Aphrodite's Reward Ch. 01

His chosen foe wavered. The goblin's spear shook as he stepped back, and then Davos was on him. His sword bit deep. His shield came up to block the warhammer of the goblin's larger comrade. The expected blow was heavier than anything Davos had felt yet; his shield cracked halfway down the center, right to his arm.

Jarred badly, Davos stumbled down onto his back. He swept low with his cutlass, biting into the large goblin's ankle. Howling in pain, the goblin quickly shuffled away, giving Davos time to shed himself of his broken shield and to look for an escape.

Debris lay piled in front of the wall. Davos spotted an overturned cart beside it, and a huge crevasse in the wall, and the ledge up above it... and the oncoming mob, now heartbeats away. Nowhere to run in any direction.

Davos scrambled up, swinging his cutlass wildly to get his opponent out of his way. The goblin fell back onto the street. Davos didn't bother to finish him off. Instead, he stepped onto the large fallen blocks, and then onto the overturned cart, placing his cutlass in his teeth as he had so many times while climbing the ropes on his ship. The cart did not hold up under Davos's weight, but it gave him the boost he needed. He leapt for the crevasse in the wall.

Goblins raged and howled as he caught a handhold, and then secured another, and climbed for his life. He pushed himself further, climbing the battered wall as quickly as he could until his hands reached the ledge.

Small fires continued to burn inside the temple. No safety awaited him within. At best, the roof offered a moment's respite. Davos spared two seconds to consider what to do.

Then he looked down and saw the swarm of goblins boosting one another up onto the wall to climb after him. He remembered then how quickly they had overcome the city's defensive walls.

Too many to fight, he knew. Nothing else to do but run. Run until there is no place else for hands or feet, and then go down swinging. Davos climbed on, swinging himself over the side of the wide roof of the temple. Small patches of tile tumbled away as the temple burned. He ran across the roof, hoping it would not cave in without sparing a thought as to whether it made any difference. He pulled his sword from his teeth. As long as he had space to flee, he would flee.

The Plaza of the Divines opened out to him. Hordes of goblins gathered around a single large, black beast, whose broad tail lazily swept up toward the roof of the Temple of Frey.

Bloodthirsty calls behind him pushed Davos on. Dragon or not, he was as good as dead anyway. Better to go out doing something wild. Davos leapt off the roof, sailing through the air with his heart in his throat until he landed on the dragon's tail.

He scrambled on. The monster swayed and undulated, shifting under Davos's feet almost like a ship in a wild sea. At least, that was what he told himself. A voice inside him screamed, Loki's gaping cunt what the hell am I doing?!

He ran across the dragon's tail, then up its back, and then came headlong up to the big goblin standing on its shoulders with a glowing staff in his hands. The goblin spun around in surprise. A field of soft green light shone around him. It had protected him against arrows, and spears, and magic.

It could not deflect something as large and broad as a human body. Davos didn't even know what the glow was all about; he merely saw a goblin wielding sorcery, and took the only action he could. He tackled the goblin shaman straight off of the dragon's shoulders.

Davos held just enough of his wits to keep the goblin in front of him. He knew how to take a fall: arms out, knees loose, head tucked in.

The world went black. Roughly.

Then awareness returned. He lay on the ground, sore all over, surrounded by noise and shadow and smoke. He rushed to his feet. A goblin struggled to rise beside him, wheezing for breath. Wielding a staff.

Davos opened the goblin's throat with his cutlass.

The shaman fell back. The light from his staff died. For a moment, the world around him went completely still, and then disorientation from his fall caught up to him. Davos swayed on his feet, still trying to track his surroundings. There was a battle, wasn't there? Something scary? Shouldn't he be dead?

"Gnrruugg!" something tall and frightening bellowed. Davos saw the ogre just in time to duck the broad swing of its club. He dodged to his right, stumbled over the dead shaman, fell, and rolled out of the way of the next swing of the club.

Behind the ogre, Ariella gathered herself and looked up to the dragon. It seemed frozen in place. The green light shining from its eyes quickly dimmed. Then she heard the ogre's club crack the tiles of the plaza, and saw the stranger trying to avoid it. The priestess wasted no further time in observation. She pulled the spare dagger from her sleeve and lunged at the ogre from behind.

Davos knew his time was up. The ogre had him. Its club was halfway in swing... and then flew from its hands as it jerked upright and grunted in sudden pain. Davos blinked and saw a woman in white behind the ogre, arms outstretched as if stabbing it in the back.

The ogre struggled to overcome the pain. Its eyes opened toward the sky just in time to see the dragon's maw come down upon it. The ogre's scream was cut off by dozens of fearsome teeth.

Black blood erupted from either side of the dragon's mouth, drenching both Ariella and Davos. It spat out the grisly remains in the next instant. Clawed feet rose from the plaza's streets only to come down again, shaking the world all around everyone. Flame shot from the dragon's mouth, engulfing a broad swath of goblins.

"I will be made no one's fool!" roared the dragon with a voice that shook the plaza almost as badly as its footsteps. The dragon reared back, its tail sweeping away goblin marauders, human bodies and debris. It blew another long gout of flame, catching far more goblins than humans, but plainly indiscriminate in its rage.

Another huge foot came down on the body of the shaman, sending blood, flesh and broken wood from its staff everywhere. Human knights and men-at-arms fell back from the dragon alongside the surviving goblin hordes.

"None shall live to speak of this!" the dragon declared. Blasts of flame went left and right, sweeping the plaza. "None shall survive! All shall burn!"

"Stop!" cried a single voice.

The dragon's head stopped in mid-sweep. The flames cut out in time to spare the Temple of Aphrodite, and the lone, blood-spattered human standing before it with one hand up.

"Just... just stop for a moment," huffed the human in sailor's garb.

"Hmm?" rumbled the dragon.

"I can't let you do that," he said.

The dragon's eyes narrowed. Its snout came ominously close to the human. "You cannot?" it breathed. "And who are... you? No. Wait. You."

"...yes?" blinked Davos, who stood only through an act of pure willpower.

"Yes. I understand now. I... see. You broke the enchantment."

Davos blinked harder. He didn't remember when the battle went from having one dragon to having three, but they seemed to move in perfect synchronicity. At least now maybe they would talk. Woozy and exhausted, Davos reached out with one hand to lean on the snout of the dragon in the middle. "Whazzat mean?" he asked.

"I am in your debt."

"Oh... that's... nice?" He couldn't remember ever loaning anything to a dragon, but it seemed foolish to look this horse in its mouth. Its fire-breathing lizard mouth, or whatever it was.

"Tell you what," Davos managed. "Just don't burn the temple. Wait. Town. I mean the town," he corrected. "Just... just go home and we'll call it even."

He heard another rumble, and then something that sounded like an earthquake saying, "Agreed." He felt a massive gust of wind, followed by another, and then another. The snout wasn't there anymore for him to lean on, either. The wind abated, along with all the dust it had kicked up.

Davos's eyes fluttered open again. The world seemed to spin a bit, but at its center were several people, all looking at him strangely. There was a man in shiny plate mail, with other warriors around him, and a red-haired woman in filthy, blood-drenched robes.

"Wow," Davos said to the woman. "Without all that mess all over you, I'll bet you're really beautiful."

He tried to say more, but then the world spun again. The ground rushed up to slam him in the back. "Oww!" he moaned. "My head fell off of my helmet. Oww..."

* * *

Awakening in a bed rather than a hammock--or less--always stood out these days. Consciousness gradually returned, and so did the pain. Dull, throbbing, all-over pain seemed to fade into his mind along with the rest of physical sensation. It was punctuated by the sharper throbbing of bruises on his shoulder, his left forearm, his head... and by the burning pain of pulled muscles in his legs.

Davos moved a little, testing his muscles and the sensation of the sheets. The muscles worked. So did his skin. Apparently he had no clothes on at all. The bed felt very comfortable. It was more comfortable, perhaps, than any bed he'd ever lain in.

He felt a light breeze on his face, coming through a window off to one side. It was daytime. Of that, he was certain before he opened his eyes. When he did look, finding himself in a bedroom with grey stone walls, artwork and fine wooden furnishings, he had a single, overriding thought:

"I can't possibly pay for this room," he croaked.

"Ah. You are awake," said a gentle, male voice. Davos's eyes swept the room to find a middle-aged man in a fine jerkin and silk shirt sitting in a chair with a small book in his lap. Beside him in another chair sat a young woman in white robes and a hood. Blonde locks peeked out from underneath her hood as she rose. The older man stood as well, closing his book and leaving it on the chair.

"Where am I?" asked Davos.

"You are in the Temple of Isis in the city of Loewen, which still stands... largely thanks to you. I am Edward, Steward to Her Majesty Queen Lisanne."

Davos's eyes widened. "Steward to the queen? And you've been here waiting for me to wake up? Are you sure you don't have me mixed up with someone else?" His eyes flicked to the woman, who stepped forward with Edward but said nothing. He couldn't make out her eyes under that thin hood. The silver emblem hanging from a chain around her neck bore the symbol of Aphrodite rather than Isis.

"I know very little of who you are," Edward smiled patiently, "but there is no mistake. You have become a man of no small concern. A great many important people have awaited your recovery. The priests of Isis had a fair idea of when you would awaken. I haven't been waiting long at all."

Though he listened, Davos's eyes were mostly on the young woman. "Have you been waiting to speak with me, too?" he asked. Though he'd been through the most basic of rites administered by the acolytes, Davos had always felt a bit shy around them. The tales of drunkards, tavern rats and sailors about the priestesses of Aphrodite did little to allay that shyness, though he knew all such men were of dubious credibility. Yet the warmth and ease in his own voice surprised him. "What's your name?"

"I am Cinna, sir," she said, nodding her head in a bit of a bow. "I have waited... longer. How do you feel? Are you well?"

"I'm sore. Sore all over, really. A little confused, and thirsty, but... I think I'm well."

"I am to ask your name, sir," said Cinna, seeming to cut off Edward's next statement. "Your name, and where you are from." She didn't seem to pay any attention to the steward. Davos considered that the hood might make it hard for her to see Edward's open mouth or gesturing hand, but he abandoned that excuse quickly. Cinna's body language spoke of humility and a subtle presence, but just the same she didn't wait on the man beside her to speak, regardless of his stature and importance.

"Uh. I'm Davos. Davos of Murried. I came here as a sailor on the Jaunty Dolphin about two days ago... well. Two days before the battle. How long has it been since then?"

"Ah," nodded Edward. He opened a small parchment case hanging from his belt, drawing a scroll from within and unfurling it as he spoke. "From your garb and armament, we suspected you might be a sailor. You had the look of a foreigner in these lands. It appears our assumptions were accurate accurate.

"The sun has risen twice since the battle," Edward continued as he consulted his scroll. "And... yes. The Jaunty Dolphin set sail the morning after the battle," he frowned. "Several ships left the city as soon as they were able. I'm afraid yours was among them."

Davos let out a bit of a groan and leaned his head back onto his pillow. "I'm sorry," Edward said. "Whether your captain and crew thought you dead or simply couldn't wait, I do not know. I can assure you that no one in Loewen will mistake you for a deserter. Not after what you have done."

"What do you mean?" Davos blinked. "After what I've... wait." He blinked at the ceiling again. His eyes widened. "The battle."

"Yes," nodded Edward. "As I said, you brought the battle to a decisive halt. You slew the leader of the goblin horde. You turned the dragon against its allies and drove it off," he smiled gently. "You are quite the hero."

"I'm--what? But I--"

"Are you alone here in this city, Davos of Murried?" interrupted Cinna.

"Yes," Davos answered, glancing at Edward curiously. The steward merely shrugged and looked to the priestess for further elaboration, just as Davos did.

"What gods do you worship?" she asked.

"Um. All as are appropriate," he shrugged. "I pray to the seas most commonly. I sacrifice to Isis, Thor, Athena..."

"But not Aphrodite?" Her tone gave no indication of her feelings on the matter. The priestess maintained a perfectly neutral demeanor.

Davos glanced at Edward for only a moment, now feeling somewhat embarrassed. He didn't talk about this much. "I took Aphrodite as my patron when I came of age," he admitted quietly. "I pray to her often, and give to her shrines when I find them, though to no direct purpose. I have not asked for intercession or petitioned her temples."

"You are without a lover," noted Cinna.

Davos shook his head. He gave a bit of a frown. "Or a job, apparently."

"You've little to worry about there," assured Edward. "The Temple of Isis expects no payment for your care. I am here in part to see to your needs from here, at least for a few nights. The city is still in recovery, and the queen and king are still quite occupied with that, but when such matters have been settled, the crown looks forward to rewarding you appropriately." He smiled as a look of surprise crossed Davos's face. "I cannot say what that will be, but you will certainly see greater fortune here in Loewen than you would have expected on the Dolphin."

Feeling a bit too overwhelmed to crack a smile at that, Davos only nodded. His eyes turned back to Cinna.

"You set out to fight for the Temple of Aphrodite," she said flatly.

"I did," he nodded. Then he glanced at Edward. "I fought near a gate, but the lines broke. I had no orders to go anywhere or report to anyone if that happened."

"You've no need to explain yourself to me," Edward shrugged. "We're all well aware of the chaos of that night."

Davos frowned. "The red-haired woman. Is she alright?"

"She is fine," answered Cinna.

He let out a sigh. "That's good," he said. "She saved me from that ogre."

"Do you know who she is?" Cinna asked.

"No," Davos shrugged.

"She is Ariella, High Priestess to the Goddess Aphrodite," Cinna said. "I must go to her now. For myself," she added, only now showing any emotion as her voice softened, "you have my gratitude, Davos of Muried. For all that you have done. Thank you. I hope to speak with you more later, when I am not on the business of the temple. " With that, she gave another slight bowing nod of her head and left the room.

"She speaks truly," Edward explained as she left. "I understand she has been here since you were brought in."

"Didn't you say it's been two days?"

"Yes," he nodded sagely. Then he shrugged off that concern for more practical matters. "I'll fetch one of the acolytes to look over your wounds. If you're ready to move, we'll see to getting you settled in new lodgings."

* * *

Repairs to the rest of the temple could wait. The main doors stood secure once again and the blood and bodies had been removed for proper burial--or cremation, as was the goblin way. Ariella bore no love for her attackers, but her anger and will to do harm ended at death. She saw no reason to insult a foe beyond the grave.

She stood naked in the entrance to the inner sanctum, watching as her acolytes performed rituals of thanks and praise around the statue of Aphrodite. As with all such rites, the faithful bared their bodies to the goddess in a quiet demonstration of gratitude and joy. Ariella's beauty was second to none, possessed of flowing red hair, a slender, shapely figure and full, pert breasts. She bore a youthful glow that refused to wane as the years passed; she looked to be perhaps halfway through her twenties, though she was more than a decade older. Aphrodite granted health and beauty to her devotees, and the faithful celebrated her in turn by exercising those blessings in her honor.

Men fantasized about events within the temple. Not a season passed without some foolish man caught trying to slip inside. On the one hand, Ariella couldn't blame them; the salacious tales shared in taverns were not far from the truth. Even after all these years of service Ariella was still easily aroused by the sort of worship that occurred beyond the public eye. Even now her warm body trembled.

Yet few men carried with them the proper reverence for the goddess and her dominion. They succumbed to lust, but did not respect it. Not all men were so shallow; some other temples housed men as servants and even priests, but Ariella's temple was not so fortunate. The goddess refused to lower her standards. Ariella considered the failings of her male petitioners a shame, but devotion to Aphrodite had to be for Aphrodite, and not for her rewards.

Today marked Zenobia's first service as the honored avatar of the goddess. Now a month past her twentieth birthday, the lithe and slender brunette had completed all of the necessary services to take her place as a full priestess. Ariella could not help but smile whenever she looked at her young apprentice; shyness was not a common trait among Aphrodite's servants, but Zenobia never quite overcame hers. She pushed out of her shell and took her place among the others as an act of both faith and desire.

Ariella admired her courage. She also appreciated the special twist that Zenobia's shyness put on her sexuality. Her hesitation often increased the desire of her partners.

Zenobia reclined naked on the altar, cradled in the embrace of another nude acolyte with her arms and legs spread wide for her sisters among the faith. She had spent much of the night previous in secluded meditation. Her morning consisted of ritual bathing and grooming. For all her natural beauty, serving as the mortal intermediary for Aphrodite required special care and preparation.

Once the ceremony began, however, all the avatar had to do was lay back and accept the worship of the devoted. A proper mindset was important, but the primary role of the avatar in this ritual was to receive love and sexual pleasures for the goddess. Aphrodite welcomed her avatars to enjoy the role.

Blonde and lovely Keaswen sat behind Zenobia to offer her intimate and affectionate support as their sisters in faith saw to the pleasure of Zenobia--and, through her, the goddess. Zenobia draped her arms on the naked backs of two more women, each of them leaning in to kiss and softly knead her breasts. Zenobia's head rolled from side to side against Keaswen's shoulder as the chosen avatar sighed out her pleasures.