A Paladin's Training Ch. 15

Eames dismissed their nudity as a matter of course; he had conquered the temptations of the flesh long ago - as had Brend and Lora - and whatever powers these children had would affect him not.

The boy glared at Eames. "I demand to know on what grounds you have arrested us!"

Eames had had their information brought to him on the way down here. The boy's name was Tavish, the girl's Ayla, and they were twins, eighteen years old and born into a well-to-do merchant family that lived in Maralon's west district, a place reserved for nobles and the wealthy. Eames had expected to find Order of Aros connections in their family history, but strangely, none had been found.

If these two really possessed the so-called 'Gift,' as the heathen Paladins had once called it, then this was a prime opportunity to conduct some 'tests.' No Herald had ever successfully captured a living Paladin, and Eames planned on being the first to do so.

He answered the boy's question. "You and your sister are under arrest on suspicion of wielding a forbidden power, one which almost destroyed civilisation several hundred years ago."

The boy scoffed. "Ridiculous! You cannot arrest innocent people under hokey religious claims! Release us at once, or I will take this before the Council!"

Eames smiled, though he felt no mirth. "You would find that endeavour fruitless, I fear. It was the Council themselves who gave me the authority to arrest whomever I want."

The boy looked confused. "What? Why? Why us?"

"Because," Eames said simply. "If you are what I think you are, then you must be destroyed, lest you endanger the world once again."

"Destroy us!?" The boy said incredulously, his voice cracking.

The girl - Ayla - starting weeping softly, her face buried in her brother's chest.

"Yes," Eames replied flatly. "But not before I take the time to learn more about your disgusting ability." At that, he turned and left, Brend and Lora trailing him.

***

Maloth strode through the ever-growing camp of Wardens and their Risen dead, ignoring the stares that followed him and his newly created Morgai. Both the male and the female were tall and powerful, with somewhat exaggerated physiques blatantly designed to entice the opposite sex, making them a sight to behold, indeed.

Maloth had chosen not to clothe the Morgai, and they seemed to have no problem being exposed so, with the male walking tall and proud, his heavy phallus knocking against his muscular thighs as he walked, and the female sauntering seductively, swaying her hips and preposterous breasts alike.

He pushed open the flap to Queen Morin's huge tent without announcing himself, and her huge Risen orcs that stood guard out front did nothing to stop him; they knew who he was by now.

Morin, Mistress of the Grave and Queen of the Dead, was naked and on all fours in the centre of her spacious tent. She was facing the entrance and moaning wantonly as a muscular human Risen drilled her from behind, his grey hips colliding with her white ass in a steady rhythm.

Morin had acquired several new minions over the past weeks. Like Maloth, she only chose the best, and as queen, she always had first pick when fresh bodies were acquired.

She looked up and smiled as Maloth entered, but her jaw fell open as the Morgai strode in to stand just behind him. Morin's blue eyes flicked back and forth between the Morgai in shock while the Risen continued to fuck her. Her jaw worked as if she were trying to find words.

"Enough!" Morin finally managed, kicking the Risen away and scrambling to her feet.

She was an attractive woman, tall and slender and still shy of her middle years. Her long, dark hair was somewhat tousled, but she still managed to command an air of dignity despite her nudity, which she did nothing to cover up as she approached, an amazed look on her face.

"My Lord!" She breathed, taking in the Morgai. "What are these creatures? They are truly marvelous!"

"We are Morgai," the male rumbled in a voice too bass to be human. Something of that ghostly, echoing quality remained, though.

Morin - to her credit - stood before the male and looked him up and down, studying him unafraid. "May I touch him, Lord Maloth?"

Maloth nodded and watched as she placed a palm on the male's deep chest and slowly traced the symmetrical black runes that glowed red from time to time.

"I sense Warden magic in him," Morin murmured absently. "But something else has been added."

"Demon magic," Maloth confirmed. "These Morgai are a culmination of your daughter's magic, and my own. The Risen just happened to be the ideal vessel for our combined energies. A few hours ago, these two were Kreya's Risen."

"Fascinating," Morin whispered, not taking her eyes - or her hand - off the male Morgai.

Her hand started to trail down his muscular abdomen, bound for the thick length below, but Maloth interjected. "I would not do that, Morin. They are not the same mindless creatures they once were, and I cannot guarantee your safety if you arouse it's lust."

Indeed, the male's eyes - devoid of pupil or iris, just glowing red caverns - looked down on the Queen of the Dead with a decidedly predatory glare, it's lips slightly curved in a sinister smile.

Morin merely returned the look, offering a smile of her own as her hand slowly lowered. "Sounds enticing to me, my Lord," she whispered as her hand found the male's rapidly hardening cock. "Have you... tested... them yet?"

Maloth knew what she meant by 'tested.' "No, Morin," he replied flatly. "I have not allowed them to fuck yet, each other or anyone else. That time will come, and that time is not now."

"Shame," Morin said, looking down at the now erect and throbbing member in her hand. It was so thick, her fingers could not close around it.

"Why does she get all the attention?" The female piped up, watching Morin stroke the male.

"Silence!" Maloth snapped. "Morin, enough! I need them focused, for I am to put them to work very soon. We have much to discuss."

Finally tearing her eyes away from the Morgai, Morin looked to Maloth, stepping away from the male once she saw the expression on Maloth's face.

"Keep watch outside," Maloth ordered the Morgai. Obediently, they exited the tent, leaving Maloth and Morin alone.

They talked for a long time about the Morgai, and Morin - with her deep knowledge of magic - had several useful insights.

"I am sure you already plan to do this, my Lord," Morin said at one point as they sat on the comfortable furs on the floor of the tent. She had not bothered to dress, giving Maloth the pleasure of eyeing her slim body while they talked. "But they should be thoroughly tested. Not just sexually, but in their mental and physical aptitude also."

"Correct," Maloth said. "I do plan to test them. I also plan to find out how many more can be made, and whether or not Shenla is capable of creating them, as I am."

Morin nodded thoughtfully, her keen mind turning the possibilities over. "My Lord, do you suppose that this was possible because you used Kreya, and the two of you are linked?"

Maloth had considered this, and now was an excellent time to test the theory. "Call in one of your orcs, Morin, and we shall see."

Morin did as he asked, and one of her pale, brutish orc guards pushed into the tent, standing obediently before them, it's nine-foot high head brushing the canvas.

Together, Maloth and Morin rose and stood before the orc, and Maloth asked her to do as Kreya had done and create the necessary glyph for the transformation.

Maloth did exactly as he had done the first two times, touching one hand to Morin's glyph and the other to the Risen orc, but this time, nothing happened.

Morin sighed disappointedly. "I suppose one must be linked to you, my Lord, in order for the change to occur."

Maloth had to agree, and now that this limitation had arisen, he considered another possibility. Initially, he had chosen not to Bind Morin's soul, as she would be more useful to him free, as long as she remained loyal. He had chosen instead to Bind Kreya - whom he suspected was easily as powerful as her mother, though he kept that to himself - to cement his ties to the Wardens, but what he hadn't considered until now was taking control of the Wardens completely.

He was very glad he had not Bound Morin, after all.

Letting his power rise, Maloth fixed his gaze on Morin, whose pale blue eyes locked onto his as if in a trance. She had already tasted the pleasure he could give, and would not resist. "Send the orc out," he commanded softly.

She obeyed, and the orc left, leaving them alone once again.

LIke lightning, Maloth stepped forward and seized Morin's head in his hands before kissing her thoroughly and flooding her body with rampant lust.

She pressed herself against him in response, moaning wantonly into his mouth, her tongue dancing with his.

Satisfied she was malleable enough, Maloth broke the kiss, but kept his hold on her head and again captured her eyes with his. "Tell me, Morin, who is your successor?"

Morin answered in a monotone, as if in a trance. Her arousal was plain; her face was flushed, her breath heavy, her nipples stiff and pointed. "Kreya, my Lord. My daughter is my successor."

"Are there no others that can challenge her?"

"No, my Lord. She is the undisputed daughter-heir to the Throne of the Night."

Maloth smiled, and his grip on her head tightened. "Very good, Morin. You have pleased me, today." At that, he released her, and withdrew his power before exiting the tent.

His Morgai fell in behind him as he walked, plans churning through his head. Now that he knew Kreya would take the crown if something happened to her mother, he no longer needed Morin. All that he needed to do is dispose of her in an appropriate way. He had almost snapped her pretty neck right there in the tent, but had restrained himself; it wouldn't do to be found standing over the corpse of the Queen of the Dead in the middle of an army of Wardens.

Suddenly, he stumbled mid-step, and before he realised, he was down on all fours, his breath coming in gasps. Weakness washed through his limbs, and sharp pains gripped his chest. What was happening?

Without being asked, the Morgai grasped him by each arm and pulled him up, leading him toward his nearby tent. Through his blurred vision, he could see a few black-cloaked Wardens had stopped, some of them asking if he needed help.

Weakened as he was, he was unable to do anything but let the Morgai carry him inside his tent and lay him down on the thick furs inside. Soon after, darkness took him.

***