Bed Chamber

A wise woman

Somewhere between the wedding and the ‘honeymoon’ was the hangover from the excessive drinking and sex. The sailor got up out of the bed and worked his way over to the basin where the fresh water was. From behind him his new bride came to give him a hug.

“Wild night huh” she smiled, sat up and started to braid her hair. Overkill splashed the warm water on his face and beard, rubbing the water in and began to shake his head as he too smiled. “Yea; wild.”

“I didn’t tell you why I have had such hope for you, pirate.” The dwarf raised an eyebrow as he turned around. “Do tell.”

His blonde bride brought her groom back to the warm bed. “While I was captured I kept praying in silence that Isis would deliver my sailor home to me and that Aco would hide me. Sometimes I found that I slipped away from my captor only to get caught again. Over and over it happened and the bond would be tighter but I would receive dreams at night of your success and that you were coming for me.”

Overkill cocked his head and continued to listen.

“Sometimes the dreams were pleasant of just you and me like it is now. While other times it was a constant whisper that Isis, Bennu and Apis were on their way to rescue a girl for a sailor.”

Overkill raised an eyebrow again. “What? No guys?”

“Sometimes the vision is not accurate just what is necessary for comfort.” She touched his face tenderly and then with both hands took his face brought it down and kissed him on the forehead. When their eyes met he still had the eyebrow raised. “Oh Okey, don’t look at me like that. You know as much as I do about the gods and their gifts.”

The sailor looked long into Mary’s emerald eye and smiled. “What else did the gods say? Don’t answer that. I think you should be a priest with all that insight and vision.”

“A sailor and a priest? You’re kidding right? I have never seen that combination. I don’t think that would work. Besides where would I study? Who would I study under?”

Overkill thought of the former King of Bizantium and his bride; he just smiled. “I don’t know; it just might work.”

“You have plans already and besides I am staying here for a while”, the woman chided. “Look at me”, he couldn’t resist her hands were still on his face, “don’t leave me here”, you hear me? Your new orders from your bride are finish your gods work and come pick me up. I am going to see Sinza; you hear me?”

“Yea , yea, I hear ya.”

“I am not kidding, Okey.” She gave him a light slap on the face to make sure that his hazel eyes were on her and not her breasts. “I got it sweetheart”.

His face turned somewhat sad.

“You’re worried about me again aren’t you.”

“I cant help it.”

“Don’t! With the gods on our side”, she hushed her voice to a whisper and kissed him on the mouth, “you will return”.

“How do you know; vision, whisperings of a god?”

“How about woman’s intuition.” She smiled and began to climb back out of the bed to put on her clothes. Her naked skin shimmered in the candles. “Stop ogling Overkill and get dressed. I am certain that = CrIsis doesn’t want to see your naked ass.” He almost jumped her and desperately wanted to drag her back into bed but resisted.
The sailor got out of bed and got dressed; braided his beard. He admired his reflection. The scars had healed nicely. He was comforted by the love of a good woman and the confidence of many gods. He began to put on his trousers then stopped.

“Why do you love me so much Mary?”

“Because silly dwarf, you rough and ferocious in the sack like a pirate but are a gentleman like a sailor too. Your sarcasm makes friends with elves and you overlook your distrust of humans when it’s important. You trust the gods and fight with the fury of ten dragons.”

“How do you know so much about me?”

“Pull your pants up sailor and I’ll just say a little bird told me of what you have done and what you can accomplish. Also you need to trust the priests again. Do it for me, please.”

“But the priests are the reason….”

“NO” she interrupted pointing her finger at her groom. “Trust me; if you can’t a priest. It’s not their fault.” She lowered her hand, “Please.” Her plea was soft again and her expression was soft.

Overkill squinted at the cryptic request. “OK.”

Overkill.
Written by Overkill on the 29th of Majestic the 1st year of King Wilgan.

Picture from Sean Thrasher