knight

It is a joyous thing, war. _You love your comrade so much in war. _When you see that your quarrel is just, and your blood is fighting well, tears rise to your eyes. A great sweet feeling of loyalty and of pity fills your heart on seeing your friend so valiantly exposing his body. _And then your are prepared to go and live or die with him, and for love not to abandon him. _And out of that, there arises such a delectation, that he who has not experienced it is not fit to say what delight is. _Do you think that a man who does that fears death? _Not at all, for he feels so strengthened, so elated, that he does not know where he is. _Truly he is afraid of nothing.

Knights do protect ladies, but only to keep them from being abducted by other knights.

You see all the other fellows were so active and earnest and all that sort of thing- always rampaging, and skirmishing, and scouring the desert sands, and pacing the margin of the sea, and chasing knights all over the place, and devouring damsels, and going on generally- whereas I liked to get my meals regular and then to prop my back against a bit of rock and snooze a bit, and wake up and think of things going on and how they kept going on just the same, you know!

War seems like a fine adventure, the greatest most of them will ever know. Then they get a taste of battle. For some, that one taste is enough to break them. Others go on for years, until they lose count of all the battles they have fought in, but even a man who has survived a hundred fights can break in his hundred-and-first. Brothers watch their brothers die, fathers lose their sons, friends see their friends trying to hold their entrails in after they__e been gutted by an axe. They see the lord who led them there cut down, and some other lord shouts that they are his now, They take the wound, and when that__ still half-healed they take another. There is never enough to eat, their shoes fall to pieces from marching, their clothes are torn and rotting, and half of them are shitting in their breeches from drinking bad water.If they want new boots or a warmer cloak or maybe a rusted iron half helm, they need to take them from a corpse, and before long they are stealing from the living too, from the small folk whose land they__e fighting in, men very like the men they used to be. They slaughter their sheep and steal their chickens, and from there it__ just a short step to carrying off their daughters too. And one day they look around and realize all their friends and kin are gone, that they are fighting beside strangers beneath a banner that they hardly recognize. They don__ know where they are or how to get back home and the lord they__e fighting for does not know their names, yet here he comes, shouting for them to form up, to make a line with their spears and scythes and sharpened hoes, to stand their ground. And the knights come down on them, faceless men clad in all steel, and the iron thunder of their charge seems to fill the world.And the man breaks.

Knight without fear and without reproach.

Life lessons.... You have faced me head on and still I was reluctant to learn, I looked sideways anyway but in your eyes. I refused to see , ignored the lessons .. all too much. Guess what? Now I have no choice but to open my eyes. My very survival depends on it. I have to learn to depend on me. Finally it has clicked . I am my own knight in shining armour. ' Standing up for me!

I'd say," the Ranger answered after a few seconds' deliberation, "that he'll be heading south now that he has the chance. Back into Araluen.""How do you know that?" Horace asked. He was always impressed at the two Rangers' ability to read a situation and come up with the correct answer to a problem. Sometimes, he thought, they almost seemed to have divine guidance."I'm guessing," Halt told him.

Should one continue to follow the faith of a group that's cast him out? Shouldn't it stand to reason that if he was true to that faith that the group should have been true to him? Is it unreasonable to ask forgiveness of one who is all-forgiving?

When a man hath no freedom to fight for at home,Let him combat for that of his neighbours;Let him think of the glories of Greece and of Rome,And get knocked on the head for his labours.To do good to Mankind is the chivalrous plan,And is always as nobly requited;Then battle fro Freedom wherever you can,And, if not shot or hanged, you'll get knighted.

The worm doth woo the mortal, death claims a living bride, Night unto day is married, morn unto eventide, Earth a merry damsel, and heaven a knight so true,And Earth is quite coquettish, and beseemeth in vain to sue.

My eyes went to him. "Your rule, honey. I can go put panties on." His eyes came to me. "You do, I get the strap.

Toasted almond pancakes. Sweet soft 'okays'. Makin' me laugh more in a few weeks than I have in decades. 'Yes, Daddys' I feel in my dick. The first voicemail you left me, babe. I saved it and I listen to it once a day. If I lose focus, I see you on your back, knees high, legs wide, offering your sweet, wet pussy to me. You smile at me in bed every time you wander outta my bedroom in my shirts, my tees, or your work clothes and honest to Christ, it sets me up for the day. And no matter what shit goes down, I get through it knowin' whichever bed I climb into at night, you're in it ready to snuggle into me or give me what I wanna take. Your girl, a headache. You, never. And in a life that's been full of headaches, babe, having that, there is no price tag. You gotta get it and do it fuckin' now that there's a lotta different kinds of give and take. And you give as good as you get, baby, trust me.

Without honor, a knight is no more than a common killer. It is better to die with honor than to live without it.

He leaned his head against the rock. Christ, when was the last time he__ seen the humor in life? And now, of all places, in an enemy camp, with a strange woman who made him burn. Burn with desire. Burn with need. A desire and need not only for her and her body, but for something he couldn__ quite name.

Her pinkie took matters into its own, er, pinkie, and moved oh-so-slightly, grazing his skin. His pinkie, judging by the shape and texture. Blood rushed and pounded through her veins, flushing her skin. This could not, in any way, be explained as an accidental touch. But he could feign sleep if he wasn__ interested. Did she want him to do that? What was she doing? She commanded her pinkie to drop, and thankfully, it obeyed. A jolt shot through her as his finger made a query, and the need clarified. The need represented her desire for some measure of control. Control over her general situation. Control over her attraction. She answered with a gentle finger stroke along his calloused, warm skin. A sharp breath pierced the dark air.

His heat, his erotic pull__he could feel it. A weird, pulsing, virtual pull tugging at her skin, her nerve endings. Made her want to_touch. Made her want. The more she resisted the urge, the stronger it became. It would be a relief, really. To just_touch. One little touch. Just one.

She led them to their pallets, again encircled by other pallets. She sat down, sighing at her aching muscles, and caught his gaze. __ou may, er, wrap your arms around me if that will make you feel I am safer._ He chuckled--a hoarse chuckle, rusty, but a chuckle nonetheless. She__ take it. __ay I indeed?_ He lay beside her and pulled her back against him, settling her head on his arm, bunching the other hide up to use as a pillow. __f I must._ His warm sigh tickled across her neck. __fter all, I must ensure that pinkie does not wander._ Would Robert never let her forget that?

She flapped her hands, anxious energy coursing through her. __ow can you be so calm?_ He got to his feet, unfolding with an easy grace. He held out a hand, his dark eyes focused solemnly on hers. __ome with me._ __or what?_ __hat__ part of the lesson._ Was it her imagination, or did a twinkle of humor stir in those eyes? __enter yourself, and grab onto the here and now._ That made no sense__hat was he now, Sir Medieval Zen Master? But she slipped her hand into his strong, calloused one. He hauled her up until she bumped into his chest. With a finger under her chin, he tilted her face until she looked in his eyes. __isten to the world around you. Hear the birds? Hear the small animals scurrying? You are in this moment, this moment only, and sometimes that__ all you can do, all you can be._ His finger pulled away, brushing against her skin, and he tapped her nose, stepping away.