The Wicked Tower - Chapter 4

Chapter 4

“Do you two always sleep so soundly?” Dellia shook Naevia’s arm. Her cousin’s stola was no longer soaked through, but still moist to the touch. The water on the floor of their cabin had drained away, hopefully finding the pumps down below. The ship listed to starboard, but not badly. “Wake up.” She punched Vel in the shoulder. Her cousins were still cuddled together. The comfort they seemed to find in each other’s arms needled at Dellia a little. She had never had siblings, and wondered if she was missing out. Then she thought of Fortinbras, shuddered, and decided it wasn’t a die she wanted cast.

“Is it breakfast?” Naevia opened her eyes. Pale sunshine angled to the battered floor from the round, dingy window. Feeling her brother’s arm around her, she snuggled back in. Warmth radiated from him all along her back.

“I don’t know about breakfast. But I was going to check on our luggage. I hope our pigeons have not drowned.” Dellia stretched out her arms with a yawn. “Do you want to come with me?”

“What?” Vel opened his eyes, realized that his sister was still in his arms and that his cousin hovered over them. He sat up quickly. “Yes, yes. I’ll help check our things.”

“Whoa.” Dellia turned her head in a show of giving him his modesty, but her eyes crept back to look at the tent in his robes. She had heard that those of giant blood were bigger than men of the Surround. “Your Grace may want to give himself a minute to settle before leaving the cabin. You could take a person’s eye out with that thing. I strongly doubt any sailors want to be accidently foisted on the end of your spear, Cousin. What say you, Naevia?”

“Oh. Oh, my.” Naevia’s pale cheeks turned red. She jumped up from the cot. “I would not be stabbed. No, never. I … we only slept like that because … well … my cot.” She pointed to the corner where the crumpled cot was wedged.

Dellia laughed with good nature. “Of course, Cousin. I would never dream that you two would … well … never mind.” She glanced back at Vel, and laughed harder when she saw how mortified the lad was. “I hope the presence of my feminine form does not cause your condition to linger.”

“No … it’s only … it’s morning … I’m sorry.” Vel turned his hips sideways, trying to hide his hardness.

“You look like you’ve been bitten by an adder.” Dellia held up her left hand and pointed at the iron ring on her finger. “Do you think I do not know the strange and involuntary habits of a man’s body? My husband has a similar morning affliction. Though, perhaps, not quite on the same magnitude.”

“Your husband. How is he?” Vel wanted Dellia to leave, but couldn’t tell her directly.

“Changing the subject, are we?” Dellia smiled. “He has new work from the crown, actually. But you would find it all quite boring.” She put her hand on Naevia’s shoulder. “Come, let us make our way to the holds. We’ll give your brother time on his own without the torment of the feminine species. Perhaps then he can calm himself.” She led Naevia to the door.

Naevia looked back at Vel and gave him a look to apologize for leaving him. She didn’t want him to think she was angry again. She caught his eye and then they were out the door and into the corridor.

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How odd a thing it was to make preparations for a wedding in the midst of all that chaos. Cassia’s family had been in Ostia Novus for centuries. She wondered if there had ever been a wife and mother among all those merchant families that had a similar tempest spring so suddenly in their lives. She shook her head and leaned back in the velvet chair. Maybe. She watched Bantia stand with her chest strap and elegant linen underwear as the seamstress measured her on the other side of the room. The woman with the measure had to stand on a stool to do her work properly, and kept clucking her tongue at Bantia’s height.

“I little less complaint, madame. Those are noble measurements you’re taking,” Cassia called across the room.

The seamstress turned toward the duchess and curtsied. “Apologies, I wasn’t aware of my own complaints. Of course, she will cut the perfect figure in her gown when I have finished. She is a beautiful, and very tall, woman.” She curtsied again.

“I don’t mind, Mother.” Bantia smiled over at Cassia. The mood around their home had lifted considerably with Gallio turning up alive and half the family on their way to find him. “She’s about her task.”

“Yes, of course. Carry on.” Cassia nodded. If her daughter was happy, Cassia was happy. And that was just the thing. She had lost her eldest, and that was a hole that would never fill. But she still had her other children, and they had each other. And her husband was a clever man, and he would elude the Vulpes. They would pave things over with the crown, whatever the trouble was. The more she thought about it, the more certain she was that, among her ancestors, she was the lucky one. They all must have faced times harder than what she currently faced. Just like the seamstress, Cassia should not complain. Even to herself.

Cassia settled further into her chair. She smoothed her stola out on her legs and watched her eldest daughter’s fitting. She would be married soon to a fine man of noble birth. She hoped they would find Naevia a man just as fine. She imagined having grandchildren around the castle and smiled.

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“There you are.” Vel heaved a sigh of relief when he saw Naevia hurrying toward him. He had to stoop to walk in the ship’s corridor, which made his progress slow. But his sister had room to spare above her head.     

“I’m sorry,” Naevia said in a hushed voice as she lifted herself on her tiptoes to embrace him. Then she held him at arm’s length to get a good look at him. He seemed more handsome every time her gaze was lucky enough to fall on him. “Dellia wanted to check everything. The birds were okay. But some of our cases were not watertight. I came back to you as soon as I thought proper.”

“Of course.” He resisted the urge to kiss her lips and kissed her forehead instead. She was a fresh spring in a barren forest. The lamplight emphasized the angles on her face and her body’s curves. “And where is our good cousin now?”

“Helping the crew? Fighting a kraken?” Naevia shrugged. “The woman cannot live without adventure.” She grasped his hands and felt that now familiar heat move into her. “Is your … um … stiffness … taken care of?” She looked around, but no one was there. The crew were either above deck, at the pumps, or sleeping off the stress of the passed storm. “Do you … need …?” She bit her bottom lip.

“I had to take care of it myself. It wouldn’t go away.” Vel felt some shame in admitting this, but he couldn’t lie to his sweet sister.

“Oh.” Her expression dropped a little. But it was for the best, if they kept at it in the boat, they would get caught. She reminded herself of her promise that they could indulge in more games once they got back to the privacy of their own library.

Vel suddenly turned and pulled on her. “But seeing you now, I feel that I maybe hadn’t done a satisfactory job.” They rushed back to their cabin. “Cousin Dellia should be busy for quite a while, don’t you think?”

“Yes, Vel.” Naevia’s heart threatened to beat out of her chest. The anticipation was almost too much. “I think we have some time.”

An hour later, they stood naked together. Naevia handled that thick pole with both hands. She felt so feminine standing next to him as they were, his penis on level with her breasts. Her small hands, moving quickly over those large, protruding veins. Her brother’s life flowed through those veins, and he had trusted it to her hands. “You are mighty, Vel. So very mighty.”

“Thank you … ah … Naevia.” Vel felt a bit awkward undressing in front of Naevia again. Vel did not have the square shoulders or the muscles of Fortinbras. He had seen the way women fawned over his older brother, and thought that wasn’t to be his destiny. But the way Naevia had looked at him, with the black of her pupils going wide and her mouth hanging open had given him courage. It was obvious that she liked what she saw. He looked down on her. Her freckled boobs shook as her arms worked him hard. His white stuff slowly slid down the slope of her heaving chest. He had cum for her once already, and she was getting him close again. His stuff also dripped from her chin and left cheek. He wanted to delay what he supposed would be his final orgasm with her on that voyage. “I should return the favor, no?”

“What?” She looked up at him in confusion, but gave a little shriek when he lifted her to a standing position on his cot. She lost her grip on his cock, but didn’t reach down for it. It was too far away and his fingers were clumsily exploring her gash. “Oh, I see.” She laughed and reached up to brush his blond hair off his forehead. He was still taller than her even as she stood on the cot. “You are always so thoughtful. Here, not like that.” She reached down to guide his hand. A finger slid in her. “Oh, yes. That’s better. Wait … no … like this.” She showed him what to do. The thought occurred to her that maybe this was too far, especially when their cabin door did not lock. But in for a pinch, in for a pile. “Aaaahhhhhhhhh.” She released his hand. He was doing fine on his own now. “Oh … oh … that feels …” She leaned forward and buried her face in his chest to stifle her screams. It wouldn’t do to bring the whole ship in there. If she let it all out, they would surely think her murdered.

“You’re shaking … Naevia.” Vel now had one finger pumping inside her and the other hand rubbed at her button. She was so warm and wet, he let his finger slide along the ridges hidden within her. He hadn’t expected there to be ridges, but that new knowledge increased the intimacy he felt between them. “You are the most lovely creature.” He removed his hands, reached around to her ass, and lifted her into the air, placing her legs over his shoulders.

“By the gods, Vel. You are … oh … my … ooooohhhhhhhhh.” She felt his mouth go to work on her. He had learned quite a lot the previous day. Her back pressed up against the wall and she had to turn her head sideways as her shoulders bumped the rough ceiling. She stuck her fist in her mouth, shut her eyes tight, and shook out a tremendous orgasm riding her brother’s narrow shoulders. When he lowered her back down to her feet, she leaned forward and eagerly took his angry, scarlet cockhead into her mouth. For the first time, she reached under it and placed her palms on his heavy balls. She couldn’t tell if it was the moment, or his strange anatomy, but they seemed to pulse under her touch. She squeezed them in rhythm with the pulse and bobbed her head on Vel’s penis.

“Naevia … what are you … doing?” He watched her wavy, copper hair sway and looked down at the delicate curve of her back as she stood with her ass sticking out. The swell of her narrow waist out to her wide hips was more than a siren song to Vel.

“Mmmppphhhhh.” Naevia sucked at Vel, still only able to get the giant head inside her mouth. With other boys back home, she had taken almost half their length. But Vel wasn’t other boys.

“The gods … have given me … the best sister … in the Surround.” In his passion, he forgot how the gods would really have felt should they have discovered brother and sister in such a position. “Aaaahhhhhhhhh.” He let it out.

“Gggghhhhhggghhhh.” Naevia swallowed what she could, and when it was too much, she gagged and plopped the gushing head out of her mouth. She kept her face near the thing and let him spray her. She could tell it pleased him to see his stuff on her. And she was discovering that she might actually enjoy it as well. Pride surged as those heavy balls contracted in her hands over and over and a warm salty mess covered her. “My Vel. My sweet Vel,” she cooed. When he was done shaking and erupting, she stood up and smiled at him. “I think you produced more the second time.”

“Maybe so … but you looked … so beautiful.” He embraced her and pulled her in tight, the mound of her soft right boob pressing just above his hip. Vel sighed, and his heart slowed. But when the catch on the door sounded, his pulse stopped all together. He released his cum drenched sister, leaned back, and pressed his hand on the door. The creaky door moved into the cabin, but only about an inch.

“Excuse me?” Dellia nearly hit her head on the door when it stopped abruptly in front of her. “Have you fallen asleep against the door, Vel?” She shoved it, but it only moved a little.

“I’m naked … changing … I’m changing in here.” Vel called back. He pushed on the door, but his cousin was strong and it stayed open just a fraction of an inch. “Come back in a little while.”

“I don’t care about your body, Your Grace. When you travel with a person across the Inland Sea, you’re bound to see what the gods gave them. You have nothing that I haven’t seen before.” She pushed at the door again, but it didn’t give.

“Um … I’m still … taking care of … you can’t …” Vel said.

“Oh, I see.” Dellia stopped pushing. “You are still working at the morning steel?”

“Well … um …” Vel squeaked. He looked over at his sister, who stood wide-eyed like a deer in a trap. He couldn’t help but gaze at her lovely breasts. Her puffy pink nipples stood out in the cold room, her small areola looked dark against her pale flesh. Those breasts hung so perfectly on her chest. Vel was still so hard despite the situation. He looked back into her eyes. She nodded as if to tell him to agree with their cousin. Vel shook his head, but said, “Yes … I’m having one of those days. I need a little more time.”

Dellia chuckled and removed her hand from the door. “The joys and torments of youth. Take your time.” She turned and headed back up the corridor. “I’ll go find your sister.”

“Goodness, Vel.” Naevia breathed a sigh of relief and raced into his arms. “I know we said it before, but we have to be more careful.” The familiar heat moved from her brother into her core.

“Yes.” Vel squeezed her. He had never been a risk-taker, but now he was putting his life on the very edge of a precipice. Not to mention his sister’s, and the reputation of his family. “More careful.”

“But you’re still so hard,” she said in a hush. Naevia found her hands returning to that massive organ. “Dellia said she would give you some time.”

“She did.” Vel’s muscles tightened as he watched his sister’s sweet, cum-covered face move closer to his cock.

“I can’t leave you in this state.” She opened wide and sucked hard on that wide head. Her hands pumped him as she worked him with her mouth.

“Oh … gods … Naevia.” Vel leaned back against the wall and let his sister go to work.

When they were done, they cleaned as best they could without water, but knew they were still a mess. The room smelled heavily of their actions. The siblings hoped Dellia would assign the smell to the joys and torments of youth, and think nothing beyond. Luckily for them, that’s exactly what she said when she returned to the cabin a good while later.

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With half the family gone and her new deformities to hide, Brynhild took all her meals in her chambers. She had told Cassia that she needed to perform a deep and ancient rite to bring luck to Vel’s voyage. When Cassia had given her approbation, Brynhild detected a hint of an eye roll by the duchess. This disbelief did not disturb the sorceress because, well, there was good reason for skepticism. Over Brynhild’s lifetime magic buildings had crumbled, bridges collapsed, and lost things remained lost.

In her room, she leaned over the small table, reading one of her older volumes. She searched the pages for hints at a transformation that would work. To her left, the dishes from her afternoon meal lay neatly stacked, ready for the scullery servant to fetch them. Outside the window, oranges and purples gave way to the yellowish-gray of twilight. The words became harder to read as the light faded, but Brynhild didn’t want to leave her search even for a moment. She could not abide her new sow’s body.

With a flick of her fingers, a ball of warm light sprung from her left hand and hovered in the air above the book. So intent was she on the page on werewolves, that it took her several minutes to notice what she’d done. She looked up from the book in awe. That lighting spell hadn’t worked since before the fall of the Northern Empire. The light hung before her, giving no heat, but plenty of illumination. She flicked her fingers and it went out. Then, she raised her right hand and made the same gesture. Nothing. The room rested in darkness.

The warmth in her left hand pulsed at her as it had done since she’d held the dust. With a flick of her left pinky and index fingers, she brought the light back. There was magic on the left but not the right. She leaned back and studied the pretty sphere.

A knock on the door brought her out of her reverie. “Come.” Brynhild pulled her cloak more tightly around her and turned toward the door. She let her miraculous light continue to shine above the book.

Merope turned the handle, opened the heavy, oak door, and took a halting step into the room. She hated when her work brought her in the orbit of the sorceress. The strange, platinum-haired woman made the hair on the back of her neck rise. “Your dishes, mistress.” She curtsied without looking up into the sorceress’s cold eyes.

“Very well.” Brynhild watched the small dark woman scurry in. “You’re a new scullery girl, aren’t you?”

Merope stopped dead still at the surprise of an interrogation. She had meant to move into the room and out again as swiftly as the wind. “New, yes. And …” Not wanting to contradict the frightful woman, she pointed to the iron ring on her left hand.

“You mean to say you’re not a girl? A woman married, are you?”

“Yes.” Merope dared to look up at the sorceress. She was taller than any woman had a right to be. Some said she was as tall as the new duke. Merope shuddered to think of what savagery ran rampant in the North where every woman stood as a giant.

“And I suppose your charming husband works here as well?” Brynhild had so isolated herself, that even an inconsequential chat with this small, timid creature was welcome.

“Yes, he … um … my husband … Nicias works with me in the scullery.” Merope had just caught sight of the flaming ball hanging in the air over the table. Her eyes widened. Perhaps this woman still clung to some magic after all.

“Well, married or not, at my age you’re all girls to me.” Brynhild laughed, her smile full of warmth. This small human interaction had diverted her from her troubles and from her new discovery.

“But … you … look younger than me.” It was true, Merope couldn’t judge the woman’s body under her voluminous cloak, but her face looked to be no more than twenty-five. She could tell from the woman’s smile that the inquisition was over and she should carry on with her business. Merope hustled toward the table to take the dishes.

“I get that a lot. It was a gift from my master many years –” Brynhild was cut off as the clumsy scullery servant let a spoon slip from its dish. Both women reached for it as it tumbled toward the floor. The sorceress caught it in her left hand.

Merope, a split second late, closed her hand around the other woman’s hand and the spoon. Warmth spread up her arm and the dishes clanked back to the table. She felt … something unfamiliar. It was … delicious. And hungry. But not the hunger she’d known all her life. This need was nascent to that very second and … murky.

“You can release my hand now, girl.” Brynhild frowned at Merope. The young wife looked like she’d been punctured by Cupid’s arrow. The scullery servant’s eyes half-closed and she leaned her face closer to Brynhild’s. They were both bent over after catching the spoon, so Brynhild did not tower above her. “Release me, girl.”

“What?” Merope’s olive skin blanched. She recoiled and stood up straight. “I … oh … you got the spoon. Good.” And without thinking she turned and ran from the room, leaving the door open behind her.

“You forgot the dishes.” Brynhild called after her, but the girl didn’t reappear. “Very strange.” She straightened and dropped the spoon onto a dish with a clatter. She then turned and strode to the window to think things over. Raising her left hand, she extinguished the light again. In the growing darkness she looked out over the port, taking in the purple water of the Inland Sea at night. A spell had returned to her and Cupid had struck in the span of minutes. She would need to give up on the search for a reversal. At least for a time. First, she had to figure out what in the fire of Hades was happening.

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They would wait until returning to Ostia Novus to continue their games. That’s what Vel and Naevia told each other time and again for a day. Then, the plan changed. It was Naevia that first suggested that they might find some privacy in Kart Hadasht. That was a crazy thought, to defy the gods while searching for their good and decent father. Nonetheless, they made a pact to wait for privacy in the new city. But they probably should not have shook on it. For after the warmth spread from Vel’s hand, Naevia changed the plan again. She dragged her brother from their cabin and pulled him, stooping behind her, in search of a place they wouldn’t be disturbed.

That is how, a day out from their destination, Vel found himself seated on a crate with his sister on her knees before him. Vel could hear the cooing of pigeons from somewhere else in the hold. His tunic was up around his chest, his linen undergarment around one ankle, and his robes spread. Naevia sill wore her stola as her head bobbed in his lap.

“Every time … is better … than the last.” Vel touched her magnificent copper curls, but tentatively moved his hand away.

Naevia felt the touch and pulled off him for a moment, her hands still sliding up and down his great length. “I would like that, you know.” She looked up at him with a dreamy smile, a dribble of spit running down her chin.

“What?” Vel was eager to hear the next suggestion. Going down on her had been a miraculous pleasure for both of them, what could be next?

“You could hold on to my hair while I do this for you. Not too hard.” She took one of his big hands and guided it to the back of her head. “Yes, grasp it like that. Wait … too much. Yeah, that’s good. It lets me know that you like it. Show me that – ggggggppppphhhhh.” It seemed her brother was a quick study. He had gently pushed her mouth back onto his cock and set her rhythm with his hand. The cockhead pushed at the back of her throat and she gagged a little, but Vel backed off. After a few seconds, he had measured her depth, and guided her bobbing mouth. Her tongue rolled around the monstrous thing and she delighted in how mismatched in size her mouth was to Vel’s anatomy. It only barely fit, but that tight window was perfection. As he deftly pulled her hair, she remembered their dancing lessons from years ago. Her gentle brother had taken surprisingly well to offering a lead, and with an arm on her back he had twirled her around the hall, both of them laughing. That was back when they were more similar in size.

“I’m close … Naevia.” Vel knew by now how much Naevia enjoyed swallowing those first hot splashes before it overwhelmed her. Nevertheless, he thought it polite to ask, “Where should I … ugh … finish?”

“Uuuuuuupppphhhh.” She pumped harder on the shaft below her mouth, squeezing the spongy flesh tightly.

Vel understood. “Here … it is … Naevia.” He groaned and let loose.

When he was done, Naevia crawled into her brother’s lap, curled up, and sighed. His still-hard penis was tucked against her belly. “I believe in magic less now than before our voyage.” She watched cum drip from her chin onto his pale belly. The boat rocked gently below them and the pigeons cooed.

“Have I not proven my curse?” Vel reached down and absently patted her stola above the curve of her hip.

“Don’t be silly.” She felt the heat come up from him and sink into her being. It was the most natural thing in the world, an extension of what they always were. “We were meant for this, you and I. Our brother Fortinbras surely knew. He said as much. Bantia has hinted at it. Even Mother has stated some displeasure at our … closeness. Are you the only one not to see?”

“I thought it was innocent and natural.”

She looked up at him with disapproval on her cum splattered face. “This is natural. The most natural thing in the world, do you not feel how right this is?” She uncoiled in his lap, lifted her stola past her waist, and sat astride him, his cock sticking up between her legs and bouncing against her belly button with his pulse. She rubbed herself for the first time against the underside of his penis. Her button caught each vein on the way up and down beautifully.

“Yes. It is natural, but … oh … gods,” Vel said.

While rubbing herself, she reached down and placed her hands on his cockhead. She twisted and rubbed with her fingers, using his leftover cum for lubrication.

“You can’t … put it in.” Vel could feel her hot, wet lips slapping at his balls every time she hit bottom.

That brought a shimmer of a smile to her otherwise vacant face. “I am not crazy, Your Grace. I know better than that. My future husband might not believe me … uh … uh … to be a virgin if I was stretched beyond ruin by your … leviathan. Can you … ah … ah … imagine that scandal? Besides … it would … ugh … never fit.” She rubbed herself on him, worked his head, and watched the happiness spread on his face. “I’m going to … ugh …” Her hips moved faster. “Kiss me … or I’ll scream.” She leaned forward and tilted her chin up. They locked lips. His penis now pressed between their bellies. It was a good thing she had her tongue in his mouth, because otherwise the ship would certainly wonder who was screaming bloody murder when her climax took her.   

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For the first time in days, Brynhild ventured out of her chambers. She was still dressed to hide her body from the world, which was, of course, an oddity for her. It was the women of the Surround that were so modest with their tame stolas. The women of the North were not afraid to be seen. But now she was. No other old spells had returned to her left hand in the hours since she’d conjured her ball of light. But she remained optimistic. For the first time since the wind had tricked her, things looked up.

Brynhild walked through the kitchens, sweeping past the cooks who looked up at her stature and complexion with some modicum of fear. The smells of baking bread and roast venison were pleasant, but not much of a distraction. She found the scullery and poked her head in. A man washed dishes in a sink. Beside him, a large pot of water was coming to a boil.

“Hello there, boy.” Brynhild said this, despite the fact that the man clearly looked older than her. “I’m looking for a woman about this high.” She held her hand to about her navel. “She has dark hair, brown skin, dark eyes, and she’s rather round.”

“Yes, mistress.” Nicias stood still, but his eyes darted back and forth. He tried his best not to stare up into her face. “But … you see … you have described most women from the Surround.”

“She forgot to fetch my dishes last night and they sit there still this morning.” She looked to his left hand and saw the iron ring there. “And she is married.”

“Um … I’m very sorry about your dishes, mistress.” Nicias’s eyes darted more fervently. “I’ll have someone fetch them right away.”

“I don’t care about dishes, little man.” Brynhild moved closer to the man, looking down at him with something akin to anger. But it was of course only a show. She so loved to make people squirm. “Where is that woman?”

“That is my wife, Merope, that you seek.” He stuck out his chest and did the bravest thing in his life. “I am Nicias. If you seek to punish someone, punish me.”

“I seek to punish no one, friend Nicias.” Brynhild finally let her laughter out. “I only wish to speak with her.”

Nicias heaved a huge sigh of relief. “She’s in the bath, cleaning.”

“Thank you.” Brynhild turned and left the scullery, her cloak twirling behind her.

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In the prow of the ship, Vel and Naevia stood arm in arm. They watched the tan city rise out of the water as they tacked against the wind. Spires rose up here and there, but most seemed in the middle of construction. Vel knew that the structures were actually in the opposite process. Without magic, the great towering spires of Kart Hadasht could no longer withstand the pressure of standing. But as they crumpled, they were too dangerous to tear down. So, the towers still stood as shadows of what they once were, slowly raining stones back to the earth.

“It is so different from Ostia Novus.” Naevia squeezed his billowing cloak around the small of his back. She did this in what she hoped was a sisterly fashion since they no doubt had many sailors’ eyes on them where they stood. “There is no blue or gray stone. Even the sea is more green than blue here.” She glanced along the lower skyline, watching the buildings that were still in use. “And everything here has curves.”

“It does.” Vel rested his arm loosely around Naevia’s delicate shoulders. He looked down at her and admired the way she looked with her hair flying back in the wind. “It will be good to have a rest in some private room. Don’t you think?”

Naevia grinned, but did not look up at him. Instead, she kept her eyes on the growing city. How odd that the place they would find their father would be the place her and her brother could play their new games without fear of discovery.

“Ho, hey, Tulliuses.” Dellia strode up to them and placed her foot on the taffrail. She wore only a tunic and sandals, but did not seem to care that she looked like a man. “We should ready ourselves. You have no guard but two meek women, cousin.” She looked at Vel with a wry smile that belied the word meek. “And such a dark and foul city will dish out danger with alacrity.”

“The city looks pretty enough to me,” Vel said.

Naevia gave him another squeeze for his naivety. “I look pretty enough, but my arrows do bite.”

“And my husband thinks me pleasant to look at, but there are men who wish they hadn’t met my sword.” Dellia leaned forward, pressing her arms to her knee. “It’s time for armor and weapons. Let’s hope the viscount sends the men he promised. I do not want to carry my own luggage.” With that, she turned, gave Vel a slap on the back, and strode back across the deck.

Vel and Naevia stayed where they were, watching the city in silence, still arm in arm. They had a moment more before readying for the next leg of their journey.   

Continued in Chapter 5

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