Swords with Souls: Three Days Late: The Sword Maker B58

Swords with Souls

A Medieval Fantasy Fiction Story

By Dan Watt

(Author of BARD series)

Book 2 of the BARD series: BARD: Owner of the Gemstone a dark fantasy novel

Cover by Darren Joy

(Author of the Plagueborn series)

A Viral Imperium Book one of the Plagueborn series

– Adult content –

Three Days Late

At first the forest seemed normal, although always dark and cool. But as he led the children deeper in, he came to a wall of blackthorn bushes with patches of bluebells and forget-me-nots. The blue colored berries of the blackthorn bushes were ripe. As instructed by Lord Idris, he told the children to be careful as they picked the berries, for the stems that held them were full of thorns. As the children picked the berries, he secretly placed a forget-me-not into his mouth. Next, he instructed them to sit while they ate the berries. One by one the children fell into a deep sleep. Careful not to damage the flowers, he gently flicked a number of the bluebell flowers. A thunderous dinging sound erupted all around him and a great headache erupted inside his skull. Lord Idris had warned him not to take any of the berries, and he hadn’t, but now he wished he had.

His eyes watered from the pain behind his eyes but he managed to look up. Someone giant-sized with a long, furry rotund upper body and short stubby legs opened a section of the blackthorn bush with wide splayed hands attached to overly long hairy arms. The person’s belly protruded so much he couldn’t tell if they wore a loin cloth or not, nor if they were male or female. He saw other humanish people hurry through the opening. They picked up the children and carried them back through the gap in the blackthorn bush. Some had the head of goats attached to human torsos and goat’s legs. Others had human heads with goat horns, human torsos above the belly button, and bipedal goat legs below. The air was filled with giant fireflies. So he thought until some flew nearby. Through the blinding light he saw naked men and women with dragonfly wings. He felt himself lifted and carried through the gap.

He was set down between giant mushrooms, some of them actively spewing out spores. Sitting up he glanced around but the forest atmosphere was too dark to see many details. All the daylight colours were now different shades of blue. Diminutive men wearing tall hats circled by a wide belt with a buckle and smoking a pipe glanced his way occasionally. That’s when he noticed that each of the orphans had been placed, like him, near a mushroom. They were all sound asleep. He stood up, unsteady at first. In the distance he saw something that caused him to gasp. Two of the goat people were fornicating beside a bush.

“You can’t stay,” a mezzo-soprano female said from behind him.

He turned away from the goat people only to be taken back again as he stared at a lithe woman with skin that glistened with a mixture of tan and tea green. She was quite short compared to him. Her hair curled around the shells that covered her ample breasts and her nether region. “I’ll not leave the children with molesters,” he said, clenching the handle of his sword.

“The satyr are very sexually active, but not with children. And these children are now part of the faie.” She stepped closer to him, so close he could smell mint on her breath. “You cannot stay. Go in peace or we will take something from you.”

“You are gorgeous,” he said and immediately felt embarrassed at saying something so inappropriate for the circumstances.

She had smiled. “You cannot stay but perhaps we will meet again.” She then put what looked like a small mushroom into her mouth. For a moment he just stood there and watched her chew. Once she stopped chewing, she lifted her chin towards his face and blew out a mist. “You cannot stay but we’ll meet again.”

People I Follow

Alvi Gunilla

Swords with Souls: Three Days Late: The Sword Master B57

Swords with Souls

A Medieval Fantasy Fiction Story

By Dan Watt

(Author of BARD series)

Cover by Darren Joy

(Author of the Plagueborn series)

– Adult content –

Three Days Late

Bronzton scowls as he sits on the wicker chair that he made himself feeling moody under the extended overhang of his sod roofed house with its stone and clay walls. The back wall is the natural cliff face of a small hill. Someone would only know where his house was if they saw smoke rise from his chimney stack or the front door. Otherwise, it just appeared to be part of the hill.

This Lady Некромансер would owe him significantly more now. Four days! He has numerous orders to fill. A number of soldiers have brought their swords in with knicks and bends to be reheated or melted down and reformed. Some of the swords are iron. Not much better than bronze and these young soldiers are careless and lazy. Most of the iron swords are coated in rust spots. He has scarce enough clove oil remaining and the ranger Crimthann rarely drops by these days to bring him more. The oil cost him dearly. Crimthann told him he gets it from the book collector and herbalist couple, the giant and his comparatively tiny wife. That means they take the majority of the profit and Crimthann the rest. He would travel to the couple himself but the backorder of weapons he needs to make and repair is getting out of hand. He could use linseed oil.

Some of the naïve soldiers brought him iron swords covered in honey or sap to stop the rusting. He would try to scrape it off first, otherwise he would have to carefully burn it off. Others used bee’s wax. Not a bad idea except when drawing the sword, they would have to be careful it didn’t fly right out of the sheath and cut them or someone nearby. One young soldier had used pine cone sap on his grip so he couldn’t lose his sword. Now the leather thong wrapped around the grip of his sword is useless.

Waiting has brought back memories of what happened after the burning of Buttigieg Gardenery. He had led the orphans that were too young to go with Lord Idris into the black forest to live with the faie.

It was a bizarre time for him.

People I Follow

Hannah_redfoxcloset

Swords with Souls: A Gathering of Mourners B56

Swords with Souls

A Medieval Fantasy Fiction Story

By Dan Watt

(Author of BARD series)

Cover by Darren Joy

(Author of the Plagueborn series)

– Adult content –

A Gathering of Mourners

“How long will this journey take?” he asks conversationally.

“I appreciate you coming along but I’m quite fine,” she tells him dismissively. “You and…I never did catch her name…and your wife, should probably get back to your homestead.”

“She’s not my wife,” he replies.

“No?” Lara asks.

“Endellion is more like a sister,” he replies sarcastically.

“I’ve only seen her with her hood on but she has quite amazing eyes, though they seem to be farther apart than normal.

He had never considered it before but Sir Oisin’s eyes were farther apart than normal. Based on his attraction rate with the women, it just seemed to add to his appeal. He wondered how the warrior with the wonderous singing voice was. Going after Sir Ganbold would be dangerous. It disheartened him to know two men he considered friends were going to perform the dance of death against each other. “Have you ever seen inside the mouth of your giant friend Jedreck?” he asks in a hushed voice.

“That’s a very strange question to ask.”

He glances over and sees her contemplating his question.

“No, I haven’t.”

From behind he hears Endellion’s horse catch up to them. “Sir Oliver is renowned as The Sword Master,” he hears her say.

“That’s nice,” Lara says in reply. He doesn’t hear any surprise or interest in her voice.

“I’m sure he could teach you some lifesaving maneuvers when we stop,” Endellion continues.

“I’m good,” Lara replies.

“You won’t think so when soldiers have their way with you,” Endellion says with such hatred it makes him shiver.

“When we stop for the night he can test me,” Lara replies confidently. “After that, I don’t want to hear about it again.”

“There you go brother,” Endellion says in a charming tone. “We’ll see if a tall thin girl has anything to learn from the Sword Master.”

People I Follow

Roxythezoologist — Wildlife Filmaker

Swords with Souls: A Gathering of Mourners B55

Swords with Souls

Medieval Fantasy Fiction

By Dan Watt

(Author of BARD series)

Cover by Darren Joy

(Author of the Plagueborn series)

– Adult content –

A Gathering of Mourners

Sir Oliver watches Celima check over her granddaughter Lara’s saddlebags while the young woman sits atop her horse impatiently. He’s not going on this journey to study her though but the giant Jedreck. The giant is just too tall for him to get a look in his mouth to see whether he has double teeth or not. While he’s staring, Endellion rides up beside him. She’s hooded with a bow over her back, and a sheathed bronze sword hanging from her waist. The original signature stitching on the sheath has been noticeably unstitched.

“Where did you get the sword from?” he asks. He doesn’t hide the suspicion in his voice. The bow looks bought or self-made. Swords are precious commodities and there’s only a few sword makers and they always leave their mark.

“From someone who doesn’t need it anymore.” She gives him a flash of her teeth.

He grounds his. When he gets back to the castle, he’ll have to see if any soldiers have become suspiciously deceased. “Make sure there isn’t identifying markings,” he warns her.

“She has a nice posture don’t you think,” Endellion says, nodding at Lara who is now trotting towards the circus wagon.

“I’m more interested in the giant right now and how many teeth he has,” he grumbles, lightly squeezing his knees. Alberta speeds up to follow the wagon. He’s already looked to see how many fingers the giant has. Four fingers and a thumb on each hand an no stubs to suggests the sixth were amputated.

“Did you know that with her grandfather gone, the land goes to the youngest male. Her sister Gwen’s son is but a toddler. I hear Lara will have to find a husband soon or all this land will go to the king.”

“I have my own land to worry about,” he replies curtly. The mention of land reminds him, he’ll have to sit down with his father and brothers, and go over how much of the crops they’ll need to separate into tithes for the king. He gently squeezes his knees against Alberta again.

Alberta does a steady trot until they reach Stian and Celima’s eldest granddaughter.

People I Follow

Kate Broderick (artist)

Swords with Souls: A Gathering of Mourners B54

Swords with Souls

Medieval Fantasy Fiction

By Dan Watt

(Author of BARD series)

Cover by Darren Joy

(Author of the Plagueborn series)

– Adult content –

A Gathering

He sinks into the water so only his face is visible. “I have something to ask you,” he says with a hint of trepidation in his voice.

Her heart starts to pound. “What is it?”

“I am getting older and King Leopold is already preparing to replace me with one of Sir Olaf’s men.” She sees him hesitate to make sure his words are sinking in. “I still want to travel but less and for a different reason. I have talked to my nephew and he has given me a section of farmland near the Dark Forest.” He stops talking and just stares at her.

“And?” she asks, encouraging him to continue.

“My nephew told me that he and Endellion are going to ride with Lara and the Circus for a while. He asked me to pass on a message to my relatives that war may be coming and that they needed to be prepared if the king calls them to arms. I was wondering if I could ride with you first.”

“Certainly,” she replies. “Is there anything in particular you wanted to discuss?”

“I would like to marry you,” he blurts out.

≈

People I Follow

Alethia Austin skydive coach

Swords with Souls: A Gathering of Mourners, Madame Swan B53

Swords with Souls

Medieval Fantasy Fiction

By Dan Watt

(Author of BARD series)

Cover by Darren Joy

(Author of the Plagueborn series)

– Adult content –

A Gathering of Mourners

The army was traveling beside a river when she saw clusters of nightshade, wolfsbane, and cuckoo pint. She carefully collected some of each and dropped them into a hollowed-out gourd. Adding some water from the river and lots of ground up valerian root with a spot of wine, she waited until the commander was drinking with his men. He was boisterous and loud as he told his men how he had his way with all the women. As she walked by, he saw her and called her over. She was hoping he would. Now she could get close enough to discreetly pour the contents of the gourd in his drink.

Holding the gourd, she went to him. He pulled her onto his lap. She hadn’t expected that. ‘These sluts love to have sex with me, anytime, anywhere,’ he boasted as he slid one greasy hand along her left thigh and grabbed her hair with the other. Desperate now to trick him, she laughed and pretended to drink from the gourd. ‘What’s this?’ he shouted out for all his men to hear. Grabbing the gourd from her, he gulped the contents down. ‘You can fetch me more of that when we’re done,’ he had cackled, ‘once you can walk again.’ He forced her arms behind her and held them with one hand while he lifted the hem of dress with the other.

She struggled furiously as he pulled down her shift. ‘Now bend over.’ He was terribly strong, and the pain in her wrists forced her to do as he commanded. ‘Smile for the boys so they know you like it,’ he shouted. Instead, she howled a horrible cry. She felt like she was being split open. It hurt but worse than the pain was the degrading way he made her face his men while he pounded into her. She almost did smile, when he went limp and fell back. ‘Too much to drink,’ he slurred to his men and fell asleep. Embarrassed and furious she hurried away.

A few days later she was told to visit the commander. She entered a makeshift tent with only three canvas walls with a folding table in the center. On top of the table, she saw a cloth map splayed out with numerous stones set in different areas. The noble she once followed into the wood’s stared back at her with grey eyes full of depth. His long hair and beard were mostly salt and pepper. He looked too old to be leading men into battle.

‘Sergeant Cole is in a very critical state,’ he said to her in a formal voice. ‘Some of his men told how you were violated by him.’ He hesitates before drawing in a long breath. ‘You will be compensated and….’ Again, he hesitates, his expression one of awkwardness. ‘You need to be inspected for any signs of infection.’

‘I understand,’ she replied in a quiet voice.

He slid her a leather pouch. When she lifted it, she was surprised how heavy it was.

‘Keep your legs together until your present condition is determined. Dismissed,’ he told her, diverting his eyes as he did.

Later that day a familiar soldier with keen blue eyes and muscular forearms came to visit her. She and Surgeon Haelen often worked side-by-side to heal wounded soldiers. ‘Sorry for what happened to you Phoebe,’ he had said. For some reason she felt her real name would give people power over her so she had kept the name Phoebe. ‘It’s not like most men haven’t been there,’ she had replied.

She knew why Sergeant Cole was terribly ill, so she pretended to be worried as she slid off her slip and raised the hem of her dress. Interestingly enough, Haelen did not poke into her private area. While his head was under her dress and his hands held her legs apart, he said, ‘I don’t see any signs of symptoms. Everything looks healthy here.’ She laughed at that. He talked as if she was an ornate drinking cup he was inspecting to see if it were worth buying.

The next time she met Sergeant Cole was after a battle. So many soldiers were lost that day, and so many had critical wounds. The worst for her, was the noble who gave her the heavy pouch. She had never learned his name. She only heard other commanders refer to him as Lord. A young soldier, surely not much older than her came to be with him. The soldier was shorter than most. His build was thin but his hands and forearms rippled with muscle. His face was similar to Sir Ganbold’s but longer and lighter in complexion. As the Lord lay on a cot with a gouge across the right side of his head from an axe, the young soldier observed, ‘He must have partially blocked the attack or it would have been much deeper.’

‘I concur Master Sword Maker,’ Haelen said. ‘Whether he lives or dies, he must be brought back to the king.’

‘I’ll use my weapons cart,” the younger master replied.

“Madame Swan,” she hears behind her. She opens her eyes and turns her head to see Crimthann stripping. He steps into the stream. For a moment he stands there, his upper thighs and higher bare before her. She stares into his eyes. Normally, this would lead to sex but there’s something else going on here. She shivers but not in fear.

People I Follow

Cellistlidia

Swords with Souls: A Gathering of Mourners B52

Swords with Souls

Medieval Fantasy Fiction

By Dan Watt

(Author of BARD series)

Cover by Darren Joy

(Author of the Plagueborn series)

– Adult content –

A Gathering of Mourners

As she ate, she learned that the reason the soldiers were here was to put down a revolt by a clan unwilling to join the proper king’s kingdom. The gruff soldier commanded one of the younger soldiers to take her to the followers. As they walked, the soldier steered her between some beech trees. ‘You’re very attractive,’ he told her, gently pressing her up against a tree trunk.

‘Are you going to force yourself on me?’ she asked, her hand sliding over the handle of her curved knife.

‘Never,’ he replied with a boyish grin, and stepped back.

She found him attractive, and he stirred her desire. ‘But you want me?’ she asked seductively.

‘I do. But not forever,’ he said with an experienced voice for one so young. ‘But I will remember forever,’ he continued looking down at her body.

She had taken his hand and placed it on one of her breasts. He was rugged and tender all at once.

That was the beginning of her career. Some of the soldiers she slept with, others she helped heal. To the younger soldiers, she felt like a teacher in the art of desire and it helped her discover the best way to prolong or speed up an orgasm. Seeing the different personalities, except for one, amused her. Sex with some of the commanders was often fast and methodical with lots of grunts and little to no talking. She started using castor oil for those who felt the back door wasn’t considered cheating on their wives. However, there were some soldiers that never visited her or the other girls.

One evening, feeling curious she stealthily followed a noble commander into the woods. Her keen eyesight let her see him stand towards a tree trunk as if to relieve himself. Instead, he took out what appeared to be a section of a woman’s shift. In the darkness it was hard to make out but she thought there was an image embroidered onto the piece of shift. He kept repeating the name Asghari between grunts. In the words of men, the seed will come out one way or another. She still didn’t understand why the noble’s act made her weep that night. She had felt hollow inside, like a voyeur. But her will had always been strong and the feeling soon faded. Some of the soldiers were more daring, taking their time. Like Brent, the soldier who pulled her aside the first day. Not only did he explore her but he did it gently and rhythmically. From him, she learned the joys of sex.

As the army moved deeper into enemy territory, she became enamored towards Brent. Hoping he would lay with her more and more. But war isn’t all sexual passion; it’s also full of horrifying violence. She tried to save Brent after an enemy’s spear tore through his boiled leather breast plate. Shortly after his death, a heavy-set commander started to visit her more often. He was huge and treated her and the other girls like sexual slaves. He would degrade her as he pounded into her, causing her to bleed. Laughing he would grab her hair and tell her how much she liked it. But it wasn’t until she needed to use salves on one of the other girl’s nether regions and on the bruises on her neck, and the missing nipple the commander bit off, that she became enraged.

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Posing_foxy

Swords with Souls: A Gathering of Mourners B51

(Swords with Souls)

Medieval Fantasy Fiction

By Dan Watt

(Author of BARD series)

Cover by Darren Joy

(Author of the Plagueborn series)

– Adult content –

A Gathering of Mourners

She nuzzles her bare bottom closer to Crimthann’s groin. Sometime in the night he had wrapped her in his cloak while they lay on hers. She couldn’t recall if they had made love or just held each other under the moonlight. It was dawn and they were lying on branches of cedar leaves he had cut off for them. She feels him caress her left breast then slide his hand down her side to her hips before he carefully gets up.

“I’m awake,” she says and sits up. In the orange light she can make out other lying figures near the shore.

“Then I’ll make us some gruel and mint tea,” he says in a soft voice.

She watches him go to his horse’s saddlebags and pull out a brass pot and burlap sack with oats inside. This man is always prepared. She stands up naked and shivers. Before she cowards out, she steps into the surprising warm stream that leads to the pond where Stain was burned. She lays her back against the bank so that only her face and breasts are visible above the refreshing water. Still tired, she closes her eyes and remembers surviving alone.

After the Romani were attacked, she had fled into the woods. For days she lived on small fish caught in streams, frogs but not toads, and berries and edible plants. She wandered aimlessly until she came upon a path. Following the path north she soon smelt food. Damian had explained to her the importance of hiding her most precious possessions. First, she scanned the nearby forest for the presence of anyone else. Next, she found an easy to find landmark, an ancient willow tree growing beside a wide stream. Her eyes darted everywhere as she dug a hole into the soil near the base of the willow. Once her treasure was buried, she tossed the extra dirt around and pulled a rock out of the stream. She placed it over the spot and torqued it into the ground so it looked natural. Scanning her surroundings once again she stepped back and memorized where her treasure was now buried.

As she started traveling again the smell of meat cooking from somewhere nearby made her mouth water. Between two poplar trees she noticed a lone sentry with a shawm. When the sentry saw her, he was about to blow a warning into the musical instrument. She smiled seductively at him. With a grin he lowered the shawm. Swaying her hips she continued on past him, making sure she smiled as she did. A little further on she saw a circle of soldiers cooking deer and rabbit on spits. The food made her drool and her stomach growl. All the men’s gazes turned towards her as she came closer.

A powerful looking soldier with intense blue eyes stood up. In a gruff and commanding voice, he told her, ‘Go back with the followers. This is no place for women.’

Desperately, she tried to think of something that would let her stay. Glancing around she noticed all the men looked haggard. Most had arms or legs wrapped in cloth with visible spots of blood. During her time with the Romani, Alifair had taught her a number of salves, tinctures, and the proper way to wrap a wound. Alifair had also explained deadly herbs and how to use them but she hoped that would never be necessary. ‘I have healing skills,’ she said, desperate for some food.

People I Follow

Valentina Moeller

Swords with Souls: A Gathering of Mourners B50

(Swords with Souls)

Medieval Fantasy Fiction

By Dan Watt

(Author of BARD series)

Cover by Darren Joy

(Author of the Plagueborn series)

– Adult content –

A Gathering of Mourners

Lara watches as her grandfather’s corpse burns to ash.

“I heard you’re good with knives,” a confident female voice asks from beside her.

She jolts from the sudden appearance of the hooded girl who came with Madame Swan. “Why do you ask?” she asks clenching her hands over the knife and dagger she has belted to her dress.

“Do you know Sir Oliver?” the girl asks.

“Of him, his uncle I know.” She tries to hear the intent of the conversation in the girl’s voice but it just sounds conversational.

“He’s looking for a companion I hear. Someone inconspicuous to guard him.”

She snickers. “No man would dare have a girl protector, it would make him look weak, and like a fool.”

“Aren’t men fools anyway?” the girl asks, and this time there is a furiousness to her voice.

“Being one and getting called one are two different things.” She gazes across the pond. Her grandfather built sturdy things, and although his corpse is mostly ash now, the row boat might be salvageable. Would he want that? It wasn’t like his soul would haunt her if she kept it. Tomorrow, early, she would go with the circus caravan to give his soul and the deceased grandfather of Ganesha a new home. “Perhaps another day would be more appropriate to have this conversation,” she chastises the girl.

“Tomorrow we will talk again,” the girl replies with a more sensitive tone.

“Tomorrow, I leave early so you’ll have to wait much longer than that.” Did this girl not drink the special grog she and Gwen prepared with their grandmother? There was no dreaminess apparent in her voice.

“I’ll go with you as soon as I get Madame Swan home safely.”

Lara glances at Madame Swan and the very close standing ranger Crimthann. “I don’t think she’ll need your protection.”

“Then I’ll go with you on the mornin’. You really should have proper protection. I’ll talk to Sir Oliver.”

“Don’t bother.” Lara starts to say but the girl has already disappeared into the night.

People I Follow

Home

Swords with Souls: A Gathering of Mourners B49

(Swords with Souls)

Fantasy Fiction

By Dan Watt

(Author of BARD series)

Cover by Darren Joy

(Author of the Plagueborn series)

– Adult content –

A Gathering of Mourners

Other strange creatures, barely visible against the tree trunks or plants they stand near wipe tears away. Upright standing rabbits wearing jerkins and smoking long pipes watch from an open patch of grass before a blackthorn hedge. Peering between ash trees is a large headed person with a boulder sized body. The eyes of this person are wide with interest. A bulbous nose sniffs while a gaping mouth chews on leaves.

She shivers from the sight of what she can only imagine are faie but then settles into the warmth of Crimthann’s arm. That’s when she notices Endellion is missing. She glimpses around and sees the hooded figure standing near Lara. It was a mistake to tell Endellion about Lara’s natural abilities to fight. When Lara was still a little girl her mother brought her with her to the brothel with bottles and jars of ointments and perfumes. Lara had noticed the curved Romani knife she kept strapped to her left thigh. Intrigued by the girl’s interest she took the knife out and demonstrated some of the knife techniques Damian had shown her. Lara asked if she could try. She had turned to Celima, who nodded her approval. Lara emulated her technique exactly, and with vigor. The girl was a natural fighter. Perhaps that’s why Celima and Stian let her ride out on her own.

She turns back to the burning corpse of Stian as his rowboat floats to the middle of the pond.

“When are you leaving?” she barely hears Crimthann ask her. His tone is cool as usual but with a tinge of shakiness.

“It’s warm enough to sleep outside,” she says, leaning into him. He used to pay to visit her but over the years he stopped paying for her bed and just brought her fresh vegetables and occasionally fruit and wrapped meat. For her and the girls, he would say shyly, before quickly departing.

“I have a question to ask you in the morning,” he says with more sternness than perhaps he intended. Or maybe not.

“Well, you’ll need to stay near me than,” she coos.

≈

People I follow

Megan Skelton (artist)

A Medieval Fantasy Fiction Story

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