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Priine was just a day away. Zelda could see its silhouette in the distance. She thought it pretty already, the round glowing paper lanterns, the streamers. The captain of the ship had let her look through his spyglass, and she had seen the colorful buildings, had listened to him tell her of the great mosaic in the square that formed a ring of color around the fountain.
Now it was night, and she couldn’t have seen much, not even with a spyglass. She stood on the dock of the Atross beside Calain, her gray cloak and hood draped over her against the cold. Calain was also wrapped in a cloak and hood, and her sword had been buckled at the hip as a result, a fact which she hated.
Together they stood facing Priine, each lost in her own thoughts. Zelda knew her knights meant to venture to Wolf Fortress, but she wondered what would happen to them afterward. Would they always be fugitives living on the run? She didn’t look forward to sleeping on the ground the rest of her life, and missed Eriallon. They hadn’t even set foot in Realm Koradara yet and already, she missed Eriallon.
“What would you have done, my lady,” asked Calain quietly, “if I had not made ill your life?”
“You did nothing of the sort!” Zelda said at once. “You did your duty, Calain. You protected me! Queen Ellanara would have forced herself upon me.”
“Would that I had cut her head off,” said Calain darkly. “Her kind are used to having whatever they desire on a whim, even people.”
There was so much loathing in Calain’s voice, Zelda asked a little fearfully, “Is that how you see me?”
“What? Of course not, my lady!”
Zelda cast her eyes down. Was she as bad as Queen Ellanara, controlling the knights with their lust, using them to sate her own? She looked up when Calain gently took her hand. Calain was looking down at her with earnest green eyes, locks of wild red hair reaching from under her hood.
“We knights please you because we wish to,” said Calain soothingly. “You have forced this enslavement upon none of us,” she added with a little smile, “Not even Gweneth, who sought to use you for her base desires without pledging herself to you first.”
“I don’t understand her,” Zelda admitted. “Most knights seek a maiden to devote themselves to, as champion and lover. Why does Gweneth oppose it so?”
“Gweneth was hurt before,” Calain answered, frowning sadly. “Since then, she believes love and duty and honor to be foolish, romantic notions. She wants none of it out of fear, not because she doesn’t care for you.”
“Gweneth cares for me? She has known me so little.”
“As have I and Selene. Like us, she is beginning to care, and it frightens her. She does not wish to lose control. But there is no control when it comes to love. Only devotion.”
Zelda was silent as she meditated on Calain’s words. So Gweneth was afraid because she had been hurt. Selene had been afraid of hurting Calain. Was there nothing Calain feared? Zelda looked up at her knight and thought with admiring blue eyes of all the times Calain had charged into battle and decided that, no, there was nothing Calain feared.
“Why that warm look in your eye?” Calain asked playfully. “I sense I shall be kissed. I shall keep still and hope.”
Zelda laughed. She rocked up on tiptoe and kissed Calain slowly on the lips. She was pulling away when Calain grabbed her about the waist and kissed her back, hungrily sliding her eager tongue deep in Zelda’s mouth. She closed two hard gauntlets over Zelda’s backside, and Zelda’s moan was smothered by the kiss.
Zelda pulled her mouth away. “Oh, Calain, not here!” she begged as Calain showered her face and neck with kisses. She did not want the sailors to watch them.
Calain let go, giving Zelda one last kiss on the cheek that made her smile. Then she stood behind Zelda and wrapped her in her arms. Zelda let her head fall back against Calain, feeling safe and content in the wall of her strong arms.
“But my lady did not answer my question,” said Calain.
“Hmm?” said Zelda, who was too busy feeling drowsy and content in Calain’s arms to think. The kisses were still lingering on her skin.
“What would you have done,” Calain said, “if not for Queen Ellanara?”
“Most sorceresses go back to their village and become the Wise Woman there. The ones from the city like me would open a shop and sell a trade, like healing or talismans. I’m quite good with potions.”
“So you would have opened a potions shop, and I would have lived with you there and guarded you . . .” Calain’s voice trailed off as she thought dreamily of that life.
Zelda thought wistfully of it, too. A cozy little shop, and she and Calain would have lived in it together, content and carefree. Now any chance of that life was gone.
Calain kissed Zelda’s head and said, “You shall have your potions shop one day, I swear it. Perhaps not in your home city of Perth, but it shall be yours, and Selene and Gweneth and I will guard it with our lives. Cassandra as well, when she returns.”
Zelda frowned sadly, her blue eyes staring anxiously at the distant silhouette of Priine. “Tell me truly, Calain,” she said, “do you regret the way things shall be? Instead of having me to yourself, you must share me with the others. Does it not bother you?”
“In truth, my lady? I was sad to part from Selene, Gweneth, and Cassandra. They are my sisters in arms, and apart from my father, they are the only family I have ever known. Now because of our devotion to you, we shall stay together always, laughing together, fighting together...” Her gauntlets wandered to Zelda’s breasts and squeezed. Zelda closed her eyes and her lips parted in a soft gasp as pleasure flushed through her. “Making love to you together,” Calain whispered huskily in her ear. She released Zelda’s breasts and hugged her close again. “What more could I ask for?” Calain whispered happily.
Content enough with that answer, Zelda closed her eyes and smiled.
***
SINCE GWENETH HAD YIELDED and come into the fold, the knights of Falcon Isle were well-behaved for the rest of their voyage to Priine. No one lost their temper and attacked anyone else, and Gweneth, now humbled and a little embarrassed, had stopped teasing and mocking Zelda, though Zelda suspected the change was only temporary.
Gweneth just couldn’t seem to help herself when it came to hurting Zelda’s feelings. Why she took such amusement from it, Zelda could not understand. Perhaps Gweneth was just mean. Or perhaps she was jealous of Zelda and Calain. The latter seemed most likely.
Whatever the case, Zelda decided to confront Gweneth about her behavior later, when they had left the ship and its leering crew behind. She hated bickering in front of the sailors, who treated the four of them as a supreme joke and enjoyed gossiping about them over card games and observing them scathingly from afar.
That three women were in the thrall of one was quite obvious to the men, no matter how Zelda struggled to hide it, and they enjoyed watching the knights fighting over her. As a result, Zelda had begged the knights to stop fighting. She hated more than anything that their drama was on display for the same men who leered and lusted after her as she passed. Such men, who hated women who loved women, viewed such bickering as proof that male and female pairings were superior – rather than full of occasional conflict and disagreements like most relationships everywhere.
Zelda and the knights shared a cabin with two bunk beds standing either side a nightstand with a washbasin. Selene and Gweneth typically slept alone, unless Zelda chose to crawl into their bed with them. Selene was always quite pleased should Zelda choose to join her, and Gweneth was surprisingly gentle and sweet, taking Zelda in her arms and going back to sleep without missing a beat. But most of the time, Zelda slept in Calain’s arms, smiling in her sleep, heart fluttering should a sleepy Calain suddenly kiss her golden hair or grope her breasts as she was dreaming.
The knights didn’t need to wear their armor aboard the ship, and in fact, the captain had cautioned them against it in the event that one of them might fall overboard. And so, Calain, Selene, and Gweneth spent weeks in tunics, trousers, and boots, the sleeves of their tunics rolled back to reveal their muscular arms. Zelda loved seeing them out of their armor, because she could clearly see their fine, hard bodies, the way their muscles flexed, the way their breasts moved behind the cloth of their linen bras.
It was also easier to access their bodies. Once when Selene was sitting up on her bed, lacing up her boot, Zelda sat up behind her, slid her little hand down the front of Selene’s pants, and fingered her. She had never fingered a woman before, though she had thought of it often since knowing Calain’s hungry touch. She slid her hands down the front of Selene’s smallclothes and could feel her soft, warm sex, how the lips yielded to her touch, soft as petals. She thought it curious that a woman as hard and strong as Selene could have a part of her that was so soft and delicate and vulnerable.
Selene seemed shocked at first, then happily resigned to Zelda’s touching, if not pleasantly surprised. She stopped trying to lace her boot and simply sat, her knees apart, biting her lips as Zelda’s clumsy hand touched her. Zelda’s exploring fingers found Selene’s fat little clitoris, and Selene’s entire body tightened when Zelda caressed it gently.
Zelda stopped in alarm. “Oh! Did I hurt you?”
“No,” said Selene hoarsely. “Quite the opposite. My lady . . . Touch me again . . .”
Zelda’s heart leapt. She sat up on her knees, looked over Selene’s shoulder, and undid her belt and pants. Once Selene’s trousers were sagging open, Zelda held her smallclothes away from her belly and could see her sex more clearly. It was wreathed in a swath of dark, curly hair. The smell of Selene’s pubic hair was sweet, a mixture of flowery-scented soap, salty sweat, and leather. But the knights always smelled like sweat and leather. The scent was something that had begun to arouse Zelda.
Biting her lip, cheeks flaming as arousal swept through her, Zelda split Selene’s soft pubic hair with two fingers, revealing the fat lips of her dark sex. Selene’s nipples were dark as well. Zelda often thought of the woman as her “raven beauty,” so dark and powerful and yet stunning.
Zelda gently turned Selene’s face to hers and kissed her, and as she did, she found Selene’s little clitoris again and gently caressed it, until Selene’s cheeks were flushed and her clitoris was throbbing in Zelda’s grasp, gently rolled back and forth between two fingers. Selene moaned something unintelligible behind their kiss, but Zelda was hardly listening, for her own sex was swelling with arousal in her panties. She slid her fingers inside the hot sheath of Selene’s sex and began to stroke, and Selene gasped, her lips trembling against Zelda’s.
“Oh . . . Oh, my l-lady . . .” Selene whispered, blushing more brightly as Zelda’s careful fingers sank deeper through her moisture. Selene’s muscular arms were tight and trembling as she wrestled with the intensity of her pleasure, and it occurred to Zelda for the first time that Selene had never been touched by a woman before. Zelda was the first.
“My lady . . .” Selene whispered helplessly. She cupped Zelda’s cheek. “Oh, Zelda . . .” And she kissed Zelda hard, thrusting her tongue in her mouth.
Zelda kissed Selene back almost desperately, her mind feverish now with the thought of going down on her. With sudden hunger, Zelda’s fingers became rougher, harder, curling so that Selene’s hips were moving with them. Selene pulled her mouth free and panted as her hips jerked in little spurts, licks of black hair tumbling in her hooded eyes, sweet lips gasping, brows frowning in baffled ecstasy. Zelda looked at her with narrowed-eyed lust, enjoying how helplessly aroused she was, how deliciously wet her sex, and because of Zelda! Zelda’s touch had done this, had rendered this strong, powerful woman to shivering, gasping, and begging.
Zelda fingered Selene until the knight was so moist, she was gushing over Zelda’s fingers. Then her muscular body tightened as she climaxed. Baffled, trembling with pleasure, Selene reached blindly for Zelda’s face, cupped her cheek, and kissed her again as the moisture of her sex gushed hot over Zelda’s fingers.
***
AFTER SUCCESSFULLY bringing Selene to a climax, Zelda made it up in her mind that she was going to do the same to the others: pounce them one by one when they were least expecting it and make wild and desperate love to them, until they had gushed over her fingers! Unfortunately for her, the knights were on to her before she could surprise the other two. Calain, Selene, and Gweneth shared everything, even their sex lives, and so, it was only natural that Selene would have told the others what Zelda had done to her so aggressively and hungrily.
So, when Zelda tried to surprise Gweneth in her bed one evening, she was pinned to the bed instead. She squealed with laughter when Gweneth, blue eyes twinkling, pinned her wrists above her head and kissed her neck again and again, slowly.
“How . . . How did you know?” pouted Zelda, breathless with giggles.
“Did you think Selene wouldn’t tell us?” said Gweneth, amused. “She said you fucked her like a mad woman, fingered her so hard, you tore her smallclothes.”
Zelda blushed.
“She was quite beside herself about it,” Calain added. She paused to unlace the front of Zelda’s gown very carefully with her teeth. As the gown sagged down, Zelda’s large breasts were exposed, standing plump and rigid with small pink nipples. Gweneth slowly sucked one, letting go gently, so that Zelda’s large breast wobbled as it was released. Zelda melted from the pleasure.
“What did you think to do to me?” Gweneth whispered huskily and swirled her tongue over Zelda’s ever-hardening nipple.
“F-Finger you,” Zelda admitted, breathless with arousal and blushing with the confession.
Gweneth laughed softly. “You’re so cute. You little vixen.” She rubbed her nose against Zelda’s and smiled into her eyes with twinkling eyes.
Zelda surprised them both when she suddenly kissed Gweneth on the mouth. “Why can’t you be sweet like this all the time?” she whispered, letting her head drop again into the mass of her long golden curls.
“Sweetness isn’t my nature,” answered Gweneth with a laugh. “You may as well ask a viper to stop biting.”
“You can be sweet when you want to be,” Zelda insisted.
“Maybe I don’t want to be,” said Gweneth, who wasn’t really listening to Zelda anymore but staring at her large breasts. She sucked slowly on the other one, and Zelda trembled. Then Gweneth’s kisses traveled down. She released one of Zelda’s wrists to reach down for her panties, and Zelda took her chance: she wiggled free, rolling on top of Gweneth and pinning her to the bed in her place.
Gweneth laughed lightly as she lay under Zelda, who was now sitting astride her lap, looking down at her mischievously. Her small hands were pinning Gweneth’s wrists above her head, a position which caused her big breasts to hang near Gweneth’s face. Gweneth lifted her head and gave one of Zelda’s swinging breasts another slow, delicious suck. Zelda trembled and blushed.
“G-Gweneth. . . .”
Gweneth laughed softly. “Even when you have dominated me, you yield as soon as my mouth touches you.”
Zelda scowled.
“Do not be angry, my lady,” laughed Gweneth. “I surrender. I am yours to toy with.” She gave her hips a playful little thrust, making Zelda bounce suddenly on top of her and her heavy breasts jiggle.
“Oh!” Zelda cried as she was bounced and blushed again. “You’re impossible!”
“You’re beautiful,” Gweneth whispered seriously.
Zelda’s heart thumped at the look in Gweneth’s eyes: she looked as if she wanted to devour Zelda. It was a look Calain and Selene had given her when they were aroused and wanting her, but coming from Gweneth, it always made her squirm – squirm in a way she both loved and hated. Even sitting on top of Gweneth, she was not truly in control and she knew it. Gweneth hadn’t really yielded to her. Perhaps she never would.
Feeling annoyed and defeated, Zelda released Gweneth and turned away, leaning forward on her knees and preparing to rise from the bed. She squealed in surprise when Gweneth grabbed her by the hips and drew her backside to her face. She thought for one moment that Gweneth would kiss her backside, but instead, she pushed Zelda’s skirts up, yanked down her panties, and buried her face in Zelda’s soft sex.
Kneeling with her back her to Gweneth, her legs trapped in the hook of Gweneth’s strong arms, Zelda gasped as the big woman’s tongue slid deep in her sex, plunging between her lips and pausing to caress and suck them, then sliding deep inside her again. Her cheeks flushed from the pleasure and she could not stifle her cries of delight.
Gweneth smoothed a hungry hand up Zelda’s narrow waist, and as she was licking and sucking her sex, she groped one of Zelda’s breasts until her back was spasming, trying to hold still against the pleasure. Zelda’s thighs trembled. Gweneth was tasting her with a slow skill that was driving her mad. She would scream. She would scream and scream and the sailors would hear! Goddess, no, that would be terrible! So she bit her lip and trembled all over as Gweneth’s careful tongue worked her to an orgasm, and when she finally climaxed, it was with a violent shudder and a muffled cry.
***
ZELDA DIDN’T BOTHER trying to surprise Calain. Like Gweneth, Selene had already told her what Zelda had done, and now there was no doubt Gweneth had told the others how Zelda had sat on her face, biting her lip to stifle her screams as Gweneth tormented her with lips and tongue.
And indeed, one night, as the others were sleeping in their bunks and Zelda and Calain were lying together in bed, Calain teased Zelda about her playful pouncing of the others and asked why she had not been pounced.
“Because the surprise is ruined!” whispered Zelda, who was lying in Calain’s arm, her cheek on Calain’s shoulder. She had to admit she felt cheated. Calain was the one she wanted to surprise most of all.
“What would you have done to me,” Calain whispered, “if you had surprised me first?”
Zelda blushed a little as she thought of it. “I would have thrown you on the bed, peeled you out of your tunic . . .”
“Yes . . .?”
“Suckled your breasts . . .”
“My lady!” gasped Calain in mock horror and laughed. “My, but you are naughty!”
Zelda laughed as well. “I wasn’t finished! I would have fingered you and gone down on you . . . Tasted the sweet lips of your sex . . .”
“What if you did those things,” said Calain, “and I pretended to be surprised?”
“It’s not the same,” Zelda insisted, pouting.
Calain laughed again. “I’m sorry we ruined your fun. My lady may have her way with me any time she pleases.”
Zelda smiled.
“My lady wanted to . . . taste me?”
“Y-Yes,” Zelda admitted, blushing. “I’ve seen the way your sex looks when you are bathing. It’s all wreathed in red hair, and the lips are so pink and plump . . . I want to suck them.”
“My lady watches me bathe?” said Calain, amused. She smoothed a big hand up Zelda’s slender back and down her long golden hair, listening.
“Y-Yes,” Zelda admitted. “Why wouldn’t I watch? You’re so beautiful and strong. Sometimes I can’t believe you’re my knight.” She climbed up on top of Calain and looked down in her face. “I love you, Calain. You know that, don’t you?”
Calian’s green eyes softened. She reached up and touched Zelda’s face with a tender hand. “And I love you, Zelda. I have loved you since I first laid eyes on you.”
“Truly?”
Calain smiled, remembering. “You were sitting in the stands in that blue gown. You were so nervous, but you were the fairest maiden there. No wonder the queen wanted you. I sometimes think that if I had the power, I’d have taken you for myself as well.”
“No, you wouldn’t!” Zelda said at once. “You’re kind and good and brave. You’re nothing like the queen!”
“I don’t know how good I am,” Calain said, frowning, “but I will be kind and good and brave and anything you ask of me, so much as I am able. I will always be true.”
Calain looked so earnest that something in Zelda melted and she leaned down and kissed her.
“Your breasts,” Calain whispered, lips brushing Zelda’s, “feel so good against me, my lady. They’re so soft and warm and heavy . . .” She reached between them and pulled Zelda’s laces free, so that her breasts poured out and rested with swelling cleavage on top of Calain’s. Calain stared at them hungrily a moment, then kissed Zelda suddenly on the mouth, thrusting her tongue deep inside, so that Zelda’s lashes fluttered as her backside was squeezed.
***
PRIINE WAS AS WONDERFUL in person as it had seemed through the captain’s spyglass. The city was so colorful and bursting with flowers, it seemed an eternal festival was happening. Jesters juggled in the streets, men walked on stilts, people wore colorful animal masks, women shook tambourines (and their breasts), and children ran, tossing confetti and blowing soap bubbles.
It was a lively place full of color and laughter. But it was a little too lively for a prolonged stay, Zelda thought. Already, she missed the quiet of Vira’Toss Tower and would be happy when they had moved on.
At least the threat of the Rose Guard was less likely here. Priine was in Realm Koradara, a land across the sea from Eriallon, and belonged to the good queen, Queen Carys. The Rose Guard would have to spend weeks on a ship to reach them, and even then, Queen Carys would not take kindly to their presence in her realm. They were all but safe outside of Eriallon. All but Cassandra.
They rented a room at an inn, and then the waiting began. Naturally, none of the knights were in the mood to make love, worried as they were for Cassandra, and Zelda respected their feelings, giving then space to worry and grieve, and comforting them when they needed it.
On the eighth day, Selene went down in the morning to check the horses, and Gweneth, who was so bored she was starting to go mad, went with her, leaving Calain alone in the room they shared with Zelda.
It was a large enough room, with a double bed against the wall, three arched windows, a nightstand with a washbasin, a fire, and a few sitting chairs with a small table. They had left their traveling satchels in a pile on the floor in the corner, and their cloaks had been tossed in another pile across a chair.
Zelda washed her face at the washbasin, as behind her, Calain slouched wretchedly in one of the chairs, knees wide, her red hair a mess. Zelda had never seen her so distraught. She came up behind Calain and massaged her shoulders. Calain briefly put a grateful hand over Zelda’s hand, then Zelda continued massaging. Before long, Calain had dozed off.
It had only been eight days, but the three knights seemed to be falling apart at the seams. Calain, for instance, hadn’t slept in three days, while Gweneth had become somber and moody, and Selene was hardly eating. Zelda kept reminding them that a ship from Arinol to Priine could take up to three weeks, but far from comforting them, this seemed to only upset them more.
As Calain was dozing, Zelda donned her cloak and left the bedroom, quietly closing the door behind her. It was morning, but already, the people of Priine were singing in the streets and playing instruments. She could hear a flute downstairs in the tavern.
Zelda thought she would sit outside on the step and observe the crowds and their antics. To her surprise, Gweneth was already sitting there. The inn steps had been painted a bright, festive red, while the door was a warm green, and orange flowers were bursting from the clay pots that stood near the bottom step.
Zelda thought the riot of color in the city made Gweneth seem plainer than she really was, with her brown hair and blue eyes that were almost dark as the evening sea. Gweneth also wasn’t wearing her armor, and her tunic and trousers were of plain, neutral colors: a gray tunic and brown trousers with boots of a darker brown. The sleeves of her tunic were rolled back to reveal her bulging arms, and she was carving a chunk of wood with a knife.
Fascinated by Gweneth’s skill, Zelda sat on the step beside her and watched for a while. She loved the way Gweneth’s strong hands and arms and even the flesh of her collarbone flexed as she carved. The misshapen chunk of wood was slowly taking the shape of a beautiful woman with long hair. The woman was standing straight and proud with one hand out to cast a spell. Zelda realized with a slight blush that the wooden woman was her likeness.
“Where is Selene?” Zelda asked, hugging her knees. “Is she in the stable still?”
“No,” answered Gweneth, eyes on her work. “She went to market for something in other.”
“A potion to test if I’ve impregnated her?” Zelda joked.
Gweneth’s once somber mouth curled in a half-smile at the joke, but the smile went away in another second, and she said with a frown, “We are sterile, my lady.”
Zelda looked at her in surprise. “Truly? All the Falcon Knights?”
“Aye,” said Gweneth. “Makes sense, does it not? They’d want to control how many of us there are. Can’t have supernaturally strong women roaming the countryside, spawning. That sort of thing terrifies the men, you see.”
And so it should, thought Zelda in amusement.
“There’s a tribe of Wilde Women to the west of here,” went on Gweneth. “They scare the shite out of the local men. Very big, very strong women. Naturally born like that, no magick potions. They steal men and use them to make their children.”
“Truly? Or are you having me on?” said Zelda suspiciously.
“I speak truly. The Wilde Women aren’t as strong as we Knights of Falcon, but they are strong enough to strike terror in the hearts of men. And no one could ever close the womb of one.” Gweneth glanced curiously at Zelda. “Are sorceresses not sterile, my lady?”
Zelda lifted her brows. “Why would we be? Magick isn’t handed down by blood. Tis learned. Natural mages are very rare.”
“Makes sense,” said Gweneth thoughtfully. She went on carving, her eyes on her work. “So if you let some other knight get you with child, I shall know it isn’t mine.”
Zelda laughed. “No man shall touch me. I do not fancy men.”
“Didn’t say it had to be a man,” said Gweneth. “I have been all over the realms, seen some outlandish things: mystical pregnancies between two women . . . Talking beasts . . . A well that granted wishes . . .”
“Did you make a wish?”
“Aye.”
“What did you wish for?” Zelda asked almost eagerly.
“If I tell you, it won’t come true,” Gweneth said with a wink. But her jovial mood dropped away yet again and she said quietly, “Selene thinks we should head to Wolf Fortress if Cassandra has not arrived in another day.”
Zelda frowned. “But how could she arrive here so quickly? It took us nearly three weeks!”
“There are other ways to travel aside from ships, faster ways. Cariel’s Cross, the elven ruin that brought you to Arinol so quickly, is one.”
“I have read of portals,” said Zelda thoughtfully, “but tis strange to think of anyone but a sorceress using one.”
Gweneth scoffed. “Of course, tis strange to you if you believe mages alone have power in this world.”
“Why did we not take a portal then?” demanded Zelda irritably.
“The steeds, for one,” answered Gweneth. “They do not sit well with magick and would not cross through without much coaxing. Cassandra is alone without her steed. It should be easy for her to arrive here quickly.”
“We should have left you behind and brought Cassandra,” said Zelda, feeling cross. Gweneth was always teasing and mocking her, as if she were a silly little girl who knew nothing of the world. She hated it because Gweneth was probably right.
“Do you truly wish it so?” asked Gweneth, amused.
“Truly!” Zelda snapped. “I bet Cassandra is nicer! And a better lover as well –” The word was cut off in her throat when Gweneth kissed her. She went still. The knight had never kissed her like this before, with a gentle sweetness that made her heart flutter.
As their lips caressed, Zelda felt Gweneth press the little carving in her hand. Then she pulled back, smiling. “That shut you up quick,” she teased, and Zelda blushed furiously: she couldn’t deny that Gweneth was a good kisser.
Gweneth winked and went back inside the inn.
Zelda looked at the carving in her hand. Gweneth had given her likeness a sweet, heart-shaped face and long hair that was blowing back. Her waist was tiny and her hips round and her breasts high, and she stood in a pose of dignity, strength, and power . . . The carving was how Gweneth saw Zelda.
***
LATER THAT NIGHT, ZELDA found herself in bed with the three knights as they slept around her. All of them were so miserable, she had offered to take the first watch. And so, they slept around her in their smallclothes while she sat upright among them, fully dressed.
Calain slept on Zelda’s right. She was on her side, breathing gently, one muscular arm draped almost possessively over Zelda’s leg. Selene was on Zelda’s left, using her thigh for a pillow. The two of them looked almost as innocent as children as they slept, big and powerful as they were. Zelda smiled and touched their hair. Then her eyes went to Gweneth, who was sleeping on the other side of Calain. She was on her back, and her undercut brown hair was loose of its usual bun, so that the curls fell in her eyes as she dreamt.
Zelda was tempted to pull Gweneth closer with her mind. She wanted all three knights within her reach, the better to observe their powerful bodies as they dreamt. She also thought disturbing Gweneth would be a fun way to get back at her for the morning's teasing. She was just thinking of lifting the woman with her mind when a disturbance outside drew her attention.
Prying herself carefully from the sleepy grasp of Calain and Selene, Zelda rose from the bed and went to the window. She looked out and gasped:
Cassandra was down in the dark street, fighting off three Rose Guard knights in their golden armor. The sound of blades clashing was growing almost desperate as they backed Cassandra against the wall. She was tired and making mistakes, while the Rose Guard knights were fast and strong.
There was no time to wake the others. Zelda grabbed her stave and ran down to help. Outside, moonlight pooled over the scene, glowing upon Cassandra’s pale hair. Zelda ran forward to cast a spell and felt the draining sensation plunge over her like ice water: the Rose Guards had a Bane Stone.
Trembling, Zelda staggered to her knees. It was a powerful Bane Stone, more powerful than the trifling one the bandits had used.
“Ha! I knew her sorceress bitch would come running,” laughed one of the Rose Guard knights, a giant bull of a man with mean little eyes.
There were only two Rose Guard knights left, for Cassandra had slain the third as Zelda was coming down the stairs.
“Get the mage bitch,” said the giant knight. “I’ll take care of the bird knight.”
The second knight, a stout man, moved toward Zelda where she knelt gasping in the street. That seemed to set Cassandra into furious action. Without warning, she brought her sword around and sliced the bigger man’s neck open. He went staggering back, screaming and spurting blood, before falling over on his back, where he lay gurgling as he choked on his own blood.
Seeing that both his companions were now dead, the last knight made a wild swing with his blade at Zelda, as if desperate to slay her before Cassandra could stop him. He failed. Cassandra lunged between them, parried with her blade, then roughly shoved him back. Before he had regained his footing, Cassandra had cut off his head. More blood spattered.
Glancing around in an almost paranoid fashion, Cassandra grabbed Zelda by the arm, pulled her to her feet, and backed her into the wall, so that they were standing face to face and hidden in shadow. Then they just stood there, facing each other, waiting.
They were so close, they could have kissed, and Zelda looked up into Cassandra’s tense face and realized for the first time how startlingly pretty her gray eyes were, how the moonlight caught them and made them glow with flecks of light. She was also painfully aware of the knight’s tight, muscular body heaving breathlessly beneath her armor. Some wild, mad part of her wanted Cassandra to pin her to the wall and kiss her. But Casandra wasn’t paying attention to Zelda. The knight’s serious gray eyes were narrowed. She was listening, her hand on the sword at her hip.
Zelda looked up at Cassandra’s tense face and wondered what they were waiting for. She had almost asked when Cassandra mouthed, “Hush!” and she closed her mouth again.
Another minute passed, and then the answer to Zelda’s unspoken question appeared: two Rose Guard knights rode into the moonlight. One was a man, the other a woman. They halted and dismounted when they saw their dead comrades in the street and looked around, their eyes scanning. For some strange reason, their eyes did not seem to register Zelda and Cassandra as they stood against the wall in the shadows. Instead, their eyes passed right over them, and they turned, mounted their horses, and rode sway.
Cassandra took a shaking breath when they had gone, and Zelda suddenly realized the knight’s gauntlet was holding tightly to her hip. Cassandra’s hand relaxed. She released Zelda and backed away. As Zelda watched, she went to the Bane Stone, which was glowing on the ground, and smashed it with her sword. Immediately, Zelda felt the heavy feeling of being drained lift away.
“You cast a cloaking spell!” Zelda realized. She went to Cassandra, who was standing there panting as if she would fall over.
“Yes,” Cassandra managed hoarsely.
“But how?” Zelda asked in amazement. “And why didn’t you just finish them off with your sword...?” The words died on her lips when she noticed the blood dripping from Cassandra’s gauntlet.
“Oh, no,” said Zelda. “Let me see.”
“Tis the arm, my lady, not the hand,” panted Cassandra when Zelda went for her gauntlet.
Zelda reached for the buckle of the arm plate and saw the plate fall away to reveal Cassandra’s slashed arm and torn linen bra, which was just torn enough to reveal the side of her breast. Ignoring the bare curve of the woman’s breast with difficulty, Zelda placed her hand over the arm wound. Her eyes glowed briefly, and the bleeding wound sealed itself.
“Thank . . . Thank you, my lady,” Cassandra panted. “Now . . . Let us rouse the others and leave this place.”