Tales of
Erogenia
Episode 1: The Snow
Princess
Chapter 17:
Balancing the
Cha
As Zenaria stared at Tren,
a whirl of emotions, spun through her mind; joy, surprise, trepidation, and
a strange aching in her heart. For
some reason she was short of breath and hot in places she should not have
been hot. Tren’s first words,
however, swept her initial reaction away.
“So you have returned,” he said, his voice completely devoid
of emotion and his comment was directed to
Ulua.
Zenaria felt her heart
twist. It was as if Tren had
not even seen her. He was focused
entirely on Ulua, his hands on the hilts of his twin blades, his eyes cold
enough to frost his breath.
“I am glad to see you too, brother,” Ulua said
calmly.
Zenaria’s eyes
widened. It was like watching
two cats circle one another. What
had come over the two assassins that they should show such
animosity? Without thinking she
drew her sword and stepped between them, her barbarian anger surging to the
fore. “What is
this? How can you give your sister
so poor a welcome?”
Tren seemed to see her for
the first time and his dark eyes widened in
surprise. A strange emotion flickered
across his face, one that was almost instantly replaced by his usual emotionless
calm.
“He thinks I have betrayed
the order,” Ulua explained.
“Such an act is punishable by death.”
“I will not let that
happen,” Zenaria proclaimed.
She looked at Tren, her blue eyes flashing
fire. “You will have to
go through me first.”
“But she betrayed the
assassin’s creed,” Tren
protested. “She should be
dead.”
“I care not for your
muddled creed,” Zenaria growled.
“Without Ulua I would not have escaped and without me she would
still be a prisoner. We are bonded
as warriors of the Snow Leopard.”
“I thank you, my
sister,” Ulua said, touching Zenaria’s arm, “but there is
no need.” She turned to
Tren. “There was no betrayal,
my brother.” And then Ulua
explained her captivity and the predicament that had kept her from killing
herself.
Tren appeared relieved and
tears glistened in his eyes. It
was the first time Zenaria had ever seen him display much in the way of
emotion. He held out his arms
and enfolded Ulua within them.
They hugged only briefly and then Tren stepped back looking into
Ulua’s eyes. “I thought
I had lost you when you did not return and then when I heard that you had
been taken prisoner and had not ended your life I thought you had betrayed
the
Beni Sidra and I would have to kill
you. You must tell me of your
adventures and how you managed to escape the High Thuski, but first we must
decide how to deal with this harem you have brought
me.”
The caves were large enough
that there was room for all of the women.
What was lacking was the sort of furnishings they were used to and
the quality and quantity of food and
drink. However, despite some
complaining the young women seemed content to put up with the hardships of
their existence in return for the promise of
freedom. They knew that with
the amount of gold each of them carried they had the means to set themselves
up in a life of luxury and control who they selected as
husbands.
“We will have to get
them out of here as soon as possible,” Tren
said. “It is only a matter
of time before one or the other of them becomes discontent and decides to
try and find her way back to the Sandakar.”
Zenaria and Ulua nodded
their agreement. They settled
in the harem girls as well as they were able and then prepared a meal by
combining the rations Ulua had ordered the Thuski to provide for
them.
While eating, Ulua and Zenaria
told Tren of their adventures. The
telling took until late at night at which time Zenaria and Ulua were more
than ready for sleep. They slept
in their robes, Tren commenting that tomorrow he would try to acquire proper
bedrolls.
Tren was gone when Zenaria
awoke. Ulua was busy working
up some sort of breakfast for the two dozen young women, most of whom were
still asleep. “You might
want to see if you can work out some latrine
arrangements. We can’t have
them going just anywhere and the place Tren used is not large enough for
so many.”
Zenaria nodded and trotted
off to see what she could find. She
selected a dry tunnel that branched off from the main cave and was not too
far away from where the harem beauties were
sleeping. It sloped appropriately
away from the main cave and was quite
dry. She acquainted the girls
which her choice and then returned to Ulua to help complete the breakfast
preparations.
“We can’t stay
here long,” she commented when she saw how much food Ulua was
preparing. Every one of Tren’s
cooking utensils was in use and there still was not enough to feed everyone
at once. In addition, the food
was being used up at an alarming rate.
They would have to find a way out of Uhra Don and
quickly. The problem was, Zenaria
was not sure that the pampered harem girls could make it across the desert
wasteland she and Tren had crossed.
Tren returned near
“What is our way
our?” inquire Zenaria.
“The way we came
in.” He went on after noting
Zenaria’s look of concern.
“I know it will be a tough trek, but here is really no
choice. I can’t bring in
almost thirty camels. I would
be sure to be noticed. We will
have to travel at night to try and avoid most of the heat and hope that these
harem girls can stand up to a five day trek across the
desert.”
The rest of the day passed
with various preparations a good deal of which was explaining to the harem
girls what the situation was. To
Zenaria’s surprise most of them reacted well to the prospect of a five
day walk through a desert hell.
Setia, one of the girls who had been Zenaria’s servant summed
up their attitudes best.
“Better to die of thirst than serve our lives as the Thuski’s
whores. We will follow you anywhere,
mistress.”
Zenaria was not sure if
most of the girls would agree with that sentiment, but no one contradicted
her. Zenaria found herself flattered
that Setia had pledged her loyalty to her rather than Tren, but she tried
not to get too full of herself. It
was Tren who knew that way across the desert, not her.
She busied herself during
the rest of the day helping to sort through the equipment needed to cross
the desert safely. Many of the
girls helped, which was fortunate as it took awhile to fill and stockpile
the numerous waterskins that would be needed for the
journey. Tren had little faith
in the ability of the young women to ration themselves on the desert march
so he had acquired waterskins that would be carried by the three camels he
had managed to acquire. That
way he could ration the water use by having it where he could keep an eye
on it. It took a good deal of
the day to fill the large waterskins and make sure that they were not
leaking. There was also the task
of creating packs for each of the women of an appropriate
size. Since the women ranged
in size from petite tall it was necessary to create individual burdens rather
than force all of the women to carry identical
loads. It took most of the day
to finish these various tasks, and after eating another meal prepared by
Ulua with the help of some of the women, Zenaria felt in need of a final
swim.
The noise of two dozen
chattering young women was close to driving her to
distraction. Zenaria found it
difficult to believe the amount of mindless noise the girls could generate
and she needed desperately to find some place away from
them. It was dark when she entered
the pool, but a quarter moon and the light of a billion stars provided enough
light that she had little trouble as she slipped into the cool
water. She sighed as the water
caressed her skin. Even in the
caves the desert heat was pervasive near the entrance and Zenaria had spent
much of her time near the entrance where the light was better, but the
temperature was higher.
As she stroked languidly
across the pool she found herself longing for the cool isolation of her subarctic
homeland. She thought back to
the spirit quest that had started her on her long
journey. Could it be that it
had only been a few months ago that she had left the stockade of the Snow
leopard? It seemed like
years. After what she had
accomplished she felt as if her quest should be
over. Surely helping to free
Ulua should count for something.
However, she knew it was not so.
There was still something lacking and she knew it with every fibre
of her being.
She had reached a shallow
area created by a rocky ledge that jutted out of the canyon wall on the far
side of the pool. During the
day it was the last part of the area surrounding the pool to be vacated by
the sun and Zenaria could feel the heat radiating from the rock, warming
the water. It was shallow enough
for her to reach the bottom and she rested there, her mind buzzing with the
question of her unfulfilled destiny.
It was at that time she realized that someone else was
there.
“Beautiful night for
a swim,” Tren commented from the base of the
cliff. He was almost completely
invisible, hidden in the shadows, but Zenaria knew that he was almost certainly
as nude as she was. Her mind
shot back to the time she had seen him emerge from the sun-drenched pool
in all of his naked glory. In
spite of being immersed in water up to her waist she was suddenly so warm
that she almost plunged back into the pool.
Zenaria stammered some
incomprehensible reply. For the
first time in her life her tongue was not
working. She was burning up,
barely able to answer, but more particularly it was where the heat was
concentrated. Her loins felt
as if they were on fire and an unnatural heat suffused her
breasts. Her mouth was dry and
her nipples were so taut that they tingled in
anticipation. She stood uncertainly
on the edge of the pool, the slight evening breeze playing around her overheated
body.
Tren moved slowly toward
her. “Come,” he said
holding out his hand. “It
is time to balance that cha you tried to explain to
me.”
Zenaria tried to speak,
but no words would come out. As
his hand touched her an electric shock surged through her
body. The touch jolted her, causing
her to jerk back. “I…I
can’t,” she stammered.
“M…my vow.”
“Very well,” Tren
answered, “then we will deal with your vow
now.”
“Here?” Zenaria
gasped, finding her full voice.
“But we are standing in water and have no
weapons.”
“We have what the gods
gave us,” Tren replied.
“What more do we need?”
Zenaria nodded
slowly. “Very well, but
I will not hold back.”
“I would not respect
you if you did,” Tren answered and then he struck, but not in any way
that Zenaria would have imagined.
He scooped water toward
her, but with such force that for an instant Zenaria was
blinded. She staggered back,
blinking frantically to clear her vision only to find that when she could
see again Tren was nowhere to be seen.
She turned in a circle,
her senses tingling. Surely this
was one of the stupidest battles she had ever been
in. “Come up, you coward,”
she raged, searching the surface of the pond for some sign of her
opponent. All that was revealed,
however, was the widening circle of ripples from where Tren had dived beneath
the surface. She turned again,
expecting an attack from below at any second and backed slowly toward the
rock wall. When Tren did surface
she would give him more than a warm welcome.
“Uuggh!
A
Tren-sized weight slammed into her from
above. Zenaria realized as her
head was forced beneath the surface of the water that she should have looked
up instead of down. She also
realized that taking a deep breath would also have been an even better
idea.
She struggled to find her
footing, but discovered that the impact of Tren’s body had driven her
not only down, but out into the deeper
water. She floundered, struggling
to fight her way to the surface against Tren’s
weight. Her lungs burned, her
struggles consuming the very oxygen she so desperately
needed. She twisted her body,
attempting to break free of the assassin’s grip, but Tren had wrapped
his arms and legs around her in such a way that he was impossible to
dislodge.
Zenaria refused to panic,
battling even as her mind began to fog.
Her groping hands found one of Tren’s
arms. Closing her fingers over
it she pulled even as her strength began to drain from her
body. She felt the arm
loosen. Just another second and
she would have enough leverage to break
free. A buzzing sounded between
her ears. Her grip
weakened. “Tricked,”
she thought.
“Tricked.” And
then the buzzing drowned out everything else as she slipped into
unconsciousness.
The first thing Zenaria
became aware of as she regained consciousness was a dim
glow. As her eyes adjusted she
realized that she was looking at a small stub of candle burning in a dark
cave. She moved in an attempt
to sit up and was hit by a blinding
headache. Her lungs also felt
heavy and it was difficult to breathe.
Nevertheless, she persisted in pushing herself into a sitting
position. A few feet away Tren
knelt on the floor of the cave, his eyes fixed on
her. He held out a small
cup. “Take
this. It will make you feel
better.”
Zenaria was conscious that
she was still unclothed, even though Tren had wrapped a loincloth around
his middle, but she took the cup without comment and swallowed the
liquid. It was bitter tasting
and fiery with the taste of a mixture of hot
spices. However, it had the effect
Tren had promised. Heat spread
though her mouth and sinus passages, clearing her head and loosening the
thickness in her lungs. She coughed,
bringing up some watery phlegm and immediately felt remarkably
better.
“You tricked me,”
she gasped. “You would not
have beaten me otherwise.”
“You are probably
right,” Tren agreed.
“But one the first rules of battle is to know your
opponent. You knew that I was
Beni
Sidra, but did not take into account that I might act like
one.”
Zenaria managed to get to
her feet, swaying slightly. She
had been shamed as a warrior, but she would not go back on her
word. “All right,”
she said, bowing her head.
“You have beaten me.
You are free to do what you want with me.”
“You are forgetting
what I said when we first met,” Tren
answered. “I take no woman
against her will. I will not
hold you to a promise that was so rashly made.”
Zenaria coloured in
anger. This was not how she had
visualized her defeat. She had
pictured herself being overcome by some valiant warrior only after a glorious
and prolonged battle, after which the victor would pin her to the ground
and ravish her until she was nearly
insensible. Instead she had been
tricked into fighting a battle at a place chosen by her opponent and held
under water until she was reduced to a drowned
rat.
“You are free to go,”
Tren continued. “I will
tell no one of what has transpired.”
Zenaria bristled like a
wolf. Tren’s seeming rejection
had her ready to spit blood. Had
the assassin no concept of honour? “What is
wrong? Am I not good enough for
you? You invite me to give myself
to you and then will not take what is yours by
right.”
“I have no more right
to you than the High Thuski did. No
man should take a woman by force.
You made a vow when you were only a
child. You are now a woman of
great beauty and intelligence and a promise made in such haste should not
have the power to dominate your life.”
Zenaria opened her mouth
for an angry retort and then two of Tren’s words sank
in.
“Beautiful?”
“Intelligent?” She
had never thought of herself as fitting either of those
words. Worst of all, the comment
completely disarmed her. Did
Tren really think of her that way?
For the first time she took a good look at where she
was.
“Where is this
place?” she asked, looking about
her. She saw that it was a small
cave, in which were a small sleeping pallet, two small cups, and a
wineskin.
“It is where I hoped
to take you had you agreed to my invitation,” Tren
said. “No one except me
knows where it is, not even Ulua.”
“You prepared this
for me?” Crude as it was,
she suddenly felt flattered. It
was hardly the sort of place a woman dreamed about for a romantic tryst,
but somehow that didn’t matter.
Her anger flowed out of her.
“I’ve been a
fool,” she thought. “I
swore to submit only to a man who could defeat me in combat and then used
my natural ability training to make myself
invincible.” Probably not
even as skilled an opponent as Tren could have beaten her in a straight up
fight. What he had done was to
find a way to remove the burden she had placed on
herself.
She took a deep breath and
turned to face him. “I will
stay,” she said. Slowly
she stepped toward him. Tren
gently placed his hand behind her neck and pulled her head down to his
level.
The kiss exploded through
her. Her knees buckled and she
swayed and would have fallen had not Tren held
her. Slowly he eased her down
to the pallet on the floor of the cave, but the kiss did not
end. Their lips parted and their
tongues entwined even as Zenaria lay back and Tren moved his body over
her.
A soft moan of pleasure
rose from deep in her throat and suddenly her body was on fire, heat suffusing
her loins, her hands clutched at Tren, trying to pull him even closer. Her
actions almost frantic.
“Gently, my
barbarian,” Tren whispered. He
moved his lips to her throat, and then kissed her eyelids, before moving
back to her lips. At the same
time his hands moved over her body touching, caressing, and stroking her
to an even higher level of passion.
She arched into him, pulling
at his loincloth and hooking her legs behind his
knees. Her breathing quickened,
becoming fevered. It seemed she
had waited for this moment all of her seventeen years even though by the
standards of her tribe she was only two or three years
late. Tren’s loincloth slipped
from his hips, helped by Zenaria’s fingers, and she pulled him toward
her, opening her legs in wanton
invitation.
Tren, however, appeared
to be in no hurry. “Slowly,
my beauty,” he murmured.
“It will be all the more enjoyable for taking our
time.” He continued to tantalize
her, moving his hands over her body, teasing her into a mounting state of
sexual excitement. She
quivered as his fingers stroked her back and his lips moved over her throat,
and then moved between her breasts, gently brushing her
nipples. The touch caused Zenaria
to gasp. She arched into him,
inviting him to take the taut rosebuds of her throbbing nipples into his
mouth. Tren, however, ignored
her, instead moving his mouth and hands lower, his hands caressing her outer
thighs and buttocks and his lips and tongue tracing an erotic path below
her breasts and over her belly.
Zenaria moaned both in passion
and frustration. Her body was
on fire and Tren seemed reluctant to quench her desire, yet his every touch
raised her to another level of sexual
excitement. Her hands clawed
at his back ripping long welts across his dark skin, and she sank her teeth
into his shoulder. Tren grunted,
and exerting surprising strength gripped her wrists and pinned her arms to
the pallet. “Alright, my
lioness; it is time.”
He entered her smoothly,
Zenaria receiving him like a well oiled sheath as his sword parted her swollen
lower lips. She cried out in
carnal desire, her body rising to receive
him. The brief moment of pain
as she lost her innocence was submerged in a rising tide of passion that
swept all other sensations before it.
She struggled to escape his grip, her smooth muscles tensing, but
Tren held her, riding her bucking body as she heaved against him in uncontrolled
passion.
For several minutes Zenaria
seemed inexhaustible, taking everything Tren could give her and then demanding
more, but slowly her strength waned, even as her passion
mounted. Something was building
inside her, something indescribably powerful and wonderful beyond anything
she had dreamed of. And then
her body convulsed and she screamed, breaking free of Tren’s grip and
using her legs and arms to pull him deep within
her.
Again and again her womb
contracted, her body gripping Tren’s shaft so tightly he gasped in
disbelief. And then finally,
she fell back temporarily exhausted, her chest
heaving. She felt completely
satiated. Never had she felt
such complete fulfillment and she wanted to do nothing more than lie back
and hold her lover.
Tren, however, was not about
to let her off quite so easily. He
pulled out of her, but now teased her nipples with his mouth and teeth, refusing
to let her state of arousal slip away.
And then his hands and mouth went lower, touching her in a way she
had never dreamed of. Within
minutes Zenaria was once again panting like a fish and then he entered her
once more, moving in and out of her in a gentle rhythm that had her whimpering
in desire. Slowly, like a pot
coming to boil, Zenaria’s passion mounted until once again her body
shuddered in sexual release. It
seemed less intense than the first time, but went on and on, slowly mounting
in intensity, until Zenaria was crying out as her body convulsed in uncontrolled
ardour. Only then did Tren release
into her, his own cry of passion blending with
hers.
They lay quietly, their
arms and legs interlocked; their sweating bodies too exhausted to
move. After awhile Zenaria
spoke. “That was
wonderful. I feel like such a
fool.”
“Yes?” said Tren
expectantly as he softly stroked her
belly.
Zenaria shifted her body
invitingly. The touch of Tren’s
fingers had her body tingling in anticipation.
“I could have had this
years ago if I had not been so headstrong.”
“Sometimes,” Tren
said, as he slowly sat up, “the gods have a way of placing us on a certain
path for a reason.”
What do you mean?”
Zenaria asked, sitting up and accepting a cup of wine as Tren poured another
for himself.
“Did it never occur
to you that your gods might have had some plan for
you? If you had not taken your
vow of celibacy you would probably not have undertaken your Spirit Quest,
in which case you would never have met me and Ulua would still be a
prisoner.”
The thought hit Zenaria
like a thunderbolt. Although
her faith in her deities was profound she had never considered that her life
might serve some higher purpose.
Perhaps her actions had not been so headstrong after
all. “You are more than
just a lover,” she said, nuzzling Tren’s
ear. “You are wise as
well.”
“I have been trying
to convince you of that since I met you,” Tren
answered. He kissed her gently,
and then a little harder; and after that the only sound was that of their
heavy breathing punctuated by their grunts of passion.
They made love twice more
before morning. In between Zenaria
chatted, telling Tren more about her homeland and her place in
it. She had no way of knowing
if it was the sort of thing that passed between lovers, but Tren seemed
interested enough in it, especially the relationship she had with
Jaree.
“As I said once
before,” he said. There
is more to you than meets the eye.
Although what meets the eye is certainly worth looking
at.”
“Is it really true
that you find me beautiful?” Zenaria asked, rolling on to one elbow
so that she could look Tren full in the
eye. “Or was that just a
ploy to get me to make love to you?”
“You are the most
spectacular beauty I have ever seen,” Tren
answered. “And I thought
so from the moment I met you.”
Zenaria was not given to
weeping, but a wave of emotion welled up within
her. She had to swallow hard
several times to maintain her composure, finally solving the problem by wrapping
her long legs around Tren’s waist and pulling him toward
her. After that time both she
and Tren were too exhausted to talk.
They slept until dawn, when a noise outside the cave awoke both of
them.
Ulua’s voice floated
through the cave entrance.
“Breakfast is ready.”
Zenaria and Tren both sat
up. “I thought you said
no one knew of this place,” Zenaria said.
“I didn’t,”
Ulua answered, poking her head around the corner, “but you two made
so much noise last night that we thought the camels had come into
season.”
“Did everyone hear?”
Zenaria asked.
“Everyone who wasn’t
deaf or dead,” Ulua replied stepping into the
cave. She seemed completely
unperturbed that both Tren and Zenaria were
nude. “I expect even the
High Thuski could hear you.”
For some reason Zenaria
found herself blushing, especially given the fact that she had left her clothing
and armour near the side of the pool and would have to appear nude when she
returned to the main cave. However,
Ulua neatly solved that problem for her.
“I have left your clothing and armour outside the cave, but I
expect after your night’s exertion you may wish to bathe
first. However, do not take too
long or your porridge will get cold.”
As Ulua left, Zenaria got
to her feet or rather she tried to.
She gasped as she discovered that there was more to the small ache
between her thighs than she had thought.
“What is it?” Tren asked, noticing her
discomfort.
“I… I’m a
little bit sore,” she answered, blushing even more furiously than she
had before.
Tren
smiled. “That is to be
expected. I too am in a little
bit of pain. The next time we
make love I think I will have you declawed.”
He turned as he spoke and
Zenaria stared in shock at the deep lacerations on his
back. “I did that?”
she gasped.
“You become somewhat
excited when you are in the throes of
passion. I will get Ulua to put
some ointment on these. They
will heal.”
Zenaria nodded dumbly, barely
able to stop her mouth from forming a huge
grin. Tren had said “next
time.” It was hard to
concentrate on anything else as she walked to the mouth of the cave, gritting
her teeth to hide her pain and trying to walk
normally.
Outside, the tunnel was
deserted. Zenaria sighed in
relief. She had half expected
all of the harem girls to be waiting for
them. Picking up her clothes
she followed Tren to the pool and took a quick
swim.
The cool water leached some
of the soreness out of her. She
emerged dripping wet and dressed without bothering to dry
herself. Even though it was early
morning the heat was already impressive and she knew she would dry
quickly. She entered the main
cave and found to her chagrin that every one of the harem girls was assembled
for her entrance. Her embarrassment
was more than evident as she turned the colour of a
beet. Her mortification was made
even more complete by the knowing grins of most of the
girls. She might have fled the
cave had it not been for
Setia.
“Welcome, Zenaria,” the girl
said. “You have now become
a woman.”
Zenaria
straightened. “Yes,”
she thought. “I suppose
I have.” She smiled and
joined the girls for breakfast.
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