The Longest Road, Part 11

The real answer to Khaytala's question is, of course, obvious. Yes, one of the Witch Queen's servants is trying to take her down... and that servant is you. It's just that the method by which you're aiming to take her down will be far more enjoyable for her than anything she's imagining.

Still, you're going to have to answer the question. Hopefully in a way that nudges her in the right direction with regard to the actual assassin. "I don't think we should rule out any possibilities yet," you say. "Can you think of any other enemies? Anyone at all who might want to kill you?"

Khaytala thinks for a while, then shrugs. "There's any number who might try something in the heat of the moment," she says. "Plenty of people who... don't care for what I am, or who've butted heads with me over a contract. But something this... calculated? With this much planning and effort behind it? This much expense? I can't think of anyone in particular who I would picture doing it like that."

"That's right, you mentioned that this poison wasn't a cheap one," you say. "Just how uncommon is it? And where did you run into it before?"

"Bandits will use it sometimes," says Khaytala. "But it's rare. Overkill, usually. If they're going to mess around with poison, there's others that will usually get the job done just as well."

"Maybe that's it," you muse. "You said it didn't feel like a bandit attack because they struck early, warning the caravan when they weren't in a position to capitalize on it. But bandits could still be behind it, even if this caravan wasn't a target right now. What if their only goal was just to remove the greatest threat to their activities along this whole road?"

Khaytala considers this. "You could be right," she admits. "Shit. If that's what's going on... then I might be putting the caravan in more danger by being here."

Her face falls as she considers the possibility, and you're pretty sure she's thinking of the merchant who almost died as part of the sniper's ploy to hit her. "We shouldn't jump to conclusions," you say. "This is just speculation. And even if it were true, that's not to say they wouldn't attack the caravan once you were out of the way. Just that you're their main priority."

Khaytala nods, but she still looks uneasy. This idea has to be putting her in a tough position in multiple ways. The hatred toward orcs has already kept her ostracized and ill-paid, but if it became standard practice that any caravan hiring her would come under particular long-distance harassment, in addition to everything else... what would she do then?

You have an obvious answer, of course. But you don't think she's quite ready yet for "come work for the Witch Queen instead" to be a viable suggestion. And if she does decide to part ways with the caravan so they aren't caught up in whoever is attacking her, trying to follow her would be rather suspicious given the cover story you went with. Not to mention how dangerous it would be for her, striking out on her own in such a weakened state, and the assassin still out there.

Instead, you place a hand on her shoulder, giving her a reassuring squeeze. "Don't worry. We'll be on the lookout now. We just need to catch this sniper, and then we can figure out for sure what's really going on. They'll make a mistake sooner or later. You just concentrate on getting your strength back."

Khaytala smiles. "Thanks, Talavar," she says. "I will."

You continue to tend her until she falls into a restless sleep. There are no further attacks over the next few days. As she recovers Khaytala eventually insists on getting up and standing guard once more.

You keep a close eye on her, and she seems to be holding up for the most part. Her eyes scour the surroundings for any sign of her enemy as she walks or rides her patrol. Though you do catch her leaning against one of the wagons every now and then for support when she thinks no one is looking, revealing that she isn't anywhere close to fully recovered yet.

Despite pacing yourself and avoiding unnecessary exertion, you also grow hungry enough over that period that you need to feed again. You slip away with Greta into the night, and once again fuck her into the ground, until you're satiated and she's lying beneath you in a twitching heap, lost in blissful cum-filled euphoria.

As she recovers, you rise to your feet, deciding to continue her instruction in sexual technique. You covered masturbation last time, and this time you tell her that you're going to teach her how to properly give head. She kneels obediently in front of you, nuzzling your member, licking up and down its length. You rest a hand on her head, guiding her movements, coaching her with quiet, firm words. Soon she starts to take your cock directly into her mouth, deeper and deeper.

Eventually you have both hands tight on her head, facefucking her as she eagerly deepthroats you. All the while you continue instructing her, your calm, measured speech at odds with the animalistic intensity with which you're using her. Her hands have dropped to her own crotch, masturbating furiously.

Soon she goes over the edge, and you feel her throat vibrate around you with her muffled scream as she comes. You release into her, having her swallow your demonic seed as best she can. You pull out after it threatens to truly become too much for her, though, spraying the remainder of you inhuman load across her face, which she accepts willingly. "Good girl..." you murmur, stroking her hair affectionately. "You're a quick study. You'll bring a great deal of pleasure to whichever lucky men catch your eye."

Greta's face falls a little at the reminder that her time with you is only temporary, but she nods. It's not something you've ever made a secret of. Instead, she begins to sweep up the cum on her face with her fingers, and then suck them clean. "I'm sorry..." she mumbles. "The girl is... supposed to swallow it all, right? But I... I couldn't."

You shake your head. "Don't let it bother you. Different people have different preferences. Some enjoy it when the woman does that, but others enjoy marking their partner. With enough practice, you can learn to accommodate both, but I'm fine with either."

Once you've cleaned each other up, you each sneak back into camp and fall asleep. Come the morning you awake, feeling refreshed and ready to return to the hunt.

It's no longer quite so easy to have protracted conversations with Khaytala. You get the sense she blames herself for not seeing the sniper earlier, worrying that it might have been because she was distracted by the embarrassing conversation. She isn't impolite, but it is clear when you strike up a conversation with her while she's on patrol that she's forcing herself to keep her attention on the surroundings, on constant guard for the enemy you both know is out there. That makes it difficult to go too deep.

Still, you eventually do find an opportune time. Two nights after you fed on Greta, and just before you're scheduled to reach the village of Eckenburg, you approach Khaytala as she's staring into the campfire, the light from the flames playing softly along her face. She glances up, smiling as you draw near. "Talavar," she says, clearly glad to finally get a chance to sit down and share an unguarded moment. "Good to see you."

You sit down next to her, the two of you staring into the fire together as silence holds sway for a moment. You consider your next course of action. Your flirting in elvish didn't end up working very well, to say the least, and you judge that bringing the subject up again would still be a bit too awkward to be worth it... at least for right now.

Still, there remain the other three avenues of conversation that you identified, each of which might themselves deepen your connection somewhat, as well as help you learn even more about Khaytala's character. They might even lead into their own, more direct ways of flirting as well, ways without the same degree of baggage.