A Paladin's War

© Antidarius 2025

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A PALADIN'S WAR

CHAPTER 17

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The Blade in the Valley

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Maloth surveyed Cathgard from atop the high wall that ran the entire length of these northern cities, hard up against the coastline. They called it the Dawnwall, a grandiose name that had not saved it from ruin. Vasuda had seen to that. The Titan had punched through the tons of heavy stone as if were straw, sending the Heralds running like dogs.

Ironically, dawn itself was breaking over the city under assault by Maloth's forces, smoke-haze heavy in air filled with screams and shouts and the clashing of steel on steel. Cathgard was the central city of the five. A lesser force would struggle to fortify here as the Heralds retaliated from the east and west, but Maloth would have little difficulty.

Beside him stood Rava, as tall as himself at seven feet, slender and proud, even now. Her pale form was cloaked in a light mist that shifted and swirled around her, sometimes opaque, sometimes not. She was an exquisite beauty with that long white hair, slim curves and those all-white eyes that seemed to see things others could not. They likely could. The mist did not hide the purple-black magic-wrought bands that encircled her wrists, ankles and throat. She deliberately did not look at those bands.

Kreya stood on Rava's other side, carefully watching the Titan, though Maloth was increasingly convinced her vigilance was unnecessary. Rava had not disobeyed a single command since being bound to him, and he had tested her most thoroughly. Unlike his

ahk'sheth

, however, she hated him to her core, unable to disguise the loathing in her eyes when she looked at him, which only further supported his assessment; if she had been able, she would have destroyed him a hundred times by now.

"Clear this air," he commanded without looking at her as he placed his hands on the battlement, leaning forward. "I wish to better see the city."

Rava said nothing, and made no noticeable movement, but Maloth felt something shift in her as a stiff wind rose, blowing east to west across the city. The wind would have served to stoke the fires burning below, but clouds quickly developed overhead, much faster than was natural. A light rain began to fall, stopping just short of the wall, dousing the fires. He would have let the whole city burn, but his men would need garrisons and supplies.

After a few minutes, the smoke was all but gone, revealing more detail below. The streets closest to the wall were filled with his soldiers, hulking

Gor'dur

Orcs and midnight-black

Mor'elda

, alongside roughly armoured Human barbarians, black-cloaked Wardens of the Dead with their Risen servants, and towering

Amun'noroth

. The fighting here had only recently stopped, the Heralds giving ground to the invaders and retreating further back into the city.

Captive Heralds and citizens of Cathgard were kneeling in clusters in the streets, closely guarded. More were being dragged from buildings in every direction, kicking, screaming, or weeping, to join the others on their knees.

Directly below, his forces were clearing the dead from the streets to make way for more soldiers to pass through. Maloth glanced behind him, at the dozen greatships anchored offshore. Only three had lent their troops to this initial assault. The other nine were being emptied now, the men being ferried ashore on dozens of longboats, their rows of oars making them look like water spiders this high up.

The stone walkway of the battlement just beside Maloth shifted and cracked, then bulged upward like a geyser of rock, quickly taking the shape of a tall, muscular man with deep brown skin and two long, curved horns that curled out from his forehead, then back over his bald scalp. Eyes like orbs of granite regarded Maloth, then turned to look over the city below.

Why the Titans insisted on taking worldly forms was beyond Maloth, but Vasuda was no different, even down to the prodigious genitals hanging between his legs.

"Is it done?" Maloth asked, watching the Titan from the corner of his eye. Unlike Rava, Vasuda was not under his control, not directly. Maloth was still waiting for his moment to remedy that issue.

"It is," Vasuda answered in a voice like a mountain crumbling.

"Good," Maloth said. "Very good." Vasuda's tunnel would surface in two places that would be most inconvenient for the Heralds. "I have additional tasks."

Vasuda grunted. "I require rest,

Mor'ion

. Your tasks will have to wait." He leaned forward a little, looking past Maloth to eye Rava up and down. "Although I could be convinced otherwise."

Rava's head snapped around, the sneer plain on her beautiful face. "You are as arrogant as you are foolish,

Stonelord

." She invested the name with scorn, and thunder rumbled ominously over the city, punctuating her words.

She opened her mouth to say more, but Maloth raised a hand, stopping her short. Vasuda chuckled darkly, amused. "Enough. She is mine, Vasuda, not yours. Find another plaything. I can provide you whomever else you desire."

Vasuda laughed. "I do not require your

generosity

,

Mor'ion

. I can take what I wish, when I wish it."

Maloth felt Rava tense in anger, and a bolt of lightning lanced from the now dark clouds not a hundred yards away, striking a group of men working below. Maloth's men. Bodies flew into the air in every direction, most of them smoking.

Rage flared in him, hot and sharp. "Stand down!" he bellowed at Rava, making Kreya start. The small, pale Warden took a wary step back. She knew how frightening his fury could be. Rava immediately relaxed and lowered her chin to her chest, but the veil of fog shrouding her body turned as dark as the clouds over the city.

"It appears," Maloth continued in a quieter voice, "that your training is not yet complete. I see I have been too lenient on you, Titan." Vasuda watched with interest as Maloth spoke. "You will spend the rest of today on your hands and knees, in the manner of a dog." Rava quivered visibly but automatically got down on all fours as soon as the words left his mouth. "And should you displease me again today, I will let Vasuda do as he wishes with you. Publicly."

Her pale fingers gripped the stone beneath her hands as if trying to crush it, and Maloth felt something surge against the bonds that gave him control of her, but they held strong. A single tear - the first he'd seen from her - fell from her face, splashing silently to the ground. Good. She was breaking. These Titans were far too proud, far too accustomed to existing uncontested by none but each other. Maloth would see to the end of that soon enough.

"Begin the Rising," Maloth said to Kreya. She nodded and barked an order to a nearby Warden, who raised his hands to the sky. Purple light flared, streaking from his fingers up towards the clouds. Down below, black-cloaked Wardens gathered in the streets around the clusters of prisoners. Forming orderly ranks, the

Mor'tirith

began selecting captives and dragging them away, either doing it themselves or having their Risen do it for them. Screams filled the air as it began, yet even as people were taken for turning, fresh captives were being delivered.

Maloth's lips curved as he idly fingered the long hilt of the black-bladed sword at his waist. Everything he had worked for since waking was now coming to fruition.

*

"You want us to do what?" Elaina blurted as she followed Jesserae into her personal quarters. Aran, Elaina and Amina entered after them, taking in the lavish room, replete with silk hangings in red and gold, fine carpets to match, artworks and tapestries of a style Aran had never seen before, and an enormous bed against the centre of the opposite wall. Several armchairs and lounges completed the furnishings, draped with more silk or satin or fine linens, and cushions and pillows to match.

Aran blinked as he looked around. This was a room fit for pleasures, if he had ever seen one. Indeed, as the group entered, a burly brown Orc and a woman as dark and almost as large - likely a half-Giantess - rose from where they'd been lying on the bed, their expressions brightening at seeing their mistress. Both were naked.

Jesserae reached the foot of the bed and turned to face the

arohim

, smiling. She'd donned her filmy gown for the short journey up the two flights of stairs from the baths, but the Orc and

per'Norothi

quickly rounded the bed and carefully divested her of the gown. The

arohim

had been provided robes of a similar fabric after bathing, Jesserae insisting that she see to their clothes being washed.

"Thank you, my darlings," the buxom

andrakin

cooed, giving them each a pat on the cheek in turn. They both beamed, and the Orc's excitement at her touch became apparent as the heavy appendage between his thighs began to thicken and rise. "I require privacy for now, but return later, and I will reward your diligence."

Bowing, the attendants left wordlessly, pulling the finely carved door shut behind them. "I believe I was clear with my words," Jesserae said to Elaina. "One performance, from all of you together, in the parlour."

"Performance?" Aran asked, already knowing what she meant.

Her pretty face almost gleamed in anticipation. "Yes. The day after tomorrow. This will give me time to put word around the city. It will be the finest event in the Lady's Fancy's history!"

Amina opened her mouth, but the

andrakin

went to her and placed a delicate finger over her lips. "I respect your desire for anonymity, my love, so you will of course be masked."

Aran shared glances with his friends. Smythe looked uncomfortable, Elaina uncertain, Amina reluctant. Aran had seen the avarice in Jesserae's eyes earlier, so this proposition was not an enormous surprise. "And this performance details what, exactly?" he asked, bringing Jesserae's attention to himself.

Her eyes widened excitedly. "Just think about it," she began with enthusiasm, "the four of you, so perfectly beautiful, making love in the centre of my pavilion, surrounded by an adoring audience, wanting you, yearning for you,

aching

to be involved!" She came to Aran, and he had to steady himself against the intensity of the sexual aura that washed over him. "And some of them will join you," she added as she leaned in close, pressing her soft breasts against his chest. "Those that pay the required fee, of course."

Aran chuckled despite his concerns. "So,the legends are true, after all. You cannot separate a dragon from gold."

She drew back a little, meeting his gaze. "Oh, this is about more than gold, pet. This is about the future."

Aran frowned, wondering what she meant. "So why not hold the event free of charge?" The suggestion was met with a peal of delighted laughter, and she touched his cheek perhaps a little condescendingly.

"Oh, you are a precious one,

Anarion

. Men like you are few and far between."

That was the first time she had called him that. He opened his mouth to ask how she knew, but her response was already forthcoming. "Oh, it took me a little time to figure it out, darling, but it is the only explanation for your smell," she leaned in and put her nose to his neck, inhaling deeply, "and your strength." Something in her tone said she wasn't talking about muscles. "And this." She put a finger on a scar on his right side, parallel to his navel, an upturned crescent with a vertical line through the centre. "Individually, these three things are curiosities, mysteries perhaps. But together..." she circled the scar idly with a fingertip.

"You know this symbol?" he asked, looking down at it. She was still so close he had to lean back a little to create space between their bodies. He also noticed her male parts had disappeared.

"I do," she breathed, bringing her face close to his. He could feel her warm breath on his lips. He knew now why Smythe was nervous about Jesserae; he wasn't strong enough to withstand her. Even Aran was having trouble focusing. "It is the blade in the valley."

"What does that mean?" Elaina said as she came up beside them, her emerald eyes on the gold-scaled finger still tracing the scar.

"Salvation," Jesserae replied in a whisper. Her reptilian gaze seemed to stare into Aran's soul. "Or destruction. Which is it,

Anarion?

"

A silence settled over the room. Aran gently grasped her finger and moved her hand away. "That depends on who is being saved and who destroyed," he replied, releasing her finger. She smiled briefly, understanding.

"Very good." Suddenly turning from him, she went to the bed and stood by it, watching him expectantly. When Aran didn't move, she seemed a tad irritated. "Come now, we do not have all day." She stretched, reaching long arms above her head and arching her back, making her monumental breasts look even more impressive. "You are the only one here I have not had, and I wish to experience you."

A sudden wave of arousal washed over him, and the others reacted in kind. Elaina exhaled softly, Smythe grunted, and Amina inhaled just a touch more quickly than she normally would have.

"Very well," Aran said after a moment, giving Elaina a kiss before going to the taller woman. "I suppose it was inevitable." He sensed the others coming together as he reached Jesserae.

"Amuse yourselves," the

andrakin

said to them as she sat on the bed, beckoning Aran to step in between her spread thighs. "And if you require additional partners, you have only to ask." Her fingers deftly undid the sash at his waist so she could open his robe, and a moment later his cock was in her mouth. He groaned deeply as his full length slid all the way into her throat, her muscles massaging him delightfully.

Taking her silky red head in his hands, he seized the initiative and began to thrust slowly. Just a touch of his

vala

set a simmering burn in her body, making her moan with approval around his cock. Elsewhere in the bedroom, the women had lain Smythe down on a long lounge, where Elaina was mounting his hips, Amina his face. They faced each other as they began to ride him casually, a sensuous dance in perfect rhythm, as if practiced a thousand times.

Jesserae looked up at Aran, her fine nose almost touching the smooth skin above his cock. There was a glint of challenge in those brilliant green orbs, and excitement. Slowly, she withdrew, pulling her full lips along his wet length inch by inch until he came free of her delicious grip with a soft smacking sound. "Show me what you are," she breathed, leaning back on her hands and letting him take in her body.

Aran let himself enjoy the moment. She was as beautiful a creature as he had ever seen, her long, luscious form made for pleasure. Assessing her desires, her needs, he gathered some

vala

and pushed it into his loins, adding twice again his natural size. His cock now stood a little over a foot from his body, his balls hanging beneath like two ripe plums.

Jesserae's eyes widened greedily. "Oh, you didn't have to do that for me, lover," she purred, widening her spread thighs in invitation. The gold scales on her smooth mound glittered in the lamplight.

Aran desired the

andrakin

badly. She was lust personified. A glance in Elaina's direction showed her watching hungrily, her eyes moving between his cock and Jesserae waiting on the bed. She wanted to see him fuck Jesserae almost as much as he wanted to do the job himself.

"You wished to see what I can do," Aran said as he stepped toward her. "Very well."

*

Sometime later - Aran wasn't sure how long - he and Jesserae lay sprawled on their backs on the huge bed, sweaty, tired, and satisfied. His head was resting on her soft belly, and she stroked his hair idly with one hand as she recovered, her body still suffering the occasional tremor.

"That was... remarkable," she said with a sigh, Aran's head gently rising and falling as she took a deep breath, then exhaled contentedly. "If only I could keep you here, young man. The coin we would make..."

Aran looked toward her head but couldn't see much other than the undersides of her tits. Even laying on her back, the huge mounds flattened little. "Perhaps I can visit sometimes," he suggested. "Though I doubt Aros would approve of me using my abilities for profit."

Jesserae scoffed. "As if your ancestors did not take donations at their Temples."

"Donations only," Amina said firmly as she came to the foot of the bed. She too was sweaty, with flushed cheeks and tousled hair. Aran had never seen her look more appealing. Behind her, Elaina and Smythe were tangled up on the floor, both smiling happily. It had been an intense afternoon of lovemaking.

Jesserae sighed and sat up, pushing Aran's head into her lap. In this position, her tits fell onto his face. He chuckled and moved aside, somewhat reluctantly. "If I could choose a way to die..."

Jesserae winked at him before addressing Amina. "It is a matter of perspective, Priestess. The Order of Aros did not 'sell' their services, though oftentimes it was compensated handsomely. You call them 'donations,' I call them payments. It is no different to what I offer here."

Amina's golden head swung. "It is different. We offered our services whether or not money was given. How many of your guests downstairs are enjoying the Lady's Fancy free of charge?"

Jesserae grinned widely. "Only a very select few."

Aran sat up and looked between the two women. "I think that settles it," he said, getting out of the bed and stretching. Both of them looked at him as if he had no business saying anything at all. He was about to offer a cheeky remark to them both, but the door burst open to admit a wide-eyed Lenaila. Aran frowned; she looked shaken.

"Lenaila? What is it?" Jesserae asked at once, smoothly getting out of bed.

"I would speak with you in private, Mistress," the Elf said hurriedly, holding her filmy robe closed around herself as if cold. There was no evidence of her previous sultry disposition now.

Smythe and Elaina quickly rose from the floor, looking concerned. Jesserae looked at all the

arohim

briefly before replying to Lenaila. "We are in trusted company. Speak."

Lenaila blinked. She had not expected Jesserae to say that. "I just received word from Cathgard. The Dawnwall has been breached. They are being invaded."

*

In deepening twilight, Aran, Smythe, Elaina and Amina hurried through the streets of Beringarde as fast as they dared. Jesserae had moved quickly once she heard the news, finding the

arohim

clean clothes and supplies for their journey back to the army. Her idea of having them perform in her parlour had evaporated, replaced by much more pressing matters.

"Will she do as she says?" Elaina asked nobody in particular as they deftly wove through the hundreds of people meandering through this particular avenue. Night was apparently as busy as day in Beringarde, with people everywhere seeking food or drink or entertainment.

"I think so," Aran replied. "She is cunning, devious even, but as far as we are concerned, I do not think she'll betray us. Her alternatives are far worse."

"I agree," Amina added, pulling her cloak around her when it slipped open. Jesserae had provided them with the most modest garments she had available, but modest was not an oft-used word in this city. Smythe and Aran had been given the tightest imaginable breeches, and shirts with widely scooped necklines to show off their chests, while the women wore dresses with skirts that ended well above the knee and bodices with necklines that threatened to expose them completely if they breathed too deeply. Thankfully, the cloaks helped, even if they were garishly embroidered. There hadn't been time to look for more appropriate travelling clothes.