The Saga of Tallia the Unwilling

Disclaimer: Everyone is over eighteen. If you are not deeply into fantasy pulp fiction, gender fluidity and pansexuality, you are in the wrong place. This chapter features river pirates who are obviously faux-Koreans. I am definitely not implying that Koreans or the Vietnamese or Asians or anybody are all pirates or thieves or anything moronic like that. These are criminals. All cultures, countries and continents have them. Never doubt, Korea is awesome. Bulgogi, alone, is one of the greatest, yummiest gifts any culture has ever given to the world. Gods on high and in hell, now your author needs some damn take out!

BEHOLD! I, Thutmose-Neferkare, royal scribe, chief librarian and high priest of the divine Ra who even though he could scorch the whole world with a word, chooses not to for, yay, he is a fine falcon-headed fellow, do welcome you back to the second scroll in “The Saga of Tallia the Unwilling”. Even though we have not yet invented pages, know ye that this one is a real page-turner full of gory violence, most graphic sex and gender fluid fun. Verily, that is how we like it, here at the Temple of Ra!

I hath also noted that some of you didst read the first scroll and left neither comment nor review. Yay, do you not know how much this doth anger both I, the exalted Thutmose-Neferkare, and the almighty Ra? Just yesterday He came unto me and bespoke, “Lo, my most faithful priest and chosen one, my anger is as the rising sun! Do these layabouts not know that if they do not rise from their place of resting and opine unto us their most felicitous feedback and feelings, that I shall be forced to subject their nether regions to the seven fires of heaven? Yay, my Most Holy, I shall blister their bottoms! See if I won’t!” Seriously. Ra hath totally told me that.

I beg of thee, good folk — spare thyself the wrathful yet righteous fire-spanking of Ra! Readeth this entire scroll which I think ye shall find both morally, spiritually and (frankly) sexually stimulating. Yes, of course, first find thy own pleasure and personal appreciation of this most lurid tale. And maybe even thereafter, go forth from thy sacred couch and even make unto thyself a worthy snack or perhaps a lovely beverage. But then, once this be done, fail not to return here forthwith and carve thy musings upon the Wall of Thoth most forthrightly and honestly (to a point — remember that I am a priest of most delicate sensibilities). Do this I pray thee, for thus alone shall the high priest know that his translation is appreciated and not cast, unheeded, into a cold and uncaring void.

Yay, let it be written! Yay, let it be done!

Chapter Two: The Quest for A Dick

Tallia and Hilarius left town at midday and spared no words of camaraderie or conviviality to anyone in Zhang Zhen. Even though they likely had saved this settlement from eradication by the merciless horned monster-bear, they had made no friends here (other than a single surprisingly appreciative whore). They were regarded by the majority of the rice farmers as the lesser of two evils, but evils nonetheless. Costly mercenaries who bankrupted the town were deemed only slightly better than murderous monsters, it seemed. Perhaps that they spent so much of their gains here in the same town might make them slightly better regarded than typical hirelings, but gratitude was a scarce commodity here in the Rice Lands of Dao.

Travel here was not the easiest of prospects. The Rice Lands were anything but level. These were jagged hill lands at the base of great mountains far too distant to actually see. The hills rose abruptly here and there emerging from the land like scars. In those ancient days, much of the Rice Lands was not yet tamed and through farm terraces were no great rarity, there were also still forests of bamboo and briar tangled amongst and atop those hills.

The Rice Lands were also anything but dry. This was the land of countless rivers that wove amongst the rises, terraces and hills. The rivers here formed almost a net of tributaries, streams and channels. A skilled boatman could navigate this tangle and go almost anywhere at certain times of year. Our two travelers though had neither boat nor such knowledge and so stuck to the often primitive roads.

The pair travelled by foot for fifteen long and tiring days, traversing quickly these crude roads that cut through the rough bamboo-choked hills and joined one farm community to the next. Hilarius the Swift had always been fleet of foot and Tallia now found her own newly acquired Amazonian endurance near boundless, so they made good time. If anything impeded their progress, it was their horse.

Bradus the Less Than Swift moved at what can only be charitably called a thoughtful pace. Still, loaded with water and gear, the pack animal remained essential and besides Hilarius had come to regard the beast as the third member of their company. The rogue, usually quick to laugh at any jest, did not find Tallia’s affectionate nickname for the beast of ’emergency rations’ funny in the least. Thus Tallia used this jest often.

As for shelter, they were too bereft of coin to afford any inns or way houses and besides, those were scarce in these parts. They had neither tent nor pavilion and that meant that they were camping out in the open weather. Fortunately, the gods smiled on them and the weather proved pleasant enough. They were rained on only a few times and that briefly, gently and not as they slept. That was most unusual for this country in this season.

Their reception by the local farmers, though, was almost uniformly less than friendly. Tallia understood why. This entire region was neglected by its far-off rulers and bandits ran rampant. This tangle of hills made perfect cover and the great river net made travel as easy for pirates as for farmers and honest traders. Armed travelers were easily mistaken for thieves and more often than not, there was no mistake. Oft when they spoke with the locals, the farmers brandished drawn bows or bronze-bladed pitchforks. It only emphasized that there was nothing for them here and that they needed to keep moving.

They were only received well in one village. There, a wide-eyed headman took one look at Tallia, ordered everyone to lower their arms and proposed marriage on the spot. Hilarius of course thought this uproariously funny and began negotiating with the man for the dowry. Hilarius was up to twelve cows, a hut with three rooms and a necklace of jade when a not-laughing Tallia dragged the rogue out of town and back onto the road. It seemed thus to Hilarius that adequate revenge for the ’emergency rations’ jape was doled out. The headman was of course heart broken and followed them, crying forth pledges of love, for almost half a league.

Food was a constant concern. The small store they had at journey’s start didn’t last three days even with harsh rationing. They had no silver nor even gear they were willing to part with, so they couldn’t trade. There was no one they met willing to pay for sell-swords, so they could earn no coin. And without trade nor coin they couldn’t buy a bow, so hunting was near impossible.

Tallia did find a solution. She hewed a spear out of bamboo and used it to skewer a scrawny feral pig one night. Hilarius found some small golden-yellow mushrooms growing from a log that he insisted were non-poisonous. The rogue was thankfully soon proven right. These meager rations of stone-seared pork and mushrooms got them through, though sometimes only just.

Regardless of all this, the adventurous duo were in fine spirits on their sojourn. Yes, they were destitute. Yes, the food was in perilously short supply. Yes, they had not a friend in the world save each other (and loyal, plodding Bradus). But they had faced those same perils many times before and always together. And if the gods simply wanted them dead, it seemed to the two travelers that they had already had ample opportunity to end their lives. Clearly, there was some sort of weird destiny unfolding ahead of them. They were however eager to get out of these endless rice terraces and to someplace, frankly, more exciting.

They made their way swiftly towards exactly that — the raucous riverport of Denggang. It was far larger than the rice farms they had been trekking through, but much more perilous. The town was famous for having once been the stronghold of river pirates, but these days, every traveler they met assured them, that sordid past was only a memory. But as Tallia and Hilarius entered the riverport, they were both immediately certain they had been lied to.

They walked into town leading their horse just a few hours before sunset. All about them was the swell and stir of humanity. Jugglers and acrobats busked for coin. Criers declared that the finest silks in all the land could be had at Seo-Jun the silk merchant. Dark-eyed harlots dressed only in scandalous girdles beckoned from the balconies of houses of ill repute. Street vendors hawked skewers of fire-kissed spiced meat, river fish roasted with herbs, grilled flat breads and bowls of steaming noodles. The smells of the food stalls only emphasized that the travelers had not partaken in a proper meal in almost three days.

On the river itself, barges and house boats swarmed the port in countless number and variety, their bright sails turning the estuary into a riot of color. Rarely a hulking square-sailed sea junk could be seen as well, coming through the mouth of the river away from the open sea and pulling alongside a waiting dock. Hilarius immediately loved the place. Tallia was, as always, a bit more circumspect.

“This town is a wonder!” proclaimed Hilarius.

“This town looks like the finest place I’ve ever seen for getting a knife in the back,” said Tallia, appraising the riverside ramshackle of taverns, brothels, gambling halls, docks and trading houses.

“More dangerous than the Rat Ward at Yaath’Xin? Worse than the Ludus of Lord Khaizan? No, my friend, we’ve been subjected to far worse. Anyways, I must confess a crime I have kept from you. I happen to be in possession of a small ring of gold I lifted off that impolite magistrate from three villages back.”

“The one who threatened to hang us if we dared step foot in his shabby little pothole of a town?”

“The very same. I simply could not let such rudeness go unpunished and when he started officiously thumping on my chest and lecturing us about ‘we know how to deal with thieves here’, well, it became something of a moral imperative.” That did make Tallia chuckle.

“Anyways,” Hilarius continued, “let’s see if we can hock the trinket for enough cash to get some supper and a jug of the local hooch. And then we can look for work. Any place this dangerous has to have some market for sell-swords.”

Tallia cocked an eyebrow as the rogue almost magically produced the small hoop of gold from seemingly nowhere with a flourish of his hand. The Amazon said nothing, only giving the slightest of nods to the plan. Hilarius, of course, interpreted this gesture to mean, ‘Oh, yes, my dear Hilarius. That’s a most well-conceived and amazing plan and you are a genius for suggesting it. Also, I have come in recent days to find you almost unbearably attractive. Wait till we are alone together, oh dearest friend, oh Prince of Thieves and I shall properly show you how a sexy, cursed Amazon like myself expresses her abundant gratitude.’

What Tallia actually meant was closer to, ‘Fine, but if you bring down on us the wrath of the local law, I’m probably going to let them hang you.’

Both of these meanings were, of course, utter bullshit.

The pair tied their dray horse to a post and Tallia retrieved her helm and shield, not daring to leave the prized bronze out on the street in this squalid place. She was wearing the rest of her armor for exactly the same reason despite the sweltering heat and devilish humidity.

The pair entered one of the larger river-side establishments hoping that size might imply permanency and thus a lessened chance of getting robbed. As the adventurers walked inside the nameless tavern and trading post, Tallia realized that this assumption was deadly wrong. Various stores and almost certainly stolen goods were stacked everywhere near the front for trade. And against the far wall was a long slab of hard black wood that passed for a bar. Behind that was a mean looking fat fellow who had pierced his lips twice with spikes of ivory and covered himself in red tattoos to give others the impression he was some sort of tusked demon-ogre of legend. Altogether, the costume was quite convincing.

Besides the rough barkeep, there were also more than two dozen men whose only uniform was a dirty black turban. They immediately stopped their jabbering, boasting, drinking and gambling to watch intently and silently as the duo entered. The men in the turbans had gone to some trouble with their combination of tattoos, tattered clothing and wicked armament to convey, ‘Hello! I am a ruthless river pirate.’

Tallia immediately wanted to leave and try any place else. Hilarius on the other hand simply let out a low whistle and said, “Nice place!” before stepping up to the bar. He slapped the gold ring down and said, in his best stab at the local lingo, “Good evening, barkeep, I need to attend to a bit of quiet business. I have a ring of purest gold I’d like to exchange for local currency. How much will you give me for this exquisite treasure?”

What he actually said, as far as both the bandits and the tusked barkeep were concerned, was “Good evening, barkeep, I am incredibly stupid, new in town and will not be missed if you kill me and dump me in the nearby river. I am going to show you that I possess the first actual gold you desperate thugs have seen in some weeks. My companion and I are in most urgent need of both being robbed and, yes, raped. Please take our gold and then I would appreciate if you would all, in turn, use both our bottoms most vigorously and in order of gang seniority.”

“Wait!” came a bellow from one of the larger and more impressively tattooed bandits bedecked in an only slightly cleaner black turban. Hilarius assumed that ‘wait’ meant ‘hold off on that transaction’. The bandit actually meant, ‘Hold off, my brother ruthless river pirates, on the robbing, raping and murdering for just a brief moment. I want to understand what is the deal with these unusual idiots. But fear not we will soon enough take their gold and then take them by force into the back of our establishment to use both their bottoms most vigorously and in order of gang seniority.’

Hilarius smiled as the fellow stood up, though his hand did go to the pommel of one his knives.

“And who might you be, my good friends?” asked the bandit as he approached the pair. “New in town?”

“Ah, where are my manners? I am Hilarius the Swift, called the Jack of Swords, the Bard of Battle, the Writer whose a Fighter and the Poet Who Can Throw It, famed for my triumphant exploits in the arenas and brothels of Yaath’Xin and this is my companion Tallia the… um, Terrible, who is even more famed. Yes. And you are?”

“They call me Monsu Mankiller and this is my humble house. And these are my friends, the feared Black Turban Gang, scourge of the river Deng.”

“Wow,” responded Hilarius, “well it is an absolute pleasure to meet you, um, Mr. Mankiller is it?”

“Now, you wanted to conduct some business, yes?”

“Straight to point! Exactly!” said the smiling Hilarius.

“Here’s my offer,” explained the Mankiller. “That’s a nice piece of gold you’ve got there. And that shiny armor and fine blade, they’ll fetch a nice price too. If you put all your valuables, nice and slow, on the bar, I have decided to be most generous and let you both walk out of here, alive and unspoiled. You can even have a drink before you go… on the house.” Monsu smiled darkly, his mouth a foul mass of broken and missing teeth. The bartender reached for the bottle of drugged wine wondering if these two would actually be stupid enough to accept the drink.

Tallia sighed and donned her great helm and shifted her shield into a ready position even as the Mankiller was still explaining his ‘offer’. Honestly, she was not surprised. She had become increasingly certain with every step through the streets of this rundown rathole of a river town that this sort of thing was going to be necessary. There was no way this assortment of pirates, thieves and thugs were ever going to be willing to work with them unless they spilt some blood and established themselves as people not to fuck with. Tallia decided that Monsu Mankiller had just volunteered for the job. She hoped to keep the casualty list confined to only him. This was, of course, wildly optimistic and even a bit naïve.

Tallia drew her sword so quickly that the blade sang as it cut through the air. Two dozen thugs leaped to their feet, brandishing an impressive variety of knives, hooks, hand axes, short swords and machetes. Hilarius also now had a dagger in each hand. Monsu held two wicked looking barbed hatchets at the ready. Hell, even the fat, tusked bartender had put down the drugged wine and was now holding a large spiked club. A grand melee was seconds away, when…

“Wait!” yelled Tallia even as everyone in the bar pointed weapons at one another. This briefly took the bandits off guard. The loud and leonine voice was not something they expected from a woman, even one so unusually tall and armored as this one.

“My name is Tallia the Unwilling,” proclaimed the Amazon in the local tongue. “Two weeks hence, I slew the great horned bear that hunted men like dogs in Zhang Zhen and now I wear its pelt. I am the only living soul to both win my freedom in the arena of Yaath’Xin and then, when the mad prince thought he could betray and enslave me anew, to escape anyway. I wield a bright and cursed blade and walk the road of heroes, even though it is a course I never wanted. So what I’m saying, you motherless shit-eating river rats, is do not fuck with me and mine unless you seek death!”

Hilarius didn’t even breathe the whole time. He almost (if his hands weren’t full of knives) applauded. Monsu Mankiller, though, look less impressed.

“Great speech, sugar tits,” he said having lost his smile and replaced it with a surly snarl. “Kill the little one! The bitch is mine!”

Immediately the entire bar erupted into a tumult of violence. Hilarius screamed a high pitched squeal, put two knives deep into the chest of the fat bartender with the spiky club and dove behind the bar just as an intriguingly multicultural assortment of sharp things slammed into the wall above him.

Monsu Mankiller bellowed out a war cry and made a powerful swing with the hatchet in his right hand imbedding it deep into the bronze rim of Tallia’s shield. It was a mighty, muscular strike that would have knocked most men off their feet. The Mankiller showed himself to be a skilled killer with that swing. It turned out that he was not in charge of these thugs just because he was tall.

But Tallia wavered not an inch. The Mankiller was wary enough to ready the left hatchet to parry any retaliatory strikes. This too proved a futile stratagem. Tallia lashed out with almost inhuman speed. The magic blade cut through both Monsu’s hatchet and his neck with equal ease. The hatchet head fell to the dirty wooden floor with a clatter. The decapitated body of Monsu fell over in front of the Amazon and made a gigantic puddle of blood at her feet.

For one second, everyone in the bar paused to watch the head of Monsu Mankiller fly through the air and land with a grotesque thud on the broad expanse of black wood that was the tavern’s bar. His head, quite incredibly, impacted neck down and did not fall over. Monsu’s lifeless eyes remained open in astonishment and his tongue hung loose from his smiling but still unappealing mouth. Even his alightly cleaner black turban remained upon his head. Tallia for the briefest of moments, thought, ‘That’s something I could not have managed on purpose.’

After this fabulously horrendous display, about half of the Black Turban Gang (a group that henceforth would be called the survivors of the Black Turban Tavern Massacre) fled in a panic out the back of the bar. Some even dived into the filthy river Deng to escape the rampaging Amazon, which if you had a nose, you would know was a kind of bravery. The other half, a group still loyal to Monsu and eager for revenge, charged Tallia en masse working themselves into a howling frenzy. This proved a deadly mistake.

Tallia faced their charge with a smile. The Amazon danced among the reckless but ill-trained river thugs, her blade a divine messenger of death. She gutted one thug and slammed her shield into the face of another breaking bone and tooth. She hunched down into a defensive position, parrying aside several clumsy blows, and in a single sword stroke cut through three human legs. She lunged upward and pushed another river rat back, quickly severing both his arms with two quick swipes. He staggered about drunkenly spraying blood all over his ever dwindling supply of comrades. She leapt through the fountain of gore slashing her unstoppable blade through anyone stupid enough to still stand against her. In a few brief moments, the bar was transformed into a scene of gruesome carnage.

Hilarius popped up from behind the bar eager to aid his companion-at-arms, holding two knives at the ready. However, he discovered no living targets, only a very pissed off and gore-drenched Talia standing amidst a scene of human wreckage. Even the fellow with no arms finally collapsed with a horrid thud. Hilarius turned and looked slowly at the smiling head on the bar. This startled him for a second.

The little rogue was stunned by what he saw and, honestly, terrified by the power and deadliness of his companion. Tallus the Grim was scary enough in a fight, but this was some next level lethality. As the rogue considered all of this, this was when the bartender, who despite having two knives in his chest was still very much alive, sat up behind the bar and stabbed Hilarius in the back. He didn’t use his spiky club which he had dropped. Instead, he thrust a long wicked knife deep into the rogue’s lower abdomen, the point piercing all the way through him. Hilarius for a change did not scream, but instead turned and dispatched the badly wounded tusked barkeep with two expertly thrown knives, one in the throat and in the center of the forehead. Hilarius then collapsed, pumping out his lifeblood on the grimy floor of the Black Turban Tavern.

Tallia rushed over to the side of the dying rascal. “Hilarius!” she cried.

Hilarius smiled at her and, before his eyes closed said, “You are beautiful, goddess. Take care of Bradus…” And faded before her eyes.

“Take care of the horse? That’s all you have to say?” Tallia was almost hysterical. “No, no, you are not going to die on me!” But even as she declared this, Hilarius was most definitely dying whether she willed it or no.

A regal voice echoed in Tallia’s mind: “A glorious battle, great Celaeno! Truly you walk the…”

“Can you save him? Can you save my friend?” she cried to the cursed blade.

“Though I possess great and sundry magics, is not within my power to heal. I am a weapon of war, my beloved. Trouble yourself not, my sword-sister, mortals die but the twelve are forever.”

“Shut up, you piece of devil-junk!”

She picked up the little rogue in both her arms and fled the gory tavern, leaving the magic sword lying discarded in a pool of Hilarius’ blood.

 

***

 

Liandra of Amathus stomped through the mud along the banks of the river Deng, pushing aside the thick stalks of bamboo and trying to make the best of her difficult position. The mud was interminable, the insects were elephantine and the guide damnably stoic. And of course, there was also the possibility that Liandra was simply insane — that all of this trekking through the muck and mud were only happening because she was in the middle of a complete and total mental breakdown. That too weighed upon her as much as the muck that threatened to entirely swallow her legs up to the knee with each laborious step. After all, she was only here because the fire in her faraway temple started talking to her.

“No, no, that’s not crazy. Fires talk to lots of people!” she declared out loud but only to the bugs. Even the insects seemed unpersuaded and frankly, rather judgmental.

She remembered back so many months ago, before her journey had even began. The all too familiar voice of the fire had told her, “Seek far to the east the source of the river of blood and the nine hills. There you will find him. There you will gain vengeance and, at last, peace.” She had travelled as far to the east as she could, all the way to the shores of a great ocean for which her people had no name. And there she had learned from a passing fisherman that the river Deng had seen much fighting and piracy and was sometime called the River of Blood in the local tongue. Near its source, was the village of Jiu Shan that meant roughly ‘nine hills’. She had spent her last coin hiring a guide pushing deep into this wilderness to find this small, remote village. This all couldn’t be simple coincidence — the Lord and Lady of Love meant for her to be here!

But talking fires and almost certain madness aside, they must be getting close to their destination. They had been trekking for days through this seemingly endless sea of muck and mire. And then at last, they emerged from the muddy bamboo forest into a comparatively dry field of grass. There it was stretching out before her — the nine terraces of the farming community of Jiu Shan. She almost cried at the picturesque beauty out before her. She could see the farmers tending their rice fields and driving their oxen. She saw thatched huts made of lashed bamboo. Here she would learn at last the truth.

“Thank the Lord and Lady! We’re here!” she cried. “Truth comes from fire! Wisdom is born in flame!” The priestess danced in the mud in celebration of her discovery, twirling about in her mud-stained green robe.

Her only companion — the guide, Lee Sang called the Silent — leaned against a large field stone waiting for her charge to catch up and emerge from the bamboo. Sang could no longer say she was surprised by anything the crazy foreign woman did or said. But she had to admit — this was the happiest that anyone had ever looked arriving in this remote and, if stories were to be believed, accursed place.

Liandra, for her part, stopped dancing and walked straight into the center of the village. She managed to convey cheerfully to a passing farmer that she was looking for the headman or indeed anyone in charge. She cleaned up a little at the local well and was soon taken to the village elder. There she was received well enough, being given both hot tea and an audience. Visitors after all were a rare commodity in Jiu Shan and the farmers here had enemies enough already to risk making another through coarse discourtesy.

In the hut of the headman, she pulled back her bright green hood and let her long curly blonde hair hang free. The villagers gasped at this for they had never seen golden hair before. She didn’t let this amazement derail her purpose for travelling halfway around the world. She looked sternly at the elder and did not waste words.

“Your village suffers because of a three eyed man.”

Sang who sat immediately behind the priestess, sipping her tea, let out a low breath. Yes, this was a good way to start their visit. Not with hello. Not with ‘thank you for the tea’. Let us skip straight to crazy. She was expecting the village elder to answer this ridiculous statement with something like, ‘Are you most high on dragon-leaf, strange traveler?’ But what happened next, absolutely stunned the usually unflappable Sang.

The elder’s eyes grew wide, his face obviously gripped with fear, and he nodded.

“This three eyed man — he oft keeps his third eye closed, yes?”

The elder was again startled. “You know this? How can you know this? We are forbidden by his thugs to speak of him. I dare not say more.”

The headman rung his hands in silent worry but then, at last, spoke again. “But what does it matter? Nothing we do earns his mercy or abates his cruelty. The three-eyed demon is a master of monsters who sends his vile servants to steal our crops and our children. He drives us to starvation and steals our joy. But as wicked as he is, as hated as he is, none can oppose the devil for when he opens his third eye…”

She interjected. “When he opens his third eye, all who see the eye become his slave!”

The elder was shaking with dread, but then again, nodded.

Liandra smiled. ‘I found you, you son of a bitch!’ She had done what no one thought possible. She had crossed half a world, sailed nameless seas and wide oceans and she had tracked down the elusive murdering bastard. She had found Arion Three-Eyes. And she had only accomplished this because the sacred fire had spoken to her alone at midnight in the Temple of Love. She wasn’t crazy! And with that reassuring thought, she filled the headman’s hut with her wild, mad laughter.

Liandra was invited, after speaking with the elder for some time, to spend the night at the village. The travelers were fed a meatless but hearty meal of short-grained rice, watery soup and a strange cabbage that had a fire to it. The priestess thanked them sincerely for the meal as food was obviously precious here and ate every offered bite for fear of being rude. She tried to repay their generosity with tales of her far away home and her travels to get here. These seemed to satisfy and entertain the local assembly that attended her meal. She was no great storyteller and no master of their tongue truth told but she did her best. Though they said little, she was immediately impressed by these polite, humble and resilient people.

Sang said nothing. She was not sure what to make of this unexpected turn. She had contemplated, once arriving in the village, to leave with the dawn. She had, after all, completed her business and had come to believe that the mad foreigner was probably now broke. But now that it seemed that her charge was, amazingly, not entirely crazy, she began to see opportunity — the sort of opportunity that came only once in a lifetime. She took her rest in a quite side chamber provided by the headman, knowing that tomorrow was likely to be a long day.

That left Liandra alone and with a modicum of privacy (a rare commodity indeed in Jiu Shan). She contemplated her next move late into the night. She stared into the fire at the center of the headman’s hut hoping maybe, once more, revelation would spring forth from the flame. But of course, this crude cooking fire was not the sacred flame at the center of great Temple of Love in far Amathus. It spoke not a word.

Her problem was obvious. Finding an evil wizard is quite a different thing from killing an evil wizard. Arion Three-Eyes, better known in these parts as San Yan Yao (which meant something like the Three-Eyed Demon), had built a hidden fortress in some ancient ruin in the remote wilderness and had resorted to banditry to supply his growing army of inhuman thugs. The local magistrates and authorities had better things to do than to die fighting against a demon-wizard and so they avoided his stronghold. The villagers of Jiu Shan may hate the wizard, but they were not warriors and had no gold to hire sell-swords to fight against this creature.

All of this she knew from the village elder of Jiu Shan, but still, it did nothing to dampen Liandra’s spirits. She was close and, more importantly, she was right. They had scolded her at the Temple for undertaking this quest. They had called her mad, despondent and unhinged. Even after she left, every ship she had boarded, the crews all echoed their uniform disdain at her journey: “A woman traveling alone?! You must be mad!”

But now she saw the truth clearly. She was blessed! She was chosen! She was the hand of the Lord and Lady of Love! The Maiden and Master of a Million Loves guided her steps across this wide world towards a sacred purpose. She barely slept that night, her mind awhirl with possibility and dreams of what she would finally do when she at last came into the presence of the three-eyed wizard. Love was far from her mind.

In the morning she again spoke to the elder. “If I was going to hire sell-swords, where would I go?”

“It’s impossible!” the elder declared. “The only town within reach is Denggang, downriver, but its overrun by pirates and bandit gangs scarcely any better than San Yan Yao himself.”

“How can I get there?” Liandra simply asked, ever resolute.

“In three days, we’ll take a shipment of spring rice down river by barge to trade. If you are truly an enemy of San Yan Yao, you may ride upon that barge to Denggang. But I must warn you, the river port is dangerous even for armed men. For you, a woman, I fear…”

She smiled. The elder was too polite to say any more, but she understood entirely. She had heard that same warning again and again from many who were less polite at every leg of her trip. These doubters had never stopped her before and they wouldn’t stop her now. She was bound for Denggang and there, she would trust in the Lord and Lady and see what opportunities came her way. She was after all an agent of the sacred fire, bound to an errand of divine vengeance.

Arion Three-Eyes was as good as dead.

 

***

 

Tallia ran through the streets of Denggang, bearing her bleeding friend wrapped in a blood-soaked cloak, desperate to find a healer. She had heard that there was a temple at the edge of town and perhaps there, she could find help. But already, he had lost so much blood. She couldn’t be sure he was even still alive. The blade of the now dead barkeep had completely pierced him all the way through his lower back and Talia knew the situation was dire and desperate. She had seen many a wounded man in her days in the arena as Tallus the Grim and she had never seen anyone survive this sort of injury. And here in this horrid little river town that she barely knew, what hope did she really have of finding help? But she had to try.

“Gods on high and in hell, help me,” she whispered.

Then something happened that she did not expect. Striding out of the crowd as if he was walking straight towards her, she came eye to eye with a person who was utterly out of place in this dingy river port. He was taller than most in these parts, but considerably shorter than Tallia. He had an easy smile and tied curly blonde hair that marked him as a traveler from some far land. He was barbate, but his beard was fine and thin, and he seemed to Tallia like he must be a young man though definitely grown. He wore a well-made hooded robe of bright green tied with a simple leather belt. How he came to be in Denggang of all places, the Amazon could not even begin to guess. Tallia stopped in her tracks.

“Your friend is hurt,” the stranger said.

Tallia only nodded.

“Come! Let’s get him off the street,” said the man without explanation. He lead Tallia and the dying Hilarius quickly several streets over to a warehouse that the people of Jiu Shan used to store their rice and conduct business. The bamboo and thatch building was not luxurious by any means, being cramped and full of stacked sacks of rice, but it did have a table that Tallia placed Hilarius gently upon.

“I will try to save your friend. Here, apply pressure to the wound so he does not bleed to death,” said the stranger. “He is quite weak,” said the stranger as he leaned over and listened to his breath, “but he is alive.” The stranger quickly fetched a satchel full of bandages and other strange implements whose purpose Tallia could not guess.

The stranger inspected the injury carefully and then drew forth the knife from the wound, beginning to chant solemn praises to some god Tallia did not know. Hilarius remained unconsciousness but began to shutter as the stranger packed the wound with linen gauze. Even as he spoke, the flow of blood began to staunch and it seemed to Tallia she could see the wound close up before her very eyes. Soon, though, the wound was not visible at all being completely wrapped in bandages. Tallia watched it all in wide-eyed wonder. She had heard stories of the healing magics wielded by servants of the gods, but had never seen it in practice.

“How can this be?” said Tallia. “You’re a sorcerer!”

“No, no sorcery. Your friend was lucky. The knife missed his vital junctions of life energy and I believe I have managed to stop any corruption or foul vapors from entering his blood. He is strong and has a mind to live I think. His heart beats quick and regular and his breath is even in tempo. His chances of recovery are good, but he will need much rest and time before he can be moved. He must also receive water and tomorrow I shall make for him a fine broth of healing herbs to hasten his mending. He will not be awake, so you must carefully feed it to him one spoonful at a time.”

Tallia was still dazed by all of this and unsure what to say. So instead the smiling man continued, “My friend, my name is Liander of Amathus and I have been sent by the voice within the sacred fire on a mission of divine import. It is your destiny and mine that we should meet here! Hail to the Lord and Lady of Love, the fierce maiden of heaven, the prince of passions, that our meeting should come to pass! Tonight the moon of spring will be near full and shall brave the House of the Bear. That is a fine omen for your friend, yes?”

Tallia had no idea what most of that meant and became immediately sure that this individual was both touched by the gods and likely insane. But honestly, who was she to judge? In a crazy world, maybe this was what sanity looked like. “I… I am Tallia the Unwilling,” she said with a bow, at last returning the introduction. “And my bleeding friend is Hilarius.”

“You are most welcome here, Tallia.”

Tallia had been thoughtful enough when grabbing Hilarius from the tavern to notice the bartender’s till. She grabbed it and stuffed into her belt pouch, certain she’d need it to pay for a healer. She produced it now. “We have not yet discussed coin.”

“Nor shall we,” said Liander with a smile. “Please, stay with us tonight. We shall make a cot for your friend to rest and recover.”

Tallia was taken aback. This priest, this healer did not want money? The Amazon was immediately suspicious. This must be some sort of trick. Trick or no, Tallia pocketed the heavy coin purse once more.

She removed her wounded friend to a quiet backroom of the warehouse careful not to reopen his bandaged wounds.

“Gods, Bradus!” she startled. The one thing her dying friend had asked of her and she’d forgotten about the damned horse. “I’ll return,” she assured the priest.

She rushed back to the tavern and was amazed that her horse was still there. She also recovered Hilarius’ knives and even found more coin on Monsu’s corpse. She decided the rest weren’t worth searching and left them to the scavengers. On the whole, mass murder had proved quite profitable. And then she abandoned the Black Turban Tavern for good. There was by this time a growing crowd outside the tavern watching all this. Only the great mass of death inside had kept them at bay so long.

Tallia emerged from the tavern, still looking like a goddess of death adorned with blood. She lead her horse away from the abattoir. “Feel free to loot it. I’m done with the place,” she announced over her shoulder. The throng quickly obliged her, but Tallia was beyond caring. She instead hastily returned to Hilarius’ side.

 

***

 

Later that night after dark, Tallia had cleaned up, wiping away the horrid consequence of carnage. She had removed her armor, scrubbing it thoroughly with water drawn from the river dock at the back of the warehouse. She had even managed to clean the gore from her bear pelt cloak and now dried it near a small fire. She sat down finally, her errands done, at the small table where Liander and his guide, the silent Sang, were having tea. Only a few hours later, Hilarius had been bleeding upon that table. But now he was quietly resting and the table was cleansed. It sported now instead a small coal brazier that heated a terracotta tea kettle to boiling. Then they packed in strange look silver-tipped leaves unknown to Tallia into the kettle’s top.

“How is your friend?” asked Liander.

“He’s alive thanks to your magic. He is resting.”

“Good. Sleep is the best thing for him now. I’ll change his dressing in the morning,” said the priest with a smile. “Here, have some tea.” And he poured Tallia a small cup of the steaming brew. Tallia tried it and had to admit it was a remarkably reviving and most stimulating brew, whatever it is was.

“I… my friend and I, owe you a great debt. I’m not sure there is any way we can repay you.”

“Hah! Don’t be so sure,” said Liander.

Ah, thought Tallia, at last — the price. Her eyes narrowed. “Yes?” she asked.

“It’s not what you think,” explained the priest. “As I said before, I am not in this land by mere chance and our meeting is no accident. I am here on a divine mission. I am hunting an incredibly dangerous man — a wizard of awesome power — who make slaves of any who gaze into his third eye.” Liander tapped on the center of his own forehead.

“This demon worshipper committed countless atrocities and blasphemies back in my homeland, killing a high priestess of my temple and robbing its sacred treasures. He fled half way across the world and has resumed his cruelties and his crimes. He steals what he needs and once more tries to establish himself as a master of men. Arion, you see, believes himself chosen by a demon queen to rule over all nations. He is obsessed with power and dominion over all life.

“He very nearly succeeded in my homeland. He enslaved the king and many of his most trusted councilors with dark magic. But the snake was defeated when he was revealed by a wise priestess of my order,” Liander’s voice suddenly turned darker. “The wizard was forced to flee for his miserable life. Alas, that before he did so, he murdered that priestess. She was… she was dear to me. And so I have followed him here, alone but bent on just retribution. It is my hope to end his menace once and for all. To do that, I need warriors. This is what I ask of you.”

“And if I don’t, will your god curse me?” asked Tallia warily.

“If you refuse, I will be sad but will hope that we can part as friends,” said Liander. “Already word has reached me of your valor against the Black Turbans. The warehouse workers can talk of nothing else. I pray that we shall never be enemies, mighty Tallia.”

Tallia nodded. “I know little of the gods. But you have saved my fool of a friend. I think then that we must be friends. I’ll warn you now, I’ve had little practice at friendship other than with Hilarius. Friends are… not a luxury I’ve much enjoyed.”

Liander sipped his tea and smiled. Tallia’s candor brightened his mood. “I too could use the practice!” He extended his hand to the Amazon and she accepted it.

Tallia decided this was getting a little too personal, pulled back and changed the subject back to business. “So, you’re here in Denggang to hire warriors? Not a terrible plan. I’ve seen many armed men in this river port. How many do you think you can afford?”

“Three plus myself,” said Liander certainly.

“Three? You mean just us? Madness!” declared Tallia, “What chance do we have against so powerful a foe as this wizard?”

“Better three veteran warriors than thirty fools, I say,” laughed Liander. “Sang, my guide, has agreed to help for a share of the wizard’s treasure. She’s a deadly archer and silent as a shadow. And then with you and your friend, I almost pity our foe. Besides, the Lord and Lady of Love is with us. How can we fail? So, what will it be, Tallia? Will you help me?”

Tallia paused and considered the offer. The priest’s tale of a three-eyed wizard was so bizarre and the story of her journey to this river port so unlikely, it was hard not to see the hand of the gods in all this. Tallus, now Tallia, had always been suspicious of the so-called gods. He suspected that most of them were truly just cons and tricks by money-grubbing thieves who prepared to shroud their larceny in sacred robes. He had seen the statues with megaphonic tubes and the trickery that oft passed for miracles. But now what was the Amazon to think? The healing of Hilarius was real enough. Could this crazy priest be right? Was Tallia truly meant to become an agent of the divine? Is that why she had found the sword?

‘Bah! Who can say?’ thought Tallia at last. What was certain is that this priest seemed honorable enough and had saved Hilarius. And with that thought, Tallia laughed and slammed the table so hard that tea spilt everywhere and the table shuddered. Only the guide Sang was quick enough to grab her cup and avoid the wasteful mess. Tallia then stood and drew forth her bright sword. “Help you? Damn right I’ll help you! Did you hear that, devil-blade,” she said speaking straight to her weapon. “I’m going to kill an evil wizard, avenge a murdered priestess and free peasants from his demon-magic! How’s that for walking the road of heroes?”

Liander smiled and thanked the Lord and Lady of Love silently that at last he had found someone crazier than himself. “Magnificent!” cried the priest in genuine joy.

Sang, on the other hand, said nothing and only shook her head and sipped her tea. She was destined, it seemed, to be surrounded by crazy and barbaric foreigners. But in one of Liander’s more lucid moments, he had mentioned that Arion Three-Eyes had escaped from whatever unknown western hell he came from with a great store of golden treasure. She wanted her share. Even if the crazy priest exaggerated wildly, it sounded like a vast fortune. Besides, if things went badly she was confident in her ability to escape even this so-called demon-wizard. These crazy people would make fine distractions.

Also, there was no denying that the strange priest possessed bizarre abilities she had no explanation for. So, if you had to work for someone crazy, it might as well be someone crazy with magic powers. She did find the tall warrior woman quite pretty though… No. No. No. Sang, you fool. Do not bed crazy. When she is rich with wizard-gold, she would find love then in her own time and her own way. Rich people always have lots of prospects, after all. Of course, she said none of this aloud, only watching the boisterous exchange between the priest and the tall warrior woman with bemused interest.

Liander and Tallia on the other hand were anything but quiet. They immediately got along famously and toasted to the death of Three-Eyes. Tallia quickly decided that a proper toast could not be done with tea (which anyways was largely spilt). So, they needed liquor. Tallia produced a handful of silver and tossed it on the table.

“If you’ll not take my silver in payment, let me at least buy you a drink!” she declared.

“A gift from the Gods!” proclaimed Liander with a laugh.

They asked Sang if she knew where to acquire liquor at this late hour and the guide nodded. She collected the coin, departed and soon returned bearing a cask of the local specialty — a kind of rice wine with an utterly unpronounceable name. The concoction proved sweet, cloudy and strong. It was also strangely effervescent, possessing a strange sort of alchemical magic that Tallia had never seen before. It bubbled continuously and danced upon the tongue. The Amazon took one deep swig and declared it worthy stuff. “I like this magic wine!” she declared in genuine awe.

She immediately attacked the arcane brew. Tallia had always considered herself the more practical and sober of the pair, but tonight — after Hilarius’ close brush with death, her own great and gory victory in the tavern and now with destiny staring her straight in this face with this wizard-hunting errand before her — she was in a vivacious and celebratory mood. Round after round of the rice wine met its end as the pair drank deep into the small hours of the night. Sang retired early having said not a word and without having taken even a sip of the liquor. She disappeared from the warehouse entire and Liander was not sure where she slept.

Tallia though still had a purpose throughout the evening that lingered in the back of her brain. There was the possibility that this was all too good to be true, that the priest was lying and this was somehow some sort of subtle manipulation or trap. As she suspected, her tolerance for alcohol had been enhanced like her strength. No doubt the sword at work, which by the way was now lying on the table, close at hand. While Tallia matched the priest drink for drink she also shared stories of her travels and egged on the holy man to do the same.

This strategy worked and soon she was being regaled with tales of Liander’s long voyage to this distant land. Liander’s journey seemed every bit as a strange as Tallia’s own. To hear the priest tell it was full of divine purpose and destiny. Tallia could only conclude that this mad, strange priest was genuine and all this business with the wizard was somehow, impossibly true.

“You want to see a trick?” said the merrily soused priest so late in the evening, it could only properly be called morning.

“Of course!” said Tallia uproariously, deep in her cups.

Liander closed his eyes and focused for a moment. The drunken Amazon became certain that her eyes were deceiving her for sitting exactly where Liander had been was a blonde-haired young woman. The beard was gone, but the curly blonde hair remained. And her eyes had changed not all being the same shade of hazel. Her figure though was subtly slighter than Liander and not as barrel chested. And of course there were the tits! She had a pair of soft, wonderful, womanly breasts that well filled out Liander’s tunic.

“Behold, I am become Liandra, priestess of the Lord and Lady of Love.”

Tallia was aghast. “This magic wine is strong. You became a woman! No, this cannot be real! Can you change back?”

“Yes, but its gets more difficult the more I perform the metamorphosis. I need to rest to replenish myself.”

“This… this is incredible! What are the chances, that in all the world I should meet…”

“It is indeed,” Liandra said humbly, “a really cool trick.”

“A trick? It’s not… No, you don’t understand! Can you do it to others?” said Tallia trying not to sound desperate but utterly failing.

“Sometimes, if the person is truly worthy and willing. But the change has to be their heart’s true desire. Once I met a fellow. He was so sorrowful and seemed so lost. So I spoke to him, ‘why do you weep?’ and he said unto me that…”

“ME!” Tallia interrupted, “Do it to me! Make me a man! Please! You must understand, I’ve been cursed by a magic sword — this magic sword! I was originally a man not even a month ago!”

“Cursed? My dear Tallia I have seen many women in my day and I would hardly call you cursed.”

“I… I know. They sword has not just made me a woman, but a beautiful woman. Maybe even the most beautiful of women. I know this. I have even engaged in the physical act of love as a woman and it was most pleasing.”

“Truly?” said Liandra in a suddenly very sultry voice. “Do go on…”

“No, no, that’s not why I…,” Tallia felt they were getting off track and felt most flustered. And the wine was definitely not helping. “My point is that as beautiful as I am, I’m not me. I know this must sound strange, insane even, but I desperately want to be myself once more.”

“Alright,” Liandra said with a shrug. “I’ll try. But we both must sit very still and allow me to concentrate. Open your mind to me, Tallia.”

“Yes…yes, of course.”

‘Gods,’ Tallia thought she sounded just like Hilarius, nervous, chattering and unable to shut up. ‘Could it really be happening,’ she dared to hope. ‘Will I soon be myself again. And,’ and this thought really scared her, ‘is that even what I truly want?’

Liandra reached out and placed her hand beneath Tallia’s tunic and over the Amazon’s heart. Where the priestess’ hand touched, there was a spreading warmth. A long period of quiet passed with Tallia uncertain anything was happening. Was the warmth just the wine? Was this just some trick to feel her up?

Liandra sat with her eyes closed, focused but serene. At last the priestess opened her eyes, broke contact and said, “This is strange. There is some resistance to my invocation. Either this change is not your heart’s true wish or another god is involved with your transformation.”

“Then the sword spoke truly. I am forever to be a woman,” said Tallia mournfully.

“Swords speak to you? Fires speak to me! We have so much in common!” said the priestess with a giggle.

The Amazon only set there silent and suddenly dark of mood.

“No, no, don’t despair,” said Liandra, realizing her jest had missed its mark. “Let me try again. Remember, Tallia, you have to truly want this. Seek deep within yourself. Want it with all your heart or I can do nothing.”

“I do. I do want this with all my heart!” Tallia focused. ‘I am Tallus,’ she thought to herself. ‘That damned sword did this to me. Not the gods. Not destiny. Not anyone but the devil-blade. I was not asked, despite its lies. I was tricked! Gods on high and in hell, if you have any mercy or justice, make me myself again!’ Tallia suddenly felt very strange. She closed her eyes. Something was happening. ‘Gods it’s working! Gods…’

She opened her eyes. No, no, she was still very definitely a woman and yet… “My cock’s back!” Tallia really had not meant to yell that quite so loud. Her hands checked her new condition, patting down her still female form. “Only my cock’s back!” That was not completely true. Tallia also had testicles.

“I should not invoke the Lord and Lady when I’m drunk,” said the priestess candidly. “I always make a mess of things.” Liandra seemed blasé about this. Tallia on the other hand was panicking.

“Now I’m a half-woman! A freak!”

“Calm down. This transformation is not likely to endure. The spell upon you is very powerful. I think by dawn, you will be back to being fully female and I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to do it again.”

“So, one night of being a freak and then I’m back to being cursed,” said Tallia dourly. “Wonderful.”

“Tallia, my dear new friend, you are not now and never will be a freak,” spoke Liandra warmly. “I have gazed into your heart and seen what you were before. You were a beautiful man, scarred yes but scarred only because of the great wickedness the world wielded against you. And now, with or without your manhood, you are beauty incarnate. I know not if you will ever be restored to your former self, but thank the gods daily for who you are. You are blessed, great Tallia, as few are ever blessed.” Liandra let out a little burp from all the bubbly wine at the end of that speech. It was accidentally quite adorable.

Tallia though was asea now, lost in a wine-storm of churning emotion. She felt a deep sorrow, for part of her did feel truly cursed. In her heart, she was still Tallus and Tallus was a man. That had been taken from her. And yet, the priestess was right. Who was she to complain for being gifted with such power and beauty? Was she an idiot? Was she ungrateful for what was actually a potent divine blessing? Now she was sort of… between. She was yes, very drunk and, yes, aroused. Oh, yes, very aroused! And there was the beautiful, buxom Liandra who spoke such sweet words and Hilarius was alive! She was certain she was losing him only hours ago! Did she love him? Would she love him still if she became a man again? She had a cock! A lovely, warm, stiffening cock… And Liander, now Liandra, was smiling at him…her… This vortex, this whirlwind, this maelstrom, this mind war of wine, wanting and bewilderment… it was simply, at last, too much for this simple warrior.

So she kissed Liandra. And not a thank-you-grandma-for-the-nice-birthday-present kiss. No. This was a full, passionate I-want-your-panties-as-floor-decor kiss. With quite a bit of tongue as well.

Liandra, taken off guard by this sudden affection, finally recovered and breathed again. “Tallia, are you propositioning a priestess of the Temple of Love for sex?”

“Uh, yeah?” Gods — not one of Tallia’s finest retorts. It was closer to a grunt than intelligible words.

“Then unsheathe thy magic sword, O mighty Amazon goddess!” spoke the priestess with great enthusiasm.

“I thought priests were supposed to be chaste,” said Tallia with a smirk. Better. That almost sounded like something Hilarius might say.

Liandra, for her part, was utterly flummoxed by even the idea. “That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. My order celebrates love in all its forms. We commune with the eternal spirit of undying passion as proclaimed in both the heavens and on…”

“Yeah, that’s enough talk out of you,” and Tallia picked up the beautiful little love priestess and tossed her over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes. This worked most magnificently. Liandra stopped explaining the deeper mysteries of her foreign faith and instead began to giggle. Tallia patted Liandra’s shapely, soft bottom appreciatively and hauled her into the back of the warehouse into the small chamber that the priestess had made her quarters.

At last everyone had retired to their beds. The boatmen from Jiu Shan used the upper level of the warehouse for their residences and they were long asleep. Sang had (when she got the wine) used what she considered a just portion of Tallia’s money to get herself a nice private room in a nearby inn she knew to be safe. She was no thief! After all, she had not been paid in several days for her services and also did not trust sleeping in the warehouse district. Thus Sang was also long ago asleep, though beneath fine silk sheets. Hilarius was completely unconscious thanks to both drugs and blood loss. A herd of humping elephants could not have woken him. Long story short, the amorous pair were as close to alone as you can be in crowded, restless Denggang. And anyways, they were drunk enough not to care over much.

Liandra’s “bed” was nothing more than several sacks of rice covered in thin bedding but this proved comfortable enough. Tallia spread out her bear skin cloak in one great flourish over the bed providing another layer of fur-soft padding. The warrior then gently placed the priestess down upon the soft white pelt. Tallia’s scarlet tunic fell easily away with a few strategic shrugs and tugs and soon the Amazon was most resplendently naked. She was six and a half feet of pure feminine perfection save for, where her womanhood had once been, now was a rigid manhood aroused, thick and eager.

“Great Lord and Lady of Love,” whispered Liandra, gazing upward at the rampant warrior. “What a wonder you are…”

Liandra also disrobed, slipping out of her long green robe and even removing her sandals. Soon she too was nude, a beautiful figure of curvaceous womanhood, her bronze sun-kissed skin contrasting splendidly with the pure white of the bear skin. Liandra had known too much deprivation of late to be described in any way as fat. Instead she was a sensual blend of curvy and lean that pleased Tallia greatly. Her sex was beautifully adorned by a tuft of blonde hair every bit as soft and curly as the locks on her head.

Tallia approached and meant to lean down and give the priestess a most sensual kiss. But instead, the eager blonde reared up to face the approaching, erect Amazon. The priestess quickly shifted to being on her knees and found herself face to face with the member she herself had called into being.

She sighed and looked up into Tallia’s emerald green eyes. Liandra was so close now to Tallia’s member that the warrior could feel hot breath on her shaft. “May I?” asked the priestess.

Tallia nodded and the priestess answered that nod by giving the tip of the Amazon’s hard cock a soft, almost worshipful kiss. The touch of her lips yielded a pleasant little spike of pleasure but was nothing compared to what came next. Liandra took Tallia into her mouth and began to softly suckle on that magnificent member. At first, she simply used solely her mouth keeping her hands at her side, pawing at the soft bear skin pelt like a nursing kitten. She closed her eyes and savored the Amazon’s wondrous tool, exploring it with her tongue. She did not gag. She did not relent. She instead did her best to please the mighty Tallia. Her tongue traced the hard ridges and contours of the rigid cock, eager to learn its many secrets.