The Faceless Goddess

The Faceless Goddess

"Four against one? That doesn't seem fair!" A voice rang out across the forest clearing. The sun Helion was at its height, beating down upon the forest canopy and scattering its fierce light across the massive tree trunks and deep green foliage. Vines loaded with white, crimson, and orange flowers hung from the branches, and microraptors with blue and green feathers clung to the trunks or scuttled along the branches. Snakes slithered through the leaf litter and dragonflies with wings the length of a man's arm buzzed through the air.

The speaker was a woman. She was human, but of a race that had gone some distance away from the baseline form. Her skin was dusky tan in color and her black hair was cut short and tied back with a red cloth. Her body was muscular, and though seated she was clearly tall. She wore short boots, leather leggings and a halter top that covered her small breasts. Her face and arms were covered with scars and small geometric tattoos, and a thin line of black fur ran down her back almost to her hips. Her face was broad, with sensual lips and a stubby, slightly crooked nose. Her violet eyes blazed as she surveyed the scene. She sat astride a gray scaled, yellow eyed shorthorn, a beast that in another place and time might have been called a chasmosaur. In one hand she held a lance, a heavy spear topped with a long wavy blade. A small composite bow and a quiver of arrows hung from the saddle.

If the woman seemed one example of the deviations of the human form on the world of Telluria, the men who stood in the clearing were other examples. Four were of a race that seemed to have regressed to some more bestial form. Thick brown hair covered their powerful, squat bodies. They wore no clothing and carried only simple wooden clubs. Their jaws were massive and huge fangs stuck out of their mouths when closed. Back-curved horns grew from their heads. Between their legs swung male organs of impressive size. Their eyes were a clear, icy blue.

A fifth man of the same type was thrashing on the ground in the last stages of death. A broken spear pinned him to the dirt, and he was dying in silence, unassisted and ignored by his comrades, whose attention was solely on the fifth living man in the clearing.

This man was of yet another type. He was tall and lean, the others coming barely to his chest. His body was covered with short tawny fur, patterned with black stripes. He wore a simple loincloth, a necklace of black stones around his neck, and a belt holding a small knife. His hair was a mass of tangled locks that rose above his head and fell down to the middle of his back. In one hand he held the broken haft of a spear. His face was strong and regular, with piercing green eyes and a powerful jaw. His teeth were bared, showing needle-sharp fangs.

For a moment the tableau held. The shorthorn snorted and pawed at the dirt. One of the beastmen turned to the woman and spoke, enunciating the words with difficulty past his fangs.

"Yes, not fair. We kill. Stay, and we will enjoy you later."

The beast men studied the woman, their eyes burning with lust. She returned their gazes calmly.

"You should leave." said the striped man.

"Would you like to come with me?" asked the woman.

"I would like to, but I fear that would put you in danger. I'm the one they want."

"Don't worry about me."

The beastman who had spoken grunted a command and two of his cohorts moved towards the woman. The other two closed in on the striped man, hefting their clubs.

The woman kicked the shorthorn and it lunged forward with surprising speed. As the beastmen scrambled out of the way, distracted, the woman stood in the foot-rests, whirled her lance and drove the wavy blade through the chest of the foremost beastman, piercing his heart and slaying him instantly. She yanked the weapon free with both hands as the shorthorn whirled, menacing the other beastman with its horns.

The striped man leaped forward suddenly, striking with his broken spear shaft and driving the beastmen facing him back. One of these, the one who had spoken, suddenly turned and jumped at the woman, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her off the shorthorn to the ground. He rolled on top of her and lunged at her throat with his fangs. In this close grapple her lance was useless and she dropped it. She wedged an elbow under his jaw, blocking his bite, and with a twist freed her other arm to buffet him on the side of the head. His grip slackened and she was able to draw her dagger and drive it up under his ribs.

The beastman howled in pain then choked in blood as she rolled clear. The shorthorn's tail whipped over her head, stunning the third beastman. As he fell to the ground the striped man sprang on him, striking him again and again with the spear shaft until it broke, then stooping over him and driving his knife into the beastman's throat. Blood sprayed across the striped man's fur.

The woman snatched up her lance and turned to face the remaining beastman, but that one had had enough. He turned and fled. The woman took three quick steps and hurled the heavy lance like a javelin, grunting with the effort. The blade struck the fleeing beastman in the back and he fell. The woman ran up to him as he thrashed in agony in the dirt of the forest floor. She put a foot on his back, yanking out the lance, and then drove it again and again into his body until he stopped moving. She turned back, breathing heavily, and met the yellow eye of the shorthorn.

The beast turned placidly back, pausing to clip up a fern with its beak and masticate it. The small creatures of the forest that had frozen at the explosion of violence now started moving again.

The beastman that had spoken was still alive, breathing heavily. He started crawling backwards, dragging himself with his arms as the striped man approached. The striped man stood over him.

"Where is Uquilla? The woman of my kind. You took her. Three days ago. Tell me and I spare your life."

The beastman laughed, spitting out blood. "I am dead already. Know that I die hating you." He slumped to the ground. The striped man stepped back, then turned to the woman. His green eyes met her violet ones as he noted with surprise that she was as tall as him.

"Thank you for aiding me, town woman. I am Moruil, son of Lenyon."

"Don't worry about it." said the woman. "My name is Telan." She leaned on her lance and looked around. "Are there more of those things around here?"

"Probably. They have moved into the area of our tribe recently, in the last few months. Previously there was nothing like them around here. They kill men and carry off women and children to their lair in the old stone city."

The woman looked at him, her eyes widening. "Do you know where that old stone city is?"

"Yes, and I would like to go there. They carried off Uquilla, a friend of mine. That is probably where she is, if she still lives. I was going there, when these found me. Their horns or teeth would make good trophies, if we had time."

"Let's mount Greyscale there and be on our way then. I also seek that stone city, but don't know exactly where it is. How far is it from here?"

"See, here is the great river to the west, and the small river to the east, and the city where they come together." As he spoke he crouched and his finger traced a shape like a letter Y on the leaf litter that covered the forest floor. She noticed that he had retractable claws, rather than her nails. "If we went to the city directly, the beast men would see us coming. We should go north. There is a ford here." His finger traced a line on ground, some way up the smaller eastern river. "Then we travel south, when we are across the river. The beast men keep watch to the south, but I think they don't watch the north. That is the way I was going, but I ran into those we slew. If we travel fast we should reach the ford by dusk. Then the city is another morning's travel to the south."

"Let's go then. You can show me the way."

Telan wiped most of the blood off her clothes and body with a clutch of leaves, while Moruil retrieved the bladed half of his spear and cleaned himself. She then vaulted into the saddle and held out her hand. Moruil took it and was surprised by her strength as she pulled him up behind her. The shorthorn tossed its head at the unfamiliar feeling of two riders and Telan soothed it, then kicked it into motion in the direction Moruil indicated.

The saddle of the shorthorn was smooth and had no places to grip. Rather than stirrups Telan rested her feet on footrests that projected from the side of the saddle and knelt with her legs spread wide. It was an uncomfortable position for someone not used to it. She laughed at Moruil's discomfort.

"Sit closer to me. Tuck your spear under the strap there." She gestured to a place behind the saddle where a blanket, waterskin, and satchel were lashed down. "Put your hands on my hips for balance, and hold on with your legs. Sit lower." She smiled as she felt his strong, warm body press against hers and patted his hand that rested on the bare skin of her side above her leggings. She let her hand rest on his and leaned back a little.

"You are no town woman." Moruil said after a while, studying the scars on her back. "You fight as well as a man. Where are you from?"

"It's far away. It's called Monegral. It's a barren, mountainous wasteland. I left when I was young."

"Why do you seek the stone city?"

Telan paused. "Kobylis is its name, or was. I heard that many years ago bandits used the city as a base, to raid caravans traveling on the road to Faros. I drank wine with an old whore in Faros who had once run with a gang of bandits. She told me where they had hidden their treasure. She had stolen some and fled, and shortly afterwards the bandits ceased their raids and have not been heard of since. From talking with merchants I gathered that much of the jewelry the bandits stole has not been seen for sale. So I think some of it must still be there."

"Why did this whore not go back and get it? Or others?"

"Some have tried. But they say the land around the city is inhabited by furred, striped savages that kill any town people who go there." She squeezed his hand.

"That is true.. my people do not like the town men, although sometimes we trade with them. But the stone city is holy ground, none may go there."

"Are you going to kill me?" She leaned back into him and looked up at his face, smiling.

"No. I owe you my life. But the others of my tribe... some of us young men want to go to the city and fight the beastmen, but the old men say that the city is taboo, and we must not go there. I am going there to rescue Uquilla, and I will not let the old men stop me."

"You must really care about her."

"Yes."

There was a pause. The shorthorn walked steadily through the forest. A dragonfly with a wingspan as long as Telan's arm flew parallel to them for a while, then flew off.

"The town men are always after gold. Why do they want it so much?"

The woman laughed. "Without gold in a town you are nothing! You must have it! In a tribe, what matters is your reputation, your family, your clan. None of that matters in the town. I must have gold. And it is hard to get gold, men work all their lives and end up with nothing. I know no trade to make money, other than killing, and I cannot do that all my life. When I am old and toothless, I don't want to starve in the gutter. I want a nice house, with slaves to look after me, and a fine song raptor to sing me to sleep."

"That is a good reason. If after I rescue Uquilla, the tribe will not take us back, we will have to go to the town. But I think they will take us back. I am the chief's son."

As the sun was sinking they came to a small river, about 10 fathoms wide.

"We cross here. Across the river is the taboo country. We cannot go much farther before night falls. If we cross and make camp, no men would molest us. The beastmen might, if they find us. I have waded across at this place."

"I thought you said this was taboo country?"

"I have gone there. I have seen the city, but did not enter it. I felt that it was best not to taunt the gods too much."

"You're a man after my own heart, Moruil. If someone tells you not to do a thing, you do it! How far is it from here to the city?"

"If we leave tomorrow at dawn from here, we should reach it by noon tomorrow."

Telan dismounted and led the shorthorn down the bluff to the riverbank. Then she stripped and took her gear and the saddle off the shorthorn. She noticed Moruil staring at her.

"Have you never seen a woman before?"

"None of your race. Not with so many scars. None of the warriors of my tribe have so many scars. How many men have you killed?"

"Many."

Telan led the shorthorn across the river, holding her lance in one hand. The water was cool and came up to her chest. She ducked her head under, washing the beastman's blood from her face and hair. She tethered the shorthorn on the far side and went back for the gear. Moruil also stripped off his loincloth and belt, and washed the blood off his fur. She admired his lean, muscular body and impressive manhood. She noted with interest that instead of the black bush she had expected, the fur around his sex grew thicker and longer than elsewhere on his body, but was otherwise the same color and texture.

"Have you never seen a man before?"

Telan smiled at him. "Not one like you."

After carrying the gear across Telan dried herself with a blanket and dressed. Moruil merely shook himself down and redonned his loincloth and belt, making sure however that his knife had stayed dry.

The quick night of Telluria was coming on and the rings were shining white in the dark blue sky. The moons were not yet up. The ground on this side was lower and covered with high reeds that stood above Moruil's head.

They traveled some distance away from the river, and found a spot where a creek flowed into the river. A little distance south of the creek was a forested rise, and on the rise was a small stone building. In the north and west dark clouds were gathering.

Telan pointed "What is that?"

"I don't know. It is taboo, I have never gone inside."

"It seems like it could be a dry place to spend the night."

"We should not light a fire tonight. The beastmen may be abroad. Or other things."

Telan tethered the shorthorn loosely in the grove, where it started munching contentedly on the foliage. The stone building was really a small shrine, scarcely a fathom deep. The front was open. Inside the shrine on a small platform was a life-size statue of a nude woman, standing and holding a double-handled jar in one hand. The workmanship of the statue was as good as any that Telan had seen. The face of the statue had been smashed off, and debris and bones littered the floor. Telan swept most of the rubbish out with her feet, looking at the dark clouds that were covering the stars.

"It will rain soon, I think. Let's sleep in here, she won't mind. Do you know what goddess this is?"

"No. My people don't worship statues. Maybe it was built by those who built the city."

There was room for them to put the gear in the shrine and spread out a blanket beneath the statue. They sat with their backs to the statue watching the clouds blot out the stars and Telluria's rings. Telan shared some dried fruit and jerky with Moruil. She pressed up close to him, feeling the warmth of his body through the slight dampness of his fur.

Fur was rare on Telluria. She stroked him from his shoulder, down his chest, across his small dark nipples, and his belly, down to his muscular thigh. He put his arm around her and rested his hand on her hip. She shuddered slightly at his touch.

Lightning flashed and they waited for the thunder. After it came there was a brush of cold air. Telan spoke.

"Killing today.. and a storm." She turned to Moruil, but he moved faster. Grabbing her hair with his left hand he pulled her head back, then leaned over her, opening his jaws wide, and placed his needle sharp fangs against her throat. She froze. Her hand was trapped between his legs, touching his loincloth, and she could feel his hard cock through the thin leather.

She met his eyes. He pulled back, still holding her hair, and licked the tiny drops of blood from her throat where his teeth had touched. She whimpered in excitement, then reached up her free hand and sank it into his hair, pulling his face towards her for a kiss. She teased his tongue with hers.

Moruil sat back and slipped out of his loincloth. His erect cock swung free. Telan grabbed it and played with it, running her fingers along the shaft and feeling the hot head. Moruil started yanking on her leggings, and she playfully pushed his hands aside.

"Slow down, boy." He growled and snapped at her again, teasing her neck and shoulders with his fangs. She slipped off her halter and pulled his head towards her small, firm breasts. He started sucking on her left nipple, and she took advantage of this distraction to unlace her leggings and pull them off.

When he pulled back to catch his breath, she grabbed his hair and pulled his face down towards the black bush that hid her sex. Lightning flashed again followed immediately by thunder, and then a downpour of rain against the tiled roof of the shrine.

Moruil seemed uncertain and so she guided him, spreading her labia with her fingers and encouraging him to lick her. She moaned and squirmed as he tentatively tasted her and he licked more aggressively. She kept one hand locked in his hair, holding his head down, while she used the other to stroke his face and show him where to lick and suck. When he reached her clit she screamed and bucked, and he pressed down, pleasuring her until she was almost at the brink. Then she pulled his head back.

"Now!"

Her bared teeth and the whites of her eyes shone in the dark as she spread her legs as wide as she could and guided his stiff cock into her. He thrust in hard and she came at once, her body spasming as he thrust against her again and again until he came.

They lay tangled together, breathing hard. Telan kissed him, tasting herself on his lips.

"Now you've got something to show your girl after you rescue her, hmm? Make her scream?"

"Telan, I..."

She patted his face. "Thanks, big boy. Now bedtime, we've got a big day tomorrow."

He rolled off her and they lay cuddled on the blanket. The rain stopped and the only sounds were the river and water dripping from the roof. Telan fell asleep.

***

Telan awoke. She was lying on her back and there was a weight on her chest. The rings of Telluria cast a dim white light through the door of the shrine, showing a woman sitting on Telan's chest. The woman was small but her weight was crushing, pinning Telan to the ground. Telan's eyes traveled up from the woman's thighs, her slim waist, her full, proud breasts, to her face, which was a ruin of smashed stone, like the face of the statue in the shrine.

Telan reached up and grabbed at the woman's, or goddess's, hips, touching soft, warm flesh. She tried to cry out but somehow found she could not speak. She turned to Moruil. He was sleeping, breathing deeply.

Emboldened Telan reached up and gently touched the ruined face. The goddess jerked back slightly, but then let her touch it. Telan felt soft flesh and bone beneath. She gasped. She slid her hand down and rested it on the ample breast of the goddess. Gently she began to caress the dark nipple, feeling it stiffen.

The goddess made no sound and her body did not appear to be breathing, though Telan could feel the warmth of her flesh and the beat of her heart in her chest. She rose up slightly, arching her back as Telan continued to play with her breast. Telan brought up her other hand and placed it on the goddess's hairless sex. Gently she began to stroke it. The goddess thrust her hips forward and Telan slid her fingers in deeper, feeling warmth and wetness.