Futanari Legends: The Frozen Queen (Book 2: Astrid) Read Online Free

which ends in a mystery either way.
    Another man spins Captain Garrus around, screaming in his face. “We were to take her alive! Our heads shall be had, failure shall not be tolerated! They shall not be so forgiving of us.”
    This man is another mystery, not a soldier, but an adviser to the Imperials-as-bandits. He is a strange man, one I figure as a Southerner from the Empire, dressed in bandit rags but with a royal air to his manners and speech.
    He could be a priest of the God-King, so I watch my magic near him. I have heard others call him Keller the Black, and I assume he knows the ways of magic, though Imperial magic. Imperial magic works from the worship of their Emperor, the God-King of the South. Faith in the divine being who walks among men gives those who believe in his power magic of their own. The North being a conquered land does not lend many to study or even understand this power, and the secrets of this magic are kept a secret among the Imperial High Priests.
    Those who know magic can be keenly aware of its presence, so I watch my notes around this powerful man with dark eyes, oiled black hair, and a ruddy skin of olive.
    And I wonder, who are the others he speaks of? Who are the ones not so forgiving? I expected that if these men were here under Imperial sanction, the high priest would mention the Emperor as the one not so forgiving. Sometimes what is left out is more telling than what is said.
    The archers in my squad fall in, and my sergeant points to a spot he wishes me to take in line. We are dressed as bandits, yet we still parade as Imperials, as the old habits die hard. I fall in line as I walk beside the sergeant, a pock-faced man with a scar down his neck. His eyes flash a sudden uncertainty.
    “Wait. Who are you?”
    A chill runs down my spine. He forgot.
    “A soldier, a scout,” I say, a slight melody barely audible in my voice, “one of yours.”
    His eyes turn friendly as my magic takes hold in his consciousness. It is bardic magic, a simple lie heard as truth, the Song of Lies as it is called back in the college. Normally, it is sung aloud as a party trick, making a room believe a raucous tale of myth and fallacy is quite entertaining. Then, as the song fades the reality of the lie becomes apparent to the crowd to laughs and merriment.
    But I have learned the ways of the Silent Song , to sing and never be heard, as if my songs weren’t songs at all, but merely speech. It is a practiced method of singing where one sings a song softer and softer each day, hitting every note perfect, to the point where your lips move but your melody does not escape but a fingertip’s length from your lips.
    So I can tell lies that are never heard, yet the magic of them still weaves its deception. This, combined with a method known as Narrative Chorus , lets us speak over our songs and notes as if one were narrating over our song. In ancient times this was called the Two Voice Technique , and it was a practiced method of keeping one’s words on a tone and level voice while the notes you sang remained separate and in tune. This was a method invented by bards where one could tell a story, yet use your same voice to provide background music.
    Combining Two Voice with the Silent Song to Sing the Song of Lies , and one could tell bald-faced lies to others and have the magic do its work without anyone knowing the better.
    This man, however, must have forgotten the melody, and the lies were wearing off. I needed the sergeant to keep believing me as his bandit, and the other archers around me as well, so I prepare another dose of my music for their ears. The notes wear off after a while, and while I am practiced at turning my tunes into earwigs that last for days using my Lingering Notes method, my last application of the magical song must be wearing off due to the excitement.
    “A pity those we sought chose to end their lives,” I say to my adopted squad, my words laced with magic unknown to their minds, yet