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Introduction:

A dark stone enters a parallel world where magic once reigned supreme. An ancient sorceress secrets the magic of the stone into nineteen-year-old Vel Tullius. Magic creeps back into the world. Vel’s beloved sister falls under his spell. He must confront the power his new magic holds over the women around him, while dodging spies, assassins, and those set on hording all magic for themselves. Vel finds himself caught between his loving family, evil queens, and the very gods themselves.

The Wicked Tower

By RawlyRawls

This is a work of fiction written solely to entertain. If you want to read lots more stuff, vote on new stories, or support my writing, please visit my Subscribestar site (you can find the link in my profile). Also, all characters in sexual situations are 18 years or older.

Chapter 1

Like most things, the echo of hooves died quickly out on the Hawk’s Road. Engineers had somehow suspended the cobbled path along the ridge. On one side, a declivity fell hundreds of feet down to the sea. On the other rested a barren chasm, dark with volcanic glass. Duke Fortinbras Tullius scowled down at the sea from the window of his carriage. He had been a duke for only three days, his father having officially disappeared on Monday. And here he was, already summoned by the two queens regent. He looked up to see Accipiter Cubitum’s twisting spires towering above him. The palace seemed to perch on the cliff like a hawk’s nest. From their spot on the winding road, Fortinbras could see the newest tower rise above all others. Still under construction, its iridescence corkscrewed into a passing cloud. The Blessed Tower they called it. Fortinbras shivered. It didn’t seem so blessed to him. “Does it frighten you, Potitus? The palace, I mean.”

The valet looked over at his hulking master. Young Fortinbras, just past his twenty-fifth year, was larger than any man Potitus had met, standing nearly six and a half feet. The duke also had fair skin. His father’s family had blood from north of the Inland Sea. But there was also gossip that his ancestors had consorted with giants. But Potitus preferred to think best of his master. “I accompanied your father many times to see the queens regent. They are most … accommodating, Your Grace.”

“Yes, of course they are.” Fortinbras nodded and continued to look out at the lapping waves far below. He thought of the gift he carried from his ancestors between his legs. He had nothing to fear. The queens regent were women, and Fortinbras has always had a way with women. He smiled at the thought of showing those twin rulers his mighty cock. He imagined the look on their faces as roles reversed and they swore oaths to his service while gagging on his cum. He closed his eyes, forgetting his cramped surroundings, the suspended road, and his missing father. He ran through his plan again. Find the Maiden Lucia and begin with her. He could do that. He would do that.

~~

“Well, that went well.” Fortinbras walked swiftly down the marble corridor away from the throne room. He paid little heed to the great animals posed in various states of aggression on either side of the red, running carpet. He shivered despite his heavy, formal cloak with its fur lining. The throne room had been beset by a singular chill. Not pleasant at all. Duke Fortinbras was used to the more pleasant things in life. “A simple meet and greet. They only asked of me my sworn loyalty and the sublimation of my lands. A trifle.”

“Yes, Your Grace.” Potitus scurried after his duke. The young man had such long strides it was difficult to keep up. “Are we going home now?”

“I think not.” Fortinbras looked around. He was pleased the queens hadn’t thought to give him an escort. “You know of my charge, Potitus?”

“I do not, Your Grace.” Potitus frowned. The sooner they left that dark place the better for him. But of course, he kept such feelings to himself. “What is your charge?”

“I must find the Maiden Lucia.”

“I would think the atrium would be a place to start the search.” Potitus was starting to huff and puff as his short legs worked to keep up with the duke.

“Excellent.” Fortinbras turned left at a junction, passing an angry looking scimitar-toothed cat. Fortinbras started when he looked down to see the lifeless, snarling thing, and then strode on. “Is it this way, then?”

“Actually, Lord Fortinbras, it is this way.” Potitus stood by the spotted cat, watching its cold, dead eyes closely. He gestured in the opposite direction. “It’s this way.”

“Oh, excellent.” Fortinbras turned, his long cloak twirling around him, and walked toward the atrium. He almost ventured a cheerful whistle, but looked around and thought better of it.

~~

What would the new duke want with her? Lucia followed the towering man, his valet at her heels. Those from the lands that surround the Inland Sea were not tall, with olive skin, and dark hair. But as she looked up at the back of his silver blond hair, Lucia thought how foreign this man’s complexation was. His eerie blue eyes had given her something of a fright when he’d fetched her from her tasks amongst the fruit trees.

“You know the princess well?” Fortinbras had the most offhanded tone, simply making small talk with one of the lesser classes. He didn’t bother to look back at her.

“I am her maiden, Your Grace.” Lucia looked down at her muddy gardening stola and wondered again, what such a man could want with her.

“Here we are, Your Grace.” Potitus stopped and pointed to a wooden door. “This is the room you asked for.”

“Very good, Potitus.” Fortinbras stopped, reached a great hand out, and opened the door with a long creak. “Please enter, maiden. We have much to discuss.” He ushered her in, admiring her wide hips and ripe ass. “Potitus, wait here for me. Make sure our conversation is uninterrupted.”

“Very well, Your Grace.” Potitus bowed low and watched his master stoop under the door lintel and disappear from sight.

~~

“Does the princess treat you fairly?” Fortinbras gazed about the room. It had been set for display, with an impressive suit of dragon-mail worn by a mannequin in a martial pose. The warrior, no doubt, was set to fight off the mighty rays out at sea. But such creatures were now nothing more than sentences in dusty old history books. Or perhaps fables. “Do the queens give you their approbation?”

“Well … I … I …” Lucia stammered as she studied his face so high above hers. He was handsome, but in a cold way. As if he’d been cut from glass. “I rarely see the queens. And Princess Minicia and I are quite close. We both have eighteen years and I’ve been her maiden for …” Lucia blushed. She could tell from his expression that she’d talked too intimately about the princess.

“You will do nicely.” Fortinbras removed his cloak and slung it over the dragon-mail. “Has anyone ever told you that your beauty rivals the moon, and that your eyes sparkle as do the stars?”

“No, Your Grace.” Her blush deepened. She thought of the stablehand that often flirted with her. He might think such things, but he’d never said them to her. Of course, he had stolen from her a few kisses here and there, which had much amused the other maidens and the princess. “May I ask, what is it you require of me?”

“I require nothing. But I ask all that you have to give.” Fortinbras removed his white robes to reveal his tunic underneath. He was already quite hard, and was well aware of the effect his cock had on a woman as it pushed on his tunic.

“Oh, my gods.” Lucia’s hand went to her mouth. Could his viper be that large? Her cheeks were now so hot she thought they’d explode. “Your Grace? I don’t … um … understand.” She rubbed her legs together and her stomach turned over and over like a winged bird. No man had ever made her feel this way. “Wait, you mustn't.” She turned her head as he removed his tunic, but her wide, brown eyes kept sight of him in the periphery. He was muscled and chiseled, everything over-large and out of proportion. Most of all his mammoth of a cock that sprung forth from his loins like an angry devil, with a dark blue head and great, terrible veins.

“Will a maiden tell a duke what he must do?” Fortinbras laughed and stepped toward her. His penis swayed before him. With each step, droplets of precum fell to the floor.

“I am in the queens’ service. It is my duty to –” She cut short when the great bluish head nudged her shoulder. He was so tall that had she been of mind, she could have taken him into her mouth while standing up. A great hand took hold of her brown hair, and her face was lowered to that wide blue-helmeted cock. Apparently, the duke was of mind. She really should put up a fight for her princess and the monarchy. Even a duke should not lay hands on those in service to the queens. But that aroma stole the fight from her soul. It was pungent, like fruit from lands south of the Surround, and it beguiled her senses. For the first time in her life, Lucia pleasured a man with her mouth.

“That’s a good girl.” Fortinbras voice lowered, and smoothed itself over each vowel. He practically purred, watching this young, forbidden woman fall to him. He never grew tired of these conquests. For the first few minutes, she remained taut like a bowstring, as he helped her rhythm with the weight of his hand on her silky brown hair. But it didn’t take long for her motion to turn fluid. What a sight she was, this sweet thing, bent slightly at the waist, fully clothed, and slobbering on his cock. She could get no more than the head in her mouth, but that was fine with Fortinbras. “I taste better than other men.”

“Mmmmpppphhhhhhhh.” Lucia reached both hands up to hold his manhood. She should not have been surprised, since she was rolling her tongue around that meaty helmet, but the weight of it startled her and caused her vagina to gush. She couldn’t reach her hands around the thing. She’d always thought herself to be a normal-sized woman, but at that moment she felt incredibly petite. She pulled off him and gasped for air. “Your Grace … is that enough? May I … go now?”

“Not quite yet, my little arbor flower.” Fortinbras, with skills gained from all the women who had fallen before little Lucia, quickly removed her stola. He drank in her naked beauty. Young, full tits heaved on her chest with each breath. Her dark nipples stood proudly on her copper skin. He admired the sweep out of her hips, and the black triangle between her legs. “First, you must open to me.”

“Wait … I haven’t … before … I … just wait …” Lucia felt herself rise above the floor, those great hands cupping her butt and lifting her into the air. She was now his plaything, and the realization sent an electric shock to her core. The smell of him surrounded her as he pressed her close and her cheek smooshed against that broad chest. “If you put it … in me … I’ll break.” Her heart thudded in her chest. She felt his helmet explore her outer folds. She convulsed in his arms.

“A common misconception, my maiden.” He slipped the head of his dick inside her and listened to her piggy grunts. She was his now. “You’d be surprised how often that’s been said to me. And untrue every time.” He tightened his grip on her round, little ass and pulled her down onto him several inches. She now wailed into his chest and clutched his back with her grubby hands.

“Too … much … uuuuggggghhhhhh … it’s … all the way … inside my belly … ooooohhhhhhhh.” Lucia was faintly embarrassed to lose control in front of a high lord, but her reasoning brain faded fast.

“It’s not halfway.” Fortinbras laughed again. “By summer’s end you’ll be riding me like the queens’ most nimble knight. Now here … ugh … take the rest of it.” With that he forced her down until their hips met. Her scream was surely heard by Potitus. Fortinbras hoped no other passersby wandered the halls in this part of the palace.

“Your Grace … ugh … Your Grace … Your Grace.” Soon, Lucia was guided by those massive hands to take great lunging strokes on that cock in midair. Her poor sandaled feet flopped on either side of the great mountain of a man, and her eyes lost focus. She had heard whispers about sex from the other women in the palace. Either it was uncomfortable and confusing, or mildly pleasant. But this was something else entirely. Her whole body surged with the power of the gods. Her vagina stretched to just before the point she feared it might snap on her, but never further. It greedily hugged the mammoth invader inside her so tight that she thought she might squeeze him out. And her mind was set aflame. A roaring bonfire of lust reshaped her very expectations from life. If this sort of pleasure was possible, why had nobody told her before now? Why had they kept it hidden? As she bounded on the duke, she knew she would forever give him all that he asked in exchange for access to that magical tool between his legs. A long wail escaped her lips and her mind was carried off entirely, leaving behind only the writhing animal in her lover’s arms.

“I am your first, I see.” Fortinbras pulled her off his long cock and placed her on her feet. Her legs nearly gave out, but kept her upright with a hand on her shoulder. “Will you tell me more about the princess?” He turned her around and lifted her standing onto the cushion of an embroidered chair. This way, he only had to lower himself a little to slide back into her. He grabbed her hips and let her know the full force of his power, watching his dick furrow into her most protected places.

“Eeeiiiiiiiiii … princess? Ugh … ugh …” Lucia wanted desperately to give him whatever he asked, but she couldn’t get her mind to process his request. “Ugh … what … princess?”

“It seems …” Fortinbras chuckled. “… that I have so … uh … uh … uh … overpowered your mind that you cannot answer me.”

To this, Lucia responded with a series of mewls.

“So be it.” Fortinbras accelerated his pace. “It is time … for you … to receive … aaaaaauuuuuuggggghhhhhh.” He let the eruption explode out of him and filled the young woman he had speared.

“Wwwwaaaa … wwwwwaa …” She wanted to tell him to wait again. To do it outside. But another orgasm had gripped her mind and robbed her of her speech. Instead of a protest, she quivered on him, held the chairback with rigid fingers, and let the fire spread within her womb.

A while later, Fortinbras retrieved his tunic and pulled it over his head. “Would you like to see me again, maiden?”

Lucia’s eyes rolled languidly over to him. She sat slumped in the embroidered chair, still naked. Her breasts hung to the side, and her vagina burped out a copious amount of sperm. She tried to restart her mind. The first thought was that she’d need to see a witch to make sure she wasn’t with child. “I must see you again, Your Grace.” The ferocity of her own words startled her out of her stupor. She rose from the chair and moved toward her stola. She was well aware that his eyes followed her form and that she pleased him. “I mean, if you would care for such a meeting, I would be at your mercy.” And she would be at his mercy. His plaything.

“Very good, my arbor blossom.” Fortinbras smiled, set his robes just right, and pulled on his cloak.

As she pulled on her own clothes, Lucia marveled at the warmth in his smile. How a duke had come to see her this way was a deep mystery.

“I will send word.” Fortinbras turned and headed for the door.

“Your Grace.” Lucia stopped struggling with her stola, the dress only covering her top-half, and curtsied. She would wait for his word with bated breath. But first she needed to see about cleaning the mess they’d made.

~~

“And how was my son’s visit to the palace?” Cassia smiled over at her oldest. He was now the Duke of Ostia Novus, she could hardly believe it. Her dimples lessened some as she reminded herself that his position came too early, at the expense of her poor husband. She brushed a curl of brown hair away from her round, pretty face. “Did you find the queens in good health?”

“They made me … take an … oath,” Fortinbras said between great bites of honeyed ham. “All went … well.” He looked from his sweet mother across the long table over to the Sorceress Brynhild. The woman winked a blue eye at the duke and Fortinbras nodded back. Then his gaze moved down the table to his siblings. His older sister, Bantia sat backlit by the roaring fire, she prodded her meat with a silver fork, curtains of brown hair fell on either side of her face. Fortinbras looked next to his little brother, Vel, now nineteen years and nearly as tall as his brother. The boy had inherited the same fair features, too, but his aspect was unmanly in Fortinbras’s opinion. He was a wraith of a man, made of only skin and bone. Which was fine, since he was destined for a life without responsibility of title or lands. Finally, Fortinbras looked to the youngest of the bunch. Naevia was a woman grown at eighteen years, but she maintained a youthful quality. Unlike the rest of her family, she had neither blond nor dark hair, but instead a flaming cascade of copper waves flowed over her shoulders. At the moment, she stared doe-eyed at Vel. Fortinbras wondered about those two sometimes. Now that he was the head of the family, he would have to have a talk with them sometime soon. He turned back to his mother. “I think I shall visit the palace again, soon.” He gave her a mischievous look.

“Now, little sparrow. I know that expression well.” Cassia frowned at her handsome son. “Trouble followed on the heels of that smile throughout your childhood. The queens are not some dockside friends to be taken lightly. Do not mess with them. Your father would only visit the palace upon invitation and even then –”

Fortinbras cut her off with a wave. “Did I say that I would travel without an invite?”

“They’ve invited you back?” Cassia raised an eyebrow. She did not want royal eyes upon her house. Better to be left to their work running Ostia Novus. They were, after all, the port of destination for all the Surround.

“Did I say that?” Fortinbras smirked again and then turned his attention back to his ham.

“His Grace’s power is now in full bloom.” The Sorceress Brynhild smiled pleasantly, showing off her chilling northern smile. She was a tall woman, dwarfing the other ladies at the table. Her blond hair was braided up on her head, in a way not in fashion in the Surround. “Don’t you think it’s best to let him see to his own business?”

“Yes.” Cassia’s round face fell. “Yes, of course.” Her husband had always lent an ear to her advice. She would have to adjust to their new life. She turned her attention back to her meal.

~~

“Are you sure Your Grace wouldn’t prefer some young thing between his bedsheets?” Brynhild carefully removed her stola. She measured her pace to tease the young man as much as possible. She lowered the dress rather than lifting it over her head, exposing one pale breast after the other.

“I had a young thing earlier today on your suggestion.” Fortinbras laughed and reached for his hardening member. He lay on his back in the middle of his enormous four-post bed, watching the beauty sway as she disrobed. “Besides, you look every bit as young as the Maiden Lucia. But much more beautiful.” He carefully regarded her breasts, with their pale pink nipples jutting out. The breasts were probably bigger than Lucia’s, but on this tall woman they were proportionally smaller. They suited her well, Fortinbras thought. He watched as her flat midriff came into view.

“I look that young, you think? His Grace is too kind.” Brynhild could see his eyes fix on the blond hair between her legs. His cock rose higher still. He was like a dog trained to obey for its reward. “Looks are often deceiving.”

“Whatever you say.” Fortinbras reached out for her and pulled her into bed with him. She was the only woman he’d been with who somewhat matched him in size. He mused on her body as he pulled her on top of him and she guided him into her ready pussy. This was how most people of the Surround experienced their mating. Two giants were no different than small people relative to one another. “How are you always so tight?”

Brynhild ground her hips on him and ignored the question. “I know … ooohhhhhh … you like them young,” she cooed. “But how about older women? Do you fancy them … as well? Your mother is very pretty.” She dug her nails into his chest and felt that wonderful cock stretch at her. Every time was like the first time. Because, of course, her vagina was unlike that of any other women.

“My mother?” Fortinbras frowned. “The gods forbid it. And, anyway, she is … my mother.” Despite the woman working him he felt his dick deflate some.

“You long for her, Your Grace.” Brynhild’s eyes locked with his and moved her rhythm faster, now bouncing on his dick. She could feel him harden again. “She cared for you your whole life, bringing you countless joys. It is time you brought her happiness, too. Especially now that your father is gone and her bed is a barren place.”

“By the gods, you’re right.” Fortinbras couldn’t believe it. He had had these feelings all along, and only now just realized them. “I will bring her happiness on the end of my spear.”

“That’s my duke.” Brynhild bounced and rocked her hips in a motion she had honed over the centuries, guaranteed to bring a man to his completion. Her breasts hopped wildly before his eyes. “Now … ugh … give me your seed … oooohhhhhhhhh.” She rolled her eyes and cried out as the young man bellowed and emptied himself inside her.

~~

“I’m already in here, young man. You can take a bath later.” Cassia covered her large breasts with her arms and squinted through the swirling steam. She couldn’t see the intruder clearly, but his hulking, manly form gave him away. It was clearly her first born son.

“I wanted to join you, Mother.” His keen eyes were blunted by the murk of the room. Fortinbras strode in, confident as could be despite his nakedness in front of his own mother. His heavy dick, soft for the moment, swung between his legs as he carefully stepped through the tiled room. “We need to have a talk in privacy.” He slipped into the bath opposite her. Now that he was closer, he could see the swell of her hanging breasts behind her arm. She was so full of curves and supple promises. So unlike the young women he normally consorted with. How had he not seen her true beauty before now?

“We can have a private chat when I am fully dressed.” Cassia didn’t like the way he looked at her. Her sons were so different. If only gentle Vel had been the first born. He would make for a more caring master. “Please leave and we can discuss this later.”

“You may go.” Fortinbras waved his hand at the shadows of servants that lined about the room. The women quickly exited leaving mother and son alone in the bath. “Now, that’s better. I’ve been thinking, you must be very lonely with Father gone.” He slid along the bench around the bath until they were next to one another. Steam rose around them and he could see beads of sweat form on her forehead and exposed shoulders. Such delicate shoulders, wonderfully juxtaposed with the swell of her breasts just below. He put a hand on her arm and slowly lowered it into the water. His eyes feasted on her exposed flesh. Her nipples were large and dark, with wide areola.

“What … are you doing, darling?” Cassia was well aware that he was aiming to cross a terrible Rubicon. As a woman of the Surround, she always felt small in her son’s presence. But never more so than at that moment.

“Call me Duke Fortinbras, or Your Grace.” Fortinbras bent down and kissed her cheek demurely. “I am your duke. And you are still my duchess, no?”

“I am … the duchess … yes.” The steam seemed to constrict her breathing. Cassia needed to leave that place, and quickly. She lifted herself from the water, knowing full well that she would expose her lower half to him. Sure enough, as she climbed out of the bath, she could see his eyes upon her butt. She stood straight above him dripping on the tile, looking down at him over her shoulder.

“You look less a duchess and more a Venus. You are, in my eyes, the very goddess of fertility and harvest.” He reached out a hand and clasped her ankle so that she wouldn’t slip away. “Come back to the bath.”

“Let go of me, Your Grace,” she said the last two words with a hiss. She pulled her leg, but his grip was firm.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Vel stepped into the bath, and saw his mother’s form through the haze. “I saw the servants leave. I thought you had left, Mother.”

“Turn and go, little sparrow.” Cassia’s voice had a hint of desperation. She could see Vel’s tall lanky form hesitate. “You can have the bath in a little while.”

“Is there someone with you?” Vel had poor eyesight, but he thought he saw the shadow of a man in the bath next to his mother. By the man’s size he could be no other but the duke. “Are you in trouble?” He did not like the tone of Cassia’s voice. He took a couple steps across the room, paused, and pulled his robes tight around him.

“You are dismissed, little brother,” Fortinbras sneered. His grip tightened on the ankle he held. “Go off and find Naevia so that you might play your games together. Leave me to play mine.”

Vel blinked. He could just make out a strong, muscled arm snaking out of the bath, clutching Cassia. He knew that his brother suspected he and Naevia of being closer than they were, which meant that Vel understood the kind of games Fortinbras had planned for their mother. “Leave her alone.” Vel hurried to the bath, bent down, and tried to pry his brother’s fingers from their mother’s ankle.

Having none of the intrusion, Fortinbras slammed his other fist into Vel’s right check.

“Nooooo!” Cassia screamed.

Vel’s robes opened as he fell to the tile with a crack of ceramic. Fortinbras hesitated when he saw the young man’s manhood exposed. Soft though Vel was, he was quite large. He was, indeed, more manly than Fortinbras had thought.

“Get your hand off my mother.” Using his brother’s brief pause, Vel got to his feet and pulled Cassia from his clutches. “Come, let’s go.” Vel stumbled away, he protectively pulled her under his robes, aware of her hot skin against his. He felt her boob bounce against his hip as they walked, but he did his best to put it out of his mind.

Outside the bath, mother and son nearly ran into Potitus who was loitering about.

“Where is the duke?” Potitus looked unsure of himself as he blocked their path.

“His Grace is enjoying his bath.” Cassia mustered her best smile. “Out of our way, Potitus.”

The man didn’t move.

“Did you not hear your duchess? Move.” Vel was concerned that each moment wasted in the hall offered his brother a chance to retrieve their mother.

Reluctantly, Potitus stepped aside.

“Let’s get you back to your rooms.” Vel took a deep breath in the clear air of the hall. They turned right and hurried away. He looked over his shoulder frequently, but it seemed Fortinbras had not pursued them.

~~

That night, as the family supped on lamprey bisque, a quiet beset the table. The duke had little to say to the others, but glared especially at his younger brother.

Vel kept his head down, and barely enjoyed the salty meal. He was appreciative of Naevia’s hand on his thigh. He hadn’t told her how he’d bruised his face, but her green eyes wouldn’t leave his cheek, and her freckled face wore a particularly severe frown for one usually prone to joviality.

“I will leave for the palace first thing tomorrow.” Fortinbras abruptly stood and cast his bowl into the roaring fire where it shattered. “It should be a day of good fortune for this family. Wish me luck.”

They all murmured their good luck to him, though none of them knew of his errand’s purpose.

“Goodnight.” He turned and strode out, his heavy cloak whirling about him. Potitus followed him out.

Silence lingered in the dining hall after he left. Servants removed the bisque and brought in honey cake. Cassia stood and bid her remaining children goodnight.

Bantia was next to leave. She mumbled her evening pleasantries, and her tall, slender frame vanished out the door.

Then it was just the youngest two.

“Tell me now, sweet Vel.” Naevia gently touched the ghastly purple blotch on his cheek. “Was this our brother?” She whispered the words so that the remaining servants wouldn’t hear. Like her mother, she had the stature of a woman from the surround, so her hand appeared quite small next to her brother’s face.

“It’s a confusing business.” Vel smiled at her concern and ruffled her copper hair. He took a bite of cake and thought things over. “I hardly know what I saw. You know how my eyes are. I cannot tell you anything for it would surely cast a pall upon our family. And right after Father’s disappearance.”

“What can’t you tell me?” Naevia broke a piece of her own honey cake and took her eyes off her brother to observe it. It was perfectly light and spongy. She squeezed. Yet firm. “You were never very good with secrets.”

“I really can’t.” Vel stood, and gave her a sad smile. He bent low and kissed her perfect forehead. “I’m going to read in the library. We’ll talk tomorrow.” As he left, his sandal crunched on a piece of his brother’s bowl that had ejected itself from the fire. His brow furrowed. He needed to do some research. He couldn’t tell up from down at the moment.

~~

The muffled screaming seeped out into the hall. Apparently, the maiden enjoyed her second meeting with the duke. Potitus smirked as he listened to her fall out of her mind. He leaned against the stone wall near the posed carcass of a giant beaver. The taxidermist had done his best to make the beast look menacing, but it was a beaver after all. Potitus gave the creature a nod. They were becoming fast friends, having spent hours in the hallway together.

A deep ringing vibrated the stone gently. The great bell on the tower somewhere far above them told the palace that noon had arrived. It informed Potitus that he had spent his whole morning listening to rutting with his aquatic friend. “Will they ever finish?” He rolled his eyes at the lifeless animal. A few minutes later, he heard a mighty roar and the loudest cry yet from the woman. “Finally. Right?” The beaver did not reply. It had the patience of Pluto.

It was none of Potitus’s business where the duke sought out pussy. But the valet wondered why they braved the Hawk’s Road, waking up at an ungodly hour, just so the duke could dip his wand in some woman bound to another. Maybe the duke enjoyed taking what was not his? Potitus couldn’t say. But if that was the case, there were plenty of wives in Ostia Novus. And none of them bound to the princess as was the Maiden Lucia. But the duke was the duke, and who was Potitus to question?

The door opened and Lucia emerged. She closed the door behind her and didn’t look at Potitus. Her stola was ripped at the shoulder, and she waddled away down the hall as if she had just spent all morning riding some giant beast. Which, Potitus mused, she had. Motion down the hall caught his eye. Men in the blue cloaks of the palace guard moved two-by-two down toward him. Potitus cast his eyes to the ground and tried to look like he belonged out in the palace corridor for no reason. Thank the gods the duke had already stopped his rutting. Lucia passed them and disappeared. Potitus waited for the guards’ rustling cloaks to pass him, but instead, six pairs of sandaled feet stopped right in front of him. “Good, afternoon,” Potitus said.

“Just so,” said a cold feminine voice from down the hall.

~~

A knock on the door turned Fortinbras around just as he adjusted his robes. “Hold, Potitus. I am almost dressed. I’m starving. As a duke, do you think I’m entitled to a meal from the palace kitchen?”

The door swung open and Potitus stood in the doorway with the most odd expression screwed to his face.

“Well, man? The kitchens. What do you think?” Fortinbras pinned his cloak and eyed his valet. Was something wrong with the man? And then Potitus fell forward like a board, his face crashing into the stone slab floor. A dagger stuck from his back at about the point where Fortinbras figured the valet’s heart would be. The duke’s breath caught in the back of his throat. A singular chill entered the room.

“I do not think our kitchen will serve a duke without invitation. Even one from our great port of Ostia Novus.” A woman’s voice carried over the valet’s dead body. It was clean, crisp, and precise. Six men filed into the room, their blue cloaks clasped neatly over their purple tunics. And then, a pale woman with black hair wearing a green patinaed copper crown glided in behind them.

“Queen Regent Valeria.” Fortinbras dropped to a knee.

“Rise up.” Valeria carried with her a scepter of patinaed copper, with an image of Salacia fashioned on the head.

“You’ve … killed my valet … Your Majesty.” Fortinbras rose back to his full height, towering above the others in the room. His brow furrowed. Potitus was a good man. Normally he’d be in a rage. But it seemed one of the queens was responsible.

“A price needed to paid.” She stepped around her men and walked up to the duke. “You only just gave us your oath, and yet then you took from our princess.”

“Yes, I see.” Fortinbras nodded. So, this was his way out. Potitus was not an unfair price to pay for his transgressions with the Maiden Lucia. He’d been caught and now he’d need a new plan. “I hope you’ll forgive my passion for your beautiful maiden.”

“Your passion I can forgive.” Valeria looked up into the man’s ugly blue eyes. However could they stand to look at each other in the north, she wondered? Such a hideous people. “You were asking the maiden questions about the princess?” She turned and walked around the man. He reeked of sex. She loitered behind him.

“Only to know her royal highness better.” Fortinbras relaxed his shoulders. He was comfortable with words. “My family has long kept safe the Surround’s biggest port, but my seat of power is new. I felt in bed with the maiden I might learn more about how to please the crown.”

“Fifty-two years.”

“Your Majesty?” Fortinbras furrowed his brow again.

“Your family has guarded Ostia Novus for the crown for only fifty-two years. That is when your grandfather came from the north and aided in our revolution. We are the true people of the Surround. We who are dark, correctly proportioned, and do not scheme for others’ lands.” The queen pressed a button on her scepter and a four-inch spike silently rose from Salacia’s copper arm. “We our bound to honor your family’s seat and title. But we are growing short on male Tullius heirs.”

“I don’t understand.” Fortinbras tried to look over his shoulder at the queen, but she was standing right behind him.

“On that we agree.” Valeria thrust her scepter up and caught Fortinbras with the spike at the base of his skull. With a faint crack, the bone gave way and all four inches embedded in his brain. She then quickly removed the scepter and stepped away from the giant of a man. She did not want to be crushed like some unskilled lumberjack. With a mighty thump, the erstwhile duke’s body hit the stone floor. “Let us hope your brother understands more than you did. We will tolerate you Tullius savages in Ostia Novus,” she said to the bleeding corpse. “But not here. Never in Accipiter Cubitum. And we cannot forgive treachery.”

 

Chapter 2

There was a smile on his mother’s sweet, round face. But her tears worked to undermine and confuse her expression. Vel stood awkwardly as she buttoned his robes just right. “Are you okay, Mother?”

“I’m fine.” Cassia sighed and did her best to keep her smile going. “I’m fine. It’s just that the queens regent wasted no time in naming you the new duke. Your brother may still be traveling, or spending his time on one of his … hobbies, or …” Weeping threatened to overtake her so she forced her mind to change course. “I’m just so proud of you. My Duke.” She finished with the buttons, patted his chest, and looked up at him. “A man of nineteen years and so handsome. I remember when you were just a little thing at my breast, and you’ve sprouted like a weed.” She reached up and lifted his chin so that his face struck a more regal pose. “Now remember, as duke, you are responsible for your people’s happiness. Not the other way around. Many would treat such a position as a luxury, but you –”

“I know, I know, Mother.” Vel didn’t mean to cut her off, but he’d heard the lecture aimed at his older brother many times. How odd that those words should now find him. Vel was the brother who was supposed to inherit his name and nothing more. “I will be good to Ostia Novus, just as she has been good to me. And you will help me rule.”

“I hope you will listen to my advice, darling. But I am nothing more than a dowager duchess. To be replaced when we find you a bride.” Cassia wiped at her cheeks with the back of her hand and waved the servant girl over to affix Vel’s cloak. Sage charred in the nearby brazier, and Cassia breathed in its sorrowful scent. Had she really lost her husband and her first-born in such a short span of time? “Brynhild would like to speak with you before your journey. Your father trusted her, so listen well. But …” Cassia’s stomach turned over as she thought of the tall sorceress and her unnatural eyes. “But you may take your own counsel in all things. You do not have to do what she says.”

“Yes, Mother.” Vel watched his mother closely as she stood with her back toward him by the brazier. The maternal hourglass of her figure was not well hidden by her stola. Vel longed to curl in her lap and listen to her songs like in the days of his youth, burrowing into her bosom. But he was a man now, and he could no longer hide behind her skirts. “I love you, and I will make you proud.”

“I love you too, little sparrow.” She turned back to him. The tears had stopped and the smile widened. “You have the perfect temperament for what lies ahead. But you must steel yourself against those that would steer you wrong.”

“I will.” He bowed, a gesture no longer befitting his position, and turned to go. He would find the sorceress, Brynhild.

~~

“You may leave us.” Brynhild waved her servants out of the room and watched the young man stand uncomfortably in her doorway. This would be all too easy. “Come in, Your Grace.” She smiled warmly and offered him a cushioned chair. The Duke took a few steps into the room and stood, waiting. “Congratulations on your ascendancy.” She languidly walked over to him, keeping her eyes locked on his. She was one of the few who could do this at his level, they were almost exactly the same height. She ruffled her northern dress, well aware of how much cleavage and leg it left to his viewing. So unlike the prim women of the Surround. “I have a request for you when you visit the Palace.”

“Yes, of course.” Vel nodded. The woman’s smile was warm, and she was very pretty. Her face looked like it was only a year or two older than his. But something about Brynhild had always put him on guard.

“After you meet with the queens regent, you will seek out a young woman in the company of the princess.” She pushed her power through her gaze. The people of the Surround had little belief in magic, which made them quite susceptible to its workings.

“I will?” Vel raised a blond eyebrow.

“The princess is taking suitors now, but spurns Ostia Novus.” She slowly walked around the duke. He was scrawny, but handsome. He bore himself well enough, with just the faintest hint of a slouch. And she had heard from the servants that he carried a similar package to his brother. He would do well enough. “You are to take one of her courtiers into your bed and gain her confidence. And then you will have access to the princess’s ear.”

“As you say.” Vel nodded. He thought about what his mother had said.

“Very good.” Brynhild walked back in front of him and kissed him on the cheek. She reached down and pulled her dress so that the milky skin of her breast was further exposed. “And you may claim a reward in advance, if you so desire.” She gave him a daring smile.

Vel cocked his head and a crooked smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Was she offering what he thought she was? His cock gave a lurch. He had never been with a woman, and this powerful, beautiful creature was offering herself. Things would be different as duke, he realized. “Um … thank you, but my carriage waits.” He turned and made for the door.

“Oh. Very well.” Brynhild’s face fell. “I’ve ***********ed a valet for you. He’ll be waiting by your carriage.” She needed someone to keep an eye on the duke, just as she had had men with his brother and father in their time.

“Thank you and good day.” Vel opened the door and hurried from the room. His mind a cloud of confusion.

~~

“I find it odd that the queens are building such a monstrosity.” Vel looked out at the palace from their carriage window as the wheels under them bumped along the narrow ribbon of the Hawk’s Road. Even with his poor vision, he could see the nascent tower rising above all others. “Should they not wait for the queen and her new king to ascend? It is her palace after all.”

“The princess has been of age for a long time. It may be that the queens regent seek to rule in their own right.” Naevia pressed her small hand into her brother’s large one and squeezed as they gazed out the window. A breeze swept in and blew a strand of copper hair into her face. She pushed it away and pressed her side into Vel’s oversized frame. The two youngest Tullius siblings had always been close. Often ignored as their older brother and sister took the center stage, Naevia and Vel relied on each other for companionship. She adjusted her shoulder to move her right boob away from Vel’s lean body. How ever close they were, she was a grown woman, and her brother a young man. The last thing this family needed was the false accusation of impropriety, as Fortinbras had leveled at them not long ago. “Why bring me, Vel, instead of your valet? Brynhild ***********ed him.” She looked up into his narrow, squinting face as he dared his eyes to see into the distance. He looked almost comically adorable when concentrating.

“Do you trust the sorceress, Naevia?” Vel looked down into his sister’s open and honest face, dappled as it was with freckles, and he smiled at the frown he saw there. She didn’t need to answer. “Me either,” Vel nodded and then looked off to the sea. It was mostly a fuzzy haze to him. “I’ve been thinking about sending her back north. But she’s been with our family for a long time. I’m not sure how I might relieve us of her service.”

“Tread carefully there.” Naevia closed her eyes and leaned her head on his arm. The carriage rocked and helped settle her mind. “Have you told Mother?”

“She seems to trust Brynhild.” Vel shrugged. The tower grew as they drew nearer the palace. His first summons to court since becoming a duke. All things equal, he’d rather let others carry out the tasks that were now laid out before him.

~~

“How was it?” Naevia jumped up from the marble bench when she saw her brother’s long form stride down the hall. His shoulders seemed to droop. She frowned at him and took his hands in hers when he stopped in front of her.

“It was cold.” Vel shivered, dropped her hands, and turned his sister away from the throne room. “I said my oath and that was it.”

“Can we go home now?”

Vel took a step and paused. “I feel compelled to do another task while here. You should wait at the carriage.”

“What is it?” Naevia looked up into her brother’s blue eyes. So unlike her own. So unlike most anyone in that palace.

“I cannot say.” Vel walked down the hall, and took a right down another corridor.

Naevia lifted her formal stola and hurried her legs to keep up. “You cannot tell me? That seems improbable.” She tried to smile.

“Go back to the carriage, sister.” Vel didn’t look at her. His feet seemed to move on their own.

“Vel. Tell me.” her voice carried a sharp note. She grabbed at his wrist and stopped him in his tracks.

Something about her sweet voice shook his brain out its fog. “Brynhild wants me to …” He was embarrassed to say it, especially with the realization that he would have complied with the sorceress’s wishes but for that fierce, little hand on his wrist. “She wants me to bed one of the princess’s maidens. She wants me to be a suitor for the throne.”

“Oh, my.” Naevia put her free hand to her mouth. “But what if you’re caught?” She looked around them down the hall. It was empty but for the taxidermized corpse of a moose standing high, its antlers almost brushing the vaulted ceiling. “And why? You’re already a duke. Who needs to be king?” Naevia thought it over some more. “Do you even know how to … um … do it? With a woman, I mean.”

Vel’s pale cheeks turned scarlet at this last question. “Let’s go home, Naevia. We’ve done all we need to here.” He took her hand and backtracked toward the palace exit. They squeezed each other’s fingers tight.

~~

“You didn’t find the maiden, Your Grace?” A flash of confusion, followed by anger swept across Brynhild’s unlined face. Then her familiar, calm smile reappeared. A rainbow after a quick summer storm. The young man had refused her body and then ignored her plans. His brother and father had been quite suggestible. What was different about this one? “Did you look for her in the arboretum?”

“I did not.” Vel puffed out his chest, ready to send this woman on her way. “Naevia and I left after the oath.”

“You didn’t take my … I mean, your valet, Your Grace?” She eyed him closely. He looked almost to fit his station with his fine cloak and robes. But Brynhild could see the teenager underneath his accoutrements. “And now, I feel, you mean to send me away.” A most vulnerable sorrow spread across her face. She didn’t wait for an answer. “I beg you to keep me here with the Tullius family. I am sworn to help you achieve. The Peaceful North should not lose its most powerful foothold in the Surround.”

“What do I know of the North?”

“I will teach you. I will guide you. I am your friend, Your Grace.” Brynhild curtsied to him. She felt the change in the room and watched his young shoulders slump. She’d bought some time.

“You may stay. But no more missions. I will not bed women for you.” Vel turned and quickly stormed from the room. He thought of his mother and sister. He would find one or the other. He needed their gentle compassion. It had been a rough couple weeks.

Brynhild watched him go and then glided across the room to close her door. With a flick of her wrist, she locked it. “I fear he would never be king. What do I do?”

“He is more of a king than his brother or father.” The wind, in a soft whisper of a voice, answered her. It spoke in the most beguiling feminine tongue in the language of the polar circle. “You think too small.”

“I work with what I’m given. Fortinbras and Vel have the gifts of their ancestors. They cannot spy and cajole like their Lilliputian father.” Brynhild slowly lit her circle of candles by the window. As the wind spoke, the candles flickered. She knew she needed strong magic and quickly.

“I said you think small, not wrong.” The wind laughed, a fluttering cascade of ringing sounds. “You promised you would not make him bed more women. Keep your promise. Instead, send the women to him.”

“Am I to meet with each woman and push them one by one?” Brynhild sat cross-legged in the middle of her flaming circle with a sour expression on her face. “There is no magic in this world that would do as you say.”

“You think too small, child,” said the wind. “There are many worlds a hair’s breadth away from our own. I will now tear the slightest hole in this world so that you may reach through to a place that has what you seek.”

Brynhild felt the wind move into her and she gave her body over. Through the haze of magic that coursed through her like a wild blaze, she felt herself rip at the fabric of their very existence. And then, she reached her slender hand into … somewhere else. The place was so unlike the Surround, yet she recognized the land and the air. She pulled from that alien world a small stone. The rend in existence sealed back up as if it had never been there. She gasped as the wind left her. And then held up her hand. She held in her palm fine black dust that seemed to faintly pulse with some secret scarlet purpose. “All that for dust?”

“A pity,” the wind hissed. “I have not tried to bring such a rock through before. This one seems to have collapsed from the journey. But …” The wind picked up and swept around the room, careful not to disturb the dust. “… there is still power left. Infuse the dust in your duke. Bind it to him. This will achieve your aims.” The wind whistled out the window.

“But what does it do?” Brynhild felt the power in that dust. A part of some great being had been trapped inside. She was sure. Was this too blunt a tool? Was it too raw a power? A warmth spread down left her arm from the dust and moved to her heart. No, this would work well. She made a fist around the dust and felt quite lovely. She stood to prepare a way to get this powder into the duke, but then she felt a bit lightheaded. She steadied herself on a nearby table. Before she knew it, her free right hand was under her skirt. Fingers slid into her waiting gash. Had she ever been so wet? All she could think about was her stupid young duke and how terrible a thing it was that he’d refused her body. They would make such sweet music together. As she stood there frigging herself furiously, she started to make very fine solo music. Indeed, it sounded like she was singing her heart out as one sweeping orgasm followed the next.

~~

The duke’s guards would not let Brynhild pass. Especially not while the young lord was sleeping. She laughed and flattered the men. She pushed them with words toward sleep themselves, until both men slumped back against the stone wall. Somnolence reigned and their snores followed her into Vel’s chambers.

The powder now resided in an enchanted leather pouch. Brynhild thought it wise not to touch the stuff again. She crept to the great four-post bed and looked down on Vel. He slept well, his chest slowly rising and falling under the blankets. She hoped the foreign dust wouldn’t kill the young man. Opening the pouch, she held it above his slack face. “Andlinnr ok khange,” she whispered and turned the pouch over. The black dust hung in the air still pulsing red with beats as even as a heart. Then, as Vel breathed in, the dust turned to two little cyclones and disappeared up his narrow nostrils. Vel coughed, snorted, and rolled over onto his side.

The wind blew in from the open window, carrying with it the sea’s salty depth. The breeze happily tugged at Brynhild’s dress, spun about the room, and exited the way it had come. Brynhild turned and left the young duke to sleep. He would need his rest.

~~

Something wasn’t quite right. Vel blinked his eyes open. He ached. Not all of him, no. His balls ached like they hadn’t been drained in weeks. And he was incredibly hungry. He reached down under the blankets. The familiar steel of his morning tower met his grip. He knew he was bigger than men from the Surround, but that wasn’t saying much. And now … now he was sure he’d never been this large before. And his balls felt overripe.

Torn between two kinds of hunger, Vel stroked himself madly. He needed to eat. But first, he needed to cum more desperately than at any point before. The blankets flapped wildly as he brought himself as quickly as he could to a climax. Even so, it was more than a half-hour before the bedding was soaked in a deluge of cum. He’d never suspected a man could produce so much. What was happening to him? He felt bad for the servants that would make his bed that day as he dressed and raced off to an early breakfast. And then he felt for the cook, because he knew that he would be eating near their entire larder.

~~

After his morning episode, Vel felt the day fall into line. He had some awkward moments adjusting to his swollen package, especially at fencing. He thought about requesting a healer, but everything in his body seemed to be working. Maybe working too well, if anything. He was just so hungry.

There were long silences at the supper table as the family ate. This was by far the most uncomfortable moment of the day. Usually, Vel enjoyed family time. But now he shoveled food into his mouth as they sat in quiet. “What did this day bring?” Vel said between bites. He looked around the table and suddenly realized that with his brother and father gone, and his new valet dismissed, he was the only man in the room. How odd a position for a duke.

“Archery lessons,” Naevia mumbled. Followed by more silence.

“We would much like to hear about your day, Your Grace.” Brynhild seemed cheery as ever as she fixed her gaze on him. She brought the smallest bite of scallop pie to her pink lips and nibbled on it.

“I woke early.” Vel shrugged. “I met with the tutor, the marshal, and the seneschal.” As he thought it over, he realized that he’d spent most of the day around men. And now it was women as far as the eye could see. “And your day, Mother?”

“It was fine.” She looked up from her pie to her son and she could see that he did not miss the tears in her eyes. Immediately, a look of concern spread on his face. “I attended to the gardens, mostly,” she said.

“What’s wrong, mother?” Bantia, now the oldest of the Tullius siblings, reached out and patted her mother’s bare left arm. “Maybe Fortinbras will return. It hasn’t been that long.” She glanced quickly at her younger brother, but he had taken no offense. He never did.

“Something in the stars has turned against this family, I fear.” Cassia wiped at her tears. “I don’t think your brother or father are coming back.” She reached with her right hand and held Bantia’s hand. Taking a deep breath, Cassia looked around the table. “I am sorry. I’ve felt odd all day.” She fixed on her brightest smile and looked at her children. Bantia as soft, and solemn as ever. So tall and lithe like her brother. Naevia looking back at her mother with those big, innocent round eyes. Short and round like her mother. And then Vel. Vel … something ancient stirred inside Cassia as she gazed at him. It was the mother’s love that had always been there since his first days. But something more wild moved inside her, too. A vertical line formed on Cassia’s forehead as she tried to place that feeling. She couldn’t do it. “I do not mean to bring you all down.” She stood, not looking over at the other person sitting with the family. The sorceress.

“Wait.” Bantia stood too, as her mother moved toward the exit. She quickly followed and bent down to take Cassia’s hand. “I’ll go with you.” The pair left the warmth of the dining room.

“Goodnight, you two.” Vel called after them. Such a strange day. He shifted in his seat. An aching made itself known between his legs. He knew he would have to relieve himself again. And soon. He stood, adjusting his robes. “I’m tired myself. Goodnight, Naevia.” He smiled at his sister. “Goodnight, Sorceress.” He nodded to Brynhild, wondering if maybe he should confide in her his new condition. Her power might be limited as magic drained out of the world, but she did seem to have some tricks left. She might be of help.

“Not so fast, Vel.” Naevia stood and looked up at her brother. His posture was the same, his face the same, his eyes the same stormy blue they’d always been. He looked every bit the teenager he was. But also, he didn’t. There was something more compelling about him. “We haven’t seen each other all day. Would you have a few moments for me? I very much would like …” She touched his arm as she spoke and lost her train of thought. A tingling warmth spread from her fingertips down her arm. For some unknown reason, butterflies flapped in her belly. “… to talk.”

Uncomfortable as he was, Vel couldn’t say no to Naevia. His cock would just have to wait a few hours more. They held hands, as they often did, as they walked out of the room.

Behind Brynhild the fire roared. She nodded to herself as the servants moved in to remove their dishes. The wind was wise. Things were already in motion. She made a fist with her left hand where the powder had touched her skin. Her palm throbbed and tingled with warmth. How odd.

~~

The library stood at the top of the east tower. The stairs spiraled up and up to reach it. The rooms up there had once been part of a fortification, but the previous lineage of dukes had not seen a need for defense. Of course, that was one of their failings.

“Let me read to you.” Naevia let go of Vel’s hand as they entered the library and walked off to fetch a book. The warmth in her arm lingered. The library shelves went up several levels, with platforms and ladders to help browsers find their ***********ion. But Naevia knew what she wanted. A tome on a lower shelf. She retrieved it and on her way back she closed the library door. It didn’t matter. Vel and Naevia were usually the only ones interested in reading. “The Beating Heart of Elltreus.”

“Ugh. A romance?” Vel sat on the sofa, removed his sandals, and kicked his feet up sideways. He watched his sister jump up with him and sit with her legs perpendicular to his, her knees bridging over his thighs. She opened the book, bit her lip as she searched for the right chapter, and then flipped the brittle old pages. Much to his horror, Vel felt his cock rise as the bottoms of her curving thighs rubbed against the tops of his. He should have excused himself before this for some relief. But it would be okay. His robes would conceal him.

Naevia read, but her mind was elsewhere. She was intensely aware of the heat rising up from her brother. Something was definitely happening. It was like the night before the Liberalia Festival the year she’d come of age. Her tummy churned with pure excitement. But she didn’t know why. It was the same old brother below her. After a while, she became aware that the book had turned racy. As a man escorted a woman toward a protected glade in the story, her vagina gushed. Why had the story affected her so? One hand left the book and settled on her brother’s thigh. She gasped and put down the book.

“What’s wrong?” Vel had been trying to think of his favorite ball game, Harpastum, to ignore the aching in his balls and what felt like a massive erection. When she dropped the book, he looked down. His mouth dropped when he saw that his robes looked like a tent. Apparently, there was no hiding his cock anymore. He looked up to Naevia’s wide eyes and saw that, never the fool, she’d noticed his cock, too.

“I’ve … been thinking.” Naevia gripped his thigh tighter. Nothing had ever made her feel how she felt at the sight of the outline of that thing under Vel’s robes. “If you … um … need to bed a woman as part of some … noble duties, would you know what to do?” The book slid off her lap and hit the tile floor with a thud. The torches guttered in their sconces as a breeze moved through the library. “I mean … I have no formal training. I’ve kissed boys … and fooled around some …” She leaned closer to him and reached for the fasteners on his robes.

“Naevia … don’t …” Vel’s lungs burned as he held his breath. He watched her fingers work on his clothes, and her pretty face go limp.

“If I can help you, Vel. If I can … oh, my.” She spread his robes wide and found the thing pressed against his tunic. There was a wet spot on the fabric above where the head pulsed. She could see the thing bounce slightly to Vel’s heartbeat. He offered no further protest, so she lifted the tunic. “Oh gods, Vel. It’s beautiful.” The head curved out quickly to its flange and was an intense, pinkish red. Clear fluid slowly leaked from the top. The shaft was long and thick, crisscrossed with purplish veins. She could see the whole thing move with Vel’s heart. “What should I do with it?” Her hands moved toward it, but stopped and rested on his hips instead of doing what her impulses commanded.

“The gods wouldn’t … I mean, can you imagine if our poor mother saw us?” He couldn’t think straight. The aching intensified. He needed release, and Naevia, with her freckles, innocent green eyes, and adoring expression, was the most beautiful thing in the world. “What do you want to do?” He watched her pale hands inch toward his cock.

“I’ll just touch it. I know how to do that.” Her hands felt so small as she ran her fingernails gently over his veins. Little shocks of electricity nearly made her cry out. She then wrapped her fingers as far round the thing as they’d go and pumped him. She could fit both hands easily on the shaft with room for a third, and maybe even a fourth. “This is a leviathan, Vel,” she whispered. Her hands became slick with his fluid and she now noticed the wet sounds they made in that vast circular room.

“Is my cock … so … odd?” Looking down at her work, he barely recognized his sweet sister or his cock. His penis had always been a long, pale slender thing. Now it was both colorful and fat.

“Yes,” Naevia breathed. She glanced up at his face and saw concern mixed with pleasure there. Her body vibrated with the knowledge that she was giving him this pleasure. Even if he was her brother, she wanted to be the one to do this for him. She had always been tightly tied to his happiness. “I mean … I’ve seen a few and they were like yours. But much … less so … if that makes sense.” She smiled when he nodded and his face eased into something that looked like pure elation. “Are you close?” Her hands pumped harder. “I want to make you do it, Vel. With my hands. In my hands.” She looked down at his swollen balls. They seemed an order of magnitude bigger than those of anyone else she’d fooled around with.

“I want that, too. Oh … Naevia … your hands are … perfect … but I’m not yet close.” He leaned back on the sofa, his head propped on a pillow so that he could watch her work. Her stola was modest, but he found himself watching the slight jiggle of her boobs under the fabric as her thin arms worked him hard.

“Well, then …” A smile crept onto her pink lips. “I shall redouble my efforts, Your Grace.” She said it with a playful, sarcastic lilt. Mighty cock or not, this was still her gentle Vel. And she did enjoy ribbing him from time to time. Even with her hands on him, it seemed.

Naevia worked him for a long time. Her arms grew tired, but she persisted out of sheer joy and dedication. She needed to see him explode.

“Perhaps … your mouth … Naevia?” Vel was beside himself with pleasure. He wanted the moment to go on into eternity, but he also wanted to reach the ecstatic promise of the end.

She glanced up into his eyes, cocked her head at him like he was crazy, and then looked back down at the pinkish head. An awful lot of that clear precum leaked out of him. Did she really want to touch that stuff with her tongue? Her pussy turned from a spring to a geyser at the thought. “Maybe … just … a little.” She stopped pumping, held him fast, and licked along the curve of his head. It was salty, pungent, and delightful. Her hands resumed pumping, and she licked again and again. If the Naevia of yesterday could have seen herself twenty-four hours later she would have fainted, she thought. Then she realized Fortinbras had been right about them after all. But she pushed that thought far away. “Finish for me … Vel. I want to feel it … please,” she said between licks.

“I’m … close.” Vel’s whole body tensed. He gripped the cushions tightly. He watched his beautiful sister lean back from his cock, but continue her pumping. He knew she wouldn’t want to get covered in his stuff, but still he was disappointed she wasn’t closer to receive at least some of his cum. “Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhh.”

“Oh, my.” Naevia had thought she was safe at arm’s length, but the eruption, like the rest of Vel, far surpassed her experience with men. Long white ropes shot into the air again and again. The hot, salty stuff landed on her arms, on her stola, and her face. She closed her eyes and let it fall. She had never felt closer to anyone than she did as she let Vel cover her with his stuff. It was a while before he finished, but eventually he quieted, although he was still hard in her hands. She marveled at that, but released him and wiped at her eyes. When she’d cleaned them enough, she opened her eyelids and was greeted by the happiest smile she’d ever seen. She beamed back at Vel. “You’ve made a mess of me.”

“Oh … sorry.” Vel’s smile faded.

“No, silly.” She wiped the stuff from her nose and upper lip. She could taste the salt on her lips. “It’s okay. I mean … it’s not okay. But …” She searched for some way to fit this into the general contours of the world she knew. “But was this helpful for you? In case you should need to please a woman?” Her face fell a little. “Or, I mean, let her please you?”

“Very helpful, yes.” Vel nodded his head earnestly.

“Okay … okay …” She looked around, getting her bearings. “Okay, I’m going to race to the bath.”

Vel realized the problem. What a shocking scandal should anyone see her. And she had such a long way to go. “How can I help?”

“Clean up here.” Naevia stood on shaky legs and tried not to touch anything. She trotted to the door and stopped. “And never tell anyone about this.”

“Of course. Goodnight, Naevia.” He watched her round, shapely backside swish away in her stola. Vel leaned back and exhaled. Crazy on top of crazy. Something had clearly been done to him, and Vel was no fool. He would confront the sorceress as soon as he had a chance. In the meantime, he needed to clean the evidence of his misdeeds with his sister.

~~

The Port Syndicate stood in a line in the duke’s reception room. Seven bulky men in stained tunics making their case for control of the fifth pier. Vel sat on the olivewood seat that had been his brother’s and father’s not long ago. The chair was intricately carved with kraken, ships, and giant stingrays. To his left sat the duchess, his mother. She poked him when it looked like he might doze off. The lead man for the syndicate drawled on and on about ancient dockside rights and precedence.

Vel’s head lifted when a servant raced in carrying a roll of papyrus. The syndicate man stopped his petition and turned to look. The servant delivered the roll to Cassia, bowed, and stood by.

“Who delivered this?” Cassia examined the seal. It looked very much like a crude rendering of the Tullius sign of cephalopod and spear. She showed the wax mark to her son.

“It came by pigeon moments ago, Your Grace.” The servant looked at the ground, her dark hair shielding her face.

“We have heard your words and will consider the matter of the fifth pier closely,” Cassia’s brow knitted as she stared at the seal.

“But, Your Grace …" One of the syndicate men started in again but no one listened.

Vel let the man drone on. He looked over at the concerned look on his mother’s face as she broke the seal. He looked back to the men. It was clear Vel needed to say something. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but we have heard enough today. You will have our … I mean, my answer soon. Now, excuse us.”

The men bowed grumpily and left the room. With a nod the servant followed them.

When they were alone, Vel turned back to his mother. He stood immediately when he saw the tears had returned to her eyes as she read. He put his hand on her trembling shoulder. “What is it?”

“Your father, Vel.” Cassia looked up at her gentle son with her soft, brown eyes. “He’s alive. He’s alive and hiding in Kart Hadasht.”

Vel slumped back into his carved chair. Was the seat still his? He could see the joy on his mother’s face. This was good. Maybe he wouldn’t have to be a duke after all. A smile spread on his face, too.

 

Chapter 3

The protective spells were supposed to guard Brynhild’s sleep. A triangle of futhark runes were set into her headboard, taming all of the remaining magic of the world that would seek her out in her most vulnerable state. Nonetheless, the sorceress tossed and turned in her feather bed, muttering in her sleep. The cold, stone chamber was still and quiet despite the open windows.

In her dreams, a mighty giant thrust her left hand into a fire. The flames consumed her, but the heat concentrated on her small breasts and slim hips. A demon then burned her alive. With a start, Brynhild woke and sat up in bed. She clutched the blankets to her chest. Her chest … something was wrong. Slowly, she turned her bright, blue eyes down. Her bosom expanded out from her ribs in a way it never had before. A warmth beat a steady rhythm in her left palm as she slowly lowered the blankets. “What is this sorcery?” Her breasts now stood out proudly, with just a hint of obedience to gravity. Her white flesh was expansive, with protruding pink nipples jutting out.

Lowering the blankets further, she saw that her hips were now wide and round. Her jaw fell in horror. She held out her left hand and looked at the skin that had touched that dust. “You did this to me,” she said to the absent wind. “I spent centuries beguiling with my Northern looks, and you’ve turned me into a common breeding sow.” The thought disgusted her. She would have to conjure some old magic to bring herself back to the body she knew. But in the meantime … she couldn’t help … touching herself. The throbbing hand slid down between her legs and her cries filled the formerly peaceful room.

~~

“I know you’ve done something.” Vel entered Brynhild’s chamber without knocking. “After I asked … I mean, commanded you to cease with your sorcery, you’ve turned me into a monster.” He addressed the room without discrimination, spotted her leaning over a table, and turned to face her. “And you’ve donned a traveling cloak. Meaning to depart? You’ve turned me against my sister and now you will run?”

“If I understand your meaning, we are both victims of the same plot.” She turned away from the book which she’d been fruitlessly searching, stood upright, and faced her duke.

“Speak plainly. What …?” But some of the bile left Vel when he saw the pain on her face.

“I wear this cloak not for travel, but for disguise.” Brynhild unclasped the cloak and let it fall. “Behold, I now have the body of a whore.” Her normal dress wouldn’t fit her now, so she wore an ill-fitting stola that would have been much too small for her even before the changes of the night before. She watched his eyes as they roved her body in confusion.

“You’re … much bigger … in certain places.” Vel tried with measured success to keep his cock still. The woman before him looked less like the severe sorceress he knew, and more like the goddess of fertility.

“Your Grace looks much the same as before. Why did you think I’d turned you into a monster?” In shame, she covered herself with the cloak again. Her left hand throbbed with more intensity at his proximity. “And is your sister well?”

“Yes … yes … my sister is well.” It had taken Vel two days to gather the courage to confront Brynhild. In that time, he and Naevia had avoided each other. An unprecedented parting for the two inseparable siblings. “I … my … I see you have your hands full.” He winced at the unintended double meaning. “My problem is nothing. I have to go.”

“Very well, Your Grace.” Brynhild watched him go. She didn’t even try to entice him to stay. Would she even know how to use her sow’s body? She turned back to the book. There must be something she could do. The wind, of course, would not answer her questions. It was probably off laughing at her plight.

~~

“I must sail across the Inland Sea.” Cassia frowned at her children. Naevia and Vel sat on opposite sides of the council chamber. Obviously, Cassia noticed that they’d had some kind of falling out. Bantia sat between them with a look of shock on her face. Her daughters had just learned that their father was alive. “I will go to Kart Hadasht, find him, and bring Gallio home.”

“So, I am not the duke?” Vel’s whole body relaxed. His father would be home soon, and everything would return to normal.

“You must stay duke until your father returns.” Cassia thought things over. “This is a very unusual situation.”

“What did the letter say?” Bantia leaned forward across the circular table. “Exactly, I mean.”

Cassia reached into the pocket of her stola and withdrew the papyrus scroll. She handed it to her daughter. Bantia unrolled it, eyed the locked door, and then read aloud to her family. “My dearest Cassia. I have been blown far afield. You may find me in Kart Hadasht if you look, but it is a dangerous voyage and I urge you to remain at home. I trust our lands are well looked after by Fortinbras. When it is safe, I will fly home to you. Until then, I remain your flame in the wind. With undying love, your husband, Gallio.” Tears fell down Bantia’s cheeks. When she looked up, she saw that her sister and mother were crying, too. But her brother was all smiles. “What are you grinning at, Vel?” She frowned at him.

“What are you crying at?” Vel couldn’t wipe the grin off his face. “Our father is alive and will soon be home.”

“I only gathered the first part from the letter.” Naevia didn’t look at her brother as she spoke. She still couldn’t believe she had handled him in that unspeakable way and the shame of it bore its way through her. “It sounds like he has no intention of coming home. Did he flee with a woman?”

“Naevia!” Cassia put a hand to her breast in shock. “How can you say such a thing? The bonds between your father and I were forged by the gods. They are unbreakable. He has had some misadventure, and I will go to him.”

“Did the letter not say that it would be a dangerous trip to Kart Hadasht?” Bantia looked back down at the fragile papyrus in her hand.

“Nonsense, it’s but three days sail.” Cassia shook her head.

“I don’t think that’s what the letter meant.” Naevia scowled and regarded her pale, freckled hands.

A knock sounded on the door. Bantia handed the letter back to her mother who tucked it back into her stola. Vel stood, unlocked the door, and regarded the seneschal. “Yes?”

“Forgive me, Your Grace.” The seneschal, Aulus, bowed his head. “But you have a visitor.”

“Who is it, Aulus?” Cassia wiped the tears from her eyes.

“Dellia Bellius,” Aulus said.

“Our cousin is here?” Vel looked around the table. Smiles sprouted in the room like conidia flowers after a rain. “We haven’t seen her in ages. Does she bring her whole family?”

“Just her.” Aulus looked around the room. “What would you have me do?”

“Make her comfortable. We’ll be there shortly.” Cassia stood. “We’ll discuss the other thing later,” she said to her children. But she realized she had said it to Aulus only, standing by himself. Vel, Naevia, and Bantia had already pushed past him and raced out the door.

~~

“Ho, hey, it’s a crash of Tulliuses.” Dellia had not yet dismounted her horse when she spotted her family racing across the upper courtyard. Her lorica squamata moved like dragon scale and glinted gold in the sun as she kicked her leg and jumped from the steed. Dellia was tall for a woman of the Surround, but still much shorter than two of her cousins. She held her arms out and Naevia and Bantia embraced her.

“What a surprise.” Naevia squeezed her cousin’s metal scales. “Are you well?” She and Bantia let go and stepped back to look at her. She did indeed look well. Her olive skin glowed in the morning light, her dark hair tied back in braids, and her brown eyes glowed.

“Well, indeed.” Dellia’s smile was infectious. “What, no hug for your cousin? Now that you’re a big duke, you can’t be seen succumbing to frivolity?” She held her arms out to him.

Thinking of what he’d done to his sister, Vel hung back, but could think of no excuse. “It is very good to see you, Dellia.” He hugged her but made sure to keep from skin to skin contact. Since her head rested on his chest, that was done easily enough. “What brings you to our home?”

“Did your mother not tell you?” Dellia pushed Vel away roughly and punched him gently on his scrawny chest. “Your mother sent a pigeon to mine bearing excellent news. But she needed an opinion from one who knows the queens regent. And thus, my mother and father sent me with information. I am much more reliable than a pigeon, see. Much harder to intercept.” She patted the sword at her hip.

“And much prettier.” Naevia’s face brightened for the first time in days.

“Thank you, cousin.” Dellia turned and regarded Naevia’s flowing copper hair. “Though not as pretty as you, I’d say. Not by a long shot.” She gave Naevia a friendly shove with her hip. “Now then, get me inside and let’s get this message out of me.” She had always been the oldest of the cousins, now at twenty-seven years, and was used to ordering them around. This was a hard habit to break, even if one of them was now the Duke of Ostia Novus.

~~

“My father, or I should say, Lord Bellius, has his contacts in the royal palace.” Dellia looked about the round room. She was not familiar with this council chamber, but she supposed it was meant to be out of a mold. A room made to indicate a kindred power shared with Accipiter Cubitum Palace. Although, since there was no longer a council at the palace, did they still have need of such a chamber? Dellia supposed the queens might use the room for storage now. She rolled her shoulders, enjoying the pregnant pause as everyone waited for her words. It felt quite good to remove her chest band and armor. She often cursed the heavy, cumbersome breasts she’d inherited from her mother. This was one such moment. “Lord Bellius can confirm that Uncle Gallio, or … um … the duke …” She glanced at her cousin, Vel. “… or former duke, Gallio Tullius, is wanted by the Vulpes.”

Cassia’s face blanched at this. The room erupted in overlapping questions.

“Why?”

“How have we not heard of this?”

“Is he in trouble?”

“If it’s the Vulpes, are we all in danger?”

Cassia held her hand up for calm, but her arm trembled. The people around the table quieted. “Please, tell us all that Lord Bellius knows.”

After a while, Dellia finished her story. “That is why you cannot go to him, Cassia. While they suspect you, they believe Vel is loyal to the crown.”

“You say crown, but I feel like the monarchy is actually more carefully described as crowns,” Naevia said. “They could simply remove regent from their titles and all would be the same.”

“Don’t be a fool. Do you want to get us all killed?” Bantia looked at her sister with wide eyes.

“Yes, even in a room secure as this, we should not say such things.” Dellia nodded, her face somber.

Vel stared down at the table, rubbing his fingers against the inlay. This was his chance to remove himself from the mess he’d created with Naevia. Maybe with some time away, things would return to normal on his return. Especially if he brought his father home. “I’ll go and get father.”

“If father could return to us, he would have.” Bantia frowned. “You cannot go and get him. Did you not hear that the secret police are looking for him?”

“Well, then, I’ll go and find him and seek his council. We need to talk to him. Our cousin is right. Pigeons can be intercepted, men not so easily.”

“I’m not so sure. They may not suspect you, Vel, but a sudden trip across the Inland Sea might fetch their eye.” Dellia watched Vel closely. There was something different about him. Something had changed beyond what she’d expect by just the passage of time and title.

“No. We have to go to him. We have to.” Cassia put her hand on her son’s hand, but then quickly withdrew it. Her nerves were surely frayed, because when she touched him, she had felt an odd heat. “Vel will go, but he cannot go alone.” She bit her lip and thought. “I’ll need Bantia here to plan for her wedding. So Naevia, you must travel with your brother to Kart Hadasht.”

Naevia and Vel both protested this immediately, but Cassia held up her hand again. “Please, Your Grace, I cannot force you to do a thing, but as your mother I need you to bring someone who can watch your back. If the Vulpes are truly into this, we don’t know who we can trust. And Naevia’s bow may come in handy.” She looked beseechingly into his eyes. It was not a secret among the family that despite Vel’s height, he was the weakest Tullius at his martial learning. Naevia had taken well to archery.

“Very well.” Vel looked down at his hands again.

Naevia said nothing.

“I would like to also volunteer myself for this voyage.” Dellia sat very straight in her chair. “You can, of course, depend on cousin Naevia and her bow, but my sword might also be trusted in a tight situation.”

“Vel?” Cassia resisted the impulse to place her hand on her son’s hand again.

“Yes.” Vel nodded. This was going to be a web of pitfalls. He hoped it was a large enough boat that he might avoid both women.

“Perhaps also your sorceress would make a useful travel companion. That is, if she has any tricks left,” Dellia said.

“No, family only,” Cassia said quickly. She then paused to think things through. “We’ll give the Port Syndicate the fifth pier as they requested. In return, I’ll ask them to drum up a reason for a duke to cross the Inland Sea. Perhaps the syndicate needs an impartial trade negotiation on the edge of the Torched Lands. Yes?”

Everyone at the table nodded and rose. It was a somber procession out of the room. So unlike their excitement from just a short time before.

~~

For millennia, ships had been built and bound by magic. This allowed for massive vessels and shipbuilders to focus their knowledge on how best to harness the winds, or turn on a coin. But over the past century that magic waned, the boats shrunk, and tended to take on water. Vel stood on the deck, watching a storm overtake them, wishing magic hadn’t been leaking out of the world. The boat was just big enough for his own cabin, but not big enough that he didn’t have to share it with his sister and cousin. As such, he had spent much of the first twenty-four hours above deck.

“Time to head below, Your Grace.” The captain approached the tall duke with appropriate reverence. “Things are about to get a mite choppy.”

“May I stay and watch your crew work?” Vel turned to him and saw the fear in his eyes. He guessed the man wouldn’t want to be responsible for the death of his duke.

“Of course, you may. But for your own safety, and that of my crew …” The captain shrugged.

“I would be in the way. I understand.” Vel slumped his shoulders, turned, and took a step. He stopped when he saw his cousin checking the tackle. He turned back to the captain. “Is she to remain above deck?”

“She knows her way around a ship. We can use all able-bodied hands with that coming.” The captain pointed to the billowing black clouds that closed in on them. “No offense, Your Grace.”

“None taken.” Vel headed below. He wouldn’t want to be responsible for hurting any of the crew. He would face his sister in their cabin. It had to happen sooner or later.

~~

“So, you and the sorceress have been cursed?” Naevia clutched to her cot as the room heaved around her. She stared at her brother across the small cabin as he clutched to his undersized cot. He looked like he was enjoying this even less than she was. That was something, at least.

“Yes.” Vel’s stomach lurched with the room as the ship took another wave. “I didn’t know my touch would make us … you know. Can we forget about it?”

“I know what your stuff smells like. I know what it tastes like.” Naevia crinkled her nose, but it was not actually as unpleasant a memory as she let on. She looked about the room as a book slid across the floor to Vel’s cot. She watched him reach over with his foot and step on it to stop it from sliding back across the room. She was glad for his robes to keep her eyes from trying to search out the lump under his tunic. The ship jerked and a great thump reverberated through the hull. Water dripped steadily through the outer wall of their cabin. “But since we may be about to die. I’ll forget it. Is it safe to touch you now?” The boat shuddered again. All anger left her. She wanted nothing more than to curl in Vel’s gentle arms and hold his hand as they’d always done.

“I’m sorry, Naevia. I don’t think so. I thought this trip would give me some time alone to figure this out. I didn’t intend for you to come.” His face went paler than usual as he watched the increasing trickle of water into their cabin. Small puddles pooled on the floor.

A more powerful jolt ran through the boat. With a scream, Naevia was tossed across the floor. Her cot, now loose from the wall, followed her as the tilt of the room sent her toward the wall several feet from Vel.

“Hang on.” Vel stretched himself out, reached out his hand, and grabbed her by the collar of her stola. He pulled his sister to the safety of his cot just as her cot slammed into the wall where she would have been. The broken cot then slid back toward the other side of the cabin and with the force of the storm, wedged its metal frame into the corner of the wall.

“Thank you.” Naevia found herself in her brother’s arms after all. Even as the storm continued to rage, it seemed the room had settled itself. A quiet fell over her. Warmth spread from the back of her neck where Vel still held her collar and his knuckles pressed into her spine. “I thought I was along on this voyage to watch your back. But you’ve got mine, it seems.”

“I love you, Naevia. I would never let anything happen to you.” Lying on his back on the cot, he looked down at his sister perched on his chest. He held the cot and braced his leg against the far wall, hoping the restraints on his side of the cabin would hold better than hers. “I’m sorry for all the strangeness. We’ll find a way to lift the curse.”

“Curses.” Naevia giggled. “As if such things still existed.”

“You’ve seen what Brynhild could do.” Vel shifted his weight to stay steady as the room moved about him.

“I’ve seen her quiet a horse. Nothing more.”

“You’ve seen my … you know.” Vel willed his hand to move away from the back of her neck, but found he couldn’t release her stola.

“Yes, I have seen it. It really was beautiful, Vel. So much more …” Naevia tensed as another shudder rumbled through the ship. She gripped his bony shoulders tight. “Do you think Dellia is okay up above?”

“She can fight. She can sail. She could challenge the gods to a pissing contest and win. I’m quite sure.” Vel tried desperately to calm his cock, but the churning room moved his sister just enough so that he could feel pressure from her various curves. “She’ll be fine.”

“She’ll be fine.” Naevia nodded and bit her lip. Her body relaxed some. The heat now radiated into the core of her, bringing her closer to her brother. “Can I confess something?”

“Yes,” Vel squeaked. Her face rose just above his. He felt her legs tighten around his sides as she straddled him. Were her hips rocking, or was that just the room? As he hardened, he wondered if he would poke at her. Her hips were centered right over his naval.

“Part of why I’ve been so distant, was that it was so … um … wonderful with you in the library. All my tussles with boys have been awkward. Those men were either needy, or somewhat bellicose.” She felt him finally release her collar and an emptiness filled her. But joy surged when he brushed her cheek lightly with his fingertips and the warmth again returned with his touch. She leaned her head closer to his. “You are not like those other men, Vel. Your penis is a thing of beastly beauty. Forged right out of my dreams. Built for a singular, furrowing purpose.” She whispered these last words in his ear.

“It’s going to happen again.” Vel couldn’t help himself. He braced harder against the heaving room, lifted her stola, and held her bare hips just above her linen underwear.

“I can’t seem to care that it does. Kiss me, Vel.” She planted her lips on his. She could feel his abdomen tense under her thighs as he strove to keep them on his cot. Her hips moved back and forth ever so slightly. Between her legs, she felt nearly as wet as their cabin. She felt him tentatively push back with his lips, and then her tongue was in his mouth. She didn’t know if she felt closer like this, or when she had accepted his spray in the library. Her whole body thrummed like a taut bowstring. They kissed as would newlywed lovebirds despite the ship going to hell around them.

After a while, Naevia became aware that something poked at her backside over and over. Her eyes opened and she broke their kiss. “Are you really hard enough to push at my ass like that?” She smiled at him.

“I can’t help it.” Vel knew his own smile must look nearly idiotic. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, Naevia.”

“Well, in that case. I suppose you can just take what you want, Your Grace.” Her freckled cheeks dimpled as she laughed and looked down at him with adoration. “Do you want me to help you again?”

“I do. But only if you promise not to get mad at me afterwards. It’s been constant torment these past days with the way you’ve looked at me.”

“Oh, my poor little sparrow.” She kissed his cheek and slowly turned around on his chest, careful to hold on tight to his robes lest she go sliding across the cabin again. “I promise I won’t be mad. I was a fool to try and deny us this. We can make it work.” She finished her maneuvers so that her ankles were on either side of his ears, and her face hovered above his tent. She parted his robes and lifted his tunic. “My, my, my. It’s more beautiful than I remembered.” She took a firm grip of the shaft with both hands, confident that Vel would not let her go as she felt his hands return to her hips and slide over to her butt. When his fingers pressed into her flesh, she could feel how much he truly wanted her. Her heart melted at that, and without thinking she lowered her mouth to the crimson head and licked away the salty fluid that dribbled out. Soon, her head bobbed. He really was unlike anyone else she’d been with, or even seen. Try as she might, she couldn’t get much more than the head into her mouth.

Other than the constant strain to keep them from being thrown about the cabin, Vel was smitten by the moment. His beautiful sister, who had always shared his heart, was giving him the gift of flesh to go with her soul. He could smell the salty water as it seeped through the ship’s outer plating. But also, he could smell something earthy, pungent, and compelling. He had never before smelled its like. “How are you … so good at this?”

Naevia popped him out of her mouth and stroked the fat thing with her hands. Without a grip on the cot, she relied on Vel to keep her in place. “I’ve done this before … but not with anything like yours, Vel. You’re such a gentle brother, but this thing looks almost angry. Just the sight of it quells my insides.” She tried to look for his face over her shoulder, but he was hidden by the curve of her butt and her bunched underwear. “If you like it so much, return the favor.” The boat gave a great shudder again, but she paid it no mind.

“You want me to …?” Vel wondered at that thought. Did men really put their mouths down there? Without thinking he pulled at her underwear and she lifted a leg to help him get them off. He could now see the bottom of her pussy lips, glistening and open like a flower. A compelling, bright pink invited him from inside. He felt he’d been summoned to a magnificent secret garden. And he never wanted to leave.

“Yes, I want you to. We’ve always done everything together. We should do this together. Mmmmpppphhhh.” She lowered her mouth back onto him. She didn’t bother with further argument because she knew he’d have the courage to taste her.

“Like this?” Vel lifted his head a little and pressed his fingers harder into the flesh of her ass. He licked. It tasted tangy and wonderful. A flavor not unlike the coveted fruits that sometimes arrived over the Roads of Trade. He licked again and soon he was lapping away at her like an eager puppy. Her moans around his cock gave him all the more incentive. “You taste … of ambrosia … Naevia.” She pressed her pussy down onto his face in response. He could feel her thighs tremble.

Naevia spit out the cock and rested her chin at its base. The thing rose up next to her, longer than her head. She let go of the shaft and gripped his hips. “Oh, gods. No one … ooooohhhhhhh … has ever done … that to meeeeeeeeee.” She screamed out the best climax of her eighteen years. Lost in a haze, her mind didn’t register the thin bulwark of the boat. It didn’t matter, the storm drowned out her cries of pleasure. When she’d returned to herself, her pussy still spasming, she went right back to work on her big brother. Pumping him and sucking him as best she could. She let his moans guide her work. She quickly learned to use less teeth, more tongue, and a solid squeeze with her hands.

Nearly delirious, Vel ceased his efforts on the vagina before him and leaned his head back on the cot. She was a master and he was her canvas. The ship had quieted some, but continued to heave. Vel released his grip. The siblings fell off the cot and into the water, now a couple inches deep, on the floor. With Vel on his back and Naevia working furiously on his midsection, they slid across the room. The room moved not quite as violently as before, so, they merely splashed up against the wall, and then slid back. They were both oblivious to their travels.

“Mmmppppphhhhh.” Naevia wanted nothing more than to cause his release. She was even ready to drink the life that would come out of him. Something she’d never done for any man before. The sea might be intent on drowning her that day. But she would rather drown on his seed. Her mind was now singularly focused on it.

As they slid back and forth, Vel felt his balls churn. “Careful … ugh … Naevia. Careful … it’s close.” He remembered how she had tried to avoid his cum the last time and wanted to give her the opportunity again. But truth be told, he hoped she would continue. He had drunk from her as he’d tasted her juices. He wanted to complete the circle and have her drink him. She was right, they had always done everything together. Why not this? “It’s … ah … happening.” He pressed his fingers tighter into her flesh. Water splashed all around him as they slid. He unloaded down her throat. “Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh.” He could hear her gulping, and then gagging, and then his brain could process no more. Ecstasy enveloped him.

“Gggghhhh … ggggghhhhh …” Naevia tried her best to drink his stuff. But there was too much and it came out of him too forcefully. She swallowed a little and then was forced to spit him out. She leaned back and watched him spurt into the air, his cum falling down into the water as they slid back toward his cot. He was so potent. All the other men she’d been with had been kindling and he was a roaring fire. “My sweet Vel. Let it out. Yeesssssssss.” She licked her lips. His saltiness combined with the sea on her tongue. She reached out and grabbed his cot when they bumped into it and held them there so they slid no more. When he finished groaning and spraying, she leaned forward and licked the crimson head clean. She then turned herself around to face him. Her hair hung wet and limp around her face, and his hair nearly covered his. “I am not enamored of this look.” A small crooked smile tugged at her pink lips. Still holding the cot with one hand, she pushed his blond hair out of his face with the other. She was greeted by Vel’s biggest, and stupidest smile. Her own grin turned from a torch to a bonfire. “You’re smiling like an idiot, Vel.” She kissed his cheek.

“How can I help it?” Vel looked up into her deep green eyes, and studied her freckled face. She had water and cum all over her. “What a vision you are.”

“Yes, I’m sure I’ve never looked better.” But her smile persisted. “We should clean ourselves before cousin Dellia returns from her above deck duties. We wouldn’t want to give her a heart attack.” She reached next to them and splashed her hand in the water. “It seems I won’t have to run to the bath this time.” She laughed hard at the sheer joy and absurdity of what they’d done.

“Yes, the storm has lessened.” Vel felt the pull of each wave as the cabin rocked, but it was just a shadow of what it had been just a little while before. He reached into the water, scooped a handful, and splashed it on her face.

“Hey, watch it, big guy.” Naevia laughed harder, scooped some water herself, and splashed Vel in the face. Both, cackling like idiots, now splashed each other and pushed and shoved. A water war like they’d had often enough in the gardens back home. But this time, it ended with Naevia’s mouth distorted around his bloated cockhead again.

While Vel sat on the cot, Naevia brought him to another climax, her knees under water on the floor. She did no better drinking him than she’d done before. But it was easy enough to clean up afterward.

~~

Dellia opened the door and stumbled into her cabin. Her feet splashed through several inches of water and kicked a bit of floating debris. “I am … beyond exhausted.” She looked over to Naevia’s cot, crumpled and jammed in a corner, and then back to Vel’s cot where her cousins lay curled together. Their clothes were soaked through and they lay spooned, with Vel’s arm around his sister. “You two look more haggard than I feel. What happened here?” Dellia waved an arm at the crumpled cot and splashed her way to her own hammock in the far corner.

“We rode out the storm.” Naevia opened her eyes and looked up at Dellia. The woman looked like she’d just spent a day wresting lions. “Things were turbulent down here.” Naevia giggled. And then Vel stifled a laugh behind her.

“I am so happy you two find amusement out of almost joining Neptune at his palace.” Dellia wanted to grumble, but she smiled despite herself. “We’ve been blown off course.” She stretched out her body in the hammock and rested her head on a rolled tunic. “Add at least another day to our journey.” She yawned.

Vel squeezed his sister at this. Was it a blessing or curse to be trapped at sea together for more time? “Is everyone okay on deck? Did we lose anyone?”

But Dellia only snored in response.

“Vel, don’t,” Naevia scolded. She moved his hands from where they crept above her stola toward her breasts. “We’ll get caught.”

“I almost don’t care.” Vel sighed. He pushed his hardness into her backside and felt her wiggle back at him.

“I care. The gods would sever our limbs and feed us bit by bit to the gulls if they knew.” She squeezed his hand, holding it firmly above her stomach. The warmth spread through her. “And people of the Surround would be even less kind. Ostia Novus would be in need of another duke. Let’s focus on finding Father, and we can play when we return home. Would another trip to the library suit you?”

“Yes, Naevia. Your counsel is wise. As always, I’m glad to have you by my side.” Vel squeezed her and vowed never to let go. The ship gently rocked, and the drenched siblings drifted off to sleep.

 

Chapter 4

“Do you two always sleep so soundly?” Dellia shook Naevia’s arm. Her cousin’s stola was no longer soaked through, but still moist to the touch. The water on the floor of their cabin had drained away, hopefully finding the pumps down below. The ship listed to starboard, but not badly. “Wake up.” She punched Vel in the shoulder. Her cousins were still cuddled together. The comfort they seemed to find in each other’s arms needled at Dellia a little. She had never had siblings, and wondered if she was missing out. Then she thought of Fortinbras, shuddered, and decided it wasn’t a die she wanted cast.

“Is it breakfast?” Naevia opened her eyes. Pale sunshine angled to the battered floor from the round, dingy window. Feeling her brother’s arm around her, she snuggled back in. Warmth radiated from him all along her back.

“I don’t know about breakfast. But I was going to check on our luggage. I hope our pigeons have not drowned.” Dellia stretched out her arms with a yawn. “Do you want to come with me?”

“What?” Vel opened his eyes, realized that his sister was still in his arms and that his cousin hovered over them. He sat up quickly. “Yes, yes. I’ll help check our things.”

“Whoa.” Dellia turned her head in a show of giving him his modesty, but her eyes crept back to look at the tent in his robes. She had heard that those of giant blood were bigger than men of the Surround. “Your Grace may want to give himself a minute to settle before leaving the cabin. You could take a person’s eye out with that thing. I strongly doubt any sailors want to be accidently foisted on the end of your spear, Cousin. What say you, Naevia?”

“Oh. Oh, my.” Naevia’s pale cheeks turned red. She jumped up from the cot. “I would not be stabbed. No, never. I … we only slept like that because … well … my cot.” She pointed to the corner where the crumpled cot was wedged.

Dellia laughed with good nature. “Of course, Cousin. I would never dream that you two would … well … never mind.” She glanced back at Vel, and laughed harder when she saw how mortified the lad was. “I hope the presence of my feminine form does not cause your condition to linger.”

“No … it’s only … it’s morning … I’m sorry.” Vel turned his hips sideways, trying to hide his hardness.

“You look like you’ve been bitten by an adder.” Dellia held up her left hand and pointed at the iron ring on her finger. “Do you think I do not know the strange and involuntary habits of a man’s body? My husband has a similar morning affliction. Though, perhaps, not quite on the same magnitude.”

“Your husband. How is he?” Vel wanted Dellia to leave, but couldn’t tell her directly.

“Changing the subject, are we?” Dellia smiled. “He has new work from the crown, actually. But you would find it all quite boring.” She put her hand on Naevia’s shoulder. “Come, let us make our way to the holds. We’ll give your brother time on his own without the torment of the feminine species. Perhaps then he can calm himself.” She led Naevia to the door.

Naevia looked back at Vel and gave him a look to apologize for leaving him. She didn’t want him to think she was angry again. She caught his eye and then they were out the door and into the corridor.

~~

How odd a thing it was to make preparations for a wedding in the midst of all that chaos. Cassia’s family had been in Ostia Novus for centuries. She wondered if there had ever been a wife and mother among all those merchant families that had a similar tempest spring so suddenly in their lives. She shook her head and leaned back in the velvet chair. Maybe. She watched Bantia stand with her chest strap and elegant linen underwear as the seamstress measured her on the other side of the room. The woman with the measure had to stand on a stool to do her work properly, and kept clucking her tongue at Bantia’s height.

“I little less complaint, madame. Those are noble measurements you’re taking,” Cassia called across the room.

The seamstress turned toward the duchess and curtsied. “Apologies, I wasn’t aware of my own complaints. Of course, she will cut the perfect figure in her gown when I have finished. She is a beautiful, and very tall, woman.” She curtsied again.

“I don’t mind, Mother.” Bantia smiled over at Cassia. The mood around their home had lifted considerably with Gallio turning up alive and half the family on their way to find him. “She’s about her task.”

“Yes, of course. Carry on.” Cassia nodded. If her daughter was happy, Cassia was happy. And that was just the thing. She had lost her eldest, and that was a hole that would never fill. But she still had her other children, and they had each other. And her husband was a clever man, and he would elude the Vulpes. They would pave things over with the crown, whatever the trouble was. The more she thought about it, the more certain she was that, among her ancestors, she was the lucky one. They all must have faced times harder than what she currently faced. Just like the seamstress, Cassia should not complain. Even to herself.

Cassia settled further into her chair. She smoothed her stola out on her legs and watched her eldest daughter’s fitting. She would be married soon to a fine man of noble birth. She hoped they would find Naevia a man just as fine. She imagined having grandchildren around the castle and smiled.

~~

“There you are.” Vel heaved a sigh of relief when he saw Naevia hurrying toward him. He had to stoop to walk in the ship’s corridor, which made his progress slow. But his sister had room to spare above her head.

“I’m sorry,” Naevia said in a hushed voice as she lifted herself on her tiptoes to embrace him. Then she held him at arm’s length to get a good look at him. He seemed more handsome every time her gaze was lucky enough to fall on him. “Dellia wanted to check everything. The birds were okay. But some of our cases were not watertight. I came back to you as soon as I thought proper.”

“Of course.” He resisted the urge to kiss her lips and kissed her forehead instead. She was a fresh spring in a barren forest. The lamplight emphasized the angles on her face and her body’s curves. “And where is our good cousin now?”

“Helping the crew? Fighting a kraken?” Naevia shrugged. “The woman cannot live without adventure.” She grasped his hands and felt that now familiar heat move into her. “Is your … um … stiffness … taken care of?” She looked around, but no one was there. The crew were either above deck, at the pumps, or sleeping off the stress of the passed storm. “Do you … need …?” She bit her bottom lip.

“I had to take care of it myself. It wouldn’t go away.” Vel felt some shame in admitting this, but he couldn’t lie to his sweet sister.

“Oh.” Her expression dropped a little. But it was for the best, if they kept at it in the boat, they would get caught. She reminded herself of her promise that they could indulge in more games once they got back to the privacy of their own library.

Vel suddenly turned and pulled on her. “But seeing you now, I feel that I maybe hadn’t done a satisfactory job.” They rushed back to their cabin. “Cousin Dellia should be busy for quite a while, don’t you think?”

“Yes, Vel.” Naevia’s heart threatened to beat out of her chest. The anticipation was almost too much. “I think we have some time.”

An hour later, they stood naked together. Naevia handled that thick pole with both hands. She felt so feminine standing next to him as they were, his penis on level with her breasts. Her small hands, moving quickly over those large, protruding veins. Her brother’s life flowed through those veins, and he had trusted it to her hands. “You are mighty, Vel. So very mighty.”

“Thank you … ah … Naevia.” Vel felt a bit awkward undressing in front of Naevia again. Vel did not have the square shoulders or the muscles of Fortinbras. He had seen the way women fawned over his older brother, and thought that wasn’t to be his destiny. But the way Naevia had looked at him, with the black of her pupils going wide and her mouth hanging open had given him courage. It was obvious that she liked what she saw. He looked down on her. Her freckled boobs shook as her arms worked him hard. His white stuff slowly slid down the slope of her heaving chest. He had cum for her once already, and she was getting him close again. His stuff also dripped from her chin and left cheek. He wanted to delay what he supposed would be his final orgasm with her on that voyage. “I should return the favor, no?”

“What?” She looked up at him in confusion, but gave a little shriek when he lifted her to a standing position on his cot. She lost her grip on his cock, but didn’t reach down for it. It was too far away and his fingers were clumsily exploring her gash. “Oh, I see.” She laughed and reached up to brush his blond hair off his forehead. He was still taller than her even as she stood on the cot. “You are always so thoughtful. Here, not like that.” She reached down to guide his hand. A finger slid in her. “Oh, yes. That’s better. Wait … no … like this.” She showed him what to do. The thought occurred to her that maybe this was too far, especially when their cabin door did not lock. But in for a pinch, in for a pile. “Aaaahhhhhhhhh.” She released his hand. He was doing fine on his own now. “Oh … oh … that feels …” She leaned forward and buried her face in his chest to stifle her screams. It wouldn’t do to bring the whole ship in there. If she let it all out, they would surely think her murdered.

“You’re shaking … Naevia.” Vel now had one finger pumping inside her and the other hand rubbed at her button. She was so warm and wet, he let his finger slide along the ridges hidden within her. He hadn’t expected there to be ridges, but that new knowledge increased the intimacy he felt between them. “You are the most lovely creature.” He removed his hands, reached around to her ass, and lifted her into the air, placing her legs over his shoulders.

“By the gods, Vel. You are … oh … my … ooooohhhhhhhhh.” She felt his mouth go to work on her. He had learned quite a lot the previous day. Her back pressed up against the wall and she had to turn her head sideways as her shoulders bumped the rough ceiling. She stuck her fist in her mouth, shut her eyes tight, and shook out a tremendous orgasm riding her brother’s narrow shoulders. When he lowered her back down to her feet, she leaned forward and eagerly took his angry, scarlet cockhead into her mouth. For the first time, she reached under it and placed her palms on his heavy balls. She couldn’t tell if it was the moment, or his strange anatomy, but they seemed to pulse under her touch. She squeezed them in rhythm with the pulse and bobbed her head on Vel’s penis.

“Naevia … what are you … doing?” He watched her wavy, copper hair sway and looked down at the delicate curve of her back as she stood with her ass sticking out. The swell of her narrow waist out to her wide hips was more than a siren song to Vel.

“Mmmppphhhhh.” Naevia sucked at Vel, still only able to get the giant head inside her mouth. With other boys back home, she had taken almost half their length. But Vel wasn’t other boys.

“The gods … have given me … the best sister … in the Surround.” In his passion, he forgot how the gods would really have felt should they have discovered brother and sister in such a position. “Aaaahhhhhhhhh.” He let it out.

“Gggghhhhhhhhggghhhhhh.” Naevia swallowed what she could, and when it was too much, she gagged and plopped the gushing head out of her mouth. She kept her face near the thing and let him spray her. She could tell it pleased him to see his stuff on her. And she was discovering that she might actually enjoy it as well. Pride surged as those heavy balls contracted in her hands over and over and a warm salty mess covered her. “My Vel. My sweet Vel,” she cooed. When he was done shaking and erupting, she stood up and smiled at him. “I think you produced more the second time.”

“Maybe so … but you looked … so beautiful.” He embraced her and pulled her in tight, the mound of her soft right boob pressing just above his hip. Vel sighed, and his heart slowed. But when the catch on the door sounded, his pulse stopped all together. He released his cum drenched sister, leaned back, and pressed his hand on the door. The creaky door moved into the cabin, but only about an inch.

“Excuse me?” Dellia nearly hit her head on the door when it stopped abruptly in front of her. “Have you fallen asleep against the door, Vel?” She shoved it, but it only moved a little.

“I’m naked … changing … I’m changing in here.” Vel called back. He pushed on the door, but his cousin was strong and it stayed open just a fraction of an inch. “Come back in a little while.”

“I don’t care about your body, Your Grace. When you travel with a person across the Inland Sea, you’re bound to see what the gods gave them. You have nothing that I haven’t seen before.” She pushed at the door again, but it didn’t give.

“Um … I’m still … taking care of … you can’t …” Vel said.

“Oh, I see.” Dellia stopped pushing. “You are still working at the morning steel?”

“Well … um …” Vel squeaked. He looked over at his sister, who stood wide-eyed like a deer in a trap. He couldn’t help but gaze at her lovely breasts. Her puffy pink nipples stood out in the cold room, her small areola looked dark against her pale flesh. Those breasts hung so perfectly on her chest. Vel was still so hard despite the situation. He looked back into her eyes. She nodded as if to tell him to agree with their cousin. Vel shook his head, but said, “Yes … I’m having one of those days. I need a little more time.”

Dellia chuckled and removed her hand from the door. “The joys and torments of youth. Take your time.” She turned and headed back up the corridor. “I’ll go find your sister.”

“Goodness, Vel.” Naevia breathed a sigh of relief and raced into his arms. “I know we said it before, but we have to be more careful.” The familiar heat moved from her brother into her core.

“Yes.” Vel squeezed her. He had never been a risk-taker, but now he was putting his life on the very edge of a precipice. Not to mention his sister’s, and the reputation of his family. “More careful.”

“But you’re still so hard,” she said in a hush. Naevia found her hands returning to that massive organ. “Dellia said she would give you some time.”

“She did.” Vel’s muscles tightened as he watched his sister’s sweet, cum-covered face move closer to his cock.

“I can’t leave you in this state.” She opened wide and sucked hard on that wide head. Her hands pumped him as she worked him with her mouth.

“Oh … gods … Naevia.” Vel leaned back against the wall and let his sister go to work.

When they were done, they cleaned as best they could without water, but knew they were still a mess. The room smelled heavily of their actions. The siblings hoped Dellia would assign the smell to the joys and torments of youth, and think nothing beyond. Luckily for them, that’s exactly what she said when she returned to the cabin a good while later.

~~

With half the family gone and her new deformities to hide, Brynhild took all her meals in her chambers. She had told Cassia that she needed to perform a deep and ancient rite to bring luck to Vel’s voyage. When Cassia had given her approbation, Brynhild detected a hint of an eye roll by the duchess. This disbelief did not disturb the sorceress because, well, there was good reason for skepticism. Over Brynhild’s lifetime magic buildings had crumbled, bridges collapsed, and lost things remained lost.

In her room, she leaned over the small table, reading one of her older volumes. She searched the pages for hints at a transformation that would work. To her left, the dishes from her afternoon meal lay neatly stacked, ready for the scullery servant to fetch them. Outside the window, oranges and purples gave way to the yellowish-gray of twilight. The words became harder to read as the light faded, but Brynhild didn’t want to leave her search even for a moment. She could not abide her new sow’s body.

With a flick of her fingers, a ball of warm light sprung from her left hand and hovered in the air above the book. So intent was she on the page on werewolves, that it took her several minutes to notice what she’d done. She looked up from the book in awe. That lighting spell hadn’t worked since before the fall of the Northern Empire. The light hung before her, giving no heat, but plenty of illumination. She flicked her fingers and it went out. Then, she raised her right hand and made the same gesture. Nothing. The room rested in darkness.

The warmth in her left hand pulsed at her as it had done since she’d held the dust. With a flick of her left pinky and index fingers, she brought the light back. There was magic on the left but not the right. She leaned back and studied the pretty sphere.

A knock on the door brought her out of her reverie. “Come.” Brynhild pulled her cloak more tightly around her and turned toward the door. She let her miraculous light continue to shine above the book.

Merope turned the handle, opened the heavy, oak door, and took a halting step into the room. She hated when her work brought her in the orbit of the sorceress. The strange, platinum-haired woman made the hair on the back of her neck rise. “Your dishes, mistress.” She curtsied without looking up into the sorceress’s cold eyes.

“Very well.” Brynhild watched the small dark woman scurry in. “You’re a new scullery girl, aren’t you?”

Merope stopped dead still at the surprise of an interrogation. She had meant to move into the room and out again as swiftly as the wind. “New, yes. And …” Not wanting to contradict the frightful woman, she pointed to the iron ring on her left hand.

“You mean to say you’re not a girl? A woman married, are you?”

“Yes.” Merope dared to look up at the sorceress. She was taller than any woman had a right to be. Some said she was as tall as the new duke. Merope shuddered to think of what savagery ran rampant in the North where every woman stood as a giant.

“And I suppose your charming husband works here as well?” Brynhild had so isolated herself, that even an inconsequential chat with this small, timid creature was welcome.

“Yes, he … um … my husband … Nicias works with me in the scullery.” Merope had just caught sight of the flaming ball hanging in the air over the table. Her eyes widened. Perhaps this woman still clung to some magic after all.

“Well, married or not, at my age you’re all girls to me.” Brynhild laughed, her smile full of warmth. This small human interaction had diverted her from her troubles and from her new discovery.

“But … you … look younger than me.” It was true, Merope couldn’t judge the woman’s body under her voluminous cloak, but her face looked to be no more than twenty-five. She could tell from the woman’s smile that the inquisition was over and she should carry on with her business. Merope hustled toward the table to take the dishes.

“I get that a lot. It was a gift from my master many years –” Brynhild was cut off as the clumsy scullery servant let a spoon slip from its dish. Both women reached for it as it tumbled toward the floor. The sorceress caught it in her left hand.

Merope, a split second late, closed her hand around the other woman’s hand and the spoon. Warmth spread up her arm and the dishes clanked back to the table. She felt … something unfamiliar. It was … delicious. And hungry. But not the hunger she’d known all her life. This need was nascent to that very second and … murky.

“You can release my hand now, girl.” Brynhild frowned at Merope. The young wife looked like she’d been punctured by Cupid’s arrow. The scullery servant’s eyes half-closed and she leaned her face closer to Brynhild’s. They were both bent over after catching the spoon, so Brynhild did not tower above her. “Release me, girl.”

“What?” Merope’s olive skin blanched. She recoiled and stood up straight. “I … oh … you got the spoon. Good.” And without thinking she turned and ran from the room, leaving the door open behind her.

“You forgot the dishes.” Brynhild called after her, but the girl didn’t reappear. “Very strange.” She straightened and dropped the spoon onto a dish with a clatter. She then turned and strode to the window to think things over. Raising her left hand, she extinguished the light again. In the growing darkness she looked out over the port, taking in the purple water of the Inland Sea at night. A spell had returned to her and Cupid had struck in the span of minutes. She would need to give up on the search for a reversal. At least for a time. First, she had to figure out what in the fire of Hades was happening.

~~

They would wait until returning to Ostia Novus to continue their games. That’s what Vel and Naevia told each other time and again for a day. Then, the plan changed. It was Naevia that first suggested that they might find some privacy in Kart Hadasht. That was a crazy thought, to defy the gods while searching for their good and decent father. Nonetheless, they made a pact to wait for privacy in the new city. But they probably should not have shook on it. For after the warmth spread from Vel’s hand, Naevia changed the plan again. She dragged her brother from their cabin and pulled him, stooping behind her, in search of a place they wouldn’t be disturbed.

That is how, a day out from their destination, Vel found himself seated on a crate with his sister on her knees before him. Vel could hear the cooing of pigeons from somewhere else in the hold. His tunic was up around his chest, his linen undergarment around one ankle, and his robes spread. Naevia sill wore her stola as her head bobbed in his lap.

“Every time … is better … than the last.” Vel touched her magnificent copper curls, but tentatively moved his hand away.

Naevia felt the touch and pulled off him for a moment, her hands still sliding up and down his great length. “I would like that, you know.” She looked up at him with a dreamy smile, a dribble of spit running down her chin.

“What?” Vel was eager to hear the next suggestion. Going down on her had been a miraculous pleasure for both of them, what could be next?

“You could hold on to my hair while I do this for you. Not too hard.” She took one of his big hands and guided it to the back of her head. “Yes, grasp it like that. Wait … too much. Yeah, that’s good. It lets me know that you like it. Show me that – ggggggppppphhhhh.” It seemed her brother was a quick study. He had gently pushed her mouth back onto his cock and set her rhythm with his hand. The cockhead pushed at the back of her throat and she gagged a little, but Vel backed off. After a few seconds, he had measured her depth, and guided her bobbing mouth. Her tongue rolled around the monstrous thing and she delighted in how mismatched in size her mouth was to Vel’s anatomy. It only barely fit, but that tight window was perfection. As he deftly pulled her hair, she remembered their dancing lessons from years ago. Her gentle brother had taken surprisingly well to offering a lead, and with an arm on her back he had twirled her around the hall, both of them laughing. That was back when they were more similar in size.

“I’m close … Naevia.” Vel knew by now how much Naevia enjoyed swallowing those first hot splashes before it overwhelmed her. Nevertheless, he thought it polite to ask, “Where should I … ugh … finish?”

“Uuuuuuupppphhhh.” She pumped harder on the shaft below her mouth, squeezing the spongy flesh tightly.

Vel understood. “Here … it is … Naevia.” He groaned and let loose.

When he was done, Naevia crawled into her brother’s lap, curled up, and sighed. His still-hard penis was tucked against her belly. “I believe in magic less now than before our voyage.” She watched cum drip from her chin onto his pale belly. The boat rocked gently below them and the pigeons cooed.

“Have I not proven my curse?” Vel reached down and absently patted her stola above the curve of her hip.

“Don’t be silly.” She felt the heat come up from him and sink into her being. It was the most natural thing in the world, an extension of what they always were. “We were meant for this, you and I. Our brother Fortinbras surely knew. He said as much. Bantia has hinted at it. Even Mother has stated some displeasure at our … closeness. Are you the only one not to see?”

“I thought it was innocent and natural.”

She looked up at him with disapproval on her cum splattered face. “This is natural. The most natural thing in the world, do you not feel how right this is?” She uncoiled in his lap, lifted her stola past her waist, and sat astride him, his cock sticking up between her legs and bouncing against her belly button with his pulse. She rubbed herself for the first time against the underside of his penis. Her button caught each vein on the way up and down beautifully.

“Yes. It is natural, but … oh … gods,” Vel said.

While rubbing herself, she reached down and placed her hands on his cockhead. She twisted and rubbed with her fingers, using his leftover cum for lubrication.

“You can’t … put it in.” Vel could feel her hot, wet lips slapping at his balls every time she hit bottom.

That brought a shimmer of a smile to her otherwise vacant face. “I am not crazy, Your Grace. I know better than that. My future husband might not believe me … uh … uh … to be a virgin if I was stretched beyond ruin by your … leviathan. Can you … ah … ah … imagine that scandal? Besides … it would … ugh … never fit.” She rubbed herself on him, worked his head, and watched the happiness spread on his face. “I’m going to … ugh …” Her hips moved faster. “Kiss me … or I’ll scream.” She leaned forward and tilted her chin up. They locked lips. His penis now pressed between their bellies. It was a good thing she had her tongue in his mouth, because otherwise the ship would certainly wonder who was screaming bloody murder when her climax took her.

~~

For the first time in days, Brynhild ventured out of her chambers. She was still dressed to hide her body from the world, which was, of course, an oddity for her. It was the women of the Surround that were so modest with their tame stolas. The women of the North were not afraid to be seen. But now she was. No other old spells had returned to her left hand in the hours since she’d conjured her ball of light. But she remained optimistic. For the first time since the wind had tricked her, things looked up.

Brynhild walked through the kitchens, sweeping past the cooks who looked up at her stature and complexion with some modicum of fear. The smells of baking bread and roast venison were pleasant, but not much of a distraction. She found the scullery and poked her head in. A man washed dishes in a sink. Beside him, a large pot of water was coming to a boil.

“Hello there, boy.” Brynhild said this, despite the fact that the man clearly looked older than her. “I’m looking for a woman about this high.” She held her hand to about her navel. “She has dark hair, brown skin, dark eyes, and she’s rather round.”

“Yes, mistress.” Nicias stood still, but his eyes darted back and forth. He tried his best not to stare up into her face. “But … you see … you have described most women from the Surround.”

“She forgot to fetch my dishes last night and they sit there still this morning.” She looked to his left hand and saw the iron ring there. “And she is married.”

“Um … I’m very sorry about your dishes, mistress.” Nicias’s eyes darted more fervently. “I’ll have someone fetch them right away.”

“I don’t care about dishes, little man.” Brynhild moved closer to the man, looking down at him with something akin to anger. But it was of course only a show. She so loved to make people squirm. “Where is that woman?”

“That is my wife, Merope, that you seek.” He stuck out his chest and did the bravest thing in his life. “I am Nicias. If you seek to punish someone, punish me.”

“I seek to punish no one, friend Nicias.” Brynhild finally let her laughter out. “I only wish to speak with her.”

Nicias heaved a huge sigh of relief. “She’s in the bath, cleaning.”

“Thank you.” Brynhild turned and left the scullery, her cloak twirling behind her.

~~

In the prow of the ship, Vel and Naevia stood arm in arm. They watched the tan city rise out of the water as they tacked against the wind. Spires rose up here and there, but most seemed in the middle of construction. Vel knew that the structures were actually in the opposite process. Without magic, the great towering spires of Kart Hadasht could no longer withstand the pressure of standing. But as they crumpled, they were too dangerous to tear down. So, the towers still stood as shadows of what they once were, slowly raining stones back to the earth.

“It is so different from Ostia Novus.” Naevia squeezed his billowing cloak around the small of his back. She did this in what she hoped was a sisterly fashion since they no doubt had many sailors’ eyes on them where they stood. “There is no blue or gray stone. Even the sea is more green than blue here.” She glanced along the lower skyline, watching the buildings that were still in use. “And everything here has curves.”

“It does.” Vel rested his arm loosely around Naevia’s delicate shoulders. He looked down at her and admired the way she looked with her hair flying back in the wind. “It will be good to have a rest in some private room. Don’t you think?”

Naevia grinned, but did not look up at him. Instead, she kept her eyes on the growing city. How odd that the place they would find their father would be the place her and her brother could play their new games without fear of discovery.

“Ho, hey, Tulliuses.” Dellia strode up to them and placed her foot on the taffrail. She wore only a tunic and sandals, but did not seem to care that she looked like a man. “We should ready ourselves. You have no guard but two meek women, cousin.” She looked at Vel with a wry smile that belied the word meek. “And such a dark and foul city will dish out danger with alacrity.”

“The city looks pretty enough to me,” Vel said.

Naevia gave him another squeeze for his naivety. “I look pretty enough, but my arrows do bite.”

“And my husband thinks me pleasant to look at, but there are men who wish they hadn’t met my sword.” Dellia leaned forward, pressing her arms to her knee. “It’s time for armor and weapons. Let’s hope the viscount sends the men he promised. I do not want to carry my own luggage.” With that, she turned, gave Vel a slap on the back, and strode back across the deck.

Vel and Naevia stayed where they were, watching the city in silence, still arm in arm. They had a moment more before readying for the next leg of their journey.



Chapter 5

“I am Tes-amen.” The dark-skinned man looked over the voyagers. They were easy to spot on the docks with the young duke’s height and blond hair. He stuck out like a flaming serpent in the sand. “Our porters will load your things on those elephants over there.” He gestured vaguely behind him. He turned his attention to the women. They were short. One of them was too pale to be of Surround blood. The other was armored like a war rhino. “Good day, ladies.”

“Those are elephants?” Vel looked over at the monstrous creatures as men fitted them with harnesses for the luggage. Despite the strange animals, the odd smells, and the swirling dust everywhere, the bustling port reminded Vel of home. Maybe all ports in the kingdom carried the same energy. “Are we to ride them?”

“No, Your Grace.” Tes-amen bowed humbly. “Elephants are not for riding. We have dragons for that.” A thin smile touched his lips.

“Dragons.” Vel’s eyes widened in alarm.

“He’s joking, Brother.” Naevia hoisted her quiver and looped it over her shoulder, followed by her bow. She lifted her stola and pinned it up at the knees to keep it out of the dust. “There are no more dragons.”

“Careful with those birds.” Dellia scolded a porter holding one of their pigeon cages. “The viscount sends a clown to fetch us?” She strode up to Tes-amen, her lorica squamata clinking and glittering in the morning light. “Do not vex the Duke of Ostia Novus.” She squinted into the man’s face, her hand on her sword hilt.

Tes-amen smiled serenely back at her.

“No, it’s okay.” Vel walked over and put his hand on his cousin’s shoulder, careful to keep his fingers from the bare skin on her neck. He felt very much like he was restraining a guard dog. His mother was wise to send Dellia along. “I like this man’s humor. Come, Tes-amen, lead us to our accommodations.”

“Very well.” Tes-amen turned and a guard of about a dozen men dressed in crimson tunics flanked them as they walked uphill away from the port.

Kart Hadasht brimmed with energy. The lively, organic architecture, joined the snatches of stringed music and omnipresent hum of people. Vel tried his best to not let his mouth hang open as he looked around. They wended their way up cobbled streets that became wider the higher they went. Shops gave way to houses. And then the houses grew larger, with glimpses of fragrant gardens through their arched gates. “Is the guard really necessary? I spy no lone Vulpes ready to swoop down upon us.”

“The Vulpes are in the employ of the queens regent, so they are, of course, welcome in Kart Hadasht. As they would be in Ostia Novus, I’m sure.” Tes-amen looked up at his guest with that thin smile. “And I would not expect to see a lone Vulpes. Has Your Grace not heard? They travel always in pairs.”

Naevia’s interest picked up at this. Sweat dripped off her forehead and stained her stola, but she worked hard to keep up. Huffing and puffing, she said, “Speak more of this. We have little contact with that branch of the crown.”

“It is said that each pair deployed must be married to each other. A man and a woman.” Tes-amen leaned his head toward Naevia and Vel like he relished a bit of gossip. “It is said –”

“Let us not talk of the Vulpes.” Dellia cut in. “No good would come of that. Have you heard from the lost cities to the south?”

“No, the south is nothing but ash and fire.” Tes-amen shook his head sadly.

“I could stand to hear more of the Vulpes.” Vel watched a veiled woman as she looked down at them from a stone veranda. Above them loomed one of the crumbling towers, a ruined building at its feet. Vel swerved ever so slightly away from the tower, knowing that a stone could fall from its heights at any time.

“It is said that the queens regent thought to reorganize the Vulpes, personally.” Tes-amen was clearly happy to provide his font of knowledge. “Loyalty was a problem early on, when the order moved from procurement of supplies to procurement of information. In their inexhaustible wisdom, they found that a married man and woman would better maintain loyalty to each other and the crown.”

They turned a corner and the seven turrets of the city’s fortress came into view.

“Here we are at last.” Dellia turned and looked back toward the water. The city was laid out below them, a puzzle of curves and boxes jumbling down to the sea. “Where are our elephants?”

“They are too big to come the short way. They must go around.” Tes-amen led them forward, his stern crimson-clad guard still close at hand. “Come, the gate is just over here.”

“That … was … the short way?” Naevia huffed and puffed, the strap of her quiver chaffing between her breasts.

“Would you like me to carry you the rest of the way?” Vel smiled down at her. It was nice when he was better than her at something. Apparently, he climbed hills like a champion.

Naevia shot him a mock sour expression.

“Very well. On your own two feet. We will relax in luxury very soon.” Vel looked over to his cousin, who was now engaging Tes-amen on the care of elephants. Too bad, Vel was hoping to learn more about the Vulpes. Maybe later.

~~

“Lovely to see you again, Lord Hostus.” Cassia smiled at the young man as he bowed.

“And you as well, duchess.” Hostus smiled pleasantly at his soon-to-be mother-in-law. “I trust all is well with the Tullius family.”

“Very well.” Cassia didn’t care for the lie, but it was better than the truth.

“Ah, my spring flower.” Hostus turned his gaze on Bantia. She stood by a window overlooking the harbor, every bit the beauty he had been promised. He took her soft hand and kissed it.

“Are you two ready for your garden walk? I will chaperone today.” Cassia, not for the first time, noted their difference in height. Hostus was tall for a man of the Surround, but Bantia was taller by about five inches. Cassia wondered at her family’s strange northern blood. How was it that all but one of her children had inherited the stature of those in the Savage North?

“You are going to chaperone? Can’t one of the servants do it?” Bantia had hoped for a little more privacy with her lover.

“After the wedding you won’t need a chaperone. Or even a mother, I shouldn’t imagine.” Cassia gave a wistful smile and opened the glass double doors out to the courtyard. “Let me have the pleasure of trailing you two. From a respectful distance, of course.”

“Of course.” Hostus bowed to Cassia gallantly and led Bantia out into the fresh air. He looked up at this graceful woman the fates had put in his path. She was perfect for him. He didn’t think Bantia’s height would be a problem at all. He very much looked forward to exploring every inch of her in the near future.

Cassia followed them around for the afternoon, musing on the innocence of youth.

~~

The viscount was not as entertaining as Tes-amen, but he received the travelers and offered them all the resources of Kart Hadasht while the duke carried on his negotiations. After refreshments, the guests were shown to their rooms.

Vel lounged in the bright, airy room looking out at the city from an open window. A knock sounded on the intricately wrought silver door. “Come.”

The door opened and in stepped Naevia wearing a fresh linen stola that looked like it played on the edge of transparent. “What do you think, Vel?” She closed the door behind her and scurried over to close the window. “Is this not a pleasant place?”

“It is very pleasant.” Vel watched her walk, her shape more readily apparent in her new clothes. “Seems a bit much, actually. Elephants, candied dates, gold plumbing. Did you know I have a bath in my chambers?” He waved his hand at the adjoining room where steam billowed out of the doorway.

“I did not know that, Your Grace. You must be a very important person.” She laughed and stopped in the middle of a floral carpet at the foot of the bed. “What are you doing in your dusty clothes?” She pulled gently at the bottom of his cloak and tsked at him.

“I see you’ve found something new to wear.”

“Most of my clothes were damaged by the storm. They smell even more of mold than usual.” She stuck out her hips to the left and the right in a pose for him. “I’m borrowing this stola. Do you like it?”

“It is pretty.” Vel was uncertain how to proceed. He was so used to their games on the ship, but this was a new place, and he found himself shy. “So … where is Dellia?”

“Our cousin is out touring the stable. They have camels here, apparently.” Naevia unclasped the bindings on her brother’s sandals and dropped them to the floor. “I’m not sure I see the attraction for Dellia. Camels are ugly, brooding creatures that would like nothing more than to spit in your face.” She laughed. “Come to think of it, you would get along splendidly with the camels. You have so much in common. But, alas, we need to get you into a bath first.”

A little while later, they sat on opposite benches in the hot, steaming water. Vel could just see his sister’s large boobs bobbing below the surface. He wondered if she could see his hardness, submerged as it was. The way she kept glancing down, he guessed that she could. “So, how do we go about finding Father?”

“Let’s worry about that after our bath.” Naevia slid lower, tilted her head back, and soaked her hair, turning it a darker shade of rust. She looked up at him, her eyes gazing through the steam. “You have me here. We have our privacy. Do our games no longer interest you, Vel?”

“No, no.” He shook his head quickly. “You are the most beautiful thing in this beguiling city. But I feel a bit … unsettled … pursuing our games under the viscount’s roof. Perhaps we should –”

“Stop babbling and kiss me, Vel.” She rose on her bench so that her delicate clavicle just breached the surface. Her pinks lips parted as she waited.

“Yes … yes, of course.” Vel reached his long arm under the water, caught her wrist, and pulled her onto his lap. His rigid penis pressed against the outside of her thigh. He leaned in, drinking in her beauty up until their lips met and his eyelids fluttered closed. Vel was swallowed by a host of sensations. The perfume of the bath surrounded him, the warm comfort of the steamy water soothed him, and the heat of his sister’s small body pressed into his lap and chest. Her fierce tongue played its games and soon he found their hands roving each other’s bodies.

A while later, Naevia bounced on Vel’s lap, rubbing herself on the underside of his cock like she had on their voyage. Little waves splashed out of the bath in time to the movement of her body. Sparks danced before her eyes as she brought herself closer to another orgasm. “I wonder … though,” she said as if carrying on some earlier conversation. “Would it … ugh … fit … ugh … do you think?” The steady power of his touch permeated her consciousness.

“What?” Vel blinked and looked down at Naevia. Her face was slack and she had a distant expression. He had been focusing solely on the way his cockhead hit the bottom of her heavy breasts at the nadir of each of her lurching thrusts. It was true perfection.

“In me … oh … I mean. Would it fit in me? Hypothetically.” She knew such thoughts were anathema to her future as a happily married daughter of the crown, but the idea burned in her brain. Could she tame her brother’s beast? The more she thought about it, the more it consumed her mind.

“I think it would hurt you, Naevia.” Vel wanted to stop her sliding for a moment. To shake some sense into her, but found he had no will to prevent her movements.

“I’m … ugh … not so sure.” Just talking about it was sending her to a new level of excitement. Her vagina spasmed, as if to agree with her.

Vel mustered the will to stop her. He put his hands on her hips and held her down so that her pussy rested on his balls. She rhythmically twitched as he held her tight. He reached a hand over and put it flat on his cockhead and then pressed his fingers into her tummy above the navel. “Do you see? Do you see how deep it would go in you? I do not think it would fit.”

“Ooohhhhhhhhhh.” At the feeling of how deep his cock would penetrate her, his fingers marking its furthest entrance, her orgasm overtook her. “Veeeeeelllllllllllll.” She leaned her head back and gasped at the thought of it inside her. She reached down and took his cock from him, even as her climax crested. She pumped his improbable thing, sending more waves splashing out of the bath. Her mind returned from its pleasure, but the fever of that idea had not left. If anything, her orgasm had increased the thought’s intensity. “I don’t care about my future husband, Vel. I haven’t even met him yet. I love you. I care for you.” She emphasized this last point by expertly working his head with her left hand, pulling the foreskin just the way she knew he liked.

“If I stretched you … or hurt you … your husband would find out. He would know on your wedding night. It would be terrible.” Vel couldn’t believe he was arguing so strongly against this. Every fiber of his being told him to let his sister have her way.

“Stop worrying about my nonexistent husband.” Naevia pushed herself up, letting her nipples brush their way up his chest. She leaned in and whispered in his ear, “Anyway, if we were to only experiment with the tip, no harm would come to me.”

“Oh, gods, Naevia.” He knew her pussy was hovering above his penis in the water. “Are you sure?”

She still held his cock with her left hand. Reaching down between them, she maneuvered it. “Never … oh … more sure … um … of anything … oh, my. It’s … huge.” With a taut plop, the head of his penis slipped inside her. She dared not move or breathe. She had let her muddled thinking steer her wrong. He would surely break her. But she was afraid to even pull off him. She just sat there, with her pussy stretched beyond what she’d considered possible.

“Oh, no.” Helpless, Vel didn’t know what to do. “Is it hurting you?”

“Yes … yes … wait …” She slowly removed her hands from the penis and placed them on his shoulders. She breathed slowly in and out. Vel’s signature warmth swirled through her body. “It’s … oh, my … it’s not hurting … ugh … anymore. It feels … it feels …” She wiggled her hips ever so slightly, careful not to shove more penis inside her. Bolts of pleasure hit her and she gasped.

“Are you okay?” Vel put his hands on the side of her ribs, ready to lift her off. “Naevia?” He could feel her trembling.

“Wait … wait … don’t pull me … dummy.” Naevia opened her eyes and looked up into his handsome face. “You’re … ugh … inside me, Vel. Can you believe it?” Her hips wiggled a little more aggressively.

“No.” Vel’s arms stayed tense, ready to lift her to safety. “And yes. I can … um … feel you squeezing me down there.”

“I am?” She noticed it. Her vaginal muscles flexed around him. The pain was completely gone now. She wiggled again and slid down an inch on his cock. “Oh, gods. You are already in my … belly.”

“It’s not that far in. But you should probably pull off now. I don’t want to …” Vel shuddered as his sister slid down another inch. Her vagina clenched rhythmically. He realized that it had matched the elevated percussion of his own pulse. He didn’t have time to muse on how that was possible, because she slid down another inch. He could hear her mewling now, and knew that he was grunting uncontrollably, like some sort of starving beast. His hands slid down her ribs, past her narrow waist, and out to the curve of her ass. He pressed her flesh with his fingers and found himself working her further onto his cock.

“Oh … Vel … oh … Vel … not so … fast … it’s … too much.” But as soon as she said it, Naevia realized it wasn’t too much. Her body gave a spasmodic hiccup and she found that he had completely embedded in her. “I’m going to … I’m going to …” With a scream Naevia climaxed on her brother’s cock for the first time. Soon, she bounced herself on it like one stricken by many of Cupid’s arrows. Water violently splashed about the bath, crashing into the tiled walls.

“Naevia … Naevia … I never …” Vel tried hard to hold back the coming tide.

“I never … too,” she sang as pleasure danced with her body.

“Am I your first?”

“You might as well … be … the way you stretch me.” Naevia’s hips kept their furious pace. “To … ugh … be honest, I laid with a man last summer … but it was nothing … like this.” With dilated pupils, she tried to watch him as she rose and fell, but it was difficult to focus. “Am I your first?”

“Yes.” Vel was almost happy she had that fling last summer. He liked her having some measure of comparison, now that he could see how much she enjoyed him.

“I … would have waited … if I’d known … it would be you …” She saw by the look in his eyes and sound of his groans that he was close. “Not in me.” With every ounce of fortitude that she could muster, Naevia pulled off her brother. She reached down and pumped his turgid thing with her hands. It felt even larger than normal. Soon he cried out and cum launched harmlessly into the bathwater. “There … there … yes … let it out.” She pressed her cheek against his chest and slowly caressed him with her hand until she could tell her touch was too much. She removed her hand and leaned her naked, heaving body against her brother. She drew in shuddering, steamy breaths. “That is a game … I would play … again.”

“Me … too.” Vel encircled her with his arms and held her tight.

~~

“Have you not yet found your land-legs, cousin?” Dellia cocked her head at Naevia as the short woman waddled toward her out on one of the side lawns. “You’re walking like a crab.”

“Um … yeah.” Naevia forced a smile and nodded. “That trip across the Inland Sea threw me off kilter.”

“For shame, cousin.” Dellia lifted her bow, notched an arrow, and aimed at the target some seventy yards off. She closed an eye and squinted, very aware that despite her chest band, her right boob was still a little in the way. Sometimes she felt some jealousy of men. “You are a woman of Ostia Novus born and bred. A short jaunt in a ship should not make you walk so. Just wait until you take out to the Endless Sea. You’ll find waves the size of mountains there.” She released the arrow and it arched ever so slightly over the grass and hit the target, just left of center.

“We are not all made for adventure, Dellia.” Naevia stepped up to her cousin, took the bow from her, and notched an arrow. She wiggled her shoulder to bunch the sleeve of her borrowed stola. She didn’t want to loosen the thing the way she herself had been loosened that day. The thought of it sent a thrill through her. She felt herself the queen of the world for taking Vel’s cock, but only she and Vel could know of the feat. She aimed at the target.

“Have you heard from your father yet?” Dellia watched her handle the bow with interest. Something was different about Naevia, and it wasn’t just the voyage. But Dellia couldn’t place it.

“Shh.” Naevia gave a quick look around, but they were all alone. “Someone could hear.” She released the arrow and it sped to the target, hitting just to the right of her cousin’s arrow, dead center.

“There are no spies here, Naevia.” Dellia frowned at the target. “Only you, an improbably good marksman, and me.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, cousin.” Naevia smiled modestly. “I think the wind helped me on that last shot.”

~~

“There you are, Merope. How pleasant to see you on this fine day. And the bath looks resplendent. I can see my own reflection in the tile.” Brynhild could indeed see herself. Her body looked even more distorted and bloated in the reflection. She pulled her cloak around herself tighter. “But, sadly, my dishes have not been removed from last night. And more have piled up after this morning’s meal.”

“How did you find me?” Merope was frozen on her hands and knees, a rag in her hand. All her muscles tensed and the hairs stood on the back of her neck.

“Your husband sent me. Such a sweet man, Nicias. He offered that I punish him instead of you. But I have no punishment planned.” Brynhild stood over the woman, admiring the swell of her backside under her dark and ragged stola. It had been years and years since Brynhild had taken a woman. Her work had not required it. But, the sorceress reminded herself, life didn’t have to be all work. “Come with me.” She gestured to the door.

Merope stayed frozen on her hands and knees looking at the tall woman’s shadow as it fell in front of her. “I thought there was to be no punishment, mistress.”

“I have in mind the opposite of torture. Come now, off your knees. There will be plenty of that later.” Brynhild reached down with her left hand and brushed the woman’s dark hair to the side. Her pale fingers closed gently on the exposed, olive skin of Merope’s neck. She could see the scullery servant relax at her touch. Gently, she brought the woman to a standing position. “There now, doesn’t that feel better? If anyone asks us in the halls, you are coming to fetch my dishes.”

“Yes.” Merope nodded, but looked up at the platinum haired woman with wide eyes. That heat she’d tried to forget from the night before had returned at Brynhild’s touch. And with it came that hunger again. She was inexplicably wet between the legs. It was not unlike how she got when Nicias had the urge to take her. But more so. Confusion clouded her thoughts.

“Well, come then.” Brynhild chanced dropping her hand. She couldn’t very well lead the woman back to her chambers while holding her. That would certainly arouse the interest of any passing servant. But the small woman complied meekly enough and together they walked through the castle in silence. They ran into no one on their way.

When they were in Brynhild’s chamber, Brynhild conjured her ball of light and sat at the edge of her bed. She redirected Merope from the dishes on the table and beckoned her to stand by the bed. “There now. Clothes off, dear. I would like to see what I bought with our accidental touch.”

“I … I … cannot disrobe for you.” Merope stood with her hands by her sides, her mouth hanging open in surprise. She had been promised no punishment. Was she not there to fetch the dishes? “My body is the forbidden vine for my husband to drink as wine. I will forgo the passing bee that tries to pollinate me.”

“Oh, how quaint. Was that from your wedding?”

Merope nodded.

“Well, I cannot pollinate you, Merope. I have not the equipment. So, you are quite safe.” Brynhild loosened her cloak and let it fall back onto the sheets. She now wore only her ill-fitting, borrowed stola. “Now be a good young woman, and remove your dress.” She pushed these last words harder into Merope’s mind. The sorceress had wanted to avoid muddling the waters with other magic, so that she might see what the dust was capable of on its own. But, alas, she didn’t have all day.

“Okay.” Merope lifted the stola with both arms over her head. She wiggled her hips back and forth as she did this to get the thing off. She was not wearing a chest band and she could see the sorceress’s steel-blue eyes fall to her breasts. Merope covered her boobs with her arms on instinct. She stood in the middle of the chilly room with only her underwear on. She hoped that she hadn’t stained the linen with her strange excitement.

“Oh, you have lovely breasts. Certainly, paler than the rest of you. And your nipples are so dark. Don’t be bashful, let me see them again.” Brynhild saw that the woman had no intention of complying, so she leaned forward and caressed Merope’s thin arm. The scullery servant sucked in her breath with the touch, and her chest heaved. After a minute’s touch, Merope’s arms fell, exposing herself. “There now, they are lovely. Those hanging globes look quite big on you, but they would be small on me. Maybe about the size of my old breasts.” Brynhild saw Merope’s eyebrows raise in puzzlement. “Oh, yes. I am not the woman I used to be. That doesn’t concern you, though.” Brynhild pulled Merope’s arms downward until the woman fell to her knees before her. “Tell me what you make of my touch.” She let go of the woman and spread her legs, lifting the stola to her hips. She had not worn underwear for the occasion and could see the woman’s dark eyes fixed on her triangle of blond hair.

“It is warm, and sweet, and I … I …” Merope still did not grasp what was expected of her. The sorceress was right, she had not the equipment for pollination. What did she want with Merope? “I would like you to touch me again, please.” The words came out of Merope unbidden.

“Come closer so that I might touch you.” Brynhild leaned back on her right hand. Her left hand hung tantalizingly in the air. The ball of light glinted off Merope’s pretty eyes.

“Okay.” Merope scooted on her knees a little closer. That long, pale arm reached out to her, the hand wrapped around the back of her neck again, and she felt herself pulled between the woman’s legs. Her nostrils flared. The scent of another woman hit her for the first time. It was pungent and pleasant, she decided. A little more pulling and her face met the sorceress’s vagina. Merope pressed her lips together tightly, still confused.

“Open your mouth, Merope,” Brynhild cooed. She did not push any of her words. She did not think she needed to. “Taste me.”

Merope shook her head, but couldn’t move away with the hand holding her and the warmth spreading into her from her neck.

“Are you worried about sweet Nicias? I am not a bee, remember?” Brynhild watched what she could see of Merope’s face as her pupils dilated and the creases in her forehead smoothed. “You may do this and keep your marriage intact. Fear not.”

Tentatively, Merope parted her lips. Her tongue darted out and she touched the sorceress’s nether lips with the tip. She wasn’t sure that Brynhild was right. This seemed like something Nicias would find upsetting. But the hunger welled in her and she couldn’t make sense of her thoughts. She lapped at the vagina before her. It tasted better than she would have guessed. Tangy and salty and just a little sweet. Soon, her tongue delved between the vertical lips with each lick, seeking to drink as much of the sorceress as she could.

“Oh. Careful. I am not a feeding trough. Be a little more gentle.” With her grip on the woman’s neck, she guided her movements. “That’s better. Ahhhhhhh. Yes … that’s good. Now … try sucking on the lips. No, no, no. Gentle … no teeth … yes … there … and now … my button. Yes … ooooohhhhhhhh … you’re learning. Yeeeeeesssssssssss.” Brynhild pressed the woman’s mouth onto her clitoris and relinquished to her orgasm.

Stunned, Merope kept at her work. She could feel the woman’s strong thighs shake on either side of her head. She looked up to see the great swell of Brynhild’s bust tremble under her stola. Merope had never felt more in control of another person. And, at the same time, she had never been more under another’s power. She rubbed her own thighs together and a funny, fuzzy feeling built in her belly.

“Good … good …” Brynhild’s apogee passed and she pulled the woman into her lap. “Your enthusiasm is quite something.” She moved the soaked underwear off Merope. The naked woman was now trembling with excitement in her lap. Brynhild kissed her, enjoying her own taste on the servant’s lips. She could feel Merope melt into her, their breasts pressed together with the stola between them. Their tongues danced for some time, hands roaming all over their bodies.

Nicias had never shown Merope what the joys of physical pleasure could be. As she kissed another woman for the first time, Merope felt a kind of anger toward her husband. Why had he not treated her the way this woman did? Soon, she found herself turning around on top of Brynhild, and her face was now confronted with that waiting vagina again. She knew what to do, and nibbled at those lips. But then she screamed out as the sorceress’s tongue found her own secret places. She felt hands squeeze her butt, the warmth flowing through her left cheek. “Eeeeeiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii.” Seized by her first orgasm, Merope knew that a door to a whole new world had opened to her. She spent hours on top of the sorceress, as they feasted on each other. The climaxes were like waves in a tempest, one crashing down on the next and on the next.

Eventually, Brynhild pushed Merope off her and ordered the woman to dress. She lay on her side, watching that ripe, womanly body disappear under her stola. “Would you like to visit again, Merope?”

Merope shook her head quickly, put on her sandals, and headed for the door.

“Well, think on it, dear.” Brynhild smiled at the servant even though the dark woman wouldn’t meet her eye. “Oh, and don’t forget the dishes.” She watched as the flustered Merope hurried to the table, gathered the dishes, and sped away as fast as she could. With a flick of her left index finger, Brynhild extinguished the light. Dusk had settled outside. The sorceress moved her head to her pillow and shut her eyes.

~~

The screech of a monkey caused Naevia to spin in the seamstress’s shop. The small furry creature jumped into Naevia’s arms just as her measurements were completed. It tugged at her chest band, and then seemed to calm and nuzzled its face into her bare upper chest.

“Is this your monkey?” Naevia said to the seamstress. The animal seemed to purr into her skin.

“What? No!” The seamstress, alarmed, moved toward Naevia. “Shoo, shoo.” She waved a cloth at the monkey.

“Wait. It isn’t harming anyone.” Naevia folded her arms around it. “Leave it be.”

“Well, then it shall be welcome in my shop.”

A few minutes later, Vel spotted his sister reentering the busy street. He popped a date into his mouth and ambled over to her. “You know you have a monkey on your shoulder?”

“Yes. Isn’t he sweet?” Naevia reached up and patted its head. “I think I’ll call him Mercury.”

“You’re naming him?” Vel handed her a date, but the monkey took it before she could and shoved it in its toothy mouth. “It’s your baby now?”

“Our baby, Your Grace.” Naevia laughed. “He has your looks.”

“And your brains.” Vel handed her another date and it made it to his sister’s hand this time.

“I noticed. He’s a smart little thing.” Naevia’s laugh was drowned out by the grunting of camels, the shouting of vendors, and the squeak of old, wooden wheels. She put the date in her mouth and savored its sweetness. “I’m to come back tomorrow for new clothes.” The monkey jumped from her arms and scurried away, quickly lost in traffic. “Mercury? Come back.”

“He’ll be alright.” Vel took her hand. He was about to lead her up a side street when a cloaked figure in a hood stepped out in front of them. Vel dropped his sister’s hand and reached for his sword. They should have brought Dellia.

“Easy now.” The man’s face was hidden by a silver mask, cast half in shadow by his hood. There was a tear etched into the left cheek of the mask. When he spoke, his voice was a hoarse croak. “Come with me. I have what you seek.” The man turned and disappeared down a narrow alley.

Vel and Naevia looked at one another.

“What we seek. Did he mean Father? Was that Father himself?” Naevia’s eyebrow raised.

“He did seem familiar.” Vel drew his sword, careful not to accidently slice any passerby. “A sword seems reasonable. Just in case we’re wrong and it’s not him.”

“Good idea.” Naevia wished for her bow. Without it, she reached under her stola and drew a long dagger. “Shall we follow him, Vel?”

“On Mercury’s wings.” Vel led the way and they disappeared into the shadowed alley.

 

Chapter 6

The masked man moved nimbly. Vel and Naevia followed him down the alley, and then lost sight of him as he turned left through a door.

“A trap?” Naevia stopped next to her brother, her shoulder pushing against his side. The dagger in her hand glittered with the faint afternoon light that angled in above the tan buildings around them. “Perhaps we should have the man send us a pigeon instead?”

“I don’t think he trusts such communication.” Vel took an uncertain step toward the door. “As our cousin said, pigeons are brought down with an arrow. Men, not so easily.” He took another step and peered into the doorway. There seemed to be a narrow passage on the other side. “Let’s follow him.”

“Oh, you are brave, Your Grace. Guide me by your northern light.” Naevia tried to make a joke of it, but her knees trembled as she followed Vel through the door. Once on the other side, they could see daylight from the other side of a narrow passage. They moved quickly through, staying close together, ignoring the doors on either side. When Naevia looked back, she saw that the door they had entered through was now shut behind them.

“It’s not a trap. If it was, we would be dead.” Vel exited the passage with his sister and looked around. They were in a wide, grassy field, squared off by the buildings around them. All around were scattered large pieces of masonry, sparse at first, them more of them the closer they got to the tower at the center of the square. The blocks, mostly rectangles, had implanted themselves in the grass with the force of their falls. Vel looked up and marveled at the broken tower above them. Even decaying as it was, it was truly a marvel. He tried to imagine what it had been like in its prime, when it had pierced the clouds.

“There he is.” Naevia pointed to the grand double doors of the tower, standing partly ajar. The man in the silver mask looked back at them, his face glinting in the sun. He then disappeared into the tower. “Do we follow still?” She didn’t like the thought of entering that decrepit building. Few dared to explore the old towers. And fewer still returned.

“We would be fools to enter a magic tower.” Vel slid his sword back into its scabbard. There was no trap, and a sword wouldn’t help him should a stone block decide to cave his head in.

“Perhaps others would be fools to follow us?” Naevia shrugged and put her knife back under her stola. “Or at least that sounds like Father’s thinking. If the masked man is father.”

“So, we go?” He took his sister’s hand and approached the tower, listening for loosening stones from above. But all he heard were the sounds of the city from outside their abandoned square.

“Up, it seems.” Naevia squeezed her brother’s large hand as they entered the tower. The inside had clearly been looted, but showed none of the signs of vagrancy that one would expect from an abandoned building. There had been a grand entrance hall, and she tried to imagine it with elaborate sconces, beautiful tapestries, and fine furniture. The tile floor was cracked here and there where stones had fallen from the ceiling above. “The stairs are over there.”

“Does it feel … different in here?” Vel’s senses throbbed with some indefinite portent. A raw buzzing faintly pressed at his skin. He followed Naevia to the stairs and climbed.

“I do feel … something. Perhaps it’s the shadow of the place’s magic?” She moved ahead of Vel in the narrow stairway, her feet creaking each wooden step.

“Maybe.” Vel watched her round butt ascend above him. He tried not to stare, but her form was captivating. Especially as her hips swayed under that nearly transparent stola.

They climbed and climbed. Each time they came to a floor, they looked out, but saw nothing of the masked man. After five floors, it was clear they had more courage than the looters had. Each floor boasted intricately engraved fixtures, grand furniture, and finely embroidered tapestries on the walls. All of it covered in dust, but otherwise unharmed. Up they went.

Naevia was a sweaty mess by the time they finally found the man waiting for them on the seventeenth floor. He was waiting in a hallway, but disappeared behind an oak door when they saw him.

“He’s … here.” Naevia huffed and puffed as she walked down the hall and peered into the room. It was a suite with a bath and toilet through a door on the left, a great room in the middle, and a bedroom to the right. “Did they have plumbing on every floor?” Naevia was amazed.

“With magic, even the common man could live as a duke.” The man’s voice was no longer a croak. Both his children recognized Gallio’s cool speech immediately. He stood in the doorway to the bedroom and removed his mask. “Well, maybe not the common man, but at least those that could afford to live in the towers.”

“Father,” Naevia and Vel said. She rushed into Gallio’s arms, but Vel hung back.

“It is good to see you, child.” Gallio patted her red hair and pushed her away. He looked at his tall, skinny nineteen-year-old son. The lad looked awkward and gawky. Nothing like Fortinbras. “Is it true? Your brother’s gone?”

“Yes. The queens regent made me the Duke of Ostia Novus.” Vel crossed his arms over his chest uncomfortably. They knew from his letter that he was alive, but looking at his father’s face was akin to seeing a ghost. “Fortinbras has disappeared. But now that you’re back –”

“He is dead.” Gallio’s thin line of a mouth turned down in a frown. “I should not have left him as I did. He was the best of us, but too young to lead.”

“But father …” Naevia didn’t want to contradict him, but clearly Vel was the best of the Tullius clan. Fortinbras was a bully.

“And, to correct you, Vel, I am not back.” Gallio shook his head. “You two should not have come. You bring trouble with you.”

“We brought no one.” Naevia retreated to her brother and put her arm around his waist protectively.

“Do you take me for a fool?” Gallio retrieved a spyglass from under his cloak. As he looked out the window, he pulled it to its full length. “Look down there, in the alley between the market and apothecary.” He held out the spyglass to his children.

“What is it?” Naevia pulled her brother to the window, took the spyglass, and found the alley. “It’s cousin Dellia. Of course, we brought her. She served admirably in the storm at sea and she’s got a better sword hand than either of us.” She handed the glass to her brother and he looked.

“Um … Naevia? Who is she kissing?” Vel handed the glass back to her.

“What? She wouldn’t break her vows to her husband.” Naevia hadn’t even paid attention to the man Dellia was with in the alley. She looked again.

“She would not break her vows. No.” Gallio’s voice was cold.

“That is … I believe … is that … Spurrius?” Naevia could see them break their kiss and recognized Dellia’s husband. “What is he doing here? She didn’t mention it to us.”

“I can’t imagine that she did.” Gallio lifted his mask, but did not put it on. “I have always had my suspicions about her father. Find out her true purpose here and report back to me.”

“Do you have a pigeon?” Vel knew it was stupid as soon as he said it.

“Pigeons can be intercepted, and everyone knows to look for them. A monkey is inconspicuous in this city, and more cunning than a stupid bird,” Gallio said. “You’ve met my carrier already.”

“Mercury was your agent?” Naevia should not have been surprised.

“You call him Mercury? How fitting. Give him a note when you want to meet and he will get it to me.” Gallio put the silver mask back onto his face. “Careful on the way out of this building, my children. It is not what it used to be.”

“Wait. We have so many questions.” Vel stepped toward him as his father moved to the exit.

“And I have no answers for those that cannot be trusted.” Gallio swept out of the room, his cloak trailing him.

“But … I’m the duke.” Vel called after him. He heard his father’s laugh slowly die away as Gallio descended the stairs. He turned to his sister. “Well, that went about as well as it could have.”

“Was it that bad?” Naevia looked through the spyglass and could see Dellia and Spurrius holding hands as they waited in the mouth of the alley. They were situated about two blocks from where Naevia and Vel had accessed the abandoned tower. “I think we’re going to have to find another way out. Father could have told us how he planned on leaving.”

“Yeah. But he did not.” Vel walked over to the bed and turned back the dusty velvet blanket. The linen sheets seemed as clean as the day someone made the bed. He sat down with a sigh, the bed squeaking beneath him. “We could just wait them out.” He turned sideways and lay his head on the pillow. His ankles and feet extended over the footboard. He sighed again.

“What sorrows lay heavy on your breast, Brother?” Naevia put down the spyglass on the window ledge and walked out into the grand room. She closed and locked the heavy oak entry door and then returned to the bedroom.

“Our father has a toxic aspect about him. It clouds his view of the world. Dellia would never betray us. Yet he now has us spying on her.” Vel studied the Olympian mural painted on the cracking plaster of the ceiling. He spotted Venus and thought that even her beauty was surpassed by the Tullius women.

“Is she really watching our exit? Perhaps she followed us to make sure of our safety? What did she say she was doing today?” Naevia climbed onto the bed and rested her head on Vel’s chest, listening to the steady thump inside. She reached up and slowly unclasped the fasteners on his robes. A smile parted her lips as she watched up close as a mound of tunic rose between his legs.

“I … um … don’t remember.” Vel couldn’t think straight as the soft weight of his sister’s body pushed into his side. How was it possible to want anything on Earth as much as he wanted her? He watched her little hands spread his robes and move down to lift his tunic. He breathed in deeply and smelled the dust of the room and his sister’s dried sweat from their climb. Ambrosia could not carry a better scent to his nose.

“If we do it again, do you think we’ll bring the tower down around us?” She seized the fat bar of his cock through his tunic and rhythmically squeezed it. Uncovering it, she marveled at the crimson head and the crisscross of veins. How she had fit the thing inside her, she didn’t know. Her senses tingled, almost like the erstwhile magic of the tower called to her from the past. “How long do you think it’s been since a pair mated in this building?”

“I … um … really love hearing you say … mated.” Vel looked down and watched her hands work him. Her freckled arms flexed, looking so thin and pale next to his enlarged penis.

Naevia laughed. “Mated, mated, mated. If it makes you happy to hear it, it makes me happy to say it. You’ve mated me once, Vel, and I dare say you’re about to do it again.” She let go of him, wiping his precum on the sheets. She lifted her stola over her head, removed her chest band, and rolled to her back to remove her underwear. She tossed her clothes onto a far corner of the bed and then climbed on top of her brother. “Your thing is so long that climbing you is about as much a feat as ascending up this building.” She straddled him, reached in between her legs, and held his cock so that the head nudged her pussy. “You have your own magic tower, Vel. And it is in a much better state than our current accommodations. It’s hard, and vital, and huuuuuuuge.” She lowered herself and with a plop the head moved inside her.

“I love you, Naevia.” Vel had never meant it more in his life. He watched her body twitch as she readjusted to his size, her heavy breasts rising and falling on her chest. He gazed at the web of delicate blue veins under her pale skin. She was too perfect. He felt her slide a little farther down on him, and her eyes rolled with the effort.

“Of course, silly. I love you more than ipomea loves the eastern sun. And now … ugh … with the way you make me feel … aaaaahhhhhhhh … with your thing inside me.” She slid all the way down him. Looking down between her breasts, she could see the outline of his monster pushing at her belly from the inside. “And now … I want only this. To feel this …” Her hips rocked and she ground herself into him. “… forever.” She leaned forward, her breasts dangling and swaying, her nails digging into his chest.

“Does it feel good?” Vel knew it was the wrong question to ask a woman who’d just impaled herself on him, but he suspected his sister would forgive him.

“It doesn’t hurt … this time.” She threw her copper curls back and screamed. “I’m going to … cum … Vel … already … aaaaahhhhhhhhhh.”

Watching her hips writhe and her face twist with pleasure was almost too much for Vel. He reached up and grabbed her tits. A loud crack sounded somewhere in the tower, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

An hour later, Naevia lay perpendicular to him on the bed, her mouth bobbing on his cock. Vel could smell the tropical scent of his cum as it leaked from around her mouth and slid down his cock. “You … drank more of it this time.” He sighed and let his weight settle into the mattress.

Naevia pulled her mouth off him and swallowed another gulp she had saved in her mouth. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “If we’re to go again, I’ll need my sustenance, Your Grace.” She tapped his still hard cock with her hand and watched it wobble in the air. When she looked up at her brother’s face, a small frown touched her lips. “None of that, lord sleepyhead. I want more.” She got on all fours and turned her butt to him.

“We could take a nap here. Dellia will have to leave eventually.” Vel looked at the way she presented herself to him, eyeing the white curves of her ass, and knew he would not be able to sleep.

“Bother your plans for sleeping.” She wiggled her butt at him and looked over her shoulder. She could see by his expression it was having the desired effect. “I’ve ridden you twice now. It’s time you rode me.”

“Like that?” Vel had seen animals mate as his sister intended, but he’d never guessed that humans could do the same. He got up on his knees and got behind her. His hips were too high, so he opened his legs a bit to lower himself. He grabbed her hips and pulled her so that her legs were together, enjoying her little shriek of surprise as he moved her. “So, I just put it in?” He grabbed his penis and guided it toward her opening.

“Not there!” Naevia squirmed away from him. “You’ll kill me in that hole.” She scooted back to him, reached awkwardly back, planting a shoulder on the bed to bend far enough, and took hold of him. “It goes here. Yes … ah … yes. Is that not paradise, Vel?” She let go of him and uncoiled so that her face was again facing forward. “Hold my hips … while you thrust. Gentle … gentle. I’m still sore. Yeeesssssss. Now harder.” She pushed back at him. The percussion of slapping skin filled the room. “Oh … gods … Vel … you’re a natural … I’m …” Another climax hit her and she bit the ancient sheets. Bolts of lightning danced over her nerves.

They went at it like a pair of rutting dogs for a long while. From time to time the tower would groan or crack around them, but they barely registered the noise over their own grunts, cries, and the creaking bed. Eventually, Vel was ready to release again.

“I’m going to … I’m going …” He looked down at her tight butt, at the ripples bounding off each thrust.

“Not … yet … please …” Naevia was so close to another orgasm. She needed to pull off him, but not yet. Her climaxes were becoming as precious to her as water was to a lost traveler in the desert. The heat that was always flowing from Vel’s contact intensified. An eruption of fire filled her belly, even with her climax almost upon her, the reality of the situation hit. “Noooooooooo …” Naevia pulled forward and dislodged him, falling on her side. The heat of his cum splattered on her hip, her ribs, the side of her breast, and even her face. She writhed in the sheets, lost in pleasure, as he coated her with his stuff.

“Oh, Naevia. I like … that position.” He fell next to her, and the bed groaned in protest.

“Did you … do it inside me?” Naevia rolled onto her back, spread her legs, and looked down past her copper bush. A trickle of white stuff slid out of her. “We … have to be … more careful.” With her fingers, she spread her lips to the side and watched it dribble out, mesmerized and terrified by the knowledge that she had taken some of his seed.

“Did I?” Vel could feel his body try and tighten with worry, but he was too relaxed after his orgasm to bring on a full panic. He leaned on his elbow and looked over at her leaking vagina. “Oh, gods, Naevia. I did. I’m sorry.”

“Well, it was a stupid thing to do.” She looked over at him and saw the look of post-climax satisfaction on his face mixed with concern. She found the expression endearing. “But I am safe today. It doesn’t matter.”

“Good.” Vel watched as she stayed on her back with her legs spread and her fingers holding her lips open. He noticed her green eyes move from him back down to the damage he had wrought between her legs. “Hey, Naevia?”

“Yes, Your Grace?” Her mouth tilted into a smile.

“It does look beautiful, does it not? I mean, what we did.” Vel stood and walked over to the window. Hazy dusk spread over the city.

“Don’t get used to it. Can you imagine what mother would say if you got me with child?” Naevia rolled off the bed and landed on her feet. She reached for her linen undergarments. She shimmied her underwear on and reached for her stola. “She would decapitate me for sure. And remove worse from you.”

Vel instinctively put a hand over his softening penis. “We’ll be more careful.” He looked through the spyglass, but couldn’t spot Dellia in the alley. The tower groaned and let out a sharp crack. He quickly found his tunic and pulled it over his head. “Our cousin is gone. Let’s leave this place before it comes down on our heads.”

“Excellent idea.” With a faint sense of loss, she watched the giant, soft cock disappear under his tunic. She reminded herself she would reunite with it soon. But they had other things to do on that foreign shore. First and foremost was proving to their father that Dellia’s behaviors had innocent explanations.



~~

What a wonderful morning. Brynhild moved about her room naked, as she prepared for her day. She didn’t even mind the way her new body jiggled at her. She found her balance caught the distribution of mass better, almost as if she’d lived years with a sow’s udders and wide hips. Gravity’s new pull bothered her very little. As she slid on a long skirt and wiggled into a tight bodice, she wondered what Merope was doing at this hour. Then she caught herself thinking of the small woman with desire, like some smitten schoolgirl. She smiled to herself. “You, the most powerful sorceress left of the North, do not long for a common scullery servant,” she said to the empty room. But as she brushed her hair, she couldn’t get the little woman’s cries of pleasure out of her mind.

Before even breaking her fast, with the wan light of early morning falling through her windows, Brynhild left her room and moved down through the castle. Sure enough, she found Merope working with her husband and another woman in the scullery.

“Servant girl.” Brynhild glided into the scullery, past the pot of boiling water, over to the sink where Merope scrubbed dishes. The young wife looked quite radiant. Maybe she was as eager to meet the day as Brynhild. “I have a box that needs cleaning.”

“A box, mistress?” Merope dared not look up at those steely blue eyes, but she also could not meet her husband’s gaze either. She hoped very much that her rosy cheeks were not betraying her shame to all those in the room. She wanted desperately to run from this woman, but she did not move. And, even worse, a wetness gathered between her legs. She desperately hoped that her poor Nicias suspected nothing. “I must finish these dishes.”

“My box takes precedence, I’m afraid.” Brynhild’s face was tight with anticipation.

“Maybe I can help you with your box.” Nicias moved between the women. He did not like the interest the sorceress had taken in his wife ever since Merope had forgotten the dishes. Was the giantess punishing Merope in secret? His wife had been taciturn the last few days.

A sardonic grin crossed Brynhild’s tight lips. “Thank you, gentle Nicias. But I require your wife’s skills.” She turned and walked out of the scullery, without looking back. “Now come, Merope.”

“Yes, mistress.” Merope finally met her husband’s gaze. She could see he meant to put himself between them again. “Shh, it’s fine, Nicias.” She patted his shoulder. “She has shown me kindness. I will be back with you at work in no time.” She tried very hard to smile for him, and followed the tall woman out.

“See you soon, my love,” Nicias called after her. His wife gave him one quick, reassuring look over her shoulder and was gone.

Out in the hall, Merope hurried after the sorceress. She found it hard to keep up with the woman’s long strides. She watched Brynhild’s rump sway under a long skirt that swept down to the stone floor. Had she really experienced such pleasures while grasping that butt with her own two hands? That memory seemed to be from someone else’s life.

“We are far enough away, and the climb back to my chamber is too long a wait.” Brynhild turned, took the woman’s wrist with her left hand. She nearly pulled the woman off her feet in her urgency. They were in the long curving corridor that connected the temples. They turned and entered Venus’s sanctum. The circular room was small, with the bountiful goddess standing in statue form in the middle, offering her large breasts to her followers. There was no door, but that did not matter. People rarely visited the temples. “This will do.”

“The box … is in here?” Merope found it hard to think. Brynhild’s heat spread through her grip on her wrist, and moved into Merope’s core. She found herself pushed to her knees, then somehow, she was under Brynhild’s skirts. The smell of excitement from the sorceress was a powerful indication of what the woman expected of her. Tentatively, Merope reached up and felt the downy tuft of hair above Brynhild’s vagina. There was no underwear between Merope’s hand and the woman’s secrets. Hating herself for the lack of doubt in her mind, Merope crouched on her feet for her tongue could not reach its destination while on her knees.

“There now, my little marsh flower. Drink what I offer you. Yeeeeesssssssss.” Brynhild nearly lost her balance when that hungry mouth fastened itself to her pussy. She reached out and put her hand on Venus’s cold, stone breast to steady herself. She looked down, but only the faintest outline of Merope’s bobbing head could be seen under her skirts. “You have found the box that so needed your skills. Wash it … yesssssss … delve it … I’m going to …” Brynhild shuddered out her first orgasm standing in the sanctum. As she tried to control her cries, the sorceress knew that it would be just the first of many climaxes that day.

Merope reached up to those wide, round butt cheeks and squeezed them hard as she worked the tall woman’s button. She felt that she might climax herself just from giving the sorceress such pleasure. Her whole world had turned upside down.

~~

The morning wore on and still Merope did not return to the scullery. Nicias tried to make explanations that did not involve some secret torment for his sweet wife. But after more than an hour, he could not continue with his duties. He had to rescue her. “I’ll be back in a little while.”

The other servants eyed each other, nervously. One was not supposed to break this early in the day, but they knew he worried over Merope. They said nothing as he left.

Nicias went straight to Brynhild’s chamber, but found no sound from within and no answer to his knocks. He then doubled back and went down to the main floor. After a while, he stopped in the corridor outside the temples. A mewling sound greeted his ears. After a minute’s investigation, he found that it was coming from Venus’s sanctum. He entered and stopped, wide eyed. There was the sorceress, holding the bust of Venus. Her face was clearly contorted in some sort of religious ecstasy. Nicias stared at her. “Oh … um … forgive my intrusion.”

Merope froze. She now had two fingers in the other woman’s clenching vagina, and her tongue stopped as it was mid-lick on her button. She was hidden under the skirts, but recognized her husband’s gentle voice. Her heart threatened to beat out of her chest.

“Ah, Nicias. You have caught me giving my devotion to Venus.” Brynhild composed herself a bit. It helped that the wife had stopped her ministrations. She made a show of squeezing the stone breast she held.

“I … uh … I … thought you worshiped the Northern gods.” Nicias felt like he had intruded on a very intimate moment, and wanted nothing more than to quickly exit. But he had to ask about his wife.

“I find my pantheon to be open and accommodating.” At these words she rocked her hips a little, trying to spur Merope back into action.

Merope could feel the pussy clenching around the fingers of her right hand and Brynhild’s hips wiggling. She still held the right butt cheek with her left hand, and felt it clench under her grip. She knew the woman wanted her to continue even as she spoke to poor Nicias. How depraved did she think Merope was?

“Oh … I see.” Nicias could see the woman’s curvaceous body writhe a bit, in what he assumed was her continued religious fervor. He needed to leave. “Have you … um … seen my wife?

“Maybe your wife is nearby. Would you like to see her?” Brynhild glanced around the room as if searching for someone.

“I … um … don’t see her.” Nicias did not understand the woman. There was nowhere in that small space for a grown woman to hide.

Merope understanding the threat, pumped her fingers again. She tried to do this gently, for she did not want her husband to hear the squelching sounds she made. She pursed her lips and sucked on the button before her.

Brynhild laughed. “Of course, I jest. I sent her on some errands about the castle. She’s probably already returned to the scullery.”

“Oh … okay.” Nicias backed toward the exit. The woman’s hips were now rocking quite rhythmically, like a dance. “I am sorry to have disturbed you, mistress.” He turned and left.

“I am not disturbed, Nicias.” She called after him. When he was gone, she whispered down to her skirts. “Very good, little one. Now … ah … finish me off. Yeeeesssssssss.” And she climaxed again.

Before sending Merope back to her tasks in the scullery, Brynhild pulled the young wife from her hiding place. She lifted her up, swung Merope’s legs over her shoulders, and tucked her head under Merope’s stola. As she ate out the servant, and listened to the woman’s frenzied whining, she thought that perhaps she was not so well hidden as Merope had been. But she knew Nicias would not return. It was almost midday by the time she patted Merope’s butt, advised her to wash her face, and sent her on her way.

~~

The morning after she had spent such a wonderful time in the tower with her brother, Naevia woke up before sunrise and settled herself just out of sight from her cousin’s room. She did not wake Vel for fear that she might get waylaid in his room. Naevia wore a stola, with a bow and quiver slung over her shoulder. She could not imagine that Dellia would do her harm, but if her father was worried, she figured she might as well be cautious.

Just as the first rays of daylight fell into the hall, Naevia heard Dellia’s door open. She peered around and watched the young woman march with purpose away from her down the hall. Naevia followed, sticking to the shadows.

They traversed the viscount’s castle, and Dellia slipped into the aviary. Naevia sneaked to a nearby balcony so that she could watch her cousin through the glassless windows of the aviary. Dellia wore her battle tunic, and even from a distance Naevia could hear her sword jangling at her side. Naevia watched her spend time at a pigeon cage and then approach the window. Naevia removed her bow and notched an arrow.

It all happened quite fast. Dellia strode to the window, tossed the bird outside, and turned back to the door. Naevia let the arrow fly just as her cousin’s back turned itself to the outgoing message. The poor pigeon exploded in a puff of feathers and fell with the arrow to the rocky outcrop below. Naevia glanced at her cousin but Dellia was already leaving the aviary. She hadn’t seen what befell her messenger.

Heart thumping in her chest, Naevia waited a good long while before leaving the balcony. She crept through the castle, telling herself over and over that the message’s contents would be banal and benign. She prayed it was so. She exited the castle, crossed the north lawn, and found the dead pigeon and her arrow on the rocks where they’d fallen. She retrieved her arrow, tossed the pigeon into a nearby wood, and tucked the still sealed scroll into her stola pocket. Now it was time to wake her brother. She hurried back into the castle.

~~

Birds sang in the trees of the courtyard. The portcullis rose as Cassia stood waiting with her retinue. She wore a gold circlet in her hair, and her stola was interwoven with glittering silver thread in floral designs. “Smiles everyone.” She reached up and patted Bantia’s shoulder. They could hear the horse hooves approach. This was the day Lord Hostus Gala’s family would formally propose marriage to the Tullius clan.

A horn sounded. Cassia’s smile left her like smoke on the wind. That was not the sound of the Gala family. That was the royal horn. It was supposed to be reserved for the princess in waiting. But, as a column of horsemen entered the courtyard pulling the royal carriage, Cassia could see that it was now used by the queens regent. This was the royal guard. Beside her she felt the sorceress’s stance shift uneasily. Bantia reached for her mother’s hand and squeezed it tight.

The carriage pulled around the courtyard and stopped in front of Cassia. The duchess stood a bit straighter. She could see another carriage rumble through the gate. The banner waving from it was the gull on a blue field. The Gala sigil. Why had the Gala’s not told her the queens were with them?

Guards descended from their positions about the carriage and opened the door. First, the consort regent, Tiberius, exited. He smiled at Cassia and held his hand out for his wife. Queen Valeria took his hand and stepped out of the carriage. She held her free hand behind her, and Queen Cesphea followed her out. Cesphea had never married, so the carriage had no more passengers.

“Welcome, Your Majesties.” Cassia curtsied low and Bantia followed suit. To her right, Brynhild paused for a fraction of a second, and then curtsied, too. “It is an honor and a blessing to have you with us.” She stayed in her curtsey, eyes on the neatly trimmed grass below her.

“Rise, Duchess.” Valeria held up her hand in a magnanimous boon to all present. “The gods bestow their love and charity on you. Now rise.”

“To what do we owe this glorious pleasure?” Cassia looked on the perfect, pale faces of the queens.

A guard handed Valeria her scepter with the goddess Salacia sculpted out of patinaed copper. “We are here for the blessed joining of two of the kingdom’s most storied houses.” She looked around with a faint smirk and raised eyebrow. “But where is the duke? Could he not greet us?”

“I apologize, Your Majesty. My son is across the sea negotiating a trade compact.” Cassia bowed her head.

“Well, it is good that he is working hard for Ostia Novus. We would not want him running hither and tither on personal errands so soon into his ducal duties,” Cesphea said. “Come then, let us help you celebrate this momentous day.” The queens and consort walked past Cassia into the front hall.

Cassia glanced at her daughter whose olive complexion suddenly looked quite wan. “Welcome the Gala family and your husband-to-be. I will attend to the queens.” She watched her daughter nod and rush off to the second carriage. Then, Cassia turned, cursed herself under her breath, and headed into the main hall to welcome this new intrusion into her home.

 

Chapter 7

“A good morning to you.” Tes-amen smiled at the young Tullius woman. “Have you recovered yet from your trip across the Inland Sea? They say the first trip can be —”

“This is how I always walk, Tes-amen.” Naevia turned on the viscount’s man with fiery eyes. Was she so bowlegged from her time with Vel that everyone noticed? She unconsciously put her hand on the pocket that hid Dellia’s sealed message. “I am affronted that you would comment on the appearance of a lady, a duke’s sister no less.”

“My humble apologies.” Tes-amen bowed low. The way the little, pale thing looked at him he would not have been surprised had she removed the bow from around her shoulder and stuck him with an arrow. He looked around to avoid her eyes. “I made no allusion to your appearance, Lady Tullius.” This was true, he hadn’t any idea what she was talking about.

They stood where the hall curved out by a veranda. This stretch of corridor was open to the elements and boasted a view over most of the city. He saw his opportunity to change the subject. He pointed out over Kart Hadasht. “Ever since last night it has grown. They say it pulled into it all the fallen stones, and now it is greedily taking masonry from nearby buildings. Swallowing the blocks up and spitting them back out on top to form higher and higher levels. It is as if the warlocks of old had returned.”

Naevia looked back down at her feet and was about to push past Tes-amen, when the strangeness of his words caught her. “What are you talking about?” She looked over at him. The rising sun in the east backlit the dark-skinned man, and it was hard for her to read his expression.

“Oh, forgive me, Lady. Have you not heard?” He pointed again out over the city with renewed emphasis. “You need only look over there. One of the relic towers has suddenly awoken, and it is rebuilding itself as we speak. We are truly living through a time of miracles.”

“We are?” Naevia followed his gaze out over the city. Her heart nearly stopped when she saw the enormous column of stone climbing into the sky. She knew the old towers had been tall, but this stretched her mind’s ability to accept her eyes. “Is this some trick? Because I do not abide by foolery.” Truth was, Naevia enjoyed a bit of foolery, but she did not want this man laughing at her expense.

“It is all the palace is talking about.” Tes-amen watched as the young woman put her head back down and hurried past him. Such a strange lady. “I don’t know why I didn’t lead with it, rather than make those unfortunate comments.” He scratched his head as she vanished down the hall. “Very sorry about that.”

“Forget it happened.” She called over her shoulder. Naevia had been in quite a state on her errand to bring the sealed message to Vel. But to see what she had just seen nearly broke her brain. She was quite sure that the reanimated tower was the very same one she and her brother had spent the afternoon in the day before. It wasn’t coincidence. She had no idea what it was, but happenstance it was not.

~~

“Could Princess Minicia not make the journey?” Cassia was not surprised the princess failed to join her regents. Few saw her at all these days. She remembered Fortinbras had said something about wanting to make her acquaintance. But Cassia didn’t know if her son had done so before he disappeared. He’d certainly not reported it to her.

“Sadly, she caught cold and couldn’t make the journey. But she hopes she may yet travel for the wedding itself. Such a glorious union.” Queen Cesphea smiled over at Bantia and Hostus, the engaged couple sitting at the center of the table in the long hall. Cesphea’s black eyes lingered on Bantia’s slender neck, and the delicate clavicle exposed by her formal stola.

“Thank you, your majesty.” Bantia blushed when she caught the queen’s eye. “I find my future husband and the Gala family to be the perfect match.” She shivered. But she was unsure whether it was the uncommon chill in that great hall, or from the appraising eyes that fell on her.

“You are certainly matched in the quality of your stock, loyalty to the crown, and tranquil temperaments.” Tiberius leaned away from his wife, Queen Valeria, and moved conspiratorially closer to Bantia. He had a devilish twinkle in his eye. “But I wonder as to your match in the service of Venus. My queen hates when I state plain fact, but, Lady, you are a good deal taller than your lord.”

All the women around the table averted their eyes and blushed at the euphemism for sex. All, that is, but the queens regent and the sorceress Brynhild. Valeria looked like she might be cross with her husband. Brynhild and Cesphea both regarded the young couple with amused expressions.

Cassia cleared her throat. Normally, she would not tolerate crass talk. But when it came from the consort regent, she was forced to swallow it. “I’m sure Venus will bless them in their union and give them many children that we might further our houses through the generations.” She held up her wine goblet.

“Hear, hear. Hear, hear.” Murmured people around the table.

“Very fine words, Duchess.” Valeria smiled at her hostess. “I wonder, after lunch, would you mind if my sister and I wandered the castle a bit? We haven’t been here since our uncle was king and your husband was Duke.” She said it in a friendly manner, but a solemnity settled around the table. The mention of the former king and the former duke brought to mind reigns that ended before their time. A touchy subject when celebrating a new union.

“It would be wonderful to see the places we played as girls.” Cesphea put her left hand on her sister’s right hand.

Tiberius shifted in his seat uncomfortably.

“I would be happy to give you a tour.” Cassia forced a smile onto her face.

“Thank you for the offer, but we would prefer to keep our company to queens only,” Valeria said.

“Queens regent, you mean.” Bantia did not mean to let that out of her mouth, but the royal intrusion into her celebration had pushed her mood more than she’d realized.

“Bantia!” Cassia looked with disquieted eyes between her daughter and the queens regent.

“No, it’s quite all right.” Cesphea smiled. “Titles can be so confusing sometimes. We are the queens regent, of course.”

~~

When Naevia had first awoken Vel, his member was as hard as Uzze steel.

Vel found that his cock got harder still when his sister’s lovely face came into focus. But she had news and their games would have to wait. He softened as she showed him the message.

“I waited to open it. It’s still sealed.” Naevia held the scroll up.

“Whose pigeon did she send? Was it going to her home or ours?” Vel did not want to read the message, but knew they would have to. He admired his sister both for her aim with a bow and her bravery taking the bird right from under Dellia’s nose. He wouldn’t want to risk getting on his cousin’s bad side. He’d seen her angry before.

“I couldn’t tell. My arrow mangled the poor thing.”

“Well, let’s read it.” Vel sighed and looked at the scroll as his sister broke the seal. Spying on Dellia was not why they had braved the Inland Sea. The whole journey was turning sideways.

“Let’s see.” Naevia sat on the bed next to her brother and opened the scroll. “It’s coded.” There were a series of marks and tallies. “I know this. Don’t we know this, Vel?”

“Um …” Vel stared at the page completely befuddled.

“This is the code used for procurement in the old empire. Let me see. It’s been a while and I wasn’t really paying attention to those lessons.” Her finger scanned the lines trying to sort it out. “Can you bring me a something to write with?”

“That gets me thinking, Naevia.” Vel, still naked, threw back the sheets, stood, and walked over to his desk. He didn’t even consider how his state of undress might affect his sister. So much had changed between them in so little time. He scanned the desk. The viscount was kind enough to have supplied him with parchment, fine copper pens, and ink wells of the deepest black. He grabbed one of each and returned to bed. “What did the Vulpes do again? Before they were converted by the queens regent into spies.”

“They … um …” Naevia took the writing material from Vel and began scribbling her translation of the code. Her tongue stuck out of the corner of her mouth as she worked. “They … supplied materiel for the army.”

“Yes, exactly.” Vel nodded. He sat quietly for the next half hour while Naevia worked on the code.

Eventually, she finished as best as she could. “Here, what do you make of this?”

Vel read his sister’s writing out loud, “Suspect truth. Rabbit burrows. Masked but seen. Await delivery carrots.” Vel put down the parchment and looked at his sister. “What the …?”

“I don’t know, maybe I decoded it wrong.” Naevia shrugged.

“The code has a code.” Vel looked over at his sister. “But whatever the meaning, something is wrong with our cousin. She secretly brings her husband. She follows us through the streets. She writes strange messages. We have to talk to her.”

“I am not going to confront Dellia. Leave that to Father.” Naevia’s palms went sweaty.

“Father already had his suspicions. He needs no further hints or gossip. He needs something concrete.” Vel stood, walked across the room, and picked up his tunic. He pulled it on. “We must talk to her first. Not to confront her, but to see if we might pry some information out of her. Let’s invite her to my chambers for lunch and see what she says. Maybe we will gather something stronger. Or maybe she will allay our fears.”

“I do not like it.” Naevia pulled her knees to her chest and hugged her legs.

“I do not like any of this. I wish Father would just tell us what he’s doing.”

“You don’t like any of it? Some of this voyage has met with your approbation I trust.” She looked up at him with mock servitude.

“I don’t like that which has to do with Dellia and Father.” Vel finished fastening his robes. “That which has to do with you, has given me more than I ever dreamed to wish for.” To counter the rise between his legs, Vel put Harpastum into his mind. The ball game countered thoughts of his sister’s supple flesh. “Let’s figure out what’s happening with Cousin Dellia, report to Father, and then sail home. I fear we are wearing out our welcome in this city.”

“Oh, gods. I forgot to tell you.” Naevia’s green eyes sparkled with excitement. “One of the towers is rebuilding itself. I saw it with my own eyes.” She stood, grabbed his hand, and pulled him to the window. She threw open the shutters and had him lean out so he could see the tower. “It reaches into the clouds.”

“Rebuilding itself?” Vel looked where she pointed. He’d never seen the like, it dwarfed even the new tower rising at the royal palace. “Naevia.” His voice was a whisper as he took in the sight. “Is that our tower? The one where we …?”

“I think so. Yes.” Naevia squeezed his hand.

“What does it mean?”

“I haven’t the faintest. But I do not love a coincidence.”

“Nor do I.” As Vel looked at the tower and thought back to the corkscrewed Blessed Tower rising at Accipiter Cubitum Palace, a thought occurred to him. Unlike that tower, this one wasn’t blurry. He could see it clearly. He scanned the city. He could see the whole city with its arching architecture quite clearly. In fact, he realized as he turned it over in his mind, his vision had been improved for some time now. Since about the time Brynhild had cursed him. What else had the sorceress done to him?

~~

A slate sign hung on the door to the bath that said it was temporarily closed for cleaning. Brynhild tried the handle but it was locked. She knew very well who was cleaning in there. Merope thought herself clever, hiding behind the only door she had authority to lock. The story of the locked door was probably that they were giving the place a deep clean for royal guests, and didn’t want any of the royal party to wander in and be scandalized by the scullery servants at work.

Brynhild could find the Seneschal, Aulus, and get him to open the door. But then this would be a bigger production than she’d like. And she didn’t want to draw attention to herself with the queens wandering the castle. And also, she had to admit to herself, she didn’t want to wait. She had tried several summoning charms with her left hand since the dust had its influence on her. All had failed. But maybe the urgency of the moment would aid her magic.

Thinking back to days before sorcery began leaking from the world, she remembered how her mind would find the right pitch. Her thoughts worked up the scale and then focused on a ***********, clear note. The key to the lock. She could feel it in the lock just on the other side of the door. So close. She unwound that object in her mind, infusing it with her conjuring spell. Her left hand flicked and closed into a fist. She held it before her and unfurled her fingers. There was an iron key in her palm. It worked. “Well, now, pretty thing, you will not hide from me.” She whispered as she set the key in the lock and turned it. The door swung open.

There were two women working on the bath. Steam filled the air. The place looked clean enough without their work, but they must have their orders. They were so diligently scrubbing tiles that they did not see Brynhild enter. Merope was there. The other woman was a pretty thing, too. Brynhild watched her form as her butt swayed with her work. Best not to be greedy. Cassia wouldn’t notice when one servant goes missing from her work here and there. But if Brynhild took all the pretty ones into her bed, the duchess would eventually take umbrage. “Merope, I require your services.”

Both women froze at the sound of the unexpected voice.

“How did you get in, mistress?” Merope looked to the door. The key should have been on the inside of the lock, but it was on the outside. The sorceress had somehow pulled it through the door. This was a good deal more frightening than a floating ball of light. When the tall, pale woman didn’t respond, Merope looked back down at the gleaming tile below her. An average, frightened-looking woman of the Surround stared back at her in the reflection. What was so special about her that Brynhild had taken this interest? Her vagina gushed as she thought of how that interest had manifested itself over the past few days. “I … I … have to clean.” Merope stayed on her hands and knees.

“I can manage here on my own until your return, Merope.” The other servant said. She wanted the sorceress out of the bath as quickly as possible. Her presence made the woman uneasy.

“No, no, I have to clean here. The duchess said – ow, owwwww.” Merope felt strong fingers twist her ear and pull her upright. The familiar warmth spread from her ear, through her head, and into her core as she stood.

“None of that, little marsh flower.” Brynhild moved her left hand under Merope’s dark hair, and gently held the bare skin on her delicate neck. “There’s a box that needs cleaning.” Brynhild turned to the other servant, who was staring at them, her mouth hanging open. “Carry on here by yourself, I’ll have her back to you in a few hours. Oh, and lock the door after we leave. We wouldn’t want one of the queens wandering in here before it was spotless.” Brynhild left the bath, shepherding Merope with one hand still on the back of her neck.

“Please. Nicias suspects something.” Merope’s mind drifted. She was on a knife’s edge between concern for her marriage and the growing hunger inside her. The heat pulsing through her was making it incredibly hard to think. “I can’t keep doing … the things we do together.” Such things that she never would have suspected existed before their affair had started.

“Shall we retire to my chamber today?” Brynhild squeezed Merope in a forceful but tender way. She could feel the small woman’s muscles relaxing. “Or, did you have a request for some other setting?”

“Please … please … I can’t wait to climb up there.” Merope gave in. “Let me taste you in the sanctum again. Let me …” Her voice trailed off as a pair of women, arm in arm, turned a corner in the hall ahead. A chill breeze blew past Merope and she trembled.

“Ah, sorceress.” Cesphea eyed the tall woman, ignoring the servant that walked before her. “Do you still care for the Tullius clan?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Brynhild stopped and curtsied. But she did not remove her left hand from Merope. Something told her that it was safer hidden under the servant’s lovely hair.

“You have changed. Haven’t you?” Valeria let out a little laugh and it was picked up by her sister. “You are not the woman we knew as girls.”

“Time has passed.” Brynhild could feel Merope’s steady pulse under her palm. She massaged the woman’s spine as she were a favorite dog. “It’s been many years.” She eyed the queens. They were beautiful, but also somewhat wild. Their patinaed copper crowns were tucked into their black hair like treasure peeking from the bottom of the sea.

“That is just the thing,” Cesphea said. “Years were not supposed to matter to you. You have lost all tricks except for that one gift. The talent that let you fight to overthrow the old empire, and yet stand before us a young woman, decades later.”

“As you say, Your Majesty.” Brynhild hated to do it, but she curtsied again. She needed to be done with this and what might the queens say if their focus turned to the smitten servant before them?

“And yet, though you try and disguise it, it is plain that your body is not the slender thing I remember.” Cesphea looked Brynhild up and down.

“That is so.” Valeria nodded her head in agreement.

“I … um … I …” Brynhild turned her gaze away from them, her cheeks hot.

“Given the chance, we’re all bound to let ourselves grow fat.” Valeria pulled her sister past Brynhild and Merope. “Your magic has left and it seems that you’ve put yourself out to pasture, sorceress.”

“Moo,” Cesphea called over her shoulder. “We’re happy that we have provided you land to graze in your remaining years. Remember our kindness.” The queens laughed and passed out of sight.

“Thank you, Your Majesties.” Brynhild turned away from the direction they’d gone. Warmth returned to the hall. “Come, Merope. I now need your skills more than ever.”

“What were they talking about, mistress?” Merope let herself be led down the hall. She was so wet now she could feel it on her legs.

“Their kind, and mine, were at one time competitors.” No longer willing to wait, Brynhild moved them into a run. “And maybe we will be that again someday.” She knew they looked ridiculous running through the castle, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. “With those two lurking about, the temples will not work today. We must climb to my room.”

A little while later, sweaty from their run, their bodies were intertwined on Brynhild’s bed. Their hips moved rhythmically together. The young wife whimpered and moaned.

It was just as good as the sorceress hoped. She nearly forgot all about the queens and their casual affronts.

~~

“These spices would be very good with lamb.” Dellia took the last bite of grilled crane and dropped her fork to her plate. She chewed thoughtfully as she regarded her cousins sitting on the other side of the small table in Vel’s chambers. She swallowed and cocked her head at them. “You two have barely touched your meal. Do the victuals on this side of the sea not agree with you?”

“We’re not hungry, I guess.” Naevia glanced at her brother.

“Well, that’s fine then. Maybe if you two got out more, you’d work up an appetite.” She took a swig of wine and smiled at them. “Well, to gather back around the question you left unanswered when we started this luncheon, have you heard from your father, then? We’ve traveled here, his kin, and we’re met with a ghost. Any news?”

“Nothing.” Vel shook his head. He looked back at Naevia sidelong. They had spent all afternoon with Dellia and gotten nowhere. Perhaps, Vel and Naevia were no good at spy work. Frustration mounted for both brother and sister.

“Strange tidings.” Dellia stood, retrieved her sword belt, and fastened it over her tunic. “Well, keep me in the know. I’m sure we’ll find him soon and figure out how to protect him.”

“Or we could just wait for the delivery of carrots.” It just came out of Vel’s mouth. Frustration had got the better of him. He felt his sister’s left hand slip into his right and grasp tight. Dellia stiffened when he said it, and slowly turned around.

“What is this about carrots?” Dellia took a slow step toward them.

“It’s nothing. Just a joke Vel and I have going about rabbits.” Naevia watched Dellia’s right hand creep toward the sword on her hip. “We’re cousins, Dellia. You’ve known us all our lives.” Pleading entered her voice.

“How did you read my letter?” Dellia eyed one cousin, and then the other.

“We –”

“Never mind that.” Dellia held up her hand to cut off Naevia. “That was a private letter to my father. Did you intercept it? Did it not get to him?” She took a deep breath and waited, but they did not answer. Dellia regarded the Tullius’s, huddled together like frightened kittens. “Shit. How in the underworld did you manage that?” She didn’t know what to do about this.

“Dellia, what’s going on? I am your duke and your family, take your hand off your sword.” Vel tried to lend some command to his voice.

“Let me think for a second.” Dellia turned from them, hand still on the pommel of her sword. What was the extent of their knowledge about this? Did they know her mission? She would have to interrogate them. And then? Well, she did love them and wished no harm upon them. The queens thought highly of Vel, after all. She would have them give up their father, and they would end up heroes before the crown. Everyone would win. Everyone but Gallio, that is. It was a good plan. “Now, young ones, you will tell me all that you know. First, where is Gallio Tullius?” She took another step toward them.

“Don’t let her draw.” Naevia leapt onto her cousin, sure that if the sword came out of its sheath, it would be the end for her and Vel. Their father had been right. Dellia was a traitor. She wrestled with Dellia’s right arm.

“Off me, you … little harpy.” Dellia spun and flung Naevia through the air. Her cousin hit a wall and fell in a heap on a richly woven carpet below. “Now, Vel … Vel … put down the sword.” She found that her other cousin had pulled his sword, and held it out in front of him like his tutor had no doubt instructed. “I love you well, Vel. Drop the sword.” She drew her own sword.

“You want Father dead. What has he ever done to you?” Vel stepped sideways, his weight on the balls of his feet.

“Your father has betrayed the crown, Your Grace. But you, so far, have not. Drop your sword.” Dellia lunged, feinted, parried his thrust, and then spun and lashed out. Loosened from his grip, his sword clattered to the floor.

“No!” Naevia wished very much for her dagger or bow, but having neither she jumped onto Dellia’s back again. The room twirled around her and she gripped tight. She kicked at Dellia’s right arm, and heard the sword fall. In an instant, Vel tackled Dellia, too. The three of them stumbled into a wall. Naevia found herself airborne again, and landed on the bed. When she looked up, Dellia was sitting on top of Vel on the floor, her hands around his neck. “Let go of him,” Naevia screamed. She looked around the room for a weapon. Both swords were on the other side of the struggling cousins. She could hear her brother struggling to breathe. Then a thought hit her. “Your curse, Vel. Use it.” She scrambled off the bed trying to get around them to grab a sword, but Dellia kicked out at her, knocking her backward. Naevia crashed into their lunch table.

“Hush … now … I only want … to ask you some questions.” Dellia could feel his long frame weaken under her. The trick was to cut off enough air that he would surrender, but not so much that she might kill her naive cousin. “That’s it … calm down.” He still struggled, reaching his hands up under the sleeves of her tunic, tightly pressing his fingers onto her bare forearms. “What’s … happening?” Her grip on his neck loosened. A warmth spread up her arms. The most delicious feeling moved into her core and she was suddenly very aware of the rapid thump of her heart.

“Are you okay, Vel?” Naevia propped herself up on her elbows. Spilled saffron rice covered the front of her stola. She couldn’t hear him choking anymore, so that was good. “What should I do?”

“I’m … okay.” The air Vel sucked had never before been so sweet. He could feel his cousin’s hips rocking a little against his abdomen. Despite nearly dying at her hands, his penis swelled. Dellia dressed in a manly fashion, but she couldn’t disguise her beauty. He looked up into her deep, brown eyes and could see doubt there. Doubt was a thing seldom seen in his cousin. “I think … it’s working.”

“What’s working?” Dellia could sense that the tide had turned against her in her struggle with the pair of Tullius siblings, but she didn’t understand why. “What … what … have you done to me?” Dellia had always thought Fortinbras the more attractive cousin, but as she looked down at this tall, gangly teenager, she couldn’t help but admire his strange charisma.

“Just relax, Dellia.” Naevia could see the hunger growing in her eyes. From her own experiences with Vel, she knew that feeling well. “You can stop now, Vel. I think it’s over.” But her brother did not move his hands from Dellia’s bare skin.

“I cannot. She’ll kill me if I let go.” He could feel his cock pressing into her round butt as her hips moved a little faster on him.

“You can’t … do stuff … with her. She’s our cousin and she’s working against Father.” Naevia could see where this runaway carriage of a moment was headed. She had thought, lately, how someday she would have to share Vel with his future wife. She hadn’t liked that thought, but it was inevitable. Sharing him now, with their confident older cousin didn’t sit well with her at all.

“You … suddenly remind me … of Spurrius.” Dellia blinked her eyes and looked down at Vel. That wasn’t quite right, Vel was nothing like her husband. But her stomach and pussy disagreed with her, for she had the same butterflies in her tummy that an intimate moment with Spurrius caused, and she had the same wetness between her legs. “I … don’t understand.” She felt his hardness poking her bottom through her tunic. She had known he was big, but to stab at her with his thing while she sat on his belly, it had to be a very long cock indeed. Her hands, which had been squeezing him tight, now gently touched his throat. Soon, she was unfastening his robes. Heat radiated from Vel’s touch. She wanted to bathe in the feeling forever.

“Vel?” Naevia sat up and brushed the rice off her chest. She watched as her cousin muttered something she could not hear in a confused tone of voice and bent down to kiss Vel softly on the lips. Soon, they were kissing like long lost lovers. Dellia gyrated her hips on his stomach in a way that Naevia would never have suspected her cousin could move. Dellia had always seemed so manly, it was odd to see her feminine side now. Especially after such violence moments before. Naevia’s eyes widened as her cousin opened Vel’s robes, and then unclasped her own sword belt. They broke their kiss. She then reached down and pulled her tunic over her head, tossing it away from her.

“I only want to do this … oh … for a moment longer, then you will tell me … ah … ah … about your father.” Dellia trembled as bolts of lightning shot through her body. She felt the heat emanating from her hips now, she looked down to see Vel’s hands assisting her pelvis in its movements on him, gripping her right above her underwear. “Oh, gods, Vel. Just let me … finish this one time … and then we can … aaaaahhhhhhhhh.” A minor climax took her, and she heard herself cry out. “Spurrius, Spurrrrrrius, oh, my sweet …” By habit, she called her husband’s name, but part of her mind knew it was not Spurrius underneath her.

“What should I do, Naevia?” Vel turned his head to look at the pale, shocked face of his sister. “If I release her from the curse, she will go back to her treachery.” The hips grinding into him paused, as Dellia submitted to another orgasm, but soon they were grinding him again faster than before.

“Give me a moment to think.” Naevia stood up. She could retrieve one of the swords and threaten Dellia, but she remembered how her cousin had handled them before submitting to the curse. She watched as Dellia removed her chest band. The garment had been very tight, for Naevia had not suspected she had breasts that size until Dellia had tossed the band away. Those boobs were paler than the rest of Dellia, but her nipples were quite dark. Now that Dellia’s breasts shook in Vel’s face, Naevia wondered what Vel’s resistance to her would be. Naevia had to admit, the beauty of the mostly naked woman, undulating as she was, would have made Venus proud.

“I want to … crest this hill … one more time … and then we will get back to … our business.” Dellia’s eyes rolled. She scooted her butt back, so that Vel’s cudgel rested on her left cheek and pushed at the small of her back. “Gods, you are large.” She pulled her underwear to the side, and reached down with her hand to rub at her button. Even Spurrius had never wound her up so. She looked down at her cousin’s handsome face, and could see those blue eyes staring at her shaking boobs. The desire evident on his face filled her with pride.

“Have you thought of a way to … um … handle this?” Vel found it embarrassing to grab another woman’s tits with his sister looking on, but when would he have such a chance again? Vel’s hands slid up her sides, moved around front, and cupped Dellia’s boobs, one to each hand. They were heavier than Naevia’s and hung a little lower on her chest. Vel wondered if that was what would happen to Naevia when she entered her twenties, or if maybe it was because Dellia was a taller woman than his sister. He hefted and squeezed his cousin’s breasts and listened to her moans in response.

“I haven’t thought of anything, yet.” Naevia paced the room to avoid staring at the pair of them. She knew how strong-willed Dellia was. Vel was right, if he stopped, she’d be back at their throats. The thought occurred to Naevia that she could slit her cousin’s throat while she was otherwise occupied with Vel. But she tossed that idea out. Traitor or not, Dellia was still a woman they had known all their lives. And Naevia wasn’t a murderer. They needed to turn her to their side. A strong ally she could be for their father. A double agent. But to turn her, Naevia suspected they would have to break her. And there was only one way she could see to do that. “I think …” She hated to say it. She did not want to see her brother coupled to anyone else. But there was no other way. “I think you will have to go the distance with her.”

“How … Vel … how?” Dellia came again, shaking all over. She was now hunching her hips forward and holding her underwear firmly to side, so that the great cock slid against the bottom of her pussy. Another climax sprung her torqued nervous system.

“I’ll do it, Naevia.” He tried to sound heroic, like it was some great sacrifice to resize his cousin’s vagina, but he doubted he fooled anyone. Least of all his sister. “Go ahead and put it in, Dellia. Put it inside you.” He tried to sound convincing.

“Spurrius … Spurrius … only for Spurrius.” Dellia shook her head and fought against the delicious heat that moved through her. “You would … split me in two … he would know.” She wanted nothing more than to reach under her and guide him in, but she couldn’t do that to her husband.

Naevia could see her cousin’s resolve growing. She knew intimately what Vel could do with his cock. In her memory, she went back to the first time he’d entered her. It had been just the tip, but Naevia had known then that she would do anything to have more of him. Dellia needed the same experience, and quickly, before her mind cleared. “You’ll need to put it in. Do it like we did yesterday. Take her like a dog.”

“What?” Dellia’s mind latched onto those words. Like they had done yesterday? Had they? Suddenly, she was no longer sitting astride Vel. Disappointment and relief flooded her mind, pulling her in opposite directions. Without his hands on her, the fog lifted from her brain. She found that she’d been maneuvered onto her hands and knees. She looked over her shoulder and could see the mammoth cock waving back and forth as Vel got himself into position. “Not in a million years, Cousin.” She kicked at him, but her body was slow. He twisted his hips to avoid her foot, and moved in. She turned and reached for his neck again, to continue what she’d started before. What had the queens done by sending her on this mission? Did anyone know what they were up against in Vel? She had to get control of the situation. But as she held him, twisting herself sideways, his hands squeezed her waist, and she shuddered at the warmth.

“What do I do, Vel?” Naevia watched through her fingers, a hand over her eyes. When Dellia had sprung back at him, she’d almost jumped in herself to help her brother. But she could see the fight leave Dellia almost instantly.

“Help me, Naevia. Help me put it in.” Vel kneeled on the floor, holding Dellia as she twisted around in his arms. His cousin’s butt was in his lap, but she was half-turned, so that her face looked up at him, and her hands gently caressed his neck. “I dare not let go of her again.”

“Oh, gods.” Naevia moved toward them. She reached down, pushed Dellia’s hips to make clearance for Vel’s long cock, and then grabbed the fevered organ. “This really is the only way, Vel.” She said it more to convince herself than him. She found Dellia’s slick opening with the wide head, and pushed it in.

Dellia gave a scream of pure joy. That mighty thing was in. It had opened her up and she felt her body stretching and accommodating. She wondered, breathlessly, if it would fit. And then her butt rested on Vel’s thighs and she realized it was all inside her. Her hips moved on their own. She had never experienced anything of the like. Her mind hooked on Spurrius for the briefest second, and then all thoughts of her husband were gone. The pleasure pushed him out of her mind. With him, went her mission, the queens, her father. All responsibilities and loyalties faded with each thrust of her hips. An animal whined in the room with them, and it dawned on Dellia that she herself made those noises.

Naevia stepped back and watched Dellia’s tight butt pound back into her brother. She could see Dellia’s pink lips strained around Vel’s thick, veiny shaft. “Gods, Vel. You’ll surely break her.” Part of her wanted this to stop, to keep her brother to herself forever and always. And part of her wanted this woman broken and tamed like a wild horse. “Break her in, Vel,” she whispered. “Break the traitor.”

 

Chapter 8

The grunting, moaning, and slapping echoed off the walls of Vel’s chambers in the viscount’s castle. Naevia was grateful for the thick walls built to keep out the desert’s heat. Did Naevia sound like such a wild animal when she and Vel rutted? She didn’t think so, but she so lost herself in her pleasures with him that she couldn’t be sure. She guessed that Dellia might sound very much like this in the throes of pitched battle. Grunts, squeals, and curses came out of their cousin’s mouth as Vel took her from behind.

“You’ve … aaahhhhhh … fucking … broken me … Cousin. Stop … and I promise … I will forget it.” Dellia tried to look back at him over her bare, tensing shoulder. Her eyelids fluttered as he hit some deep place inside her that Spurrius had neglected with his smaller tool. “Just pull … gods damn … out.” The heat that spread from Vel’s cock deep in her belly and from his hands on her hips fogged her brain and sapped her of her agency.

“Naevia?” Vel was trying not to enjoy himself too much in front of his sister. But punishing Dellia for her treachery by possessing her from the inside out was a high he had not yet known. “What should I … uh, uh, uh … do?”

“She’s asking you to pull out of her. She’s not making you.” Naevia bit her lip. This really was the only way. Right? Maybe the curse was a gift. Dellia would have hurt them otherwise. And she would have hurt their father. “That means it’s working. Keep going. Don’t stop, no matter what she says. We can’t let her go until she swears her allegiance to the Tullius clan.”

“How … ugh … about it?” Vel’s hips slammed into his cousin’s tight butt. He moved as if he was an automaton. “Will you … swear to … help me … and … uh … uh … uh … my sister … and … my father?”

“N … n … never,” Dellia said as she dropped her head to look back at the floor. She tried to focus her gaze on the iron ring on her left hand. She knew a nerve ran from her fourth finger directly to her heart. That was the power of a wedding ring. But her cousin’s cock had somehow attenuated that nerve. Vel’s power and the pleasure he coaxed out of her were attempting to usurp everything that mattered to Dellia. “I am … oooohhhhhh … loyal to the crown … and to my father. Agh … agh … aggghhhhhhhhhh.” She bucked her hips back at him and let out a series of low grunts. She was at the mercy of another climax. There was no mention of her loyalty to her husband.

Naevia sat herself on the edge of the bed and watched. Her pretty, unlined face twisted in awe. Did she actually enjoy seeing this traitor treated thusly? Would she enjoy it even if Dellia had not tried to betray them? She worked hard to keep her hand from going under her stola. After a while, she could see some clarity return to Dellia’s eyes, and the woman’s back flexed in such a way that it looked like she was working herself up for action. Vel needed to do more. “You must take her harder, Vel.”

“I’m … getting … tired.” He was indeed sucking in air as if he’d just run a race. But also, he couldn’t hold back the flood much longer. Thinking about sports was not working in the least. Not when he could look at the impact ripples on Dellia’s tight butt. To make matters worse, his mind kept returning to the idea that he had to vanquish the treachery inside her. And the battle for that conquest, waged inside her pussy, excited his mind into a frenzy he could not easily quell. “And I think … I’m going to …”

“Oh … oh, my.” Naevia rubbed her legs together. “Well, you cannot stop. Or pull out.” She watched her cousin.

Apparently Vel’s words had further sobered Dellia. She looked over at Naevia with a dark look, but said nothing.

Naevia nodded to herself. “First, you need to regain some control, Vel. Grab her hair. No, at the top. Yes, like that. Now, pull her head up and back so that she’s forced to arch her back.” The man Naevia had once lain with had done this to her. At the time, she’d thought it was pure magic. But now she knew that such tricks in the hands of that man were just parlor games. But in Vel’s hands, she could only imagine what this would do to Dellia. “Good, now really drive it into her.” Naevia’s eyes went wide at the sight of it. He was so long, and pulled back so far with each thrust. Power seemed to flow from Vel in waves.

“Aaaaaaagggggghhhhhhhh.” Dellia orgasmed again. She could feel Vel striking to her very center. With her back curved, she could feel him poking at the front of her belly. Did his penis want to find another way out? He was driving her crazy. His words about his impending orgasm floated out of her mind.

“Going to … do it …” Vel looked over at his sister with longing and guilt. He did not want to plant a baby in his cousin, and he certainly didn’t want to do it while the love of his life looked on. He raised his eyebrows in an unsaid question.

Naevia understood him well. “You’ll just have to put it all inside her. I didn’t tell you, but when you did it in me, I never felt closer to you. It bonded us. It made us as one. She will feel the same thing. I know it.”

“Naevia … here … goes …” Vel felt like his balls might be glowing. He’d never tried so hard to hold back and he knew a monster eruption was moments away. He tightened his grip on Dellia’s brown hair, and her narrow hip.

“Wait … wait … Spurrius … ugh … ugh … fuck! … ugh … ugh … the Bellius … line.” She was stronger than her tall, gangly cousin. But she lacked the fortitude to break away. For the first time in her life, she found something she could not fight: her own pleasure. She heard a growl that she would not have suspected from her nineteen-year-old cousin, and then fire filled her from the inside. Dellia howled and fireworks danced before her eyes. The young, upstart duke planted his seed. In that moment, she wanted nothing more than to provide a fertile furrow for him. As he pushed her over a cascade of ecstasy, she almost prayed to Venus for a successful joining.

Amazed, Naevia watched them. Dellia writhed, grunted, and hissed as she pushed back. Her head still upright with the force of Vel’s grip. Her brother’s whole body jerked spasmodically, his face contorted, and his eyes shut tight. She knew they had just pushed Dellia over her Rubicon. It seemed that the cousins climaxed together for minutes. Eventually, Vel released his grip on her and sat back on the floor. His long cock slid out of her with a wet plop and flopped up to his belly, leaving a smear of their combined cum above his navel. Naevia rushed over to him, dropped to her knees, and flung her arms around him. “How do you feel?” She was happily surprised when he turned his head and kissed her.

His arms went weakly around her shoulders and he broke the kiss, panting. “I … feel ...” He held her at arm’s length, looking into her deep, green eyes. “Are you angry?”

“How could I be? I told you to do it. I put you inside her.” Naevia had been blindsided by everything on that trip. There was a relic tower that they had somehow nudged out of its slumber in that very city, and it was not even close to her strangest experience. “Did she feel good to you?” Naevia persisted.

“I thought I … knew you. I thought you were … innocent … teenagers,” Dellia panted. Now lying face down on the floor, Dellia’s chest pressed at the cold tile with each rasping breath. Her nipples were hard and rebellious at the almost painful sensation. “But you are … some sort of abomination … before the gods. How can a brother and sister …?” With some difficulty, she propped herself up on an elbow and looked back at them. She knew if they cared to look, she was giving them a show, but she didn’t have the energy to close her legs at the moment. “And you’ve soiled me … with your filth. You better pray –”

Without thinking, Naevia smacked her cousin’s butt like she would a braying hound to shut her up. “Quiet.” And to her surprise, Dellia did stop talking. But the look in her eyes was dark. Naevia’s gaze fell down to the backstabber’s vagina. She could see the delicate brown hair around her gash, the froth on Dellia’s lips, and Vel’s semen leaking out of her. She smacked Dellia’s ass cheek again and watched it shake with some satisfaction. With Vel’s gift, they had tamed the most wild of horses. The fight had gone out of their cousin. “Do you feel bonded to him?” She asked Dellia. “Do you feel the warm gravity inside you, pulling you back to him? I know that feeling, too. For me, there was never a purer joy, for I love him above even myself. But for you? I see how it casts a shadow on your countenance. Don’t look so surly, Cousin. Do you swear loyalty to us now?”

“When I get my sword –” She stopped talking as Naevia slapped her butt again. Her cheeks reddened and her brow knitted. How could she be so cowed by teenagers? She needed to get up and flush out her vagina with saltwater immediately. But she just lay on the floor like she was their broken pleasure servant.

“I will have to mount her again.” Vel looked down at the hourglass of Dellia’s body as she lay before him. He could see that her vagina now yawned open where he’d stretched her. “I will have to mount you, Dellia. I cannot match your sword.”

“You speak truth, Vel. You must take her again.” Naevia gave his cock a light tap to emphasize the point. She watched it wobble a moment, and then she reached out and helped Dellia close her legs. “Don’t look at me so,” Naevia said to Vel. “I’m helping you. You mount her like this.” Naevia straddled their cousin’s butt, and thrust her hips a few times to show Vel how it might be done. She was maybe a little jealous of him, as she looked down on Dellia’s strangely quiescent form. Naevia dismounted and moved herself to her seated position on the bed. Goodness, she had just dry-humped Dellia’s tight, round rump. What were things coming to? Under her stola, Naevia’s underwear was nothing better than a saturated bog.

“Will I fit like this?” Vel could barely see her vagina with her legs together as they were, Dellia lying flat on her belly. But the sight was beyond inviting.

“No,” Dellia said into the tiles.

“Yes,” Naevia said at the same time. “The marvel is that you fit at all. But this position should be no hindrance. You have both already readied the way. See how she waits for you. Hurry, before she turns restless again.”

“Very well.” Vel lined up the head with Dellia’s opening. He heard her whimper, but she said nothing more. He had to angle his cock down a bit, but that was no problem. He sunk right in, braced his hands on the fine curve of her lower back, and found a rhythm with his hips. He could tell from her cries that she was already meeting another climax.

Naevia watched them all afternoon. Eventually, sometime after her brother’s third orgasm, her hand found its way under her stola. She pleasured herself as the cousins pleasured each other. She had no idea how many times Dellia’s ecstasy crested, but her grunts, cries, and curses were nearly nonstop. Eventually, Vel grew tired of his position behind Dellia, and turned her onto her back. Naevia was concerned the woman might try to bite Vel, or otherwise make an assault. But it seemed she didn’t have it in her. Dellia let him have his way with her. She even locked her legs around his butt, accepting his torrent every time Vel needed a release.

The pungent, salty smell of sweat mixed with cum filled the room. All three were bound by the moment, continuing their various states of participation until long after the sun set, and the room fell into darkness. Vel could finally go no longer, and he pushed Dellia off him. She had just ridden him to his last orgasm of the day. He then stumbled to bed. Naevia sprung up to help and laid him down onto the sheets. She then gathered her dagger, and sat next to him, one hand on his snoring chest, the other on the blade’s handle. “If you try for our lives, I will finish you, Dellia,” she said into the darkness.

“You have already finished me,” came the mumbled response from the blackness on the floor. Dellia rolled herself over twice and found a wool rug that was softer than tile. She knew her leaking body would make a mess of that fine bit of woven artistry, but she couldn’t move herself anywhere beyond. She closed her eyes, her body an aching mix of longing, languid satisfaction, and tense obstinance.

“I will not sleep this night.” Naevia wondered if that was true. She was very tired, but determined to watch over Vel. “You will not harm His Grace.” That was the first time she’d addressed his new title without sarcasm in her voice. “I will not sleep.”

“As you will,” Dellia mumbled. And she drifted into strange dreams filled with new senses and a compelling sense of tumescence.

~~

“You are the scullery servant that was with the witch, were you not?” The cool voice startled everyone in the scullery.

“I was with my mistress, the Sorceress Brynhild.” Merope shivered. Despite the pot of boiling water, the room had suddenly taken on some sort of arctic draft. “I was with her in the hall when we saw you,” she quickly added, wanting to avoid any insinuations. Especially with her good husband looking on only feet away.

“I am Nicias. Can I help Your Majesties?” Nicias stepped toward the identical queens. How odd it was that they should roam the castle without their retainer. He had noticed that they hadn’t employed food tasters at their meals, either. They must have a deep trust of the Tullius House. “Is there something that needs scrubbing? Because we –”

“Quiet,” Cesphea said. “We require nothing from you. We simply wish to borrow your scullery wench for a little while.”

Nicias turned red in the face. “Really, I can be of –”

“You do not argue with a queen.” Valeria gripped her scepter a bit tighter. She watched as Merope reached for and squeezed the hand of the impudent Nicias. Valeria’s jaw softened at the sight of them. She understood that they were married. That’s why he acted so. “Never fear, Nicias. We will have her back presently.” This was not true.

“I’ll be back soon.” Merope gave her husband’s hand one last squeeze. She tried not to let him see how frightened she was. Had the queens somehow found out about her repeated and escalating infidelity with the sorceress? Would she be punished? She could tell the twin sisters were impatient, and it would not do to keep the queen regents waiting. She followed them out of the scullery, through the kitchens, and into the corridor. The queens walked ahead of her, their pale chins high, and their backs straight.

There was silence for a while, and then Merope saw one of the queens whisper to the other one. She couldn’t hear what was said, but they both laughed. Nor could she tell which queen was which. They looked too much alike. She studied their backs as they climbed the stairs. They each had an identical birthmark on the back of their slender necks. No, that wasn’t right. The small crescent mark faced left on the neck to Merope’s left. But on the queen to her right, the mark faced right. So, they were not identical. Same mark, opposite directions. She could tell them apart, if they ever identified to her which one was which. But, of course, dukes and barons would not dare to ask such a thing, so what was a servant to do?

After many stairs, they came to a floor Merope knew well. And then to a familiar door. Her pulse thumped like a brass drum in her ears. One of the queens turned back to regard her.

“You are a small, frightened thing. Aren’t you?” Cesphea cocked her head at the woman. “Despite it though, she’s quite pretty. Isn’t she, Valeria?”

Merope twisted her hands together as they all stood outside Brynhild’s door. So, the one with the right facing mark was Cesphea. And the other was Valeria. She could remember that. She looked from one to the other of them.

“She probably wants to know what we’re doing here.” Valeria put her hand to the door. A brief glow of red light settled around her fingers and the door swung open. She reached up, adjusted her copper crown, and looked at the servant. “She is pretty,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “But clearly, we’ve scared her witless. Don’t worry, the witch isn’t here now,” she said to Merope. “We’ve tasked her with some engagement. She’ll be busy for quite a while. Come in.” She glided into the room, her gown flowing behind her. Merope followed, and then Cesphea walked into the chamber last, closing the door behind them.

Merope’s jaw had dropped when the queen had clearly used magic to open a charmed door. She hadn’t known the queens regent were sorcerers. Was that common knowledge?

“Look at the diminutive wheels spin in her head.” Valeria laughed. “You haven’t the foggiest, do you …? What was your name?”

“Merope, Your Majesty.”

“Well, look at that. The little beauty can talk. You’ll be singing before long, sweet thing.” Cesphea patted Merope on the butt and walked around to stand next to her sister. It pleased her the way Merope stiffened at the intimate gesture.

“You’re wondering what this is all about.” Valeria walked over to the table where Brynhild’s books sat in piles. She put down her scepter, and leafed through the volume on top. She seemed uninterested in Merope’s presence.

“Don’t share too much.” Cesphea, put down her scepter, too. But she stood in front of Merope, eyeing her with a warm smile. “You always share too much.”

“Right you are.” Valeria sighed as she looked at what Brynhild had been reading. “It is enough for you to know that Cesphea and I are not, strictly speaking, sisters.”

“But … but …” Merope’s smooth brow furrowed in confusion. “You look exactly alike.”

“Not quite.” Cesphea turned her back to Merope. “Unfasten my gown.”

With trembling fingers, Merope undid the clasps down the queen’s back. Valeria did not watch, she seemed to have found something interesting in Brynhild’s book.

Merope looked at the delicate spine that arched into view as the gown opened. Something stirred in her. Had the sorceress made her develop a taste in the same sex? But this was a queen, she dared not let her fingers glance upon that alabaster flesh. As the gown fell to the floor, Merope saw that in addition to the common chest band, the queen wore some sort of restrictive band around her hips instead of underwear.

“After the accident, our uncle made me learn to hide myself. And he had to invent, in the popular imagination, that there had always been two of us. Always sisters.” Cesphea turned around. It was clear now that the band around her hips was there to restrain what was in front.

“I … I … don’t understand.” Merope looked down at what clearly was a large, soft penis bound under the band. She watched Cesphea wiggle her wide, feminine hips as she lowered the restraints down her legs. The image of that very male thing, hanging between her feminine legs gave Merope the kind of shock that nearly turned her brain off. “I … I … I …”

Valeria glanced over, barely interested. “Are you broken already, Merope?” She smiled when the woman did not answer. The servant did not even turn her gaze away from Cesphea’s smooth, slumbering serpent. Valeria sighed. “Well, at any rate you can see what she has waiting for you. I possess nothing of the sort between my legs. She also has a hunger that I myself do not possess. I will look through the witch’s things and find out whether our suspicions are founded. You will amuse my sister.”

“Why … me?” Merope squeaked. She had lived such a plain, simple life until only a short while ago. And now this. Everything spun faster and chaos reached out its tentacles all around her. An ever-widening gyre had enveloped Merope’s world.

“Only because it seemed to us that the witch wanted you. This is an easy enough message to send to her. Oh, and you are pretty.” Valeria went back to searching through a parchment on Brynhild’s desk.

“Is it time?” Cesphea looked over at the back of Valeria’s head. She undid the chest band and stood before Merope wearing only her sandals and crown. Merope was fully clothed in her stained stola, but Cesphea could tell she had a pleasing shape underneath.

“Enjoy yourself, Sister,” Valeria said over her shoulder.

“Please me well, Merope, and you shall earn the queens’ favor.” Cesphea took in several breaths, releasing the control she placed on her phallus. She let it swell at the sight of this small, olive skinned woman trembling before her.

“I … cannot …” Merope blushed so deep she was sure she now looked purple. Her eyes did not, could not, leave that strange royal penis. It was so pale, and smooth. Too smooth, really. The only blemish on the thing was the hole up top. It rose, engorging itself. The base was nestled in a thinly populated patch of dark hair, and two overripe testicles dangled beneath it. The thing curved a little to left, but stuck well out from the queen’s person. Was it fully hard now? It was maybe twice, or even thrice the size of her husband’s thing. Oh, her poor husband.

“In this matter, I’m afraid, I will not accept a refusal.” Cesphea’s smile turned imperious and victorious. “Drop to your knees, sweet thing, and have a taste.” As she said it, a trickle of clear liquid leaked from the head of her cock. “You wouldn’t want to disappoint me.” She looked down at Merope’s iron ring with her dark, wild eyes. “Your husband wouldn’t want you to disappoint me.’

“Yes.” Merope dropped to her knees. With tentative, shaking hands she reached out for the long, sleek tool. In fact, she was quite sure that Nicias would happily give his life to stop what she was about to do. But that wasn’t his choice to make. The threat was clear, and she had the opportunity to save him. She shook when her hands came in contact with the phallus. It was cold. Too cold to be a part of this living, breathing woman. She caressed it softly, as she would for her husband. “Is this good, Your Majesty?”

“Well, no. But you’ll learn.” Cesphea laughed, and her sister snickered over by the table.

“Right.” Merope remembered what the queen had said about tasting it. She stuck out her tongue and slowly, very slowly, leaned forward. This was so unlike her infidelity with Brynhild. There, Merope had been burning in a fire of hunger for the tall, northern woman. But here, in this moment, she only hoped the queen would be pleased completely and quickly, and then she could put the whole thing behind her. Her tongue came in contact with the salty fluid leaking from the winking hole in the cock’s head. It wasn’t as bad as she feared. She licked again. The stuff was frigid, just like the rest of Cesphea, but it had a favorable taste. She licked at it like the iced treats she’d seen the Tullius children enjoy.

Cesphea sighed with exasperation. “You look like a cat at the milk dish. Here, let me help.” She reached into the back of Merope’s dark curls, took a handful of hair, and pulled her face forward.

“Ggggggpppppphhhhhhhh.” Merope put her hands on the front of the woman’s hips to brace herself. She had to breathe through her nose and stretch her jaw as wide as it would go. She wondered at how sure of herself Cesphea was that she wasn’t worried about Merope’s bite. Soon, her head was bobbing back and forth under the queen’s forceful guidance. Her eyes watered. After nearly choking on the thing several times, Cesphea had found Merope’s gagging point and stopped each thrust about a quarter of the way down the shaft. Merope wondered at how ludicrous she must look, kneeling before a queen still in her crown, gobbling that giant thing, with drool dribbling down her chin.

“No need to brace yourself.” Cesphea relaxed a little. The pleasure was starting to mount. The young servant and wife was learning. She could feel the woman’s tongue involve itself more in their dance, rolling around the head. “Remove your hands from my hips.” She looked down with a smile as the fellating woman held her hands awkwardly in the air. “The gods gave you hands, use them.”

“Mmmpppphhhh.” Merope tried to give her assent. She took hold of the penis and pumped the strange thing. It was so different from Nicias, that she scarcely recognized them as the same species. But then again, they scarcely were.

“Stop toying with her and break her in.” Valeria did not look up from the notes she rifled on the table. “The witch will be back presently.”

“Yes, you’re right.” Cesphea pulled Merope’s mouth off her, stood the panting woman up, and pulled the stola off her. She then roughly removed the chest band and underwear. Merope’s body did indeed please her. “Have you found anything? Has she betrayed us?” Cesphea then threw Merope onto the witch’s bed and climbed on after her. The small woman was on her side, her legs scissored back and front. She admired how Merope’s heavy breasts hung to the left with gravity. She straddled the back leg and let her cock bounce on the woman’s ass cheek. This would do nicely.

“I see no evidence of betrayal.” Valeria listened to the woman whimper. Her sister did so love to make her women whimper. “But she is dabbling in magics that should no longer concern her. She is reading on spells lost to all but …” Her voice trailed off and she put her finger on the page. In the background, she could hear Merope’s grunt as Cesphea entered her, and then the slow, ponderous slap of flesh on flesh. “I knew that protection spell on the door was odd. She’s added something that the North hasn’t used since the towers fell. A clever charm.”

“Does she … ugh … have some sort … of enhancement device?” Cesphea grabbed Merope’s right ass cheek tightly with both hands. She left Merope’s legs scissored. The servant was on her side still, so that while Cesphea took her from behind, she could also see Merope’s pretty fast twist in ecstasy. This pussy was a tight one. Whatever Brynhild was doing with her, she was not stretching her much. And her husband had left her nearly virginal. That was good. Cesphea had always planned on keeping this one, just to spite the witch. But now, she was looking forward to the time she’d spend with Merope over the coming months.

“I’m not sure what she has, or maybe she’s making one last gasp before our tower lays her to waste,” Valeria said.

“You’ll see the Blessed Tower soon … ugh … ugh … enough, sweet thing.” Cesphea caught Merope’s frantic eyes with her own and winked. “But tell me. What do you … ah … ah … ah … think of my personal, blessed tower?”

It was clear to Merope that the queen was boasting about her cock. And she had reason to be proud. “It’s … oooooohhhhhhhh … good. It’s … like … nothing … aaaaahhhhhh.” She lost her focus and could no longer answer. She was taking every inch of that tower, and it had turned her body to jelly. She had gone from the tame, timid sex ordained by the gods with her husband. To wicked, mind-alerting sex with Brynhild. To something with a queen regent that was melting the very fabric of reality for poor Merope. She knew her body would never be the same. She doubted her husband would even recognize her nethers once the queens let her go. She also knew that her mind was lost. She only hoped she would recover it once the queen had her fill. “Oooooohhhhhhhh.” A flood of ecstasy spread over the planes of her mind and she had no more cohesive thoughts for some time. Somewhere, far back in her mind, she heard the sisters, who were not sisters, talking about something. But she could not bring her mind to focus on the words.

A while later, Merope found herself riding Cesphea with wild, thrusting hips. She looked down between her own dangling breasts at the fat shaft that she took over and over. It was a continual surprise to her that it did not hurt her. Indeed, it drove her nearly mad with gratitude. What a boon to be able to take that royal cock inside her. She was dimly aware of the door opening and a tall, platinum blond woman stepping inside. But she could not focus on this event. It was too far outside her vortex of pleasure. Instead, she gripped Cesphea’s breasts below her for leverage, and continued slamming down her hips.

“What?” Brynhild was not normally one to be scandalized. But to find her very own Merope bouncing like a common whore on the … the … abomination that was one of the queens regent. She narrowed her eyes. It was Cesphea. And there was Valeria to her left, going through Brynhild’s things. “What is the meaning of this?”

“You may finish your claim now, Sister.” Valeria spoke first to her sister and then turned toward the door. “I would watch your tone, Sorceress. Remember to whom you speak.”

“Apologies, Your Majesty.” Brynhild forced herself to curtsy. On the bed, Cesphea grunted louder under Merope, and then the little woman howled on top of her. Cesphea’s hands clamped down on Merope’s hips and forced her all the way down, so that the cock was as deep as it could be. But even so, Merope’s hips continued to gyrate, and she screamed as if there were no witnesses. Brynhild closed the door behind her. What had they done to her sweet scullery servant?

“My sister will be finished in a moment.” Valeria glanced at Cesphea. The pair on the bed had now collapsed together, but Cesphea was still grunting as she pumped more blessed seed into Merope. “So, I will tell you what you need to know.” Valeria casually lifted her scepter. “The last two dukes of Ostia Novus behaved in ways which we found adverse to the crown. We always must look out for the welfare of Princess Minicia. And we worried that her life might be in danger. So, we dug into things and found that the rest of the family was loyal and true. But you, we couldn’t be sure of. You certainly dabble in odd magic. But … now that I have you before me … it’s clear. You really are only a shadow of your former self. Are you not?”

“I am.” Brynhild bowed her head.

The couple on the bed had stopped groaning and grunting.

“So, we will go now. But know that we are watching.” Valeria glanced at the sweaty, gasping bodies on the bed. “And we will take your little scullery servant with us so that you may be reminded of our reach. We are, quite literally, everywhere.”

“But the duchess will not hear of losing a servant like this. She’ll –”

“She’ll lend us the servant with her blessings. We are her queens.” Cesphea said from the bed.

“Now leave us. Her Majesty needs to freshen up.” Valeria nodded to the bed.

“Of course.” Brynhild gritted her teeth and forced another curtsy. She turned, opened the door, and strode out of her own chamber.

~~

“I thought you were going to stay awake the whole night?” Vel blearily rubbed his eyes. He shook his snoring sister next to him in bed until she was awake. He was sore. His whole body, even his penis, ached from the previous day’s exertions. That had been a lot, even for him on that strange trip. He and his sister had yet to try such a marathon.

“What?” Naevia opened her eyes and sat bolt upright, her hand clutching the handle of the dagger. She crawled to the foot of the bed and looked down. Dellia was not on the floor where they’d left her. And her clothes were gone. More ominously her sword had disappeared, too.

“Well, we’re not dead. Or bound. Or hanging over a fire pit.” Vel looked around the room. The sun was up and pale light settled over everything. “So maybe that’s good news?”

“What should we do?” Naevia got out of bed. She still wore her stola from yesterday, but Vel was naked on top of the sheets. She longed to rejoin him in bed, but perhaps that might not be how they’d like to be found by Dellia and her Vulpes accomplices.

“We could flee?” Vel wondered if they had handled Dellia the right way. Could a woman really be pleasured into submission? The thought seemed silly to him now.

“We could find Mercury and alert Father.” Naevia gathered some fresh clothes for Vel. Whatever they were to do, he needed to be dressed while they did it.

“Let’s not force a decision now. We flee the viscount’s castle, regroup in the city. Then we can decide.” Vel leapt out of bed. He could still smell a thick cloud of sex hanging off him. He looked longingly at the adjoining bath, but dressed. He was pleased to find that Dellia hadn’t absconded with his sword. He sheathed it and fastened the belt. “And let’s travel with weapons. All the weapons we can find.”

Naevia rushed about the room. She retrieved her bow. “It’s the start of a plan. And that’s something.”

“It is something,” Vel agreed.

They met at the door, ready for whatever greeted them outside.

“I love you, Vel.” Naevia stood on her tiptoes for a quick kiss on the lips as he bent down to her.

“And my love for you only grows.” He clasped her hand. “I am somewhat surprised you’re not furious at me for carrying on with the traitor as I did.”

“I find it impossible to be furious with you, Your Grace.” The familiar teasing lilt entered her voice. They each put a hand on the door. “One, two … three.” They opened it and raced out into the corridor.

 

Chapter 9

“She’s missing?” Cassia frowned at her seneschal. She didn’t need this right before the evening fete. This was Bantia’s big night. Second only to the wedding itself. “Maybe she ran off? Servants do that from time to time. Can we just find someone to fill in? We do need washers in the scullery for tonight.”

“It’s more than that.” Aulus watched the duchess closely. She seemed poised, but he was fearful of breaking the bad news. “The missing woman’s husband also serves in the scullery, and he is threatening that the whole scullery forgo work until she is found.”

“A strike?” Cassia stood and rushed to the doorway. “I will see to this.” She paused at the door and looked back at Aulus. “What is his name, and is he in the scullery now?”

“Nicias. And yes, you may find him there.” Aulus watched her rush out, her stola trailing behind her. He had no doubt that she would set things straight.

~~

Dancers twirled in the lamplight. The percussion of feet and drums echoed around the courtyard. Cassia smiled as she watched Bantia, towering above the other women. Her daughter moved with such joy. Bantia’s future husband looked lively too, leading the men in their concomitant dance.

“Any trouble, Duchess?” Valeria leaned over and offered a faint smile to Cassia. The queen regent also watched the wild fete. “You almost missed the opening.”

“Just a small staffing issue. We’re missing one of our servants, but I made promises, and found a replacement.” She glanced at Valeria and Cesphea. And then looked beyond to their mysterious guest. A young woman with a regal face, but poor posture as she slumped in her chair. To be honest, the woman looked under the influence of some narcotic. “Everything is fine, Your Majesty.”

Cesphea giggled, and Valeria gave her a stern look. Valeria looked back at the dancers, casually talking to Cassia. “My sister notices your covert looks at our new companion.”

Cassia said nothing. She could tell when a person was playing a game with her, and she had no interest in moving across another’s board.

“Unfortunately, we were the cause of your little misadventure. Do you not recognize your own servant?” Valeria gestured vaguely at Merope who sat next to Cesphea. “We had to provide her with a gown, and a formal coronet. And clean her up some, too. So, I do not blame you for your confusion.”

Cassia’s blood boiled. What where they doing? This was beyond anything she would expect from the royal house. She steadied her breathing, keeping her eyes on her joyful daughter. “Oh, really? I don’t spend much time in the scullery, so her face was not that familiar to me. Will she be going back to work tonight?” Her voice came out casual. Cassia silently thanked her departed mother for all those years of training.

Cesphea laughed again, a resonant sound mixing in with the percussion. “She will not be … um … available tonight. We have become enamored of her cleaning skills. She will come back to our palace with us on the morrow. You will have to find a permanent replacement for Merope.”

“And what of her husband, Your Majesty?” Cassia looked to her left at where her own retainers sat. She caught the sorceress’s steely, blue eyes. Brynhild looked to be seething. How odd. What exactly had happened to set off that cool, Northern woman? Cassia bit her lip as her gaze drifted back out to the dance floor. She had the impression that some minor skirmish had been fought, and the queens regent were the gloating victors. But why a scullery servant?

“You ask, what of her husband, Duchess?” Valeria’s voice was cold. “He is of no matter. I would think you might be happy that we found such a diligent servant.”

“Congratulations, Your Majesty.” Cassia stood, and curtsied to the queens. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must dance with my daughter.” She glanced once more at her former servant, Merope. The woman’s eyes were glazed, and her face slack.

“Of course.” Valeria nodded and put her hand on her sister’s thigh to keep Cesphea from audibly snickering. “Enjoy your special night. Two great houses coming together is quite the cause for celebration.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Cassia nodded and glided out onto the dance floor. She would put the whole thing out of her mind. That is, until she had had time to investigate on another day.

~~

“Mercury!” Naevia dropped to a knee and opened her arms for the little monkey. It scurried across the corridor and jumped up to her, pawing at her bosom. “Easy, now, that hurts.” She placed him on her shoulder and turned to her brother as he closed the heavy cypress door to his chambers. “We have our messenger.” She pulled a tiny roll of parchment off Mercury’s ankle, unrolled it, and read. “Meet me at the Temple Discordia, it reads. Where is that?”

“Toward the back of the castle.” Vel looked back and forth down the long corridor, expecting the monkey to be a distraction for Dellia’s sword. But only a couple merchants from beyond the Roads of Trade ambled by. Vel nodded and smiled. The men nodded back and walked on, speaking their strange language. When they had passed, he whispered, “Do you have a parchment, Naevia?”

“A little. And some charcoal.” Naevia patted the bag slung under her arm. “Shall I write back?”

“Not now. But if anything goes wrong, we may need to send a message later.” Vel had been offered a tour of the viscount’s castle by Tes-amen several times, but he’d deferred. He’d been busy. Now he wished he’d taken the man up on his offer. “I’m pretty sure we go this way.” They turned left and wound their way to the stairs, dropped two floors, and then tried to head north.

Mercury excitedly chittered on Naevia’s shoulder, screeching here and there like he was offering directions. After a while, they came to a row of cavernous archways. The entrances to several temples. These were the sanctums of the lesser gods, lodged closer to storage rooms and servants’ quarters than the main living areas. They passed the temple of Muta. Then, Pomona, Rumina, and Volumna. Vel, Naevia, and Mercury stopped when the entrance to Discordia’s temple came into view. Sitting on a bench just outside, leaning forward as if she were in deep contemplation, was Dellia. Her sword was still in its sheath.

“Oh. There you are.” Dellia looked over at them like she’d just wakened from a slumber. “I see our friend delivered the message. He’s a good monkey.” She slowly stood, her scale armor softly chiming with her movements. She held out a little scroll of parchment. “When I left this morning, the little guy was waiting right outside your door.”

“Naevia found herself a pet.” Vel’s hand found the hilt of his sword.

“You two always had a way of acquiring pets. Remember the goat you found wandering outside Ostia’s walls? What was he called?” Dellia’s face was dark but inscrutable.

“Um … his name was Ramses.” Naevia could sense something was quite unstable in their cousin. Some sort of warped gear skipping and failing to catch against the rest. “Will you let us pass?”

“Mmm?” Dellia’s face brightened as if she had come to a decision. “On that matter I have had thoughts, secondary musings, and tertiary judgements. First, you should know that I was to report back last evening to Spurrius. When I did not, it seems he became worried. I signaled him outside the castle this morning. He signaled back that all exits are being watched and you are wanted by the Vulpes for questioning.” She absentmindedly put her hand to her belly. “I feel absolutely sick when I think of what they might do to you.”

“Can you … call them off?” Vel looked at his sister. He had gone from fearing the presence of his cousin to realizing that she was their best hope.

“I could, yes.” Dellia nodded slowly and looked into Discordia’s temple. “If I do nothing, they’ll take you. They are only waiting for the viscount’s permission to enter the castle. A strange formality still in place from the time of dragons. I wonder if …” her voice trailed off and she stared blankly into the empty sanctum.

“Will you … please … Dellia? Will you call them off?” Naevia reached for her brother’s hand and pulled it into her grip. It was warm and dry and comforting.

“I want to.” Dellia nodded. “I do. But I can’t signal them such a message. Spurrius would want to see me in person. To know that I am not … coerced. And … I cannot do that now. I feel … very strange about my husband.”

Vel and Naevia exchanged a look with raised eyebrows. They didn’t know what to expect from their cousin.

“We’ll find a way out of this. You don’t want to harm us, and we don’t want to be harmed. So, we have common ground.” Vel took his free hand away from his sword. “What’s the next step?”

“The tunnel?” Dellia looked back and forth between her cousins and the temple door as if she was seeing an obvious solution and they were both idiots. “The tunnel entrance is hidden by Discordia. Very few people know of it.”

“Tunnel?” Naevia did not much enjoy enclosed spaces, but an escape was an escape.

“And then there’s your father’s message.” Dellia held up the small, rolled parchment in her hand. “I took it from the monkey when I left you the note to meet me here.” A vague smile spread across her lips. “It is not only pigeons that can be intercepted.” She closed her fist around the scroll. “Your father wishes to meet you. He gives a time and place. I plan on using the tunnel with you to pass unseen past the Vulpes. We’ll fetch Gallio Tullius ourselves, and then turn him over. All of us heroes. Our loyalty proven. Then, perhaps, I can face my husband again.”

“We’re not –” Vel was cut off by Naevia’s sharp squeeze on his hand.

“We’re not going to say no to that. It’s the only way.” Naevia stepped forward. “Lead the way.”

“Very good.” Dellia sighed with relief. “I’m glad you two finally have some sense between you. And we can forget the … misunderstanding we had yesterday and never speak of it again.”

“I’m sorry, Dellia. You were attacking me and I –” Vel started.

“Never speak of it again, Your Grace.” Dellia turned and marched into the temple. “Now come.” They entered the temple. It was a small room, and although the torches were lit, the place looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in ages. Cobwebs hung from a circle of statues carved into the outer wall. Every statue had a different scale and subject, and they were spaced at uneven intervals. It was distracting to look at.

“Ouch.” Naevia stubbed one sandaled toe on a stone that stuck out of the uneven floor. “This room is a wreck.”

“What do you expect from discord?” Dellia found the switch behind the broken statue of a boar-headed man, and part of the stone wall slid back to reveal a black, yawning mouth of a passage. A draft of cool air pushed past them. “Torches.”

Each of them took a torch from the wall and entered the tunnel. Dellia touched a switch inside and they were suddenly sealed in. Mercury let out a long wail, and clutched tighter to Naevia’s shoulder.

“It’s okay, Mercury.” Naevia patted his tiny back.

“Quiet now,” Dellia hissed. “This tunnel is old and built by magic. I don’t want it falling on our heads.” She stalked off down the tunnel with firm, deliberate strides. She muttered to herself something about the Tullius brats and their pets.

Vel held Naevia back a moment and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “What are we doing?”

“Waiting for our moment to ditch her or change her mind,” Naevia whispered back. “There was no upside to arguing in the castle all day.”

“Right, okay.” Vel held his torch aloft and followed their cousin, Naevia right behind him.

They walked in silence for a long time, the tunnel angling down and down. Presently, they came to a fork. Dellia stopped, her head swiveling as she regarded their two choices. One dark, and one glowing an azure iridescence. “There should be only one tunnel here,” she whispered.

Vel reached up and touched the archway. The stonework seemed ancient. “Perhaps your information was a bit off. This split is old.” He held the torch low and bent down. “You can even see where the stone is worn from feet traveled down both paths. Which way?”

“Perhaps we should follow that blue glow.” Naevia pointed to the right. “It seems the safer way.” There was something compelling about the azure light.

“Yes, I agree.” Dellia sounded almost mesmerized.

“What glow? I see no light but our torches.” Vel watched as both women calmly walked to the right. “Um … this isn’t decided on.” They continued on. Something in the air, stale and foul, wafted from the tunnel on the left. He followed the women to the right. “Yes, follow the glow only women can see. Excellent choice.”

They came to several other forks and each time they took the path that Dellia and Naevia insisted glowed a faint, metallic azure, like the wings of the milkweed beetle. After about an hour, their tunnel ended with a patinaed, copper cage about the size of a storage closet. The thing was intricately wrought with the same discordant characters as those depicted by the statues in the temple long behind them. There was a slim opening, and both women stepped into the cage immediately.

“What is this place?” Vel didn’t like the way the pale, green metal seemed to dance under their flickering torchlight. The flames behaved as if there was a draft, but this was the end of the tunnel. He looked up and saw that cables ran from the cage into a hole in the rock above it. And there were rails, too. Vel stepped into the cage with them.

“Isn’t it beautiful, Vel?” Naevia rubbed his arm.

“The light is like the ocean in a storm as lightning hits. It’s very pretty,” Dellia said in a soft, quavering voice quite uncharacteristic of her. They were close together in the cage, and she involuntarily stood close enough to Vel for her shoulder to push up against his chest. The contact made her tremble. She tried to focus on the mission. They had a few hours to meet and apprehend Gallio Tullius. She would get that done, and the rest would sort itself out. But try as she might, she couldn’t disentangle her mind from the jolts of lightning contact with Vel brought her.

“So, you’re still seeing the blue light?” Vel had been expecting movement, but his heart still leaped when the cage lurched upward. It moved fast enough that wind extinguished the torches. He was in total black. His stomach fell as the cage surged up and up.

“It grows faint.” There was deep disappointment in Naevia’s voice. “The light’s almost disappeared.”

“I see it, too.” Dellia moved closer to Vel, and now felt Naevia press into them. The three huddled in darkness as they hurdled upward. The metal cage and rails whined at them at an increasing pitch.

After a minute, Vel spoke. “How deep under the city were we? It seems –” The cage lurched to a stop and the three of them stumbled together and fell to the floor. They were flooded with daylight. Vel shielded his eyes with his hand and looked at an opening in the shaft they had traveled. All he could see was blue sky. He pushed Dellia off him and stood. He then helped Naevia to her feet and they walked out of the copper cage. As his eyes adjusted, he took in his surroundings. They were on a large, circular space made of stone, with copper guard rails all around. He blinked again. There was a bath to his left, and furniture to his right. It was … the same furniture from the bedroom in the broken tower. “What the …?”

“Vel, do you know where we are?” Naevia took a few unsteady steps and rushed to the guard rail. Far, far below them, the city spread like something from a child’s game. They were so high above it, that she could only barely hear the steady hum of activity always present in Kart Hadasht. The people below looked like ants. She smiled broadly. A surge of energy rushed through her. “Look, Vel, look.” Mercury clung tightly to her shoulder, looking down at the city with wide eyes.

“I’m coming.” He passed a table laid out with grapes, dates, venison, and wine. Vel stopped next to Naevia and her stomach nearly rolled over. Clutching the guard rail, he felt the wind tug at his hair. They were so high up that his mind rebelled. A cold, prickly sensation spread over his skin. He felt himself pitching forward.

“Careful, cousin.” Dellia stood to Vel’s other side. She took a fistful of his robes and prevented him from tumbling over the side. “We didn’t get you all the way out of that castle so you could go flying now.” She tried to wipe the smile off her face, but she could not. Had she ever felt more happy than at that moment? Well, maybe on her wedding day. And maybe, although she would have denied it to anyone that made the assertion, the day before when she’d felt Vel move deep inside her. She looked up at the sun and tried to gauge the time. “We have some time yet before we have to meet your father.” She pulled Vel away from the edge and sat him down on a sofa. She unfastened her weapons and laid them at her feet. Slowly, she undid the clasps to her armor, and dropped it with a jangle. She then pulled off her tunic, kicked off her sandals, and removed her chest band and underwear. “Time for a bath.”

“Are you insane? We’re on the resurrected tower. It could fall.” Vel watched her boobs bounce in unison as she ran over the stones and hopped into the bath with a splash. Maybe this was the distraction they needed to get away from Dellia.

“This is it, Naevia,” he whispered, stood, and turned to his sister.

“Agreed, Vel.” Naevia put down the piece of charcoal she was holding and tucked the rolled note she’d just written onto Mercury’s ankle. “Go find Father,” she said to the monkey. She put Mercury down and watched him run across the floor and scamper down an open hatchway where the stairs began. Mercury disappeared from sight.

“What did you write?” Vel’s eyes widened when he saw her removing her stola. Her weapons were already on the stones about her. Her pale skin was almost blinding in the full sunlight.

“I told him to run,” she whispered. And then much louder, she said, “A bath sounds delightful.” Naevia laughed and moved over to her brother, pushing him toward the water. “How about we wash and then enjoy a midafternoon snack. Those grapes look delicious.”

“Are you … are you drunk?” Vel stumbled as she pushed him. She kicked off her sandals as they went, and tossed her chest band and underwear behind her. He went up right to the edge of the bath and paused, as though she expected him to undress. But instead, she gave him one last shove, his arms windmilled, and he fell into the water.

“I do feel … a little drunk.” Naevia frowned, but her smile returned when she noticed that despite his sputtering, his eyes were on her boobs. She stuck her chest out a little and made a little pose for him. She knew he hadn’t watched Dellia’s nakedness with the same look.

“Your weapons will rust, Your Grace.” Dellia moved languidly in the water over to him and reached under the surface to remove his belt. “You cannot fight with a rusty sword. That’s rule one. Or, maybe rule three.” Her knuckles brushed against his soft leviathan, and she shivered. She tried very hard to keep her mission in the front of her mind. Once Gallio was captured, everything would sort itself out. She lifted his sword out of the water, unsheathed it, and left it in the hot sun to dry. Her breasts brushed against his soaked robes and she shuddered. She leaned up to him and planted an awkward kiss on his lips. She felt him resist, and that did not please her, so she pushed his back against the side of the tub and kissed him more aggressively. A warm radiance spread from him to her mouth and tongue.

Discord and turmoil reigned in Vel’s mind. She had fought him like a spitting cat the day before, and now she kissed him like he quenched a thirst. It was not unpleasant to have his cousin assaulting him so, but it was more than jarring. Even more discordant, his naked sister watched them while standing above. And this was all happening on the top of a resurrected relic tower in the middle of an escape from the Vulpes. Despite it all, he felt his cock rising under the clothes.

“I am not jealous, Vel.” Naevia slipped into the water next to them. She was giddy, wildly giddy, at the sight of Dellia throwing herself at Vel. This was the break they were looking for. If they could get Vel inside their cousin again, maybe this time she would sing a different tune afterward. And at the very least, they might cause her to forget their upcoming rendezvous with her quarry. She put a hand on Vel’s shoulder and felt his tension under his robes. “This is good. Let it happen.”

“Mmmpppphhhhh,” Vel said around Dellia’s tongue. He suddenly thought of his mother and sister across the Inland Sea. How could he spend his time aimlessly fornicating when they were by themselves at home, preparing for the wedding. And who knows what dangers closed around them? When Dellia’s hand snaked under his tunic, robe, and underthings, his worries spread to the winds. He felt her mount him, the intensity of their kiss increasing. And then she was lowering herself down on his cock.

Dellia broke the kiss, bit his clothes, and ground his saturated robes between her teeth. Good gods, he hit a spot that was too perfect for words. But she tried at words nevertheless. “You … fucking … have me … like a stuck … aahhhhhhhhh … pig. Damn … Vel … Cousin … it is like … drinking from Jupiter’s own … chalice … ooooohhhhhhhh.” Her hips wiggled on their own and she had her first orgasm of the day.

~~

Her castle slept as Cassia ascended the stairs to their library. She had in mind to read some recent history on the royal line. Of course, she knew of the passing of the generation that preceded Princess Minicia and the queens regent. Each of them taken by a wasting disease, one after the other over several years. But she wanted to know more about the queens themselves. She had a strange impression that the king’s little sister had birthed only a daughter. But she had other memories of the arrival of twins. Dueling memories. Maybe it had been only a child’s fancy at the time, but Cassia wanted to investigate. Her husband and her son had tangled with the queens. And Valeria and Cesphea behaved so oddly. Hopefully, Vel would bring back information from Gallio, and she would understand more of the scope of what had happened to her family.

A daughter. Her mind kept coming back to that memory. The king’s little sister bringing a daughter into the world. A rhythmic sound brought her out of her thoughts as she ascended the gently curving stair. She paused. The noise was … slapping flesh and grunting. It had been a while since she and Gallio had made such noises, but she recognized sex when she heard it. Some servants, or maybe a couple from the queens’ retainer, had probably sought out the infrequently traveled stair for their rutting. Well, Cassia would give them a stern talking to. Her chosen gods would frown on infidelity if she found it, and Cassia herself wouldn’t much stand for lewdness and vulgarity.

Step after step, the noises grew louder. Then, movement came into view. Cassia stopped in her tracks, her hand going to her mouth. She tasted the bitter flavor of her iron wedding ring. A woman, her back to Cassia, thrusted her hips, her gown up over her waist. Her bare ass was quite white in the lamplight. The woman was one of the queens. The pale skin, dark hair, and copper crown were unmistakable. The queen had a naked woman bent over in front of her, the woman’s hands on the stairs.

“There now … ugh … ugh … how is it?” Cesphea clutched the servant’s hips tightly, almost lifting her up off her feet.

“Good … good …” Merope gave a deep grunt every time the cock rammed its way all the way in.

Cassia took a step back down the stairs, almost losing her balance. Goodness, that was the servant the queens were taking. And … and … the queen was absolutely destroying the woman’s nethers with a giant phallus. Cassia could see it clearly with each back thrust. The phallic object was so long that the queen created lots of space between herself and Merope’s hindquarters, before crashing back into her with a ferocity Cassia had not witnessed in a mating pair before. But her experience was quite limited. Was that a real penis? It couldn’t be, could it? It was too smooth … and the queen was a woman. Cassia’s brows knitted in confusion.

“Are you a good little bitch? Will you serve me well and carry my seed?” Cesphea pounded on, unaware of her audience.

“Yes … ugh … yes … Your Majesty.” Merope was barely aware of her own grunting and panting. She probably did sound like a breeding bitch from the kennels. It was a role it seemed she was made for. She gave herself over completely to pleasure.

“And what of your husband, wench? Do you wish to go back to him?” Cesphea was gloating.

“I … still … love … him,” Merope whined.

Cesphea laughed, a cold hard sound reverberating in the stairway. “I’ll pound that out of you … eventually. You belong to the … uh … uh … crown.”

“I’m … ugh … sorry … ugh … Nicias … oooooohhhhhhhhhh.” Her insides quivered as another orgasm rocked poor Merope.

Cassia had seen enough. She quietly turned and hurried down the stairs, terrified that some queens’ guard would spot her and question her. She wondered that the queen would commit such sins out in the open. And in the ducal house, no less. She would have to send the full scullery staff to clean that stairwell tomorrow. Well, not the full staff. She would not make Nicias clean the remains of his wife’s defilement. Once far enough away, she broke into a sprint down the stairs, clutching at her chest with both hands to stabilize her bouncing breasts under her stola. Not for the first time, she cursed their size.

At the bottom of the stairs, Cassia huffed and puffed from the effort of her quick decent. She raced to the nearest temple, that of one of the lesser gods, Discordia. She dropped to her knees inside and prayed. She prayed to Jupiter that the queens would fly from her home. She begged Discordia to leave her and let order return to Ostia Novus. And she pleaded with Mercury to send Vel and Naevia back to her bosom with news of their father.

~~

The bright sky faded to a washed out cerulean above them, with pink and purple to the west. Still on the roof of the tower, Vel, Naevia, and Dellia had moved from the bath to the four-poster bed. It was ridiculous to have such furniture out in the open. And none of them could see how it had gotten up there, the entryway to the stairs was much too small for such a passage. But brother and sister and their cousin hadn’t spent much time pondering these things.

“He’s … fucking … got me … on that … so deep … gods damn … I can’t …” Dellia bounced on Vel as if he were a horse at gallop. Both of them lifted off the bed and almost went weightless at the apogee of each springing leap.

“Do you now swear your loyalty to your duke?” Naevia jumped out of bed, afraid that the bucking mattress might toss her to a hard landing on the stone, or the frame might collapse all together. As she stood, she felt the wetness run down her legs. The women had been so giddy and drunk on the magic of the place that both had urged Vel to sow their furrows. Some part of Naevia knew that she was playing with fire, but she couldn’t bring herself to worry about her viability as a future wife should she carry her brother’s child.

Vel had protested seeding her, saying that Dellia was necessary, but he didn’t want to ruin Naevia’s future. But he eventually relented when her tight pussy squeezed him like it was trying to coax milk from a tit.

“Do you swear, Dellia?” Naevia looked around her in wonder. The metallic azure light swirled around the tower creating a funnel into the sky. It seemed to increase in intensity every minute they spent on the tower. The light danced around them, adding to Naevia’s intoxication.

“I swear it. I will … ah … ah … protect the Tullius ducal legacy with … ugh … my last breath.” Dellia’s tongue lolled out of her mouth. She had cum on her face and hair, but it didn’t bother her in the slightest. If truth be told, she wanted to drown in this teenager’s sperm.

“Very good.” Naevia clapped her hands. She watched her cousin crash down on Vel, cursing, and screaming her way through another orgasm. She gave them a minute, and then reached down between her own legs. Naevia was a sloppy mess, but her pussy was not sore in the least. A minor miracle. “My turn.” Naevia climbed back onto the bed and pushed her still convulsing cousin off her brother so that she fell on her side on the mattress. Naevia got onto all fours, and turned her butt toward Vel. “Mount me.”

“I’m tired, Naevia. All yesterday, and all today.” Vel looked at the shapely, pale ass. What a blessing that she could be his. He was indeed tired, but his pulse beat steadily in his cock. He knew he had more cum stored if she wished it.

“You will get up behind me and put it inside, Your Grace.” She looked back and a thin smile spread on her lips, tempered by the excited energy of her expectation. “Or so help me.”

“Do it … Vel,” Dellia panted, her mind returning to her some. Her skin prickled with goosebumps at the thought that she would get to see brother and sister mate again. She put her hand to her belly and imagined she could feel his heat deep inside her. She never wanted to leave that rooftop. She would always stay there, mating, and resting, and then mating again.

“I can’t say no to that butt.” Vel rose to his knees and got behind his sister. He watched as Naevia dropped her head forward and put her legs together, raising her ass up to him as high as she could.

“My gods, you’re huge, Vel. For fuck’s sake, I could never get enough watching you put that thing where it shouldn’t go.” Dellia still felt quite giddy, and dreamy. The metallic azure light swirled around them. “Do you still not see the blue light?” She propped herself up on her elbow so she could watch them better.

“No … aaaahhhhhhh.” Vel slid into his sister, and held his cock there, feeling her tremble through his hands on her hips. “I see only the friscalating dusk light. And … ugh … two … tight … alabaster … orbs.” He found a rhythm with his hips and gently smacked her left butt cheek with a hand. He enjoyed her little yelp in response.

“That’s good, Vel. But you can slap my ass a bit harder. Ow … yes … ow … like that.” Naevia felt her pussy clench and she knew she was saturating the sheets below her again with that incredible gush. “Now … ugh … take my hair.” Her head lifted as he gently bunched her red hair and pulled back. “Oh, Vel. You have conquered … me. You could … conquer … the world … like this. Yeeeessssssss.” She screamed out as his hips went wild behind her. Dellia hadn’t finished him off the last time, and he was ready to cum again. She had learned the signs well. “Seed meeeeeeeeeeeeee.”

A while later, with night all around them, the three lay in languid repose. They had the grapes and wine in bed with them, but the women said the wine had no effect. They were already drunk on the azure light.

“Can we stay here forever?” Dellia was uncharacteristically vulnerable at the moment. She felt such a deep warmth for and from her cousins. It went beyond loyalty and duty. Was it love? She didn’t know. For all she had shared and cherished with Spurrius in the past, this feeling was new to her.

“Yes,” Naevia purred.

“No.” Vel looked over at the open hatch door to the stairs and then back to the copper cage. “And I’m not sure how we’re going to get down. We’re at the top of the most watched building in Kart Hadasht. We cannot simply slip out the alley as we did before. We will probably have to brave the tunnels again. I wish there was another way off this roof.” An image of his mother praying on her knees suddenly flashed before his eyes. She needed him. And then it was gone. He wished he could return to her that very instant. “Hey, I see it. I see the blue.” The metallic azure light was all around them, making his head buzz. And then it was blinding. “Naevia?” He reached out to his sister, and his cousin. He caught their hands in his. He could see nothing but blue.

“Vel?” Naevia closed her eyes, the light was bright. Azure peeked under her eyelids. To her surprise, she wasn’t afraid. It felt like going home. And then gravity let go its hold on her. She floated, her brother’s hand her only tether to the world. And then the light faded. She opened her eyes and could almost make out shapes. Gravity came back and they fell. Naevia screamed. She heard Vel screaming. With a gentle thump she hit something firm.

All three naked bodies groaned and rolled together on a cold stone floor. Moonlight fell through an open window. “That’s going to leave a bruise.” Vel let go of Dellia’s hand to rub at his back. His eyes adjusted to the dim light. He recognized his surroundings. “What the …? We’re home.”

Naevia sat up and looked around. It was true, they were in Vel’s chamber back in their own castle. None of the lamps were lit, so they could only see by the moonlight. They were all still naked. Their clothes and armaments were stacked in a pile near Vel’s bed. She stood and offered a hand to Dellia, who took it. Naevia felt all the drunken giddiness drain from her. From Dellia’s peaked face and frown, she could tell the tower’s effects were leaving her as well. Whatever had happened to them on that rooftop, it was over. Seeing the cool look in Dellia’s eye, Naevia leaped for the weapons, suddenly aware of the vulnerability of her naked flesh.

“You needn’t do that.” Dellia helped the naked Vel to his feet. She no longer felt giddy, but Vel’s warmth had not left her core. And his touch sent new tendrils of the same feeling down her arm. “I offer my sincere and humble regret for what I’ve done to you and your family.” Once Vel stood before her, Dellia dropped to a knee. “My oath to you stands, Your Grace. Tell me what you require of me.” She eyed his heavy, flaccid cock dangling between his legs. She hoped he would require hardness, but sensed that would have to wait.

“My mother,” Vel said. “I had a vision of my mother before we … um …” He looked around the room. “Before we came home. Something is wrong here.” He lifted Dellia to her feet. “Will you help me find and protect her?”

Dellia nodded. “Against all enemies.”

“Right.” Naevia closed her gaping mouth. It had worked. It seemed Dellia would support them now. Her mind turned over the possibilities. They would soon have a look into what Dellia had been tasked with and what they were up against. “Well, good. Let’s get dressed and find Mother.”

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