The damage the Earthman inflicted was slight. Armor-like scales deflected the main impact of Ponkert's blows before the sharp point of his knife could sink into the vital flesh beneath.
Its bloated trunk completely free of Elf, the snake now whipped its heavy body forward, trying to ensnare its newest prey in its deadly twisting coils. Ponkert's legs carried him above the ensnarling living whip time and time again. However, he realized it was only a matter of time before the results of this uneven match became evident and he fell victim to the creature's deadly, crushing embrace.
His attention turned back to the snake's head. Again and again, he tried to drive the flashing blade into the loathsome eyes of the writhing creature. But again and again, his attempts were in vain, as the ponderous monster twisted and coiled away from the striking tooth of steel. Ponkert held back his want to scream out in agony, as the snake's movements twisted the fangs still held in his bleeding arm.
Almost before he realized what had happened, a slithering coil trapped his right leg. He went down to his knees, prepared for the ponderous mass of snake that would soon encompass his body. But before it could lash out with its ensnaring rings of scaled death, Ponkert felt a violent shock transmitted through the snake's mouth. The Earthman's eyes flashed up and saw Elf lifting a huge rock above her head. The rock descended with a fleshy thud onto the snake's thick back.
The new attack from the rear was all that was needed to again divert the monster's attention. Taking advantage of the opening given to him, Ponkert drove his blade forward, slicing it into the creature's eye. He felt the slight resistance of bone, then the dagger drove into the brain.
In an unearthly scream, the gargantuan opened its mouth, freeing its fangs from the arm it had held. Geysers of thick green blood boiled from the pit that had once contained its eye, as Ponkert scrambled back.
Screaming again the monster convulsed and collapsed dead on the bank of the stream, its huge coils continued to quiver in reflex action.
Shaking visibly from the near-death encounter, Ponkert called out to the girl, who dropped her rock on the monster for one last time, 'Are you all right?'
'Yes,' Elf replied, her voice going at full quiver. 'But your arm?'
Before he knew it, the girl was at his side, leading him into the cold stream. Her hands urged him to sink into the washing current.
'It's not poisonous,' she said rinsing the blood and grime from his wound. 'But it needs to be cleaned and bandaged to stop infection.'
He didn't protest, but insisted that she also look after any possible injuries she might have sustained. Following his directions, she dipped into the water and washed the muck of the fight from her body. A body that Ponkert suddenly realized was nude!
'Nothing but a few bruises that will be sore in the morning. Nothing to worry about,' she announced.
He nodded and smiled. As the girl helped him from the water, he realized that his first impressions of Elf, and those he had made during their week together, were completely off base.
Any thoughts he had gathered that Elfgwynne of Hort was a young, undeveloped tomboy were completely dispelled by her nakedness. As his eyes travelled over her pleasing curves while they walked back to the campsite, he realized that it was this girl's subtle beauty that had been slowly insinuating itself into his psyche during the past week and had caused his recent worry.
Elf was young, but far from underdeveloped. She was merely small boned.
Her bare body presented the picture of a delicate, finely crafted Dresden china doll. Her lithe body moved in the regal grace he had first detected that day after he had defeated the direwolves. Her shoulders were thrust back fully displaying two firm, proud breasts that heaved as she breathed. Two delightfully pink, blossom-like nipples were prominently placed at the tips of the fleshy cones. While her breasts were nothing like the super tits of Jocelyn or Leda at the House of White Satin, they were far from lacking. They were high and firm with slightly upturned blushing nipples. In proportion with the rest of her body, they matched perfectly.
Her legs were just long and supple enough to be described as elegant.
Her calves held a soft, muscular look and her thighs were fully developed, holding the strength to grasp and please a man. As they reached the blazing glow of the campfire, his eyes were drawn to the downy patch of chestnut fur that bushed below the sleek plain of her flat stomach. The flickering flames were caught in the droplets of water still held there and were ignited like a thousand sparkling gems.
Elfgwynne of Hort was definitely not a tomboy, his mind repeated. She was a woman! And a very desirable one!
'Do you think I need an aphrodisiac to win a man?' she questioned as he sat on the ground near the fire.
Reading the seriousness in her almost green hazel eyes, he suddenly realized the reason for Elf's earlier coldness. An expert woodsman, an expert swordsman and raised by her father, the girl had become a tomboy to the point of even wearing her hair cut short in the rough shaggy hairdo. But she was a woman and knew it. Still her almost manly life had left doubts in her mind about her womanhood and her powers of attraction for the opposite sex.
'No,' he assured her in a soft but determined voice. 'You have absolutely no need of that rose you found today.'
'Are you sure?' she questioned, as she wrapped a white bandage around his forearm and tied it securely.
'Yes,' he replied letting his eyes linger over the gentle curves of her body a little longer than necessary. 'You are very beautiful. Probably far much more than you realize.'
'And I have no need of the rose?' she continued 'None at all,' he smiled.
'Good,' she grinned, then changing the subject. 'You're shivering!'
'It's the coolness of the night and these soaking wet clothes,' he answered.
'Get out of them and get into your bedroll. That'll get you warm,' she commanded.
Following her directions, he lifted himself from the ground and walked to his laid-out bedroll. With a little bit of diff1culty caused by his stiffening arm, he managed to strip down to his home-made jock strap, then prepared to climb into the soft bed.
'Get that off, too!' Elf ordered from behind him. 'I don't want you catching a cold.'
Glancing over his shoulder, he sheepishly grinned at the girl, realizing he had never fully stripped before her during their week together. But shrugging his shoulders, he pulled the jock strap and nutcup down, and dropped it atop the pile of his other clothes.
Elf walked to his side and gathered up the wet clothing and began laying it out before the fire to dry as he once again prepared to get into his sleeping bag.
'Did you know that these sleeping bags are of a special design?' she suddenly questioned.
'No,' he answered, studying the bedroll with a puzzled look.
'They are,' she continued in a nonchalant voice. 'They are designed so they can be fastened together into one large bag-big enough to hold two people.'
His groin lurched at the words that he had just heard and he turned to the girl still arranging his clothes by the fire.
Somewhat unbelieving and astonished, he questioned, 'Elf, am I reading you right? Or did you just proposition me?'
Innocently, her eyes met his and she replied, 'I know nothing of propositions, but there is a tradition in Hort that if a man saves a young woman from danger, he has the right… '
'… to bed the woman,' he finished her statement. 'Yes, I know. I've had a run in with that custom.'
The sorrel-haired Hortian princess went on, 'Twice now you have saved me from death and yet you have refused to exercise your privilege. I think that I have need of my rose.'
'You don't have to use that damned flower,' he said, trying to think of some polite way of telling this girl, that had just offered to jump into bed with him, that he had never seen her as a woman before.
'Is it because I'm a virgin that you find me so unattractive,' she puzzled.
Virgin! The word blasted through his mind leaving him slightly more than a little unsure and confused. Fumbling for some answer, he blurted out,
'A sleeping bag in the middle of the forest is no place to be offering your maidenhead. Besides, your father is a close friend of mine, what would he think?'
The words sounded every bit as foolish to him as they were. Here was a very sexy and attractive girl offering her cherry and it had him flustered!
