The Champion's Companion 19 by BlknMild611

Marcos and the girls took a carriage. The slave girls rode with Kaarthen in a wagon behind them. The ship they had chartered for the voyage was a caravel. A long slender ship with a single deck, and a raised half and quarterdeck in the front and rear. The heavy assault infantry detail would also be riding with them back to Pessilberg. After the voyage, Marcos would arrange for a ship up the canal to Mavvus.Marcos and the women finally stood upon the dock of the harbor. The great adventure into Sellis was finally drawing to close.

“We’re packed and prepared correct?” Marcos asked the ship’s quartermaster.

The man replied curtly. “Yes sir, the ship is manifested and will cast off after our arrival.”

Marcos stayed in the rear of the ship after they boarded. Kaarthen and her angels tried to help the ships officers keep discipline by separating the crew from the women.

For all her worrying and constant head counts, a man could just simply pull one away wordlessly by grabbing a wrist and they would meekly follow. Like Mara, they quickly pounced if they saw an exposed, or unattended cock anywhere. Unlike Mara it wasn’t likely or possible for them to be physically drained from the women’s attentions.

The men weren’t mean, or rough with the girls. It was only too easy to bring one to a dark corner on the ship and push their hard cocks into their soft bodies. Any hole the girls took one in, they greedily worked it until it made its offering before they let go or got off. Men quickly found that the girls were wet at every end and ready as soon as they were.

At any given time, two girls were also secreted away in the heavy assault infantry’s sleeping bay. The room quickly became the wilily women’s secretly coveted place. The huge men were found to be huge everywhere. The soldiers were only too happy to liberally feed them the amounts of cum they desired since they didn’t have duties on ship.

They shoved their massive, thick, meaty cocks into the women and rutted for hours it seemed. No woman said no when a huge cock was on the line and they frequently were hauled out by Kaarthen, or Ein shivering wild eyed and dripping and oozing cum. The women usually never fought, but usually they had to be dragged out.

On her many searches for the elusive ‘cum hoarders’, Kaarthen noticed the robed figure of ‘the Colonel’ shrouded in a black robe and huddle in the very front of the room. Marcos said nothing about it to answer her questions as he stayed quietly in the rear of the ship similarly huddled in blankets found from the bed.

The more than week long journey tested Kaarthen’s patience with nearly everyone. She became the caregiver for a petulant Marcos who refused to leave the back of the ship. She became the ship’s hated woman herder. She had to duel constantly with a fast learning Mara who was intent on fucking all the women herself. She also had to become the entertainer for Ein who seemed much more interested in what the ship’s crew was doing. Only Rinis stayed out of the way, as she usually sat across from Marcos staring intently at his many interesting faces of distress.

Finally, they finished their journey and came to Pessilberg, the home Menthino’s Heavy Assault Infantry. The sun was up and coming to just past noon when they approached the busy port city. Triangular sails of white, red, and blue were everywhere. Square rigged vessels of many other designs swirled around them in a dazzling variety sizes and styles. The sails of the vessels were sometimes unadorned. Other times sigils, or simple stripes were used to mark or decorate ships of merchant or transport fleets.

The shape of the city was a wide deep water bay that surrounded a rocky central island. The island connected to a lighthouse and a man made wave break protecting the harbors further in. The narrow gap the ship headed for was almost directly under the island’s massive fortress.

Instead of one castle, the fortification was a warren of massive whitish grey towers connected to each other in dozens of thick walkways that hung through the air. The number of windows facing them from all of the towers was innumerable.

The distances were short between the towers but the gaps still created an illusion that one could easily miss firing on the castle. Their ship floated under and around the defensive structure to a dwarfed landing for ships. Several other boats of fast sleek designs for the canal were chained at the ready along a few nearby quays. Along other docks large wooden ships of war were moored and being tended by antlike sailors prepping them for their tour.

After Kaarthen had caught her for the last time when making her rounds, Mara found herself sitting with Marcos waiting for them to get to the dock.

Looking closer at the tall lean man she’d been serving for several months she noticed his more reticent demeanor and huddled posture. “What’s wrong Master? This place is of your lands correct?”

“Yes Mara, but a witch lives here.” Marcos said quietly pulling tighter into himself.

Mara looked around wide-eyed. “A witch, Master?”

Kaarthen’s interest was peaked and she too came over to find out what was happening. She saw just as Mara did earlier that he was more uneasy and taciturn then usual. “What is your problem Marcos? The Sage of Pessilberg scares you?”

“Only you women call her that.” He huffed at the white haired Amazon. “We have other more realistic names for her.” Marcos pouted.

The boat was unloaded, the Heavy Assault left smiling and hugging the jittery grabby women, ‘the Colonel’ who stayed at the other end of the ship came out and off loaded and scurried under the sun to a covered carriage.

“I want to be on our way immediately!” He said standing to shout at the crew. Oddly, Marcos detailed a few men to stay and insure no one came up the quayside to disturb them. The ploy didn’t work as he intended. A few moments before the ship was unpacked and Marcos could get the large group away, a guard sheepishly appeared before him and pointed back at a short carriage.

“Compliments from the Admiralty and the governor, your Lordship. The Mistress Admiral of yellow and the Cloud Seer request the privilege of…”

Marcos caught the large man with a wild left hook that to his credit only dropped him to his hands and knees.

“FUCK! I told you! I fucking told you! Damn it. Get away from me.” Marcos ranted at him before finally catching himself.

Marcos wearily moved forward with Kaarthen at his side to the end of the dock were the tiny two wheel carriage was waiting. After boarding and arranging for a boat to transfer the others to a canal ready ship and wait for them, they sped off.

The ride was short and brought them to the nearest tower of the labyrinth. Inside Marcos dismissed the servant who still traveled with them and led Kaarthen up and across the tower.

“Each tower has a role in this navy.” Marcos said once they crossed a sky bridge into a noticeably yellow accented room. “Small fleets are detailed for home protection by various small commands. The other commands have their own fleets, bases, and supply chains. They are tasked with areas of responsibility in zones like the Western among the rich colony islands, Southern along our coast, Eastern on the far side of the world.”

“Menthino is a sea power?” Kaarthen asked.

“Not compared to Dar Delis with its unofficial armada of pirate fleets, or some other western island cities that also maintain various profitable colonies.”

Kaarthen considered this bit, and looked at her companion again. “So what about the colors?”

“Yellow is the Admiral of the South. The Cloud seer is a little heathen who asks bones, and little Dark Mother statues for aid in making good weather. Like I said earlier, as the only god with dominion of this world, Dark Mother controls it all. Despite her theater tricks, unintelligible chants, and weird appearance the cloud seer is only kept around to show complaining fishermen with complaints that frankly we aren’t responsible for it every time some drunk gets blown away in a storm.”

Kaarthen chuckled for the first time in a week. “Oh, which one is the one that scares you?”

Marcos gave the Amazon a raw look. “The damn ‘Mistress Admiral’ She’s eight hundred fucking years old. I can’t…” Marcos paused closed his eyes and exhaled. “She is disconcerting.” He said finally.

“Hmm.” Kaarthen mumbled unsatisfied.

After a few turns along within the tower they stood in front of an imposing set of bronze and wood doors. Marcos paused looking at them. Kaarthen could see rage, anger, and several other emotions wrangle across his face.

“She’ll probably just talk to you. I think…umm…don’t worry…Let’s just get this shit over with.” Macros said and pulled open the doors.

The room beyond was an oddly cold but comfortable circular room. The interior was kept open, naked gray stone and yellow marble made up the floor and walls. Along the back and around the sides of the room dark curtains were hung. The center of the floor had a few pillows around a naked fire pit. Before them, the fire burned slowly with incense rising and two women sat in the middle of the circular room.

The woman directly opposite them across the fire sat tall with her shoulders and back straight. An old Amazon’s white hair and slightly wrinkled pale skin were visible. Clear grey eyes regarded them both intelligently, with a slightly amused look for Marcos. Sitting cross-legged, her body was shrouded by a voluminous yellow cloak over a stiff leather dress. Gold jewelry circled her wrist, shoulders, and neck.

Next to her on their right was a tiny, withered, gibbering, woman who perhaps stood as tall as the one sitting down. She wore a shift with clumps of leather pouches and odd trinkets hanging around her neck and waist. Her hair was white and bushy with age. She hefted her walking stick around waving her arms and stomping her feet, and continued to chant into the fire ignoring them.