As they returned to back to the streets of Ricortia, it was bustling more than when they arrived. With more mix of soldiers, civilians, and a steady stream of mercenaries, crowds soon gathered and made the streets cramped with people. The cold wind from the south continued to pass through, blanketing the streets in a cold, white shroud. Despite the chaos and disease that gripped the city, life moved on, each person trying to carve out a semblance of normalcy.
Then one of their mounted riders waved upon seeing them exit the keep. They got closer and realized it was Cornt.
“Captain. Lieutenant Freya just finished setting up our camp.” He saluted.
“Where?” Tresmer stretched her neck. The long exchange they had earlier made her muscles cramp and tremble in inactivity.
“It’s on the other side, follow me.”
Vulkrun and Tresmer mounted their warhorses and led their men back to the open plaza where the Goldbrand Company had set up their camp. Cornt was excitedly talking about how they found this place empty and spacious enough for their camp. It took them much longer than Cornt had expected as on their way, they had to share the streets with other people who weren’t present there before when they arrived.
Then he saw a large opening that was surrounded with wooden stakes, a wall with watchtowers on every corner, wooden palisades, and a deep ditch filled with water drawn from the nearby river that flowed through the city. As they approached, the direwolves and bears that were lurking around their camp, guarding the perimeter, were alerted to their arrival which Tresmer and his men greeted with head pats and head scratches. The tents were already pitched in orderly rows and campfires burning brightly, providing warmth and light for the upcoming night.
He dismounted at the entrance of the camp while waiting for his men to open the makeshift gate. Vulkrun couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride as he observed how swiftly his men had set up such formidable defenses in just half a day.
The silence was abruptly broken by the growls of their direwolves and bears, which were stationed as their camp sentries. The animals’ instincts alerted them to potential intruders behind them. The sound was low and menacing, causing every mercenary to instinctively reach for their weapons. A quick response that they got used to. They turned toward the source of the disturbance, expecting an enemy, but instead saw a pitiful sight.
“Easy,” Vulkrun called out, his voice cutting through the tension. The men relaxed slightly but kept their hands close to their weapons. Vulkrun turned his gaze to where the direwolves were looking and saw a man in ragged clothes, a woman carrying a babe, and a man with an expression of faces gaunt and eyes hollow from hunger and fear.
Then the man rushed towards them, his face twisted in anguish. Crying and yelling in jumbled words. Either he disregarded the growling wolves and bears that were beside Vulkrun’s men or he did not care anymore due to how he had fallen into despair.
“What’s going on here?” Vulkrun demanded, his voice carrying the authority of command.
One of the men exited from the camp through the gate and stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he took in the scene.
“It seems there’s been a misunderstanding, captain.”
The man who had rushed towards them was now shouting, his voice filled with anger and desperation. But Vulkrun could finally understand his words amidst tears and snot.
The anguished man, red-faced and panting, pointed at the ruins of a house near the edge of the camp.
“Your people! They destroyed my family’s home! My property! Our house!”
Vulkrun quickly assessed the situation. He looked around and noticed that the space that their camp had set in was very peculiar and strange Then he realized that Freya, one of his lieutenants, had ordered the disassembly and destruction of a house to make space for their camp and probably use the materials as part of their wooden stakes and walls.
“We just went to gather firewood outside the city only to return our house turn into a pile of rubble. How could you do this?” the man wept.
Whether his lieutenant had intended or not to destroy someone’s home, he has no time nor the energy to investigate or care. His men were about to command the wolves to intimidate the man when Vulkrun raised a hand to stop them. It seems that they had upset the residents. Recognizing the potential for a larger local issue if the man continued to protest which would then earn them the ire of the citizens, Vulkrun stepped forward and approached the distressed.
“I understand your anger, and I apologize for the actions of my men. We did not intend to cause you such distress. They may have misunderstood your empty house as vacant and inhabited.”
He reached into his saddle and took a pouch half filled with silver coins.
“Take this as compensation for your loss. It should help you find shelter that we had destroyed and food for your family. I am sure this is more than enough.”
The man’s expression shifted from anger to surprise and nodded his head several times. Shocked that Vulkrun even gave him such an amount of money that was more than what he wanted.
“Thank you, sir,” he muttered, quickly pocketing the pouch and going back to his family. Vulkrun watched him go, then turned back to enter the camp.
“Let’s make sure this doesn’t happen again. We don’t need any more trouble in this city.” Vulkrun said to his men. The tension in the camp eased, and the men returned to their duties.
Tresmer, who watched the exchange silently, asked.
“Are you sure it was wise to give him silver coins without knowing if they truly owned the house?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Vulkrun replied with a weary sigh. “I don’t want to deal with screaming and crying people just outside our camp. We need rest, Tresmer. We have a long week ahead of us.”
Tresmer nodded, understanding his leader’s pragmatism. Both of them made their way to the center of the camp, where a large tent served as their command center, designated for their administrative tasks. Around them, as they passed, their members were already busy with various tasks, some sharpening weapons, some cooking, others tending to the direwolves and bears that were resting for their next watch, while others were inspecting the durability of their armor. They tied their warhorses in the hitching post and could already feel the heat from the inside. The men that were following them, stood outside. The tent’s air was warmer, thanks to a brazier burning in the corner. Maps and battle plans were spread out on a wooden table.
And their company’s treasurer, Torus, was already at work. Meticulously organizing a pile of documents, poring over ledgers and scrolls by the light of a flickering lantern. The air inside the tent was warmer than outside, but it still carried a chill that spoke of the winter’s approach. His demeanor was one of practiced calm, a stark contrast to the violent or mischievous countenance that was mostly found among the Goldbrand Company’s members. Hearing footsteps and seeing shadows in the corner of his eye, Torus looked up from his work. His face had a mask of both exhaustion and focus as Vulkrun and Tresmer entered the tent with their misty breaths.
“We’ve completed the primary defenses and set up the basic infrastructure. The men are almost finished with the watchtowers and the storage areas. Everything should be completed within the hour. We’ve also secured the perimeter and set up a watch rotation,” Torus reported and then went back to the documents he was inspecting. “The men are settling in well.”
“Good work,” Vulkrun said, stretching his arms. “Where’s Freya and Nimea?”
“Freya is currently at the market buying supplies with a few of our men and some slaves. Nimea went to scout around. She said she’ll be back in two hours.” Torus replied. “Why do you ask?”
“It seemed that Freya left her mess uncleaned.” Tresmer grinned.
“I see you’ve handled the situation outside,” Torus said with a neutral tone. Keeping his gaze on the scroll that he was reading. “I’ll ensure it doesn’t happen again. But we need this much space if we’re to maintain our perimeter.”
“It’s fine. Anyway, we’ve received our initial payment from the grandmaster. This is the initial sum.” Vulkrun gestured to a group of eight men who were standing by, each pair carrying a heavy chest and waiting for his order outside the tent. Then, on cue, these men entered the tent and carefully set their burdens down, stacking them neatly in the center of the tent with practiced ease. Their faces betrayed a mixture of relief and satisfaction for being relieved and then left.
Torus’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of the chests, and he cleared a space on a nearby table for a new set of scrolls for him to document their recent payment.
“How much are we looking at here?”
Tresmer stepped forward jumped on one of the empty tables and cleaned her nails with a dagger.
“There are about 3,400 rud weight of gold coins in total. By the way, Vulkrun has already taken a pouch of silver coins for the compensation of the property we disassembled.”
“Ah, thanks for reminding me of that. I will have compensation of what I paid, Torus.” Vulkrun nodded.
“I will adjust the accounts accordingly.” Torus sighed deeply, a frown creasing his forehead.
The sight of so much wealth, even for those accustomed to large sums, was impressive.
The treasurer began to tally the figures, his fingers moving methodically over the pages of his ledgers and scrolls. Torus's eyes were mixed with anticipation and concern. The money was crucial, not just for their immediate needs but for sustaining their company through the uncertain months ahead. And it was his job to keep their company swimming in gold and avoid bankruptcy.
“You may think that this is already a sizable sum,” Torus said, his tone carrying a hint of apology. “But we need to ensure we have enough to sustain us for the long haul. We must be prepared for the unexpected expenses.”
“This coffer will support us for a year at the very least,” Their treasurer said eventually, looking up from his work. “This is even after taking into account the inevitable inflation and economic instability in the kingdom which may strain our resources faster than anticipated. And after also considering your previous command to avoid taking from our previous… ‘payment’ with Count Royle.”
Their treasurer approached the chests and opened them one by one, his eyes scanning the gold coins with a practiced eye. He murmured how he may need to hire someone again from their camp followers to help him recount and document the amount.
Vulkrun took this moment to study the tent, his gaze shifting to the stacks of paperwork and ledgers Torus was working on. The sheer volume of documentation spoke to the complexity of managing a mercenary company of their size.
“I trust your judgment, Torus,” Vulkrun said. “We need to ensure our provisions are well-managed. What do you think we should prioritize?”
Tresmer chimed in, her tone pragmatic.
“We should requisition additional food supplies and alcohol. It would be prudent to replenish these essentials while we are still within the city. Once we move further into enemy territory, acquiring such supplies might become more difficult.”
Vulkrun nodded in agreement.
“We will handle that after we meet with the grandmaster tomorrow. I want to ensure we are fully prepared, stocked, and secured with provisions before we venture beyond the city.”
“Very well. I will make arrangements for more acquisition of food and alcohol once Freya returns.” Torus made a note in his ledger, his expression one of deep concentration. “I’ll handle the accounting and adjust the records accordingly. We must keep track of every coin spent and received. The last thing we need is a discrepancy when we’re in the thick of things.”
“Good. Make sure to keep a detailed record. Transparency and accuracy are crucial.” Vulkrun gave a nod of approval.
Then Tresmer asked another question.
“How are things progressing with the other mercenaries? Any issues we should be aware of?”
Torus glanced up, his eyes reflecting the dim light of the lantern.
“The other companies seem to be settling in well also, but there have been some tensions among them. Various companies are used to working independently, and also our presence has caused a few grumblings. We’ll need to manage those relationships carefully to avoid any disruptions in future cooperation with them.”
“It's only natural. They will feel threatened by competition. I’ll handle it,” Vulkrun said with a decisive nod. “Keep an eye on any potential issues, and let me know if anything serious arises.”
With the chill of the evening starting to settle in, a group of women entered the tent and served three of them with drinks. Vulkrun took a sip of the wine, savoring the rare comfort it offered. He turned his attention to Torus, who was seated across from him, and inquired about the state of their slaves.
“Torus.” Vulkrun began again. “How about the slaves? I’m aware we may not be able to procure slaves through merchants in this kingdom as it is not their main trade and… no one is probably willing to test the Church by selling slaves here. With the plague going around, we may need to maintain their numbers in the camp and avoid sending them to dangerous errands without any guaranteed replacement for them.”
Torus, who had been methodically making notes on parchment about their newfound wealth, looked up again and responded with a measured tone.
“We already have enough of them to take care of the errands around the camp.” Torus then remembered something. “Speaking of errands, our spices are dwindling fast that the remaining stock will only last for three months. Especially when we started to utilize the preservation of our food supply for the coming winter. We’re currently smoking our meat to avoid using too much salt. However, preserving vegetables and fruits requires sugar and vinegar aside from salt. Either we change the preserved dish that we use to avoid using up our spices or buy more. And… it seems sugar is out of stock in the city, so we will have to rely on salt instead.”
“This city’s situation isn’t going to improve anytime soon. Food will be more precious than gold." Tresmer added. “It's better to have an extreme excess.”
“Very well. Authorize the purchase of fifty sacks of salt immediately. But more wagons and oxen to pull them if needed. We need to ensure that our provisions are secure for as long as possible.” Vulkrun nodded, contemplating the implications of the shortage. “Set up traps and measures against pests. May it be four or two-legged.”
“Understood. I’ll handle the matter personally.” Torus made a quick note, acknowledging the order.
“And what about our camp followers? How are they faring?” Tresmer, who had been listening intently, interjected. She remembered the women who served them with warm drinks earlier. They were not members of the Goldbrand Company but were part of the civilian train that followed them around.
“The situation with our camp followers is stable for now. Many of them have already initiated a negotiation in discussions with Freya and myself earlier about acquiring cotton and threads to make clothes and thick coats for the winter.” Torus leaned back, considering his response. “And it seems several new women have joined them recently, adding to their growing numbers.”
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
“How many are they now?” Vulkrun asked.
The treasurer rummages his scrolls for the document he wrote about their camp followers.
“From my earlier inspection… Ah! Here’s the list. Nine women joined last month so…” He continued. “Well, there are… a hundred eighty-two women, twenty-seven children, seven infants… and um… forty men, they’re either craftsmen or traders… and ten elderly women. By the way, three women were currently pregnant. And we have five pairs who wanted to get married.”
Vulkrun’s expression hardened slightly as he processed the information.
His mind was already racing with another concern. He had observed troubling symptoms of venereal diseases on the regular troops and mercenaries they passed earlier on their way to the camp. This includes possible infection of Cockrot and Eripox. The sight of such conditions had made him increasingly concerned about the potential for further spread of disease to his mercenary company.
“We need to address an issue with the female camp followers immediately. Prohibit them from selling sexual services to those outside of the Goldbrand Company.” Vulkrun instructed firmly. “The risk of disease is too great, and I’ve already seen signs of poxes spreading among the ranks in the city, even among the ranks of knights and nobles. And I suspect some of the clergy at the grandmaster’s headquarters may be affected as well. The last thing we need is for our company to get paralyzed due to a camp follower spreading the disease in our company which she got from sleeping with those infected. If they could not obey that, kick them out.”
“I’ll communicate the order immediately.” Torus looked slightly taken aback but nodded in agreement.
“We’re already dealing with the plague and could do without adding more venereal diseases in the mix.” Tresmer laughed as she drank.
"By the way, your tent has been built already. Both of you should get some rest. I’ll wake you if anything urgent comes up." Torus said.
“Thanks, we’ll do just that.” Vulkrun stretched his back and turned to Tresmer. “Come Tresmer. We still have to wake up early tomorrow for our meeting with the grandmaster and the marshals.”
With their camp’s immediate concerns addressed for now, Vulkrun and Tresmer retired to their quarters for the end of the day. The night air was crisp, the cold seeping through even the thickest of cloaks. Vulkrun’s footsteps crunched through the freezing stones on the ground as he approached the large, makeshift structure.
Their tent, a large, sturdy structure, stood at the edge of the camp. As they entered, they were greeted by a sense of warmth and comfort. The tent was dimly lit by flickering oil lamps, casting a warm, golden glow that contrasted sharply with the bleakness of the outside world. The rich aroma of spiced wine mixed with the chilly air, offers a fleeting comfort. The interior was spacious, with a large bed covered in fluffy furs dominating one side. Nearby, a wooden tub filled with warm, steaming water waited, the steam rising in gentle curls. Both took a moment to appreciate the brief respite from the relentless cold outside.
They both laughed, appreciating the effort their camp followers had put in.
"Looks like they’re making themselves useful," Vulkrun remarked.
"Not that I’m complaining," Tresmer shrugged.
They took turns helping each other remove their armor, a task that required patience. The golden-plated armor they wore was heavy and intricate, each piece meticulously designed for protection and mobility. They took turns unfastening straps and buckles, lifting off the gleaming plates with practiced ease. As they removed the last pieces, their bodies felt lighter, the weight of the armor replaced by a sense of relief.
Finally, in their undergarments, Tresmer picked up a towel, dipping it into the warm water of the tub. She began wiping away the dust and grime from Vulkrun’s face, back, body, legs, and neck, her touch gentle but firm. The towel glided over his skin, leaving a trail of cleanliness in its wake. The sounds of the soft rustling of cloth, the dripping of water, and the occasional crackle from the brazier echo in their silence. Vulkrun reciprocated, using another warm damp towel to clean Tresmer’s skin, removing the dirt and muck that clung to her from their journey.
Once they were both clean, they turned their attention to the wooden tub. The water was invitingly hot, and they eased themselves into it, sighing as the warmth seeped into their muscles. The tub was large enough for both of them to stretch out comfortably, and they leaned back, allowing the heat to melt away the tension of the day. The heat from the steaming water enveloped them, eased their muscles, and as they leaned back, enjoying the rare moment of tranquility.
Their thoughts drifted, lulled by the heat and the gentle rhythm of their breathing. As the steam rose around them, they allowed themselves to forget everything, if only for a little while.
The silent comfort shared by Vulkrun and Tresmer was suddenly interrupted by a gentle voice at the tent's entrance. It was from a woman, asking for permission to enter.
"We're here to help you bathe." one of the women said softly as if taking into consideration the possibility that the two were already sleeping.
"Come in." Tresmer, her eyes still closed and her body relaxed, called out.
The tent flap rustled as four women entered, each carrying small wooden pails of water. The women moved with grace, their steps barely making a sound on the leather floor. Then the women began their work, their hands gentle but firm. One woman stood behind Vulkrun, her fingers threading through his hair, massaging his scalp with slow, deliberate movements. The sensation was almost hypnotic, each touch carefully practiced and designed to ease the stress of battle and violence from their minds.
Another woman worked on his shoulders, her hands firm as she massaged the knots and tightness from his muscles. She also accurately found his sore spots, applying just the right amount of pressure to relax his aching muscles. The sensation was both soothing and invigorating, the perfect balm for his weary body.
“No wonder Nimea loves to have you girls.” Vulkrun sincerely praised their service.
“We are happy that you liked it.” one of the women who was massaging his back muscles giggled.
The women continued their work, their hands moving in rhythmic patterns that lulled Vulkrun and Tresmer into a state of near-drowsiness. The tent was filled with the soft sounds of water splashing, the gentle rustle of cloth, and the occasional murmur of voices. The warmth of the bath and the soothing touch of the women created a cocoon of peace around them.
The women’s presence in their mercenary company was the comforting balm. A counterbalance to the unruly and violent nature. And even more, they know the importance of their role, providing a moment of solace to those who fought on the front lines. Whether it was to give warmth in the night of a cold and wounded mercenary of the Goldbrand or to sing a song in the campfire to ease the minds of the entire camp. The company itself was a self-contained society. As Tresmer had always called it, there are always two sides to the gold coin they receive. One side of violence and the other of comfort.
While the other two worked on Tresmer's head, their light touches were calming, and experienced the same tender care. One of the women massaged her temples, her fingers moving in slow, circular motions. Another worked on her lower back, using strong, steady pressure to ease the stiffness that had settled there. The perfumed oil they used was warm and fragrant, leaving a subtle, pleasant scent on their skin. The scent was intoxicating, a blend of lavender and sandalwood that filled the tent with a soothing aroma. The oil left their skin feeling soft and rejuvenated, the sensation enhanced by the warm glow of the lanterns.
Tresmer let out a soft moan of contentment as the woman’s hands glided over her skin, the tension melting away. She opened her eyes and was reminded of their attires. These women were part of their camp followers. Their clothes were simple yet elegant with loose, flowing garments that allowed them to move freely. Adding also the aura they exude that gives off a seductive sight, as part of their other job or services they provide in the camp. This was why they wore no traditional garb that of the kingdom's women that covered their hair in headdresses. These women let their locks and femininity flow freely unlike those who followed the faith of the Holy See.
But this would also be the very reason these women would often face insults, mocks, and named as witches or whores of the devil. She became concerned for them. Tresmer turned her head to one of the women who was smoothing oil over her shoulders and asked.
"How are you all doing?" she asked, her voice a soft murmur. "Has anyone harassed you lately in the city?"
The women exchanged glances before one of them, a young woman with dark hair and kind eyes, spoke up.
"Fortunately, lieutenant no one has bothered us...well, yet at least. We should already expect that it is only a matter of time until it happens. Especially in a city like those who are under the great influence of the church. But the banner of a mercenary company alone is always enough to deter anyone from trying anything stupid."
"Good to hear. We want to make sure you're all safe." Vulkrun sighed.
The woman massaging his scalp leaned closer, her breath warm against his ear.
"And we wanted to give our gratitude to you captain." Her hands wiggled his way to his chest, mischievously touching his skin. “Oh, what is this big thing coming out of the water captain?”
The woman was trying to seduce Vulkrun but then she felt bloodlust from her side. She quickly turned to see and found out that Tresmer was smiling at her, although she could feel that it was not out of positive light.
"That's reassuring. If there's ever any trouble, you come to us immediately." Tresmer told her.
“Ye-yes lieutenant!” the woman quickly withdraws her advances to Vulkrun who just laughed at the exchange.
As the women finished their massages, they took fresh towels and began to wipe down Vulkrun and Tresmer's bodies, the perfumed oil leaving their skin smooth and fragrant. The attention to detail was meticulous, each movement designed to provide maximum comfort.
"Is there anything else you require, my lord, my lady?" the leader of the women asked.
"No, you've done more than enough. Thank you." Tresmer opened her eyes with a grateful smile.
"Thank you also," Vulkrun said, his voice a low rumble. "You’ve done well."
The women smiled; their eyes bright with gratitude.
"It's our pleasure," one of them replied.
With their task complete, the women gathered their pails and quietly left the tent, leaving Vulkrun and Tresmer in the warm, fragrant silence. They settled back into the tub, their bodies feeling light and rejuvenated, basking in the afterglow of their pampering. The tent was once again filled with the gentle sounds of their breathing and the crackling of the brazier.
Then Tresmer turned her attention fully to Vulkrun. With a mischievous glint in her eye, she straddled him, her hands resting on his broad shoulders.
"Well," Tresmer said, her voice drowsy with contentment, "that was quite the treat."
"Indeed. We should make this a regular part of our routine. Maybe after every battle." Vulkrun chuckled softly, his hand reaching out to intertwine around her hips.
"Tired already?" she teased, her voice giving a low purr as she whispered in his ears.
Vulkrun smirked, he now strongly gripped her hips.
"Not in the slightest. I still have the energy to exhaust you."
Her grin widened at his words, and she leaned in, biting down on his neck. Blood welled from the wound, and she lapped it up, the taste of iron filling her mouth.
"Then I'll take up that challenge," she murmured, her breath hot against his skin.
She reached down, her hand wrapping around his manhood. With a practiced ease, she guided him into her, letting out a sharp gasp as he filled her.
"So big, did you get hard after that woman’s massage?" she moaned, her breath coming in white, warm puffs in the cool night air. “You need to be punished. It seems that you forgot that I should be the one to taste this first.”
Tresmer began to move, her hips rolling rhythmically against him. Vulkrun met her movements, his hands gripping her ponytail, pulling her closer as their lips met in a fierce, hungry kiss. The warmth of the water seemed to invigorate them, their bodies moving in perfect harmony.
Their passion grew more intense, their movements more urgent. Tresmer's moans filled the tent, mingling with Vulkrun's groans. The sensation of the hot water and the friction of their bodies drove them both to the brink.
Suddenly, with a surge of strength, Vulkrun stood up, lifting Tresmer with him. She clung to him, her legs wrapped around his waist, her arms around his neck. The change in position intensified the sensations, and they both gasped at the new angle.
"You're insatiable," Vulkrun growled, his voice thick with desire.
"And I know you love this side of me." Tresmer shot back, her lips brushing against his ear.
They continued their fervent dance, the water splashing his feet. Their movements synchronized in a primal rhythm. The tension built, their breaths coming in ragged gasps, their bodies straining towards release.
With one, powerful thrust, they both cried out, their bodies trembling in the throes of ecstasy. The culmination of their passion left them breathless, clinging to each other in the aftermath. She could feel the seed entering her, making her almost faint in ecstasy.
“That was quick-” Before Tresmer could finish her words, Vulkrun started thrusting again.
“I told you I will exhaust you.” He whispered in her ears. His breaths rejuvenated her heart again. “I keep my words.”
Both moaned in pleasure as their movements started, synchronized once again, their bodies moving together in perfect harmony. Tresmer's legs tightened even harder around Vulkrun's hips, locking him in place as her hands clasped on each of his shoulders. They exchanged kisses and breaths, the air in their tent growing warmer with their shared heat.
Vulkrun looked down at Tresmer, his eyes filled with admiration.
"No matter how many times I see your bare body, I'll always… find your forged and well-toned form to be beautiful," he said, his voice filled with sincerity and obvious lust.
“Weirdo,” Tresmer smirked at his words, but she appreciated his genuine praise. "You’re probably the only man who would think that.”
“You're probably… the only man who would see me this way," she said, her voice tinged with a mixture of humor and affection. “Your consistent praises have changed me… you know… I used to think it was disgusting and shameless for a woman to crave a man's praise. But now, I find myself wanting it… needing it… spoiled like every other woman I used to look with disdain…. I never would’ve thought I'd become someone who will crave that."
Then she bit him again on the other side of his neck.
“And because of that, take responsibility... Every time I want you… hold me... Hard.”
Vulkrun laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that reverberated through their entwined bodies. He grabbed her head gently, pulling her into another passionate kiss.
"Well, you'll also have to take responsibility for making me want to violate you every time I had to look at your ass," he said playfully.
Tresmer's lips curved into a sly smile.
"I don't mind you sleeping with other women, as long as I get to taste you first every day or before you sleep with them. Besides, we are not keen on getting infected with venereal diseases and poxes." She paused, her fingers tracing the contours of his face. "I think other women in the company have probably told other men the same thing."
Vulkrun chuckled, appreciating the logic behind her words. This time, he was the one who purred as she touched one of the sensitive parts in his back, his hands answering back by roaming her body, tracing the lines of her muscles and curves.
Tresmer's breath hitched at his touch, her body responding eagerly.
"You flatterer," she whispered, but her eyes betrayed her enjoyment.
They continued their passionate dance, their movements growing more intense. Vulkrun's movements became more fervent, driven by the desire to fulfill her and himself. Tresmer's body responded eagerly, her moans growing louder, matching the rhythm of their connection.
"If you were any other woman," he murmured between heated kisses. "You would have wanted to keep me all to yourself."
Tresmer, panting and flushed, responded with a passionate kiss.
"You should have already known after visiting my tribe," she said, her voice thick with desire. “It's an insult to a warrior from my tribe to be with a man who isn't capable of having many wives and women."
Vulkrun chuckled, a low, deep sound that vibrated through his chest. Tresmer bit down again on the other side of his neck, sending a shiver of pain and pleasure through him. His pace quickened, and he plunged deep inside her, their bodies moving as one.
"Yes, that's the kind of man I want," she whispered against his mouth, her eyes shining with a mix of satisfaction and unspoken promise. She locked around him, her insides tightening with a desperate need to draw him in further, to claim every part of him.
Vulkrun moaned in response, feeling himself nearing the edge. Tresmer's moans grew louder, each one a symphony of her rising ecstasy. As he reached his climax, she cried out, her body trembling with the force of her release. She held him tightly, unwilling to let go, as he filled her.
Their shared climax was a culmination of their passion and connection, a powerful release that left them both breathless and sated. Tresmer kissed him deeply, their lips lingering together as they savored the afterglow before resuming once again.
Both lasted through several more turns, each taking the lead in their passionate dance. They shifted positions seamlessly, exploring each other's bodies and desires. Tresmer straddled Vulkrun on the ground. Her hips moved with a primal rhythm as he gazed up at her, hands gripping her thighs and appreciating the beauty in her strength. On the other hand, she enjoyed another perspective of being on top of him. Then on the bed, Vulkrun dominated her, pressing her back against the soft furs as he took control. His powerful thrusts made her arch her back in ecstasy. In the bath, they playfully vied for dominance, splashing water and exchanging fervent kisses. Their intensity only grew, each position revealing new depths of their desire and connection.
As they finally reached the limits of their endurance, they found themselves intertwined on the bed, Tresmer lying atop Vulkrun, her head resting on his chest. Both were breathing heavily, their bodies glistening with sweat, a testament to their exertions. She rested her head on his chest, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his skin. Vulkrun's arms wrapped around her, holding her close. Just as they began to savor the calm after the storm, a tentative voice called from outside the tent.
"Captain Vulkrun and… ummm Lieutenant… Tresmer" came the soft, slightly trembling voice of a female servant.
Tresmer, still catching her breath, raised her head slightly and called out.
"Enter."
The tent flap was pushed aside, and a young woman stepped in. Her eyes widened at the sight of their still-naked, sweat-slicked bodies locked together. Her cheeks turned into a deep shade of crimson. She quickly averted her gaze, trying to maintain her composure while staring at the ground.
"What is it?" Vulkrun, his voice a mix of amusement and curiosity, asked.
The servant, her voice barely above a whisper, replied.
"The cook wanted to inform you that dinner is now being served."
Both of them burst into laughter, the sound filling the tent.
"Tell the cook we’ll be there shortly," Tresmer answered. Vulkrun grinned, his hand gently stroking her back.
The servant, now even redder, quickly bowed and excused herself, leaving the two alone again. Tresmer lifted herself off Vulkrun, their bodies finally separating. She sat up, stretching her limbs with a satisfied smile.
"Well, I suppose we should get dressed," she said, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
"Indeed. Let's get cleaned up and see what the cook has prepared for us."
Reluctantly, they disentangled themselves and rose from the bed. The bathwater had cooled, but they quickly rinsed off the remnants of their passionate session. They dried each other with the soft towels, their touches lingering, a silent promise of more to come later. Once they were dressed, they exited the tent and made their way to the makeshift dining area.
As they sat down to eat, surrounded by their comrades. The smell of roasted meat and fresh bread wafted through the air, a reminder of the simpler pleasures in their life.