Even through the frequent puddles, the strike of hooves was nearly a single, pounding sound.Behind the first platoon and at a slight distance, Gillen rode her horse, her uplifted visor showing her eyes looking straight ahead. Her face was firm, though there were tears streaming down her face. Her pennon, similar to the one Kotliss held, was on a long pole but she carried it parallel to the ground. The flag was a dark blue and it, too, had a golden shield but crossed atop the shield were a pair of long swords also embossed in gold.Behind her, their eyes locked straight ahead, Sar Troel and Sir Beffing rode side by side. Uud’s eyes were watery, but Syl couldn’t stop the tears streaming down her face. They were stiff in their saddles, swaying not an inch, as their horses moved forward with sure gait. Unlike the First Platoon, the Third Platoon’s horses were out of synch, however.A small distance behind Syl and Uud, Torus Oloid rode. He was not armored, dressed plainly in a thick, black. "Are you really going to do this?" I asked myself. Clint was watching,sneering as usual. The skirt hung in its usual position; a brand new, onlyjust unpackaged pair of black opaque tights hung from my fingers. Insteadof my usual commando raids on the clothes section in the local Tesco tobuy whatever austere clothing I absolutely needed, I had gone to an actualwomenswear shop on the High Street. Two pairs of pretty panties, onefrivolous bra and a multipack of tights later I had emerged.By the time I had defeated the tights Clint was bored and diligentlywashing his bum. Standing before the mirror, smooth and black from thewaist down, I recalled how much I had admired and enjoyed Kirsty's legs.Even in thick, opaque nylon they still looked good - woman's legs; legsOlivia loved. How exciting had it been to have run my fingers up Kirsty'slegs through those sheer tights she'd worn that most memorable night? Iwanted Olivia to be excited by my legs the way I had been. I wanted Oliviato look at.
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