A Tale from the Erotic Adventures of Solomon Magus
CHAPTER ONE
"Morgane---wake up! I believe we might be in trouble..."
Even as I shook Morgane the Strong's powerful shoulder to awaken her from sleep, the tall warrior woman's fingers instinctively wrapped themselves around the handle of a longsword that lay on the ground beside her. Like a sleek panther, her muscular body in one smooth motion rose to stand beside me. Well over six feet, Morgane was a good three inches taller than I, but I liked it that way. We'd been together for almost a year now, adventuring with a party that included an elf, a bard and a dwarf; but now, for a time at least, we'd decided to travel the land of Darkwood to see what treasures and adventures we could find.
"What is it?" she asked as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes with her free hand.
But I did not have to elaborate any further. Already she had noticed the band of thirteen or so brigands who had apparently surrounded us as we slept in the heat of the afternoon. We did not think any danger would be even close to approaching us. The territory we were in was relatively free of monsters.
But, apparently, not humans.
Readying her blade, Morgane narrowed her eyes to slits and hissed through her teeth as a warning to the scruffy-looking pirates around us.
But they made no indication that they were going to attack. Even so, I was already preparing a spell to help even the odds if they did, although I was quite sure that Morgane would have been able to handle them all by herself. She was gentle and warm in bed, but a strong and formidable opponent in battle.
"What do you want?" she called out.
None of the men answered. Instead, two of them parted slightly to allow a tall, lithe woman to pass. Even with the patch over her left eye, she was quite attractive. In contrast to Morgane's animal-skin garments, the other woman wore a white blouse with large puffy sleeves, skintight black pants and boots, and carried at least two or three pounds of jewelry in the form of necklaces, rings, brooches and belts. From her side hung a cutlass that, judging from the look of the woman, had seen many a victim's blood along its blade.
"You're strangers in Darkwood," she observed, more a comment than a question.
Morgane nodded. She introduced herself and me, telling the woman of our intentions of finding adventure. But she said nothing of locating treasure, something which all of the pirates before us were probably very keen on getting---at any cost. By the same token, I could almost see Morgane's eyes focusing on the jewelry the pirate woman wore.
"I am called Urika the Corsair," announced the woman, "and these are my men." She waved at the unsavory lot of characters around us and I could tell she was fully in control of them. "Perhaps you would be interested in working for me, too...?"
By now, Urika had ventured close enough for me to catch a whiff of her personal smell which, although it should have stunk as I'm sure the men did, was delightful of scent---reminding me of the fruit of the Blessed Isles.
"...or, at least let us discuss it over dinner in my tent."
"That we will most gladly do," replied Morgane, always one with a good and hungry appetite.
"Then, follow me."
CHAPTER TWO
Oddly enough, it seems that Morgane and I would have inevitably run into Urika's encampment later that day as it was on the route we were taking through Darkwood.
There were five tents altogether and I assumed correctly that Urika dwelt in the one from which hung several brightly-colored flags, apparently stolen, I was later to find out, from some passing caravans.
Once inside, I marveled at the beauty with which the corsair had obviously arranged everything---hanging silks, cushions, braziers, and several small tables. In spite of the fact that she was a pirate, Urika certainly had an eye for decorating.
A light incense wafted through the air and that, plus a hole in the top of the cone-shaped tent, helped dispel the smoke that rose from the burning lamps which helped give a soft light about the place.
It was warm and cozy to be sure.
Urika motioned for us to be seated.
Several moments later, one of Urika's men entered with a sumptuous-looking plate of rare delectables---roasted mountain lizard surrounded by dozens of pan-fried scarlet horned beetles.
The latter, I was quite sure, was not only a delicacy and hard to be obtained in these parts, but, if my memory served me right, was also an aphrodisiac. But of this fact, I was not sure.
"What type of work might you be offering us?" inquired Morgane, always one to ponder on the more mundane aspects of life and thinking, no doubt, about the gold she might be able to earn for her own pocket.
As the man left, Urika handed the warrior woman and me each a goblet of wine. I sniffed it, tasted it slightly, and recognized it as being an apparent selection from the southern vineyards of Valedon.
"First you must help yourself to these victuals. To refuse would do me a great dishonor. Marduk has prepared them with great care. I'm sure you'll find them to your liking and quite liberating to the palate."
Our hostess was indeed a well-spoken and literate woman.
Morgane merely shrugged and grabbed several beetles. I heard the crunch of them between her teeth. Then, never one to bother with table etiquette, she yanked out her knife and sliced off a piece of lizard. It followed the beetles into her mouth. She wiped the resulting juices from her lips with the back of her hand.
Being somewhat more refined, I sampled the lizard first, savouring its delicate taste---for I had not had such meat in a long time---then followed it with several beetles which, although the sound of them could grate on the nerves after awhile, nevertheless had a marvelous sweet-and-sour taste.
"So--the work?" My darling Morgane---such a one-track mind! I shook my head in amusement.
Urika scrunched a beetle, glanced up and down the warrior woman. "Tell me--where did you get such a wonderfully-built body?"
It seemed a rather abrupt change of subject matter, and a very blunt question, but I had noticed Urika had been admiring Morgane's body for some time. It is not uncommon for men to remark on its graceful bulk, but for a woman to say something is quite rare.
"Grew up on a farm," replied Morgane. "When my parents were killed by outlaws, I joined a band of Amazons and they taught me the ways of war." She stuffed another slice of lizard, another beetle into her mouth. "I muffed ebryding aboud dem," she went on.
Urika cracked a smiled and frowned. "I beg your pardon?"
Morgane swallowed, and then shoved a finger in her mouth to dislodge a beetle leg stuck between her teeth. "Sorry. I said I loved everything about them---the Amazons. Their training, their hunting, their way of life. I misses it sometimes; it'd be nice to go back for awhile."
"I thought they hated men," noted Urika with a slight smile and a sideways glance at me.
Morgane caught the look and grinned at me. She patted my hand and said, "Ah, yes. But Solomon is special to me, aren't you, my dear? After all, I am not totally Amazonian in my ways." She winked at me and I smiled back. She certainly was not.
"Is it true the Amazon women make love to each other?" inquired the corsair.
"Of course. But when it came time to renew the tribe, it was necessary for them to mate with willing males in order for them to become impregnated with child. Baby girls were kept and reared as warriors. Baby boys were tossed aside to die, or some were kept as slaves---but with their legs broken---or else they were given back to their fathers, if they were known."
"Seems rather barbaric to me," observed Urika.
"Only doing what they deemed necessary."
"And you---" continued Urika. "Did you make love to other Amazons?"
"Of course," said Morgane off-handedly. "It was that, or else one sought self-satisfaction in other ways."
