Glen

Honesty goes both ways

Luthos lost a thumb,

Trying to climb a wall.

Made a mess of his knee,

when he came to and begun to crawl.

—

Written under a drawing

of a dwarf pissing standing up,

On the south wall of the Dome of the Five,

in the city of Alden

(circa 191 NC)

Stiles is lookin’ suspicious as fuck.

He tried to walk fast past him, but Glen tackled the former pirate swiftly moving twice as fast; his mood, already deteriorating at a steady pace for the last couple of weeks on the road, taking another dip seeing him munching on something, he quickly swallowed almost killing himself in the process. Given that Iskay and Ninan, the slave girls, hadn’t finished preparing the meal yet, the young ‘Lord’ was understandably livid.

“What was that?” Glen asked angrily.

Stiles sucked on his yellow teeth to clean them up best he could, while he lied without shame.

“Nothing, milord.”

Ye lying piece of shit.

“Have ye stolen from the supplies again? Was it ye, all along?”

“I reject the accusation, milord!” Stiles protested, looking guilty as all hells.

“Is that a yes?”

“No, milord. The opposite.”

Hah!

“It’s too late to change it now. The truth will come out! What was it?”

“A biscuit,” Stiles admitted.

“Where did ye find it?” Glen probed, taken aback, as they were fresh out of those. He’d rifled through their supplies looking for something edible himself, while everyone else was asleep.

Had he missed it?

“Phon’s man brought it for his sister, milord.”

Ah.

They were moving so slow these past weeks, the caravan was able to keep up with them and Phon was visiting frequently to see his sister and talk with the dwarfs about business opportunities. Glen didn’t agree with any of this, but he couldn’t will the women and that darn donkey to move any faster. It was a slow moving nightmare.

“Just the one?” He probed, eyeing pretty Sen using a brush to clean a blanket she’d placed down as a carpet, stools on top of that, framing a small ivory table. Whatever dust she brushed away, was coming right back, since despite the time spent traveling, they were still in the wilderness of the fast drying up Steppe.

“A box of them, milord. I gave it to yer wife,” Stiles explained.

The term pissing Glen off, as he’d gotten all the vinegar from the arrangement, but none of the sugar, since despite Sen being outwardly docile and meek, he couldn’t get anything done with her. That woman was a fiend.

A viper wearing a sheep’s skin.

Sen turned sensing his eyes and smiled at him broadly, cute dimples on her cheeks nigh perfect, the smile turning naughty at the tail end of it and full of promises. All a fuckin’ trap, but still he waved back like an idiot at her.

Glen sighed. She was pretty darn convincing, he had to give her that.

Tempting like Naossis and perhaps twice as talented in seduction.

Apologies Goddess.

“Sen needs a place to stay,” He murmured and Stiles standing next to him gawking shamelessly at his wife blinked and turned his head to look at Glen.

“Like a house? Milord.”

House sounded ungodly expensive.

“Well, a small one perhaps. In a city,” Glen grimaced. “She keeps subtly hinting at it, crying even at night.”

“It’s not easy sleeping under the stars, milord. Wit no roof over yer head,” Stiles commented, sounding rather emotional about it.

They’re faking it, ye darn idiot!

Glen had no problem sleeping outside.

And I’m a god darn Lord of the Realm, for fuck’s sake!

“Anyways,” Glen continued. “It doesn’t have to even be a house, a room at an inn, could suffice.”

“It’s rather costly renting in this market, milord,” Stiles commented.

Glen eyed him. “It is, isn’t it?”

“Aye, milord. Waste of good coin.”

Damn it, Glen thought, even this fool sees the truth of it!

“Still I have to find her something,” Glen sighed. “First I need to find the coin of course.”

“Damn shame Jinx took off wit yer gold, milord,” Stiles added sadly, never missing an opportunity to accuse someone else of mischief.

“She didn’t. I got knifed and left behind, Stiles. Jinx probably thinks I’m dead.”

Fuck, he thought. What if she spends everything? Then what?

Pfft, the problems, just keep piling up!

“I have to find work,” Glen blurted. Scope out the next town, or Rida for a good score.

“What about yer wife’s gold, milord?”

“Her brother controls the funds,” Glen replied. “He promised to release some to her, but I don’t trust him to keep out of my business and I don’t want him near her.”

“So what manner of job, milord?” Stiles asked.

“Well, I’ll have to check a bit first,” Glen said absentmindedly, still thinking about a way to get access to Sen’s fortune, without her brother finding out.

“We could always try the fields out, it’s close to the season—”

Glen whipped his head and glared at him.

“Are ye fuckin’ serious?”

“Milord?” Stiles queried, stumbling back a step. “Apologies, ye talked about finding a job and I assumed—”

“I wasn’t talking about digging ditches, or plowin’ the god darn fields, for Luthos sake!”

“Of course, milord.”

Luthos give patience!

“I was meaning, finding opportunities, Stiles,” Glen explained patiently.

The man puckered his mouth, his wild beard all over the place, hairs hard like nails, what little skin shown, burned to a crisp, first by salt, then the sun.

“Like what, milord?”

Glen had enough. “Ye know what? How about ye offer an idea for once? Huh? Give something to the fuckin’ conversation Stiles and don’t expect everything offered on a darn plate from me!” He puffed out hard, realizing he’d screamed a bit at the end and people turned to watch them.

It wasn’t a good look.

“Apologies, milord. Thing is, only skill I learned in me life is plundering,” Stiles said, giving him a small bow.

Glen perked up at that.

“Is there coin in it?” He asked quite interested.

“Plunderin’ milord? Aye. Well, ye need to think about location, I suppose and have luck. Good information, also helps a lot,” Glen was nodding him along, while Stiles talked.

“Like all schemes,” He added and Stiles frowned.

“There’s a chance people might get hurt, milord.”

“People die all the time building roofs, or selling cabbages,” Glen deadpanned.

“They do?”

“Sure, but yer not hearing about it,” Glen added, looking at him knowingly.

“Ahm.”

“What is it Stiles? Yer don’t agree?”

The former pirate, licked his lips and stared at his boots.

“Speak, ye fool!” Glen snapped.

“Ye’ll need a ship of sorts, milord,” Stiles blurted out. “And it ain’t gonna be easy, bringing yer slaves along.”

Glen frowned and stared towards Sen again. Were those silver spoons she put on that table, are ye fucking kidding me?

“You know I’m wholly set against slavery, Stiles,” Glen informed his slave, tone of his voice deathly serious. “I don’t condone it, nor will I suffer it for long.”

He’d memorized the whole thing.

Stiles blinked, shocked at his outburst, or the irony of it and turned his head towards the pit, Glen following his eyes to where the two slave girls where busy preparing their meal. Ninan that is, as the redhead Iskay was busy feeding the animals, or pretending she did, to avoid work.

The heavy-bosomed Ninan, long brown hair caught in a bun, was stooped over the big iron cauldron and worked a ladle hard. It had beans, lard and pieces of dried pork meat in, the latter to soften up some as it was almost un-eatable. The long green tunic she wore, had an opening that had started up modest in the morning, but now standing over the cauldron as she was, it had increased spectacularly, its illustrious contents spilling out, but for a tiny portion still covered that hang on for dear life, from a piece of garment and part of a fat dark brown nipple.

Good grief.

Glen gulped down, spotting out of the corner of his eye Stiles gawking, equally amazed at the massiveness displayed here and cleared his throat to get his attention.

A couple of times at least.

“I have to let them go, Stiles,” Glen said, the moment his manservant took his mystified eyes off the plump Cofol girl.

“Milord!” Stiles protested, a look of horror on his face. “What of your wife?”

Uh?

Luthos lost a thumb, trying to climb a plaguin' wall.

“What of her?” Glen asked standing back, as he didn’t expect such a reaction, or the conversation to turn in that direction.

“The girls help her through this difficult time,” Stiles explained, suddenly a lot more eloquent than he’d ever been in the past. “They clean, wash her, talk to her about woman stuff.”

“Woman stuff?” Glen repeated, in mocking tone, to hide his ignorance on the matter.

What in the slovenly fuck was that?

“Aye, also they cook, milord,” They both glanced towards Ninan at that, the conversation almost getting derailed completely.

“Listen Stiles, yes they help, but still—” Stiles put his hand on Glen’s elbow interrupting his chain on thought. Glen glared at him for touching his person and the former pirate snatched his hand back, speaking as fast as he could, sounding desperate.

“Ye’ll doom them, milord. Send ‘em to their death. Two girls alone in the Steppe, bah! We’re practically in the desert already! They’ll get enslaved right back I bet ye, or raped, killed even. There are all manner of scoundrels about us and gods only know, but surely as many brigands and their likes! Might as well cut their throats now and spare ‘em the torment, milord.”

It was an impressive tirade, Glen had to give him that.

And he did.

“This was the first convincing argument ye made,” Glen said and Stiles slightly flushed and sweaty, stared at his worn boots a little apprehensively. “I’ll take it under consideration.”

“Why, thank you, mil’rd.”

Glen sighed, pleased he got some work done for the day, although it was still early morning and then sniffed at the air long, before smacking his lips and turned to a seemingly still overwhelmed Stiles. The thought of losing the girls so soon, had almost crashed his spirit.

“That stew, or whatever, smells rather fine,” Lord Reeves casually observed. “Cooking is a much sought after skill.”

“Aye, it is, milord,” A relieved Stiles replied.

His horse had a nervous tick it did, with its ear. The left one. It kept turning it in an arc, as if to listen for sounds coming from the arid terrain around them, miles upon miles of the same flatness extending to their west, the same mountain range to their east. Worried for a danger hidden in plain sight. The horse’s worry, mirroring his.

It troubled Glen, not being certain about those near him. Making new friends had liven up his life, opened up his world, helped him travel the Realm, from one continent to another, but what did he really know? He mused, glancing towards Sen-Iv riding alongside him, a pained expression on her face. What was real? What did he know, of these new people? Bound to him by contract. An arrangement to avoid a scandal, was something alien to him and what he got out of the deal, while alluring, didn’t let him relax enough to enjoy it.

Perhaps even on purpose.

“The sun is setting,” Marcus reported, much like he always did, every single day, at the exact same time. A man married to a schedule, to stuff arranged in a specific order, dependable and real, but loyal to a Lord that was not. Glen missed the old knight. He still expected him to pop out of nowhere and give him the business. Emerson was rough around the edges, but he had Glen’s back from the first moment he saw him. All based on a lie as well, but the knight would never question him, if he fucked something up. The former Decanus might.

“We will stop for the night,” Fikumin said, Norec just grunting as he always did, his mood pensive. The dwarfs were a mystery. Lith trusted Fikumin obviously, had tasked him to keep Glen safe and away from magic. The latter a bother. Another problem was, Lith wasn’t there, a fact he regretted, as he missed her company as well, such as it was. The mystery behind her, worth exploring.

Perhaps even as much as his spouse, which apparently in Cofol, was just another name for a slave.

“You will stay wit me,” Glen told Sen-Iv and whatever she thought of it, never reached her perfectly made up face. “Let the girls sleep alone.”

“That’s the second split in the mountains,” Fikumin said, standing near the small pit, at the center of their camp, while their cots were prepared. “We will reach it tomorrow. Phon will go ahead and take the next one, then on to Queen’s Oasis. If we want to follow him, then we don’t need to have this talk.”

Glen sighed. “We won’t follow him.”

“Are you sure?”

“It is better to reach Rida on our own.”

“Then tomorrow, we must cut east towards the mountains,” Fikumin said. “Follow the second of Yeriden’s tributaries either to the Threerivers Bridge, or attempt a crossing somewhere else along the river.”

“Is it possible?” Glen asked, not familiar with topography. He had looked at a map Phon had, but it was like trying to read Cofol.

Backwards.

“Small boats make the crossing, up and down the river. Rafts really. Not enough to carry an army across, but a party our size? Aye, I think it is. The bridge though is probably quicker.”

“The Khan’s army is gunning for that bridge,” Glen replied. “The Duke, if he has half a brain will try to stop him there. That’s a lot of angry soldiers gathered in one place, the majority probably chomping at the bit to kill me.”

“You don’t know that, Glenavon.”

“We will avoid the bridge,” Glen decided. “Sneaking in, is the better choice.”

Also the one, he was the most comfortable with.

Sen-Iv had prepared two sleeping spots side by side, when he reached her. The girls had moved their cots next to her and Stiles, now standing guard on the other side of the fire, had his spot on Glen’s side.

“Tell them to move,” Glen ordered her.

“It helps me sleep well, having them close, husband,” Sen-Iv whispered and Glen grimaced, not wanting to play the same game again.

“You won’t need the second cot, Sen.”

No god darn reaction at all.

“Of course,” She replied.

Glen sighed and found his spot, used her blanket to make a pillow and lay his head on it, staring at the night sky. Sen-Iv came to stand over him, opal eyes dark, much as her face, the fire behind her.

“What are you waiting for, Sen?” Glen asked.

“Husband, should I undress—”

“Stop that!” Glen hissed and raised his head to give her a glare. “I have a name I prefer and… you may not.”

“Forgive me, Glenavon.”

A tick appeared on Glen’s left eye, the eyelid quivering and he had to grind his teeth not to yell at her in front of the others. Most seemingly sleeping, but probably eavesdropping under the covers.

He could allow a Zilan and a dwarf to call him with the dead’s man name, but not her.

“Glen,” He said through his teeth. “Try to remember it, Sen. You’re trying my patience.”

Sen-Iv bit her lower lip, gave him a slight nod of the head and lowered herself next to him. Glen had left almost no room for her on the crude cot. He left her sitting on her knees, as he examined her barely visible face.

“You are not my wife, Sen,” Glen explained, getting no reaction out of her. “I don’t enjoy the term used as it whispers of intimacy, when we’re bind by a contract instead, I shouldn’t have signed. What a wife means to normal… to my people, is something different. We… don’t have that, yet. I have no idea, if we are ever going to get there.”

Might as well, turn around and talk to that rock next to the donkey, he thought, seeing her frozen expression.

“What I’m trying to say, is that I don’t trust you,” Glen continued talking alone, as he found it rather cathartic. “I have friends, I trust, because they had my back. I don’t know you and I can’t learn about you, if you’re not talking.”

“What should I say, Glen?” Sen-Iv said, in her whispery voice.

“See what ye did there? That’s exactly what the problem is.”

“You can have as much intimacy as you wish.”

Glen shook his head. “That’s not what intimacy is. I don’t want a wife, or even a lover that can’t say no, Sen. I don’t need to. I mean, I wouldn’t mind to see what you have under there some more. All of you is perfect and you know it, but it comes with baggage. I don’t like that in a lover and if I’m desperate to fornicate, the moment I find some coin, I can get all that in Rida.”

Ah, the last part, I shouldn’t have said, he thought grimacing, but glancing at Sen, it was as if she was listening to him talking about paint drying on a wall.

Slow, boring and without surprises.

Good grief.

“Apologies,” He said just the same. “I wasn’t likening you to a prostitute.”

“There’s no prostitute that can do what I can, Glen,” Sen-Iv replied calmly. There was a hint there of something sinister, but he could’ve been mistaken.

Push harder.

“Well, many a families were wrecked back home—”

“Not where I’m from,” Sen-Iv stopped him.

“Let me guess why. I can have as many wives as I can,” Glen countered and got a pout out of the stoic woman. “Or slaves, right?”

“If you have me,” Sen-Iv said. “You’ll never want another wife, or a slave.”

Hah, that must’ve hit a nerve.

“But I could,” Glen taunted her even more. “And I probably will.”

“Of course.”

Glen snorted. “Yer lying.”

“It is what I believe,” Sen replied, an exceptional dodge. Almost perfect.

“I want the truth, Sen. Unvarnished, as you feel it. It’s how I like my friends. It’s why I fight them. It is also why I trust them.”

“You already have everything.”

“No I don’t,” Glen sighed and looked at the cool night surrounding them. Stiles was stooped over his sword, across from them, blanket over his shoulders and Glen could see his face over the fire.

“I’m not asleep, milord,” Stiles said.

“Were ye listening?”

“Tried not to, milord.”

“Well, keep up the good work,” Glen retorted rolling his eyes. He looked at Sen still waiting on her knees and sighed, then moved his arse to leave her some more room. Patted the spot next to him. “Plant it here, while ye still can.”

Sen blinked, taken aback.

“Did ye see where I pointed?” Glen asked, suspecting what had happened.

“I missed it.”

Ah.

“I left ye room on the blanket,” He told her with a grin. “Don’t freak out. A kiss I might ask for goodnight, the heavy stuff I prefer not to do with an audience.”

“Gratitude, milord.” Marcus grunted.

Oh, boy.

Sen-Iv made herself comfortable next to him, her arms very cold, but when Glen tried to give her a little bit of the blanket, he’d over his legs, she cupped his head with both her hands, palms covering his ears and dragged it up and towards her face.

I should stop her, Glen thought, leaving it at that.

Sen’s face grew as she approached him, exotic eyes gleaming and unreadable, much as her expression. Then her lips touched his forehead, a blatant miss that confused him at first, roused him next, when they run a moist path from the root, down the bridge of his nose and freaked him out last, when her pearly teeth caught the soft tip and held it, while she stared into his eyes.

There was as much lust in that stare, as ferocity and it was the latter that unnerved him.

“I will never hurt you, Glen,” Sen said, releasing her grip on his hapless nose. “But if its honesty you seek, then the contract we have, leaves it to my discretion, whether I’ll comply with your demand, or not.”

“It’s not a demand,” Glen croaked, still shook and judging by the state of his cock, quite affected by her foreplay.

Sen-Iv rested her cheek on his shoulder, using a hand to pull the blanket over both their bodies. The night lowered the temperature in the Steppe, especially if the winds picked up.

“And I’m not just another slave you picked in the market,” She replied, her whispery voice clear and now that she could hear her, so near his ear, extremely soothing. “I can be your wife. I can be your friend and I will be your lover, but if it’s honesty you most want, then I would like that as well, from you.”

Glen frowned, snapping out of the euphoria and tried to move, but she’d snaked up her body on him, her right leg trapping his and he couldn’t.

“What do you want to know?” He asked, just to see what had her interested in him at last.

“How did you do it?” Sen-Iv asked.

“Did what?”

“How did you understand me that night?”

Ha-ha. I ain’t telling you that girl, Glen thought, with a grin.

But I can lie, wit the best of them.

“I’m a fast learner dear. It’s a skill,” He teased her and Sen teased him back in her tongue, her words beautiful and completely indecipherable.

Luthos lost a thumb, trying to climb a wall.

Glen blinked, caught in a trap. He glared at her, but he’d one hand under his head and the other snuggled against her soft breast, a whole wide palm of it and nowhere near his dagger.

A chuckling Luthos added,

Made a mess of his knee, when he came to

and begun to crawl.

“I… don’t know, what that means,” He was forced to admit, a little flustered.

“It means, you never did learned it, Glen,” Sen-Iv replied in common, with a rare precious chuckle. “And it’s not a skill. It never was.”

“Heh, fine… you caught me,” Glen made a face and pinched her where it would hurt, right at the ring. “Don’t ever do this again,” He warned her and Sen narrowed her eyes, remarkably unfazed other than that, but for her breath coming out a bit heavier now. “I’m serious, woman!” Glen hissed, the others be damned.

“Only if you promise me you will,” Sen-Iv deadpanned, sounding twice as serious as he did and as loud.

Glen scrunched his unshaven face this way and that, until he figured out, what her waken up at last. Sen raised a thin brow mockingly, as if to let him know, he had figured out that part of their relationship perfectly.

Right, Glen thought with a shudder and more scared, than intrigued.

Now what?

Three things the fake Lord Reeves learned that night about her.

He knew nothing about Cofol women, whether they were free, slaves, or anything in between, especially this Cofol woman that shared his bed.

Sen-Iv was extremely clever and not a fool.

Sen-Iv was way more experienced than him as far as copulating was concerned and not just because she was four years older.

And lastly, hurt and pain for this strange woman wasn’t torment, but pleasure.

Fine, that’s four blasted things.