Tales of Erogenia: Book 1 - Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The Vow

Zenaria crouched low beneath the snow-laden spruce boughs. She was cold and stiff after more than an hour of waiting, but a single careless movement would send a cascade of snow down her neck and almost certainly reveal her position to the hunters. She was well hidden, her raven wing hair and drab winter clothing blending in well with the shadows of the spruce.

They were very close now, close enough that she could hear their breathing and the crunch of the snow beneath their feet. Just a few steps more and then she would ...

"Ahhh!" The compacted ball of snow struck the base of her skull, sending shards of ice and snow down the back of her neck. It didn't hurt much, but the sudden shock caused her to cry out in surprise and dismay.

"Gotcha! Knew you'd be there. You always hide in the most obvious places. Stupid girl!"

Zenaria leaped furiously from her hiding place, her young face twisted in anger. Facing her was her cousin, Vander, her senior by two moons and someone for whom she had developed an intense dislike.

Vander laughed at her and then made a face, mocking her angry frown. "What's the matter, princess, angry because one of your loyal subjects dared to dump snow down your royal back?

Zenaria's already red face turned a darker shade of crimson as she realized that her reaction was not at all appropriate for one possessed of royal blood. Turning away she picked up the wooden practice spear she had intended to use on her pretend enemies. The incident was over and it might have stayed that way had not Vander's two older brothers chosen that moment to show up.

"What's the matter, brother?" Garrod, the older of the two asked. He was nineteen and the eldest. Zenaria knew him as an arrogant lout who lorded it over those he considered his social inferior, which included anyone who could not match his skills as a warrior. Regrettably Garrod was good. Very very good. In fact there had not been a young warrior like him within recent memory. Even the battle-scarred veterans were careful not to challenge him. Fortunately respect for one's elders was something that was deeply ingrained in all members of the Snow Leopard tribe and it was a convention that even Garrod observed.

"The princess just threw a hissy fit because I dared to dump snow down her scrawny neck," Vander sneered. "Now I expect she's going home to her mother."

Zenaria looked around for Preed, the veteran warrior who was in charge of the younger warriors in the training exercise. She desperately wanted a reason to get away from Zander and his brothers. Nothing good could come of being anywhere near them. But Preed was nowhere to be seen.

"Is that so, princess?" Garrod asked. He was careful to use her title, but made the word sound as if he was referring to one of the scavenging dogs that followed the tribe.

"No, it is not so," Zenaria answered. She kept her voice level, conscious of maintaining his dignity this time. "I am looking for Preed, waiting to continue my training."

"You mean looking to hide behind a real warrior?" Garrod sneered, losing little time in joining his brother in mocking Zenaria. Like any bully he was in his element when surrounded by an admiring audience and ridiculing someone he perceived as a soft target. And Zenaria was just that. Bound by her duty to uphold her honour as a Princess of the Snow Leopard tribe, she could not respond without lowering herself to the level of her tormentors. Instead she stepped forward, intending to move away from Garrod and the others.

"Uuhh!" She almost slammed into Garrod's chest as he stepped in front of her. Stepping back she drew herself up to her full five-foot-ten inches, raised her head and fixed her brilliant amber-green eyes on Garrod. "Get out of my way," she commanded.

"Ah, her royal highness speaks," Garrod laughed. "What is the matter, princess are you frightened of my manhood?"

"You have about as much manhood as a gelding," Zenaria retorted, "and about as much courage as a weasel."

It was a mistake and she knew it the moment the words burst from her mouth, especially when he remark was greeted by a gale of laughter by the men and boys who had gathered to watch the confrontation.

"She got you there, Garrod," Vander chortled, pleased to see his older brother discomfited for a change.

"Shut up," Garrod snarled. Then he whirled on Zenaria, his features twisted with rage. "You will soon see my manhood, princess. And you will be begging me to put it inside you."

"Neither you nor any man will have me," Zenaria returned. Her comment was foolish in light of the sexually liberal attitudes of her tribe. She might just as well have stated that she was about to cut off her nose to mar her considerable beauty.

Her remark elicited loud guffaws from the surrounding male warriors. "What, princess, are you about to offer yourself as a Moon Virgin?" Garrod asked incredulously.

Well might he ask. No member of the Snow Leopard tribe had seen fit to take that drastic step within living memory and Zenaria was not about to do it either. But her next statement only made matters worse. "Only one who can best me in combat may have me," she blurted out.

At that moment a deep voice interrupted. "What is going on here? Why have you abandoned your training?" A tall warrior strode into view. In his mid-forties, the warrior was still an impressive figure, his dark hair tinged with grey, and his face marked with the ritual scars of manhood. All of the young warriors, even Garrod stepped back and eyed him respectfully.

Vander, however, could not resist just one last jibe as he moved behind his older brother. "Princess Zenaria just pledged herself to the Path of the Snow Leopard."

Preed looked at her sharply. "Princess is this true?"

Zenaria shook her head, the action freeing the single braid that bound her hair, sending the midnight tresses whirling about her head. "No," she stammered, "I mean. It was not a pledge I just said..."

"Tell me," Preed interrupted, pointing to one of the younger warriors. He listened and a minute later waved his hand dismissing the now dozen or so warriors that had gathered around Zenaria. "The lesson is over."

"Princess," he said, turning to Zenaria. "You had better come with me."

Zenaria jogged through the knee-deep snow behind Preed. Still farther back she could hear the sniggering of Vander and the occasional forced laugh from Garrod. They were clearly enjoying her discomfiture.

They entered the winding stockade. It was constructed of massive tree trunks set into the earth in a spiral pattern so that anyone entering had to wind their way into the settlement between two parallel wooden walls set about five feet apart. It was just wide enough for the passage of one of the two-wheeled carts the Snow Leopard tribe used as its primary form of transport.

Inside the stockade was an open compound about three hundred feet across. Lining the inner wall were the dwellings of the tribe's inhabitants. Immediately to Zenaria's right was the longhouse where the unmarried male warriors lived. To her right was a similar building where dwelt the female warriors. Farther back were houses for those couples who considered themselves lovebonded along with separate shelters for young boys and girls who had left their parents for warrior training, but who were as yet too young to engage in sexual activity. It was in the one housing the maidens that Zenaria dwelt, but for the moment she was not going there. Instead she followed Preed toward one of the few buildings not set against the stockade.

It was the largest building in the compound, and the only one that was more than a single story. Smoke from dozens of hearth fires rose into the air. There were a number of people about, going about their daily routine. Some went to the well for water, while over in one corner a two score warriors went through the repetitive drills that prepared them for war. A cart laden with butchered meat was pushed toward the cookhouse by two young boys and an older girl, and in another corner the hammer of the blacksmith rang cloud and clear in the chill air as he pounded metal.

Zenaria hardly noticed these activities as she followed Preed. He mind was awhirl. Why had she blurted out such a stupid oath? Self-imposed celibacy was the last thing she wanted. She had been quite looking forward to her first sexual experience and had already chosen the lucky young warrior who would do the deed. The very thought made her breasts tingle and created an ache in her loins.

But they were there now, standing in front of the palace, although 'palace' might have been too grand a term to describe a wooden structure only three stories high and with a frontage barely thirty yards across. Inside it was a bit more impressive. The grand entry hall was dug ten feet into the ground and large enough to house all of the adult warriors in the settlement. The walls arched into a high vault forty feet about a floor that was planked with carefully sawn and polished boards.

Rising from the floor was a dais where stood two ornately carved wooden thrones. They were both empty now, one permanently so. It had once been occupied by Zenaria's father, Zennar, but he had been killed in an ambush during an expedition into the Urtt lands. The other throne was that of Zenaria's mother, Cirilia, but she sat in it only during a tribal council. Zenaria and Preed walked though the large chamber, crossing to the other side and climbing a stair behind the throne to the second floor. It was on the second floor that the queen of the Snow Leopard tribe had her quarters.

Without hesitation Preed led the way up the stairs to the second floor and entered a short hallway. Just outside the door were two young women. Neither had yet experienced her moon and neither would have been a match for either Preed or Zenaria, but they were all the guard the queen had. Was she not safe in the midst of all her warriors?

The girls looked up. Both had been working skins into lined winter boots and their faces lit up when they saw the two warriors. "Preed, Zenaria," they smiled.

"Good morning, maidens. Is the queen within?"

"Yes, Preed," the girls giggled. Without further comment they stepped aside and pushed on the door. Preed leading and Zenaria following, they stepped into the queen's quarters.

It was a large room, and one that Zenaria knew well. Against one wall was a large wardrobe containing the various items of clothing befitting a queen of the Snow Leopard tribe. Various weapons and animal skins decorated the walls and one wall was given over to a massive stone fireplace, the only one of its kind Zenaria had ever seen. A roaring fire sent waves of heat into the room and the queen and her ladies wore only light articles of clothing.

Queen Cirilia was seated with three other woman of about her age before the fire. Like the two girls in the hall all of the women were occupied with some sort of craft work, although Queen Cirilia's particular effort was fashioning a leather grip for a knife as long as her forearm. She looked up with a brilliant smile as she spotted Zenaria, but it quickly faded when she saw the look on Preed's face.

"What is it, Preed?" she asked getting to her feet. Queen Cirilia was a magnificent woman. She stood six-foot-three and gave some indication of the tremendous beauty Zenaria would one day become. Her gleaming obsidian hair hung to her waist and was unbound, swirling around her hips as she moved. Dressed only in summer attire her taut belly was bare, her narrow waist accentuating large, perfect breasts that swayed gently as she moved. Covered by the softest doeskin, her nipples were clearly visible beneath the brief coving that contained her breasts.

Just twenty-seven years of age, her bonding with Zenaria's father had been a lovematch and neither partner had ever known another. Zenaria was conceived when Cirilia was barely sixteen and then Zennar had been killed. Cirilia had never chosen another lovebond although she had not shunned what had seemed to Zenaria to be an almost endless procession of lovers. The look she had given Preed spoke of more than just a casual acquaintance with the warrior, but just now her gaze was turned toward Zenaria.

"My queen," Preed began, "it appears that your daughter has made a most rash comment." He proceeded to explain what he had learned.

Queen Cirilia turned to Zenaria after Preed had finished. "Is it true, my daughter? Did you indeed promise to take the Path of the Snow Leopard?"

Zenaria stood head bowed. "It was not what I intended," she answered softly. Then she raised her head and looked into her mother's deep blue eyes. "But yes I did."

"Then you have chosen your path," Cirilia replied, "and you must live with it."

Zenaria nodded. Slowly, head still held high, she turned and left her mother's apartments. Inside her mind and body churned with emotion. With one careless outburst she had changed her life forever.

Preed and Cirilia watched her go, then Preed turned to Cirilia. "My queen," he said, saluting with his hand over his heart. He turned to go.

"No Preed," Cirilia said softly. "You stay. Share the warmth."

Preed nodded, a wide smile spreading across his features. "Yes, my queen," he answered.

Continued in Chapter 2

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