Grier the Sire

Denhaf met them by the riverside and led them to their camp. Grier was worse than he had been the previous night. The camp had a funereal air and the Danes stood around in silence, as though they were waiting for death. Mildrith put down her bag, knelt by Grier and put her hand on his brow. It was raging hot. He opened his eyes when he felt her touch and smiled.

"Ah, now I can die content," he said. "I asked Odin for one last look at my lady Mildrith and he has sent you to me."

"Hush, you stupid Dane," said Mildrith. "You're not going to die. Now roll over so I can see your wound."

Grier dutifully rolled over. Mildrith had a hard time not looking away, for the wound was deep and very messy. Putrid pus had begun to form and she knew that unless she drained it, it would kill him within days. Steeling herself, she set to work, cleaning it out and probing into it with her fingers. Grier's face was set in a mask of agony as her fingers pushed into his flesh. When she found the barb of the arrow, he could not help crying out, "Fuck, Mildrith! That hurt!"

"Hold still!" she said harshly.

In response, he held himself rigidly and his lips compressed in a thin line as he strove to bear the sharp spasms each time the barb moved under her fingers. Finally, she was able to get it between her thumb and forefinger and pulled it out. He cried out again, but then as the relief washed over him with the withdrawal of the barb, he smiled. She showed him the sharp piece of metal.

"I'd love to meet that English bowman over a pot of ale," he said. "We could face each other man to man with our fists."

"All you Danes think about is fighting," she said.

"And fucking," said Grier, grinning.

She did not respond, but made up a poultice from the herbs she had brought with her. She applied the poultice to the cleaned wound and bound it tight with silk streamers that she had taken from her wedding bed.

"There," she said. "Now we will let Mistress Time heal you."

"Come lie with me, Mildrith," he said, his voice low.

"Not with all your men here," she retorted.

"Denhaf, can you give us some privacy?" he called.

"Sure thing, Grier," said the giant shipmaster. "You heard him, men! Let's go upriver with some fishing lines. Fresh river fish will make a fine dinner."

The men rose, gathered some fishing lines, and followed Denhaf along the upriver path. Mildrith and Edwina looked after them, waiting till they were out of sight. Then Mildrith sat down by Grier gingerly, but he put an arm around her and pulled her into his embrace. She was used to his great strength and was surprised by how weak he was. He kissed her and she opened her mouth tentatively to accept his thick tongue. Edwina lay down on his other side, content to snuggle against his unwounded shoulder.

Grier untied the ribbons of Mildrith's bodice and she resisted, but only half-heartedly.

"You are dressed like you are going to a ball," he whispered.

"I dressed for myself, not you," she countered, but her tone was mild.

He spread her bodice, then undid the laces of her red chamois bustier and gathered her plump, naked breasts, one in each hand. He saw the angry bruises and red bite marks and looked into Mildrith's big, green eyes. She saw his blue eyes turn icy and her face took on an expression of shame.

"I am sorry I am so disfigured, sir," she said. "I know you must be disgusted by how ugly my body has become. Allow me to cover myself again -- "

In response, he bobbed his head and kissed her nipples, then sucked on them gently, whilst very gently kneading her breasts. Her nipples grew thick and hard under his ministrations, making the bruising and discoloration even more prominent. After several minutes of tending to her breasts with his hands and mouth, he looked up at her face. She looked uncharacteristically timid.

"What has that beast done to you, Mildrith?" said Grier. "Surely he has not broken your spirit?"

"No," she replied, softly. "But he is too strong for me. I cannot stop him from hurting me." Her voice trembled and tears formed in her eyes. "When I fight him, it only prolongs the torture, for he delights in subduing me by force. So I lie still, allow him to have his way, and cry out only when the pain grows unbearable. Fortunately, he has grown bored of hearing my screams."

"You are a precious English rose," he said. "Burke is a cowardly dog. I will make sure he never touches you again."

There was a catch in his voice that tugged at her heart.

"No, no, Grier. You are wounded and weak. Rest and heal, then sail away. I am not your problem. You will find easier pickings to the north. Tunbridge is powerful and Ealdorman Hollis and Leofric will hunt you down if you do anything to Burke."

Grier did not respond, but held her. Eventually, he was unable to suppress his natural reaction to the feeling of her firm breasts and hard nipples against his chest -- and she felt his manhood grow rampant through her skirts and petticoats. She was conscious of Edwina snuggling against Grier's back, but she felt no jealousy. For while Grier enjoyed being sandwiched between the two girls, his attention was obviously centered on Mildrith.

"I must leave you, Grier," she said. "Burke will be back around nightfall. "I must be there to receive him. He is lunching at Litchfield and is likely to bring a party back with him."

"The good Sheriff of Litchfield," mused Grier. "And Lady Ardith."

"That you had sex with," snapped Mildrith. "On the dining table for all to see."

Grier looked uncharacteristically abashed.

"I drank too much in the festivities after we sacked the castle," he said. "It was wrong of me." He recovered his composure. "I do not regret fucking her, for she was mine, her husband could not defend her. But I should not have done it publicly and humiliated her. That was uncalled for."

"You think defeating a man in battle entitles you to his wife?"

"It entitles me to all his property. Including his wife."

"I am not any man's property!" exclaimed Mildrith.

Grier put his hand on her cheek and kissed her nose.

"No," he whispered. "You are a special woman. You should be a princess, a queen."

Mildrith smiled and ran her fingers through his thick, black hair.

"You are a Danish scoundrel," she said, her tone turning indulgent. "Flattering me will not change my opinion of you."

* * * *

7. The dinner went on even longer than Mildrith feared. Burke brought back not only Sheriff Guy of Litchfield and Lady Ardith, but their two-year-old son, her nursemaid and ten of the sheriff's gentlemen. The stores at Newhaven Fort were not sufficient to meet the requirements of such a large dinner and Burke sent men down to Newhaven village to ransack the baker, the fishmonger, and the miller, bringing up a heaping cartload of ingredients as well as all the ale that the public house had in stock.

Two of the village men who had some musical talent were pressed into service with their fiddles and there was dancing in between courses. Women were scarce, for only Mildrith, Ardith and the nursemaid were of gentle breeding, and the men took turns to dance with them.

Burke was heavy footed and trod on Mildrith's toes several times. Sheriff Guy was hardly better. Even that was preferable to one of Burke's younger gentlemen, who let his hands stray and took liberties on the dancefloor -- Burke was either too drunk, or simply did not care, she did not know which. She tried to push away his grasping hands, as he squeezed her breasts and pushed his fingers up between her buttocks. She was shocked by how much intimacy he was able to gain through the layers of her skirts and petticoats and the final shield of her panties.

"I can feel your cunt, you Danish whore," he whispered in her ear. "You're wet for me, aren't you? I know that you want it. Burke told us how you buck when he rides you with his cock up your ass."

Mildrith did not reply, but continued to struggle to dislodge his fingers. She was heartily relieved when the music ended and the next course was served, requiring him to reluctantly release her. She returned to her seat by Lady Ardith, who was sitting demurely by her husband. She was an attractive woman about five years older than Mildrith, in her early twenties. She was higher born than her husband, the daughter of an ealdorman from Mercia and looked less than pleased with everything that she saw at Newhaven Fort.

The nursemaid was from around Litchfield, the daughter of a gentleman farmer. Now she handed the babe to her mistress saying, "Lady Ardith, young Harry is hungry again."

Ardith clicked her tongue in annoyance.

"Hand me my shawl," she said. "I will cover myself and feed him right here, I will not let this lamb shank grow cold while I feed him in another room."

The nursemaid handed Ardith a wool shawl and she draped it over her upper body before undoing her bodice and underbodice to free her breasts. Mildrith was too close to avoid seeing the young boy -- for he was too big to be called a babe -- eagerly cuddle his mother's breasts and say, "Want tit!" before taking a pink nipple in his mouth and sucking greedily. Ardith let him work on her breasts one at a time, while she leaned over him and ate her lamb as delicately as she could.

"This is lamb is quite delectable, Lady Mildrith," she said. "I did not think you could have such fine cooking in this rough fort of yours.'

"My maid Edwina has been helping our cook," replied Mildrith. "She is good at basting and broiling. And we grow some very fine mint here."

"Well, give her my compliments," said Ardith.

Mildrith tried to avoid staring, but she had a hard time keeping her eyes off Ardith's son who was still energetically sucking at her breasts. His jet black hair, his blue eyes and his face were such miniature replicas of Grier that it was impossible to doubt his paternity. The question rose to her lips several times and each time she bit it back. But finally, as the lamb was cleared away and the fiddlers returned, she could no longer control herself. She leaned over and whispered in Ardith's ear.

"How many times did you sleep with Grier?"

Ardith's eyes grew hot with anger.

"How dare you, you hussy!" she hissed back. "Everyone is talking about how you were happy to become a Danish whore. Don't think every woman is like you."

"Your boy is a spitting image of him," Mildrith insisted, too bound up in her line of questioning to care. "You may deny it to everyone, but not to me. I beg you to help me."

Sheriff Guy had risen and was waiting impatiently for his wife as the fiddlers had begun playing a reel.

"My lord sheriff," called Ardith to her husband. "Pray, ask the musicians to wait a few moments. I must finish feeding our son."

"Very well," said Guy with bad grace. He led the gentlemen to the other side of the hall, where kegs of ale were stacked.

"What do you want?" asked Ardith in a low tone, once the men moved away.

"I am not a Danish whore, for I fought Grier as hard as I could," said Mildrith. "And I killed two of his men. But it is true that I did sleep with him. He was in my bed for many long weeks. And now I carry his child. I am several months into my pregnancy and soon it will be impossible to conceal it. I am already showing, but I have loosened my gown to hide my rounded belly. I beg of you to tell me how you dealt with your husband through your pregnancy and when your son was born."

Ardith's face was wooden, but it softened as Mildrith spoke.

"Have you slept with Burke after they retook Newhaven? Has he spurted his seed in you?"

"Yes, of course," said Mildrith, unwilling to go into the details of her nightly bouts with her husband.

"Men have fragile egos," said Ardith. "They are willing to suspend disbelief to an extraordinary degree if it preserves their manly pride. Guy knew full well that Grier had his way with me, for he once took me publicly on our dining table. He was in my bed every night for a week -- long nights, for he had sex with me again and again! The man is an insatiable animal! Then he sailed away, his ships laden with booty from Litchfield."

Her voice grew harder as she spoke.

"Afterward, I had to fawn on Guy for weeks, getting him to sleep with me as often as possible. I kept telling him that he is more of a man than Grier, that his seed would impregnate me. That he would wash the Danish seed out of me with his manhood."

Mildrith tried to keep a straight face, but she failed. A grin split her face and she covered her mouth to stifle her giggle.

"If your sex with Grier was anything like mine," she said. "He must have ejaculated an enormous amount of his seed deep into you every night. "This is his son, there can be no doubt."

"Yes, he is Grier's son," acknowledged Ardith. "But Guy's pride is invested in believing that he is a Litchfield. And I help him out, continually pointing out features that the boy has inherited from him and from his Litchfield forebears."

"So you advise me to tell Burke that I am pregnant? And claim that I am carrying his child?"

"Yes, dear. You will be surprised how easy it will be to convince him that he has impregnated you. He will want to believe it, and the more you praise his manhood, the easier it will be."

The boy had finished with Ardith's second breast and fallen asleep. The nursemaid took him and laid him down in the crib by the wall. As she covered him with the wool blanket, Ardith refastened her underbodice and bodice. The musicians warmed up on their fiddles. Ardith and Mildrith stood up and beckoned to the men across the room.

"Tell me," whispered Mildrith to Ardith. "Do you miss him?"

Ardith looked so angry that Mildrith thought she was going to slap her. Then her face crumpled and she looked down at her feet.

"Yes," she said, so low that Mildrith had to strain to hear her. She continued more quickly, as her husband and the other men approached. "He pounded me like his nickname -- he used his rod like a battering ram! I reacted like a madwoman and the climax was always explosive! But afterward he held me tenderly and made me feel like I was the most beautiful woman on earth. I miss lying with him more than I can say."

* * * *

8. Burke leaned on Mildrith heavily as she led the way to their bedchamber. Edwina had ensconced herself in her maid's chamber with her ear to the keyhole as usual. No sooner were they in the bedchamber than Burke began fumbling with Mildrith's gown. When he was unable to undo her bodice quickly, he drew his dagger and sliced the ties, getting the point dangerously close to her skin.

"Don't do that, Burke," cried Mildrith in dismay. "I'll undo it, I'll undress myself for you."

He did not reply, but clubbed her at the base of the skull, knocking her on to the bed, where she lay on her stomach, stunned for the moment. He undid his belt, dropped his breeches and clambered on her back, rucking up her skirts and petticoats. His rough hands snaked under her and found her crotch. He ground his fist on her pussy lips before hooking his fingers in her panties and ripping them off.

"Oh, Burke, oh, oh!" cried Mildrith. "Those were my best lace panties, they were brought over from France!"

"You shouldn't wear panties, you whore!" snarled Burke, positioning his erect cock between her buttocks.

"Please, Burke, not there again! Please give me your seed! I want your organ in me!" implored Mildrith.

Burke's cockhead was at her anal ring, but her words gave him pause.

"You want my seed?" he repeated.

"Yes! Yes! Every time you have driven your semen into me, it has been intoxicating! You are such a virile man!"

Burke hesitated, then moved his cockhead down to her pussy and pushed unceremoniously into her pussy doggie style. His modest dimensions did not excite her, but she cried out, "Oh, you are such a strong man! Fuck me, Burke! Fuck me hard!"

Burke needed no further encouragement. He began thrusting into her with all his might. She kept up a constant stream of flattery.

"Yes, Burke! Oh my God! You are such a bull of a man! Nothing can resist your manhood! Your seed has already sprouted in me! You've bred me, but I want more!"

Burke lasted all of six thrusts and ejaculated his load into her. He lay on her exhausted and sweaty and soon passed out. She waited till he shriveled and plopped out of her, then slid out from under him. She smoothed down her petticoats and skirts and fussed ruefully over the sliced ribbons of her bodice. She tried to refasten them, but soon gave up and let it hang open. She plumped her breasts under her red underbodice and picked up her ripped panties from the floor.

"Ruined!" she murmured to herself. "Bloody well ruined! What a savage you are, Burke!"

She heard a soft cough and looked up sharply. Grier emerged from the shadows and advanced. He put his arms around her and sank down on the bed beside her. She saw that he was at the limit of his strength and that his knees had given way.

"What are you doing here, Grier?" she whispered urgently. "How did you get in? Are you insane? They will kill you!"

"Climbed the stockade wall," he said, trying to suppress his wheezing and sound normal. "I came to see you -- to ask you to be mine."

"I can't do that!" Mildrith cried. "What will I do on your ship? You refused to take Edwina when she asked you!"

"I am going to give up raiding, Mildrith," he said.

"You would do that for me? What of your men? What would you do? You have no trade."

"I have spoken to my men. They are tired of raiding as well. The weeks in Newhaven were a balm for them -- they want to settle down."

"Where will you settle down?" Mildrith's tone was sarcastic. "Denmark?"

"England," said Grier quietly.

"You think we English will give you Danes land? After what you have done to us?"

"I will not ask for it," said Grier. "I will take it. And bend the knee to King Edward as an Ealdorman."

Mildrith almost laughed out loud.

"Why would King Edward name an invading Dane an Ealdorman?"

"Because, like all kings, he needs strong nobles to protect his lands and collect his taxes. Especially Tunbridge and Newhaven."

Finally, she began to see his meaning. And now she did laugh.

"You would challenge my father-in-law Ealdorman Hollis, for Tunbridge? With your four puny ships and two hundred men? Do you realize how many men-at-arms he can raise? And how powerful Tunbridge Castle is? You ran from him when he came to Newhaven, you will have no chance of taking his castle."

"Leave the fighting to me," said Grier. "All I ask is that you come to my side if I win. With our child."

"You know that I am pregnant?" she asked surprised. "Did Edwina tell you?"

"No," said Grier, smiling. "The swell of your belly is slight, but you have such a narrow waist that it is obvious to anyone with eyes in his head."

Behind them, Burke groaned and sat up on the bed.

"My head!" he grumbled, eyes still unfocused. "You shouldn't have tempted me into sex, you bitch, I'll beat you for this ... "

His voice trailed off as he saw Grier. Several things happened at once. Burke leaped of the bed and grabbed his sword. He pulled up his breeches and shouted for help at the same time. Grier stood as quickly as he could, but he was unsteady on his feet. He drew his sword, but in his weakened state, he was very slow. In the time Burke got his breeches on and his sword out, Grier barely managed to get on guard.

Even so, Burke approached him warily, and continued to shout for help. Boots pounded up the steps, the bedchamber door was flung open and two burly men-at-arms rushed in.

"Disarm him and bring him to me," said Burke, much calmer now that he knew he would not have to fight. "I want to kill this Danish swine very slowly."

Grier backed away from the men-at-arms and from Burke, keeping a wary eye on both. The men-at-arms were stolid and unemotional; they approached him in a practiced manner, working together as a team. Meanwhile, Burke put his left arm around Mildrith's neck, continuing to hold his sword in his right.