Feature Writer: Phineas
Feature Title: WARLOCK 9
Published: 05.04.2021
Story Codes: Erotic Horror
Synopsis: On the road again until Jennaca has a better idea. Of course the soldiers of Khalas might have other ideas…
Warlock 9
No sex here, just the aftermath of what John did on accident and how it might affect them all down the road. Oh, and the people hunting them down with orders to kill them.
John sat up from his bedroll and saw the fire was burning low. A stick hanging high over the fire was skewered through some cooked meat pale with roots stuffed in holes cut through it. Above the skewer the sky was purple and pink as the sun rose in the east.
John looked around and saw Zynga sitting near him. Artesia was readying the wagon and Corsa was watching Jennaca wrestling with Sasha. John stiffened and started to rise when he saw the young woman and mighty cat were only playing. She dodged his swipes or used them to launch her into rolls and somersaults that she bounded up from. Her hands slapped at his legs and sometimes his face or side, landing strikes as often as he was able to catch her. He gasped when Sasha caught Jennaca’s arm in his mouth once. Instead of ripping it off he held it gently, his teeth not puncturing the flesh.
“Eat,” Zynga said. “You can drool later.”
John snapped his head around. “How long have they been at this?”
“A while. You slept in.”
John frowned. “I don’t need that much sleep anymore…”
“You did today,” Zynga said. “You need to be careful with that one… you formed a bond with her. It will take a year for it to break.”
“A year?” John gasped.
“Don’t blame me, I’m not the one who forgot to take his dick out in time.”
“I was… phew,” John sighed. “Why a year?”
Zynga shrugged. “That’s the standard minor contract length if there are no terms provided.”
“Contract? I have a contract with her?”
“Duh… you’re part infernal now, remember?”
John swore. He thought of Mistress Beytrixxa and swore again. “Will Mistress be upset?”
Zynga chuckled. “You’ll have to ask her yourself.”
John winced. “Come on, tell me!”
Zynga’s grin turned into a pout. “Fine. No, she’s not upset. But she’ll tell you what I did. Be careful. You’re not beholden to the girl, only bonded to her. Next time set terms before sealing the contract and you can do more with it. As it is, you can take power from her and she can take it from you.”
“I can? Wait — She can?”
“If you teach her how,” Zynga added.
John turned and stared at the athletic young woman. He shook his head and said, “I’ll be sure not to teach her then.”
“Wise… for now.”
John frowned and reached for the stick. “This is mine then?”
“Artesia’s snares worked well. Jennaca added some kind of local root she found to season them. The girls liked it.”
John tested the meat. It was hot but it didn’t bother him. He took a bite of meat and was rewarded with a crunch of a root shaving that was almost mushy. The bland rabbit meat held the sweetness of the root well, surprising him. John grunted around the mouthful of meat and found himself finishing it before he was ready to be done.
“The wagon’s getting crowded,” Zynga pointed out after he finished eating.
“I hadn’t expected to take on so much cargo,” John admitted. “Perhaps Jennaca could get a horse in Meelak.”
Zynga giggled and said, “She’d rather ride you!”
John sighed. “What’s with her, anyhow? She looks normal enough to me, but her soul is something else… or there’s something else going on with her.”
“Some rare people are like that,” Zynga said. “Nobody knows why, they’re just touched by greater powers. Usually they end up gathering around each other. All those people she prattles on about, friends and family and blah, blah, blah? I’d wager every one of them is special like here. That’s another reason Mistress won’t be mad about her. If you can bring someone like her into your fold it will help you and her considerably. The more special souls she has working for her, the better.”
John nodded and turned to look at Jennaca. She was lying on her back in the trampled grass and Sasha was lying beside her, one heavy paw on her bare stomach.
“Hey!” John snapped and swung his head back around. “Are there other special souls? Is mine like Jennaca’s?”
Zynga sighed in disgust and muttered, “Damn.”
John straightened his back and smiled. “That explains a few things. I always wondered why me. I’m sure there are many reasons, but it’s good to know one.”
Zynga stuck her tongue out at him and rose. She turned her back on him and walked to the wagon so she could climb up on the seat and wait for the rest of them.
John chuckled and was about to kick out the fire. He stopped and studied it. He’d glimpsed things in the fire last night. He thought of the spell he’d been learning and traced out the form to it that would do what he wanted. He incanted the words with the proper inflections and watched the pattern fill with magic and then settle onto the fire. The flames flickered and died down, looking to the mundane as though it was simply going out. John saw the spell absorb the fire and heat from the logs and coals. When it was out at last the spell form fell apart, it’s purpose served.
John smiled. It was a simple spell and he’d made far too much work out of it, but it has worked exactly as he expected. A regular apprentice would spend days, if not weeks, working through mistakes and perfecting the casting.
Jennaca sat up and ruffled Sasha’s fur. She climbed to her feet and jogged over. To her credit, her breasts barely budged in their tight casing. She came straight to John and waved at him when she got close. “The girls say you slept in, hope I didn’t wear you out last night.”
John chuckled. “It was a long day and before you showed up Artesia beat me up thoroughly. She’s teaching me how to use my spear.”
“Oh! Good, everyone should know how to defend themselves. Even wizards… Warlocks too, I suppose.”
John smirked.
“If you need help let me know, I’d be happy to beat you up some too.”
“Up or off?” Zynga called.
Jennaca frowned and looked to John. “What’s she mean? Why would I beat you off? Would you attack me for real?”
John shook his head. “She’s… odd. Her culture has some maxims and beliefs that would seem unusual to us.”
Jennaca considered and nodded. “I’ve never met a halfling before, I suppose that makes sense.”
“Oh, she’s not a halfling,” John said.
Jennaca’s head snapped back and forth between Zynga and John twice before she settled on him. “She looks like one. She’s no dwarf, that’s for sure.”
“She disguised as a halfling,” John said. “Magic… Zynga’s actually my familiar. She’s an imp.”
“An imp?” Jennaca hissed. “Kar never had anything nice to say about imps.”
“I bet he didn’t,” John agreed. “She’s useful, but loves when things go a little bit crazy.”
“I’m sure you can keep her in line,” Jennaca said. She grinned at him and then turned to where Corsa and Artesia had loaded the half full barrel back into the wagon and were now securing the fence. “I didn’t notice last night… are they sisters?”
John chuckled and motioned for her to walk with him. He led her to the wagon and waited for the women to finish. “Jennaca noticed something this morning…”
Jennaca saw John was waiting for her to take over. She smiled and asked, “Are you two related? You look like sisters. That’s rare, from what I’ve heard. I don’t know many elves though, so maybe it’s not. Unc— Namitus is half elven too. He says it’s very rare that a half elf is born. I know sand elves are a little different from normal elves though. They have children as often as humans do, or they can, at least. But that’s only with other sand elves.”
Jennaca took a breath and looked around at all of them. She grinned and said, “Sorry, you probably knew all that already.”
“We’re not sisters,” Artesia said and walked around them and climbed up onto the front of the wagon.
“Oh… well, you could be. You’re both very pretty.”
Zynga snickered.
Jennaca glanced at the imp and then turned to John. “I said something wrong, didn’t I.”
“Artesia’s a private woman,” John explained. “None of us know very much about her. When I asked her if she was half-elven she insisted her parents were human.”
Jennaca nodded. “Thank you… I’ll try not to upset her again.”
“I’m sure it will be fine,” John said. He walked up to the wagon and climbed up and sat on the outside edge of the bench. He looked around and frowned, there wasn’t much room left. Room enough to squeeze in one more body but they’d be bumping elbows and hips. “We’re a little tight on space at the moment in the wagon, if you—”
Jennaca waved him quiet. “Oh, don’t worry about that, I’ll walk. Or run… if you’re wagon can keep up with us.”
“All day?”
She nodded. “Yeah, why not?”
John grunted. “You’re something else.”
She grinned and winked at him before ruffling Sasha’s fur and standing beside the wagon.
“You’re going to walk?” Artesia asked.
“I am,” Jennaca said. “I’m sorry if I upset you earlier.”
“You didn’t.”
Jennaca waited and then nodded. “Okay… good! Are we ready then? Where are going, anyhow? Dilly? That’s on the coast to the north, right? Yes, that’s right, in the swamp at the foot of the bay.”
“The foot?” John asked.
Jennaca grinned and said, “Well, the mouth is where it opens to the sea, right? Dilly’s about as far from that as possible, so the foot.”
“Indeed,” John mused. He shrugged. “Why not. The foot of the bay it is.”
Corsa stood next to Jennaca and waved at John.
“What do you need?” he asked her.
Corsa squinted and then pointed at herself, then at Jennaca, then she held two fingers pointed down and wiggled them back and forth just like two legs walking.
“You’re going to walk with Jennaca?”
She smiled and nodded. She pointed at the sun and then faked a yawn.
“At least until you get tired… okay,” John said. “Anytime you want you can join us.”
She smiled and nodded before turning and seeing Jennaca studying her with a gleam in her eyes.
“Oh, you’re going to love this. I’ll point out things along the way… stop me if I’m boring you though, all right?”
Corsa nodded.
“You know, we really should do something about your hair,” Jennaca said as Artesia snapped the reins and started Germaine moving the wagon. She angled it down the hill and back to the main road.
Corsa reached up and touched her hair. She pulled it around her shoulder where she’d tied it into a pony tail. Just belong her neck the blond was stained with the wine, giving it a pink tint that matched her skin below her neck.
“You have pretty hair,” the woman said, “But from what I heard of your situation it might help to darken it. Plus it’s two colors right now. That will stand out to anyone looking.”
Corsa mimed throwing a hood over her head.
“Oh sure, you could hide it, but it’s still there.”
Corse nodded and stroked her hair as she thought about it.
“With the wine I know of some things we can use to make a dye,” Jennaca offered. “Berries, roots, some insects… I know, it sounds dreadful but trust me.”
Corsa hesitated and then nodded again.
Jennaca clapped her hands and grinned. “Great! I’ll gather what I need today and tonight we can fix you up.”
“Good idea,” John said. “We’ve got a long day ahead of us. Probably a hot one, let me know when you guys need a break or want to ride.”
“I was thinking,” Jennaca said.
Zynga sighed to the right of John.
Between Zynga and John Artesia stifled a chuckle.
“If you want to go to Dilly, why not go to Dilly?”
“Um, we are,” John said.
“Oh, right! I know… sorry,” the vivacious young woman said. “It’s just, you’re not going very straight, are you? The main road goes through what, two or three different cities before it leads to Dilly.”
“Funny thing about roads, they don’t really care how fast or direct you want to get somewhere,” John pointed out.
“That’s very true,” Jennaca agreed. “So why bother with it at all?”
Artesia snorted beside him and said, “We’re in a wagon. An old, rickety wagon.”
“Old and rickety?” John cried. “So I overpaid and I bought something ready to fall apart?”
“It will do on the road,” Artesia said. “I’m no wainwright. I don’t know if it can handle traveling off the roads. We’ve done well enough, but those were smooth plains for the most part.”
“Made it up and down that hill too,” Jennaca said. “Germaine’s a fine horse. Strong enough to pull this anywhere. I can find you the best route if you let me. If I were walking, I bet I could three days off. With the wagon, I promise two, maybe two and a half.”
John considered her offer as they made their way along the road. A group of riders approached, heading south from Meelak. They slowed as they neared John’s wagon, their horses shy away and putting up a fuss. The riders spotted Sasha and more than one cried out and pointed before gesturing for the others.
“Jennaca, perhaps you should walk on the other side of the wagon?” John suggested.
She sighed and tapped Sasha on the shoulder before falling back and coming up on the side of the road. “I was thinking that. Sasha is very well mannered… but this is why I’ve stayed to the wilds as much as I have the last few months. People just don’t understand and when they don’t understand, they get afraid. That’s when they do stupid things and, sadly, get themselves hurt.”
The riders pulled off the road altogether and waited, hands on swords and one bowmen with an arrow knocked and ready to be drawn. John smiled and nodded at them as they rode by. Once the wagon was north of the four soldiers and the unarmored man they kept in the middle they moved back out of the weeds and rode on towards Khalas.
“Seems having Jennaca and Sasha with us could be very helpful,” John mused when he was sure they were out of earshot.
“One of them showed interested in Lady Corsa,” Artesia said. “They bore the standard of Khalas too.”
John winced and looked down at Corsa.
She looked up at him and then down quickly.
“Don’t worry about that,” John said. “We’ll deal with whatever we need to. I think, though, that Jennaca has the right idea.”
“You want to take the wagon off the road?” Artesia asked.
“Want, no. Need, yes. I believe we need to.”
“What could go wrong?” Zynga asked.
John frowned and turned to look back down the road behind them. The road had a few curves and bends but the riders were still visible. More than visible, they’d stopped riding away from them. “What I wouldn’t do for a nice air elemental to stir up a windstorm and send them galloping away,” John mused.
“One of Kar’s airships would do the trick nicely,” Jennaca said.
John frowned but didn’t take his eyes off the riders. “Airship? What’s that?”
“You don’t know? It’s like a voidship only it can’t go so high or sail between worlds. Much smaller too. Usually they only have a crew of one to three. Bigger ones get blown about by the wind too much. People get sick or fall off, it’s terrible.”
“Curses of the Criknids,” John swore. “They’re coming back and riding hard.”
“This wagon isn’t built for racing,” Artesia warned.
“Germaine isn’t either,” Jennaca said.
“We can’t outrun them,” John mused. He nodded as a plan began to form. “Take my lead and don’t do anything rash. I don’t want them knowing we have Lady Corsa and I don’t want Khalas sending soldiers out after us for killing them either.”
“If we kill them, no one will be left to tell who did it,” Artesia pointed out.
“Ooh!” Zynga breathed and then gave Artesia a smile.
“Will Sasha behave?” John asked.
“Oh, she’ll be a good girl, won’t you Sash?” Jennaca asked while rubbing the tiger’s neck.
Sasha yawned and let out a mini roar.
“I feel better about this,” Zynga offered.
“Lady Corsa, come here,” John said and scooted over until he bumped into Artesia. “Climb up and take my spot, I want you next to Artesia.”
Artesia tensed but said nothing. Corsa hurried over and had to hop up to grab the side and slip her foot into the rung so she could climb up. Once she was there John helped her step over him and put his hand on her hips to guide her. He’d seen her naked the night before but that didn’t prepare him for how frail she felt in his hands. He slid to the edge of the bench and took care to not make her lose her balance for fear she might break.
Once she was seated John reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a dagger. He laid it on Corsa’s thigh and held it there until she put her hand on it and took it. She looked at him, her eyes wide and confused.
“This belonged to a pirate captain. I’ve been holding onto it and its brother for a while now, just in case I needed it. Now it’s yours… in case you need it.”
Corsa’s eyes watered. She nodded and clutched the sheathed weapon to her belly before slipping it into the folds of her dress and making it disappear. She bit her lip as she looked at John and pressed her hand to her chest.
He nodded. “You’re welcome.”
Her eyes widened and she nodded, excited he’d understood.
“Told you we’d figure out how to talk,” John said. “Now let’s make sure we have enough time to learn how to have a proper conversation.”
Eyes gleaming she nodded and then turned her attention back to the road ahead of them.
“I don’t want to leave the road yet… not until we’re done with the riders,” John told Artesia.
“This isn’t a good place anyhow,” Jennaca said.
“Up ahead, almost an hour’s ride, the rode turns to the left. We should leave it there and head to the north. We’ll be on open plains for a few hours but then there are some nice forests we can hide in.”
“With a wagon,” Artesia grumbled.
“With a wagon,” Jennaca agreed, her smile ever present.
They rode in silence, with John fighting the urge to turn and look behind constantly. “You there, merchant! Hold up a moment.”
John turned and looked back. The riders were nearly upon them. As John turned he began to make out the sound of the horses hooves striking the ground. Their mouths were open as they were breathing hard, but not so hard they were winded or blowing foam.
“Let’s stop,” John said.
Artesia pulled on the reins and brought the wagon to a stop. The soldiers of Khalas rode up and veered wide to the left of the wagon, as far from Sasha as possible. Two of them stopped ahead of Germaine while the other two remained on either side of the man wearing a burgundy tabard over a his clothes. The tabard bore the standard of Khalas, a bull standing over a pile of ore.
“You there, where are you bound?” the man asked.
“North,” John said. “Then west. I’m looking to sell the fine Khalas Red as far as I can from Khalas so it fetches good coin.”
“That’s a lot guards for a load of wine,” the Khalas man said.
“Those aren’t guards, they’re women… all of them!” one of the soldiers pointed out.
John chuckled. “Now now, let’s try to show some respect, please. Do you think a scullery maid could have tamed a ferocious tiger? Or the one driving my wagon, she was a prized gladiator before I bought her.”
“What of the other two… no just this one here. Is that blond hair under that hood?” the man demanded.
John turned and swung a foot out so his heel was on the rung. His spear was tucked just inside the edge of the wagon so it would come to him quickly if, or when, he summoned it. “Pardon me, but who are you to bother us on the open road?”
The guards shifted and one laid a hand on his sword. One of the guards in front of the wagon had his bow ready and his eyes on Sasha.
“A woman was taken from Khalas. A woman that matches the description of this one.”
“I see,” John said. “Assuming that’s my problem in the first place, what is this woman’s description?”
“Half-elven woman with blond hair,” he said. He turned to look at Corsa directly, “What’s your name, girl?”
“Her name is Zephira, but that, too, is the extent of my patience. She is the sister of my gladiatrix. A two for one deal. Taresia drives my wagon and serves as my woman-at-arms. Zephira cooks, cleans, and tends to my other needs. Knowing this, surely you realize you’ve made a mistake and you’re done slowing me down.”
The guards looked to one another and the man in charge hesitated. His horse even took a step back as though he knew better than to push the issue. The man glanced at Artesia and then Corsa again before he took in a deep breath.
“Khalas claims the land a day’s ride from the city in all directions. You’re going to need to turn that wagon around and come back with us so she can be properly inspected. If your story proves true you can be on your way.”
“With wine that’s been sitting in the sun for an extra two days? I think not. We rode yesterday for a day, we’re beyond your borders. Turn around and leave us be.”
“The day’s ride counts for a man on a horse, not a man in a wagon,” the man said. He nodded to the soldiers. “Last chance, friend, turn around or—”
John stood up, one foot on the rung and the other leg bent on the plank that ran under the driver’s bench. He raised his hand and willing the dark magic into it. Black flames burst from his hand as he waved his hand in a slow circle. “No!” John growled, using more of the infernal magic to deepen and project his voice. “This is your last chance. Choose a man or I choose him for you. Choose one of your men. I’ll take their sight to prove your own blindness!”
The horses shied away from his booming voice. John let the flame build higher and waited while they fought to control their horses and reassemble.
“Don’t make the mistake of trifling with the King of Khalas, he will—”
John flung the flames and guided them through the air. They struck the archer square in the face and encompassed his entire head. He dropped his bow and howled as he grabbed for his face. He clawed and pulled, trying to pull the flames away.
The other soldiers looked on even as their horses shied again from the man’s bloodcurdling screams. The archer swayed on his saddle, off balance and panicking as his horse tried to get away from him. He tilted too far and fell from his saddle. His mount bolted, dragging the screaming man down the road to the south back toward Khalas.
Another guard turned and charged after him. The leader of the broken soldiers fought against his horse and, by the time he got it turned around, found his other guard fast on his way after the other two. He cursed and saw John standing with fresh flames wreathing his hand.
“Khalas will remember this!” the man cried before he turned and bolted after his companions.
John turned to lone soldier off the front of the wagon. His horse circled until he got it to stop facing to the north. He twisted and saw John glaring at him. John stretched his left hand and called his spear to it.
The soldier dropped the reigns to his horse and held his hands up. “Mercy! It was Squire Armand that wanted you, not us. He seeks to impress the King! Please, milord, mercy!”
John nodded and gestured with his spear for him to ride past. The soldier wasted no time and grabbed his reigns. He pulled his horse around and snapped them hard, riding off at a gallop.
As soon as he was past John called back his magic and sat back down. Zynga was grinning and chortling and even John had a smile on his face.
“That was stupid,” Artesia broke the silence.
John turned on her and saw Corsa flinch back and out of his way. He relaxed his bearing a little but still had to ask, “What was stupid?”
“They’ll ride hard all the way, probably kill half their horses. Those that make it will have a tale to tell… a tale of how they fought to reclaim the lost lady but couldn’t fight against magic. He’ll have his army after us now.”
John stiffened again. “Should I have let them take her?”
“No, we should have killed them,” Artesia said. “Gained two days on them, at the least, assuming they could track us after so long.”
“Well, we’ve got two days anyhow,” John said. “A day there and back. Not much difference and I didn’t have to kill men that didn’t deserve to be killed.”
Zynga snorted.
“As you see it, my lord,” Artesia said.
John saw he wasn’t going to get her to agree with how he handled things so he hopped off the wagon and picked up the dropped bow. He laid it in the back of the wagon and climbed back up, hoping the brief respite had calmed things down.
“Did you really steal his sight?” Jennaca asked. “That was pretty scary, you had me going. I know I’m young, but I’ve seen some pretty serious stuff. Oh! I need to tell you about Volera and—”
“Later,” John cut her off. He smiled and answered her question before she had a chance to go on, “No, I didn’t steal his sight. My… flames blind and confuse. They irritate too, which is why he was trying to pull them away.”
Zynga chuckled. “By irritate he means burns like the very fires of hell.”
Jennaca gasped. “He’s burned? His entire face— no, head?”
“They’re phantom flames. Not real. The feeling is real enough, but other than the memory of the pain, they do not burn.”
“Oh… that’s… that’s pretty amazing. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, you’ve been pretty amazing over all!”
Zynga rolled her eyes. Artesia snapped the reins and started them moving again. Corsa remained tucked back against the wagon. She clutched the dagger through her dress and risked glances at John. When he looked at her she blushed and looked away, then thought better and met his gaze. She tried a smile and put her hand to her heart again.
“You’re welcome,” he said. “And please don’t think anything I said was how I felt or thought of you. I didn’t mean any of it. I don’t own you. You or Artesia.”
Zynga chose that moment to mock him. “Taresia? How creative! At least she got a name with some thought put into it.”
John ignored her and remained focused on Corsa. “I suspect you’ve known man men like those in your life.”
She nodded.
“Show them strength and they run. Artesia’s right about one thing, that one man, Squire Armand, will seek to turn this to his advantage another way. If we meet him again, I suspect I won’t have any qualms about killing him.”
Corsa swallowed and nodded. She clutched her dagger and then looked past John to the ground. She nodded and held up a hand with her two fingers walking on air. John smiled and hopped down so she could climb out. She hurried behind and around the wagon, then came up beside Sasha and dropped her hand between the tiger’s shoulders. Sasha glanced at her and let out a content rumble before continuing on.
John returned to his bench and sighed. Artesia was mad at him. Corsa was scared of him. Zynga was… Zynga. That left Jennaca. She seemed the type to smile her way through a hurricane.
He sighed and twisted around to fetch his books from his chest. Studying magic would put his mind at ease. Or at least distract him from the troubled woman he’d surrounded himself with.
THE END OF CHAPTER NINE