The Battered Lamp Chapter Thirty-Six: The Gamble of the Warrior - Sex Stories

The Battered Lamp Chapter Thirty-Six: The Gamble of the Warrior

... do so again. It's probably not even my mother. It's just a trick. Probably a Si'lat whore masquerading as my mother, a construct of water, or a spirit trying to trick me. He would save his wife. Kyle raised his sword over his head. His mother stared at him without fear. Kyle's sword fell from his fingers. He couldn't kill his mother. He couldn't take the chance that it wasn't her buried in those dark-brown eyes. He fell to his knees. His resolve snapped, shattering within him. “I surrender.” Christy's hazel eyes found his, tears brimming in her dark depths. I failed you, Christy. I failed us all. His shoulders slumped, his head lowered. All his strength seemed to bleed out of him. It was all over. He had lost it all. “I'm such a fool.” A shadow fell over him. Makerah staggered up, blood sheeting down his body, a wild look in his eyes. He grasped Earthbones, holding it over Kyle's head. More shame flooded Kyle. His enemy wielded his weapon. “What are you doing, Makerah?” Rashid demanded. “Executing him.” Makerah's voice was thick and wet, blood bubbling at his lips. “He cut me! He almost killed me!” “Put the sword down!” Rashid stood up, swelling with power. “No!” Makerah raised Earthbones up high. Kyle stared up at the blade, glinting gold and silver. “Stop this!” bellowed Rashid. “I made a promise to him. He surrendered. He shall be staying as my prisoner.” “He is too dangerous!” snarled Makerah, spitting blood. “And his wives and harem are even more dangerous! They will ...

... want blood if we kill him. They have the strength of force that can wipe us out. Kyle is the only hostage against their retribution. I cannot let you kill him.” “You cannot stop me, Father!” “Do it!” hissed Faiza. “Cut him down! He deserves it for all he's done!” “This is my throne room and you shall listen to me!” “He hurt me!” screamed Makerah. Water coalesced in the room, great homunculi bursting to life, surging with Rashid's anger. Makerah sliced Earthbones down at Kyle. Kyle stared at death hurtling down towards him. A part of him wanted to die. He had only imprisonment to look forward to. Dying at Makerah's hands seemed cleaner. But hope flared inside him. As long as he lived, there was always a chance. Earthbones was Kyle's sword. He had claimed it. He reached out, summoning it to his hand. The blade disappeared out of Makerah's grip in a whirl of gold. Makerah stumbled, off-balanced by the sword's disappearance. It reappeared in Kyle's hand. The homunculi surged forward, seizing Makerah in watery grasps, hauling the maddened Marid away as he cursed and yelled. Kyle seized his sword for a moment, preparing to rise. His mother tightened her grip on Christy, pressing the dagger into his wife's throat. Kyle dropped the sword a second time. “You won, Rashid.” “No! You have to kill him!” his mother hissed as two watery homunculi seized Kyle's shoulders, pinning him to the floor. He didn't fight. His mother let Christy go, standing up with grace and striding towards Kyle, ...