The Warrior Queen

Breena looked down and saw the bottom of her breasts hanging just below the last of her dress. She quickly covered herself.

"I tore my dress for cloths to cool you and to bandage your leg again. Stop looking at me so I may put on something else."

Twindle grinned and then turned toward the fire. Breena found the soldier's undershirt, took off the remnant of her dress and pulled the shirt over her head. It was too large, but at least it covered her.

"You can turn back now. I have covered myself."

Twindle grinned when he looked at her again.

"I rather enjoyed your dress. A man's undershirt hides too much of a very beautiful and desirable woman."

"I would think you should worry about getting well instead of what clothes I wear."

Twindle chuckled.

"It is true that I am injured, but the injury is to my leg, not to my eyes", he winked one eye and grinned, "nor to anything else. I would not be a man if I did not admire beauty when I see it, nor would I be a man if that beauty did not stir my desire."

Breena wanted very much to change the subject of their conversation. Those words -- beauty and desire -- were words that spun her thoughts into confusion again. Did he really think as he spoke? He had been able to trick the King's soldiers out of their gold? Was he only trying to trick her as well?

"Are you hungry? I have some rabbit left. It is cold, but I can warm it in the fire."

Twindle smiled.

"Yes, I am hungry, but I wish to be dry before I eat.

He stood shakily, pulled the tunic over his head and tossed it to the side. After adding more wood to the fire, Twindle let the heat dry his body. At first, Breena only saw his strong legs, tight buttocks and the muscles that rippled over his shoulders and back. Then, Twindle turned around to dry his back.

Breena's heart skipped when she saw Twindle's manhood. At the time of her first moon-bleed, her mother had instructed her in the ways of men and women, but Breena had not imagined an organ so large. How could something so long and so thick fit into a space she knew to be so small. Twindle saw her staring and chuckled.

"Does my lack of clothing upset you?"

Breena forced her face into a wry smile.

"No, but men should not show their...themselves to women until they are wed."

Twindle chuckled again.

"There are many women in this world who would disagree with you. They seem to enjoy the sight of a man's...I know not the name you use. Some call it a horn but there are other names." He shrugged. "In any event, I see no harm in being without clothes, but I shall cover myself as soon as I am dry." He paused. "Of course, my tunic will have to dry also, so you may have to endure the sight of me for a while longer."

Breena retrieved the second soldier's leather trousers and undershirt from the pile beside the cavern wall and tossed them at Twindle's feet.

"I took these from the other soldier. They will cover you while your tunic dries. I will see to the horses while you dress."

The gelding was half the way down the deer path when she found him. It would not do for her to lose one of the horses. She did not know what course lay ahead, but she did know one horse would not carry both her and Twindle very far or very fast.

When she walked the gelding back into the clearing, Breena looked around the edges. Thick underbrush grew everywhere except for the narrow opening of the deer trail. Breena knew enough about horses to know the brush would keep them in the clearing. Horses did not venture where they could not see what lay ahead. Only the deer path was open, and any opening would attract a horse in search of better pasture.

With several long branches, Breena fashioned a blockade between the two trees that bounded the opening. That would keep the horses in the clearing. Another spot was open enough it might lead them to the stream, so she piled branches there from the trees to the pond. She then removed the saddles from both the mare and the gelding, so they might roll if they wished.

She was near the entrance to her cavern home when Breena heard a groan. Thinking Twindle had again been attacked by the spirits, she quickly covered the last few steps. Just as she was about to enter, she heard a voice from the cavern.

"Oh, Breena, my fair maid. Would that I were feeling your firm breasts pressing into my chest and your warm sheath clasping my cock."

Breena peered around the edge of the entrance, and stifled a gasp.

Twindle had not dressed. He was still standing, and his hand was stroking his manhood. What Breena had thought too long and thick to enter her was now even longer and thicker.

As Twindle continued to stroke his shaft, his breathing changed from deep and slow to quick pants. With a gasp, his hips lurched forward and his hand moved faster. A stream of white spurted from the swollen tip of his manhood and into the coals of the fire, then another, and yet still another. Twindle continued to stroke his manhood until it returned to the size Breena had seen before, then put on the pants and undershirt and sat down by the fire.

Breena's breathing had become faster too, and there was a wetness she could feel between her thighs, the same wetness that came when she caressed herself. Her mind struggled with the opposing thoughts that she should not have seen this but that she was aroused by having done so. She tried to imagine that large, stiff shaft sliding between her wet lips and deep inside her body. How would that feel? Her mother had said it would be painful the first time, but not painful after that, but how could being split by something so large not cause pain? It evidently did not, because Breena had never heard her mother cry out in agony on those nights when she opened herself to Breena's father. The next day, her mother seemed to be more relaxed and loving to her father, too. Surely she would not be so if coupling with him hurt.

Breena took a breath to clear her head, and walked into the cavern. Twindle smiled at her.

"I thought you had become lost and I would have to find you."

"No, the gelding strayed and I had to find him. I fixed it so he will stay here now. That is what took so long. Do you feel better now?"

Twindle stretched his arms and sighed.

"Almost good enough to go after this King and Queen you hate so much."

"You would leave? You are not yet well."

Breena's voice had sounded almost like a plea, and Twindle smiled at the thought that she seemed to want him to stay.

"I said almost, and I thought when I do leave, perhaps you would come with me. This hole in the rock is no home for a beautiful woman, and you will soon tire of eating rabbit, I think. My leg will have healed enough in a few days, and we will speak then of what we shall do."

[]

Twindle spent the next three days sleeping most of the time. Though Breena hadn't seen it, he told her the cut was healing quickly. By the fourth day, he could walk with almost no limp. On the fifth, he went with Breena when she made her daily visit to the horses. As he'd been doing since she fetched him back from the deer trail, the black gelding trotted up to Breena as soon as he saw her and nuzzled her shoulder.

Breena held out her hand and offered a handful of grass. The gelding's lips brushed her fingertips as he pulled the grass into his mouth and happily chewed it.

"He likes you, I think", chuckled Twindle. I suppose this means I have to ride the mare when we leave."

Breena laughed.

"I call him Rado, after my grandfather, because they were much the same. Both were tall and strong, and both would do anything for some bit of special food. He loves the grass I bring him from the other side of the pond, because he can not get there."

"And the mare?"

"She is Mancee. My aunt was named Mancee, and they are both the same too, calm and quiet, a little round in the belly, and strong and brave. See how she pushes Rado out of the way so she can get her share of the grass I brought?"

"II believe I like this mare. She is like a woman I know." He chuckled. "Riding a spirited one is always better than riding a meek one." He chuckled again. "I am speaking of horses, of course."

Twindle's crude joke was not lost on Breena, and she sought to give an answer that would tell him so. She smiled a knowing smile.

"I would imagine a spirited horse would rather be ridden by a rider gentle in the saddle than one who pushes her ahead without thinking of her comfort. I am, of course, also speaking of horses."

"Be assured, my beautiful one, I always think of my mount first, and of myself last. Good mounts are difficult to find and very easy to spoil with too firm a hand. Since we are speaking of riding, is it not time to seek out your friend and free her?"

Breena frowned, and then sighed.

"Would that I could, but what can the two of us do against the King's army? It would be as if a rabbit attacked a pack of wolves."

Twindle opened his hand.

"Just the two of us are probably not enough, but near here I have a few friends who might consent to help us, if you ask them nicely. First, though, we must retrieve my purse from its hiding place. Shall we rest tonight and leave in the morning?"

At dawn the next day, Breena and Twindle loaded the horses with the armor and weapons from the dead soldiers and rode out of the secluded clearing. They rode until the sun had moved from horizon to mid-sky without speaking, for each was occupied with their own thoughts.

Twindle was deciding how he would tell Breena the truth about how he came to fight the soldiers and why he had to fight them. He thought she would be pleased, but some of the women of his acquaintance would have stopped listening as soon as they realized they'd been told a lie. He finally decided to let her see for herself, and then explain.

He looked at the young woman sitting astride the black gelding. She was relaxed and rocked gently as the horse walked. The gentle rocking caused her full breasts to roll seductively under the loose man's undershirt she wore. They were same breasts he had seen peeking from under her dress that day, and the same breasts that had stirred his passions to the extent he had to relieve them himself. The leather trousers did not fit tightly when she stood, but sitting in the saddle, the leather pulled tight against her firm hips. It was not difficult for Twindle to imagine those hips writhing beneath him as they both reached their end, or for him to imagine how her heavy breasts would feel in his hands or against his chest.

Yes, he mused, she would be pure joy in their joining, and some men would have taken her, willing or not. He had known men who boasted of doing so, but knew he could never live with the guilt afterwards. Yes, she would be wonderful, but he would have no such joy unless she came to him willingly.

Breena struggled with more conflicting thoughts. She had abandoned her safe haven on the promise of help from a man she had just met. He had already confessed to being a thief, though he called himself something different. A thief might decide to give her up to the King's men. If that happened, her death would be certain. She fought the urge to wheel Rado and gallop in the opposite direction.

But, what if he was really going to help her? What if he did have friends that would also help? And what of the way he looked at her, smiled at her, and made remarks that were obvious references to coupling? What if he did like her? He had made no attempt to force her to do anything. A bad man would not have been so much a gentleman.

Was she going with him because he promised to help her, or was there something else - that little voice she kept pushing back into her mind? Her mother had taught her much about men and women, but nothing about how to sort out her own feelings.

The sun was high overhead when they came to a river. Twindle dismounted and began walking along the bank.

"It was in this general area. Look for three large rocks that rest against each other. The purse is under them."

Breena slid from the gelding's saddle and began walking with Twindle. Some time later he said, "Aha, there you are", and walked to the edge of the river. After pulling one of the stones to the side, he reached into the opening between the other two and pulled out a large leather purse. Breena heard a faint tinkle when Twindle shook the bad.

"Breena, come look and know that I was not lying."

Breena looked into the bag Twindle held open. Glittering gold coins almost filled it. She had seen a single travor, once, when a trader had shown it to her. Her mother and father never had gold, nor did anyone else in Uvil. If her father needed a new hoe, he traded three hens to the blacksmith. If the blacksmith needed a new shirt, he traded one of the hens to a seamstress. If the seamstress needed cloth, she paid the trader with two dozen of the hen's eggs. Here was a fortune such as no one in Uvil had ever seen.

"The soldiers had all of this? It seems more the purse of an officer than a common soldier."

Twindle shrugged, then smiled.

"There were many soldiers who wished some comfort on a cool night, and who was I to deny them if they were willing to pay?"

"You could have anything in the world with that much gold."

Twindle smiled again.

"Breena, when one has no gold, one thinks as such, but gold will not purchase that which I want."

"And what that be?"

"Oh, things, things we can speak of later. Right now, we must be on our way if we are to meet my friends before nightfall. I do not wish to spend a night in the open."

They rode on, over the low hills and into the shallow valleys of the Wild Lands toward the setting sun. When they chanced upon a stream, they drank and let the horses rest a while. They had no time to find food, and both were hungry when they rode over a hill and looked down into the valley below.

"Soldiers", whispered Breena. "The King's soldiers. Already they see us. We are lost."

As she had said, three soldiers on horses were galloping in their direction. Breena started to turn Rado, but Twindle caught the gelding's reins and held him.

"This is not the King's army, Breena. These are the friends I said might help us."

"You said a few. There must be thousands down there."

"A few over twenty thousand. The rest are away to the south, west and east or are still in Laney."

"The rest? How many are the rest?"

"Another forty thousand or so. It is difficult to keep track when some are ill and others are recovering from wounds."

The horsemen slowed to a trot as they approached, and the man in the lead raised his arm to his helmet.

"Your Highness, we are assembled as you requested."

"Were you seen leaving Laney."

"No, Your Highness. We left after the Queen's Guard secured those who would have betrayed us. Those same men are locked safely away and can send no message. I sent men to watch every way south to be certain, but they have seen no messengers.'

"What about the information we were to let them have -- about the attack from the east?"

"One of my archers pretended to be drunk on wine, and told a trader he was off to fight the Chandolay army in the east. Soon after that, the trader was seen riding off in the direction of Mynar. I believe the ruse will work. We will know in the morning, when our runner returns."

Twindle turned to Breena.

"Breena, this is General Torel, my most trusted officer. Go with him. He will see that you have food and drink, and a place to rest for the night. I must attend to some other duties, but I will join you when I finish."

He turned back to Torel.

"General Torel, Breena saved my life. See that she is cared for as you would your own daughter, and see that she lacks nothing within your power to give her."

Twindle rode down into the encampment and left Breena sitting on Bado with her mouth hanging open. From the time she had seen the army in the valley until she was alone with Torel seemed to be only a few heartbeats. How, why, who, all these question raced through her mind searching for answers. She found none.

"M'lady?"

Breena turned and saw Torel smiling.

"M'lady, you look confused, but it is not for me to remedy that. His Highness will explain, I am sure, when he returns. In the mean time, would you not enjoy a meal and a place to rest? If you will follow me, I shall take you to a place to stay, give you food to eat, and anything else I can provide. It would appear you are in need of some new clothes, are you not? I will see if I can find something more fitting of a lady than a common soldier's garments."

On the outside, it looked like the thousands of other tents pitched in the valley. The inside took Breena's breath away. The entire floor was covered with thick, wool carpets in many colors. At one side was a raised bed piled high with woolen blankets. At the other, two chairs and a wooden table sat with plates, cups, and eating utensils as if waiting for the diners to be seated. From the pole that held up the center were hung several brackets holding candles that lit the interior.

"It is no palace, M'lady, but it is better than sleeping on the ground. I believe we have some mutton stew still on the fire. May I bring you a bowl and some wine to drink?"

Breena could only nod. Torel turned on his heel and strode out of the tent, leaving her alone.

No palace, indeed, thought Breena. She could not imagine a place with more luxury. In her home in Uvil, the floor was earth covered with straw. It was cold in winter and dusty in summer. The carpets she now trod were clean and warm. In Uvil, she slept on a thin mattress stuffed with straw that provided little cushion against the boards that supported it. She sat on the bed at the side of the tent. It was as if she were sitting on an entire straw stack. In Uvil, people went to bed as the last rays of sun faded into the black of night. Candles were only used in the event one must move around in the dark, and then only one at a time. Here, so many candles burned that light reached even the furthest corner of the tent with its soft, flickering glow.

There was a knock on the pole at the entrance to the tent.

"M'lady, I have your supper. May I enter?"

Breena said "yes" and Torel brought in a huge bowl of steaming stew and a large cup of wine. Over one arm, he carried what seemed to be a roll of cloth. Torel sat the bowl and cup down on the table and then offered Breena the cloth over his arm.

"'I am no judge of women's clothing, M'lady, but perhaps this will do until I can find something more to your liking. Some of the men's wives travel with us as nurses, cooks and seamstresses. When I explained it was a request from His Highness, all were willing to supply a garment. I thought the woman who gave me this to be about your height."

Breena unrolled the garment and suppressed a gasp. The green dress was of a fiber she had never before seen. The texture was smooth, and the surface seemed to shine in the candlelight. Dainty, white lace trimmed the sleeves and neckline.

"What is this material?"

"It is called silk, M'lady, and comes from far away to the east. The woman who gave it to me is a seamstress who stitches wounds as well as clothing. One of my officers purchased the material from a trader, and gave it to the seamstress as thanks for stitching a wound. She made this dress from it."

Breena smiled.

"Torel, please thank the woman for me, but I could never take something so rare as this. Surely she has a more ordinary dress I might borrow."

"M'lady, the woman insisted I bring you this one. She said a woman who saved His Highness' life deserved nothing less. Now, if I may, I also have duties to which I must attend. I shall leave two guards outside your tent. Should you require anything else, just call for them. I will quickly learn of your request and make sure it is fulfilled."