"One more thing... If I were you, I'd keep an eye on this Zell guy. He looks just like the tribal who hired me to kill Nadjela."
"How?" Chester reflexively brings a hand to the hilt and shows two inches of blade, ready to run off in search of Zell.
"Relax. I'd like nothing better than for you to screw up and get an arrow in the back, but Nadjela doesn't deserve a show. Talk to her as soon as you can, and find out if my intuition is correct. As I said, to me all the tribals look identical"
The Lancaster sheathes again.
"If they wanted to kill us, wouldn't they have tried something by now?" Chester questions. "During the bath, and later at dinner, we were all very vulnerable"
"It's hard to say or know what they're thinking, we hardly know these natives. Maybe that guy in the pig mask got confused, or his plan was to cajole us into a coup d'etat"
"For me, Tashala was sincere...."
"Maybe, I don't know. Regardless, defeating Shura is our top priority. His heavy armor is more dangerous than any of these arrow-throwers"
Erika's words leave him with deep doubts. Is Shura really the most dangerous thing?
...
Chester, lying in the hammock, has to use all his prudence to keep quiet. An hour, or maybe two, passes and in that time he is unable to fall asleep. Every time he closes his eyes and promises to rest, some image constructed by his brain about what might happen tomorrow jolts him out of sleep. Trying to relax he brings his hand to his pants wanting to wake up his friend, he massages, but it is futile.
"Damn it..."
He hears a grunt of alarm. Chester looks out of the corner of his eye at the dark floor, where the pig squeals with her hair standing on end.
"What's wrong?" he asks. Moment when he notices the other presence in the room.
The silhouette advances through the shadows, noiselessly, slender as a panther. Chester, worried that it is an assassin sent by Shura, sits up and reaches for the sword resting near the wall. The silhouette lunges and knocks him back into the hammock.
"What the fuck?"
In the dim light of the night, he discovers a graceful, dark face, with big eyes and a mischievous smile, with very straight hair cut halfway down his neck. The pearl earrings, the red-tinted leather choker, and the etherealness of her clothes, which do little to protect her small, flat-chested body, leave Chester suspecting that she is not a girl who has lost her way. Besides, he can swear he knows her, but where did he see her? In the village, that's for sure, but when? Before staying at the house, it's clear to him.
She instead of apologizing or backing away, straddles him. The close proximity allows Chester to sniff a peculiar, cloying perfume, which prevents him from thinking, but at the same time sets every one of his nerves on edge.
"Miss, go to your room" he grabs her arms to pull her away, but she cuts the distance with a kiss instead. It is more than an innocent accidental peck, her tongue invades his mouth, and her small hands, stronger and calloused than Chester would have expected, roam the Lancaster's body eagerly, unbuttoning every garment, almost as if frisking him. Chester is soon shirtless.
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"How strong" The intruder runs her fingertips along the lines of his abs.
"Seriously, what's your name?" asks the Lancaster, enduring the bewilderment. In that fleeting break, he notices out of the corner of his eye that the little pig is no longer there, as if something had scared her away, possibly the powerful perfume of the stranger.
"It doesn't matter. Just relax, and enjoy this night as if it were your last"
Having said that, she melts back into him. Chester, who until just now had been holding himself like a plank, begins to respond after feeling a tingle of life between his legs. His eyes moisten with joy and it occurs to him that maybe his adversary in the dome was right, and there is a God.
Chester's faith grows in rhythm with his erection, which soon becomes fully erect, nearly tearing his thong. He pats his partner's body, and, gaining confidence, delivers a resounding spank to the intruder's bubble butt, who lets out a squeal. Unlike him, the stranger seems to be filling with hesitation.
"Let me get more.... Comfortable" she turns around as if to open the distance between her body and that prominent member pressing against him.
"You look perfect" He pulls her into his arms, chest to back, kisses her neck. Under the garments the intruder feels as if a piston was rubbing against her rear.
"Maybe it's too much" she says with a hint of panic.
"Oh, is it?"
The intruder slyly reaches for the six-inch bone needle she hides in her hair, which she knows can pierce the target's brain through the eyes, ears, or nostrils.
But he doesn't give her a chance to fulfill her mission, the Lancaster's attentions increase, and from the brunette's lips bloom tender treacherous gasps that she tries to stifle with her own hand, but soon become impossible to contain, turning into long gasps to the rhythm of the lion's ever faster lunges. Painful at first, then unbearably delicious.
The stranger falls surrendered after the third round. Chester can't blame her, maybe he overdid it with the rudeness, but the repressed time and the revived hope turned him into a real locomotive. He decides that when dawn breaks he will apologize to her and figure out how to repay her for the night, but for the moment, he puts on his pants and boots, and goes out to cool off in the night air. No sooner does he cross the frontage than he sees a man dressed in a hawk's cloak appear among the houses. The Lancastrian waves to him.
"You're Zell, aren't you? Nice night"
The archer gives him a friendly look before asking:
"Did you finish with Maaca?"
"Heh, that's one way of putting it. So Maaca was his name" he answers with a vague smile and then frowns, somewhat annoyed with the champion. "But don't you know that a gentleman never asks about an unmarried lady's affairs?"
Zell narrows his eyes.
"Unmarried lady...?" He opens them wide. "Wait, you didn't notice?"
"Noticed what?"
Zell snorts and shakes his head.
"Neddin was right, you're just an idiot. So much for my hopes of facing a warrior of my own skill and wit"
"Hey!" He points an accusing finger at him. "That's not very nice of you"
"Shut up and..." He loads an arrow into the bow and aims at the nobleman. "Die"
The string vibrates. The arrow traces its trajectory at a speed capable of dismemberment. Chester, instead of turning away or turning around as one might expect, lunges, and the next thing that happens escapes Zell's grasp. Less than a second after the arrow hits the nobleman, he waves a blurred hand and the arrow disappears. Chester keeps running, arrives in front of Zell and buries a dagger up to the hilt.
Zell's knees hit the dust. With a discolored and confused countenance he looks down, and discovers his own projectile's nipple protruding from his left breastplate. The falcon's champion ends up on his side in the dirt. From that position, he sees Chester hurrying into Tashala's house.
The Lancasterian finishes dressing, grabs the sword and holsters, as well as covering the sleeping intruder with a skin he found. He breathes a sigh of relief, for it was a gift that such a woman appeared, otherwise, who knows? Surely some assassin of Neddin would have caught him in the hammock.
Chester already understands that Nadjela's father is evil, and now his only goal is to go and protect her from that cruel man. He leaves the house and runs in the direction of the lair of the boss of La Cuna. Little does he realize that Zell is not where he left him.