Sixth Tale

Chapter 2

2

She was looking at filth . The entire spectacle was a desecration of the Versebook and everything it stood for, and yet, Sister Junia could not look away, her eyes were fixated on the unnatural scene unfolding before her. It repulsed her! This was wrong in every way!

Reynauld and another man , a Highwayman by the look of him, were... by the Light, she pressed her left hand to her mouth to quiet her gasp of horror. She had followed the Crusader after he had left the church, staying to the shadows, out of sight. She had just wanted to see him more... to watch him more... to gaze upon his battle-hardened body just a bit longer...

Sinning , her inner voice had chastised. Lusting. Wanting .

She had followed him to the stables and had watched with rapturous attention through a crack in the wall as he had stripped himself of his holy armour, his weapons and helm. Her eyes had glazed over with fascination as she saw him without the impediment of his arms for the very first time. Junia had managed to not fan herself, but just barely... The Light had blessed him considerably, he was unbelievably attractive.

Wide shoulders, built like a tabernacle almost, thick, veiny arms exactly as she'd imagined. About middle aged, she guessed, early thirties. He had the strength to toss her around without effort, much like that bailed hay. His hair was a dark brown, cropped close to his head like others in the army. There was an ugly scar that ran down half of his face, over a white eye. He was half blind, she realized. She could not see his real eye colour from where she was, there was not enough light.

Reynauld worked up a good sweat caring for the mangy animals. She'd found herself unable to look away as his muscles bulged with his movements. Her temperature rose, and droplets of water dripped down her covered skin. She found her right hand moving down her habit again. It was a good thing she was on the secluded side of the barn.

And then that thief ruined everything .

She was staring, her mouth dropped open in shock. The thief had embraced the Crusader not unlike a lover, which had caught her off guard. And then he had forcefully shoved Reynauld into the corner of the stall. The warrior was a head taller and wider... there was no reason for him to...

It happened fast, and she was about to cast Illumination on the thief when she realized that he'd undone Reynauld's leggings and was kneeling... by the Light!

Her hand had done a good job of keeping her quiet. She was disgusted! And yet, even as she felt her very soul recoil in revolt, her eyes took in the Crusader's blushing face. He was panting, and making noises she would have never associated with him. Her right hand descended her habit of its own volition. This was the most loathsome behaviour...

She drank in the sight, biting at her index as she pushed on her crotch. Reynauld was hiding his blushing face in his hand and panting heavily. She could not hear what was being said until the Crusader keened his apologies. She exhaled sharply as she shuddered violently. Junia hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath until she released it.

His voice was higher pitched than she had ever heard it. The thief made obscene , slurping sounds and his head bobbed. She couldn't see what he was doing, but she knew . She was mesmerized by his movements, hypnotized against her will. Her mouth salivated watching them. She wanted to be the one on her knees in front of him. She'd worship him too... kneel in front of the altar that was Reynauld...

She moaned quietly against her index as Reynauld arched into the Highwayman, his large gloved hand not holding his face resting on the thief's head. His hips were pumping forward, and Junia scrambled to touch herself beneath her habit, needing more than the usual stimulation.

His mouth opened, and she gasped silently as he uncovered his red face and grabbed the thief's head with both hands. To her it looked like he was forcing his phallus down the smaller man's throat, choking him. He gasped lewdly, his voice not muffled at all. Lightning danced across her nerves and she zeroed in on Reynauld's moans of pleasure. A spike of envy stabbed her in the gut. She wanted to be the one drawing those noises from the Crusader... not the thief who defiled his piety.

The Highwayman groaned and she heard more wet, forbidden sounds that left little to the imagination before he pulled away. So... nefarious... and blasphemous. She was disgusted, she told herself, not envious at all, as the thief jumped to his feet and he and Reynauld kissed. Her heart thudded in her chest, deafening her, the kiss was not chaste, but of open-mouthed abandonment. Large hands cradled the smaller man's head, holding him still for Reynauld to ravage.

Her fingers found her pearl and she found herself staring at Reynauld's flaccid penis as the men pulled apart. It glistened, beckoning her it seemed. She licked her lips and felt carnal pleasure envelop her suddenly. Her eyes closed and she bit on her finger hard , lost to the sensations.

Sister Junia took a deep breath and forced herself to relax. Reynauld was gathering his equipment and strapping everything back into place. She watched him leave and waited a long time before she left the barn, not wanting to appear suspicious.

The sun had long set. Her eyes focused on the skeleton of the Old Manor in the distance. That she could see it in the dark spoke volumes of the malevolence of the place. The Undead crawled all over the area, and monsters that were not meant to be real, manifested themselves in horrible ways. This place was cursed...

She swallowed and made for the church. Her conscience was weighing her down. She was a sinner, she knew that, but so was Reynauld. His sin was far greater than hers... she had a duty to the Light to report him.

He hadn't reported her... a small voice tried to make itself heard. Yet ... Another voice added, louder than the first. How long before he does?

The Old Manor rose up like emancipated stony fingers. Taunting her with her knowledge. Reynauld was a favourite of the Heir... he adventured often for the red-haired woman. If she turned him over to the Bishop there wouldn't be much willing to enter the ruins. Reynauld was a powerful ally against the undead.

And a sinner...