The Aresan Clan is published four times a week (Tue, Wed, Fri, Sun). You can see what's been written so far collected here. All posts will be posted under the Aresan Clan label. For summaries of the events so far, visit here. See my previous serial Vampire Wares collected here.

Sunday, August 5, 2012

Aresan Clan pt 8

Annsi greeted Alles affectionately, kissing him on one cheek, while she touched his face. But he continued facing the wall as he spoke, asking her, “Did the child get to sleep?”

“Yes, he did,” she said, “I’ve been telling him some stories from Aresan history. Tonight I told him about the Attack of the Great Eagles. At least he’s learning things. I can never tell whether he likes it or not, but I guess he does since he doesn’t complain. He’s the easiest child to take care of I’ve ever dealt with; I wish I could give him something better.” She didn’t know if Alles was listening to her, until her finally looked in her direction, and she continued, “I feel that if I treat him well it might begin to make up for destroying his home and everyone he’s known and everything he knew. But I also think about his mother and father, who must have, just like the rest of the town, sat back and worshipped him like a mindless idolater bowing before a false God, and never being real parents to him. So, maybe he’s not missing out on all that much.”

“Don’t grow too soft to him,” Alles said, “He may be dangerous. You saw how he captivated that village. Nonetheless, you’ve done well. You are a good soldier.”

This made her blush. Alles was sparse in bestowing compliments, and she felt pleasure at even the smallest one. She kissed him on the cheek, moving in slowly, closing her eyes, kissing him all over the face and neck while his whole head remained motionlessly facing forward, eyes closed. All he wore was a long piece of cloth wrapped around his waist. She hung on his bare shoulder and kissed him again and took off her outer cloak and her boots and her trousers and her shirt, standing beside him while he stared at the wall with an emotionless expression. As she undressed, he switched to a kneeling postured and continued to pray.

She walked over to his washing bowl to clean the dust from her face and from her arms and then rinsed off some of the sweat from the rest of her. She pulled from her bag a small leather sack, in which she carried a precious contraceptive. The contraceptive looked, to one unfamiliar, like a wet mass of green hair. It was made from a dense nest of moss sprinkled with tree oil and stored inside the leather sack in a jam of crushed berries and honey, which fermented in the warmth of her body heat into a sour paste. It was a trusted expedient, commonly used by painted harlots, but known by the moniker of the “Soldier’s Sponge,” for its use among notoriously unchaste female soldiers.

After she inserted this inside of her, she beckoned Alles to the bed behind the deerskin, laying down upon his hay mattress and silently whispering his name. After some moments of prayer, he rose, walked over to the hidden bed and pulled back the skin to expose the naked body of the waiting woman: her pointy, mountain-shaped breasts and the thick triangle of curly hair between her legs. She slowly unrolled the wrap around his waist, and let him lie down between her legs.

After they finished, and he rolled off of her, they lay besides each other and she asked him questions about his life. He mentioned the name of Elisa, a name Annsi had heard before, and she asked, “Who is Elisa?”

“She was a soldier, and quite a soldier at that,” Alles said with great admiration, “I met her in peacetime. She was introduced to me by her father who held a very high opinion of me both as a leader and as a man. I fell in love with her before I even saw her in her first campaign. I had already admired her enough to want to marry her, but it was like a new vein of gold suddenly exposed when I saw her fight. She looked like a soldier too: hard and tough and lean. She was not soft like you. She was not a woman that one wants to wrap one’s arms around naked, but a solid statue to prostrate oneself before. She intimidated the other soldiers, and very likely she could’ve taken down several men at once had they been stupid enough to attack her. Unlike you, she came to my tent every night not because she needed my protection from the other men, but because she wanted to. Out on that battlefield, with her face covered, you could forget her sex; the enemies never knew they met death at the hands of a woman.”

<-- Go to Part 7         Go to Part 9 -->

You can see what's been written so far collected here.

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