The Champion

Chapter 4: Intrigue

And so the first week passed.

When the sun set at last the following day, the girls gathered in the dining hall, and as Danae hung back, a smile playing at her lips, the drawing was held again. The remaining 27 girls crowded forward eagerly to draw their straws, and 11 of them them retreated dissapointed. Then blonde buxom Asta pulled forth the short straw, and so it was her shapely ass that was pounded into the Champion's bed that night.

The next night it was dark Isparana's turn, and the black girl's loud wails filled the courtyard as the Champion devoted the entire night to thoroughly explored the deepest inner recesses of her soft womb and ass with his big cock.

Isparana was followed by Rikichi of the Hykarnian delegation, and the girl's golden skin shone with sweat in the firelight of the Champion's tent as the two of them fucked away the hours.

It was Allissa who drew the short straw the following night, gazing at the Champion in awe as the other girls retreated bitterly. Minutes later the blonde beauty was naked on her back in the Champion's tent and holding on for dear life as he rode her for all he was worth, and her screams of ecstatic pleasure as she felt the tip of his big cock touching the deepest parts of her womb could be heard inside the castle itself.

The following night it was Frigga who found herself staring in delighted amazement at the short straw in her hand. Sunrise in the morning found her snuggled up to the Champion in a deep sleep, her long golden hair damp with sweat as the handsome warrior's recently spurted seed cooled in her womb, her belly and her ass.

The seventh night it was Elle who eagerly made the trip to the Champion's tent, and recieved what she had dreamed of for so long: the Champion's big cock plunging deeply into her womb. The brunette beauty shouted out her pleasure so enthusiastically that a jealous Princess Freyda sent a Royal Guardsman down to the Champion's tent to ask them to be quieter.

The morning of the eighth day found Octorius sitting patiently by the gate leading into the castle as he watched the closed folds of the entry to the Champion's tent expectantly.

Soon the tent flaps were thrown back and a positively glowing Elle emerged. Her Brythunian dress of bright green and white shone in the early morning sun as she paused and looked up at the sky and closed her eyes, letting out a deep, contented sigh.

Then she flashed a winning smile at Octorius and moved past him through the gate, a spring in her step.

"Right." Octorious said to himself, still waiting patiently.

After a few more slow minutes had gone by, the tent flaps parted again and the Champion appeared, clad only in brown breeches, his muscular, tanned torso bare.

Blearily, he gazed up at the sun with bloodshot eyes and staggered over to where a nearby water trough waited. Noisily he bent and splashed his face with cold water as Octorious rose from where he had sat against the gate and came over.

"Ah, there you are my friend. Sleep well?"

The Champion raised his head and looked down at Octorious, water dripping from his sandy hair and down his chin. His eyes looked even more bloodshot up close, and it was clear the man was only half-awake.

Then he turned and splashed his face again.

"Hmmmph. I guess not." Octorius lifted up a bucket he had in one hand. "Brought ya some breakfast and some of that Kindarian wine from the Black Kingdoms. Seems to help me get going better on slow mornings."

The Champion swept his hair back and stretched, letting out a yawn as various joints in his back cracked and popped.

"Kindarian wine? Where did you get that from?" he said, his voice weary.

"Why, from Yana, of course." Octorious said. "She brought an ample supply with her. And she shares it quite freely, too."

"Of course she does." The Champion said, turning and walking back to his tent, holding the flap open so Octorious could duck in.

The brawny mustachioed warrior could see that the fire had died down near the center pole, and the furs of the bed, a divan really, were all in dissarray.

"What do you mean by that?" Octorius ventured as he watched the Champion struggle into a leather jerkin, followed by a bright blue open-necked shirt.

"Well she's fucking you every night, isn't she?" Turning, the Champion picked up his swordbelt and began fastening it around his waist.

Octorius grinned and shrugged. "Well, not EVERY night. Some nights I have to recuperate, you know."

"And that's what Kindarian wine is." the Champion said, picking up a large brown cloak and slinging it over his shoulders. "It's a specially made drink the women of Hyrkania give their men to aid their organs in replenishing their seed."

Octorius' jaw dropped. "Wh-what?"

The Champion grinned. "It's a famous aphrosodiac. Quite effective too. Haven't you noticed while you and Yana are going at it that you're cockstands are more numerous and your spends more powerful?"

Octorius' face flushed. "Well, yeah, now that you mention it." Ruefully he lifted a bottle from the bucket he carried and held it out to the Champion.

"And if that's the case," he said, as the larger man opened the bottle and took a healthy drink, "why haven't you been swilling it down the last week?"

The Champion smacked his lips and grinned at Octorius. "As fine as I remember it." Then he looked at Octorius and shrugged. "Well I don't really need it."

Now Octorius grinned. "Ach, you should have seen your face when you came out of this tent. Now the girl, on the other hand, was the picture of delight. Had a spring in her step, she did."

"A healthy fuck will do that for a girl." the Champion said. "She spent about 15 times." "And you?"

The Champion laughed. "3 times. I wanted to stop at two, but she insisted on showing off her talented mouth."

"So she had a spring in her step, but on the other hand, you...." and here Octorius staggered around the tent drunkenly, his eyes squinting.

"Oh knock it off." the Champion said, nonplussed.

"Come now, man. It's obvious to a warrior!" Octorious said, suddenly serious. "There was an attempt on your life in the castle yon the past week, and bedding these gorgeous sluts every night has exhausted you! Seven down, fourteen more to go, and another few days of this you'll not be fit to hold a sword! And who knows what kind of assassins and witches might be in hiding around here!"

"Will you stop worrying?" the Champion said brusquely. "I'm fine. I could be getting more sleep, it's true, but this has got to be done. I can sleep for days on the ships once we launch."

Octorius snorted. "Stuck on one of those ships for 4 weeks with 28 gorgeous women? Hah, none of us will be doin' much sleepin', I'll warrent."

The Champion took another healthy swig of the Kindarian wine, draining the bottle and tossed it aside.

"We'll we've got a full day's work ahead of us." he said, heading out of the tent and making his way away from the castle and down towards the road leading to the center of the town. Octorius followed.

Selvinus joined them on the road, and soon the three of them passed through the town of Balmouth and stood before the docks, where the cream of the vaunted Brythunian navy could be seen.

300 warships bobbed and weaved with the tide, and hundreds of soldiers bustled like ants running to and fro, dragging crates of supplies up the gangplanks, or swarming over the masts and sails, adjusting the riggings.

As the Champion and his companions came to a stop near the docks main gatehouse, a large man with a wooden leg wearing the uniform of a high ranking Brythunian admiral stepped out and threw him a salute.

"What news?" the Champion said, returning the salute.

"Well I can change my last estimate for the better." the admiral reported. "Got a new division in from Jundland and those northern boys were ready to go to work. I can knock a whole day off the schedule. We'll be ready to sail in 15 days, not 16."

"That's if nothing else comes up." Selvinus put in. "Something always goes wrong on something like this."

The admiral nodded. "First time we've ever tried anything like this. Can't complain about how's it's gone, though. It's been amazing to see armies from Brythnia, Hyrkania, Jundland, Gonbor and other countries all working together like this."

"Thank you, Admiral Belkus." the Champion said. "Now if I could see the manifest for the supplies for those 14 Jundland ships that were just added to the armada......"

And at that moment the Champion was interrupted by the sound of hard-ridden horse bearing down on the party.

Turning, he beheld a horse being ridden expertly around the crates covering the dock, closing at almost a full gallop. On it's back sat a hooded rider in a purple cloak.

A magnificent animal, it was a large black stallion, with a flowing mane, one of the largest horses the Champion had ever seen, and he had seen plenty.

As the rider drew closer, Selvinus and Octorious stepped in front of the champion, their blades whispering from their sheaths.

"Not necessary." the Champion said, as the two men looked back at him over their shoulders, their faces uncertain.

"This rider is steeped in white magic, not black, and..........it's a girl."

As the party watched, the rider deftly heeled the stallion to a stop just feet from them and vaulted lightly over it's back, to land with a nimble skipping jump and then come to a stop before them. A brown-gloved hand swept up to throw back the hood.......

And the face of a stunningly gorgeous girl was revealed, along with a wild, flowing mane of auburn hair. Her eyes, which were a brilliant green, flashed at them as she strode forward, and her eyes lingered on the face of the Champion as Selvinus and Octorious hurriedly got out of her way.

Tall for a girl, she came up to to the height of the Champion's eyes, whereas most women came up only to his shoulder. He gazed back down at her and for a long moment neither spoke.

Then he held up a hand and she put her own gloved hand in his.

"Toritinus Heleviticus Crixus, I presume?" the Champion said, raising her hand and kissing it in the formal fashion.

"Well yes, that IS her." Octorious mumbled.

"Didn't know she could ride like that." Selvinus muttered.

"Amazing lady." Admiral Belkus offered, not able to take his eyes from the generous swelling over the girl's chest that even her riding cloak couldn't conceal.

"You have the advantage of me, sir." the Mage said with a smile that revealed dazzlingly white teeth. "Everyone everywhere knows of the Champion. It's an honor to finally meet you. You can call me Tori."

"So......Tori. Why did you just ride like a madwoman through an entire pier full of cargo to see us this fine morning?"

The beautiful girl arched an eyebrow. "Ah. Right to the point. Good. I like that." She turned and pointed to the hills to the East. "I was crystal gazing this morning and beheld a fell omen coming from the East. Farther down the coast, along the rocky crags, a ship that reeked of death. A black crow filled my vision, and in his eyes the ankh, the sign of....."

"The Witches of Nin!" Selvinus finished with a shudder.

"I thought you should know at once." Tori said simply.

"You thought well." The Champion turned and looked out over the harbor, scratching his jaw thoughtfully. "Could they have already discerned my plan? Have they sailed early? Or could this just be a scouting party?"

"Only one way to find out." Selvinus said. "I'll fetch the horses!"

"And I'll be coming with you!" Tori said, a firmness in her voice that brooked no argument and she looked up at the Champion with a bit of a challenge in her green eyes.

"Glad to have you." he said. "After watching to ride like that, I guess I don't have to ask if you can keep up with three mounted warriors."

"Actually," the girl said as she strode over to where the big black stallion pawed the wooden planks of the pier restlessly, "the real question is, can the three of you keep up with ME?"

The Champion came over and stood next her and the stallion snorted, turning it's head sideways to have a look at the large human that now stood close to it's mistress.

"A fine animal." he said. "What's his name?"

"Charger!" Tori said proudly. "Isn't he magnificent!?"

Indeed he was. The black stallion was just as large as Xerxes, the horse that the Champion had ridden for the past 5 years, a red stallion with a white patterned face.

Tori looked up at the Champion as she patted the stallion's nose. "You're probably wondering why a girl has been chosen to be Brythunia's royal mage, aren't you?"

"I confess the news came as a bit of a surprise." the Champion said diplomatically while behind him Octorious rolled his eyes.

"Well I was chosen by Geoffinus himself!" the girl said somewhat defensively. "It's true I'm young and I'm still learning, but I'm already a very good mage!"

"I believe you, lass." the Champion said honestly.

"Look!" Tori said, reaching up onto the saddle and pulling forth a cloth-wrapped object. She folded back the cloth and revealed the sword with the blue blade and the silver glowing handle that had been carried by the assassin in the Princess' room.

"I've tested this blade, and I have figured out how to render it harmless to you! Though of course, it would still kill a normal person!"

Taking the sword from her, the Champion held it by the handle, and then as everyone watched, drew a finger of his other hand down the razor sharp blade. There was no cut.

Turning, the Champion handed the sword to Octorious. "If you please." he said.

"Why certainly!" the squat warrior said, and took the sword and swung it at the arm the Champion held up. The big warrior suddenly tensed the muscles in that arm as the sword made contact with his forearm, and the blade shattered into many little pieces that fell to the ground with a clatter.

Turning back to the girl, who stood with wide open mouth and looking at him with disbelieving eyes, the Champion smiled.

"Impressive work, lass."

Finally the girl found her voice. "A.....are you INSANE!!!" she yelled, stamping the wooden pier with her little foot. "What if some of the magic still resided in it, not enough to give you a cut on a finger, but enough to hack your bloody arm off!!!"

"But it didn't!" the Champion said with a wink. He had sensed from the moment that the girl handed him the blade that all the magic had indeed been drained from it. "I trusted your work, girl."

Staring ruefully at the pieces of the sword that lay on the pier as Octorious turned and threw the now useless handle into the ocean, Tori ran a hand through her red hair.

"Oh, bother! I was hoping to do more tests on that blade. Maybe figure out what made the steel turn blue."

The Champion laughed as Selvinus came trotting up with the horses. "Well the dead man we took that sword from claimed there were others like himself after me. So it could be you'll get some new toys to play with ere long, girl."

The party set out from Balmouth, heading to the East towards the hills that sat there. The Champion noted that Tori indeed had no trouble keeping up with three seasoned warriors who were accustomed to moving fast.

One one steep hill with rocky crags facing the ocean on one side, and the treeline of a great forest on the other, Tori drew up and pointed.

"This is the area that I saw in my vision. I'm certain of it. The boat was just on the other side making a landing further down the beach."

"Well, let's have a look, shall we?"

Since the hill was too steep for the horses to move comfortably, the party left them tethered to a tree and started up the hill on foot.

It was hard going, and when they were halfway up Octorious and Selvinus were already sweating and panting, while Tori and the Champion moved to the front, leading the way.

Suddenly Tori stopped. "That's funny. I could swear I heard a horse whinny just now."

The Champion looked up the hill, where at the top a line of dense trees obscured his vision. "If there's a horse up there, girl, it's not a wild one. Get behind me!"

Suddenly six black-clad horsemen burst from the treeline and bore down on them. All wore armor, and carried lances, which they dipped in unison as they thundered down upon the party.

With a sweep of his arm the Champion knocked Tori to the ground and stepped in front of her prone body even as he drew his broadsword. To his left and right Octorious and Selvinus drew their own weapons, each man dropping into a crouch.

"What do we..." Selvinus started to ask.

"At my signal, drop and roll to your outside shoulder." the Champion said, his voice even and unafraid even though now the group of horsemen were but a scant 25 yards away.

Then just as the lances came abreast of them the two men dropped and rolled, while the Champion, instead of dropping himself, gauged the distance with a practiced eye and then deflected the lance aimed at his chest and sidestepped while chopping down at the same instant as the horses hurtled by him.

Five horses continued on down the hill, but the one in the middle let out shriek of agony as it's forelegs came off and it flew up and over the prostrate Tori to land headfirst, throwing it's mail-clad rider with great force more than 30 yards further down the hill.

In a flash the Champion raced past Tori, and with hardly a pause, ended the shuddering animal's agony with a quick thrust that found it's heart.

As Selvinus and Octorious got shakily to their feet, the Champion reached the downed knight, who had gotten to his own feet and was starting to draw his sword. However, it seemed to have become stuck in it's scabbard.

The other knights were still trying to arrest the downward momentum of their horses and swing them around for a charge up the hill.

Seeing the bucket-shaped helmet was up and looking towards him, the Champion suspected that the foe was only pretending to be having trouble drawing his sword. A ruse common to the Shorinju Master Assassins of Nepalia, who lured pursuers close by pretending to have a stuck sword, and then executed them with a sudden draw, the Champion was quite familiar with it.

Pretending to fall for it, he used a lure of his own, raising his sword high above his head and letting out a yell as he bore down the last few steps, as if looking to step right up and cleave his foe from crown to crotch.

Sure enough, as he made the last step and started to bring his sword down, his armored foe suddenly dropped into a crouch and drew his 'stuck' sword with blazing speed, and had the Champion truly attempted a downward slash he would have been cut in two by the two and a half feet of razor sharp steel in the assassin's hands. Assuming of course, that the blade could cut him. The Champion had already determined in every fight not to trust his immortal flesh but instead to treat every attack as if his foe's weapons could kill him.

Instead of slashing downward with the sword however, what the Champion did was drop the point of his broadsword straight down towards his foot so that the assassin's blade was not only blocked, it was rebounded away, causing the attacker to lose his balance and stagger.

Even as he tried to bring his blade back around to block the strike he could see developing as the Champion brought his blade back up over his head the black clad foe knew he was doomed, and the futile scream that started from inside the helmet was abruptly cut off as the Champion's broadsword split through it and the head inside it.

Even as the body fell, already twitching in it's death throes as he pulled his sword free, the Champion's gaze went to the group of horses at the base of the hill. Having regrouped, the riders were spurring them for a charge up the hill.