Rise of a New Order

Finally, after three days of sleepless travel, we crested the final hill and beheld the mighty stone walls of our fortress. Gleaming slabs of white rock, the Order's bulwark against the evils of the world shone bright in the midday sun. Hewn from the surrounding hills countless generations ago by the founders and expanded over many centuries, the great castle dominated the green valley in which it sat.

We rode on through the bustling town that hugged the perimeter keep. Those who made a living catering to the needs of the Order made their home here and benefited from our protection. I kept my head down, not meeting anyone's eye for fear of glimpsing Khadila amongst the crowds. I breathed a sigh of relief as we passed under the great stone gate.

We were finally home.

Act II - Revolution

The three of us knelt before the grand altar to receive our commendations. Our brothers had swiftly assembled in the sweltering great hall to receive us, wasting no time since our return and hasty debriefing. The customary ceremony for returning warriors was not to be delayed.

The venerable High Priest leaned heavily on his staff as he addressed the gathered knights and clergymen. On his other side he was supported by his young assistant. High Priest Adrian had been leading the order when I was but a child, and he had not been a young man then either. What remained of his fire-red hair had long since turned to a dull grey.

Looking down on all those assembled were the great silhouettes of the Three, the high noon sun blasting through the stained-glass windows bearing their visage behind the alter. Kneeling in full plate armour, the heat was almost unbearable. The sweat-soaked under-shirt stuck to my clammy skin, hugging tightly to my chest as if I had simply outgrown the garment. My shoulder still ached where the acolyte's dagger had pierced my skin.

The fatigue of battle and the sleepless journey was finally catching up with me. I longed to return to my bedchamber and rest, but the elderly priest was in no hurry. His fragile voice meandered through the great hall, oblivious to my discomfort. I knew I should appreciate the speech being given in our honour, but I struggled just to keep my eyes open.

I looked sideways at Alfonse, intending to share a resigned grimace at our mutual suffering in this heat. But he was alert and attentive to the priest's every word and did not notice my glance. No sign of discomfort showed on his face, not even a bead of sweat. Was it just me? Had I a fever?

'These three heroes of the Order: Alfonse Demute, Pedro Cortez, Richard Gallfrey, each embody the traits of the Three that our Order holds most dear. Faith, Courage, Determination.'

"Richard... Gallfrey..."

A cold shiver whispered through me.

'Many of our brothers fell this day in carrying out their grim duty, part of our continuing mission to purge evil from this world. But know this - from Heaven they are watching us now, surrounded by all those who followed the Three in life...'

The priest's voice drifted away as my head began to spin, the room shifting before my eyes. Vertigo set in as I felt I was flying backwards at great speed. Muffled silence settled over me, as though my head was smothered by some heavy cloth.

I must have passed out, for when I awoke I had been laid out upon on a comfortable four-poster bed and dressed in my night clothes. My fever was gone. Had I been carried to the healing quarters? Sitting up, I looked around the unfamiliar chamber, taking in the opulent hangings and embroidered carpets that signified a wealth and prestige beyond anything I was accustomed to. I frowned. Where was this place? Surely there was no chamber so richly appointed in the keep.

'Hello?' I called loudly. 'Is anyone here?'

The curtain twitched aside and my eyes widened as a veiled woman slipped into the room. No woman were permitted within the walls of the citadel, not even servants!

'Who are you?' I demanded, but the lady made no reply as she shuffled across the room towards my bed, head bent deferentially. She was dressed in a long, formless black robe, and wore a white coif on her head with the veil lowered to hide her face.

A dim memory surfaced. Could this be a Sister from the neighbouring cloister? If that was where I found myself, if I had been taken to them for healing, then that was no small journey. A day's hard riding at least. I frowned, struggling to recall how I had arrived here. The woman drew closer, and it was then that I noticed that her robe was bound incorrectly, leaving gaps where folds of fabric should have concealed. Through a parting at her breast I could see she wore scant else below - bronzed skin glowed through what looked like black, semi-transparent lace.

'Who are you?' I demanded again, certain now that this was no true member of the faith. I struggled to rise from the bed but found I could not move.

The woman didn't reply immediately, but made an amused sound that sounded like a giggle.

'Oh, Three forgive me, for I have sinned.' A familiar voice, tinged with mock sorrow. She lifted the veil from her face.

'You!' I cried, my hand flying to my side where instinct told me my sword should be, but finding only empty air.

Khadila grinned, shrugging out of the robe and letting it fall softly to the floor.

I tried to turn away but found I could only stare at her body, adorned in naught but tight black lace that moulded and cupped her supple flesh. Her garments were a mockery of modesty as the soft bronze flesh of her breasts bulged between the black threads that struggled to contain her ample bust.

Khalida twirled, turning and striking a pose, stretching her arms up behind her head, whipping off the coif and arching her back to exaggerate her curvaceous proportions. She glanced at me, and winked. 'What do you think? Isn't this much better than the stuffy, boring clothes that women of your faith are forced to wear?'

'How do you still live?' I growled, stubbornly refusing her attempts to distract me.

'Aren't you happy to see me again, Richard? After we got along so well last time, too.' Khalida feigned disappointment, pouting her lips and planting her hands on her wide hips. 'Your reaction down there says otherwise,' she added, grinning wryly and glancing pointedly at my crotch.

I followed her gaze to find that my night clothes had vanished. Nothing remained to conceal my naked manhood, which now stood upright and fully erect. I groaned, shuddering at the abrupt arousal that burned suddenly in my loins. This wasn't possible. It must be a trial, a test of my faith.

'Enough! You aren't real, this is just a dream. You died back in your temple.' Virtuously ignoring the sinful urges in my groin, I looked back at Khalida. She was gone.

'Mmmhmm... who says dreams can't be real?' Khalida breathed in my ear, even as I felt her slender fingers sliding inexorably down my muscular chest. 'I've learned so much about you since the last time we met. You had me at a disadvantage before, Richard, but this time you're mine.'

Turning my head towards her voice, I found her shapely body pressed against my own. The black lace that had pretended at propriety was gone. Nothing separated the warmth of her bared flesh from my own, her silken smoothness meeting my hairy bulk.

I glimpsed those voluptuous breasts squeezed between us. Those round globes that I had refused to acknowledge while fighting against her magic. The gravity-defying spheres that I had tried so ardently to forget as I rode away victorious.

'NO! This is a sin...!' I tore my eyes from her sinfully sexual body, staring up at the ceiling and trying to purge from my mind the image of the temptress lying next to me. If I had cast off her enchantments once before, I could do it again! Yet, my body refused to obey as I fought to pull away from her. 'I give my life to the service of the Three. I will father no child, take no woman. All I have is for the Three, and the family of the Three are all to me. I give my life to the service of the Three...'

'You... don't want it?' Khalida asked sweetly, already knowing the answer. 'Are you sure?'

I tried to resist. By the Three, I swear I tried. But as her hand slid slowly towards my manhood, as she began to stroke it gently, inexorably, I felt the repressed desires of a lifetime bubbling up inside me. At her touch, a spasm of red hot pleasure thundered through my shaft, travelling from base to tip and back, leaving me gasping for breath.

'You'll accept me, won't you Richard?' the temptress breathed in my ear. She spoke my name like a spell. I felt my resolve wavering. 'Will you let me in, Richard... Gallfrey?'

'Aaargh!' I couldn't help it. My true name had barely passed her lips before my hands were moving on their own, desperately seeking her body. I felt them sink into the softness of her breasts, kneading the yielding flesh that was now my only obsession. Khadila moaned as I explored her body, revelling in the suppleness of her flesh, her buxom chest, lithe belly, my decades of pent-up lust unleashed upon her all at once.

Suddenly she was atop me - as is the strangeness of dreams, one moment we lay side-by-side, the next Khadila was riding my manhood, with no time or memory bridging the two. Cries of womanly lust filled the room as she writhed upon my shaft, her back curved, hips sliding back and forth to thrust again and again, pushing me deep, deep inside her.

Again the scene shifted - now I was on top, towering over her with my hands buried in the softness of her enormous breasts. My fingers closed on the warm flesh, kneading, squeezing, tweaking the dark tips of her nipples. I could feel the quivering sparks of pleasure inside her where our skin touched. Our hips burned together with a frantic desire. Where we joined was a nebulous conflagration of sexual energy, a blending of senses as our desires became one.

'Yasssss,' Khadila hissed as I thrust harder, harder, driving further and further into her most sacred place, seeking the oneness of being that would be the zenith of our copulation. 'Come into me, Richard!'

At her command, the urgent throbbing in my manhood began to build. Higher and higher, an inevitable climax approaching while her moans filled my ears, echoing in my mind as she weaved her sultry magic on me. I could no longer tell where my body ended and hers began, such was the all-consuming frenzy of our combined passions. Our joining was nearly complete.

'Ahh- Ahhh- AHH-' So close. So close! I felt the first pulse of our climax as we both screamed in unison, 'AHHHHH!'

A sharp jab in my recently wounded shoulder jolted me awake. I straightened up, looking around wildly. I was back in the great hall. My cotton wool thoughts could barely keep up with what my eyes were showing me. The ceremony! How long had I been asleep? Alfonse smirked sideways at me. 'Taking a nap, Richard?' he whispered, before turning back to Adrian as he began his blessing.

I blinked my eyes until the after-images of my nightmare faded away. Much time had passed in my dream, but in the real world it appeared only a few moments had gone by. Recalling the subject of those fevered dreams, I shuddered. My cheeks burned with embarrassment and I willed myself to forget. Forget the perfect curves, the smooth skin, the soft flesh, the hot breath, the delicate touch...

It took the greatest mental effort of my life, but I forced myself to attend to the ceremony going on around me. I felt a curious tickling sensation in my chest, but at least the unbearable fever heat had subsided. Except for one place. Studiously ignoring the pleasurable throbbing in my groin, no doubt the product of my ribald dream, I tried to focus on the high priest as he finished presenting Alfonse with his medal and began his slow shuffle towards me. I was thankful for the metal codpiece that concealed my arousal from my brothers.

Following just behind Adrian was his young apprentice, Trafford. A strong lad of around eighteen summers, I remembered him as a child scampering after the elderly priest with that boundless energy exclusive to youth. As the venerable priest grew too weak to conduct his everyday duties, members of the order became accustomed to see Trafford acting in his stead. Having reached the age of manhood, all assumed he would assume a senior role in time, but on this occasion he was still the assistant.

After placing the ribbon gently in the priest's trembling hand, Trafford stepped back as Adrian began his blessing over me. 'Richard Gallfrey. Your bravery and valour in service of the Order are beyond repute. Let this token remind all present of your dedication to our cause, and to the Three. Bear this proudly, knowing thyself to be one of unquestioned loyalty to our family, and know that the Order is dedicated to you also.'

To be so praised for my chivalry in the aftermath of such a vulgar dream. My cheeks flushed once again with embarrassment. Nevertheless, I bowed my head dutifully to accept the commendation. The priest's rheumy hands fumbled at my armour, struggling to pin the ribbon to the ceremonial cloth adorning my breast plate. Inevitably, it slipped from his quivering fingers and fell to the floor.

Trafford was darting forward before I could even think to offer assistance. After attending to the old man for so many years he was naturally well attuned to the priest's needs and thus prepared for such occurrences. He hunkered down in front of me to quickly pin the medal on behalf of the old man. My head bowed, and with him so close, my gaze travelled past his raised arms and naturally fell upon his waist.

He wore the usual attire of the Order's clergy: A white-hemmed robe over a simple shirt and thin cotton pants, as was often favoured by those in the priesthood during the hot summers. The fabric of his pants stretched taut as he stooped, and at this close distance I couldn't help but notice the healthy bulge at his crotch. I hastily looked aside, but a moment later my gaze returned, drawn inexorably to the virile display of manhood this man possessed. Such evidence of his burgeoning masculinity showed his worthiness. His power, his potential to serve me!

Obscene visions flashed unbidden before my eyes: my hands unsheathing that member, tearing apart the cloth that confined his sex. Setting upon it as Khadila had done to me in my dreams, working him to climax at my bidding to bind him to my will.

I squeezed my eyes shut in horror at my own thoughts, but the visions continued unabated. Confused arousal throbbed in my groin as the fiery fever-heat returned to my flesh. A pressure began to build in my chest, followed by the tickling sensation of magic dancing over flesh as the walls of my armour seemed to close in around me. What in the world was wrong with me!?

'Rise, heroes of the Order!' The priest cried, and I staggered to my feet, swaying. My armour was so heavy. Trafford stood once more behind the priest, beaming proudly at us. I dropped my eyes, cheeks burning, unable to meet his earnest gaze lest I see in them the frantic desperation from my vision as I had set upon his manhood.

The rest of the ceremony passed me by in a haze, and as soon as possible I found myself at the edge of the chamber leaning against the wall, still shaking with the feverish heat. I had thought to see the healer about my arm earlier, but now all I could think about now was retiring to my chamber to sleep off this fever.

'You okay, Richard?' asked Alfonse, concern edging his gruff voice. 'You seemed far away during the ceremony.'

I flinched, unaware that Alfonse had come up behind me. 'Sorry, Al. I don't know what came over me.' I put a hand to my face, shaking my head slowly. 'I felt so fatigued of a sudden. The battle must have taken more out of me than I thought.' Meeting his gaze, I attempted a smile that probably looked more like a grimace.

'You did get the worst of it back there, that's for sure.' Alfonse agreed, peering into my face. 'You look terrible. How's your arm? Should I call the healer to take a look at you?'

'NO!' I cried, louder than I intended. Curious heads turned towards us. Where had that intensity come from? I continued in a normal voice. 'No. No need for the healer, I'm just a little tired, is all.'

I wasn't sure why the prospect of the healer examining me was so abhorrent, but right now all I wanted was to escape this crowd and be alone to deal with these thoughts. 'I think I shall retire to my chamber for now, Al. I need some rest.'

'Right.' Alfonse still looked concerned. 'The celebration will surely go on long into the evening, do come down and join us if you feel better. Don't leave me alone to tell the whole of our tale, you know how much I hate that!'

I raised a hand in farewell, before turning away and leaving the bustling hall behind.

The stairs were endless. I dragged myself up them, one by one, fighting the weight of metal hanging from my shoulders. Muscles I had honed for countless years to carry this heavy plate into battle now refused to obey. The fever coursing through my body had robbed it of all strength. All over my skin I could feel that familiar tickling sensation, so similar to the magic our healers employed, yet my strength felt diminished rather than restored.

My chamber was up four narrow flights of stairs from the grand chamber. Four flights of torture as my body burned all over, and my mind began to flood with vulgar images, forbidden acts of debauchery involving those I had left behind downstairs.

Of course I had imagined being with woman once or twice during my life with the Order. No man can remain vigilant at all times, the human body is a natural thing after all. The Order taught that as long as one does not indulge the trappings of the flesh, one can be forgiven the unbidden infidelities of their mind.

But never before had I contemplated performing such acts with my sworn brothers. In the span of a few days my repressed sexuality had been woken anew, straining harder than ever before against the shackles of my hallowed vows, only now to be twisted to focus on my own comrades.

It took an eternity to reach the level of my chamber. I stumbled down the empty corridors, glad that no one else had eschewed the celebrations below to discover me in this mess. My head throbbed. I pressed my hands to my temple, grasping my hair and pressing hard to keep at bay the headache threatening to overwhelm me. Some untainted part of my mind observed that the hair flowing around my fingers was getting a bit long. I should get it trimmed by one of the servants in the morning.

At that moment, I felt some giant invisible hand grab me, squeezing me tightly until my insides writhed and shifted. I gasped as the air was forced from my lungs, while a tingling tension began to build in my chest. I felt dizzy, and would have lost my balance but for the support of the nearby wall. I leaned against the hard stone, panting, waiting for the nausea to pass. But the tingling sensation only intensified. Beneath my breast plate there was a strange warmth, a hot throbbing in my chest while my head echoed with my pounding heartbeat.

'Ayaaah!' The high pitched yelp escaped my mouth, not at all like my usual growl. Without warning, a sharp cold had pierced through the heat suffusing my chest. Like a finger dipped into icy water, or warm flesh against cold metal. It seemed to come from outside my body, suspended in the space between my chest and my armour.

'Ohhhh- Mhmm-' Desperate moans forced their way out from deep inside me as metallic cold warred with the frenzied fever heat of my skin, awakening sensations that until this moment had been just an amorphous warmth in my chest. Now, somehow, I could feel my own burning-hot flesh pressing against the chill metal of my breast-plate. It revealed a throbbing arousal, an ache in my breast that yearned to feel human touch. 'Hhhmm- what... is this feeling?' I gasped as the blissful tingling began to travel across my skin, spreading downwards to my groin. Some deep source of pleasure was emanating from my chest and it only seemed to be growing stronger as it began to course throughout my body.