Caution: This Fantasy Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft, ft/ft, Consensual, Lesbian, Heterosexual, High Fantasy, Spanking, Anal Sex, Analingus, Cream Pie, Oral Sex, Public Sex, .
Desc: Fantasy Story: Prologue - Two knights of Baranthia are given missions to check on rumors. This will separate the two, who are close, for an unknown length of time.
The Stronghold, Batun, Kingdom of Briathone:
A pretty girl, appearing to be in her mid teens, wearing a short-sleeved tunic and loose trews escorts a slightly older man, perhaps a bit under twenty, through a thick oak door. The young man is in similar dress, but wears a sleeveless surcoat emblazoned with a coat of arms. The muscles in his arms are well defined without being bulky.
The room he’s led into has embroidered tapestries on the walls, an ornate desk near a glazed window and a large table with three chairs behind it to one side. Behind the desk sits an older man, streaks of gray in his auburn hair and a neatly trimmed salt and pepper beard. He stands as the pair approach and comes out from behind the desk.
“Thank you, Eryn,” the middle-aged man says.
The girl bows as she says, “My Lord.” Then she goes back through the door, closing it behind her.
Despite his years, he stands tall and the muscles in his arms are also well defined. He too is in tunic and trews with a surcoat that bears the same coat of arms as the younger man’s, only the edges of his is trimmed with gold embroidery.
“The King and I both appreciate the sacrifice you’re making, Sir t’Kalsham,” the older man says holding out his hand.
T’Kalsham clasps the offered hand and gives a firm handshake before releasing it. “I still do not understand why I was selected for this, My Lord. Wouldn’t a more experienced Knight be better?”
“For this we need someone younger, barely into their spurs. Having earned yours barely two years ago puts you in the proper age. What raised you to the top of that list was your handling of the situation on the northern border. You proved your inquisitiveness in ferreting out the truth and a skill at diplomacy in bringing about a peaceful resolution to that situation. While you are not the best fighter in the Order, those are the skills most needed for this and the other candidates fall a bit short in those areas.”
“I appreciate your confidence in me Lord Commander. I know this will be hard, and not only on me.”
A soft smile from the older man. “I know you and Lady tr’Krithia are favored of each other, perhaps a bit more than the letter of your Vows would permit.”
An embarrassed grin from the younger man. “It seems there are very few secrets in the Stronghold, My Lord. It is true that were we permitted, we would probably bond. But we both swore to uphold our duty and while we might bend our Vow of not forming a permanent commitment, I swear to you that neither of us have broken it.”
“From me there are no secrets here, my spies are everywhere,” the older man chuckles. “I’m also quite aware that while you both skirt the edges of the Vow, you have yet to cross the line entirely, else I would have taken official notice.”
A nod from t’Kalsham in acknowledgment, then the Lord Commander gets serious. “I will spare her the pain of what must happen to you as much as I can. You will leave in a week, she leaves in three days for a mission that is similar to yours. As one of our few mage-sensitives, she’ll be searching for any dark magics being practiced within the Kingdom. When she returns, hopefully the worst of the rumors will be gone and I’ll inform her then that all is not as it seems as regards to you.”
“Thank you, My Lord.”
“Two final things for you.” The older man grabs a scroll from his desk. “This is a list of trusted couriers scattered throughout the other Kingdoms. Any messages given to them will come to me directly. I don’t expect regular reports, only as you are able. Memorize it then burn it.”
“Yes, My Lord,” t’Kalsham says as he tucks the scroll in his tunic. “The other item?”
A second, smaller scroll is picked up. “This stays here. It’s signed by myself, the King, The High Priest of Lacht and the High Priestess of Brigh. It gives you dispensation for violations of one of your other Vows.” At a raised eyebrow from the younger man, the Lord Commander huffs and says, “The one about allowable ... interactions.”
t’Kalsham looks uncomfortable. “My Lord, I took my Vows very seriously. While I might bend one slightly, that one I have never even considered violating.”
“I know, but if you tried to keep to this one you could be unmasked. I know it will be difficult for you breaking that, but it needs to be done to keep your secret safe and the mission continuing. The King requested it and when informed of the nature of your mission, the High Priest and Priestess agreed.”
“I still do not like it, My Lord.”
“Like it or not, you need to break that Vow frequently if you are to not be found out.” He puts the scroll back on the desk. “This gives you leave to do that.”
A heavy sigh. “I will have to rededicate and purify myself when I return before I will feel fit to rejoin the ranks.”
“What ever it takes, Sir t’Kalsham. Now, since Lady tr’Krithia has already been informed of her mission, perhaps a special goodbye is in order.” A chuckle from the older man. “Just make sure she can sit in her saddle.”
The younger man grins. “Oh she’ll be able to sit, My Lord. It just might be a little uncomfortable for her.”
“Ah to be young again,” the older man muses.
A snicker from t’Kalsham. “My Lord, while you might have your spies among the Squires, Lady tr’Andalar and I are well acquainted. I know that she was very impressed last week with your sparring session with her. That you still have skill with all your weapons and the endurance to see a skirmish to its end was most appreciated.” A mock glare from the older man, and t’Kalsham adds with a grin, “Having sparred with the Lady in question on several occasions, I do know how difficult it is to get her to yield.”
The Lord Commander chuckles. “Get out of here, Doutranai. Go spar with Saewe before she leaves, I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.”
A bow with a wink. “As My Lord commands.”
The younger man leaves as the older one returns to his chair behind the desk, still chuckling.