Barbarian Box Set: Barbarians of Zandipor Books One, Two and Three

Turic lunges forward and Loupin retreats back behind the protection of the spears, hiding behind the tall staff in his hands.


“Seize them!” Loupin yells, pointing at us with a long crooked finger.

The Drandroka around him start to move forward but Turic has friends as well. They step forward surrounding us both.

My friend from before with the bow and arrow steps by my side with an arrow cocked in his bow. It looks ready to fly at anyone who comes near me.

“The swift and proud Cookie Monster will protect you, the noble Saku, with his life.” I almost feel bad now for giving him such a ridiculous name. Almost.

“There is no need for violence,” I call out, stepping between the two tense groups. “We are tired from the journey and we would like to sleep. We can figure all of this out in the morning.” I walk over to Turic and take his hand in mine. “Come my love. Come show me your home. It is the wishes of your Saku.”

He glares forward, looking conflicted.

“Please, Turic,” I whisper. “I’m asking you to come.”

His massive shoulders drop and I take a breath of relief. “The mighty Turic will take the Saku back to his home and devour the syrupy honey that drips from her delicious culip.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” I say tugging him but he doesn’t move. Is it hot out here? I feel really hot…

“Turic will claim her tight culip with his towering cock until his Saku screams Turic’s names to the heavens.”

“Turic,” I whisper. “Boundaries, man.”

With that he scoops me up and throws me over his enormous shoulder, gripping my ass cheek while every Drandroka in the village watches. He turns and marches out of there as everyone present is probably picturing him fucking me.

I place my hand on his hard back and push myself up. Loupin is glaring at me with pinched lips. I give him the finger as Turic takes me out of there.

“Turic,” I say when we’re finally walking through the village alone. “Where’s Tin Tom?”

He just grunts and turns on his heels, walking a different way through the homes dug into the hills.

Turic stops in front of a large cage made out of thick sticks and tied together with rope. Tin Tom is in there talking to a rat-like creature.

“Would you like some France Toast?” he asks the critter.

I tap Turic on the shoulder. “We can leave him in there for a bit longer,” I whisper and Turic tiptoes away.

***

Turic lies on his mossy bed and watches me as I walk around his room, examining his stuff. The place is so cute and not what I would have expected from a terrifying warrior like him.

They seemed to have hollowed out the hills, lining the walls with hard white clay. There’s a large bed inside made out of thick strips of moss stacked on top of each other. I groaned at first when I saw what I would be sleeping in from now on but it’s actually really comfy. Even better than my ten-year-old squeaky mattress back on earth.

There’s not much else: a table and two chairs, some shelves against the wall with knick knacks on them, some loincloths hanging in the back. There’s no kitchen and Turic explains that everyone cooks in the communal firepit in the village. He explains that the Sandroka used to do the cooking but since they’ve disappeared the Drandroka do it all now. I ask him what happened to the females, or Sandroka as he calls them, but he just gets upset so I change the subject. The poor guy has been through enough today. I’ll ask him again another time.

“And this?” I ask, holding up a little Drandroka toy made out of sticks. I want to know everything.

“Turic got that when he completed the Great Walk and became a true Drandroka,” he says proudly.

I can just picture him. A small and bony teenager. Leaving as a child and returning proudly as a man. It brings a smile to my face.

“What’s this one?” I ask, lifting up a rock with a red stripe painted on it.

“Come to Turic,” he says, patting the moss mattress beside him. He doesn’t have to ask me twice. I’m there in an instant. “The mighty Turic will claim your delicious culip now.”

I slide my fingertip down the hard curve of his arm. “Have you ever thought about not talking in the third person?” I ask, scratching my temple. “It sounds kind of weird.”

“Weird?” he says, jerking his head back. “Turic doesn’t understand.”

“You know what?” I say, waving my hand at him. “Never mind. You were saying something about claiming my delicious culip?”

I sink to the mattress with a grin as he leans over me with lust in his eyes. He rubs his hand over my stomach, lowers his head, and gives my belly a soft kiss. “Soon you will bear a thousand of Turic’s mighty babies,” he says between kisses.

“Wait, what?” I ask springing up to a sitting position. Did I just hear that right? A thousand babies? From this guy? I shiver thinking of pushing out even one of this guy’s enormous babies from my human body. My culip is going to look like a soggy lasagna after.

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