NOTE: Dear readers. This is LustyHearts.
I'm fairly new in this writing gig and am nothing but a novice. I've always admired erotic literature and specially literotica. But there is a great chasm betwixt reading it and trying to write it. This is what came out of that effort. There will be mistakes and I take full responsibility for that but please consider the fact that English is not my native language. Neither do I have an editor.
So if you find them please point them out so that I can improve my writing.
And any willing and able editor PLEASE contact me.
-LH
*
"Ready your swords and shields, Men! Our enemy wants to taste them!" Julia shouted.
The whole deck full of metal armoured soldiers jostled and roared.
She drew out her short-sword with a golden hilt and man engravings, a gift from higher consul Hictor Versilieus II after her simultaneous success against the rebellions in Capua and Anxia and her victory against Venetian invasion.
And now she was under the command to none other then the great General Lucius Julius Libo, commander of the legendary army- Ligio II Appolinaries, who earlier led the same to the distruction of their sworn enemy nation Etrusian League.
Rome was currently at war with Carthage. Julia was leading a fleet of five Leve privateer ships along with a Ligionary ship that she was on right now.
She shouted some more inspiring words, but deep down she was herself very nervous. This was her first naval battle as a newly appointed Admiral. She was honed for land battles and water makes her feel out of place. But desperate times calls for desperate measures.
General Lucius was taking heavy casualties fighting for the city of Lilybaeum to the north of the enemy capital. Despite the support of Syracuse from the east of Magna-Garcia, the siege is uptight and the upkeep costs are going out of bounds. The senate is fearing of a shameful retreat if the city is not taken within months.
That's where she came into focus. Since her own fame was quite widespread, she was given four months training before being almost literally kicked out of the port of Karalis.
So here she was standing off against her first naval foe, the treacherous Admiral Aedus Niscar, leading the Flight of Tyros, a fleet of three warships. Even if she knew that the enemy doesn't stand a chance against a fleet of six Roman warships, this did little to appease her tension. Niscar was devious but not a fool. He had seen his fair share of days in the seas and was no novice in the naval Warcraft unlike her. And he clearly rejected the final chance of surrender like if it was the joke of the year.
Her instincts were smelling something foreboding around them. The thick winter air gave as far as a few miles of vision. To set an ambush was a child's play here.
But her quartermaster assured her there are no ships whatsoever around five nautical miles except the facing parties.
Her hand still gripping the sword's hilt firmly, she tried to feel the same rush of blood, the same thumping of her heart that she experienced every other time while marching into a battle. But the slow and steady bounce of the ship made it hard. Even after three weeks in water the unsteady plane under her feet still felt odd.
So she tried to clear her mind as good as she can which was still much compared to a common man thanks to her training and natural instincts. She held the sword above her head.
"They want blood be spilled. They wouldn't give passage. So that's what we will give them!" She looked at the two rows of archers.
"ARCHERS! Target flag ship! On my word..."
The archer captain raised his bow, a signal for the archers in the other ships for preparation to fire.
"FIRE!"
And a volley of bronze tipped arrows cut through the mist towards their targets. So they heard screams of orders and pain. Julia did not smile. She took no pleasure in pain to others, even to her enemies.
"Take cover! Archers reload! Ballistae be ready! We'll be going broadside."
Soon arrows rained down on them. But the Histatii squadrons along with the archers and skirmishers hid themselves behind thick metal plated shields. The arrows burrowed deep in the shields mostly unharmed.
On her command the fleet moved forward, taking a few degree turn east. Soon the enemy ships were visible through the filtered sunlight. A roar resounded from both the sides.
Ballista's open fired from both sides. More than three ships on total were damaged. Julia's ship itself took some bolts in the hull, raging fire instantly. But the Romans were ready for it. In no time the fire was under control.
But the Carthagians weren't so lucky. One ship was down with few survivors. Both sides took a break.
This tipped Julia. Something was off. The enemy Admiral was nowhere to be seen.
"Garthuse. Isn't that Niscar's fleet?" She asked her quartermaster.
"Yes, sera. Certainly. They were reported by our scout boats days ago." The stocky man with trimmed beard answered.
"Hum..." She again checked, "Then why is he absent? What could it be? Is he hiding below deck? If so, then why?"
As she looked through the eye-piece of the spyglass, she saw unrest among the enemy soldiers. Wounded were taken care of by the medicines, arrows and fire-bolts were restocked. Captains shouting orders among the rows. The sails being mended in places.
But no Admiral. Strange.
Julia sighed. This is not so hard, she just need to calm down. Maybe Niscar is planning below-deck. Plotting against them.
She was just going to go below deck when an unnaturally strong wind almost knocked her down. She gripped the iron railing, trying to steady herself.
But Garthuse wasn't so lucky. The stocky man with a tonne of armour fell down the poop deck on the hard wooden surface below. The soldiers around him helped him to his feet.
They all stared at the blinding sphere of white light not bigger than a Spartan shield with strings of violet and crimson revolving around it.
Julia gasped when a string of red energy lunged at her. She tried to save herself by dodging to the right where crates were set full of round shots and rather failed to do that as the string wrapped around her ankle in mid-air and pulled a screaming Julia towards its origin. All the hundreds of soldiers saw their rookie admiral being pulled by a leash into the air. And in the next few moments the sphere was non-existent. The soldiers behaves as if it never happened. Like Julia Ceasar Casserini never happened.
**
"VANDAL! VANDAL! COME HERE! VANDAL!" High Priestess Marline Sardines Hirondale shrieked. Vandal, being the ever eager follower rushed into her room, his curved blade in his hand.
"Mistress..."
She rushed and gripped his both arms tightly, her beautiful face sweaty and exited.
"Vandal, IT HAPPENED!"
Vandal flinched a little from the closeness.
"Wha... What happened?"
"The transition! I just felt the energy rush. Believe me it was huge!" Her eyes wide in astonishment, strands sleek maroon hair clinging to her face. She was breathing so hard that Vandal feared a heart seizure.
After putting the sword aside, he gently set the trembling women down on the bedside.
"Calm down." He assured his young Mistress. Vandal was her bound servant and guardian from when they both were ten summers of age and also the first time his Mistress had a vision and recognised as the next High Priestess of Ginoma.
Now almost fifteen summers later, the heavily built man held his Mistress and secret love interest by her arms to keep her steady.
'The energy must be tremendous to cause such an impact on her." He thought.
When she was not trembling any more he quipped her about it.
"You won't believe it Van. It was... it was huge. The gate opened for a few moments. A GATE, VAN! Can you believe it."
Deep inside Vandal was astonished. If what she says is true then it was really a miracle. And he blindly believe on her powers, so close was she to the Ginoma, the source of life.
He just stared at her before reluctantly drawing his arms back. Only one thing stopped him from taking Marline into his arms and hold her, maybe stroke her cotton robe clad back.
Only one thing.
He was her servant, her caretaker, her vengeful guardian. But not her lover. She was meant for someone else. Someone who will give her extreme happiness and then release him from his duties. This is how it has been done from thousands of years. After her bonding, he will be allowed to choose someone for him as his own mate. But his heart knew better. He doubted it will go to anyone else.
Ever.
Marline noticed his stoic expression. Coming down from the high she suddenly felt drained of all the energy when she saw him gazing past her, his azure eyes trying to bind some kind of pain she didn't understand. But she knew she wanted to ease it out of her. He might be her servant to others, but to her he was much more than that. He was her protector as well as her best friend. Due to her status, she was restricted to leave holy grounds. He was one of the handful of people allowed to be with her until she finds her life mate.
That thought brought her mind a few moments back. She could almost feel his strong grip on her arms. During the years, he have trained over even hard just to maintain his duty as her guard. She many times sneak out at night to the training compound so that to catch a peek of his hard and chiselled body in its full glory as he hacks away on hay dummies with his broad sword. She finds it immensely pleasurable just to look all those muscles moving under his skin, his grunts after ever stroke and his sweat dripping down his unbounded shoulder length brown hair down the packed hills and valleys of his back. Almost a wicked kind of pleasure.
Then he looked down and she moved her gaze elsewhere.
"I'll try and find the source point." He said getting up, "You must rest now."
