Night of Lust

The closer they rode to the convent of Saint Sulwia, the more Caderyn's dread rose. One way or another, he would find answers there about the conspiracy against his family. A member of that holy order, or someone connected to them, had tried to kill his mother in Fellhaven and had arranged for the ambush against Caderyn in Ravenmark.

And they would pay for it.

His dark thoughts became obvious to his companions. When they stopped to camp, Gwion would try to distract him with bouts of swordsmanship practice, while Nolmvar had tried to take him hunting for game to clear his mind. Tessandra's wondrous songs had also failed to raise his spirits.

Thankfully, there were other means of distraction and of assuaging his dread, and Tessandra's pretty lips did more than sing for him that night. Shortly after her performance and a quick meal, they'd retired to her tent in search of another diversion. Pelagia, of course, had soon joined them.

The strong knight had forced Tessandra to her knees, her fingers tightly gripping the blonde's hair, guiding her up and down his cock. As she controlled Tessandra's movements, the knight leaned forward to suckle at Caderyn's neck, growling and cooing a little, the sounds growing louder than Tessandra's muffled moans.

Not quite content with just letting Pelagia lavish attention upon him, he gripped the back of the redhead's neck and pulled her up for a hungry kiss. After a soft bite to Pelagia's lower lip, he grabbed her shoulder and gave her a little shove down towards the ground.

"Join her," he murmured, his eyes fluttering as Tessandra quickened her pace. "Tend to her. Make her whimper around my cock."

"You're not a duke yet, my lord," Pelagia shot back. "It's not quite your place to command me like that."

And yet nonetheless she sank to her knees behind Tessandra. Eager, skilled fingers reached for the bard's trousers and belt, sliding them down her slender hips. The blonde continued her ministrations, not allowing Pelagia's touch to distract her from the fervent worship of Caderyn's cock.

The redhead looked up, her brown eyes alight with mischief. After giving Caderyn a wink, she took a gentle hold of Tessandra's neck and pulled her from Caderyn's shaft, drawing forth a yelp of surprise from the bard and a groan of protest from Caderyn. With a growling laugh, Pelagia grabbed Tessandra's shoulders and tugged her down onto the pile of blankets. The redhead's tongue flitted against Tessandra's, eagerly teasing the mouth that had so wondrously serviced Caderyn only a few moments before.

Irritated as he was by the teasing, Caderyn could not deny that it was a beautiful view. As his lovers' limbs tangled around one another, yanking at clothing and exposing their bodies to him, Caderyn moved to kneel beside them. His hands reached out to gently brush over their necks and cheeks as they kissed.

He murmured with delight as Tessandra's fingers slipped between Pelagia's thighs; the redhead soon returned the favor. Within moments, his two lovers were groaning and sighing against one another's lips. The blonde's slender legs writhed against Pelagia's toned form, her blonde hair shimmering as she trembled.

"Let us not neglect our lord entirely, Pelagia," cooed Tessandra in between quick and needy kisses.

She reached up, taking hold of his shaft and stroking it, the gentle pace matching that of the fingers which still quested between Pelagia's legs. A moment later, Caderyn's soft sighs turned to a trembling moan as Pelagia leaned up to lick beneath the tip of his manhood.

Even as the two women pleasured each other before him, they found a way to tend to his needs. Their rhythm faltered occasionally as a spike of pleasure jolted through them, but he found such interruptions to be a delightful reminder of their growing bliss. His hands ran through Pelagia's shorter red locks and Tessandra's silken blonde tresses. Caderyn's hips rocked, gently seeking greater depth within Pelagia's mouth while Tessandra tended to his lower shaft.

"Shall we make a wager?" Tessandra murmured, her breath hot and needy against him. "Whoever comes first has to wake up to make breakfast for the camp."

"No need for a wager," Caderyn muttered, his hips trembling with greater intensity, his muscles tightening as his balls throbbed. "I'll...I'll volunteer."

"You just know you won't last and are surrendering early," Tessandra said, before drifting down to lash her tongue against his balls, then all the way up the underside of his shaft until her lips met Pelagia's.

Both women moaned as their tongues clashed, brushing against each other's lips and the throbbing tip of his cock. Their moans crested higher with the first taste of those little milky droplets, then Tessandra took over, bobbing her head up and down while Pelagia suckled on her neck.

And through it all, their fingers saw to each other's needs: rubbing, circling, caressing, thrusting.

When the women switched again, with Pelagia taking over and slurping against his shaft, Caderyn finally lost control. His hands tightened against the hair of his lovers, holding on for dear life as the faint pulses turned to an agonizing wave. The muscles of his body rippled and he let out a long, thrumming groan.

Pelagia cried out in triumph as he came, as if she'd just won a great victory at a tournament. Her firm suckles faltered as Tessandra's fingers thrust up into her cunt, forcing the redhead's mouth to fall away. Doing so ensured that the next spray of his seed splashed across her freckled face. Tessandra giggled and leaned in to lick up the mess, before moaning as she devoured the last of his offering.

"Keep going," Pelagia murmured.

The bard obeyed, her green eyes wide and needy while the redhead redoubled her efforts between Tessandra's legs. The throbs of his cock turned almost painful, reaching a threshold of agonizing bliss that sent his mind reeling. Making it all the more wondrous were Tessandra's muffled moans that thrummed through his cock, helping to draw out a few more droplets of his seed.

Moments later she came, the crescendo of her cries rippling against his shaft. Tessandra's lips fell away so she could gasp for breath, then she leaned back, one hand grasping at Caderyn's legs for support.

"And how shall we finish off our brave knight?" Caderyn asked, grinning as Tessandra's trembling fingers fell away from Pelagia's sex.

Before either of them could answer, Caderyn lunged for Pelagia, grabbing her hips and forcing her onto her back. She grunted but did not resist, then hissed with delight as his lips skimmed over her taut stomach. Still panting and writhing through the aftershocks of her climax, Tessandra nonetheless managed to squirm over to trap Pelagia's left nipple between her lips.

As the bard suckled on the redhead's breast, Caderyn's tongue lapped between her legs. Pelagia's sighs and gasps filled the tent as her two lovers lavished worship upon her. Strong legs rose to drape over his shoulders, while her fingers ran through Tessandra's hair. His licks grew firmer, longer, more insistent, his eyes fluttering at the taste of her dew and at the beautiful way she succumbed to his touch and Tessandra's.

Thanks to Tessandra's earlier efforts, Caderyn barely had to work at all to force the redhead to a shuddering climax. Her lean legs tightened against his cheeks and her powerful hips bounced off the blankets. One hand clawed at his scalp while the other gripped the bard's shimmering blonde locks. Having faced that strength of hers in battle, it was quite the delight to feel her strength in an entirely different context.

And gods, it was such a triumph to see her rendered so weak and helpless, her lean and powerful strength reduced to soft little twitches and shivers. No doubt it was just as delightful for Pelagia to see his own strength disappear whenever he surrendered to the power of her body.

Her cries softened and quieted. The tight grip on his scalp weakened, and she turned to give Tessandra a few lazy and faltering kisses, licking up the few remaining droplets of his seed that had adorned the bard's chin.

Upon lifting his lips from between her legs, he panted for breath and wiped up the mess.

"Gods," Caderyn said with a groan as he relaxed between the two women. "If only it could always be like this."

"What do you mean? Making a big mess and taking up all the blankets?" Tessandra asked, giving him a playful nudge with her toes.

"Traveling, sharing my nights with two beautiful women. No wars, no quests, no duties..."

His words trailed off and he wriggled over a bit to grant Tessandra a greater share of the blankets.

Pelagia snorted and wiped a bit of sweat from her brow.

"I would have had little interest in you if you were just a vagabond, Caderyn. Your good looks would have only gotten you so far. It was your skill, your duty, your sense of purpose...these were the things that drew me into your arms."

"Not me," Tessandra said with a soft giggle. "I'd have slept with him the first time based on looks alone. But the rest..."

Her fingers brushed over his scarred cheek, then his chin.

"I must concur with Pelagia: I'd have not fallen so hard for a wandering vagabond."

"Allow a man to have his silly fantasies for a few moments," he grumbled. "I'm not about to abandon this quest. I just...wish I had more time to enjoy occasions like this. Fewer distractions. Fewer daggers lurking in the dark."

And he knew that when the conspirators were brought to justice and the crisis had been resolved, he'd need to marry so his family consolidate their power. By the time he returned, Caderyn suspected his parents would have already picked out another bride for him. Provided he didn't ruin the betrothal with some new debauched scandal, he could very well be married by the end of the year.

By that time, of course, Solveig would have given birth to his child. Caderyn clenched his jaw, refusing to allow his mind to wander to thoughts of the witch and the ritual he'd undertaken.

Sensing his unease, both women reached out, their gentle hands caressing his cheeks and neck.

"I know things will get...complex," Tessandra murmured. "But this need not be the end of our fun. Most noblemen have mistresses or playthings on the side, after all. And my travels will certainly take me to Fellhaven and Ravenmark."

Caderyn raised an eyebrow.

"You would be content to share me with my future wife?" he asked.

"'Content' is not the right word. But life is full of compromises. You'll have to sacrifice some of what you enjoy for the sake of your family, after all. And..." She shrugged. "As long as you don't have a nosy or jealous wife who'd toss me into a dungeon, I see no reason why we can't have our fun."

"Indeed," said Pelagia. "I'll still want to travel for tournaments, or wherever Duchess Evelyn needs to send the knights of Utresk. Or I could become a knight-errant...sworn to protect this beautiful bard from the dangers of the road. But such travels would not preclude me from seeking joy in your arms, Caderyn."

Caderyn chuckled, amused and a bit envious. Though Pelagia did have her duties as a knight, she could certainly strike out on her own without fear of causing a political crisis. Such a path would be forever denied to him.

As he sighed, Solveig's soft words flitted into his mind.

"One path of many."

And yet that was a path he could never truly dream of. For all of his failings, he would never abandon his duties and run off to be a wandering knight or vagabond. Even if he did try to flee, others would still want to use him for their own political ends. Some, such as vengeful foes in Jadewall, might even try to hunt him down. Wandering in such a fashion would only put his lovers in danger, just as his pilgrimage had put them in danger on that mountain path in Ravenmark.

Tessandra sighed and kissed his shoulder.

"I'm sorry that it failed."

"Hmm?" Caderyn asked, his mind still drifting.

"Our attempt to distract you. I know that we'll be reaching the convent soon but I'd hoped we could lighten the burden a bit."

"Believe me, you did," Caderyn said, kissing Tessandra on the cheek before leaning over to nuzzle Pelagia's neck. "But some burdens are..."

He sighed, taking small solace in the heat of Pelagia's body.

"We'll find answers there, Caderyn," Pelagia said firmly. "Or at least find the next step on the path towards the truth."

That 'truth' could be far more dangerous than anything they'd encountered on the journey thus far. While he believed Thandor was behind the conspiracy, what if the truth was far more complicated? What if his parents' vassals were behind the plot? Or what if Duke Leopold of Tsannor was somehow involved? That was a ridiculous notion, but the Empire was gripped by so much chaos that Caderyn couldn't be sure.

Darker possibilities swirled in his mind. Perhaps even the tribes of Kovgaard had somehow arranged for the attacks. After all, a northern warlord had tried to assassinate his mother back during the war. What if the jarls and witches of the north had schemed to slay Sarya once again? What if King Ulrik himself was orchestrating the entire plot, trying to destabilize the Empire to prepare for another invasion?

Learning the truth would not be the end of his journey. That truth would instead put him on a darker, bloodier path with no end in sight.

**

At midday the convent of Saint Sulwia came into view. The dome of white stone stood on a small hill overlooking a valley riddled with little lakes and ponds. Around the dome was a wall of dull red stone, inlaid with streaks of what looked like gold.

His gaze, however, did not focus on the mysterious convent. Instead, Caderyn glared at a small forest in the distance, which clung to the banks of a shimmering lake. The branches of the trees were black as night, with leaves of violet and white.

Andros, the mercenary who had led the attack on the pilgrims in Ravenmark, had bragged to his hirelings about making a longbow from the fine black wood of a sacred tree. Caderyn glanced over at Nolmvar, who had claimed that ominous bow as a prize.

The grim weapon was strapped to the northlander's saddle; it was a perfect echo of the dark branches in the distance.

It was yet another confirmation that the conspirators had some connection to this convent. Even if the nuns themselves were not involved, one of the killers had clearly prowled these lands one way or another.

"So what's the plan, milord?" Gwion asked, admiring a heron as it flew down to the nearest lake.

"I will approach and ask to undertake the usual rites of sanctification, the same as every other shrine we've stopped at. I'll use that time to...just observe and see if anything is amiss or if anyone is suspicious."

Nolmvar cracked his knuckles.

"Best way to kill a deer is to scare it out into the open," the northlander said.

"We aren't here to kill anyone," Pelagia said with a low growl. "We are just here to gather evidence."

"Just an expression," Nolmvar said. "What I mean is that you can hint of your suspicions, which should scare off any of the nuns who are in on it. If any of them go scampering out of the convent, then we can hunt them down."

The northlander raised a hand to forestall Pelagia's next rebuke.

"Not to kill them. But if you drive the killers out into the open, away from the safety of the convent, then we can get answers."

"That relies on the assumption that the entire convent is not involved," said Tessandra.

"If the entire convent

is

involved, then he's riding to his death," said Gwion. "Those nuns will rush him with knives or poison his food."

"All the more reason for us to all go there with you," Pelagia said.

"No. A large armed party will only arouse their suspicions unnecessarily..." He flinched. "I cannot risk any more deaths."

Delwin's fate still haunted him. The buzzing of flies echoed in his mind, along with the shrieks of eager carrion birds. The stench of his old mentor's corpse still clung to his nostrils as well.

Those memories served as yet another reminder of the importance of his quest, and the need to end Duke Thandor's cruel machinations for good.

After staring at the forest of dark trees and watching swans flit about on the water, he nodded, then dismounted and handed the reins to Pelagia.

"I'll go with Nolmvar's plan. I'll ride forth, ask to make my penance, and drop a hint about what I'm after. Hopefully that startles one of the nuns, then we can get some answers."

His only other option, it seemed, was just to storm the convent and threaten the lives of the nuns. Desperate as he was for the truth, Caderyn would not go that far.

Not yet, at any rate.

As he marched up the cobblestone road, he brushed his fingers over the amulet of dragon-fangs that Solveig had given him. While she hadn't told him that it had possessed any sort of power, Caderyn did take a strange sort of comfort from those fangs. He allowed himself to imagine that he had a dragon at his beck and call, a great beast with which to force the convent into cooperation.

A small smile came to his face as he imagined using such a beast to lay waste to Jadewall as well.

Those silly, boyish fantasies died as he approached the gates of the convent. As he neared the shrine, he realized that the flickers of gold on the walls were in fact yellow vines, which had been warped and guided to take the shape of skulls.

A chill went down his spine as he imagined the vines writhing to mimic the shape of his own skull as well.

A soft, raspy voice came from beyond the door.

"State your name, supplicant."

"I am Sir Caderyn, son of Duke Lucan of Ravenmark and Duchess Sarya of Fellhaven. I come with a humble request for absolution and-"

"We asked for your name, not your parentage and purpose."

Caderyn cleared his throat.

"I apologize, your holiness."

"We also did not ask for your apologies. Wait."

Several minutes passed. He glanced back to his companions in the distance, who had fanned out beside a small lake to make camp. If this was indeed an ambush of some kind, at least they were far enough away that they could escape in good order.

"Death is the final but most misunderstood gift of the gods," said the soft, raspy voice. "Tell us of your first encounter with it."

Caderyn almost laughed at the absurdity of the question. His first encounter with death? Did they mean the first loved one who'd died? The first man he'd killed? The first time his parents had explained the concept to him?

Once more he looked back to his companions, then to the door.

"When I was a boy, I had a horse I named Slowstride. He was a slow, stupid thing, but loyal: a good horse for a boy to learn to ride. He was already old by the time I was learning to ride him and he eventually grew sick. I watched as my father gave him mercy. Clean. Quick. But I wept for what felt like days."

"And what lesson did you take from that gift?"

Even after all those years, the pangs of sorrow drifted up as he recalled how broken and lost he'd felt after Slowstride's death.

He glanced back at the horses he'd left behind at the camp in the distance. Though he'd ridden those animals for weeks...he hadn't remembered their names. As he thought more on the matter, he realized he had barely ever used any horse's name since he'd lost Slowstride.

"I never gave another horse a name after that. I've ridden and lost other horses since then, but no other loss stung as deeply. The lack of names served as a shield against death, I suppose. At least for animals."

The door creaked open, exposing a grassy pathway which ended in another wooden door, etched with more golden skull-shaped sigils.

He stepped inside and waited for another minute before the voice spoke again.