Surrender (10 page)

"For certs I had pleasure!"

In her attempt to swallow back a sob, the
sound came out as a derisive snort.

"They pleased me more than your puny prick
did." She held up her hand, forefinger and thumb three finger
widths apart. "'Tis naught but the size of a boy half-grown!"

She struck out with her right foot landing
squarely on his tarse which had engorged again when she had
scrambled from beneath him.

His eyes widened with shocked surprise. He
grasped his sex with both hands and bent double while she sprang
off the bed and grabbed her shift all in one smooth motion. He
rolled around on the bed, moaning and holding on to his cock that
had refused to go limp.

Elyne snorted in disgust. Her stupid
aphrodisiacs had finally decided to work. Well, a fat lot of good
it would do her now. The next time they met, she'd be sure to feed
him something guaranteed to shrivel even the most powerful of
men!

But then, she didn't
ever
intend to
set eyes on him again.

She left the room in a different manner from
which she had arrived. She pulled the door shut with as mighty a
bang as she could. She slipped inside her own chamber afore she
heard the first curious footsteps heading toward Graemme's
room.

Let
His Wolfishness
talk her father
into thinking a maid had pleasured him. He was too afeard of having
his stones hanging from the castle barbican to name her.

'Twas not until she had scrambled into bed
and pulled Squat close that she realized the strange sounds she
heard were her own sobs. She scrubbed at her face with the sheet.
Her woman's place felt raw, and her legs ached from having been
spread so wide to accommodate his hips. She felt dirty. All had
been fine until he had suggested she was a woman who slept with any
tarse that swelled and aimed at her!

She threw her arm over her eyes, but his
just-bathed scent of Sandalwood near made her scream. Graemme had
marked her much like a dog did his bitch. She could not rest until
she had washed his smell from her.

Jumping up, she went over to fill the basin.
She tore the shift off her body and scrubbed from her head to her
knees. When she washed her stinging woman's place, she cried again.
The stupid man had thought she was not a virgin because she had not
yelled and screamed and bled like a stuck pig.

Well, he would hear yelling and screaming if
he ever came near her again.

He could count on it!

Fists pounded on Graemme's door before it
swung wide to show Chief Broccin standing there, naked except for
the sword gripped in his hand. Graemme wondered how Elyne had
already alerted her father when he had heard naught but her
footsteps running down the landing.

"Were ye attacked?" Chief Broccin stared at
him. "Where did he go?"

Graemme realized he had curled like a sick
kitten in the middle of the bed. He forced himself to unwind and
appear as normal as possible. He levered his hand on the sheet and
slipped on something wet. When he did, it pulled the sheet back
about the width of his hand. His startled eyes noted the juices
from his release. To cover the stain, he eased the sheet over it as
he sat up.

"Nay. No attack. Just the effects still of
the stomach sickness from earlier. I didna mean to make so much
noise when I returned from fetching cold well water."

He forced himself to straighten and pad over
to the doorway, blocking the room from the chief's view.

"I'm sorry I disturbed ye."

"Still, 'tis best to keep alert," Chief
Broccin said as he stifled a yawn.

As a guard trotted toward them, he motioned
for him to patrol at the end of the passageway then turned his
well-honed body and disappeared into the darkness.

Graemme pulled his tumbled hair from his eyes
and backed into the room. After he latched the door, he lit the
candle and again studied the bed, hoping Elyne's father had not
noted the musky smell of sex in the room.

He was truly fortunate he had not.

If he had, Graemme would have been in deep
shite.

He did not sleep the rest of the night. He
stared at the ceiling and listened for any sound of Elyne leaving
her room. If she did, he had no qualms about stopping her from
going to her father with some trumped up story of his taking
advantage of her.

The slightest sound and his senses were
alert. He didna have to try hard. After her foot had near smashed
his cock up into his body, he didn't think he would ever have a
cockstand again.

He was wrong. After the pain faded, the
demented thing insisted on standing erect the entire night. Of
course, it didn't help with Elyne's heather scent on the bed
linens. And he couldn't keep his mind from reliving the feel of her
thrashing beneath him as she climaxed.

What did finally cool his lust was recalling
her look of total scorn when she snorted and made the obscene and
totally inaccurate judgment about his cock. A half grown boy? Heat
flushed his face and a growl rumbled up from his chest. Why, he had
not been as small as she intimated since he was seven years old.
Not even in the deepest, coldest winters!

He knew he had always been more than adequate
since he was a youth. All the young lads at Clibrick had pissing
contests atop the wall walk overlooking the gardens. One year, they
decided it wasn't fair for all to compete together. They busily
gathered twigs the same length as their limp cock, then decided the
four longest would compete separately.

When he, Magnus, Colyne and Brian proved
their pricks were the same length as the twigs they claimed, they
were the envy of the other lads. Their seventh year, red-haired
Brian had sworn with some envy that Graemme's had grown as much in
length as his body had in height.

The contest ended the year they failed to
note activity in the shadows below. No sooner had the yellow
waterfall burst forth over the walkway than the shadowed ground
below them heaved and exploded.

Chief Angus surged to his feet, piss dripping
off his hind quarters laid bare from knotting his black tunic
around his waist. 'Twas not his shouted curses which sent Graemme
and Magnus scrambling away. Nor was it his fists punching the air
that made them protect their faces. Nay, it was the naked woman on
the ground between their father's feet. They covered their eyes in
horror and near backed off the wall walk on seeing her face.

'Twas their mother.

Even the memory made Graemme flush.

o0o

"Father, I canna marry him! He's the evil man
who pursued Muriele!" Elyne followed her father into the solar,
dogging his footsteps.

"Ye can save yer breath, Elyne. Ye repeated
the vows well and true."

Chief Broccin yawned and walked over to the
large arm chair and settled his arse on its thick tapestry-covered
cushion. When he'd complained about his nether regions going to
sleep from the wood's hardness, Lady Joneta had made it. He
sprawled his legs wide afore him and leaned against the carved
back. He waggled his hand at her as if chasing off a pesky bug.

"Ye heard the stable boy," Elyne spluttered.
"Graemme is searching for a woman. Her hair is the color of wheat.
She's tall and slender."

She paced back and forth in front of the
fireplace, ticking off a finger with each point she made. Still,
her father refused to budge.

"Mayhap he looks for a thieving servant."

"He's from the Highlands!" There. She had
saved her best argument for last.

"Aye. He made no secret of it." Broccin snort
sounded impatient.

"He wouldna search this far for a woman who
stole a coin."

Broccin crooked a finger at Domnall as Elyne
continued to argue.

"And ye know Muriele had nothing of value.
When Moridac found her, she had naught but the dead horse beside
her."

"Domnall, send a man-at-arms to follow my
soon to be son-by-law." His face hardened and his eyes hooded and
glinted with menace.

"I already have. I'm waiting for him to
return."

Broccin nodded and pointed. "Then remove this
yammering girl afore I smash her like a bothersome fly."

o0o

Later the next morning, Graemme pulled his
mount to a halt and held up his hand for quiet as he eased out of
the saddle and stretched out on the ground, his ear pressed to the
road. He wasna sure, but he felt it in his bones. Someone followed
after they left Raptor Castle.

He pointed to Colyne, then to his own eyes
and then motioned to the tallest tree. Colyne nodded. In a few
quiet moves, the man was perched atop the highest strong branch
without even having made the tree sway. He grinned down at them and
held up one finger before he returned to the ground with as much
ease as what he had climbed.

"Hm. One man, eh?"

One man meant Chief Broccin's purpose was to
learn where he went and not to beat the shite out of him before he
carved him up as he would a stag for the fire pit. Elyne had kept
her mouth silent. No doubt in fear he would declare he wasn't the
first to possess her. His cock still throbbed and tried to swell,
reminding him of her insult.

"Aye. He was riding hard until he came to the
place where we last took a piss. How in Hades did he know such?"
Colyne scratched his head.

A bark of laughter burst from Brian. He
grinned as he said, "Mayhap he heard our friend here comparing the
length of his cock to our own."

"What caused yer sudden worry, Graemme, hmm?"
Brian's blue eyes sparked with mirth.

"Did yer future wife take a peek to see if
the curse left yer prick intact to pleasure her?"

Graemme felt heat begin in his neck. He knew
Brian fought to keep his expression solemn.

"Shite!"

"Well, Lucifer's wicked funny bone!" Colyne
crowed. "That's it!"

"Dinna be a fool." Graemme pressed his horse
into a trot.

"Ye were right, Colyne," Brian nodded and
grinned. "Not since the day we doused his father has he even
thought to have a pissing contest."

"Ye are both blatherin' like lasses. If ye
talk less and pay attention to the path, we will make better
time."

Graemme urged his mount to a canter and
pulled ahead of them. When they quickened their pace, he near put
the horse into a gallop to avoid the discussion.

o0o

At dusk two days later, they came out of the
woods atop a rise. The land sloped downward from there, nearly bare
of trees. A lush valley spread before them. At the far end at the
foot of the next rise rose the walls of what could only be the
Convent of Mary Magdalen. Though several buildings stood within the
walls, it was smaller than an abbey would be. From this distance,
he made out a narrow tower over the entrance gate. A large, wooden
cross stood above it.

"Come. We must pretend we have come upon the
convent by surprise. Search along the walls and pretend ye look for
a postern gate. Look upward and study the battlements as if seeking
a weak spot."

"What is the point, Graemme? We learned
yesterday the villager's cousin had talked about seeing a man a
sennight ago wearing a strange helmet. It could only be Magnus'"
Colyne said.

"To be sure Magnus has a good start before
anyone knows he took Muriele, lackwit." Brian cuffed his friend on
the shoulder.

"Aye. We aim to mislead anyone following us.
It will give Magnus extra days to get ahead before someone tries to
waylay him. Besides, we wouldna want Raptor's man to return without
something to report." Graemme eyed the convent and made up his
mind.

"Colyne, take the left side of the convent
and circle around it. Brian, take the right around to the back.
I'll take the area surrounding it." Graemme removed his helmet and
cupped it in the crook of his arm. "Once I'm done, I'll apply at
the gate and ask for shelter during the night."

They made a show of examining the surrounding
area and the walls. When they rang the bell at the entrance gate,
an old man appeared to question them. Once assured they sought only
a place to lay their heads for the night, he returned with a man
who appeared to be the gardener. He lifted first one heavy bar and
then pulled a second from its iron holders.

Graemme learned the old monk lived out his
days helping protect the good sisters and women sheltered there.
The second man who looked like the gardener caught Graemme's
interest. Mainly because once they entered through the convent
gates, he never left them out of his sight. He plied them with
conversation. Not just as a man thirsty to talk to another. If
Graemme were less cautious, he would not have noted the skill with
which the man sought information. He protected someone or
something.

While Graemme was near a prisoner with the
tall monk, Colyne and Brian talked with the old man. When Colyne
caught his eye and gave an imperceptible nod, he knew his friend
had learned something of import.

He did not need to question anyone. When he
needed to relieve himself, he made his way through the kitchens
leading outside. A cook's helper handed one of the sister's a tray.
Atop it was a bowl of the hearty chicken soup together with hot
bread. She talked low, but he picked up bits of pieces of what she
said. "'Tis strange...eating more now...confined herself...commune
with God."

He felt a surge of relief. Magnus had come to
his senses and left Muriele at peace here in the convent.

When he returned, the gardener made it a
point to show him to a pallet near his own, separating Graemme from
his men.

The next morn when they rode out, his feeling
of ease died a sudden death.

"Ye learned what?"

Graemme's relief scattered faster than
snowflakes during a winter storm.

"A man who must have been Magnus came to the
convent over a sennight ago. He led a second horse with a cloaked
woman on its back. The old man likened her hair to summer's grass."
Colyne shook his head over the poetic wording by the aging
monk.