A Noble Estate (4 page)

Rak turned and slid from Vyld’s back, holding himself up with a single, bare foot placed atop Jisten’s boot. His hands quickly undid Jisten’s pants and drew the Valer’s cock through the opening. Rak then bent his head to Jisten’s crotch, and he nuzzled and kissed the rapidly engorging shaft. Once Jisten was fully erect, Rak thoroughly licked his cock with languid, sensual tongue strokes until the entire shaft was perfectly lubricated.

Jisten smiled down at him happily. He always loved Rak’s oral attentions. But they couldn’t stay in the trees for long, so once he was lubed, he tugged on Rak to urge him to remount.

Rak mounted easily but balanced himself way forward. “Sit in the saddle properly, my love.”

Jisten eased forward until he was fully in the saddle. Rak lowered himself onto the erect shaft, and Jisten moaned as the tight sheath sank down around him in a warm, velvet embrace. His hands landed on Rak’s thighs and pushed the smaller man down more firmly, until he could feel Rak’s ass pressed against his pubic area. “But you can’t stay quiet,” he said, too late.

“I will try,” said Rak, biting back his own moans of pleasure. He slid Jisten’s hands forward, under the front, lower hem of his tunic, to rest against his package.

Jisten immediately worked Rak’s balls into his hand and rolled them about. The sac was so soft and fun to play with. Thanks to the bond, he could feel the little shots of pleasurable sensations his playing with Rak caused the smaller man to experience. Plus, it was very dominant of him to play openly with Rak’s genitals.

Vyld moved into an ambling walk, very easy to sit.

Rak gasped as Jisten’s shaft shifted inside him.

Jisten closed his eyes as ripples of pleasure spread out from his groin. Rak felt so good, so tight, so hot that it made him ache with the tension of holding himself back.

“When it comes time, ask Vyld to gallop. Only Otikon could catch him, and you can tell him to hang back,” Jisten whispered. “But let’s enjoy this as long as we can.”

Rak nodded agreement. “Night, this feels good,” he whispered.

* * * *

Vyld moved into a slow canter, increasing the speed just a bit, a nice rolling gait that his riders’ hips shifted with. Rak gasped softly then bit his lip to keep from crying out.

The other avtappi moved into a canter as well.

Rak asked Vyld to slow down. He wanted to prolong this. Walk, trot, canter, walk, trot, canter, until Jisten couldn’t take it any longer.

“S’Raaaak,” Jisten moaned.

Rak was shuddering in pleasure. “Mmm?”

“Please, gallop now?”

Rak relented and let Vyld gallop. They pulled ahead quickly. Jisten moaned with his release, hugging Rak tighter. Rak wasn’t able to contain his cry of pleasure this time. Jisten didn’t care and didn’t look behind him to see if anyone reacted. He was locked in pleasure.

Rak leaned against him as they shared each other’s pleasure freely. “Love you, my Valer.”

“Love you, High Priest, in this life and the next.”

“Until the end of time,” agreed Rak. “As the gods meant it to be.”

Both sensed Scorth’s presence in their minds, his agreement.

“I’m glad to get away from the court,” Jisten said once he could breathe normally again. “Can we never go back as long as we keep Jethain with us?”

“That presents difficulties, Captain of the Palace Guard,” said Rak.

“Whaaaat?” Jisten mock whined. “I can send messages.”

His mastigi emerged and clicked.

As did Trelo. “You had to say the M-word,” laughed Rak as a dozen mastigi swirled around them.

“I keep forgetting,” Jisten admitted.

The rest of the party caught up.

Jethain just shook his head. “You’re not fooling anyone, you know.”

“Allow me my illusions,” Jisten said with dignity.

Liast said, “So long as our bribes for looking the other way are paid in chocolate.”

“
Why do the Koilathans make such a big deal out of sex?
” wondered Ioli.

“S’Liast, you are about to experience the freshest chocolate in the world. The cacao beans will be harvested in front of your eyes, shelled, crushed, conched, all right to your mouth,” Jisten promised.

“He can do whatever he wants with S’Rak,” Liast told Jethain. “I will see nothing.”

“And if you hear nothing,” Jisten said, “you can taste chocolate liqueur.”

“I have suddenly lost my ability to hear,” announced Liast.

The guards all laughed.

Jisten told Rak, “And the liqueur can be mixed in café.”

Rak rubbed his back against Jisten. “What did you say?”

“You can always hear, my love,” Jisten laughed. “I wouldn’t deny you anything.”

“Well, that takes the fun out of it,” said Rak with a wry grin.

“Nothing takes the fun out of chocolate,” Liast said.

“
I thought you were deaf,
” said Ioli. His eyes were twinkling.

“What?” Liast said. “I can neither see nor hear.”

Jisten whispered into Rak’s ear, “How long are we, uhm, staying together?”

Rak shifted on Jisten’s shaft. It was semi-firm again. “How long do you want to?” he retorted. “Shall we go for seconds?”

“Make the avtappi hang back,” Jisten murmured.

“We shall scout ahead,” announced Rak. “Alone.”

“We know what he’ll be scouting,” laughed Kal.

“Oh suuure,” Jethain said.

Vyld moved to a smooth gallop.

Rak muffled his noise as Jisten firmed up again. Jisten held out longer this time and Rak enjoyed every moment of it.

* * * *

When they finally rejoined the group in the early afternoon, Jisten slid back over to Zala and grinned unrepentantly at Jethain. Rak was both relieved and regretful. Relived to have more room in the saddle, regretful because he enjoyed Jisten’s company.

The prince rolled his eyes. “If the two of you are done, perhaps we could discuss where we’re stopping tonight?”

“I would prefer to camp,” muttered Rak. He winced and put a hand on his belly as the baby rolled and kicked him hard.

“Why are you doing that? You’re not going to deliver now are you?” There was a note of panic in Jethain’s voice. “We’re out in the middle of nowhere. You can’t have a baby out here.”

“He’s having the baby?” Jisten crowded close to Rak. In fact, he climbed right back onto Vyld’s back. Both avtappi were quite used to Jisten’s antics and paced along in step.

Rak mustered what dignity he could and told Jethain, “He keeps kicking me.”

“Oh,” Jethain subsided. “You’re sure, right? Because you’ve had them before, so you would know, right?”

Jisten reached around Rak and put his hands on Rak’s belly.

“Yes, brother, I am sure.” The baby kicked again.

“What, sunnies don’t know nothing about birthing babies?” Pikara snickered. “Three gold nomi says Prince Sunny will faint if he sees the birth.”

Rak told her, “That is a sucker bet. Besides, he is not allowed to watch.”

“Thank all the gods,” Jethain said and Pikara snickered again.

Liast rode up. “You’re having the baby now?”

“He was kicking, not birthing.”

Liast grinned at Rak conspiratorially. “Now, now, I’m the healer here. Let me feel.”

Rak snorted but permitted it.

Liast winked at Jisten and then gasped. “This is it! Jethain, come here! I need your assistance!”

“Noooo! Araken said I wasn’t permitted!”

Pikara laughed. “Sunny sucker!” She was used to Liast’s jokes.

Rak burst out laughing.

Jethain shot Liast a dirty look.

Rak handed Liast a piece of chocolate. Then, he stole Liast’s remaining bread.

Liast was content for the trade.

Riftinmoor was a town well used to Valers traveling through. The only town of appreciable size in the north of Koilatha, it was a center of trade set on the crossroads and the river. The sturdy buildings were constructed of stone, timber and plaster, the shutters painted in bright colors in defiance of the elements. It was cooler up here, even in summer, and Despina was glad to be out of the heat of the southern lowlands.

Although the townsfolk were used to Valers, they weren’t used to Valers coming by riverboat. The dockworkers stared as the Valers unloaded their packed wagons and horses on the docks. It took a good hour for the group to sort itself out and roll off the dock and into town. They headed for the traditional Valer campsite, just to the north of the main market square, within the town limits. The townsfolk had no prejudice against nomads, they were too far north to have suffered Lythadi raids, and they welcomed the trade the Valers brought.

Despina stroked Elara’s neck as the old avtappi came alongside Asfalea’s wagon. “You’re sure you want to split the group?” She asked in perfect, unaccented Valer.

“I’m sure,” the wizened Mai’eras replied in kind. “I need to speak to the chief and the elders. You need to see what your son’s bravery has earned for our people. I will bring the summer grazers to his lands—why risk trouble when one of our own can help us?”

“What of the priests?” Despina glanced back at the wagon driven by the two young dark servants. They were still getting themselves sorted out, for neither could be considered an expert driver.

Ritsa was climbing onto their board as Despina watched. The girl quickly sorted out their tangle of reins and took over the driving, chatting comfortably with the young men.

“They should go with you, along with Ritsa,” Asfalea declared. “Young love, so precious.”

“I will ask them,” Despina said and Elara obligingly dropped back to wagon driven by the three youngsters.

“
Matre
Despina,” called out the bolder of the two, “thank the night Ritsa can drive, because we sure made a hash of it.”

Despina chuckled. “Ach, S’Meno, and how much practice driving a wagon did you have in the novitiate?”

“None,” he admitted cheerfully. “I’m Movai, not Thezi. Just because I can stand in for any sect doesn’t mean I can perform their normal duties.”

From her theological discussions with Rak, she knew what he was talking about. The monks had the sacred ability to substitute for any sect in those rites which required all the sects to participate. This was useful in smaller forts, temples and chapels, which might not have all the required sects present.

“The Mai’eras feels that the three of you should come with me to Jisten’s lands,” Despina told them.

“Of course,” said Ytaes, the quiet one. “We need to migrate the chapel there. The Vales already have a full, if small, temple, so our chapel would be redundant.”

Ritsa sat up a little straighter and flashed a smile. “I look forward to seeing cousin Jisten’s lands, Mama Despina.”

Despina smiled at her then glanced forward. “Ach, the campground. I must go help the Mai’eras.”

Elara snorted smoke as she cantered back to the front of the line.

Asfalea didn’t really need the help but accepted Despina’s assistance with calm grace. In less than an hour, the wagons were circled, the horses unhitched, watered, fed and were in the process of being groomed by the older children. The campfire was built, fresh produce was purchased and dinner was being prepared. It was an organized Valer camp of the style Despina had grown up with, and she spared a moment to reflect on how wonderful it was that they’d rescued all the Valers from Karpos City.

* * * *

Tyll grimaced as he emerged on deck and saw the dirty, dusty sprawl of Chloi spreading from the riverbank like a festering sore upon the landscape. Warehouses, markets, exchanges—this was a trader’s city. Taverns, open-pit cook shops, stadia upon stadia of pens—this was the trading city of the Lythadi nomads. It was a crossroads town, where the decadence of the Riverlands met the savagery of the barbaricum. It was a hodgepodge of mud-brick buildings, timber and stone buildings, hide tents, canvas pavilions and thatched earth cots. And that’s just was he could see from the barge as they made for the deep-water dock, which was, really, hard to tell from the rest. It was no longer, no wider, it just had the advantage of being at one end of the mess.

“That is Chloi?” Pajel asked, in the mercenary style of Zafirin.

“It is,” said Tyll. “And with any luck, we won’t have to go further than the deep-water pier.” His own Zafirin was refined, accented in the manner of the nobility.

Pajel slid him a glance. “You don’t think we should stop in at a tavern, get a decent meal, hear the local gossip?”

“We should, I just don’t want to,” muttered Tyll. “Chloi is volatile, dangerous, and I’m happier by far when I can avoid it.”

“There’s two of us, though. Surely this town can’t be so bad that a bard and his hired guard can’t get a decent meal?”

Tyll felt the smile twitching his lips. Pajel was right; they could both use a good meal. Ship’s fare of dried fruit, jerky, hard tack and tea just didn’t satisfy the way a hot, cooked meal did. “All right, we’ll find a tavern.”

They collected their gear while the boat maneuvered into its spot on the dock. They were back on deck before the gangplank dropped and were the first two off the boat. Tyll took the lead. There was a halfway-decent tavern near the exchanges. Halfway decent was the best one could hope for in Chloi. The tavern was pretty much where Tyll recalled it being, looking pretty much the same, perhaps a little more faded, a little seedier, a litter dirtier...Tyll grimaced.

“There?” Even Pajel sounded dubious now.

“There.” Tyll took a deep breath and instantly regretted it. Chloi stank. He pushed his way through the door and paused to let his eyes adjust to the dim interior lighting. He scanned the taproom until he found a small, unoccupied table against the back wall. He pointed it out to Pajel, and they worked their way through the half-filled room until they reached their goal.

Tyll plopped himself down with an exaggerated sigh.

Pajel rolled his eyes and managed to look utterly bored as he casually leaned back against the wall.

The serving wench came over immediately. She wore the briefest of deep vee-necked tunics and a leather collar. Her long legs were bare and the tunic exposed her hip brand—the stylized image of a dancer and a tankard—that marked her as a sex slave. “What’ll you be having, masters?”