The Bramble and the Eel

I now know what it feels like to be that author who doesn't upload for months! Life, and bouts of uncreativity as a result of it, happen. This was inspired by binging Game of Thrones. PLEASE leave comments with thoughts and criticism. I dig the dialogue of this one but writing the sex made me feel rusty. Enjoy!

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"Savage girl, tell me your name, if you have one."

"I am Mosha. Mosha Bramble."

"I'd say that name suits you perfectly."

"And what is my lord's name?"

"John Eel of Darkbay."

"I've never been there, never heard of any Eel. I'm only passing through this forest, I promise."

"I'm sure you do promise, though it's your intention I intend to make clear. Remove your shawl."

"Why would I do that, my lord? Do you intend to see if I'm a virgin? I can't promise you that."

"Stupid girl. Remove your garment this instant. If you've stolen something or are concealing something for someone else, I must know.

"The very notion someone commanding of respect like myself would want to breed with a lowly forest girl is disgusting."

"I'm sure my lord wants for nothing in Darkbay but time on the road surely drives a man into strange embraces if he feels he needs them."

"If you do not take off your clothing, right now, I will hit you again. Do you hear me Mosha, savage of the forest?"

"I do, my lord. I will undress as you command."

"Good. Your people are capable of learning, then."

The wild girl took off her shawl, neither promptly nor apprehensively, only as long as it took. Her arms were bared, and to my surprise, they were quite attractive in their muscularity, even with the fine spread of hair over them. She wore a short top without sleeves or a midriff, revealing a toned stomach as well.

She stood before me, impudent as all her kind, unbothered to be uncovered in the company of a man. I wouldn't give her the satisfaction of unnerving me, and certainly not seducing me with such alluring presentation of flesh. I strode to an inch before her face and pat down her sides.

No weapons or stolen goods did hands find, but soft breasts, plump and firm beneath her final layer of privacy. Surprise won her over for a moment, the foolish girl. I ignored her discomfort and continued down her trousers, the pelts not thick enough to obscure anything concealed under them.

She watched my hands with contained annoyance until I was finished with my frisk. Just for good measure, I turned her around and brought her to me, reaching a hand down her pants to squeeze both of her meaty cheeks. She gasped and began to fight me but thought better of it before committing to thrashing her way out of her own pants to get away from me.

"There, there, Miss Bramble. You've nothing to hide. See? It's all over now."

No longer finding the encounter amusing, the girl pulled up her pants and stared at me with fire in her eyes. Like any other woman, she shared a hatred for those who forced themselves upon them, and I could not blame her. I replaced my gloves and grasped the hilt of my sword in an attempt to make them forget the feel of her bosom.

"I see, and I felt, m'lord. Am I free to be on my way?"

"Tsk, tsk. I have ensured you are no danger to me as I lead you back to the castle."

"The castle? What for?"

"Questioning."

Mosha being a barbarian was suspect enough to throw her in a castle dungeon for awhile. What was odd to me, though, was her appearance, as well as her manner. She was of a darker complexion than any savage I had ever seen, and she spoke like someone of a village. Likely a captive raised as their own since she was a baby.

"What else is there to learn about me? You already know what my tits and ass feel like."

I started toward her, the smirk on my face angering her, driving her to smash her fists against my armor over and over as I secured her hands with a knot of rope.

"What else do you need to know!"

Her struggles were as futile as her protests. I made sure the line was tight but not obstructing her blood flow. I tied the other end of the rope to a ring on my belt, and to the poor girl's dismay, I was not swayed by her tugging on the bonds. The helplessness infuriated her, I could tell. Her helplessness was my control, however, and it would remain that way.

"Your ragged kin have been causing all sorts of problems across the realm as of late. The latest decree gives knights the right to detain anyone suspected of bandit activity."

I tugged her leash and we started down the path, despite her tripping and squealing. Curiously enough, I was both disappointed and relieved that she could not resist me. She was quite easier to deal with than most other prisoners. It took her less than a mile to figure out how far the rope extended and how closely she had to follow to maintain slack on the rope.

First she was incessant in her complaints and objections. Then deathly silent, surely staring daggers at the back of my head. When she realized neither approach worked, the tension thawed along the rope and the sound of the nature around us rose over the silence between us.

Autumn had set in nicely in this part of the kingdom. The wood around us sported a colorful style of reds and oranges in their leaves. We were on a little-known path cleared for messenger riders cut through the forest hardly two trees in width. It led straight to the castle, and finding Mosha on it only made me all the more suspicious of her. The forest people were known to disregard the season as they are masters of the outdoors. But few are known to leave their forests and take the roads of civilized men.

"My lord. Sire. Master. Please, reconsider this."

"Master? You are not mine forever, girl."

"I don't intend to be. I didn't intend to cross paths with you ever again, my lord!"

"Your kind using paths worries me, Miss Bramble. And I am very glad I did cross you, who knows what you were going to do had you reached the castle or the town or who knows where you were headed."

"Like I told you before, I am nothing but a traveler through the forest. I am from the Glade."

I had heard of the Glade. Nothing like this forest but people and bandits same as us. I had no knowledge of what a typical Resident of the Glade looked like so I could only take her claim lightly.

"Is that why you are dark unlike the savages of this region? Do the barbarians look like you where you're from?"

"We look like ourselves. Everyone's different."

"Of course they are, but I've never known of a wild one like you around here before. Someone at the castle will know of the Glade and confirm your story if it's true."

"My lord! This isn't necessary. I beg you, release me."

I faced her, I wanted to know what kind of liar she was. I had seen many different faces and liars, I had grown quite proficient at seeing through the tells and fronts. Some couldn't look at you while others stared. My favorites were the ones who look like they're telling the truth.

Mosha looked like she was telling the truth, through all the fear. That was my least favorite kind of liar: one I could believe.

"I assure you, my dirty lady, it is necessary. Not much harm should come to you, and you'll likely be released within a month. If you tell the truth, that is."

"There is no truth to tell! My lord, I have nothing to hide. Beneath my clothes or within my heart."

"Your saying things like that just makes me doubt that, unfortunately."

She said nothing but her eyes told me everything. She hated me for this. She was afraid, thus confirming she was one of the forest people. She knew what could happen to her as a prisoner of the kingdom, an enemy of the realm by association with the trees. She believed there was something in me she could use to get free, and this I was puzzled by. I had never before allowed a prisoner go free and I didn't intend to then.

"You do me injustice, my lord. You deliver me to people that would harm me more than you have. I can forgive you, but I will not forget what they do to me if I live."

"You have no need to worry for your life. And besides, the King's knights are honorable men. I apologize if my search made you feel uncomfortable but I cannot put my life at risk even with a woman.

"In fact, most savage women I've had the misfortune to arrest have been quite vicious. You have my thanks for using your words and not your teeth, my dear."

She was silent. Truly silent this time, without intention but from her own hurting heart.

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It was almost nightfall when the bandits were upon us.

Mosha still hadn't said a word to me, following behind me like a pouting child. My heart felt a twang of sympathy for her, but my duty would not allow me to comfort her in any way. We were only a day's walk from the castle, but it wasn't safe to travel through the forest at night. All manner of beasts both human and creature could be lurking behind every log and tree.

"We'll stop here for the night, Mosha. This stand of trees will serve as a barrier around us."

The girl said nothing but sat heavily upon the log, turning me toward her slightly via the rope. I glanced at her, long enough for her to look away and understand my warning. I took off the knot and lashed the rope around the tree in the center of the protective circle.

Her eyebrows rose as she watched me come toward her. The wary eyes watched my hands carefully as a dog while I untied her bonds. She began to stand, joy like I hadn't seen since encountering her shone through her eyes. She began to embrace me, until she felt my hands wrap around her waist and connect the ends of the rope.

"What are you..."

It died in her throat faster than the hope drifted from her eyes.

She sank down upon the log and I busied myself with building the fire. She sulked and buried her face in her hands. Soon enough flame took to the branches and sticks. Shadows flickered to life, building silhouettes against the trunks of the trees.

I sat on the log opposite the girl, putting the fire between us. It cracked and popped and the girl cried. I felt for her but thought she must make peace with her fate before the night was through.

"Are you hungry?"

The girl looked up; she didn't have to nod to say yes. I smiled and dug into my satchel for the strip of dried meat that would serve as our dinner. She watched me rip it in two and lay the pieces in the fire, to her surprise.

"It's already cooked, I know. I just enjoy a hot meal when I can. Only a moment longer."

"I see."

A branch broke in the night.

Sneaking sounds echoed off the trees.

My sword broke through the darkness, reflecting the flames from the fire. Mosha's eyes widened in alarm. The sound of the blade slipping from the scabbard was joined like a dark symphony by the trio of bandit blades.

I thrust my sword into the fire, counting down the seconds until they came. Mosha slid off her log, and backed against the tree that constrained her. I dug my heels into the dirt, bending at the knee as I readied to fight. The count ran down.

The heat traveled down the sword into my hand, I knew it was time. A pelted man jumped over the fire, axe brought over his head aimed at my own. My sword cut a swathe of light through the air to reveal his brethren at my sides. They screamed and jumped away from the crimson blade.

The axeman proved too eager to take my life and lost his own through the gash in his throat. His body fell back into the fire, his greasy body catching flame instantly. Dark balls of smoke puffed into the air taking some of the fire's light with it.

The scoundrels circled the fire bent low with daggers in their teeth. I kept Mosha behind me, leaving no chance for the vile beasts to harm her. I let the heat in my hands move me to action, swaying toward them with my sword poised to thrust. They watched my arm and I watched their feet.

One of the dogs, a gangly looking thing with a patchy beard dashed to my left. I swung my sword in a wide arc, thwarting the man to my right's attempt to skewer me. His spear pierced the dead man's ass, lodging itself deep in his fat.

The man to my left swiped low, glancing off the armor protecting my stomach. I struck the man in the face, slicing off a portion of his tongue with the knife in his mouth. He gurgled a cry and fell back, into the darkness.

The spearman rushed forward with his knife. I parried him at the last second, earning a cut across my palm for my trouble. He spat upon the ground, murder in his eyes. I stepped back and checked for Mosha. No girl did my foot feel but dirt. The savage smiled like a hyena with the few teeth he still possessed.

I pounced onto the dead man's corpse and threw my arm as far as it could extend my sword through the barbarian's sword arm. He screamed and we fell into a heap. I pushed myself off of him, removing my sword as I rose. He screeched and clutched his wound. The man was powerless on the ground, kicking at the dirt but getting no farther away from me.

The man no longer a threat, I searched for Mosha. I first followed the trail of the tongueless one, until I ruled him out of having a part in her escape. Oddly enough, I found no trace of the rope that bound her, not even a fiber indicative of a cut.

Fortunately, she left a wild enough trail left for me to follow once I sorted out the mess she had so kindly left for me to deal with. The smell of a dead man was bad enough but a man left to cook was a singular displeasure. But, there was another man still alive, alas.

"Do you wish to die? Or be taken to the castle dungeons? I have a feeling you don't want to be cut loose."

He spat again, though he didn't have the strength to propel it over his chest.

"I hate to see a man suffer, even if I'm not there to see it all the way through. Do you know what I'm saying?"

The bleeding man said nothing but pushed himself up with his good arm. He looked up to me, fear peeking out from those dark eyes.

"You disappoint me, barbarian. Surely men have looked you in the eye with honest mercy pleading for you to spare them."

I grabbed the pathetic wretch and brought him to his feet. He cried out and held his arm as if he needed it to stand. I fished out another length of rope and tied it around his chest.

"You're lucky the castle is so close. Lest I'd sport a similar attitude."

He grunted and began to seethe through his foamy anguish. I yanked him hard and pushed him against the tree.

"You're going to watch me bury him. You're lucky soils so good in civilized lands. If this were Winter I'd have left him for the beasts."

I labored until the spear was free of the fat man. I held it in the embers until it was red hot. The barbarian knew what I was doing, his struggling bought him only a few more moments of familiar pain until I could scald his wound and make him howl into the night.

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Getting him to the castle and thrown in a cell was easy enough the next morning. The jailer grunted his usual thanks for another mouth to feed when I brought him the savage. With no wars and a dropping crime rate, he was probably annoyed to have his peace broken by an unwashed barbarian.

I, for one, had my hands full with the recent forest people's epidemic. After the last war, I was assigned Warden of a stretch of forest between Darkbay and the castle. The charge and reward was keeping them free and clear of brigands and beasts. I had been one of the first to report illegal barbarian activity in the forest.

Until recently we mostly let them be and warned our children against playing in forests. If one was found in the seldom occasion they would let themselves be found, they were arrested and questioned before being released. Now, dungeons were filling up with them, their crimes warranting harsher punishments.

Another point strange about Mosha was her youth. Most of the rabble rousers were older like the one I brought in and male. Sure their wives would follow the beasts away in their outlandish behavior but generally they discouraged their children from creating trouble. This I noted in my report to the King before I readied to search for her once more.

"Sir Eel!"

"Oh, my! If it isn't Prince Paul! Good morning, sire."

"Oh, get off that knee, Sir. I heard you had trouble with some brigands last night."

"Nothing I couldn't handle, Sire. One did manage to flee from her bindings, though. I can't rest until my forest is safe."

"That's a man. I have no doubt you will find her, John."

"Thank you, my Prince."

"Before you depart, I wanted to see if you were interested in another mission."

"Of course, Sire. Of course! What is the quest?"

He laughed and commended my description of the proposition.

"A quest it is, Sir Eel. I wanted to know if you would marry my sister, to be blunt."

"Your... the Princess? Princess May?"

"Exactly right. My father has tasked me with judging my sister's suitor, as he believes his high station clouds the true nature of whomever would petition to marry the Princess."

"You have judged me, Sire?"

"I remember everything from the war. I remember those I fought with most of all. You and your father, the slippery Eels, leading the enemy into trap after trap. I could never forget that."

He got a far off look in his eyes as he said the words. He was quiet a moment as he recollected.

"I could never forget you, John. You would feint and confuse the enemy but honor never left you. Your men had mercy on the poor souls you twisted up."

"I... thank you, Sire. We did our best for your father. I remember your leadership, your banner leading us into the field, over and over again."

He smiled and pat my back.

"You're a good man. When the King asked me to begin my search, you were the only man that came to mind. What do you say?"

"Princess May is beautiful, and her grace Is well known. I accept. But first, I must ask you something."

"What is it, John?"

"When did your father ask you?"

"Yesterday."

"My Prince."

I feel neither of us had laughed so hard in a long time.

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Back in the forest. My forest. The most I had ever had and it was beautiful, despite its infestation problem.

Soon I would have a wife. Beautiful as well as useful in a variety of ways a forest cannot satisfy. I had not thought much of marriage, to be honest. One's father usually arranged it, and mine's intention was no different. But to be wed to a princess, with no dealings or things traded between houses, I was a lucky man.

I would use that luck and the Prince's blessing to track down the Bramble girl. I picked up her trail again soon enough, at the campsite. I followed her path of escape for miles before I came upon the rope. It was black and petrified amidst embers, the base of a fire born only hours after the one we shared was extinguished.

No bones were found in the fire, and I never got to share my beef with the girl. I surmised she must be hunting or gathering, if she really was a stranger to these parts without friends to feed her.

Her crouched gait into the bushes confirmed my theory. Twigs stripped of berries led me to a pond, guarded by cattails and reeds tall as my waist. The fugitive's trail ended here, for all I could discern in the mud. The water was relatively clear for a finite pool, clear enough for me to see myself, and fish dart beneath the surface.

Soon after surveying the rest of the pond I found a broken reed, a fiber of rope still dangling from its end. Versatile, was this wild girl. Smart too, keeping on the move and abandoning the camp I had found.

North I continued, toward a stream I knew. I presumed Mosha had passed it on her way from the Glade and perhaps fled back to something familiar. I kept low in my approach, stopping every so often to listen. Before I broke from the tree line, I peered out along the narrow waterway, searching for any sign of my prey.