A Midsummer's Saga Pt. 06

The wounded who arrived later that afternoon seemed in pretty rough shape, some hauled in here on carts, too injured to ride. The men of the castle either helped them down or outright carried them to the chapel, where the monks and the castle's physician set up a temporary infirmary. There were maybe a dozen of them -- injured gravely enough to be sent away from the army, but not too gravely to travel the distance. Gabrielle watched them, bloodied bandages and grimaces of pain and all, and her joy at the Kontarian victory diminished somewhat. It would have made more sense if it was the sanctimonious assholes like Paula or the three young monks that tasted the war first-hand, not hapless low-born. But nothing to be done here.

As the last of the injured disappeared in the chapel, there was suddenly a hollow sound from the drawbridge. The people turned and stared.

Another cart was approaching the gatehouse. It was pulled by a single thin black horse. It was driven by a single thin old man. Its cargo was covered entirely with a shroud. A hush fell over the courtyard.

It passed the gate and stopped, with a squeak, on the grass.

Clement approached the cart's driver. He cleared his throat and gestured towards the shroud.

"Is that... the dead?" he asked.

The driver looked at Clement, with one eye; the other was overgrown with a cataract, white as dry bone, seeing nothing of this world. Presently, he opened his mouth to speak.

"Huh?" he said.

"Your cargo. Are they dead?"

"Sir, what are you talking about? It's the leftover fireworks from yesterday. Lady Paula never said what to do with them so the town council is sending them back hereways." He looked at the crowd around him. "Bad time?"

As Clement was ordering for the fireworks to be very carefully carried to a remote and relatively fireproof turret, Gabrielle sought out and exchanged a few words with the old soldier that was supposed to be guarding the oxcarts bound for the border forts. A few minutes later, making sure she wasn't being watched by anyone, she walked into the chapel garden.

*

Aerin spent the entire day walking in circles around his cell.

When he woke up, he enjoyed maybe two seconds of peace -- half-conscious confusion of the freshly awakened -- before his brain sparked and jumped to its foremost subject. Gabrielle, Gabrielle's eyes in the torchlight, Gabrielle's naked body pressed against his, Gabrielle's wet pussy tight around his cock. Then from the haze a flat cold thought emerged, that it was just a dream, that none of it had really happened. But as his mind floated out from sleep, the realization rushed in, a wave of thrill; no, it definitely happened. I swear man, it's in the real memory, not the dream memory. I fucked a princess, or got fucked by a princess, probably both, whatever, point stands!

When Dodo came down to check on him, Aerin greeted him with a broad smile and bid him an excellent morning indeed. The guard seemed a little out of sorts and only grunted in response. Aerin was amazed that he had never before noticed what a pleasant, good-natured man that Dodo was. He wished he'd met him under more fortunate circumstances.

For hours and hours he was driven insane by his confinement, replaying all that happened last night move by move, wondering when she'll be back, speculating what all of this meant for his potential freedom. For the first time in a while, he allowed himself some hope. Maybe he'd see home again. Home! How were they doing? Were they winning the war? Were they safe? His family? Leapfrog? Foy? Everyone?

By afternoon, his feet were aching from all the impatient pacing. He had to at least see her face again. He felt like he was about to snap. To take his mind off her, he sat down by the wall and tried to recount all the scouting routes in Kontaria, visualising them as they snaked around the forest.

He was just past the beech forest by the Red Hill when someone whispered his name. He looked up.

And here she was, dressed all in white, crouched to the bars of the window to his cell.

He felt that he failed to make his smile as cool and casual as he was aiming to.

"I was wondering when you'd show up," he said, walking over to the window.

"Impatient?"

"Er... just curious."

He stopped right below her, looking up. She cocked her head. She was looking at him the way she had yesterday. His face felt hot.

"You mean to tell me that you weren't fantasizing about me the entire day?"

He vigorously rubbed the back of his head. "What? No, only a bit. I'm a busy man, you know."

She smiled wider. "Well, won't interrupt your business then. Bye!"

With that, she crawled out of the window's niche and stepped out, disappearing from his view. A sudden fear took over him.

"No no no, wait!" He jumped and grabbed the bars, pulling himself up to the window. "Gabrielle!"

She leaned down from just beyond the niche's frame, and his scared face was now level with her triumphant, derisive, shit-eating grin. He smiled and looked away, exhaling. The girl was clearly evil. Delightfully evil.

"You were saying, boy?"

"I mean, it would be cool if you stayed."

"Then ask me nicely."

"Oh for fuck's sake." He enveloped the bars with his forearms and found a footing among the stones. "Please stay, Gabrielle. Pretty please?"

"Your royal highness."

"What?"

"You shall address your superiors with the appropriate titles, boy."

"Oh go suck a dick."

She burst out laughing. "Alright, you tried. I'll train you in proper conversation yet."

"Okay, okay. So far, your lessons on proper intercourse have been very enjoyable."

She bit her lip. "Yeah, haven't they."

He was maybe two feet away from her, face pressed to the bars. She wanted to reach out, touch him, kiss him. But for all the decidedly positive thoughts she had about him, there was a doubt in her mind that made her keep her distance. The greater part of her found it ridiculous that she thought this way, and yet she couldn't quite overrule it.

She didn't actually know him. She'd heard like a hundred words from him since they'd met. What if he tries to grab her? What, why would he now? So that he can choke her to death and avenge the invasion with a death in the royal family, or something. Who knows. What if Paula is right and Kontarians are all awful violent thugs, no matter how pleasant their voices and how hard and satisfying their cocks?

Small chance. But a chance nonetheless. Let's not get too close when his hands are unbound.

And so she stayed at the outer edge of the window niche, more than an arm's length away from the bars, and produced a book.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"As far as anyone who might be watching is concerned, I'm reading a book in the garden, like I sometimes do." She was now turned with her profile to him. "Hey, news from Kontaria came today. You guys are still kicking Titulus's ass."

"What?!" He said that louder than he should have, and Gabrielle nervously looked around her. "Alright! I knew the guys wouldn't fold to the bastard! What did you hear, exactly?"

She relied the whole story. He swung happily on his toes. "They'll do it. They'll fucking do it. Brecca, you glorious bastard!"

"Who's Brecca?"

"A chieftain. I'll tell you later. Hey, how long do you think we have to hold off before Titulus gets fed up and goes home?"

"Oh, I think he's practically finished."

"What! Why?"

She smiled and closed the book, looking to the sky. Seems like they were going to talk about politics on their first date. "Okay, I'll tell you about Kontaria's best asset in this whole war. It's not your cavalry, it's not your forests. You have something even better.

"So the thing is, Harmen is large. It takes like five days to relay a message from the capital to Behem -- more in bad weather. Further still is the border with Redona. It's all the way to the south, basically on the opposite side of the Kingdom from Kontaria.

"Redona is a powerful state, and the war we're fighting there is much larger than what's going on here. So the King and his court also went there, to the south, to watch over the situation closely. But this means he can't possibly oversee this war here, so far away from him. This is why he left one of his most trusted ministers in the north, to whom he has given his full royal authority to conduct the war in the King's name. That man now sits in a city about two days' ride south from here, getting signals from both Redona and Kontaria, and has instructions to withdraw Titulus and send him down south if only he judges it necessary. This minister is called Oren, he's the Duke of Haratraz and the King's old friend."

Now she looked straight at Aerin. "And listen, this is the good part. Oren is also an old enemy of Titulus. Different factions at court, bad blood going back decades. Titulus's famous victories have been pissing him off for years. He absolutely does not want to see him gain yet more glory in Kontaria. Now of course he's still loyal to the King, and the King himself is not stupid, he knows all of this, so Oren won't actively sabotage Titulus or anything. But he must be just itching for a justification to rush in, recall the army, settle a peace, and send Titulus humbled down to Redona where he's more needed. And our poor general friend has now fucked up twice. This invasion is dangling on a thread."

Aerin listened to all of this motionless, ignoring the growing stiffness in the foot that was bearing all his weight, wedged in a gap between two stone bricks. He'd always thought of this war, and all other wars, as settled out in the open between armed men in combat. These political considerations had so far escaped him.

"So if the King knows all this, then why did he pick that guy, Oren, to manage this war, out of all people?"

"There's like a thousand possible reasons. Political, strategic, personal. He could want to prevent Oren from sparring with other great nobles at war councils, while also keeping him away from the capital while he himself isn't there. He could want this war ended as soon as possible, successful or not, without himself appearing weak by calling it off. Or he could just be pissed off at Titulus, at Oren, or both. I'm far from good gossip now, it's really hard to tell."

"Did something similar happen sixteen years ago, when we fended off the previous invasion? Did we succeed because one of your guys disliked another one of your guys?"

"I don't know about that. Maybe. As a country gets mightier and its ability to defeat its enemies grows, so too grows its ability to defeat itself."

Fair enough, he thought. He changed his feet in the gap. Then he gathered his courage and asked the question which had been festering at the bottom of his mind for days.

"So, supposing we win the war, will they let me go?"

She twiddled her sleeve nervously. "Gods, no, they will not let you go, never. This is why I'll have to help you escape." He raised his eyebrows and said nothing. "Yeah, listen. Every ten days, a caravan with supplies leaves for the border forts towards Kontaria. The next one leaves tomorrow, but that's too soon for us. You're taking the one after. We'll hide you in a jute sack and hide the sack in the cargo. There are guards, but they are all old soldiers who don't pay much attention and are usually tipsy anyway -- the road to the forts is very safe. I talked with one of them. They always take the same route and take two full days and nights to reach their destination on the third morning. On the second night they set camp about ten miles away from the border. This is where you can sneak out. You can take some food from the carts themselves, and walk east. The forts are there to stop armies, a single person will slip by unnoticed. Once past them, you just keep going, and in two or three days you're in Kontaria."

He looked at her with newfound awe. "Shit. Yes, this is brilliant. I know that way, we followed it on the way here! But how will I get past Dodo?"

She cleared her throat. "That bit of the plan is still under construction. I need to come up with something that causes him no problems and doesn't implicate me in any way. But don't worry, we have ten days. I'll figure it out."

She suddenly turned away. A soldier was walking on the other side of the gnarly old junipers, just feet away from her. He passed, not noticing anything, and continued on his way towards the inner courtyard. Still, the start he gave her was noticeable. When she turned back Aerin saw her wide open eyes, parted mouth, and how heavily she breathed. This begged another question.

"Hey, Gabrielle... are you putting yourself in danger doing all of this?"

"No, not really," she said. There was a higher pitch to her voice that he did not like. He ran his fingers along the bars.

"What would they do to you if you got caught?"

"Well, they'd be pissed off. But they wouldn't murder me or anything. Nah, they enjoy slower sorts of punishment."

He watched her closely. Her whole body grew rigid now. There was something welled up inside her.

"You don't seem to like them, whoever they are."

"No."

"Are you here in Behem out of your own free will? Are you actually here to study?"

For a long while, she was silent. Damnit, she thought. Did it really show that much? No, said a giddy voice inside her, that's just Aerin. The boy is so clever and sensitive! Shut up. Should she tell him? Why not, actually? It's not like he was in any position to use this against her.

"No, I was sent here as a punishment. The ruler of this castle, Lady Paula, is kind of famous for being an uptight asshole, and my family thought she'd sort me out."

"Punishment for what? Why do you need sorting out?"

"I mean, one of my aunts caught me in kind of a compromising situation back at the capital."

"What compromising situation?"

Her eyes glittered. "For your information, she caught me with my mouth around the cock of a very handsome young man."

Aerin lost his footing and slid down the wall to the floor, laughing. Gabrielle hid her face in her palms, giving up and laughing as well. "This is not funny, you stupid dickhole! I almost gave that aunt a heart attack! Though hopefully she's at least learned to knock!"

Aerin wheezed, took a step back and looked up to the window. "Based on yesterday, I thought you knew what locks are for!"

"I mean, yeah." She flicked at her dress. "I have to wear white all the time here. It's the colour of chastity, see. Your cum looked very nice on it last night, I thought."

Aerin felt a pang of pride, and also of something else. "I'm always happy to give you more. Do you think you can... come over tonight?"

"Nah. It's difficult to get past Dodo..."

"Oh. Right."

"But I meant what I said. If only there's opportunity, I'll be all over you." She looked back towards the garden. It was getting late. "Okay, I need to go now." She crawled into the window niche and rested her hands on the bars. "But, um. Before I go, take your clothes off for me. I want to see you in a good light."

Aerin felt his face get hot again. He looked around. Eh. Sure.

The rags he was wearing were easy to slip out of. In a moment, he stood before her naked, delighted with the look of intent lust on her face.

"Amazing," she said. And it really was. That chest, those abs, that cock and those balls, those legs and arms, that shy and yet posturing smile -- mouth-watering, all the parts and the sum of them.

"Show me your tits," he ventured. "It's only fair, isn't it?"

She didn't even consider it, her hands went for the laces of her dress at once, and a short bout of fidgeting later she threw its fabric off her shoulders and her breasts were free in the air. She grabbed at them and jiggled them, looking at his cock, which responded happily, swelling, getting heavier. She leaned closer to give him a better look, pinched her nipples, licked her lips...

She thought she heard a sound behind her. She immediately readjusted her dress, pulled at the laces and crawled back out of the window. There was nobody behind her, just some birds scurrying through the bushes. Still, her heart hammered.

"What is it?" Aerin whispered.

"Nothing. I thought I heard somebody."

She gave him one last longing look. "I really got to go now. I'll be back tomorrow, same time. Think of me when you touch yourself. I know I'll think of you."

He smiled broadly. "Gods, you're so romantic."

She disappeared from his view. As she was leaving the garden, she thought on how unfair it was that he got to play with that cock when it was her that wanted it so badly.

He was meanwhile left standing in the middle of the cell, with a dumb smile on his face, said cock hard and risen in the air but with nowhere to go. He sighed, sat down, took it in his hand, and did just as she asked, thinking of her, her naked breasts fresh on his mind. He went at it slowly, with unhurried strokes, and in a few minutes reached a calm, gratifying orgasm, a tranquil release that left his muscles relaxed and him breathing deep.

He lay on his bedding, watching the eternally constant ceiling, and he was pretty sure nobody ever felt more blissful in a dungeon. He was going to get out. He just had to wait ten days and he could go home. And he would have a home to get back to! They were doing it, they were keeping Titulus away from the villages, they were so close to victory!

And somehow his happiness faltered and dwindled. He shifted around, now uncomfortable. What's that about?

From the back of his mind, thick thoughts oozed out.

They are fighting bravely in Kontaria, putting themselves in danger's way, together, doing good. In here, a beautiful and up to now carefree girl decides to put herself in danger just for you, planning and organizing your escape. And what about you? You got here because of a stupid and selfish act. You never should have gone into that camp, you were supposed to watch and report. You got yourself caught like an idiot. And look what you got out of it. All around you people are risking their lives, and you're just sitting here doing nothing all day, eating well, washing yourself with warm water, getting laid. And speaking of that, you didn't even have to satisfy the girl; she just tied you up and did all the work herself, you just needed to stand there with your dick up. "What were you doing during that famous Titulus invasion," a child will ask you one day many years from now. "I was hidden in a dungeon, mostly jacking off. The food was good." What kind of a person are you? What man?

The dungeon was very quiet. Outside, night was falling. Aerin lay unmoving.

Ah, fuck all that. Did he ask for any of this? Did he not suffer for his mistake? That's just a shitty way of thinking and it won't help with anything. Useless anxiety. He pressed his knuckles to the wall and ground them in, beyond the threshold of pain, until he felt nothing in them but faint tickling.

Useless.

He withdrew his hand and in its dark red joints his nerves came back to life, sending out a surge of superficial ache. He let it pass through him, gradually subduing, eventually diminishing to just a tingle as his skin returned to its normal colour. He took a deep breath. He wondered if Gabrielle was thinking of him. She was, in fact -- she was at the moment muttering his name, eyes closed and hips pushed forward and two fingers stuffed deep inside her -- but that he wouldn't know.

*

The next day took fifty years to reach the afternoon. The monks were all busy with the wounded, so Gabrielle did not go to the chapel -- much worse, she had to do hear reading in the corner of Paula's hall, and listen for hours as the lady vented and as Clement assented on all sorts of incomprehensibly stupid subjects. Aerin, all the while, was locked in with his thoughts, walking back and forth like an animal in a cage, amazed at how long a single day could be.