C O N A N
C H A P T E R T W O : T H E A S K H A U R I A N
My dreams were veiled, twisting things...creatures long forgotten coiling in the dark, waiting to feed. I tried to escape the blackness staring at me, drawing me in. It was in my struggle that I heard a voice, like warm tides on the Vendhyan shore. Soothing me, the voice whispered something I did not understand but the words massaged into my thrashing mind and I fell back into a peaceful rest.
I awoke suddenly, disoriented as I sat up in bed. It took me a moment to remember where I was, but it was hard to forget with that pulsing sting emanating from my ass. I glanced over to see if Conan of Cimmeria had stayed, but all traces of him were gone except for the lingering musk that clung to the bed sheets. I felt that I knew he would depart, but there was a small part of me that had held out hope. I shook my head, rejecting the thought instantly. I had more important things to worry about.
Spurred by the knowledge that the inn servants could come in at any time to find me sleeping in our most expensive room, I quickly hopped out of bed and got dressed. I made the bed haphazardly and threw some dried incense leaves on top of the throw, then turned to leave. But before I could throw the latch on the door, a glinting object caught my eye. Slowly walking over to a lantern-stand in the southwest corner of the room, I looked down in confusion.
An ornately forged dagger was lying on its side, catching the morning light on its blade. I had spent some time in my uncle's Vendhyan forgery, watching every type of metal crafted into fearsome weapons. The workmanship of this rune-engraved blade was exquisite, sharpened to a hairline edge and slightly curved. Gilded vines wrapped around the top and bottom of the hilt with the finest leather binding its handle. A dagger of this caliber would drive traders to kill each other and kings to take the company of the lowest townsman in possession of its beauty. I reached out to take it, but hesitated as my fingers grazed its golden leaves. It would be dangerous to carry such a thing in broad daylight, so instead I placed it in a small drawer beneath the stand for safe-keeping and headed out.
It was unusually quiet for the midmorning meal as I walked down the hallway. The hustle of traders and sailors along the Messantian docks in the morning had always been an inescapable sound, but a heavy silence lingered on the air this day...as if the gods themselves were holding their breath. The hairs on the back of my neck twitched anxiously as I turned the corner to the larger corridor leading to the main hall. Before I made it to the main dining area, I suddenly heard sharp voices from the direction of the bar. It sounded like they were arguing. I stifled my nervousness—Bronick the barkeep was probably telling some poor drunken sap that mead was not part of the breakfast menu. Turning the corner without a second thought, apprehension became horror as I silently cursed my unwillingness to trust my instincts.
Two Koth guardsmen and an Askhaurian mercenary stood in the middle of the room next to a fourth man kneeling with his head pushed to the ground. Fear ricocheted through my gut as I glimpsed their familiar attire. They all had faces accustomed to the carnage of battle, their faces smeared with dirt and red war paint. They were clothed in barbed silver armor and black leather smeared with the dried blood of human sacrifices. The Askhaurian, recognizable by a head shaved of all except a long black ponytail, leaned down and grabbed a handful of the kneeling victim's hair—as he pulled up his head, I recognized Bronick. His face was badly bruised with blood dripping from his lips. The warriors had not noticed me but as Bronick looked across the room and our eyes met, worry flashed unbidden across his features. Curious at his change of expression, the man who had grabbed Bronick's hair turned and looked at me.
"Well, well, well...look what decided to crawl from beneath the floorboards." His voice was a deep rasp, one that I knew all too well. "Thelios of Vendhya, son of Dulith and former slave to my cock. My, how I have missed that pretty little mouth..."
The guardsmen grinned, their yellow teeth cracked and jagged. I glared at the man who had spared my life in exchange for my body, a service I had rendered for two years of my life before finally escaping. "Aku Raith, have mercy. What could you possibly want from him? I live here now, and I work for him. He is a good man."
Raith clenched his jaw in irritation. "The Elders blessed with you safe passage out of my domain once, but they will not interfere again. You are mine. Now come over here."
I tried to move, but I was too afraid to do anything except stand there. My heartbeat stabbed the base of my throat and beads of sweat ran down the side of my face, as I fought the paralysis that held me still. Too many terrible memories screamed at me to run the other way and not look back. Looking down at Bronick with an unspoken apology trembling on my lips, I saw him smile gently and nod to let me know that it was okay.
Raith's two henchmen growled at my hesitation, stepping forward with gnarled hands grabbing for their sabers. Raith hissed at them to stop, and then turned to me with a smile...the smile I hated because only pain could follow from an expression that terrifying. "Perhaps we got off on the wrong foot..."
"Wait, I—"
Pulling Bronick's head up, Raith swiftly pulled a rusted dagger from a small scabbard on his thigh, and shoved the dirty blade up through the back of his chin. He held the barkeep's head up for a moment, savoring the way blood and spit dribbled out of his mouth, before dropping him to the floor. I looked away, disgust and regret washing over me as more flashbacks of his cruelty threatened to break me. But after those two years of being chained to Raith's desire and witnessing the depravity of his excursions into the Pictish Wilderness, my will to survive had awoken strength in me that I had never known before. I turned back to him, and spit in his direction.
"You have no hold on me, durkanh. Killing an innocent man will not change that." His eyes widened in anger at my use of the Pictish slang for pig droppings. He sprang across the room and locked one of his huge hands on my neck, shoving me hard up against the cold wood of the hallway wall. As he moved his face closer with teeth gritted in fury, he stopped suddenly and sniffed at my neck. Sneering, he gripped my face with his other hand and squeezed until I cried out in pain.
"My little Vendhyan slut has been busy, eh? I can smell him on you...who was it? Does he know you're here with me? Does he even care?" Raith snickered, licking the side of my face. He reeked of death and torture but when I tried to pull away from him, it only made his grip around my neck tighten more. "But why should he care, eh? Everyone knows the only thing you're good for is servicing cock...and now you're going to show me just how good you've gotten."
Tears threatened to unveil my hopelessness as I struggled to breathe around Raith's fingers. I secretly prayed that the Cimmerian would suddenly appear and make it all stop, but I could not bring myself to believe it. Fate looked at me then and as the tears spread across my eyes, all I could see through my slowly blurring vision was that warm face laughing in the soft light of a lantern. And when he looked down at me, the war-hardened line of his jaw softened and those blue eyes pierced into something deeper than skin and bone and blood...far within to a place that I had thought never existed. As the realization that I would never see that face again struck me, I finally let my tears fall.
Thank you so much to whoever is reading my story, and I hope you're enjoying it so far! I'm currently almost finished with the third chapter (I originally had it connected with this one, but it was too long). But I want to make sure the writing is really polished because it will mark an important shift in the plotline. And don't worry—there will be plenty of hot sex scenes to make up for the lack of one on this chapter! Haha I wanted to use this chapter to introduce the villain. So anyway, stay tuned and I'll have the third part up by the end of the week!
This story is based on the trademark writings of Robert E. Howard, and posits no influence or commentary on the original storyline.