the Leathermines

The last Chapter was Chapter 54.  Lost?  Check out Chapter 1, or look at the Slave Warrior Chapter index page.

“He was a scout.”

Laun was propped up in the bed, surrounded by pillows, flowers and people.  The wound was sewn and hot to the touch when Pillar or Lucaris changed the dressing, the heat bringing on a low fever.  Laun did not argue when she was told she was not leaving the bed.  Though, the looks Lucaris gave to Fount and Edgar stilled any comment about any other bedroom activities.

One of the mats had been removed and many chairs had been brought in for this meeting.  There had been lots drawn from the household as to who would accompany the leaders in.  More people waited at the open door, listening to what was being said.

“He had enough hard supplies with him for about a week.  Standard issue, and he had not dipped into it much.”  Dreng was the one who had sorted out much of the hidden supplies once they found the hole the scout had made. “It was a standard issue of Midlands supplies, though there were Rosemond coins mixed in with his Midlands crown plate.”  Dreng shook his head in disbelief.

Fount was crosslegged on the bed next to Laun.  He had not left her except for a few privy breaks since they had found her in the woods.  He had one of her hands and squeezed it.  “It looks like he was the only one.  We are only letting people out in teams at this point.”  He squeezed again.  “We think he slipped by in the night during the wind storm.”

Laun was frowning.  “If one can get in-  Could you find any trail?”

Edgar was leaning on the edge of the bed, his arms across his chest as he spoke.  “Some, but we know that the crap traps are working.”  There was a wave of chortles in the room and outside.  “His boots were covered with it.”

Geralk motioned and Laun’s attention went to him.  “He had a few rough sketches of the area in his pack.  They looked like they were from an old map.  It didn’t even have the Grey on it.”  Laun smiled slightly.  “He also had a badly coded list of people to contact and a few other bits of information.  He was definitely from Falmir.”

“The body?”  Laun suddenly felt tense.  She needed to know how the body was disposed of.

Edgar pulled back his lips, but it was not in a smile.  “We have a team taking him to the river.  We are hoping dumping him in will hide that he got this far.”

Laun inclined her head and said, “And leave the message that they do not have free reign in this area.”  She breathed in and the pain that had been a dull throb in her belly spiked.  She closed her eyes and gripped at Fount’s hand until the pain went down, but not away.

Edgar reached over and found her foot under the covers.  “You had the bad luck this time.”

She shook her head and said, “I am still alive, and he isn’t.  Who is the luckier one?”

“We can’t just sit here!”  That was Dougal.  He had been fuming in his chair since he sat down.  His tongue must have been cut in half with the way he was biting it throughout the meeting.  “If they are sending people to us, that means that they know we are here.  We need to go after them first!”

Dreng turned on his Grandson and roared, “With how many of the household?”  The King drew himself up off his chair and loomed over the man.  “We know he has the backing of the damned Rosemonds!  How many troops do you think is headed our way?  A company for every man?  A battalion for every woman?  How many can you take out?”  Dreng looked like he wanted to pace or storm out, but he was caught between several of the seated nobles.  He fumed in place and sat with a thump.

Laun remembered back to when she had blown up at Dreng about breaking the household off for fighting.  She looked down and felt bad because she knew he had hoped for more of the loyalists to find them before now.  She looked up again and had missed a question.

“...for the next few weeks?”  Garalk was looking at her and then at Fount and Edgar.

Laun shook her head.  “I’m sorry.  I seem to be drifting.  I have no idea what you just said.”

Dreng nodded and took command.  “We can continue the detail work in the Great Hall.  Everybody out!”

There was a crush of people trying to move, and then there were people taking the chairs out.  And then there were people setting up a small sideboard with trenchers and pitchers, and then there were people moving the mat back on the floor.

It was a good half of an hour before Laun was ‘alone’.  She still had several people with her, most who had never left while the chaos had been swirling around them.  Fount still sat next to her, holding her hand.  Edgar now sat on the bed, his hand over a portion of her covered leg.  Ali sat next to her on the floor, just outside of her reach.  Lucaris was there, waiting to attend to the wound, hand around Disa’s beside her.  Laun knew more were still waiting outside.

Laun was tired.  Laun was in several types of pain.  She could hardly breathe without a shock of some sort to catch her.  Beyond that, she was in a good mood.

She smiled at the people around her.  She even smiled when Lucaris pulled back the robe and started to change the dressing on her side.  She winced as the blood dried to the bandage pulled, but it was not as bad as other pains she had endured.

“How long do you think I will have to stay in bed?”  Laun was watching as the shaman cleaned around the wound.

Lucaris had none of the bravado she used to distract people.  “It depends on how your body heals this.”  She looked up and was very serious.  “I hope that we were able to sew you up in time, but I don’t like the heat coming from the wound.  He may have nicked something inside.”

Laun sort of understood.  She remembered years before when there had been an accident and one of the wardsmen had been injured with a piece of something through his gut.  She had not seen him while he was sick, but was told when they buried him that his insides had been damaged and made him die.  She also remembered several animals she had to clean over the years in the kitchen that had been infected somehow inside.  It was not pleasant.

“Give me your worst medicines.  I can’t-”

“You will be here for as long as it takes, Lady.”

Laun had another jolt.  “Our prisoner...?”

Fount and Edgar looked at each other.  Edgar said, “He is eating when we give him food.  He is cleaning himself when we give him soap.  He is not talking, except to ask for you.”

Laun nodded.  She sighed and seemed to go limp.  “Too many things to keep track of.”

The shaman saw the energy start to fade from their Lady and started to motion people out of the room.  Fount refused to move and Edgar also seemed to have rocks in his feet.  The three of them were left.  A silence came over the room as the men did not know if they could say anything.

Laun reached for one of the sedums that had been put into bundles on her bed as goodwill offerings.  It was already wilting, but Laun appreciated the hand that had cut and bundled them.  She felt a little light headed and felt her grasp on Fount slip.

He did too and he reached for her as she started to tip sideways.  Edgar also went for her shoulder and tried to prop her up.

“I think I should lay down.”  Laun was already sliding before her men started to help her get further down under the covers.  Pillows were moved and a cold cloth was on her forehead.  She felt better on her back, but also knew she was not well.

The men wanted to talk.  To her.  To each other.  They did not know how to start.  Fount stretched out one of his legs and leaned back against the headboard of the bed.  Edgar made a decision and went around the bed and sat on the edge next to the younger man.

“This is getting critical.  They are too close.”

Fount nodded.  “We don’t have the manpower to get everything done.”  He looked over to Laun, her eyes closed and her face flushed.  “Or the woman power.”

Edgar hesitated, but then put his hand on Fount’s leg.  “There is a chance she may turn bad.”

Fount nodded, still looking at Laun.  “I don’t know if I can handle this.  One or the other-”

“I know.”  Edgar looked at the pain in the younger man’s face.  He felt it too, but he had schooled himself over the years to not show much of what was under the surface.  War was one thing, shocking after all the years of structured peace.  Laun constantly getting herself into trouble, and injured.  Both were bad.  With the conflict of war headed towards them and Laun having taken the brunt of the first real battle...

Fount had let a tear flow from one eye and was scrubbing it off on the back of his hand.  Edgar still had his boots on and suddenly found he needed them off.  He pulled on them and almost threw them onto the second mat below him.  He ignored the belt with pouches and knives on his hips and went to Fount.

The younger man was not sure what was happening as the older wardsman was in a flurry of activity and then had his arm around him.  He jumped in his skin slightly, but then found that he was comforted and crying.  He was not the only one.  Edgar was letting down his guard more than he had ever done.  They both had their hands around one of Laun’s as she lay in a fevered sleep next to them.  The older man held Fount close as they both let emotions that had been building out.

Then Edgar started talking.  Fount turned towards him and found his head was on Edgar’s shoulder, listening to the low voice.  He talked about how Laun was strong.  How she was going to be well.  Fount found it was calming, the low tones Edgar was using.  Edgar talked of how the household was well, and that they were well.  And then after the calm, there was a bit of a thrill.  The deep voice talked about how they had to be firm for her, how they had to be one for her.  And then.

Their hands pulled off of Laun’s, but still together.  They twined as Fount and Edgar’s mouths came close.  Edgar was still talking, it did not matter that he was saying anything about how Laun cared for them and loved them and that they loved her.  The way he was saying it, it vibrated through Fount and made him want to...

The kiss between them was a first for them.  It was not tentative.  It was not cautious.  It was deep and probing and lasted until both of them felt the burn of the other’s stubble on their lips.

Fount’s eyes were wide as they paused.  Their lips were still touching, the brush of them together hot and wet.  He felt a need, but did not know how to pursue it.  But, Edgar was still there, holding him, looking at him with something like a need like his own.  Fount breathed in and whispered into Edgars’ mouth, “Now I know what she means.”

Edgar smiled.  “You know the rules...  Only if you want-”

Fount cut Edgar off by pressing his mouth hungrily to the older man’s.  His hand was on the back of Edgar’s head, pressing in and showing his acceptance.

They were both ready for anything when they broke away from each other.  Fount had a mental twinge he had to deal with before they went any further.  “Is it right to...do anything with Laun beside us?”

Edgar looked over and nodded, seeming serious until he said, “We should move to the lower mat.”  He smiled and they did as he suggested.

Both of them were naked on the mat, blankets and pillows pushed to the sides of them.  They had always been around men, knew what they looked like.  Had seen each other excited.  Had seen each other fucking and sucking women and were used to it.  Had even planned things together.  Laying together, just them, it was… different.

Edgar looked at the broad chest of Fount, the strong muscles he knew were there, twitching under his touch.  There was still a line of a scar that was under the fine black hair growing on the younger man’s chest.  Edgar was taking the lead and running his hands down the young man’s chest slowly, watching the eyes looking up at him as he touched nipples and the upper stomach and his upper thigh, each little change meaning a flash of heat, of desire.

Fount tried to mirror the older man’s touches.  His hand went across the smaller muscles and the line of hair on the chest.  He thought he saw Edgar’s wall come down and show a passion different from when he had watched him with Laun.  Fount brushed Edgar’s manhood with his hand and looked down.  He saw both of them, excited, and saw the differences.  Fount had been cut as an infant, his foreskin having been sacrificed to some god or another his mother worshiped.  Edgar had his foreskin and it was rolled slightly back, showing the red head beneath.

Edgar also looked down and compared.  Edgar was slightly larger lengthwise, but Fount was wider, a large vein pulsing along the side.  Edgar took ahold of Fount and felt the young man’s throb through his thumb.

Fount’s eyes closed and he held in some of his voice, but a hiss did escape.  He grabbed for Edgar and heard a grunt as he moved his foreskin down to fully expose Edgar’s head.

They held each other and felt each other and then started to move in each other’s hands.  They kissed and stroked and Fount felt that he was getting close to exploding onto his superiors’ hand.  He pulled out of the kiss and tried to talk, but found that Edgar had the upper hand in more ways than one.

Edgar moved his arm around Fount’s head and shoulders until he could press himself down into the younger man.  He forced his mouth onto and into Fount’s, silencing him.  Edgar was also close to his peak and felt how Fount’s juices were bubbling out of him, making it easier to slide his hand on the wide shaft.  Their breathing was mingled, ragged.  Edgar tightened his grip as he would do to himself and found Fount was bucking into him.  His own phallus was being stroked furiously, the head under the foreskin getting most of the attention.

Edgar’s back bowed and he felt the tightening in his balls as the first of his seed came spurting out.  He was having problems keeping ahold of Fount, but he soon had a warm, wet feeling on his own hand as the younger man thrust into him.  They both tried to be quiet, but they growled and called into each other.  They had a mingled breath as their fluids mingled on their bellies, the warm turning cold in the tower room’s air.

They panted as they held onto each other’s softening manhood.  Edgar gently kissed the rough-edged lips of Fount and felt it was good.  He went to lift his hand and it was a different feeling from when he touched himself - the come was different and he still had a hand on himself, even though he had moved.  Edgar moved slightly and Fount’s hand slipped off of him, a sensation that was both good and bad as his foreskin went back over.

Fount was breathing heavily and closed his eyes.  It had felt good, but there was something wrong about it.  If there was a man he could love, it would be Edgar, and not just for Launs’ sake.  He turned his head slightly as he panted and saw eyes.

“Shit.”

Edgar had been marveling in what had just happened and was shocked into reality by Fount’s low voice.  He looked under the bed where the younger man was looking and saw the eyes, too.

Ali had snuck back into the room while they were busy with each other.  She was laying close to the bedframe, her face pressed to the mat below her to be able to see them under the bed.  She had a look of awe on her face, but also a need that both men knew.

“Come clean us.”

She scooted around the bed and looked at them.  Their white fluids were cooling on their hands and bellies, the way the strands were flowing down their manhoods connecting them.  They were entwined, Edgar holding Fount and Fount holding Edgar.

Edgar motioned with his wet hand and Ali was on him, starting with his hand and moving to anyplace that had the salty wetness.  She licked and slurped and sucked and went down on Edgar to clean him.  She turned to Fount and happily cleaned everything she found.  Fount had to hold Ali at bay once she had cleaned him as she went down on him and he started to react.

Edgar took ahold of Ali’s hair and pulled it.  He looked into her eyes and saw her need for more.  “What do you want?”

Her eyes roved, trying to not look at him.  He pulled her up by her hair and made her have eye contact.  “I-I want your hands to do that to me again.”

Edgar smiled and glanced over to Fount.  “How are your fingers?”

He had caught his breath and was smiling.  “As long as it’s just them, I seem to have been spent otherwise.” 

Ali had her breeches pulled off of her roughly.  Ali was pulled between the two men and they started to tag-team on her.  She was not sure what to do as they tweaked her nipples on her almost not there breasts and nipped at her neck as hands slipped down between her legs into her ready slit.  Her masculine shoulders were being held down by theirs as they explored the familiar and not so familiar contours of her body.

Her body reacted intensely to all the hands and mouths and arms and pressure.  She did not know where to concentrate, could not concentrate. Her breath was coming out in little moans when she could breathe.  She could not move much with the men surrounding her and her hands went to the linen beneath them, clutching at it.

It was Fount’s hand that was in her, his thumb roving across her clit when Ali started to make noise.  She had been trembling under them, but her head went back and more than a moan was escaping.  Edgar grabbed her head and forced her mouth to quiet on his own.  She pushed her chin up as they kissed, her head still going back.  His hand went around her neck and she gasped into him.

She brought her legs up as her body convulsed, not quite trapping Fount’s hand.  The knees came in and out from each other until she stopped moving.  They fell to the sides and her body relaxed.

Edgar released Ali’s mouth and throat and saw that she had fainted from her peak.  He looked over to his partner and whispered, “You’re good.”

Fount pulled his fingers out of Ali and shrugged.  “You’re here, too.”

They pulled blankets up and Ali woke to being between the two men, gentle hands on her stomach and smiling faces looking at her.  She was embarrassed and did not want to look at either of them, but she couldn’t help it.  “Th... Thank you.”

Edgar rumbled a, “You are welcome,” into her ear which made her close her eyes for a moment.

Fount looked up.  He was listening for a moment and then said, “We should make sure her cloth is cool.”  He started to try to get up, but he was wedged too close to the bedframe and the lower mat.

Edgar shook his head.  He found Fount’s hand on Ali’s stomach and gave it a squeeze before getting out from under the blankets.  He went to his knees and looked over the bed at Laun.

Laun had rolled slightly towards them, her head on the corner of a pillow and part on one of the bouquets.  The mums in the cut flowers were under her chin, breaking into petal clumps on the linens.  She was very asleep.  Edgar could see that she was dreaming, her eyes moving and small expressions flowing over her pink face.  She looked like the girl she really was, not the woman she was forced into being when she was awake.

Edgar changed the cooling, wet cloth and she seemed to calm a little in her dreaming.  He was sitting on the edge of the bed on the door side, the other two still on the mat hidden from view. He stroked her hair as he looked at her and wondered what was going to happen.  Not just with her, but the household and the kingdom.

She sighed and moved under the covers, lips moving but no sound coming out.  Edgar put his hand on her face, his hand covering from her ear to her lips.  Her temperature was a little high, a slight sweat on her brow.  He traced her eyebrow and the side of her nose, that little lump so like Dreng’s.  Her lips were deeper in color than usual, almost like a ripe strawberry.  He drew his thumb along her bottom lip and, even in her fevered dreaming, he could see her reactions.

Edgar thought on her.  His Love, who he protected on the word of his Lady for years as she blossomed.  He had to place himself between her and several of the men of the household many times until they got the hint.  She would not have been the same if she had been taken earlier, the open disposition marred by society.  But she might have had more understanding, more confidence in herself if she had taken a lover before the Festival, before the coup.

His hand moved to her chin, her throat, feeling the fever under her skin.  He thought of the scars on that skin.  Most were fading into her, turning silvery against her tan.  He pulled the blanket down a little and moved the robe aside.  He put his hand over that scar.  The one he could not forgive himself for.

He thought back to the festival.  The Grand Stage.  The coup and the battle that erupted with the Dark ones pulling capes off to show the traitorous colors with the king’s crest on it.  Trying to get the rest of the party into the crowd and off to the household while fighting the rebels.

Being surrounded as he held Fount against the wall of haybales with one bloody hand, a sword in the other.  And then hearing the sound of bone breaking over the crowd.  The foes had all turned to see the staff flying through the air, the blue court garb on their attacker.  She had twirled, swung, winced as the impacts went through her, tearing her shoulder open again.  Laun had a look in her eye even then that frightened him.  Part red bloodlust that he could understand and part something that when she looked his direction was fiercely possessive.  He now knew she had been looking at Fount, but he had seen it and thought it was at him.

He tried to strike out at their enemy as she had them turned.  They were going after her, being crushed by her skill.  If he hadn’t hit the one man in the back with his sword, the cob would not have stumbled and his sword would not have...

Laun’s hand was over his.  She was still deep in her dreaming but she had found him.  She smiled and turned under the covers, her hand sliding away.

She would not need to know.  And if she did, he was not sure the woman she had become would be so forgiving as even a few weeks ago.  He pulled robe and covers over her, moving the crushed flowers slightly away from her.  She was pretty.  When awake, beautiful.  When she was in passion, she was glorious.  A hunter stalking her prey when with the prisoner.  The consummate host when gliding through the Great Hall.  And that whirlwind of danger when she was angry.

Right then, she was blissful, the smile still on her lips.  Edgar felt his heart race slightly as he looked at her.  It was real.  An odd situation, but real.

He did not know what she saw and understood. He had worked for his Lady Hellon to keep her as innocent as possible for years.  A pang of regret went through him for how he had  not taken the opportunities that had presented themselves, and the ones he had pushed...inappropriately.  A low laugh caught Edgar’s attention, drawing his eyes from his Lady Love.

The head Wardsman went around the bed and saw the two younger...men talking lowly and comparing their chests.  Ali was flexing and showing the ripple across her pecks, Fount holding a hand to what was a breast.  There was a smile on the younger men’s faces and that made Edgar smile.

Ali looked up and brought her arms in, a flush going through her.  Edgar crossed his arms and said, “Don’t shy-up now.  You are strong and handsome.  Unlike this knuckle dragger.”  He kicked Font’s foot.

“Hey!”  Fount tried to kick back and missed.  He had a smile, though.

There was a light scratch on the door.  A very brief pause, and then Lucaris opened the door.  She was carrying a basket full of medicines and bandages over her arm.  Edgar saw a glimpse of several people outside trying to look in before the door closed.  Lucaris glanced up and was caught partially in mid-stride.

“I hope I interrupted something.”  Lucaris put the basket on the mat beside the bed and started to unpack it.

Edgar shook his head.  “Not this time.  Have to work on your timing.”

Her eyebrow went up, but she suppressed both the comment she had on her tongue and her want to see what he was looking at on the other side of the bed.  The healer’s hand went to the cloth over the pink forehead and felt that it was more cold than warm.  She pulled the covers back on Laun and listened to the breathing of the asleep Lady.

“She seems to have broken her fever.  If she is like she was with the sickness, she will be up and trying to be at morning meeting tomorrow.”

Edgar nodded, a serious look in his eye.  “I do not like asking this, but is there an elixir you can give her to keep her under for another day or so?”

Lucaris looked at the naked wardsman and squinted at him.  “Yes.”  She pulled the covers back over Laun and stood, her own arms crossing her chest as she said, “But there are consequences to drugging her.  Right now, with her healing quickly, I do not want to risk having her drugged enough not to respond to us.”

A low comment came from the other side of the bed that she could hear the tone of, but not what was said.  Edgar turned and shrugged at the speaker and then looked at Lucaris.  “Waiting til morning and seeing how she is doing would be good.  The winter and the battle are both looming and you are right, shaman, even in pain, she needs to be awake and aware on her own.”

“Good.  I am going to give her something tonight to help with some of the remaining heat, but I think she will be good in the morning.  Not well, but good.”  Lucaris worked on the wound, wiped down the layer of sweat from her Lady and used a few drops of willow and flax on Laun’s lips to help with her fever.  She started to pack up her supplies when she heard a low laugh from the other side of the bed.

The curiosity overtook her and Lucaris bounced around the bed to the other side, catching Fount in an odd position trying to show Ali something on the bottom of his foot.    Ali went to pull the cover more over her, even though what she wanted to conceal was already under the quilt.

“Nevermind about that, I’ve known for ages.”  Lucaris waved at Ali who stopped pulling up the cover.  “What did I say about bed activities?”

Edgar looked down and seemed slightly embarrassed, but said, “Actually, you didn’t.  We weren’t in the bed.”

Lucaris blustered for a moment, some of it for show.  “I should saltpetre your food!  That would show you.  The women in this household would get some rest.”

Edgar turned his head and smiled at the healer, saying, “From what I’ve seen, You may have to dose yourself, too.”

Lucaris turned bright pink.  “Well, there is that...”  She turned and went to finish packing her medicines.  The basket was over her arm and she was at the door before she spoke again.  “Keep an eye on her.  The cloths may not be needed in a few hours.”

Edgar had sat on the edge of the bed, turned so that he could see Laun as well as the two at his feet.  He nodded at the shaman before she turned and left.

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