The Ring Of Perliss Ch 05 Sungold

I dream of a man, tall and handsome, bright blue eyes and short, golden-blond hair. A pale-skinned northerner with wiry strength. He looks human, but is not. Mystical symbols swirl about him as if he is a god, but he is not a god. I do not know what he is, but he looks human, and has a sungold cock.

A young woman is with him, naked on her knees, her lips wrapped adoringly about the golden cock. I cannot see her face, curtained as it is by long waves of red hair, but her lustful moans are testament to her enjoyment of this act. They are alone at the cliff edge, the great sea beyond them, the setting sun dazzling above the horizon.

It is Uxur's sungold cock, the twin of Ulaxr's moonsilver cock that had been the source of Hanwe's power as the Black Queen. Dar-Gratt, the long dead king of the Atteyni was the one who stole Uxur's cock, and he guarded it even in death. Zar had discovered that the hard way.

A wizard had taken it next, Zar said. A tall, pale-skinned northerner. "Katarra," I whisper.

Katarra looks at me. "That's an old spell," he says, "for so young a mouth. If it's gold you're after" - he tugs the woman's head away so that I can see his mesmerising cock in all its glory - "I'll give you a taste in Alba."

He roars with laughter, and with a wave of his hand I am sent screaming -

-ke up, Lia!" A slap across the cheeks brought me fully back to myself.

"I'm awake!" I cried, holding up my arms in defence. "I'm awake."

"You were screaming," Hanwe explained. "I couldn't wake you." I couldn't tell whether she was angry or concerned.

"I wasn't sleeping," I said. "It was a divination." The day had been hot and we'd walked far and fast, the road winding through the endless hills. Late afternoon we'd found a good place to camp for the night, and had chosen to relax and enjoy the setting and the sun. When Hanwe had fallen asleep, I had reached for my spell book, and found myself curious about 'sun-cock's lechery'.

If she hadn't been angry before, she was now. "You are too reckless with your magic."

Perhaps, but the only way to learn was by doing. Even with Old Mother Baria I had had to learn by doing, though the old witch had been there to save me from my many mistakes. In learning swordplay, I had Hanwe herself to teach me, but there was no one to teach me magic. All I had was instincts and an ancient spell book.

"I saw Katarra," I said. "The wizard Zar met who took Uxur's sungold cock."

"Was he surrounded by adoring women? All begging for a taste of it?"

"Just one." I wasn't about to admit he'd offered me a taste, or that the idea of it excited me. "He sensed me watching him," I said instead. "I think he knows we are heading for Alba. I think he is going there too."

"Great," Hanwe muttered sarcastically. "First witches, now wizards. Give me an honest sword fight any day." She stood and stretched. "Come on," she said, and reached for the Dawn Blade.

Five times a day we did this. No actual touching of blades, just a balletic dance of steel and silver that demanded balance and taught precision. I might still be useless in an actual fight, but I could at least swing my sword like I knew what it was for.

*

While exploring the market in Benatek and trading medicines for ingredients, a book had caught my eye. My uncle had collected many books, many of which I had enjoyed reading - or at least looking through, since the illustrations of far-off places and legendary adventurers had always fired up my imagination.

In Benatek I had hoped to find books of witchcraft, but had found none of interest. At least none that I could afford. Books of spells, if they are any good, are valued heirlooms, treasured by some and feared by others. Simple spells for starting a fire or healing a bruise or bringing light to darkness were common enough and easy to find, though to my eyes the methods were clumsy and the words dangerously imprecise.

What I did find, however, was an intriguing little book called

Children of the Gods

. "Travellers from Saruz have many heroic traditions," I read aloud, Hanwe beside me. "One would think, listening to them at the fireside, that every king and queen of ancient Saruz was a child of Veshla or the Twins. The tale that always fascinated me, however, was that of Queen Perliss.

"Saruz in those days was a much smaller city, and commanded trade routes north to Paraldiar and Rathwir, and of course the ancient road running west between Gorten and the Iskreti. South of the Rush estuary was Saruz's great rival, Harruske, and it was Perliss who brought both cities to their knees and unified them at the heart of her empire. Perliss was both conqueror and the rightful heir to Saruz's throne, and though her empire did not last, it brought great and lasting prosperity to the city.

"Even today she is remembered with pride. 'A daughter of Minarwe', they call her, and by all accounts she was beautiful. So beautiful, indeed, that she caught the eye of Derushil, the Divine Smith, who forged a ring for her that she might stay beautiful forever. Those who wander the desert paths say she lives there still, an oasis of beauty immortal, but in all my searching I found none who would take me to her.

"In Saruz I visited the temples of Minarwe and Veshla, hoping to learn more of Perliss as a child of a goddess. To my surprise, the priestesses of both denied any such divine parentage. When with charm and a suitable donation I encouraged them to say more, I was startled to find they viewed Perliss as a traitor who had defied the gods. This seeming contradiction bothered me for years, until stumbling upon an old history of Saruz that elaborated: 'The regent, Garraliske, spread rumours that the Adventuring Princess had been conceived in Minarwe's temple, thereby casting her in an ill light and the people of Saruz demanded the throne should pass to the younger sister. When Perliss returned with an army, Lady Veshla at her side, a new rumour spread through the city that Perliss was Minarwe's child.'

"And thus I am sad to say that Perliss was not a Child of the Gods, but in seeking the truth of Perliss I learned much about Dar-Gratt, King of the Atteyni, who defeated her armies in the west. A man who, without question,

was

a Child of the Gods."

*

Five days north from Fandralko, we came to Crossroads. We had followed the road north from Benatek as it wound through the hills, passing wagon trains in both directions and asking for news, stopping at the small villages that served as staging posts, but heard no rumours of witches or witchcraft. The weather was pleasant throughout, our lovemaking was sweet and tender, and I was slowly growing more confident and precise with my sword - not in fighting with it, but in understanding its weight and reach, and how to balance myself while swinging it about.

We topped a rise in the road, and looked down on the broad valley of the River Cyun. There, with an ancient stone bridge at its heart, was the town of Crossroads. "See there the road following the river," Hanwe said, "from Rathwir in the east to the sea in the west." The sea was too far away to be seen, but the high forests and hills of Rathwir had been creeping closer as we progressed northwards.

Hanwe pointed ahead of us, to the north. "Do you see the mountains?" I nodded. "The road we're on stays east of the mountains. The way gets dangerous at night, for there are pixies in the plains and satyrs in the woods, and worse too. The cities there have high walls, and the villages have palisades, and they are suspicious of strangers. Follow this road far enough, and you will come even to the Maze that few dare enter and fewer escape."

"And none that are human," I added, remembering what I had read of that monstrous place.

"Only one, perhaps," she said quietly. "It is in the Maze that I sought the Unsleeping Eye of the North. The source of Tordunh's river is in the heart of the Maze, and there is a high tower overlooking its labyrinthine ways. I had read in ancient texts that the gods had placed the Unsleeping Eye to keep a watch over the monsters. I was young and fearless, armed with Oehr's bow and Ulaxr's silver cock. The Maze did not frighten me."

Hanwe laughed at the naive folly of her own youth. "The magic in that place is bewildering. Once you lose sight of the outer wall, it is easy to get lost. Walking atop the walls is not without danger either, for there are strange monsters even there. I entered the Maze with three brave companions, and was forced to abandon them all. By luck more than skill I made it to the tower and found there the Eye, and without the Eye I could not have made it safely to the gate again."

"You abandoned them?" I tried to keep any hint of judgement or fear from my voice. What if one day Hanwe felt the need to abandon me?

"You can't save people who don't want to be saved," she said. "One man I tore from a flower's embrace, and the moment I took my eyes off him he ran back to it. The other had his cock swallowed by a most unnatural serpent, and when I decapitated the creature, he ran screaming deep into the Maze while the tail of the snake slithered away. When I found him later, he was sitting in a daze, moaning with pleasure as he stroked his cock that had transformed into a writhing serpent like the first. And Jen..."

Hanwe sighed sadly. "Jen was my lover. Perhaps we were even in love, but I was too focused on my own needs to allow such distraction." She gave a bitter laugh. "Jen fell into a crack in the wall. There were hands in there, touching her everywhere, and at first her screams were pure terror. We fought to free her from their clutches, while her screams gave way to gasps of horrified pleasure. Her struggling had turned to orgasmic convulsions by the time we succeeded. Her clothes had been shredded and her legs were slick with a foul-smelling cum, with still more leaking from her cunt and ass. Thereafter, it was a struggle to keep her away from other cracks, and eventually she found a crack so deep she disappeared inside the wall completely. I couldn't see her. I could only hear her faint cries of ecstasy."

Hanwe's distress at this memory was clear in her expression. "I'm sorry," I said.

She was too lost in thought to react. "There are many stories about the Maze," she said eventually. "Some say it was made to contain all the monsters of the world, but the first humans ignored the warnings of the gods and opened the gate. That's why the cities still send men out there to repair the walls. There are some, though, who say the Maze was made to keep the monsters out, and that a garden exists at its heart where humans have lived since the beginning. That no one who leaves the garden can ever return."

"What do you believe?" I asked.

"That the truth will never be known," she said with a smile. "There was an inscription in that high tower. I made a copy of it and asked scholars, years later, what the writing said. Their translation made no sense at all: 'Here is ice made in the desert.'"

The words struck a strange chord with me. I opened my spell book and rifled through the pages. There was still much that I did not understand, but I had read those words before, or something similar. "Here," I said. "One cannot create heat, nor destroy it. To make ice in the desert is to both deny the sun and do its work."

Hanwe gave me a bemused look. "And what does any of that mean?"

"That you can only make ice in the desert by making the rest of the desert hotter."

"What does that have to do with the Maze?"

I shrugged. "Maybe if magic is like heat, then making a place without magic is only possible by increasing the magic outside. If so, there is ice in the heart of the Maze, and we live out here in the desert."

*

Tensions were high in Crossroads. Though everyday business was being conducted wherever we saw, with queues at the baker's and the butcher's, the sound of the anvil ringing out from the blacksmith's, a wagon train arriving from the east as we entered the town from the south, more horses being stabled at the inn where we asked for a room, we saw many scowling faces and overheard angry conversations.

"A dreadful occurrence," the innkeeper explained when we asked. "A strange madness. Three of our guests last night. Two of Haly's next door. Four of our own young men, including Jonka who was to get married tomorrow. Utterly mad. Attacking women in the most despicable way." He shuddered. "Three were killed by the guardsmen, two were strung up by the townspeople. Jonka and the others were thrown in a cell, but there's many that say they should be strung up too."

"Witches," I said to Hanwe. "Again nine men. There must be some significance to the number."

"Witches?" the innkeeper queried.

"Same thing happened in Fandralko a few days ago," I said. "I may be able to help."

"Do I need to string you up in the stable again?" Hanwe asked with a definite tone of irritation.

"Not unless you want to," I said with a smirk. "Otherwise, I just need an oak fire at dawn and some loving fingers by moonlight."

"An oak fire I can do," the innkeeper said.

"And I have the other," Hanwe said, looking abruptly happier.

In the privacy of our small room, I knelt naked on the bed, the jar of asparagus cream open and held between my thighs. "I much prefer this magic," Hanwe murmured between kisses, her fingers brushing my clit. "How much do we need?"

"As much as possible," I said, my hips thrusting restlessly against her fingers. Hanwe's expertise with her fingers matched her expertise with the sword. She could hold me at the precipice until I wanted to scream with frustration, and she could force orgasms from me when I was sure she had drained me already.

"You may regret saying that," she whispered, circling my clit with a precise and delicate fingertip.

"I hope so."

"I thought you'd leap at the chance to get your ass fucked again."

"Hmm." I pushed back impatiently against her teasing fingertip. "Maybe I should do that."

"No. You're mine now." Her teeth brushed against my neck as two fingertips rubbed back and forth across my clit. The tension in me built rapidly in response. "Come for me, slut," she growled into my ear, and with an involuntary cry I did, convulsing in delicious relief as she held me. She pushed a wet finger into my mouth and I sucked hungrily on it. "You're wet, slut," she said, "but I know you can do better. Do I need to tie you up and spank you?"

Hanwe had spanked me in the temple in Benatek. She had tied me up in the stable in Fandralko. She knew exactly how much I had enjoyed both those occasions. "It's not strictly necessary," I said.

"Oh, I think it is," she said, taking a leather strap from her backpack and binding my wrists behind me. "You don't need your hands for this part of the spell, do you?"

I didn't need my hands, but Hanwe was neither tentative nor gentle with hers. Just because I had inherited the body of a warrior queen did not make the smack of her hand against my bare cheeks and thighs easy to endure.

"Ai!" I cried for the tenth time in quick succession, my cheeks roasting from the assault.

"Are you wet yet, slut?" she said, driving two fingers into my cunt with such ease that I knew I was. She fucked me roughly with her fingers, brushing against that spot within me that was responsible for my deepest, wettest orgasms. "A little," she allowed, "but I want to see it dripping from you." And again her hand descended, more painfully than ever.

This punishment got me thinking about the men. Not just those in Crossroads, but those in Fandralko too. What they had done was terrible. It didn't matter - or it did, but not enough - that they had not been in control of themselves. The causal magic was invisible and people needed someone to blame. The witches were long gone, and gone before their maddened victims had gone chasing after cunt.

Women had been brutally hurt. Families were raging. People were demanding justice, and wanting worse. The men themselves, once cured, craved punishment for the havoc they had caused. And maybe there was a better way to provide that punishment than by keeping them in cells or stringing them up.

All this flitted haphazardly through my thoughts in between strikes of Hanwe's hand. "Let's see if you're wet," she growled, and slowly forced her whole, cruel hand into my cunt.

My clit was throbbing madly, aching to be touched, but my wrists were still bound behind my back. I was completely at her mercy. "Please," I begged. "Make me come."

"Quiet!" Hanwe ordered, and smacked me again, before returning to fucking me with her fingers, her other hand reaching to pinch my nipple hard enough to force a cry of protest from me.

She knew me so well though. The pressure within built swiftly, and my climax was sudden and uncontrolled. Fluid burst out from my cunt around her hand, and I hoped the jar was positioned well as I convulsed, waves of blissful release echoing through my flesh as I contracted about her fingers.

And just as I thought I was done, she attacked my clit with relentless speed, forcing another climax from me more intense than the last, and it left my whole bodying quivering with echoes of that brutal pleasure. "Enough," I begged. "Enough."

"We've barely started," she said calmly, and I screamed as her hand descended again on my too sensitive flesh.

*

"Dar-Gratt was the son of Dar-Karal, Queen of the Atteyni." Though Hanwe slept, I read aloud, softly. My body was in a blended state of physical exhaustion and post-orgasmic euphoria. Also, I was so sore from her spanking that finding a position to sleep in was proving impossible. "The Atteyni were a proud and nomadic people who hunted the plains and hills east of the Iskreti. Though they worshipped the Six as all good people do, Lord Uxur was honoured foremost.

"It is said that Lord Uxur had a particular affection for Dar-Karal, that he loved her wild passion and her heroism in battle. It is said too that Lord Uxur's sungold cock was often between Dar-Karal's parted thighs, and that her cries of ecstasy could be heard through the night.

"Dar-Gratt was born of their union. He had his mother's wild passion and his father's golden beauty. As a hunter he was swift and sure, and as a warrior he was ruthless. When the army of Queen Perliss marched in the east, Dar-Karal met her in battle, and it is said that when Uxur's burning sword clashed with Veshla's iron shield, the ground itself tore beneath them.

"Dar-Karal died in that battle and the Atteyni were scattered, but Dar-Gratt survived. Blaming Uxur for the death of his mother, he sought help instead from the Paraldian witches, who foresaw victory for him against Perliss with the Dawn Blade in his hand.

"Little is known about that mythical blade or Dar-Gratt's quest for it, but it was indeed with the Dawn Blade in hand that he led a new army of the Atteyni against Perliss and forced her to retreat. It is said that no armour can shield against a blow from that blade, and that even the gods stand in awe of its power, but how much of this is true cannot be determined, for the Dawn Blade was buried with Dar-Gratt in Tanarwel and none yet has penetrated to the heart of those ruins."

Until Zar and Katarra, that is, and Hanwe now wielded that deadly blade.

*

Four men in one cell, their wrists chained to the wall above their heads, their cocks exposed and weeping cum, their balls swollen. Just like in Fandralko. I pitied them, for what I was about to do.

"What do you want here?" the guard growled. "Come to gawk at some hard cocks?"

The sun was rising and the town was awake, many gathering outside and some demanding the four men be hanged for their crimes. "I come with a cure," I said. "The only cure for the foul witchcraft that afflicts them."

"A cure?" he sneered. "The only cure for them is a rope."