Mordred

The tinkle of a bell brought me back to my senses, shrill and sharp. I’d been here before, not this place, but this moment. It wouldn’t be long before they were upon us, blades bared, teeth set. I ran a finger across my blade, Naughty's, silk-wrapped handle. The gesture was slow and gentle, like teasing her slit. That familiar rasp of hers filled my ear, wet and ready, “Quiet?”

“Not this time,” I rolled my shoulders and my skin prickled in the night air. The rabble that rounded our encampment wouldn’t give me much issue, even with the fact that I was unarmored. It was **** of those two cut-throat whores to try this. I’d been on their heels for a couple of days, and they needed to make a stand, or I’d run them into the ground. Making an attempt at me while I had my eyes shut and ass bare was a solid course of action for these women. If I’d actually bothered to close my eyes it may have succeeded. I’d just grown tired of the chase.

Naughty rattled in her black-stained sheath then peeled herself loose, exposing her well-oiled steel with a languid moan. Her length could have been coated in spit, sweat, or slick, the way it reflected light.

“You little skank,” I laughed as I caught the flash of an erect nipple in the firelight along her blade. My elf, Naughty, was all tempting sights through a maddeningly slim sliver. I asked, “Were you-?”

“Bundled up in a bedroll with you of all people? ♥” A lithe hand’s image tugged at the pebbled bud, “Yes, I was-aching, wet, grinding myself razor-sharp for you...”

I gave her grip a squeeze, “Alright enough, give me some clean work and I’ll return the favor by daybreak.” The elf’s metal flexed in my palm. I knew that would put her in order, and I had no qualms over paying her price.

These woods pressed in, thick, unsuited for riding. The summer heat plastered sweat across my thighs and tits, and the mosquitoes sucked more incessantly than Naughty. They were becoming larger threats than my quarry, and I had come close to calling it quits. There was a small risk to it, letting myself relax by a fire. The urge to doze was there.

Naughty had kept me company, whispering filth and gossip throughout the evening. She had ample dirt on each of my sisters of The Round Table, the complaints their arms and armor shared when our heads were turned. I’d have never thought Meliot and Sadok the type to swap blades, but apparently it was a regular occurrence. Those girls both wielded straight edges, whereas Naughty was delightfully curved.

A thick, straight edge spoke to an elf with a dutiful cock. I had no need for one of those, as the Lady of The Lake had seen fit to hang one between my thighs. Naughty’s steel seemed purpose-forged to rest on my hip. When she deigned to sprout limbs her womanly form sported a supple oiled cunny.

Most of us “New Moons”, knights with male appendages, had our pick of the fortress. The halls ran over with women sworn to never know a man’s touch, yearning from sparring and wrestling drills, and receptive to anyone with a rod and an ample enough chest.

Somehow, I’d been labeled untouchable by our local mountebank, who claimed I’d be the eventual **** of the chapter Matriarch. The gaggle of warriors surrounding me would flirt, but not dare anything more. I spent most evenings hilt-deep in my sword.

“****!” Naughty squealed as she tried to leap from my palm, her curve buried into a neck that glutted like a fountain across my hands. I grimaced, knowing I’d be hard-scrubbing my cuticles to get that bandit’s grime from beneath them.

With a twist I sent the girl thrashing to the ground. She was unwashed and smelled of spoiled wine. Instinct struck and I wheeled to my back. Naughty slid across a chain shirt and I pivoted her tip into the armor. She spun further to fill the gap between the lass’s ribs. An unwetted dagger plopped onto my bedroll and she took in breath with a terrible wheeze, “Please…”

There was nothing I could do for her. Naughty didn’t care. I’d never seen an elf cry for doing its work, and I’d done my best to master that same skill.

These girls had given up on escape, had tried to kill me in my sleep. I wasn’t here out of malice, they’d robbed and murdered others, folks just as defenseless against them as they were against me.

“Come on ****, let’s do it again,” Naughty chided me, I knew instantly what she meant, an encore of a couple nights past. They were both here, I should have just rushed them, taken care of this days ago.

I could indulge her, with a sweep of my foot the dagger clattered off into the dark. The gasping bandit beneath me turned her eyes from it back to me.

This was such a fucking gamble.

I looked the girl in the eyes and listened to breath bubble out of her chest wound. Plum-colored hair stuck to the side of her face. My lips peeled apart, “Last wish?”

“Mm…” her eyes squeezed tight, “Mm’sister…”

“That one.” I gestured with Naughty to the one that had already gone pale.

“No… Burweld, in a cage…”

Fuck me…Burweld?

“Alright, I get her out of the cage, send her on her way… Good wish, most people fuck this up…” I rushed the rites, best to get this bitch on her merry way before she says something impossible, “Squire… she needs, a real life…”

“That’s not… Oh for fucks sake!”

I don’t know who brought Naughty up and back down, but the demanding head with the plum-colored hair rolled loose.

“Burweld, that’s in Lancelot’s…” Naughty started, and I cut her off.

“Yeah, I bloody-well know.” I started at salvaging the scene and soon decided it beneath me. The bedroll was a bloody mess I had no intention of dealing with. I slumped against an oak’s trunk.

I’m not absconding with a prisoner of L’s without paying a price. Maybe if I trade N… Teach her for dragging me into this…

My elf stood before me, skin metallic-gray, hair short and pink, features angular, tits bared, hungry, and said “You promised…”

“That wasn’t clean work," I chided her in return, knowing full well she wouldn't take "No." for an answer.

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