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.