LEANORE
By Heck



Copyright "Heck" 2002. All rights reserved.

If you read the 4th Chapter of my last saga, "Mage", you might recall that I
introduced a character called Leanore, who had a brief experience with
the heroine Brenhya. The character was based on a couple of e.mails I
received, suggesting a plot line. I was unable to expand that character much,
but she did suggest to me an idea for a storyline. So I sketched one out, and
this is the result. I could not do better than revamp the above mentioned
chapter by way of a prologue to this tale - I hate to repeat myself, but for
reasons that will become obvious I did enjoy writing the episode, both then and now.

My thanks to those readers who gave me the idea for Leanore; if you like this
saga, it is all my own work - if you don't, it is their fault [heh heh!]

Comments to heck@beadyeye.net

PROLOGUE

THE FINGERED RAYS of the late afternoon sun lanced through the boughs of the
clustered trees along the riverbank, reflecting an upside down world in the
depths and throwing green-dappled light on the water, glinting on the rippling
wavelets. Here and there, drowsy willows dangled lazy fingers in the stream,
and the surface was occasionally disturbed by the darting jewel of a
kingfisher as it knifed into the water, soon to return with tiny, wriggling
prey speared on the dagger of its beak.

On a broad plain that nestled on the river's shoulder, formed by the loop of a
wide meander, a large, domed building sat in the shade of an ancient gnarled
walnut tree. Outside, an anvil stood, a few tools on its steel surface. The
warm glow of a forge could be seen inside, and the ringing sounds of metal on
metal could be heard.

Inside, the glow reflecting from her sweat-soaked body and limning her outline
in red, the blacksmith put the finishing touches to a white hot ingot she had
forged into an expertly crafted plaque.

Her nose was quite broad and her lips were very full, while the tight curls of
her short hair followed the shape of her head like a cap. Her nut- coloured
skin was smooth and clear, and her bright, dark eyes displayed a quick
intelligence. It was an exotic look, despite being smeared with sweat and soot
from the forge, and was very beautiful.

Her name was Leanore, and she had been the blacksmith and farrier to the
nearby village of the Quinqualado, a community of immigrants from a continent
far to the south, for nearly fifteen years. Her age was indeterminate, but an
intelligent guess would be about forty. She was big, very big, but by no means
fat. Her physique was as powerful-looking as one would expect a blacksmith's
to be, and then some.

She paused in her work and looked up at the sound of a voice calling from
outside.

"Hello, in the forge!"

There was a hiss of steam as Leanore plunged the ingot into a bucket of cold
water. She wiped her hands on a rag, and went outside to find a flame- haired
woman leading a magnificent bay mare. Smiling a greeting, Leanore noted from
her garb and the way she carried herself that the stranger was a warrior. She
was exceptionally tall, topping Leanore's six feet by five or six inches. The
smithy quickly took in the great facial beauty and powerful physique of her
visitor, and had to admit to herself that she could not remember if she had
ever seen a woman as lovely.

Although the warrior's background included a broad and diverse ethnic and
racial mix, she had never seen a face quite like Leanore's, and the warrior
was very taken with it. She thought it was very lovely. The smithy smiled as
she approached the traveller, showing small and even white teeth.

The two women were both extremely attractive examples of femininity. The
contrast between Leanore's body and that of the new arrival, however, was
striking.

Where the warrior was tall and athletic, Leanore was blocky and broad. Where
the warrior was muscular and defined, Leanore was smooth and massive. Where
the warrior was agile and flexible, Leanore was a solid block of muscle.

There was something very sexy about the farrier, though. She moved lightly and
with grace, despite her mass, and her small, firm breasts swelled enticingly
under the thin singlet she wore.

The smithy wiped her hands on her leather apron. "Good day", she smiled. "I'm
Leanore. What can I do for you?"

"Hello. My Name's Brenhya. My horse has thrown a shoe".

"Bring her in, then. Although, I have to tell you that I won't just put one
new shoe on. I'll change the whole set. Otherwise, the horse will walk
unevenly, and may pull up lame".

"I was going to ask you to do just that", Brenhya smiled. "Makaar is very
special to me, so she's got to have everything right".

A look of understanding passed between the two women. Both were experts in
their field, and both understood horses in depth.

Farriery was in Brenhya's blood. She watched with a critical eye as Leanore
tended to each foot in turn, expertly trimming the hoof and individually
making and fitting each shoe.

The warrior was also an expert trainer and gymnast, and could see that the
heavier woman was in superb condition, despite the thin layer of fat that
covered her. With a critical eye, she watched as the woman worked, observing
the play of muscle in her thick arms. She handled the horse easily and well,
picking up Makaar's feet with skill and confidence. The horse stood patiently,
in her own way recognising she was in the hands of an expert.

The strength of the woman's fingers was displayed as she removed the old
shoes. She used pliers only to loosen the clenches, but pulled the metal free
with the power of her hands alone. And as she pounded the hot metal, beating
it into a perfect shape for each foot, the heavy hammer looking like a child's
toy in her meaty hand, Brenhya noted the rise and fall of her huge biceps and
the ripple of her heavy forearms. She began to think that this woman might
even challenge her in strength, and the thought was intriguing to her. She
surreptitiously felt her own biceps, a warmth in her groin at the thought.

Brenhya removed her pauldron and swordbelt, and laid her heavy quiver to on
side. She found a wooden bucket and upended it, squatting comfortably as she
watched Leanore work.

"You're obviously not one of the Quinqualado", she said conversationally. "How
do you come to be here?"

Leanore glanced up at the warrior. "I might ask you the same", she smiled.

"I'm just passing through", Brenhya replied.

"Heh! I was, too. Fifteen years ago". The smithy wiped the sweat from her
forehead with the back of a brawny forearm as she moved on to the next foot.
"The Quinqualado are such a happy, friendly people, but they haven't got a
clue about metalwork. I only stopped long enough to help them with some
repairs, and before I knew it, they had built me this forge, and a house, and
I was a permanent resident". She fitted a hot shoe to the foot. Plumes of
smoke and a smell of burning horn rose in clouds around her. "Don't regret it
for a minute, though".

"Where did you come from, originally?"

"Long way away. A country far to the south, even further south than the
Quinqualado, although on the same continent. Took me years to get here. I seem
to have put down roots".

The smithy put down the last foot. The job had been completed with skill and
efficiency, and Brenhya admired the craftsmanship. She said so.

"That's as good a job of shoeing as I've seen since my father", she said.
"Thanks very much. What do I owe you?"

"Four groats. Your father was a farrier?"

"Yes. One of the best. He was starting to teach me the trade, just before he
...passed away. So I can appreciate a job well done. You have an affinity for
the metal and, more importantly, for the horse. I've never seen Makaar so
relaxed while she was being shod".

"Well said", Leanore said, holding out her hand for the money. Brenhya paid
her, and extended her own hand for the other to shake.

The hand that took hers was just as large as her own. It was a little more
meaty, but the warrior could feel a good strength in the firm grasp. She
increased the pressure a little, and was please to feel it returned in equal
measure.

The two women looked at each other, Brenhya caught a twinkle in Leanore's eye.
The farrier squeezed harder. Recognising a challenge when she saw one,
Brenhya's powerful fingers closer even more tightly. Leanore sucked air
through her teeth.

"Strong!", she acknowledged, and tightened her own hand in response.

Brenhya's eyes widened. At this point, she would have expected her opponent to
be suffering pain and sinking to her knees, but the woman was simply smiling
back and giving back as good as she got.

"All right", the warrior whispered. She poured on the power now, the terrific
muscles in her forearms expanding and knotting as her grip constricted even
more.

Now the farrier was showing signs of feeling discomfort. But by this point,
any other persons' hand would have been crushed to an unrecognisable pulp, the
bones splintering and shattering under Brenhya's implacable grip. Leanore, on
the other hand, merely gritted her teeth with a slight grunt, and matched the
warrior's grip, pound for pound.

Brenhya, too, was feeling the pressure of the other's grip. This is getting
nowhere, she thought. The faces of both women were screwed up with
concentration as each threw her full grip strength into the contest. Beads of
sweat were beginning to form on the brows of then both.

Brenhya made a pointed glance at the anvil. Leanore followed her gaze, and
turned to Brenhya, raising an eyebrow. The warrior smiled and nodded.

They crossed to the anvil and knelt at either side. Their eyes met and they
smiled quirky smiles at each other as they placed their elbows.

"Wait", Leanore said. She ran inside the forge and returned with the piece of
sacking, which she placed over the iron surface of the anvil. "We don't want
to skin our elbows for the sake of a bit of fun".

They set their elbows and took their grip. "On your three count", Brenhya
said. Leanore nodded.

"One ...two ...three!"

Two sets of muscles swelled and hardened as the women took up the strain.
Brenhya's bicep expanded and became iron hard, rising to a high peak.
Leanore's was smoother, reflecting her less defined musculature, and less
peaked than the warrior's. But it was slightly larger and equally as hard.
Brenhya's forearm was a lattice of cables and straps of rubbery hard muscle
and sinew; Leanore's was a column of pure power. The tendons stood out in both
women's hands as their grips intensified, and they both threw their full,
incredible strength into the competition.

The evening was quite dark, now. Any one watching, seeing the two figures
limned by the glow of the forge and covered with a fine sheen of sweat, might
have thought they were a sculpture cast in bronze as they knelt motionless,
faces grimacing in a rictus of effort. Tiny grunts escaped them from time to
time, but they were locked in position, neither gaining or losing an inch.

Their eyes locked together, their gazes boring into the other intensely. Both
forearms were of almost equal length, so there was no noticeable leverage
advantage either way. This was a contest of sheer strength between the two
sets of great, rolling female muscles.

The power each was generating was almost unbelievable. The poundage per square
inch that was being developed between their palms was enormous. Their muscles
were reaching a level of contraction, and thus hardness, that neither had
reached previously. Brenhya felt as though her bicep was about to burst right
through her skin. Leanore's muscles were burning as never before. Each woman
was frankly astounded by the strength of the other.

The corner of Brenhya's mouth turned up as she reached forward with her free
hand. Her fingers closed about Leanore's upper arm, and probed the massive
bicep. There was a thin covering on fat that indented slightly under her
thumb, but the muscle beneath was iron hard and pumping with raw power.

With a slight smile, Leanore returned the gesture, her hand closing around the
high peak of the warrior's muscle. She dug her fingers in but, as hard as
steel, the big, round mound gave not at all under her questing digits. She
blew a whistle of admiration through her pursed lips.

Each was performing at her maximum. Leanore had never in her life met a human
individual, of either sex, that had been able to challenge her strength to the
level that Brenhya was taking her. She suspected that the warrior felt the
same. The sweat was running freely down the women's faces now, and they ground
their teeth as they strove against each other.

Nearly ten minutes had passed since they locked arms atop the anvil. Their
arms were shaking with effort, their muscles trembling in protest, and both
were in considerable pain as their overstressed muscles screamed for relief.
Brenhya was growling through the strain, and Leanore was emitting throaty
grunts as she struggled to overcome her opponent.

They were panting heavily, now, as their lungs battled to feed oxygen to their
starving muscles. Every muscle in Leanore's arm, from her rounded deltoid caps
to her thick, sinewy wrist and powerful fingers, was at the limit of its
power, and she began to think she would be held to a stalemate for the first
time in her life.

It was unlikely that it was pure strength that helped the newcomer to prevail.
But years of training and conditioning had given her a stamina that was nearly
abnormal. She could endure and outlast far beyond the usual human capability,
and it was this, she was sure, that enabled her to win this titanic
armwrestling bout.

Gradually [and finally!], Leanore's huge arm began to be forced down, inch by
fraction of inch. But Leanore was not going to give in easily. She battled all
the way, resisting with all her might, and it took close to another five
minutes before the back of her big hand touched the cold metal of the anvil.

Letting out their breath with a whoosh, both women collapsed to hands and
knees, sucking in air hungrily. They panted in unison, splendid chests heaving
in their exhaustion.

"Whoo!", Brenhya gasped. "I thought ...we were going to be there ...forever!"

"Me, too", Leanore agreed, just as breathlessly. "It was ...a relief ...when
you won. Heh! ...Not that I ...was going to ...let you win!"

"I ...noticed. I've had a few ...armwrestling bouts ...in my time. But you
gave me the most ...trouble. You have to be the strongest person I ever met".

"Feeling's mutual. I never met anyone as strong as you". The smithy climbed to
her feet. "In fact, since I grew up, you are the only person I ever met that
was stronger than me".

Brenhya drew herself up, massaging her sore bicep. "I'm not so sure that I
am", she admitted. "I think I just outlasted you".

"Same thing", Leanore said. She had to look up to meet the warrior's eyes, but
not far. "You won fair and square, all the same".

She stepped toward the warrior with arms outstretched, intending a
congratulatory hug. Brenhya smiled as she stepped into the embrace, and
wrapped her arms about the farrier's deep chest.

Leanore's thick arms tighten about Brenhya, and returned the hug with equal
warmth. She gave a throaty chuckle, and tightened her arms even more. Brenhya
returned the pressure, only to find that the smithy's arms contracted about
her ribs still further.

"Oh, so you're not done yet?", Brenhya laughed, as she increased the squeeze
she was applying. "This is getting interesting".

"One of us must be the stronger", Leanore observed. She adjusted her grip,
taking a tight hold on her own wrist. She pulled her fist deep into the small
of Brenhya's back, driving the breath out of her.

"Good one", Brenhya nodded. "She what you can do against this".

A look of amazement passed across Leanore's face, as the warrior tensed the
muscles of her back and belly. Her stomach became a sheet of solid steel, her
back a column of marble. The farrier could make no impression on the granite
hard figure Brenhya had become.

Leanore attempted to do the same and, to her credit, her muscles were as
mighty and hard and solid as any Brenhya had ever felt. But hers did not have
the years of honing Brenhya's had, not recently anyway, nor the degree of
finely tuned muscle control, and as the warrior's stupendous arms slowly
tightened more and more, she felt the air being gradually squeezed from her.

Not to be outdone, though, Leanore poured every ounce of strength she had into
the bear hug. Neither of them were able to speak, by now, but stared intensely
into each other's eyes. Electricity crackled between them; they could not deny
that the close contact, with their two powerful bodies plastered against each
other, hugging each other fiercely, was a powerful stimulus. Sweat trickled
between Leanore's breasts, and another kind of wetness dampened her inner
thighs.

The same sensations were building inside Brenhya as she grunted in response to
the older woman's intensified squeeze. They were way beyond the point where,
in two other people, spines would have cracked and ribs shattered. But the
splendid muscularity, the intense strength, of the two women protected them
from such injuries.

Their faces were very close together, now, and they could feel each other's
shallow breaths on their skin. Though neither relaxed, the bearhug stopped as
they gazed into each other's eyes, holding each other tight in a fierce but
affectionate way, now.

Brenhya's grip eased slightly. Leanore followed suit. "You know where this is
going to lead?", Brenhya asked, a lascivious grin on her face. She let her
lips brush gently against the other woman's.

"I hope so", Leanore smiled. She let the warrior go entirely. "There's a pile
of sacks at the back of the forge".

She took Brenhya's hand and led her further inside the forge, to a deep and
comfortable looking heap of hessian. She moved slowly and sensuously, looking
back at the younger woman with an enticing smile.

Brenhya's eyes drank in the sight of this lovely woman. She was a big, heavy
chunk of muscle, but there was a female sensuality about her that gave the
warrior butterflies.

They stood together at the edge of the sacking bed, two tall, tremendously
strong and muscular women lit by the red glow of the forge fire. Brenhya
slipped her soft leather halter over her head, treating Leanore to the sight
of her magnificent, full breasts riding high on the slabs of muscle that
formed her chest wall. She dropped her short skirt and brief undergarment,
revealing herself in all her naked glory.

Leanore's mouth fell open as she looked upon the sight. Her eyes fed hungrily
on the vision of the tall warrior, very nearly six and a half feet in height.
The long, long muscled legs with their small, elegant joints. The triangle of
tight chestnut curls, and the shapely hips that narrowed into a slender waist.
The belly, with its squares and ridges of muscle that were apparent even when
relaxed, and the spread of the wide shoulders with rounded deltoids and
sloping trapezius muscles, and the long, powerful, and superbly muscular arms
and large, strong hands. The sight made her long for the days whan her own
body followed similar lines.

And to top the column of perfection, Brenhya's beautiful face with its serene
expression, crowned by her glorious mane of luxuriant, dark red hair.

Noting Leanore's expression, Brenhya smiled and raised her arms to display a
pair of teak-hard, peaked biceps, each as big as a big man's fist. She rotated
slowly in place, to display her incredible back, where the great muscles
roiled and coiled under the silky, golden skin. Bringing her arms down to her
sides, she pushed them out straight, so that the inverted vee on the back of
her upper arms was displayed to best advantage.

Although she had done it herself in the past, Leanore had never seen any other
woman demonstrating musculature in this way before, and the impact upon her
was amazing. Her belly tightened at the sight, and she felt a slight wobble in
the back of her knees. Her juices began to flow again, wetting the insides of
her thighs as she struggled to remove her singlet. Out of frustration, she
took the garment in her hands and rent it apart, ripping it from her chest.

The body she displayed was very different from Brenhya's, but just as
impressive in its own way. Lit with the red glow of the forge reflected on her
dark skin, she looked astounding. Heavily muscled and thick, the slope of her
shoulders was so steep that it seemed to begin at her jawline. Her back seemed
to be a yard wide, and the play muscle under the ebony skin fascinated the
warrior. Her arms were thick and heavy with muscle, but when she stripped off
her moleskin pants, Brenhya saw that her legs were huge, like a pair of sturdy
trees. Each of her huge thighs was close to being as thick as Brenhya's waist.

Yet, for all her bulk, she was as graceful and feminine as the other woman.

They faced each other like a couple of jungle animals. Brenhya's lip curled
from her strong white teeth as she emitted a low, rumbling growl. Leanore
gazed hungrily on the majestic warrior, like a tiger sighting its prey.

Brenhya stooped as she closed in on the other, hoisting her from her feet in
her powerful arms. It was like lifting a solid block of muscle. She swung her
round and dropped her into the sacks, standing over her like a towering angel.

Leanore got to her hands and knees, her expression inviting, almost daring,
Brenhya to join her. She did so, and the two knelt facing each other. Leanore
held up her hands, inviting the slightly taller woman to interlock fingers
with her.

Brenhya accepted the invitation, lacing her fingers through the smithy's. They
clenched tightly, and each woman strove to force the other back. Using this as
an excuse, Brenhya raised her arms, and consequently Leanore's, above her
head. This brought their faces close, and Brenhya's mouth clamped hard on
Leanore's. They kissed savagely and deeply, tongues continuing their ongoing
test of strength as they wrestled and strove against beach other.

In the glow of the firelight, Leanore's dark skin was a striking contrast to
Brenhya's golden colour, and the two of them were a picture of feminine beauty
and power.

Leanore sucked hard on Brenhya's tongue. She disengaged the fingers of one
hand and brought it down to Brenhya's splendid breast, squeezing hard and
almost cruelly, sending waves of pleasure throughout the warrior woman's
fantastic body.

Brenhya brought her free hand down to the other woman's hard buttocks,
gripping the hard muscle tightly and letting one finger impose itself in the
cleft. It tickled Leanore's anus, making the heavy woman squirm with delight.

They released their other hands, now, and placed them on each other's broad
back, crushing themselves together as they fell over among the sacks. The two
immensely powerful bodies strove against each other, rock hard muscles rubbing
and sliding together, lubricated by a film of sweat.

Their hands ran up and down their bodies eagerly, each aware that this was
another woman of similar strength. If either had the edge, it was only just,
and neither had to hold back out of fear of hurting the other. Fingers poked
and delved into crevasses and private places, exploring the warm and secret
parts. Hands squeezed and stroked, unafraid to exert pressure at full power.

They rolled over. Brenhya was on top, now, and pinned Leanore's hands. She
bent her head, and kissed Leanore's face. Her tongue licked fiercely at the
strong column of Leanore's throat, tasting the salty sweat, and lapped slowly
across the massive chest.

Leanore's breasts were on the small side, but beautifully formed, firm and
needing no support. Brenhya's mouth found the hard nipples, sucking and
playing with the prominent bud. Her tongue ran around the aureole and flicked
at the cherry sized tip.

Moaning with pleasure, Leanore ground her hips against Brenhya's belly,
lifting the warrior clear of the sacks. Brenhya enfolded one of Leanore's
great thighs between hers, and squeezed hard. She was delighted to feel the
limb flex and harden in her embrace, and rubbed her moist pudenda up and down
the solid, arching muscle.

Leanore pushed up against Brenhya's hands, managing to raise them a few inches
before the warrior released them. She took hold of Brenhya's hips and raised
her from her, sliding down in the sacks until her head was between Brenhya's
thighs. Her hands found the twin, hard globes of Brenhya's buttocks, kneading
the firm flesh in her fingers and pulling herself up to reach the sweet lips
of her vulva. Brenhya raised up on her knees, and lowered herself on to
Leanore's face. Leanore's hands clamped over Brenhya's thighs, nuzzling her
face deeper into the woman's groin. She licked and nuzzled into the vaginal
cleft, lapping and nibbling at the hard bud of her clitoris and probing deep
inside the hot, wet tunnel.

Brenhya threw her head back and arched her back, reaching behind to support
herself on Leanore's raised knees. A word escaped her lips as the wonderful
feeling flooded through her.

"Yesss!"

Leanore ran her strong tongue around Brenhya's labia, inside the soft lips of
her vulva, before concentrating on the clitoris once more. Brenhya felt her
orgasm rising inside her, and clamped down tight to prevent it. It was too
soon.

She lifted herself clear of Leanore's face, not without difficulty as the
smithy's hands were still tight about her thighs. She bent down to kiss the
woman's mouth, which was still wet and she could taste her own juices which,
contrarily, stimulated her even more. She turned around to straddle Leanore's
chest, and lowered her head between the farrier's massive thighs. She sniffed
deeply, inhaling the strong woman smell, and flicked her tongue across the
dark vaginal lips.

Leanore spasmed at the intimate contact. She reached her arms around Brenhya's
muscular waist, and hauled herself up to reach the warrior's vagina,
reinserting her tongue into the moist warmth.

Brenhya let herself slowly collapse atop the smithy, confident that her weight
would be no burden to the splendidly powerful body beneath her. She burrowed
her face deep into the woman's crotch, lapping fiercely and savouring the
salty sweetness as her arms clamped tightly around the thick, hard thighs.

Their lovemaking became as much a test of strength as an exercise in ecstasy,
as their arms tightened about each other as two pairs of hips ground against
two faces. Neither needed nor wanted to hold back, and each put her own full
energy into the act. Their sex was wild, strenuous, and almost violent in its
intensity.

Their tongues probed harder, deeper, and faster, moving in perfect
synchronicity, now. The urgency had come upon them both at the same time, and
they were striving towards a mutual climax. Their hips thrust automatically as
they became carried away on the mounting wave, and they gave muffled groans,
faces still buried in the opposite groin.

Finally, and at last, Brenhya's body began to spasm as the waves of orgasm
engulfed her. She held on tight as Leanore's body was also wracked with
ecstasy, bucking and writhing in Brenhya's grasp. Their mouths were filled
with the flowing love juices of the other woman. Brenhya's throaty growl
swelled into a full throated roar, and Leanore screamed in delight as the
feeling built and built, growing to a height of climax that was truly
stupendous, until the pair went rigid in each other's arms as the dual orgasm
washed through them both, spasming so much that they rolled off the pile of
sacks to end up on the flagged floor of the smithy's workshop. Leanore ended
up on top.

It seemed to go on and on endlessly, magnificent bodies straining against each
other with a power that might have killed any other two women. But eventually,
the feeling subsided into the tiny, popping little climaxes that made them
twitch and jerk, moaning in final release.

When it was all over, they lay inert, still head to foot, panting heavily and
drenched in sweat. Brenhya felt drained by the experience, but the weight of
the heavier woman on top of her was warm and comfortable, and she was a little
disappointed when Leanore rolled off her to lie spread-eagled on the warm
flags.

"Wow!", they both breathed in unison.

They looked at each other and gave short laughs.

"That was incredible!", Leanore gasped. Brenhya could only nod in agreement.

By unspoken consent, the two women got to their knees and crawled onto the
sacking pile, where they collapsed in each other's arms and fell instantly
asleep.

*

Leanore was awakened the next morning by Brenhya, rolling the sleeping smithy
off her arm. She dragged herself out of the sacks, and was a little surprised
to find that she was stiff and sore, and bruised in one or two places. But
then, considering the intensity of the love making she and Brenhya had
indulged in the previous night, perhaps her surprise was misplaced.

She went outside, where she found her visitor bent over the pump, working the
lever with one hand and splashing the ice cold water over her head and neck
with the other. Leanore stepped up behind her, encircled her waist with her
powerful arms, and hugged strongly,

"Good morning", Leanore said, laying her head against Brenhya's wide back.
"Hungry?"

"Starved", Brenhya admitted. She looked around for something to dry herself
on. Leanore handed her a square of clean sacking.

They breakfasted on fresh bread and strong cheese, smiling at each other over
a trestle table that Leanore had erected outside in the morning sun. "You'll
be on your way, soon, I expect?" Leanore already knew the answer to her
question, but asked anyway, in the hope the tall warrior might be tempted to
stay a while.

"Mm", Brenhya said round a mouthful of delicious cheese. She would have liked
to stay, but her journey beckoned her. "I have to leave almost straight away".
She reached across the table and took Leanore's meaty hand in hers. "But I
will come back one day. Trust me".

An hour later, Brenhya swung her leg across Makaar's back and settled herself.
The women had hugged and enjoyed a prolonged kiss earlier, but the warrior
leaned down to give Leanore a last kiss before leaving.

Without another word, she touched her heels to the mare's glossy flanks and
rode away without a backward glance. Leanore watched her go wistfully.
Something told her that she would meet this magnificent warrior woman again.

She stood watching for a long time after Brenhya was out of sight, letting her
mind drift through the events of last night. Her encounter with the beautiful
warrior would live in her memory forever, not only because of the passion and
intensity of their lovemaking, but because it brought back memories of her own
earlier life.

Memories that were bitter-sweet.