Mc Allister's Redemption - Cover

Mc Allister's Redemption

Copyright© 2008 by black_coffee

Chapter 24

Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 24 - Sometimes, things get out of control. The limits of Hell aren't fixed. Instead, they seethe and writhe with the mass contained within. As unpredictable as those limits are, sometimes one standing very close to one of the boundaries may find himself suddenly standing outside the limits, and, if he is astute enough to run, may escape. Sometimes, new arrivals in Hell are prepared for opportunity. And sometimes they make friends. This was one of those times.

Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Fiction  

Savonne laughed, when McAllister asked if they would be challenged if they did not appear more as a duke traveling with a retinue should. "I am relatively unknown, it is true, but in most of Denaria, the counts of the March and the dukes who command will ride on a horse, and not in a carriage. Twenty-four is enough of a retinue."

McAllister found himself warming to the man. Nonetheless, it would be a week's ride, if they were not delayed, through the various city-states along the northern shore of the Middle-Sea, until they reached Saint-Raphael, seventy leagues to the east. On a good road, with only minor detours around walled cities, McAllister and Sable might expect to cover the distance in eight hours if stealth and food were not concerns. With the Jade, riding alone, McAllister judged the travel should require three days. With the Duke and his men, trained horsemen all, and the requirement for the men and horses to sleep and be tended, he knew it would be six days.

On the third day from Marcelon they were south of mountains taller even than those McAllister and Sable crossed between Crest and Marcelon. The mountains forced the road close to the sea. In an area with fens to the seaward side and marsh to the mountains-side, McAllister and the Duke's troop were delayed.

The Duke arrayed the party in two groups, rather than ride in one massed body. This was effective in keeping the dust down if nothing else. McAllister warned the Duke that ambush and assault upon McAllister as opportunity arose was a strong possibility. "For some time now, they've been instructed to interdict and harm me, to harass and delay, if not more."

"Whatever," the Duke asked of him levelly, "did you do to anger Hell so?"

"I escaped, and I've survived every attempt upon my person, Your Grace. I'd say its an affront to them, an insult they cannot allow to pass," McAllister answered, lightly.

The Duke laughed from his horse beside McAllister. "That's probably justification enough."

It was reasonable to suspect ambush and forces arrayed upon the approaches to Saint-Raphael. What McAllister didn't know was how strong or how cleverly disguised such ambushes and forces might be. Savonne listened, and arrayed his party into the two groups, four advance riders along the road an hour ahead of the remaining twenty in the van.

One of the Deacons galloped back the two miles to the body of the troop. "McAllister," the one named Héral said breathlessly, "it's a force of forty men, encamped by the road. Garrison duty has softened them, but they say they check for criminals. Every man passing through must show their face to the men on the road. McAllister, they search for you."

"What was their reaction when you rode the other way?" Savonne stepped his horse closer.

"They raised no alarm, and gave no pursuit," Héral responded. "I'd say it isn't uncommon for men to refuse to pass."

"Mother," McAllister said silently, as he sat his horse there on the road between the Mountains and the Sea, "though you may not answer, I will attempt to do a thing." Calling the four deacons to him, McAllister told them, "Watch closely, so you may do this also."

Wide-eyed, the deacons observed as McAllister drew forth the stuff of sorcery again, and as before, drew it through the brooch on his breast. Each of the four gasped as the silvery aether was drawn from the brooch. "You see it filters," McAllister asserted, "else it'd be golden in color. From you, as it was from Donal, I'm certain it'd be silver."

Nodding, each waited in turn while McAllister simply washed the stuff into their bodies, then did the same for himself. "You can feel it?" he asked, and received four astonished affirmative responses.

"It's well," he shared a smile with them. "Stay close by me this time, so I can maintain this stuff, and you'll have time to practice what you may do with it later. For now, we ride together and play haughty churchmen returning to Saint-Raphael after some mission in the hinterlands." The last was said so the Duke and his men would hear, and seeing all understood, the Duke ordered the men to advance.

"What did you do?" Savonne asked McAllister.

McAllister rode for a moment, considering the man beside him, and then answered. "Those allied with Hell have a coloration on the fire within them, which fire few are aware of, and even fewer may see directly. Those searching for me can feel I am different than they are, and they're drawn to me, as a moth to a flame. I've masked myself with a different hue of that fire. Now I've surrounded myself with four true churchmen, the servants of the Mother, who are likewise masked." He paused a moment, and seeing the Duke followed, continued. "Along the way, I've shown them what this internal fire is, and they'll learn to use it and grow."

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