Pentacle Knight Pt. 02

"Gwen, forgive me for asking this, but is Guinevere your real name? Were you named after our late queen for a reason?" he whispered.

She looked at him in hurt shock after that question. Her breathing grew rapid as tears streamed down her face.

"I don't know," she stammered. "I remember my father saying that name to me as he died," she wept as she sank to her knees next to the tub.

Aron leaned over the edge and touched his forehead to hers as he held her face between his hands.

"I know thinking about it hurts, but how do you know that man was your father?"

"Some of my strongest memories are about him. I remember him giving me my bow and teaching me how to use it. I called him father then," she wept.

"What was his name?"

"I don't know."

"Do you know your mother's name?" he pressed.

"No! I don't know!" she wept angrily.

"Shh, sorry, Gwen. We don't have to talk about it anymore tonight," he whispered as he cradled her face and gently kissed her mouth.

She calmed down after a few more kisses. Then she took a deep breath and wiped her face on her sleeve.

"Those memories are exhausting," she whispered and took another shaky breath.

"I know. I'm sorry for pushing you. Go rest. I'll be out in a few minutes."

She nodded and kissed him one last time before she left the bathroom. Aron was expecting to find her asleep as he stepped out of the bathroom to look for his clothes. Gwen was lying on the bed in her small robe, watching the fire. She raised up and smiled at Aron's exhibition. He blushed as he watched her eyes trail over his body, taking in his athletic frame. The cross and eye sigil burned into his left breast still announced him as a Paladin of The Holy Order.

"I never knew a man could be so beautiful," she said with a smile.

"Thank you, Gwen. That's a huge compliment coming from you," he said as he climbed onto the bed and kissed her.

She moaned softly as he pushed her down and laid on top of her, letting her feel his weight again. Her robe had fallen open, allowing his warm erection to press against her thigh.

"How do you want me, Gwen?" he whispered as he rocked his hips, letting his cock press harder against her inviting skin.

"I want to see what happens to your cock when your pleasure peaks," she said with a smile.

"Sure, you could massage it with your hand if you like. Or, if you're really brave, you could use your mouth," he said with a smirk as he climbed off of her and sat next to her on the bed.

"My mouth?" she chuckled. "Is that more advice from Tomas?" she asked as she reached for his cock.

"It is. You don't have to if you don't want to," he groaned as she gently stroked him.

She stared at his shapely erection as she pulled his soft skin around his tip and pushed it back down again. She could tell her touch was provoking his entire body. She looked at his half-lidded eyes and smiled before she leaned down and took his tip into her mouth. He gasped softly as she sucked him. She could taste a bit of saltiness on his tip as she lapped her tongue over it. He shuddered and squirmed as she teased and stroked him. His legs began to twitch as she slid her mouth up and down his shaft, repeating the motion he would do inside her.

"It's about to come out, Gwen," he gasped as she pushed him over the edge.

She caught the first bit in her mouth before she quickly raised up to watch the rest of his cum burst out. Some landed on her hand while the rest fell in thick drops on her thigh. She licked her lips and swallowed the saltiness he had left in her mouth. It tasted a little bit like the heady scent of his skin. His cock was flexing happily in her hand as the pleasure continued to play through it.

"Wow, that was more than I was expecting. It tastes nice," she confessed.

"You like how I taste?" he asked in disbelief.

"Sorry. Am I grossing you out?"

"No, not exactly."

She looked at him with an eyebrow raised after that.

"Did you enjoy getting it in my mouth?" she asked with a smirk.

"I um... I did," he confessed.

"I see. Maybe next time you can put it all in my mouth. Would you enjoy that?" she asked as she stroked him. He hadn't lost any stiffness yet.

"That would be nice, but I would rather do it inside you right now."

"I would enjoy that too," she said as she pulled him closer, using his cock as a handle.

He laughed as he climbed between her legs and pinned her under him. He quickly guided his tip against her aroused cunt and pushed inside her. She gasped in pleasure from the fast penetration.

"Do it hard, Aron. I love feeling your strength," she whispered against his lips before she kissed him.

She broke off the kiss to gasp a second later as he began fucking her feverishly fast.

"Oh God," she panted as he plowed through her tight muscles.

His vigorous thrusting was maddeningly good. It was shaking her body and the bed. She didn't know a man could move his hips like that. He had her trembling with orgasm in less than a minute. He felt her body tense with pleasure, and it helped him hit oblivion again a few seconds later. He groaned and shuddered as he worked them both through the exhausting muscle spasms. Then he melted against her soft body, completely spent and covered in sweat.

"By the Divine, Aron. How do you move like that? That had to be witchcraft," she chuckled, causing him to burst out laughing.

"Nah, that's just a skill I didn't know I had," he sighed.

"Very impressive. Let's climb under the blanket before I fall asleep under you," she yawned, causing Aron to yawn soon after. They snuggled close under the fur blanket and drifted off a minute later.

Gwen slowly woke the next morning when she felt someone playing with her hair. She smiled as she looked to her right to see Aron fast asleep with his hands under the blanket. He wasn't the one playing with her hair. She gasped, and her head snapped to the left to discover Dirk leaning over her, grinning. He clamped his good hand over her mouth before she could get a scream out. Her right hand quickly punched Aron in the side, startling him awake. He shot up only to be grabbed and hauled out of bed by two burly men. The room was full of strangers, and that sent Gwen into survival mode.

She bit Dirk's hand, causing him to cry out and jerk it away. She slung her feet off the bed and kicked him in the nuts, sending him straight to the floor. She jumped over him and scrambled into the bathroom as one of the large strangers dived to catch her. He crashed into the bathroom door as she slammed it in his face. She locked the door, rushed to the window, and yanked it open. The room was on the second floor, but she knew she could safely make the jump. If she could escape, she could find a way to rescue Aron.

She was halfway out the window when she heard the door smashed open behind her. She quickly let go of the sill, ready to fall to freedom, but her pursuer grabbed her hair and hauled her back in. She cried out in pain as she fell backward into the bathroom. She splashed right into the cold bathwater from the previous day. The friged water stole her scream and turned it into a sharp gasp. Her pursuer let out a hearty laugh as he dragged her out of the tub and pulled her back into the bedroom, dripping like a drowned cat.

"For fuck's sake, Guinevere! Stop acting like a psychotic bitch!" Dirk spat from his fetal position on the floor.

"Don't call me that!" she spat back before she kicked him in the ass, causing a burst of laughter from the men in the room.

Gwen steadied herself and looked up in astonishment. The room wasn't nearly as full as she first thought. Two large men with short beards and long hair were restraining Aron. They had his arms twisted behind his back in an uncomfortable-looking way. Aron was tall, but he looked very young next to the men holding him. Gwen had heard of Vikings, and she was convinced she was seeing two of them at that moment. She glanced over her shoulder and met the dark, brooding gaze of the third stranger. The man holding her was just as large as his comrades, but he strongly resembled Dirk with his black hair and dark olive skin. He was definitely more handsome than Dirk, she thought.

"Who are you people?" she half shrieked.

"Why didn't you ask that before you kicked me?" Dirk groaned as he pulled himself onto the edge of the bed. It was hard enough moving around with his injured arm. It was border-line torture getting kicked in the nuts and falling on the floor on top of it.

"That's a fiery lass you snagged there, Dirk," laughed the red-haired man to Aron's left. "Is she the one wanting to become a pentacle?"

"She'd make a fine hellcat. That's for sure," Dirk snorted as he scowled at Gwen.

"Allow me to assess the situation, brother," sighed the man holding Gwen's arm. "Judging by the sigil on the boy's chest and the fact that he was sleeping with a hellcat, I would say he already made himself a pentacle," he cackled, prompting more laughter from the other men.

"Can you dumb-arses act serious for two seconds? You're embarrassing me," Dirk complained.

"You did that by yourself, Dirk. The hellcat-in-training crippled you twice in a week!" sputtered the blonde to Aron's right.

Aron and Gwen exchanged confused looks as the large men continued to poke fun of each other.

"For fuck's sake, guys, can we get on with this? I need some breakfast and some whiskey," Dirk groaned as he held his throbbing arm.

"Sure thing, brother," laughed the dark-haired man. "My name is Trenton. My friends call me Trent. Goldilocks there is called Lance, and the strawberry-top is Hector. We are Pentacle Knights. So is Dirk, but we're not claiming him at the moment."

"Fuck off, Trent," he muttered.

"Aye, always a grumpy lad," Hector sighed as he shook his head at Dirk. "Now, back to business. Dirk informed us of your desire to become a fellow pentacle, young Aron. You made a fine step in that direction by defecting from The Holy Order and bedding that soaked hellcat. We're not having any virgins in our midst. That there is shameful behavior for a man or a woman, denying themselves their natural calling. Speaking of such, Guinevere's soaking wet nakedness is causing an ache in my pants. Would you mind making yourself less alluring before I continue?"

Gwen blushed furiously as she pulled away from Trent. She pushed Dirk off the blanket so she could wrap it around herself. She was shaking with fright and cold as she stepped over to the hearth and sat on the rug beside it. Hector nodded in approval before he shoved Aron over to the hearth and sat him down next to Gwen.

"Don't be trying anything funny now, young Aron. You either, Guinevere," Hector warned. "I don't want to slam anyone's head into the wall, but I will if the need arises."

Gwen and Aron watched as Hector and Lance removed their impressive weapons from their backs before they sat in the comfy armchairs in front of them. Hector carried a broadsword while Lance wore a double ax similar to Aron's ax. Trent wore a sword and a light ax behind his broad shoulders. He walked over to the bed and sat next to his brother to check his arm. Aron was impressed with the men's armor. It was different from Dirk's simple leathers. Hector, Lance, and Trent's attire was a mix of dark, hardened leather lined with chain mail. The quality was royal grade like the Paladin Generals wore. Luxurious furs lined the interior of the armor, making it warm and comfortable.

"Before we get started, Dirk, would you mind running down and putting in a breakfast order for everyone? Tell the kitchen staff to bring up some coffee and tea as well. Put it on The Sect's tab, if you don't mind," Hector ordered.

"For rutting fucking sake, Hector. I'm not an errand boy," Dirk spat.

"You're banged up and useless with a weapon at the moment, so go be useful in other ways, please," he retorted.

"Sure thing, boss," Dirk grumbled as he stood and gave Hector a smart-ass bow before he sauntered out of the door.

"I'll go babysit. Don't want him pissing off the locals and getting in another fight," Trent sighed before he followed after his brother.

"Sorry about that. Dirk isn't usually such an arse. Being injured brought out his finer qualities," Hector said with a charming smile as his gaze settled on Gwen.

His eyes were just as blue and charming as Aron's. Lance's eyes were a bright gray and shined in his handsome face. She blushed when she realized both of the Viking men were staring at her. She scooted closer to her paladin, and he sensed her discomfort, so he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer.

"You're lucky Dirk found you before The Order spies," Lance began as he turned his piercing gaze on Aron. "They would have crucified you on the lawn of this fine establishment, not paid for your rooms and breakfast like we did," he said with a grin.

"Oh, thank you, honorable knights," Aron said as he bowed his head to Lance and Hector. They burst out laughing at him for it.

"God damn, Hector," Lance sputtered. "I would swear he was a virgin had we not found him in bed with Guinevere here," he laughed.

"Please stop calling me that," she interrupted. "My name is Gwen Avery, not Guinevere. Dirk misheard my name and started calling me that by accident."

"Oh, forgive us for our comrade's mistake, Gwen. We meant no harm by it," Hector declared.

"It's fine. Thank you," she whispered.

"She does remind me of our late Lady Guinevere," Lance mused as he leaned forward to examine Gwen's large hazel eyes. "She bears a striking resemblance to that painting of her majesty in the dining hall of the keep."

"She does at that," Hector agreed as he leaned closer for a better look. "I see it in her eyes and chin, but we all know our lady was barren. Our Lady's White Knight gave her no sons or daughters, but his offspring by Lady Elaine has given us plenty of grief."

"What are you talking about?" Gwen asked.

"Galahad," Aron sighed, shaking his head. "That pompous ass makes General Barn and Cleric Renal look like uncouth heathens. He's definitely righteous for righteous' sake."

"Galahad is our king?" she asked in confusion.

"No, Gwen, His Majesty Constantine is. How can you not know that?" Aron asked in disbelief as he touched her pale cheek.

"Is she not right in the head?" Lance asked a little rudely.

Gwen looked at the brooding blonde with an insulted scowl on her face.

"What is it to you if I'm not right in the head?" she snapped.

"No offense, Lady Gwen, but if you want to be a warrior among us, you need to be right in the head," he said plainly.

"Women can be Pentacle Knights?" Aron asked in amazement.

"That they can," Hector added with a nod. "They're called Hellcat Knights. They're an honored branch of The Dark Sect."

"Wow," Aron breathed in amazement. "No wonder The Holy Order hates The Dark Sect. You're opposites to them in every way."

"In a lot of ways, we are," Lance agreed as he pulled his long, braided ponytail over his shoulder and showed it to Aron and Gwen. It looked like a shiny golden rope. "The Holy Order forces their recruits to keep their finery cropped short like young Aron here. Pentacle Knights can wear their hair and beards however they like. Long hair is a sign of slatternly morals among paladins, but pentacles wear it proudly."

"Is it not dangerous for a warrior to keep long hair?" Aron asked. "Might the enemy grab it when your back is turned?"

"If you're a shat warrior, I would imagine that would be a problem," Hector said as he pulled his shiny red braid over his shoulder so everyone could admire it. "But a good warrior has no problem keeping hair gropers at bay. Also, women like pretty hair just as much as men. Pentacles strive to be attractive to the fairer sex since women are irreplaceable elements in The Dark Sect," he explained as he and Lance bowed their heads in respect to Gwen.

The simple gesture made Gwen smile in spite of her upsetting morning. Her smile made Aron smile. It thrilled his heart when she was pleased with something. That alone reinforced his desire to join The Dark Sect.

"How do I become a Pentacle Knight?" he asked as he looked between the Viking men.

Lance and Hector smiled as they exchanged approving glances.

"You're already more than halfway there, Aron," Hector continued. "We consider defecting paladins to be comrades since you willingly made yourself an enemy of The Holy Order. As soon as Dirk caught wind of your story in Canton, he set out to find you. Dirk may be lacking in upper body strength compared to us, but he's a damn fine tracker and deadly with a crossbow. You proved your worth even more by subduing him, with the help of your hellcat, of course. Then you showed Dirk mercy above all else. You're already well trained and conduct yourself in a respectable manner. It's a crying shame The Holy Order leans so heavily on religious tradition instead of recognizing genuinely benevolent folks. From what Dirk told us, you defeated five of Lord Mordred's Devil Beasts alone. That was a great feat of strength. As far as I'm concerned, you're already one of us, and so is Gwen, but we do have traditions to uphold. We can't ignore the heart and soul of our organization. There is more to building a family than having a common enemy."

At that point, Dirk and Trent returned with two kitchen hands in tow. The young waiters were carrying large wooden trays stacked with food and drinks. They pulled the small corner table over to the hearth and laid out the food where everyone could reach it before they bowed out. The feast consisted of fried eggs, fresh sausage, bacon, toasted rye bread, and sweet rolls covered in fresh butter. There was also a smaller tray filled with toasted garden vegetables, soft and hard cheeses, and a variety of fruit preserves.

"Mmm, Marigold has the finest goat cheese in the realm," Trent announced as he enjoyed a piece of toast covered in the soft cheese.

"I love their coffee and cream," Aron declared as he poured himself a second cup.

"We keep a healthy supply of it at Star Keep in Brigdon," Hector added. "As a Pentacle Knight, you and your family will have full access to the keep's luxuries if you choose to live among us. A Pentacle Knight of The Keep is the highest position of authority within The Dark Sect. We're simply known as Keepers, and we want you to join us, Aron," he said with a smile.

Aron's mouth dropped open as he looked at Hector in astonishment. Then he glanced at Gwen to see her staring at Hector with wide eyes as well.

"You want me to be a general?" Aron half-choked before he took a sip of his coffee to wash down his toast.

"Not exactly," Lance added. "We don't have clerics and generals like The Holy Order. A Keeper is as high as you can get in The Dark Sect. We are the heart and soul of our organization, and there are usually five of us. Sadly, Keeper William crossed into the spiritual plain over a year ago. He was mortally wounded in a secret campaign against Mordred's wolf riders."

Aron almost dropped his coffee when he heard that.

"You secretly help The Order against the warlord?" he blurted.

"Of course!" Dirk snorted as if it were obvious. "We would openly help The Order if they hadn't declared us unfit to be allies. Now we help the stuck-up bastards in secret. Our organization is only a quarter of the size of The Holy Order, but I'd say we're two hundred percent more effective because we act like humans. Our true goal is to protect the citizens of the realm from arse-holes like Mordred. Unlike The Holy Order, we know how to swallow our pride and do what's best for everyone. I'm sure you noticed the king's reluctance to declare us unfit for his service. We're not allies or enemies of the royal military. That allows His Majesty to call on us for assistance if needed, but he won't call if The Holy Order is already involved. Cleric Renal doesn't want his innocent paladins mixing with our lot. They would all defect on the spot!" he laughed, immediately causing him to grimace and grab his injured arm.