The Princess And The Barbarian

This is based on 1930s pulp fantasy stories. All the sex is lesbian.

As a warning, it features a fair amount of violence.

The verdant forest continued unbroken as far as the eye could see. Only the distant bay to the north, filled with an ice-bound sea, broke the monotony of the view.

Turning to the mail-shod woman riding beside her, Eyriloe said, "Cannot we take ship? I am raw from all this riding."

The woman, Captain Zufoo, wrapped her red cloak about herself. "We cannot, Princess. If you were to fall into the hands of pirates, or worse, the Frenkosh, we would be undone. It is safer this way, with you disguised as a member of my scouting party. Your mother needs the marriage treaty, and I will see you to your wedding."

Eyriloe sighed, and guided her horse along the track between twisted and deformed trees. "And what of the hill tribes? Might they attack?"

Zufoo shook her head. "A score of armed women without treasure? Why would a godless tribe risk your mother's wrath for that? No, this is the safest and surest way. In five days, we'll be in Eechin. I can have one of my women take a look at your saddle-sores when we camp tonight. Be glad that is the worst danger we face. And your dowry--" Here she drew from her armour a thick gold necklace inlaid with sapphires, "--will be safely delivered, too"

They rode without talking for a while, the only sounds the jingle of harness and tread of their horses. The red-cloaked riders of the guards flitted in and out of the trees surrounding them.

"Captain," said Eyriloe, "Have you ever met Queen Henno?"

Zufoo smirked. "Young brides always worry about who they'll marry. I saw Queen Henno once, years ago, when she came to Wersew as part of a diplomatic mission. She was just a princess in those days. Tall and beautiful, and by repute a mighty warrior."

"But is she kind? Good?"

"She rules her people well, if that's what you mean. As to how she'll treat her future wife, how should I know?"

Eyriloe laughed. "I suppose it was foolish of me to ask for advice on marriage from a military woman."

Zufoo smiled. "I fear you are right. My wife back in..."

Eyriloe looked at her, wondering why she'd stopped speaking. The captain's hands clawed at a thick wooden shaft that jutted from her throat, crimson blood dripping between her fingers, before she slipped from her saddle.

"Ambush!" shouted Eyriloe.

The forest erupted into chaos, as creatures rushed from behind trees, some swooping down from on high on bat wings. They had the form of black apes, shaggy and heavily muscled, with bird-like talons at the end of their stumpy legs. The wickedly-glinting spears they brandished were of wood and iron.

Around Eyriloe, the guards formed up, thrusting and hacking with their swords against this unexpected foe. Eyriloe ducked to avoid the swoop of one creature, slashing up with a sword she hadn't realised she'd drawn. The creature crashed heavily into the undergrowth, and the smell of brimstone filled the air as its obsidian blood oozed down the blade.

Eyriloe's horse reared, and the princess fell, to see one of the creatures slashing her mount's flanks. Landing on her back, Eyriloe thrust into the creature's belly, causing it to stagger as black blood poured down its legs.

Rising, Eyriloe looked about. The battle was going badly; most of the soldiers lay dead or dying on the forest floor, and Eyriloe goggled to see some of the beasts feasting on the fallen women. Those who were not dead were separated, backs to trees, fighting for their lives.

The sound of wind whistling caused Eyriloe to turn, but too late to react. One of the creatures crashed into her, and they tumbled through the long grass to crash into a tree, Eyriloe's sword falling from her grasp. The beast moved fast as a snake, climbing above Eyriloe, its dagger headed for her throat. But the weapon stopped at the last moment, and Eyriloe saw an awful recognition in the sallow yellow eyes that gazed into hers. Somehow the malevolent intelligence that peered through those eyes was at once both obscenely human and terrifyingly alien.

The creature threw back its head and let out a howl which drew the others of its kind to its side. Eyriloe backed against the trunk of the tree and glanced around, seeing that no other humans still moved. Before her gathered the remaining monsters, around a dozen in number. One of them stepped forward, a looped rope in its clawed hands.

As Eyriloe prepared to fight it with her nothing but her teeth and nails, a crashing of branches sounded. Two of the creatures dropped in bloody piles of lifeless flesh, and Eyriloe saw fear on their faces for the first time. Behind them was a new combatant: a tall, muscular woman in just enough furs to cover her decency, moving gracefully among her enemies, her sword a flicker of lightning as here it cleaved through a creature's body, there lopped off one's head. Even the unnatural speed of the beasts was not enough to save them from the shining web of death the woman spun with her blade. She moved through the beasts like a goddess of war, her golden hair streaming, her foes dropping dead at her feet.

Taking her chance, Eyriloe snatched up her sword and thrust it deep into the rope holder's chest. Black blood poured onto Eyriloe's hands, hot and sticky. As the creature slipped down her sword, she saw the last two winged creatures flee, the other woman chasing after them. Her sandal-clad feet spurned the ground beneath them, and with a plunge, she caught a creature in its back as it took flight, her sword standing out a foot from its chest. But the other flapped its wings frantically, rising into the tree cover, then above, shrinking until it was nothing but a dot in the cerulean sky.

The woman cursed and, bracing her foot against her last victim's back, dragged her sword free, swinging the blade to fling the black ichor from it. After wiping the blade on the grass, she began to search through the saddle-bags of some dead horses.

Eyriloe watched her warily, leaning against the tree. When the stranger began to look through the purses of the dead soldiers, Eyriloe called out, "Leave them alone, by Rinete!"

The stranger stood and faced her, smiling. When she spoke, it was with a barbarous accent. "That's a pretty welcome for the woman who saved your life."

Pushing away from the tree, Eyriloe said, "That's no excuse to desecrate the dead."

"I wasn't desecrating them, just relieving them of coins they'll never spend."

"Will you help me bury them?"

The woman shook her head, her wild blonde hair swinging free. "The dead will be as comfortable above the turf as beneath it. You can stay and bury them if your conscience leads you to your own death, but those flying creatures will be back in greater number. I'll not tarry."

"Wait. What were they?"

The blonde prodded one with her sandaled foot. "Creatures of the outer dark, servants of Old Night. Somebody wanted you soldiers dead, because a sorceress tore a hole in the walls of reality to call these things through."

"Sorcery!" Eyriloe laughed. "I am not a child or a hill girl to believe such tales."

A dark look came into the other woman's steel-blue eyes. "You would not laugh so readily if you had seen the things I have seen. But you are young, little older than a child; it is the curse of the young to know everything before they have learned anything." She glanced into the trees. "I cannot stay any longer."

The woman turned to leave, and Eyriloe quailed at the thought of being alone in that ill-fated forest. Alone and lost.

"Wait. I am Loloene, a Lichoen soldier. We were carrying an urgent message to Queen Henno in the city of Eechin in Doytosc." There was no reason to let this stranger know the truth of Eyriloe's identity. "Have you heard of it?"

"Eechin? I once fought in an army to defend the city. Another time I led an army to sack it. I would have succeeded, if -- Iustri, this is no time for chatter." She pointed to the westering sun. "Eechin is five days hard march that way." She moved into the forest, disappearing as silent as a ghost.

"Hold! I can pay you for your help. Pay you well."

She watched the patch of forest where the woman had last been, but the stranger spoke from just behind Eyriloe. How did she move so quietly?

"How much?" said the woman.

Eyriloe turned to face her. "More money that a hill warrior like you has ever seen."

"Fool. I was once an emira in the lands of Ereboe, where the dark-eyed warriors wear silk over steel. There I had more gold than all your petty kingdoms could dream of. But I shall take your message in return for a purse of gold."

"I carry the message in my head. But if you take me to your village--"

"I have no village."

Eyriloe cleaned and sheathed her own sword. "I thought you were from this land."

"No, I am wandering alone."

"Alone? The hill tribes would slit the throat of any lone traveller."

The woman laughed. "The weak warriors of this land cannot slit the throat of Seithrath of the North."

"Why were you crossing this country?"

Seithrath shrugged. "I was in the service of the Tsarina Tetoene of Ryss, when I found I had to leave in a hurry."

"You were one of the tsarina's knights?"

"A mercenary."

"Ah. I am a knight."

Seithrath laughed. "I have seen your knighting ceremonies. A woman kneels like a cur, then another woman touches her shoulders with a sword. In my land, women draw swords for one reason, and it's not to tap another's shoulders."

"So you were a common foot soldier?"

The Northwoman grunted. "The common foot soldiers do the real killing and dying in a war, while you knights apply their perfume and compose sonnets to their lovers. But no, I was no common foot soldier. I was the tsarina's general."

"You? And why did you leave such a prestigious position?"

"The tsarina found me in bed with her wife."

"Her wife!"

"And her daughter."

"After you bedded her wife, why did she let you stay on and seduce her daughter?"

"She didn't. When I say she found me in bed with both of them, I mean at the same time. So I rode three horses to death fleeing that land, a headswoman's bloody axe waiting for me if I am caught. Now I will lose my pursuers in this godless forest."

Eyriloe pointed into the trees. "I saw a couple of horses run off that way. We could ride them."

Seithrath shook her head. "We leave the road. We'll travel faster by foot. The horses would be easier to track or spot. We'll keep to the south, where there are fewer villages. But not too far south; I am loathe to return to the spider-haunted forests."

Eyriloe looked down at her light cavalry boots. "I can't walk that far."

Seithrath laughed. "You can and you will. You'll get blisters on your feet instead of your civilised rump."

Her eyes travelled up and down Eyriloe's body, judging her worth as a warrior. And she saw more than just a warrior, if Eyriloe judged the desire in those icy eyes aright. Eyriloe blushed, for she was unused to seeing such blatant lust directed at her. What would it be like to lie in this barbarian's arms? But she squared her shoulders with a haughty gesture. She was a

princess

, on her way to marry a queen and give her her maidenhood. Even talking to an outlaw like Seithrath was beneath her.

"Very well, we will walk. You will guide me to Eechin for a purse of gold coins."

Spotting Zufoo's body, Eyriloe searched it for the necklace, but it was gone. She cast looks about, but couldn't see it glittering.

Seithrath stepped up to her, her mighty frame towering over Eyriloe's. Gripping Eyriloe's shoulder, she pulled hard, and with a great rip the princess's cloak tore, to fall to the leafy forest floor.

Seithrath nodded in satisfaction at what she'd done. "That red is too easy to see from afar. Will you take your armour off too? It's too shiny and noisy."

"No; I am a knight of Lichoe. My battle sisters lie dead on this field, but on my honour, I shall not abandon my armour."

Seithrath grumbled and strode away. "Keep up, girl."

⚔️

The pair trudged for the remainder of the day, Seithrath leading a trail through the deepest part of the forest, which she claimed would be both hard to follow and avoided any villages. Though Eyriloe tried to talk, the barbarian spared her no more than a few words. Despite her aching feet, Eyriloe pushed on, determined to keep up with Seithrath's iron stamina. The princess shivered in the bitter wind despite all her clothes; how the barbarian seemed unaffected with so much bare skin was a mystery.

Twice they saw the flying creatures that had ambushed Eyriloe; twice they hid from them in the trees. Eyriloe was glad Seithrath had insisted on leaving the track.

With Seithrath leading the way, Eyriloe often found her gaze straying to the barbarian's muscular bottom. Then looking away; such a woman was unworthy of a princess's attention. But her eyes were not as arrogant as her will, and eventually they would drift back to rest on the wonderful sight that tempted her with each powerful step.

As dusk drew in, Eyriloe called for a halt; she could no longer see as far as the nearest tree.

Seithrath laughed. "There is enough light to walk for at least another three turns of the glass. But as you wish. Light a fire, and I will gather food."

Exhausted, Eyriloe said, "Why don't you light the fire while I get dinner?"

Seithrath put her hands on her hips. "Would you know what to eat, or how to gather it?" To Eyriloe's headshake, she added, "You are as a baby in these woods. Light the fire, but keep it small. The light will draw things we don't want to meet."

With that she slipped into the night, her footfalls silent. Eyriloe sighed and gathered twigs, with which she lit a flame from her tinderbox. A distant howl caused her to spin about; was Seithrath serious about the creatures out there?

Her hand drifted unbidden to her sword hilt, but it was Seithrath who entered the small clearing, throwing two dead rabbits to the ground.

"Cook those, and fast. We sleep soon, then leave at first light." She looked behind her, as though staring through the trees. "Something watches us. I feel it."

⚔️

Eyriloe was embarrassed that she needed help from Seithrath to skin and gut the rabbits. Life in a palace hadn't prepared her for a rough life. She expected the meal to be bland compared to her usual fare, especially without any seasoning, so she was surprised at how good the succulent meat tasted, its hot juices dripping down her chin.

Opposite her, Seithrath lounged against a tree, tearing chunks from her rabbit with her teeth. She seemed as one with the primeval wilderness that surrounded them. And despite some scars from old battles, there was something beautiful about her; not pretty like a young woman, but a robust, confidant attractiveness.

Attractive to some women

. A princess would never feel desire for a low-born barbarian.

Eyriloe said, "You've seen those flying creatures before?"

"Once, in distant Nyboe, where the war drums beat through the steamy jungle nights. I was young then, younger than you are now. The witch-queen of that realm summoned the beasts to destroy a rival claimant to the throne and her army."

"What happened."

"After the war, the creatures remained. They kept arriving, preying on the local farmers."

"You killed them easily today."

"I had the advantage of surprise. And there were only a few, not the hundreds that plagued that far land. Only one thing could close the gateway to the benighted hell that spawned them."

"What was that?"

"The death of the summoner." A far-away look came into Seithrath's eyes. "I throttled her in our bed."

They slept on the long grass with no cover. Eyriloe was glad of Seithrath's closeness; her shadowy fears dissipated in the light of the barbarian's presence.

⚔️

The second day was harder, with freezing rain sluicing through the trees. Eyriloe's smooth-soled cavalry boots slid on the muddy sward, until Seithrath demanded she throw them away. It felt strange to walk in bare feet, but there was no denying she made better progress, and it wasn't long before she learnt to ignore the icy mud squeezing between her toes. There were more of the flying creatures in the skies, but again the pair remained hidden.

Around noon they came upon a huge, empty structure of a rough stone that Eyriloe couldn't recognise. Eyriloe would have walked past it, so overrun was it by the forest, but Seithrath's keen eyes found it. They sheltered from the rain for a few moments while Seithrath whittled a spear from an oak branch.

"What manner of building is this?" said Eyriloe. "It's bigger than any palace I've ever seen."

Seithrath looked around it. "I have seen these in forgotten places throughout the world. Wise women say they were built by men."

"Men?"

The barbarian cast an eye to the tumultuous sky. "You're aware that amongst animals there are both males and females?"

"Of course."

"Some believe that humans were once like that."

"Male humans? You must be joking."

"There are tales. People say they looked like women, but taller and stronger, with hair on their faces and chests."

"I once saw a creature in the royal menagerie in Wersew, an ape from the southlands. It walked on two legs like a woman, but was bigger, with hair over its whole body. Was that a -- what did you call them?"

"A man. I've seen apes such as those, and slain a few. They are not men. I think men are just an old legend passed around campfires by bored women. But an ancient civilisation raised this building, and if it was not humans, then who?"

"They must be all dead by now, whoever they were."

Seithrath loosed her sword in its scabbard. "Perhaps. But some evils lie unquiet in their graves, waiting for a foolish woman to rouse them once more."

⚔️

On they pressed, under the leaden sky. Eyriloe's calves and feet hurt from so much walking, but again they made good progress. Late in the day, they came to a fast-flowing stream which had burst its banks under the heavy rains. It was now yards wide. Seithrath skipped across, from half-submerged stone to mud-slick bank, as easily as Eyriloe would traverse a ballroom on a suitor's perfumed arm.

But when Eyriloe attempted to cross, her foot slipped on the uncertain ground, and she fell into the stream, her iron armour dragging her to the stream bottom. Clinging to a large rock, she fought desperately to raise her head above the water, to suck air into her needy lungs, but the weight of fast flowing water held her down.

A terrific pull on her armour hauled her clear of the water, and she was placed on a nearby rock, grasping wildly to its slick sides. Beside her stood Seithrath. How the woman had the strength to lift Eyriloe was a mystery.

But Seithrath's attention was elsewhere. Eyriloe couldn't see what she was looking at, back along the trail they'd followed, but her attention was rapt. A deep, guttural growl from the undergrowth told Eyriloe they were not alone.

With a scream, Seithrath cast her spear with all the strength of her mighty frame. At the same time, a vast bulk leapt out of hiding, hurtling toward the two women. It would have landed on them if it wasn't for the spear, which embedded itself in the creature and caused it to fall a yard short. Eyriloe got an impression of a malign feline intelligence glaring from green eyes, and ivory fangs a hands-breadth long, before Seithrath threw herself bodily at the thing, her sword flashing brutally downwards. The creature she fought was an immense yellow hunting cat, as huge as a horse, and Seithrath barely avoided the knife-like claws that sought to disembowel her.

Eyriloe struggled to rise and help, but her heavy armour held her down, tired as she was after her struggle with the stream. She drew her knife and sawed at the leather clasps on her mail with cold-numbed fingers, hearing the wild roaring of the beast over the tumultuous crashing of the stream. How long could Seithrath stand alone against that monster? Finally, the armour slipped from her shoulders to slide under the water, and Eyriloe rose, wearing nothing but her soaked cotton underclothes.