"Yes, well," He stood slowly as the door was opened and a pair of slim, wiry young men of a height between Aerin and Rosa entered. Twin brothers under Aerin's power, the one had a bandage over his left eye where his brow had been cut, the other had an arm in a sling, "I suppose if you meant to kill me you would have just thrown me out into the sunlight. Since you did not, I see no reason to view you as someone seeking my harm." he took the change of clothes the bandaged on offered and stripped to the waist to change; it would not do to bare his manhood in front of a woman he didn't intent to lay with, and so he did not, simply pulling off the bandages wrapped around his person to reveal well-sculpted muscles to match his somewhat feral, predatory allure to most normal women. Aerin and Aeren Lacceta were sometimes described as jaguars that walked on two legs, fittingly so. "Besides, you have no doubt saved many of my men from death in the past. I owe you a measure of my gratitude for that."
He rolled his shoulders after he put on the shirt and coat, looking slightly ridiculous in the deep maroons and royal blues while his midnight-black trousers were shredded and tattered, useful only as tinder now. He gave a small little bow with a flourish of his slim, elegant hands as he said, "Well, miss, I thank you for your hospitality, and I will also hope I need not so enjoy it in the future. And now I will take my leave to inform my kin that, miracle of miracles, there is a noble Beaumont yet gracing this world."
And with that, he left. A third slave, this one a vixen quite familiar to her Lords and Lady, leapt to her feet as they approached the exit, following with the playful, bouncing steps that the eldest Lord Lacceta, Aerin's father Emmanuel, had commanded her to make a habit, thinking his sons might enjoy the resultant spectacle. Lyceus, the elder male, naturally did. Aerin did not really notice, at least while she was dressed; when she was not, he sometimes watched. But he was not the kind to make her jog about uselessly, enjoying only what was offered or that he presumed himself entitled to. On this night, that amounted to taking the good wrist of the man with a broken arm and enjoying a brief, careful snack from the vein at his wrist; no need to drain his servant dry if he could avoid it.
The walk back to Sevenia, where the Lacceta family held most of it's power, was long in part due to distance and in part because Aerin had taken a stop in the trees to finish changing, which the girl had mistaken as a silent order and... well, he was without trousers for a pleasantly long while, and the girl had once again happily announced that she preferred Aerin's flavor to his brother's. When at last Aerin and his trio of followers arrived at the impressive, Gothic-styled mansion that housed the Lacceta and their favored servants, it was to the slow setting of the moon. Aerin did not need to knock or ask permission for entry to his own home, and so he simply strode in. He was, however, quickly thrown onto his back by something flying into him at great speed, raven's-feather locks long enough to cover her rump flying every which-way as Aeren greeted her brother with a special kind of relieved joy found only when the returning party had been presumed dead. He could not even exclaim in surprise, as she was quick to trap his tongue with hers as they fell. She held him like that for a while, time seeming quite irrelevant now as Aerin settled his hands on his sister's slim, rounded hips covered by one of the rich black silk skirts she so loved. The both of them quite liked the color, actually.
When she at last released the kiss, it was because she had noticed the presence of the others. "Leave us." She told them sharply, and once they were beyond hearing Aeren continued showering affections on the brother she'd thought lost, nuzzling his cheeks and pressing herself against him as though to make certain Aerin was really there. After a while, she finally bothered to address him with a choking, breathless exclamation of "Oh, Aerin, I'm so glad you're safe! When you didn't come home, Father and Lyceus assumed the worst and told me to move on, but I knew, I simply knew you wouldn't leave me!" She continued her ministrations while Aerin stroked her long, silken hair and tried to calm her with some gentle shushing, smiling at his twin and lover, saying "Aeren, Aeren, please. Have you so little faith in me as to believe me dead? I simply lost track of time chasing down some cowardly Beaumonts, and was caught out at dawn. I took shelter and started home as soon as I could."
She stopped her anxious affections, raising herself onto her hands to look him in the eye. Now she was a woman Aerin would call beautiful; soft, porcelain skin with a delicate frame that seemed it would break at a touch, though she shared in her brother's resilience. His same crimson eye color, hers sometimes a deep, dark garnet after she fed, her eyes like large, innocent-seeming pools of purest blood. Long, straight hair that fanned out behind her in bed, like rivers of night that contrasted beautifully with her bloodless pallor, and her lips painted a lovely shade of rose by either blood or cosmetics. Her dress was a kind of tempting modesty, the bodice concealing but emphasising her generous bosom, clinging to her slim waist and flaring over her hips, her skirts pooling slightly at her feet and her skin bare above the shoulders. He simply had to look at her and immediately her being his sister simply made her all the more beautiful. Of course, the price of immortality had made her quite infertile as well, so there was no consequence—and thus no wrong—in the twins sharing a bed and frequently spending many days wide awake and loving it. "I have absolute faith in you, Aerin. It is my other brother I distrust."
"And yet you lay back for him as readily as for me."
"No, I do not. If I were approached by both of you at a time, Aerin, I will always fly to your arm."
She let out a giggle, then, nuzzling his cheek again and whispering warmly into his ear with her gentle, lilting soprano voice, which always sounded as though she intended to break into one of her lovely songs that Aerin so loved. Of course, she loved to serenade her twin brother; that was one joy reserved only for Aerin, no matter what the others did—which was not much, as they feared the wrath of her brother if they dared harm her—and she made sure to flaunt it, sitting in his lap and singing for his ears alone, stopping when their elder brother or father drew near enough to hear. But that is a digression. "I suppose," she said softly, "you could start calling me your pet nightingale. Of course, I believe I'm much better at swallowing your manhood than any mere songbird~" She giggled again, pressing her hips against his quite deliberately, grinding against him and allowing herself a hushed, aroused hum. When the other men had thought Aerin dead, Aeren had been quick to barricade herself in their room out of fear and grief, and dove into Aerin's pillow to weep. Her typically hyperactive libido had been festering, ignorant of her sadness, for an abnormally long time, but now that Aerin was back she longed for him to use her like he usually did. She gave his earlobe a playful nip, whispering the single word, "bed", that she needed to for her twin to pick her up and hurry to their chambers.
The room shared by them was quite spacious, practically half a ballroom with high, vaulted celings. Everything in the room was their beloved black, being made of ebony or black steel or obsidian or black thread or leather. One wall was lined with bookshelves filled with vooks and parchments of all shapes, sizes, languages and types. The other was occupied by wardrobes, trunks, and the large ebony double-doors to their bathchambers, which were likewise all black. The twins, Aerin and Aeren, waltzed across the room to the humongous bed which occupied much of the third wall and dominated the room, undressing each other with a graceful ease born from decades of practice of the maneuvers. When the last of thr clothes fell away, Aerin scooped up his sister and tossed her into the bed, leaping after her. They were both quite aroused at this point, but Aeren spread her legs, holding her torso up on her elbows and petting her slit, smiling at her brother and he crawled to her. She knew what came next.
When Aerin slid up to her, he stopped with his head between her thighs. He nipped at her fingers, which were feverishly stroking her sex and very moist with her arousal by now, and replaced them with his own. A shudder went through Aeren as she felt her twin spread her opening, slowly inching the tip of his smooth, soft finger into her. A quiet, impatient moan escaped her lips as he started to stretch her entrance, then an exasperated sigh as he withdrew before his tongue came to play. She shivered as she felt his tongue—which was quite long, hanging just short of an inch past his chin; Aerin had very badly ruined cunnilingus for her with any other man, though he was the only man who gave it to her—begin to lightly stroke her tembling, sopping womanhood, before he brought his lips to her and began drinking in the arousal from her wet channel that ached for something, anything to fill it, so long as it was Aerin's. Preferably his member, which she knew to be iron-hard and hot, just the right size to fill her the perfect amount and always taking her with a rough, bestial savagery that pounded her, screaming, to orgasm after violent orgasm. She whimpered, biting her own lip as her sex quivered from the thought. She would start begging soon if he kept teasing her so, and though they both ultimately loved it when she was humiliated such it was always something she was reluctant to do. So she whimpered and whined, her ample breasts heaving from her pants of arousal, the soft pink buds at the tip of each standing on end, as she silently prayed he would enter her soon. Almost as though sensing her thoughts, though, the moment she did she felt his tongue snake itself into her and begin writhing and twisting within her sex, which clamped down and conformed to it, soaking it and making sure that he got a very good taste of his sister's "forbidden" lust. The strength left her arms and she fell to her back, moaning and panting and sometimes screaming in beloved ecstasy as Aerin ate at her pussy, her raven locks splayed out under her pale, arching back, darker than even the deepest midnight of their sheets. She writhed and bucked her hips, holding his head in her hands and twining her fingers in his hair as he encompassed her engorged clitoris in his lips, sucking and licking and ever-so-gently-pinching with his teeth and tongue as her eyes rolled back and she pressed him against her, silently begging him for more, more, more and offering her everything for him in exchange. He obliged, his tongue curling within her to stroke and prod that particular button within her that made her throat constrict and kill the sound of her would-be piercing scream as everything that was her clenched, flooding her womanhood with her orgasm. She held him there still, her muscles frozen iron, as her brother drank her climax dry, greedily gulping down her pleasure and only growing harder from the rich, heady taste.
When she finally relaxed, she fell limp, panting as though she were a mortal who just ran twenty marathons while fighting a war single-handedly. Aerin was the only one who could so exhaust Aeren, and she loved him for it amongst many other things. Lyceus was always tired just when she was begining to have fun, and Emmanuel simply used her, with a kind of uncaring roughness that one might associate with offhanded rape, until he was satisfied before throwing her out, undressed and unhappy. But Aerin always made sure they both slept deep and smiling.
She smiled as she relaxed, her eyes fluttering closed as he gave her the respite he always did, fiddling with her brother's hair as he slid up, purposefully rubbing his body against hers until his head rested on her bosom. She pressed him into the soft, fluffy mounds, smiling down at him and giggling softly when he arched his back and she felt the heat of his manhood near the folds of her channel. She released him, and then he took her wrists and pinned her before rushing himself in to the hilt. Her breath hitched and her moan caught in her throat as she was suddenly filled by the same member that had taken her innocence and made him a true man so long ago, seemingly designed for her as a key for a lock. And unlock her he did, grinding their hips together as she arched her back, trying to press against him but pinned by the wrists and adoring it. Then he began to thrust, at first slowly and gently, but gradually gaining in alacrity and savagery, beginning to jolt her body and rock the great bed upon which they commited a taboo they so often commited, accompanied by the chorus of his soft, sighing grunts of pleasure and her panting and moaning. Aeren loved to make noise for her brother, vocalising just how much she wanted him to take her and make her his, and Airen preferred to keep silent, which worked to emphasise that he was always the one in control between the two. Aeren was not usually submissive at all, being the one in charge during her trysts with Lyceus and treated as little more than a sex toy by Emmanuel. For her twin brother though, who she was senior to by two and a half minutes, she was but putty in his hands. Neither knew exactly why, and neither would change a thing about it for the world; Aeren would readily bend over backwards to make Aerin happy, and Aerin would jump through hoops to see Aeren smile. Both would rip anything that harmed the other into indistinct, innumerable, minute shreds before turning around to their treasured sibling and lover and doing whatever it took to make everything right as rain. Whatever the others thought, Aerin fought only to keep Aeren safe, and Aeren only allowed the others to bed her so she could better perfect and practice the arts for Aerin.
As Aerin's continual pushing and pulling of his throbbing hardness grew faster and more urgent, so too did Aeren's panting and moaning, her hips rising to meet his every thrust and her body undulating in time with his motions, their incestuous lovemaking a long-ago mastered dance between two who were one. To say he fucked her would be an insult to the beauty of it; each was entirely focused on the other, their deep red eyes lost in each others' gaze and their tender smiles mirror images of each other, they were at their most synchronous then, as both neared their joint climax that made the effort so worthwhile. Then, as a pair of identical fanged livers are wont to do, both bared their necks and gently dug their fangs into eavh others' flesh, unpiercing. And then they tensed, and both at a time they climaxed, Aerin's member swelling before pumping a gout of his seed deep into his sister's womb, Aeren's channel clenching and unclenching in waves along his hot erection, guiding her brother's pleasure deeper into her body. They were still, then, teeth at each others' necks and panting through their identical small, narrow noses as each enjoyed the fading twitches of the other's orgasm. Finally, they parted and Aerin withdrew, his sister's slit glistening slightly with their mixed pleasure and her body beginning to accrue a sheen of sweat. But neither was quite satisfied, and while they enjoyed making love both liked it more when they did things along the lines of what came next.
They smiled at each other, words being superfluous to them then, as Aeren shifted, rolling over onto her front and rising slightly, presenting her hips to him. His still-hard length glistening with their mixted fluids, he pressed the tip of his manhood against her rear entrance, gathering her hair in his hand and smiling at her, Aeren returning a sheepish smile before she bit her lip, closing her eyes as her brother suddenly slid his member into her bottom, which had been made clean after she turned and stayed so since, as Aerin pulled roughly on her long, inky locks. He exhaled heavily through his nose as she wriggled slightly, lowering her front before he began to take her from behind, her hips bouncing off his own and his grip on her hair always pulling her back, her tight, but not too tight, bottom massaging and stroking his arousal, which slide smoothly in and out of his sister's soft, shapely rump as she bounced away and was dragged back, her nipples dragging against the velvety covers and sending little electric tingles through her with every motion, making her whimper softly as her bottom was filled by a foreign yet familiar hardness. Something she wished she could reserve for Aerin alone. But she only really enjoyed it with him; she didn't orgasm without stimulating herself, but it was fun and felt good in a different manner from what her brother was enjoying; she enjoyed being dominated in this manner, being made to please him without trying to as she was pushed away and dragged back by his hips and then his pulling on her hair. She stopped biting her lip and let out a long, low moan as she started to fondle herself, toying with her slit while Aerin stuffed her with his erection, briefly wishing he had two before reconsidering. She would get tuckered out long before he was done if he had two cocks she needed to take, stroke, suck and otherwise lavish attentions on to make him happy. As she slowly worked herself to orgasm though, Aerin pulling her hair further to make her raise herself up, bouncing her on his length faster and harder, the small portion of her mind not overcome with a burning need to climax just one more time figured she would still tucker herself out, just for Aerin. She smiled, panting softly as she felt his hard member swell and burst, his hot load pouring into her in a much more fulfilling manner than Emmanuel could ever manage.
Shortly after, Aeren let out a satisfied sigh as her brother reached around, still with his lusting member inside her other channel, to fondle her large, well-shaped breasts. It was around this time that Aeren's efforts bore fruit as she masturbated herself to orgasm, quietly except for a happy little whine as Aerin pinched her rosy-pink, sensitive nipples, tugging gently before flicking the pads of his fingertips against their tips, then cupping and taking their weight into his hands. She leaned back, grinding her hips slightly to try and pleasure him more while he still violated her rump as he played with her breasts, squeezing and massaging them in ways he knew she liked them to be toyed with, both smiling as they gave each other little bits of pleasure before they drew this session of theirs to a close. Then, he slapped them with a rough playfulness that made her yelp and giggle as he at last pulled himself from her bottom, then laid on his back. Now was when Aeren repaid Aerin for the beautifully powerful orgasm his tongue had given her that evening, and she smiled at her brother as she bent down to show him her gratitude and love.
Aerin laid back onto the pillows with his hands behind his head, smiling back at Aerin as she leaned down and began to lap at his member, licking their mixed juices from his length and making his toes curl slightly as her tongue rasped against him and her warm breath enveloped him. His sister had been right about that; she knew better than anyone how to use her mouth when it came to men's pleasure. After lapping off their fluids, she flicked her tongue playfully against the tip, her full, soft breasts falling against his thighs and groin and making him shiver. She giggled at him, then, and he reached down to stroke her hair as he felt her warm, fluffy cleavage envelop his manhood, Aeren humming softly as she rubbed her breasts against her brother's erection. She was proud that he was still so aroused for her, which he never was for any other girl, and she wanted to make sure his unspoken compliment was rewarded as she began to bounce her warm, round mounds up and down his member, craning her neck to lap at the tip like a dog would lap a faucet. After a while, he let out a soft sigh as she switched gears, taking the head between her lips and slowly sucking his member into her mouth, then her throat. She did not gag—she had long ago lost that reflex from pleasing her brothers and father—but she hummed softly, a thing she only did for Aerin, as she began to bob her head up and down his length, sucking fiercely and lathering it in her saliva as her tongue played around the hot, thick member she so readily swallowed. His scent was heavy, and made her head spin, but in a good way. His hand on her head let her know when he wanted it faster, or slower, or shallower or deeper. She smiled as she felt it get hotter and hotter in her mouth, beginning to drag her fangs lightly along her brother's most sensitive part, nibbling gently on the tip, before she took him to the hilt and greedily swallowed his seed as he swelled and burst in climax once again. She giggled around his cock, continuing to play with him as he at last began to soften, sucking him it to make certain she had every last drop. When she was certain she couldn't entice anymore, she let him go with a soft *pop!*, licked her lips and sat back with a fake frown of disappointment on her face as she groaned out an "Aw. Are you already done playing, Aerin?"
He chuckled as she crawled up to snuggle against him, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as they slipped beneath the covers together, stroking her cheek. "Don't 'aw' me, Aeren. You know as well as I that you're done for the moment." He kissed her as she smiled, cuddling up and resting her head on his chest, and they simply laid there in silence for a time.
Then Aerin heard the soft clicking of the door latch, and saw their brother poke his head in the door. Aerin waved him away in a shooing gesture, which Lyceus took as invitation to enter. Aerin frowned, growling "Piss off, Lyceus. This is our room. If Aeren wanted to pounce on a rat she'd go to you." He really did not like their elder brother, who truth be told wasn't even really their brother. Aerin and Aeren were the only "true" Laccetas who were related to each other by blood; they and Lyceus and Emmanuel were only related because Emmanuel had been the one that turned them all. Lyceus, thus, did little to resemble the twins who lay curled together in bed. Aerin's chosen insult was in fact an apt description of the elder heir to the Lacceta clan, who quite resembled a tall, scrawny drowned rat that had lost much of it's fur, with yellowing buck teeth that made his speech a bit funny and unkempt nails to match, the only reason Aeren even let him think of her disrobed were to ensure he wouldn't try to harn Aerin, and in the name of keeping her skills sharp for Aerin's pleasure. Though neither twin could say with a straight face that they were happy with such an arrangement, and continually hoped for a chance to lock their brother out in the sun one day. Lyceus frowned, not bothering to hide his displeasure at Aerin's perpetuated existence, saying "Ah, the prodigal fon return." His voice was a touch screechy, as though cracking on every syllable. Aerin had, thankfully, had a quick transition from adolescence to maturity, never enduring an inconsistent pitch he did not intend for. "What newf from the front, then, brofer? Why ftay out fo long?"
"It's not the business of a rat what a panther does, unless that rat happens to be dinner."
"And I inquire about the houfcat that was missing all of laft eveningnand returnf unannounfd tonight. Befidef, I want fome time with—" He reached out to point at Aeren and was cut off as Aerin let out a hissing growl, holding his sister close and curling his shoulder over her protectively. Aerin did not bare his fangs lightly, and Lyceus knew enough of this to take a step back before he wished he'd never been turned. "You," Aerin said, "will not take her from me. She is spent for now. If she wants to degrade herself by letting a wretch like you even see her skirts above her ankle, she will come to you. But now, she stays. Can you underfand that, brofer?" He took on a mocking tone, mimicking the squeaky, drawling headache that was Lyceus' speech, before the eldest turned to leave in a huff. After, Aerin nuzzled his sister's neck, then settled down to sleep with her as, outside, dawn came, and within the mansion Lyceus viciously bent over the girl with a bouncy step and tore into her ass with enough savagery to ensure she would not sit easily for a few weeks. Not that she minded, being a half-sentient slave to the whims of all the nightstalkers of the Lacceta; to hear Lyceus tell it, she may have even orgasmed more than once from the ordeal.
Eventually, they awoke, though the sun still cast shadows; it being spring, the blood-drinkers found themselves confined to their house longer and longer with each passing week. A possible downside to having immortality that immolates upon exposure to ultraviolet radiation. But it was easy enough not to mind being cooped up when one shared a house—or better yet, a bed—with a coterie of people willing to serve one as they pleased. It was all the better when you had a devoted sister willing to go to bed with you just after waking up. Though Aeren spent much of her time spoiling Aerin, rarely going anywhere if she wasn't at his heels singing for him or in his lap showering affection upon him. She was certainly happy to know he was alive, for though it was her usual routine to lavish him with her attention whenever she got the chance, she did so now with such dedication as to ignore the wants of her other two men. It would not be far off the mark that Aeren had built her entire world around her brother soon after they were turned, and she had been quite shaken when that foundation had almost slipped away. Days came and went while Aeren rarely flew to anyone's call but Aerin's, until all too soon the messenger pidgeon arrived. It carried a rolled piece of paper inside a silver tube, and the paper was marked only with a shield and the word "sunset". Their spies within the house of Beaumont had learned when the mortals intended to attack. And Aeren was not happy in the least about the news.
"Oh, why can't you just stay home, Aerin?" She pleaded as her brother buckled on his sword belt, from the left hip of which hung the carved ebony hilt with silver leafwork of his new sword, his old one having never been recovered from the last skirmish. The blade itself was a shiny, almost silver steel that the smith had called "celestrium". He sighed as she asked the same question in different words for the umpteenth time, "And leave the thralls to handle a full Beaumont attack alone, Aeren? No, I need to go." He smiled at her, hugging her lovely frame close as she held her hands against his chest, burying her face in his coat. "Please, Aerin, I'll do anything. I'll stop listening to Father and Lyceus, I'll sing better, but please don't leave me again!"
He frowned when he felt a strange wetness leaking through his coat. She was crying, and to his dismay this was one hurt he could not destroy for her. He remembered, then, what it felt like to be helpless. He sighed, stroking her hair slowly as she began hiccupping as she cried, mewling into his coat. "Aeren," he smiled down at her, cupping her chin and making her look him in the eye, crimson to maroon, "I will be fine. I will go out, best our enemies, and return to my hero's welcome, just like I always have. And always will, until I need not leave again. Mm?" He chuckled as she calmed down, then kissed her, saddened by the salty taste of her lips. "Now. Dry your eyes and wait for your brother to return, my nightingale." She smiled, then, scrubbing her eyes with the heels of her palms, while he left as the last sliver of the sun vanished and the land once again became his domain. The Lacceta thralls had already departed, and no doubt there would have already been bloodshed as the two sides once more collided, but Aerin was swift in his departure, and the night was barely an hour old when he arrived to the fray.
It was chaos, as expected. The Beaumont soldiers more or less matched the Laccetas in number, but many of them held more experience, and thus the Beaumont forces held an advantage, for every one of them that fell, three more did of Aerin's forces. The field was filled with the groans of the dying, cries of the wounded, and the shouts of the fighting, the sharp ring of steel-to-steel everpresent and dominating the air. It stank of blood and sweat and pain, and no doubt by the end of the night this place would be in a similar state to how it had been before; a hell of nightmares. With a long, slow exhalation, Aerin drew his own sword and leaped into the fray. He needed no battlecry; he simply set about him, his steel flicking and flashing in the light of the heavens and the odd torch carried by newer blood to this endless war, here piercing a heart, there slicing a throat, once or twice eviscerating a man unfortunate enough to lack armor. Not that one could readily protect against a true Lacceta, whose strength was such to cleave tree trunks in twain with a bared hand. The servants of his house rallied to him wordlessly, and slowly but surely the odds became more even, as they always did, and the servants of the Beaumont name started to die in numbers. His thralls sought merely to dispatch the enemy, be they dead or wounded; Aerin struck to kill, a soldier of fortune among those who fed on the blood of men.
The battle wore on, it's pace shifting and flowing in waves and eddys much like the tides of a river, much like war. Where there once was green, now there was red; where once there was grass, now a lifeless husk. Aerin fed when he could, sometimes from a slave set aside for such a purpose, other times from an unfortunate enemy that let himself be captured. As the moon rose high, however, something strange happened. The circle of slaves surrounding him as he took a moment to drink began to distort, bending inward more and more. He looked up from his meal and shouted, drops of blood falling from his lips, commanding them to hold the line. And the line was not held; as the words left him, it in fact broke. A soldier—an officer, by the looks of his armor and the tasseled spear he swung around with so little apparent effort—leaping into the circle and striking for Aerin without ceremony. In a hurry, he fled the man he had been feeding from and leapt back. Too slow; the sound of cloth tearing to the soldier's battlecry met Aerin's ears and his eyes shot wide open as a hot, sticky wetness poured out of his side. The wound would heal, of course, but Aerin had quite liked that coat.
Diving away from the officer, the Lord Lacceta hit the ground in a somersault, drawing his sword as he slid a good two meters before his boots found purchase in the blood-soaked earth that had been churned into a thick mud. During his theatrics, it seemed his slaves finally noticed their master under attack and had divested the man of that pesky lance before being smote by his longsword, a dull grey steel, in some spots black with bloodstains. He charged his most hated enemy and Aerin met him with bared fangs and a predatory hiss, their duel begun. In a matter of moments, it was done, their blades flickering back and forth like slivers of the moonlight before both fell, Aerin to his knee, the other into pieces.
After what seemed an epoch but was really only a couple of hours, it was over. The Beaumonts turned back and retreated, the Laccetas took their wounded to the Lady and left. Among those wounded was Aerin, who had several parts of him hanging on by just a few threads and had put himself into a tranced sleep while he healed, two of his slaves carrying him in by his shoulders and knees. Bad luck, to twice take to this house in as many battles.
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