2 comments/ 11193 views/ 6 favorites The Maiden at Comfry By: latinplayer Foreword: In my erotic, comedic fantasy release, Raymund and Natalie's Grand Adventure, an 11th century couple in their early forties has been taxed to the point where they rebel against the Church, and as a result, they leave their home behind and have the adventure of a lifetime. The lead character, played by myself, has yearned to be a storyteller all his life, and the following is one of the stories he tells on his travels. The part of Natalie is played by Lady N., who was gracious enough to contribute her own personality and ideas to the main novel, but not to this portion of it. Instead, it was Lady M. who helped me first come up with the concept for the Maiden at Comfry. We pretended to write letters to one another in a medieval setting, while speaking 'Forsooth.' The messages sent through the courier are the original messages Lady M. and I sent to each other, but she soon lost interest and abandoned the project. It wasn't until Lady N. came along that I resurfaced the concept and added it to Grand Adventure. (Of note: I met Lady M. here on Literotica, and with her help, I produced the short XXX novella, The Girl Next Door - Meet Marie.) And so, let me present to you: The Maiden At Comfry Sir Longenhard sat brooding at the tavern bar, swirling the last of the swill at the bottom of his mug. He drank the rot, at the same time recalling better times, when the ale tasted proper and satisfying, but those times were long past now. The forty-year-old knight slammed his mug on the tavern hard enough to cause several of the other patrons to turn in his direction. He glared at the tender. "One more mug of your filth, cretin. I dare say your worthless ale was fermented by your own piss." "Ha!" The tender scoffed. "I'll chew on some cinnamon next time I have me-self a drink, then. That should fix up the taste of my ale, ay? Once I've emptied out me cock into the barrel? If you've still got a few pennies left, I'll be more than glad to serve you up another piss-ale, or ale-piss, as you please." Longenhard reached for the small purse tied to his belt. He grimaced as he took in its contents, and spilled out a plethora of pennies, ha'pennies, and farthings. "Here's all of it. Keep the ale coming until it's all gone." The tender came and looked over the collection. The old knight probably didn't know he had damn near a crown sitting on the bar, the greedy tender thought, and it would be very easy to short-change him in the drunken, depressed stupor he was in. He'd just reached out to sweep the coins into his large apron pocket, when a short sword came to rest on his forearm. The tender looked up to see two strapping young knights, in fancy sleeveless jackets, tunics and long stockings, staring back at him. "Take what is due to you, and not a penny more." The knight who'd drawn his sword said, and although his voice was gentle, there was an underlying current of menace present beneath. The tender smiled, for he much valued the use of his arm. "O'course, 'at's what I meant to do. Care for anything for yourselves?" "Some mutton, a good bread and some cheese, for the two of us." The knight requested, as he withdrew his sword, and sheathed it away into its leather frog. "Only the finest." The tender nodded, and quickly stepped away. The two young knights took seats besides the older one. "I knew how much I had on the bar." Longenhard commented, as he began collecting up his currency. "No simple-minded tender who sells piss for ale would have gotten the best of me." "We had to make sure." The young knight smiled. "I'm Brom, and this is Frendel." The three men shook hands, and all three had very strong grips. "Longenhard." The old knight replied. "What ails thee, old man?" Brom asked. "We heard the anger in your voice as we stepped in." "Nothing but the present, dismal state of the world." The old knight admitted. "When I was younger, the unconquered territories teemed with adventures and maidens needing rescue. Now, everything has been conquered, and there is nothing new left under the sun." "We sympathize with you, old man." Frendel nodded. "We ourselves are on our way to the northern end of Brittany, for we hear that the Vikings have begun raiding our settlements there again." "Have they now?" Longenhard asked, once again reminiscing better times. "Vikings, now there's an enemy worthy of proving your mettle against. If I were ten years younger, I'd join you myself, but I'm afraid I can no longer dodge a flying axe the way I once did." "Tis only a rumor, anyway." Brom added. "Perhaps there is nothing to it." "Imagine traveling halfway across the country of England on a wild goose chase." Frendel shook his head. "We wouldn't have any currency left to make it back." Longenhard laughed. "It's happened to me, lad. More than once. There is nothing like being stranded in a priory full of feeble monks, with no women to be found for miles in any direction." The bartender came back, with three full mugs. "Here you go, Longenhard, and two for your new friends as well. Complimentary, o'course." "We thank you for the hospitality." Brom said, graciously. "Perhaps we'll consider recommending your tavern to any travelers we might run into, on our travels south." "In that case, let me get you some of my better ale." The tender turned abruptly, without dropping off a single mug. "I knew he had better ale." Longenhard grumbled. "The soulless cur." They continued to converse, pausing when the tender came back. Three mugs were left in the man's wake, and this time, the three knights were quick to grab them. Longenhard took the first sip. "Well, it doesn't taste like the usual piss, although it does have a certain flavor, as if it has been farted upon for an entire night." The other two men laughed. "A good maiden to be rescued, that's what I need." Longenhard winked. "To get my spirits up, if you know what I mean." "Interesting that you should mention that." Brom replied. "We ran into a minstrel, a day or two ago, and he made a curious mention regarding a maiden." "Wettanreddy." Frendel said. "That was her name, wasn't it?" "Yes, it was." Brom nodded, turning toward the old knight. "It is a curious tale, if you'd like to hear it?" "Of course. Please go on." "Are you familiar with Comfry?" Brom asked. "I have passed through that country, a time or two." "Well, the town was too far out of our way, so we didn't get close enough to confirm any of this." Brom went on. "But according to the minstrel, it seems that a new lord has taken over the land. His name was, what was it again, Frendel?" "Rodolfus Garvel. Better known as Rodolfus the Toad." "Frendel is so much better at remembering names than I am. Well, this Toad person has taken over the land through some sort of skullduggery, and he's done what these corrupt lords always do; steal land from the poor and raise taxes and all that. In order to become the envy of his subjects, he has appropriated the most beautiful damsel in his new kingdom, and the maiden's surname is Wettanreddy. As it happens in these cases, the maiden does not love her lord, and as a result, he's locked her up in a tower in his castle." "The scoundrel!" Longenhard snapped. "It seems as if they build those towers expressly for the purpose of locking up damsels within them! When will this tragedy end!" Brom continued. "According to the minstrel, this Toad has placed a chastity belt on the maiden, and he's recently gone abroad for some reason or another, leaving the damsel under lock and key." Frendel cut in. "Rodolfus means to trade his excess flour for spices, if what the minstrel said is true." "The result is that the maiden is waiting there in the tower, good and ripe for a knight to come to her rescue." Brom finished off. "We would have gone after her ourselves, except we don't know whether or not to believe the storyteller's story, and as I said, Comfry lies in a completely different direction than our intended destination does." "If we did rescue her," Frendel joked. "We'd be fighting over who would be the first take her virginity." "There is that." Brom agreed. "Better to fight against the Viking horde, than to end up maiming ourselves over a single woman. Where is the honor in that?" "Did the minstrel describe this damsel?" Longenhard asked. "Ah, yes." Brom nodded. "And very well, he did. Tresses like the rays of the sun, a face like Eve's, lips like wine, and my favorite, breasts like small, twin moons." The old knight sighed. "A pity I'm so old and ragged, else I'd be tempted to find out if all this were true or not for my self." "You should brush up on your poetry, old man," Frendel said. "For the minstrel did in fact say that in the damsel's dreams, she had foreseen a man coming to her aid, and that he was long and hard for her." The young men were teasing him now, the old knight grinned. A sudden realization came to Brom. "The minstrel did say that, didn't he? He said those very words, long and hard, and what a coincidence, because your surname is Longenhard! I swear to you, old sir, on the Legend of the Round Table of King Arturos, that is exactly what the minstrel said." Longenhard chuckled, but the truth of it was, he didn't know quite what to make of the story. "Your tale bears pondering, I suppose." "The maiden also said that her rescuer would come not with a short sword, but with a lance!" Frendel recalled, proud that he had remembered so much, when Brom had not. Brom happened to glance down at Sir Longenhard's crotch. "That's quite a codpiece, old man. (A codpiece is an accessory shaped in the form of a phallus, which knights of old wore around their waist to promote their virility. Certain African tribes still wear codpieces to this present today.)" Longenhard looked stricken. "What is it, old sir?" Brom sniggered. "Have I drawn attention to something you'd much rather not have exposed? Have you a wee Willie, Sir Longenhard?" "My codpiece is not merely for show." "Right." Brom nodded. "Your codpiece has got to be ten inches long, and as fat as my wrist. Do you really mean to tell me that your cock is that size?" Without another word, Sir Longenhard stepped off the stool, and undid the strap holding his codpiece to his waist. The codpiece fell to the floor. Both Brom and Frendel gasped in terror and jumped back so fast, their stools fell to the ground. The rest of the crowd glanced over to see what had transpired, and came upon the sight of Sir Longenhard's kingly piece. A collective "Oooooohh." could be heard in the tavern. "By the royal crown, put that thing away!" Brom insisted. "Do you really use that thing on women?" The old knight shrugged. "Part of it, anyway. The other part has nowhere to go. I'll have you know as well, I've been calling it The Lance ever since my balls dropped." "The maiden's dream was a prophecy!" Frendel suggested. "You are the long and hard knight she dreamt of, because your surname is Longenhard, and you bring the lance with you instead of the short sword, just as she said you would! It cannot possibly be a coincidence!" The old knight slid the long codpiece back over his cock, and considered the words. "I must dwell on this." "No, you cannot." Frendel said. "You must act, and act at once, for the minstrel also related that this beautiful damsel is at the point of taking her own life, because she so abhors the thought of her betrothed forcing himself upon her! This is prophecy, man!" "What do you suggest?" Longenhard asked. "I have no horse, and I must supply myself with provisions for such a long journey. As you saw yourself, I have less than a crown left in my purse." "If you have no horse, then you must get a horse!" Frendel resolved. "And the same with your provisions. But now, at once, you must let the damsel know that you exist, or you risk that she might be dead by the time you reach her." Longenhard stared hard at the two young men. "May your horses drag you down a rocky hillside, if you are lying to me." "We cannot lie!" Brom replied. The man fumbled with his collar until he pulled out a necklace, and on its end was the symbol of the Round Table. "We have sworn fealty to the code of King Arturos, to uphold what we know is true. We are forbidden to lie!" In Longenhard's mind, the matter was settled. He turned toward the crowd. "Is there a courier in the tavern?" One hunched man crept forward. "I am a courier, sir. Forgive me, sir, but I was eavesdropping for the entire conversation. I have keen ears, ya know." "That is well, for it saves me the trouble of retelling the entire account." The old knight dismissed the fault. "Will you go to Comfry in my name, for four shillings?" "I will indeed, sir." "Are you versed in ink and paper?" "I am not, sir." The man shook his head. "But I do have an excellent memory. I will repeat your words to the lady exactly as you have spoken them to me. I promise I will, and may you remove my tongue if I am wrong." "Very well, I shall hold you to that statement." Longenhard nodded. "Take this message to the lady Wettanready at Comfry." He took a deep breath. "My lady, I send this missive to inform you that a knight such as the one that haunts your dreams does in fact exist. I am Sir Longenhard of Aberfeld, and I carry not a short sword, but a great, golden lance. I will have you know this: Whether it be by horse or on foot, I come for thee. Let not the mountains, nor the valleys, nor the threat of thy betrothed forbid my travels, nor hinder my speed and fervor. Let the fire that now burns within my loins for thou, my dear maiden, spur my body to advance to the tower where thou has been imprisoned. As the cock crows upon the morrow, I shall set off for thee. That is all, courier." All at once, the patrons in the tavern stood up started cheering and clapping. Even the crusty bartender wiped a grimy tear from his eye. "That was an excellent message, for an old man." Brom complimented him. "I do have some experience in this sort of thing." Longenhard grinned. "And I have studied quite a bit of Forsooth." "Wait, can you start again?" The courier scratched his head. "I got as far as 'take this message'." Longenhard frowned. "A joke, sir." The courier had a good laugh. "Ha ha ha! I've memorized the entire message, don't you worry about that." "You are a strange one." The old knight eyed him warily. "Now, let us be off to the map-maker. I will have two maps made to mark my route, so that you may better find me upon your return." Once he'd dismissed himself from the two young knights, Longenhard and his messenger left the tavern, and the old knight was happy that at long last, he had a worthy challenge ahead of him. The following day, Sir Longenhard settled his account at the inn, bathed in the horse trough, and since the purchase of a steed, or even a mule, was beyond his means, he began walking south and in the general direction of Comfry. Luck was with him, for a straw merchant happened by at the time of the sun's zenith in the sky, and the old knight offered the merchant a sixpence to ride in the back of his carriage. "Have you a good sword, old knight?" The merchant asked. "I have." Longenhard patted his sheathed weapon, which was secured to his side. "I hear there may be bandits in these parts." The merchant pointed at the road ahead. "But I cannot afford to hire a swordsman to fend these thieves off. If you would pledge to defend my carriage, I will allow you to ride as long as you wish." "I give you my word." Sir Longenhard agreed. "I will defend your carriage with my life." "Very well." The merchant nodded. "You may ride along." By evening, they'd reached the township of Lynn, which had a stone wall bordering its northeastern half, and a wide, fortified ditch on its southeastern end. The entire west end of Lynn faced the ocean, and several rivers ran through it, making it a hospitable place for travelers and merchants. The merchant, a man by the name of Wayland, paid the toll at the town gate, for the privilege of passing unencumbered through town, as well as for sleeping safely just inside the township's south gate for the night. As the darkness was falling upon them, Wayland reached the south gate, and parked his straw-laden wagon next to a row of similarly loaded vehicles. A constable came by and introduced himself, stating that sentries would be on patrol the entire night, to make sure that the merchants and their goods would not be disturbed. "This is a good town." Wayland nodded, as he led Longenhard to a large campfire, where food vendors from Lynn and merchants from abroad all congregated together. As the two men ate a pottage of oats, beans and turnips, and drank some fairly tasteless and watery ale, they heard a few harrowing tales of wagons being attacked just south of the city. One of the merchants asked Wayland if he were afraid of bandits. "I am not." The man replied, after which he pointed at the old knight. "I have hired a great warrior to protect me from thieves. This is Sir Longenhard of Aberfeld, and though he may be long in the tooth, he still has a fighter's instincts, and will be more than a match for any bandits that we may come across." The merchants all turned to stare at the sturdy looking knight. "Of course," The merchant went on. "For a small fee, you yourselves could benefit from Sir Longenhard's battle prowess, and ride along in my caravan. We shall depart from here at the break of dawn." Longenhard couldn't help but smile, as he knew that Wayland was doing what any other savvy businessman would be doing in his place. Once the two men returned to their carriage, Wayland leaned close to whisper, "Of course, I will share a small percentage of my earnings with you." "Of course." The old knight nodded in agreement, for he had long ago grown accustomed to the ways of the world. The next morning, no less than seven additional wagons had joined up with Wayland's. As they set out, Longenhard calculated that such a large contingent would undoubtedly attract bandits by the hordes, and he quickly assessed the combat skills of all the drivers, and organized the strongest ones at the front and rear of the caravan. All was going well, until Longenhard spotted a lone horseman at the crest of the hill. The old knight had been scouting ahead on foot, and now jogged up to Wayland's carriage to order the merchant to halt. "Why stop?" Wayland complained. "You saw one man, and nothing more." They'd been traveling through a wide, grassy plain, the old knight explained, when he pointed at a great copse of trees half a mile down the road. "That, my friend, is the perfect place for an ambush. Let us stop here, and let these bandits come to us instead." Three sturdy merchants came to his side, armed with maces and short swords, and from the copse, no less than ten mounted bandits came out to meet them. "Stay here, men." Longenhard stated, as he bravely walked out to face the bandits. The ten thieves stopped a few yards from his position, and as they scrutinized him, the old knight was scrutinizing them as well. Some were brutes, he noticed right away, but some were lean and hungry men, whom he figured had simply drawn a bad lot by the simple act of being born. "Do you mean to stop us by yourself, old man?" The biggest brute sneered. "I do." Longenhard replied. "It has been some time since a minstrel has dedicated a song in my honor, and I mean to have a new song written for me to-day. I am Sir Longenhard of Aberfeld, and I hail from modest means, and I can see that many of you men come from such humble beginnings as well. I have risen from my surroundings, however, and I was following the Knight's Code well before the name of King Arturos has been brought back from legend. Know that under the Knight's Code, I cannot lie, and I am not lying when I tell you this; I was with King Alfred at Edington, I assisted in repelling the Viking hordes at sea, when Alfred attacked them with Britannic ships, and I helped slay the last of the dragons with Oswalt at the Devil's Causeway. Come at me one or all, it matters not, for any of you that draw your sword today will continue to be felled as long as the blood courses through my veins, and the breath expels from my lungs. I stand ready." The Maiden at Comfry He drew his sword. The large brute simply laughed, but his laugh was cut short as he turned to witness his fellows. Many were backing their horses away, as if attempting to dissociate themselves from the rest of the pack. "What?" The brute shouted back. "We will kill this man, as we've killed others!" "This is a man of honor." One of the other ruffians countered. "This is not a corrupt lord, or one of his stupid minions, or even a greedy merchant. Men like this one defended my village from marauders, when I was a child. They saved my village many times." "Ay, I will not clash swords with him, either." Another agreed. "Let him pass, and his caravan as well." In anger, the brute kicked at his horse's flanks, and rushed forward in an attempt to run Sir Longenhard down. The old knight once had the reflexes of a cat, and he had just enough of them left in his body to sidestep and slash out at the bandit's middle. There was much blood, as the bandit crumpled in his saddle, and as the horse slowed, the man jerked forward in pain, groaned and fell harshly to the ground. He tottered to his feet and staggered into the grass, and in order to end his suffering quickly, and as was the custom in these cases, Sir Longenhard went to the man and finished him off. He returned, and in broad view of the rest of the band, the old knight wiped their leader's blood on the grass. After, he went again to face them. "I will leave that corpse for the ravens, and unless one of your number contests this through battle, I will take his horse and property as well." None of the bandits spoke. "I sent a courier in this direction, one day prior, and I wish to know if he made it through here safely. He was a man with a hunch on his back." "He did come by here." One of the men nodded. "He gave us a shilling if we allowed him to pass, and promised us another upon his return. We had no quarrel with the man, as he was a common man like us." "Very well." Longenhard sheathed his sword. "Have any of you news of Comfry?" "Comfry!" One of the bandits spat out. "A Toad has taken over that land! Half of the men you see here are from Comfry! We've all had our lands taken away because we could ill afford to pay Rodolfus' heavy taxes!" "I mean to rescue a beautiful maiden from this man's castle." The old knight revealed. "By yourself?" The bandit laughed. "You wouldn't get within a hundred paces of the Toad's castle, before his archers let the daylight into you!" "The more I hear of this Rodolfus, the less I like about the man." Longenhard admitted. "If I gather enough men, perhaps I will lay siege to his castle myself, as I have done to such tyrants in the past. Step aside and allow my caravan to pass, while I ponder this man's fate, and how it will be intertwined with my own." The bandits moved their horses aside, and the caravan went through without further incident. As the caravan entered the copse, Longenhard noticed that the bandits were following a short distance behind. They weren't threatening the caravan in any way, so the old knight simply let them be. In this way, not only had he gained a horse and a few provisions, but an entourage of bandits as well. Once the night began to fall, Sir Longenhard realized that they were too far from any protected cities to reach them, and since they'd entered another heavily wooded area, he made plans to camp there with the wagons two abreast. He noted that the bandits were still following, and he went out to them, hoping that the nine men would not present themselves as a problem once it was completely dark. "Will I have to fret over your number to-night?" He asked. "No." One of them said. "We've been talking things over the entire day, thanks to what you did this morning. If you truly mean to free Comfry, we will join you." "I cannot be sure of that yet." The old knight admitted. "We would need many more than ten men on our side in order to storm a castle." "Still, we would travel along with your caravan, if only to see if more men will join you." "Not just me." Longenhard countered. "Us. I am just one man, but ten men together are a thorn in a cruel leader's side. Twenty men are a force to contend with, and thirty men are the beginnings of an army. I may fall dead after the first volley of arrows is loosed upon our heads, but if the rest forge on, there may be a victory yet. This is how great battles are decided, I have learned, by the will of the combatants involved, even when defeat looks certain. Now, if you behave yourselves as civilized men, you may come closer and warm yourselves by our campfire." The bandit stretched out his hand. "I am Hadden of Comfry." Sir Longenhard shook it. The bandits were welcomed uneasily into the caravan, but when they introduced several hares and capons to the group as a sort of tribute, the merchant's insecurities lessened somewhat. When the bandits saw that they weren't rebuked outright, they even added a few barrels of savory ale to the mix, which they'd earlier confiscated from a shipment meant for the accursed Rodolfus the Toad. Hadden proved to be a savvy, calculating man, the old knight observed, and just the type that would follow orders well and keep his underlings under control. "I'm putting my confidence in you, Hadden." Longenhard eyed him sharply, hoping to read how the man's body language reacted to his following words. "That you will not slit my throat while I sleep to-night." Hadden glanced over thoughtfully, and grinned. "You have my word, old man. Neither you, nor your merchants will be harmed. In fact, I shall put sentries all around to keep watch over the lot of us." The old knight nodded, as Hadden gave every inclination that he was telling the truth. That night, Longenhard slept peacefully, until his sharp senses, honed both in the field and in battle, warned him that something was awry. His sword lay close enough that he could easily reach out his arm to grab it, and when he heard a soft footstep nearby, he did in fact enclose his fingers upon its hilt. "Who goes there?" "It is I, Hadden." The man's voice carried back. "We are surrounded by men, in the trees around the caravan, and I am about to make an announcement. I did not wish to startle you by the sound of my loud voice." Longenhard sat up. "I am awake now." Still, he held his sword close, in case of a sudden betrayal. "Make your announcement, Hadden." Hadden stepped a little further away from where the old knight rested. "Fuck the Toad!" He bellowed out, into the woods. "Fuck the Toad all the way back to Comfry!" There was a near silence, except for the merchants beginning to stir. "Hadden?" A distant shout could be heard. "Is that you, man?" "Aye, it is." Hadden replied. "You may lower your bow and come closer, Filmore. You will not be attacked here." From a completely unexpected direction, the rustle of footsteps could be heard. "You're supposed to be robbing these people, Hadden, not protecting them." The man's gruff voice scolded. "I can see how you've got your men posted, and I almost let loose a volley earlier, except I figured you would be about somewhere around here, watching the caravan as well. I did not expect you to be holding hands with these people." "I have a man here," Hadden revealed. "A knight, somewhat past his prime, who is trying to collect men together in order to go to Comfry and rid us of that accursed Toad." "Do you now?" Filmore was close, yet even with Longenhard's keen vision, he could still not see the man. "And what be this man's name?" "Sir Longenhard of Aberfeld." The old knight introduced himself. "Now come forward and make yourself seen, for I will not be addressing a shadow of a man, but the man himself." "Longenhard." Filmore appeared, dressed from head to toe in dull, black garb. It was no wonder the old knight couldn't make the bowman out, as even his face was smudged dark with charcoal. "The name sounds familiar. And you hail from Aberfeld, you say? You aren't by chance the knight with the golden lance, who some say was sired by a steed?" "I am the very man." Longenhard replied. "I shall remove my codpiece, if you wish to verify the size of my lance." "Not necessary." Filmore said. "I give you my hand, sir." In the pitch black, the old knight couldn't even see that Filmore was holding his hand out in salutation, until he noticed the appendage waving his face. He could have been stabbed ten times over, he realized, as he took and shook the man's hand. Perhaps he really was getting too old to be an adventurer. Hadden ordered his men to raise up a fire, and once this was done, Filmore whistled out for his own band of thieves to come in closer. Seven archers, most of them deserters from Comfry's militia, soon joined them. Inspired by Longenhard's commitment, and a little more by his cocky legend, Filmore and Hadden began to entertain the notion of attacking Rodolfus' castle, and considered its strengths and weaknesses. And so it happened, that the archers agreed to join the cause, and the old knight's troops increased from ten to eighteen. The following morning, they had traveled only a few hours before they reached a fork in the road. The entire caravan of merchants would be going in a different direction from Comfry, due to the Toad's heavy taxation on traveling merchants. Two bandits were being sent along with the wagons, in order to keep the merchants safe, and to spread the word about Longenhard's growing army. As the caravan moved on, the merchant Wayland called out to Longenhard, and the old knight galloped to his wagon's side. Wayland presented him with a pouch of coins. "I meant to keep most of this, you know. But since you've kept us all from being robbed, or worse, and since you've proven yourself to be an honorable man, I've decided to give you the bulk of it. I've deducted only what I paid for your food at Lynn, and there are nearly two crowns still left in the pouch. May your efforts be successful, Sir Longenhard, and may your maiden be as comely as the songs tell us she is." They shook hands, and parted ways. The old knight rode his horse back to the fork, where fifteen bandits waited for him. He directed his horse to stride next to Hadden's, and he handed the man his new pouch of currency. "What's this?" Hadden asked, as he weighed the pouch of coin in his hand. "My earnings for having guarded the caravan." Longenhard explained. "I am hereby placing my confidence in you, Hadden, and appointing you as my treasurer. There are nearly two crowns in that pouch, and I would like you to take one crown out. You are to spend half of this amount in purchasing weapons and repairing your men's equipment, and the other half in purchasing dried foodstuffs that will not perish right away. The rest you are to hold onto, until my courier returns, for I may require some of the remaining currency to further retain his services." Hadden stared at the bag of coins in his possession, for it was not a small amount considering the meager lifestyle of a bandit. Then his resolve tightened, and he looked once again upon the old knight's countenance. "I will do as you say, on my honor." Shortly past noon, a single rider was seen approaching, on an old and tired horse. This turned out to be the courier, Longenhard could see from a distance, and he requested, not ordered, Hadden to send two men out to greet the man. The hunched courier was surprised to see the old knight in the company of not one, but two small bands of brigands. Filmore and Hadden both joined the knight as he went out to speak with the rider. "Report, courier." Longenhard stated. "Yes, sir." The courier nodded, overcoming his initial shock. "I went to Comfry, as you requested, but I had a tough time getting into the castle to see the maiden. It is true that Lord Rodolfus is away on business, but his guards are very wary of visitors. I was not allowed to set eyes on her until I told the guards that I was sent by the maiden's parents, the names of which I had already learned as I rode through the town." "You are a savvy one, courier." Longenhard complimented. "Thank you, sir." The courier nodded. "I did give her your message, sir, although it cost me great pains afterward. The guards flogged me, robbed me, and took my good horse. They gave me this lame one, only to be rid of it themselves, or I would have reached you much earlier. I swear this is the truth." Longenhard reached out and patted the man's shoulder. "You are to be commended, my good man." "May I say something in confidence, sir?" The courier asked. "You may." "I do not wish you to believe that I have deceived you. I hid a portion of your payment some distance from the town, in the case that any ill fortune might have befallen me. The guards did rob me, as I said, but upon my departure from the town, I stopped by to collect the rest of it. One shilling I was going to give to these very same men that stand around you, for my safe passage back. It is all the coin I still carry with me." "You are a wise man, courier." Longenhard said. "Now, tell me about this maiden." "The minstrel's description does not even begin to do her justice, sir. Her hair is golden and flows to the blades of her shoulders, and her face is as beautiful as the sun is bright. The maiden Wettanreddy told me this herself, that her father kept her within his house when he became aware of how comely she was becoming, and it was only through the census that Rodolfus imposed, that the census taker first became aware that she even existed. Knowing that such a beauty would place him into favor with the lord, this man informed Rodolfus of the maiden, and it was then that she was taken from her home and against her will." "Did the maiden give you a message in return?" Longenhard asked. "She did, my good sir." He glanced over at the other men. "It is of a personal nature." The old knight understood at once. "Some privacy, please, gentlemen." Both Filmore and Hadden rode off. "Go on, courier." "The lady had this to say," The hunched man started. "Brave knight of Aberfeld, I am delighted to discover that my dreams have not deceived me. Bring me your golden lance, as you have many times in my visions, and bring it to me both long and hard as your surname implies. My only fear is that your great lance will wilt once your eyes fall upon my Belt of Chastity, and that your fingers will be hard pressed to reach beyond its metal edges to reach the great treasure it protects. Oh, that you would feel my hard pleasure button! "Your travels will not be without fruit, my dear knight, for I will aid thy lance into its fullness once again. Mine soft lips will I place around it, to strengthen its length and breath into the hardness of steel and return it to its glory. Sheathe and unsheathe your lance within the moist walls of mine humble orifice, that together we may bring forth its wrath, and spew forth thy fire-milk within my mouth. "I welcome thy lance, and thine fire-milk, that I may cuckold the tyrant who has stolen me away from my home and my loved ones, and I beseech thee, brave knight, to make good on your words, to come to Comfry and to rescue me, and after I am free, to cut away these bonds of Chastity and make an ardent love to me, to fuck me as none have done before." The courier cleared his throat. "That is all, sir." Sir Longenhard gulped. "Thank you, courier." He noticed that his codpiece was standing straight up. "I must, uh, retire into the trees for a few minutes. Please join my group, and have either Filmore or Hadden explain the current situation to you." Some time later, a more composed Longenhard galloped back to the group, his codpiece at its usual position. By then, the number of bandits had all dismounted and retired to the shade of a grouping of trees. As soon as the courier saw him, he ran out to meet the old knight. "Sir, I would join your troop!" He said, through gritted and angry teeth." "That Toad of Comfry has inspired your wrath, has he?" "Oh, you bet he has, sir!" The courier hopped up and down. "If you would have me, I will deliver any message you so desire to the lady Wettandreddy, without recompense to my person! I will not stand idle while my countrymen suffer at the hands of a tyrant! I may not have the skills of a soldier, but those that I do have are entirely at your disposal!" "I would not put you in harm's way, and have you beaten again." "You need not worry there, great knight." The courier vigorously shook his head. "I have memorized plenty of threats and rebuttals from a host of chieftains and warlords. If the guards dare to deter my path, I shall give them such a tongue-lashing that it will leave them all pissing in their boots." "Very well." Longenhard nodded. "I will have a message ready for the lady by early this evening. You will be paid your wages accordingly, as it is the honorable thing for me to do. Now tell me your name, as I neglected to ask for it earlier." The courier, who had been pacing around the old knight's horse, snarling and snapping his jaws as he went, strode up to the saddle and gave his hand as his bond. "Odo, sir, and I am your man!" And so, the old knight gained himself his own personal messenger, along with eight armed bandits, eight capable archers and two others roaming the countryside. By evening, they were within a single day's ride from Comfry, although their slower pace put them at about a day and a half's journey. Longenhard was purposefully riding slowly, in order to allow any other men to catch up and join them. They came to a solitary building along the road, which served as a tavern and inn for weary travelers. Of course, the innkeeper, a man older than even Longenhard, was quite apprehensive to see eighteen well-armed men stepping into his establishment all at once. Gulping, the old man ordered his two serving girls, and his two wenches, to hide behind the bar with him. A handful of patrons shifted in their chairs, their hands either at their swords, or clutching their purses. The old knight stepped forward. "Have no fear. I am Sir Longenhard of Aberfeld, a man sworn to the Knight's Code. I bring no ill will toward this place, and merely wish to dine and drink with my men. I will also have you all know that if I am capable, I aim to rid Comfry of it's ruler, and to take the maiden he has locked up in his tower for my own." One of the patrons slammed his wooden mug on the table. "Fuck the Toad!" Several of the bandits took up the slogan. "Fuck the Toad!" The innkeeper nervously wiped his hands with an old rag and scrutinized the rabble standing behind Longenhard. "I'm afraid I may not have enough fresh meat for the lot of you." "No worries there." The old knight respectfully motioned toward Filmore, who in turned motioned for some of the archers to come forward. With them, they brought all manner of hedgehogs, squirrels, rabbits and hares that they'd shot down for that day's target practice. "I have foreseen this, and planned accordingly. I only ask that you charge us a fair price for preparing this feast." "Yes, of course." The innkeeper nodded, and between the single cook, the two serving girls, and several volunteers from Longenhard's contingent, they took the animals into the kitchen and began to skin and gut them. "Will you be drinking ale as well?" "Does it taste as if it has been fermented in your own piss?" The old knight asked. The old bartender looked aghast, for a good moment. Then he threw his towel down on the bar, and walked around it to stand before Longenhard. He curled his hands up into fists and stood in a fighter's stance. "In your mother's piss, perhaps!" Of course, this set the band of men into raucous laughter. "I take pride in my work!" The old innkeeper glared at the old knight. "I'll not have it belittled that way by anyone!" The Maiden at Comfry "Lower your hands, old sir." Longenhard smiled. "It was merely a jest. The last tender I had the misfortune to run across, had no qualms about revealing the ingredients for his putrid ale." "Oh." The innkeeper straightened up. "In that case, you should find yourself pleasantly surprised. You can ask any of the patrons here, and they'll all tell you that my ale is the best in these parts, and I dare say, in all of Comfry, as well." "He's right." Somebody in the back burped. "Best fuckin' ale in Comfry." "Hadden, please withdraw a shilling, and give it to this man." Longenhard directed. "How much ale would that get us?" "Not much, I'm afraid." The innkeeper grimaced. "The Toad knows the quality of my ale, and he collects a full half of it for his personal trove. He sends his guards once a week to pilfer away his share. As a result, I have been forced to double the price of my remaining stock. I charge a full penny per mug, instead of the old price of a ha'penny, and for a shilling I can only fill twelve mugs for your men. I am sorry." "I'll add half a shilling to the pot!" Odo called out. "And I'll add another full shilling." A capable looking man, in an expensive leather vest and fine breeches, stepped forward from the back of the inn. Having previously established the hierarchy while he sat, he shook hands with Filmore, Hadden, and finally, with Longenhard. "I am Owen of Comfry. I was formerly the captain of the guard at Comfry Castle, until the Toad came into power and put his idiotic brother in my place." "A cruel one, that is." Hadden sneered. "I would love to get my hands around that imbecile's throat, except he always hides behind his guards." Odo started snapping his jaws again. "That's the one that had me flogged!" "Down, Odo!" Longenhard held the hunched man back, before he took a good bite out of somebody. "Does anyone have a horse bit handy?" A short length of wood was soon inserted into Odo's mouth, and though he still growled and snarled, at least he was no longer cracking his jaws together. "Either you act civilized, or you will be tied outside with the horses." Longenhard warned him with a finger. "Do you understand this?" Odo nodded empathically. "Yeff, fir." He mumbled past the piece of wood. "Very well." The old knight turned back to the innkeeper. "I've reconsidered." The old man said, as he returned to his spot behind the bar, which felt much safer than being near the bizarre courier. "I will charge you the old price for the ale, and I will grant you and your men, and anyone else here tonight, the first round at my own expense. That will be my act of defiance towards the insipid Rodolfus!" A great round of cheers erupted, and the group of bandits started taking their seats all around. Owen stayed before the old knight, and his two co-captains. "I can help you." The former sentry captain said. "Many of the guards of Comfry are still loyal to me, but they dare not make a public move against the Toad, as their families have been threatened with violence and their holdings and properties menaced with confiscation, if they so much as cast a glance against him." The old knight nodded. "I could benefit from the expertise of a man such as yourself. Tell me what you know." And so, Longenhard's ranks swelled with the addition of a saboteur. From Owen, the old knight learned that Rodolfus' guards who still remained within the castle were numbered at thirty, and of those, at least half would be willing to turn against the Toad. In addition, the vast majority of the citizens of Comfry, save for that of a handful of greedy families connected to the Toad's hierarchy, were at the point of revolting with their pitchforks and scythes. "The guards have put down two small rebellions already, these past few months," Owen revealed. "Twice, the people have been beaten back into submission. This is why Rodolfus has so much excess flour to sell abroad, because he is stealing the livelihood away from the farmers in Comfry." "I'll second that." Hadden nodded. Longenhard absorbed everything. "I do appreciate your information, and I have a place for you among the men, if you so desire to join us." "If it will help me regain my former post, I will join." Owen nodded. "I will draw you a map of the castle's insides, and where its hidden passages are located. Some of these tunnels, not even Rodolfus knows about." "Have it ready for me by morning," The old knight stated. "But for now, let us set these matters of battle aside, and enjoy what remains of the night with drink and women." Filmore laughed, and turned toward the innkeeper. "We'll be wearing your two wenches out to-night, old man." "Oh, I dare say you won't." The keeper leaned forward to reply. "You see, one of them is French, and she's taught all of her wily tricks to the other one. They'll put your boys to shame, they will." All of the men within earshot turned to gaze at the two lovelies, who were both smiling and giving them the come hither look, while beckoning them with their fingers. "You'll be negotiating with them, as well." The keeper finished off. "Good luck to yeh all." Odo started panting heavily, and he took the piece of wood out of his mouth long enough to howl like a wolf. The night went on, and the innkeeper's excellent, tasty ale loosened the men's tongues, so much that they broke out into a derogatory song in honor of the Toad, every so often. "Fuck the Toad! Fuck the Toad!" Was usually the chorus to these ill-pitched tunes. Equally relaxed was Sir Longenhard, who called out, "Where is my courier?" Odo had his head lying on the French girl's lap, when he heard the question. His head popped up upon hearing his calling, and he hurried over to the old knight. "Here I am, sir!" "I am ready to give you my next message for the lady Wettanreddy." Odo cleared out his right ear, and quickly wiped the detritus against the counter. "Go ahead, sir." "To the lady Wettenreddy." Longenhard started, loud enough for the entire inn to hear. "My lady, upon mine arrival in Comfry proper, I shall procure the services of a blacksmith, an artisan well versed in the usage of hammer and chisel, that he might remove that accursed Belt of Chastity from around thy middle. I look forward to presenting mine golden lance to that pot of honey which resteth between thine legs, a pot that hath beguiled mine thoughts ever since mine ears first heard mention of thy plight. Once said Belt hath been vanquished into the nether, long and hard will mine lance stir into that pot! "However, this is not the only tool at mine disposal. There is mine tongue, which is long and as adept as a rapier, and eager to taste the sweet nectar of thy loins. I also shall employ mine hands and fingers, which shall seduce from thy cunt such pleasures as thou hast never before experienced. "The taste of thine lips is said to resemble that of a fine and intoxicating wine, and from their cave, will be drawn out that serpentine tongue of thine, that it might dance against mine lance and taunt it until a fountain of glory hath been expelled. "As the night waxes, I shall take thou, and each thrust from mine lance shall inflame thy loins further, until mine name shall resound from thy lips as the clamor from the bell in the tower where thou are kept. "I beseech thee, oh great lady Wettanreddy, keep mine name upon thine thoughts, for the codpiece that girds mine loins is not the empty accessory as it is worn on other knights. Instead, 'tis a pouch full of wonders, and throbbing manhood, which once removed shall reveal the mightiness of mine lance to thine eyes, and shall assuredly elicit an expectant and lusty gasp from thy ready mouth. "Fate be willing, shortly shall I stand in thine presence, mine lady, with mine mouth ready to suckle upon thine lovely breasts, and mine hands ready to unsheathe mine golden lance and settle it firmly upon thine enthralling loins. That is all, courier." Noticing the innkeeper's dirty rag resting on the counter, Odo quickly snatched it up and started wiping his forehead with it. "Sir, you have made my head light. What if, by chance, the lady becomes so aroused that she jumps my bones in the pretense that it is you that stands before her? She threatened to do so the last time, but I ran away from her chamber in the nick of time." Longenhard felt flattered, as it had been some time since his words had elicited such an effect on a maiden. "Did my words truly bring about such a reaction?" "They did, sir." "Well, make every attempt to escape her clutches." The old knight decided. "But if the lady should overpower you, after you have tried to your fullest to avoid her, I shall not hold rancor against you." "Thank you, sir. You are a good man, and a fine man, and a beautiful man, and an educated man, and..." "Enough, Odo." "I shall take my leave at once." The hunchback turned toward the door. "I will join you." Owen said. "I will inform the citizenry of your plans, Longenhard, and set some traps within the castle as well. You will have allies waiting for you when you reach the town proper." "Very well." The old knight nodded, and off they went. Longenhard found his thoughts wandering toward his lady in waiting so much, that he was forced to abstain from any dalliances with the two wenches. The pair of prostitutes did prove to be as capable as the innkeeper said, he noted, as the men's coins ran out well before the women's libido did, but the two wenches were so happy with the small fortuned they'd collected, that they kept servicing his entourage anyway. The next morning, the band of energized men chatted and patted each other's back as they stepped out of the inn. They were about to mount their horses, when a great cloud of dust was seen moving in their direction. Only a good number of cavalry could make such a tumult, they knew, and many of their number grew apprehensive at the sight. "It is the army of Rodolfus!" One man said. "He has no army." Another countered. "He only hires mercenaries, for a local man would not inflict misery upon his own brethren the way his men do." "It cannot be the Toad." Hadden refuted. "Comfry lies in the opposite direction. This is someone else's cavalry." "Filmore, send half your men to the right, and use the inn as cover, and the other half must go to the left and into the trees." Longenhard ordered. "Hadden, take half of your men and hide them behind the inn. The rest will stay by my side. We will draw them to us, and if they attack, the archers will cut down those between the inn and the trees. Any that come forward, the men that stand with me and I will engage directly. Any that retreat, Hadden will cut off." "A good plan." Filmore nodded. "I cannot take credit for it." Longenhard admitted. "One of King Alfred's advisors thought it up, long ago. We used it successfully against the Viking. No one is to loosen an arrow or unsheath a sword until I give the word." The men took their places, and the old knight stood there defiantly in the center of the road, with his sword sheathed, and nine armed men standing behind him. It was indeed a cavalry, they all soon saw, outfitted with leather jackets and helms. They did not carry the flag of Comfry, however. Their leader shouted a halt at a good distance from the inn, as he was battle-hardened enough to realize that his men were riding into an ambush. He called into his ranks, and a single horse galloped around the edge of the unit and came to the front. Its rider was a hairy and unruly sort. "That's Bayard!" One of the bandits cried out. Longenhard recognized the name as belonging to one of the bandits he'd sent out to recruit more fighters for his cause, but he hadn't expected Bayard to bring an actual army with him. Both Bayard and the leader of the cavalry trotted forward, but to avoid getting caught up in the crossfire, the old knight held his ground. "Are you Longenhard?" The leader of the cavalry, a stout man with a heavy beard, asked. "I am." "My name is Cheston. I am from Wilton, which lies to the west of Comfry." The man introduced himself. "My master, Lord Heathcliffe, has sent me and forty of his men to aid you in the subjugation of Comfry. We will be glad to see Rodolfus gone." The old knight couldn't help but smile. "Does this man Rodolfus have no friends anywhere?" "In Wilton, he does not." Cheston revealed. "At the boundary between Wilton and Comfry lies a common river, which beforehand the two kingdoms shared peacefully. By no small coincidence, as soon Rodolfus claimed his throne, pirates started harassing our fishing vessels. Also by coincidence, the fishing boats from Comfry were being left alone to take their fill at the best fishing spots." "I see." Longenhard nodded. "It makes one wonder how this man obtained power." "That was the fault of five noble Comfry families." Cheston explained. "Once the old ruler passed, there was no descendant left to take his place. The five families organized a coup, and set up Rodolfus as their puppet, and he as been currying their favor ever since." "Begging your pardon, sir." Bayard interrupted to speak to the old knight. "Along with Lord Heathcliffe's men, I've also brought along another twenty more, uh, displaced men. The second rider you sent with me has gone east to Winchester to recruit more." "Ay." Cheston nodded. "Winchester has as big a grudge on Comfry, as Wilton does, for Rodolfus keeps encroaching on their farming territory as well. They will pledge at least thirty men to the effort, as our two kingdoms have been plotting against the Toad ever since he started showing his true colors. All we needed was a catalyst to light things up, as it were, and it appears that you are that man." The old knight recalculated his forces; now he had forty trained men, thirty former bandits, eight archers, and one saboteur at his disposal, and one last bandit out recruiting even more men. It could be said that the odds were slowly tipping in his favor, he thought. "Let us ride toward Comfry." He said, and they did. It was late in the evening, and the troops were settling down for the night, when Odo came riding by. He halted and jumped off his horse, hurrying over to Longenhard's side. "Good news, sir, good news!" That's when he saw the official tents and flag, not to mention the better suited men of Wilton. "Oh, we have soldiers now?" "We do." The old knight nodded, as his advisors, Filmore, Hadden, and now Cheston, came close enough to hear. "Go on." "Owen has been busy planting rumors of dissent within the castle." Odo revealed. "The mercenaries are in a quandary over what to do, because Rodolfus is not around to give them orders, or to pay them for that matter, and Rodolfus' brother is too stupid to realized that if he doesn't do something about the mercenaries soon, he might lose control of them altogether. The farmers' guild has been informed, and they have all voted to support you. They will spend the entirety of tomorrow moving supplies close to the edge of town, in the case there is a prolonged siege, and they are fully prepared to bed and feed as many of us as they can. They are willing to do anything in their power to depose the Toad. As Owen said earlier, many of them only carry scythes and pitchforks, but they are well prepared to use them." "That is good news." Longenhard considered it all." Odo scrambled around through the folds of his clothes searching for something. "Oh, I know where I put it." He dropped his pants, and gave everyone a good view of his taile and cods (cock and balls). From below these jewels, he pulled out a folded and rank smelling piece of parchment. "Here is the map of the castle's interior. I had to hide it, as the Toad's brother searched me nearly from head to toe, but he did keep away from my arse!" Longenhard grimaced as he took the odorous item by two fingertips. "I see they didn't flog you this time." "Oh, they wanted to." Odo nodded. "They did. Really they did. But first Rodolfus' brother was arguing with his guards, and then with the mercenaries, and in the end he forgot I was still there. I simply stepped away when he wasn't watching, and I got the fuck out of there!" "And were you able to speak with the maiden?" "Yes, sir." Odo began, but he clammed up and looked around at the men standing beside the old knight. "Please leave the courier and I alone for the next few minutes." Longenhard asked. The three men nodded and left. Odo sighed. "Do I have to recount it exactly as the lady asked?" "Yes, it is vital that I receive the message in the exact manner in which it was given." Longenhard directed. "I order you to deliver it, word for word, or your payment will be forfeit." "Aaww!" Odo grumbled. "Have it your way, then!" He cleared his throat, before he turned away. Blindly, Odo reached out and grabbed hold of the old knight's codpiece, and he started fondling its considerable length. "The message from Lady Wettanreddy is this; Bring forth thy ready lance to explore both the prominent hills of mine breasts, and the deep valley of mine cunt. Lest your excitement wane from the cold metal seal that separates your lance from mine cave of pleasure, let mine hand stroke it from end to end and keep it warm. "Damn this metal, mine brave knight! For it prevents mine eyes from being closed, and mine hand from reaching down to bring pleasure to mine self, in the fantasy that it is thou that toucheth mine loins on this very day. Once thy blacksmith strikes that final blow that ends the siege upon my sweet nectar, thou had better be prepared to take me, right away and before I give thy blacksmith the first taste of me, in order to provoke your passion for me even more. "Thou shall drink, my lord, and drink heartily of that deep well that hath lusted these last few days for thine engorged attention. Thou shall drink of it, and attack it with thine golden lance, and fuck it until we overflow together in the combined fountain of our lust. Your lady in waiting, Wettanreddy." With that, Odo snatched his hand away and started spitting on it. After he could be seen wiping the appendage on both grass and dirt. "Begging your pardon, sir, but that was disgusting!" Longenhard lived up to his surname, and he was in a near swoon as he hurried behind the nearest tree to relieve the pressure blossoming from his groin. Afterwards, he returned to the trio of advisors, who had been watching the sensual discourse from a distance. Hadden looked uncomfortable as he asked, "Is everything well with you, sir?" "My friends, I am in love." Longenhard said, dreamily. "With Odo?" "No, you imbecile!" The old knight snapped. "With the maiden Wettanreddy! It was part of her message that she wished to be stroking me in that manner!" "Oh, well that's a great relief to the lot of us." Hadden released a deep breath. "Tell me, have any of you laid eyes on this lady?" Longenhard asked. "All I have is a minstrel's vague description, and Odo's, but the courier seems to have quite a few bats loose in the belfry. He seems competent, mostly, but I cannot be entirely sure about his powers of observation." Hadden shook his head. "I didn't know she even existed, until rumor got around that she'd been forcibly taken from old man Hearst's farm." "No idea even of her age? I assume that the lady is quite young, as she is reputed to be a maiden." "Sorry, I've no idea. All I know is that Hearst in an ancient bastard who never lets anyone inside his hovel." Hadden shrugged. "I'll ask my archers." Filmore stated. "And I my men." Hadden concurred. The four of them retreated into a command tent, where several candles provided adequate lighting for viewing Odo's stinky map deep into the night. They made a separate map outlining the area directly around the castle, and using the both of them, they developed several plans of attack, and several options to retreat if things got out of hand.