The Dark Chronicles Ch. 09

Mordant wrapped a dark cloak around Lancilet's shoulders, and the two crept swiftly past the flickering lights of Artur's parly room, tarred rushes burning on the walls and a log fire crackling. Mordant felt a trickle of cold rain slide down his neck and over his chest and he shivered with the chill touch of it. But his words were smooth as honey as he reassured Lancilet that the queen would be alone, the cousin's cock the purpose of this night.

Mordant had brewed a coction, lacing it with forgetful flowers, dulling herbs and the skin of mushrooms from the forest, and fed it to Lancilet to fuddle his thoughts yet tighten his loins. "You're nervous, Lancilet, no need to be, drink this. It's a rutting potion I Iearned from my mother, and drank it myself before fucking the village girls south at Tyntangel." More lies, but Mordant didn't know when to stop. His fates were running on now, and he was caught in the midst of them, like a spider devouring its web.

A swirl of rain rushed hard against the wall and Lancilet paused, catching his balance with a hand against the stone. In his britches, he felt a different thickening, and knew it was the drugged drink acting upon him. "I feel strange, cousin," he murmured to Mordant, "the light is shimmering bright."

"Don't fear it, Lancilet. It's the drink, it brings a strong courage, and a tightening of the balls." He touched Lancilet's brow and felt a slight sweat, and knew that the potion was creeping into the other man's brain. His hand wandered lower to Lancilet's thickening cock, not for his pleasure because he had none, but to be sure of it for his plan. The prince's cock rose, and Mordant stroked it hard, carefully teasing Lancilet up while whispering quiet words into his ear.

"She'll want this prod, dear Lancilet. She'll sigh and take it into her mouth, oh yes, and her fingers will play in her cunt and touch your lips and she'll moan." His voice was cold and remorseless, driving the lustful vision deep into Lancilet's mind. "Don't be slow, Lancilet, place the queen on her back and spread her legs apart. You'll see her lovely quim, she wants it full and fiercely fucked. Do it, Lancilet my sweet, fuck her up full, and when I'm king you can have the queen's cunt whenever you want it. I've no need for it."

Lancilet could think of nothing but his cock and its tight strain, the drugs were upon him. He brushed Mordant's hand away, and pulled his britches down his legs so his cock rose hard and high against his belly. He wrapped the cloak around himself and crept along the wall, using his fingers for guidance along the joints between the stones. The fast rain swirled around, blinding his eyes with streaming drops. He wiped his eyes clear, and stepped over the familiar threshold to Miryamme's rooms. The walls shimmered and swirled, circling with crystalline light.

"Go now, I'll wait." He heard Mordant's low whisper and a cold laugh, and he was alone in the room. He knew the antechamber well, the small entry room with its cooking fire and a corridor beyond, past Elayne's bed-chamber to Miryamme's room. Usually he would hear Miryamme's low whisper calling to him with her stutter, "Lancilet, Lancilet, is that you, is that you?"

He brushed the water from his eyes, and could hear nothing but the low rush of the rain outside. He shook his head to clear it, and heard a soft sound from the room ahead.

"Lancilet, Lancilet, is it you? Come to me quick, sweet boy." Miryamme's voice was soft, quickly spoken. He dropped the cloak from his shoulders and reached for the strings that tied his jerkin close. Pulling the cloth away from his body, Lancilet brushed his own nipples and they were tight and hard, tiny points on his flesh, the touch causing his prick to throb.

"Quick, see me." Miryamme's voice was urgent. He glanced aside to Elayne's room, and saw a huddled shape under her blankets; the sleeping maid waiting on her queen. He went on to the queen's chamber, eager now for her fresh, smooth body, and the delectable quim he had tasted so many times before but entry always denied. A rush of rain blew against the window shutters, and he startled with the sound of it.

There on the bed, in the dim light from the window, lay the slender body of the queen, her head thrown back into the shadows, naked before him. Lancilet quickly moved forward, his cock aching for her, aching for his own desire. Mordant's ceaseless drip of words tormented his mind and made him see nothing but the woman's spread wide legs, but he never heard her silence or thought it strange. He fell upon her, and was welcomed by strong arms, but didn't remember the queen's frailty and didn't think it strange.

With a moan Lancilet gripped her legs and spread them wide, and placed the tip of his engorged cock between the lips of the queen's cunt where he'd always been denied. He didn't think it curious when her hand came down to guide him, and she gripped his ass and pulled him into her with a low hiss, "Yesss."

She pushed up against him with hot delight, bucking her hips up to his, her lips feverish on his mouth in a hungry kiss. "Oh sire, oh prince, please take me, take me, unhh..." She embraced him hard, wrapping her arms around him, pulling him fierce inside her, then turned her head away. "Don't look, don't see. I'm not...."

Suddenly the rain stopped, and the only sound was the slick of their bodies against each other and their fast breath, as Lancilet arched his back with a sudden thrust and surged his seed up into her, his orgasm ripping through his body in pulses before collapsing onto her slender body. With a high cry, she too came, her body shaking against his, "Mmmm, unhh... yesss, mine, this night."

There was a sudden crash of a door flung open, followed by the sound of feet running. Mordant's voice cried out, "Artur, my father, you are betrayed, your queen taken by her cousin, fucked in your place. Her innocence broken, oh my father!"

"What's this, Mordant? You speak filth. My queen would not give her prize to any man but me, and she sleeps. What you? Why bring me here, scurrying in the night?"

"Look father. Lancilet and the queen, there on the bed, she's still wrapped her legs around him like a slut. The king's queen, a slut."

"There's no queen here, Mordant. It's Lancilet, sure, but he favours the maid Elayne; yet they lie on the queen's bed, 'tis odd."

Lancilet pushed back and fell away from the maid, astonished that it was indeed Elayne in his arms and in the queen's bed.

"How is it Elayne? Mordant promised me it was the queen wanted me for her quim, her virgin fuck to take." He shook his head, confused, the staring pupils of his eyes wide, revealing his drugged ecstasy.

"Lancilet, prince, you bed the lady's maid. Miryamme the queen sleeps in my chamber, quietly in my bed. Emmelynne is with her, calming her there. Why did you think her here, and willing for you?" Artur looked down on the youth and touched him gently on the shoulder. "You look to be tranced. Who has done this, my prince?"

"Mordant, sire. He promised it, saying you wanted it, because you're old and feeble too."

Artur looked askance at the youth, and covered Elayne with a quilt. She gratefully wrapped it around herself and was about to slip away, when Artur held a finger to his lips."Sssh, Elayne, you're innocent here, I think."

"Mordant you say, brought you here saying the queen would be in her chamber, then rushed to find me?"

Lancilet nodded, "Yeay, he brought me here, and I heard the queen's voice and saw her face."

"Did he now? Mordant did that, and you say you saw my queen?" Artur spoke as calmly as ever he did, when riding into battle or admiring a young goat-herd's flock.

He turned to his son. "It seems, child, that you plot as well as you command. There are quicker minds than yours, this night." He paused, and watched the red bloom rise on Mordant's face.

"You would stain my queen with your rage, you would fool the prince Lancilet with your lies, you would bring me here in the falling rain to see faces?" He was like a still pond with no ripples, and Mordant finally understood quiet anger, quiet rage, his father turned against him forever. "What else would you do, my son, to prove yourself a man?"

* * * *

Well. That's the proof of it, made clear in a puddle. Mordant content to plot against his father and use a gentle boy to do it, and willing to sully the queen's fragile mind along with it.

"Ban him, father. He'll not fight for you, my gutless brother. Send him from this place." Lilith was ruthless and her eyes as cold as the winter sky. "We need to fight, father, and need men to do it, not sprawling, crawling things. Mordant is no brother to me. If he was a flea in a comb I'd crush it."

I saw Mordant quiver before his sister's wrath, his hand shaking against his leg. He gripped it with his other hand, trying to stop the shake.

Artur stood facing the fire, and didn't look back at his son. A huge, ragged breath escaped him, and I saw his shoulders slump. He took another breath, and looked up towards the roof. "This night, I go to my queen. Lilith, my daughter, we ride tomorrow side by side.

"Mordant, be not here in the morn. I care not where you go. I banish you, my only son. Go!

"'Tis done, these deeds, and what's done cannot be undone. I curse this day."

I was there.

When Elayne the hand-maiden was made queen for a night, I was there.

© Electricblue66 2018