The Bastard; Loyal to One Ch. 03

Hi there,

It has been awhile. I had planned to submit this story three weeks ago, however due to the holidays and upcoming exams it, unfortunately, got delayed a bit.

The editing has been done by Sofie. (Thank you very much X)

Please enjoy the story.

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"Our bowstrings are going to be useless after this," Francis stared gloaming in to the rain. "How much longer do we have to wait? I'm drenched."

"We are all wet, and so is the road," Marvin answered. "And you heard the good man, twenty more minutes. I don't even know why I'm telling you this, you were next to me when he reported, so unless you've got something else besides complaints and useless questions, please shut up."

For a while they suffered the rain in silence, then Francis spoke again.

"Marvin, didn't you say they would be heavily guarded?"

"Yes, that is what I said."

"So you were wrong. The scout said he counted twelve."

"And you render it impossible that they have hidden guards? Let's say inside the cards? There is a reason our lord has chosen me to lead this ambush."

"What are you impl..."

"Be quite," Marvin shot Francis a hard glance, is blue eyes fierce and cold. Then he moved his eyes back to the road, Francis mouth was still open left in mid-sentence, it looked like he wanted to say something, but then decided it to be wiser to shut his mouth.

They waited, and Marvin relaxed, his breathing steadied. Francis had been right, the strings of their bows would be useless after this day, but Marvin didn't care, he always made sure to have enough in reserve. Unlike many archers in the kingdom he favored a small supple bow. Although its scope wasn't more than ninety yards and an accurate shot above sixty was almost impossible, arrows could be shot in an immense rate, combining that with its more manageable size made it superior in close quarters, like woodland or cities. And should he need one far range shot, he always could rely on the much bulkier yet more precise crossbow.

They had laid the ambush on the food of a little slope, the everlasting rain had made it a hard task to decent from it and the guards would have their hands full just getting the cards down safely thus hopefully be to occupied to spot the impending raid.

More than the estimated twenty minutes had gone by but they came at last, first three riders. They looked, wet, miserable, and tired their shoulders hung deep under the fatigue of the day, the poor state of the roads had more than halved the travel speed of the cards and it would be long after dark when they could see a warm bed, only to be chased out of after too short hours of sleep. All in all they perfectly good reasons to be in a bad mood and a steep muddy slope wasn't something which would brighten their day. Little did they know how much worse it would get.

After them came the first card and this spurted them to move again. Marvin's calmness flickered, it didn't surprise him that he was nervous. He never liked to work with others, and now he had to rely on young half trained farmer boys and too old veterans. The plan shouldn't be too complicated but you never know. Still there was nothing he could do at this point but wait and hope. He knew it was out of his hands, he had made a plan and he had instructed them, now only Luck could influence the outcome.

Slowly the wagons crept down the slope, very carefully as to prevent the horses from slipping. The scout had been right, twelve men. First three on the horses next three wagons with each one teamster and one passenger then in the vanguard three more riders. All of them wearing that tired and empty gaze which you couldn't help after sitting in the cold rain for hours. Pondering how in Luck's name you've gotten this assignment, while the wetness freezes you to the bone.

As the first three men passed Marvin got a hold of himself, he was back to a steady breathing and his deadly calmness. Unlike Francis who clearly was nervous and skittish. Although Marvin had rather seen him not having a bow, half convinced he would let go too soon and mess up the ambush, but it had been impossible to forbid the squire to carry one.

Slowly the first of three cards rolled by, the horses laboring to keep the wheels moving in the ankle deep mud. Then a loud cracking sound followed by dull bang shook up men and animal. A tree had fallen, conveniently blocking the road, on this cue a flight of arrows and bolts emerged from the tree line killing ten guards in a clean sweep. A horseman, missed by the deadly projectiles, spurted his mount forward to jump the road block, as it wasn't a high obstacle, the horse jumped it graciously, however its rider was lifted out of the saddle and with an already broken neck he fell on the ground.

An arrow from Marvin's bow finished of the last survivor. After the brief seconds of shouting and screaming it seemed quiet, only the nervous sorting of the horses and the moaning of one or two men who weren't that death yet disturbed the tranquility. Cautiously Marvin emerged from dense undergrowth, on all sides men followed his lead.

"You there. Can you ride?" the young men Marvin spoke to looked pale and confused, but then he nodded. "Ok then grab one of the horses and catch the one that got away, but beware of the string, or we will have two lonesome horses on the road."

"Spearmen on your marks!" six men carrying long pikes moved behind the canvas clad wagons, then they looked expecting to their commander, who nodded. On this the men started to stab ferociously in to the wagons beds, surprised and pained screams came from behind the covers. Suddenly a bolt struck one men in the neck; he fell blood gurgling to the ground.

"Surrender, surrender. We surrender." Marvin told his men to stop and shouted. "Come out of the wagons and hold your hands up!"

Seven men came forward, hands held in the position they were ordered in.

"Are there anymore inside?" All shook their heads in denial.

"You there check the wagons. You and you strip the prisoners of their weapons and then take the prisoners the side of the road." The men had been standing around dazed but started moving as Marvin shouted his orders. Some he ordered to clear the road, others to tend to the horses or strip and move the corpses.

Then he turned around and walked towards the frightened prisoners, he gave them a short look.

"Kill them," the men started to weep and to cower.

"What you can't kill them! They surrendered! Honour says they are our prisoners," Francis wild ranting was cut short. While Marvin was still looking into Francis direction, his knife had been buried in a prisoner neck. An artery was served and while the man still sat right up blood squirted out in small intervals, when the red touched ground and mixed with the muddy brown it resulted in one of the vilest colours nature had to offer. Bewildered Francis looked at the dying man who lived out his life as a macabre human fountain.

"I don't give a bloody dammed thing about your honor. We don't have the resources for prisoners," then he looked at Nico the old veteran gave a small nod. Marvin walked away behind he heard one of the prisoners starting the cry he had a wife and a child then he was quiet as the world counted one more widow.

*****

"My victorious heroes," with his arms wide open Robert welcomed Francis and Marvin in to the cave. "I assume all went well? How many losses"

"Yes, m'lord everything went accordingly; just one dead on our side. I think his name was Herrid or Jarrid, something like that."

"Gerrid, such a good man. I'll have to tell Cast that his brother died. Although it's very sad, only one loss is impressive, it could have been worse. How many weapons did we obtain?"

"About that I'm sorry sire, but there were no weapons other than those the guards carried on them." Marvin had contain himself not to punch that smug grin of Francis face.

"What? None? You just said all went according to plan, what kind of game are you playing?" the lord barked.

"The raid went perfectly, but the cargo was, well, not what we had expected."

"When not weapons, what was the cargo?"

"Wine, m'lord, and a liquor which Nico called verge."

"Wine and verge? What are supposed to do with that?"

"Drink it," Francis had been enjoying this embarrassment, but now he looked utterly shocked by Marvin's boldness.

"What did you say? Drink it?" Robert couldn't believe the insolence he witnessed. "Are you trying to make fun of me Marvin? A good man died today, and you're trying to be witty?"

"No, m'lord. I'm not making fun of you," Marvin said in his meekest voice, but his gaze was stern. "I propose we should drink it. The first party will leave us tomorrow, let's celebrate the start of a successful campaign."

"But we can't let them get drunk, they are nervous and we can't risk to let things turn sour on the last day," he had been silent for the whole time, but now Francis feared that Marvin would steer his failure in favorable light. "My lord. Don't listen to this commoner, he knows nothing."

"Yes they are nervous and they ought to be, many of them will be dead by next turn. But today we had a beautiful victory, let them celebrate it with drunkenness and debauchery, show them what they are fighting for. It would also be the perfect time for a rousing speech, these things wonders to the moral."

"Yes, I see wisdom in what you're saying," the lord said hesitating. "Let's them have their drinking and I think I could say a few words."

"Robert! You can't be serious." Francis' grin had completely vanished.

"Yes Francis, I'm serious!" then his stern look was broken by a grin. "And maybe it gives you to a chance to learn to like each other, he might be a commoner but he has a noble's tong. Now get yourself some dry clothes, you're dismissed I'll see to the unpacking of the cards."

Everything was dancing; the people; the fire; and with the combination of both the shadows. It was warm in the communal cave, a warmth much inviting by its contrast to the chill of the night, which reined just beyond the mine's entrance. There was also a warmth of the people themselves, kindled by wine and dancing. The voices and laughter out of almost two hundred throats, mixed with a cacophony of lutes, drums and pipes, made it nearly impossible for an individual to be heard. The overwhelming booming of the masses.

Nonetheless now it was time for only one to speak, the festivities had started an hour ago and the food was almost ready to be served.

Two loud tones of the bugle was what it took to silence the masses, but Marco sounded it a third time, just for good masseur. All attention turned to the man standing on the long ashen table, and when their lord raised his right hand was it enough to silence last mummers.

"Good evening my friends," Robert's voice carried loud, yet calm in the sudden vacuum of noise. "We have waited a long time, we all have worked hard, and we did say our goodbyes to old friends and family. All of us have provided many offers to archive this dream, this dream not many even dared to dream. This vision; of our proud land, and its proud people, once again free from the tyrant in Satlock and his lapdog the Earl. This Earl, this coward who dares to call himself a the leader of us proud people, this coward for whom many of you have fought defending your fathers lands from the greedy hands of the kingdom, many of you have seen brothers and friends fall in that same act. Only so that in the end, this cowardly Earl could crawl on his knees and surrender this land, and its people, to the Tyrant of Satlock. I may have not been there, and people may wonder 'what does he know when he was just a boy back then', to those people I only can answer; that even as a boy I felt the shame and pain of the betrayal. The same shame and pain you felt, you the good people of Bramen, who have bled for this country, and together with you I have wept in despair for the humility of defeat."

While he was speaking it seemed to grow even hotter in the cave, and shouts of anger as well as shouts of approval accompanied his words.

"But now is our time," the words came out so quiet; they did not seem more than a whisper. It had its effect, and once again the masses were silent. Then loud and clearly: "Now my loyal friends is our time, the waiting is over and tomorrow the first groups will disembark! In little groups we will move to the city, unseen to glaring eye of the Earl. We will hide ourselves in the city and when every last of us is in position; we will strike! We will take the castle, and when we have control of the castle, we will have control of the city. With city firmly in our grip, the people will see it is time to shed the cloak of tyranny. Together with the people, the counts and barons will flock to our side knowing that this proud land will be free once again. Of course there are those who will oppose us, those who grow fat and rich on the teats of the Wolf; those turncoats and betrayers; those cowards and cravens. Whom we will crush, and punish for the uncountable crimes and misdeeds they have perpetrated on the good people of Bramen. With this bright future just a turn away, I wish to celebrate with you; you my loyal friends; the bravest of the brave; the noblest of the noble. Tonight we celebrate the end of waiting, and the prospect of freeing us from these shackles of tyranny." His words hung like fog in the cave slowly descending on the awed listeners, then chaos erupted. Wild sheering, laughing and dancing. Both men and women, crying and embracing the person next to them. Out that chaos of sound chanting came. "Bramen" "Lord Robert" "Freedom" All those words fighting to be heard, until only one survived and the whole mass chanted one name.

The festivity was exuberant, there was no use to go sparse on the drinks for they had no means, nor reason to take it with them on the journey, which would start the next morning. Food had already been rationed for the travel, and all that was left over would either been eaten or thrown away. The people drank, ate, and got merry. All but Marvin. Marvin ate, Marvin drank, and Marvin was merry, an observer would say, but if that observer would have taken his time to look closer, he would have noticed that the majority of Marvin's drinks touched ground instead of his mouth. And had that observer been a very keen one, he maybe just would have noticed a slip in Marvin's joyful mask; a short disappearance of his presumably constant smile. To notice something like that one had to be a very keen observer indeed, but no one in the dancing and laughing masses could rightfully claim to possess this proficiency. So Marvin laughed and danced, flirted and spilled, all unobserved. He waited until the wine would do its work, the festivities would die down, and for the people to go to sleep.

"You probably had heard this a thousand times this night, but that was an impressive speech m'Lord," it had taken some time, but now it was late and no more than two dozen revelers where still awake, most of them hanging over the tables talking in slurring voices. Where first the hall had been filled with music and laughter, was now a bunch of snoring drunken men.

"Thank you Marvin. I have heard it a lot, but I like hearing it from you, I like you a lot," his eyes unfocused as Robert smiled at Marvin. "I was quite good wasn't it?"

"Yes Robert you were tremendous." The fire had died down to only a shimmer of the inferno that it had been. Mugs, tankards and plates, food rests and wine spills filled the tables, between those the heavy heads of sleeping drunkards. On the floor sleeping couples in each other's arms, some naked, some clothed, others in between, none of them in condition to perform in the act they had desired.

"Tremendous," the lord kept on smiling. "Yes yes tremendous that is 'cause it came from the hart."

His cheeks glowed from his wine fueled anger "I hate them. I hate him! The coward, how could let us lose?" His yelling stirred some of the sleeping men.

"I understand."

"No you don't, you can't"

"Alright, I guess I can't."

"It was so horrible, he gave it all away. Is giving it away. Wanted me to marry some daughter of a baron to strengthen the ties. The daughter of a baron!"

"Despicable," he muttered, then his head sank in to his arms.

"I guess that settles it," Marvin looked around, there on the far, talking drunkenly to some just as drunken men, he saw who he was looking for. So he walked straight towards Larissa, when he got her attention he nodded toward the passage which led deeper in to the mine and walked in that direction.

Klarissa couldn't see him, but he could see her, a silhouette with gracious swinging hips.

"Marvin," the dark form giggled. "Are you hiding? Come on, where are you? I've something you'll like"

When she walked past him, he grabbed her from behind and pressed her face to the cold rock wall.

"Something I like? What would that be?" he growled into her neck which he muzzled.

She pushed her ass back in to him and squirmed, to his delight. The squishing noise of leather against leather echoed in the dark empty corridor. Then Marvin kissed her neck and Klarissa paid in kind by kissing his eyebrow, one moved up the other moved down, both on a journey to meet each other halfway. When their lips touched, he turned her around, so she was backed up to the wall and her chest pressed against his. In this fashion he loomed over her with his hands pressed against the stone behind her. Klarissa threw her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist to hoist herself up against him. Their groins grinned against each other and a moan of anticipation was muffled by Marvin's mouth.

Marvin had to admit to himself that he didn't want this moment to end, and gladly he would forget his duties, but he knew what had to happen. It was a feeling he had grown accustomed to, perhaps the feeling was stronger this time, however he had learned to ignore it like the nagging of an old companion.

Darkness and passion deprived them of any sense of time and because Marvin wasn't eager to move, it took them a long time before Klarissa proposed to move on to his quarter. There on the warm pelt of a deer they carried on. An almost primal lust had built up in the two lovers and the small leather bindings of their clothing proved to be an immense frustration. Rather than to struggle any longer with the troublesome straps Marvin decided to simply used his knife to cut open Klarissas vest. Once the irritating obstacle was removed, there was nothing left to keep Marvin at bay. And now that her white flesh was exposed to his mouth and hands, he licked and nipped, bit and pinched.

"What are you doing? Why are you so rough?" Klarissa had problems keeping back her moans long enough to utter those words.

"I, I can't help. I have to..." and he started to tug on her pants.

Together, they managed to free themselves of those obscuring garments, and no longer by them hindered Marvin pushed himself deep inside her. For a short moment he rested, savoring the feeling, that warm tightness. That moment however was soon over and his body urged him to move, in an out, faster and faster.

His face nuzzled in her neck, and Klarissa could feel his warm breath caress her soft skin. Her desire to feel him, to be connected with him with every fiber of her being was rekindled with every trust. Each time he retreaded she feared he would slip out and then; she would lose him. So Klarissa locked her legs behind his back and her arms behind his neck clamming her body tightly to his.

It didn't take long for her to reach her peek, and when that peek came it overwhelmed her, wave after wave crashed in on her and Marvin was her only hold. After the third or fourth wave an faint iron taste filled her mouth, however now there was no time to wonder about it.