Deprived
of thought, my mind is numb.
At last this final day has come.
Essus was tapping his foot impatiently as Iaine headed up the path, Mozenrath standing beside her. She seemed to be pointedly not looking at him. He growled inside and had to force himself not attack the sorcer…fellow druid right there. He Iaine headed off the minuet she realized Essus was Mozenrath's next tutor, leaving the two hounds to challenge one another.
Mozenrath gave the darkest possible scowl to Essus as the man approached him. "So what are you to teach me?" He realized, once Essus stood right in front of him, that he was a head taller than the man. He wanted so desperately to smirk all of the sudden.
"The meaning of a hard days work." Essus said with absolutely no expression. He didn't, to his credit, seem at all bothered by the height of the pale man. "Do you know what I did before I was marked a druid? I shoveled horse shit from the stables." He lead Mozenrath around to a set of ten stalls, each one with a proud gelding or mare in them. "Since your lesson with Iaine ran long…" he seemed to snarl at the words. "You can just make sure you have these finished before you sleep tonight." He tossed a shovel Mozenrath's direction and pushed him towards the rank order of the stables.
Mozenrath nearly emptied his stomach as he approached the horse pens. He backed away, eyes watering as he coughed. Oh gods! He snapped his jaw shut. The odor was so bad he could taste it on his tongue. He didn't bother to see if anyone was watching before he threw down the shovel and balked at the whole thing. Oh he'd have to finish the job soon enough, but right now he'd be damned if he was going to let another human being tell him what to do.
A snort caught his attention and he looked up to see a chestnut gelding staring at him with huge black eyes. "What are you staring at." He sniffed and the horse chuffed back at him. What was wrong with the beast? He walked closer and saw that the stable was filled with muck, as if it hadn't been tended to in a week. That did not seem right. These people were adamant about cleanliness, they washed before every meal, even if their bellies rumbled. They kept their homes clean, if cluttered. It didn't hold that they would allow the pen to get so rank.
Mozenrath sighed and picked the shovel back up. "Well, at least you won't cop and attitude." He muttered at the gelding as it snorted back at him.
Essus chuckled to himself at his own cleverness. He was, technically, killing two birds with one stone. Tristan had ordered him to teach the sorcerer humility, as well as pride. If done correctly, the job he had set Mozenrath doing could accomplish both. He doubted the stubborn, arrogant man would get that on the first try. It would probably take a while for the lesson to set in. But Essus didn't mind. He could watch Mozenrath muck out nasty stables all day long.
He knew, and admitted his knowledge of why he disliked the man. There was so much arrogance there. This self confident, outright uppity attitude that transcended his amnesia. Essus knew the man was a danger, he knew what the necromancer had tried to steal from the mountain top. If I were chief druid, he would be bones at the base of the hill. He confided in himself. Mozenrath was a foreigner, a thief, and a disruptor of the very energies that flowed through their community.
No, it was safe to say that Essus did not like Mozenrath one bit. And the final thing that irked him, was it seemed Iaine did.
It was dusk by the time Mozenrath had finished cleaning out the manure from the pens. He took a moment, his chest heavily and washed his hands in a bucket of water someone had left for him earlier. He had taken off the band tying his hair and covered his mouth and nose to avoid breathing in too much and passing out. He looked back with a certain amount of satisfaction. The horses pens were down to smooth black earth and the smell had wafted away once the sun had started to set.
Work is a strange thing. He had started off doing this, not because Essus had ordered him to, but out of a sense of pity that a beauty of a beast like this should walk around in waste product. Now he felt his job wasn't quite finished. He set his shovel down and returned a moment later with a bale of fresh hay. He began methodically laying down the soft straw in the pens, laughing to himself as an inquisitive mare nudged him. He reached out and stroked the soft muzzle, grinning when the animal pushed her nose into it.
A soft laugh reached his ears and Mozenrath turned around, surprised to see the wench who had held him only last week watching his movements. "Oh…hello." He said and continued what he was doing. He suddenly remembered that he had taken off his tunic when the sun grew too hot. Mozenrath felt her eyes on his body. "This…is probably going to sound very rude…all things considering…but what was your name again?"
"Savern. And your not being rude. I didn't exactly get time to introduce myself last time." She strutted forward, fanning out her dark brown hair and batting her pretty eyelashes. She didn't come directly to him, but began to pet the horse he was feed grass to. "Fine animals…" she whispered and rubbed her round cheek to it's jaw. "They say you can tell a man's nature by how he treats his animals."
"Their not mine…" Mozenrath began but realized that Savern must already know that.
"Ah, yet you take such good care of them anyways. This speaks even more in your favor Mozenrath." She chuckled and Mozenrath noticed the way her breasts heaved when she spoke. It was…if he had dared be honest with himself…a little over the top. But damned if he wasn't flattered by the attention! Savern took a bridle from a hook in the door way and hitched it over the horses head. "Have you ever ridden?"
"I…" Mozenrath suddenly remembered. "I have absolutely no idea." He admitted sheepishly. Savern didn't seem to mind though.
"Ah, so it's true you have no memory." She took another bridle and gave it to him. "Take the white mare on the end. She belongs to my younger cousin so if you're a little inexperienced she'll know how to behave." Savern have him a sultry look. "The same doesn't necessarily go for me." She flung herself up on the animals back, all without a skirt out of place or more than a calf shown. "Come on then Mozenrath. A night ride is just the thing after a long day."
Mozenrath followed her example fitting the bridle on the horse and to his own surprise managed to get himself up on the mare with no trouble at all. "Where are we off to?" He asked, following the buxom maids lead.
Savern slowed enough for him to catch up. "I know of a pool down in the next valley, wonderful for night time bathing."
"Aren't you afraid of going off from the village alone?" Mozenrath said. "After all, a young maiden like you might be a rich prize should anyone decide he wants a woman."
"What do I have to fear, I'm with a druid." Savern flashed a cheeky grin back at him. "Besides, any man who wants to lay with me unwilling will find himself missing a few important things come morning. She flashed a thigh and Mozenrath saw a sharp knife strapped there.
Now why did that only excite him more?
About thirty minuets later they arrived at her spot, and Mozenrath had to admit it lovely. The pool was clear blue green, with water lilies floating on the top and a great weeping willow tree crying into the pond. Fireflies dipped close to the water, winking off and on at the duo. Savern dismounted and tied her steed to a tree. Before Mozenrath could get his first leg off she had already thrown her dress off and made her way behind the ferns. The sound of water lapping at the shore caught his ears and Mozenrath came closer, barely containing his laughter.
Mozenrath removed his clothing and folded it neatly by the bush, stepping into the pond. To his surprise the water was pleasantly warm, better yet it felt wonderful to wash some of the muck off himself. Savern hummed pleasantly and took a piece of soap from her dress. "Here, let me wash you." She lathered the soap and began to truly clean Mozenrath's body off.
"Be honest Savern." He turned around, pressing her body to his. "You didn't bring me here for a good bath?" He kissed her cheek carefully, trying to be sure of his interpretation. There was still so much he didn't know, these people were as complicated as their art work.
"Well that depends." Savern chuckled. "If you don't get a good bath, I will have wasted a perfectly good night." She grabbed his shoulders and pushed him under the water, running off to the other side of the pool before he could rise.
Mozenrath came up soaking wet and laughing. Savern's eyes were illuminated by the star alone, shining brightly with the dark of the moon in effect. Her dark hair fanned out all around her face and she pulled the locks back, showing off her facial features. Mozenrath growled playfully and ducked under the surface. Savern giggled, looking around for his form. These were the kind of games meant to be played during a tryst. Sex was wonderful, but leading up to it could be just as fun.