The Inn

[Author's note and the story so far: Well, my day job keeps stubbornly defying my goal of posting chapters weekly, but at least this one is slightly longer than the last. I hope you enjoy it!

We rejoin Simon Kettridge in his room at the inn, where he's just learned that a high snake-priestess's venom has knocked him out for days on end, interrupting his letter-writing campaign to save the Phaeland Empire. Utter destruction awaits the realm at the hands of the hordes of evil arch-mage Necromanata, and stopping this disaster has fallen to Simon. He has only himself to blame, because after being transported to the universe of his fantasy novel series, he accidentally screwed things up for the characters who were supposed to defeat the necromancer, and now there's no one but him standing in the way of hellish devastation for the unsuspecting people of Phaeland. One of these endangered folk is Leyna, the inn's delightful serving maid and resident prostitute, with whom Simon has grown increasingly infatuated ...]

"A week?"

Leyna nodded, but I still couldn't process it.

"Seriously, a week?"

"Yes," she said, her pretty brow gaining a hint of furrow to mar the relief and happiness of her expression. "That's not so bad, is it?"

I fell back against the pillows, still holding her, still feeling the comfort of her warmth and weight against my chest. "I don't know," I said. My mind struggled to throw off the furze of a week in wild hallucinatory unconsciousness. I sat up again, my face close to hers — close enough to kiss, if things had been different. If I weren't in a panic. "My letters — I've missed the post officer ..."

Her brow furrowed deeper, in frustration or annoyance. She sat up a bit.

"I mailed the one from your desk," she said. "It was already sealed and addressed. And you're always acting like they're so important, these letters of yours. So I thought I'd best."

"You did?" Now I pulled her close again and

did

kiss her — though only on her forehead. "Thank god! Bless you, Leyna."

The annoyance went to a blush. "Well, certainly. I had to dig into your pockets to pay for it, though. Most of my sheet money went to paying the healer and buying medicine."

"What? Leyna, you didn't have to do that."

"Oh, yes I

did!

" The blue of her eyes floated entirely in their whites, they went so wide. "Simon, you were afire after that snake-creature bit you. And bleeding from your shoulder, and delirious, and ..."

Her gaze slipped toward my crotch — where, I realized, my cock remained at full erection. Looking down at it with her, I found it painfully swollen, and linked to my balls by a deep ache.

"I hope this isn't too embarrassing," she went on, "but the healer said your stick and sack were going to burst if something didn't empty them now and again. So, I had to ... um ..."

"That's why you were blowing me when I woke up? How often did you ...?"

Half as if she were thinking, and half as if she couldn't meet my gaze, Leyna's eyes went up toward the ceiling. "I don't know. Three or four times a day, I suppose."

"Jesus, Leyna. I'm really sorry about that."

She gave a silly scowl and pushed at my right shoulder with one hand. "Don't be daft. I was happy to do it. Almost my favorite thing to do for a man, especially one I ... well, one needs it or his jewel-box will explode."

We watched each other quietly a moment. Then I lifted my hand and eased her blonde bangs aside with a finger. "I'm very lucky you've got such a good heart."

As the quiet went on, she bit her lower lip, released it, straightened her shoulders and sat up. "And that I love getting my mouth all over a man's root! You'd have been in a right spot of trouble if I were a prude."

"Well, thank you for not being a prude," I said. "And thank you for everything else, too. I'll find a way to pay back all the money you spent, I promise."

She laughed and winked. "I'm sure we can work out some sort of arrangement."

My venom-roused hard-on somehow swelled even stiffer, making me cough uneasily. Leyna laughed again.

In the corner of the room, the pot-bellied iron fireplace crackled. Light from the window over the desk told me it was daytime, though I had no idea exactly when. After a short stretch of quiet, Leyna's mouth and button nose squinched sideways just a bit, like she needed to work up her courage for something. A brand in the fire gave a loud pop, which she used as an excuse to look that direction.

"So ... Simon, do you remember anything about the ... those things you said? While the fever had hold of you?"

Something nervous in her voice put me on edge.

Fuck. Did I start rambling about Necromanata and his army?

Or even worse ...

God, I didn't blabber that this whole world is something I made up for my books, did I?

For that matter, even just mumbling in my sleep about cars and phones and the real world might be pretty damn awkward to explain.

Play dumb.

"Honestly, no," I said. "But I was dreaming some really crazy stuff. Did I talk a lot?"

She nodded, chewing her lip again, still facing the fireplace. "Most every time I popped in here to tend you. At first I thought,

Well, the poison's just giving him mad visions.

But sometimes — I mean, you repeated things an awful lot, for it to be just dreams and madness."

Oh great.

I tried to lie there as casually as possible, like the weak convalescent I really was. The stubborn monument of my erection can't have helped my plausibility, though.

Thanks, Eesia.

"My memory's

really

hazy," I said. "But if I was babbling about the stuff from my dreams, I hope you could tell I was just being delirious."

"Oh. Right."

I seemed to have said the wrong thing.

"We're talking about the same dreams, aren't we?" I asked, wondering if she thought I was lying to her, hiding the truth. "Uh, horrible armies of zombies and orcs and ... stuff? You wouldn't want that to be real, would you?"

She gave a startled laugh and turned to me, looking relieved. "No, silly! Of course I didn't believe

that

outlandish stuff. I meant the things you said about ..."

"About what?"

The hesitation returned to her face — but just for a moment. Then her features smoothed themselves out into a look of hopeful venture. "About me."

Oh. What a fucking idiot I am sometimes.

"Um ... what did I say about you?" The question made my heart thump harder, while the rest of my body felt more than ever the debilitation of lying in bed sick for a week.

"I don't know," she said, with a completely unbelievable shrug. "Lots of things."

"Good things?"

She nodded.

With a deep breath, I said, "Well then, they were probably true. You're a wonder, Leyna."

A shiver ran through her, and she put a hand over her mouth.

"But look," I went on, "I still feel pretty sick, and I don't know what all I said, and I don't know if it was all stuff I'm really ready to talk about. All I know is that my cock is making it awfully hard to think right now, and —"

"Oh! Do you want me to finish giving it Glor's gulp?" she asked. Then her eyes went wide. "Or ... do you want me to ..."

"No no no," I said hurriedly, waving a hand — which made me shake enough to wave my erection as well. "I mean, I do ... I want it a lot. But I feel so

disoriented

. Plus, I've got to stink to high heaven."

Her cute little nose wrinkled. "You

are

rank. A bit. But Simon, I'll hitch up my skirts and slide onto you right now if you want. I don't care how you smell."

oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck

How could I turn that down? I burned for her as badly as anything in the fever swamps of Eesia's venom-gifted hallucinations. But as I opened my mouth to tell her 'yes,' my stomach decided it had other plans.

"Oh shit, I'm going to puke," I said, wrenching up and trying to turn so I wouldn't get it on the bed. Leyna hopped to her feet and grabbed a nearby pail.

"Here!"

I took it and got my mouth over it just in time.

"Blaughh!"

Whatever she'd been feeding me while I lay unconscious spewed out now in a fluid, bilious stream. I heaved for an ungodly long time, then collapsed back to the pillow exhausted. Apparently, vomiting held the cure for the prick-hardening poison in my system, because by the time I finished, my hard-on had finally gone limp.

"Sorry," I panted, eyes closed and hand on my belly. "Ugh."

Her hand patted my cheek, then wiped the corners of my mouth.

"It's all right, Simon," she said, almost in a whisper. "There will be lots of time when you're well."

Much more quickly than I would have expected, sleep washed back over me.

* * *

When I woke again I was alone, and the sunlight through the window had faded and fallen to a low angle. My stomach felt odd and my limbs very weak. I thought about getting up and seeing if I could make it downstairs for some food, even though the pangs in my stomach wavered ambiguously between almost-hungry and almost-nauseated. The struggle just to sit up convinced me not to push myself — motion made me woozy, and by the time I got propped against the headboard with the pillows behind my back, my heart rate had gone through the roof and I had to just sit and pant for breath.

I swear I'll never get a snake-priestess pissed at me again.

Sitting there with only the embers of the fire for company, I tried to figure out where things stood with my quest to destroy Necromanata.

Not great, I'm sure, considering I just lost a week because one of the people I thought was on

my

side bit and poisoned me.

The very first of my letters to reach its destination had almost gotten me killed.

But what about the others?

Eesia had shown up my seventh day in Phaeland, four days after I mailed my letters to the capital. Add my sick week to that, and by now Duke Phurl and Kleburn Mandermorte should both have gotten those first communications. In another week, then, Kleburn would return from Cymbelville with Vark's sword, and Phurl would get my second letter and, hopefully, make a bet that would fund several more errands by the light-fingered Mister Mandermorte. But I hadn't written any further instructions for Juliette's roguish friend, which meant he'd be sitting around with the magic weapon for a week or more wondering who'd sent him after it and why.

So a week from now, he'll be back with the sword. And a week after that, he could get whatever message I send him the next time the postal service comes through town. Which is a little over three weeks since Kurga left for the Undertowns. She'll be getting there about the same time Kleburn hears from me again. Okay ...

The letters Kurga Alderhaft was carrying for me would (if successful) send the Tinkervolde brothers to pick up Laluthe the Lumply and head to Phaeratos for a rendezvous with Kleburn. In the Tinkervoldes' Earth Arrow, they'd arrive in almost no time. None of these people had met at this point in the series (

I'm really fucking up all the plots of the later books,

I thought), but I knew they'd get along, and if Laluthe and the Tinkervoldes heeded my messages, they'd be able to find Kleburn without difficulty, even if he hadn't yet gotten further instructions from me. He might be curious why these people had sought him out, but if they compared letters, it would confirm they'd all joined the same mysterious correspondent's team. And Kleburn should have gotten Phurl's second bank deposit.

But would Kleburn be willing to go on a mission to rescue someone from Necromanata's dungeons without me actually telling him to?

Maybe. He's not entirely mercenary, and Laluthe and the T bros will know that if they don't get there by Saint Eldivar's Feast, Necromanata will sacrifice Amia the Pristine and start bringing the Truly Bad News.

The one good takeaway from Eesia's visit was knowing the First Temple of Scale had received and would act on my letter. I'd told them to send their mission to Phaeratos after St. Eldivar's, so at least that was on track.

Of course, if Kleburn or Phurl or Laluthe or the Tinkervoldes lollygag or aren't home right when my letters arrive, the Children of Septra will show up in the capital expecting their holy diamond, and there won't be any such thing in sight. Ugh. Oh, and worse than "ugh" — if that happens, they're going to throw a literal hissy fit and come after me.

I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. Just thinking all of this through had me nearly wiped out.

Awake ten minutes and I already need a nap.

A haze settled over me, the kind where you're not sure how much time is passing. But before I could either shake myself out of it or give in and fall asleep, a knock at the door startled me fully awake.

"Simon?"

"Um, yeah?" I said, looking down to find the covers across my lap bulging upward with an erection that had either been there several minutes or manifested itself instantly at the sound of Leyna's voice.

"I've had a moment to breathe, so I came up with some dinner for you. Do you think you could eat?"

I could eat your pussy and then dive right into it,

my insistent hard-on tried to get me to say.

"I don't know. Maybe." Not to be out-done by any organ beneath it, my stomach asserted itself with a rumble. "Yeah, I think."

"Oh, good!"

A key turned in the lock, and the door swung in to reveal the serving maid, a tray balanced atop one raised hand while the other dealt with the lock and door-handle. She wore the sky-blue dress from the first day I saw her, its bodice mounding up her lush breasts, its color a perfect match for her eyes.

And her face, framed by that blonde pixie-cut hair, lit up with a genuine happiness to see me.

Is it the leftover sex poison that made me notice her tits before her smile?

The clamor of my lower instincts annoyed me.

She deserves better than that.

As it turned out, though, I wasn't the only one looking at things other than faces.

"Aha!" Leyna said, eyes turning to my crotch as she set the tray on the desk and turned up the little lamp there. "I see someone is still a bit stiff from snakebite!"

"Sorry." A molten swell of embarrassment rose up my face. "I really ... uh ... I really didn't ..."

"Of course you didn't," she said, watching the bulge that I tried to lower by squirming my hips to a different angle. "Have you wanked it since I was here earlier?"

"No, no, I swear —"

"Well, do you

want

your nut-purse to burst its seams?" With a scowl, she stepped over and took hold of the sheets. "I told you, Healer Sylva said ..." Then her grip loosened and she straightened back up. "Oh dear. Sorry, I've just gotten used to ... while you were out, you know. Several times a day. Do you want me to let you take care of it, now that you're awake?"

I looked up at her, my chest turning hot as I remembered her offering to hike her skirts and sit on it if I wanted ... right before I puked. At the thought of that, my dick did its very best to throw the sheets completely off. Leyna saw and put a hand over her mouth to hide a giggle.

"Is that a yes?" she asked.

"Sure," I said, trying not to hiccup the word out. "But ... can you tell me something first?"

"Of course!"

With those blue eyes on me, I struggled to find something to ask. For whatever reason, it just seemed too crass to have her dive right down on my cock without even a stab at conversation. Still light-headed and off-balance, I went with the first thing that popped to mind.

"Why are you doing all this for me?" It seemed to catch her off-guard, so I clarified, "I mean, I'm so grateful, and you're a jewel for doing it — taking time away from your chores for the inn, and I suppose maybe from ... other things, too. I just don't know what I've done to deserve so much attention."

She cleared her throat, momentarily circumspect. When she spoke her voice had a dash of caution in it. "I suppose .... I suppose there are three reasons. For starters, I can't help it. Burgham says I've got too big a heart, but honestly, I can't see how there is such a thing. After that ... well, I hate to put it like this, but you're a bit like a little lost puppy, Simon. If I didn't keep you from harm, who would?"

Her smile kept me from feeling too cut by that. And the facts said she was right. Here I lay, barely able to move, and somehow I thought I was the guy to save the world from Necromanata's ravaging ghoul hordes. Thankfully, that line of thought shut down at the look on Leyna's face as she continued to watch me.

"What's the third reason?" I asked.

"Isn't it obvious? I fancy you." The words came out of her like they'd been waiting for the moment, like they knew their time had come — like she felt relieved to be able to explain something important to her. "I mean, I know I must be five or six years your junior, and probably just a silly goose young girl, as far as you can see. So I hope it doesn't embarrass us both ... but I fancy you. You're, well, you're like no one else I've met — and trust me, I've met some passing strange ones! On top of which, you

must

know you're a right handsome fellow."

My chest and face burned even hotter. The fuzz in my head drooped spongily across my entire vocabulary. I opened my mouth to say something — to say the

right

thing, whatever it was that would express to her how much I 'fancied' her back —

And from around the corner and down the stairs, Burgham's rough baritone called out, "Leyna! Still a roomful of dinnertables down here! Get your legs closed and mind the customers!"

She tittered and rolled her eyes, then hopped up to grab the chair from its place before the desk.

"Honestly, Simon," she said, it over. "You and your words! Sometimes you don't have to think them through so much, you know."

I shrugged, marveling at the beauty of her smile. She brought the tray of food from the desk and set it on the chair within my reach.

"I'll come back later," she said. "If I'm just being a twit of a twat mooning over you, I'm sure that will give you time to let me know kindly."

"Leyna —"

She leaned and put a finger to my lips, suddenly serious. "If you say anything more, it'll either stick me here and get me in trouble or send me downstairs all a-sniffle. I've waited a whole week not sure you'd wake up at all, Simon. I can wait a bit more."

Then the hand vanished back to her side, gone before the thought occurred to me that I might catch it and kiss the backs of her fingers. She stood, moved to the door, stopped there a moment.

"And once you have a bite of food in you," she said, one eyebrow raised archly, "you'd best get to polishing that knob of yours! I'll be cross as all goodness with you if I come back later and find you've let your dangle-bag burst all over the sheets for me to clean up!"

"Yes ma'am," I said ... at which she smiled, bit her lip hopefully, and closed the door behind her.

* * *

Leyna.

I followed her orders, of course — almost as soon as her footsteps had rounded the bend to the stairs. With the covers thrown off and my naked groin revealed (my pants lay folded on a back corner of the desk), I rubbed precum over my entire shaft, which looked and felt almost dangerously erect.

How the fuck is there so much of this?

But I knew the answer — Eesia's poison had put my glands in overdrive. Just grasping my hard-on sent a hyper-sensitized jolt down to tighten my balls, afloat in the achingly taut scrotum surrounding them. Clear preseminal fluid glided out like I'd pushed the hand-pump on a bottle of lotion. I easily coated my whole dick with it, slicker and smoother and stickier than lotion or lube all at once. It felt

amazing.

Leyna.

My cock surged to the edge of pain. The very thought of her made the my hand around my shaft turn into her pussy, sweet and hot and deep and lusciously wet, settled all the way down to my root and ready to begin fucking me the second I asked. I imagined her eyes — questioning, inviting. I imagined her grin and the giggle it would bring for me to say,

'Anytime you're ready ...'