Ian's Quest Pt. 02

It was a grey, wet late November day. Ian walked through a forest getting ready for a winter's slumber: the brown leaves carpeting the ground; the tan branches projecting sharply in the air, naked and cold; the wind singing a plaintive, barren song in the dying light. It had been three days since Ian ate, and his stomach growled. If he were at home, he would have set traps for rabbits and squirrels wandering in search of fading greenery or a daily sip of water, but he was bent on passing to his objective. He was following an old road which would lead inevitably to a town or village, but the road was disused and any town was probably far along its track.

A chorus of howls rang in the distance: a wolf pack in pursuit of prey. Probably a deer or small bear caught alone in the wild, but the pack's calls told Ian the chase was on. His magic staff Kadosh glowed warmly in his hand, which comforted him, but the tenor of the canine cries bothered him: they did not sound as if they were chasing food. The harsh music was playful, cruel, and harsh, but not hungry. It was coming his direction, but he knew he wasn't the object of their chase, so they would likely leave him alone.

Then, a woman came out from between the trees, stumbling into his rude camp. Her face was haggard, she was rail thin, and her strength flagging: she could barely keep going. The wolves weren't far away, they would be in sight in an instant. At first, the woman didn't see Ian, and it was when she almost ran over him she noticed. "Why are the wolves chasing you?" he asked her.

She could only gibber incoherently in reply, falling to the ground exhausted. Ian took a defensive stance over her, holding Kadosh like a quarterstaff in front of him. The broach of Melanthalia pinned to his chest began to glow with a wan, blue light, but his instinct told him he was doing the right thing. He would have defended the woman against a pack of wolves anyway, but this reinforced his intention.

"You must run," the woman spat out at last. "They will kill you if you stand against them. The servants of the Goat King do not desire my death, you do not need defend me. I have been their slave for most of my life, and when they are done with me death will be welcome indeed. Flee!"

"I don't think so," he replied. "I'm more than I seem to be."

The wolves came upon them and slowed quickly, giving confused yips and barks as they saw him. The leader the pack faced him, and growled, baring his hackles. As the pack milled in a semi-circle and prepared to rush him, the broach projected a blue cylinder of light that hummed softly, encircling Ian and the woman. A lone wolf from the fringe leaped forward, testing the cylinder and his hair sizzled when it came into contact, driving the young one back with a frightened yelp of pain. A stalemate settled on the scene.

Then a tall man strode into view, seven feet tall, wearing a leather belt and scabbard. He was nude, his body covered with hair and his head a goat's head, with tall horns swept back. His eyes glared in anger when he saw Ian, and the blue glow of the cylinder reflected more brightly in his eyes and the wolves'.

"Hail, favored by the Lady. I see She protects you, so I will not test her magic. I only ask why you have chosen to interfere with our kingdom, since we are on the same side." His voice was like a goat's bleat, modified to imitate human speech.

Ian shook his head. "Same side? How?"

"Young lord, your broach proclaims the Lady Melanthalia's patronage, and so I surmise you are on your first quest into the world on her behalf. Obviously, our people's legends have not been sung at her court lately, so I will fill you in more prosaically. You are in the kingdom of the Goatmen, we have served the Lady in the past and likely will do so again. This cow you are standing over is vital to our race, well has she served us over the years and will continue so for another four or five, if she lives. Release her to us, and no more need be said. As she herself has told you, we do not seek her death this night."

He looked down and found fear looking back up at him in her eyes. Years of labor, loneliness and terror flashed in his mind, scenes that unnerved him. "What if I say no?"

The Goatman shook his head. "You stretch the Lady's favor with one of her chief allies, but I do not want to fight you over this one. She is expendable: if you want to soil your cock with her cunt, be my guest. We have many such cows and another will be ours soon, we always have our choice, and though she has served us well, I take no sorrow at her departure. I release her to you, young Lord, to curry your favor and bid you remember the giver of this gift. Give me your name, young Lord, so I may know my patron."

"Incustoditus."

"A fine name. Know you the Goat King, Naaman the Splendid, welcomes you with the gift of this chattel and bids you enjoy the liberty of his domain. Convey our greetings to our Lady when next you attend her. Lord Incustoditus, farewell for now." Spinning on his heel, he strode back down the road at a casual pace, the pack peeling off to follow him single file, each wolf glaring at him and baring his teeth until turning to join the procession.

The twilight grew, and when the forest was quiet again, he lowered his defenses. The woman was still laying on the ground underneath him, a look of horror and amazement on her face. "Lord Incustoditus? Who the hell are you?"

"It's a long story. Is there something I can do for you?"

She shook her head and let him help her to her feet. "It's me who should be asking you. I'm flattered you want me, and won't miss the Goat King's foul breath on the back of my neck, but I'm puzzled why, why all this?"

Ian smiled and smoothed the hair on his head. "I'm here to help. Just passing through here to somewhere I haven't been before."

"But you know the Lady, How?"

"I haven't seen her for a very long time. Let's just keep it at that."

She shook her head. "By the way, my name is Lilianth. My cottage is nearby and I dare say you might want a roof over your head tonight. I can tell you about this place, this forest and more about the Goatmen."

"Deal. I will follow you."

"First time I've heard that for a while." Lilianth waited a few moments while he broke his camp, then started walking at a diagonal to the road. Soon it was clear they were on an animal path through the forest. Her gait was fairly steady, and her shoulders slightly stooped. Her head went back and forth, taking in all the signs of the woods around her, alert to any potential hazard. "Didn't know I got this far away, didn't think I could run that fast anymore. It'll take us a few minutes to get home. Where are you from?"

"West of here. Small village."

"All right. You're young, about nineteen summers if I'm right."

"You are. How long have you lived alone here?"

She turned a looked at his face carefully for a moment. "We'll talk about at length later. Let's just say for now, two decades. Prying ears are still around."

"All right. Why were they chasing you?"

"Sport. Once again, more later. In fact, let's just keep the whole conversation on hold until we get under a friendly roof. I'm pretty sure it doesn't matter, and your status will keep us safe, but you can never be too careful. Young lords under the Lady's protection come and go, if you know what I mean."

They made their way at a good pace, stopping to collect some nuts from the forest floor. The cottage Lilianth occupied was set into a little hillock, enclosed on three sides by the hill, with a front wall and roof exposed. She stopped at the door to remove her boots and gestured him to do that same. "Welcome to my home away from home, Lord Incustodius. May this dwelling be blessed by your presence, and send you on your way refreshed."

It was a common greeting from Ian's home area, and he was glad to hear it, making him feel a little more comfortable in a strange place. After crossing the doorway, he asked: "Why home away from home? "Where do you usually live?"

"I am from the village Modus, a day's journey from here. I have not seen it since Midwinter's night twenty one years ago, when they offered me and those of my age to the Goat King for service."

"How long have they ruled your people?"

"Forty years now. There was a horrible fight, and when my village surrendered, the terms were all those finishing eighteen summers were offered to the Goat King at Midwinter's night. One is taken for sacrifice, and the other taken for propagation."

"Propagation? Are there no goat women?"

"No. They need a human woman to breed, and only the Goat King can plant the seed. The others desport themselves as they will, banding together to raid other villages. Occasionally they go to war, sometimes at the bidding of the Lady."

"So, when he called you a cow...?"

"Yes, I've given birth to a score of Goatmen, one every year. Each year it grows more difficult, some day I will die in the attempt if I am not taken by cold or disease or other predator. Sometime when they are done with a cow they make sport of her. I have never seen that."

"And the wolves chasing you?"

"Sport. The Goat King likes his cows to be frightened, exhausted, terrified when he takes them, so he sends the pack to chase us before the act. Please don't worry, he will find another one tonight: his lust will be sated. There are about a dozen of us spread throughout the forest."

"And you all live alone?"

"Yes, once again, by their orders. They do not want us to work together. Enough!"

A crow cawed in the distance, and daylight waned. "It's going to be dark soon, aren't you going to start a fire?"

"We're not permitted fires. I have some roots and greens to feed you, and wine the Goat King presents when a new Goatling is born. After they're weaned, he takes them and I never see them again."

"No fire? This is not right. I will build one, if nothing else."

Lilianth smiled. "My Lord is brave, and the Goat King will probably permit it. With your leave I will gather some sticks and wood."

"You know how to build a fire?"

"Oh yes, we have the knowledge. Someday when my people are free we will build great bonfires once again."

Ian chewed on a turnip and took a sip of wine from a goblet she provided him. Not bad, but not great. Taking Kadosh in one hand, he concentrated on it. His grandfather appeared before him, frowning: "I'm not sure you've done the right thing, Ian, but you are where you are. Modus is your first objective, and I think you know what you'll have to do there."

"Why did they think I was a servant of my mother?"

"The broach will deceive them for a while, but when you show your true loyalty it will not protect you. It will ensure you face her servants on equal terms, at least. I'm not sure Lilianth is trustworthy, but her motives may be mundane rather than evil in itself. The women enslaved by the Goat King go through much pain in their hard lives, and many are desperate. You are to get to Modus as soon as you can, and give them back their humanity."

The old man disappeared, and Ian was lost in thought. It was chilly in the little cottage, but it was clean and well cared for. A rough cradle stood in a corner with some straw for a mattress, and several vegetables hung down from the ceiling, onions, carrots, celery and other such things. There was no table or bed, only a rude mat on top of some rushes in the center of the floor. A basin sat on a stand, and next to it a small tub of water with a ladle.

Lilianth returned with a huge bundle of wood. As she arranged them in her fireplace, she hummed a strange little tune that tugged at the edge of Ian's consciousness. She got her firestarting kit from behind a loose stone in her mantel, and said: "Can't live without fire forever. Light one when I can, usually after my yearly breeding. Goatmen can't abide fire, and forbid the people of Modus from using it. Actually, they forbid all humans under their rule from using fire."

"How awful! They force you to give up your humanity by forbidding you fire, in a sense, force you back into caves."

She smiled and turned to her work. Strike after strike generated sparks, but the wood she gathered was too wet and wouldn't catch. An instinct told Ian to stick Kadosh into the middle of the wood, and it burst into flame immediately. "Handy," she remarked. "Magic staffs are also forbidden by the Goatmen, but Naaman treated you specially. Well, since we've got a fire, I'm going to wash."

Standing up, she removed her blouse quickly without shame, and ladled some water into a smaller basin. Her skin held many blotches and bumps, her arm must have been broken at one time and reset badly, there were stretch marks and wrinkles that betrayed her age. Her face was drawn, and her poverty meant there was little fat on her body. Her breasts hung down, two wobbly spheres that ended in long nipples that reached past her navel. Ian watched her wash; she noticed his attention but paid it little heed.

After finishing the upper half of her body, she removed her skirt and washed her groin. The fuzz above her crotch was as grey as the hair on her head, and a little tummy showed the effects of many pregnancies. Her hips weren't wide, but pock marked.

Ian felt a stirring similar to the encounter with the Queenling, imagining what it would be like to probe her dark channel. Turning to him, she noticed his half erection and smiled. "You bring me hope, Lord Incustodius. My fear was spinsterhood alone in the forest, neglected by the Goat King as too old and ugly, when I passed my fertile years. A human child will stay with me, help me make a better life here, care for me when I am feeble. Give me your seed, my Lord, and I will bless your name forever."

He stood up and lowered his trousers. She gasped when his manhood was uncovered, trembling a little in fear. He lay down before the fire beside her on the rough, hard floor, and touched her shoulder. The tutelage of shepherd's seduction stories around the watchfires served him, as he tried to kiss her and soften her defenses toward him, but she pushed him away after a few moments tender caresses, and she got on all fours before him: "Nay, my lord, I cannot bear gentleness, not after two decades rutting with the Goat King. You must take me roughly, master me, use me as one unwilling, for me to respond to you. I wish I could respond to your tenderness with the same, but that part of me is lost. Mount me as a young buck or a lusty ram and take me." She wiggled her hips and put her face to the floor. "Fuck me hard!"

It wasn't easy, but he smacked her bottom and she sighed. After a few swats, he pushed her down and started probing her crack with his cock: she reached between her legs and guided it to her sex. The head settled in the moist entryway for a moment, then pushed all the way in, making her scream. "Yes, my Lord, yes! Squeeze my breasts while you ravish me." Gathering the ponderous flesh in his hands, he mauled her tits, pinching the nipples hard and twisting them as he pounded her from behind. Her response was immediate: she pushed back to meet his every thrust, trying to bury his entire length in her well traveled snatch. He took a handful of her hair and pulled, she shouted encouragement and grunted in heat. Before long he couldn't hold back and sent a flood deep inside her; a moment later she began to writhe and moan in a new way.

She collapsed on the floor and he pinned her down, still buried to the hilt inside her. Her breathing was hard and gradually slowed to a normal pace. "Thank you...my Lord...wonderful...I never knew...breeding could be so...intense...you've saved me...I owe you...I am yours, forever." He lay on top of her, letting his breathing return to normal as his member deflated and came out of her by its own accord. They were sweating before the fire, steam rose from their flesh in the still cool air of the cottage. "You will stay, won't you, my Lord? I will take care of you."

He rolled over on his back and she snuggled into the crook of his arm against his body. "No, Lilianth. If it is a child you want and tonight gives you one, am content. My quest lies onward. I must go to Modus."

"Modus? Why?"

It took him a moment to make the conclusion. "I must give them back fire."

She rose up, her face aghast, her body shivering. "The Goat King will destroy you. I don't know how you fooled him earlier today, but he will not let you live."

"I must. If I am to be true to my quest, the Goat King must fall."

"The Goatmen will hunt you forever if you kill their King. You must find another way, subdue him and make him give you the fealty he gives the Lady Melanthalia. But how can you do this on your own? The tribe will overwhelm you before you reach their king. You must go back and go around if you want to continue your quest. The way forward is death."

"No. I must make my first stand here, with the people of Modus. I am more than I appear, and I will find a way."

Lilianth snuggled against him. "You give me hope, even though it doesn't make sense. When you can, you may take me again and perhaps again in the morning. I will send you on your way as best I can, even though I think you'll die trying. Even though the Goatmen will ridicule me for bearing a human baby."

"Tell me more about this, how did you come to be their chattel?"

"In my eighteenth summer, I was offered to the Goat King with all those my age. I was chosen to be their breeding cow, and they brought me here to eke out my life as best I could. Ilidris was the male chosen: they hunted him through the forest to start their festival, and when they caught him, he was the beast at the feast."

"Beast at the feast? They killed him and ate him?"

"Yes. All the rest my age were released back to the village, where they may live to this day if they have not starved. Occasionally I see one of the other cows as I forage in the woods. The Goatmen don't want us talking to each other, or working together: those who do are punished, and roasted alive if they persist. That's how it is in the village as well, no one is permitted to work together with anyone other than family."

"Whew! No wonder you haven't been able to resist their rule. They keep you apart to control you. Perhaps they have a representative to impose their will while they're gone."

"Yes, the Warden. He's the only one permitted fire, and his word is law. The Goatmen treat him badly, but rely on his management of the village. If he doesn't do what they want, he dies horribly and someone else from another village takes his place."

Tales from history flooded his mind, he heard his grandfather's voice lecturing on this kind of regime. The answer was simple enough in theory: the difficult thing would be persuading the people to resist together. "Tell me, do the Goatmen appear any other time than Midwinter's night?"

"No. At times a messenger will come from the Goat King, usually for another tax of food and animals, but normally they aren't there any other time of the year. We have all seen what they can do: if anyone questions them, they all come and make the offender an example. They are ruthless and merciless."

"That's all I need. There is a way, I will think about it. Your people will be free."

The fire died down, and Ian fed the flames to keep it going through the night. They slept before the fire, skin touching skin until about an hour before sunrise. "My Lord, we must breed again. Let me get you ready." She touched his dick and stroked it, making it hard, while sucking his nipples. When he was fully erect, she tried to pin him to floor, slapping at him and making him respond in kind, until he flipped her over and bore her down, taking his pleasure in her dampness as he had before that evening. This time it lasted longer, and when he finally filled her depths, she was breathless and limp on the floor. He rose, washed himself, gathered her pack and left her there, sleeping naked in front of the fire, as he slipped into the gathering light...