A Paladin's Journey Ch. 11

Aran grinned. Even now, Smythe couldn't help himself. He pushed his thoughts at the Paladin, trying something he'd never done before.

I require your assistance, friend. Come to the kitchen.

***

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11.2: Cause and Effect

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Smythe's eyes came open as Aran's voice floated into his head. "What in the hells was that?" He muttered. "Some strange dream, I'll wager."

His gaze then fell on Elsa, standing by the bed wearing nothing but a smile. Her hand was doing wonders to his cock, squeezing and stroking, giving it a little twist at the top.

"Hello, lass," he said warmly, reaching out to place a hand on her hip. "Wonderful way to wake up."

She was a beauty, with long, sandy hair and eyes like a doe. Full lips that looked ready to be kissed at all times and tits that only just fit into his hands.

"I'm just getting started with you, Master Paladin," Elsa purred as she climbed onto the bed and threw a leg over his waist.

Smythe raised an eyebrow as he noticed the absence of hair between her legs. "You're bare, down there."

Elsa nodded proudly and reached down to angle his cock to her entrance. "Some of us are taking after the Elvish women and shaving it off. The men seem to love it!"

Smythe chuckled. "It does look good on you, lass." He cupped her ample breasts as she lowered herself onto him, not stopping until he was firmly seated to the hilt. He reduced his size slightly, adjusting according to her needs.

Aran's voice appeared in his head again, this time much more insistent. Come to the kitchen.

Was that amusement Smythe was picking up in Aran's tone? "Just when I start to bloody well enjoy myself," he grumbled.

"Everything alright, love?" Elsa asked, looking down at him curiously.

"Aye," Smythe replied with a resigned sigh. "Aran needs me in the kitchen."

"What, now?" She looked equal parts amused and scandalised. "But we just got going!"

Smythe sat up, finding his old strength was coming back to him. Two days ago, he'd been unable to do even that on his own. He gathered up Elsa's tits and pressed his face into them, taking the nipples into his mouth one at a time and then tickling them with his mustaches. She squealed at the sensation, but hugged his head to her chest, happy to let him continue.

"I'm going to go," Smythe began, staring into her eyes. "But I'll leave you with this." He pushed his vala at his lover and sent her into a spiral of pleasure that would continue to ascend slowly for some time.

Elsa immediately collapsed onto him and began to quiver, clutching his shoulders. Her pussy clamped down on his cock, and her internal muscles rippled as waves of hot, sweet bliss rolled through her.

"You owe me one, Aran," Smythe said to himself as he gently lay Elsa down on the bed and got up. He got his bearings, using his vala to map out the happenings in the Chapel. A smile crossed his face as his senses painted the picture.

"Might as well get down there and have a look," he said to himself as he opened the door and exited the room, not bothering to don his vaima. The rest of the Chapel's occupants were mostly all naked, anyway.

*

Smythe entered the Chapel's huge kitchen just as Ari was leaving. Devoid of pants, the portly innkeeper was blushing like fire as a pretty, golden-haired Elf girl led him from the room by the hand.

Smythe chuckled as they passed him through the wide archway. "Well done, Master Ari. Well done," he said softly. And to the Elf, he added with a grin: "Be gentle with him, Eryn'elda."

Stopping, she turned and looked Smythe up and down boldly. Her eyes were the clearest, pale blue he'd ever seen. "I might be back for you next, eruchen," she purred, putting her arm around Ari's shoulders.

Ari made a sound that could have been thanks, or perhaps he was choking. Either way, Smythe was guessing the fellow couldn't believe his fortune.

"Enjoy yourself, Master Ari," Smythe told the mayor of Rostin. "You deserve something good for all your hard work looking after us, and your people."

Ari shifted his feet, looking uncomfortable at the praise. A humble man, was Ari. "Thank you, Master Henley, sir," he mumbled softly.

"And the Elves owe you greatly," the Elf girl cooed. She was a little taller than her lover, and she looked down at him hotly. "We saved many brothers and sisters because of your leadership. Captain Tarien has instructed my sisters and I to show you the utmost gratitude."

Her tone left no question as to what 'utmost gratitude' might be. Smythe was almost envious of the man.

"Speaking of my sisters," she said, removing her arm from around him and grabbing his hand again. "I want to show them how nice your cock is. Come along!" She led him off down the hallway, even as Ari groaned in due parts excitement and dread.

Smythe watched them go, shrugging his shoulders helplessly when Ari looked back over his shoulder, his eyes wide. In the hands of Elf women, the man would soon forget his modesty.

In the kitchen, Smythe was greeted by the sight of two more naked women. Both Human, one was riding Aran, who was seated in a chair. Nearby, another woman looked to be preparing food! His stomach growled even as he grew hard. The dark-haired one -- Lacie, he thought her name was -- was quite an eyeful.

She looked up from her work to wink at him. Her dark eyes had an attractive sparkle that Smythe liked. "About time you showed up, Master Paladin," she said matter-of-factly. "I need some man, and the only other one here is occupied."

She jerked her head back over her shoulder to indicate Aran and the other woman. Smythe thought that might be Brenna, judging by the hair and the generous curves.

"Well that sounds like a serious problem," Smythe replied, moving over behind Lacie. He placed his hands on her waist and she sighed contentedly. She leaned back into him, pressing her shoulders into his chest.

"It is," she agreed. "And to make matters worse, I need to make sure Master Aran eats." She pushed her ass back against his thighs, and Smythe's cock slipped between her legs. She trapped it between her thighs and squeezed them together.

"Well, continue as you were," Smythe whispered as he nuzzled at her slim neck through her dark curls. "I'll amuse myself back here while you work."

Getting the idea, Lacie widened her stance and pushed her bottom out further. Free of its pleasant prison, Smythe's cock lifted and came to rest against her smooth pussy. Her wet heat radiated onto his sensitive skin, beckoning him inside.

"Hello, Smythe," Aran said from behind him. "Glad you could join us." His voice sounded muffled, as if he were speaking around one of Brenna's tits.

"Hello, Aran," Smythe returned with a grunt as he slipped the head of his prick between Lacie's pink lips. Lacie moaned her approval as he penetrated her silky depths. Amazingly, she continued to prepare food for Aran as Smythe leisurely fucked her, one hand on her hip, the other gripping her shoulder for leverage.

"As soon as my meal is ready," Smythe heard Aran say to Brenna. "I'm going to eat it off your body."

Brenna laughed and agreed. She was riding Aran so hard that the chair legs were sliding across the floor with short squeals of wood on stone.

A moment later, Brenna was perched on the bench next to Smythe and Lacie with Aran standing between her spread thighs. Together the two Paladins fucked their lovers side by side.

"Swap?" Aran suggested after a few minutes, his eyebrows raised questioningly.

Smythe nodded and pulled himself free of Lacie, who protested momentarily until Aran took Smythe's place.

Smythe positioned himself in front of buxom Brenna, and she eyed him hungrily as she accepted him into her bald cunt. Her arms wound around his neck, and her legs locked around his waist. "Looks like the Elvish fashion is catching on," Smythe remarked, nodding down at the place where their bodies were joined.

"Yep!" She replied, arching her back and presenting her marvelous tits. "It feels nice to be bare, down there. It feels more sensitive."

"I might try it, too!" Lacie chimed in. She was doing her best to cut some cheese from a big wheel on the bench, but Aran's efforts were making it difficult for her. Her body shook with each collision of Aran's hips against her ass. "I quite like the look of it!"

"The men certainly like it!" Brenna exclaimed between moans. "I've never had so much attention as these last few days!"

"Pfft!" Lacie scoffed, finally pushing the wide wooden board to the side. It was now piled with sliced meats, cheese and bread. Smythe was looking forward to a sample when he finished with the sex. "You've always been popular, and you know it, woman! Half the men in the village talk about what you look like naked."

Brenna laughed at that, and shot her friend a coy look. "Well, now they know!" She hefted her tits for emphasis, and Lacie giggled, at least until Aran's vala spiked, sending her into a series of violent convulsions. The poor woman would have collapsed if Aran had not scooped her into his arms.

Turning, the young Paladin lay Lacie down on the island bench that ran almost the full length of the long room. While she recovered, he darted to the huge board laden with morsels and began to shovel handfuls into his mouth.

"Take it easy, lad!" Smythe remarked, momentarily slowing the pumping of his hips. It was difficult; Brenna's pussy was wonderful. "You'll choke!"

Aran eyed Smythe suspiciously. "You just want some for yourself!" He crammed in another handful. Gods, was he even chewing before he swallowed?

Suddenly Brenna's hands seized Smythe's face and turned him until their eyes met. "Am I not enough of a treat for you, Henley?" She asked wickedly, bucking her hips up toward him. "Give me your come, and I'll feed you whenever you want!"

"Sounds like a deal, to me," Smythe agreed. He took Brenna's ample hips in his hands and began to hammer into her with vigour. He pushed her over the edge with a nudge from his vala and then released his own control over his pleasure, allowing his balls to lift and churn before they erupted. He roared as he splashed his seed into her depths.

Brenna shook like a sheet in the wind, shuddering for long moments as she came down from her peak. Smythe gently lay her back down; the bench was plenty deep enough. He remained inside her for a bit, though, not quite ready to remove himself from the warm confines of her cunt.

"That was good!" Aran mumbled around a mouthful of food. "These Rostin women are something, my friend. No wonder the Elves like them so much!"

Smythe nodded. "Very true." He pulled his glistening cock free of Brenna's pussy and adjusted her on the bench so she was lying lengthways rather than having her legs hanging over the edge. She would need time to recover, and being comfortable would help.

Brenna fell into a light sleep as the pleasure subsided, and Smythe let her rest. Turning to Aran, he was happy to see the younger man holding out the board. "Thanks," he said gratefully as he grabbed some bread, meat and cheese.

"How is Elaina?" Smythe asked Aran, leaning his hip against the bench.

"She is well," Aran replied, hopping up on the island bench opposite Smythe. Lacie was still laid out behind where Aran was sitting, sleeping peacefully. "She is resting. We've been fucking all the time since whatever happened to me."

That was the opening Smythe had been hoping for. "What did happen to you, exactly? You were always strong, but this is something else entirely." He took more food when Aran offered, holding the board up across the intervening space.

Aran thought for a moment before answering, chewing his food more slowly than before. "Aros came to me," he said finally. "After I woke, I had access to new depths of the vala."

"You saw Aros?" Smythe asked in wonder, a hunk of bread forgotten in his hand. "What was it like?"

Aran shook his head, sending his shoulder-length dark hair swinging. "I didn't see him, but he was there. A vast, cosmic force. He spoke to me."

"What did he say?"

Aran seemed to look inwardly, then shrugged. "I can't remember, to be honest."

"Figures," Smythe said, ripping off a big bite of bread. "Can't expect to converse with a god and have your mortal mind retain it."

Aran grunted agreement. "Have you spoken with Amina lately?"

"No. While healing I was unable to visit the Plane. I thought I might try and visit her soon, though." He watched Aran as the younger man plucked some of the last remaining items from the board before offering the rest to Smythe.

"Have you thought about taking a meldin again?" Aran asked casually.

Smythe's hand froze halfway to the board. He had been thinking about it, but how did Aran know to ask? Was it coincidence? Probably not; nothing related to Aran ever seemed to be coincidence. He tried to meet Aran's eyes levelly over the board, but it was bloody unsettling sometimes, looking into that blue gaze that seemed to see the entire universe unfolding moment by moment.

"I have," Smythe said carefully.

"You should. I think it will help us, in the coming years."

Smythe frowned. "Having more meldin will help us? How?" Smythe would have thought it was the opposite; more meldin meant more weaknesses for their enemies to exploit.

"Think about it," Aran replied, placing the wooden board down on the bench next to him. "If you look at the world from high enough, it's like a huge game. All these different forces pushing and pulling at one another, each trying to get the advantage.

"The Heralds go here," he put his hand out, palm up. "And the Dwarves go there," he used his other hand in the same way. "The Elves do this, and we do that." He studied Smythe intently. "Push and pull, give and take, back and forth. Cause and effect, my friend."

"Yes, that's usually how things work, Aran, but where are you going with it?" Smythe crossed his arms, curious.

"You realise you were stabbed by a Maharagi?" Aran asked quietly, again taking the conversation in a different direction.

Smythe inclined his head grimly. He'd given it some thought, and there was little chance the blade could have been anything else but tainted by Maharad. The wounds still stung a little, but they had mostly closed. He would have scars for the first time in his life.

"And the woman who stabbed you was Nameless."

Now that, Smythe did not know. His eyebrows climbed. "Are you sure? It could have been some Herald lucky enough to dig up an artifact of Maharad, could it not?"

Aran's head swung in disagreement. "I looked into her soul, Henley. His touch was upon her. She was his vessel."

Smythe whistled silently. So Maharad was touching the world again. Then again, perhaps he'd never stopped. "Where are you going with all this, man?" He was intrigued. If there was a pattern within all this chaos, it was lost on Smythe.

"What does Maharad want?" Aran asked pointedly.

Smythe answered. "Division, chaos, uncertainty."

"And Aros?"

"Love, unity, hope. The complete opposite, effectively."

Aran put his hands up again like he had a moment ago. "Maharad." He wiggled his left. "And Aros." He wiggled the right, then moved them up and down like a set of scales. "Each gains and loses power to the other, and we are at the centre of it.

"The more division, chaos and uncertainty, the more powerful Maharad grows. The more love, unity and hope, the more powerful Aros grows. At least on this plane."

Smythe finally understood. "So, the more meldin we tie to ourselves, we bolster Aros' numbers, his strength."

Aran smiled and nodded slowly. "I am not suggesting we go out and meld willy-nilly, but if a suitable woman comes along, why not, man?"

Smythe grimaced. He still smarted from the loss of his last meldin, and that was seventy years ago, almost.

Aran gestured to Lacie sleeping behind him, and then to Brenna behind Smythe. "Spend some time with these two. They have good hearts."

Smythe smiled as he looked at each woman in turn. They were good women. The vala didn't lie.

"But come and see me before you meld with them, if that's what you choose to do," Aran added mysteriously. "I think I've just figured something out."

"What?" Smythe asked.

Aran waggled his finger. "Not now. Later. Only if you choose them both." At that, he hopped down from the bench and left the kitchen, whistling a merry tune as if he had not a care in the world.

Smythe wondered if Aran had been driven mad. It was certainly a lot for a young man to take on. He was brought from his thoughts by a caress from Brenna, who appeared to be stirring from her sleep. Smiling, he turned and looked down at her as her eyes came open.

She smiled like a cat that had been given a gallon of cream. "Fancy another round?" She purred, arching her back as she stretched.

Not bothering with words, Smythe vaulted onto the bench and was on top of her in a flash, pressing his lips to hers.

***

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11.3: Escape from Amindaer

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Thunder crashed over the city of Amindaer, barely audible over the rain hammering down on the tiled rooftops and sloping, cobbled streets. Kyra pulled Lissitha along behind her as she hurried toward the docks. Both women were soaked through, despite the heavy cloaks they wore to hide themselves from sight as much as possible.

It was only mid-afternoon, but it may as well have been midnight for all the sun those roiling black clouds allowed through. Yet despite the darkness, Kyra turned down side-streets and narrow alleys to avoid the odd pedestrian braving the storm.

If she were spotted by someone loyal to Marcos, her chances at leaving Amindaer unmolested became slim to none. For the ninth time since leaving the palace, she felt regret at being unable to convince the other members of Marcos' harem to join her in fleeing Palistair. Only Lissitha - the beautiful Andrakin - had chosen freedom over fear of the king.

The deluge continued uninterrupted as Kyra led Lissitha down this street and that, ducking down alleyways when necessary. She kept her vala suppressed; you never knew who might know how to spot an arohim.

Amindaer was built on an incline, with the palace at the peak and the docks at the bottom. The city fanned out up the hill from where the land met the sea. Wide drains flanked the street, running beneath the cobblestones to transport the stormwater back down to the ocean. The drains held up in all but the worst rains, but as it was, an inch of water flowed down the surface of the street, washing around her boots.

One hand gripped Lissitha's firmly as they scuttled along, and the other frequently checked the twin daggers she wore, one on each hip. Anar'isil, Sun and Moon. She'd forged them many centuries ago, when she'd taken on the mantle of Paladin. The elegantly curved, narrow blades had served her well over the years, and they never missed their targets, as long as she could see what she aimed at.

With luck, she would not need to draw them today. A sigh of relief escaped Kyra's lips as the slope of the street levelled out some, indicating that they'd reached the lower city. The docks -- and freedom -- were just on the other side of the multitude of buildings that made up the district.

Unfortunately, they were more likely to encounter trouble down here. The lower city was infamous for its dirty taverns and plethora of brothels. Sailors aplenty populated this district, come from all over the world to trade with Amindaer's merchants. Men spending long weeks or months at sea meant that a pretty young woman could find much work here, if she could stomach it.