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“I would rather walk.”
I decide after being on a horse for so long. In the end, we all walk, and Christian leads his horse while holding my hand. He stops me if I get more than a step away from him.
“You have to stay in hiding and protect yourself and your child.” Neo speaks in a low voice. “This child is important to our kind. When they came for your family, there was nothing anyone could do except hope that one of you got away. We cannot win a war with the Christians. Not until we can unite the tribes.”
“A war with the Christians? Is that even possible?”
“It could be.” Neo says. “The tribes are wasting precious time warring among themselves when the church is coming for our land and women. The Cardinal is dishonoring the treaties. They are killing entire family lines, Maeve. They enslaved the fishing tribes and have taken their boats for the church. Those who convert are forced to fight in the Christian army. Refuse and you are executed. The women are raped and enslaved. My infant cousin was burned for a small mark on her hand. A woman tending her birth turned in her mother for a coin. They burn women for adultery when a married man rapes them. They are no better than plagued rats.”
I am horrified. “Can the tribes win a war against the church?”
“If we all unite as one, I believe we can. If the woodsmen come down from the trees and the diggers come up from the valley’s, it is possible. Christian’s are slow in their heavy armor and chain mail. They do not know this land the way we do. We can drive them back and keep them out. There is even a whisper of assassinating the Cardinal and marching on the king himself. The king has spies planted in the very heart of the church and the palace awaiting the signal. This gives us hope. It is bringing leaders to the table for a sit-down.”
I feel Christian stiffen beside me. They have spies in his home who want to kill his father, and why would they not? He is the breeder of sadists, and the main supporter of the church. His sons are on campaign right now killing under the banner of the Cardinal. I squeeze his hand to let him know that I understand what it feels like to have your parent hunted down and murdered. His hand loosens in mine before he releases it. The old bastard is still his father, and he loves him. I feel contrite and reach for his hand again. If my thoughts offend you so, stay out of my head. He turns away and pushes his hair back. I get a taste of what it would feel like if he ever turned me away.
“Lucky for the church, we have a long way to go before we will be marching on anyone. Sebastian Lockton and Anthony Barber are fighting each other. Now that their fathers are dead, they can raid each other as much as they want.”
“They always fought as children.”
“You remember that?”
“How can I forget? They fought over my sister every other day.” I reminisce fondly. Neo smiles.
“We all fought over Beth-Ann.” He says with a chuckle. “Where did they send you?”
“Away.” I tell him. “Where I am on my way to.”
“You ought not be walking about with this outsider, Mae. It is not safe. We cannot trust anyone with a secret as big as you.”
“My husband is very capable.” I assure him.
“Very capable.” Christian says from behind me.
I smile over my shoulder at him and he takes my hand bringing it to his lips. I blush like a new bride.
“Where did you say you were from again?”
“I never said.” Christian is rude.
“The far-east?” Neo repeats my lie. “You look like a fancy Christian with your fine clothes and good boots.”
“Having money is not a crime. Would you rather see her wed to a poor thief like yourself?”
“I am neither poor nor a thief, Smith.”
Neo does not take being called a thief lightly. I am surprised he does not call him out for the slight. So long as the Beaumont stops insulting him, no one has to die today.
“Your merry band of smelly idiots set upon us like robbers. You are surely a thief.”
“I thought you were dirty Christian’s.” Neo’s lip turns up and his nose scrunches in disgust. “I was going to kill you, not rob you.”
Neo and Christian are fighting soon after meeting. They exchange unpleasantries all the way to camp. Neo’s camp is a collection of leaning tents and bedrolls on the ground. Livestock is running free between the dwellings. The urge to cover my face is strong. It looks and smells like an unkempt barnyard.
“This is your camp?” The Beaumont makes a face. I groan in misery. “It is no wonder so many of your men are coughing. This is disgusting, and it does not surprise me one bit.”
“Mine is the best camp in a hundred miles, Smith. I would not insult my host if I was you.”
“You are not me, pagan.” The Prince says arrogantly. “We are not camping here with these swine shitting everywhere. We will pay you for food and camp in the woods. Your water is most-likely fouled.”
Neo does not deny his fouled water. Christian is not used to living under these conditions.
“What do you know about leading two-hundred men, pretty boy? It is not as easy as it looks.”
The Butcher laughs in his face but bites his tongue. Hundreds? He leads thousands of men.
“We will take our food and be on our way.”
“You insult me and my men with that talk. This is a fine camp.”
“My husband is a wealthy merchant’s son. He is used to fine things. Sell us the food and we will go. I am tired and hungry.”
“If the pigs bother your fancy husband so much, use the empty scouting dwelling to the north. You will find it under the biggest tree and away from my disgusting camp. It might be difficult to find at first but its easy once you see the giant oak. I am sure that a man of your husband’s weak constitution will be more comfortable there.”
“How far north?”
Christian ignores Neo’s barb. If I was not here, Neo would be on his back. He would die for daring to compare him to a woman.
“A half mile upstream.” Neo passes Christian a heavy bundle wrapped in cloth. Christian flips him a gold piece. “You are safe here and you both look as if you can use a good night’s rest. We will hide her at the risk of death.”
“Your loyalty is commendable.”
“As is yours, Smith. I will send for you when it is time to leave.”
Neo extends his dirty, brown hand. His dark eyes are cold and untrusting. He knows the other man would rather fight him than shake his hand. The Prince shakes it for me.
We follow the stream searching for the biggest tree. It is not hard to find. The trap-door is a different story. It is well-hidden in the leaf and moss-covered ground. It is dark in there and quiet. Christian gets a candle and matches from his pack. He lights it and grasps his sword before entering. He pokes his bright head out a moment later.
“This will do.”
My lover steps outside and glances up at the darkening sky. “It looks like more rain. I will bring our things in and put my horse to pasture. He is too obedient to leave without me. Come inside and rest.”
The dug-out house is built into the hill under the tree and not in the tree itself. It is not very large, but there is a bed and small fireplace. There is a clean slop-pot and a pail for water. The packed-dirt floor is smooth-hard from use and the smell of damp is expected. Christian brings in his packs first and my satchel. He takes the pail and our water bags when he leaves again. I sit on the bed, which is no more than rope strung across a wooden frame. It is better than the wet ground. Or it will be when I cover it with a blanket. I touch the dirt walls in wonder. How does it stay so hard? It smells like earth in here and old fires. The cast-iron pot hanging over the swept hearth has been scrubbed clean. Why is this place taken care of and not the camp? After I spread Christians blanket over the netting and set our things aside, I open the food bundle and smile. Neo was a pest, but he was always kind to me. We have a hank of smoked pork, cheese, bread, eggs boiled hard in their shells with a sack of dry oats and a small jar of honey. What is this? A bag of precious coffee beans. The Christian will appreciate a cup. I stand up when he walks in with the water. He pours some of the pail into the wash bowel.
“It is not a bath, but it will do for now. We can leave the door open to let in a breeze.”
“Thank you.” I say as he builds a fire under the pot and pours in a portion of our water to heat. He starts stripping off his heavy leather vest and weapons. I watch in appreciation when he pulls his tunic over his head and hangs it over an old chair. I bite my lip when he pushes his fitted breeches down over his muscled thighs. Christian smiles when he catches me watching him.
“I saw the way you were looking at your childhood beau today. What is his name again? Dickanemus?”
“You know his name.” I smile at his petty jealousy. “Nicodemus and I fought more than any other children.” I say thoughtfully. “It was Sebastian Lockton who I watched out of the corner of my eye. He was the one that I daydreamed about.”
“What kind of man names his son Sebastian?”
“Sebastian is a fine name.” I feel defensive for him. “What kind of man names their son Christian?”
“A King.” He says splashing water on his handsome face and chest.
“Anyway, Sebastian is off fighting with his neighbors.”
“Why is he fighting with his neighbors?”
“These family feuds go back generations, Christian. Sometimes it is over land boundaries, women, or missing sheep. It has been going on for so long that I doubt if they remember themselves.”
“That is why they will all fall.” He predicts with a confidence that makes me believe him. “The church will come, and they will raze their homes in the name of God. If the barbarians have any hope of pushing them back, they will need each other to succeed. After you are safely hidden, I will ride home to warn my father of their intent. If they are uniting and building an army, he needs to know. We must prepare the city for war.”
“You cannot go back now. They will know you a traitor, and you will never be allowed across the border again. I am wanted by the church. There is no choice for me but to flee. I want you to come with me. You told me that you want to be with me, Christian.”
“I will come back for you, Maeve. I give you my word. I will be back before your belly pokes out. I would not miss that for anything.”
Christian picks up a cake of my mint soap and sniffs it before he starts lathering it in a wet cloth. He washes his dusty face first and neck, I watch as he scrubs his muscular arms. He rubs the soapy water over his hard chest and down his rippling belly. My nipples peak and I get that tingling feeling in my cunt. I cannot stop wanting to fuck him.
“You have to stop calling it a cunt.” He says out of the blue. “Where in the hell did you hear that word anyway? It is lewd and unattractive.”
“On the docks.” I say frowning. “What should I call it? Is there another word?”
I do not want to be unattractive. My innocence brings a smile to his face.
“There are plenty of words, my lovely temptress.” I love his smile. “There is womanhood, and lotus flower, or your woman’s center. Name it kitty if you want but stop calling it a fucking cunt.” He says frowning. “It makes my cock hard.”
“Why do they call it a lotus flower?”
“What were you doing on the docks?” He asks instead of answering. “It is no place for a woman alone.”
“I used to sneak into the city sometimes to barter with sea men.”
“Fuck, Maeve. You could have been stolen. What were you thinking?”
“I never worried about seeing my family or being recognized.”
“You are lucky to be alive. I never want to hear about you being on the docks again. I will lock you in your room if I do.”
“I can take care of myself. My mother would not have left me if I could not survive alone. I came down the moment I heard they were taken.”
“How did you know?”
“They sent word.”
“How? It was a week’s walk from their border village and you were alone.”
“Pigeons.”
“Pigeons?”
“Yes, they are birds.”
“I know what they are, but I did not know that witches use them to communicate.”
“Another secret to help you kill us?” I ask him. “I will be more careful with my tongue.”
He rinses the cloth and soaps it up again before washing his soft cock and balls. He washes his ass and rinses the cloth again for another once-over. His cock is so small when he is not fucking me with it. How does it grow so big? My eyes get wide when it hardens. I want to touch it with my hands and have it in my mouth again. I wonder if other women enjoy it as much as I do?
“Good Christian women would never let me see them naked, let alone suck my cock.”
“Why not?” I ask him. “Do they not enjoy it?”
He curses again like I am saying something wrong.
“Because it is a carnal sin.” Christian dries himself and pulls on his clean breeches. “Women are whipped or hanged for committing indecent acts.”
“You never told me it was wrong.”
“It felt too good to stop you.” He walks over to me and takes my hair in his hands. “Suck it again, Maeve. Open your mouth for me.” Christian rubs the hard bulge between his legs against my face. “You want to do it.”
“I do.” I admit, kissing it through the dark hose clinging to his fine body. I kiss it again.
“You make me so hard, Princess.” He whispers as he dry-fucks my lips.
That is what it means to fuck with our clothes on, he said. His hose separate my lips from what I want. I want to taste his skin. I pull it out myself and close my plump lips around it. Christian groans [when] I swirl my tongue around the head. I work my mouth over him until his seed fills my mouth and slides down my throat. I swallow it wondering if he thinks I am going to his hell for doing so. The Prince squeezes the last pearly drop from the tiny hole at the end of his cock. I lick it away with my curious tongue.
“That was wonderful, Maeve.” Christian wipes my face with a clean cloth. “You are everything that I would ask of God.” His voice is gentle. “Minus a good name.”
We share a smile over his insult. Someone pounds on the door before it is thrown open.
“We are under attack.” Neo gasps as he fights for breath. “They are searching for Mae. Keep her hidden. Keep her safe.”
“Is it the church?” The Beaumont demands. We both want to know.
Neo shakes his head. “No, they are witch hunters.” He wipes the sweat from his brow. “The Bloodtakers.”
“Vampires?” Christian whispers in disbelief.
