Ladies of the Tower Ch. 06

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The circus is coming to town!
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Part 6 of the 6 part series

Updated 06/09/2023
Created 06/25/2019
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With their first mission behind them (which I titled, "Curse of the Whore's Temple," but forgot to include this in the first chapter), so begins the second part, and their next mission from the Mysterious Wizard. I hope you all enjoy!

Part-II: Season of the Bitch

Chapter-6: Lia & Owen

Owen Crue had come to the Lolamach, and as the Ladies of the Tower gathered, they all knew that this meant that their mysterious employer had another assignment for them. Of course, Lia Lunde was hoping this was more of a social visit, as he would show-up from time-to-time on mundane business. During these visits, Lia and he would spend a lot of time together discussing the gods, taking walks in the forest, and the like. To the other Ladies of the Tower (and even their servants), the romance budding between the two was obvious—despite the many-more winters the Alderman had seen than the beautiful, young Cleric.

Even though he was familiar to them, Alderman Crue was still somewhat of an enigma. They could tell, just by his demeanor, and bearing, that he had a past as an adventurer, yet he never spoke of it. By all outward appearances, he seemed a humble man, and nothing more than the elected voice of the local village. In actuality, he was their contact for their employer that gave them their orders and supplied their funds, so they had already reckoned that appearances were deceiving.

The (now) seven Ladies of Lolamach assembled in the great hall of the tower where Master Owen waited for them. Nora Bane (leader of the Ladies) took her place at the head of the table opposite Owen, while the others took their seats on the sides. To her right was the second-in-command: the Barbarian of the North, Selk; and to her left was their Cleric, Lia Lunde. The other four ladies all had their specialties. Cira the Slip (a Halfling-Thief) was their expert on all things requiring stealth, deception, and getting past security devices. Kerryllon (the Elf-Wizard) was their mistress of all things arcane. Sara Monfort was a mixed-blood Elf-Human, and a Ranger/Scout that could survive in the most hostile wilderness, and was deadly with a bow. And their latest addition was Erylleff Rallyfaign (a Drow-Assassin), adept with poisons, blow-darts, and daggers in the shadows. But, evidently, this was not enough for the Wizard that employed them, as they soon found out:

"Ladies," Owen began, in an official tone, "you will soon be leaving for your first assignment away from the tower. You will be traveling north to the Blue Vale to the east of the Barbarian Lands. Your journey their must be kept secret. Any band of adventurers traveling to the Blue Vale, on their own, might attract undue attention. So, you will be traveling as 'sell-swords' for a Gypsy Circus. That is your cover. All the arrangements have been made, and your contact for the circus will be arriving this evening. Her name is Solana."

"Master Owen," Nora spoke-up, "what is our quest? What are we supposed to do in the Blue Vale?"

"I am sorry, Mistress Nora," he started to explain, "but this assignment is of the utmost secrecy, and you need not know that as of yet. And truth-be-told, I do not know, myself."

"So, we're supposed to got blindly off to the Blue Vale without a clue as to our objective," she asked, incredulously.

A flat, emotionless,"Yes", was the only answer Nora got. While his answer vexed her, she understood the tactic of "screening" their movements, and keeping objectives on a "need-to-know" basis. All the competent field-marshals she had served under did the same thing. The overall strategy of these two points gave an army an upper-hand when battle was met. Still, she didn't like the idea of moving blind.

Selk sat back in her chair with a pensive expression on her face, her brow furrowed. The region known as the "Blue Vale" was rich farming land, and not very far from the lands of her own tribe. To the north of the Vale was the Mountain-Halls of the Dwarf Clans, and the farms of the Blue Vale supplied the food in exchange for a portion of the riches from the dwarven mines. The barbarian tribes did not bother to raid the Vale as they knew that would mean war with the Dwarf Clans. Added to this was the fact that the region boasted one of the finest volunteer armies in the known world. Consequently, the people of the Vale had no need for a noble-lord for protection. The Blue Vale was a free-state of yeoman, peaceful, and fiercely independent.

Despite her reputation, Selk was not quite a dim-witted and ignorant as her companions believed—especially when it came to the short one's thought on the matter. She knew what this meant: if what was going on in the Vale had attracted the attention of the Wizard, and he thought it important enough to act upon, then the situation must be dire. Although, she couldn't imagine what kind of fool would attack the Vale...

There had been, in the past, ambitious kings, and nobles in search of glory and riches, that have attempted such a campaign. Many had approached the Tribes in search of "auxiliaries" for their armies. The tribal chieftains knew that "auxiliaries" was just a fancy word for "mercenaries," and that meant being fodder for enemy pikes and arrows. Consequently, they were all summarily turned-down.

What kind of fool, she wondered. What kind of fool, indeed...!

***

Lia and Owen sat in the tower's library after the meeting. They were discussing the mysteries of fate-and-fortune over a cup of mulled-wine when she abruptly changed the subject.

"What is it, Master Owen," she began, with much concern in her tone that made her sound more like a clergy-member than a friend and colleague, "that you so desperately are trying to forget?"

The alderman was somewhat taken aback by her query, as if she was looking into his soul. Somehow, she could see it: the thing that he had pushed to the back of his mind for many years, now. It was something he was trying to escape, possibly hide, at best. But her compassion could look right into his pain, and it was as obvious as a sunrise to her.

"Why do you ask this," he said, attempting to deflect her question.

"Because, sweet-sir," she began to explain, in a way that was both charming and forthright, "if I wish to pursue a courtship with you, I have to know everything about you."

His eyes widened, and he gripped the arms of his chair, nervously, at what she had just said. On an academic-level, he knew that the female servants of Danu were not given to the coquette-like ways of other women, and that they tended to be more blunt in matters of love and sex. However, he was not accustomed to this, and Lia saw his reaction.

"Forgive me," she told him, "I should have been a bit more tactful-"

"No," he interrupted, quickly, with a conspicuous wide-eyed desperation, "Forgive me! I thought that the way I was feeling for you was one-sided. It is hard for me to imagine that such a young, beautiful woman would see me in that light."

"Darling-Owen, beauty radiates from the soul. It is not a manifestation of skin-and-bone. The wrinkles around your eyes, the gray in your hair, is all a part of who you are: a man, a man I am falling in love with..."

With her words, a single tear fell from his eye, and he looked into hers, and began to speak:

"I was a Paladin of Torym, god of the sun. My order became consumed with a lust for power and wealth. They strayed from the path of righteousness and mercy. A few of us (that I led) rebelled against our captain. I killed him in a duel. I left...

"Now, I sit here before you, bereft of faith, and nonredeemable."

"You've no need for redemption," she consoled him, "Your captain is the one in need of his god's forgiveness, not you! He is the one who perverted the faith, and strayed from Torym's will for the facile prosperity of the mortal coil. He was the author of his own fate, and you were simply the instrument of Torym's will that borne his fate to fruition!"

"You are wise, Lia." he admitted, "But, still, I cannot forgive myself."

"Such hubris, my love," she admonished him, as a mother would a foolish son, "Torym's grace trumps your self-pity! Can you put yourself above the One you serve? If you are guilty of a sin, it is your own selfishness and vanity. If you think your god has abandoned you, it's for this, and not the death of your captain!"

It was as if a decade of regret and sadness suddenly faded from his eyes, and they became confident and vibrant, again. And in this moment, he knew that Lia had healed him from his years of self-punishment. He realized that his exile from grace was imposed by his own doubt and misplaced guilt.

Abruptly, he stood, and moved over to Lia. And gingerly, he cupped her chin, kissing her with great passion.

Lia and Owen embraced each other, locked in amorous affection. They fumbled frantically with buttons and laces as their clothes began to loosen from their bodies, and fall away. It seemed that they did not heed the fact that they were in the library, and that anyone could walk-in on them at any moment. They did not care. All that mattered was this moment in which they would consummate their love.

Owen kissed and nibbled at her neck as her breasts were exposed, and her rosy-pink nipples hardened at his touch. Her body hummed and crackled with the depth of his passion for her, and she responded by stroking his hair as he made his way downward to her chest.

Her breathing became heavy as his lips met her nipple. It had been a long time since Lia felt the touch of another, and even longer since it had been a man. Her experience in the temple had been the manifestation of a curse that was more like a dream than reality. She had almost forgotten the rough, yet sensual, way that males had—the strength and power as they took what the wanted from their lover. It had a sublime feeling of surrender and helplessness that was a counterpoint to the intuitive symbiosis of being another woman. And while she relished both experiences, being with a man had the excitement of danger.

"Yes, my love," she purred at the older-man, "take me, I am yours!"

Owen place her on the table, and moved between her legs. She had heard that men, when the had seen many winters, would require more attention for them to attain a tumescent glow. But this was not the case for him as she felt his rigid manhood press against the tender folds of her awaiting sex.

He lovingly ran his fingers through her dark hair as he slowly pushed inside, and she trembled. And when he was all the way in, she wrapped her legs around his waist and moved her hips in-time with his languid thrusts.

The held each other closely as they passionately kissed and their tongues lashed as if they were in a sort of lustful melee. It was a long awaited intimacy that she deeply desired. The months of denying their passions, and the sudden emotional release, the pent-up lust, drove her to a quick climax.

"By the Goddess," she exclaimed, as her moans and whimpers became more pronounced, "the apex has come upon me, my love!"

"Yes!" he answered, "I cannot hold back, either!"

"Fill me!" she encouraged, "Please, fill me!"

As their mutual orgasm reached the point-of-no-return, they called-out their ecstasy to each other. Moments later, the Alderman's seed flooded Lia's depths, as the final wave of her release passed over her trembling frame.

After they caught their breath, the unlikely couple headed to the Cleric's bed-chamber, where the spent the afternoon sating the passionate desires that accompany the joining of souls. The explored each other until they realized that the twilight of the coming night broke through the window, and they would have to attend to supper, and the obligations of the Tower.

They did their best not to look disheveled and exhausted from their long awaited lovemaking, but it was obvious to all what they had been up to that day. However, the received no chiding, nor jeers, from their comrades, only a few knowing glances, and smiles of approval. Lia had, at least, expected Cira to make a sideways comment, yet the little Halfling seemed to be on her best behavior.

Little did Lia know that Selk had threaten to beat Cira to a bloody-pulp if she made even one joke that she didn't like. Also, Kerryllon had promised her that if she said anything untoward at supper that she would cast a spell that would make the her large, firm boobs (that she was so proud of) sag down to her knees. And while Cira was certain that the Elf knew no such spell, the Thief thought it best not to take chances.

It was the toughest night of Cira's life.

***

Lia and Owen were up early the next morning preparing for the arrival of the Circus Cazanne. All the servants—five now, thanks to the generosity of their employer's advance of five-hundred in gold coin for their last mission—flitted about, setting up decorations and extra tables in the main hall for the afternoon meal. Among them was Lobo Dunne, a simple young man, and half Hill Giant. He stood at seven-and-a-half feet of lean muscle, a menacing figure, yet was often the often the target of jeering and cruelty by his fellow villagers as he was simple-minded. However, unlike his Hill Giant lineage, he was not a vicious brute with a taste for human flesh; he was kind, gentle, and trusting. This made him an easy mark for the malicious and cruel.

It was Cira that found him in the village. He was in some stables, sobbing, having faced yet another needless cruelty. The giant was in the employ of the Livery-Master that had taken to whipping him for the slightest infraction. And when he came in with a crop, lashing the giant with it, as he yelling about getting back to work, this enraged Cira, and she seriously thought about driving her stiletto into the base of his skull. But, instead, she immediately demanded his release from service, to which the brutal man laughed in her face. With a defiant "harrumph," Cira turned on her heel, and left. But she returned the livery an hour later, and with her big blonde friend in-tow. Selk had convinced the man—with no small amount of strong-arming—to reconsider the Halfling's offer. In truth, neither woman could stomach bullies, so it was the Barbarian's pleasure to "negotiate" a deal with the Livery-Master. Since that day, he had become their stable-hand, and Cira's new best-friend.

If anything, the other Ladies thought it was sweet the way the little Halfling would look-out for him as if she was his big-sister. However, they would become just as vexed because she had a tendency of distracting Lobo from his daily chores. After all, Cira was not known for being industrious, nor lending a hand, when there was physical labor involved. So it was no surprise to Lia when she was forced to drive their resident thief back into the tower as to keep their stable-hand on task. There was a lot of pavilions to erect, and Lobo was the only one strong enough, and tall enough, to help get the job done in a timely manner.

As the final pavilion was going up, Lia turn to Owen, and asked, "So, who is this 'Solana' person? Is she to join our ranks?"

"I really don't know much other than she is a Druid for her clan," he answered, almost as if he didn't care. In truth, it was no matter to him. He had learned long ago that the Wizard would do as he would do. And so far, Owen had been given no reason not to trust his employer's judgment. With this in mind, he added, "Don't worry about it: what her part in this is all about, whether she going to stay-on, or not... The Wizard seems to know what he's doing."

Lia hoped she wouldn't be staying-on. Druids were practically heretics! They were nature worshipers that believed in no gods. Yet, somehow, they managed to wield Divine-Magic. This puzzled Lia to no end, and caused her not to trust the source of their power. After all, "nature" was the dominion of her goddess, Danu. Maybe they did worship Danu, and just do not know it, she pondered.

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