Sellsword

Chapter 2: The Spider Priestess

© 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004

This story was previously posted on a site that is no longer fully functional

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"Where are we going anyway?" the woman asked, squirming to get more comfortable in her saddle.

"Kal-sorak. I have a friends there, and I need to put our wealth in a safe place," her companion responded, scanning his surroundings warily.

His name is Garth, he's a mercenary, a sellsword. Her name is Jarveena, she became Garth's woman when he took her out of servitude as part of his payment on his last contract.

"How long has it been since you were there?"

"More than five years, but I have friends there, they will have been looking after my affairs." He looked at Jarveena and sensed her discomfort, they had been riding for days. "We'll camp early tonight. We should reach Kal-sorak by dusk tomorrow.

They continued riding as the sun began it's descent into the western sky.

"So you have come back Garth?" The low voice chuckled deep in a far away temple.

A woman's hands moved over the surface of her scrying bowl and the image shown on the water's surface became clearer.

"And who is the lovely morsel with you? Would she be jealous of our coupling? Would she enjoy feeling the lust of my minions?"

The woman was Mytra, an elvish queen and high priestess, quite beautiful, and quite evil, for she was of the Drow, the Dark Elves who worshipped the Spider Goddess.

"Oh Garth, you will be so surprised at the changes in your homeland, now that we have made it ours." Her smile was both beautiful and terrifying, "You were a fool for leaving," her chuckle was evil, "and an even greater fool for returning."

The image on the water's surface blurred then faded. Mytra pushed the vessel from her and stood up. "Demron!" she called, "I need you."

Garth and Jarveena stopped for the night on the crest of a ridge.

"Kal-sorak is less than a days ride," Garth informed her as he built the fire. When he turned, he saw Jarveena slipping her leather vest off and untying her leather breeches.

"Do you know what I want to do?" she smiled, pushing the leather down her long legs.

"I know what I want to do," Garth chuckled, unlacing his mail shirt.

Jarveena was tall for a woman, and her body was an erotic dream – large, proud breasts, a flat belly and narrow waist. Her hips, rounded and tapering to firm, well muscled thighs. Between her legs a triangle of soft hair concealing her moist cunt lips.

Garth felt the flames of desire flaring up within him, centering itself in the swelling rigidity of his growing erection.

"Hmm," Jarveena stared at Garth's stiff cock, "that looks tasty." She licked her lips and walked toward the, now naked, warrior.

Garth's fingers found Jarveena's honey colored hair as she sank to her knees before him. He looked down at her and their eyes met. His smoldering with desire, hers glazed with anticipation.

Jarveena's soft fingers caressed Garth's balls, gently stroking and tickling them as she watched his cock grow still harder. Her lips parted as she ran her pink tongue over Garth's dark cock-head, making it glisten with saliva before forming an 'O' with her full lips and sealing them over the head of Garth's cock. Pressing her tongue over the large vein, Jarveena took Garth's cock into her mouth slowly – deliberately prolonging the movement until the head of his mighty cock was lodged in the top of her throat.

"Gods woman!" The warrior gasped, feeling her throat tighten over his cock-head.

Jarveena began moving her head up and down, rejoicing in the feeling of her lover's cock moving in and out of her hungry mouth. Her hands went to his balls, fondling them as she eagerly sucked his rock hard erection.

Garth tightened his grip on Jarveena's head and began thrusting his hips fucking her willing mouth – driving his cock into her throat. He could feel the vibration of her ecstatic moans as his cock moved faster and

faster.

Jarveena's cunt was growing wetter and wetter as Garth continued fucking her mouth. She moved one hand down to insert her fingers into her furnace like pussy, feeling the soaking lips swell around her probing fingers. She could feel herself clutching at her fingers as she neared her first orgasm.

His balls were quickly filling as Garth felt his climax building deep inside – like a great storm gathering force. The sensation of Jarveena's soft lips and eagerly sucking mouth urged him quickly to the brink. He teetered there for long seconds, until he could hold back no longer.

Jarveena knew Garth was about to cum. As she felt his cock pulsating and his balls drawing tight, her own orgasm crashed through her body. Wave after wave of ecstasy flowed through her muscles and every nerve in her body.

Then Garth's cock erupted in Jarveena's hungry mouth. Cock-head throbbing

– shaft pulsing – Garth's hot semen poured into Jarveena's mouth, and down

her throat as she swallowed every drop. Savoring her lovers cum like it was the finest of wines.

Their moans of passion filled the quiet night of the hillside. The aroma

of their lust mingled with the scent of the wildflowers.

Garth lifted Jarveena's mouth from his, still firm, cock.

She licked the wet shaft. Then she leaned back on the soft grass, her knees up – her legs open – an invitation to her lover – an offering to her warrior god.

With no hesitation, Garth knelt between her legs and pressed his mouth to

her waiting pussy. His tongue flicked over her swollen clit as he lifted

her hips to him and thrust his tongue inside her.

Jarveena cried out in pleasure as her cunt spasmed in a second orgasm. Her

legs scissored around Garth's head, clutching him tightly to her steaming

cunt.

Garth felt her lips swell as Jarveena came, her cunt tightening on Garth's

probing tongue. He began licking the full length of his woman's soaking wet slit, flicking the tip of his tongue over her clit, then moving down to probe within her dripping cunt, then pausing to tickle the puckered rosebud of her ass. Then back up again to begin the exciting journey all over again.

As Jarveena came, a third time, she cried out in her passion, "Fuck me! Let me feel you inside me. Fuck me!"

Garth moved atop her and thrust his raging cock into Jarveena's waiting cunt. In a single powerful stroke, he sent his cock into her to its full length. He felt the blunt head of his cock tapping the mouth of her womb even as his balls slapped against the crack of her ass. Garth pounded his raging cock into Jarveena with a fury that he didn't know he was capable of. Her cunt, tight, hot and wet, gripped him like a velvet glove. He could feel every muscle in her cunt as she flexed it over his pumping prick.

"Yes," Jarveena gasped, "fuck me hard, fast and hard."

Garth felt his balls tightening as his cock head pounded Jarveena's womb, and her swelling lips gripped his cock even tighter. Even after the intensity of his last eruption, Garth could feel himself on the verge of yet another monumental explosion.

Sensing Garth's impending climax, Jarveena reached down and grabbed the base of Garth's cock, squeezing it tightly in her strong grip, holding back his ejaculation, prolonging the intense fucking she was receiving.

Once Jarveena felt herself again on the threshold, she released her grasp on Garth's cock, then let herself be caught up in the wild spasms of orgasm.

Garth thrust his cock deep inside the woman, his full balls slapping her ass as he felt himself going over the edge. His climax, held back as it was, was now even more intense, more powerful and more plentiful than before. His balls spasmed, all his muscles flexed as his pounding cock erupted into Jarveena's eager, hungry cunt.

Their bodies glistening with sweat, the lovers came and came, their juices

flowing and mingling until Jarveena's cunt filled to overflowing, and Garth's seed ran down the crack of her ass.

They lay in each other's arms until Garth's cock began to deflate and Jarveena, reluctantly, allowed it to slip from her dripping cunt. Side by side they looked up at the sky, saying nothing until their breathing returned to normal. Garth was the first to break the silence.

"Sleep now, I'll stand guard for four hours, then I'll awaken you." He reached for his breeches and sword belt.

Jarveena stretched like a great cat and softly purred.

"Isn't that sweet Demron? Young lovers in a grassy meadow, how romantic."

Mytra watched Garth and Jarveena in the water of her scrying bowl. "I can

hardly wait to welcome him back to Kal-sorak." She turned to her companion, a squat leather-scaled creature whose red eyes and warty hide suggested a demonic birthplace.

"I can see their performance excited you too." Mytra said gazing at the creatures swollen genitalia. "Come then, fill your queen." She lay back on the soft cushions of her chamber and opened her legs in wanton invitation.

"When I greet Garth, you may have your way with his companion."

With a drooling grin on its scabrous lips, Demron grunted his pleasure and

shuffled toward the waiting queen.

At dawn, Garth and Jarveena began the final leg of their journey, by dusk

they reached the gates of Kal-sorak.

"Strange, there are not guardsmen and the gates are open," Garth observed,

reflexively checking his sword and scanning the surrounding area.

"It seems odd that there would be no guards," Jarveena agreed.

With increased caution they rode through the open gates.

"We'll make for the inn, an old comrade of mine owns it," Garth stated.

"He'll be able to tell us what's going on."

The inn stood at the end of The Street of Swords. The street was so named for the weapon-wright shops that lined it. But none of them were open for business.

The sign above the inn door read "Preston's."

"Preston!" Garth called as he and Jarveena entered the inn. "Where in the nine hells are you?"

"Garth? Is that you?" A voice answered from the back room.

"No you old fool, it's your maiden aunt."

An old warrior emerged from the back, his right eye hidden by a patch, his left arm ending in a spiked iron ball where his hand should have been.

This was Preston, Garth's old comrade and mentor. He bore the scars of many battles, and he bore them with pride.

"You shouldn't have come back my friend," the old man said in a sad voice.

"Why not? What's going on here? We saw no guards at the gate, and the gates stood open, even at dusk." Garth was looking around the common room, "Where is everyone?"

Preston drew three measures of ale and began, "The Dark Elves have taken over this city. You DO recall the last time you met with them?"

Garth nodded.

"Well their queen remembers you, all too well. She's here. She's moved herself and her unholy minions into the Great Temple."

"How long have they been here?" Jarveena asked.

"Long enough to drive most everyone out. Those that didn't leave, and didn't bend their knee to her foul goddess, were taken as sacrifices to that fucking spider."

Garth saw the puzzled expression on Jarveena's face. "The Dark Elves, some

call them The Drow, worship a Spider Goddess. Their goddess requires human

sacrifice from time to time." He turned to Preston, "Why have they come down to Kal-sorak? Surely not for simple revenge on me."

Preston shook his head, "No, they were driven out of their native lairs by

the Elves of Noldor. It was a beautiful war, many of our comrades fought in it, and many left their shades upon the field as well." Preston sipped his ale before going on. "With no king to lead them, the Drow were no match for the Noldor hoards. Mytra is an evil bitch, but she's no general."

"How long after I left did all that happen?" Garth was leaning forward now, listening with great interest.

Preston thought for a moment, "About a year, at my best recollection. Yes,

a year later. You were off on some contract, or you'd have joined in that

war, for sure."

Garth took a deep swallow of ale, "For certain I would. But how is it no

word ever reached me?" He shook his head, "I never heard anything about either the war, or the Drow moving here."

Jarveena agreed, "No word of such ever reached the western fiefs." She glanced at Garth, "I would have heard."

"But what of you Preston?" Garth asked. "What have you been doing besides running this inn?"

"Waiting to hear some word about you mostly. There were some rumors that you put down a rebellion in one of the western fiefs. I guess there's some substance to that one, eh?" His eyes were on Jarveena.

Garth shrugged it off, he was interested in the where-abouts of his friends. "What of Clinch, Logar and Will?"

"Theirs are three of the shades that haunt the battlefield. Brickland and the easterner, Agi too. All dead. Only Mick, of our guild, survived the war. He was among the first taken by the bitch and her minions. Gavin had already left, with Robyn, when the war started."

"I never thought anyone could best Clinch in a fair fight," Garth mused.

"None did, Clinch was slain by base treachery and majik. An ensorcelled arrow struck him in the back of the neck. I recovered his body and put it on the pyre. His sword, 'Soulcatcher' I have kept safe. I figured he would want you to take it up to avenge him."

"If 'Soulcatcher' will accept me, Clinch's shade can rest assured that I will seek revenge for his death."

Jarveena touched Garth's arm, "What do you mean if it accepts you? Is it not just a sword?"

Garth let out a grim chuckle, "Much more than a simple sword.

'Soulcatcher' was wrought and enchanted by wizards of Eldritch days. It bears great majiks within its blade."

"And the blade is wrought of star metal." Preston added. "Nothing in this

world can even dent the blade." He looked at Jarveena and appraised her overall build. "Can you draw a bow?"

"I have used one, yes," she responded. "Why is it you ask?"

"I also was able to recover the bow Agi used." His face was grim as he turned to Garth, "What think you about giving the bow to your woman?"

"The Hart Bow?" Garth was surprised. "It will kill all those it rejects. I

would be very careful about handing it to anyone."

"Wait a minute, you two." Jarveena protested, "I'm the one that has to make up her mind. It's my life that this Hart Bow will take, or not, right?" She stood with her fists on her hips, "Are you certain that this 'Soulcatcher' will accept you? Will you not die if it rejects you?"

Garth nodded, realizing that this woman was his equal in both courage and

determination. "So be it," was all he said.

Beneath the inn was a vault – stone walls and ceiling sealed by an iron bound door. The three comrades now stood before the door.

"What is that that I feel in my ears?" Jarveena asked.

"That's the majik of the seals that were cast to lock the door." Preston responded, pulling a scroll from beneath his tunic.

"Some of Gavin's work?" Garth asked.

Preston nodded as he opened the scroll. He read the words inscribed on the

parchment and the massive door slowly swung open.

"Wait here," Preston instructed them, stooping to enter the vault.

In a moment he returned with two bundles, each wrapped in what looked to be dragon hide. He placed them on a long table and turned to Garth.

"This is the 'Soulcatcher'," he intoned. "Would you wield this blade?"

The words were ritualistic and Garth knew the proper response. "I would bend to the test of 'Soulcatcher.' Let this instrument of war decide my worthiness."

Preston unwrapped the sword. It rested in a plain scabbard, and looked to be a plain sword, devoid of any ornamentation. "Grip the sword Garth, and let 'Soulcatcher' determine your fate."

The warrior wrapped his hand around the leather grip and slowly drew the huge blade from its resting place.

As the blade cleared the sheath, it changed from a blade of gleaming steel

to one of a deep, black luster. Along the blade, mythril runes burned to life. A low moaning sound filled the basement as Garth lifted the sword above his head.

At the tip of the sword, on it's very point, a small light was ignited. It

grew and began to envelop the sword, moving down to engulf the blade, the

cross guard, the grip and the pommel.

As the fire began to spread down Garth's arm, his teeth gritted against the pain. Sweat began to bead on his furrowed brow as the living flame completely covered his body, then pulsed as it held him in thrall.

Jarveena watched in horror as her man was being tortured by this mighty sword, then, in a blink, the flame vanished.

Garth staggered but kept his feet, and his grip upon the sword.

The Soulcatcher had accepted Garth.

Jarveena ran to him and threw her arms around him, she could feel the pounding of his heart through the mail shirt.

They stood like this for a moment before Jarveena pulled away. "Will my ritual be the same?" she asked, looking at Preston.

"Only the words – only the words. For the Hart Bow to accept you, we must step out in the back." He turned toward the stairs, "Come."

The night was clear and moonless. Jarveena looked up at the stars in wonder, realizing that this may be the last glimpse of them she would ever have.

Preston unwrapped the bow and quiver. The bow itself was constructed of a set of horns; antlers, from a large Hart, (we call them stags) with a leather wrap at the grip. A strip of sinew served as the bow string. The quiver held but a single arrow, it was long and well feathered and looked to be made of some hard dark wood.

Preston strung the bow then held it out to Jarveena, "This is the Hart Bow. Would you draw this bow?"

Jarveena swallowed, hard. With some tension in her voice she responded, "I

would bend to the test of the Hart Bow. Let this instrument of the hunt decide my worthiness."

She took the bow in her hand and withdrew the single arrow from the quiver. The arrowhead was broad and sharp, wrought from some strong metal.

She nocked the arrow to the bowstring and raised the bow to her cheek. The

draw was strong, but Jarveena was able to pull the bow to it's fullest before loosing the shaft at the indicated target.

The arrow flew from the bow and traveled about half the distance to the target when it stopped and turned. The point of the arrowhead was aimed exactly at Jarveena's heart.

The arrow flew back toward Jarveena, she stood rock still for the instant it took for the arrow to pierce her breast and drill through her heart.

The arrow left Jarveena's body after going completely through her, yet the girl still stood. There was no blood on her, front or back, and she felt no pain. She looked first to Garth and then to Preston.

"Open your blouse," Preston instructed.

Jarveena did as she was told and found a scar on her left breast, the likeness of a bow and arrow lay directly over her heart.

"You have been accepted – mark you that the arrow has returned to the quiver."

"What does that mean?" Garth and Jarveena both asked.

"This arrow will always return to the quiver. Any arrow may be loosed from

this bow, at it will probably find its target – for such is the enchantment of the Hart Bow – but this arrow will ALWAYS fly true, and will always return to the quiver." Preston looked around, "Quickly, we must get back inside. That spider spawn will be scrying for you tonight."

Shortly before midnight the Drow queen sat before her scrying bowl. "Where

are they? Why can I not see them?"

She waved her hands back and forth over the waters surface, but to no avail.

"By the horns of the black dragon where ARE they?" Mytra swore, standing away from her desk. "Demron!" the queen called. "Bring me the mortal."

In moments the hideous creature returned ushering in a mortal male. He was naked and bound in leather harness and wrist chains. There was a spiked collar around his neck and a chain attached to that. Demron handed the chain to the queen then withdrew.