2 comments/ 13622 views/ 1 favorites An Unusual Job By: Vandren For years, Baron Draieh had been seeking a way to take over the neighboring Duchy of Artal. In order to achieve his desires, he needed a way to capture the territory without Golgoth's king getting involved with his army, though. There were many in the court who thought he'd succeeded when he arranged the marriage of his foppish son, Raek, to Duke Artal's daughter, Ilusial. Waiting for the Duke's death and for his only living heir to inherit, though, was too slow for the impatient Baron. Thus, he sent to the Kae Solune: thieves, spies, assassins. A simple murder would look too suspicious, too convenient. They needed something more creative, so they selected one of their initiates, Kallin, for this unusual task. All of which explained what he was doing crouched in a shadowy corner of the Duke's castle courtyard. He'd chosen his night well and simply needed to wait for the stormclouds above to drop their burden. Once the storm drove the guards indoors, the half-Elf rushed across the only open ground in his way. He folded his lank frame almost double to present a smaller target, just in case any guards happened to be looking outside. Then, he quickly scampered up the wall he'd chosen days before, concealed from the view of the wall towers. Through a window he'd "paid" a serving wench to leave unlatched, and the hardest parts were done. As soon as Kallin was sure the coast was clear, he ducked out of the third floor storeroom, turned left, and covered the thirty paces which brought him within spitting distance of the Duchess-to-be's chambers. Instinctively eager, yet habitually cautious, Kallin paused at the door and brushed a stray lock of wavy blonde hair from his face. A pair of tool appeared in his hands. With them, he quickly dispensed with the ridiculously simple lock and shut the door, barring it with a murmured spell. A second spell cast a pall of absolute silence over the room. He didn't need the girl waking and calling down the guards afterall. If that happened, his whole mission would be for naught. Even with his spell working, Kallin kept his awkward looking toe-heel gliding step, one which made little enough noise in the worse of circumstances. Only then did the Kae Solune look around the richly appointed rooms to spot his target. Her rather large bed dominated the room, and it seemed to Kallin's night trained eye that she was soundly asleep in the center of it. His rather simple spell working perfectly, he moved noiselessly across the room and threw back the covers. The willowy, pale, young woman (Kallin judged her to be between eighteen and twenty, a bit old for a betrothed), rolled over and curled up at the sudden chill. As she did so, the intruder realized that his job was suddenly simpler, for she slept in the nude. The moonlight cast upon her pale flesh. As the cone of minimal light crept slowly across her body, the growing pebbliness of her now exposed nipples confirmed this fact of her nudity. Already, the Shadow felt his body stirring, telling him that this assignment could be equally mixed with enjoyment. Even as these observations ran through his mind, Kallin's eyes traveled the length of her trim body, from golden hair to firm pale breasts, slightly rounded belly to shapely calves, and back up again. His pants and belt made no sound as they hit the floor. He needed to get on with his mission before his spell wore off. Taking hold of Ilusial's shoulder, he rolled her onto her back. She woke almost instantly, but Kallin was already climbing between her sprawled legs. Her first instinct followed, the girl's full luscious lips parted in a soundless scream. Her assailant smiled at her confusion as he covered her breasts with his hands. A perfect handful, not too large or too small. This would be a pleasurable job afterall, he thought. And he wanted to make it enjoyable for her too, despite the throbbing erection that urged him to do otherwise. Afterall, he had never left a partner unsatisfied, to the best of his knowledge. Despite the fact that this was an assignment, Kallin refused to put a blemish on his 'record.' She started struggling, ineffectually slapping at his chest and arms. The whole scene eerily silent. So, Kallin grabbed her wrists and pinned them to the bed, over her head, with one hand. He bore down on her hips with his own at the same moment. Pleased that she still tried to fight, the thief-assassin kneaded the firm mound in his hand. He ground the underside ridge of his manhood against her groin as he bent to lick circles around the pebbled areola of her other breast. Despite her struggles, he felt her body responding to each touch and movement he made. After a few moments, he switched hands and breasts as her struggles grew weaker. She was, he knew, giving in to the pleasurable feelings stirring at her very core. Either that or she was running out of breath and realizing that her struggles were useless. The half-Elf could feel the duchess' dampening slit against his shaft. It seemed that his first guess was closest, even if it might not be completely true. Yes, he thought, she was ready enough. He pressed his lips to her's and shifted slightly. Once Kallin felt the head of his member part her nether lips, he thrust forward, pushing past her maidenhead in one motion. He saw her wince at the pain and knew she would scream if his tongue had not been exploring her mouth. Even without his spell, the sound would have been muffled, it probably would not alert any guards or servants. Since he was being kind, after a fashion, Kallin paused, suckling at her perfect tits for a few moments to let her recently virgin hole adjust to his invasion and partially alleviate her brief moment of pain. The half-breed was surprised when the noblewoman started experimentally moving her pelvis first. His surprise grew as she started inexpertly flexing muscles around his shaft. Letting out a silent groan, Kallin took both of Ilusial's wrists in his hands and bore down on her. Within seconds, he was thrusting in and out of her slick canal. The man lifted himself up slightly to watch her breasts bounce with each thrust. It was that sight, combined with her tight inner walls and gorgeous body that drove him on. Soon, he was pounding in and out of her so fast that he was panting for breath and her head was thrown back. The training necessary for his line of work allowed a detached part of his mind to notice Ilusial's mouth working. Had it not been for his spell, he knew he'd be hearing her screaming and moaning at the moment. Gods, the same part of his mind thought, he loved this job, at least this time. He could feel her juices flowing around his shaft with each thrust, her newly exercised inner muscles gripping at his erection, trying to keep the organ buried inside her. While she was certainly not his first virgin, she was definitely his most exciting one. A few heartbeats later, Kallin buried the whole length of his shaft in Ilusial's wet depths. Almost instantly, he felt a series of spasms travel through the organ, shooting streams of his seed into the woman. This set off her own orgasm, he thought, as her body started shuddering and bucking beneath him. The instant he felt the last bit of his semen spent, Kallin slipped out of her slick depths. Without a second glance her way, he dressed and vaulted out the window to make his escape. He never saw her final look, whether it was anger, love, or lust, nor her final reaction to his intrusion and theft of her virginity. Somehow, the hardened thief didn't think he could bear looking back and seeing fear, anger, or condemnation in her eyes. Why that was the case, he wasn't sure. Shaking the thought away, Kallin made his swift exit from the room, locking the door behind him. In a couple weeks, Kallin reflected as he retraced his steps to the room he'd entered the castle, Baron Draieh would have his war. Either the wedding would occur and Ilusial would be found to be less that virginal (and accusations would fly, leading to insult and war) or, if his seed took root, she would become pregnant and the marriage contract would be broken. He started rappelling down the wall. Either way, the Duke would be disgraced and the king would avoid aiding him in war. Which was exactly what Draieh wanted. So, the Kae Solune's reputation would grow, both for ingenuity and completing their jobs efficiently. Whatever happened in Draieh's machinations, Kallin resolved to keep his eyes and ears open for what became of the girl. A small tiny spot he'd thought long beaten out of him by his early life with the Shadow Demons did feel pity for the girl-turned-woman valued not as a daughter, but as a playing piece in the kingdom's political games. Even though the Shadows did not admit women to their ranks, the majority did have a certain degree of respect . . . at least enough that one could bear some desire to assist one who had been made to fall through no fault of her own. An Unusual Job – Aftermath A mere month after his job for Baron Draieh, Kallin heard that the lord was invading the neighboring duchy. Immediately, he kept his contacts busy looking for Artal's daughter. Which was what brought the Kae Solune to a nameless village in the middle of nowhere, north of the duchy. He had been in the tiny settlement for two days, posing as a traveling pilgrim. Much of that time he had spent at the local tavern, feeling out the locals. They told him of a newcomer, a witch woman from the south, who'd taken over an abandoned hut an hour's walk east. On his third morning, Kallin found himself walking along an overgrown trail hoping for he knew not what. According to an old acquaintance who owed him a few favors, this could be the girl he sought. Even so, this close to the border of Aldwin, the neighboring magocracy, the village story gained some weight of truth. By the time the Kae Solune reached sight of the rundown, and poorly repaired, hovel, he still hadn't made up his mind. If he found Ilusial, he could offer her a life. She would no know he had been the one who'd ruined her old life. Or, he could just turn around and walk away. The woods and fields weren't his element, but no one would know he'd been to the hut. All those thoughts fled Kallin's mind when the inhabitant of the home emerged. He only caught a brief glimpse before she was out of sight around the corner of the dwelling. She was dirtier and more haggard than he remembered, but she was definitely Ilusial. He would swear to that by the Solune himself. Without conscious thought, Kallin stole across the intervening ground toward the hut. It was bare and practically empty. The only furnishing was a rickety chair that the thief wouldn't trust with his weight, normally. Now, he tentatively, gingerly, rested himself on its three wobbly legs, feeling the old wood of the seat sag noticeably. He only had to wait a few moments before Ilusial returned. She paused for a heartbeat in the doorway, reaching for a makeshift club. Kallin mentally winced, she was a perfect target, outlined by sunlight in the doorway. A throwing knife was in his hand before her's was halfway to her pseudo-weapon. "If I wished to harm you," he said conversationally, "you would be dead now, my dear. Now, please keep your hands away from the club and hear me out." The woman said nothing, but she moved away from the stick. His knife vanished as quickly as it had appeared. He smiled and gestured at the simple room. "This is your's? No need to speak, just yet." She nodded. "You are Ilusial, daughter of Duke Artal," Kallin continued. He watched as the woman slumped. He was right. That thought was confirmed as she started sobbing. "Yes, I was his daughter," Ilusial said between small, mournful, sounds, "once. Cast out and disowned. He's sent you to kill me, hasn't he? To wipe away his shame? Or Draieh has? To gain vengeance for . . . being insulted so?" The Kae Solune shook his head. "No, Ilusial, not at all. Quite the opposite, really." Smiling, still, Kallin rose and walked over to the former noblewoman. He wrapped his arms around her unresisting shoulders, drawing her close. "I wish to offer you a new life, not as good as your old one, but better than this," he whispered. Ilusial stiffened in his arms. He felt her shake her head against his shoulder. But, her denial felt weak, hollow, to one experienced in his brotherhood's mysteries. Kallin asked, "You would rather remain in such squalor? You who knew the luxury of a ducal court?" Again he felt her shake her head against his shoulder. Knowing he'd convinced her already, Kallin gently stroked her back to calm her. "It's alright, Ilusial," he whispered, pressing his lips to the top of her head, "Just relax and let the gods help you, through me." The former noble nodded against his chest, then. Her arms snaked around his waist, clinging to solidity, something similar to her old life. As Kallin tilted her head back, brushing his lips against her forehead and eyelids, she practically melted against him. A moment later, their lips met once, tentatively. Then a second time, with greater assurance, as his arms tightened around her. It didn't take long for Ilusial's simple shift to slither down her body to the floor. As each inch of her flesh was bared, Kallin's lips followed the rough homespun. He laved a trail of kisses down her throat, to her collarbone, to her shoulders. Resting his hands on Ilusial's hips, the thief pressed his lips to the upper swell of each of her breasts, then to the valley between those glorious mounds. He whispered, "Absolutely lovely, milady. Stunning." On his knees, he circled Ilusial's pale pink aureolae with his tongue before sucking one stiffening, pebbly, peak between his lips. A sharp gasp escaped her lips as Kallin began to lightly suck on her nipple. Both of her hands tangled in his hair, pressing his head against her breast. His hands came down to cup and kneed her firm buttocks, then. Slowly, he moved downward, trailing kisses over her ribs. Another gasp came from Ilusial as the tip of Kallin's tongue circled her navel. Then, he began to work his way back upward, retracing his path. Eventually, their lips remet and the thief's clothing and gear started falling to the floor of the hut. His partner's eyes widened and her breath caught in her throat as Kallin's erect flesh was released to touch her bare skin. As the couple continued to explore each other, Ilusial led Kallin inch by inch into a corner of the hut occupied by a pallet. Gently, the thief lowered the noblewoman to the rude bed. He lay on his side against her, his arm around her shoulders. Their lips still pressed together, Kallin slid his free hand up her smooth thigh, to her hip. He traced her belly and ribs with the feather-light touch of his fingertips before finally covering Ilusial's breast with his hand. While their tongues twined together, Kallin kneaded her breast, his palm rubbing her sensitive nipple. All of which elicited soft moans of pleasure from Ilusial. Hugging her close, he released her breast and drew his hand down her body. It slid over the outside of her thigh and his fingers danced their way back up her inner thigh. Almost immediately, Kallin felt her dampening arousal. Once he was assured of her readiness, the thief rolled atop his partner. He supported most of his weight on his arms and legs, in deference to her size. Instinctively, her pelvis ground against his as a loud moan of desire passed her lips. Kallin bent to suckle at the noblewoman's breast, rubbing his tongue across her nipple, as he ever so gently pressed the head of his phallus between the folds of her nether lips. Her body accepted his intrusion, her slick canal practically absorbing his whole length with ease. After holding still to let her body adjust, Kallin continued caressing Ilusial's arms, sides, and thighs. He wrapped her legs around his waist, to spread her wider. Then, the thief started slowly thrusting his member in and out of her slit. Each stroke was long and slow to tease her. In response to her silent entreaty, though, he quickly sped up until he was pounding in and out of her body. To Kallin's surprise, she began to shudder beneath him after a couple heartbeats. A few more after that and he felt all the muscles in his shaft contract, expand, and continue rippling, filling her with his seed. A few wind down thrusts later, Kallin collapsed in her arms, holding Ilusial close. He listened to her heartbeat as her shuddering breath matched his own. Slowly both hearts and breaths returned to normal as they relaxed and recovered. Two hours later, the pair were on the road heading west toward Kallin's home . . . (Author's Note: This story is told from Kallin's recollections. There are, obviously, a few gaps, due to this perspective. :) ) (Author's Note 2: If you feel that this story deserves something less than a 5 rating, please leave comments on how to improve the story so it'll be a 5. Thanks.) An Unusual Job – Botched Special Thanks to Ran57gr for coming up with Shautha's name. _________________________ Kallin stood in the middle of the rapidly emptying street watching the clouds expand across the sky. The low dark invaders held the promise of rain. Secretly, he hoped it would be a broken promise. In a couple hours, the Kae Solune would have to go to work. While he could work in the rain, it was more comfortable not having to. There were more chances to slip up in the rain. And, if he slipped, a good month's worth of preparation and several favours would have been spent for nothing. He really did not want to mess up this job. It was probably the most important assignment of his life. Kallin had been chosen to punish a deserter. A minor ranked Internalist who decided to strike out on his own, repudiating the brotherhood. That could not be allowed. Even as a fairly recent Internalist initiate, the man had learned enough of the Shadows' secrets to be dangerous. Not that there were many who would believe that an Orcish refugee from Thrahir was truly a Kae Solune. Still, all it took was one. And a rogue who went unpunished would only lead others to believe they could get away with forsaking their vows. Coming back to himself with a start, Kallin looked over the inn across the street again. His ex-brother had chosen well enough. It was on the high end of average, normal enough to be non-descript, good enough to have real locks and glass. Otherwise, The Tree, as the locals called it, was the kind of place any well-off caravaneer would spend his time in the capital. The Kae Solune let his vision slip ever so slightly out of focus for a moment. The place was not up-scale enough to have a staff mage or to pay for wards. Satisfied, Kallin refocused on the door. Nothing had changed in the last three days. Tonight would be his time to move in and complete the job. Pleased with his plan, the thief-executioner finished his drink, rose, and left for the place he'd rented for the night. A few hours later, Kallin made the rounds at a few taverns in the city. He bought drinks for some people, barely touched his own, and moved on to the next. At the seventh, he bought five rounds for everyone in the house. Once the place became mildly chaotic, he murmured a simple spell and slipped out of the pub. Come morning, they'd all remember him, but would all recall that he left at a different time. That, he felt, should cover his tracks sufficiently. Outside, he stripped down to his black working leathers, fitted with sheathes for knives, stars, and other useful tools both mundane and mystical. Before taking off, Kallin checked the pair of long knives, barely too short to be swords, strapped to his back. He'd left his favourite sword behind due to the confines of this job. Its length would only befoul it in an inn room. Satisfied, he paused a moment, touched his internal spring of magical energy, wove some of it into the pattern he wanted, and practically walked up the wall opposite the tavern. The executioner-thief considered his plan as he crossed the city via the rooftops. Since his target was part of the Kae Solune's Internalist faction, Kallin knew he stood little chance in a hand-to-hand fight. And he would have to avoid using his repertoire of spells directly against the man, no telling how resistant he'd become. No, his best bet was to sneak in without alerting the target, then a knife across the throat or to the heart. No poison, Internalists could sometimes resist that. And it would have to be an instant death strike, many Internalists could heal themselves inhumanly swiftly. A simple spell would silence the window and open it from afar. Then a second to glide silently into the room. Finally, both blades, one to the throat, the other up between the ribs to get the lung and heart. It sounded simple, but Kallin assumed there would be complications. His target was a fellow Shadow, afterall. This line of thought brought him within sight of the Tree. He let his vision shift slightly once more, allowing his body to rest. In that other state, Kallin still saw no sign of the telltale energy indicating magical wards. Not that there were many Internalists who would trust magic, though a novice might. He slipped back to normal sight and looked around the street and alley below. There was no sign of anyone who might see him. Which was how things should be. Another rooftop, a leap across a narrow alley, and a quick spell to let him cling to the wall brought Kallin to his target's window. He checked for magical alarms one last time as he looked for mundane locks and measures. Just a simple latch, nothing difficult. A short, very thin bladed knife appeared in the executioner's hand. He carefully worked it between the frame and the casement, whispered a single word to silence the latch, and eased the metal hook over. The window swung silently open as Kallin vaulted over the sill. His eyes, opened wide as a cat's, were already searching the dark room as he sailed in. The moment his shoulders crossed into the room, however, a flare of light bright as a dozen blue suns blinded the Kae Solune. He fell to the floor, instinctively rolling into a ball to land, jarring his shoulder hard in the process. Between the sharp flash of pain and the sudden blindness, Kallin momentarily forgot where he was. Only luck kept him alive long enough to regain his senses . . . once he did, he mouthed a silent oath to Vosh. Somehow the rogue had gotten himself a mage who could not only se up an intricate ward but could also conceal it extremely well. As the thought occurred to the Shadow, he was already rolling to his feet. His target, a wiry short, stringy haired Orc, was already moving in with a short heavy blade in an overhand swing. Kallin barely managed to free one of his long guard-less daggers, meeting the other with a loud clang that traveled up his arm. That limb aching from the shock, he turned the parry into a lunging riposte, driving the point of his blade at his opponent. The motion's momentum also pulled Kallin back to his feet. The Orc batted away the clumsy lunge easily and dropped back a step. Both Shadows silently eyed each other in the darkness. They circled, blade points roughly eye level, bodies slightly turned to the side. As feeling slowly returned to his right arm, with a pins and needles sensation, Kallin considered going for one of his flat throwing knives as a distraction or one of his longer daggers to parry with. The Orc grinned, revealing his tusk-like incisors and made a small gesture that filled the room with a soft candlelight. He gave a harsh laugh as Kallin's expression momentarily betrayed his bewilderment. "Who did you anger, brother," he asked, in a surprisingly cultured voice, "They told you I was a novice Internalist?" Kallin refused to reply. He was intent on finding a hole in he rogue's guard, though his shoulders tightened in anger when the Orc called him brother. "They didn't tell you who I am, did they? They wouldn't," the rogue continued, "You should've guessed by now. This is a suicide job . . . brother." While they circled in the small space, Kallin decided on one of the longer daggers. He kept his other blade weaving and dipping, its point always directed toward the Orc's throat. His opponent did the same, or close enough. Neither length of steel touched the other, both Shadows feinted and twisted, feeling each other out. Meanwhile, Kallin kept an eye on the rogue, on how his heavier weapon moved and the stances he took. They mirrored Kallin's own almost perfectly. Even without the Orc's spell use, that told his the man was an Externalist. And he'd only heard of one Orc ever being admitted to their ranks. Then his dagger swept down in an arc to intercept the Orc's upswing, which became a lunging thrust that Kallin barely deflected with his off-hand dagger. He skipped back as the gleaming edge slid across his outer thigh, drawing blood. It could have been more serious. He'd dropped his guard for a heartbeat and fallen for the feint. The move gave him more evidence. Kallin heard the Orc chuckle as they both recovered. He realized he must have given something away and quickly schooled his face to a calm mask, betraying nothing more. The cultured voice said, "Yes, you understand, brother, I am Shautha." Third highest of the Externalist faction and left hand of the Solune himself, Kallin added the titles silently. There were rumors that Shautha aspired to be one of the extremely rare few to bridge the gap between the sects. In the whole history of the Kae Solune, there had been a score who succeeded, if that many. If it was true, Kallin knew, he was in serious trouble. While Kallin was thinking, blades had been clashing and clanging. Both men were covered in numerous superficial cuts and bruises. But, Kallin's arms were going numb and the cut on this thigh was bleeding freely. Between the wounds and his earlier spellcasting, he knew he had no chance left unless he ended things quickly. An inadvertent slip a few heartbeats later, which caused him a deep gash in the shoulder, confirmed it. His parrying dagger slipped from nerveless fingers as Kallin murmured a word of power. An inky black darkness settled over the room and the executioner turned victim dove through the window. Or, rather, he tried to dive. What it actually looked like was a controlled fall mixed with a plummeting eagle. He burned the last of his magical energy to make his contact with the street softer, both long daggers left in the room above in his flight. To the sound of Shautha's mocking laughter and the cries of woken townspeople for the watch, Kallin forced himself to his feet. If not for the blood, he could easily be mistaken for a drunkard, shambling and weaving home from the tavern. The Kae Solune wandered aimlessly, his heavy eyelids already practically closed, oblivious to everything around him. Even the eventual cries of fear and concern failed to reach his ears. Nor did the solid warmth of a small body beneath his arm achieve a reaction. The only thing Kallin noticed was when his body decided it had done enough and the lights faded. An Unusual Job – Concealed With a terribly sudden awareness, he became a part of the world again. Instincts born of long training and experience kept Kallin still, despite wakefulness. Keeping his eyes closed and his breathing even, the Kae Solune took stock of his situation. First, memory. The last thing he could recall was diving out of Shautha's second, or was it third, floor window. He'd been badly beaten up, he knew. Which brought him to the next thing: both arms felt like lead weights and his left leg was host to a dull throb of aching pain. The latter, while bad, was manageable, for the moment. Alright, he wasn't going to be leaving anytime soon, so where was he? Under his fingers, and bare back, Kallin felt a soft yielding firmness. A high end mattress? Yes. With feathers instead of straw or cobs. And an equally soft pillow. And clean bedclothes. Well, that was a relief, infinitely better than the worst case's gutter. Time to switch senses, he decided as two muffled voices came to his ears. Both were indistinct, as if coming through a door. Had he somehow gotten home? Had Ilusial found him and gotten the local hedge woman? Hmm, no, neither cadence sounded right for her. And losing days to wander aimlessly home while badly wounded, surviving the trip, was too unlikely. So, he must be in the capital, still. Given the fact that he was apparently both living and unbound, he must have made it to a safe house. But, which one? He'd just decided to hazard a look when the door opened and the voices momentarily stopped. A very clearly feminine one, clear and strong, returned almost instantly. "Welcome back, stranger," the voice belonged to the shorter of two women by the door. With a look, she sent the taller, younger, scurrying off. "We were afraid you wouldn't make it, for a while. There was an awful lot of blood," she added, brushing a stray lock of curly brown hair from her eyes as she came to sit on the edge of the bed. Up close, Kallin found that he could see nearly all of her well-endowed, lithe, figure through the diaphanous gown she wore. When she laughed a heartbeat later, even the sore and tired man felt a thrill run through him. "My apologies . . . I am Lyah, and you are in the House of Alaiarath," she explained, "you stumbled by last night and collapsed while we were inviting in worshippers." The Kae Solune found his voice, haltingly at first. "Many thanks . . . arms . . . stiff, breathing . . ." "Yes, we had to bind wounds on your arms," Lyah replied quickly, "The hierophant says you had two cracked, maybe broken, ribs too. You are not to move for at least another day. His instructions are that you eat and sleep as much as possible." He managed a weak nod as his eyes started to lose focus. Probably drugged, Kallin decided as his lids closed. The clergy of the carnal love god were said to have at least some knowledge of the healing arts. He'd gotten lucky. He could have ended up with Klumen the slaver or Marjok the diseased. With that thought and the lingering mental image of Lyah, Kallin allowed, no, fell, swiftly into the embrace of Sleep. When he woke again, it was dark, but Kallin noted that Lyah was still in the room. She must have seen that he was awake, by the candlelight, as she started toward him with a steaming bowl. At first, the wounded man found it difficult to speak. After the seventh spoonful of broth, however, he felt up to asking, "What was done . . . with my clothes . . . and weapons?" While his body recuperated, his mind was at work, planning his departure. "We still have them, on my chest at the foot of the bed." Kallin nodded, somehow unsurprised that he was in the priestess' rooms. "Alright . . . I need you to . . . burn the clothes, all of them . . . very important, and get rid of the weapons . . . first, pouch in inside pocket. Get that, please," he instructed. To her credit, Lyah asked no questions, probably part of her calling. When she returned, he said, "Good, it made it. Look, Lyah, I need a few favours." She lit up a bit, a small quirk of her lips showing the smile she stifled, "Of course . . . bit we'll need to know your name. Alaiarath will need that so we can pray for you." "Kallin," the Shadow replied quickly, "I'm going to need new clothes and two good, plain, daggers when I'm well enough to leave. Can you get them for me?" "Yes. In the morning." Probably from a 'worshipper,' he thought. Aloud, he just said, "Great. Take the money you need. From whatever's left, take two of every three coins. I need those to go to Railin the Carter, with a message. 'There is a problem. Oren will need the cart in . . .," he shifted and winced, "five days. Easy enough?" Once Lyah nodded, repeated the message twice, and left the remaining coins, Kallin was left to meditate on the remaining mental image of her exit. And to think about his next course of action. It was clear that he'd failed his job. The Kae Solune did not take failure lightly, especially when it came to such important jobs as this one. There was no thought of trying to complete it now, the target had likely moved and a new brother had been assigned to deal with Shautha. Also, it was only a matter of time before someone was dispatched to punish him for his failure. Hunting Shautha under those circumstances was out of the question. That left escaping the city and taking Ilusial into hiding, maybe north into Mondaria, as the only viable option. He'd have to cover his tracks getting back, lying low for another five days ought to help, no one would look at the temple for awhile . . . . . . Kallin lost the trail of thought as he woke to sunlight and Lyah. The priestess smiled and brushed her hair back before perching herself on the edge of the bed. Today, he noted, the semi-sheer gown had been replaced by a thin red silk halter top and silver trimmed derriere skimming skirt. "Feeling better today," she asked. As he nodded, the mage-assassin was pleased, yet unsurprised, to notice she had a trim, well toned, physique. Given her calling, that made sense, he thought as she continued. "Railin accepted the payment and said he'll keep the cart ready for an equal amount once Oren is done with it. And one of the servants went shopping this morning. The tunic was overpriced, I think." He waved off the objection, "Doesn't matter, I won't wear it for long . . . thank you for everything. What do I owe Alaiarath for my care and your room?" "Nothing, Kallin . . . but five of the coins from your pouch would make a generous donation," Lyah replied with the hint of an amused grin. "Take five for the god, then," Kallin matched the look, "another five for the hierophant to do with as he pleases, with my thanks. And keep the rest for yourself, as a gift." The priestess nodded, rose, and, giving him enough of a view to see she wore nothing under the skirt, emptied the pouch. Not that he was surprised by her attire, or lack thereof. Kallin was surprised when she turned back to him with a mischievous look in her eyes. "There is enough left in here for a worshipper to enjoy . . . ten nights in the company of a priest or priestess of my rank. It is not the practice of Alaiarath's priesthood to accept donations without providing a service . . ." She set the pouch down and took the four steps necessary to stand by the bed. Looking down at the wounded man, Lyah slid a hand down his bare chest, disturbing the covers. He felt another disturbance as he was given a nice long look down the priestess' cleavage. She seemed to notice too because she began pulling the bedclothes down, observing, "It seems you'll be needing some more experience of Alaiarath's healing powers . . ." With that, she fully drew back the covers, exposing Kallin's growing erection. A moment later, she'd straddled his legs, pinning his lower body to the bed. Not that he really struggled. Instead, he watched as Lyah bent at the waist, letting her wavy hair fall across his chest. He sighed and squirmed a little as she drew her head up, the silken tresses gliding across his skin. Somehow, he was pleased to see, she'd gotten the halter tops off without his notice. Lyah sat back on his knees to give her 'captive' a good view of her full breasts. Kallin smiled up and whispered, "I appear to be at your mercy, priestess." She laughed as she placed his hands on her breasts, inviting him to squeeze and caress them. As he did so, the priestess ran her fingertips over his torso, drawing a low groan from the Shadow. He felt his body react in too many ways to count as Lyah drew circles around his flat nipples with her tongue. He squirmed a bit more as she started leaving a trail of kisses down over his ribs. When she paused at his navel, licking around the indentation, and lay her body atop his legs with his phallus between her breasts, he guessed where the 'healing' would come from. A moment or two later, Lyah spread his legs, settling herself between them. Slowly, she licked up the underside ridge of his organ, watching it jump and twitch in response. As she reached the head, she gently cupped and massaged his balls while grasping the base of his shaft firmly. Kallin let out a low groan as the priestess ran her tongue around the whole bulbous tip. The sound was cut off and turned into a loud moan and gasp as she sucked just the top between her lips. As she suckled at his member, Lyah kept her tongue swirling around it, adding to the sensation and eliciting wordless mumbles and pants from her charge. By the time her throat closed around a good fraction of his length, it was all he could do to keep from touching her, drawing her up so he could return the intense feelings. His injuries helped restrain him, though Lyah's ministrations seemed to be helping the wounds. As she began bobbing her head in time to her suction, Kallin closed his eyes, immersing himself in sheer enjoyment. Afterall, no one said he couldn't enjoy his near week in hiding . . .