Lancelot Part 8

Reinforcing the Belief and the Unbelief.

Both Lancelot and Bran watched him ride off, and then they took to their own. They did not mentioned of their own experiences but soon it was Lancelot who broke the silence.

"Bran, am I getting too confident in myself now? I have won all my battles so far. But it be my downfall, I may not have any foes to faced me. They may shy from me, as I have seen in the last season." Lancelot lament on his recent lack of jousts.

Bran did not answer him as his mind was on his own. He remembered running blind in the tunnels with each tunnel leading to more possibility of reaching Lancelot. I been searching for hours and yet I could not find the correct tunnel which may lead to him. I sat down in exhaustion and breathe in deeply, as I scour the darkened walls for an answer. I placed my palm on the ground, pressed hard on it. I am not only sweating in exertion but also of fear that I may had failed my sire and friend. My fingers dragged into the ground and dragged out handful of those soil.

"Its a sad thing, isn't it?" The voice spoke to him but he can't see the face as his vision was blocked by a cloth material. He tried to remove the bindings but his limbs are secured by something and yet he felt no restraint.

"Let me go. My sire would hunt you if you don't." I shouted out many times, but I got was more intimidation into my personal thoughts. The person knows of my past and more than even I could remembered. The voice reminded me of my pursuit of security; my need to always having someone with me in my moment of needs. Not like when I was growing up, with my mother whoring her body for security and food but I knew she did it for her lust. She cares not who she sleep with as long as she felt the lust in her. She used to run to me when she is not satiated and slept holding me using me as the buffer for her need feels.

I cried many a times alone and sometimes, she seen me with it. She told me, that I am blessed to be born a man, as I may not had to endure what she had to. But was she wrong, when I was used like her by the vile officer who needs are more than her. She did not protect me like my Sire. She knew and yet she partake as a voyeur to those acts. She may had soothe me with the poultice but never have I said this before, she also released my builtin lust then.

I fucking enjoyed the act that was done on me by the officer. 

Only she knew, and only she was the one I told. But now, another knew.

But Lancelot must never know. He may think I am imperfect to his squire if he ever knew. I used to run from him when the need arise, when the times he thought I was bedding hoping, but in actual fact, I was bended by others for their needs. Yes, I was indulging at my vile action.

That was my other self, running from the only man I love, and affected by his strength and courage. I may be at his side most times, fight with his battles, defend his honor like with the brigands, but no one must make him know of it. He won't be able to accept me.

He may not stand by me if he ever knew. He must never know.

"No! How can you know?" Bran remembered crying out. "Only myself knew those thoughts. I kept them to myself."

"That is why you keep on running alone in the dark. You avoid your true self which was unleased when you were young. Are you ready to face your true self, Bran? Are you as brave as your Sire? Or are you a coward who hides behind the brave knight? You enjoyed those battles; to see him win over the opponents. You feel their pain as that was inflicted on you. You love it and that is why you could not leave him."

"No, I love him....." Bran cried out.

"And he loves you, but not in the way you wanted." The voice reminded him and that broke his resistance. Bran cried inside his mask and he cried so long until he had no more tears to flow. Then he heard the sound of his love. He opened his eyes, and saw the tunnel exit.

"No, sire. Your foes are not good enough for you." Bran assured his companion. "You have not met your best yet."

"Bran, you are like love. Always telling me the best has yet to come, when I have bested many for you." Lancelot laughed at his companion. He then smiled at Bran and rode ahead of his companion. He did not hear the words mentioned by that companion.

"You would never to know. I love you, Lancelot."

"You are crafty, sire." Bran admired the new armor that his Sire had commissioned to some craftsman. The armor mirrored his own given by Smithy but this one is darkened to malt black that absorb the light into it. "You would not be recognised by many in this suit. How deceiving..."

"Yes, Lancelot the White shall not exist for a while. In his stead would be a new knight not heard of before; the new entrant into this world of knights, the Black Knight."

"Why the new identity? Is it not that Black an opposite of your current image? Are you telling me that you are surfacing the darker side of you?"

"Yes, you can say that. I am surfacing my other self." Lancelot smiled at Bran. "Are you ready, my squire?"

"I think I am, but allowed me some time to build up my alternate image." Bran ran off in search of his own identity. That was also the time Bran laughed at his experience in the tunnels. "I need that new mask to hide my true self."

"The Black Knight, Sir; that is my name." The Black Knight offered his hand to pull up the defeated knight who just lost a round of jousting with him. The defeated knight accepted his loss and then he remarked to the other.

"You have not battle the best of us yet. He is Lancelot and he would redeem our honor for us."

"Lancelot? A name I heard many times, but never seen the shadow of that knight. He must be quivering inside his armor knowing that I am here. Such sad event for your land when your champion is only good for the inexperienced battles."

"Insult not Sir Lancelot, Black Knight." The other knight defended the honor of Lancelot. "Lancelot is without doubt the champion among us, although he has not been seen for over a season. But he would be back on his own land and defeat you."

"Brave words, Sir," The Black Knight watched the defeated knight limped away. The Black Knight walked back to his companion and squire, who look smart in his new dark tunic. The Black Knight threw his lance on the ground and took off his gloves.

"I ail at battling my own reputation. Why can't there be one that can offered me more than a fight here?" The Black Knight removed his head cover to shake the mane of hair that he had grew since last season.

"Patience, my Sire. The alter ego of yours have produced you challengers unlike your hidden one. We have gained much in gold and also in name as Black Knight."

"Aye, we have." Lancelot smiled as the gifts of their battles have kept them indoor at the fire places and also hearty meals. As in his new role, he demands not only the pleasure of a good battle but payments for his effort. It has become a game of winning that he knew he can control the odds.

That evening, they retired to a nearby tavern for their rest. Upon a hearty meal, Lancelot called himself to retire early for his rest. He was in his room when he removed his tunic and stood over the pail of water. He splashed on the water to his aching body and felt the relief of the cold water on it. His battles are won but his body had not been won yet on the aches. He has more pains in the body that he can actually touch to feel himself. But there is one pain he cannot find relief of; that of his manhood. Since Bernice, he had been reluctant to bed another.

Is it his virtue; h asked many times when moments like this arise. He smiled as he remembers the words of his Guardian, Lady Vivian. There is no lust more rewarding than that of when its comes with love. There paired together would explode in unison and bring on unexplainable pleasure. Lady Vivian would not tell him more when he queried her more. Till this day, he had kept his lust in place for the woman he would love, and only to her, would he released all his lust.

Lancelot laughed at himself as he removed his wet leggings. He was in the act of pulling it off when the door was opened, causing him to trip on his feet. He fell face down on the flooring and howled out in pain. His head may not hurt as much as his lower groin who took on the thrust onto a harden surface. Lancelot reached for his painful part and tried to ease the throbbing pain while his eyes are still closed. He felt a set of hands have held him up and laid him on the bedding. The same person who helped him assisted in removing his leggings and pulled his body over the cover.

The set of hands then reached for his body to soothe down his pains. He felt nice on the soothing hands which was not soft but firm in the touch. The body moved over his aches and then paused at his thigh. It reached to remove his hand over his groin and laid the hand to the side. Immediately, Lancelot felt the same soothing hands on his manhood which had shriveled on the last thrust, but now responding to a more soothing touch.

"Ah, thank you...." Lancelot mumbled out, as he reached for his groin again but he finds his hand now held down by a heavier weight. He opened his eyes to see who was holding him down, and he was surprised.

"Bran?" Lancelot on seeing his squire leaning over him and soothing his groin' immediately sat up.

"Sire, I came in and saw you lying down in pain. I rubbed your pains to ease you." Bran raised himself upright. Then he looked sheepishly to the wet leggings. "I would take that away and get you new pair."

Bran took leave of the room while Lancelot covered himself with the bed cover. He thought hard and find himself responding to the event that unfold just now. He felt alarmed that he would feel such feelings as its not himself to do so. He been with Bran for so long; they been since childhood, and shared many a times a bath together, and even appeared naked with each other. But never had he felt any arousal for his companion, as there was none to feel then or thought of. But just now, he could had sworn he liked the feeling to be held by Bran.

Lancelot jumped out of the bedding and walked to the nearest wall. He knocked his head against the wall to beat out the thoughts of it. Its not him, he keep on repeating to himself.

I would prove it myself. I am a real man.

He grabbed the tunic and went over to opened the door. He called on the owner and told him what was wanted. He placed some coins on the sweaty hand of the owner before he closed the door again. He did not need to wait long when he knock came. He opened it to admit in a young woman who was about his age. She was dressed in simple frock over and she walked in with confidence. She did not look like Bernice but she is a still a woman. He looked at her from her head to her toes and she is more rounded in some areas.

The woman did not hesitate as she pulled at her frock over the head to reveal her naked body to him. She then walked over to the bedding to lay on top. Lancelot pulled at his tunic and walked up to her. He looked down once again to her and tries to imagine the image of Bernice. He did not had to as the woman raised her right leg to touch on his manhood. She moved her toes along the length of his manhood and then she pulled back her leg to spread our hers' for him to see. He stared at it, as she reached down with her fingers to part the lips for him. She dipped in her fingers and drew them out moist on contact.

Lancelot looked up to her face who smiled at him. That was his turnoff then, but he has a task to performed. A task that he had commanded himself. He took up his nearby tunic to placed over the woman' eyes and then he climbed on top of her. He placed his manhood inside her and he humped like when sitting on his saddle. She moaned and called up every name she can think of behind the tunic cloth.

Lancelot could not find himself to be satiated so he got off her to rolled aside. She moan on the release of the weight on her body and glanced over. She can still see he is upright and wet with her desires that came pouring out. He is unlike others who just spent their own and ignore her needs. She felt too many the tremors that triggered over her body and now she felt so relaxed but coins have been given to clear the man's lust. She remembered the act that she was asked to do on the man from afar.

So the woman sat up and leaned over the manhood; enveloping it in her mouth. She suckle at it like she would on a ladle coated with honey. His reaction was expected as his hands went down to her head initially trying to pry her away but later moving her head to the rhythm that he feels most comfortable. His fingers rummaged into her hair and pulled away at the roots.

Then he came with a flood of it into her throat and she had to keep on swallowing or she would had suffocated.

She got up from her task, and saw the man had lain back asleep. She stood up and then retrieved her frock, but before she was to leave, she felt the urge to kissed him. Then she recalled that he had placed the tunic over her eyes just now, she sighed.

"Sleep well, sire. She would too if she was here." The woman slipped out of the room. Unknown to both of them, there was one other who was peeking in from the window sill. It was Bran who stood there as he viewed the whole incident. He turned away in pain as he felt that his sire does not desire him just as he desired the man. He walked back to his own room and saw the young lad sitting by the bedding. Bran closed the door and walked up to the lad. He place the coins into the lad's hand, and raised his legging.

"He shall be accorded the same." Bran reached for the lad's head.

Lancelot looked up from the bedding when the woman had left. He turned over in disgust at his action. He could not helped it as the image of Bernice keep on appearing on his mind. He damned if he could ever forget her. He was sure that he had seen Bran looking in at the window. But he could be sure now, now that the person is not there anymore.

Both Lancelot and Bran took to their journey at dawn and both men have not spoken yet. It was near noon, when Bran spoke up.

"We have some food and wine in the saddle pouch" Bran reached for it. "We can rest at that stream."

"Bran, are you still thinking about last night?" Lancelot asked of his companion when they had cleared their hunger.

"Yes, Sire...... I meant no. I am okay with whatever happened then." Bran explained himself. "I am your squire and its my responsibility to take care of you. I meant no other intentions."

"Bran, I called for a woman last night.... And I..." Bran stopped Lancelot from speaking.

"Sire, you did no wrong. Its only natural a man takes a woman. Or ..." Bran broke off in his words. He was staring at the stream as it flows smoothly. He asked himself what would happened if the stream flows both ways.

"Or what, Bran?" Lancelot probed in his words. He wants to hear what Bran wanted to speak.

"Nothing, my Sire. I was just muttering to myself." Bran explained himself. "Where do we ventured from here?"

"As where the winds may blow; I don't know. Why do you asked? You did never did before." Lancelot queried his companion but Bran did not answer him back.

Lancelot Part 7

Blood kins .

It was soon after his defeat of Edward on the joust, when Lancelot came upon a small town. It was named as Bentley, and he decided to rest there. While Bran took the horses to the stables, Lancelot took himself to the Tavern. Its a small one that houses a long bar and three long tables with the benches for the occupants. There are three rooms available for lodging at the rear alongside with the owner's and next to it was the cooking area with bath area.

There were three person sitting at the long bench having their drinks, and they looked more like brigands than villagers. They are dressed in assorted of leather paddings that acts as protection while their belts hold the swords and daggers. One fo the three had a hawkish look in his eyes and he was the one keenly observing Lancelot who just walked.

Lancelot almost missed the another occupant with an average built that sits at the window sill by himself dressed in a simple tunic and tight leggings, but his belt carries a knight sword; one that is long and broad in the length. He is looking out the window to the street outside and holding a dagger with an apple on the end. He is not eating it but swinging downwards it to and fro like a pendulum.

Lancelot walked to the long bar and approached the owner. He asked for lodging and food, while placing some coins on the table.

"Aye, sire. We have one room left." Lancelot took note of that as he could only afford one anyway and more than that, Bran was never one to sleep in his bedding, if he can find a wench to bed elsewhere.

"May I have some food served on the table? May it for two as my companion would be coming in soon." Lancelot moved to the unoccupied table and seat himself. The food came just as Bran stepped into the tavern. Bran did not bother to clean up as he sat down on the table to help himself.

"Oh, what a stench!" The man with the hawkish eye spoke out loud. "Did we just invite in a hog to sit at the table?"

Bran took offense to the insult and stood up as he reached for his sword. The three so named brigands also stood up and drew their swords. Lancelot stood up and reached out to Bran to hold his action.

"See that boys, they are holding hands. I knew they were one of a kind when they only took one room." The man with the hawkish eyes laughed. "If I took only one room, then my companion would be someone with slit in the front and back."

"You insulting me, you loud oaf." Bran shouted out in anger.

"Oaf? This man has insulted me." The hawkish eye man retort back. "That calls for a duel in my books."

The owner stepped forth with a wooden club in his hand trying to stop a fight here.

"Boys, please take your fight outside. Here I am ...." The owner keeled over holding his left thigh where the hawkish eye had cut at him.

"Stay out of my fight unless you can fight as good." The hawkish man caution the owner. It was then the apple can flying across the table and hit the man. The man looked towards the one sitting at the window sill.

"You threw that?" The man asked and the one at the window sill had moved to stand there with a dagger now. The one with the dagger move forward to the table where the brigands are standing at.

"I could had thrown the dagger but I want you to know that I prefer to give you options." The man with the dagger told the brigand. "The options to retreat or die by the sword. Your choice."

"The heck with it. Attacked them..." The hawkish man shouted out to his two other companions. They all drew their swords and took to their target. The hawkish man selected the man with the dagger with his sword raise above his head. The man with the dagger charged in low and thrust the dagger into the hawkish man at the groin. Then he pull out the dagger and thrust it into the right elbow. The hawkish man fell writhing to the flooring holding his groin injury.

Lancelot had his share of the brigand that came at him. He is smallish frame guy with a face cover with a thick beard. Lancelot kicked at the bench that hit the brigand at the knees and Lancelot followed through with a run along the bench to kicked at the brigand in the face. The brigand fell down unconscious.

Bran did not wait for his fight; he was too worked up and charged at the brigand. His version of the brigand was a tall man with slim limbs now holding a sword. Bran swing his shorter sword at the brigand which the other blocked and punched at Bran with his left fist. Bran took the blow and swing his sword in again this time lower and then at the last moment he move the swing upwards. The brigand did not see the change in the swing as the shorter sword cut into his left armpit and almost severe the arm socket.

"We are done." The man who was at the sill walked over with his dagger dripping blood. The man stopped at the one dropped by Lancelot. He placed his right boot at the unconscious man's neck and pressed down hard. Lancelot can hear the bone crunching below the boot.

"Why did you kill him? He was no threat." Lancelot protested to the man with the dagger.

"He is to me. He threaten you and I don't like that." The man told him. "Not when he is my cousin."

"Cousin?" Lancelot spoke out in surprise.

"Yes, I am. The name is Lionel." The man introduced himself. "I am your King Bors' son. Your Guardian told me where to look for you."

After the death of King Bors, the estate of the King dissolved as the loyal subject fled the castle. Queen Evarice took her son Bors named after the father and fled the castle. She was afraid of the reprisal of King Claudas who had just killed her King. She find difficulty moving as she was in her advance state of carrying the other baby of Bors. She made it to a woodcutter's abandoned hut before she gave birth to the baby boy.

She cried on delivering him as it was the difficult time for them; on the run from the Frank's and her King dead. She picked herself up and cleaned up the blood. The baby start to cry for his feed and she fear the sounds would bring the Frank's. She ran to him and placed him at her teats. He suckled at milk that seeped from his mother and soon he was bonded to her.

She stayed there for a while to recover and also to considered her options. She could flee with the two children or she could.... consider killing them. The later would ease her burden and she is still young to wed another, even she may lead life as a commoner. She looked at the children and see their smile as she approached them. Why don't they feared her as she was to take their life, but they keep on smiling.

"Queen Evarice, there is another way." She turned to see a lady in white standing there at the doorway.

"My name is Lady Nimue. I am from the Lake and I am offering to take your children to safety." Lady Nimue stepped past her and stood between her and the children.

"I would take care of your children. I would nurture them and one day they would reclaimed their father's land." Lady Nimue promised her. "I would care of them like mine."

Queen Evarice looked at her children. She knows that with this lady they might have a chance of living. She looked at the young one in the cradle.

"Name him Lionel. His father wanted to name him that." She then fled the hut and was never seen again. Lady Nimue took the children with her and placed them at the palace in the lake, but she placed them in a secluded section far from her sister' knowledge and more so she did not allowed them to mix with Lancelot then.

Just as she taught Lancelot, she also teach the two growing boys and released them on their adulthood to be knights. Just as she looked to them, she did on Lancelot. Both the boys grew up and roam the land as knights.

It was by coincidence that she saw Lionel on the same trail as Lancelot. She contemplated her decision and then made it for them. Its time for the cousins to meet, and it may be also a learning experience for them. She seen Lionel character as he undergo his adventures. He was never the same as his elder brother Bors who had the mother to guide him for the first years. Bors learned something more than Lionel; he learned real motherly love and that shaped up his character.

But not Lionel who was without a real mother but one that appears on occasions to check on their progress. Lionel grew up yearning for love but he could not find it except companionship by Bors. Like most growing boys, or more specially unmanaged boys, they were always tempting the risks and they have the scars to prove it but Lionel was mostly more reserved in his ways. He never showed them to Bors when he hides in the dark corners to torture the small preys he captured. He feels the pleasure of ending their life with his hands. Soon as an knight, in some battles, he did just the things without displaying to Bors. He was very careful in his ways.

Lady Nimue wanted him to meet Lancelot. There was a task that awaits them.

"So we are cousins." Lancelot sat at the table looking at the other knight sitting across him. He was very intrigue to know his roots; something that the Guardians never told him.

"Yes, we are, as Lady Nimue told me. She felt it times that they meet. We were staying at the Lake too, but the palace is larger than what we expected. We were at one end while you may be at the end."

Lancelot remember that even though he may had stayed there for years, but he never got to explored the whole palace or its ground at all. It just large to cover by himself.

"But why now?" Lancelot asked Lionel. "What is this task she wants us to performed?"

The three of them are standing in front of the entrance to a mine. Both Lancelot are dressed in their armor and carrying the shield with their sword. Bran is also holding his shorter sword and he had acquired a narrow oblong shield for himself.

"According to Lady Nimue, there are demons that dwell in there. She wants us to remove them."

Bran handed over to the other two a set of torch that he lighted up. The three of them walked into the mine. The entrance leads them to a long dark tunnel that seemed to lean downwards. After a short walk, they reached a junction which opened up to three more tunnels.

"We would each take one." Lancelot spoke up and took the one on the far right. Lionel went for the middle one, and Bran left with the last tunnel but he took the one Lancelot took. He figured out that the squire responsibility was with his sire. Bran raced to followed Lancelot but could not find him at the front. He finds more of himself alone in the tunnel. Lancelot find himself in a cavern and he find himself facing an image of himself in the armor, even down to the sword he carries.

"This is great. I have battle many but never myself." Lancelot muttered to himself. He walked up towards the other image of his. He raised his sword and the other image of himself took a different stance. Lancelot smiled as the image does not replicate his moves as he expected. He charged at it and it blocked him with ease as if expecting him to do it. Lancelot pulled back on his attack and the image took a low thrust at him.

"That was close." Lancelot muttered out. "Never thought I would that to myself."

The image did not stop there and lunged at him with more swings and thrust until Lancelot had to retreat to the tunnel. There he noticed the image did not followed him in, but stood at the cavern.

"So you have a weak point." Lancelot spoke up to the image. "Well, I don't have any fear of tunnels."

Lancelot spoke up and then lunged at the image with this shield. He pushed the image back and kicked at the legs of the image, causing it to fall. He went for the fallen foe, but the image if himself kicked out on Lancelot' chest. Lancelot fell back at the tunnel. Lancelot was not to give up as he stood up.

"If you are truly me, then you would understand this." Lancelot threw aside his sword and shield. "Let us fight with our body and see who is the better of the two."

Somehow the image of him, also did the same and took up the gloved fist to faced Lancelot. Lancelot removed his head cover so that he can have a better vision of the foe, but the opposite did not do so. It kept its head cover.

Lancelot did not hesitate to move forth and then circle the image. He is looking for an opening which can be used for him to land a deadly blow. Its an unusual fight for him but he had bouts of it during training with Bran. The image of him lunged at Lancelot with a swinging left towards the head but that was blocked by Lancelot who replied with a low blow to the bottom chest. His gloved fist hit onto the armor plate there did not caused much damage but it threw the opponent slightly off his balance. Lancelot moved his left arm in with the twist of his body forward, which made contact with the opponent's right shoulder. That blow jolt the opponent back on his feet, and Lancelot followed through with a hand chop on the right side of the neck just below the head cover. He find his hand slipping in as if there was nothing there, and then the head cover came off falling to the ground.

There was no head in the armor.

Lancelot was stunned and the opponent took the opportunity to punch him in the chest. Lancelot fell back on his back but he was still to comprehend what he just saw.

"Are you real?" Lancelot asked as he sees the opponent stoop down to pick the head cover. "What manner of creature are you?"

The opponent placed the head cover on its shoulder and then turned to walk away to the opposite of the cavern. It disappeared in through another tunnel there. It was also then when Bran turned up from the tunnel.

"Sire, are you alright?" Bran asked of his master. "I was caught in a maze and keep on running to find you. I can hear fighting but I cannot find the source of it until just now. For once I felt worried about myself and later you. I had to find you to assure myself. We are friends....no, we are more than that....."

Lancelot stopped Bran from speaking. He motioned Bran to assist him up. Bran helped Lancelot up, and picked up the weapons that belonged to Lancelot. Lancelot told Bran to picked up the other weapons that was laid there by his opponent. Together they walked out of the cavern back to the entrance of the mine.

Lionel was not there and may still be in the tunnels.

Lionel walked the tunnel that was on the right and he came onto a small forest; where the trees are larger than the ones he had climb in the woods. The undergrowths here are as tall as him with the grass reaching to his waist yet when Lionel looked up he finds no sunlight that feeds them but an artificial glow that emits from the roof above. Its an eerie feel here, and Lionel drew on his sword to slash at the undergrowth.

Suddenly a dark figure sprang out and fleeted past him through his legs. Lionel stepped aside to see what was that; and saw that it was a hare that twice the normal size; but what chases it was more frightening to Lionel. Never had he seen such a serpent that is as large as hound and yet it trails the body length of thrice of man in height. The serpent jaws caught hold of the hare and bit into the tender flesh. The hare struggled in the grasp of the deadly bite, but it was a lost effort and the serpent raised its neck to dropped the hare into its open jaw.

Lionel watch with an unusual feeling on the scene; he was stunned by the attack and yet he finds it fascinating on the terrifying action that took place. His hand holding his sword was wet with sweat yet he does not take it up to protect the innocent hare. Then Lionel noticed the serpent coiled up its body and rested in front of Lionel.

It speaks to him.

"Sir Lionel, I am honored to see you here." The Serpents speaks yet its jaws does not move. Its speaking to Lionel by thoughts.

"We are alike in many ways; orphaned at birth, penned up in a cage like area, made to learn on how to survive or die without surviving. When I was smaller, I was hunted and mocked by them, but now I hunt them for my appetite."

Lionel looked at the Serpent and recalled his own life; he always felt like in a prison, with daily rituals to performed , and then to re-do the same the next day. He seeks love from Lady Nimue but she was scant in presenting it. There were times his other trainers bullied him and even his own brother Bors. It was at the age of five years, when Lionel stumbled on a hare that had part of its front limb injured. He caught hold it and he reached for the injured limb to see the hare grim in pain. Instead of soothing the hare, Lionel actually pulled at it more to see the reaction from the hare. He finds it fascinating that he can actually hurt it, and continued doing it.

That was his first and not his last. When he later started on his quest, he donned the armor of black to fight the others. Most times he would wound his opponents in many places before he do the final blow. Or he would looked down to an injured one and delivered the fatal blow. Bors did asked him why is so merciless in his approach.

"Bors, they are dying and I just sent them there a quicker way. I did no wrong in that."

Now the Serpent have shown him a mirror of his aggression.

"Do you fear it, Lionel?" The Serpent asked of him but before he could answer the Serpent, a larger prey that resemble a giant Lion yet this one is of thick hide of dark green, and an over protruding jaw on the large head. The new predator bit down into the Serpent' head; crushing the skull piece and jaws with its own mightier jaws. It reached with its front limbs that is small but able to grasp the neck line of the Serpent while the large predator bigger rear limbs stepped on the middle portion of the Serpent body.

The predator chomped hard on the crushed head of the Serpent and then took another bite at the fleshy neck line to cut the Serpent into two parts. It was then the predator saw Lionel and it threw away at the half eaten Serpent. It looked at Lionel like it was assessing a more palatable meal than that Serpent.

"Ain't you going to tell me something?" Lionel asked giant headed predator.

The giant predator shook its head and growled at Lionel in which Lionel raised his shield to protect himself should the predator attacked him. The predator did not do so, but move to the side with its sight still looking at Lionel. For once, Lionel felt the fear as the giant looms over him. He asked himself if that is how the others felt when confronted by him when he tortured them. He felt some moving thoughts of his action then, but that was soon to disappear as the giant predator charged at him. Lionel used his shield to block the attack causing him to fall back and his sword dropped from his hand. He used his shield to block the next charge and barely held it against the large jaw.

"Aargh!" Lionel cried out when he felt his left leg stepped on by the giant predator. The weight of the predator have fractured his shin and he grimace in pain. Thankfully, the predator moved its limb when it charged against at Lionel, but this Lionel had rolled to the side. Lionel tried to get up but his left leg would not stand properly. Lionel dragged himself to a nearby tree trunk and leaned against it.

The giant predator still stands there looking at Lionel but then it looked back at the dead Serpent. It turns it attention back to the dead Serpent and dragged it with its jaws into the tall trees. Lionel took a deep breath of relief at the departing giant and then he reached down to his injured leg. Its very painful, and that section of the armor legging have been split into two halves.

"How do you feel, Sir Lionel now?" There was a hare that crouched there before his eyes. It looked like any hare but this one had an injured limb. "Doe you feel the pain as I have then?"

Lionel shook his head to clear the disbelieving sight before him. A hare talking to him now. There was one that was just being eaten by the Serpent, but this one talks to him. He must be going crazy.

"You are not crazy but you are not thinking right in your head, if I may say." The hare replied. "Here in this cave, many had assumed a demon dwell here, but actually they are wrong. Everyone who comes here, is a demon himself. We just mirrored it to them, and hopefully they would learn."

"Lancelot and you are of one blood breed, but your qualities are different as both of you took on the different traces. Lancelot is his ego, after battling so many foes, he is becoming over eager. He thinks himself too well, but I just showed him what it feels to lose his head. His squire, Bran was soon to be too casual in his life, that I had to showed him how it feels to be lost. But not you, you are special. Lionel, you need to be shown humility and kindness. You think that by hurting others, you could take out your rage. But as you saw just now, your rage hurt others. I hope you see it like Lancelot did on his action."

Lionel looked at the hare and then he threw the shield at the hare. The shield missed the hare which jumped aside and then transformed to become Lady Nimue.

"Lionel, you disappoint me in that action. I thought you may had learned but you have much to learn." lady Nimue told the young knight. "I think the best lessons are taught by those you would look on as leader. I am sending you on a quest with your brother Bors to the courts of King Arthur. Serve him well and be a better knight. Bors would look after you from there."

Lady Nimue disappeared from his sight and he felt also his leg have healed. Lionel got up to retrace his steps back to the mine' entrance.

Lionel soon came out and did not speak a word to the other two on his experience nor they of theirs. Lionel just excused himself on a need to do some quest, but before he left; he made a comment.

"Whatever happened there and remains there. I am not amused at the works here, and the heck I would change for for anyone. I am Lionel and I would be always be me." He then left in a hurry.

Howdy Folks..

Nope, I am not riding into the sunset. I am also not writing a western tale either. Not until I find my saddle and riding boots. Maybe by then, I would do what Dick Francis ( writer of novels on horses and racing. I read his entire collection........trumpet blaring.....lol ).

But midway in writing the 'Short Tales from the Chronicles of the Elves', and also in between watching re-runs of Planet of the Apes, and then Stargate Universe ( blinking mind is all zapped with ideas ), I decided to start on New Pangaea II. Its a continuation from the first one; the last of the Earthlings, Atlanteans, T-Rex and its chomped up victims, and not forgeting the chimps.

Actaully I did about two third of the short tales ( short tales that make one long tale.... ) before I switch over to telling the New Pangaea tale. It would be mind blowing ( mine is still swirling in the hyperspace. ) and its would be re-looked at the concept of survival. Plus its a lot of Rambo and Colonel Braddock ( pardon me, as I also watched the re-run of Rambo and Missing in Action. ) Hey, I am still a humanoid; ever picking on ideas. ( No, I did not watch any BDSM when I wrote Lancelot. I actually read a lot of passages on Lancelot before I embark on the tale. Imagine if I had read BDSM then, wow...Lancelot would be riding on the saddle from page one to the end.....lol.... with a lot of strap-on' ).

Okay, back to reality.

Its a Sunday morning and needless to say I had to get up at 0630hrs ( ghastly time to wake anybody who had only fours of sleep ) but here I am. Oops! Was that supposed to be the opening para? Guess, I need to get back to my sleep.

Cheers, folks. Its time for say 'hiyo, Silver'.

'Loong' Ranger.

P.S. This is too tempting. I was thinking of watching re-runs of Wild Wild West, Gunsmoke and even Rawhide. Can you just imagine a tale of he western genre with a dash of space wanderings and a touch of the Gods..... Like a new version of Firefly ( the TV Series ) or maybe a new version named 2012 Space Odyssey. Add in some spice and we would beat the record for Mile High, to Space High. Yup, we can swap the water bed for the free gravity chamber....lol. Add in the music from Queen; "We would rock the World".

Radical! Yeah !

But for now, let me sleep. If anyone looking for me, knock before coming into the free gravity chamber. Wear a suit please, there would be gooey stuff floating around.

Lancelot Part 6

The formative years

The sunset may had been seen many times by Bran but today he find looking himself looking with keen interest. It has been past four summer seasons since they left the lake, and they are coming to their fifth summer now. The time they have spent on the traveling had been long with many cold nights in the woods, or some clearing by the stream. It was harder in the first season, as no one know of Lancelot nor anyone cared who he was. Soon as they took challenges, the name of Lancelot soon spread among the others although it meant more jousting and fighting at times.

Bran remembered Lancelot first jousting with the lance he won from the other knight. They had trained in the art of jousting back at the lake but it was with a blunt end. This joust was a real one and the lance is sharpened at the end. The knight then was named Bern of Man; a knight of some age and experiences. He did not mock at Lancelot as others have done but coached him on the art of jousting.

Bern advised Lancelot, its not only the knight which can win a joust but also his horse. A well trained horse helped a lot as the horse would keep its track while the knight fights with the lance. More to it, he told Lancelot that the horse he is riding is in adequate for such a task. It was asked to Lancelot to find a charger for his horse compared to the larger destrier that he now ride. It also asked that he changed his spurs to a long necked one so he can managed the horse during the run. A good high back saddle would be good for the leverage during the charge.

Bern also told him on the needed changes to his armor as the one he wore is suited for sword play and not able to take the impact of an advancing lance. Bern suggested to him to find another before taking the challenge. He offered to meet up with Lancelot in the next season at the same place.

Lancelot then scout the land for the suitable horse and armor. It was this event which took him to the castle of Herdford. The duo was passing by the land when they were approached by a detachment of soldiers on horses.

"Sir Lancelot, we are the Guards of Lord Dean of Herdford. His castle is over the hill and he invites you there to rest on your journey." The leader of the detachment announced to the weary duo.

"Do lead the way, sir." Lancelot replied to the guard.

"Sir Lancelot, I am ever delighted to host you on your journey." A tall man with a narrow face with a wisp of whiskers above his lips. "My name is Lord Dean, and this is my castle."

The castle is indeed a work of art as it comprised several structures behind the main wall guarded by six sentries towers. The structures inside consist of the main building which housed the Main Hall and several chambers stacked in the three floor landings. The cooking area is to the rear alongside the servants' quarter. On the right side of the main structure is the double level barracks, and then facing it is the stables and work area for the blacksmith. To the left side of the Main Hall is the double level structure which housed the stables and above it are the riders.

The castle is not a big one but it still houses about a hundred over inhabitants.

Lancelot was led into the Main Hall where a large feast awaits him. He has seen to many of these in the seasons more so when victory carries his name. But in this hall, he was caught up the sight of the crest that was hung on the wall. Its a beautiful crest of a galloping horse garlanded by a ring of fire around it.

"It a beautiful crest of the family." Lord Dean commented on it when he saw Lancelot looking at it. "My family have been horse breeders and trainers for generations."

"Its a beautiful crest and one worthy of you, my Lord." Lancelot declared to him. Lancelot was soon usher into the table and his thoughts was long forgotten when his palate was filled up. He took his fill and shared with his host more tales of his travel. It was long later in the night when Lancelot took his leave to walked to the open side door that leads to a small garden between the Main Hall and the Stables.

Lancelot saw before him a fine structure with about thirty over individual horses that are resting there. He was watching a fine specimen which was a white mare, with a silky coat. It was covered with a velvet red coat from the night air.

"Its a fine one, that mare." A voice spoke out to him. Lancelot looked to his rear and saw a maiden who was standing there. "My name is Bernice. I am the niece of Lord Dean."

"The honor is mine to meet you, my Lady." Lancelot leaned over and took her hand to lay a kiss on the index finger. "My name is ...."

"Sir Lancelot, I know." The maiden explained herself. "Your exploits are well known in these parts."

It was then Lancelot looked at the maiden standing before him. He has seen many in his travels, and many had come onto him but he had never accepted any proposal. But this time, he find himself drawn to this maiden who is not exceptionally pretty but she does look sweet to him. Maybe its the wine, Lancelot said to himself, but he can't helped staring at her. Bernice is about his height with a slightly curled hairs that reached her waist, and she is build rather slim which actually enhanced her tall looks in her silvery maroon gown held tightly by matching girdle that enhanced her bosom. Lancelot was very much fixated on her eyes hidden beneath the heavy lashes and the full lips that emits out seductive thoughts in his mind.

"I am sorry, my Lady. I must had drank one too many tonight. Forgive me for staring at you." Lancelot took a small bow to apologies for his rude stares.

"Its okay, Sir Lancelot." Bernice blushed at the apology. "Its not often I get stared at."

"Please addressed me as Lancelot, my Lady." Lancelot felt rather uncomfortable to be addressed in the formal rank. "And I am then called you, Bernice."

"A very comparable thought of mine, ...... Lancelot." Bernice held out her hand for Lancelot to hold as she walked towards the stable. " I would like to show you the mare."

Lancelot took hold of her extended hand and walked with her to the mare.

"She is a fine one; a cross breed with a thoroughbred and warmblood." Bernice stroked the mane of the mare as she moved around to the front of it. "I was there when she was born, and I asked my uncle to give him to me. Her father was a good jousting horse with a steady ride. He won many jousts in his days, and so was the mother who rode to many battles."

Bernice stroked the mare back and asked Lancelot to feel the silky coat too. Lancelot placed his right hand on the back but Bernice took hold of it and assisted him in sweeping at the mane of the horse. She pulled him to stroke at the upper neck thus he had to move closer to behind her to reach. He find himself standing behind her with his face next to her flowing hair.

"Can you feel the smoothness of the mane?" Bernice asked of him as she leaned ever slightly back towards him. For the first time in his adulthood, Lancelot did not stepped back but stood there touching and smelling at the hair of the young maiden. He reached with his other hand to clasp at Bernice waist as they stood there closely.

Bernice moved the right hand down the mane of the mare to below it neck when the mare nudges it head against her. At the same time, she mold her body ever tighter to Lancelot. She can feel the length of his body against her and she like the feeling of hardness that strokes against her lower back.

"I was there when the stud was courting the mare. It was so adventurous, and the ...scene was so unfolding to me." Bernice recount that day when she spy on the stud mounting the mare. She could not resist herself as she grind her body against him. She felt so much in need to feel the heat of that moment that she moved his left hand from the girdle towards her bosom. She clasped on his so that he can knead the softer flesh as she leaned back on her neck on him. Lancelot have hardly any experience beyond this point, somehow find himself leaning over to kiss at the exposed shoulder, as he trailed his kisses to her shoulder joint.

"Yes.... That's...." But Lancelot pulled away at the last move. He stepped back suddenly causing not only Bernice to jump in alarm but the mare also shudder at the sudden move.

"I am sorry, my Lady." Lancelot apologies to Bernice." I was too forward with my manners."

Lancelot did not wait for an apology as he return back to the Main Hall, leaving Bernice huffing with anger.

Much later, Lancelot choose to retire to his assigned chamber. He close the door and walked to his bedding. It looked so inviting from the cold ground he has been sleeping on lately. He paused in his walk as he thought of Bernice. He felt he should apologize more than just walked away. Its not that he does not like the maidens; Bran is one who did not hesitate in his discretion as he surround himself with them wenches from the taverns or servant quarters. Bran once told him, there is no harm in sharing the love if they are needed by others, but Lancelot felt that his days with the Guardians taught him more on just love. They taught him long lasting love and above all respect for the ladies. He felt that would be the way to treat such relationship and not have it like .... stud. His mind wanders back to Bernice and the scene at the stable.

He looked down at himself and smiled. It was nice to hold her then, but is it the way to act was his question. But now he needs to use the bowl to clear his load. He stripped off his tunic and leggings to looked for the bowl. It was by the bed and he released himself. That done, he took up the cloth next to the rinsing bowl to wipe himself clean. He felt clean from the rough cloth wipe but he find himself with an upright issue.

"Perhaps I could help....."

Lancelot looked towards the bedding and find Bernice raising herself upright from it. She sat up and did not bother to pull the cover over her top naked body. She reached up with her hand and looked for him.

"You need come closer." Bernice motioned to him. Lancelot could not help but stared at the maiden who is now on his bedding. His stare moved from her face toward her perky bosom with round pinkish teats. Its not that he has not seen the bosom of other ladies but this one is so ....inviting. Bernice on seeing that he is not going to move, pulled the bedding covers away and crawled out the bedding. She stood before him and reached with her right hand to his manhood. She grasp it and he shuddered at the contact. She pressed her body against him and leaned over to kissed him. Lancelot find himself responding to her kiss and his hand went around over her waist to pull her closer. His hands then starts to moved in unison to below her waist and cupped at her lower cheeks.

"Oh.... I think its best we used the bedding as its more comfortable." Bernice pulled away and pulled at him towards the bed. Lancelot on top of her and continued kissing her but she soon moved his lips to her neck and then to her bosom. He know not what to do but he did what his mind directs of him just as she had spread her legs to accommodate him inside her.

It was the sun that woke him up and he sat upright in a start. He looked to the other side of the bed and find no one there. He thought he was dreaming, but he find welts on his body where she must raked him in their lovemaking. He took his face into his hands and shook it hard.

"What did I do?" Lancelot muttered to himself. He jumped out of bed and reached for his tunic and leggings. It was then when Bran walks in with his tunic untucked and his hair tousled like a storm had ravaged it.

"Good morning, Sire." Bran spoke to Lancelot. "Did you have a good sleep?"

Bran did not see the punch that sent him sprawling to the floor. Lancelot stepped over the fallen squire to rushed to the Main Hall. He met a servant and questioned him on the whereabouts of Lady Bernice.

"Lady Bernice have just left for her own castle. You may be able to catch her if you hurry." Lancelot did not answer the servant as he rushed to the stable.

"Get me a horse." Lancelot told the stable hand. The horse was led to him, and it was the mare. "That is not mine. Where is my horse?"

"Lady Bernice sent that to the market. She asked that you ride this one instead."

Lancelot gallop on the mare and caught up with the carriage carrying Lady Bernice. Her carriage is escorted by four riders and they are all well armed. He rode up to her carriage and called for it to halt. One of the riders came forth with his sword drawn.

"Name your reason, sir for stopping this carriage."

"I have words to speak to the lady in the carriage." Lancelot protested and pushed his way through. The rider tried to intervene and Lancelot reached for his sword.

"Stop it!" Bernice called from inside the carriage. "Sir Lancelot may approached me."

Lancelot approached the carriage on foot and Lady Bernice stepped out. She motioned to him to walk with her to the nearby shade under a large tree. One of the rider wanted to come forth, but Lady Bernice stopped him.

"Tell me what can I do for you, Sir Lancelot?" Lady Bernice took out the fan from her pouch and fanned herself.

"About last night....." Lancelot tried to bring up the matter, but Lady Bernice hushed him up.

"Last night, I spent the night with my fiancee. I do not recalled of anything else that happened otherwise." Lady waved to the rider who tried to followed them earlier. "There he is; a charming guy with a manor to his name."

"Bernice...." Lancelot tried to speak but she stopped him.

"I may called on your discretion, Sir Lancelot to protect my vanity." Lady Bernice glared at him. "You may keep the mare as my token of appreciation."

With that she walked back to her carriage and be on her way with her fiancee. Sir Lancelot looked to the departing carriage until it left his sight over the horizon. It was then when Bran rode up to him.

"Are you okay, Sire?"

Lancelot nodded, and Bran punched him in the nose. Then Bran rode off back to the castle. Till this day, no one knew of the fight as both lad kept their promise to be discreet.

"Bern, we meet again." Lancelot shout at the other end of the field. Bern of Man reared up his horse on its hind legs.

"So we have although we are short of one season. But we can try our skills now." Bern charged up his horse to raced towards Lancelot. They met at the middle point and Bern got thrown off his horse.

"I yield, Lancelot." Bern told him as he got up from the ground. "How did you improve so fast?'

"Its a knight prerogative to be discreet in something that affects them. Good day, sir and I would be on my way,"