The Dark Chronicles Ch. 10

"Gayne!" And for a moment she was just his sister, and he remembered running through the castle, the rustle of straw. "I'm here, Artur, it's me."

Morgayne knelt before the king and took his phallus in her two hands, pressing it up against his gut. She looked up to his face, his head drawn back in slow pleasure, his eyes closed. His quickening breath plumed in the cold air. She reached one hand up to his throat and dragged her long nails down over his chest, scratching over his nipples. Artur's gut tightened as her hand drifted down between his legs to cup his high balls.

She lowered her mouth to Artur's plum-coloured head and sucked him between her lips. Her throat moved as she swallowed, and she settled onto his cock, her hand a wondrous slowness as she made him rise and pulled a long strength up his spine. A stream of energy enveloped them both, and she conjured sex magick into his blood. Out amongst the ranks of men a virgin cried out as he came, and it was his first time.

Morgayne smiled as she heard the cry and worked Artur's cock some more, spiralling energy upward, concentrating on her task. Her hand slid between her own legs as she crouched before him and pulled slick wetness out from her core. Her brother the king thrust into her throat and she took him full in, a slow fuck to rise the magick up. Another man cried out, and her eyes blinked closed. And the flames flickered round and the smoke from the braziers spiralled lazily up to the sky.

She eased off from his cock and straightened herself before him, pressing her long thin body against his, offering her mouth with his taste to his lips. Artur tasted the dark tang of his cock, and his sister fucked into his mouth with her tongue. "Oh my brother, take this from me, and never forget."

He kissed her hard, his body swinging from his tied wrists, and she pressed her body against his and held him. Morgayne pressed the hot length of his shaft against her belly which had carried their children, their destiny, seen and unseen, all made. "Sweet fuck, we made them and cannot make them unmade." She eased her body away from his and backed away from him, a last longing look in her eyes. "Sweet brother, I'll not forget."

Morgayne's long fingers trailed through the air, slowly moving, and the air shimmered between them. His rod strained thick and hard against his gut and the tip glistened, catching a flicker of light. "Gayne, I remember...."

A low susurrus of rain fell upon the snow, light as feathers falling, a gentle hushing sound.

"Mother," Lilith whispered, as she passed by the older woman descending from the stair.

"Daughter," Morgayne whispered back. "Go to your father the king, with your love as strong as mine. We made you and cannot unmake. Remember, the goddess can't see you, just as she couldn't see me." She caressed her daughter's cheek. "But look what we made!"

Lilith climbed the stair, her hiding cloak stained with mud and leaves, clay and branches, all to hide in plain sight; here she was.

"Father, I'll ride beside you on a tall horse and hide in the earth; but first, a kiss."

She reached up from within her tangled cloak to caress his face, kissing him slowly on the lips, a daughter's kiss so many times done before, but never so slowly as this. She savoured him, tasting back the mingled taste of her mother on his tongue, her father on his lips. "We'll ride together, my father, our horses galloping on the wind; we'll swim in cool rivers, you and me, my love."

Lilith took a step back, and for a moment she was just a woman, he was just a man; not king nor queen of the land, not fighting for a thought. "My love," he replied. "We're ready."

She took a further step back, raising her arms above her head, her hiding cloak falling away to reveal her graceful curves, oiled like his, all golden. Her tawny blonde hair, all braided and twisted, fell wild around her body. Her inked black snakes coiled and moved around her limbs in the flickering light of the flames. Someone gasped, a man who'd not seen her close like this before, and the rain fell softly down.

Lilith went to the four sides of the platform in turn and stood still for a moment so the men could see her, tall and proud, her full breasts swaying and her nipples thick and tight. Some of these men had seen her rise from the ground and fight, and knew she had her father's courage and his passion. They would be lead by this woman to war, follow willingly and maybe die for her. Her naked splendour was their reward. The rain glistened on her skin.

She bathed in a lust thickened gaze from the men, before turning back to Artur, still suspended by the straps on his wrists. She pressed his cock, still hard from Morgayne's suck, between her belly and his, pushing up against him. She wrapped a leg around his thigh and placed his shaft against her sex, and was wet for him. She kissed him again and adored him, her father, the king.

Lilith reached for the knife in the sheath on her thigh, its blade honed sharp. She reached up and cut his bonds, and his arms went around her, all joining up the snakes in a single coil seething round them both. The flames flickered and shadows swayed, and their skin writhed and turned. The snakes turned and crawled on their skin.

She took the knife and ran its sharp blade over their flesh, cutting a fine trail of blood on their arms, and the snakes drank dark blood.

They held each other close for a long moment, not saying a word, wrapped in each other's bleeding arms, before going to war.

Artur strode to the front of the platform and stood tall, his king's hard cock proving his prowess, filled with energy conjured up by his women. "Men," he shouted, his voice firm and strong. "We ride!

"Lilith, summon my armies. We move out, this night."

Lilith took a branch from the nearest brazier, its flame burning bright, and she took it to the black trail of fire-powder leading to the pyre. The first part of the powder lit, burning with a bright blue flame which shot up high, before running through the snow to the base of the huge stack of wood and tar. The flaming thread disappeared into the centre of the pile, and a moment later there was a loud explosion, as a great mound of the powder caught fire and burned.

Within the space of twenty heart-beats, the base of the pyre began to burn fiercely, the tar and pitch spitting and crackling as the fuel caught alight and flames shot higher. The heat quickly became intense, melting the snow and forcing the men to move back, shielding their faces from the furnace.

The fire quickly spread through the whole pyre, flames shooting high to the sky as the dry wood was consumed. Before long, on distant hills and high places to the west, the north and south, more fires were light, sending the message to Artur's waiting armies that the wait was over, every preparation done, it was time to march.

The king and Lilith descended from the stage and made their way to their horses, to lead their troops to war.

I was there.

When Artur the king made a fire and blood ceremony with his sister and daughter, to conjure strength for battle, then rode on to war, I was there.

* * * *

Ulgrif had become separated from his troop during the last skirmish, when the defenders swept down the high sides of the valley, dividing the landsmen from each other; too quick on their horses, a slaughter too easy. He had crawled away, pressing his hand hard against the wound on his shoulder. Elricka might be impressed with the scar, if he made it back, if he lived. Pain throbbed fiercely, and Ulgrif felt himself drifting to the edge of sleep and back. He crawled towards a clear stream, thinking to bathe and clean his torn flesh.

He propped himself against a tree close to the brook and looked down onto the site of the skirmish. He counted nine bodies and the dark mass of a downed horse - so one of the defenders at least, walked, or was dead.

He tried to make sense of their strategy, but could see none. Nine days walk from the boats, carrying food just to eat it, walking into the heart of defenders land? Bring the enemy to the coast and kill them there; but to go to them? It made no sense. Ulgrif could count, he had that skill from back home: another five days, another five dead? This was no invasion, this was madness, a waiting death. He grinned a rictus grin; Valhal would need many carts to bring the warriors home to rest if they kept on like this. But he was alive! To keep it that way, he had no other plan.

Grimacing with pain, Ulgrif pulled the leather jerkin away from his wound. He unravelled the cords from the sleeve and inspected the gash, still bleeding. It seemed a clean cut, and he thanked a good man in a forge, making clean blades that cut well. He ran his finger down the rough iron blade of his own sword, more like an axe than a knife, and thought, "Ha, I will mangle, not cut. Some man will hurt more, today, than me." It was a small satisfaction.

He eased himself out of his clothing, bundling it at the base of the tree's trunk where the leaf litter was soft and the ground dry. He crawled towards the stream and fell into it, gasping with the shock of the cold water. The cold throbbed into his wounded shoulder, but it was a different kind of pain and slowly numbed the gash, leaving just his heartbeat pulsing steadily. Ulgrif carefully washed the cut clean, wincing from time to time. He watched his blood stream and furl into the water, and washed himself clean.

Thankful for the relief, Ulgrif lay there, his body submerged with just his head showing, resting on a rock. He closed his eyes, and felt the soft pull of the running water over his skin. After a moment, he felt tiny drops splashing on his face. Opening his eyes, he saw they were splashes of a light rain hitting the surface of the stream, playing the water up over his skin. He sat up, and felt a shadow from the sun. He looked up.

"What you, in a clear stream, yet you stream it with your blood?"

She spoke in his language. Her voice was light, not mocking but curious. She stood over him, her long braided hair a dirty blonde down to her waist. Her arms were bare, with dark tattoos coiling and spiralling on her skin, shimmering with movement and shadows. Her whole body was hidden in a long cloak, made dirty with mud and twigs and leaves weaved through it. She was tall and imperious, looking down on him with a slight smile in her eyes.

Ulgrif remembered rumours of the giant woman who rose in slaughter from the ground, rising from the dirt and rock, killing uncountable men. Was this her, was he dead?

"I bleed, lady, and clean the cut." He gestured to the valley below. "Wounded down there, by attack." He took a gamble and spoke it. "By your men, lady, I think it true."

There was a long pause as she too looked down into the valley. "Yes. My men. How many?"

"Maybe two hands, lady." Ulgrif showed her his ten fingers, with his palms towards her, no weapons hid. She nodded, and gave a small smile at the wisdom of his gesture, no weapons hidden and naked in a stream.

"You took down a horse. Did you kill it?"

"Not I, lady, but its rider has gone. He lives, I hope."

"You hope he lives? What manner of man are you, that you hope your enemy lives, to kill you tomorrow?"

"A simple fighter, lady, not wanting this." He looked around. "But loyal, lady, to my command." Ulgrif thought this woman would see lies before they were told, and truth was the easier story to keep true.

"Loyalty. Now there's a thing." The woman spoke as if to herself. "Loyal, you say? To die for?"

"Probably, lady," Ulgrif replied. "If you kill for it."

She laughed, a cold bitterness in her throat. "Oh no, I not kill loyal so quick. Treachery and betrayal, I might kill slow."

She leaned down towards Ulgrif, offering him her hand. "But you. Come, let's wrap this wound. I have food, and will share it with a loyal man."

"Starve a thief, lady?"

"Oh yes, till they rot."

Ulgrif got to his feet and stepped towards her, water trailing down his naked limbs, bright red blood from the wound still streaming.

"Stay there," she commanded, and went to a big grey horse tethered a short distance away. She unstrapped a travelling bag and placed it on the ground. She extracted a blanket. "Wrap in this for warmth, and show me your arm.

"Ah, the water cleans it well, fresh from the high hills; and washes away blood. Your shoulder will heal, you'll live to carry a sword again."

The woman tore a strip of white cloth from a roll and bandaged Ulgrif's shoulder, her fingers quick and sure. She seemed regardless of his nakedness under the blanket, but her care was intimate and her touch gentle. Ulgrif responded to her closeness, his cock thickening.

"A sword again, lady? You release me to fight this other man of yours, on a second day?"

"What use you to me otherwise? I release you, or kill you." She was matter of fact about her choices. "And I promised you food, so killing you makes no sense, does it not? Besides, if my horseless man is to kill you tomorrow, I need to keep you alive." She smiled, showing him no malice.

"You bargain strange, lady, and playful too. You let me eat and live, even though I be your enemy and wander in your land."

"Ah, but you are a loyal man, and a queen values loyalty."

"A queen? Is it true, then, what they say? You are that queen?"

"I know not what your men say, not all; but yes, I am Lilith, that queen. Tell me, soldier, do you have a name, that might remember Lilith?"

"Lady, I am Ulgrif, and will remember you this day. If I live, that is."

"Ulgrif, you say? Shall we eat, soldier Ulgrif? You can tell me about this army of yours, while we eat."

She reached for the travelling bag and found bread and cuts of meat, sliced from a pig on a spit. Berries too, that stained their lips, and Lilith wiped away a drop from his chin as he talked.

Ulgrif told her of the pretender king who came to the beach with promises. Lilith gave nothing away as she listened, just an occasional prompt, as if it were a trivial thing.

"I saw him once, lady, with a red bruise on his face that he tried to keep all hid. I did not trust him, he always looked beside a man, never looked him in the eye. My captains thought him a foolish boy, but he promised a quick way to Artur the king, so they follow."

"They follow him but mock. Is that what you say?"

"True, lady, they mock him, this would-be king. Do you know him, lady?"

"I've heard tell of him, this prince, but he is a stranger to me. No matter."

Lilith talked about other things, and the night dropped down.

"I will not light a fire, we'll stay hid." She clicked her tongue and heard a soft whinny in reply.

"Your horse, lady, won't he be seen behind the wood?"

"You see him, Ulgrif, my horse?"

He peered back to where the horse was tethered, but could see nothing there. He squinted his eyes for better focus and thought he saw a shadow, heard a hoof stamp, but he could not see a horse. The light rain continued to fall.

Lilith stood and dropped her hiding cloak. "Come, move aside your crooked shoulder, let me share the blanket. We'll sleep warm tonight, soldier, I promise."

She undid the ties and straps of her bodice and let it drop, revealing her full breasts, narrow waist and the muscled ridges of her torso. She bent to loosen her leggings, pulling them down her thighs and over her soft leather boots, then eased the boots from her feet. She was swift and methodical, neatly folding the garments before placing them in her kit bag, which she drew close and made into a pillow.

Ulgrif saw the coiling tattoo of the snakes on her skin and the thin white scars circling her arms and body, and thought the queen had made blood promises, weaving powerful bindings around herself. He wondered if she claimed his company as a queen seeking loyalty, or a woman seeking pleasure.

"Your shoulder, Ulgrif. Is it a hurting still? We be careful of it." She gently pushed him back to the ground and straddled him, her sex resting against his shaft, her thighs against his hips. She looked down on him and he held her gaze, not looking away. Lilith took the blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders, reaching back to make sure his legs were covered, keeping him warm. She bent forward to kiss him, and slid her sex along his. She was wet for him already, but slow and gentle too.

She raised her body up and reached between her legs to take his shaft, placing his cock head to her entrance. She eased him in without a sound, without a word. Her eyes held his as she slid down around him, slowly taking his heat into her body. She closed her eyes with pleasure.

"Ahh, soldier, 'tis a nice thickness you have there, for my cunt."

She began to move on his shaft, leaning forward to place her hands on his chest. Ulgrif reached up and took a breast in his good hand, pressing the firm flesh up against her body. He never took his eyes off hers. She sighed, and they slowly began to fuck.

Lilith placed her weight over his body at first, her hands upon his chest so she could rise and fall easily on his shaft, finding the best place where her clitoris urged hard on the base of his gut, where the wet of her spreading core sank down. Then, when he filled her, she straightened her back and took him harder, clenching her cunt around him like a fist, grinding down so he couldn't move, he couldn't thrust. Lilith gripped him, made him hers, her silent black eyes daring him to look away.

He matched her and didn't look away, his hand gripping her breast, twisting her flesh; then pulling and tugging on her nipple, trying to get her to drop forward again to his mouth. But she wouldn't be bent. Lilith rode him like she rode her horse and arched her back, her breast escaping his grasp. She took her own breasts into her hands and stretched her throat, looking up with closed eyes to the branches above. She shuddered, a cord thickening on her neck, and a low cry like a distant bird escaped her throat.

"Still, don't move, I'll...." Lilith gripped a breast with one hand and with the other splayed the top of her sex, frigging herself to her pleasure with her fingers. As she came she let cry a high scream like a hawk. Goose-bumps shivered Ulgrif's arms. He dared not move, and felt her spasms on his cock as her orgasm rocked over her. All the while he looked up at Lilith, and when she finally looked down at him he saw a wonderful softness in her eyes, half-swooning, a woman taking her pleasure.

He was a man still hard, but hers for her bidding. Sitting over him, her body still tight, her muscles still taut, Lilith's eyes widened, as if for the first time she realised there was a heat deep inside her, another fuck, a man with hot blood in his veins.

Just a woman now, Lilith leaned forward to kiss him, to cradle his head in her hands. With his good arm Ulgrif embraced her, and again they began to move. Slowly this time, her wet cunt sliding on his length, they found a rhythm. They breathed into each other, and the rich aroma of her arousal rose up. She placed her arm under his neck, turning her body slightly so she wouldn't bump his shoulder, and traced patterns on his cheeks and jaw with her fingertip, her eyes wide open with a wonder, as if it was a first time.

She smiled, and Ulgrif melted, she was so tender.

"No queen then, lady, tonight?"

She laughed. "No queen, just a woman with her man, keeping warm."

Ulgrif smiled, he was still hers but didn't mind that; and slow became fast, and many heartbeats later he exploded his pleasure deep inside her, and she took hers again with a cry, resting her head on his shoulder after she came. They rolled onto their sides, Ulgrif still inside her, held close.

A short while later the gentle rain stopped, and Lilith and her soldier slept, battle worn and tired, but no fight between them, just a waiting place.