The Elfmaid's Curse (The Elfmaid Trilogy Book 1) (10 page)

            The man sent up against her was young and in his prime. He looked cheerful, but confident. Considering his fresh-faced look, Danica figured the armor was handed down to him through several generations. He carried a steppe sword, the two-handed, single-edged, slightly curved sword favored by the steppe nomads.

            Danica found herself wondering if Fulgar had a very low opinion of her abilities, or if the blonde youth, called Horse, really was his best swordsman. Looks could, and frequently were, deceiving. She would be cautious.

            "My lady," Horse said, bowing with a flourish. "You are indeed the loveliest vision my sad eyes have ever beheld."

            Definitely a steppe nomad and by his accent, Horse Tribe. The Horse Tribe was the largest and most powerful of the steppe nomads. As a caravan guard, Danica had dealings with them before, and knew them to be generally friendly and outgoing among their own and friends, but stark and merciless fighters and raiders otherwise.

            "And you have the slickest tongue I have ever heard." She smiled back. "You sound like a courtier."

            He laughed. "I wish, but I am but a simple herder granted the honor of riding with these fine men."

            "Is Horse your real name, or were you tagged with it because you're from the Horse Tribe?" she asked, and received a surprised look from him.

            "Very good," he said, pulling his sword. "I am indeed a son of the Horse Tribe, and Horse is my nickname." Shrugging, "I have a way with horses."

            He presented his blade with a confident smile.

            "Why do I have a feeling you're even better with a sword?"

            "Must be your woman's intuition."

            She gave him a doubtful smile, then turned to Fulgar. "What are the rules?"

            "No rules," he said, sneering. "Just win."

            Bowing with a self-assured smile, Horse said, "Any time you're ready, my lady."

            Danica gave him a crooked grin, then kicked some of the fine dust covering the street at his face. On instinct, he jumped back, brandishing his sword wildly. She drove into him with a vengeance. It was all he could do to defend himself, but he recovered before she could exploit his brief disadvantage.

            "Well met," he said, his lazy smile returning. "I see there's more to you than first thought."

            "There's more to me than you'll ever know," she said, circling slowly.

            In a move almost too quick to see, Horse stepped in and thrust for her heart. Twisting, she swept his blade away, but not before receiving a long shallow crease across her breast plate.

            She continued the spin, dropping low and throwing a leg out. Horse's legs were swept away and he came down with a grunt. He rolled aside just before the point of her blade slammed into the cobbles. Any hesitation would have cost him the fight, if not his life.

            "Never underestimate you opponent," she chided him.

            "I stand corrected," he said, looking at her with respect now.

            They circled for several minutes looking for a chink in the other's armor. After extensively probing each other's defenses, they concluded they were fairly well-matched.

            Danica cursed her loss of physical strength. Her sword felt unusually heavy and difficult to wield. As Danic, she knew she could've made short work of the man. With a little practice she felt she could get real close to her former abilities. If nothing else came of this, at least she had proven to herself that she wasn't totally helpless. That nagging doubt in the back of her mind was now put to rest.

            While circling, Danica heard Fulgar's snort of anger, then felt his boot slam into her lower back. She stumbled into Horse's arms. He caught her with a laugh, looking down into her startled face. Twisting and bucking violently, she almost escaped Horse's suffocating embrace, but just ended up facing Fulgar. Horse had her arms pinned to her sides, forcing her to face the gloating guard commander in helpless rage.

            "Cheat!" she cried at the Captain.

            Laughing, he said, "I said no rules. Besides, no one plays by the rules in a real fight."

            She seethed. Nothing she could do would break the nomad's hold. He was too strong. Then something occurred to her.

            "Take that!" she cried as she drove one of her heels into Horse's foot. As his grip loosened, she broke free and swept an elbow across his jaw. Then she kicked him in the chest as he fell back. He laid at her feet, too stunned to stand. Turning to Fulgar, "I win."

            While Fulgar glared at her, the other guards and teamsters crowded around. Ignoring Fulgar, she acknowledged their welcomes, congratulations, and hardy back slaps. Like it or not, Fulgar had to accept her now.

            Pushing his way through the crowd, Horse grinned at Danica. Rubbing his jaw, "Well met, my lady. It will be an honor to serve with you."

            "Friends?" She asked, offering her hand.

            "Friends," he said and cheerfully took it. "I think you broke my foot."

            He was only slightly favoring that foot, so not broken.

            "I hope not," Danica clapped him on the shoulder. "How about I buy you an ale in Samulla? To make up for my mistreatment of you?"

            "I look forward to it."

            "I'm glad we're all such good friends now," Captain Fulgar grumbled, pushing through the crowd. Stopping, he gave everyone a hard look. "Get back to work. We move out in fifteen minutes."

            Horse, looking even more sheepish, patted Danica on the shoulder and winked. Captain Fulgar cast a withering stare at the retreating nomad before turning his attention back to Danica.

            After everyone left, Danica said, "And just where do you want me?"

            She regretted her choice of words the second they left her lips. Several visions flashed before her mind's eye, of Fulgar bending her over and having his way with her. Of her on her back, legs wide as he sated his lusts. Of her on her knees before him, mouth full and head bobbing.

            He looked her over sullenly a moment, but there was something in the cast of his eyes that told her Fulgar was having similar erotic thoughts. She bristled. The way his dark eyes lingered on certain parts of her body almost made her feel dirty. She fought the urge to cross her arms across her chest.

            "Bring up the rear," he said, then abruptly turned and stalked off.

           
Great,
she thought darkly.
Now I get to eat dust the whole trip
.

            "Aye, Captain," was all she said, though. No profit in pushing her luck.

* * * * *

            Riding into the wind to escape the choking dust cloud, Danica reined up on a small rise under a lone acacia tree. She watched the caravan slowly winding its way through the low, rolling hills of the steppes. There were few trees, and most of those were stunted oaks next to the rare rivers and streams, and thorny acacias. They were still in short grass country, near the desert to their east. Further north and west the grasses grew taller. Though she'd never ridden through them herself, Danica heard there were areas where the grass was twice as tall as a man afoot.

            Not counting the ocean, the Steppes was the largest single region Danica knew existed. It was bordered by the Qakara Desert to its east, the Tyr Mountains to the south, the Black Forest to the north, and the Dragonback Mountains to the east. Danica had either flown or ridden over most of its vast expanses. She knew most of its tribes, but only a few of their scattered clans. The only cities were ruins from the time of the War of the Gods, when the Arisen Gods routed the Old Ones and took over the godly duties of their world.

            Legends from that time said the Steppes was then a vast forest, which was destroyed along with the Old Ones' mortal armies. Indeed, the Dragonback Mountains came into being during that war, when the King of the Arisen Gods, Baldr, called Father Sun, cleaved the land asunder to stop the retreating armies. The doomed armies were then crushed before the mile high wall of granite. The Dragonback Mountains to this day were still sheer mile high cliffs and impassable except by warhawk.

            The Elven Empire rested behind the Dragonback Mountains, protecting them from unwanted human intrusion. It was well known that for a human to venture into those dark forests was death. The Gods did nothing about it, having given the lands to the elves for turning against the Old Ones toward the end of that ancient war.

            To the steppe and desert folks, the Black Forest to the north was even more intimidating. No one knew how large the forest actually was. It was called the Spirit Lands by the steppe folk, and the Taboo Lands by the desert folk. All agreed it was haunted and most believed the spirits of the dead Old Ones' armies guarded it from mortals. The entrance to Hel was thought by the northern cultures to be deep within its dark forests.

            Pulling down her sweaty blue bandanna from over her mouth and nose, Danica pushed her dusty wide-brimmed black hat back and wiped her sweat-soaked face with a grimy sleeve. It was blistering hot, with her steel cuirass acting like an oven. She didn't have the coin back in Elfhaven to buy a burnoose, though a fellow guard had offered to "give" her one of his for certain disgusting favors. Her shirt was plastered to her body beneath the armor, and she could feel rivulets of sweat tickling their way down her back. The armor prevented her from scratching.

            She marveled again at how the heat made the prairie shimmer like water. The cool spring temperatures were long gone. The only place worse than the far western plains of the steppes in summer was the desert in summer. And in two or three days they would be crossing over. For the better part of three weeks they had been roughly paralleling it while trading with the infrequent steppe clans.

            She slid out of the saddle, plucked off her hat and filled it with tepid water from the water bladder tied to the left flank of the horse and under her round nomad shield. Originally she didn't have the coin to buy a shield, but had won it in a game of dice from a steppe warrior two weeks back.

            "Ho, Danica!" Horse called out happily, too happily, as she was giving her thirsty mount its second hat full of tepid water. "Lose your appetite for dust already?"

            She tried to scowl at the cheerful nomad, but it quickly twisted into a smile to match his own. He was so much like Carl.

            Grinning, "I'm trying to watch my figure."

            Snorting, "No need. No one will get fat on what they feed us." Then giving her his most dramatic leer, "But if you're so worried, I would be honored to help you work off any undesired weight, my elven beauty."

            Danica visibly cringed, to his delight, and cursed the day Horse had learned she was an elfmaid. Needless to say, he couldn't wait to tell everyone. For two weeks she had been the center of unwanted attention, as eager-eyed men vied for her exotic attentions. And after she'd worked so hard to keep her racial identity a secret.

            "Go lick a goat."

            Horse just chuckled.

            Setting the soaked hat atop her head, and enjoying how its wetness cooled her brow, she swung back into the saddle. Shifting her weight in the saddle, she wondered if she'd ever get accustomed to life in the saddle. Even in her old male body, she quickly tired of forking a horse day in and day out. Then realizing Horse was watching her, she settled into the saddle. Shooting the chuckling nomad a sharp look, she vowed to knock him out of his saddle if he offered to "rub her tush" again.

            "Not what I want to lick," he said, wagging his brows.

            Danica smiled despite herself. She worried he was starting to wear her down. The idea of actually sleeping with him wasn't as repulsive as it should be or as it once was. She liked the horny bastard, and truth was, she was feeling the need for some relief as well.

           
I don't want to go there
. Going there would lead down a path best not travelled.

            "I like it when you smile," Horse said. "It gives me hope."

            "Hmmm," Danica said, biting her lip. Was she that annoying back when she still was a man? Probably. "Do you ever give up?"

            "Never," he said. "But there is one way to shut me up."

            "Oh?"

            "Sleep with me," he said.

            Danica sighed. She glanced towards the caravan, which was no longer in view. She couldn't see anyone else. Her heart started pounding, her pussy aching. A warm wetness spread between her legs.

           
This is happening way to often of late.
She glanced at Horse. His eager eyes told her he realized she was considering his proposition, if not how her body was reacting. That man was way too observant for her own good.
I swear, Talar enchanted my brain. Or my body. Or my libido. Something.

            "You're almost a bad as Fulgar," she said. Horse chuckled, shaking his head. She knew by mentioning her nemesis within the caravan she'd killed his ardor. Usually that was true. This time, not so much. Unfortunately, all day Danica had been trying to figure out a way to kill Captain Fulgar's desire for her. Or at least stop his constant attempts to get her alone and force himself upon her. The only solution she could think of was to let him have his way. Maybe after a night in his bedroll he'd be satisfied and leave her alone. Maybe she wouldn't have to do much. "Do you think Fulgar would leave me alone if I sucked him off?"

            Her face burned. She couldn't look at Horse.

            All day, really for the last week, her mind kept return to doing something for Fulgar so he would leave her alone. Those vile thoughts always left her shaken and disgusted, but mostly because of how aroused she became when she considered how best to do him. Sucking him off on her knees seemed to pop into her way too often.