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Chapter 476: Naughty girl
🕑 Added 2025-04-11 14:00:28 +0000 UTCMason spent the next hour in the strangest conversation of his life. He and the centaurs didn’t say much. But Lila filled most every silence with stories about her life since the tutorial, using clever, careful language so as not to give away the ‘game’.
She may have looked like a warrior-princess, but she talked like a rich socialite. She’d been captured somewhere up north, and it seemed she was a kind of human mascot for the ‘Green Sea’ tribe. She went to all their negotiations, their holy rituals, and traveled with the women and children like a prized…well, horse.
What exactly her nights looked like Mason didn’t want to know. She was certainly attractive enough to catch human attention. And he was pretty sure Naya had said centaurs wanted elven females for the same base reason as men. So, it stood to reason…
“I’d like to watch some of the games before it’s dark,” said Yarick with a bored sigh. “Can we bargain for the boy now and be done with it?”
Mason nodded, though it occurred to him he had almost nothing physical to trade. At least not on him. He was vaguely aware he was rich as the patron of Nassau. For the moment though the only thing he could think of was to make a whole bunch of arrows with Endless Quiver. Though he probably had to shoot them at least once.
He could go back to the settlement and get a lot more valuables, obviously. But he really didn’t want to have to do that. On the other hand, what the hell was he going to do with the kid and the elf if he freed them? He couldn’t take them with him.
He’d have to figure out how to get them through the fey, or…send for them later with a teleport beacon? Ask for them to be delivered to Nassau? The centaurs probably wouldn’t like either option. Eventually he just gave up and asked.
“What do you want for him?”
The centaur stared as he lay back on his pillow, chewing ‘yarro root’ (which was apparently what turned their teeth weird colors).
“The shaman says you’re a powerful warrior. I have some enemies you could kill.”
Athas perked up for the first time since entering the tent.
“Me too.” He grinned. “If you killed enough, it might even be worth an elf.”
Mason sighed, not interested in whatever chaos that might bring.
“I can give you powerful arrows. Many hundreds. Maybe thousands.”
Neither centaur hid his disinterest. Athas spit into a bowl and rolled his eyes.
“If you won’t give me what I want, then say no. I think I’ll eat the elf tonight at the feast. An auspicious day of days, eh shaman? It will give me great fortune.”
“Maybe I’ll roast you over the same fire,” Mason snapped. “I’ve tasted centaur before.”
Athas met his eyes, and eventually laughed. “You’re surrounded by my kind, Hunter. However powerful you are, you can’t kill all of us.”
Mason wasn’t so sure. And he had no doubt he could murder a lot of them and escape. But he just stared at the centaur until the creature glanced away.
“Enough, enough.” Night Eyes waved a hand. “We can all benefit. I have no doubt.”
Mason sighed as he met the cunning shaman’s gaze. He expected the clever leader had some plan forming from the moment he’d spotted him—some reason for bringing him here. Now he’d ask for a difficult or dangerous favor.
“There is a creature living in the mountains, Hunter.” The shaman smiled like he knew Mason would know he’d been scheming, and that he’d go on scheming and have his way regardless. “Its presence ruins the land around it, desecrating one of my people’s holy places. If you were to cleanse it, I would trade what is required to Athas and Yarick for your slaves.”
The other centaurs squirmed on their cushions. It was clear they weren’t in on the scheme.
“I prefer not to be twisted and bent like one of your smoke sticks, shaman. You could have told me what you wanted. And I haven’t agreed to trade anything yet, for all I…
“But you will.” Night Eyes cut him off, his smile fading as his deep, black eyes turned on the other centaur. “Or I shall be forced to tell the gathered crones and elders you were so stubborn, so foolish, you kept one elven slave and ignored the cleansing of a sacred burial ground, also offending a Death Hunter in our midst.”
Athas cringed like a child who’d been cuffed, sagging with misery. Yarrick just shook his head and yawned, rising up with a stretch.
“You’re too wily for me, shaman. I’ll leave you now. Keep the slave. I trust you’ll honor your word later.” He turned to Mason with a nod. “Go in peace, Hunter. The Swifthooves respect those who slay walking shadows. I hope to see you at the feast.”
Mason returned the nod, then looked at the clever shaman. He knew he’d been outdone already. He’d seen the dying mountainside and would want to help anyway. But at least he got what he wanted.
“Sounds dangerous,” he said. “A lot to ask for two slaves. I want knowledge, too. Information from all the lands known by the Greensea Tribe.”
Night Eyes frowned, and Mason had no idea if this was a major request or if the shaman was just tricking him and negotiating. Eventually he nodded, and glanced at the content-seeming Palacus, who sat chewing and spitting, sometimes idly stroking Lila’s hair.
“Will you speak with your Pathfinders?”
The centaur blinked as if only half awake, glancing at Lila who gave him an enthusiastic nod.
“If you wish it, shaman, it is done.”
Night Eyes bowed his head and gestured at Mason.
“Tomorrow, then, Hunter. Tonight you feast with us. We will show you the way at first light.”
“I don’t need light,” Mason said, with a subtle glance and smile at Athas. “But I said I’d stay for the feast, so I will.”
Lila squealed and slapped Palacus’ arm.
“Can I sit with the shaman, my lord? I have so many questions for the Hunter. He lives with a whole group of my people.”
Her centaur master smiled and rubbed her half shaved head like you might with a child, then waved a hand and groaned as he stood.
A tense moment passed as Athas stared at his elven slave, eventually turning and clopping off into the night without taking him. Both the elf and the young man slouched with relief, looking up at Mason with an uncomfortable amount of hope and thanks
“I will see them cared for,” Night Eyes promised, and Mason believed him. “Now come. I have duties, but Lila may show you to the feast grounds. You will both sit with my tribe, and the elders. See that the Hunter knows our customs.”
“Yes, shaman.” Lila bowed, then grinned and grabbed Mason’s hand. He still wasn’t sure how grossed out he should be, trying not to imagine her banging a variety of half horse men. But after a second of watching Lila pull and jerk like she’d tried to move a mountain, he let her take him along.
*
“This is so exciting!” Lila kept a firm grip on his hand everywhere she went. “I’ve never gotten to show anyone around before.”
They were a spectacle, to be sure, but the centaur seemed pretty busy with their own problems. Families were all gathering in yurts and clearly preparing themselves for the feast, putting on whatever counted for high centaur fashion.
“They’re gathering for some yearly holy day,” Lila explained over a tanned, slender shoulder, then looked him up and down. “Actually, you should change. There’s no fighting or warriors allowed. I can get you something that’ll impress them, if you give me a minute.”
Mason wasn’t sure he cared about impressing centaur. But it was still possible and maybe likely he’d be getting what he came for, so he thought best to play along. He nodded and Lila kept on trying to drag him to some tent she seemed to know.
“This is mine,” she said with obvious pride as she took him in the flap. “They pack it up and move it with all the others. Here I’m ‘Lila of the Green Sea tribe’, official and everything. Slave sounds bad, I know, but I’m really not. All the women and children belong to the men here. So I’m more like a…well…”
“A wife?” Mason said, trying to keep any judgment from his voice.
“Oh, no.” Lila laughed. “Its nothing like that. I’m like Pally’s…well, pet, I guess. Like a cat. He just likes to look at me. He likes it when I sing and dance or tell jokes. He especially likes it when I annoy people he doesn’t like. Anyway, I make him calm. But he has all kinds of wives and concubines.”
Mason just nodded. Besides the potentially horrific mental images, he honestly didn’t care. He unsummoned his armor but kept the vestments beneath, gesturing for Lila to get him whatever clothes she’d promised. When the armor vanished she blinked and took a step forward instead of away. Her hands were on his chest before he really had time to think about it.
“Oh Christ look at you, I could eat you alive,” she said, running her fingers down the thin material. “It’s been so long. I might let you do anything.”
Mason…wasn’t expecting that. He took her hands and slowly eased them away, getting a pretty confused look from Lila.
“Oh don’t worry, I’m a naughty girl. I’ve done a lot worse than fuck a stranger in a dirty tent. And we can make it fast.”
Repulsed wasn’t quite the right word. But the girl was pretty much having the time of her life living with marauding, enslaving, monsters. She hadn’t so much as looked at the other person beaten and bound beside them. And if she thought being even more vile and slutty than he sometimes felt these days was a turn on, she was wrong.
“Let’s just get to the feast,” he said. “No offence, but I don’t know the rules here. If you belong to whats his name, shouldn’t I ask for permission? I don’t want to insult my hosts.”
“Oh no, it’s not like,” Lila said, still trying to get her hands on him. “I mean I can do what I want. And I definitely want to do this.”
Apparently she wasn’t quite getting the message. Mason’s dick wasn’t entirely on board, but for once he was in total command of the situation. He met Lila’s eyes.
“Get the clothes, and take me where the shaman wants me. Now.”
He supposed he’d gotten a lot better at giving commands since the world turned to shit. Lila’s pride looked legitimately stung, but she also flinched as if compelled to do what he asked, gathering up the clothes and coming back with a lot less spunk in her step.
He failed miserably to put the thing on, and it was awkward when Lila had to help him with what seemed like a baggy toga. He didn’t feel totally ridiculous, but then these days he felt comfortable half naked.
Lila looked him up and down and nodded, an almost pained expression coming and going quick across her face. She opened her mouth as if to say something else, then just closed it and walked for the flap.
Mason slapped his libido back into place, and followed.
Comments
Steven Wilson
wow she MUST be bad if mason can keep his dick in his pants.....
