Coming Together: Special Hurricane Relief Edition (30 page)

"Linus,"
I said, "this is the Lady Melna of Rorus. I would like you to
seek out a tarn for her, at my expense."

Linus
nodded, surprised, regarding Lady Melna. "Do not doubt her
courage, Linus," I said. "A tarn of strength and vigour."

"You
plan to teach Lady Melna the tarn, Captain?"

"I
do." Unusual, yes, but not completely unknown. Barus's gold
would pay for it.

"Perhaps
one a little smaller than your own, Captain?" said Linus with a
glance at my own sable monster.

"Aye,"
I said, laughing. "Perhaps smaller."

"By
tomorrow, Captain," said Linus.

"My
thanks, Linus," said Lady Melna.

"My
Lady."

I
led Lady Melna to my own chambers, for I had remembered the note from
Lady Allina. Behind my closed door, as Lady Melna explored my
quarters, I opened it.

To
the noble Captain Han Lero of Ko-Ro-Ba, it said, Greetings.

Firstly,
dear Captain, my thanks again for your action in rescuing myself and
my cousin, Lady Melna. Without the brave actions of both yourself and
my lieutenant, Tullius, Lady Melna and myself would now be enslaved.
I wish you therefore to accept my gift, one half of the purse which
Claudius Flavius has given to you.

Why
only one half? I believe my cousin to have found herself in love with
you. She is resourceful and I believe she will also have found some
way to accompany you. This being so, there are two courses of action
open to her. One is for her to have you accept her as Free Companion.
As a guard Captain, this may not be possible for you. Her other
choice is to submit herself your slave. The other half of this purse
is for her. If she is now your Free Companion, it is hers, by wish of
my late father, free and clear, title undisputed. If she is now your
slave, it is yours. Look after her, because I love my cousin.

Lady
Allina, of Rorus.

I
looked at the parchment, smiling. Melna came back from exploring my
quarters. "You are right, Han, we need something bigger, lovely
as your couch looks. May we try it soon?" Her smile faded as she
saw the parchment in my hand. "What is it, my love?"

I
smiled. "Read it." She read the parchment, looked at me,
and read it again.

"A
good incentive to enslave me again," she said solemnly.

I
shook my head, and threw her Lady Allina's gift. She caught it and
stared at me, feeling its weight. "Half of that is yours,"
I said. "I propose we use the other half in setting up our own
holding." I took her hand and squeezed it. "Shall we go and
find my father, make the first steps towards our Companionship?"
I gave her a rueful look. "By now, he knows we are here."

She
smiled. "First, I think I need some robes of my own, at least
until I can retrieve those of mine from Rorus. I know your father to
be a kind and gentle man, but to greet him in such a situation in
these borrowed rags is perhaps not a good idea." She made a
rueful face. "If we do not appear, I have little doubt that he
will know what we do."

I
laughed. "You are to be my Companion, not my father's."

"Aye,"
she said, "and I will not shame you."

"Never
that," I said. "I shall send out for robes of concealment
for you."

She
smiled, and, holding my eye, began to unfasten her gown. "The
time for robes is later, Master. Your bedchamber awaits. Are you
first going to carry your slave over its threshold and conquer her
anew?"

"Be
silent, slave, and remove your clothing more quickly."

"Yes,
Master." She smiled again, a knowing, lovingly lecherous, smile.
"I knew my choice not to wear undergarments was wise."

~
~ ~ ~

Grande
Dame

©
Boo Merengue

The
tide is ebbing now

pulling
back Her power

after
300 years of giving

now
She's taking back

reminding
us

that
She is owner here

that
all the death, and loss,

are
but a small tribute

for
the gift

of
a city on a crescent

emblem
of Luna,

Goddess
of the moon

and
Her power.

A
jewel of a city

who's
diversity

and
strength

who's
dignity

and
culture

will
rebuild, and grow

and
become once again

The
Grande Dame of The South.

~
~ ~ ~

A
Break in the Storm

©
Pat Daniels

"Finally,"
Pat said to himself as he looked out his window. His neighborhood had
had a massive thunderstorm front come through over the last two days,
with more expected throughout the rest of the afternoon and evening.
He'd been on edge through the downpour. He felt frenzied from the
continuous rain and wind of the last few days. Stormy weather tended
to do that to him. Usually, in this part of town, he'd be sitting in
either candlelight or the dark, trying to work through the aroused
feelings within him with paper and pen.

Luckily
this time, they'd not loss power, and Pat was able to spend the time
with more than just his writing. Internet chatting interspersed with
playing video games and watching porn tapes did wonders for relieving
frustration. Although, and he was probably treading on blasphemous
grounds if his friends knew, he was thinking there's only so many
times you can watch porn in a day. Even the so-called "good
stuff."

But
a vague silence had woken him from a nap, and he'd gone to the front
of the condo to have a look. The storm had abated for now. Mostly.
The wind was howling and whipping bits of debris through the air and
along the surface of the water in the street out front. The
mini-creek that now flowed past the edge of the parked cars didn't
seem too deep, but he knew he shouldn't take it for granted. A
television show on PBS just that afternoon had said it only took six
inches of flowing water to knock a man off his feet.

While
it seemed unlikely to Pat, he pulled on his fly-fishing waders and
went outside. In the short time it had taken him to get ready, the
water had risen noticeably. He eased his way out past his most likely
waterlogged Corvette, and stepped cautiously into the street proper.
It was, indeed, deeper than it had looked from his apartment. And the
rain, naturally, returned while he was standing there.

Pat
slogged through the churning waters growing ever higher along his
street. If he hadn't been expecting really important mail, he'd
probably have let it wait until later. The storm drains were
overwhelmed, however, and if he took too long the whole mail box
would be swept away like all the little bits of debris, children's
toys, and unlocked bicycles he could already spot floating by. "Well,
that might be stretching it," he muttered to himself. "But,
better safe than sorry," he told himself as he got out his key
and opened his compartment on the mailbox.

"Mmmm,"
he said as he took in a deep breath. His skin tingled as the
rainwater fell on it. He grabbed the half a dozen letters in his box
and stuffed them inside the many layers of shirts and light jackets
he'd thrown on. As he turned to go, he spotted a figure in bright
yellow waving at him.

Valerie
Starr was a neighbor from across the breezeway. Pat had spoken with
her in passing, perhaps a couple of words now and then at one of the
tenant meetings or a monthly get-together at the clubhouse, but he'd
not say they were friends. For one thing, Ben Starr was one of those
mountainous men that wanted to lord over all they could get away with
lording over, and didn't take kindly to people being too friendly
with Valerie. Pat never quite understood that attitude. He
particularly didn't understand it when it came to someone like
Valerie.

She
always seemed really nice, and was pleasant to look at too. But she
had never struck Pat as the kind of woman that men like Ben needed to
worry themselves over. She always had a smile for everyone, but
wasn't any sort of a flirt that Pat had ever heard about. And she
didn't even flaunt how she looked.

Valerie
was not quite a foot shorter than Pat. She always seemed to be
dressed to hide her shape, which he'd thought was just one of those
things some females did...he knew his sisters tended to when they
felt they weren't quite fit or shapely enough. But the last several
weeks, despite her wardrobe, Pat was sure Valerie had been losing
weight, and supported his theory with the fact that he'd been seeing
her beginning to wear more flattering clothes.

More
flattering pants and skirts, he mentally amended the thought. She
still had a tendency towards sweaters and other bulky tops. Pat
suspected she was losing weight and getting back the shape of someone
who hadn't had three kids, but was still top heavy and not over the
embarrassment that sometimes came with having such a full rack. But
he thought Valerie was pretty cute...little bob of a haircut,
librarian glasses...and she had a really killer smile.

Today,
however, she was more hot than cute. She'd come out in what appeared
to be just an ordinary shirt, than Pat realized how long it was and
realized it was a sleep shirt. Over it, Valerie had thrown a simple
windbreaker, and was just wearing ankle booties and slippers. It was
the least dressed Pat had ever seen her, and Valerie seemed a little
out of it. It wasn't anything specific Pat could put a name to or
point a finger at. She just looked sort of off, like she wasn't quite
herself.

Valerie
seemed to be calling at him, but the wind had sprung back up and,
even at the short distance back to the dry areas by the condo unit,
it disrupted her words. "D'oh," muttered Pat. He motioned
to her mailbox. She nodded. Pat mimed unlocking the door and
retrieving whatever was inside, then turned back to Valerie and gave
her and open armed, palms up, shrug.

She
nodded and looked around. Valerie held up a finger, and slipped back
into the shadows of her apartment's entry hall for a moment. When she
came back out, she had a baseball in one hand. In her other hand, she
held a roll of duct tape. She set the ball carefully on the lip of a
hanging plant, and tore off a strip of tape. Making sure Pat was
watching, Valerie held up a key, then wrapped the tape about the key
and ball. She tossed it lightly up and down on her right palm.

Pat
laughed and cracked his knuckles. "Go on!" he shouted, not
sure if she could hear him any better then he'd heard her. Then he
got into a receiving stance.

Valerie
wound up and threw the ball towards Pat. He reached for it, and shook
his face with a slight sputter as it splashed right before him. He
scooped it up and took the key from about it. With the key, he
retrieved a large bundle of things from Valerie's mailbox, and began
trudging back to her with it firmly lodged next to his own letters.

"Thanks,
Pat. You're a lifesaver. Really, you are." Valerie practically
gushed when Pat made it into the dry areas with the mail. "It's
probably nothing that couldn't have waited until later on, but it's
something different, right?"

She
turned away and beckoned him with head and shoulder. "Come in
and let's see what kind of junk mail we got. I've been closed away
inside since the storm began, and wanted to take advantage of the
break in the storm...but now it's raining again." She sighed,
and Pat thought he noticed a slight shudder pass through her body.

"Oh
well... thanks again, you want to come in for some nice hot coffee?
Haven't been doing much except type on the computer and work at
cleaning up the house, I know I could use some real life company."

Pat
considered the offer for a moment. He couldn't recall the last time
he'd heard Valerie say so many words to anyone, let along to him.
And, while his first thoughts had been that he really wanted to find
some dry clothes and that hot coffee wasn't what he'd like to come in
for, he nodded and said it'd be great. "Follow me then,"
Valerie said as she turned to go back inside.

The
little spin as she'd turned had flipped up the edge of her
windbreaker, letting Pat see how tight and skimpy the sleep shirt
really was. Valerie bent just slightly to drop the baseball back by
the door where she'd picked it up, and the very base of her ass
cheeks were briefly revealed to Pat. "Mmm," he murmured
without realizing he was doing so and Valerie turned to glance over
her shoulder at him.