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Timeros: A Clash Of Gods

By: TravellingWilly



1.

The sound of clashing steel had died away. The screams of agony and death had become nothing more than quiet murmurs on the chapped lips of the many men that lay littered across the battlefield. Some cried out for their wives, sons and daughters others, perhaps the younger flag bearers, perhaps knights old enough to have sired kin older than the flag bearers cried out for their mothers. The name of Gorgaroth, God of old, was sputtered out at the final moments, asking for forgiveness and a place at His right hand side as one of His warriors. Thoughts of the next journey becoming their last on this blooded land. 

The sun had risen as a fiery red disc as red as the land the first rays of its mighty light had spread upon, any witness would see the tendrils of low lying fog burning away under the heat of the rising sun. As the fog cleared the bodies came into view, face down, on their backs, draped one on top of the other, in many places skewered on large poles, sheer carnage of the battle unveiled for all.

Yet one moved, alive amongst the dead. About him, bodies of his friends, of his comrades and of his enemy littered the ground. Faces could be seen twisted into masks of agony as death finally took them. He sat up on his knees, the front of his white surcoat and his cote of arms hidden beneath blood and mud torn in places revealing chain mail and armour beneath it. He doubled over gagging and heaving as his stomach lurched, he held his eyes tightly shut head pounding as he attempted to be sick. But nothing more than spittle left his mouth, catching on his beard.

"Crusader," The call came from behind, a voice of pure fury and vengeance the word descending into a terrible scream "Crusader," he turned too fast his head throbbed an almighty pain, his stomach lurched again and he fell forward his left arm barely keeping him up right. A man, no a Giant, staggered across the field, his clothes torn and frayed and a shirt of black hung now round his waist. Arrows, by Gorgaroth so many arrows had pierced his skin front and back, sticking out as if he were a maidens pin cushion. In his hand he held an Axe its end chipped and bloodied but thirsty for more. "Your time has come Crusader. Gorgaroth walks not this filthy ground, bow your head and receive the blessing of my Almighty father." The giant screamed raising the axe above his head.

The Crusader moved quickly catching the giant by surprise. The man was on his feet in seconds springing forward, in his right hand a broad sword that caught the sun light making it look like the blade was made from the fire itself. The giant swung high, at the last moment the Crusader ducked and pushed forward with his sword. The giant howled out as the blade pierced his side ripping through the flesh just below the rib cage.

The Crusader cursed his unsteady hand, the thrust was meant to go deeper and end the fight before it had chance to begin. He sprung back and landed awkwardly on a tangle of bodies, he looked down 'fool!' he thought to himself realising his error he looked up just as the axe came in from the left side. The Crusader screamed out feeling the axe slicing into his side then he was airborne, the force of the swing lifting him from his feet and sending him flying. 

He rolled onto his back, his left hand clutching at his side, feeling shredded armour and worse yet the gaping pulsing wound that was quickly covering his hand and the body beneath him in warm blood. A shadow descended, he looked up squinting through the pain. The Giant stood over him a grin stretched across his hairless face "The time of the Crusader is at an end," He said breathing heavily raising his axe once more, "no more will your ilk stink up this land."

Somehow he moved, somehow he had gotten to his feet and propelled himself forward, the weight of righteous steel in his right hand swinging round connecting with the giants side, slicing, digging and embedding into his flesh. The Crusaders left shoulder crumpled beneath the weight of the Axe as it swung down, had his shoulder plate not been made of hard iron and the Axe pitted and worn it would have removed his arm with ease.

They embraced, the axe now forgotten on the ground, the broad sword buried deep in the giant's side. The giant wrapped his dirtied and sweaty arms around the man and held the crusader to him as if he were a stout bear clutching prey. "I will crush you Crusader. I will taste your last breath as it leaves your body. I will eat your soul." The last word screamed into his face. 

He felt his rib cage snap, something popped shortly after and his breathing became agonising. He freed his right arm and clawed at the Giants face, punching out trying desperately to break the hold. His last punch landed weakly on the giant's hot cheek. His hand flopped to his side as he hiccoughed blood from his mouth. His fingers danced on the shaft of an arrow.

The Crusader took a painful deep breath grabbing the arrow and wrenching it free from the giants flesh, he lifted it high and swung down. The tip found its mark, bursting the soft eyeball as it entered through the socket. The giant screamed out but held him tighter still. He pushed the arrow forward feeling it ripping through muscle. Blood and scraps of eyeball dripped down the giants face. The final push and the giant's screams were suddenly silenced. The giant wobbled back and forth before finally toppling backwards crashing to the ground, the Crusader rolling free.

The sun had risen higher and the sky was a pale blue, the start of a beautiful day the crusader thought. Black flowers bloomed in his vision as he blinked. Breathing had become secondary. The pain was too much to continue inhaling so he lay still and stared at the blue dome above him. The ground trembled beneath him. He turned his head expecting to see the giant rising once again to claim his head. Instead he saw three figures, dressed in black cloaks and hooded. One led a large black horse an open wagon strapped to its hind.

'Death must be busy this day, he sends helpers to collect the fallen.' The crusader thought as the figures circled around him, his eyes fluttered then closed as they knelt and lifted him from the battlefield nothing more now than dead weight.

 2.

Captain Farringdon Rosen's hands felt the smooth dark skin of his own Queen's thighs as she rode him slowly. She cupped her small breasts in her own hands, fingers pulling at her hard black nipples, back arched her long black hair cascading behind her. Rosen's left hand moved to her inner thigh and over her matted pubic hair his thumb finding the swollen bud beneath. Queen Oundle let out a loud gasp as his thumb pushed down she bit her lip trying to hold back what was coming. Rosen's right hand reached across her belly feeling the sweat they had both made beneath his dried battle weary hand and up to her left breast. Queen Oundle rocked quicker and pushed down harder, her own free hand now in her mouth muffling her gasp, moans and sighs. Rosen met her rhythm lifting his own hips getting his cock in to her as deep as he could, knowing that they were both close. She shuddered and froze on him her hand barely able to hide the deep moan that escaped her mouth. Rosen lifted his hips once more and felt himself peek, releasing deep inside his Queen.

They had been lovers for five years the good King Balestre was not so good in the bedroom and his wife the Queen Oundle had found her own needs did not need to go wanting for long. Farringdon Rosen made a fine lover. Now they lay side by side, Oundle draped one hand across his chest her fingers playing across his scared body, Rosen feigned sleep, the sex was enjoyable but not as enjoyable as lying in a bed, especially after being in the field of battle for two seasons. "No new scars this time?" She noted her words no more than sigh.

Rosen smiled "Your husband places me with assignments that require less of my sword and more of my mouth." He had lately felt more like an errand boy than a revered Captain.

Queen Oundle let out a small laugh, "your mouth is more likely to get you in trouble." She moved quickly her legs either side of Rosen's head before he had time to stop her and lowered herself onto his waiting tongue. 

 3.

King Balestre loved his war room. The entrance hid beneath a large ancient tapestry that hung behind the Kings Throne. The room had no windows and with only one entrance no one could enter without being seen and once in, there was nowhere to hide, the room was a spy's worst nightmare, how the king loved it so. Three walls were lined with large dark wood bookcases. On these sat maps, books, ancient scrolls that were so brittle that they turned to dust at the slightest breath and other sundry papers that past and present kings had left behind. 

Only three men were now present in the room. The King himself as well as Captain Rosen and behind him, stood firmly with his back to the door was the Giant known as Golman.

The current king leaned over a long table, on which unfurled and held down on either side by heavy weights was a map that showed his land of Dolan, bordered to the east by Timeros. A thin smile was on his lips as he looked at the now fragile border, one hand stroked his black, greying beard. "The Crusaders are cowed and their King is reeling." He looked up at the man on the opposite side of the table. "The lands across the river are in disarray already those loyal to us are spreading the message that I will give them hope and safety. Timeros has yet to bring word of surrender to my ear. They fell so hard on our border I expected words of grave apology and abject subservience from their God Gorgaroth himself." Not one to anger his good King, Captain Rosen smiled and gave a dry laugh it was all a charade his loyalty to the King had faded rapidly.

Many, including Rosen had expected the battle to have gone against them, yet King Balestre had shown great skill in planning and executing that had changed the outcome dramatically. King Balestre it seemed had hidden talents. Rosen knew he would have to be careful from now on as did everyone in the land of Dolan. "I am sorry that you missed your chance on the battlefield," the king said, his head lowered once again to the map "Truly I am. A man like you enjoys the battle and for me to take that away, pah!" he waved one hand aimlessly. 

"My King required my talents elsewhere and I accept that." Rosen shrugged showing that he had taken the duty with honour, though in reality he had raged and smashed his little homestead upon hearing his menial task. "Do you wish to have my report? I have only been back one day--"

"One day?" The king raised his head quickly from the map his eyes locking with Rosen's own, "I was told you returned before evening bell two days ago." Rosen's blood ran cold and fought to hold the Kings gaze.

By the door Golman stirred. Rosen's right hand man went wherever Rosen went. They had fought side by side for many years earning each others trust. The race of Giants in Dolan were said to be born from the God Barthan himself as a constant reminder to the people of his great strength. Rosen knew without turning to look that Golman's hand was already resting on the hilt of his large battle axe. "You must have been ill informed my King," Rosen spoke as if nothing was wrong, yet his mind screamed at him that the King had finally found out, "I returned yesterday, perhaps whoever spoke of me was confused."

The king said nothing simply starred into Rosen's hard, green eyes. No emotion could be seen, no feeling, the man did not even blink as he lied to his own King. As angry as Balestre was, part of him admired the courage it took. Balestre straightened up and smiled broadly as he walked round the table, as slow and dim-witted as many thought of their good King, Balestre was quick and cunning with an intelligence to match. He clapped Rosen on the shoulders, "Yes, perhaps that is the case. With everything that is going on it is an easy mistake to be made. Troops have been moving back and forth for months now even hedge knights have come calling bidding servitude. It is easy enough to mistake one man for another these days." If Balestre had drawn his sword and struck Rosen down no one would care, no one except Queen Oundle perhaps. But Balestre had taken the first step to revenge, he had let the Captain know that the secret was no more and now he would squirm and wait for the killing blow.

He took the rolled up parchment from Rosen's hand and unfurled it glancing at the spidery thin writing taking in a smattering of the boring detail on there. "Yes it was as I expected." He rolled the parchment back up and placed it on the table. "I hate to do this to you Captain but I require you and your men to cross into the land of Timeros. It has been three months since we began the route and while they are still licking their wounds I wish for us to spread the word of Dolan and of our true God. We have made a firm foothold in most of the towns and villages but there are some that still wish to fight on I require your skilled hand in this matter, to quell any thoughts of uprising."

"Of course my King, as you command it." Rosen bowed at the waist ever so slightly.

"Speak to the towns and the villages let them know Dolan does not hold them responsible for the unwise attack on our borders. Let them know King Balestre is lenient to those in favour of new rule," Their eyes met again, "let them know any uprising or betrayals will be met with swift justice."

"And what of the Crusaders and those who refuse to denounce their King and Gorgaroth." Rosen asked, though he knew the answer.

"Crush them as well. Show the people that the time of Gorgaroth is at an end." The King turned and walked back round the table his eyes returning once again to the map, his ringed index finger tracing an imaginary border that covered the lands of Timeros. "Rest up tonight Captain, you leave at the break of dawn. Get you affairs in order you may be gone for some time." The King placed as much emphasis on the word 'affairs' as he deemed suitable to drive the message home. He kept his eyes on the map not needing to see Rosen's expression.

Timeros: A Clash Of Gods Ch. 02



Mountain of the Daemon's

Blackness enveloped him, he blinked his eyes but no vision returned. His tongue felt swollen in his dry mouth and his throat made a dry clicking noise as he tried to swallow. He tried to lift an arm but they remained fixed at his sides. A turn of the head yielded the same response. 'Had I done so wrong in my past that Gorgaroth has punished me?' He thought, the giant had crushed him, shattered him yet he fought on to his dying breath taking the monstrosity to his grave, had it not been enough for Gorgaroth? Despair was quickly rising in him, his heart beating faster. Wait, his heart? He took a deep breath and took in cold, clean air with no sense of pain. The stories spoke of a life without the need of mortal trappings, no water, no food and no air. So why was he breathing?

"Hello," He called out, his voice cracked and husky no more than a harsh bark. He coughed and tried again. The call echoed around him but no response. Yet he felt someone was there, lurking in the blackness. "I know you are there, I may be dead but my senses are just as keen as they were when I walked on the soil."

The laugh was quiet, not mocking his statement but finding amusement in it, he felt movement to his right, the air swirling and creating a draft over his skin. 'Naked, I am naked in the black.' He realized. "And how do you come by this conclusion that you are dead Lucan of Aldemar." The woman's voice was soft. He sensed that she was very close now. "Do you not breathe? Do you not taste the air about you?" A hand, as gentle as the air brushed along his fingers, wrist and up his arm. "Do you not feel? Then how did you decide you were dead?"

"I cannot see and I cannot move these are the traits of death. If I can see and I can move then I implore you to make it so." Sun light, strong and powerful appeared as a heavy cloth was pulled from his face. His head was still held rigid as was the rest of his body, but he had his sight back for what it was worth. The ceiling was visible, stone work held firm only one wall could be seen which led him to believe he was in a large room. The sunlight was from behind him, a window. "I cannot move." He said.

A face appeared above him, red hair tied back, full lips and pale grey eyes. "Your wounds needed time to heal. Restraints had to be used once the fever and delirium had taken hold of you." He felt both her hands running across his body. Pushing gently at his ribs then to his abdomen, he felt one finger run along a scar that he could not remember having before. "I shall remove the restraints, but try not to move too much." He felt the leather bindings begin to loosen around his legs and thighs. "You have been asleep a long time."

The woman was actually a girl not much older than eighteen Lucan guessed, helped him sit up which had seemed to be such a chore as if he were new to sitting up. "How do you know my name?" Lucan asked.

"When the delirium took control you were like a mad man, screaming your name and the names of your fathers and that you would take revenge on all." She went on to explain how they had to grapple him to the ground and knock him unconscious before they could strap him to the table. Lucan winced with embarrassment but the girl took it as a signal of pain and tried to lie him back down.

"No, no I am fine, the delirium thankfully is blocked from my memory I apologize for my outbursts," He placed one unsteady foot down feeling the cold stone beneath, then his other foot before raising himself. The girl steadied him as best she could he stood over six feet tall. He noticed his nakedness and reached to cover himself. 

The girl laughed, "I may be a girl but I am aware of the male form, you do not embarrass me." He looked at her and finally took in what she was wearing. She wore a sheer gown that fastened high on the neck and ran to her feet where it trailed a few inches onto the stone ground. What was surprising was how see through it was. Her breasts were perfectly round, with dusky pink nipples and he could make out a full bush that matched the girl's hair colour. "As you can see, we of the house of Dianna are not easily embarrassed."

He had begun to harden at the sight of her form but at the mention of the house he reflexively pulled away from her, his right hand going to his waist looking for the hilt of his sword exposing his slightly engorged penis. Lucan's eyes flicked to the window, how high were they, could he jump and survive.

"You have heard of our House then." The voice came from the left, a stout wooden door had been opened and a woman stood there, her blonde hair pulled back behind her head. She wore the same sheer gown the sunlight revealing her nakedness underneath. Two other women entered the room, dressed the same as the blonde woman except they held long deadly spears. "Lucan of Aldemar welcome to the house of Dianna." 

They left the room and while the girl had gone in one direction Lucan walked with the woman who had introduced herself as Cazadora, High priestess of Dianna. The guards stayed close behind. They had handed him one of the gowns which barely fit his frame, the house of Dianna was one of only a handful of all female houses. Dianna was one of the old gods, she stood shoulder to shoulder with Gorgaroth at the birth of the world, some of the older tomes even dared to name Dianna as the mother of the world, Gorgaroth filling her womb with his seed and the world birthed from between Dianne's legs. That was before the Crusaders had burned such tomes. Yet people still believed and witches as they were commonly known in Aldemar still worshiped the goddess and practiced what was surely dark magic. And here he was Lucan, Crusader of Aldemar trapped inside their coven awaiting a terrible fate. 

Cazadora spoke with ease as she told him how he was brought there by three of her priestess'. Death had been encircling him but they had managed to fix what they could before the fever and delirium. "I had my doubts when you were brought here, so I apologize to you for not having faith in a Crusader." She said eyeing him up and down as they walked. Once he was there they had worked a spell to keep him under while his body healed and they had helped where possible with elixirs and more potent spells. He was surprised to hear he had been under for almost six months, no wonder he had felt so weak.

As they walked Lucan looked out of the open arched windows that lined the corridor, the sky was a deep blue and a snow capped mountain range rose in vicious peaks towards it. The two largest peaks, Daemon's Horns dominated the skyline. They had taken him south from the battlefield all the way to the land's end. As they walked priestess's of all ages and ilk bowed gently and whispered "mother" to Cazadora, to some she stopped for a moment resting a hand on their head a silent prayer moving her lips before they carried on. 

They finally reached a great oak door adorned with engraved shapes of huntresses riding on giant steeds. Here another guard stood and like the two trailing them held a long deadly tipped spear at the sight of the High priestess the guard unbolted the door and opened it. Only Cazadora and Lucan entered. The door shut firmly behind them, the sound of the bolt engaging was muffled by the thick wood. 

This was Cazadora's own chambers, to one side lay a large bedstead opposite which was an archway that led into another room which Lucan peered into. Books lined most of the walls and in the centre a small table and chair, a candle burnt brightly yet no wax dripped from it. "Many of those books would be lost to time had we not rescued them from war, famine and the less enlightened who walk this world." Lucan said nothing, letting the remark roll off him as he studied the room. "You are not marked for death Lucan of Aldemar. We would not waste our time healing you simply to kill you, so your time spent looking for a weapon or an escape are wasted" 

Lucan let himself smile at this. 'A Witch she may well be but a warrior most certainly.' he thought. "Then why am I here?" he asked out loud.

She smiled, "Our Goddess Dianna simply wants the return of items that are precious to her house." She stood only a bit shorter than him and when she stepped closer to him their eyes were almost level. "Your Crusaders have taken possession of items that are very dear to us and we want you to return them." She circled him one hand trailing across him, touching his skin and muscle beneath the fabric of the gown. "What the Crusaders took, a Crusader shall return." She stood directly behind him. He turned his head slightly trying to catch a glimpse of her. His body tensed as he waited for the feel of cold steel at his back. It never came.

Instead he felt both her hands run up his back and over his shoulders, they slipped down his arms, momentarily she let go only to place her hands on either side of his waist. "And if I refuse?" He asked hoarsely, he tried to control himself, but felt his penis stiffening the more her touch lingered on him.

The laugh turned his blood cold. "A cursed man does not walk from this House easily." He spun round, grabbing both her wrists. She let out a gasp of surprise at his speed rather than the vice like grip. "You are a free to return our items as you see fit, but I am Cazadora, high priestess of Dianna and I see far. The moment you deviate from the path or attempt to rid yourself of the curse you will die, painfully." Her smile wavered as his grip tightened. It had been risky placing the elixir onto her palms but she had no other choice, he simply would have walked away. Cazadora needed a guarantee, something to control him by, something more than a curse and now the thin layer of elixir that she had rubbed into his back would provide her a backup. "The deal cannot be undone. Killing me will not bring an end to the curse only a quicker end to your own life."

He let go of her wrists and turned away from her. Lucan could feel a tingling across his back where the witch had placed her hands. It started off small and localized but already it had begun spreading. Cazadora went to speak but he swung back round delivering a harsh slap to her face, she stumbled backwards hand clutching out at a chair to steady herself. "Save that anger for the thieves," She tasted blood on her lips, "three items must be returned and the curse will be lifted." She straightened herself up and stepped close to him again, feeling Lucan's anger like a wave breaking across her she reached out and touched one of his powerful arms, he flinched then relaxed. "It has been a long time for you Lucan of Aldemar," Her voice suddenly so soft and warm "Away from home, fighting, killing with no rest and no comforts," Her hand slipped down his arm, onto the scar that was the only physical remnant left from the fight with the giant. "The house of Dianna is a lonesome place also." Her hand went lower still across his thigh. 

Lucan turned facing her fully, he took hold of her by her arms and she saw the anger there in his eyes but also lust. He wanted nothing more than to break her neck yet unknown to him the heat of the elixir was doing strange things. He stared at the witch, thoughts of killing her conflicted with thoughts of having her, spreading her across her bed and burying himself deep into her. His eyes dropped taking in her ample breasts and dark nipples that were already hardening. His kiss was forceful. He held her close, hands tightening on her arms, her tongue explored his mouth. She let out a yelp when he bit down and broke from his grip she took a single step backwards. He followed and pulled at her gown, ripping it away in one motion exposing her body fully.

They embraced again, kissing harder, she broke the kiss and nuzzled at his neck nipping and biting across his neck and shoulder her nails dragged across his back and arms she could feel his cock rigid against her belly and reached down to grip it. She gave it a hard yank eliciting a small moan and gasp.

Lucan spun Cazadora around, her arms saving her from falling face first onto her bed, she felt his rough hands on her hips and then one leg kicking her own apart. "Just what I expected from a lowly farmer of Aldemar," she spat over her shoulder "Rutting like animals." He grunted a laugh and landed a stinging slap across one buttock. She felt his engorged cock head rub across her slick opening and pushed back letting it slip in. Lucan held still for a moment with nothing more than his cock head inside the witch. "Is that all you have farmer, I expected at least a bit of..." Her sentence cut short her breath caught in her throat as he pushed forward filling her up until he was completely buried in her.

He held her hips and began long slow thrusts, pulling almost all the way out before driving it home again. Cazadora panted and moaned with each thrust, by now both were slick with sweat and her own sex was a mire of juices, he kept going feeling the witch getting closer to her peek. Cazadora's breath became shorter her hips bucked back against Lucan. With each thrust he landed a slap to a buttock. Cazadora let out a long moan almost a wail and Lucan felt his own cock begin to spasm deep inside her, he had no time, simply held Cazadora's hips and buried himself as deep as possible as he unloaded stream after stream of cum inside her. 

Lucan pulled his now deflating cock from Cazadora who in turn turned and collapsed on her back onto the bed breathing in gulps of air her body shook and she laughed quietly, Lucan shook his head, unsure what had come over him so violently and why he felt a slight knot in his stomach.



Dracon Castle, Dolan.

Leaving the War room with Golman at his side Rosen had asked in hushed tones. "Are you the one to take my life Golman?" 

Golman's deep laugh echoed around the cavernous Throne room. "Not me Rosen, but be weary from now on." He slowed his pace and looked down at the Captain, "Many claim to be your men but to the King they are sworn first and last. I will choose those who will come to Timeros, ones that have proven themselves in battle. But you have a more pressing engagement. But I say again be wary." Rosen nodded and walked quickly down the throne room his heart beat drowning out the sound of his echoing footsteps.

Oundle felt comfort in the stables it was a life she had known before marrying the then Prince Balestre. Her own Father was a mighty lord but one of the people. His people had loved him and would have swum the oceans if he had asked them to. Oundle was brought up the same way believing everyone should be treated equally she had spent years in the stables tending to the horses jesting with the stable hands and even falling in love with one. But as much as she wanted it she was a Lady and had already been offered to Prince Balestre, she could not bring disrepute to her Lord Father and Mother. Oundle and Balestre were married at the turn of her sixteenth birthday. She smiled and played along with the ceremony though when she said her vows she had imagined her stable boy.

A movement in the rafters above her brought her from her dream and she looked up her breath catching as a dark figure moved fluidly between the rafters before dropping to the ground before her. Rosen pulled the black hood away from his head and Oundle's startled face turned to one of surprise "I have been waiting up there most of the evening," he said taking one of her hands in his own, "Your handmaid will return shortly we haven't much time." He leaned in a kissed her on the lips.

Oundle reached up with her free hand cupping his face, "You look worried my Stable boy," Rosen met her eyes and Oundle's hand slipped from his grip "He knows." She said with a certainty. She had known it would happen but the day Farringdon Rosen had appeared in the King's court not as the stable boy she had left behind but as a soldier of formidable repute the worry had left her within a single tear drop from her eye.

The affair had gone on for five years now, longer than either of them had expected so much so that the fear of being caught had become such a frivolous thing a folly that they joked about sometimes when they were entwined. They had been stupid and now they were to be punished. "I don't know what he has planned, I still have my head and you are not rotting in a dark dungeon somewhere," a whore to all the jailers and prisoners he thought sending a shudder down his back. 

"Then we leave now," Oundle sputtered out and Rosen shook his head, "We cannot stay here."

"I leave for Timeros at first light; The King has requested my assistance in bringing his new loyal followers to heel." Oundle stepped back, her mouth hanging open in shock, "He wants me away from you, what he has planned is far worse than death I imagine...for both of us." He took hold of both her hands now "We run now he will track us down and the punishment will be far worse."

"And what of me? Where shall I go?" Tears had started to spill down her cheeks.

"You must stay here, act the good Queen, sire a son if you must," The last words tasting bitter on his tongue, "I will return, be sure of that and when I do Balestre will beg for my mercy."

"And if you don't return?" For that he had no answer.

He lay in his bed now a simple feather filled mattress with a single sheet draped across his body, he had cried and he had raged now he lay still looking into the blackness he feared for her life more than his own. He was to be away from her until the king beckoned his return or had grown tired of playing with Rosen and had him killed at which point he was sure Oundle would meet her own end at the hands of the king himself, if he deviated from his mission the king would have them both killed. Rosen needed time, time to plan not only his own escape but that of the Queen as well as the time to return to the north lands and collect his hidden gold. Gold that he had been hiding in the mountains waiting for the moment it would be needed. And Rosen knew that time was rapidly approaching. 

As the very top of the highest tower turned red with the rising sun Captain Farringdon Rosen walked into the court yard before his waiting squad of men. Six were horse mounted with vicious swords the other six were on foot two archers and four swordsmen. Sitting at the head of the group was Golman his Steel war hammer strapped to his back "So glad you could join us Captain," The giant bellowed a grin spread across his face. "We ride on lands that have no ruler. Here we are Kings, here we are Gods." Golman's smile spread even wider the last line from a book his father had read to him as a child on his lips as he handed Rosen the reins to the unseated black steed next to him.

"I still find it difficult to believe you were a child once Golman." Rosen looked over at his companion as he mounted the horse pleased that he was not going to approach the subject that was lying heavy on Rosen's heart. "To me you will always be the Giant that crushed Baron Fasseri's skull between your hands."

Golman let out one of his deep laughs, "Ah good times were those. Perhaps we will get to replay them in this new land." He cracked the knuckles on his hands, "There are rumors that there are Crusaders that will not go easily into the afterlife hiding in towns and villages creating rebellion to the new rule." Rosen nodded at this, he so wanted to test his might against these once feared opponents. Now that they had been shown to be mere men on a battlefield and cowardly ones at that from what other Captains and Commanders had reported back, Rosen was eager for battle. Golman leaned slightly towards Rosen his voice dropping lower than even Rosen had expected him capable of "I have picked the most loyal, we are at your command and no one else's."

Rosen nodded and forced a smile though felt no joy. He looked about the courtyard and up at darkened windows hoping to see her face one last time but she was nowhere to be seen. He turned to look at his men, "We ride to Timeros and to glory." He spurred his horse as his men whooped and followed.




Timeros: A Clash Of Gods Ch. 02



Mountain of the Daemon's

Lucan looked at himself in the mirror. How strange he looked after such a long time. He had been away from home for over five years. He had left as a man of almost forty years, too old to fight said some, others had seen him battle and knew different. Where Lucan of Aldemar walked men trembled, had trembled, time had moved on. His beard was far longer and had tufts of grey throughout his now shoulder length unkempt hair also showed grey. Forty years he may have been but battle and war made him look older still. His Armour was beyond repair. All that he now had left were his pants, boots and Gambeson. "How can a Crusader fall so far?" Lucan muttered to himself staring into the mirror at a disheveled figure that once brought kings to their knees.

"Not too far I would hope?" The red haired girl had entered his chamber and stood behind him looking round his large form to see the reflection in the mirror. "I would suggest a hair cut and a trim of that beard though." Lucan noticed that she held her hands behind her back and so asked what she was hiding. The girl smiled and with what he assumed was meant to be a bit of flourish produced his sword and sheath.

He took hold of it, feeling the leather sheath and pattern sown into it, he ran his hand along the winding pattern to the sword hilt. It felt cold, he realized that she had not been carrying it by the hilt. 'Even their young know the way of warriors' Lucan mused to his impressed self. He gripped the hilt and drew the blade. He was amazed at the clean brightness of the steel. He noticed what he assumed was a small nick in the blade near the hilt, upon closer inspection he found intricate runes had been etched into the blade, his fingers danced across the foreign markings and he looked at the girl questioningly.

She said with pride "A gift from Dianna, your blade will never need sharpening again." 

Lucan shook his head, suddenly it seemed that the blade was tarnished, "witchcraft" he muttered.

"We are not witches," The girl placed her hands firmly on her hips and straightened her shoulders trying to look authoritative but instead only succeeding in drawing Lucan's attention to her breasts. "We are priestess' of Dianna, shield maidens and warriors alike and know magic that this world has long since lost. Without us, darkness would have descended a long time ago. What you have there is a gift. Please accept it as one."

Lucan lifted his eyes and stared into the grayness of her own, he felt himself stir, an argument on his lips but then he stopped himself aware suddenly that since being here he had not once asked for her name had in fact not shown a butcher's ounce of respect to her. "I apologize," He said holding her gaze making sure that she knew that it was fully meant. He broke the gaze and fastened his sword to his side, feeling the welcome weight return. "I would thank you, but..."

"Amberlee. My name is Amberlee." She said a smile crossing her face.

Lucan could not help but smile back "Then thank you Amberlee for this gift, it will come in handy I am sure perhaps I'll tell you about it upon my return."

Amberlee looked at him quizzically her eyebrows rising. "Cazadora has not told you?" but Amberlee did not continue she bit her full lower lip let out a sigh, turned and left the room, leaving the question hanging.

The site of two horses in the courtyard had the instant reaction of getting Lucan's back up, he did not need a tutor of any type to tell him that he would have a travelling companion, a deadly curse it seemed would not be enough of an incentive. Cazadora stood by the horses about her stood perhaps another twenty females all dressed in the sheer gown's, as much as he tried Lucan could not help but look upon their forms, taking in breasts of all sizes and colour as well as pubic hair of all colour and in some cases none whatsoever. 'I must be feeling better, all I can think about is how long it would take me to get through all these women' Lucan chuckled to himself.

He noticed that Cazadora looked fuller in the belly than he remembered but perhaps that simply because he had not truly paid much attention the first time. "You have the best horses we could provide Lucan of Aldemar." Cazadora said handing the reins of the larger black horse to him.

"I see a second horse and no rider." He said.

Cazadora gave that wicked smile of hers, "You will have a companion, someone to help you in your quest."

Lucan shook his head, "someone to spy on me you mean."

Cazadora simply shrugged, "I can see far but not at all times call her what you may, but she will come in handy." Lucan turned to look behind him following Cazadora's gaze. Amberlee was striding across the courtyard, gone was the gown instead she wore attire more fitting for the outside world, black boots, pants and a dark brown tunic and hanging from around her neck and down her back was a long black cloak. "Amberlee is one of our finest warriors. Many have let her looks and age fool them, much to their demise. She can be as deadly as any curse and just as fast."

Lucan looked back at Cazadora, must she continue to inform him of his possible demise at the hands of a curse. "I have not forgotten, but I would prefer someone a little older I am not a baby sitter." 

"And I am not a nurse for the elderly, but we both most accept our fates at the moment." Amberlee retorted for herself. Her voice had hardened and she acted almost like a different person. She mounted the second horse with fluid ease and stared down at Lucan. "If you are too feeble to mount your horse we can get a stable hand to help you up."

The gathered women laughed at this, Lucan felt his face redden beneath his beard. He mounted his own horse a little slower perhaps but with no help. Cazadora handed him a sheaf of paper. "The three items and the people who last had them, our spies are resourceful." Lucan took a quick look at the list. The names were familiar, in one case too familiar. His own name stood out, top of the list. He remembered the amulet, gold and silver with runes along the outer edge it did not seem like much when he held it and giving it away had been a necessity that had prolonged his life, now he cursed his own luck. "Once they are returned to me, the curse will be removed and you will be free to go," Lucan stared at Cazadora "My words are honest and truthful Lucan. I do not shirk from my duties or my promises. I pray you are the same."

Lucan nodded and folded the list up placing it in the pocket close to his heart. With a flick of the reins her turned his horse and left the courtyard past a procession of women and out into the world he had not stepped in for almost six months.



Timeros: A Clash Of Gods Ch. 03



House of Dianna, Mountain Of The Daemon's

Once the gates had closed behind them, Cazadora let out a long sigh and her whole body sagged, her hands went immediately to her engorged stomach. "I thought that fool would never leave," she said through gritted teeth she reached out and two of her personal priestess' took her weight on either side. "Get me to my chambers, quickly." The other priestesses that had come to bid and pray for the safe journey of Lucan and of their own sister Amberlee looked on with worry and concern. Cazadora was the strongest of them and now she looked pained, tired and weak. Cazadora lifted her head looking at her daughters the look was enough to get them moving, some went to prayer others continued their teachings or chores none dared look back at Cazadora. 

A young priestess scurried by and Cazadora called out to her, "You! Olivia," Cazadora swallowed hard as a contraction erupted inside her, "Find Alotta. Tell her to come to my chambers immediately." The young girl nodded her eyes wide with fear she spared one glance at Cazadora's swollen stomach then rushed off.

Olivia knew where to find the Mistress of Acolytes at this hour and headed straight to the church that lay at the furthest end of their home. It's dome roof appearing as she rounded the last corner walking between the ash tree's that lined the white gravelled pathway to the churches huge double doors. Olivia rested her hand on one door the wood cold and rough beneath her young fingers. She took a deep breath and pushed the door open, the light from outside chasing the gloom from inside away.

Olivia stepped in leaving the door open enough so that she could see most of the way into the church. The huge granite statue of Dianna stood sentient at the very end illuminated by a hundred candles that Olivia helped light every morning before sunrise. It took her awhile to notice the single figure kneeling before the statue. Olivia opened her mouth to call then quickly closed it, with a moment more of hesitation she walked quickly down the aisle to the Mistress of Acolytes.

Alotta Breen had spent half her life as a priestess of Dianna, knelt before a huge granite statue of the All Mother Dianna her eyes glazed as she drifted in her thoughts and prayers. At the age of fifteen she had been tossed out of her village, her back still bore the scars of the whip her own father had taken to her when he had found her with the other girl, both of them naked. She had wandered for days between villages and towns, never able to stay in one place for long. Like many women in the Venta lands Alotta had been taught the sword, bow and spear at an early age. Her father had vaunted her ease at picking up the weapons to all that would listen. Alotta had been deadly by the age of ten killing two men in a skirmish during the summer famine.

Things had turned very sour when she had been caught stealing food from the market in an unnamed mud village. Hanging was the punishment. She was only spared when a Priestess from Dianna had wandered into the village. Her Jailer at the time had taken pity on her and released her in the middle of the night into the care of the priestess.

Alotta looked up at the huge Statue, heavy breasts swollen and topped with thick nipples sat above a swollen belly, the world yet unborn in this statue. Alotta could hear the footsteps getting closer as the bright light of outside pushed into the candle lit murk. She closed her eyes and began to whisper prayer for what was to come. "Mistress?" a small voice called out. Alotta opened her eyes, finishing the prayer to Dianna before standing. 

"What is it Olivia?" She asked turning from the statue. As her eyes adjusted to the new brightness she started to note the young girl before her, perhaps a year older than when Alotta had joined. Her robe threaded with red at the neck and at the sleeves, marking her as an Acolyte just hiding the blooming body beneath. It was the look on Olivia's face that made Alotta clench her jaw. Even though Alotta knew why the girl had been sent the reality seemed so much worse. The girl opened her mouth to speak but Alotta held up one slender hand and stopped her, "Where is Mother?" she simply asked.

Alotta walked quickly through halls and corridors. Her sisters parting before her some nodded or bowed quickly at Cazadora's second, the Mistress of Acolytes as she moved with swiftness down corridors heading towards her goal. Alotta's dark umber, lithe muscular form looking darker still beneath the gossamer thin robe moved with grace and purpose her muscles tensed as if for battle.

Cazadora's bed had been stripped ready for this moment but Alotta walked into the room without knocking and found Cazadora naked on the floor legs spread knees she took long ragged breaths controlling the contractions that shook her body. The two priestesses that had managed to get Cazadora to her chambers busied themselves, one was between her legs the other, looking pale and scared absently rubbed a cloth across Cazadora's brow. Cazadora managed a smile of relief at the sight of Alotta who quickly knelt and without ceremony pushed the other priestess aside taking hold of the warm cloth from the priestess and continued to wipe gently at Cazadora's forehead.

Cazadora let out a harsh moan, lifting herself up off the ground pushing down with her stomach, legs spread wide. "I warned you Mother, this was a foolish risk." Alotta said, sparing a look towards the swollen belly.

"So you have said many times," Cazadora's voice rasped out from between gritted teeth as Fluids and blood spread across the stone work into the cracks and grooves. With each push the child came closer. The older priestess' who was well travelled and had witnessed as well as helped out at birth's across the land on her travels knelt between her legs, her own look of horror impossible to hide. The head had crowned dark hair and fluid. With another push the head popped free, its features changing under a surging wave of skin and muscle. The Priestess reached out with shaking hands that gently, and with trepidation helped the baby along. "How is he?" Cazadora asked her discomfort for the moment forgotten.

"He is strong looking." Alotta replied, taking the baby from the older priestess and scolding her with a withering look and handing the baby over to the younger priestess. "That was dangerous High Priestess. Incantations like this should never be performed." Alotta spoke to Cazadora but could not take her eyes off the baby. Already he looked larger than a moment ago and growing still. Its cries were a mix of hunger and agony, the pain through sudden growth, its features shifting as it cried, the faint sound of muscle's stretching beneath its skin as the unnatural growth continued relentlessly Alotta shuddered at the sight.

"Our needs are too great. We need this little insurance to make sure the task is done." Already Cazadora was righting herself she dismissed Alotta's reaction, Cazadora had prepared herself for what she was birthing, knew what changes would be taking place before their very eyes, she could not expect Alotta to have done the same. She grabbed a clean towel and threw it at the elderly Priestess who still knelt before her "Clean me up and be quick."

Cazadora rose on unsteady feet reaching out and finding the shoulder of Alotta, she turned to the young priestess holding her child. "Feed him and look after him well, then begin his training when he is ready." She took a fresh robe from Alotta and slipped it on fastening it as she painfully moved the couple of steps to the young priestess. Already the child was the size of a six month old. "He looks just like his father. I do hope Lucan will be happy when the time comes to meeting his son."

Dracon Castle, Dolan

The feast hall seemed emptier than usual though Queen Oundle had reason to expect that many of King Balestre's men were across in Timeros in the east or further west smoothing out the land wars that had broken out between three lords and as such were unable to attend the feast. 

Queen Oundle caught the sight of her husband and King lower his empty flagon onto the table and immediately she picked up the jug containing more ale and filled it, as she did she looked at her husband and smiled. His own smile was beaming and to her shock he grabbed her hand as she placed the jug back down and kissed her palm gently, something he had not done since they first met an hour before their wedding. Oundle was more surprised as she felt her face flush.

King Balestre laughed and a few heads at the tables below them turned and smiled rising their own cups in his direction. "I do not make you blush enough my Queen," he said leaning in and kissing her on her dusky cheek, "even with beautiful skin this dark I can still see you blushing."

This is how it had been since Rosen's leaving almost two week ago. Shows of affection, gifts even love ballads sung by minstrels had quickly become common place, it was more attention than she had ever received from Balestre. One night she had dared to ask him, he had laughed and replied "Timeros is ours, one less enemy for me to spend time with," He had grabbed her then pulling her close one hand quickly finding the underside of one breast, "which means more time with you." He had been passionate if not a little rough with his bedding of her that night he had ploughed deep and sowed his seed twice.

She had started to believe that Rosen had been mistaken it was understandable really. They had been stupid, even lax in keeping the affair private. A scare perhaps was enough to waken them both up to the truth, the truth that the affair could no longer continue and that they must leave. Death would always be around the corner Balestre would not suffer such an insult but until that day they would have each other.

"My King," A voice said bringing Oundle out of her daydream. King Balestre's Viceroy a man of sixty years, bald but with a grey beard that reached the centre of his chest bowed stiffly at Balestre's side. "Lord Markos has arrived and bids his greetings to you and the Queen." King Balestre looked up at the guests just sitting down at an empty table right in front of his own raised table. 

A man with a portly belly, dressed in red and blue arraignments and a black sable cloak sat directly opposite the king. Two women accompanied him, one clearly his wife, black hair tied in a bum and lines of age crossing her face, her ample frame barely contained in a turquoise dress. The other woman was younger, fair faced with black hair that curled naturally cascading over her shoulders in a dress of pale pink. The rest of the retinue was made up of eight men, bodyguards and important Council to Lord Markos.

Balestre stood and offered his flagon towards Markos, "I bid you welcome to my home Lord Markos."

Markos in turn lifted his own flagon, "Gratefully accepted and may the wise words of Barthan guide your house." And with that Lord Markos and his men were safe from attack in the court of King Balestre.

Viceroy Alba waited until the king had seated before speaking again, "There is the matter of your other guest," Balestre waved an irritated hand at Alba without looking at him shooing him off, Alba nodded clearly embarrassed and quickly walked off.

Oundle wondered at what other guest her husband had been expecting, certainly she found the presence of Lord Markos a surprise, there was no love lost between Balestre and Markos. Though the land war to the west had Markos' mark all over it, perhaps, she thought her husband was attempting to quell the uprising with a swift offer to Markos, one that would end the war or end Markos.

On the walk to their bedroom Oundle had to swat at the hands of her husband numerous times, his drunken groping was embarrassing especially with the Kings own guards a few steps behind. Balestre reached again one hand grabbing a breast and squeezing hard enough to cause Oundle to gasp, "Enough," The king laughed and slapped her rear far harder than mere jesting.

At the bedroom door Oundle faltered, the king was in one of those moods she could tell, he would want her again tonight, he was a drunk enough that it would last no longer than a few thrusts but something just seemed...off. Balestre took hold of Oundle's upper arm, the grip soft at first became frightening tight, "bedtime my queen," Balestre said his face red and a wide smile that turned her blood cold. He pushed one double door open and dragged her in before she could protest. He pushed her further into the dim lit room and spun on his heels, he pointed to the two guards who remained outside "No one leaves or enters." And pushed the door closed.

Balestre blocked the door way, his hands at his side, fists clenching and unclenching. Oundle looked about the room, the light was so poor should could not make out the furthest walls but she sensed that someone else was near. Balestre stepped slowly across the room, his deathly smile now gone, "When we first met I was so nervous," he said approaching, "I was even more nervous after I saw you," he reached up one hand as he stopped in front of her, Oundle flinched but his hand simply stroked her long black hair. "That was so many years ago how we have grown and changed."

Oundle nodded, "You have grown more handsome and wiser." She tried to sound strong but her voice waivered she reached out her own hand placing it on Balestre's chest. 

He laughed loudly, Oundle tried to smile but her lips and cheeks refused to work. "Not that much wiser it seems." The punch came out of nowhere, one moment he was stroking her hair the next his hand had curled into a fist and had connected with the side of her face sending her sprawling to the floor.

From out of one dark corner a figure approached. The man was in tatters, his clothes nothing more than rags, his white hair dirty and wild. His skin was just as dirty and hung loosely with lack of food. The beggar stood over the queen, his eyes gleaming and his hands rubbing one over the other he looked over at the king, "what are you waiting for fool?" The King spat.

The beggar was on his knees next to Oundle, she gagged at his stench a mix of shit and piss. His hands were on her, in her hair, over her face then groping at her body pulling at the cloth over her breasts, then ripping at the dress. She pleaded with him to stop her hands reaching up and clawing at his dirty, slobbering face. But her words and her resistance were cut short as he delivered a firm punch to her nose. Her vision blurred and black flowers erupted in her vision. Her dress spilled open and her undergarments were torn painfully from her. 

Oundle bit her lip as the beggars filthy mouth closed over one breast, his tongue rough against her nipple that hardened at the unwanted attention. She yelped as his remaining teeth bit her nipple she grabbed his head with her hands, still weak from the punch. The beggar had more strength than she realised as he reared up her finger nails clawing skin from his scalp and ears before he delivered a stinging slap to her face. 

All the while Balestre stood over them silently watching, his face revealing nothing of what he felt. Death was what he first wanted for both Rosen and Oundle, they had come close to the axe man's blade and it had only been a sudden revelation as he prayed to Barthan that stayed the execution. Death by execution was too quick to easy. He wanted them to hurt to be begging Balestre for death when the time came. 

Oundle cried out as the beggars hard cock thrust painfully into her dry hole. Her hands clawed at his chest and face, he paid no attention and continued to thrust into her his mouth slobbering over her breasts and face. With a whimper and a final push she felt the beggars cock pulse inside her a warm spot filling her up. He pulled himself fee standing on wobbly feet, his cock drooping and dripping mess. The King stepped forward as the beggar stood back, "This is all you are good for now, a beggars whore." He said smiling sadly looking down upon her ravaged body. He reached into his own garments and pulled his cock free, it pulsed with life and stood rigid. He gripped it and worked himself pumping back and forth for a few moments before his hips bucked and his cum spattered over Oundle's face and lips. "You should thank me for that. Not every day a whore gets the taste of a king."

Mountain of the Daemon's

It was spring so the mountain passages were far easier to traverse had it been winter there would have been a long, arduous journey with frozen nights spent on the mountain side. As it was the horses were able to make light work and by the second day just as the sun had begun it's decent in the sky they had reached the foothills, another day's ride and they would be at the green fringed edges of winter's Forest.

Wood was sparse and the fire they made was barely enough to warm Lucan's fingertips. Though his mood had improved the further down the mountain they travelled Amberlee had tried to engage him in conversation a few times but his replies had been swift at best at worse a nod or a grunt. He watched the girl on the other side of the fire she had a cloth in one hand and in the other her long bow, she worked the curved wood gently with the cloth then onto the string holding the bow closer to her face as she inspected it. "You look after your weapon well." Lucan said his voice seemed loud in the open space.

Amberlee looked up from her work, her eyes lingered on Lucan for a moment then lowered them, "All it takes is a tiny piece of grit or fibre to get in the string and it could throw out my aim or worse," She lowered the bow to her lap, "snap when I least expect it."

Lucan nodded in agreement though he had never held a bow in his adult life he had been around the archers in his battalion and many of them cared for their bows as much as they cared for their children and wives. "Are you good then?" he asked feeling a little embarrassed that he had not really spoken to the girl on the ride down and now was expecting her to give him a full conversation.

Amberlee gave a small crooked smile, "Have I killed anyone you mean?" Lucan nodded once, "Yes I have and more than one. Poachers mainly, thieves too they tend to see a young girl and expect me to scream and beg for their mercy. In the end they are usually begging me for mercy." A tiny lie Lucan thought, he could see it in the way her mouth tightened as she spoke. She killed quickly no chance for the doomed to talk their way out of it. He shivered, perhaps because of the cold, perhaps because he could feel an icy patch between his shoulders where Amberlee's arrow would land if he tried to run. "And how about you, how many have you killed?" she asked in return.

"More than I have fingers and toes," Lucan replied taking a bite of hard cheese. "As a Crusader we are there to keep the peace, not everyone feels the same."

"Collecting taxes, burning libraries is that keeping the peace?" Amberlee's words though spoken softly were hard as rock.

Lucan remained quiet, his appetite forgotten for a moment he moved the cheese about his mouth then spit out the hard tasteless lump. "When you bow to the king and the steel touches both your shoulders you become a Crusader in name," He placed one hand on his chest above his heart, "Many of us became Crusaders here, but that was a long time ago. Some forgot this, others merely no longer cared, they had the title they could do what they wanted and with a new king on the throne one that wishes war at every turn and people subjugated to his will and beliefs they will follow his command willingly."

"What happened at Brannen Fields?" Amberlee asked bluntly.

For a moment Lucan saw the hulking form of the giant approaching as the morning sun rose. "We fought, we lost." Lucan threw the cheese wedge into the fire. He could tell the response was not enough for Amberlee. He sighed, "King Balestre's army crossed into Timeros, apparently not happy that we had begun small raids into Dolan. We had come to expect a simple fight. I had heard the generals even got drunk the night before as they planned maneuverers, 'home in time for supper' one of my men heard that as they stood guard at the tent that night.




Timeros: A Clash Of Gods Ch. 03



"When they charged we held ranks. Archers fired, Crusaders on horseback charged into the fray banners flying and armour shined within an inch of its life. We looked like Gorgaroths legion army..." he paused, eyes fixing on the dwindling flame of the fire "And we fell." He swallowed hard realising his voice had cracked. "The rest is a blur. My horse was lost to me I fought on my own two legs, retreating the best I could to a better position calling other knights to me as I went. When I looked around more men had joined the fight. We had the advantage for a short while. A flanking move had caught them unaware and had divided them. Some generals runner found me gave me the message to fall back and re-mount and lead another charge," Lucan laughed at this, remembering laughing in the poor lads face just before a spear had ripped into his skull and showering Lucan in blood.

"I don't know who called the retreat, if there even was a call, suddenly my sworn brothers of the Crusaders were turning foot, fleeing, I called them cowards . . . and that's all I remember." He remembered more but the memory was like a hot knife twisting in his head. He would repay those who had abandoned him.

Amberlee stirred on the other side of the fire, "I'll take the first watch." She said standing up.

"And what if I run on my watch?" Lucan asked looking up at her.

"You won't." she replied.

The morning came with no ceremony. Before the sun had cleared the horizon they had gathered their meagre belongings and were on their way. On the ride down the mountain Amberlee had taken the lead now that they were crossing the foothills they rode side by side, "Do you know where to head to first?" she asked.

"Once we are beyond the forest we need to head north there is a small town called Zoroa. The man I need to see should be there. From there, it's only three days ride to Brannen fields."

Amberlee reined her horse in to a stop, "Dolan controls that land now, in fact most of Timeros is pretty much under the control of Dolan. When the Crusaders retreated it was not enough for King Balestre. He pushed forward. He wanted retribution for his god Barthan he wants the followers of Gorgaroth to pay. Balestre wants King Timmons on his knees." Amberlee watched her words sink in. She watched Lucan's shoulders slump and his head drop. "Once we leave the forest we will be treading dangerous ground, most of the Gorgaroth churches are burnt to the ground or empty save for the souls of the dead that walk there. Towns and villages have sworn fealty to their new king. Those that haven't are raised and made examples of. I'm sorry Lucan."

"It's not your fault, don't apologies. Why didn't Cazadora tell me any of this?"

Amberlee shrugged "I don't know the answer to that Lucan but you needed to know."

Lucan kicked his horse into a trot, "Come on, we have a way to go before we reach the forest. He fell into a silence for the rest of the ride, Amberlee left him alone keeping to her own thoughts and keeping a wary eye on the land, even this far south she knew they had to be careful.

Though Lucan was not forthcoming with words, his mind was full of them. How could they have fallen so hard on the battlefield? How could his men retreat? That was maddening to him, the retreat of men who had sworn a blood oath to Lucan and to Gorgaroth Himself. Perhaps that was why they had fallen. They no longer believed, took folly in their great honor so Gorgaroth had forsaken them. And now the land he had travelled as a Crusader was now nothing more than soil of a barbarian king and God. Lucan wondered if he stopped right now, dismounted his horse and just sat down, how long it would take for Cazadora to find out and for the finality of the curse to take him. He thought of asking Amberlee and faltered. 

Winter's forest

Lucan dismounted and knelt running his hands through the thick grass around his boots a small smile of pleasure on his lips. "What a simple feeling to miss. Nature on ones finger tips." He muttered to himself, he closed his eyes and listened to the wind sigh through the trees. 

They had come to a clearing not far into the forest that the Priestesses had used many times so Amberlee was quick in setting to work building a fire the sun was rapidly descending and she aimed to hunt a rabbit or two for their dinner, even after two days she had bored of the rations. She volunteered Lucan to fetch water which he did begrudgingly walking into the forest an old tanned bucket in one hand.

The stream flowed brisk and clean down from the mountains, the sun had warmed it but not by much and Lucan's first gulp felt wonderful. He removed his boots and bathed his feet in the water lying back and starring up at the tops of the trees and the blue sky beyond. The last time he lay down and starred at the sky he had been surrounded by the dead and dying himself, this it had to be said was a far more agreeable environment. For the moment Cazadora's far seeing eyes meant little to him, his thoughts were clear of bloodshed, curses and retribution. He had died and returned a moment like now was one that he had denied himself for far too long.

The sound of a twig snapping broke him from his thoughts. He sat upright, hand close to the hilt of his sword. He looked across the stream at a thicket of bushes and held his breath. A Flash of lighter green behind the thick interlocking branches that were covered in green buds, then the sound of another twig snapping he closed his hand around the hilt of his sword. The bushes parted and a woman stepped forward, a long green dress and dark brown hair that stretched all the way down to the small of her back. Lucan released his sword. The woman remained where she was and stared at him. Lucan raised his hand, "Hello there."

The woman stepped into the stream crossing it slowly the cold water having no effect on her as her eyes remained fixed on Lucan. She raised her arms pulling the dress from her shoulders the front parting and the dress slipping from her as the gentle current took hold of it, her approach never slowing. Lucan looked on bemused and amused. The woman's body was supple with high rounded breasts with perfectly round dark brown nipples her sex was hairless and her legs muscular and lean just like the rest of her. 

She finally reached Lucan and knelt before him in the water, he went to speak but closed his mouth the moment her hands hand begun to tug at his pants. "Wait, just a moment." Lucan said, the surprise rendering him momentarily helpless allowing the woman to continue. She freed his cock easily enough and she took hold of it gently in one hand. She leaned forward rubbing one nipple across his cock head then again with the other her eyes fixed on Lucan's own. He hardened in no time at all, her small hand made his cock look huge she stroked him slowly pulling his foreskin away from the head before lowering her mouth to him. He tried to speak again his mouth utter nothing but a slur, a sense of unease filled his mind, panic rising inside of him.

Lucan groaned out loudly as her tongue flicked across his cock, her grip tightened slightly as she ran her tongue first over the head then down one side and back up the other in a slow motion. He reached down clutching the back of her head, fingers digging into her thick luscious hair wanting to pull her off but instead holding her firmly in place urging her on. He felt her lips press against his tip then part as she took him in. At first it was only the tip she sucked, slowly her hand working rhythmically on the rest of his thick hard shaft, finally she lowered her head taking more, then more still until her hand became redundant, she had his whole length in her now sucking slowly. 

Her eyes never left Lucan's, he felt almost mesmerised by her, the panic inside him had reached a crescendo but was rapidly vanishing as was every other thought and feeling he had. The feeling of her mouth round his cock was amazing, never had he had a woman take his whole length like this before and those dark eyes seemed so lust filled and hungry at the same time. She started to speed up her lips tightened around his now slick shaft increasing the friction, somehow her tongue was working him from inside her mouth too almost like it was wrapped round it.

"Wait..." he slurred out, his hand on her head going limp, the forest air around him had turned cold. He looked at the woman, her eye contact never wavered, her motion never slowed, by Gorgaroth it felt so good but also it felt...wrong. Lucan felt himself close to cumming and instead of pleasure he felt the panic rising again, he tried to speak again but this time he simply fell back his energy and vitality draining from him as the lady revealed her true, grotesque being.

"Get away from him!" The scream seemed miles away, Lucan tried to move his head but every ounce of energy he had was gone.

Amberlee had waited patiently for Lucan to come back with the water, she knew he wouldn't run off, well she hoped he wouldn't run off. If he had, her instructions were clear, kill him and return home, something she hoped she would not have to do. Lucan was different, she could see it in him a part of her felt more for him and it made her blush. Finally she gave up waiting and made her way to the stream. When she stepped out up stream and saw Lucan and the fat woman she knew immediately that he was in trouble. 

"Get away from him!" She shouted pulling her bow from off her back and reaching for an arrow. The bloated woman paid no attention she continued bobbing away faster and faster. Her first arrow skimmed across the back of the naked woman but it was enough. The wood Nymph stood up, thick black hair matted to her grey skinned grotesque face. Her body disgustingly bloated and purple in patches, her breasts hung limp and lifeless black nipples dripped a vicious looking liquid. It was her tongue the held Amberlee's attention though it hung past her chin the tip ending in a sharp spike and flicked with wickedness towards Amberlee.

The wood nymph crouched down, even this bloated the nymph was agile and deceptively deadly. Amberlee had lost sisters to the Nymphs, acolytes mainly girls too young to know better. Others were well trained Priestesses over confident and quick to anger but Amberlee was not like those others. She readied an arrow and stood her ground, she would not make the first move. 

The nymph crouched and waited for the intruder to come to her. The Nymphs bloated fingers grasped at her side. She mouthed a curse in a forgotten tongue, the words spluttering out over cracked teeth and vicious tongue urging the young one to come to her to move forward so that the nymph could lunge and kill with ease. The young girl held her ground, bow readied. With a feral, angry howl the nymph launched forward. 

Amberlee moved quickly, darting forward and rolling, the bow slackened allowing her to use one hand to control her roll. She felt the Nymph fly over her no more than a hair width gap between them, later that night Amberlee would discover a slit in her top made by the hand of the Nymph and realised just how badly things could have turned out. But for now those thoughts were distant, she felt the ground vibrate when the Nymph landed with all her weight. Amberlee was already on her feet, in one fluid movement she turned her body and pulled her bow taunt, the arrow notched perfectly. The Nymph hand no time to turn, the arrow struck forward and penetrated just below the skull.

The Nymph turned gurgling nonsense, Amberlee found out why. Her Arrow had entered cleanly, the tip of which was now protruding through the Nymphs mouth. Blood flowed from the mouth the sickening tongue flicked weakly, wrapping around the wooden shaft before dropping away. The Nymph reached out grabbing Amberlee by the shoulders. Amberlee lifted a foot kicking instinctively. Blood erupted from the Nymphs mouth showering Amberlee's head and torso as her kick connected with its stomach. The Nymph fell back on the ground, twitching and gurgling until she was finally still.

Blue sky had turned to star filled blackness when Lucan finally came round. His feet were frozen and wrinkled like prunes when he pulled them from the stream his next surprise was the sight of his cock. It had looked like someone had taken a mini flail to it. Strips of angry red skin crisscrossed his shaft he touched it delicately and winced at the slight sting. "It looks worse than it actually is." Lucan jumped at the voice so close to his ear. He turned to see Amberlee inspecting his cock from besides him. He pushed his flaccid and now rather odd looking cock back beneath his pants and tried to look like it was not painful to do. Amberlee handed him some leaves. "Boil some water up with these in it then bathe it, that will help stop the stinging and reduce the redness." 

He took the leaves and noticed the dried blood on her face and clothes, "what happened?" She explained how she had found him, the wood nymph between his legs and the small fight that then ensued. "Well thank you for saving me, but the woman who I was with wasn't fat. They must have swapped at some point."

"I'm sure she was as you saw her at first, until she started to feed. They are like leeches but instead of blood its life force they take. Any longer you would have been dead." Lucan shivered at the thought, dead twice in one lifetime was a lot to stomach. 

Walking back into the woods towards camp, Lucan was finding comfort in having a companion like Amberlee at his side.

The pain was too much, he almost fainted the first time he put the water onto his shaft. He swallowed his pride and asked for Amberlee's help. He lay down on his back and gritted his teeth. The first few times it was like fire, he cried out with each pass of the cloth then finally it began to ease. Before he knew it he was asleep, exhausted.

He awoke with a start, the hilt of his sword was in his hand and the giant was stood over him once again but with each intake of breath the giant evaporated like smoke until he was gone. The stars had moved on some and the moon now lit up the clearing. The fire was a smouldering pit of embers he grabbed his bedding that he had kicked off during his frantic dream fight with the giant. As he lay down again he heard a whimper from Amberlee, he looked over across the fire pit to the sleeping form. She was lying on her stomach head turned from him. He expected she was not having the best dream in the world either another whimper a little louder this time and he decided it might be best to wake her. He pulled down his sheet to stand up when he noticed her hips.

Beneath her sheet Amberlee's hips were rising and falling ever so slowly almost not noticeable. He stopped moving and stared. The wind blew softly and with it brought a sigh or a moan from Amberlee, her hips rose higher now and with more rhythm. Lucan knew he should not be watching that he should roll away and sleep but he couldn't take his eyes from her. He didn't need the wind to carry the next moan. It was loud and drawn out with small gasps her hips bucked frantically and then all was still. Lucan lay back down, but sleep was a long time coming.



Timeros: A Clash Of Gods Ch. 04



Outskirts of Zoroa

Golman had the priest firmly by the neck lifting him cleanly from the ground bringing him face to face with the giant. The priest sucked in what air he could but his face was rapidly turning to the color of a bad bruise. Rosen stood a little way off, cursing himself for letting the situation get out of hand. 

They had warned the priests, they had given them ample opportunity to leave, much to Golman and his men's displeasure. The arrow that had been fired from the church doorway had not even reached their feet but it had been enough to send Golman charging up the stone steps and send the heavy wooden door crashing in as he shouldered into it. And now they were here, standing in the crossroads, with the remaining priests that Golman had not torn apart.

Rosen stepped forward, "Put him down Golman." He said as he walked to the giant. Golman's hand visibly tightened, "That, in case you were mistaken, was an order." The Giant bared his teeth to the priest and let go, the body crumpling to the road grasping for breath. A large quantity of the townsfolk had turned up a motley bunch that sneered until they were noticed then tried their best to look interested in their boots. Others were clearly happy to see some sort of entertainment. Rosen felt sickened, his taste for needless death long since diminished.

"They shot an arrow at me." Golman growled delivering a swift kick lifting the limp body of the gasping priest at his feet. 

Rosen decided not to push the Giant on the fact that the arrow was aimed at all of them and no one in particular, "And I believe you killed three priests in the church one of which," As he spoke Rosen maneuvered himself so that he stood directly between the prone priest and the giant. "Was holding a bow."

Golman looked down at him, a deep growl emitted from the giant's throat before he stepped down. "So what do we do with these ones?" he asked.

Rosen had taken them to the cross roads for a reason. Here in the fork of the road hung three metal caged gibbets, all empty. He had seen them earlier that day as they were riding into the town making a mental note of them should the need arise that their services were needed. Three of the priests were lifted and forcibly pushed into a cage each, Rosen hardly heard their plea's he was too busy looking at the crowd that had gathered noting their reaction. He was surprised to hear a cheer as the last cage clanged shut. "We have one spare Captain." Golman said, lifting his early play thing to his feet. "What do we do with this one?"

Rosen nodded but did not respond straight away. His stomach was clenched in an icy grip and he focused on keeping his voice calm and in control as he beckoned one of his men over. "Go find some wood. I want three stacks under each cage." The soldier nodded and quickly walked over calling two more men to his aid as they headed off at a pace into town.

As the sun started to disappear behind the low hills in the west the last of the wood was placed under the gibbets. Rosen watched the disk of fire slipping down, somewhere in that direction his love was waiting, he wondered if she was watching the sunset too. He quickly shook Oundle from his thoughts. For this next task he did not even want his own thought of Oundle to witness it.

Golman, stood leaning on one of the wooden masts that held the metal gibbet off the ground, he was whispering to the priest inside who sobbed loudly and openly. "Enough taunting." Rosen said a surprising amount of anger in his tone. Golman glared at Rosen then thundered off.

Rosen stood before the gibbet's the crowd had swelled considerably as word got about that Dolan soldiers had captured Gorgaroth priests. "These men are accused of Treason and blasphemy of our," Rosen stopped himself then continued, "Your good king Balestre and your god Barthan. Does anyone here stand as naysayers to these crimes?" The crowd murmured but no one stood forth as Rosen had expected. 

The remaining priest was brought forth his hands bound with heavy rope and clutched and bound between his hands a lit torch burnt. Rosen swallowed the bile that bit at the back of his throat and whispered forgiveness to Oundle before continuing. "Your brothers are guilty. The flames will purify that guilt." The priest shook his head mouth opening to protest but before he could Golman grabbed him by the back of his robe and dragged him to the closest Gibbet. 

The dry wood caught and the rising flames quickly began to eat hungrily at the fuel. The priest in the cage cried out pushing himself against the bars, arms stretched out pleading for forgiveness, pleading for life. Golman laughed and spat in his face. The next two fires started just as quickly. The caged priests cried for help, those cries turning quickly to pain and anguish as first the wood was consumed by the hungry flames then the priests themselves became fuel. Many of the townsfolk turned foot and ran back to their homes crying in fear for their own lives. "Pretty sight," Golman said as the first priest's robes caught fire, "That one over there looks like a candle." he said with glee in his voice as another priests hair caught fire.

Rosen lifted his gloved hand to his mouth coughing away the vomit that threatened to rise at the stench of cooking flesh. He wanted to weep and not because of the smoke, he was again becoming that which he hated, knowing if he did not his life and that of Oundle were forfeit. "Take him to the church." Rosen said to Golman as he pointed to the remaining priest who knelt on the ground weeping and praying the burning torch still strapped to his bound hands. Golman looked at him wide eyed, fury hardening the glare, Rosen did not react. "Burn the church with him in it, stand inside and watch him go up in flames if you want. But not here." 

"Your love for a warm cunt has made you a weakling." Golman spat at his Captain. Rosen gave no response. Golman grabbed the priest lifting him up and dragging him as he tried to find his feet towards the town.

'And this is only the start.' Rosen thought to himself. He had to become Captain Farringdon Rosen the ruthless and blood thirsty man that children back in Dolan heard terrible stories about. That man had died but now, now he would have to be resurrected if he wanted any chance of surviving the coming months and the battle that was surely facing him on his return to Dracon Castle.

Winter's Forest, dawn

Breakfast was made up of the same old bread, cold meat and a hard cheese that Lucan was quickly growing to loath, "We make the cheese ourselves, it may not taste wonderful but it has enough in there to keep a grown man on his feet for a whole day." Amberlee said noticing the way Lucan picked, fingered and eyed the cheese suspiciously as much as he had done the first night in the foothills. She waited for Lucan to finish chewing before asking a question. "How are you feeling this morning?"

Lucan looked up at the sky. The sun had yet to break the horizon, only a pale hint of pink could be seen in the east and Old Man could still be seen casting his ghostly white light. "Morning starts when the sun can be seen, this is still night time. As for how I am feeling," he fidgeted on the ground, "better than I did last night." when he wandered off to find somewhere to relive his aching bladder, Lucan had held his breath when he pulled his cock free and gave a loud sigh of relief as he noticed the inflammation had already receded, the terrible looking lacerations a pale pink on his limp shaft and the pain was now nothing more than a dull itch.

Amberlee smiled, "A knight who only works when the sun rises, you are as old as they say." She goaded.

Lucan spat out a lump of cheese that refused to breakdown between his teeth. "Perhaps I am, as I cannot even chew this blasted cheese." He gave a soft laugh, one that even he had not heard in a long time and was happy to see Amberlee laugh and smile in return. He now had his own question to ask. "How long did you watch for?" Amberlee looked at him a small frown creasing her forehead. "At the battle, how long did you watch?"

Amberlee placed her plate to one side and took a sip from her small cup. "We were meant to be heading home, but Alotta came with orders that we were to head there and bring you back if you were alive, she was not impressed."

Alotta had found Amberlee and the younger Olivia packing the open cart in the small town of Silva. Both the younger priestesses knew better than to question their orders and dutifully followed. The sound of battle could be heard before they even reached the top of the hill. Olivia had squeezed the hand of Amberlee so hard that she lost all feeling. The roars of men and not-men chilled her blood even. Once they had reached the top of the hill the sight had made Amberlee loose her breath.

Utter chaos sprawled out beneath them. It was like watching two tides competing. One side would swell and push forward breaking onto a wall of Armour then the second side would return the favor. The sky blackened with arrows that rained down on foe and friend alike. A horse charge from the Crusaders was crushed beneath a barrage of giants with war axes and hammers. Unceasingly the battle continued into the night until dawn came when they finally saw that any Crusader that had not died on the field had turned tail and fled, that is, all but one. 

Amberlee knew that he was the one they were sent to retrieve. He stood on the battlefield all alone yet he looked stronger than any army could. Here was a man unlike any she had seen before. Then the giant rose up. She had let out an audible gasp as the man fought and won over the giant, the gasp had received a tight, angry scowl from Alotta but Amberlee did not care, chores would be a simple payment for witnessing such a site.

Winter's Forest

The rain had started just as they left the last stand of trees of the forest. They sat on a slight rise a road wound across the land beneath them and nothing moved on it in either direction. Amberlee scanned the horizon, her eyes following the road as well as noting small rises, trying to second guess an enemy they had yet to face. They could not sit on top of the rise forever already the rain was soaking into their clothing, she made up her mind. "The road ahead looks safe for now." She said and spurred her horse forward

Lucan of Aldemar looked out across the land as they trotted down the incline to meet the road that would lead them to Zoroa. He had expected some sort of change, a sign that Dolan and the God Barthan now resided here, yet all looked the same. He felt a small sense of disappointment. Gorgaroth the First Son had blessed the land. Barthan the Destroyer took it away yet here there was no sign of destruction. The season of New born would be coming to an end and Sumarlord would be upon them, hot days, and warm lazy nights and all about them life flourished unaware of the changes that a battle over six months ago had started. "So strange that it looks and feels no different than the last time I saw the land." Lucan said looking about.

"The land does not carry all the scars, when we are all gone it will still be here. But if you look closely it has changed some. The animals are not as friendly and the fields will give less harvest at the Reaping you can mark my words on that one." 'This young girl,' Lucan thought 'speaks far wiser than she looks'. Seeing that war had not destroyed his land completely and there was still some hope in setting things right had lightened Lucan's sorrow somewhat, perhaps Gorgaroth had not left the land altogether.

The journey was lonesome, for endless hours they saw no other travelers. At noon they had stopped to eat in a burnt out shell that was once a humble farm house, the partial roof providing small respite from the pouring rain. They discussed holding up for the day in hopes that the morning would bring better travelling conditions but they both agreed that where they currently were did not feel very safe. A few more hours and they would make Zoroa, a far safer and dryer option.

At the crossroads they discovered the three cages. They hung on stout wooden poles at least six feet off the ground. Their contents could be discerned as that of three men only by their actual bulk and outline, their features had been consumed by the ravages of fire. Amberlee crinkled her nose at the smell that even the rain could not dampen entirely and she kept her distance while Lucan had ridden in for a closer look. 

The cages were blackened around the bars. "They were burnt alive inside their cages," he called back to Amberlee. Inside the cage the remains sat, no hair remained on the head, the skin had blackened and burnt and in places pulled apart revealing bone and teeth on what was once a face. Clothing and skin had melted together leaving no distinguishing marks. "Beggars perhaps or thieves maybe. Either way this is not a way to punish a man." 

The small town of Zoroa was a welcome site at the end of a long days ride. That was until they reached the center. People were quick to shy away from the strangers, conversations halted and suddenly the ground or the stores window became the center of attention. Lucan wanted dry clothes and a bed, but what he wanted more was to see the inside of a church, he had been gone six months and there was much to discuss with Gorgaroth.

The Zoroa Church of Gorgaroth was nothing more than tumbled rock and shattered glass. Here and there a wall or archway still stood, blackened by smoke and fire giving you an after image of what the church possibly looked like in better times. Everyone he called out to ignored him and moved quickly away. They retreated to an inn not far from the church. A bed was hopefully not closed to them.

The Maid's Inn, Zoroa

What life Zoroa had lost outside the inn, inside, it remained bustling. The difference had thrown Lucan at first, laughter and song peeled out from the bar and from tables and booths set in dark corners. Their entrance had made people look up and take note, especially Amberlee, Lucan had noted. All simple curiosity and quickly forgotten as the curious returned to their tales and songs. Lucan hastily made for the bar his disheveled wet clothes forgotten for the time being for the one thought that invaded his mind. His first sip of ale sent waves of pleasure across his body, his face breaking out into a huge grin that took the barman by surprise. "Thirsty?" The barman asked warily. Lucan laughed and downed the jug quickly, banging it twice on the counter for another. It appeared quickly on the counter. Lucan went to thank the barman and caught his words. A woman stood holding the jug. Dark hair, pale skin and ample bosom and rounded hips she smiled at Lucan and walked off to serve another, far louder and drunken customer.

"Isn't she something?" An old man sat next to Lucan said nudging him in the arm with his elbow, "How someone like old Spinks there got a wife like that is anyone's guess," he said nodding his head towards the barman "And they say money doesn't buy you pleasure." He laughed loudly leaving Lucan's right ear ringing. He looked at the fat, red-faced bar man and then at the bar maid, Lucan had a hard time in seeing the attraction he had to admit. "Molly's 'er name sired three children for Old Spinks never knew he had it in 'im. Betting she's had plenty of 'im in 'er though." Another loud laugh and Lucan leaned away.

Amberlee leaned in "Perhaps we can find somewhere a little less noisy." She said disliking the bawdy chat from the start.

"Oswald you best not be upsetting paying customers," Molly had walked over after handing over yet another jug of ale. She put a lot of emphasis on the paying Lucan had noted. "Ignore him if I were you, Oswald has a way of rubbing people up the wrong way sometimes." She gave Lucan a wide smile and glanced briefly at Amberlee registering that she was present but not much else. Lucan smiled back dumbly a little lost for words. "Not much of a talker eh?" The woman called Molly said leaning on the bar her ample cleavage squashed and pushed further up.

"I'm sorry, excuse my manners," Lucan said hoarsely, he coughed and cleared his throat, "When one is met with such beauty words can be hard to come by." How those words came back so easily to his lips. "I am Lucan of Aldemar," the look on Molly's face made him stop, she looked around making sure no one else had heard him even Oswald stared at him as if he had declared himself Ibris God of All.

Molly leant in close, "You should be wise enough not to call out your lands name so freely in these times unless you're after unwanted visitors in the night." She stood up straight again smiling as if nothing had happened.

"I have been out of the lands for awhile and perhaps I have forgotten where I now tread is different than when I was last here." Lucan had been lost in the moment, lost in seducing the woman before him. Molly relaxed her smile now natural again. "Or perhaps it is being blessed with seeing a woman such as you has made me confused." She laughed and shook her head. "I should return to my flagon and perhaps drink my confusion away." He stood up, downing his second jug of ale. He asked for two rooms one for himself and one for his daughter. "We have had a long ride and are in need of a hot baths and dry clothes."

"Perhaps it would be wiser to stay for one more?" Oswald's slurred voice had taken on the air of command. Lucan turned to look at the drunkard and was startled by the transformation before him. Beneath the grey whiskers and heavy brow keen eyes glinted out at him. "There is a booth free just over there, please join us for one more." With his curiosity pricked Lucan followed close behind watching Oswald walk with a drunken gait bumping into people and slurring a hello or a profanity in their direction.

"We should not be doing this. We need rooms not attention." Amberlee hissed at Lucan.

"What we need is information." Lucan retorted.

In the booth neither man spoke as they sat opposite one another. Lucan went to speak first but Oswald shook his head once. After awhile Molly finally joined them, she sat down next to Oswald and placed two jugs of ale on the table before both men. Amberlee crossed her arms, annoyed that a drink for her, though unwanted had not been brought over. "We did not expect to see a Crusader in Zoroa," Molly began, "especially one so stupid to call out his name." Amberlee shifted uncomfortably next to Lucan.

Lucan raised his eyebrows. Both Oswald and Molly had become different people, hard and steely in tongue and looks. "Forgive me then for I was speaking as a suitor would to a lady, not as a Crusader to a spy." Even in the dim light of the booth Lucan could see Molly's cheeks blush red.

"We are not spies, rather renegades. Followers of Gorgaroth still but in these lands that name is a death warrant, we speak it in hushed tones until we can rise once more." Oswald said. "And we are at your disposal Crusader Knight of Aldemar." He finished and bowed his head low almost touching the table top.

"What happened here?" Amberlee asked.

Molly hesitated looking between the two of them before she began the story. She was quick with her words, spilling them out as if she had been storing them for too long. "Fourteen of them carrying King Balestre's banner, one of them was Giant." Lucan felt his heart skip at the mention of a Giant. They had ridden in only a day earlier Molly went on to say "They headed straight for the church. Demanded the priests leave, when they didn't...the Giant went in." Her voice strained at the memory of it.

"Then they took the priests," Oswald continued, "Took them to the crossroads and locked them up in cages. The troop's commander a man called Rosen called them traitors and blasphemers. Then he set them on fire. He laughed as they screamed and prayed for mercy." Even Oswald's eyes had filled with tears. Lucan sat shocked at the story, at the sheer brutality of the Dolan man, he gritted his teeth wanting nothing more than for this Rosen to walk into the bar and be greeted by the sight of a Crusader armed with the wrath of Gorgaroth. 




Timeros: A Clash Of Gods Ch. 04



"There are still Crusaders that honor the name hidden here and there. We hear news of skirmishes being fought all the time." Molly's voice had returned calm and soothing, "You may be able to find them if you keep heading north." She reached out her hands and took Lucan's right hand and held it firmly, "Do not give up hope yet."

Lucan leaned in "A Crusader by the name Mikohn, he was from here, had a home in this very town. Where is he?"

Molly and Oswald exchanged glances, "He left," Oswald said quietly. "The priests hid him when Rosen turned up," his words turned cold and hard as he continued to talk, "he snuck out through an underground passage before the giant went in. He did nothing to fight off the Giant or that Rosen. Turned tail and fled."

Maids Inn, Zoroa

Lucan had stripped to his under garments and sat on the edge of the bed his head buried in his hands. Mikohn held the amulet and had fled leaving no clue to where he was heading. He had pushed the best he could for more information but Oswald and Molly knew no more or at least seemed not to. Lucan and Amberlee had rooms side by side just as Lucan was stepping into his Amberlee had stopped him. "They know more than they are letting on." She had said.

"Then why won't they tell me?" Lucan asked sighing.

Amberlee looked at him with some surprise, "A Crusader from their own town deserts them in their time of need, why would they want to trust another one?" She went into her room letting the question hang.

The knock at Lucan's bedroom door was so soft that, for a moment he believed that he had simply imagined it until there was another knock, this time firmer. He opened the door a crack, hiding his drawn sword behind the door itself. Molly stood on the other side, towels draped over one arm though he had expected and hoped to see Amberlee this was still a pleasant surprise. "I suspect that our house Dwarf has failed to leave you towels." Molly said lifting her arm and showing the towels draped over it. Lucan opened the door wider and invited her in. "Some days we are amazed that guests make it to their rooms." Molly looked around the room as if she had never been in there before.

"My Armour sadly did not accompany me on my current journey," Lucan said and noted the momentary look of sadness that crossed Molly's face. He placed the sword back into its sheaf and placed next to the bed. "Thank you for the towels." He said, taking them from Molly, "A delivery from the mistress of the house is always welcome as well." 

"You must wonder why I am with Spinks?" Molly asked. Lucan shrugged, "If it were not for him I would be on the streets or dead, he took me in when others would not. He is a good man, a family man." Molly walked into the small bathroom, noting the full bath. "He is kind to me and I in return am kind to him. Tell me Crusader, are you a family man?"

"With War, finding a good woman proved difficult." He replied the truth of it was he had not wanted the baggage of a wife and child his mind was that of a soldier and a knight any weak thoughts could betray his sword hand.

Molly leaned on the door frame of the bathroom looking at Lucan. "A good woman is not always required." She beckoned him into the bathroom. "Spinks is a good man and a good father. But as a lover he leaves me wanting." Molly reached up and ran her hand across the bearded face of Lucan and down his chest, her fingers finding his rough chest hair and thick skin of old wounds. She guided him to remove the rest of his under clothes no words were spoken as he stood naked before her a small smile broke across her lips as she took his hand and led him to the bath.

The water surrounded Lucan from the chest down, he leaned his head back on the bath and sighed as he felt the hands of Molly run across his chest washing away the long ride and the memory of his burden. Her touch was gentle as she rubbed a coarse soap into his skin with bristled brush. "Tell me more of Mikohn." Lucan said lazily.

"I lied when I said we had no idea where he had gone," The brush was put aside and she scooped up warm water from the bath and poured it over Lucan's chest. "There is a mining town further south no more than half a day's ride from here. Mikohn has a wife there," Lucan's eyes opened at this unexpected news, "His third or fourth I'm not sure which but if he has any wits about him he'll go there and bury himself deep in one of those mines."

Amberlee had been right about their holding back of information, what concerned him now was how much he could truly trust them. As if Molly could see his thoughts her soapy hand reached down to the swollen mass between his legs, Lucan's thoughts slipped freely from his mind, he let out a gasp as her slippery hand took a hold of him. "A Crusader's sword must always be cleaned my lord." Molly said meekly.

He held her from behind, his wet body pressed against her clothes. Lucan buried his head in her tangled dark chestnut hair breathing in the scent of the bar as well as the sweeter smell of Molly. His mouth found the nape of her neck and he began to kiss it while his hands pulled at the string that held the corset firmly in place at the front. Molly giggled and wriggled her ample backside against his rigid cock making Lucan work the string more frantically.

As he felt the corset loosen Molly pushed away from him almost sending him toppling on unsteady feet. She smiled at him and pulled the corset away quickly followed by the linen blouse beneath. Molly's breasts were pale heavy globes of flesh, freckled across the top with large dark areola and thick dark nipples that were already hard with excitement. Lucan came to her willingly, head lowered his hand taking the weight of one heavy breast while his mouth sort purchase on the nipple.

Molly sighed at the sensation of Lucan's tongue on her nipple and groaned as he took it between his teeth a small bite eliciting a louder sigh. Molly's hand snaked between them finding Lucan's erect cock, she worked it slowly as his mouth and hands groped, licked, kissed and bit at her ample breasts.

Lucan wasted no time removing her skirt he pulled it as high as it would go revealing her pale thick hips and heavy dark bushy mound between them. Her sex was already moist, lips puffy and parted inviting the Crusader's sword in, it had been too long even with the slight discomfort that the wood Nymph had left him with he could not wait any longer. His tip slipped between her labia and followed through into her warm center. Molly took a deep breath as he guided his length deep into her. 

Lucan felt like a young again. His first time was like this, quick rapid movements disjointed with that of his partner, Molly gasped with each thrust and managed to get both her hands on his chest, "Easy my lover," she said slowing him down, his hips met Molly's own rhythm, his cock going deeper as she lifted her hips. His mouth found her breasts once more now red with excursion as well has his amorous longing. 

Lucan felt Molly's hand slip between them, fingers parting round his cock as she took hold of her sex, he paused for a moment looking at her questioningly, Molly laughed gently, "I have my own pleasures too you know." She said. Lucan continued his strokes with each thrust he could feel Molly's hand and fingers working at her sex the motion spurring him on. Lucan sat up on his knee's hands gripping Molly's hips. His cock stretching her wide as it went in and out, her hand rubbing at an area just above her opening. 

Molly bucked her hips, her sighs becoming moans and gasps, Lucan remained still as he watched transfixed. Molly's chest flushed red, she bit her lower lip as she peaked but still her moan was loud, her body shuddered on the end of Lucan's cock that was still buried deep inside her. A smile creased her face as her muscles relaxed her hips sinking down into the mattress. 

Lucan had his own smile on his face as he began his thrusting once more finding Molly's hole wetter than previously. His own release was not too far behind, he pulled free of her at the last moment and grabbed his stiff, wet cock as his cum erupted forth splattering Molly's belly, his own hips bucked as he worked his wet cock slowly ribbons of fluid shooting forth before, at last it became a thin oozing line that connected both of them.

He flopped down next to her she rolled over placing one hand on his chest her head on his shoulders, both breathed heavily from the exertion. "It has been a long time for you Lucan hasn't it." He nodded then laughed hoping that Cazadora's far seeing eyes had seen the display, so much for being a rutting animal he thought as sleep took hold of him.

The Maid's inn, Zoroa, Daybreak

The loud morning call of the Cockerel woke Lucan with a start. He looked around his small room and noted that Molly had already left. He ran his hand over the side of the bed she had fallen asleep on. It was cold so he assumed she had left at some point later that evening to return to her husband. Lucan lay still listening to the Cockerel repeating his morning call and stared at the beamed ceiling. Last night had been something he realized he had sorely missed over the past couple of months, the past couple of years Lucan realized if, Cazadora and the wood Nymph not counting. Throughout the night he had felt younger more energized than he had felt in a long time, Molly had not been shy in showing Lucan what she wanted and in return more and more information had been exchanged. As the Cockerels startled morning call rang out it brought with it a certain truth, Lucan wanted to sleep some more, sleep like an old man, climb from his bedstead when he wanted to not be afoot so early in the day. Quests and honor were no longer the be all of his life...a wife and child would have gotten in the way of the young Lucan, the old Lucan wanted nothing more than to have a wife and child to awaken to.

He groaned as he lifted himself from the soft bed feeling his bones aching deep in their core, his muscles stiff from not only the night's exertions but also the horse ride. He caught sight of himself in the mirror. At the house of Dianna he had noted there that he had looked strange somehow but put it down to his greying beard as well as the slight matter of being brought back to life. But now he saw what was truly there, he was old and weary. His life serving Gorgaroth had ended on the battlefield. His new life serving under Dianna was fresh but he knew staring at himself that it too would come to an end. He dressed quickly and refused to look at himself in the mirror or any other mirror for a long time.

The knocking at the door was incessant. Lucan buckled his sword to his side and opened the door. Amberlee stood there arm raised fist curled mid knock. "If you drink so much then you will get no sympathy from me," Amberlee said the moment Lucan had opened his door and laid eyes on the very tired looking Crusader. "I warned you we had an early start. What did you do? Wait an hour then sneak back down?" And with that she made her way down the corridor not waiting to hear a reply from Lucan, who seemed bemused by how off Amberlee seemed this morning.

The Bar was empty and dark the smell of last night's ale hung thick in the air as did the sour stench of vomit. The Bar man Spinks was nowhere to be seen but Molly stood near the bar itself leaning down whispering in harsh tones to the Dwarf that had shown Lucan and Amberlee to their room the previous evening. Amberlee had taken a seat at a table and picked suspiciously at the food that sat on the table before her. "I did not drink heavy last night, simply a bad night's sleep." Lucan said sitting down opposite Amberlee. "For your information I was finding out where Mikohn has scurried off to."

Amberlee huffed, "no doubt the whore kept you up most of the night getting that information."

"What did you say?" Lucan asked, as he spooned some meat into his mouth. Amberlee's red hair hung loose this morning cascading over her shoulders, she stared at Lucan her grey eyes like flints of rock. "Anyway Mikohn is not far from here another half days ride in a place called Miller's Folly." Amberlee's hatred for Molly was quite visible, a hatred that Lucan found misplaced.

Amberlee shook her head and pushed her plate to one side muttering to herself under her breath. Molly looked at her furrowing her brow and hurried the Dwarf away. "Is our food not to your liking?" Molly asked approaching the table. She rested a hand on Lucan's shoulder then removed it quickly realizing her error and catching a sharp look from the young girl. "Spinks is not the best in the kitchen. Perhaps I can get you something else." Amberlee shook her head, and declined the offer. Molly offered her a drink instead. Again Amberlee declined much to Molly's dissatisfaction.

"We need to leave soon if we are to get to Miller's Folly by midday," Amberlee said to Lucan ignoring Molly as if she was no longer there. "The sun is already up and I feel uncomfortable staying in one place for too long."

Lucan nodded in agreement as he spooned the last remnants of his breakfast into his mouth. "Agreed, from what I was told last night most of this land is now crawling with Dolan men." He gave Molly a smile, "the longer we are moving the better." He pushed the empty plate aside and stood up. 

"Are you sure I cannot get you anything else?" Her voice had raised a notch, her hands kneading together in front of her stomach as she moved in front of the two of them.

Amberlee was beside Lucan a look of concern on her face. It did not take a trained eye to notice that Molly was blocking the only way to the front door. With her bow safely stored on her back any action to remove it would set off alarm bells. Amberlee instead reached slowly to her belt pulling the small dirk free slipping the hilt and blade up her sleeve. Amberlee's movements were slow and fluid her eyes remaining on Molly as she spoke to Lucan, "A long ride you need to be well fed and watered. " 

Amberlee dropped all pretense of being amiable towards Molly and huffed loudly pushing past her, her shoulder driving into her forcibly moving the doughy woman to one side, she was thankful to hear Lucan's own footsteps close behind her. "Something is not right." She heard him whisper as she pulled the door open.

Outside the sun struggled through low hanging grey clouds yesterday's rain had left the ground a muddy mess. Fear hung in the air, Amberlee could sense it and it was not the coming of bad weather that had people scared. The fear of the Dolan men Amberlee guessed was the cause of the atmosphere. A fleeting sight of the bodies in the cages came to mind and she shivered at the thought.

"I sent our House Dwarf to gather your horses from the stables he should not be much longer," Molly said as she too came out from the inn a horrible unnatural smile on her face her eyes moving between Lucan and the barren street. "Ah here's Oswald to see you on your way." 

The old man scurried up the street panting, heavily out of breath a mangy looking horse followed behind him looking wearier than the man that led it by the reins. He seemed surprised to see both Lucan and Amberlee, whatever he was going to say failed suddenly on his lips as he looked quickly at Molly. He swallowed hard and finally spoke, "Up early I see, Lucky I came back when I did. I went out early scouting the land seeing who was about, I'd say you have a clear ride to Miller's Folly." 

Amberlee looked at Lucan, who furrowed his brow at the mention of Miller's Folly, Oswald was returning from the wrong direction and Lucan had only informed Molly of their next destination lying in bed with one hand cupping an ample tit late in the night. Lucan's body tensed his hand gripping the hilt of his sword he turned to Amberlee, "fetch the horses anyone tries to stop you, kill them."

Molly stepped forward her mouth opening to speak as Amberlee darted off, Lucan silenced her with a cold stare. It was only minutes but to Lucan it felt like hours waiting for Amberlee to appear. As he turned to walk to the stables Amberlee came round the corner with their horses, already saddled and ready to ride. "Any trouble?" he asked taking the reins of his horse. 

Amberlee nodded her jaw clenched tight her lips pale, she mounted her own horse quickly, her reply was short "Just the dwarf." 

"Please!" Oswald's voice was weak and high, his horse had been forgotten for the moment in his hands he held an old dull sword. He pointed the tip that shook with fear and weight towards Lucan. "Remain where you are." His voice lacked any authority only desperation.

Lucan's own sword swept forward quickly, Oswald had chance only to see the gleam as it was unsheathed, his own sword jabbing forward to catch the horse in the neck. The sound was terrible. Metal struck metal in a high pitched whine Oswald's sword snatched from his grasp in one mighty swipe went flying landing in the mud shorn in two. 

Now Lucan pointed his own sword at Oswald. "Fool!" Lucan spat at him wanting nothing more than to cut the man in two as he had done with his pathetic sword. The fury began to ebb the longer he stayed his hand. "We are out of time." He said to Amberlee, the sound of thundering hooves had begun to fill the air. He sheathed his sword quickly as he spun his horse about, he moved quicker than he would have liked in the mud but they had little choice, they had become prey and the hunters were closing in.