Tales of Erogenia

Based on the online comic created by J.E. Draft.

Episode 2: Journey to Jinqua

 

Chapter 4:  The Triumph of Diplomacy

 

Zenaria kept her eyes on Shalandra during the first part of the feast, but she noted that her sister was sitting with Guntig and Nordag, and felt that she was safe 
enough.  As the shaman’s apprentice Nordag had already mastered many of the skills Shalandra would have to learn, although shape-shifting was probably 
beyond her.  It was just possible, however, that her sister might be able to master even this ability.  Guntig had commented that he had never encountered so 
powerful a gift in one so young before.  The lightning strike she had used against the giant boar had greatly impressed the Hawk Tribe shaman and he had 
promised to help her perfect a few of her fledgling talents.  In any case Shalandra seemed to be drinking in moderation, probably having learned her lesson 
the first time.  If nothing else, Shalandra was almost doggedly level-headed, a characteristic that suited her well in developing her arcane talents.

Not surprisingly, pork was the main item on the menu.  Theredin and the other hunters had brought down four other boars, albeit not in quite as sensational a 
fashion as Shalandra.  They were roasted whole over heaps of glowing coals along with a number of other meat dishes, including poultry and other wild game.  
There were also fruits and vegetables as well.  The abundance of food was impressive and attested to the wealth of the Hawk Tribe, especially when compared 
to Zenaria’s tribe.  It would definitely make a valuable ally and trading partner.  However, Zenaria was not sure that she was there yet.  How well she and 
Shalandra had impressed Theredin remained a mystery.  In spite of the success of the boar hunt she was not quite sure that blasting a wild boar into oblivion 
with a bolt of lighting qualified as a display of her tribe’s warrior prowess, and this impression was proved a few minutes later.

Between cups of beer, Theredin turned to her, idly twisting the amber armlet she had given him.  “Is there much of this in your land?” he asked.  

“A great deal,” Zenaria replied, “but not much of it is mined at present as there is no established trade route between my tribe and the outside world.”

“Tell me of your land,” Theredin said, downing another cup of beer.

Zenaria told him and Theredin listened patiently, interrupting only to ask the occasional question in order to clarify certain points.  When she finished he 
drank again.  “It seems he said, “that where you live is beautiful, but it is also a cruel land.  It is hard to imagine a place where snow lies on the ground for 
six months.”

“It is hard,” Zenaria agreed, “but it breeds strong warriors.”

“I would like to test that,” Theredin said.  He moved smoothly to his feet, and stood looking down at her.  His meaning was unmistakable.

“Now?” Zenaria asked, in disbelief.  “It’s almost midnight.”  

“I’ll have the fire built up.  It should provide us with more than enough light.  And in any case a true warrior should be able to fight under any conditions.”

Zenaria saw that he was quite serious and that she was not going to get out of it.  “Alright, what are the rules?”

“Rules?” Theredin asked.  

“Yes, rules.  Or is it a fight to the death that you want?”

“Hmm, yes,” he agreed.  “That might not go down well with your sister, and I believe that Guntig has developed an attachment to her.”

“Attachment?”  Zenaria looked to where Shalandra had been sitting and noticed that the place was empty.  In addition Guntig of the North Wind was nowhere 
to be seen.  Right now, however was not the time for Zenaria to go off looking for her sister.  Besides, the fact that the shaman was with her probably meant that 
she was safe.

“Practice blades?” Theredin suggested.  “That way we probably won’t kill each other.”

Zenaria agreed to that cheerful suggestion.  Practice blades had the shape and approximate weight of a sword, but being made of wood instead of steel could 
inflict painful bruises but were unlikely to cause death.  

At Theredin’s command several wooden swords were produced.  They were constructed of a variety of hardwoods and were of different weights and lengths 
to simulate real weapons.  Zenaria made her choice, selecting a blade of maple that approximated the length and weight of her own sword.  It was not a perfect 
match, but Snow Leopard warriors were trained in a variety of weapons due to the awareness of the fact that in actual battle they might have to make do with 
what was at hand.  Theredin made his choice as well, selecting a longer blade than Zenaria, but one that also probably matched his own sword.

Their preparations finished, Theredin moved to the centre of the village where most of its population had gathered.  The few that were not there were those 
who remained on guard, protecting the village against any possible attacks.  Wood had been heaped onto a fire that was already burning in a large pit in and a 
combat area ten paces across had been marked out in the dirt.  It was a typical Erogenian combat arena and one with which Zenaria was familiar.  The 
combatants were expected to stay within the marked boundaries.  A combatant who stepped outside the bounds would be considered to have forfeited the 
match, but could move anywhere inside the large circle.  

Theredin stopped on the far side of the circle and stripped off his harness and feather cape, handing them both to one of his warriors, and then he turned to 
face Zenaria.  She looked at him.  In the flickering light of the fire she could not help admitting the strength and power of the young king.  His bronzed muscles 
gleamed in the firelight and he seemed more like some demigod than a man.  As he loosened up Zenaria could not help admiring his broad shoulders, deep 
chest, and hard flat belly.  She licked her lips and then forced herself to concentrate on the task at hand.  She wouldn’t last long if she could not stop thinking 
of what Theredin might be like in bed.  

Copying him, she removed her own harness and then her doeskin jerkin.  She was left dressed only in her doeskin breeches and deerskin boots and the twin 
bands of silk that crisscrossed her breasts and provided firm support when she engaged in hard physical activity.  The sheer material was one of the few luxury 
items Zenaria had brought back with her during her adventure in the desert kingdom of Sandak.  It was light, strong, soft, and the envy of every female warrior 
in the Snow Leopard Tribe.  Almost skin tight, it allowed her breasts to be fully displayed while at the same time keeping them under control.  Theredin’s eyes 
were immediately drawn to them as Zenaria knew they would.  It never hurt to have a little advantage during combat.

“Three touches,” Theredin said as Zenaria moved toward the centre of the ring.  It was the traditional way to determine a winner.  The first combatant to score 
three times against the other was declared the winner.  That being said, knocking an opponent unconscious with a blunted blade was also considered proof of 
victory.  

Zenaria nodded her agreement, her pulse racing as she faced Theredin.  She had to force herself to remain calm in spite of the fact that she had fought in the 
ring too many times to remember, but she had never faced an opponent as magnificent as Theredin; nor one who exuded his sexual magnetism.  She raised 
her sword and waited for the signal.

Theredin grinned across at her, fully confident.  “Perhaps we could make this a bit more interesting.  What do you say we place a wager on the outcome?”

“What do you have in mind?” Zenaria asked.  

“Anything you like, princess, unless you are afraid of the risk.”

“Afraid?”  That was a bad word to use around Zenaria and she answered without thinking.  “Let us hold the contest and let the winner take whatever she desires.”

“You mean whatever he desires, don’t you?” Theredin replied, catching the obvious suggestion.  

“We’ll see if it is he or she,” Zenaria replied coolly.  “Now if you are finished talking, perhaps we can begin.”

One of the warriors shouted and the combat was on.  Theredin attacked straight away, obviously confident of his ability, but Zenaria was prepared for him.  
It helped that she had heard other members of the tribe mention that Theredin had never been beaten in combat before and she knew that he would probably 
come straight at her.  “Know your opponent,” was a lesson she had learned the hard way when Tren, her first lover and the father of her daughter, had taken 
advantage of her fighting style and defeated her for the first time in her life.  As a result Theredin’s attack found only empty air as Zenaria retreated smartly, 
avoiding the heavy blade that he wielded as lightly as a toothpick.  

Mistaking Zenaria’s caution for fear Theredin moved aggressively forward, swinging his sword in a great arc.  Had she been where the blade passed it would 
have given her a painful bruise at the very least, but with a lithe twist of her body, she darted out of the way, caught Theredin’s blade with her own, slid down 
the length of his sword and jabbed its blunted point into his chest just below his sternum.  

A touch!  Theredin leaped back too late, a look of chagrin briefly crossing his face.  He knew as did all who watched that if Zenaria had been using a real sword 
he would have been spitted like a hog.  He immediately composed himself and waited.  By the rules of the combat ring he had to wait until the judge, in this case 
Wingard, proclaimed the hit.

The tall red-headed warrior raised her hand and pointed to Zenaria.  “A hit for the Snow Leopard princess,” she proclaimed.  

Then the combat resumed, and Theredin once again moved forward.  This time, however, he did not lunge in without caution, but instead stalked his prey, his 
steely blue eyes fixed on his target.  Zenaria moved to the side, keeping her taller, more powerful opponent turning in circles.  Theredin’s first movements had 
told her that he was very quick, but perhaps just a shade slower that she was.  She needed to avoid getting into a contest of strength with him and use her speed 
to advantage.  

She lured him in, allowing herself to be forced back until she was almost at the edge of the ring drawn in the dirt.  By taking a cautious approach she wanted 
Theredin to once again underestimate her, and it seemed to work.  Suddenly changing her tactics she lunged forward, engaging Theredin’s blade with her own 
and then ducking under it and delivering a wicked cut at his legs.  

Theredin leaped, Zenaria’s sword cutting the air beneath him, while at the same time cutting down with his own blade, but Zenaria had anticipated both his evasive 
maneuver and his counterattack.  She rolled beneath him and twisted her body, bringing up her powerful legs just as Theredin descended.  Her legs tangled in his, 
and scissoring her legs she dropped him to the ground.  Scrambling to her feet, she was on him before he could recover, her sword chopping down and striking 
his right arm just above the elbow.  The blow was delivered with a considerable amount of force and Theredin’s sword fell from his numbed fingers.

This time the Hawk Tribe king could not hide his shame and anger, but it was not directed at Zenaria, but rather at himself.  “Well played, princess,” Theredin 
said, rubbing his bruised bicep and getting slowly to his feet.  No one needed Wingard to pronounce that he had been hit a second time.  One more and the 
contest belonged to Zenaria.  

Picking up his sword, Theredin assumed a defensive stance.  Zenaria was surprised that he could even move his arm, considering the force with which she had 
delivered her blow.  Zenaria moved in for the kill.  Theredin was painfully injured.  Any attempt to move his arm would result in considerable pain; it was the 
perfect time to attack.

She swept in; her sword held in a double grip and was caught completely off-guard.  Instead of defending Theredin attacked, deflecting Zenaria’s blade with 
his own and then using his greater body weight to full advantage.  He crashed into her, his massive shoulder slamming into her chest.  The impact lifted her off 
her feet and dropped her onto her backside in the dirt.  Theredin’s sword followed immediately after, cracking across her shoulder with numbing force.  
Zenaria’s sword fell from nerveless fingers and then agonizing pain swept through her shoulder.  For an instant she thought the blow might have broken her 
shoulder, but she bit back her cry of pain and struggled to her feet.  As in her two strikes against Theredin there was no need for Wingard to declare a hit, but 
the tall woman warrior carried out her role and did anyway.  Zenaria realized that she had been guilty of the same sin as Theredin.  He had badly underestimated 
her and she had done the same with him.  Supposing that he could not recover from the blow she had dealt him, she had exposed herself to his attack and played 
his game, allowing his greater size and strength to overwhelm her.

Picking up her sword she got slowly to her feet and prepared to defend herself.  She found to her chagrin that her fingers would not close over the hilt and she 
was forced to switch to her left hand.  It gave Theredin a decided advantage and he quickly pressed forward. 

Zenaria fought entirely on the defensive.  Fortunately her training included using weapons with both hands, but she was unquestionably better with her right and 
Theredin forced her back without mercy, using his speed and agility to force her close to the edge of the ring.  This time there was no escape; his sword batted 
hers aside and he pressed the blunted point against her belly with enough force to double her over.  Two all.

Zenaria slowly straightened, the sound of Wingard’s voice ringing in her ears.  She had been given another lesson in overconfidence; one that was proving 
painful and embarrassing.  She had squandered a two-nothing lead against a partially disabled opponent.  She was beginning to wonder if she would ever learn.

Theredin moved against her again, but with the score tied, he took no chances.  Slowly he circled Zenaria herding her toward the edge of the circle, intent on 
running her out of room to maneuver and repeating the attack that had won him his second point.  There wasn’t much that Zenaria could do about it.  She simply 
was not skilled enough with her left hand to ward off Theredin’s attack without constantly retreating, but there was one thing she could do and it was her last 
chance to win.  As she approached the edge of the ring she moved to her left attempting to avoid being pushed into a position from which she could not escape.  
Confidently, Theredin moved with her, shifting to his right to cut her off.  He made no error, Zenaria’s sword could not reach him, but then she made her move.  
Suddenly reversing, she exposed her body to his attack.  If her gamble did not work she would be an easy target.  As she moved she shifted her sword from her 
left hand to her supposedly disabled right.  Her shoulder still throbbed in pain, but she could now feel her fingers, and she jabbed her arm toward Theredin’s 
unprotected ribs.  The point of the blade struck home eliciting a painful grunt from the Hawk Tribe king.  

He stepped back as Wingard announced the winning hit, and regarded Zenaria with a rueful expression.   “Well, princess, you have won.  Now name your prize.”  

Zenaria slowly brought her breathing under control.  Her efforts to avoid Theredin’s powerful attack had pushed her close to her limit.  She looked toward the tall, 
powerfully built figure of the king.  The firelight glinted off his sweat-streaked body, outlining every muscle of his chest, shoulders, and arms.  She looked into his 
eyes and spoke a single word.  “You.”

Theredin looked startled and then a slow grin spread across his handsome features.  “I see you are a woman who knows what she wants,” he said.  He held out 
his hands as if offering them for binding, but his attitude was certainly not one of slave to master.

“I do not want you that way,” Zenaria replied, as she tossed aside her sword.  “But I think you know how I do.”  She walked toward him, closing the short 
distance between them in three strides.  Clasping her hands behind his neck she pulled his head down and touched her lips to his.  

Theredin’s lips melded with hers, returning the kiss at first without passion, but then with growing ardour.  Around them the voices of the watching members of the 
Hawk Tribe rose in volume as they offered both advice and catcalls.

Panting slightly, Theredin broke the kiss.  “I think somewhere more private,” he suggested.  Stooping he placed one arm behind her knees and the other across 
her back, lifting her from her feet.  It was an act that Zenaria would not normally have allowed most men to perform, but somehow the action seemed entirely 
appropriate coming from the Hawk Tribe king.

“Watch out princess,” some wag called, as Theredin carries her through the crowd, “he’s got a horse’s pizzle between his legs.  If he can’t beat you in the ring 
he’ll beat you in the royal bedroom.”

There were other equally witty comments, but Theredin ignored them, carrying Zenaria toward the meeting house and then under the great hawk and into the 
central meeting room.  Even with a woman in his arms, however, Theredin paid his respects to the marble totem, setting Zenaria on her feet and going to his 
knees before proceeding.  As before, Zenaria knelt as well and then rose when Theredin did.  He did not pick her up again, but instead took her hand and let 
her through the darkened interior of the building.  

In spite of the fact that it was completely dark, Theredin seemed to have no trouble finding his way and as they proceeded up the stairs to the royal quarters, 
Zenaria felt her senses tingle.  By the time Theredin threw open the door to the royal quarters, she was breathing more quickly and a feeling of warmth flooded 
her loins.  

Theredin struck a light and Zenaria saw that she was in a room not much larger than the one she and Shalandra had been assigned.  It contained a bed; a small 
table on top of which was a bottle of ink and earthen jar holding several goose quills; and a large wooden chest; and two wooden stools.  It seemed little enough 
for a king, but Zenaria was reminded that her mother the queen occupied a room that was similarly furnished.  What struck her though, was the fact that Theredin 
must be able to read and write, a skill that she had only barely mastered, even though Shalandra was quite literate.  The thought of her sister reminded her that she 
had not noticed Shalandra in the crowd before, during, or after the combat.  Surely she should have been there.  Her thoughts on that matter, however, vanished 
when Theredin turned to her.

Abruptly Zenaria’s usual boldness deserted her.  Now that she was alone with the king she felt almost innocent.  Theredin seemed to fill the room and he loomed 
over her, so close that she could smell the drying sweat on his skin.  She was far from a timid virgin, but as he stood gazing at her, his chest slowly rising and falling, 
her legs almost buckled, and shivers of anticipation ran down her spine.  She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came and then Theredin stepped toward her 
taking both her hands in his and drawing her toward him.

Their lips met again and the king’s hands slid up Zenaria’s arms, the touch of his fingers sending electric shocks through her.  Her hands settled on his hips, sensing 
the power in his loins.  The sensation was almost too much.  She had an overwhelming urge to open herself to him and beg him to take her right there, but she 
waited while he kissed her again, his hands now in the small of her back, drawing her close.  Her fingers swept over him caressing the powerful muscles of his 
arms and shoulders.  

The kiss deepened, their tongues exploring one another’s mouths while Theredin’s hands began to move to other parts of her body, stroking her back, arms, and 
shoulders.  She winced as his fingers touched the massive bruise on her right shoulder, but said nothing.  However, her reaction did not go unnoticed.  “I shall have 
to have Guntig look at that.  Does it hurt a great deal?”  

“It’s nothing,” Zenaria lied, ashamed that she had shown any pain.  In truth, her shoulder throbbed agonizingly, but she would not admit that to Theredin.

“I shall try to be more gentle,” he replied.  Softly he ran his lips along her shoulder as if that would make her injury better.  Zenaria moved into him, pushing her 
breasts against his chest.  He bent his head, kissing her collarbone and then going lower, moving downward until he was moving his mouth along the upper curve 
of her breasts.  

Zenaria forgot all about the pain in her shoulder.  She found the metal clasp holding the silken bindings in place and tugged it free, allowing the material to float 
to the floor.  Arching her back slightly, she offered herself to him, moaning softly as his lips found her tender nipples.  As his teeth closed lightly over her right n
ipple she curved her body into him, her hands slipping into the waistband of his deerskin trousers and down over his thighs and buttocks.  She felt his muscles 
tense and then ripple as he moved.  “Such power,” she thought.  To have that between her thighs…

She arched even farther back, allowing him full access to her body, and he swept her from her feet and carried her panting to the bed.  He kissed her nipples 
again, taking each one into his mouth and sucking slowly, his tongue swirling about each taut rosebud.  Her body quivering with anticipation, her fingers released 
the ties closing his trousers and found his manhood.  She gasped as she realized that his size had only been slightly exaggerated, her already heavy breathing 
quickening until she was almost panting.  Hurriedly she helped him as he removed her boots and slid her trousers down her long legs.  

She waited, her breasts rising and falling, while Theredin took the few seconds to remove his own boots and trousers, and then he was beside her, his powerful 
body pressed against hers.  Their bodies touched, skin to skin and their lips met again.  They kissed softly, holding themselves back and then the kiss deepened 
until both lovers were breathless.  Breaking the kiss, Theredin began to explore her body with his mouth and tongue.  She could barely contain herself, her legs 
parting in invitation as he took her beyond her already aroused state.  She licked the sweat from his shoulders and as he bit lightly down on her left nipple, she 
sank teeth into his right shoulder.  “Ah, you vixen,” Theredin whispered.  “I shall have to tame you.”

“I’m not so easy to tame,” she replied.  Her hands slid behind his neck and she pulled him to her, tasting the salt on his nipples while he nuzzled her ears, biting 
the lobes gently before moving to her lips again.  Slowly they worked their way into a state of heightened arousal.  For one so young, Theredin was a skilled 
lover, but then he had supposedly had lots of practice.  Wingard had told her that Theredin had bedded his first women at the age of twelve, and he certainly 
showed it.  Even so he was not quite so skilled as Tren, but his raw animal power, more than compensated.  Zenaria had never touched a man so powerful.  
He moved with the silken grace of a leopard and Zenaria could not help being reminded of Jaree, as their bodies entwined.  

The tip of his heavy phallus brushed against her thigh.  The sensation was electric.  Unable to contain herself her fingers closed around his manhood.  Theredin 
groaned and then moved between her parted thighs as she guided him into her.  The sensation as his manhood entered her was indescribable.  His strength and 
muscled hardness filled her with desire and she heaved her body against his, rising to meet him as he penetrated her.  Theredin grunted and Zenaria gasped as 
she felt something impossibly large moving inside her.  There was sensation of pain mixed with pleasure and then the pleasure won out like a dam giving way as 
Theredin began to move his body rhythmically against hers.  

She matched his movements with her own, moving in unison to the sweet language of love.  She had never made love to anyone with Theredin’s size and strength.  
His power thrilled her in ways that her previous lovers had not.  More skilled than Cron, but not nearly as creative as Tren, he was a blend of her previous two 
lovers, possessing Tren’s gentle touch and Cron’s barbarian enthusiasm.  

Lost in the sensual cadence of lovemaking, Zenaria and Theredin were oblivious to the passage of time.  They were aware only of the intertwining of their 
sweating flesh and the grunts and moans of pleasure as their mutual passion slowly increased.  Slowly Zenaria felt her passion mount until her entire body was 
throbbing with erotic desire.  And then she shuddered as her loins convulsed, a scream bursting from her lips as carnal passion swept over her.  A few seconds 
later Therein cried out as he too reached his sexual peak and released into her.  

For minutes they lay too exhausted to anything more than hold one another.  Zenaria felt as if she had just spent several hours running up a mountain.  But after 
a few minutes she managed to find her voice.  “That was wonderful,” she gasped.  I have never experienced such power.”

“And I have never met a woman who was able to last so long,” Theredin panted.  “Most are spent within a few minutes.  I gave you all I could and you took 
everything.”

Zenaria was well aware that she had taken everything.  Her loins throbbed and she knew that in the morning she would probably be very sore, but she did not 
regret a single second of their lovemaking, and she proved it by having Theredin do it again a couple of hours later.  This time both lovers held their emotions in 
check, making love in a slower and more controlled fashion, drawing it out for as long as possible.  Finally, sexually satiated, they held on to one another and 
slept.

Zenaria awoke before dawn, and slipped out of the bed.  Theredin murmured something in his sleep as she left, but did not wake, a not surprising event 
considering his nightly exertions.  Moving silently she made her way to the privies.  As she had expected her loins burned with every step and she knew it would 
be a day or so before she was back to normal.  But it was a pleasant discomfort and one she would willingly have endured again given the chance.  More painful 
was the ache in her shoulder.  The flesh was discoloured by an ugly bruise and she would have to have Shalandra look at it.   

Her morning functions attended to she debated going back to Theredin’s bed.  It was more than tempting, but there was something else she wanted to determine 
first.  Where was Shalandra?  She had a nagging suspicion, but there was only one way to find it out.   She entered the meeting house and made her way to the 
small room that they had been assigned.  As she had guessed the room was empty, but she had an idea as to where to look next.

Next to the meeting house was a smaller building.  It was modest in appearance, but the carvings on the lintel and door posts left no doubt about who lived there.  
Respectfully, Zenaria decided not to enter.  Instead she folded her legs and sat a few feet outside the door and waited.  Time passed, but Zenaria did not move, 
using the moments to meditate quietly.  Somewhere a cock crowed, signaling the advent of dawn and a short while later the door to Guntig’s house opened and 
Shalandra stepped out.  

Her sister’s eyes spotted Zenaria at once.  She said nothing, but her silly grin told Zenaria everything.  In a single smooth motion Zenaria got to her feet, ignoring 
the pain in her loins.  More than anything she would have loved to soak in a hot bath, but first there was Shalandra.  “Sister,” she said, embracing her.  “Now 
you are truly a woman.”

Shalandra returned the embrace.  “It was truly wonderful,” she said.  “Guntig was very patient and gentle.”

Zenaria nodded; not at all surprised that Shalandra had gone to the shaman for her first sexual experience.  Although probably three times Shalandra’s age, the 
shaman exuded unmistakable power and in Snow Leopard society men and women were not judged on their age, but on their abilities.  Liaisons between older 
members of society and younger less experienced men and women were not uncommon, especially when the older member was possessed of Guntig’s arcane 
talents.  

“I am glad for you,” Zenaria said, remembering her good fortune in having an experienced lover for her first time.  

“There is something else,” Shalandra said, toeing the ground with her foot.  It was very uncharacteristic of her and Zenaria sensed that something was wrong.

“Guntig has promised to help me develop my powers,” Shalandra continued, “but it means that I will not be able to accompany you on the rest of your journey.  
I would have to stay here for at least a year.”

Zenaria suspected that there was something else as well and could easily guess what it was.  She was proven right a few heartbeats later when Guntig emerged 
through the doorway.  Shalandra immediately took his hand and stepped as close as she could to the Hawk Tribe shaman.  

“Of course you must stay,” Zenaria said.  She would greatly miss her sister, but Shalandra’s life was destined to be different from Zenaria’s and she could not 
stand in her way.  She went to her sister and kissed her on the cheek.  About that time Theredin suddenly showed up.  The king smiled when he saw Zenaria 
and then looked quizzically at the little gathering.  

“Am I interrupting something?” he asked.  

“Just a parting of ways,” Guntig answered.  “Princess Shalandra has consented to remain here and develop her mystical talents under my tutelage.”

“It is well that you have made that choice, princess.  You will be a welcome addition to the Hawk Tribe.”

Zenaria hid her disappointment at losing her sister by changing the subject, to a topic that would appeal to both her and her sister.  “I would like a hot bath.  
Would it be possible to have water brought to our quarters?”

“I can offer you something better than that,” Theredin said.  “A half hour’s ride from the village there is a hot spring.  I think you will find it better than any bath, 
provided you are up to the ride.”

Having been ridden heavily herself, Zenaria was not exactly in the mood to have a horse between her legs, but she did not want to show weakness and the 
thought of being able to immerse all of her body in hot water was incredibly tempting.  She looked at Shalandra who nodded her agreement; no doubt realizing 
that if she was to stay with the Hawk Tribe, learning to ride was not going to be an option.

It took just a short time for Theredin to arrange horses for them.  There were four, with Theredin acting as the guide and Guntig coming along with his new ward.  
They rode out slowly, partly due to the fact that no one was in much of a hurry and also due to the knowledge that Shalandra would likely fall off her horse if 
they went much faster.  

Zenaria was glad of the slower pace.  She wasn’t sure in the area between her legs would tolerate much more pounding and by the time they reached the hot 
spring she was more than glad to dismount.  

They hot spring was actually several springs feeding into a small stream.  Large boulders had been laid across it to dam up the water into a deeper pool, the 
water flowing over the edge and continuing its journey.  Theredin immediately dismounted, and stripping off his clothes, plunged into the pool.  Zenaria followed 
as quickly as she was able, her movements hampered by her stiffness.  Bathing nude in mixed company was not unusual in Snow Leopard society, so she had 
no reservations about appearing unclothed in front of Guntig, and as for Theredin, she could hardly play the shy virgin in front of the man who had touched 
almost every part of her nude body.  

She entered near the shallowest part of the pool and found the water almost scalding hot and she quickly waded to deeper water where she found the 
temperature more moderate.  Lowering herself into the water she let out a long sigh as the soothing heat caressed her body.  Shalandra joined her, letting out 
a groan of pleasure as the water lapped her waist.  By this time Guntig had stripped and was entering the pool, and Zenaria guessed from the look of his 
anatomy that her sister was probably almost as sore as she was.  

Easing herself in, Zenaria let the water come up to her neck and then sat on the bottom and enjoyed the bath.  After a few moments Theredin came over and 
sat with her, as did Shalandra and Guntig.  For a number of heartbeats Theredin said nothing, but then he spoke.

“You may consider your mission successful, princess.  I will agree to a trade compact with the Snow Leopard Tribe and will send a trade delegation immediately.  
From what you tell me any delay and the passes will be closed by ice and snow.  As for the military alliance that is more difficult, although I have no objections.  
However, there is a complicating factor and that is I can make no alliance that goes against the federation of tribes created by Queen Ipola of the Moon Tribe.  
To do so would be to break my word to her and would be regarded as a declaration of war.”

“I understand,” Zenaria said.  She had heard from other members of Theredin’s tribe of Queen Ipola, the beautiful and powerful queen of the Moon Tribe, who 
had through force and diplomacy managed to unite the various tribal factions of Erogenia.  She had realized soon after arriving in the stockade of the Hawk 
Tribe that she should probably have sought out Ipola first, however, there was no way to do that without traveling through the lands of the Hawk Tribe and so 
she had made Ipola her next diplomatic mission.  In the meantime, she had accomplished about as much as she could among the Hawk Tribe.  

She said nothing further on the topic, not wishing to spoil the rest of the bath, but she knew that in a few days she would have to leave, in spite of her desire to 
spend as much time in Theredin’s bed as possible.  However, she could not just rush off; it would be an insult to Erogenian hospitality.  

Theredin sensed her mood and moved closer to her.  “Do not worry, princess.  We will make good use of your remaining time and I will give you a token of 
safe passage to carry to Ipola to show that you have my support.”

Zenaria acknowledged his comment by finding his hand under water.  They remained that way until certain portions of Zenaria’s skin began to resemble dried 
apples.  

As she pulled on her clothes Zenaria had a thought.  She held out her lion spider necklace to Theredin.  “Give this to the one you send to the land of the snow 
leopard.  It will be recognized by anyone who sees it and they will know that I have sent you.  I will have Shalandra compose a message as well.”

Theredin nodded.  “It would not go down well if my emissary was to be treated as an enemy.”

Zenaria smiled her agreement, but the threat Theredin alluded to was very real.  The Snow Leopard Tribe had been isolated for so long that its members were 
inclined to treat almost every stranger as a potential enemy, often striking first and asking questions later.  

The bath over, they returned to the village and Zenaria spent the rest of the day with Shalandra making arrangements as to what items of trade would be useful 
between her tribe and Theredin’s.  That night she and Theredin made love again as they did the next two nights.  And then it was time to leave.  

As she climbed on the horse Theredin had given her as a gift, Zenaria wished that she had not drunk quite so much or made love quite so vigorously the night 
before.  Theredin had insisted on giving a final feast before sending her off but the lovemaking was a mutual idea.  It meant that she had gotten very little sleep, 
and getting up before dawn to prepare for her departure did not improve matters, however, many members of the Hawk Tribe were there to see her off as were 
Theredin, Guntig, and of course Shalandra.

She said farewell to her sister last, kissing her on the cheek and then turned quickly away and mounting her horse so that no one would see her tears.  Shalandra 
was not fooled, nor very likely was anyone else, but Zenaria did not turn back.  She kicked her horse into motion and headed out through the gates of the 
stockade, wondering what adventures awaited her.


  PREVIOUS
  CHAPTER

  WIZARD'S LAIR
  MAIN PAGE  
  L'ESPION'S
  STORY PAGE  
  NEXT
  CHAPTER