earnest. As they wrestled, they did not throw punches or try to harm each other's sensitive areas; there were no groin punches, hair pulling or other shameful tricks. It was a trial of strength and agility unknown since the ancient games contended in a peace long past.

In spite of the cold, their bodies became smeared with dirt and sweat, their hair hanging down in ropes, and their faces contorted in effort. They grunted in their efforts, their skin slapping as they made contact, the gusts of their breathing sending huge billows into the frigid air. The contest was close for an hour before he was able to get behind her and bear her down to the ground. Winding his leg around hers and immobilizing one arm with a grip around her shoulder. Her face was down in the dirt, and she stopped struggling. Her mother stood up and said: "The victory is yours, Prince Manchon. You may take her."

Instead of letting her up, he released her leg, maintaining his grip on her arm, and mounted her from behind. She panted as he worked his cock into her cunt, her face a mixture of joy and pain, until he was fully inserted. He let go of her arm, but she made no effort to disengage or escape, letting him take her virginity before her mother, his father, and all those gathered there. It was five minutes before he finished, both of them crying out in pleasure as they found their heaven.

Ian sat back in his throne during all this, holding his head in his hand. The Queen watched them eagerly, licking her lips from time to time, squeezing her legs together, and rubbing her palms. When they were done and stood up again, they bowed to their monarchs and to each other; attendants ran with their cloaks. They stood before the monarchs at attention, as if nothing happened. Ian shook his head: "I don't think that's what she meant, son."

Ioannis smiled in response, and Salome looked at him coyly. Aphastia twisted a curl of her hair, and muttered: "No, I didn't, but that's all right. Our people definitely know now our future is together."

The monarchs stood up and Aphastia turned to kneel, but Ian stopped her. "I've changed my mind, and I think you'll like this better. Bend over."

With a flick of his wrist, he took her dress off, leaving her standing naked in front of her army and his, and had her grasp the arms of her chair as she bent over. Reaching between her legs, he found her crotch very wet, and he followed his son's example in impaling the monarch. As he thrust himself deep inside her, he heard a chanting coming from the crowd, rhythmic, energetic, as if all of them were part of this symbolic action. He looked around and saw all of them were standing, clapping in rhythm with his thrusts and stamping their feet to shake the stands. Ian hoped the bleachers wouldn't collapse as he went faster, but he dared not stop to order them to vacate or cease; it was a moment in history he knew he shouldn't interrupt.

Aphastia climaxed twice before he did. She leaned back against him as he held himself in, delivering his seed deep inside her, her body giving off vast quantities of steam in the chilly air. He pulled out and held his hands up, and the cheers echoed off the mountains.

"The wedding is at sundown. Prepare to celebrate."

He went to his chamber to rest afterward, bathing and drinking a huge draft of wine mixed with water. Aphastia awakened him from his nap, dressed in her finery. "I'd say I would like to change my mind about marriage, but I doubt it would work out politically. Salome is happy with Manchon, and looking forward to spending her life at his side. However, I think we probably need to complete our briefing and decide what our common course is. At least, before we get too distracted by...events."