John's on the road, complete with a new quest and a new person to share that quest. Of course even quests need a break for wine, food, and... entertainment.
John sat up in his wagon and looked around. He rolled his head and stretched and then glanced down. He shook his head and sighed before tugging his robe down. John rolled up his bedroll and climbed down from the wagon.
Artesia was brushing John's gelding. She looked over at him and looked away quickly. John caught the blush on her cheeks.
He noticed Zynga sitting on the driver's bench of the wagon. She looked at him and winked. John sighed. "That's a new level of petty, you know."
Zynga made a rude noise and waved his accusation away. "Your new girl wanted to know how big your cock is."
"I doubt it. In fact, that's probably the last thing she wanted to know."
"Please, all women want to know. They've just learned they can't admit to it in the twisted societies around here," she argued.
John shook his head and turned to Artesia.
"Oh, Master?" Zynga called. After John stopped she said, "You were delicious last night."
John closed his eyes for a moment and took a breath to help him relax. He moved on, heading to Artesia and the horse. "Sorry about... whatever she did last night."
Artesia choked and nodded. She cleared her throat and patted the horse on the shoulder. "I, um, I think he's ready. I'll get him harnessed. Zynga said we'd be moving out right away?"
John nodded. "Dilly. Ever heard of it?"
Artesia nodded. "They brew a popular ale there. Not much more than flavored water, but they like it."
John watched her lead the horse over to the wagon. He studied her as she moved, admiring her athletic build and wishing her leathers were tighter and more revealing. John shook his head to chase the thoughts away. She was his servant now, he had a responsibility to protect her, not to threaten her with his promiscuity.
Zynga was scowling when he glanced her way.
Once Artesia had harnessed the horse she climbed up into the wagon and waited for John to join her. The three of them in the front bench was a little snug and Artesia blushed again at the close quarters.
"How far is Dilly?" John asked to try and work through the awkwardness.
"A week at least, perhaps more if the roads are bad," Artesia said.
John nodded. "Then let's be off, I'm looking for someone."
"John's eager to prove his loyalty to Mistress," Zynga said as Artesia worked the reigns and got the powerful horse moving.
John leaned forward to glare at the imp. "I am loyal to her," he said. "Last night was a misunderstanding that won't happen again now that I know better."
Artesia's eyes widened.
"Oh, don't worry, dear, that happens quite often," Zynga said with a cackle. "He's talking about something else."
"You..." Artesia clamped her mouth shut and shook her head. "Sorry, my lord, none of my business."
John didn't need to look to know Zynga was grinning. He could feel it through their bond— a bond made stronger by her feeding from his cum that Mistress had violently forced out of him as their communion ended the night before.
John grunted and let Artesia guide the wagon back toward the road. Half an hour or so later they were making better time as she brushed off the rust on her wagon-driving skills and gained confidence.
"You're doing good, Artesia," John said after they passed the first rancher leading a group of cows to the south. "I'm going to sit in the back."
"Too cramped?" Zynga teased.
"I'm not going to pass up this opportunity to study," John said. "I've much I need to re-learn...or perhaps learn for the first time. I can't remember."
"I know the way to Dilly," Artesia said, helping him put an end to the discussion.
John rose and turned to climb over the back of the seat and into the wagon. He plucked his pillow from his bedroll and sat it against the side of the wagon before unlocking his chest and pulling out the first two tomes he'd recovered from Billie. They were far from proper treatises on magic, but any wizard's spell books had numerous notes and processes written out as the wizard perfected his understanding of how they could get the spells to work best, if at all.
Join lowered the lid and closed the latch on it and then froze as a strange sensation filled him. It was familiarity. Not that he'd done this recently, but countless times.
John's eyes narrowed. There was something... some image. A memory that just slipped out of his reach. A chest, like this but fancier and made from a different materials. Expensive materials... but he wasn't sure what they were.
John shook his head and sighed. The image was gone. All that remained was knowing that he'd had an important chest before. A chest that stored a great many things of value to him. Now all he could remember of it was a picture in his mind. A picture of a bone white toy sized chest.
He sighed and set the thought aside. He had studying to do. He opened the first of the books and carefully moved past the hundred plus year old pages until he found the next spell he'd been struggling to understand. With it he believed he could call upon a fire and reshape it to his will. That or smother it into nothing.
John's study took him through the day and it wasn't until the sun was dropping in the west that he felt he'd understood it well enough and memorized the intricacies of the spell form that he could being experimenting. His stomach rumbled, remind him he hadn't eaten all day. His magic hungered too, a low buzz deep in his belly that would grow more and more insistent the longer he denied it.
John put his books away and looked around, noticing the road had grown more crowded and their progress slower. A city was ahead, a large one this time. Beyond it was the ocean. The same ocean he'd sailed on the Red Witch, although he was further north now.
"I sailed a ship on those waters not long ago," John said as he climbed back onto the bench and sat beside Artesia.
"I've never been on a ship," she said. "I can't swim."
"Neither can many sailors," he said. "They'd never admit that though."
"How can—" she cut herself off and shook her head. "I'm sorry, my lord, I forget the world's not meant to be fair nor make sense."
John chuckled. "It seems that way, doesn't it? You do know I'm not a lord, right?"
She shrugged. "Land owner or not, you're my lord until you're done with me."
"Fair enough, I suppose. My time on a ship was enough. I think I'm done with sailing. For a while, at least."
"I've always been curious," she admitted. "I've heard tales that if one sailed far enough north there were jagged islands circling a great geyser that sprays boiling water hundreds of feet in the air like a swimming dragon. When it wasn't spewing the water a whirlpool formed, drawing the sea into the bowels of the earth. Or maybe the belly of the dragon?"
John chuckled. "I'm sure it's no dragon, but it sounds like there's something amazing at play."
The line of people slowed, forcing Artesia to slow the horse while she craned her neck to see ahead.
"Soldiers," John said as he caught sight of them moving along the line and checking things. They wore the livery of Khalas, the city they sought to enter.
"We could go around," Artesia offered. "You seek Dilly, not Khalas. Three more days will put us at Meelak, then another two days to Carvin."
"I've always wanted to visit Meelak," Zynga said. "Wasn't it the first city to rebel against the king? Miners made a deal with some dwarves to grant their guild access to the mines in return for supporting their claim to freedom?"
Artesia and John both looked at the halfling. "Sounds like you know more than we do," John said.
Artesia nodded. "I... maybe. They've got a fair number of dwarves."
"And Carvin has elves," Zynga said. She cackled and said, "Wait till you see them."
"I've seen them," Artesia muttered.
John saw the shift in Artesia's demeanor. "Am I missing something?"
"They're sand elves or some such," Zynga said. "Hardy but smaller than even the wood elves of the north. They've been pets of the people of Carvin for ages now. Since long before the kingdom fell apart."
"Pets?"
"Slaves," Artesia corrected.
John grunted and watched the soldiers getting closer to them. Some of them were short, he realized. Short enough to be dwarves. Their beards confirmed his guess, although most of the human soldiers were bearded as well.
"Last chance," Artesia offered when the soldiers had nearly reached them.
"To leave? No need, I think," John said. "We've nothing to hide."
"As you say, my lord."
John glanced her way and then had to look back as a human soldier stopped next to the wagon. He turned his attention to the man and wondered how heavy and hot it would be wearing a hauberk of chain under a leather vest with small plates sewed into it.
"Need to search your wagon," the soldier said.
John glanced into the bed of his wagon and shrugged. "There's not much to search. What are you after?"
"A woman," he said as he leaned over the back of the wagon to make sure it was as bare as it looked. He grunted and eyed John's chest. "What's in there?"
"Books," John said.
He looked doubtful. "Books?"