8 comments/  46180 views/  21 favorites

Alais's Settlement

By: VelvetDarkness



This story is set in the 12th century keep of Striguil, known today as Chepstow Castle and situated on the Welsh (Celtic) side of the river Wye in Britain. At that time, King Henry Plantagenet was on the throne and his warring sons, Henry, Richard and John managed to create vacuums of authority, which rebel Celts from both the north (modern day Scotland) and the west (modern day Wales) always used to their advantage.

*

Alais sat in the bower with her ladies, stitching an undershift with cramped fingers as rain lashed against the great keep of Striguil Castle, sat overlooking the River Wye and one of the frontier holdings of the Marcher lands. Her father had died in service to King Henry the year before and her mother had passed on years ago, following the difficult birthing of her youngest brother, Harold. Alais, the only surviving child of a largely loveless marriage, was under the care of a warden, one of King Henry's most trusted knights. Sir Walter administered her lands and saw that the crown was free to milk their profits until Alais was safely married off. King Henry himself would decide who her husband was to be, so great was the dowry of land she held. To her knowledge and despite all the fighting between Henry and his sons, only two other young, fatherless heiresses had more wealth and land to bestow upon a prospective husband and only one was of a marriageable age. Under normal circumstances, she would be safely walled up in the Tower of London until attention could be given to her marriage and the allocation of her estates. However, there had been so much trouble in London and the south since she had lost her father that even though there were men at arms enough to escort her, the journey had been deemed too hazardous. She had turned eighteen just a few weeks ago and although her ladies had done much to mark the occasion, it was not the same with her father gone and Sir Walter strutting about the place as though he owned it.

Sir Walter had often looked upon her with something other than the cursory duty of a castellan. It was embarrassing enough that her breasts had suddenly budded and required her to order more cloth to let out her shifts and gowns in the bodice and hips and even to stitch some new ones. Just a few days since, he had stopped her in a deserted hallway to admire her work with embroidery around a new green bodice sewn into a dress of brown twill. It had made her flesh crawl to look at his whiskery features softening at the sight of her modestly rounded bosom and she had hastened to excuse herself. Now that she was aware of the encumbrance of her developing womanhood and the overly watchful eye of Sir Walter, Alais had taken to braiding her thick red curls and binding them up in a more mature style. She no longer ran about the keep with the laughing freedom of a street urchin. Her dresses now fell properly to the floor and Alais no longer hitched them up and displayed her hose and shoes when she was impatient or in a rush. It was all very confining and she knew that it would be all the more so once she had been married off to some arrogant knight who wanted her for the trophies of her beauty and wealth and to use her as a brood mare. It was likely she would be given to a man twice her age, one mature enough to manage such a large estate and whose loyalty to King Henry was proven. They would have nothing common and she would rot within these walls until she died, or until he died and then if she did not marry again swiftly and according to the King's wishes, she would meet her end in walled up within a convent. It often made her wish ungratefully that she was a street urchin.

That morning, Sir Walter had ridden out to make an annual accounting to the King. The weather was such that he would have postponed the journey a day or two but King Henry was not the sort of man whom one kept waiting for any length of time. The increasing animosity between Henry and his sons was prompting him to take stock of the wealth he had dispersed about the land and what he could commandeer in the way of gold, men and supplies from his dukes, barons and castellans in the event of a civil war. It was also rumoured that he was seeking renewed pledges of fealty from his vassals, hopefully ensuring that they would not betray him and lend their aid to one of his sons instead. Alais had seen Sir Walter wished Godspeed at Mass and had also bade him a formal farewell as was proper. Now she had the luxury of a few days without his breath down the back of her neck, as he marked in a ledger every last little item that she purchased for her household. Warm braziers lit and heated the room, their fuel suffused with cinnamon to give the bower a cosy feel. The women worked quietly but there was also an air of celebration. A jug of mead was kept warm by the fire and a pot of leek and rabbit pottage bubbled merrily beside it, lacing the room with its aroma.

By the time night fell, all pretence at industriousness and propriety had been abandoned. The ladies sang, clapped time and danced, played at chess and even placed wagers of fripperies, ribbons and small coins upon merels. They drank a little too much wine and laughed a little too loudly but the weeks under Sir Walter's watery, condescending gaze had been arduous indeed.

A hesitant, unmistakeably masculine cough interrupted proceedings and all the ladies turned and stared, hastily endeavouring to compose themselves. A young man but recently knighted was stood in the doorway, uncertain whether to enter. He had on about half of his armour and would have cut an amusing figure, had his countenance not been so grave.

"My Lady, Celts have been sighted and already they are almost upon the keep. It is my sad charge to inform you that we are heavily outnumbered but father bids me assure you that every last man will do his duty. I must ask you all to accompany me to the dungeons immediately below the great hall as it is the most defensible place for you. Do you have your keys?"

Alais stepped forward and drew her heavy bunch of keys from among her skirts to display their place upon her belt.

"I have the keys but I do wonder that one as young as yourself, and only half armed, has been charged with us. Where is your father?" The lad's sire, John Marshall, was the head of Alais's men at arms and a formidable battle veteran who still sat his horse like a man half his age. He was a broad stone wall of muscle and scars with an angry countenance that concealed a gentle and generous nature, when peacetime allowed for it.

"He is rounding up men, weapons and horses. Every able bodied man will fight; grooms, servants, everyone. You will be safe below stairs, please tarry no longer, my lady."

With all haste, Alais descended below stairs with her ladies. The young knight, Jack Marshall, bounded in front of them, clearly frustrated by the slower pace of the women as they lifted their voluminous skirts and attempted to run after years of being taught that it was improper. Only Alais kept pace with him, tucking her skirts into her belt and displaying a truly scandalous amount of slim, stocking clad calf.

"Where are Sir Walter's keys? Who has them?" She asked.

"They were entrusted to Wigain, who does the book keeping. I have not seen him this afternoon." Jack's brow furrowed as he attempted to assimilate this new implication.

"You must take them from him and pass them to your father. He is the only man I trust to judge when to fight and when to yield. I would not have every last man here die in an unwinnable battle and I doubt we have the resources put by to last long in a siege, thanks to Walter's scrimping and fussing. You must see to this personally and you must tell him what I have said. My honour is not worth every soul in this keep."

"I will do as you command, Lady. In a few minutes, more experienced men will take my place here and I will go immediately to find Wigain."

"I thank you. Please have your father thank the men for me. If I get through this alive, I will personally see to it that the families of those who fall are provided for, with my gratitude. Please have him tell them that. God speed to yourself as well, may your youth and strength over reach your inexperience." Alais gave the lad an impulsive squeeze. Their ages were not dissimilar and they had known each other for years. He returned the embrace, surprised and flushed, before gently pushing her away and entreating her to hasten down to the dungeons with the other women.

In the hours that followed, the sounds that the women heard from above were hideous. There was really no way of telling how the battle was faring and Alais was simply pleased and impressed that the Celts' victory had not been a swift one. The half dozen ladies of her household comforted each other and organised the space in which they were confined. One small cell was being unwillingly used as a latrine. Seats and benches were gathered into the largest cell and as an extra precaution Alais locked them in, only opening the barred doorway when a lady was forced to answer a call of nature. If any enemy were to find them, their first ploy was to pretend that the knights had locked them in and they had no keys. Hopefully, they would have the opportunity to flee from their prison while the keys were being searched for.

Before long, they began to lose track of how long they had spent underground. There was no grate at ground level through which they could judge how far into the night they were. It was cold, dank and cramped in their little cell. Alais could not even pace away her worry and impatience.

Eventually, the door that led up to the hall was flung open and a group of men fell through it, John among them, swinging his sword with as much strength and conviction as if the battle had but just begun. It took three men to take him down and they did so in a protracted and bloody fashion, showing no mercy even when John lost his sword. The man mountain went down and lay on his back, his breathing ragged and blood welling up from his throat. It was clear that there was no hope for him. From his position on the floor he focused unsteadily on Alais and her women and gave an anguished cry.

"I am so sorry Lady, you are undone." He rasped, before his chest shuddered and fell still.

John's three assailants fell abruptly silent and stood to one side as another man swept into the cramped hallway, his sword drawn and bloody. He stepped over the body as though it wasn't there and approached the barred cell. He was tall and clean shaven with dark curly hair and a tanned complexion. His eyes glittered like obsidian and it was clear that he was still in the bloodlust of battle. Alais guessed him to be around thirty five years old. He assessed the women as though they were a herd of cattle and then turned away.

"Where are the keys? Surely somebody has managed to secure the keys by now?" The three armed men fled on the pretext of locating them and it was clear to Alais that their loyalty was bought by fear, rather than respect. The man spun on his heel once more and addressed the ladies in Gaelic-accented French. "My deepest apologies dear ladies, I have every confidence that we will be able to put an end to your confinement at any moment, there is, after all, almost nobody left alive to oppose us. Now, on the subject of remaining intact and unmolested, who would care to identify the Lady Alais for me?"

The women hesitated and Alais stepped forwards, aware of the futility of procrastination and afraid that one of her women would be foolishly loyal enough to offer herself as a decoy. Her head was held high but she was suddenly thankful for her full skirt as it concealed the slight tremble in her legs. 

"The Lady Alais is capable of identifying herself. Who might you be and why have you shown no mercy to my people? There is no sense in conquering a lush oasis only to turn it into a desert."

The man's lips spread into a predatory smile and his eyes sparkled as he applauded her with gauntlet clad hands, mocking her dignity and sincerity. 

"Oh very well done. Eloquent, imperious, earnest and just a little belligerent, you will do very well indeed." He looked her up and down. "I am Cynric, the son of old Huw-The-Bloody-Stubborn, I'm sure you've heard of him. He passed on a few months ago and I have taken up his mantle. I am also a humble suitor for your hand and intend to restore your lands to your people. Not the people who live here in shameless luxury but the real ones, those out there with Celtic blood in their veins and Druidic ancestry that goes back a long way further through the mists of time than your Holy Roman Church. We had enough of the Romans when they were here last and your Angevin Royalty would do well to remember it.

His indomitable father, Huw, had been a man in John's powerfully built mould. He had led the Celtic rebellion from the west for many long years but nothing had been heard of him for more than three seasons. He must have been well past his threescore years and to learn of his death was no great surprise to Alais. Her eyes widened and she momentarily baulked as Cynric casually announced that he wanted her hand in marriage. She switched effortlessly to the Celtic dialect of the local people, anxious to demonstrate that she was not unable to communicate with those under her rule and not as distanced from them as he might think.

"My people were happy under my father's rule. My appointed castellan, Sir Walter may be short sighted and a little greedy but the lands have been governed well enough in my stead. Were I able to act as a duchess in my own right, certain changes would be made but I am a loyal subject of King Henry and I will not marry a Celtic rebel. If you remember, when last your father came to besiege me, my people elected to fight at my father's side."

Again, Cynric laughed. He answered her in the same local tongue, gesturing flamboyantly for the benefit of Alais's ladies, who spoke only French.

"Yes and just look where that got your noble sire. You are behind the times Lady, even Henry's own sons are not his loyal subjects. Henry the younger is seeking support from Philip of France to usurp the throne, Richard is demanding to be named his legal heir because of young Henry's treason, John is watching them tourney and waiting to see whose side to choose and if all else fails, the old king still has a bastard son or two snapping at his heels and eager to cause trouble. I am not about to wait and see which worn out old knight in his dotage the King decides to wed you to. That is if he even has the time to look to your settlement any time soon amongst all this uncertainty. Whatever he decides, it is now likely he will not have his arse on the throne long enough to see it accomplished, especially if King Philip decides to stir the pot. I am here to see you settled today young Duchess, make no mistake."

Alais glared at him and started pacing the small cell and to her horror, her rapid, agitated movements caused her keys to jangle on her belt. He face flushed as Cynric chuckled once more.

"Oh, very good. Locking oneself inside a cell and playing the damsel in distress. Well I suppose you are in distress but time will reconcile you to your new situation. Hand them over." Alais hesitated and Cynric rolled his eyes impatiently and switched to French. "Hand them over or I shall have my archers start firing at your women. It will be messy and unpleasant but I daresay they are accurate enough to spare the parts that matter." 

Alais's ladies gasped at such vulgarity but she quickly capitulated, flinging the keys through the bars of their cell with venom. Cynric retrieved them, approached the bars and addressed Alais once more, his voice low and menacing.

"That is the first and last fit of pique I will allow you, Duchess. From here on out the welfare of your ladies depends entirely upon your obedient and modest conduct. I advise you not to fail them." Alais's expression was mutinous in the extreme but she held her tongue. "Now would you care to tell me which key opens this door? It will save a great deal of time and frustration." Alais mutely indicated the correct key and then stepped back as the door was opened. They were led up into the main hall, where the terrified remnants of Alais's domestic staff were laying out something approximating a feast under the watchful eye of Cynric's woad painted men. They eyed Alais and her ladies greedily but a dismissive gesture from Cynric was enough to curb any outward signs of lust.

"Where is the priest?" Cynric demanded and Alais froze, shocked that everything was happening so fast. The old priest who had been her confidante and religious adviser since she was a child was reluctantly brought forth. He was elderly and frightened and she could see immediately that he would do nothing to prevent this farce of a marriage. Cynric's voice cut into her thoughts. "Ladies, if you would please stand by the altar there... in a row will suffice... thank you so much." He turned to Alais and stood before her, close enough to touch her, staring her down. She fought the urge to retreat and glared back at him. "Be advised my Lady that every hesitation or reluctance to complete this ceremony on your part will result in the sacrifice of one of your women. Just in case you count them as expendable, I also promise to go up to the highest rampart and give the order to fire every last little hamlet that I can see." He took her by the arm and brought her before the priest. The old man looked at her apologetically but he also had a knocked arrow trained on his brow. The ceremony was completed with the minimum of fuss. The priest then breathed a sigh of relief as the bow was lowered and he almost sounded pleased when he said,

"You may kiss the bride."

Cynric approached Alais, noting her revulsion with amusement. "I must seem an old warhorse indeed to one such as you." He said. Cynric put an arm around her, forcibly drawing her close and lifted her chin as he lowered his own lips. Alais was too afraid for her women to resist and they were now legally married anyway. At the very last moment, Cynric released her and turned away. "I may kiss her but I won't, she needs breaking and bridling first and there are other urgent matters to attend to." He turned to one of his men. "Escort my Lady to her chamber and see to her... comfort." 

Cynric turned away and began putting his seal to letters announcing their marriage that had clearly been scribed in advance. Messengers were already waiting to transport them goodness knows where. Alais was escorted upstairs to the great chamber that had so recently been her father's.

"You should use the latrine." Her captor said and he waited with his back turned while she did so, bemused. He then took her to the bedchamber and drew his sword. "Remove all your clothes." He commanded.

Alais had been scared enough by the notion of being bedded by Cynric but this was more than she could stand. 

"Cynric will kill you!" She announced.

"I'll be the judge of that. Take them off and then unbind your hair." Reluctantly, Alais did so. "Now get onto the bed." He ordered. Alais obeyed, shaking from head to foot and the man yanked the ties from the bedcurtains and used them to bind her wrists to the headboard. He straddled her in order to do this and his arousal pressed against her belly. "Such a little sweetmeat." He sighed. He ran his blade gently over her throat and her breasts. Alais watched him, immobilised by fear. Then, without warning, he leapt from the bed. His last act was to rip away all the bedclothes and throw them into a heap on the floor.

"Oh the things I could do to you." He announced. Then he turned and swept from the room.

Alais lay there, becoming cold, bored, thirsty and ravenous with hunger. The hours in the dungeon had already piqued her appetite. She started to shiver and to become light headed with fatigue, hunger and worry. Her arms ached through their numbness and she almost began to wish for Cynric to appear.


Alais's Settlement Ch. 02



Thank you to those who gave me positive feedback for chapter one. I apologise to those who thought it was a little too close to nonconsent for comfort. It was not my original intention but suited Cynric's desire to conquer and rule. I hope you enjoy the next instalment. All feedback and any constructive criticism will be well received.

Alais awoke to discover that Cynric had already risen. The curtains had been drawn back and weak sunlight shone into the room, from the overcast sky beyond the windowslit. Alais turned onto her back, although she had rested she was still fatigued and her limbs were heavy with a new lassitude. The previous day's events tumbled through her thoughts as she mustered the courage to rise. 

This was her first day as a married woman. It might even be her first day as a pregnant woman, for ought she knew.

Alais retrieved her clothes from where they had been flung the day before and pursed her lips as she laced the crumpled gown smeared with dirt from the dungeon. She went to a coffer of her mother's old things in the corner of the grand bedroom. Her father had placed numerous keepsakes there and Alais rummaged carefully. After a few minutes she had found a brush for her hair, some combs and a wimple. There was no looking glass in the room as her father had been loathe to encounter his own reflection first thing in the morning but Alais managed to bind up her long red curls. She fastened the wimple and it felt alien and confining. She was a married woman now though, and a duchess. Alais would court no more attention than necessary from Cynric's men. Satisfied that she was respectably attired enough to risk leaving the bedchamber, she ventured into the hallway.

There was a high pitched scream. Then someone grabbed her.

Wulfhild, a formidable woman who had outlived two husbands and had been Alais's personal maid and attendant since before the death of her mother, flung herself upon the young woman's neck, sobbing into a damp kerchief.

"Lady! My goodness, you are alive and whole. What did that fiend do to you? You poor, poor dear." Wulfhild stepped back and examined Alais, keeping hold of her as though unconvinced that she might not be an apparition.

"Calm yourself Wulfhild. I am well enough, as well as I may expect. I have just awoken and am going to the kitchens to break my fast. Has Cynric been awake long?" She almost said, 'my husband' but checked herself. Alais needed time to adjust to the notion, despite the night they had passed together.

"Aye Lady and your new Lord has been dictating instructions and letters all morning so I am told. If I were you, I'd go and find out what he has done with your inheritance before you do anything else. Cynric and his trusted men have evicted Wigain from his scribing chamber so whatever they are plotting, they are being secretive about it." This was a fair assumption as such decisions were traditionally made from the dias in the great hall, before whichever members of the household were present. The maid suddenly coloured. "I was waiting until you rose, your bedsheet must be presented to the priest and then publicly displayed in the hall, as proof of your consummation and erstwhile purity." Wulfhild grimaced and then swept into the bedchamber.

Alais went to the kitchens and discovered that it was only half a candle notch shy of the lunch horn. She was furnished with a large wheat cob stuffed with cheese and devoured it along with a beaker of heather ale. Thus fortified, she marched to Wigain's rooms, knocked once and opened the door, striding through it with more courage than she felt.

"Good morrow husband, may one enquire with what great deeds my Lord fills his day?"

He regarded her neutrally as Alais sat down amongst the men and made it plain she was not about to leave. She recognised one man as Gawain, one of old Huw's trusted men, a pragmatic former mercenary who appeared to see no conflict in attempting to free the Celts from English tyranny while also raping and pillaging at will along the way. He eyed the incongruous pairing of her rumpled gown and securely pinned wimple with amusement.

"Has thy young wench not got a wet nurse to keep her from mischief?" He asked, rolling his eyes at Cynric.

"With any luck she'll be requiring the services of one before King Henry looks to unseat me." Cynric replied. He turned to Alais. "I am seeking vassals and pledges of fealty from my new Barons as well as gold and men from old allies in order to hold this castle secure. When I am sure of my position, I must travel to London and there I will pledge allegiance to the throne in the face of any foreign enemy. My lands will be mine to govern however, without interference or taxation from the crown. Given the threats floating across the narrow sea, I doubt Henry will refuse me."

Alais's eyes widened at his audacity but Cynric could see that she was impressed. Although she was aware of the disapproving stares from Cynric's assembled advisers, Alais pressed on, determined to remind him that his lands had been in her family for generations and she would not be kept ignorant of his intentions.

"And what of the lands you hold through me, are you making changes to the current statutes, rents and taxes?" She forced herself to hold his gaze. Cynric glanced about for a piece of paper and had a portion of the current law read to him.

So he could not read. That was interesting. When he had spoken to her in French, she had assumed him to be an educated man. Alais was fluent in written and spoken French and the local British dialects. She also had passable Latin, when she could bestir herself to labour over the unfamiliar tongue.

"I had planned to discuss those matters over dinner with you, Alais. You will want to move your things into our chamber and rest a little today I expect?" Alais nodded, her expression respectful but resolute. If Cynric thought she was some straw headed girl who could be manipulated by a few platitudes about governing with honour, he was mistaken. 

"I would advise you to consider the families of those who fell during your attack. Masses and prayers are being said this evening and vigil will be kept this night before burials take place tomorrow. The grieving are your people too and I doubt you wish to commence your illustrious reign here as the heartless barbarian who slaughtered them all yesterday."

Cynric considered Alais's words, impressed at her shrewdness and encouraged by her apparent concern for his reputation.

"I will leave it in your capable hands. Compensate the widows and families as you see fit but do not be extravagant. I would also have you give a donation to the church and have candles lit and prayers said for their souls. I expect you to quash any murmurs of rebellion that you may hear, lest more of your people join those who perished, in whatever level of purgatory they may hope to expect."

She inclined her head in acknowledgement, then rose and withdrew, her eyes smarting at the chuckles that followed her from the room. Discretion was the better part of valour for the nonce.

Wulfhild volunteered to move her things and Alais was glad of the other woman's steady presence. The great bedchamber of Striguil Castle was divided into two large rooms. One was the bedroom, with a small alcove containing the great luxury of a private latrine. The other was a large sitting room where a couple could have some privacy and trusted guests and family could be entertained. The next room along the hallway was for an attendant, it was small but well kept and Alais insisted that Wulfhild move her things there so that she had a familiar face close by. Once that was accomplished, Alais changed into a fresh gown of pale green linen and went to the chapel. She had no desire to see the priest who had performed her wedding but Alais did want to see the mourners and say prayers for the dead.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Father Almaric moved quietly through the shrouded bodies, waving his incense burner and uttering Latin prayers in a low intonation that one had to concentrate on in order to comprehend. Alais moved among the mourners, offering her condolences and her heartfelt gratitude for the sacrifices that had been made in the name of her honour. She had wondered if those grieving would hold her partially responsible for yesterday's deaths and become angry with her but nobody did. Rueful congratulations and commiserations were made about her marriage and Alais tried to put a brave face on it, given that she at least was alive and whole. 

Her eyes lit when she saw that Jack Marshall had managed to survive. He had a bandaged shield arm and was leaning upon his drawn sword a little heavily but he was there, standing vigil for his father. Alais drew beside him and crossed herself for what felt like the thousandth time. He looked so handsome, even with suffering and fatigue etched across his brow. The candlelight caught his dark blonde curls and the delicate down upon his chin. His tanned complexion from hours spent in the tiltyard was radiant and he seemed to her in that moment like the golden sun of a god. She took a moment to quell these thoughts before she mustered the courage to approach him.

"I am so sorry Jack." She whispered, knowing how inadequate a sentiment it was.

"It is well my Lady. If my father could have chosen his own end, it would have been fighting for you and for the family he served all his life. He was not built for retirement; he wouldn't have known what to do with himself."

Alais wondered if John would really have chosen to die at the hands of three woad painted heathens who had no notion of chivalry but she edited her thoughts.

"He was exceptionally brave and fought with valour and conviction to the last. He will be commended for his service, not just yesterday but for so many years."

Jack smiled and turned back towards the shrouded body of his sire. John Marshall had no adornments save for his wedding band. He lay with his feet upon his shield and his sword placed on top of him, pointing at his feet. His damaged hauberk, gambeson and helm hung from a wooden cross placed at his head. He would not be buried with his armour, it was part of Jack's inheritance. Alais moved away.

Father Almaric was relieved to hear of Cynric's planned donation.

"It will be gratefully received Lady. We have been stitching people into floursacks and I have precious little with which to pay a hoard of grave diggers, if indeed I can find enough able bodied men. The other churches are asking the local people for what assistance they can give but nothing has yet reached me here. Mayhap some men will lend their strength to the task.

Alais asked the priest to make an accounting of his costs and ensured him that the donation would surpass them. She also promised to search through the keep and return with more linen for shrouds.

"Cynric wishes to have candles lit and prayers said. I would not have him exhaust your supply of beeswax too. I will see how many men may be spared to assist with the burials. My Lord is expecting his sudden establishment here to be contested so he will want a full complement on guard duty. I will also require an accurate record of those who fell and what kin they had relying upon them. Compensation will be made accordingly."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The remainder of the day passed without incident and Cynric accompanied Alais to the Requiem Mass that evening. When the priest had finished his service, Cynric rose and addressed the packed congregation.

"It may seem insincere for me to offer my condolences but I do so unreservedly. I deeply regret the necessary force required to secure this castle. War is always ugly and littered with casualties and I gambled with my own life yesterday, just like those brave men who fell. All I wish to say to you is that I have a purpose in being here and in securing this duchy. I pledge to work to make these lands a better place to reside, a land free of the petty power squabbles underway between King Henry and his sons. While they tear each other down, I truly hope that we will build each other up. I pray that you will not judge me by one terrible day but by all the days henceforth. Thank you."

That evening Cynric and Alais dined in the main hall with the household. Her ladies eyed her sympathetically as she sat and shared a trencher with her new husband. Cynric was attacking the food with gusto while Alais nibbled here and there and sipped her wine, steeling herself to speak.

"My Lord, you did say to me this morn that we could discuss your governance of our lands over dinner. I am very anxious to know that the interests of the people will be protected and that they will not become casualties of King Henry's wrath when you ride south and make demands that will doubtless anger him to a pitch."

Cynric finished his mouthful of food and washed it down with a beaker of ale. He eyed her speculatively, as though judging how much he should say.

"I will change but little to start with. Their tax burden will be lighter because I will not be paying into the royal coffer. The surplus I shall use to make weapons and purchase horses and men. Gawain has an offer of mercenaries from the north and hopefully most of the local people will rally to my cause. I have already contacted our barons and they will be here soon, either to pledge their fealty or spit in my face. At least then I will know how much local assistance I may depend on. Some of them may elect to pay their taxes directly to Henry but it's a perilous journey south and I'm confident that I can arrange for the funds to become... waylaid. The lands to the west are sympathetic, as are the northmen. My eastern frontier should be under Prince Richard's command but he's in London petitioning his father, so I doubt they will attack. The south I can hold by force."

"How soon do you think you will travel to London?" She asked. Cynric shrugged.

"If London does not travel to me in the meantime, probably a month. Henry has more than enough on his golden platter without taking me as a side dish. He knows I won't burn the villages or fire the crops. He knows that when he does get around to challenging me, he will still have a land worth recapturing. All he will lose for the nonce is his revenue and a little pride."

The mood in the hall was subdued and one or two were weeping for their loved ones. Cynric soon tired of the atmosphere and the dark looks thrown at the dias where he sat in the Lord's chair that had belonged to Alais's father for so many years.

"Come Alais, let us retire. There is much to do on the morrow." He rose and offered her his arm. After a moment's hesitation, Alais took hold of his sleeve and allowed him to steer them through the hall and escort her to their bedchamber.

Wulfhild had done an admirable job. There was a fire burning cheerfully in the sitting room and a jug of spiced wine was warming on the hearth beside a coal filled bedpan. The rooms were immaculate and the bed was neatly made as though the previous night had never occurred. A bell had been placed on a stand by the door so that she could be summoned if required.

Cynric poured them both some spiced wine and settled down into a chair. Alais took a sip of hers and promptly spat it out. Cynric examined his cup before putting it down and moving towards the bell.

"What is it? Is the wine sour? I can ring for some more." He lifted the bell and rang it. Alais hastened over to the jug of water on the nightstand and swilled her mouth out, spitting into a matching basin.

"Don't drink it." She gasped, as the door opened and Wulfhild entered, looking thoroughly guilty and completely unremorseful. Cynric comprehended the situation and glared at her, pacing back and forth.

"Is this how you protect your Lady? Is all so lost that your only recourse is to deliver her to her maker?"

Wulfhild looked to Alais, who had recovered somewhat and was moving towards them, lifting her hands in a placatory gesture. The older woman said her piece.

"I never meant to harm her, Alais has never been a drinker. I just wanted to save her from this sham of a marriage and I'll not apologise." Wulfhild lifted her chin and folded her arms stubbornly. Alais cut in, afraid for Wulfhild in the face of Cynric's anger.

"Honestly Wulfhild, if I wanted him dead I could do as much myself. I may have been forced into my marriage but it is still binding in the eyes of God. If I won't sin in order to be free of him, what makes you think I would thank you for imperilling your soul?" Cynric opened his mouth but she raised her hand again and continued. "I will not have her punished, not even dismissed. I could walk a long way before I met anyone so loyal to me, who knew me half so well. Please Cynric. Let her be."

She turned to the older woman and spoke with affection as well as exasperation.

"No more Wulfhild, promise me. I want you to apologise to Cynric as well."

Wulfhild nodded her agreement and then offered Cynric a sullen apology, her arms still folded. He dismissed her and then threw the wine down the latrine with more force than was needful. The beakers and wooden jug went onto the fire.

"I hope you know what you're doing. If she makes another attempt on my life and fails, I shall kill you in cold blood for not having her charged with murder."

"I have known her almost all my life. She was closer to me than my mother and especially so since mother died. Her motivation was love, not hate and I believe that you are perfectly safe now."

"But it does not follow that you are also perfectly safe, Alais." Cynric pulled her towards him and kissed her, the hard ridges of his swordbelt pressing into her stomach. Without thinking, Alais reached down and unfastened the belt before moving to place it on his coffer. "So you are eager?" He said, raising an eyebrow suggestively. "I did not dissuade you completely last night? I must be losing my touch." Gently, Cynric pushed her away from him. He returned to his chair and sat there, beckoning her over. When she was about a yard away he motioned her to stop.

"Take off your wimple and free your hair. I want to see it." Alais complied, embarrassed by his scrutiny. Cynric leapt to his feet and rang the bell again and Wulfhild appeared once more, looking sheepish. "Find me a large looking glass. There must be one here somewhere." He closed the door in her face.

Cynric returned to Alais and stood behind her, running his hands through her waist length, dark red curls. He fetched the brush she had used earlier and started brushing it. "I love your hair, it is absolutely glorious." He planted kisses on her neck as he worked. "Unlace your gown for me, show me your breasts." Alais did so, lifting them free of the confining gown and her undershift. "Now touch them as I did last night, explore them and see how you can make them respond." Alais did so, caressing her breasts and rolling the nipples between finger and thumb. She pinched and squeezed, testing her reactions and warmth started spreading from her loins. She felt her sex starting to moisten already, in preparation for what was to come.

A knock at the door heralded Wulfhild and Cynric propelled Alais into the bedchamber before he went back through the sitting room and opened the door.

"This belonged to Alais's mother." Wulfhild said, huffing under the weight of a large, oval looking glass. Cynric took it from her and she left. The mirror was placed on a coffer at the foot of the bed. Cynric went to Alais and helped her to remove all her clothes until she was naked before him. He motioned her to get onto the bed and then had her kneel before the mirror.

He spoke to her as he removed his own clothes.

"This is your body, it is the key to all the pleasure that you will ever experience in your entire life. Look at it, touch it, examine and explore it. Find the places I touched you, the ones that made you climax. Look at yourself Alais. Do you see how radiantly beautiful you are?




Alais's Settlement Ch. 02



Alais took in her slim figure, rounded breasts and newly smooth mound. She saw her long, thick curls and her dark green eyes, the circlet of gold about her neck and she saw the hungry, wanton edge to her expression. She knew Cynric was going to make love to her again and she wanted it this time. Alais let her hands wander, gliding over her body. She touched her nipples again, thrilling at how they hardened and responded. She touched herself at the apex of her thighs, where she had always been told never to touch except with a cloth when washing. Fascinated, Alais leaned back onto one arm and traced her sexlips with her free hand, parting the soft pink folds and inspecting what lay there for the first time. The very idea that a babe could exit such a tiny, delicate, fragile looking channel seemed absurd. She slipped a finger into herself experimentally, marvelling at how sensitive she was inside. Alais remembered the place where Cynric had rubbed her to get her hot and began pressing and rubbing the little grain of flesh at the top of her sexlips. She began to shudder, but did not stop.

Cynric appeared behind her, naked now. He lifted her back into a kneeling position and watched as she touched herself.

"Go on Alais, make yourself climax for me. I want to see you take your pleasure into your own hands." His own hands reached around to gently cup and stroke her breasts. He kissed and nibbled her neck and shoulders, watching her hips move slightly in time to her rubbing fingers.

Alais moaned, rubbing harder and faster, scooping hot juice from her slick channel and coating her clitoris with it. Cynric kept his touches light and gentle, waiting for her to start taking control of her pleasure. It wasn't long.

"Touch them harder... pinch them... squeeze my breasts... please Cynric."

He obeyed, watching as she moaned and arched, bucking slightly. When she was almost ready to orgasm he pulled her back so she was lying across the bed. Cynric straddled her, his face almost touching her own, her questing hand trapped between her sex and his hardening member.

"Keep going. I want you to look at me as you reach the point of crisis. Call me 'Lord' as you reach your peak." His expression was hard and brooked no disagreement and Alais was in no mood to gainsay him. She moved her fingers faster over herself, easing the pressure off a little as she became too sensitive to enjoy it. As it was obvious that she was falling from her precipice, Cynric closed his hand around her throat, cutting off her breathing. Alais stared up at him, terrified. Within a few moments she was there, arching and thrashing beneath him as she slipped two fingers inside herself in order to explore her climax from within her body.

"My Lord!" She gasped, the words a strangled cry as he released his hold. The climax had been stronger than either of the two she had experienced the day before. Alais lay there, light headed and overwhelmed, her chest rising and falling against his weight.

Cynric smiled and lifted himself off of her. He lay down on the bed and drew her beside him, where they kissed and embraced for a while. Cynric then took one of her hands and placed it upon his swollen cock.

"Take a good look Alais, explore it. The male sex organ is unequivocal proof of God's sense of humour. It's always either too hot or too cold, it serves as a ringed target for angry members of the opposite sex and it is without question the strangest idea when it comes to efficient procreation."

Alais stroked it, aping Cynric's own movements of yester eve. It was at once hard and velvet soft, threatening and yet so exposed and vulnerable. She explored the fold of skin around it and moved it to reveal the purple head. She also touched and cupped his testicles, curious to feel the smaller sacks inside the larger one. Cynric lay back and twisted a hand in Alais's hair, pulling her lips gently but insistently towards his engorged manhood. A pearl of fluid leaked from the aperture at the tip and Alais licked it up experimentally. It tasted slightly salty but not unpleasant.

"Be careful little wife, or you'll plant a babe in your stomach and not your womb." Cynric watched as her wide eyes looked up at him, shocked and just a little worried that he might be serious. He found her fear and innocence exquisite, it was likely to corrupt him beyond all measure; the trust that this little one would be forced to place in his hands. "Calm yourself, I am jesting with you... truly it would be impossible. Your womb produces the counterpart to my seed, your stomach does not." He watched her expression soften and she lowered her head to his cock again.

He sighed happily as she tentatively explored him with her mouth, testing how far she could take him with comfort and learning to suck on him without grazing her teeth over his sensitive flesh. He allowed her a few minutes of this, feeling her moving up and down him slowly and stroking his balls with one hand. Cynric was pleased that she wanted to give him pleasure after her swift initiation into marriage the day before. Soon enough she would start to denounce the match and defy him when he made decisions that she did not like. For now, Alais was learning the duties of a wife and she would learn them far more thoroughly than she could ever conceive of at this moment. When he felt the sap start to rise in his loins, he took her by the hair and lifted her face before drawing her up along his body. 

Cynric rolled a hard nipple in his teeth and bit on it then he gripped her hips and forced her down until her wet sex sheathed him. He watched her gasp and arch as her body accepted his intrusion. He saw her brace herself for the first of his thrusts but Cynric did nothing more than lie beneath her. He reached out to a coffer beside the bed and pulled from it a length of rope. It was softly plaited, so as not to chafe on her skin. Cynric sat up, still inside her and looped the rope through the circlet at her neck as his new wife watched curiously. He pulled one end down and tied it around her wrist and then repeated the process with the other wrist so that her arms were drawn up against her back, pushing her lovely little tits out. 

He fell back against the bed and admired the spectacle before him. Her long red curls were tousled and framed a flawless, porcelain face. Alais's lips were slightly parted and her dark green eyes shone with lust fuelled apprehension. Her pert, youthful tits crowned her slender ribcage, pushed skywards by her current posture and her nipples were hard and aroused, dancing in the cool air as her short, shallow breaths came and went. Below her taut, flat belly were the spread folds of her sex lips that exposed her glistening clit as she sat astride his swollen cock, impaled upon it until he was done with her. She was exquisite.

Cynric cupped the supple orbs of her backside and lifted her hips until only the head of his cock was inside her. Then his thumbs curled over her hips and forced her down until she yelped as he hit the end of her channel. He felt her walls flex on him and his cock twitched in reply. Cynric held her in place and ground himself up into her, circling his hips and grinding his groin against her little clit until she squirmed. Her eyes were a mute protest but he elected not to heed it.

"Take your pleasure Alais. Ride me thus and learn the strokes that will put fire in your loins." 

Alais looked down at him, feeling ridiculously displayed, like a bowl of exotic fruit. She started obeying, lifting and dropping her hips in a steady rhythm, enjoying the feel of him inside her. Her bound hands made it harder work and her hips squeezed his as she rode him, striving to keep her balance and set a pace that would service them both. He watched her awkward movements and her uncertainty but let her persevere, rubbing a thumb over her clit every so often by way of encouragement. It was amusing to watch her frustration as she sought her pleasure but found her skill lacking. After a few minutes of lifting and dropping her hips, Alais started rocking her hips back and forwards, which allowed her to ride him faster and also to press her clit against his flesh. Cynric watched her breasts bounce and sway as her expression became one of fierce concentration. Before too long, she was beginning to tire but he could sense the urgency in her movements and the tightness on his cock that heralded an orgasm.

"Are you almost there, little wife?" He asked and she nodded in reply. Cynric gripped her hips and lifted them slightly before battering up into her with a ferocious pace, gritting his teeth and growling up at her as her cry of shock descended into a low throaty groan and her lithe body bucked and arched on top of him as she came.

"You had better not forget what you must say to me." He growled, his eyes now menacing as he pounded mercilessly through her climax.

"Lord!" She yelped belatedly, unwilling to anger him. "Thankyou... my Lord." Cynric smiled and eased his pace, letting her subside gradually. He pulled her down and held her in place while he took a deep, passionate kiss. Then he helped her to rise from him and placed her on her knees. Alais's legs were spread wide and her face and shoulder supported her upper body in lieu of her bound wrists. Cynric pulled her hair and instructed her to arch her back, enjoying the whimper that she gave as she complied. He leaned over her and spoke low into her ear, his swollen, angry cock pressed against her dripping sex.

"I think you were a little late with calling me 'Lord' Alais. I must confess that I was disappointed." His hand stroked the tightly curled swell of her little bottom, squeezing and groping. He raised it and brought down two hard slaps to each cheek, ignoring her cries of shock and pain. The redness blossomed across her pale skin beautifully and it was all Cynric could do to keep from sinking his teeth into her hot, trembling flesh. He settled for leaning forwards and nibbling her earlobe as he spoke. 

"You are mine. Mine like this bed and this keep, a spoil of war. You will learn to serve me as a wife in whatever capacity I deem appropriate and any failure on your part will result in chastisement." He ran his hand from her ass to her slick pussy and pressed a finger in. She gasped quietly, her whole body tensed and quivering.

"You are still excited Alais. Your body has not dried up and your desire for me has not disappeared... has it? Do you still want me to take you, as I had planned to?"

Alais was mortified and she tried to close her legs but his weight over her made it impossible. Cynric slapped her thighs until she opened them again and ran his cockhead along her slit as it traitorously dripped molten honey. She spoke anyway, well aware of the ridiculousness of her current position.

"I do not want to be tied up and reprimanded like an errant child. You are supposed to afford me respect as your duchess and the one who will be mother to your children. How can I bear a babe begotten of such depraved debauchery as this? I am resigned to my station as your wife but this is wrong, we should not couple thus." Alais fell silent, unable to see Cynric's expression and suddenly afraid. A few agonising moments passed. Then Cynric lifted himself from her and moved away.

"Be still! Do not move." He commanded. Alais heard him leave the bed momentarily but her face was half pressed into the coverlets and she dared not turn round. He grabbed her waist and flipped her over without warning, positioning her so that her head hung over the bed and she lay upon her bound wrists. He pushed her legs wide apart and she felt something cool and smooth against her clit, undulating against it. It was gentle and very pleasant. Cynric spoke to her as he ran the object against her slick flesh. "How do you like this, Alais?"

"It is very nice... thankyou my Lord. What are you touching me with?" He chuckled and ran the object over her a few more times, making her moan as her clit was stimulated with exquisite ripples of sensation. The object was removed.

"All in good time. What about this one?" Alais yelped and forced herself to be still as a cold, sharp blade pressed against her sexlips. It was not quite hard enough to cut her but Cynric was applying more than enough pressure to immobilise her. His face loomed over the bed and hovered above hers menacingly.

"So you are resigned to being my wife? How very gracious of you. Let me inform you however that being my wife involves satisfying me so that I don't go seeking excitement elsewhere. This is my bed now and if I want you to play the harlot in it then that is exactly what you shall do." He lifted his free hand to reveal her rosary beads, the item he had rubbed against her clit. Alais gasped, scandalised as Cynric placed them around her neck.

"Fear these if you must but you would be well advised to fear me more." He removed his knife from her sexlips and ran it up along her body, over one nipple and then held it against her exposed throat.

"I require total obedience Alais, which is exactly what you swore to me before your God just yesterday. Trust and freedom come later, much later. You will not question a single command I give you or I will punish you because that way, you will learn very fast and my time is valuable. I could hold you down, rut for five minutes like a dutiful husband and then seek whores for more interesting liaisons but for some reason, I'm willing to teach you how I may be pleased. Get yourself shriven in the morning if you must but do not presume to dictate to me how I may take my marital rights. Do you understand me?" He lifted the blade slightly, so that Alais felt able to speak.

"I understand." She replied. What other option did she have?

Cynric eased her back onto the bed and unbound her wrists. He rolled his wife onto her back and pushed her legs open. She had become slightly dry through fear but he cared not, it would serve his purpose well. He rested his weight on one elbow and shoved himself into her, letting his hips fall heavily and clumsily against her own. Cynric then started thrusting with a steady, monotonous rhythm, angling his thrusts to avoid stimulating her clit while she lay there, silent and still. The slow, boring pace was unable to give her any pleasure and if it had not been for the knowledge of the lesson he was teaching her, it would have done almost nothing for Cynric. He was heavy handed, groping her tits perfunctorily and pounding her into the mattress with all the finesse of a hammer and anvil. After a short while, he grunted and loosed his seed into her, ramming his cock home until she gasped. He let his weight fall onto her, his sweaty, heavy body pinning her down. Then his voice spoke low into her ear.

"That is it, Alais. That is mating as recommended by the church, for the purpose of procreation only and in the position deemed to be approved by God. If you are certain that you want 30 years of it, I will happily seek my sinful pleasures elsewhere."

With that, he turned from her and swiftly went to sleep, leaving her to stew in her conflicting thoughts.



Alais's Settlement Ch. 03



The following day arrived bright and clear with a cool breeze that sharpened the senses. Alais rose once more to discover that she was alone and she attended to her toilette hastily, glad of having her own things in the room. Today was when those who had fallen in the battle would be buried and Father Almaric would be grateful for her assistance. She went down to the small chapel within the castle to find men hard at work digging the graveplots required, as well as some of Cynric's own men, and Jack Marshall.

It was clear that the grave he was working on was intended for his father. He had chosen a prime spot in the shade of a yew and was working diligently, his shirt and tunic discarded on the soft grass. Alais watched his strong, lean muscles slide underneath his golden brown, sweat dewed torso. He was whipcord thin but with the sinewy strength that came with young manhood. His muscles were clearly defined and his chest bore the merest smattering of golden fuzz that tapered down into his loosely tied braies most distractingly. She wondered how it would feel to lie with a man as young and sweet as herself. Though Cynric was in the prime of his years and more than a match for her, he was cynical, aggressive, controlling and he mocked her youth and inexperience. She wondered if Jack had already lain with many women. Most young men felt that they were entitled to a few years of sport before they settled upon a marriage mate. Jack could not be past his 18th or 19th year and yet the freedom afforded to men and the nature of their competitiveness and lewd jesting meant that he was probably far more worldy-wise than she was. He felt her eyes upon him and raised his head before putting his spade down and standing somewhat to attention in the presence of his betters. Alais flushed, embarrassed, before hastily gathering her scattered wits. Once again she reminded herself that she was his duchess and however unwillingly, a married woman.

"Good morrow Jack, I am sorry that such menial tasks are falling to trained men like yourself." Jack was a knight now and by rights he should be exercising his horse or practising swordplay with a couple of young squires to run his errands for him. That he seemed equally content with such a task as grave digging elevated her respect for him considerably.

"Good morrow lady. In truth I do not mind. It keeps me from mischief and I will not be first in line to stand shoulder to shoulder with Cynric's hired heathens. My horse is lame and I do not like to sit idle." Alais smiled despite herself, surprised and pleased that he would speak so freely with her. She kept her eyes downcast though, or else they would be all over his exposed flesh and any pretence of propriety would be lost.

He was so like his father. John Marshall had possessed the same easy grace and plain manner of speaking. John had been loyal to a fault but if he disagreed with his orders he would say so and usually his reasoning was sound. 

"That is very diplomatic of you. Cynric appears to be here for the foreseeable however and I will need men like you when Henry sends knights and men to challenge him. If you really feel that you cannot stay... I am sure you could be released from your pledge."

Naturally, she knew without question that he wasn't a deserter, she simply wanted to hear him say once more that he would serve her till death. She knew exactly where she stood with Jack and it was dangerously seductive.

"Lady..." Jack climbed out of the grave and moved closer to her. Alais' heart thundered in her breast and she felt sure that he must hear it. She could smell him, the manly tang of sweat, soil, ale and horses. She fought the impulse to step away, as he appeared to want to confide in her. He looked around furtively and then bent to speak low in her ear. "It does not have to be this way... if it is you who should desire release. As you say... I have been trained and not just to swing a sword like a cudgel. I could free you lady and it would be quick, clean and untraceable." He lifted his eyes to meet her own and she trembled, not with horror at his suggestion but naked desire for him. He interpreted the former however and stepped away, chagrined. 

"I am sorry, it was not my intention to upset you thus." He raised his hands apologetically and returned to his task. "I ask you only to consider things as a pragmatic ruler must. I will do nothing without your command." Alais nodded curtly and turned away, unable to utter a single word in this exquisite young man's presence.

As she walked away, Alais realised that Cynric's coupling with her had awakened a part of her nature that had been entirely dormant. She had never responded in such a way to a young man before. She had a new knowledge and maturity now and she was not sure she could bear it when it came to Jack Marshall. Her loins throbbed and she knew that once alone in her chamber, she would be touching herself and imagining that warm brown skin pressed against her soft, pale curves.

Later that afternoon, she stood beside her husband as prayers were said for the fallen and those worthy of a burial plot were interred. By necessity, some were to be cremated today and a huge communal funeral pyre had been built in the grounds. She watched Jack from beneath her lashes as he said a few brief words about his father and then left the ceremony to bury him properly. Some would not be properly interred until the morning and it was not unheard of for foxes and other animals to interfere with partially filled graves, let alone those desperate and unscrupulous enough to seek valuables among the corpses.

Alais' attraction to Jack was causing her to start resenting Cynric and later in the evening, when he suggested that they retired, she sighed with resignation as she rose to walk with him from the great hall.

"You are not in good spirits my dear, what is troubling you?" He asked as they walked. Loathe to anger him, Alais offered a semi-fabricated explanation.

"It was just seeing so many shrouds and coffins today, Lord. All those families bereaved and such a high price for your victory." She replied. Cynric bristled indignantly.

"I did not bid them all take up arms. There were servants and stable boys fighting alongside the men at arms and any fool could have predicted the outcome. If they had accepted they were heavily outnumbered and surrendered the keep, my establishment here could have been achieved entirely without bloodshed."

Alais, who had been in the dungeons throughout the battle and could not say what had occurred or why, held her tongue. She knew Cynric was likely to want to take her again and she could not evict Jack and his naked torso from her thoughts. She was entirely disquieted and would have been content simply to retire to bed and sleep.

Her Lord and husband however, had other ideas. No sooner had they shut the door of their chamber than his hands were upon her, pulling at her wimple and the lacings of her gown. She tried to forestall him but he batted her hands away, attacking her fiercely until she was naked. He lifted the golden circlet at her neck with one finger and kissed her lips, jaw and earlobe as he backed her against a wall and spoke to her in low, throaty tones.

"This was a good choice beloved. The necklace is concealed beneath your wimple and so nobody knows it is there but you. Does it make you feel your connection to me more keenly, does the warm metal against your flesh remind you of the times we spend alone together here?" He ran a hand over her breasts and pushed two fingers into her moist pussy. In truth it had moistened before, when she was thinking about Jack but Cynric reaped the benefit as he explored her. With his free hand he lifted her arms, taking her wrists in one fist and pinning them to the wall with no more force than was needful to convey that he wanted her to stay in place. He removed his fingers from her pussy and licked them, before spinning her and pinning her facing the wall. He took a length of rope from his pocket and secured her wrists behind her, then he turned her to face him and pushed her unceremoniously to her knees at his feet. He grinned down at her lasciviously as he opened his braies and freed his straining cock.

"You haven't answered my question, little wife." Cynric's grin became hard edged and cruel and Alais answered him swiftly, through fear.

"Yes, it does, of course it does, how could it not my Lord?" She said. He accepted her compliance and placed the tip of his cock against her bottom lip.

"Put out your tongue for me and keep it out... that's it... now take a deep breath and hold it." Cynric angled his swollen cock down and forced it into her throat while she gagged and protested. Alais had her wrists bound and the back of her head against the wall so she was completely at his mercy. He forced himself in until his balls rested on her chin and then held himself there, groaning with pleasure. The spasms of her little virgin throat just under the head of his dick were nothing short of exquisite.

"Touch yourself, fire yourself up for me and keep your wretched tongue out!" He slapped her face a couple of times, then withdrew so that she could take a few breaths. Cynric watched her fingers working on her damp sex and then bade her stick her tongue out once more while he ploughed into her throat again. This time, he thrust in and out, feeling the satisfying 'pop' as he entered and exited it. He waited until she was red faced and her eyes were rolling before he withdrew and she slumped and panted against the wall. Cynric slapped his cock heavily against her face until she came around, then he gave her a moment to breathe deeply before he started again.

"You will become used to this Alais, it takes a period of adjustment." He informed her in hoarse grunts as he fucked her throat. The second time she threatened to pass out he lifted her and put her on the bed. Cynric bent her legs back and secured her ankles to her bound wrists, leaving her spread wide open before him. Her tight little rosebud asshole winked up at him but he ignored the urge to violate it. Instead, he kept her feet either side of her head and rammed his whole length into her defenceless pussy while she spluttered and became properly lucid once more. He slapped her face again and forced her to look at him. Cynric sawed in and out of her, while glaring down into her eyes and tormenting her clit with his fingers. In a very short time, Alais came and it was all the stronger for her almost total immobility. She screamed the word 'Lord' and Cynric let her milk his cock until he was ready to climax. He slammed it deep enough to make her cry out once more as he loosed his boiling seed into her and was finally satisfied.

Alais cleaned off his cock when he put it to her lips and then Cynric released her from her bonds and divested himself of the rest of his clothes before drawing the covers over them both. He kissed her tenderly but there was not the slightest shred of guilt or remorse for how he had treated her.

"I needed that Alais. You will learn these arts in time, although they are difficult for you now. You did very well." He said condescendingly. Alais lay there, too sore and exhausted to protest until sleep finally claimed her.

Her dreams were filled with Jack. He kissed and embraced her, offered to protect her and never hurt her and he made gentle love to her that made her feel safe, secure and truly loved.



Alais's Settlement



Eventually, the door to the bedchamber was flung open and a slightly inebriated Cynric marched in. He shut the door on the jeering men behind him and approached the bed slowly. 

"So, how fares my lady wife?" He asked sarcastically, staring lasciviously at her slim, pale curves, bound and exposed upon the bed. Alais simply glared at him. Cynric moved about the room and extinguished most of the candles before stripping down to his shirt and braies. He got onto the bed and closed the hangings about them before crawling up along Alais's body. He lay beside her and turned her face towards his own. "Listen to me. You are mine now. I have married you in the eyes of the church and the law and by the morrow you will have been consummated. Nobody is going to race to your rescue, they're all warring amongst themselves. You need to accept these facts, Alais. You need to accept me. If I have to beat and starve you into it, believe me I will but it does not have to be this way. Do you understand?"

Alais nodded but made no other move. She was so tired and hungry and had been scared for so long that the edge of her fear had been eroded and softened. She was a long way past the point of caring what happened to her.

"Then would you afford your new husband the great boon, of a kiss?" Cynric asked. He did not move to kiss her, he very deliberately waited for her to move towards him. After a few moments of deliberation, Alais leaned forward against her bonds and kissed him gently upon the lips. Cynric turned towards her and pulled her closer, gently moulding his mouth to hers until he persuaded her lips to part for him. The kiss became hungrier as Cynric took command of it, probing and tasting her mouth with restrained forcefulness. After a little reluctance, Alais's tongue moved against his own and she explored her first lovers kiss.

Cynric reluctantly pulled away and looked down between them at the bulge forming in his braies. He had not experienced anything as sweet and intoxicating as that kiss in a very long time and he felt like an over-eager young whelp again as he exited the bed and closed the hangings upon Alais, concealing her completely. Cynric left the room and she heard him bounce down the stairs exuberantly.

Within a short while, the door opened once more and she heard the bustle of many people as they entered and left. By the time Cynric joined her on the bed again, she was wild with curiosity. He unbound her wrists and rubbed feeling back into them, then drew her from the bed and into the room. A cheerful fire burned in the grate and a tray of food was keeping warm on the hearth. A jug of wine sat upon a table with a beaker beside it and a bath full of hot water had been brought up along with towels and shaving equipment.

"You see what your kiss has earned you Alais?" Cynric gestured for her to sit at the table, placed the tray before her and poured her some wine. Alais was more than a little uncomfortable with sitting there naked but could nothing for her to wear. Cynric then also stripped naked and she could see his flaccid and hairy manhood swinging between his legs as he moved. He was the first naked adult male she had ever seen. Cynric turned the bathtub so it faced her and then got into it and started scrubbing the battlegrime from his body. "We must become accustomed to each other Alais. My body will become as familiar to you as your own. Now I know you have years of Catholic teachings hammered into your skull but there is no shame in nudity, nor is there shame in enjoying the carnal act. I want no reticence or guilt from you. You are properly married and you will do your duty by me in more than a perfunctory manner." Cynric grabbed the razor and shaved his face.

Alais remained quiet, at a total loss as to what she could say. She turned her attention back to the food and ate ravenously. She also drank quite a bit of the wine, mustering her courage for what was inevitably to follow. Cynric bade her come and scrub his back and Alais complied, approaching him warily and then flushing at his proximity as she washed him. Once he was done, he stood and had her hand him a towel, his penis was growing again and Alais was transfixed by it. Cynric then invited her to use the water and Alais climbed in, enjoying the warmth. Cynric helped her to wash and then wrapped her in a towel, taking the opportunity to embrace her.

"Lie down for me Alais." He murmured, indicating that she should lie upon the floor. She obeyed, slightly bemused. Was he going to copulate with her here? Cynric pushed her legs open and knelt between them, admiring the neat folds of her sex and their thatch of flame coloured hair. She watched with apprehension as he pressed his fingers against her, stroking over her sex and probing slightly within it. His touch was light and he moved up to a little nub of flesh about where her urine came from. It hardened slightly and caused strange sensations to move through her as he touched it. Fluid started to seep from her body and at first Alais was embarrassed, until she saw how enraptured Cynric was. When she was slippery and swollen down there, he pressed a finger into her and felt about.

"I knew you were still virgin but these things must be confirmed." He said, withdrawing the offending digit and licking it clean of her juice. He spread her legs wider and reached between his own, stroking his engorged manhood as though it were a small animal. Then, without warning, Cynric reached for the soap and razor and started shearing away Alais's pubic hair. She stared up at him, shocked and confused.

"It's just a personal preference. In time you will learn to shave yourself thus for me."

He worked silently and with great care but at the same time, his fingers would deliberately glide over the sensitive parts of her sex and extract muted sighs from Alais as she fought to remain still. She was highly embarrassed at such a close inspection of her womanhood, the whole ritual seemed bizarre. Cynric watched, amused, as she battled with her gradually mounting arousal. 

"Be still Alais. You must indeed bleed a little this night but I fully intend for it to be from other means." He said, enjoying the fear that clouded the surprise and pleasure that had been painting her expressions.

He spoke softly all the while and told her the anatomical names of her private parts, something her bashful father and the elderly priest had omitted to explain. Alais had a little knowledge of how intercourse was performed, although she was never sure when people were jesting with her. Her ladies had hinted at these things and their salacious gossip had filled in other gaps. Since her father had died, they had been even more forthcoming on the inner machinations of marriage, as it was assumed that King Henry would want her safely wedded. It was unusual for a girl of her years to be both unwed and unbetrothed. Alais had more than a suspicion that her father had simply refused to admit her growing maturity, wrongly assuming that there was time enough for these things.

When the last wisp of hair had been removed from her sex, Cynric laid down his razor and Alais breathed a deep sigh of relief. He lifted her in his arms as though she weighed naught and placed her upon the bed once more.

"There, now we are both cleansed and civilized. I wanted your wedding night to be thus, I make no promises for the future however." He fetched the wine and held it to her lips, encouraging her to drink. "Don't worry so. I've no wish to take you while you're in your cups but a little wine will help to minimise your discomfort. It is always thus, the first time."

Cynric returned the beaker to the table and then moved to his pile of clothes and searched within them. He returned with a gold circlet, finely worked to look like a plaited rope. He twisted it open and then placed it about her neck.

"My wedding gift to you, though you need no adornments." He said, with a flourish. Alais looked from the circlet about her neck to the emerald set ring he had removed from one of his little fingers and given to her as they said their vows. She really was married and he really was going to impregnate her. Then, to her surprise, Cynric took her wrists and bound them once more to the headboard. She stared up at him, wide eyed and confused. He wrapped her long red tresses around his fist and pulled her head back sharply. Cynric then leaned down and spoke low into her ear, his swollen, pulsing penis resting against her skin.

"You will learn to trust me Alais. You will learn to trust me with your life, your love and your lands. I may be ambitious and determined but I'm not a witless ogre. If I had wanted to rape you and plant a bastard in your womb, I would have done so and I would have enjoyed your defilement immensely. You are my wife, so much more than a passing amusement. I need you and I so will not damage you... beyond repair. Now relax my love, all that is to transpire this night will be pleasurable to you and afterwards, you will thank me for it. If I hurt you and there is no pleasure, you may call me 'Cynric' and I will stop. At all other times now and for the future, you will address me as 'Lord.' It is fitting for your youth and my new station." She felt him smile triumphantly against her cheek.

He kissed his way along her jaw, over her throat and down to her breasts. He looked up at her again, his tanned face and dark curls hovering threateningly over her quivering, white fleshed orbs with their delicate, rose petal nipples. 

"Women know so little of their own bodies. You have seen women suckling babes?" Alais nodded. "Well to suckle a babe is painful so to mitigate that pain, there is a great capacity for pleasure." He kissed and suckled her breasts, gentle at first and then more passionately. Alais heard a strained moan leave her throat as her back arched slightly with the intensity of the sensations he was inflicting upon her. She had never imagined such sweet waves of arousal could ripple through her, gently, like a warm summer breeze upon water. She felt more fluid leak from her sex and knew it now to be evidence of her pleasure. Cynric rolled a nipple between his teeth, biting down on it. His name flew to her lips but she exhaled with a soft cry and left it unuttered as a strong pulse answered in her loins.

"Open your legs for me, little Duchess." He murmured and she did so, almost in a trance. Her head was flung back and her eyes closed. She felt a pressure between her thighs and looked up, suddenly afraid. To her surprise, Cynric had moved down her body and his face was nestled between her legs. She almost asked him what he thought he was doing but checked the impulse. "This is why I prefer you shaven." He explained. "You will soon understand why, calm yourself girl."

Alais watched, incredulous, as his tongue snaked out from between his lips and licked along the outside of her sex. He licked and kissed his way around her sexlips and then worked inwards, tasting her leaked fluid and sending tremors ricocheting through her body. He flickered his tongue over her clitoris and then sucked it, drawing it into his mouth. Alais was lost. She moaned and writhed, so much so that he grabbed her hips and held her in place as he worked. His movements became more earnest, kissing, sucking and licking her inside out. Occasionally, he even pressed his teeth to her clitoris and growled with satisfaction as her hips bucked and shuddered. Alais could feel pressure mounting within her and started to panic, feeling that she might become overwhelmed and have to beg him to stop. Sensing a change in her, Cynric gripped her buttocks and lifted her up to his face, lashing his tongue over her furiously and sucking on her clit as though he wanted to pull it away from her and eat it. Then he pressed down with his whole face, rubbing his teeth against her clitoris and growling into her soaking flesh.

Alais arched up with a yell and her legs wrapped around his head instinctively as her loins liquefied with white heat and wave after wave of nirvana rocked her slim body. She bucked and writhed, voiding more warm juice onto his face and it was some long moments before she was capable of thought. He lowered her bottom back onto the bed and stared at her hungrily as she regained her breath. He leaned forward over her and kissed her once more, forcing Alais to taste her arousal on his lips.

"I suppose you have lain with many women." She ventured, wondering how many casual liaisons a man of his years would have tallied.

"I had a mistress for a number of years. She was lovely and bore me a son before she died of a winter fever. He is training in warfare with a friend of mine, a handsome lad of twelve. If I can persuade King Henry to save himself a battle and accept that I am here to stay, my son will join me." Cynric fetched the wine and shared a beaker with Alais.

Old and experienced as he was, Cynric was enraptured. Her flame red curls fanned across the bed, darkened with sweat near her scalp. Her swollen nipples, lips and sex burned bright against her alabaster complexion and there was a rose coloured flush across her cheeks and throat. Alais gazed up at him in exhausted wonder and her dark green eyes flashed with a new knowledge and maturity. She was stunning and she was his possession as the gold at her throat reminded him, as in turn it would remind her every day. He reached down and stroked himself absently, his cock was so hard that it pained him.

He moved forwards and straddled her chest, bringing his penis up to her lips. "Now you may thank me." He said. Alais opened her mouth uncertainly and Cynric cautioned her to cover her teeth with her lips. He pressed into that warm, wet mouth and sighed with pleasure. She learned swiftly, sucked him well and he sawed his organ in and out of her, being careful not to become too aroused. After a time, Cynric gripped the headboard and pressed Alais's head back against it, trapping her there. He forced as much of his member as she could take without choking, in and out of her, ensuring that she breathed between strokes. There was time enough to teach her how to swallow his entire length and hold her breath for longer than a drowning witch. When he had had enough, he abruptly withdrew.

He slid down her body and pressed his fingers against the apex of her thighs, feeling for the wetness there. He unbound her wrists once more and drew her to him, spreading her legs wide beneath him and pressing his straining penis against her slippery core. Her arms wound about him and Cynric leaned down to claim a deep kiss as he pressed himself into her, feeling her shudder and gasp as he took her maidenhead, the warm rush of blood against his cock and then finally, the end of her channel as his balls fell softly against her. Cynric paused as he felt her contract around him, then thrust slowly, almost pulling out before pressing in again. He angled his thrusts downwards, rubbing against her clitoris and hopefully pressing against the sweet spot up inside her. Alais gazed up at him, overwhelmed but moving with him, her pleasure mounting again as her wetness and heat increased.

"So this is the act of love Alais, how do you like it?" He asked.

"It is not as bad as I had imagined." She replied flippantly. Cynric got into his rhythm and began to take her more forcefully, pushing her legs further apart and making her more flustered.

"How bad did you imagine it could be I wonder?" Cynric gave a few more thrusts and then withdrew. He grabbed Alais around the waist and flipped her over, pulling her up onto her hands and knees. He then entered her from behind and began pounding her into her body with speed and force. He twisted his fist in her hair and pulled her head back and when she looked upon him, he was menacing and feral. "This is how animals rut with each other Alais, because it goes in deeper." He skewered her on a particularly savage thrust and ignored her when she cried out. Cynric lifted her by the hair and tipped them back until she was sat upon his spread thighs, he bucked up into her as gravity forced her down on his cock until it hurt her and set a savage pace. He kept her head tipped back, her body tightly arched and sank his teeth into her neck as he fucked her. His free hand snaked around to her clitoris as she moaned his name, hoping for respite.

"I have been very good to you tonight Alais. I could have had you like this from the start, held you down, ripped into your body without warning and savoured every last one of your tears. No pleasurable touches, no preparation. In the eyes of your church, you are my possession and to treat you thus is not even a sin." His fingers moved faster over the slippery bead of flesh and he pinched it for good measure. Alais moaned again and he threw her forwards, onto all fours once more. He kicked her legs apart with his knees and slammed into her as hard and as fast as his powerfully built physique would allow him, holding her in place by her hair. 

"Stop! Cynric please stop! You said that you would not hurt me and I have let you do as you will... please!" Alais looked around at Cynric but there was not a trace of mercy in his expression.

"You will fear me Alais and you will be obedient to me at all times or I will hurt you... very much... there are many, many ways in which I can do this. You will respect me and you will never betray me or I will be forced to reprimand you and believe me, it will not be swift or pleasant." He pressed her clitoris again with his other hand and rubbed and pinched it rapidly until Alais screamed and bucked back against him, her whole body shuddering as another orgasm ripped through her, much more forcefully than the first. He continued to fuck her, paying her climax no heed and seeking his own. Within a few more moments he was there and he grabbed her hips and yanked them back as he arrowed his seed into her, grinding himself into her and pressing his weight onto her back. Alais's knees gave way and she collapsed under him, sobbing quietly through shock and fear.

"Did I not say there would be pleasure? Tell me little wife, which 'petit mort' was the strongest for you, the first or the last? There is no true pleasure without pain, as my battered member will attest to." Cynric lifted himself from her back and turned her over. He straddled her chest once more and pressed his deflating member to her lips. "Clean it for me." He commanded. She did so, grimacing at the warm, viscous texture of their mingled effluvia, edged with the metallic taste of her own blood.

Cynric fetched the bedclothes from the floor and drew her into his arms, kissing her forehead and becoming tender once more.

"There, you have survived your first night of marriage. I will ask no more of you until the morrow. You did well, better than I expected." Cynric squeezed her once more and then turned away to sleep with his back to her. Alais lay quietly and tried to ignore the soreness webbing her body and pulsing between her slick thighs. Cynric's seed oozed from her like pus from a wound and she wondered if it would make her pregnant.