Tales of
Erogenia
Based
on the online comic created by J.E. Draft.
Episode 3: The
Chapter
9: New
Loves
Zenaria awoke to a cool
darkness. A small oil-filled
bowl burned beside her, providing a flickering
light. She was lying across a
large hammock under a light cotton sheet.
She must have made some sort of sound because immediately a form stepped
out of the darkness and came to stand beside
her.
“You are awake,”
Sulia said, stating the obvious.
“How do you feel?”
“I’m…”
Zenaria hesitated. It was a bit
too soon after awakening to be answering questions, but she came up with
a suitable answer.
“Hungry.”
“I will get you
food,” Sulia smiled. “I
don’t doubt that you are very hungry and probably thirsty as
well.”
Zenaria pushed herself to
a sitting position and discovered that she was completely
nude. “How long have I been
sleeping?” she asked, placing her hand on her shrunken
stomach.
“Three
days. The shaman said that using
your magic pushed your strength to the limit.”
“My magic?” Zenaria
asked.
“Your power over the
big cats. The leopard you summoned
to kill Qirlan.”
“I did not summon
her,” Zenaria said. “I
asked her and she agreed.”
“That makes it even
more magical,” Sulia smiled.
“I will be back with food and drink
immediately.” She stepped
out the door leaving Zenaria to wonder if she should go back to the hammock
or get dressed. The leopard-skin
skirt Qirlan had provided for her was lying on low wooden table just a few
feet away as was the necklace and the gold jewellery.
She was in a small square room
built of the same black stone as the city
walls. It contained the table,
a chair, and the hammock and a large gourd that she supposed was used as
a commode.
There was nothing else except
the clothing and jewellery Qirlan had given her and which she regarded with
distaste. “No,” she
said. “None of this is
mine.” She stepped over
to a familiar object and picked up her
sword. “Just
this.”
She swayed as a sudden wave
of dizziness swept over her.
“I need food,” she
muttered. “Where is
Sulia?”
Her question was answered
when the Urulanan princess appeared a few heartbeats later. She was carrying
a waterskin and with her were two girls carrying a variety of gourds and
bowls. They set them down of
the low table. Sulia picked up
the skirt and looked at Zenaria
questioningly. “You aren’t
going to wear this? It is very
fine.”
Zenaria squatted before
the table and began to eat. There
were a number of foods she had never seen before including what appeared
to be a gourd of curdled milk. She
started with that and moved on to more solid food, eating slowly as to not
tax her system after three days of
starvation.
“No,” she
replied. “They do not have
pleasant memories.”
“I will have something
brought to you.” She turned
to one of the young girls.
“Clothing for the princess.
Something in about my size.
And tell the Shining One that the White Princess is
awake.”
“The White Princess?”
Zenaria asked wryly.
“That is what my people
are calling you. It does no good
to correct them after your victory over Qirlan.”
“I suppose it is better
that white-skinned bitch,” Zenaria smiled, remembering what Qirlan had
called her.
She continued to eat carefully
and was starting on a gourd of sliced fruit when Varden entered, followed
closely by Kindra. The knight
had shed his armour and was dressed as an Urulanan warrior in knee-length
skirt, although he usually shunned jewellery he was wearing a simple glass
bead necklace. She noted with
some interest that Kindra wore an almost identical bauble about her
throat. That fact confirmed her
rising suspicions.
Varden immediately went
to Zenaria’s side. For an
instant she thought he might take her hand, but he stopped short of that,
instead kneeling beside her.
“How fares my princess?” he asked.
“Well enough,”
Zenaria smiled. “And you
seem in fine fettle.” Her
gaze went briefly to Kindra and Varden turned bright red.
Zenaria
grinned. She always enjoyed it
when Varden was jarred out of his rigid moral
framework. Her meal had restored
much of her strength and she noted with annoyance that her body was
unmarked. Varden’s healing
talents had clearly been at work, although this time she couldn’t say
that she was unhappy about the result.
Evidence of her degrading ordeal at the hands of Qirlan had been
completely erased, and she couldn’t help but be grateful for
that.
She got slowly to her feet,
testing her strength and deciding that she felt well enough picked up her
sword again. She needed to fashion
a scabbard for the blade and she wanted something to cover her heavy
breasts. Attractive as were her
female assets, and in spite of the Urulana’s lack of bias regarding
nudity, her breasts tended to be something of a liability in combat and she
wanted to keep them under control.
She said as much to Sulia, leaving Varden an even deeper shade of
crimson.
“Come,” the Urulana
princess said. “I will help
you find what you need; and then there is a royal audience with the queen
and Durlag.”
“Durlag?”
“The
shaman. He is most interested
in seeing the warrior who defeated so powerful a shaman as
Qirlan.”
Sulia laughed at Zenaria’s
frown. “Do not
worry. The Urulana do not stand
on ceremony. The queen wishes
to welcome you as a daughter and the shaman as a
warrior.”
“That is well,”
Zenaria said. “I look forward
to meting the queen and your shaman.”
Sulia
grinned. “He is also my
father. Perhaps I should have
mentioned that first.”
“That makes it an even
greater honour,” Zenaria said and Sulia smiled her pleasure at the
reply.
The Urulana city was simple
in its layout. There were only
three main streets; one inside
each of the three concentric walls.
Almost all the buildings were built up against the inside of one of
these walls and they were all of the same height so that their roofs could
serve as a platform on which the Urulana warriors could stand when defending
their city. The outermost wall
contained most of the dwellings of the Urulana and the second wall the various
shops along with the merchants and artisans that served in them, so it was
to the second circle that Sulia led
Zenaria.
As Zenaria watched she was
struck by the cleanliness of the city and its ordered
construction. Animals were only
brought into the city when needed so the street was relatively free of
dung. Most of the houses seemed
to be about the same size, consisting of a single story building standing
a little higher than Zenaria could raise her
hands. Sulia explained that they
were large enough for a family of four and if the family grew larger than
that then they were allowed to expand into the building next to them, provided
it was not occupied. If it was
then the family could move to the other side of the city where they were
still a number of unoccupied dwellings.
Access to the inner circle
of buildings was through any of three gates passing through the second wall
and it was through one of these that Sulia led
Zenaria. Once inside she found
herself passing one artisan after the
other. These buildings were taller
as their roofs had to provide a second walkway for the defence of the second
wall, which was taller than the first.
Zenaria noted the shops
and artisans as she passed. There
were providers of spices, cloth, leather goods,
metal products, pottery, and
many others as well as carpenters, smiths, spearmakers, and many other
crafts. Although the products
were crude and the selection of crafts limited compared to the large Sandak
city she had seen, it was a much larger variety that anything in the simple
wooden stockade where she had been
raised.
Sulia led her first to a
shop where a woman was engaged in sewing the simple cloth skirts worn by
men and women of the Urulana. Sulia
explained Zenaria ‘s need and the woman gave her a bit of a strange
look but nodded. “I suppose
it does make sense,” she said.
You are a little better developed than most warriors and your fighting
style requires more movement.”
Zenaria was surprised that
the woman knew anything about her, but Sulia explained that the White Princess
was famous all over the city and that the Shining One had fully described
her fighting prowess as had the members of the Companion Guard Zenaria had
helped free from the slavers.
Zenaria was flattered and
a little embarrassed, but at the same time secretly pleased that her martial
qualities were recognized. She
waited while the seamstress measured and fashioned a cloth halter for
her. At the last instant she
wondered about payment and was surprised to discover than none was
required. The Urulana were strongly
communal and each member of society was expected to make a contribution according
to his or her skill or proclivity.
As long as each did his or her part then each received what was needed
in order to go about their daily
business. Thus some attended
to agricultural tasks; others were hunters; some were artisans; and so on;
each fulfilling a particular task of
importance. All were expected
to act in defence of their city, although most of the patrolling and warfare
was carried out by the younger warrior such as Sulia and her
companions.
The seamstress was highly
skilled and soon completed the cotton halter Zenaria
required. Upon trying it on;
she found it fit perfectly and she swung her sword, testing its performance
against the strain of battle.
Something of a crowd had
gathered while she waited and her prowess with the sword drew some admiring
oohs and ahs. It was all a little
embarrassing for the Snow Leopard
princess. Zenaria was not used
to people clustering around her in an admiring audience.
Sulia noticed her discomfiture
and grinned. “You will have
to get used to it. You and Varden
are most unusual. Most of my
people have never seen anyone with skin that is so pale and those they have
seen were all slavers. You are
quite a novelty and everyone is most anxious to see
you.”
“Perhaps they will
get used to us in time,” Zenaria said
hopefully.
“I doubt it,”
Sulia said. “I still
haven’t gotten used to you and I have known you the
longest.”
“I hope that is a good
thing.”
“It is a very good
thing.”
Sulia’s last comment
received an inquiring look from Zenaria.
It was difficult to tell exactly what the Urulanan princess meant
by it. But she let it go as Sulia
led her farther along the street to the leather
worker. Zenaria showed him her
sword and explained what she wanted.
The man took a few careful
measurements. “I will have
it ready by tomorrow,” he promised.
Zenaria nodded her thanks
and let Sulia lead her from the shop.
“Time to meet the queen,” Sulia
said.
Somewhat apprehensively,
Zenaria followed Sulia toward the heart of the
city. She knew that there was
likely nothing to be afraid of, but she also knew that rulers sometimes caused
harm without intending to. They
entered a final gate and passed the last of the triple
walls. This part of the fortress
was quite different from the rest.
It contained only a single building, built of the same black stone
as the rest of the city. It stood
two stories tall and was crowned by wooden structure that resembled a
temple.
“The House of Rahlu,”
Sulia said.
“
What struck Zenaria was
the complete absence of any guards.
It reminded her very much of the main building in the tribal compound
she called home. It was thought
of as a palace by her people, but was more like a central meeting hall where
the queen happened to reside. There
were no guards there either and Queen Cirilia, her mother, was just as likely
to be found sewing some garment or much more likely practicing her sword
craft with her latest lover. As
a result, it was no real surprise when a tall woman and an equally tall man
emerged from a door in the front of the building and approached
them.
There was no mistaking
Sulia’s resemblance to the Queen.
They both had the same aristocratic cast to their features and the
same slender but powerful build.
The queen was still very beautiful even though there were streaks
of grey at her temples. She was
dressed and ornamented like Sulia, but with one
addition. A heavy necklace of
ivory hung from her neck. It
was so like the one Qirlan had given to Zenaria that it was almost too much
of a coincidence.
Beside the Queen was a male
warrior of about the same age. He
appeared much like the other men Zenaria had seen, bearing no special mark
upon him expect for a feathered staff that he carried in his right
hand. She guessed that this was
Durlag, the queen’s consort and the shaman of the Urulana.
Not quite sure of how to
act, Zenaria watched Sulia. The
young warrior moved forward, went down on one knee and then
rose. “Mother,” she
said, I have brought the White Princess.”
Zenaria emulated Sulia,
going to one knee and then rising.
She felt a bit awkward doing it, as she was still holding her naked
sword, but neither the Queen nor the shaman seemed disturbed by
this.
“I see you have
recovered,” the Queen said.
“Please accept my thanks and that of my people for the service
you have done us.”
“I did nothing, but
help a friend and attempt to save myself, your majesty,” Zenaria
replied.
“You are too modest,
but your answer becomes a warrior,” the Queen
replied. “I see that you
have found clothing more to your liking, but where is the necklace that you
were given by the Ape Master?”
“I choose not to wear
it your majesty. It is a reminder
of my humiliation and failure.”
“It is a trophy of
war and a thing of power,” Durlag said
suddenly. “Rahlu has chosen
that you should wear it as such.”
There will be a feast tonight
in your honour and that of your companion,” the Queen
said. “Wear it then and
sit by Durlag. I believe he wishes
to speak with you of your power over animals.”
“I will, your majesty,
but I think you honour me too much.”
“You have been well
taught, White Princess. Your
mother must be a great ruler. But
there is no need for false modesty here.
Tonight we will sing your praises and recite your
deeds. This is shall go into
our history.”
The interview seemed to
be at an end, and Sulia went down on one knee
again. After a moment of hesitation
Zenaria did the same and out of the corner of her eye saw the Queen nod
approvingly. Then the Queen and
the shaman turned and entered the building.
“My mother does you
a great honour,” Sulia said.
“I have never seen her have a formal meeting with anyone outside
the
“I am pleased to be
so honoured,” Zenaria
replied.
Sulia
laughed. “You need not be
so formal with me. We are friends
and companions are we not.
Come. I will show you
the rest of my city.”
The tour included the fields
outside the city and Zenaria was pleased to discover that her strength had
completely returned. As they
tramped through the orchards and neatly planted crops Sulia pointed out each
one.
Zenaria noted with interest
and approval that the workers in the fields were of all ages and included
many young men and women that were clearly warriors as their spears were
placed at the edge of the fields as they worked with hoes to keep down the
weeds. It was an exact parallel
with the people her tribe who shared in all tasks.
She estimated the population
of the Urulana at no more than five
thousand. “Are there any
more of your people elsewhere?” she asked Sulia.
“There are other
settlements, but all live within sight of the
“And beyond the
Sulia thought for a few
heartbeats before replying.
“Well, there are the slavers, but no one knows what land they
come from. Only that it lies
to the east.”
“So no one has ever
been to the land of the slavers?” Zenaria
wondered.
“None that have ever
returned.” Sulia’s
answer reminded Zenaria that the slavers had probably taken many of her people
into captivity never to be seen again.
“Why do you ask
this?” Sulia inquired.
“I am far from my own
land,” Zenaria answered.
“One day I may wish to return, and I was hoping that you might
be able to help me.”
“I will be sad when
you leave,” Sulia said.
“But I know that you must go.
One such as you is not destined to live among the
Urulana.”
“I am grateful for
your friendship and hospitality,” Zenaria replied, “but I am a
princess of the Snow Leopard. I
must return to my people someday.”
Sulia did not comment further,
but as they returned to the city Zenaria thought about how she and Varden
were going to find their way back to their
homelands. She had no idea where
they were. She only knew that
she was so far away from Erogenia that she recognized none of the constellations
in the night sky.
“Tonight,” Sulia
said, as they entered the gate, “there will be a celebration in your
honour. Then you may speak with
Fulan. He knows much of the world
and may be able to help you.”
Zenaria remembered that
Fulan already wanted to speak to her about her ability to talk to the big
cats. Perhaps they could exchange
information.
They returned to the house
where Zenaria had awakened. On
the way they stopped by the leather worker to pick up the sheath for her
sword. Zenaria wondered how she
was going to pay for it until Sulia reminded her that no form of currency
was used in Urulana society. And
from the way the leather worker presented the sheath to her she doubted he
would have accepted payment in any case.
It felt strange to be treated as if she were almost a goddess, but
there was little she could do about it.
She thanked the leather worker for his efforts and sheathed her sword,
pleased to discover that the sheath and harness were just as she
desired.
For the first time since
being captured by the Urtts she felt properly
dressed. With her sword slung
over her shoulder she felt ready for anything and was looking forward to
the evening’s celebrations. It
would give her a chance to speak with the shaman and perhaps discover if
there was a way to get back to her home.
As night fell, Zenaria dressed
as she had been asked, wearing the necklace Qirlan had given
her. She felt uncomfortable putting
it on, but she knew that the Queen and Fulan would expect her to wear it
as a symbol of her victory over the evil shaman if nothing
else. And she remembered that
Fulan had said it was an object of power.
As Qirlan’s conqueror it was only fitting that she wear
it.
Sulia accompanied her as
did Varden and Kindra. It was
obvious now that the young woman Varden had healed had attached herself to
him and that her obvious infatuation with the knight was
returned. It was a situation
that Zenaria shrugged off. Unless
pledged to one another members of Erogenian society were free to choose their
sex partners and the fact that she and Varden had been brief lovers was not
considered at all binding. She
could not deny that she had enjoyed her liaison with the knight, but she
felt no rancour against him for selecting someone
new.
For Varden she knew; it
was not the same. He had been
a virgin when she and Zenaria had first made love, and he had sworn to marry
her in order to preserve her honour; an idea that Zenaria found quaint and
amusing. She had never considered
holding him to his promise and now that the relationship seemed to have ended
she was quite content to let him go his way.
She hoped that the celebration
would give her a chance to speak with
Varden. She had no idea what
an Urulana celebration might consist of, but she expected that she might
be able to get him alone for a short time and let him know that she saw nothing
wrong with his connection with Kindra.
As they walked through the
streets toward the inner circle of walls, they were accompanied by a throng
of other Urulana. It seemed that
everyone in the city was headed for the same place and most of the people
in the crowd moving through the streets were carrying baskets of food or
large gourds and leather skins that Zenaria guessed contained some sort of
beverage.
As the crows surged through
the street, many turned to stare at and greet the white-skinned
strangers. Zenaria could hear
the constant murmur of “White Princess” and “Shining One,”
as she and Varden accompanied Sulia and
Kindra. Most of the comments
were part of greetings, many spoken almost in reverence.
It made Zenaria distinctly
uncomfortable. It seemed to her
that if she was truly worthy of the awe and esteem of the Urulana she would
not have allowed herself to be captured and degraded in the first
place.
They finally reached the
centre of Luruana. One the top
of the temple-like building a large fire was burning in a great iron brazier,
its flames throwing a flickering light over the city
centre. It was aided by dozens
of torches placed around the encircling wall of the inner
courtyard. To one side of the
temple-palace a steady thrumming created by the pounding of a dozen huge
drums filled the area with sound.
It was both larger and more
spectacular than any event Zenaria had ever attended in her
homeland. It seemed that everywhere
she went she was reminded of just how insignificant her people
were. But she still would not
have traded life among the clan of the Snow Leopard for any other, and she
was suddenly and inexplicably overcome with a wave of
homesickness. Her mind went to
her infant daughter who had been left in the care of a close relative as
was the custom of her tribe. She
would be over a year old now and although Zenaria had known that her mission
would take her from her people for months she had a sudden longing to be
home.
Something of what she was
feeling must have flashed across her face because without a word Sulia suddenly
moved closer to her and took her hand.
Surprised, Zenaria met the smiling eyes of the Urulana
princess. She made no effort
to withdraw her hand, but let Sulia lead her toward a wooden dais that had
been sent up in front of the
temple-palace. Seated there were
Fulan and Walenia, the Urulana queen, and next to them were several empty
seats obviously intended for their honoured guests.
Sulia led them to the Queen
and bowed before her mother as did Varden and
Kindra. Walenia motioned for
them to sit beside her and several young boys and girls stepped forward with
food and several large gourds of drink.
Following the lead of Walenia
and Fulan, Zenaria helped herself to the food, picking up a chicken wing
and nibbling it while she studied the gourd of brew that was presented to
her. “Do not worry,”
Sulia said as if guessing her thoughts.
“It is fermented coconut mixed with guava juice and
berries. It is very sweet and
good. We call it
wam.”
Zenaria picked up the gourd
estimating that it held a good quart of heady aromatic liquid and sipped
it cautiously. After her experience
with the shugo any beverage was suspect, but it was as Sulia had said it
would be and she took a second sip and then a third, keeping in mind that
it would not be good form to get roaring drunk in the presence of the royal
family.
The brew helped to settle
her and she was soon chatting with Fulan and Walenia, both of whom were quite
curious as to her background. It
helped that both had spoken extensively with Varden and the knight had filled
them in on many details of his world, but they were most interested to discover
that Zenaria’s life in Erogenia was radically different from Varden’s
Kivalian background. However,
it was Zenaria’s conversation with Fulan that proved most
interesting.
“Show me the necklace
you won from the sorcerer,” he
started. Zenaria lifted the heavy
ivory and ebony necklace from her
shoulders. It was too heavy to
comfortably wear only about her throat.
Fulan gasped as it touched
his hands, pulling them back as if they had been
burned. Then he reached out
cautiously and took the necklace into his
hands. “I was
right. This is an artefact of
great power.”
Power?” Zenaria
asked. “Then why would Qirlan
have me wear it?”
“I suspect he stored
a great deal of his magic in it,” Fulan
answered. “To me the necklace
hums like a hive of bees. Qirlan
lives there still.”
Zenaria’s eyes
widened. “You mean he could
be reborn?”
Fulan shook his
head.
“No. Dead is dead,
but I suspect he used the necklace to amplify his power over the animals
he enslaved. He used you to carry
it because he sensed that you too had some affinity with
animals.”
“He used me like a
mule,” Zenaria exclaimed.
Fulan looked at her curiously
and she suddenly realized that the shaman had no idea of what a mule
was. “An animal like a zebra,
used as a beast of burden.”
“Ah yes,” Fulan
said. “The Shining One has
spoken of how he and his people enslave the larger
animals. It is the same among
you as well?”
Enslave was not the word
Zenaria would have chosen.
“It is like your cattle goats and chickens,” she
explained. Only we usually do
not eat them.”
She knew that this was not
entirely true. Among the Erogenians
mules and donkeys were often eaten when they got too old, but it was not
their primary purpose. However,
her explanation seemed to satisfy Fulan.
“I suspect,” he
continued, “that he did not realize the true extent of your
power. He sought to use you to
aid his cause, but he underestimated your strength, much to our good
fortune.”
“But I have no real
power,” Zenaria protested.
“I call to the leopard and she comes to me, but she is not
summoned. She comes as a
sister.”
“And so it should
be,” Fulan replied. He lifted
his gourd and drank deeply, wiping his chin before
continuing. “Our wild brothers
and sisters were not meant to be dominated and enslaved as Qirlan used
them. Your power is weak and
untrained, but it will grow in time.”
Zenaria drank
also. The wam was a deceptively
heady mixture and she could already feel its
effect. She had no wish to end
up falling down drunk so she set down the gourd and using a pointed wooden
stick provided for the purpose, picked up a slice of baked aubergine and
a drumstick. She considered
Fulan’s comments. He had
set the necklace on the knee-high table in front of her and she made no effort
to pick it up. His inferred offer
to study under him was a tempting offer, but it got in the way of her desire
to find her way home. However,
there seemed a rather limited choice.
Until she came up with some sort of plan to return home she was pretty
much stuck where she was.
Fulan had turned his attention
to Varden and was discussing his powers of
healing. It was apparent form
their conversation that it was a topic they had investigated before and the
knight seemed genuinely interested, ignoring the full gourd of wam that sat
in front of him. She glanced
at Sulia and caught the princess looking at
her. Sulia smiled warmly, her
full lips parting to reveal her perfect teeth.
Zenaria licked her
lips. In the flickering firelight,
Sulia was more beautiful than ever, her dark eyes like deep mysterious
pools. “Do you enjoy the
drums?” she said, nodding her head toward the
drummers.
There
were five drums each made of leather stretched over large wooden
frames. They ranged in size from
a yard in diameter to a giant twice that
size. Their powerful thrumming
filled the air, vibrating Zenaria’s bones with their
power. “Magnificent,”
she answered. She noticed that
a number of Urulana, especially the young, were on their feet dancing to
the almost hypnotic rhythm.
Sulia caught the direction
of her gaze and got to her feet.
“Come,” she said.
“Before the wam goes to your head.”
Unresisting Zenaria allowed
Sulia to lead her into the crowd of
dancers. She soon discovered
that their athletic efforts were not as random and she had thought, but involved
an intricate set of dance steps.
But with Sulia to help her she was soon dancing with the best of them
her natural grace and balance compensating for her lack of
experience.
The thundering music seemed
to go right through her and wrap itself around her
body. As the tempo increased
her movements became more and more frenzied as if she was in some sort of
magic spell, but one thing kept her attention throughout the frenetic activity
and that was Sulia. Her movements
were as graceful as a gazelle and she seemed to float through the
crowd. Zenaria watched her every
move, delighting in the graceful sway of her firm breasts and flexing of
her powerful legs. She was the
most beautiful creature Zenaria had ever
seen.
“You are like a
kudu,” Zenaria panted; “Strong and
graceful.”
“And you are like one
of the great cats,” Sulia replied, her chest heaving from
exertion. “Deadly but
beautiful.”
At that moment someone raised
a voice in song. It was a sound
that soared over the pounding of the
drums. Zenaria stared in surprise
as the drums suddenly went silent.
Queen Walenia had moved to the edge of the raised platform and was
singing in a clear, powerful voice.
She started out high, her voice soaring like an eagle and then dropped
so low it could barely be heard.
Then it rose again, sweeping the listeners along with
it.
Zenaria listened enthralled,
a lump growing in her throat. The
song reminded her so much of home she suddenly yearned to be back in her
land of snow and forest. It was
the custom of her people to sing the great sagas of the Snow Leopard tribe
on important occasions, such as the day of the winter solstice or the decision
of a couple to take the Golden Path, the most complete of the love bonds
of Erogenia.
The song that Queen Walenia
sang was, of course, different in style to that sung by her people, but it
had much the same emotional power.
It was a song of celebration, sung to thank the great god Rahlu whose
immense power was even now demonstrated in a low rumbling and dancing of
fire near the rim of the
When she was finished the
drummers took up their rhythmic pounding again, but in a single powerful
beat as still another singer made her way to the
stage. To Zenaria’s surprise
it was Kindra. She raised her
voice in a soaring soprano that told the tale of a great battle between the
Urulana and an invasion of the Tobor, the white marauders who raided the
Urulana for slaves. The battle
raged back and forth eventually resulting in a complete route of the slavers
who were chased from Urulana lands, never again to return in such
numbers.
Zenaria stood with Sulia
listening with awe to the performance while she drank wam for her
gourd. By the time the performance
was finished she was filled with a warm glow, both from the drink and from
the song.
As Kindra finished Sulia
gave Zenaria’s arm a light touch and then moved
forward. She took the stage and
began a low throbbing song of romance; a tale of an Urulana princess stolen
from her home by an evil magician and forced to use her wit and strength
to preserve her virtue until finally overcoming the shaman’s magic and
returning in triumph to her people.
It paralleled her own adventures
so closely that Zenaria had no doubt Sulia had chosen it purposely to illustrate
their adventure. As Sulia finished
she couldn’t help herself. She
moved toward the stage as if pulled by invisible strings and found herself
the focus of thousands of eyes. But
she was well prepared. The people
of the Snow Leopard loved song and dance, and Zenaria had long prided herself
in her evocative contralto.
Her song was a favourite
of the Tribe of the Snow Leopard.
It told of two young warriors, lovers for only a year, and Copper-Bonded,
who were assailed by a horde of Urtts.
Fighting to the end, they died in one another’s arms surrounded
by the bodies of a thousand Urtts.
It was a resounding saga complete with an emotional and most satisfying
ending that left many in the audience choked with
emotion.
Stepping down from the platform,
she was met by a tearful Sulia.
Without a word the Urulana princess took her hand and led her away
from the crowd. Behind her the
drums picked up again as the dancing resumed, the singing having ended at
least temporarily. But Zenaria
had eyes only for Sulia as the brown-skinned beauty led her from the inner
circle toward the outer wall.
They hurried through the
dark streets; between the black-stone buildings; the cooler night air flowing
over Zenaria’ skin. Her
body tingled and her pulse raced as they approached the small dwelling where
her hammock waited.
There was no light in the
small room, but light was the last thing Zenaria and Sulia
needed. They found one another,
their arms playing over one another’s bodies as they moved
together. Zenaria found Sulia’s
lips, marvelling at their softness.
It was her first passionate kiss with a woman, and it was like nothing
else she had ever experienced.
Sulia’s lips seemed to melt, drawing her into an ever deeper
kiss, her tongue slipping between Zenaria’s lips and binding with hers
in a kiss that had both women gasping for
breath.
Sulia’s knee moved
between Zenaria’s legs, her thigh lifting to caress Zenaria’s most
intimate area. Zenaria’s
hands found Sulia’s powerful buttocks, pulling the Urulana princess
to her as they tumbled to the hammock.
As Sulia’s fingers
fumbled at the ties to her halter, Zenaria undid the clasp holding Sulia’s
skirt. She continued her kiss,
sucking on Sulia’s lower lip and then moving higher to kiss her eyelids,
before moving to lips to her neck, her tongue licking the sweat from her
throat and then she went lower kissing Sulia’s collarbone, and then
running her tongue over Sulia’s upper contour of her
breasts.
Sulia moved over Zenaria
offering Zenaria‘s eager tongue access to her breasts and
nipples. Zenaria could feel the
tender buds harden. Her dark-skinned
lover arched her back and her finger’s sought Zenaria’s hot, wet
centre, eliciting a cry as she found the tiny bud at the top of Zenaria’s
vulva.
It was a different kind
of lovemaking. There was no
penetration; just the soft interplay of fingers, lips, and
tongues. Sulia took the lead;
more familiar with the pattern of woman to woman lovemaking and Zenaria followed,
touching, holding, stroking, licking, until they were both moaning in frenzied
passion.
Zenaria cried out as
Sulia’s tongue dipped into her throbbing, soft wet
centre. She arched her back,
crying out as her body shuddered in unbridled
passion. She shuddered again,
her fervour even more intense as Sulia worked her
magic. The pleasure was so intense
that for a few heartbeats her body trembled
uncontrollably.
But her partner was not
finished. Skilfully Sulia took
her to an even higher level; until she was quivering like a horse that has
been run too hard. Spent with
passion she sprawled across the hammock, her chest heaving while the sweat
cooled on her body.
Sulia lay across her, her
hand cradling Zenaria’s left breast.
She kissed her gently on the lips and then moved her mouth to her
eyelids and throat. Incredibly,
Zenaria felt her loins responding again.
But now it was her turn to return the favours of the Urulana
princess. While Sulia’s
hot mouth continued to move over her body, she found the throbbing heart
of the princess’s pleasure centre.
She was not as skilled as
Sulia in making love to a woman, but she was patient and caring and had an
almost instinctive sense of what her partner
wanted. With gentle patience
she caressed and stroked Sulia into the same quivering sexual release that
she had experienced.
Mutually satiated, they
lay in one another’s arms, their breathing slowing, enjoying the peaceful
sensation and listening to the beating of the other’s
heart. In that blissful state,
sleep overcame them.
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