A Tale of Luc (Part. 2) by William Quinn

(2 ratings) Rate this Story (5 best) 1 2 3 4 5

SUMMARY: This is the 2nd Part to a larger Work that I'm trying to finish. It revolves around 2 young men that ran away from home and have been making their way in the real world since.

Luc let out a wordless screech. The make was that of a crossbow bolt, not an arrow, and it was protruding from his left buttock. "Oh dear God," he squeezed out between clenched teeth. "How the fuck..." he looked past the pixie over his shoulder.
Riding out of the yellow cloud behind them was a man holding a cloth over his face in one hand and a discharged crossbow in the other. "That'll teach you to deflower my betrothed! Thieving piece of dog-shit! I'm Reginald Montigo, and I'm going to have your worthless pecker in a jar before dawn!"
"I sure hope you have a big jar friend!" Luc called over his shoulder, the pain from the crossbow bolt making his voice slightly hoarse. He then turned back to the distressed glowing ball of light and tuned out the stream of curses behind him. "Any ideas? You know how much I abhor killing." Luc hissed through his teeth.
The pixie shook its head slowly, "My first idea would be not to taunt people who are intent on your demise, although I may be repeating myself. That man seems...how would you put this? Ah, 'Quite pissed,' I believe." Reaching out to clutch at Luc's shirt, the pixie took a look at the shaft embedded in Luc's rear end. "I would also consider myself very lucky were I you. Had you been sitting instead of leaned over in the saddle, you would be pissing blood and in need of a new kidney."
Luc grunted. Then he let out a sigh, thinking for a moment, "I suppose I could try to reason with the man." He cocked his ear, only to hear the foul litany of curses spewing forth like a fountain from the man behind him. Whether the language was from outright rage, or the struggle to keep his heaving wheezing horse under control, Luc couldn't tell. "Although I think he might not be too open to that right now."
"...disease infested crust from a whore's cunt! I'll kill you slowly! I'll smash your balls with a hammer!" The cloth blocking the dust in the man's hand had disappeared. He was now trying to carefully place and wind back another bolt in his crossbow. Montigo's continuous stream halted momentarily while his concentration was shifted. Luc took the break as a fortuitous sign for him to speak.


"Not that you're likely to believe me, but she wasn't exactly a virgin before I met her friend." Luc wiped at the sweat on his brow, the nights exertions coupled with his wound left him almost as soaked as he had been in the moat.
"Liar! How dare you attempt to foul her good name!"
"I'm a scoundrel sir, not a liar. Did I mention that while I was with her, she suggested we also have one or two of the servants join us?" Luc frequently glanced backward, trying to gauge how much time was left before he had to attempt to dodge another bolt.
"I could have sworn I told you about aggravating people-" the pixie started.
"I actually have a plan here, hold on a moment little one." Luc attempted a grin, which turned to a grimace as the bolt in his bottom was again jostled.
"It would also be in your best interest to take care of that shaft in your ass soon." The pixie was wearing a wry grin, and got a smirk in return for its wit.
"You have sullied her with your perversions as well?! How dare you speak of the lady like that! I shall wear your genitals as a hat on feast day!" The man was visibly fuming, even from the 80 feet that separated him from Luc.
"You misunderstand me.