The Sinners of Erspia

“Don't point your weapon at me, lad. I might get annoyed.” The horseman nudged his mount suddenly and came splashing through the shallow water. On gaining the near bank he whirled his horse, forcing Hugger and Histrina apart. Hugger received a sharp rap on the skull with the butt of the horseman's lance, sending him reeling. At the same time Hugger's own lance was wrenched from his grasp and flung into the river.

The horseman dismounted, jabbing his own lance point first into the turf and leaving it standing. Histrina shrank back as he approached her, still grinning.

“Where are you from, my dear? One of the villages?"

“Yes,” she whispered. “Courhart."

“Courhart?” He frowned. “I know it, I think. You're some way from home, aren't you, my pretty? Come and let Drosh give you some home comforts. A spot of pleasure to cure your homesickness."

He reached out, fondling her gown. Histrina gasped in alarm.

“You're a fine-looking one,” he complimented. “One to be enjoyed."

Hugger, who had been on his knees, holding his head, was on his feet again. He took in the scene in an instant: the intruder, his back to him, pressing his attentions upon Histrina; the lance, carelessly left unguarded.

He stepped stealthily round the horse and pulled out the lance, but clumsily; ‘Drosh’ heard it rip turf, and turned unhurriedly, to see Hugger bearing down on him in an attempt to spit him.

Drosh did not seem in the least discommoded. He side-stepped, and in the same fluid motion drew a short sword which neither of the others had noticed beneath his cloak. Hugger was much too slow with the long lance. Drosh had turned inside his grip. The flat of his sword hit the villager's knuckles; at the same time his left hand seized the shaft of the lance and forced it up.

His sword blade plunged through Hugger's ribs.

It had all taken place in a second. Hugger uttered a choking sound and fell back. A sinister ecstatic look came to Drosh's face. He lifted his hand from the sword hilt and spread his fingers, letting the weapon fall with the corpse, hilt projecting skyward from the stilled chest.

Histrina screamed wildly. "You've killed him!"

“It's all in a day's work, my dear. I'll come to another bit of pleasantness shortly. It annoyed your friend to see me about to poke you, eh? Poked you often enough himself, I expect, has he?” While he spoke he picked up the lance which had slipped from Hugger's dead fingers. “A stiff young fellow, was he? Let's see him proud."

Hugger lay with legs outspread. Drosh chuckled savagely and drove the lance into the earth at his crotch, so that it thrust up as a longer companion to the upward slant of the sword, grotesquely suggestive.

Histrina was biting her knuckles. Her eyes stared. She stumbled back as Drosh came at her, but was too frightened to run. She screamed again, however, when he caught hold of her.

At first everything was a blur to her sensibilities. He was shoving her, forcing her down on her knees by the bank of the stream. Her face entered the water, was held there and held there. He was drowning her!

She gurgled, struggled feebly, and began to experience suffocation. Then the gown came up over her rump. She felt him enter her from behind, squirming to get himself firmly in.

He let her face out of the water when his thrusting motions became regular. It was like having Hugger in her, she realized, and the feelings were taking her over just as they had then. She began to moan, to wiggle, and when he saw that she was no longer resisting he let go her wrists, which he had held behind her back in one meaty hand, and there, her forearms in the mud, splashing in the water, they coupled and coupled.

When he had finished with her he stood up. She turned over and lay propped up on her elbows, all modesty gone, legs lewdly open. She merely avoided looking at the body of her former lover, even when Drosh put a foot on Hugger's chest and yanked his sword from the flesh with a sucking sound, wiping the blade on the dead man's shirt.

Oh, her experiences had come so fast in the past few hours, she realized!

And she had enjoyed them all! But now she became fearful that Drosh would kill her too. She need not have worried. He merely sheathed his sword and stood over her with a cheerful grin.

“So what were you doing out here, my lovely?"

Breathlessly, she answered. “We fell from grace. We were looking to join Ahriman's horde."

Drosh threw back his head. His strong white teeth flashed as he laughed. “Ahriman's horde! Well, you've found it!"

He held out his hand. “Come, lass, and welcome. But remember, you are Drosh's whore."

She accepted his hand and let him pull her to her feet. He went to his horse, put one foot in the stirrup, and was astride in one energetic leap. Then he helped Histrina to mount behind him, and reached over to recover his lance.