The Knights of the Public Realm Ch. 02

Decisively, or rather, hoping for the appearance of decisiveness, Ann spurred her horse in the direction of a small hamlet to the west of her castle. As her heels encouraged the horse into a gallop the rhythm of his hooves, the heaviness of his breath, the focus required to control and guide his strength consumed Ann entirely. This horse had been at her side for many years, had been named Pony by one of the kitchen girls young daughter, a name that Ann had joyously taken up. But the name underplayed the beast's incredible strength, a strength that passed from mount to rider. As she rode she blocked out the crowding of Sir Lawrence in her mind and thought only of the journey. They ate up the ground in front of them, racing across the undulating countryside, clearing the low hedgerows with ease.

As her breathing calmed and the tumult of the unexpected encounter began to clear, her mind began to make and remake the decision. Was this the right place to take him? Would he be impressed? Why on earth did she feel the need to impress him? The thoughts rattled through her mind, but the horse sped on, knowing the route they had taken often. Ann had ridden this path before, many times.

Ann did not always take naturally to the life of a Knight. She was skilled, talented, a fearsome warrior, a thoughtful and compassionate leader. But not always, in fact rarely, did she feel comfortable as the sole centre of attention. The eyes upon her wearied her, made her uncomfortable and self-doubting. And so Ann had found a way to escape, to ride out on her horse, not as a Knight but as a hooded stranger, to be alone amongst people, to watch without herself being watched. It was her sanctuary and in her haste she had chosen to lead Sir Lawrence to it, and her heart raced in fear and anticipation and expectation.

Just as her mind thought to turning back or deviating Pony from her course, Sir Lawrence charged past, his horse several hands taller than Pony, an undeniably magnificent beast. He handled him naturally, that horse an extension of his being it seemed. Of course he does! thought Ann, rolling her eyes at herself, silently criticising herself for being at all impressed by either man or horse. And yet the way he held himself in the saddle, his commanding presence, his surety, all of it captivated her, her eyes locked on him.

They were upon the village soon enough, slowing down to a canter as they passed villagers busy in the outlying fields. No words passed between them still, lost as they were in the journey. Pulling on her reigns, Ann slowed Pony to a languid trot, eventually pulling to a stop in a clearing between houses. Sliding from the saddle she led her to to a communal water trough, the horse thirsty from the hard journey.

Sir Lawrence jumped smoothly to a dismount nearby also, tethering his horse and striking off in another direction. Ann opened her mouth to call him back or to find out where he is going, but stopped herself. Let the insolent bastard go she decided and watched him stroll away. A breeze rippled between them, moving the leaves in the trees and bringing with it a most delightful sound.

The free easy laughter of a young woman, enraptured by something or someone. Lustful, playful, alluring it tweaked Ann's interest. Seeing that she was alone, her curiosity took over and she carefully approached a nearby ramshackle barn. It was crudely constructed, hastily put up to cope with a surprise surplus of hay that harvest. The slats were poorly joined, allowing sound out and sunlight in.

She approached cautiously, not wanting to disturb what could now be clearly heard. She recognised the female voice, giddy, giggling, as one of the village girls, Amy. Her blonde hair, ready smile and bright green eyes had caught Ann's attention several times on her previous visits. She would hear her singing in the impromptu taverns that would set up in the fields or barns. Ann would watch her, and watch the men watching her, marvelling at how she held their attention, how she enjoyed their desire and played with it, but gave nothing away.

The man's voice she did not recognise, although his purple tunic showed him to be one of Sir C's retinue. As she peered through a gap in the barns porous structure she could see his back although for a second could not see or hear Amy. The steward moaned pleasurably and his head rolled back, Ann suddenly seeing the loose blonde hair of Amy brushing against the outside of his thigh. Clearly she was pleasuring him, and doing so very well. Ann recoiled for a moment but was compelled to see more, to find a better vantage point. She felt oddly proud of the village girl, *her* village girl so skillfully in charge of his pleasure.

Ann circled the barn a little, finding another gap that offered a better view. From here she could Amy was naked, kneeling in front of him. The stewards cock was in her mouth still, hard and slightly curved. B's eyes devoured the sight as Amy, sharing a gaze with the steward, flicked her tongue over his tip, her hand slowly pumping his shaft, her grip firm, before taking half of his length back into her mouth. The steward shuddered with pleasure and his hands knotted in her hair. His moans became more and more urgent and, even though Ann's experience was not extensive she knew he was nearing climax.

Her lips looked exquisite wrapped around his shaft, and as Ann watched she became increasingly aware of her own arousal, a pleasurable warm buzz unfurling within her. She was watching Amy and the steward, but her mind had replaced them - unbidden - with her and Sir Lawrence. Ann watched and tried to learn, imagined kneeling in front of this new Knight and owning his pleasure as skilfully and as utterly as Amy was doing not 10 feet away from her. Ann began to imagine the feel of his cock in her mouth, it's warmth, it's strength, how silky soft it would be, how bringing pleasure to Sir Lawrence might bring her pleasure too. She bit her lip, her breathing now becoming ragged, her clit starting to twitch at the delicious thought.

But her reverie was broken, not by the steward reaching his climax but by him stopping Amy and instructing her to stand. Amy obeyed instantly, although she seemed a little sad that she had not made him come with her attentive mouth. Ann was affronted by the control he was showing, by the submission of the beautiful, independent woman so completely to him. Affronted and absolutely captivated. Thoughts of Sir Lawrence acting in such a commanding way flooded her, turning her on even more, her mind simultaneously welcoming and rebelling against the thoughts of submitting.

The steward, still fully clothed, turned Amy around and pushed her against a hay bale, her arms outstretched to brace, the curve of her ass silhouetted and alluring. The steward's hands gripped her hips hard, and Amy gasped as his strong hard cock slid into her, burying itself in her warmth. Ann smiled involuntarily, losing herself in the scene unfolding in front of her and her imagination combined. Despite herself she found her body longing to feel Sir Lawrence deep inside her too, to know what pleasure that might bring.

As her gaze roamed over their bodies, something caught her eye just beyond them, opposite where she stood. Something jarring. Something out of place. She scanned, her quick, clear eyes darting, until they finally rested on the problem. Another pair of eyes were watching the steward and the villager fuck just as intently as she had been. And, with crushing inevitability, they glanced up as she was contemplating how to move away quietly. She would, of course, recognise Sir Lawrence's eyes anywhere.

Ann quickly made for her horse, desperate to get away, unable to think of anything but fleeing. But before she could make it he was alongside her. Not grinning necessarily but looking very pleased.

"It seems you and I have a shared interest Ann."

He had moved and now stood in front of her, solidly blocking the path to her horse. Ann looked at the floor for a moment, narrowed her eyes and tried to calm her crimson cheeks. Sir Lawrence pounced on the lack of response and continued

"I thought they made an incredible scene together... although, had it been me, I would have spent some considerable time devouring her first."

Ann's mind raced and reeled. She wanted that, wanted the attention from his tongue. She had not been blessed with lovers skilled in that area. Or really any other areas come to that. But his confidence, his knowledge that might make something...well, something. But that thought was to be saved for later, right now she wanted the ground to swallow her up and hated him for the vulnerability of this moment, for seeing her, for knowing what she wanted, for knowing instinctively what she needed.

Ann managed to spit out a curt, perfunctory grunt in lieu of a response, step around him and sling herself onto Pony's back.

"I'm sure you'll find your own way back."

Ann gritted her teeth and spurred Pony out of the village at high speed. She didn't look back, but if she had she would have seen Sir Lawrence standing with his hands on his hips, shaking his head whilst smiling, increasingly enraptured by her.

As she rode homewards the embarrassment hardened into anger, softened into a lust and then finally subsided into the need to form a plan. The tournament would start the following day and last no more than a few days itself. If she could just keep out of his way whenever possible then she might just be able to get through the week. How hard could that be she said out loud, already doubting herself. She spurred Pony one final time at the sight of her castle in the distance, her mind filled with thoughts of food and drink and a hot bath. As long she could avoid him, his magnetic and diverting presence, then she'd be just fine.