The Gauntlet Thrown

A Lord Bent’s Manor story.

 

 

Episode two: The Gauntlet Thrown

 

 

115,677 words

© Commissum, 2025 - original publish date of first edition.

      

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

First edition - version 1.0

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Disclaimer: This is a work of erotic fiction. The story depicts an alternative invented reality and timeline. All incidents and dialogue, and all characters are products of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. None of the events depicted in the story are actual events. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Warning: This work contains explicit depictions of a sexual nature, along with strong language. Various ‘triggering’ incidents are described, including rape, slavery, interspecies sexual contact and others. If happenings of this nature offend you, don’t read this book. Consider yourself warned.

 

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Acknowledgements: Special thanks to my early proof readers. Their help in finding errors and other issues is greatly appreciated.

Constructive feedback and comments are always welcome. Thank you, Commissum.

 

Map:

Cursed Island and the surrounding area:

Introduction:

 

A recent entry from the personal journal of Miranda Carlson, Lord Bentencourt’s head-of-household.

Journal entry - 4th day before the spring equinox, year 401 of the Second Dramsha

 

An account of the “Fire and Ice Incident”: Lord Bentencourt’s recent journey to deliver a pupadominus seed to his usual buyer, Sala.

Lord Bent’s most recent sales trip to deliver a pupadominus seed to his usual buyer, the Mohennial Sala, was, while ultimately successful, fraught with many perils. The events of the almost-debacle began thirteen days ago with Lord Bent’s return through the portal from Earth. He brought with him two captives. The first, his original target and intended recipient of the ripe pupadominus seed, was a young, methamphetamine-addicted woman named Taylor. The second captive, a tall, slender African-American male, now renamed Reed, was unexpected. Reed, who had apparently been Taylor’s pimp back on Earth, had interfered with Lord Bent’s retrieval of the woman. Instead of killing Reed on Earth, Lord Bent brought him to Kreven, intending to process him for eventual sale as a slave.

Arriving at night, Lord Bent used pupadominus venom to subdue Taylor and to partially wipe the mind of Reed. Lord Bent was assisted with the processing and preparation of the captives by his pregnant mountain troll slave, Klup, and his half-dark-elf female former ward, Tevi. During the processing, Tevi observed that Reed possessed genitalia with the capability to fit the unique racial reproductive requirements of the dark elf species, which, therefore, might allow her to become successfully impregnated. With this reproductive purpose in mind, it was decided to keep Reed on the island instead of selling him. The next morning, Lord Bent supervised the implantation of the ripe pupadominus seed into Taylor’s womb, which occurred without complication.

The following day, Taylor, Lord Bent, and his villein Hamm’s son, Stren, began the two-day journey to the western slopes of the Sunset Mountain Range, and then on to the foothills of Rumble Mountain, a semi-active volcano and the location of The Vent, Mohennial Sala’s fortress keep.

Midday on the first day of the journey, Lord Bent’s party reached Priam’s Cove and arranged carriage travel through his usual factor, Berg. Because Stren was traveling with Lord Bent, Berg negotiated the substitution of his second driver for Stren; thus, the young man joined Torl, Berg’s main coachman, on the driver’s bench. That evening, their carriage reached the planned overnight stop at the Stoney Brook, an inn, jointly owned by Lord Bent and Henrietta Anthony Garland, known as Lady HAG, or simply Henri.

While staying at the inn, Lord Bent verified that Henri’s daughter, Bemilda, had developed a strong magical talent. It was arranged that, upon the carriage’s return, Bemi would be joining Lord Bent’s party to travel to his island and live there as his apprentice to receive magical training. It was also decided that Stren would stay at the inn and become an apprentice at a nearby smithy operated by Master Loral. In place of Stren, Henri loaned her stableman, Carth, to travel with the party when it departed the inn the next morning to begin the ascent up the switchbacks of Hale Pass.

Later, during the western descent from the pass, the party suffered two mishaps. The first was that Taylor’s seed became dangerously active inside the woman after Lord Bent was forced to perform a magical shielding spell on her in an attempt to hide her from Harkon, an Order battle wizard, discovered to be hunting in the area. The second mishap was stumbling into an ongoing battle between Harkon and a large cryo-dragon. The party barely survived the encounter when the battle wizard and the dragon took their battle elsewhere.

That night, with Taylor in great pain and near death from the actively regrowing seed, the party arrived at The Vent. Lord Bent informed Sala of the battle between Harkon and the cryo-dragon, and then convinced the Mohennial to save Taylor’s life while extracting the pupadominus seed. Mistress Sala revealed to Lord Bent the existence of fire crystals, and of her practice of using pupadominus plant venom to harvest the crystals from samandall, small, magical, and virtually immortal lizards that dwelled in the active lava chambers beneath The Vent.

Because of the trust shown him by the Mohennial in revealing the crystals, Lord Bent shared his own secret process of successfully cultivating pupadominus plants by grafting mundane Earthly rootstock in place of the plant’s motile root-legs. Sala then commissioned Lord Bent to be her greenhouse master, with duties of periodically pruning and caring for her crop of pupadominus plants. He was also to use his secret grafting procedure to increase the longevity of Sala’s crop. The party guested at The Vent an extra day while Taylor recovered. During this time, they witnessed the Mohennial performing one of her duties for the Order by processing new criminals for punishment or execution.

Before Lord Bent’s departure, Sala conferred to him a powerful and very secret fire crystal gun weapon she had procured the previous night from an Order weapons vault. Lord Bent was to use the weapon to defend himself from the cryo-dragon while crossing the pass, and then, assuming he survived, was to deliver it to Harkon, who was currently recovering at the Stoney Brook Inn. The return crossing of Hale Pass went without incident, and upon arriving at the inn late that afternoon, Lord Bent saved Henri’s life by preventing Harkon from sacrificing the woman by draining all her life force to assist in his own recovery. Harkon declined to simply accept the fire crystal weapon from Lord Bent and instead forced him to carry it while accompanying the battle wizard in flying off to slay the injured cryo-dragon currently succoring itself on a nearby peak.

The attack went poorly, as Harkon was almost immediately killed when he tripped a freeze trap set by the dragon. Lord Bent then killed the dragon himself using the fire crystal gun and utilized a talk-stone recovered from Harkon’s corpse to summon help from the Mohennial. While he waited for rescue, Lord Bent discovered inside the dragon’s lair the presence of two living dragon eggs, and retrieved for himself a small ice crystal from the dead dragon infant carcass discovered near the shattered remains of a third egg.

Mohennial Sala arrived, claimed the two surviving eggs, immediately sent them back to The Vent via portal, and then set her two troll bodyguard slaves to butchering the dead ice dragon’s corpse and extracting its large ice crystal for her use. Sala then used her targetable portal to return Lord Bent to the Stoney Brook Inn. The next morning, Lord Bent, Bemi, and Taylor returned to Cursed Island after stopping briefly in Priam’s Cove to commission a guild musical tutor to periodically travel to his island to teach Bemi music.

A day after returning to the island, Lord Bent and Taylor used the portal to travel to Earth, where, after traveling by his airplane to Bay City, Taylor was left in a motel to be reunited with her estranged brother. Lord Bent had provided funds for Taylor to attend college there with the hope of her working for one of his Earthly companies upon graduating. After this, Lord Bent completed other minor tasks on Earth before returning via portal to Kreven, upon which he received a notice and summons from Mohennial Sala regarding the disposition of the two living dragon eggs.

Part 1

Chapter One:

 

“Peter, the dragon you killed was a male. I will arrive at noon the day after you read this. In an attempt to stave off disaster, together, we travel to return the two living eggs to their mother. Mohennial Sala.”

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Lord Bentencourt’s Manor

Cursed Island, Mirror Lake, Kreven

3rd day before spring equinox

 

It was the following morning after Lord Bentencourt’s return from his most recent trip to Earth. After a quick, utilitarian breakfast during which he’d barely noticed his food, Peter now sat in his study, attempting to use office work to distract himself from the worrying message he’d received from Mohennial Sala the night before.

The office work consisted of reviewing the ledgers and journal entries maintained by his executive officer, Miranda Carlson. The twenty-eight-year-old woman was also in his study, busy at her own nearby work table tallying the list of items he’d requested be made ready for today’s pending excursion with Sala. Peter looked up from the ledger to find Miranda staring at him, a look of concern etched across her face. His executive officer also looked exhausted, likely not having slept a wink last night due to the same worries he felt. He raised his eyebrows in question.

“Milord,” Miranda asked carefully, “What if you were to use the portal and flee to Earth instead of going to confront dragons with Mohennial Sala?”

“Mohennial Sala is able to travel to Earth, Miranda,” he replied, “and far more easily than I. She’d be able to track me down there eventually. And even if I somehow managed to evade her, I fear what she would do to all of you remaining on Kreven. You know I’m not strong enough to portal-transport all of you to Earth with me in the time we have before her arrival. Besides, Tevi and Klup have too much Kreven magic invested in their bodies to survive even a few minutes on Earth.”

“I realize that, Milord,” she argued carefully, “but if you escaped to Earth, those of us left behind could flee the island and go to live elsewhere. Surely Mistress Sala cannot be aware of all your holdings! We could use the boats and head east across Mirror Lake and into the Ryzeelund. You could cast shielding spells on us before you left. The island manor house could always be rebuilt later. Also, there is a chance that when the Mohennial confronts the dragons without you, she might not survive.”

“I doubt that would happen,” Peter replied, “but even if she were killed, Sala most assuredly has plans in place to be quickly resurrected. And once she is restored, I have no doubt she would seek vengeance upon those who abandoned her in her time of need, and do so with a fervor—starting with me, of course.”

He paused for a moment before continuing. “No, I fear that I will have to see this dragon business through, come fortune or folly.”

Peter and Miranda’s somber discussion was interrupted by two women entering the study. The older of the pair, Peter’s housekeeper, Bella, led the way and was smiling proudly while gesturing towards her companion. The second woman, his young new apprentice, Bemilda Garland, was carrying a heavy, hooded leather cloak. Peter could not help but smile as he took in the older teenager’s comely figure and shining blonde hair.

“Milord,” Bella explained, “we have altered your war cloak as you have instructed.”

Bemilda, or Bemi, for short, stepped forward and presented the cloak to Peter. He took the heavy garment and laid it open on the large meeting table opposite his desk. First, he inspected the new warded patches he’d instructed be added to the exterior. These areas of padded, heavy leather should better protect his vitals from the front, sides, and back of the cloak. He then opened the cloak to inspect the two new pockets he’d requested be added to the inside lining.

One of the new pockets was positioned over his right breast and was sized to hold the fire crystal amulet the Mohennial had recently given him. The other new pocket, which was over his left breast, was much smaller, being just the size of a grape. Both pockets had been securely attached by heavy, reinforced stitching and each had flap covers which could be sealed shut by three closely-spaced buttons.

“These look good!” he commented. “Did you have any trouble sewing the reinforced leather?”

“The lass did the work, Milord,” Bella explained. “Her young fingers are much stronger and nimbler than my own.”

This was likely due to Bemi’s skill with the fiddle. The older teen had spent much of the last eight years working hard in her mother’s inn. She also regularly provided the evening’s entertainment in the great room, singing, dancing, and playing the fiddle. The effort showed in her toned arms visible below the short sleeves of her work dress.

Peter pulled on the heavy cloak and started cinching shut its many belts and buckles. Miranda rose to assist him, pulling the lowest two straps tight. Once it was fitted, Peter almost felt armored in the heavy leather covering. He pulled up the hood and also cinched tight the neck cord. With it closed, only a small portion of his face remained visible.

“The leather’s stiff from disuse, but not too bad,” he commented, moving around and bending. When he squatted, the long cloak reached the ground, concealing his legs and most of his feet. Peter had sized it this way on purpose as his best concealment spells would be cast on the cloak and not himself. He stood again and motioned for his executive officer to begin unbuckling the cinches.

“Good … well done, ladies. Thank you!” he announced. “Please fetch my blackened boots, leather leggings, and gloves.”

Peter waited until the two had departed the study before going to his hidden lockbox. He released the guard wards while bypassing the trapped latch. Inside the small compartment was an assortment of his most powerful potions and items. He began removing certain potion vials and handing them to Miranda, who began sliding them into the appropriate pockets inside the cloak.

Finally, he removed the warded sack which contained the tiny frost crystal he’d recently retrieved from the dead cryo-dragon hatchling. He remembered to incant the spell which would protect him from the effects of touching the crystal and extracted the small gem.

Holding the blue sphere up to the light for a moment, he felt his hand warming while the gem became magically colder, maintaining its near cryogenic temperature. He also felt the excess magic emanating from the tiny crystal and how the spell he’d cast on himself allowed his body to siphon that excess while simultaneously protecting his fingers from the intense cold.

With his free hand, he fingered the new smaller pocket and cast a similar spell onto the leather material itself. He then tucked the small orb into the pocket and fastened the closure flap. Once the gem was in place, he carefully probed the leather around it, ensuring that the spell was protecting the garment from localized freezing. It seemed to be working, as if anything, the leather now felt slightly warmer than room temperature. Good!

Next, he withdrew his fire-crystal amulet from where it hung around his neck. He then carefully wrapped the chain around the perimeter of the amulet before tucking the medallion into the cloak’s new right breast pocket. Conversely, the leather over this pocket felt cooler as the fire crystal drew in nearby heat, storing some and converting the rest to magic.

Peter finally cast a new ward spell that merged the effects of both crystals, feeling the balance forming between the two. The cloak, and hopefully its wearer, were now protected from extremes of both heat and cold. The cloak tingled in his fingers as the magic potential being released by both crystals soaked into the leather.

“Why don’t you keep wearing the Mohennial’s amulet around your neck?” his XO asked.

“Two reasons,” he explained. “The first is that I’ve warded the cloak to allow the two opposing crystals to coexist in close proximity, almost feeding off one another. Second, if the cryo-dragons can sense the magic emitted by fire crystals, or more likely, the frost gem, I want to be able to quickly rid myself of both by taking off the garment. In that case, the cloak might provide a useful distraction.”

“Well, with all those buckles,” Miranda replied with a gesture, “you won’t be shedding it quickly.”

“That’s true,” Peter admitted. “Hopefully, I’ll know early on and have plenty of warning before having to rid myself of the garment.”

He donned the heavy coat a second time and again strapped the cinches tight. “Well, let’s test how the new crystals work in close proximity along with the cloak’s concealment ward.”

Again, his assistant had to help with the hard-to-cinch lower strap. Once all the buckles were tight, he held himself still, sensing if the crystals were coexisting as expected. He didn’t sense any localized hot or cold spots forming, so he began moving, bending, and twisting to verify that motion did not alter the finely balanced effect.

“Good,” he finally exclaimed. “The protection spell on the cloak is managing the interaction of both crystals. As a bonus, the cloak’s ward spell should also remain active indefinitely simply from the excess magic emitted by the gems.”

“Clever, Milord,” Miranda agreed. “Like a battery that will never run out.”

“That was the plan,” Peter replied while walking over to the burning fireplace. “The balance temperature is set to about ten degrees below body temperature. Any outside temperature above or below that will cause either crystal to trickle out excess magic.”

She looked thoughtful for a moment. “And, even if it is that exact temperature outside, your higher body heat will still power the effect!”

He nodded, impressed at her quick thinking.

“It’s time to test the effect at more extreme temperatures,” he said before stooping.

He held his hand out to the flames, pausing a bit before touching a glowing log with his bare hand. When he did, the glowing wood darkened as the heat was drawn away from his flesh and dumped into the fire crystal in front of his chest. The excess magic released from the gem was used to protect the rest of the cloak and to prevent his hand from burning. He stood up, flexing his hand and inspecting the sleeve of the cloak.

“Amazing, Milord!” Miranda said from next to him. She fingered the end of the leather sleeve. “It’s not even warm.”

Next, Peter went to his desk and picked up the jug of iced water that he’d requested earlier. Wrapping his hand around the dew-covered pottery for a long moment, he tried to detect the effects of the frost crystal.

“I feel the cold of the jug, but my hand is warming to compensate,” he explained. “The frost crystal’s conversion spell is also working.”

“Let me feel your hand,” Miranda asked.

Peter took a long drink before setting the jug down and offering his hand to his executive officer.

“It’s warm,” she replied, amazed.

“So far, so good,” he said in agreement. “The new spell combines both fire and ice spells to work to moderate both the cloak and my body temperature, keeping both close to normal. Now I have to test if the gems can safely interact with my standard invisibility spells.”

Peter stepped away from his executive officer and cast his strongest invisibility charm focused on the cloak. Miranda breathed in sharply when the spell triggered and caused him to fade from view.

“Milord! Even with the cloak’s hood down, I can barely see the top of your head!”

She walked around to get a better angle. “Just the top of your hair is visible.”

“Yes,” he explained. “There is an overlapping area of spillage from the cloak. The effect is enough that I can remove my gloves while still keeping my hands invisible. Let me pull up the hood.”

Peter did so and moved to a new area of the room, squatting slightly so that the hem of his long coat contacted the floor. Miranda had tracked his exposed feet for a moment before losing them. Still in a crouch, he quietly shuffled around her until he stood near the main entry doors. Miranda remained looking near the table where he had been.

“You are completely invisible, Milord!” she said with amazement.

“Good,” he replied, causing her to jump and turn towards where the sound emanated from. “The spell is anchored to the cloak and I have woven it to draw sustaining magic from the output of both crystals. This should allow me to easily maintain the effect indefinitely once I activate it.”

He then mentally released the concealment charm, causing the cloak to become visible for a few seconds before just as quickly restoring it. He repeated the rapid off-and-on magical action a few more times before leaving it in place.

“Amazing!” Miranda gasped. “I’ve never seen you work your spells so fast! How are your energy levels, Milord?”

“Decent,” he replied, still invisible. “The concealment spell on the cloak does draw lightly from my reserves, but the bulk of the magical energy comes from the gems. Aside from these tests, I am roughly at three-quarters level, still somewhat reduced due to using the portal last night.”

Miranda frowned, “I would see you fully recharged before the Mohennial’s arrival. Would you like me to—”

“No, my pet,” he interrupted. “I plan on utilizing my new apprentice for that task.”

Miranda did not quite manage to conceal the frown his statement caused, so he explained carefully. “Bemi needs to better understand her role as an apprentice, Miranda. Also, the experience will help teach her about her own magical limits. Besides, she is still a teenager and will recover from the reduction of her life force faster than either of us.”

Reminding Miranda that the beautiful teenager was a decade younger than she was had been a mistake as his assistant’s frown only increased.

“Also, you have too much on your plate right now to be so drained, XO,” he added softly, approaching silently and touching her cheek.

She flinched at his unexpected touch and turned to look away. He reached out, turning her back to face him before realizing that she still could not see him. He pulled her closer so she was inside the coverage of his cloak’s spell. Miranda would be able to see his features now.

“Do you really want to spend the rest of the day unconscious, or at the least, awake but too exhausted to accomplish anything?” he asked softly.

“No, not really,” she admitted.

The subject of their discussion chose that moment to return to the study. As he had requested, Bemi was carrying Peter’s black boots, leggings, and gloves. She pulled up suddenly upon seeing only Miranda. “Where’s Peter?” Bemi asked, confused.
 

Still invisible, Peter released his XO and silently moved around the teenager until he surprised her by swatting her backside hard.

“Eep!” the startled teenager exclaimed, dropping the clothing and fearfully swiveling around looking for the source of her punishment.

Peter lowered his hood and opened the top of his cloak, causing his head to become mostly visible.

“That’s Lord Peter, Apprentice!” he chastised. “Do not ever again forget your place in my household or you will find yourself no longer part of it!”

“I … I apologize, Milord!” Bemi said, reddening and dropping to her knees in supplication.

“Remain in that position,” Peter instructed as he began uncinching the cloak’s straps. Once all were loose, he removed the heavy coat and handed it to Miranda. His executive assistant maintained a serious expression but Peter could tell she was not quite hiding a smirk. He glared at his executive officer, who promptly wiped the expression from her face before the younger girl could notice. He then gestured to the door.

“Miranda, please wait outside and ensure that no one disturbs us.”

His assistant took the cloak and stoically left the study, sliding closed the heavy wooden doors behind her. Peter moved to stand in front of the still-kneeling teen and remained silent, as if gravely pondering the fate of his new apprentice. As the seconds ticked by, Bemi’s fidgeting increased as the blonde grew more nervous.

Finally, he spoke, “You must never forget your place and status here, young apprentice.”

“I’m sorry, Lord Peter,” she mumbled again. Her head remained bowed, but Peter caught her eyes shifting as she attempted to watch him.

“Silence,” he ordered.

After considering the young woman for a moment, he moved over to the long sofa.

“Come here for your punishment,” he ordered.

The voluptuous teen sprang to her feet, hurrying to comply.

“Kneel on the sofa, facing the wall, with your hands spread across the top of the backrest.”

Bemi did as instructed and was soon in position. Peter then instructed her to clutch the tufts of upholstery at each end of the sofa tightly.

“Do not let go … no matter how painful this lesson becomes,” he instructed. “Do you understand? You may speak.”

She gulped before replying, “Yes, Master.”

Peter moved to stand beside the young girl’s legs, pausing for a long moment to study the outline of her fine ass on display under her tightly stretched skirt. Because she was kneeling on the garment’s front, it was pulled taut, molding the fabric to each perfect, firm globe. He bent down and guided each of her knees up in turn, pulling the skirt free of its confinement.

Once it was loose, he lifted her skirt and slowly folded and bunched it up high on her back. The action revealed her silky, small underclothing and muscular, bare thighs. Peter then slowly pulled down the girl’s drawers, happily confirming the lack of padding, which would have meant the girl was currently experiencing her menses. Bemi’s breathing quickened in both fear and excitement. He sniffed and caught her special scent, which had, until now, been trapped by her skirt.

With her sporty ass now perfectly on display, Peter felt his cock twitch as he drank in the youthful blonde’s beauty and sexuality. Below the clenched globes, her plump public mound was just visible between her slightly-spread thighs. His eyes followed the fine line of pink wetness leading to a tuft of silky blonde pubic hair below. He noted her taut thighs quivering from her nervousness or excitement, or both. They were the powerful thighs of an acrobat and he remembered how they had forcefully and exquisitely squeezed him in the past.

He reached down to slowly caress the teenager smooth skin, moving his palm from one ass cheek down and around the inside of one of her thighs. Peter pushed her thigh outward firmly, prompting Bemi to spread her knees further apart. His forceful contact against her most-private areas causing her to hiss and whimper.

“Remain silent!” He admonished as he released her thigh and pulled his hand back.

Smack! The sound rang across his study as he suddenly spanked her ass hard.

“Eeep!” The girl squeaked as she jumped in surprise.

Peter pulled his hand back and again smacked both cheeks hard a second time. This time, Bemi flinched but was able to remain silent. Eight more spanks followed, each separated by an agonizing delay of about ten seconds. Each was firm and quickly Bemi’s backside reddened. Despite the pain, the girl was growing more aroused. Peter watched her plump nether lips swell and part, exposing the glistening, darker pink tissues hidden inside. He brought his hand down gently and began to massage her heated globes.

“Ten strokes,” he whispered softly. “Will that be sufficient for you to remember your place in my manor, my apprentice?”

“Oh… Yes, Master!” Bemi sobbed out, stuttering.

Peter heard the mixed emotions and knew that the girl was experiencing a combination of shame, hurt, anger, and, … from the way she had spread her thighs even further apart from his gentler touch, arousal. He continued softly caressing the hot, inflamed flesh of her ass as if soaking up the heat.

Bemi sighed at the now-sensual contact and began moving her backside as if tracking his caresses. He dipped his hand lower until his fingers ran through her damp channel. Bemi arched her back in response pressing her womanhood back against his hand and moaned even louder.

Peter bent his middle finger and speared her plump outer mound, coating his digit with Bemi’s now-abundant wetness, and confirming the punishment had defiantly aroused the girl. He slowly sank his digit all the way inside Bemi to the third knuckle with the girl hissing and squirming all the while. As his finger reached maximum penetration Peter felt her cunt spasming gently as if begging for more.

He withdrew his finger and then spread the moisture over her sensitive pleasure bud, feeling it quickly swell as it became engorged. This action swept away all of the girls remaining control and she moaned out a quiet, “Master … please.”

“No talking!” he said firmly, causing the older teen to bury her face into the top edge of the sofa’s headrest.

He placed his middle finger back inside her opening and penetrated her again, this time including a second digit. He felt the outer ring of her channel tense as it stretched to accommodate the extra girth. Below, still confined by his trousers, his cock quickly swelled to full erection with his own arousal.

He withdrew his fingers and brought them up for his inspection. Her copious slippery mucus clung in long strands as he spread his fingers and inhaled her aroma. This caused his erection to throb inside his confining clothing, and using only his left hand, he fumbled about, trying to unfasten his trousers before finally popping free the buttons and quickly pushing them, and his underwear down around his ankles.

Peter moved into position behind the splayed backside of the excited teenager and spread her rosy globes to fully expose Bemi’s core. He pushed his turgid member along her wetness, causing the girl to arch her back again in an attempt to feel as much friction as possible between the top of his cock and her sensitive clitoris. Peter slowly moved his hips forward and backward, sawing his hard shaft against her outer lips and pleasure nub.

“Ohhhhh,” she moaned, abandoning all attempts to remain silent. She was also squirming around, trying to increase the pressure while moving forward and dipping in an attempt to force him inside her. Finally, Peter granted her wish and pulled back far enough so that his trapped cock sprang upwards. He fisted his shaft and forced his swollen cockhead against her outer ring, causing Bemi to moan again and push back steadily against the pressure.

His glans popped inside her opening, and his thick shaft sank steadily into her sopping wet heat. Once he was well seated in place, he released his member and grabbed the teenager’s hips, pulling firmly and driving his girth inside her quivering sheath until he felt the searing contact of her still-red-hot ass cheeks against his groin.

Peter began rhythmically fucking the young women, pushing his cock inward with long patient strokes before pausing briefly once fully embedded. He then reversed his motion and just-as-slowly withdrew his cock, all the while enjoying the exquisite sensation of her tight suction and slippery folds rippling over each ridge and vein of his broad member.

Bemi moaned again as he focused all his attention on his cock pistoning in and out of the quivering girl. Each time he pulled back, it was fascinating to watch how the teen’s tight, muscular sheath gripped his shaft as if desperately seeking to prevent his withdrawal. Her clinging flesh distending outward almost an inch as if she were prolapsing, before folding back inside her tunnel smoothly as his hips reversed to drive his hardness back into her core.

Peter had gone without sex during his recent trip to Earth, and he felt his orgasm building sooner than he preferred. He knew that he would all-too-quickly be filling the teen’s depths with a prodigious load of his semen, and remembering this morning’s fucking had an ulterior purpose over simply getting his rocks off, he began to incant the spell for life force transference.

The spell always worked better when both of the participants were experiencing pleasure and from how the young woman was grunting and pushing her ass back to meet his thrusts, this transfer promised to be an optimal one indeed. His cock stiffened even further and he felt the increasing tension of an impending orgasm building in his lower abdomen just as he finished casting the spell.

Peter jammed his hips forward and felt his glans nestle against the girl’s rubbery cervix. This triggered his climax and he felt the first gout of semen rush down his length to splash against her inner surfaces. His grunt and sudden forceful grip on her hips caused the girl’s climax to arrive with his and he felt her sheath contracting repeatedly around his shaft as she spasmed.

“Ohhh! Milord!” Bemi wailed before biting into the top of his sofa to muffle her cries. The transference spell activated and he felt her life essence begin flowing into him. As he had before when he tested Bemi for magic, he momentarily experienced the out-of-body sensation as he and Bemi merged their awarenesses. His brain struggled to process the exquisite sensation of an erupting cock being squeezed by her tight cunt while simultaneously feeling the strange sensation of being deeply impaled by that same cock.

Oh, Gods!” Peter groaned, letting the powerful sensations overwhelm him.

This level of merged awareness only occurred when the people sharing the ritual both possessed enormous magic potential and Peter almost panicked as he was forced to concentrate trying to maintain his sense of self. Bemi also panicked, not so much from the shared awareness, but because her life force was being rapidly depleted. She fought back instinctively and Peter felt the flow of life energies momentarily reverse.

“No Bemi!” he yelled, “Stop fighting! Trust me!”

He felt her resistance collapse as Bemi somehow complied with his instructions. The strong outward flow of her essence returned and Peter concentrated on managing the exchange to prevent drawing from her too deeply. The ongoing stronger-than-normal physical orgasm they were experiencing made the task difficult but before the life essence transfer approached the point where the teenager’s life might be at risk, he halted the transfer.

This coincided with the conclusion of both their orgasms and he rode the teen down as she collapsed beneath him to lie sated against the backrest of the sofa. Before his weight grew too heavy on the now-unconscious girl, he pulled himself off and stood, stumbling only a bit as his body recovered from its orgasm.

He looked down in amazement at the young girl below him. Such a powerful combination of sexuality and magical talent! Her exposed swollen sex was covered with their mixed fluids with long rivulets streaming down the inside of her thighs. His own now-flaccid cock hung at an angle and trailed a long drip of late-discharge semen as well. What a glorious mess!

Miranda reentered the study carrying his cloak and a large dampened washcloth. She set the folded cloak on the table before kneeling in front of him to wash the sexual sauces from his shaft. Instead of first wiping him with the towel, his executive officer instead took his slimy member into her mouth and bathed him with her tongue. She didn’t attempt a normal blowjob but instead simply cleaned him off orally. After the bulk of the mess was removed, and with his cock now half swollen from her surprising action, she pulled away and met his eyes.

“I see your punishment of the girl was quite satisfying for you,” she said smirking.

“I hope she realizes the last part was actually not intended to be part of her punishment,” he replied. “I’d hate to have her being purposefully disrespectful in the future simply to garner such attention.”

“I doubt she will ever have to go without for long, Milord,” Miranda said before moving to attend to the mess between the unconscious teenager’s thighs. This time his assistant used the towel and Peter helped hold the girl while his executive officer got her cleaned up. Miranda had even brought a vial of pupadominus plant healing sap and soon had the balm applied to Bemi’s reddened ass cheeks.

Once those tasks were finished, Miranda pulled the girl’s underclothes back into place and lowered her skirt. Peter then gathered up the sleeping teenager and moved her to his daybed on the far side of the room. He then checked the girl’s pulse to ensure it remained strong before covering the exhausted teen with a blanket.

“If she is still sleeping at midafternoon, please wake her and have her drink a minor restorative,” he told his XO. “Tomorrow, if I have not yet returned, have her continue to rest. She can start reading the Journal of Na-Shirook, but please see that she keeps the tome in my study at all times.”

Miranda looked at the locked bookcase containing the valuable tome and nodded. “I will see it done, Milord.”

Peter studied the sleeping teenager for a long moment. He’d taken a lot from Bemi, but the girl had surprisingly large reserves so he was not sure how long she would sleep. He was confident she would remain unconscious for at least a few hours which would work in his favor as it would conveniently keep her away from both the pending arrival of the Mohennial and their departure.

He began dressing for his expedition, first donning the leggings and the boots. Miranda helped him buckle the cloak in place and then had him turn in place as she gave him a final inspection. He then armed himself with a magical focus wand which went into a sheath attached to one of the cloak’s securing belts. The wand was made of wicked-sharp metal and would also serve as a stabbing dirk if he ran out of magic to power it.

“You’re all set, Milord,” she commented with more than a little apprehension. “Won’t you get hot waiting for the Mohennial’s arrival?”

Peter smiled, patting his cloak where the fire crystal and the frost gem were stored. “That’s the beauty of the gems. Both work to regulate my body temperature very nicely. I can walk through an oven or a blizzard and still feel comfortable.”

He moved around, testing the fit of the combined gear. “Still a bit heavy and the leggings are stiff,” he muttered. “Oh well, the exercise will do me good. Let’s go meet the others, my dear!”

 

Chapter Two:

 

Ten minutes before noon Peter was out in the manor courtyard waiting for the arrival of the mohennial. He stood near the top of the curving stairway leading from the courtyard up to the manor’s main entry and took in the day. The sun was shining and the early spring day was already warm. Miranda and his former ward, the half-human, half-dark-elf woman, Tevi, stood waiting with him while Bella and Hamm, the married villain couple whom he employed as his housekeeper and foreman, were sitting nearby on one of the courtyard’s many stone benches eating a picnic lunch.

The island’s other four residents were absent. Bemi was still sleeping in his study where he’d drained her. Jaciee, Hamm and Bella’s teenaged daughter, was most likely at their cottage doing her daily chores. The last two, his mountain troll, Klup, and the new slave, Reed, were busy by the workshop. From the faint-but-rhythmic sounds of an active pit saw, the two were busy sawing logs into lumber. Peter was amazed at the rapid pace of the saw. Even with the she-troll’s advancing pregnancy, Klup was still able to outwork most men.

Suddenly he heard a crackling sound and looked up to see a dark portal appear on the courtyard in front of him. Peter felt the hair on his arms rise from the static-like sensation of the powerful magic release and motioned Tevi and Miranda to step back. The circular portal grew and morphed into a doorway. He’d been expecting Mohennial Sala but instead a dangerous-looking female battle wizard stepped through.

The woman was tall, nearly his height, and was wearing a full leather warded face mask and helmet which left only her dark eyes and mouth area exposed. She was also solidly built with corded, lean muscles visible under a tightly fitted, reinforced, black leather bodysuit. Shoulder-length red hair was visible where it escaped the helmet’s fringes.

The battle wizard swiveled in place, taking in her surroundings. Peter noted that she was armed with a short heavy trident spear that was powered by a large, pulsating crystal. She swept the trident ahead of her as she turned, assessing the others of his party and surveying the surrounding area. Finally, after determining that there was no immediate danger, the woman climbed the steps toward Peter.

“Lord Bent, it’s been a very long time. Nice place you have here.”

Peter thought he recognized the voice. He looked closer, trying to see the woman behind the mask.

“Lady Constance? Is it really you?” he asked skeptically. This woman appeared to be much younger than the woman he’d remembered.

“In the flesh,” the battle wizard replied, smiling. “Although it’s also Commander Constance now. I’m surprised you remember me. It’s been more than, what, eighty years?”

“Eighty-six,” he replied. “I’d heard you’d retired decades ago?”

“I had, but my retirement died the same moment I did,” she confirmed with more than a little bitterness.

“Oh?”

“Yes,” she continued with a sigh. “I’d completed my third twenty-year hitch with the Order and had earned a happy and well-funded retirement,” she explained. “Then, just as I was about to move into my newly-finished manor house, I get killed by being thrown from a fucking horse!”

Peter winced in sympathy. “You were resurrected of course?”

“Of course, I was!” she answered exasperated. “But not before my corpse had been mostly eaten by the same Kraglion that had spooked my horse!”

She took a deep breath and calmed down. “Yes, I retained the Order resurrection policy into my retirement. But apparently, being retired meant I was now a very low priority case. The Order witches were in no rush to trigger the retrieval spell.”

That explained Constance’s much younger and fitter body. She’d had to wait to be resurrected until a new replacement body could be quickened from the salvaged remains of her corpse. The delay had probably explained why he had not heard mention of her name in the many decades since her retirement.

“And then, when I’m finally brought out of stasis,” she continued, again sounding bitter, “I find I’m now bankrupt from the added regrowth charges. I had to sell all my holdings and sign up for active duty with the Order again.”

“Gods, Commander!” he said with sympathy. “I’m so sorry to hear that. How long are you on the hook for?”

“Only another double, double hitch.”

“Another eighty years!” he exclaimed.

“Well, it’s not too bad,” she explained. “They did give me a raise and let me reenlist as a full high wizard. And, truth to tell, up until my death, retirement had not been all that I’d expected it to be.”

“And you’re here today because the Order assigned you to work with the Mohennial?” he asked.

“Not quite,” she replied with a strange expression.

She stepped closer and spoke much more softly so the others standing further away could not overhear. “I’m technically on temporary detachment from the Order and working a private mercenary contract for Mistress Sala.”

Now this was interesting! Why would Sala be funding this endeavor herself? She had the authority to requisition from the Order any forces needed at no cost to herself.

“Did she tell you why she hired you privately and not simply requisition support?” he asked, also in a whisper.

“Yes,” Constance admitted while shaking her head. “But I’m not sure how much I am free to share with you. You’ll have to ask the Mohennial yourself when we see her. All I will tell you is that part of the reason she selected me is because, nearly a decade ago, I was stationed at Anodynen Keep in the Frozen North.”

Peter had heard of the remote keep in the past but had never learned details beyond its name. He did recall that when it was spoken of, it was usually part of a curse or of a threat to be sent there.

“I’ve heard of the place but always assumed it was just a cold weather training area,” he commented.

“It is used for cold-weather training, but the Keep’s main purpose was to verify the Final Agreement pact with the cryo-dragons was maintained,” Constance explained. “Or is maintained, as I guess the pact is still in effect. The time I spent there makes me as much of an expert in the region as anyone, I suppose.”

“Final Agreement?” Peter asked.

He’d never heard of an agreement with the dragons and until very recently, had thought the species extinct. He’d read reports stating as much, but apparently, those were falsehoods, lies promoted by the Order itself. His question caused the Commander to scowl.

“Sorry,” Constance corrected. “I’ve clearly revealed too much about secrets that I am not free to share. Again, you’ll have to ask Mohennial Sala… or, learn many of the answers on your own if we survive the next few days.”

“The Mohennial’s missive said she was coming here. Are we waiting for her?”

“No, there’s been a change of plans,” Commander Constance explained. “I was sent to fetch you and we will travel to meet Mistress Sala. I also have a message for your ward, a female half-dark-elf archer.”

Constance then turned and gestured to Tevi who reacted with surprise. “I assume that is you?”

“Tevi is my former ward,” Peter corrected before Tevi could respond. “She now works as a woman-at-arms for me as a free person. What does Sala want with her?”

Commander Constance ignored his question for the moment, instead gesturing towards the young half-elf to approach quickly.

Tevi jogged down, looking at Peter nervously before facing the battle wizard. “Yes … ma’am?”

“I am Commander Constance. I’ve been instructed by the mohennial Sala to extend you an offer.”

“Tevi, you don’t—”

“Please remain silent, Lord Bent,” Constance interjected with a serious look.

Peter clenched his jaw but did as the Commander instructed.

“Freewoman Tevi,” Constance stated formally, emphasizing the first part. “The Mohennial Sala would like to hire you to accompany us on our little expedition today. You would serve as our archer to provide ranged overwatch for the party … the party which includes your Lord Bent, I should add. In exchange for these services, the Mohennial offers payment of a thousand standard gold.”

“Tevi,” Peter interrupted, ignoring Constance’s glare and pushing forward to stand between them. “The money’s not worth the risk. You could die instantly to some cryo-dragon trap before I or the Mohennial could even begin to react.”

“In addition,” the commander continued as if Peter had not spoken. “Mohennial Sala will provide full resurrection protective services to you for the duration of the expedition. Furthermore, once this coverage is in place, she will continue to pay for the service for an additional full year after our return.”

Peter was stunned! Sala would have known that, as a half-dark-elf, Tevi had enough latent magic for the resurrection spells to work. It was one hell of an incentive, with the total cost exceeding the original gold payment value by at least three times. It would also protect the young woman in the near future from accident or mayhem, including the distinct possibility of a vengeful cryo-dragon following them back from this expedition if it should go poorly.

Peter grudgingly nodded. “Now, that’s a very good offer, Tevi. But consider that dying could be extremely painful. Or if you die as the result of certain magical attacks, the resurrection could fail. And even if you die the right way, if your body was not recovered intact, you could be held in stasis for a decade or more until a new one was grown. I’ve heard stasis is… disconcerting.

He glanced at Commander Constance as he’d said that and caught her uncontrolled shudder. The tough-looking woman met his eyes with an expression that indicated that Peter was correct but that he had no idea of just how disconcerting dying was.

Tevi looked overwhelmed. “I… I’m not sure what to do, Commander. May I consult with Lord Bent’s executive assistant in private for a moment?”

Constance nodded and the lean, dark-skinned half-elf trotted back to where Miranda now stood watching with Bella and Hamm. Peter was momentarily hurt that she sought out Miranda’s advice instead of his own, but then he realized that Miranda would offer fair and sound advice from the perspective of one lacking his own… substantial resources.

While they waited, he turned back to Constance and quietly asked, “If this adventure is so risky, what about me?”

Constance snorted. “Don’t you already maintain a resurrection contract of your own?”

Peter kept a straight face, revealing nothing, but Commander Constance smiled regardless and nodded.

“I thought so,” she continued. “You’ll have to work out any additional perks and recompense with the Mohennial yourself. She left me no instructions regarding you except that you would be returning with me.”

Peter caught the emphasis Constance placed on the word would. As he’d feared, along with his new, closer association with Mohennial Sala came obligations. He would have to find a way to quantify those obligations and seek to impose limits if any were too unreasonable. Or, at the very least, ensure that he was rewarded as befitting the additional risks he was to face.

Tevi came trotting back. Peter could tell from her excited look what the half-elf had decided.

“I agree to join your party, Commander,” she said breathlessly. “What do I need to bring? My bow?”

“No, the Mohennial will arm you when we join up with her,” Commander Constance explained. “But please do fetch your heaviest cold-weather clothing. What Mistress Sala has available would likely not properly fit your slender frame.”

Tevi ran off again, this time heading around the Manor towards the rear kitchen entry and the mudroom where she kept her outdoor gear.

“How long do you expect us to be gone?” Peter asked Constance.

“Mohennial Sala hopes to see our business concluded before nightfall,” the Commander replied. “Although, it would be prudent to let your staff know that your return could be delayed… possibly for some time.”

Peter grimly nodded and went to inform Miranda and the others. Halfway to the group, he held up and motioned his XO to approach, deciding to speak to her privately. He soberly relayed what he had learned from the Commander. He reminded his XO that, if he did not return before nightfall, to continue managing the island as usual. With his unpredictable lifestyle, he and Miranda had already prepared contingencies that would go into effect if he went missing for various extended time periods.

These plans involved the general care of the manor, the wellbeing of his villeins and staff, and any ongoing business interests in the short term. If he was gone for more than a year, and with no indications of his return, Miranda was to invoke more extreme contingencies involving selling off his possessions, this island, and seeing to the provisioning, dismissal, and relocation of the staff.

He then motioned to Hamm and Bella after giving his XO a hug goodbye.

The burly villein led his wife over and said cheerfully, “Be safe, Milord!”

“You too, Hamm,” Peter replied, placing both hands on Hamm’s shoulders. “Keep your family and the island safe while I am gone.”

Hamm, surprised at the intimate contact with his lord, simply nodded.

Peter also surprised Bella by giving her a quick hug before returning to where Constance stood waiting near the still-active portal.

“Your staff seem to care for you a great deal, Lord Bent.”

“They are more family to me than just staff.”

Her expression was bemused. “Is that wise?”

“Probably not,” he replied. “But it is what it is.”

“You’ve grown soft, Lord Bent,” Constance commented more quietly.

She then looked him up and down before focusing on his groin hidden under his cinched cloak.

“I hope other notable parts of you have not also grown so soft?” she whispered with a smirk.

“No complaints so far about that department, Constance,” he replied with a wry smile.

“Good,” she continued lasciviously. “You were a… more than an average partner back when we shared a bedroll. Your stature was… renowned, as I recall.”

That’s right! Peter remembered. He had bedded Constance when he’d been a much younger man. Back then, he’d been far more foolish and had lacked confidence in both his body and its performance. In a misguided attempt to solve both issues, he’d spent most of his signing bonus to have a greedy healer witch make his cock larger. Too large, as he soon learned the first time he’d found a willing partner to use it on.

“Ah… yes,” he admitted, shaking his head. “Well, as you may recall, that proved to have been a mistake. I was young and foolish, and I apologize for any pain I may have subjected you to.”

“It had been a very memorable encounter,” she agreed ruefully.

“Well, I soon realized my folly,” Peter explained, looking even more embarrassed. “A few years after our encounter, and after saving enough money, I found a far-more-skilled healing witch who was able to reverse much of the growth the first had cursed me with. I’m much closer to normal-sized now.”

“Awe … that’s too bad,” Commander Constance said poutingly with another quick glance downward as if seeking to verify his statement. “You no longer seek to make the average stallion jealous then?”

“Not quite… although I made sure that I was left with a little extra,” he replied with a grin. “Smaller stallions might still have something to worry about.”

Constance’s eyebrows rose as she laughed. “Well, in that case, I would not be opposed to a rematch if we get delayed and have to share a bedroll.”

“Or even if we did not get delayed?” Peter asked with a smirk. He would not be opposed to a rematch either, especially with Constance, now with a body barely past two decades. She’d been a great teacher for him nearly a century ago when they’d tussled, full of passion that befitted her fiery red hair. He smiled at her and considered how to reply.

Their flirting was interrupted by Tevi, who came jogging back from the rear of the Manor. Because of the warm day, she was simply carrying her hooded coat bundled under one arm but was wearing her winter boots and fur-covered leggings. She also wore a belt with her sheathed Bowie-style hunting knife.

Peter smiled as he spotted the weapon. He recalled the young woman’s joy when he’d presented her with the Earth-made knife upon releasing her from her wardship and making her a free tenant. It had been a pain in the ass to bring the fine steel knife blank back through the portal from Earth, and then, costly and time-consuming to have a local weaponsmith add the custom grip and hilt, but Tevi’s pride every time he saw her wielding it continued to pay back dividends for the gesture.

“All ready?” he asked the young woman.

“Yes, Master,” she replied excitedly. “As ready as I will ever be.”

“Let’s get going then,” Commander Constance ordered. “Peter, you go through first, then you, Tevi. I’ll follow you both and close the portal.”

Peter nodded at Tevi, who grinned and nodded back. Oh, the enthusiasm of the young, he thought wistfully. He faced the portal and stepped one leg through, again surprised at the lack of fatigue the action caused as compared to crossing his own portals. Maybe he could convince the Mohennial to share a few of her portal secrets with him as compensation for the risks he was taking? He kept walking, and as his trailing leg passed the threshold, he felt himself transported elsewhere.

***

Instead of the frozen wasteland Order keep which he’d been told was their destination, Peter emerged into a dark and very hot cavern. What dim lighting there was came from two fae-lights burning near the cavern’s narrow exit. Red light also came from a crack in the floor which cast a deep glow onto the ceiling above it. The shimmer of heat was visible coming from the crack and Peter realized the bottom must be exposed to magma.

A regal-looking robed woman knelt by the edge of the ravine. The woman rose as he stepped further away from the portal, and Peter confirmed it was Mohennial Sala. This, and the presence of the active lava flow, meant they must be near, or more likely under, the Vent, Sala’s fortified home located near the base of Rumble Mountain.

“Mistress Sala,” he said, bowing deeply before the Mohennial.

“Lord Bentencourt. Thank you for coming.”

“You left me with little choice,” he replied.

Sala cackled, “True, but thank you all the same.”

The Mohennial then turned to address Tevi who had just emerged wide-eyed from the portal.

“Welcome,” Sala said. “I am the Mohennial Sala. You must be Lord Bent’s woman-at-arms, Tevi? I hear you are a formidable archer.”

“Yes… Yes, Mohennial… ma’am,” Tevi replied nervously before glancing at Peter with some trepidation.

“You may call me Mistress Sala. Be at ease… you are under my protection. Thank you for agreeing to accompany us on our little mission.”

Commander Constance arrived, and the portal winked out of existence behind her. Peter caught Sala draw in a deep breath and relax as if she had just set a heavy burden aside. Like it did with him, the strain of holding portals active sapped her life forces greatly.

“Nice place for a portal room, Mistress,” he commented, gesturing towards the heat emanating from the rift. “The fire crystal effect?”

Commander Constance looked between him and the Mohennial with curiosity at his statement.

“Very good, Peter,” Sala admitted. “As you have already surmised, I utilize the crystals and the latent heat from the nearby lava flow to help sustain my life force usage. Locating the portal near a great source of heat is most efficient.”

Peter had been considering such an idea for his own portal room. Unlike this place, he lacked a natural heat source, but he could install a huge, coal-fed brazier next to the portal to steadily recharge his own life force using the crystal he’d been given.

“I apologize for not fetching you myself as my missive stated, Lord Bent,” Sala said. “I was too weak from extensive traveling over the past few days, so I remained here to recharge and sent the Commander in my stead.”

“I understand, Mistress,” he replied. “It allowed me a moment to catch up with Lady Constance.”

“You two know each other?” Sala asked.

Peter nodded while Constance answered, “We served in the Order together when we were younger.”

“Ah,” was Sala’s only reply. She then turned to Tevi, who was shifting uncomfortably. “Well then. Let’s leave this chamber as I can tell the heat is troublesome for our young elf-kin archer. Follow me.”

She led them up a long, winding tunnel. Outside the chamber, there was a steady inflow of cool air flowing downward, and Tevi breathed a sigh of relief. Soon, they began passing a series of heavily-built side doors. Peter recognized the complex-looking locks as those the Order used to secure armories or treasure storage rooms. The Mohennial paused at the door nearest to the portal chamber they had just departed and placed her hand on the access ward.

There was a click as the lock released, and Sala shoved against the heavy door. It opened with a shuddering groan, which suggested an immense weight supported on rusty hinges. Inside was a windowless storage room lined with shelving. Unlike the dim corridor, the storage room was brightly lit by four illuminated fae-lights hung suspended from the room’s barrel-vaulted stone ceiling.

The shelves were filled with bundles of intriguing old scrolls and lacquered wood boxes of all shapes and sizes. Peter’s fingers itched to begin exploring what was obviously valuable treasure or knowledge. On the floor near the base of the closest shelf were two large pumpkin-sized objects which Peter recognized as the cryo-dragon eggs. Each blue-black egg was wrapped in a loosely woven net of heavy cord from which he sensed strange magical emissions. One of the nets had green ribbon woven through its cords, while the other had yellow.

The center of the storage vault was dominated by a long, heavy work table. On the table were two items with the nearest being a leather-wrapped bundle having the shape of a longbow. Beyond was a smaller, intricately engraved box. The Mohennial approached the box first, carefully opened it, and removed two glass vials. One of the vials was small and plain, while the other was larger and constructed of intricately fashioned crystal.

Sala offered the smaller vial to Tevi. “First, we will take care of our young elf-kin’s resurrection policy. Drink this.”

“What is it, Milady?” Tevi asked nervously as she handed Peter her bundled cloak and took the vial.

Peter cringed when Tevi questioned the Mohennial’s instructions, but Sala didn’t take offense.

“It’s just a numbing agent,” the Mohennial explained, “It will temporarily numb your taste buds so that you do not spit up the virtually priceless resurrection potion which you will consume next.”

Peter was intrigued. When he had formed his own resurrection pact with Rhecate, the crazy old witch had given him something that rendered him unconscious. She must have done so for reasons which Sala had just explained but had gone about it differently than by just numbing his mouth.

Tevi opened the small vial and quaffed its contents. Afterward, she smacked her lips with a funny expression.

“I can feel my mouff gettn numb.”

“Good, the sensation will last only a minute,” the Mohennial explained. Sala then carefully handed Tevi the crystal vial. “Please open this vial very carefully and drink the contents completely. Do not spill as much as a single drop or I will vent my wrath upon your master.”

Peter frowned at Sala who simply returned his gaze with a smirk. Her raised eyebrows seemed to imply that if Tevi messed up, it was due to his improper training of the girl, and therefore, he should be blamed. He shrugged, accepting responsibility, as it was arguably true.

They watched as Tevi carefully unstopped the fancy vial and drank its contents. She held the tipped vial to her mouth for a long moment, ensuring that every drop was consumed before lowering it and swallowing repeatedly. Sala nodded approvingly at both the girl and Peter.

“Good. Now please place the crystal vial back in the box so I can return it to the Order’s resurrection witches for replacement.”

When the box was again sealed and stowed on one of the shelves, Sala turned to face the now very apprehensive Tevi. She placed both of her hands on the slender, dark-skinned woman’s temples and bowed her head, incanting a complex spell under her breath. Peter recognized enough to understand that Sala was activating a linkage between the potion Tevi had just consumed and the distant resurrection facility the Order maintained on Sanctuary Island.

Nearly two minutes of enchanting followed. During this time, Peter watched a noticeable magical aura spreading throughout Tevi’s body, starting at her abdomen and ending at her extremities. Sala finally removed her hands.

“Good,” the Mohennial announced. “Tevi, as the commander should have explained, I will fund the resurrection contract for a full year. This should be far longer than our present need requires, but the additional cost for a year versus just a week is minimal, and the excess is to your benefit. After the first year, the cost of maintaining the policy increases substantially and you will have to make your own arrangements if you wish to maintain the contract.”

Tevi looked overwhelmed and glanced at Peter, who kept his expression neutral. He would have loved to assure Tevi that he would continue to fund the policy, but he lacked the resources to spend such amounts on just one member of his staff. But maybe a windfall would shine on him that would change that situation.

“Next,” continued the Mohennial, “I have something which I suspect you will enjoy far more than the resurrection policy.”

“Only if that policy goes unused,” Peter muttered to himself.

Sala ignored his quip and motioned Tevi to unwrap the leather parcel.

“Go ahead, Child,” she prompted, when Tevi hesitated. “Let’s see if you are suited for the role I have hired you to perform.”

Tevi carefully untied the thongs holding the bundle shut and exposed the contents. As Peter had guessed, inside was a large, unstrung longbow. Her eyes lit up as the bone-white, finely engraved weapon was revealed. She looked excitedly to the Mohennial.

“Yes, that’s a standard battle wizard longbow,” Mohennial Sala explained. “Although this bow has been enhanced with wards to increase both its endurance and accuracy. There are also passive wards to help you draw and aim it properly. Bowstrings are in the pouch. Go ahead and see if you can string it.”

Tevi reverently lifted the long, graceful-looking weapon.

“It’s so light!”

“Yes,” Sala explained. “They are made from laminated drake bones. As light as aluminum, but far stronger.”

Tevi and Constance both looked confused at Sala’s description of the earthly metal. Peter smirked at the Mohennial’s slip. He also noted she had pronounced the word using five syllables, instead of the American four.

“Aluminum is a mostly unknown, rare, and very light metal,” she quickly added before they could ask.

Sala then extracted the bowstrings from a pocket in the leather covering and handed one to Tevi. The half-elf carefully fitted an end loop to the bow’s lower limb, which she then placed between her feet. She then slowly pulled the top limb down so the bow was bent enough to allow the string’s top loop to slip into place. Tevi then carefully let the string take the tension of the bow.

“Good!” Sala said before turning to Constance and nodding.

“Now, hold the bow fully drawn for a slow count of ten,” the Commander instructed.

Again, Tevi managed the task but there was a noticeable quiver in her arms for the final few seconds.

“Adequate,” Constance said before turning back to the Mohennial.

“Yes, you will do,” Sala agreed. “Now for the quiver.”

She then went to another shelf and returned with a full quiver, laying it carefully down on the worktable next to the bow’s leather covering. Peter saw that the quiver was divided into two compartments—a larger pouch with over a dozen long arrows and a smaller with half as many. Sala carefully extracted an arrow from the smaller compartment. Peter noticed that the arrow had a large crystal tip.

“Do NOT drop this, Child,” she instructed before carefully handing Tevi the strange arrow. “Besides being nearly priceless, the points are… sensitive.”

Tevi took the arrow reverently and inspected it slowly, starting with the fletching before proceeding up the waxed, perfectly straight shaft to finish at the heavy crystalline forward tip. Peter saw the point was formed by two crystals, one red and one clear. The clear outer crystal was sharply pointed. He also noted the shaft just behind the tip was heavily etched with wards.

“Diamond and fire crystal?” he asked the Mohennial.

“Yes. These six are the only such arrows in existence. I finished working with the master gem smith and master fletcher on their creation just yesterday.”

“The arrow is a bit heavy in the nose, Mistress Sala,” Tevi said with some hesitation.

“Do you think you can compensate well enough to hit anything with it?” Sala asked.

“How big a target and how far away?”

“Say a large bird in flight at perhaps… twenty paces?” the Mohennial asked in return.

Tevi frowned. “I’m… I’m not sure, mistress. Could we test one?”

This time the Mohennial frowned. After a long moment, she sighed and responded, “I suspect we must. I hate to waste even one, but I see the logic in properly testing their use.”

Sala looked around the room for a moment. “This chamber is far too small. Let’s proceed up to the surface courtyard. Bring the bow and one of each type of arrow, Tevi.”

Peter noted that as they left the chamber, the Mohennial locked the room behind them. Apparently, she did not have complete trust in her staff or the security arrangements at the Vent. Or, maybe the room’s other contents or the five remaining fire crystal arrows were as valuable as she had claimed.

They made their way up almost three levels of stone-ramping corridors before emerging outside through a heavily guarded gateway. The familiar courtyard with Rumble Mountain nearby confirmed, as Peter had suspected, that they were indeed at the Vent. He was also pleased to see the weather on this side of the Sunsets was as cloudless and sunny as his island had been before they left. But, with the cool breeze spilling down from the mountains to the east, the temperature here was not as warm.

Sala directed them to the far end of the clearing where a small stand of mature, newly blossomed apple trees stood about thirty paces away. One of the trees looked damaged from having recently been struck by lightning. Peter was surprised at this because, on Kreven, storm cloud lightning was magically grounded to the planet's core and seldom harmed anything it struck on the surface. Maybe the area around the Vent was shielded from the planet’s strange electrical effects somehow.

“First, to familiarize yourself with the bow, shoot the standard arrow into the dead apple tree, Tevi,” Mohennial Sala directed.

Tevi handed the fire crystal arrow she’d been holding carefully to Sala before stepping away and nocking the standard arrow. She took a breath and drew back, aiming for just a second before letting fly. The projectile flew swiftly to the tree and struck it only a few inches off-center.

“It struck slightly high,” Tevi said. “This bow is stronger than I am used to.”

“Can you compensate?” Commander Constance asked.

The half-dark-elf nodded and the Mohennial returned the fire crystal arrow.

“Tevi, I will count down from five,” Sala began. “Instead of saying ‘zero’, I will say ‘shoot’. When you hear ‘shoot’, put the fire arrow into that same tree trunk.”

The mohennial retreated again as Tevi nocked the special arrow into the white longbow and readied herself to fire. She took aim, angling the bow slightly higher as she attempted to compensate for the heavier projectile. Finally, she took a breath and nodded to Sala. Instead of counting, the mohennial began weaving a shielding spell. Peter saw a shimmer appear between Tevi and the rest of the group.

When the shield was fully formed, Mistress Sala began counting down from five. She had reached two when Peter’s brain finally registered that the mohennial has set the shield to protect the rest of them from Tevi and the untested arrow! Would it detonate when she let fly? Was she about to be killed?

Before he could call out to halt the test, Sala had already reached zero and yelled, "Shoot". Tevi loosed the arrow the exact moment she heard the command. As the ‘twang’ of the bowstring reached them, the Mohennial gestured quickly and shifted the shielding spell so that it now included Tevi in its area of protection. Peter barely noticed this as he was following the flight of the front-heavy arrow as it arced toward the dead tree. It looked to be flying true, and Peter was impressed that Tevi was able to compensate for such an unbalanced projectile while using an unfamiliar bow.

The arrow hit dead center on the trunk and exploded with a flash of intense light and heat, followed by a rapidly expanding hemisphere of burning wooden shrapnel. The protective shield bubble around the group flared as it deflected much of the detonation. It also muted the thunderclap of sound which rolled over them a tenth of a second later. Enough heat still got through that Peter felt the fire crystal embedded in his cloak work to absorb the flux.

“Wow!” Tevi yelled, too shocked at the destruction to dodge the rain of still-burning shrapnel.

She looked down at the bow she held in amazement before turning back to Sala with a wide grin. Commander Constance stood stunned a moment before looking to Peter with more worry than surprise.

“Good!” the Mohennial said, clapping her hands in relief. “The arrow works! We are now ready to proceed.”

 

Chapter Three:

 

They retraced their route back underground. As Sala began to unlock the door leading to the vault, Peter asked to speak with her alone. The Mohennial instructed Commander Constance and Tevi to wait in the corridor a moment before directing Peter to enter before her. She followed, shutting the heavy door behind her but leaving it unlocked.

“Yes, Lord Bent?” she asked with a tight smile.

Peter swallowed and began, “The test above … I saw your initial placement of your shield. You were unsure if the arrowhead would detonate when Tevi released the bowstring?”

The Mohennial shrugged. “I simply took reasonable precautions, Peter. I was confident that the arrow would work as intended.”

“But you were not completely sure,” Peter pressed with increasing anger. “You put Tevi’s life at risk!”

“I did,” Sala responded calmly. “But if you recall, I had just finished ensuring that she was under the protection of an active resurrection policy.”

“But still—”

“Lord Bent!” the Mohennial interrupted with a grave voice. “You forget yourself!”

Peter clenched his teeth, and thankfully, remained silent. After a long moment, he continued more calmly, “I apologize, Mistress. I’m just worried about my former ward.”

“That is understandable, Peter,” Sala replied. “But, as you recall, I did not force the girl to accompany us on this expedition. She accepted the risk freely. And, you have to agree, the girl is being amply compensated.

“Yes, both are true,” Peter admitted. “I just don’t understand why you need an archer. Would not the fire crystal gun weapon we used a week ago at Hale Pass have suited? After all, it killed a fully grown cryo-dragon with one shot. I expect it also has a greater range than that unbalanced arrow does.”

The Mohennial’s expression turned bitter. “Yes, the gun would have been ideal, but I was unable to procure the use of it a second time. Also, the price I had to pay for the usage of just the single magical shell was astronomical.”

“So, you built your own version of a fire crystal bullet?”

“In a fashion, yes,” she replied. “Although, as you’ve just seen demonstrated, it’s a lesser version, as the simple bow-fired projectile has far less range and travels much slower. Still, if our archer lets fly her arrow from full concealment and with surprise, the weapon should prove quite adequate.”

Peter considered the destruction of the apple tree and nodded. “Assuming Tevi can hit a vulnerable-enough spot. The cryo-dragon’s armor is quite formidable.”

Mohennial Sala shrugged, conceding his point. “As I stated Lord Bent, I was reasonably certain firing the arrow would be safe. After all, I modeled the new fire crystal arrow tips after the shell we’d used on the first dragon. That shell withstood the much-greater forces of being fired out of a gun without prematurely detonating, did it not?”

“That’s true,” Peter replied grudgingly. “Still, did you see how Tevi had to loft that heavy arrow? I’d much prefer to leave her behind and wait until the gun again becomes available. Can we offer to pay more?

“We?” the Mohennial snorted. “Spending my coin so easily, I see.”

Peter began to apologize, but Sala waved her hand dismissing his comment.

“I agree the projectile weapon would be better. But my sources say that no matter how much I might offer, my request to borrow it again would be rejected.”

Peter picked up on the bitterness in her tone.

“Is the reason for that related to why this expedition you’ve assembled seems to be a mostly private venture?” Peter asked carefully. “I can’t help but wonder why you’ve selected me and Tevi when you could have simply ordered a full squad of experienced Order battle wizards accompany you to return the eggs.”

The Mohennial looked at him for a long moment as if considering how much she should share. Finally, she responded, “Your suspicions do you credit, Lord Bent. Say nothing to the others of what I am about to reveal.”

She paused until Peter agreed.

“For many years,” she explained quietly, “I have sensed certain… shifts, within the highest levels of the Third Order. These shifts often were keenly focused against my interests. I have deployed resources to investigate my suspicions and recently, received indications that the arrival of the cryo-dragon and the eggs in the Sunsets might not be due to chance. The male dragon may have been somehow enticed to create a brood at that location. And, being so near the Vent, this was either to preoccupy me, or worse, to actively destroy me.”

Peter blinked as he tried to understand the ramifications of Sala’s statement. Finally, he spoke, “That’s … that is quite the theory.”

“Yes, and I lack enough evidence to move it beyond being simply a theory at this time,” Sala replied. “Hence, this covert attempt to return the two living eggs myself. I hope to learn the truth of the matter directly from the source, and if it was a plot, who on Kreven was behind it.”

“But, couldn’t you take your theory to the Order’s ruling council and have them investigate it? Surely, they cannot all be part of such a plot.”

“As I said, I lack enough evidence, Lord Bent,” the Mohennial replied warily. “Until I know more, I dare not alert any potential adversaries of my suspicions.”

Peter nodded as he now better understood the Mohennial’s actions.

“Any further questions?” Sala asked.

“Just one,” he replied smiling. “Commander Constance stated that I was to negotiate a suitable recompense regarding my increased exposure to potential dangers from this mission with you myself. Shall we bargain?”

Mistress Sala laughed. “No bargains this time, Lord Bent. But if you somehow manage to survive, I’ve planned a compensation for you that I’m sure you will find more than adequate.”

Peter sighed dramatically and nodded. He had little choice but to trust Sala and she knew it.

Sala pointed to the two net-wrapped eggs where they still sat on the floor. “Before the others rejoin us, help me recharge the stasis wards which I have set to protect and sustain the eggs.”

Using both her hands on the lifting loop tied on top, the Mohennial very carefully lifted one of the eggs and set it on the heavy table. Sala then held her hands over various parts of the green-ribbon-entwined net while chanting. Peter felt the magical energy leave her body and infuse the net ward.

Sala then gestured for him to recharge the other egg. “Be very careful lifting it, Peter. The protecting net ward is almost fully discharged.”

Peter stooped and found the loop handle on the second net-wrapped egg. He gripped the thick rope tightly with one hand and heaved, lifting the beach-ball-sized egg and placing it onto the table next to the first. The egg had been surprisingly heavy— more than a similarly-sized pumpkin. He had strained to manage it with one hand and found himself impressed that the Mohennial had so easily lifted hers. Sala obviously had some method of enhancing her physical strength beyond that expected of her normal-looking musculature.

Once the second globe was in place on the bench, Sala had Peter place his hands around it as she had just done with the first. Peter did so but hesitated before using magic.

“Release some magic into the wards, Peter,” Sala explained patiently. “Sense the flow and adjust the flavor of the magic to match that which the ward requires. You will be able to sense when there is a match.”

He gently sent a trickle and noted resistance from the ward. As Sala had instructed, he tuned the flavor of his magic until the ward accepted the flow and the resistance faded.

“The wards do what exactly?” he asked as the net wrap recharged.

“The wards compensate for the lack of periodic contact with an adult cryo-dragon and keep the eggs viable. They also retard any development of the embryos inside, so we should not have to worry about a premature hatching before we can return them.”

“Why the colored ribbons?”

“Because they are pretty?” the Mohennial replied laughing. At his dismayed expression, she continued, “The egg with the yellow ribbon is much closer to hatching without the ward’s effects.”

Something about Sala’s explanations felt hollow. Peter looked at her suspiciously, but dared not push the issue. He continued to infuse his magic into the net ward and felt the flow slowing at about the same moment Sala announced that the ward was almost fully recharged. She stepped forward, holding her hands around the egg for a moment before nodding and motioning for him to open the door and let their companions rejoin them.

***

Ten minutes later, and now back down in the dark, stifling, lava-lit portal room they’d arrived in earlier, Peter, Tevi, and Commander Constance stood waiting as Mistress Sala knelt in front of the large stone portal archway. Her head was bowed as she chanted and poured life energies into the structure.

Peter was able to overhear enough of her muttering to deduce that she was shifting the portal’s other-end-point from its recent terminus on his island to their new destination near Anodynen Keep. As he had already suspected from before, Sala’s actions confirmed the Mohennial had the ability to actively retarget her portals. Peter was envious of the skills and advanced ward work on display.

The Mohennial seemed to wilt as her life energies caused the ancient-looking device to finally activate. The room surged as the magic of the activating portal washed over them. While the others were distracted by the effect, Peter caught the Mohennial subtly clutching her fire crystal necklace as she used it to convert some of the room’s latent heat into lifeforce-restoring energies.

As she did this, he felt the room grow noticeably cooler for a few seconds before the heat returned to normal. At his side, Tevi looked around at the sudden chill, but as the heat returned, she resumed shifting uncomfortably, as now fully dressed in her cold-weather clothing, she was suffering in the room’s heat. The quick temperature reversal also hinted to Peter that the Mohennial knew of a technique to temporarily intensify the fire crystal’s effect. This was another secret he was eager to learn.

Commander Constance noticed the half-elf’s discomfort. “Only a few more moments, Tevi. Soon we will be out of this heat and freezing our asses off at Anodynen Keep.”

“I have opened the portal to the ice plain just outside the Keep,” Mohennial Sala said as she stood and stepped back from the base of the portal. “Lord Bent, please cast your invisibility spell on your former ward and maintain it at all times after we arrive at our destination. I would have her presence in our party remain secret, even from any allies we encounter.”

Peter nodded and turned to face Tevi, who looked back at him with a wide-eyed expression. He smiled to reassure the girl and focused his mental energy, softly incanting the spell needed to form his strongest invisibility ward. The spell took effect, and the tall, thin, half-elf faded from view. As it was his magic causing the effect, Peter was still able to detect her location by sensing where his continually flowing magic was being absorbed.

The effect caused a vague outline of distortion, and Peter saw that it was now moving and twisting as if Tevi were inspecting herself. He sharpened his senses until the distortion became clearer. Tevi now seemed to be studying her new bow and the special arrows in her quiver.

“Master! I can still see my skin, clothing, and weapons. But I look… and I feel, strange. It’s almost like I am shimmering. Are you sure the magic is working?”

“The spell is designed so that you can see yourself and your possessions at all times, Tevi,” he explained. “But to other eyes, you are completely invisible. Beware making any noise and note your scent as neither is countered by the spell.”

As an experienced hunter, Tevi would know how to mitigate both as needed. Peter watched Tevi’s magical outline move towards and around Commander Constance as if testing the truth of his words. The experienced battle wizard sensed something and held up her hands in a defensive gesture. Still, Constance was clearly unable to see the young archer.

“This is so cool, Master!” Tevi exclaimed, causing the Commander to spin around to face the source of the noise.

“Also,” he explained. “As you can see from the Commander’s actions, some magic users can sense your latent magic if you move too close. I would keep your distance from any foes with magical powers.”

Peter continued to track Tevi as she moved to another part of the room. He noted that Mohennial Sala was tracking the younger woman’s movements from much further away than Constance, but not as accurately as he was.

“How are you following my movements, Master?” Tevi asked, noticing that he was following her movements.

“I can sense your location because it’s my magic and life force that you are using to remain invisible,” Peter replied. “The others are not able to do so as easily, nor as accurately.”

Peter had said the last while frowning toward the Mohennial. The older woman just smiled, clearly having skills he was unaware of.

“I can sense the magic Lord Bent is currently expending and can also track where it flows,” the Mohennial explained. “Peter, I would recommend that when we are around other powerful magic users, you randomly cast minor spells to distort your overall usage and emissions.”

He tried casting basic weather-sensing spells in all directions while still keeping Tevi’s invisibility up. As he did so, Sala looked around where he’d targeted the spells and soon lost track of Tevi.

“Good,” the Mohennial said. “That will do. I think we are ready to disembark. Constance, since you are familiar with our destination, you will go through first. Tevi, you go next, before Lord Bent and I follow. Tevi, as your former master advised, remain as silent as possible at all times. Watch for signals from us if we need your services as an archer.”

“I understand,” the invisible Tevi said.

Peter saw that she had moved into position just behind the Commander. Constance set her winter face mask in place, pulled up her hood, and put on her gloves. She then hefted her pulsating, crystal-tipped trident spear and nodded to Peter and Mohennial Sala before stepping through the portal.

“Go, Tevi,” Sala barked, causing the invisible half-elf to mutter an “eep!” of surprise. Tevi had been caught gawking at the Commander’s disappearance. The half-elf’s outline hesitated only a second before she followed the Commander through the portal. Sala then nodded to Peter for him to proceed next.

He pulled his hood and gloves into place before hoisting an egg in each hand. Counterbalanced like he was holding two filled water buckets, he started forward. As he struggled to get his load turned sideways to fit through the portal, he wondered morbidly what would happen if he dropped one of the eggs. Would the net keep the baby dragon inside alive? The portal activated when the bulk of his body passed between the stone pillars, and he was instantly elsewhere.

***