0 comments/ 10116 views/ 0 favorites Mask & Veil Ch. 01 By: Sethleham Chapter 1: The Red Fever Mask & Veil Ch. 01 There was no room in anyone's tent or wagon, so Keira agreed that he could sleep in hers. Lying beside him that night, as he slept and dreamed about something that upset him - something that made him cry out sometimes during the night - Keira watched him and checked his brow for that horrible heat. That night, however, Touran was free from the hell of it. Mask & Veil Ch. 02 Chapter Two: Geneveve Piqoud Is Taken The red dress her mother gave her, flowed and shone, catching the light in a way that made her gleam. This was not a happy moment for her, exactly, as her father, Lord Piqoud, was having her married to Lord Ghamboles - a union that she didn't like at all. But to be in this dress, tonight on her 18 birthday, put her in touch with her mother, long since dead. Geneveve at once felt both beautiful and loved while she wore this dress. It was only dampened a little by the touch of what she considered mad reasoning. Her birthday ball was one of the biggest events of her life, next to her marriage, so it was done with a lot of pomp. She was lead into the ball room by a Lady escort and introduced properly. Then each unmarried nobleman would take turns dancing with her as troubadours played their instruments. The night became a little tiring, but she was able to summon enough fortitude to last the night. It was at the end of the night that Lord Ghamboles took her arm. He was a tall, bulky man with a thick black beard and a pencil thin mustache. Dressed in noble gowns, he was here to show off more than entertain himself with her. She was sure of it. And he danced like he had two left feet. His boots kicked her ankles and his rough beard scratched her face. He belched and swung her, twisting her wrist and pulling muscles in her side. Geneveve couldn't be more happy when the music number was over and they bowed before Lord Piqoud. Stepping aside for her father, Lord Piqoud stood before and raised his hand, quieting the hall. "Welcome to my daughter's special celebration, which could only be illuminated through good news! My daughter, Lady Geneveve will be leaving us by carriage at midday, once her marriage to Lord Ghamboles has been completed at St. Anthony's cathedral. Everyone should have had an invite at their places, so come with us for this Holy Union and join in the glory of what is to come!" Lord Piqoud said. Everybody cheered, except of course, Geneveve, who longed for someone to rescue her. *** "Lord Ghamboles is not interested in peace with Lord Piqoud," Guillme Rouchette had said. "He is feigning interest to get Lord Piqoud off his trail. What he wants us to do, is abduct Piqoud's daughter before the wedding, stopping the accord yet leaving Piqoud unawares of Lord Ghamboles plot. That's where we come in..." Guillme was on a rope, climbing the wall of the castle by grappling, which he got from his pals in the village. He was thinking about his conversation with them, hoping that they'd help him do the job. Lord Ghamboles, in return, offered a good some of coins to do this, which Guillme couldn't refuse. One foot or the other, one arm reaching while the other hand braces the rope tightly. Guillme was use to such dangers and loved the challenge. Luckily, he was able to go through with it. His "pals" gave him a sleeping elixir, which he was to touch to the Lady Geneveve's mouth as soon as he was in her chamber. They said it wouldn't be long before the Lady was under the spell of the potion until sunrise. After sealing a special deal with them, Guillme collected the extra things that he needed and had waited for dark. At her window, Guillme crawled through, parting the curtains and drawing his dagger to be on the safe side. The chamber was dark and he was sure that she was sleeping before such a big day. When he was hovering over her, he poured the elixir into a rag and touched it to her lips. The beauty with the golden hair moaned into it for a moment and then went quiet. Seeing that the elixir worked, he grinned and wrapped her up in the blanket. He then wrapped the rope around her feet and looked down at two of his companions, who were waiting below for him. Then Guillme began to lower her, slowly, until his companions began to grab a hold of her. Once she was down, he began climbing down the rope as quickly as he could. His foot slipped, almost sending him off balance. Almost crying out as the rope burned his hands, he gripped hard against the pain and willed himself to remain fast. After feeling ready, he began he descent again and reached the bottom without much more difficulty. His companions had already placed the unconscious Geneveve in a wagon and covered her with straw, so Guillme climbed into the wagon and drove them back to the village. Once in the stable house of one of the hostels, he climbed down from the wagon seat and began to open the blankets. Lady Geneveve was still sleeping. "What are you going to do with her?" Marius, one of his companions, said. "I made an easy deal with the potion maker and his wife," Guillme said, chuckling. He patted the woman's body and added: "They know a farmer looking for an escate - a slave girl. For their services, I'm handing her over to them." Marius grinned. "And what if Lord Piqoud looks for her?" "He won't, because Lord Ghamboles is setting up a special surprise to ensure that doesn't happen." "What?" "I'm sure we'll all hear about it, don't worry. Meanwhile, take care of the horses and get some sleep. I've got a little more work to do..." Guillme said, turning to lift the Lady onto his shoulder. *** Nizas village in Southern France is surrounded by lush vineyards, found between Marseilles and Montpelier, and Guillme loved the place. In fact, it wasn't too far from where he grew up. Lady Geneveve was kept drugged for the fourteen day travel, which was good because he didn't want to have to deal with the bitch. Once they came to the first farmstead he asked around and found the place he was looking for: the Beauchamp farm. The owner, Gilbert-Luc Beauchamp, was waiting for him, grinning with his crooked teeth and filthy hands. Guillme jumped off the wagon, skipping the meet and greet, and uncovered the Lady, of whom was still passed out. Gilbert-Luc nodded when he saw the girl. "Perfect. She's beautiful," Gilbert-Luc said. "A ripe piece of ass, but she'll have to be tamed and trained. She's never worked in her life, after all," Guillme said. "After a couple of butt-fucks she'll learn quickly. I have no worries," Gilbert-Luc said. Guillme liked him, laughing to show his approval. "Got something to eat?" "Sure. Even got a spot of mead that'll suit you just fine." "Take the girl, then." "Don't worry about the horses. My boy will take care of them," Gilbert-Luc said, grabbing the girl and throwing her over his shoulder. His boy was already running up. He looked prime of age, almost handsome beside his father. "This is Julien-Paul," Gilbert-Luc said. "Boy! Take care of these horses and make sure they're fed. Guillme will be spending the night with us." Julien-Paul looked at the girl, smiling. "That her, Papa?" "Don't worry about it. Just do as I said, Boy!" Guillme was happy to get some food from Madame Beauchamp and one of their daughters, Audrey-Christelle, who looked just as old and almost like Julien-Paul. He motioned to her. "Is she his twin?" "Yes, Monsieur. They are both 19 of age," Madame Beauchamp said. "Pretty, isn't she, but she's no good. She likes to stumble over everything. Costs more to us than the food is worth." Guillme would take her, but she'd probably be more trouble than it's worth. Better to fuck and pay a whore than have to deal with somebody you had to take care of. No - no wifey for Guillme. "That's a shame," he said, swapping Audrey-Christelle's ass before returning to his food. Audrey-Christelle hurried away, obviously (and deliciously) afraid of him. Fear was fucking power. And he liked it. "I'm going into Nizas later, so don't bar the doors." "Yes, Monsieur," Madame Beauchamp said, looking away from him, out a window and toward her husband. Gilbert-Luc was coming out of the stable and heading toward the cottage. When he was inside, he said: "When will she come out of that sleep trance you put her in?" "I dosed her every twenty-four hours," Guillme said. "Last dose was about 16 hours ago, so I'd say in another three or four you'll be able to put her to work." "I guess I can wait that long." "Is there a hostel around here?" Guillme said. "The Pomeroi's usually keep extra rooms," Gilbert-Luc said, his wife laying a wooden cup of mead in front of him. "Mind if your boy shows me the way tomorrow?" "Not at all." "I better retire soon," Guillme said. Tomorrow would be a very busy day for him. *** Where am I? What kind of place is this? Why am I cold? Questions her mind eased into as her eyes and thoughts began to clear. She heard animals clucking, scampering and she felt naked. And the more her eyes did clear up, she began to realize that she was naked and her arms hurt because she was shackled to some wooden beam. Then she suddenly felt as though a bitter-cold wave washed over her. Somebody had dumped water on her, laughing. Humiliated and scared she shouted: "Who are you? What's going on?" A blurry figure, stinking of sweat and manure, stood in front of her, arms setting akimbo. "You're no longer a Lady," the rough-voiced man said. "You're now the property of my family and you will do as I say. You will stay in the stables and you will be chained here every night once your chores are complete. Tomorrow I will have my wife put some clothes on you, but for right now you will have to suffer." "I am the Lady Geneveve Piqoud and when my father-" She was cut off... "Your father will never know because he thinks you are dead," the man said. "I am Gilbert-Luc, but you will begin calling me Master. And every time you say a word, you better use that name or I'll swat you good! Do you understand?!" "I am the Lady Gen-" The man smacked her across the face. It burned so much that she was left in tears. This can't be happening... Geneveve curled into a fetal position and began to cry. How could this be happening to her? What did she do to deserve this? Nothing, she thought. This wasn't right. Somebody had to help her. But she didn't even know where she was. How far was she from home? Was she in North France, South France, near Paris? Or was she even in France? Geneveve cried for her father, who she wanted right now. She never thought she'd ever need him this much before. Jesus, she didn't even know how she was taken, or how long it has been since her father thought she was dead. What if he really believed she was dead? This would be her life forever. "Help me," she begged God. "Jesus, please help me..." After awhile she cuddled with a docile rabbit, who hopped near to check on her. It laid down and she felt it's warmth. It remained as though it knew that she needed him. "Thank you bunny," she said and fell asleep. *** Once his parents went to bed and his sister fell asleep, Julien-Paul crept past the stranger that slept on the floor mat in front of the fire. Once outside, he made his way to the stable with a small bowl of stew. In the stable, he placed it beside the sleeping girl that the stranger had sold to his father. She was sleeping fitfully, snuggling with a white rabbit they called Jacque. Her father had stripped her gown off her and so he could see everything. He kneeled and his eyes wandered over the contours of her hips, how they formed into her ass and thighs. Then he squinted to look at the shadowed sex, those beautiful lips he had only seen on his sister. With his cock hard from her nakedness, he pulled it out of his slacks and began to massage it, beating faster and faster, imagining her awake and wrapping her legs around him. That wonderful familiar tingle began to crawl up his balls to the tip of his cock-head, which was engorged and spurting in they hay before he knew it. Satisfied, he put his dick away and let it shrivel as he tapped on the girl's shoulder. When she stirred he put his finger to his lips, hushing her. He pointed at the food and she took it, smiling at him. Once she was done, he took the bowl and returned to the house without saying a word. Back in the room he shared with his sister, she turned over and whispered: "I saw you jerking off to that new girl." "Jesus, Audrey," he whispered back. "Was it nice to see the new girl's pussy?" she said. "Very nice, yes." She reached over and fondled his cock, making him grow erect again. "You want to fuck that new girl?" "Yes," he said, closing his eyes as his sister began to beat his hard-on. "Fuck her tight little pussy until you cum deep inside her?" "Jesus, yes," he said, feeling his balls contracting and spilling his seed onto his stomach. "I wouldn't mind watching you fuck her," she said and turned over to go to sleep. Julien-Paul sighed, relaxing in a wonderful glow and let the weariness take him to dreams that were far away from here. Mask & Veil Ch. 03 Chapter Three: Cherries Keira dreamed... You were born in Ireland, Keira - though it was foreseen that France would be your true home until you were ready to return to the Isle. In order for you to have your Bell, a cherry seed was blessed with your blood and planted near here. It is time for you to find your Bell Tree, where somebody awaits your arrival. She was walking though the woods when she heard the beautiful voice and she came across a cherry tree in bloom. The tree aroused her in a way she didn't understand, so she was drawn closer to it. Keira could smell it's bloom and felt her nipples harden and stomach flutter. When she turned away from it, she was awake, looking at Touran sleeping next to her. It had been twenty days since he had come to her and so far his wound was looking good and his spirits were rising. She smiled and reached over to touch his curvy beautiful lips. He awoke to her touch and looked at her with his blue eyes and smiled back at her. "Have I told you that I'm falling for you?" he said. "Yes." She smiled deeper; couldn't help it, really. He made her blush, made her heart beat faster and she felt so warm and safe with him. Touran DeVaughn was one of the kindness men she had ever had the pleasure of meeting. "And I'm fallen for you." Keira leaned over and kissed his wet lips and added: "I'll get us some food..." But later she was sitting beside Katalina, who was weaving a new basket for her favorite flowers. "Your dreams speak true, Child," Katalina said. "Your Bell Tree in near here." "Where?" "You must find it for yourself. It's important that you fine your own path." Keira watched as Sam, one of the other elders, taught Touran how to carve wood into animal shapes. It was something Touran actually enjoyed doing while he waited for his wound to heal completely. And it felt great that he was being more accepted by the Rom every day. "Will they take care of him while I go find it?" Keira said. "Don't worry, Child. He has no enemies here." Keira thanked the Seer and walked up to Touran who looked up at her with a gaze that made her heart melt. "I have to go for a little while. There's something I have to do. I won't be gone long," she said. "I can wait," he said. "Be careful." Keira leaned in and kissed him again. She was in love and she knew it, but she was afraid to actually tell him. Maybe she should, maybe she should soon. Mask & Veil Ch. 03 "Leave her alone, Piqoud," Touran said from behind him. Piqoud gave him a "just wait, huh?" look and then turned back to the Cherry Girl, who must have decided to stand her ground in some sort of fake show of bravado. He grinned at her and said: "Do you talk?" "Yes," she said, an Irish lilt to her words. "Ah! A foreigner, I see. Well, Cherry Girl, my question is, 'Did he tell you that once upon a time, there was a Lady that swooned over a Baron, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't quite get his attention?' Well, one day, this Lady, as her last resort, dropped to her knees and huffed his cock for almost an hour before he tired of it, but his attention gained, she--" "Piqoud! You're just trying to waste time--" But Piqoud put up a finger, continuing: "...She began to sneak away from her husband to be with him for almost a month's time, but they could not live happily ever after. Why, you ask?" "What are you talking about?" Touran said. Piqoud grinned, turning to his foe: "Why, Touran! Didn't your wife tell you?" Touran's eyes lit up. "You motherfucker!" Touran said, attacking him with punches and Piqoud couldn't stop laughing. Some how, Piqoud found himself on the ground, finding the pain dulling and breathing a little more difficult. Still chuckling, he swiped his hand through the air. "Oh, Touran! It was so long ago... I had almost forgotten it. But she was a great cocksucker!" But Touran didn't move this time. "I'm finished with you," Touran said. "The High Guards followed me as a seal to the truth of my words. You're forbidden to try me, or prosecute capital punishment on my body so long as I work for the Church. Be lucky he decided not to punish you for crimes against the village people." Piqoud laughed, saying: "Well, what can you do? The Duke's a good guy." And laughed again. He almost let snot shoot from his nose, but clapped his bloody hands to his face. Piqoud snorted and hacked, spitting blood beside him. "Good-bye," Touran said. "Wait! This isn't over, Touran!" Piqoud said, lifting himself off the ground. "This isn't over until I say it's over!" Touran almost took a step back as Piqoud walked toward him, jamming his index finger at him in the air. "If I kill you, then the Duke will have me punished? Possibly executed? That's fine! I have no worries. Death would be sweeter than this world--it'll give me a fucking peace of mind, perhaps! So, know this, you Bastard, when you least expect it, there will be a knife in your back. One of those long, curvy Turkish daggers, maybe. And my punishment would be made sweeter! It'll make my severed head, lying there in the basket, grin to know that at least I had my revenge." Touran pushed him back, away from him. "Your mad," Touran said. "But I could hand you a pardon. You could earn peace between us," Piqoud said, hoping that maybe Touran would react to this moment as his only real means of escaping him (which, let's face it, Piqoud would never allow, no matter what DeVaughn did for him). "What are you talking about?" Touran said. "While you were away, somebody has decided to run off with my daughter and kill her," Piqoud said. "I would give you a pardon if you were to bring this killer to me... alive." "Forget it, Piqoud," Touran said. "Your words of fate are like the venomous secretions of a hen-chick." "Touran! I know you are angry with me, but consider who we're talking about! My daughter, Geneveve. She was a virgin blossom, such as this Cherry Girl that you have brought with you. Her death was a spoiling that she did not deserve. Bring her killer to me and I will grant your pardon, and there will be justice! After all, isn't that what you do?" Touran looked at the Irish woman that took his arm and after they exchanged looks, Piqoud knew that he had touched the Cherry Girl and the Cherry Girl held his heart... which meant that she also held his valor. "Fine. Call off the hunt and I'll do what I can," Touran said. "Done," Piqoud said. Once Touran departed his company with the High Guards, Lord Piqoud returned to his seat, poured more ale and gulped it down until the pain was dissolved enough to grin. Sure, the hunt would be called off--for now. "But your time will end shortly," he said to no one. And that was a matter of fact. [Next Chapter: Lady Geneveve meets two twisted girls and she gets closer to the farmer's son, who is the only one who doesn't treat her like a slave...] Mask & Veil Ch. 04 Chapter Four: Femme Escate It had been months since the scoundrel, Guillme, had deposited her with the Beauchamp peasants that now kept her as a slave. There was no respect for her station, no wisp of even thought for it, or the fact that she was even human. They treated her like an unwanted animal, but watched her closely to make sure she didn't run. The only friend she seemed to have was the farmer's son, Julien-Paul, who brought her more food once his parents had retired for the night. At first her job was to clean the dung from the barn and around the cottage. Soon Gilbert-Luc Beauchamp added working near the house, washing clothes on a washing board. And she was never working fast enough, even though her fingers bled every day. And on bad days, which was most every day, Gilbert-Luc snatched his wooden rod and beat her until her body was drenched in her own blood. At night, however, after the last of the lights went out, Julien-Paul would come out with a bowl of water and rags, cleaning the blood off her body and telling her how he wished he could kill his father for her. He was angry when he said it, but she knew that Julien-Paul was unable to attempt such a feat. His heart was too big for him, even though he knew his father's death would make no one cry but his own. Autumn came cold and harsh. Julien-Paul and his younger sister, Audrey-Christelle, brought her a blanket that night, surprising her by bringing their own and sitting by her to keep her some company. "Before you came my father said that you were once a Princess, casted out of your house by your own father," Audrey said. "Is that true?" "Audrey!" Julien-Paul shouted. "No, it's okay, Julien. I wasn't a princess. I was a Lady of the Court, the daughter of a Baron. And it wasn't my father who casted me from the House. I was abducted by the man who brought me here. He drugged me and took me away, telling everyone he met that I was dead. It was all some sort of cruel scheme, but I don't know who, why or how any of this happened," Geneveve said. "Guillme! He's a wicked man. The guy works as a mercenary for those who can pay him well. We see him around Nazas all the time since he brought you," Audrey-Christelle said. "He likes out bath house." "Bath house?" "Yeah," Julien-Paul said. "It's where men go to get clean and spend some time with ladies. You know, those types that you buy just to have sex with." "That's it," Audrey-Christelle said, smiling. "The village whores!" Julien-Paul laughed. "Someday I will have to visit them." "I asked father if you could go to the market with me," Audrey-Christelle said. "Really?" "Yes! We go to barter some of our food for other supplies and we have to get ready for the winter. Father said I must show you a few tricks, but you could go," Audrey-Christelle said. "And you can meet a couple of friends of mine." "That's perfect," Julien-Paul said. "Meeting new people may raise Geneveve's spirit." Geneveve wasn't so sure, but it did sound nice to leave the farm for awhile. "Good, because Father's corvee comes in a couple of weeks and Father will surely send Geneveve his is stead." "Corvee?" Geneveve said. "Yes. We live on the lands of our Lords and, to pay rent for our lands, we must work in their fields so many days out of the year," Julien-Paul said. "Last year it was Father and I, but Father bought you to take his place in our Lord's fields." "So we will be going?" Geneveve said and Julien-Paul nodded, which was enough for her. Maybe this would give them a chance to get closer. Even better, maybe it was an opportunity to escape.