"Come on... how do I work this stupid magic?" Tarquin mumbled to himself as he waved his branded hand in front of the bowl of water. Ne'shita had told him to summon her when he had specific questions about something, but it was the first time that he'd actually tried.
He was standing within the room of a cheap, yet well up-kept inn. He had no idea how many days he was going to stay in Carth, and though he had a little extra spending money, he didn't want to waste it on room and board.
The bowl of water he stood in front of was a simple face washing bowl, the kind that inns usually provided to patrons as a quick alternative to a full bath. Tarquin had been standing in front of it for less than five minutes, but already he was beginning to get impatient.
Finally, after the dozenth time of waving his branded hand over the water, it began to shimmer. A moment later, the surface of the water became almost concave, and a voice emanated from it.
"Well, well, if it isn't the savior of the world... how are you, my champion?" Ne'shita's voice rang out from the water, as sarcastic and sultry as ever.
Tarquin ignored her question, "I'm in Carth, and I'm looking for the second princess. There's a problem though: the so called president has nine daughters... nine, Ne'shita," the mercenary repeated with exasperation. "How am I supposed to know which one to fuck?"
"Tsk tsk, Tarquin," the goddess chuckled, "Why are you in such a rush? Why not bed all of them?"
Tarquin's face became blank, "I don't have that kind of time, and I certainly don't want to have to fight in another arena just to fuck some random woman."
"Oh yes, I heard about your little escapade. Very impressive; I must say, I picked the right man for the job. How was Crizet?"
Tarquin sighed, but smiled despite his mood, "She was something else, honestly. It's nice to know that there are women in the world like that."
"Yes indeed, but how hard they are to find," her voice rang out from the bowl with a bit of fake pity. "I'll answer your question with another question: why do you think it's princesses specifically that I'm asking you to lie with? Why not just some random prostitute whom you could pay to spread her legs?"
Tarquin blinked. He hadn't really thought about it, he'd just assumed that it needed to be someone important, "I don't know and I don't care to guess; tell me."
"You're really no fun. Fine, fine, let me tell you: I need you to fuck these specific women because they are apart of a very particular bloodline that traces back to old magic. Every time you spill your lovely seed inside of them, I get one step closer to solving this puzzle, and you get one step closer to what we agreed upon."
"Very well," Tarquin pawed his chin, "So, out of the nine, which is the magic blooded maiden?"
"I don't know, exactly."
Tarquin's eyebrow twitched, "Toying with me again?"
"No, not this time. Truly, I don't know who you're looking for or what her name is, but I know she's in Carth and she must be the daughter of Havro Neilson. She will be silver haired and her eyes will be stark blue; she's distantly related to Obran Wyuvish."
"Obran the sky smith?" Tarquin asked incredulously.
"Yes, who else? Regardless, you need to find her and lie with her, and all of the same rules apply as before. She has to want you, mercenary; you can't force yourself on her."
"Yes, I remember the terms," Tarquin grumbled. "She has to be completely taken by me and swooning like a young virgin maiden on a warm summer's night."
Ne'shita laughed, "Exactly. Now, if there's nothing else, I believe I've given you all the information I am capable of giving you. The rest should be a simple matter of asking around town."
Tarquin took a deep breath and was about to say goodbye to the goddess when he remembered something, "Wait, I do have one question."
"Hm, yes, what is it?"
"Crizet asked me if she was going to have my child... is that a possibility?"
Ne'shita chuckled, "Well of course it's a possibility. You are both healthy and virile people; it's only natural that the possibility is there. If you're asking me if I'm deliberately causing these women to become pregnant, then the answer is no."
Tarquin was less satisfied with her answer than he thought he would be, but he decided not to press it further, "Very well, I'll continue with my mission. Thanks."
"Yes, of course." Oh, and Tarquin..." the surface of the water rippled as her voice began to echo hollowly, "You don't have to finish inside of them, dear. You could make them swallow it... if they're willing."
The water became still then and Tarquin blinked several times as he heard the most distant sounds of laughter skipping across the inside of the bowl.
Tarquin spent the entire morning going about the supposed lesser part of town. He spoke with nearly every merchant he saw, and gathered as much information about Havro and his daughters as he could. It seemed that Havro was a strict father, some would even say, obsessive, and he expected each of his nine daughters to to compete for the presidency when he decided to retire. Tarquin heard that each of the women were masters at something or another, and it seemed to him that they were as much a slave to their positions as they were to their father.
By the early afternoon, Tarquin had determined where one of Havro's daughters usually loitered around, and he made his way there atop Axis.
A few people glanced at him as he passed, but most people looked away as quickly as they saw him. Men who rode raptors were less of a novelty in the center of the continent, and though they still weren't regarded highly by any means, they were paid less attention to.
The cobbled streets turned to grass and field as Tarquin rode outside the eastern gate and into the outlying country. It was a warm day in late spring, and many people could be seen here and there riding their horses and enjoying the weather.
The mercenary had been directed to a mattatti course close to the outskirts of town, and he spotted it easily once he had made his way out of the gate.
As he drew closer, he could see the course more clearly. It was the largest and most complex mattatti course he'd ever seen, and he could see a few jockeys moving across the course as they practiced for their inevitable matches.
It had been a long time since Tarquin had even seen such a course, and as he approached the gate he slowed Axis and watched one of the rider's as they began running to course.
Mattatti was an old field game that was half obstacle course and half test of skill. A jockey would ride atop a raptor while wielding a single edged sword and make their their way through the course. The object of the game was to run through the obstacles in the fastest time possible, while also trying to cut as many mats as possible. It was a complex game that could be won by either pure speed, pure skill, or any combination of the two, and it was one of the world's largest international sports. Many riders would opt to run the course slower so they could gather more points on the mats, others would cut few mats and sprint through the course, but very few indeed attempted to do both at the same time.
The rider Tarquin watched, however, seemed to be attempting both. He watched with interest as the jockey flew through the course expertly, jumping their raptor over a raised bar before slicing through a mat placed on the right side and ducking beneath another obstacle. As the rider neared him, he saw that it was a woman, and he grinned as he realized that he must have found the woman he was told would be there.
The woman continued to breeze through the course, jumping and ducking beneath obstacles while she slashed over and behind her shoulder. A few spectators, most dressed in riding gear, watched her as she completed the course, and a few people clapped for her as she slowed her mount to a stop.
"Hey buddy, you wanna go brush shoulders with some of the well bred?" Tarquin patted Axis on the side.
The raptor huffed, seemingly unimpressed as Tarquin steered him through the short gate leading to the beginning of the course.
"Excuse me... can I help you?" A tall, thin man looked up at Tarquin with open distaste as he rode up on Axis.
The mercenary looked down at the man who stood on the ground and smiled, "Yes, I hope so. I'm looking for a woman named Vana, someone told me she might be here."
The man sneered, "What business do you have with her? This course is privately owned, you can't just waltz on in here and..."
The woman that Tarquin had watched a short moment before rode up to them and hailed the mercenary, "Good afternoon! Are you lost, sir?"
Tarquin tried not to giggle at the fact that he'd been called sir, "No, I don't think so. I was just talking to this fine gentleman here, and he told me that he thinks you're the best rider here."
The thin man stiffened as his jaw went slack.
"Oh, did he?" The woman laughed as she pulled off her riding helmet. She was broad shouldered and tall, and she had a full head of deep red hair that spilled down over her back as she shook her head to and fro.
Tarquin resisted the urge to frown. She was an incredibly beautiful woman, and she was just his type, but she wasn't the one he was looking for.
