Wizard Ch 03

Traveling through the dangerous wilds with a troop of gladiators... what better companions could there be?

John stepped out of the trees and into the small camp. Four riding horses, an open wagon pulled by another horse, and three tents made a loose circle around a campfire set up with a proper iron spit with pots hanging to heat soup. A portly man tending the fire and food. A young girl stood at the ready to jump whenever he asked for something. Two tall, slender men were sparring on the far side of the camp. Others were sitting, standing or probably resting in their tents.

"Now this is a camp," John mused.

"John, I need a favor," Jennaca said.

"Another favor?" he asked with a lewd wink.

Jennaca blushed. "It's because of that," she whispered.

"I don't understand... is something wrong?"

"Not wrong... exactly. It was right. So very, very right."

"We were seen, you know."

She grinned. "I know... I think that's part of the problem."

"You've never been shy before. It's natural, you said... why now?"

"Oh, I'm not worried... I'm... well, I'm still ready for you, if you know what I mean."

John's jaw dropped. He collected it and stared at the blushing woman. "I'm not going to bed you again this soon! It's been what, fifteen minutes?"

"Closer to twenty or thirty, I think," she said and shrugged. "I'm not asking for that though. Might be awkward, rutting away like animals in heat in the middle of their camp."

"Yeah!" John scoffed. He shook his head and chuckled. "What's gotten into you? Besides me, I mean."

She grinned. "Yeah you did. So into me. Saints, it felt wonderful. You were so rough and powerful and fucked me so deep."

John coughed. "Jen!"

She grinned. "Sorry. I can't help myself. And after, when I swallowed you down? Mmm, so good. You've changed me, John. I see these men here and I wonder how they'd compare. Could they fuck me half as well as you? Would they taste as sweet?"

He stared at her with his lips parted. He was shocked and turned on. Granted, he was always at least a little turned on since waking up pledged to Mistress Beytrixxa, but this was something different.

"Oh, don't worry. I won't touch them," she said. "I wonder, but I couldn't bring myself to be with anyone else. I don't understand it, but I know it's true."

"The contract," John said.

"Oh, from our first time, when you finished inside me?"

He nodded. "It will last a year. You're stuck with me until then, I guess."

"Mmm, good," she said. She looked him up and down and bit her lip while squeezing her legs together. "Next time, maybe take a little more from me?"

"I think I might have to," John agreed. "Is that the favor?"

She shook her head. "No... I need to bathe, but I can't come up with a good excuse to go jump in the river."

"Why do you need to bathe? You, um... I finished in your mouth."

"It's not you that's running down my legs, it's me," she said. "You do this to me, John. Didn't I ever tell you that?"

"I... wow. No. No you didn't."

"Well, you do. Now stop being so smug and use your magic to freshen me up."

John nodded. "Right... just... there you go, all better."

Jennaca let out a sigh and smiled. "Thank you, Master."

His eyes widened.

Jennaca giggled. "Got you!"

"Remind me to thank my Mistress," John said. "If I were still a normal mortal man my heart wouldn't have been able to handle you."

Jennaca grinned. "Thank her for me too then."

John chuckled and turned his attention to the new man walking up to him. Another man followed behind him, shorter and younger and... John wasn't sure he could be called a man. He was young. Old enough, John supposed, but only barely. John turned his focus back to the man. He was more than old enough, judging by the salt and pepper beard and the grey at the temples of his dark hair.

"Lord John and Lady Jennaca, I'm told?" the man greeted them and offered his hand.

John took the man's offer and they grasped forearms before breaking away. "She's Lady Jennaca," John said with a nod to his scantily clad huntress.

The man's mask broke with a laugh. "I hoped as much! My name's Matthew. No title to it, but I lead this sorry group. My apologies for the misunderstanding with your furry friend."

Sasha answered with a soft roar.

"It ended well," Jennaca said. "I think Sasha enjoyed the hunt more than your friends did."

John frowned. "Are they well? They mentioned you had a healer?"

"We do. Sadie, she's a priestess of Eile that can't seem to get her fill of us," Matthew said. "She'll have them swing a sword in no time."

John nudged Jennaca.

She turned and looked up at him. "What?"

He glared at her until it was obvious she had no idea what he was hinting at. "Weren't you going to say something about what you did?"

Her brow creased. "On the trail? When we—"

"No!" John hissed. "Your arrow?"

"Oh... that. Well, I hadn't planned on it. Should I?"

John let out a heavy breath and looked at Matthew. "Matthew, please forgive my companion. She's spent much of her life in the northern wilderness and sometimes simple matters of courtesy escape her. I cherish her honesty and company, even if it comes at a cost of civility at times."

Matthew laughed. "Begging your pardon, milady, but I'm lowborn and don't have much use for civility either. Still, I expect I'd put up with a lot from a companion as fine as the one you've got yourself, my lord."

John smiled. "All the same, I'm sorry she put an arrow in your man. It was unnecessary and I hope your healer can help him."

"She's healed worse," Matthew assured him. "Might be it taught him a lesson too, although I was the one that sent them off after your cat proved better than our trap."

Jennaca's eyes narrowed. "Your trap?"

"Sure enough. We knew there was a tiger in the area. They usually stick to the plains north of here, but sometimes one comes down. Figured he'd make a fine addition to our show."

"She," Jennaca corrected him. She spoke with tight, controlled words that left no doubt as to her change in mood. "And I saved her from another group of people like you that used her for sport."

He held up his hands. "No harm done," he said. "And we'd have made sure she wouldn't have been killed. Sadie could fix her up too, if she was hurt. That's part of what we do here. We fight and yeah, sometimes accidents happen, but we're here to entertain, not to kill."

"The last people that had her only cared about how much gold she could bring them on bets," Jennaca admitted. She nodded after a moment. "We're good, but let me warn you now, never try to enslave any animal for your purposes."

He glanced at John and then back into the deadly serious eyes of the young woman. He smiled and nodded. "I'll take your words to heart, milady. I've got a feeling about you... I'd love to see you spar with one of my fighters. Would you?"

"Why?" she asked.

"To humor an old man and maybe teach one of my men a few things."

"I already taught a few of them how to shoot a bow," Jennaca reminded him.

Matthew laughed and turned to see the boy at his side staring at Jennaca with wide eyes. He clapped the boy on the shoulder and said, "Careful Troy, I'd guess she's only a few years older than you but she's probably more dangerous than her tiger is."

"Sasha's not my tiger, she's my friend," Jennaca said. She softened a little and added, "But you're right about the other thing."

Matthew laughed again and waved them in. "Come, join us. The hour grows late and George has been cooking for a while now, it must be near to done."

"We would," John said. "I've a wagon and more companions back down the road a bit though."

"I'll go get them," Jennaca offered.

Matthew shrugged. "They're welcome. Blasim told me you were headed north, as are we. I'd welcome people as skilled as you are. Perhaps you might even come to enjoy what we do?"

John smiled. "From what I've heard, strength in numbers would be wise. I'm afraid I'm not much of a fighter."

"That's a fine spear. Unusual though, I've never seen metal quite like that nor a blade like it. Was it cast with four blades?"

"It was," John said. He didn't offer any more about it. He turned to Jennaca. "Go ahead and tell Artesia to join us. Hurry, I'd like to watch you too."

Her eyes twinkled. "I'd like to be watched."

John smirked as she turned and broke into a jog. A few of the people in the camp turned and watched her run past the outskirts of the camp and then disappear into the forest with a flash of black and red fur beside her.

"Your wife is something else," Matthew said as he led John into the camp.

"Oh, she's not my wife," John corrected him. "Just one of my traveling companions. A dear friend, to be sure, but that's all."

"I heard there was something more to it," Matthew mused.

John blushed. "Ah, the trail."

"The setting sun must have played tricks on Hector's eyes," Matthew said.

"Maybe," John allowed. He smiled it away and asked, "So you all fight one another but nobody is killed?"

"We have some trick blades," Matthew said. "Filled with fake blood to make it look like a fatal blow was struck, but we rarely use them. Accidents happen with such things and all that."

"So... are your men actually fighters? The north is filled with real dangers."

Matthew chuckled. "A fair question. Wait and see, my lord."

"Wait to be attacked?"

"No! I meant wait for Lady Jennaca to return. I trust she's as good with her axe, sword, and daggers as she is with her bow?"

"You know, I'm not sure," John admitted. "She did fight her way through a castle to reach me once though and showed up covered in blood... none of it hers. I've never really seen her fight though."

"Sounds like we're both in for a treat then," he said. He turned and gestured at the cook. "George, this is Lord John, he and his companions will be joining us."

George turned to look at John. Sweat beaded his face from his time spent over the fire. "Rag!" he snapped.

The short haired girl beside him darted in and mopped his brow with a cloth. She smiled at John and then dropped her gaze to the ground.

"My lord, I hope you'll excuse the simple fare. If I'd known—"

John waved it away. "No need for excuses. If it weren't for you I'd be eating something on a stick. Rabbit or squirrel, most likely."

"Well good! I've bread and venison stew. Not as much venison as I'd like— they took the carcass before I could cut off the best parts."

"Bait," Matthew said. "Wasted bait, it seems."

John smiled. "I'm looking forward to it, George. Thank you."

Matthew pulled him away and looked to one of the two large tents. He motioned for John to follow and led him over and inside of it. The hair on John's arms stood up the closer he got until, at last, he almost felt as though something was tickling him. Matthew pulled the flap aside and stepped in. He held it open for John.

The tingling was gone almost as though it had never been. John blinked and frowned. He looked around, hesitating a moment longer, and then stepped into the tent. He gripped his staff, needing the confidence the magical weapon imbued him with, and saw Amos lying on a bloodstained bedroll while Roderick was kneeling on the other side of the tent. A woman was bent over him and holding his hand.

John's eyes went to Amos's belly where his arm rested. The shredded and bloodstained sleeve had been pulled back and cut off to reveal his arm. His whole and healthy arm. There were pink lines on it where Sasha's claws had torn flesh and muscle, but all of that was restored.

"By the last words of the Keret'Por..." John breathed. "What about his hand?"

"Just finished," the woman said. She stepped back and turned. Both her hands dropped, one from the holy symbol of Eila she held and the other from where she'd held it in front of her. She gasped and stepped back.

John ignored the priestess and looked at Roderick making a fist with his hand and then straightening it. "Feels good, Eila. Thank you!"

Eila stared at John instead of responding. She had presence of mind enough to take her holy symbol in hand and hold it to her lips.

Roderick's chest was bare, his shirt removed and the arrow wound in his chest nothing more than a red X of scarred flesh. Some of the blood on his skin was still wet and sticky but most of it hard dried and darkened.

"Amazing," John whispered.

Eila stepped back again.

"Eila, what's gotten into you?" Matthew asked. "This is Lord John. His lady— sorry, his companion, Lady Jennaca, was the one that put the arrow in poor Roderick here. Her pet, that tiger, tried to tear off Amos's hand."

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that," John said. "The arrow, that is. Sasha was only defending herself. That was a lesson well learned I think."

Mathew chuckled. "I'd say the other was a lesson too. They say she drew, loosed, and nocked a fresh arrow before they realized the first one was sticking out of Roderick's chest?"

"It's true," Roderick said with a nod of his head. "I didn't even realize and I was the one she shot!"

Mathew turned to John. "And from twenty five feet, if that?"

"Seems about right," John agreed.

Mathew whistled. "I've got to see her in action."

Roderick met John's eyes and looked away. His cheeks colored pink and so did John's. Roderick had seen her in action... an entirely different kind.

"I'm sorry," Eila mumbled. "Healing them took a lot out of me... I need to lie down, I think. Pardon me, Lord John."

John held up a hand. "Pardon me for intruding. Such healing is truly magical," he assured her. "I would enjoy learning more about this later, if you have the time."

She hesitated and nodded. "Of course, my lord."

John smiled at her and saw her raise the holy symbol back to her lips. John backed out of the tent, uncertain what exactly had just happened and then had Matthew gesture at the two men returning from sparring.

John gasped. "Those are women!"

Matthew howled with laughter and said, "You're damn right they are! Pardon my lowborn tongue, milord, but that's Roxanne and Helleen."

"They're tall," John said. "Tall and... are they sisters?"

"Twins," Matthew shared. "Strong as any man here too. To the point Helleen prefers that hand and a half sword and not a man among us would take that for pit fighting."

John admired the women as they approached. They were glistening with sweat and had loosened their leathers to let the wind touch their skin. John approved of the view even if he did see the faint traces of scars of past battles.

"Roxanne, Helleen, this is Lord John. His... companion was the one with the tiger that tried to take Amos's hand," Matthew introduced the women.

John took the two women in. Roxanne had a shield slung across her back and a heavy mace that sat in a harness at her hip, studded ball end up. Helleen wore the hand and a half sword across her back. Aside from their weapons, only their scars and the hair marked them as different, and even that was a mirror image. Roxanne's brown hair fell to her shoulder on the right and was shorn to her scalp on the left. Helleen's brown hair was shaved close on her right and fell to her left shoulder.

"I hope I never make you angry," John greeted them with a smile. "I saw enough of you two sparring to know how I'd fare."

Roxanne grinned as she looked him up and down. Helleen did the same, without the grin, and looked to her twin before saying, "Be careful, Roxy might offer you some private sparring lessons."

John smiled. "I have been training lately, it might be a good to get a fresh perspective. I've gotten pretty good at surviving the beatings I've been receiving."

Roxanne laughed and elbowed her sister. "You hear that? He even asked for it. Besides, I know how much you enjoy teaching tactics for two on one encounters."

Helleen grinned. With a fresh twinkle in her eye she looked at John and said, "Be careful what you ask for."

Matthew chuckled and clapped John on the shoulder with a heavy hand. He looked at John's shoulder and then seemed to appreciate for the first time that John was as tall as he was. He turned his back on the two warrior-women. "I'm thinking maybe you two might want to be careful with this one, and not because you like to play rough, either," he said.

"We won't leave any marks," Roxanne promised.

"Come on, let me introduce you to the rest of them."

John returned the smiles of the two woman a final time. They were sizing him up in more ways than one and it made his blood race to think of the possibilities. He forced his attention back to Matthew as the man led him over and began introducing to the final gladiator, Weston. Weston was young enough that he struggled to look older with wisps of hair instead of a proper beard.

"Weston, this is Lord John, he and his crew are joining us for supper," Matthew said. "He's the one Hector and Roderick were telling us about. Him and his friend and her friend, the tiger."

"Sasha," John said. "The tiger's name is Sasha. My friend's name is Jennaca."

"Lady Jennaca," Matthew said for Weston's benefit. "She's going to spar with us later too."

"Honor to meet you, milord," Weston said while sizing John up. His eyes went to John's spear and his eyes widened. "That's a fine spear you've got. I've never seen it's like before."

"Thank you. It was specially crafted as a gift for me," John said.

Weston eyed it a moment longer and nodded. "Fine weapon indeed," he said before turning to Matthew. "Are we to be off on the morrow then, if the beast— my pardon— if Sasha got away?"

"We will. Hopefully with Lord John and his friends alongside us. We all head north and the saint's know I'm tired of hearing the same lies from Blasim's mouth over and over again!"

The flap on the other large tent pushed open and Blasim walked out. He saw John and nodded before looking to Matthew. "Every story I've told is true."

Matthew chuckled and shook his head. "Even the one where you tricked the bandits into thinking you were a dragon magicked into looking like a man because you held a candle up to your arse and blew out flames when you farted?"

"Burnt a hole in my pants doing it!"

Weston and Troy laughed at the man's claim.

"It's possible," John said. "A fart will burn, it's much the same as swamp gas."

"Coming from Blasim, I believe it. He smells worse!"

Blasim's grin faded as soon as Matthew's insult hit home. He gestured at John, and said, "Clearly this is a learned man. Show some respect!"

John joined in the laughter and soon they were talking like old friends. Others joined them and they made their way to the fire pit while sharing updates, insults, and stories they'd told countless times to each other. John listened and absorbed all that he could, learning of them and determining that they seemed likeable enough, even if they weren't overly bound to each other. The except was Roxanne and Helleen. They were never far from each other's side and shared more with a look or a gesture than words would allow. Only Sadie didn't join them until the sound of John's wagon arriving could be heard over the friendly banter.

Jennaca and Sasha walked into camp first, causing all conversations to stop as they watched the half naked woman moving as smoothly as the fierce cat beside her. Jennaca smiled and waved at them all before stepping up next to John.

Jennaca turned to take in Roxanne and Helleen from head to toe and back. She nodded. "Oh, they'll do nicely!"

John coughed and looked at her. "Nicely? For what?"

"That would be fun to watch," Matthew agreed, misunderstanding Jennaca by an order of magnitude. "Jennaca against the Slash and Smash Sisters!"

The men hooted and cheered at the thought. Roxanne and Helleen looked at Jennaca and then at each other. They shared a grin and then nodded.