Chapter 58: Between a Rock and Hard Cock

Story by Tesslyn on SoFurry

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#58 of Fox Hunt 3: Sword and Stone


Between a Rock and Hard Cock

Chapter 58

The next day, sunlight fell in shifting beams, reaching through the tall, slender trees as the group set out in search of Hildrith'el's great temple. According to Motsumi, there were many temples to Hildrith'el in the Summer Valley, as the ancient kingdom - once known as Su'mer - was said to have been ruled by foxes who worshipped her as the one and true goddess. Most of the temples were very small, but the very largest temple was at the heart of the kingdom and was said to have housed the stair to Skkye. The "stair" was the world's very first portal and the basis for the portals the foxes imitated at their shrines. Before Hildrith'el closed the way, one who stepped into the portal's light would have been taken to Skkye. Or so said the writings they found along the way.

There were many libraries scattered throughout the kingdom, all of them containing books that were perfectly preserved. Many of the books contained records of the ancient times: weddings, funerals, great leaders and war heroes, as well as famous criminals and cults against the gods. One book told the story of how and why Hildrith'el sent the dogs to Aonre. It began when a princess named Nyri was baptized in the name of Hildrith'el and retired to the great temple, where she would remain pure for the goddess and would worship her the rest of her days. Nyri saw an image of Hildrith'el's daughter, the warrior goddess Xanta, on a mural in Hildrith'el's great temple and fell in love with her. She called to Xanta in prayer, and the goddess came to Aonre and in turn fell in love with Nyri. But Xanta could not stay, as Aonre was poison to her. Xanta left again, and Nyri wept without her. To comfort her love, Xanta wrote Nyri's name in the sky. A mortal warrior - a male who remained unnamed in the accounts - was also in love with Nyri and grew jealous of her romance with the goddess. He lured Xanta to Aonre by capturing Nyri, and when Xanta arrived to save her love, the male warrior set upon her with his friends and slew her. In sorrow, Hildrith'el withdrew, and without her light, the foxes wept. But after the death of Xanta, many foxes realized the gods could be slain, and they gathered to storm the gates of Heaven. Xantu - Xanta's brother - fell defending Skkye. In anger, Hildrith'el sent the dogs to kill all the foxes and wipe them completely from the world. But Ayni objected. She of Fire spread her wings, and instead of disappearing entirely, the foxes fled into the forests and many were spared.

So said the records, which appeared to have been written years after the events took place. The story was signed at the bottom with a cryptic X by one who claimed to have been there and had witnessed it all. After reading the account, Ettoras had the feeling that the same warrior who had killed Xanta in a jealous rage was the one who had written the story. They discovered a skeleton in the back room of the library where they'd found the story, and because it was the only skeleton they had ever seen in the valley, it immediately became apparent that the writer of the account had remained behind in Su'mer long after it was deserted to record his story, which had read more like a confession than anything.

Ettoras found the account of Princess Nyri and Xanta disturbing. It disturbed him because the account portrayed Ayni as the hero and Hildrith'el as the victim turned villain. All his life, Azrian had warned him of Ayni and he had come to believe that Ayni was nothing but evil. He had pitied Kayya's mother for being brainwashed into worshipping such a goddess. Now he was beginning to understand how truly mortal at heart the gods were. The gods all believed they were doing the right thing: Hildrith'el took vengeance for her children, while Ayni tried to shield those foxes who were caught in-between, and Ti'uu tried to make the best of a bad situation by forcing dog and fox to merge. But in the end, all of it was a big mess. Ettoras was starting to wonder if mortals wouldn't have been better off without godly interference.

At noon, they stopped to rest beside a river where slender trees stood tall from the water and orange flowers were in bloom. Out on the water, long pleasure barges floated along, completely devoid of passengers, and Ettoras could see the empty lounge chairs, the glasses of lemonade that stood perfectly still on little tables, the white veils that lifted in the breeze across a harp with no player. It was chilling. Everything was empty and frozen in place, as if the foxes had simply vanished on the spot. The stories said the foxes had even more magic during ancient times, so Ettoras wouldn't have been surprised if some great sorcerer hadn't cast a spell to transport everyone instantaneously. That the foxes could have commanded such power once and yet had been all but destroyed by the dogs . . . baffled Ettoras. But he reminded himself that he was the son of a goddess and yet a mortal had stolen his godhood behind his all-powerful mother's back. He was suddenly very glad he could not see S'pru from the valley, as he hated thinking of Nerayn. Knowing that everything could have been prevented if he had just killed her - and knowing that he couldn't have brought himself to kill her - made him feel at once frustrated and helpless.

The others sat in the grass or leaned against the trees as Nkwe built up a fire and Motsumi prepared to cook lunch. Palesa and Pili stood restlessly, as vigilant as if the place weren't entirely empty. Both females seemed nervous, as did Nkwe and Motsumi, while Yeneneshe paced back and forth with a strained expression. Ettoras had to wonder why. Where was the danger? There was nothing here but trees, flowers, empty palaces, and birdsong. He noticed that Zeinara and Kayya seemed baffled by how on-edge the others were, as did Florian and Shakir. Florian watched Yeneneshe pacing and shook his head wearily.

"What's the matter?" the prince of Curith demanded. He waved a lazy paw and his lip curled in a sneer. "There's some horrid monster stalking us from the shadows, isn't there? And the rest of you lot think that by coddling us, you'll have a pleasant stroll to the temple."

Motsumi sighed wearily. "There are many things to fear in the valley, Florian," he said, stirring his ladle through a pot. "It is something you have always known. You said yourself that your family warned you never to come here."

"Yes, but they never said why," Florian answered. Beside him, Shakir looked unhappy.

Motsumi didn't seem inclined to say why either. He started ladling out bowls and everyone gathered around for their share. Ettoras saw Azrian take a spoon from her boot and sit down to eat. Palesa likewise kept a spoon behind her ear, and for some reason, Nkwe always seemed to have a ladle handy. Florian glanced around wishing he had a spoon, then shrugged and drank straight from his bowl, while Shakir plucked a blade of grass and used it like a straw. Kayya watched Shakir for a while and then did likewise, blinking in surprise with how useful a blade of grass could be.

Yeneneshe was still pacing on the edge of their camp, and Ettoras wanted to grab her and make her sit down. She was nervous and it was making him nervous. Each time she passed him, he was half inclined to snatch her fluffy white tail and pull her into his lap.

"Sit, little sister," Nkwe coaxed Yeneneshe. "And eat. You must keep up your strength, and your pacing will not keep danger away."

Yeneneshe nodded unhappily and did as her brother asked her. Ettoras wanted to take her aside and drill her for information. She seemed to know what the others were afraid of, and he didn't like being in the dark. Instead, he wandered alone to the edge of the river and stepped in the shallows. He didn't think he could eat. He could feel the magic of the valley tingling through him, and he thought it was sustaining him. He squatted in the shallows, his muscular back flexing, and his wings spreading to absorb in the warmth of the sun. He could see his reflection on the water, and his golden mane and feathers had a soft glow in the light. It made him look otherworldly, and as he stared at himself in the water, he remembered that he was otherworldly. He was wearing tight leggings and a pair of boots Simon had given him back at Canderly, but he wore no shirt, as he was tired of his wings being restricted by coats and itchy fabric. The result was hard thighs pressing through tight pants, a bare rippling belly, round pectorals, and a bulge choked by fabric. With his back to the others, Ettoras discreetly adjusted his sack. He hated dog clothing and didn't understand why the males wore such tight pants. Didn't they want to breathe?

Ettoras heard footfall and smelled his mother before she arrived at his side. He was startled to see Yeneneshe's reflection blossom in a ripple on the water. He could see her sitting beside Nkwe and picking sullenly at her bowl. His heart skipped a beat and he splashed the image away with the flat of his paw. Azrian smiled.

"You should eat," his mother said. "Here. Eat from mine."

Ettoras frowned, not looking at her. "I'm fine." He sat on the bank and swallowed hard when his mother sat beside him. He had never dreamed in a thousand years that he would ever find her beside him. How long had he dreamt of hugging her, kissing her cheeks, feeling her warm arms around him, even tickling her? And now she was here . . . and he couldn't even look at her. He wasn't still angry with Azrian, just . . . unhappy. He kept thinking he wanted to go home, but was it even home anymore? Or was it ashes and dust?

"She's very pretty, isn't she?" Azrian said after some time. "Yeneneshe."

Ettoras glanced over. His mother was sitting with her legs folded. She was wearing a fuzzy bearskin coat and pants that made her seem miniscule within the fabric, as if it were swallowing her up. She looked as if she was wearing a bear, and he realized she must have come from some place very cold before finding him.

"How'd you wind up with us?" Ettoras asked and looked away again. "You and Nkwe never explained how you found each other."

Azrian smiled. "Yes, we did. You were too busy brooding and sulking to pay attention."

Ettoras kept his mouth tight to avoid smiling at her teasing tone. But she was right. He seemed to remember some conversation about a demon called the Ravisher, and how Zeinara had blushed to hear the name and had become upset. Zeinara had been sort of moody lately and Ettoras couldn't figure it out. Her outburst back in the tunnels still baffled him and he could sense that she was still upset about something, though everyone else seemed to have forgotten about it or else chalked it up to the presence of Hawkeye.

"Mother . . . I'm sorry all this happened to you," Ettoras said hoarsely. "I'm sorry the demon hurt you, and I wasn't there to help --"

"Hush, Ettoras," Azrian said softly, and he closed his eyes when her slender fingers smoothed his golden mane. "You were a hero that day. You saved your sister from falling to her death without hesitating." She smiled. "I was very proud of my boy."

Ettoras dropped his eyes. "Will they grow back?" he wondered.

"Perhaps," Azrian answered, and he thought she sounded as if she didn't care either way. "If I were to regain my immortality, even partially, I could just grow them back. It makes no difference to me . . . I never wanted wings."

Azrian sounded so unhappy that Ettoras looked anxiously at his mother. But her sadness was gone as quickly as it'd come, and she smiled as she poked through her stew.

"You never answered me about Yeneneshe," Azrian said, smiling to herself. Her slanted eyes glanced Yeneneshe's way. Yeneneshe was still seated beside Nkwe as she ate from her bowl. Her white mane was mussed and she appeared very tired and distracted. Looking at her himself, Ettoras thought she hadn't gotten any sleep at all. And yes . . . she was absolutely beautiful.

Ettoras quickly looked away from Yeneneshe when he felt his mother's amused stare. "I suppose she's pretty," he said nonchalantly.

"You suppose," Azrian said with a laugh. "And yet you think of her constantly. Yfel must have a sense of humor. I sent Yeneneshe away from Wychowl when she was a child --"

Ettoras looked at his mother quickly.

"-- and I never expected to see her again. Now she is in love with my son. Now she could be my daughter and rule S'pru, my world, in my place," Azrian said, pushing her spoon through her stew. "Perhaps a daughter of Chaos will win after all. And how could I turn her away when my son loves her so? When I love her so? Perhaps . . ." Azrian laughed sadly. "Perhaps Yfel meant for me to cross paths with the girl, so that I would pity her. . . if not love her." She blinked thoughtfully.

"You . . ." Ettoras cleared his throat. "You know Yen?"

"I did," Azrian confirmed. "Twenty years ago, I tried to rule Varimore and made a mess of it. Yeneneshe was captured and brought to your father's court. Your father wasn't there - it's a long story - but I was there, and I managed to sneak Yeneneshe from the castle with one of the servants. I would be very curious to hear how she escaped . . . and if Gallus lived." Azrian dropped her eyes. "Part of me is afraid to ask. I know it must have been very traumatic for her. She was so young . . ."

Ettoras stared at Yeneneshe in quiet surprise. "I had no idea. She never told me any of this. She was a prisoner in Wychowl?" He scowled at the very thought.

"Yes," Azrian said darkly. "I knew if I didn't get Yeneneshe away, she would die." Azrian shook her head unhappily. "Now I see none of it had to happen. The dogs would have accepted me if only I'd come forward. . . . just as they accepted me before."

Ettoras frowned. "What do you mean?"

Azrian smiled at her son sadly. "I'm a reincarnation, Ettoras," she said, and Ettoras felt his ears prick forward.

"Have you heard the dogs tell their stories of Queen Nadheertia?" Azrian asked.

"She was conquered by some dog king or something," Ettoras said with a shrug.

"That would be King Antony," Azrian confirmed with a nod. "Your ancestor. Your father is the king reincarnated, and I am Nadheertia. Each time King Antony is reborn, Ti'uu brings Nadheertia back. King Antony was born again as Etienne, and so Ti'uu called me back."

Ettoras made a face. "But why?"

Azrian shook her head and her eyes dropped to her bowl. "To correct his mistakes? To make his sacrifices mean something? I used to despise him for it, but after S'pru, I . . . I understand. Now more than ever." Azrian stared off, and Ettoras knew she was blaming herself for everything that was happening. He hesitated and put his arm around his mother. She smiled at him, and her eyes were so sad, he kissed her on the head, and she laughed.

"You are so much like your father," Azrian said, startling Ettoras.

Ettoras glowered at the water. He did not want to talk about Etienne. "I am nothing like him," he muttered.

"Oh, but you are," Azrian said, very amused. She frowned sadly. "Don't be angry with your father. He had a duty as king and could not leave Aonre. And even though he is the reincarnated son of a supreme being," she said with a laugh, "there was no way for him to come to S'pru without it resulting in his immediate death. S'pru was created for foxes and only for foxes."

Ettoras stared at the water, wanting and failing to be angry. His ears went back flat in his golden mane. "Why didn't you tell him about me? Because you knew he would come?"

"Yes," Azrian admitted softly.

Ettoras' face darkened. "Why didn't you tell me about him? You let me go on not knowing where I came from! And when you finally decided to tell me the truth, you barred me from the palace!" His body tightened, but he felt his muscles relax when his mother touched his face. Her eyes were so sad, he didn't know how to be angry. But he wanted to be. He felt as if she deserved his anger, no matter what Zeinara said.

"I wanted you to live a normal life, a mortal life. I thought it best you live with Kayya in the peace and safety of our world. I regret never telling you about your father, do not think otherwise. As if I kept the truth from you with wicked muhahas!"

Ettoras dropped his eyes and laughed in spite of himself. "Alright, alright, so you didn't _mean_to hurt me," he admitted.

"I knew that you would leave to find your father, which would only lead to trouble." Azrian sighed. "And here we are."

"I'm sorry," Ettoras said heavily. "But, Mother, you still should have told me. Maybe if you told me, I wouldn't have left in the first place. Maybe I would have understood! And you should have told him. We had a right to know about each other."

Azrian frowned. "What _good_would it have done you, knowing your father was far away and you could not reach him? You would have grown up in sadness and despair, and if I know your father well, he would have wasted away drinking and lamenting that he could not reach you either . . ." She laughed sadly. "And nothing would ever get done then."

"But he missed you!" Ettoras protested angrily. "That had to be bad enough on its own!"

"That is something your father could deal with, Ettoras. Missing me would not have impeded on his duties as king."

Just his duties as a father, Ettoras thought and glanced at Zeinara. "It still wasn't your decision to make," he said stubbornly and glared at the water.

"No," Azrian quietly agreed. "But it was a decision that had to be made. And I made it."

They sat in silence for a time. Azrian finished her stew, tipping the bowl back to drink the last dregs. She licked the spoon and slid it in her boot. Ettoras plucked an orange flower petal from the water and twirled the slumped thing in his fingers.

"Will he be angry," Ettoras asked, "when we arrive at Wychowl? Will he chain me up like Jule?"

Azrian frowned. "Your father is not that sort of male, Ettoras."

"But he's a dog," Ettoras said darkly.

"All the dogs you have known have not treated you poorly, I'm certain of it. And even if they had, you have not met all dogs. And you have not met your father."

Ettoras cast his eyes down and suddenly felt very sad. "What if I don't want to meet him?" He added under his breath, "What if he doesn't want to meet me?"

"Your father will want you. That is not in question," Azrian answered and stroked her son's golden mane again. "And as much as he will want you, you shouldn't go to Wychowl, though you may have to." She sighed unhappily. "Before the end."

Azrian sounded so worried that Ettoras looked at her with concern.

"Not because of your father," Azrian said. "It simply isn't safe for you. You should return to S'pru --"

"But that isn't safe for me either."

"No," Azrian said apologetically. "It is not."

"What's so dangerous about Wychowl?" Ettoras asked and stared at the water.

Azrian smiled sadly. "What isn't dangerous about Wychowl? If we do wind up coming there, your father will be overjoyed to finally know you. I'm sure he already knows of your existence by now."

"How could he?"

"Pili was sent to secure you as well as Zeinara, remember?"

Ettoras blinked into space. That was true. "You think . . . you think he'll love me?" he wondered unhappily. He closed his eyes when his mother's small paw stroked his mane again.

"I'm sure he already loves you," Azrian assured him, "without even knowing you."

***

They continued through the ancient kingdom, wandering through the trees until dusk, when Motsumi pressed the issue of finding shelter. They had left the first village behind hours ago, and while another was in the distance, it was not near enough for them to reach before nightfall. Before the group really had a chance to debate the issue, there was a howl in the distance. Yeneneshe felt her heart skip a painful beat when she saw the black silhouettes charging at them across the field: they were coming!

"Run!" Motsumi bellowed. "Run for the village!" His eyes glowed yellow, and Kayya screamed when beams shot from his gaze. The yellow fire zapped across the field and hit the first beast in the face. It snarled as it tumbled down in the grass, wreathing and screaming in pain. Yellow fire licked along its fur, dancing in the moonlight like the white fire of the sun.

The others fled at once. Zeinara took Kayya's paw and pulled her away at a break-neck speed. Pili followed Zeinara, grimly pulling her dagger as she went. Florian bodily lifted Shakir in his arms and ran hard, and Shakir clung to Florian's neck, peering in horror over the prince's shoulder at the giant monsters who charged at them.

Ettoras didn't budge, though Azrian went toward the oncoming horde, shouting for her son to flee. Ettoras ignored his mother and looked at Yeneneshe.

Yeneneshe had no intention of going anywhere. Nkwe hadn't moved from Palesa's side, and she was afraid that he would be killed the moment she turned her back. After finding her brother again after all these years, she was terrified of losing him. She put her arm around Nkwe and dropped her head on his shoulder. She smiled sadly when he kissed her mane.

"I want you to run with Ettoras," Nkwe gently told Yeneneshe. "I will stay here with --"

"Don't be stupid!" Palesa shouted. "Run with the others, Nkwe!" She stood beside Motsumi, shooting her bow of light at the oncoming monsters, and across the field, Azrian battled them by conjuring great waves of water.

Yeneneshe watched Azrian fighting with her mouth slightly open. Even in her mortal form, Azrian still commanded the water, and everything about her - her clothing, her mane, her tail -- was fluid, hypnotic, tossing like the waves on the shore. Her mane and tail flowed around her on an ethereal breeze, her mane floating across eyes that swirled like water. She summoned a wall of water that slowed the creatures down as they ran through it, but it did not block the creatures from advancing further. One of the beasts managed to grab Azrian around the waist and lifted her bodily, prepared to force her down on its enormous, dripping cock.

"Mother!" Ettoras shouted and spread his wings as if he would lift into the air, but Motsumi shot fire from his eyes at the creature, and it released Azrian. Yeneneshe felt the tight fear in her chest ebbing away when Azrian rode a current of water down to the grass. But the Second Light collapsed as soon as she touched the ground, and Ettoras shouted again.

Ettoras moved as if he would run to his mother, but Nkwe put his arm out and stopped him. "Take my sister," Nkwe told Ettoras, "and run. Run! I'll see to your mother!"

"No!" Yeneneshe shouted at once, but Nkwe shoved her into Ettoras' arms. "Cover me!" he said to Palesa, and without stopping to argue further, he ran out on the field toward Azrian. Motsumi and Palesa kept shooting fire from their eyes, hitting those creatures that approached Azrian and Nkwe. Nkwe managed to escape the oncoming horde with Azrian hanging lifeless in his arms. "I told you to run!" he bellowed from across the field.

"Go!" Motsumi snapped at Ettoras. "Run, Ettoras! We will protect your mother!"

Yeneneshe looked at Ettoras and realized for the first time that he was frozen with fear, paralyzed with the thought that his mother was dead. Yeneneshe touched his shoulder, and when he looked at her, his eyes were afraid. She took his paw, and with her heart in her throat, she ran as fast as she could, pulling Ettoras along behind her. Ettoras staggered at first and seemed too in shock to move, but eventually, he picked up the pace and kept up with her. They could hear the others screaming behind them. Motsumi shouted in pain, Nkwe screamed Motsumi's name, Palesa shouted angrily. Yeneneshe was too afraid to look back, too afraid to see the others dead and dying, and she knew Ettoras was just as frightened. He was running with tears in his eyes.

"They're coming because of m-me!" Yeneneshe panted. "Ettoras, you have to fly! Pick me up and fl --"

"Yeneneshe! Behind you!" Nkwe roared.

Yeneneshe screamed when a gnarled black claw closed around her tail and yanked her back. She was lifted bodily in the air and kicked her shapely legs when a great paw ripped her coat open and groped her naked breasts. The beast grunted and snarled with delight in her ear, its hot breath steaming her fur, tickling her neck. She twisted and fought with giggling breasts, sobbing and screaming, helpless to the monster's groping as her mane flew wild around her, blinding her. She tried to send out magic but was too frantic and afraid to focus. In the distance, she could hear the others screaming her name. The monster's drool slapped hot on her cheek when it licked her, and then she could feel its double-headed cock pressing hard against her sex and anus, trying to force its way into both places at once. Yeneneshe sobbed and braced herself to be raped, but the monster roared in pain, and she fell hard to the grass.

Yeneneshe lay there, shocked from the impact. The roaring, shouting, and confusion dulled into background noise as the pain throbbed in her head. She opened dazed eyes and realized miserably that her head had hit a rock. She squinted through a sudden flurry of spots and could see feet crunching through the grass around her. Ettoras was roaring and shouting, his wings were flashing, and she realized with a sad smile that he was fighting the monster for her. Ettoras had stopped the monster.

"Yen! Are you alright?"

Someone was squatting over Yeneneshe. She squinted again through the spots and three faces came sharply into focus. It was Nkwe. He was squatting over her, holding out his arms.

"Come on, baby sister," he said with a slow smile she didn't understand. "I'll take care of you."

Relief tingling through her, Yeneneshe crawled with shaking arms into Nkwe's embrace . . . and blacked out.