Return Pt. 01

Author's Note: If you are an historian especially of the Medieval Period of Europe and the Middle East please do be aware that I have taken some serious liberties with all sorts of things, especially the time the story is set in, the people, the battle tactics and the politics so please accept this as a work of complete and utter fiction and not a new and butchered version of Medieval history. Thanx

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At the tender age of 16 I left home on the crusades, headed for the Holy land. I was "young Robert Montcrief, squire to Sir Glencourt of Glousterborough".

The trip to the Holy Land came as a bit of a shock to me but was prompted by a number of incidents or as my father called them "fracas" I had been involved in. The aforementioned fracas included drunkenness and poaching. So he decided that a couple of years in the army would straighten me out.

"Make a disciplined man out of you."

I was not amused. I failed to see how looking after a knight, which included cleaning armour, saddling horses and escorting very drunk knights home after parties would do anything to make a man of me. However, I had no option but to comply and after a thoroughly boring voyage across the Mediterranean sea I found myself in Jerusalem, the Holy City. Jerusalem was hot, dusty and crowded. The upside of the crowded bit was that it was full of people of all nationalities and creeds. Turks, Germans, Indians and even some Chinese. All speaking different languages. I found that I had a knack for languages and was soon bumbling my way through a couple of languages. French was easy as I already had a basic working knowledge of it, German not so easy, but my real triumph was in leaning Arabic, the language of the region. First I learnt it from the servants, then the shopkeepers and tradesmen, finally I found an old man who offered to teach me to speak Arabic "properly".

It turned out that he was a natural teacher. One of those teachers who cannot avoid teaching a willing student and somehow I had become a willing student.

Life became a routine affair. Occasionally we would go out on patrol, try to avoid trouble with the Muslims, return to Jerusalem, clean up, wait for another attack, do a bit of guard duty and fend off boredom. I used the quiet times to learn languages and anything else I could learn. My life remained so for two years until Sir Glencourt was killed in a skirmish with some raiders who appeared from nowhere out of the desert. They caught us completely wrong footed and he took a bad wound to the side. I was left in command. Not a happy situation with a third of our troop disabled or dead. I considered making a break for it, but I didn't think I would survive a such a move, besides which I would be leaving Sir Glencourt behind. And deserting the troop did not please me at all so I rallied the survivors, got us into a ring with lances pointing outwards. The lances made fast horse backed attacks difficult which meant that we could fight back keeping our losses low. I was astounded that it worked so well. We only lost one more soldier before a rescue party arrived and escorted us back to Jerusalem.

Word of my defence of Sir Glencourt got to the ears of the leader of our squadron and in light of my "bravery beyond the call" I was knighted on the spot. I was now 18 and much to my surprise Sir Robert Montcrief.

Needless to say, I went out on a wild party, accompanied by Sir Glencourt's retainers who it seemed had decided I was someone to be followed. The party was approved of by my retainers not only because I would be footing the bill but because as someone muttered, "it stops the dreams". When pressed he would say nothing more but I did notice that there were nods of agreement all round.

After drinking a lot of awful wine my eye fell on a plump woman who, after some negotiation in which my retainers became involved I found myself alone in a rather small room with Annie who looked me up and down, nodded then said.

"Joey and the boys say you a good un. Stayed with them when things got tight. Got them out."

"Safety in numbers." I muttered.

I now had no idea what to do and I was, to put it bluntly terrified, She watched me for a while.

"First time for you?"

I nodded sheepishly.

"OK. Not to worry, Annie will teach you the ropes."

She advanced on me, loosened my pants and had my cock out and in her mouth before I had really grasped what was happening. After a very short while she turned around, bent over and guided my cock into her pussy.

"Now fuck me!"

Having watched dogs and horses doing it I understood the command, grasped her hips and pushed my cock into her. The heat and wetness astounded me and destroyed my control so within a dozen thrusts I had dumped the contents of my balls into her.

She straightened up, pulled her dress down, kissed me on the cheek and left me to fasten my pants. I was greeted with much enthusiasm when I returned to the party.

"A stallion he is!" was Annie's comment which prompted cheers and more wine.

I passed out that night overwhelmed by the flood of wine I had drunk. It was the next night when I re-fought the battle in my dreams that the comment about dreams finally made sense. I awoke, sweating and crying. Not a great way to start the day.

A year after my knighthood, word arrived that my father Sir Percival of Montcrief had died and that his liege lord, Lord Michael Hugemont, demanded my return to take over the estate my late father had held in fealty to him. Lord Hugemont had a much influence in the English court so I had little or no choice but to return to England. I was secretly quite pleased to be leaving Jerusalem as the Crusade was beginning to look like a lost cause. Literally and figuratively a dead end as the Moors swept in, their experience in desert warfare and superior weaponry making survival let alone victory difficult to achieve. Holding on was the order of the day and soon the name Saladin was being whispered in the messes.

Thus I was granted leave to return to England albeit reluctantly by the Crusade leaders. Just after my twentieth birthday I set out by boat for England. A long, slow trip it was. We sailed across the Mediterranean, stopping at Naples and then Oporto before crossing the English channel to Dover. At Dover, I hired a horse, ordered my luggage to be transported to what was now my manor and set out mid-afternoon for the manor house which was now mine by inheritance and I suppose you could say Divine Right. Having talked to the people of the Middle East I began to get the idea that the there might be more than one god and if so the Divine Right idea might be standing on very shaky ground. Not that I was going to rock the boat and complain mind you. Divine Right had given me a country house, some lands and an easy living for the rest of my life. The only things I needed to do was to sire a strong son and to be around when Lord Michael Hugemont wanted an escort to London. The escort was mainly, I thought to impress the masses, but as I said; who was I to complain?

I arrived in early evening and was greeted with much astonishment and joy by the retainers. I was not so happily greeted by Judy, my step mother. My father, randy old goat that he had been had rapidly replaced my beloved mother Merryl with what I considered at the time as a slattern and a gold digger. She was exceptionally beautiful and exceedingly vain, dressing in the latest styles and fashions. She always looked like she might have been a woman of easy virtue that hung around the brothels of London. I sometimes suspected that was exactly where she came from and I remonstrated with my father about her but he was adamant. He said that he had sired a good strong son, been faithful to his beautiful Merryl until she died. So, having fulfilled all his duties to god and country, he was free to indulge his fancy for a "pretty flower to brighten my last years" as he called her. My problem was that what she seemed to lack a functioning brain. She babbled incessantly about trivia and of times I would leave the withdrawing room as soon as decent, just to get away from her persistent stream of inanities.

I ordered a good supper from the kitchen, asked about Judy and when informed that she was home, I sent someone to summon her. It took her nearly an hour to arrive. Her late arrival probably occasioned by her preparations. When she arrived she was all tarted up which did not please me in the least. Cook had already served the first course of supper, and had retreated to work more of her magic in the kitchen before Judy swept in. And swept in was the exactly correct description. She was dressed flamboyantly and sexily, exposing vast areas of flesh. Having spent years in the Holy Land where the women dressed in long, shapeless dresses and wore masks she came as a bit of a shock.

"Roger Dahling!" she shouted. "Its so good to see you again. And my dear! Have you grown into a fine looking man."

"Shut up!"

"Shut up! What would you poor father have to say about your rudeness and cruelty to his beloved wife. If he were alive... "

"I wouldn't be here listening to your noisome chatter."

"Oh, what a beast you are! I feel quite faint at the horror of it all."

"If you don't shut up and shut up now, I shall have the grooms come in and hold you down while I horse whip you."

"Oh, you have learnt a lot while you've been gone haven't you? You enjoy whipping women? I could tell before you left that you would love to take a switch to my backside. And," she added with a leer "You won't have to call the grooms. See? I will lay myself on the table, baring my beautiful backside for you to punish!"

So saying she did just that. Lay on the table, face down, her backside ready for me to thrash. I sat gaping at this extraordinary turn of events.

"Your late father, God bless his gentle soul, did so love to administer a good horse whipping to me. Such a disappointment when he became too weak and elderly to enjoy the exercise. Oh, do please hurry up! I have missed having my backside well warmed by a firm hand. And from the looks of you, you could administer a very firm beating. Oh, you are making me so wet, just thinking about it."

She went silent for a while, then:

"Your fathers horse whip is there by the fire. He always loved to have it close to hand so that he could have an impromptu whipping at short notice."

So help me, I do not know what made me do it, but I strode across to the fire place, picked up the horse whip and hit her across the backside. She didn't make a sound, didn't move and I left no mark on her plump white backside. Eventually she said:

"Oh, no! You cannot disappoint me like that. Hit harder! I scarce felt that one."

I hit a trifle harder. She squeaked softly.

"Oh! Are you so weak?"

The last question loosened something in my soul. I had been a sea for months, I was tired, dirty and missing my father and here was his fat, noisy woman criticising me. Before I could think about it I had swung the horse whip over my shoulder and then down, throwing all of my sword arm power into the strike.

"Aaaahh! Fuck! Better! Do it again!"

I looked at her backside and there was a red stripe running diagonally across her backside.

"Unbalanced." I thought to myself, and brought the whip down so that it would make a red diagonal stripe across her back side at right angles to the original one. She howled again. I noticed with vague unease that I was getting an erection and her pussy was starting to look exceptionally inviting.

"And.." I thought to myself "a stripe straight across her backside would make a nice pattern."

I put this plan into action immediately. The effect was wonderful, she howled magnificently, the red stripe was exactly as I wanted it and the pattern was complete. Only one thing was left to be done. Before she could stand up, I strode across to her, pushed her legs apart and thrust my aching cock into her hot and surprisingly wet pussy. The excitement and lust that beating her backside had built up inside me ensured that I did not last long before I pumped hot cum into her.

Having slaked my lust, I suddenly felt solicitous to the woman. I bent forward, kissed the red marked backside, pulled her dress down and escorted her to a very well padded chair whose purpose was now so obvious, sat her down and gave her a large glass of wine. Cook must have been waiting patiently in the wings because the moment Judy was settled into the chair she arrived with the next course of supper. I wondered how often this sort of scene had happened before with my father, laying into Judy's backside with the horse whip and then Cook arriving with supper.

"Thank you. I needed that release. I gather from what you said my father used to do much the same with you?"

She had the good grace to blush.

"Yes. He did. He did so love the exercise. He was so disappointed when he couldn't thrash me properly any more. I had to fake it to make him feel better. You on the other hand have a marvellous talent with that horse whip and with that hot, hard cock of yours. Fatter than your Fathers by far and harder but the hardness comes with youth I suppose."

"Do you seriously enjoy being thrashed like that?"

She took a deep swig of wine and stared at the fire for a while.

"Yes. I suppose I do. It comes from somewhere deep in my soul. I need to be thrashed. If I don't get a good thrashing regularly I become mean and nasty. Brattish your father used to call it. I provoke the man in my life until he thrashes me and then I am at peace again for a while, until the urge rises up in me again and I start pushing for another beating. Your father had the right make up to be able to thrash me, then love me afterwards."

She paused for a while, then:

"I hope you can do that for me as well. Both the thrashing then the love. You did that didn't you? Thrashed me, then lifted me up, kissed my backside too! And looked after me. Your father was a good man. I think you follow in his footsteps."

She sighed, then took another healthy sip of wine.

"Did you meet any Muslim scientists?"

The complete change of direction in our conversation would have been enough to stop me in my tracks, but the earnestness with which she asked the question threw me utterly.

"Scientists?" I managed to get out. "What sort of scientists?"

She stared at the fire obviously thinking hard.

"Mathematicians, astronomers, medical doctors." She stopped. Obviously not expecting a sensible answer. I had after all been a soldier engaged in the rough and tumble of desert warfare not on a sight seeing tour.

"Metallurgists?" she added hopefully.

Which was what unfroze my brain. I remembered my utter fascination with the weapons the Muslims carried.

"Bentley!"

"Sir?"

"Have my bags and boxes arrived?"

"Yes my lord. They are in the front hall."

"Go there please, find the box marked "Swords", open it and bring me the curved sword that is in there."

"Yes, my lord."

We waited in silence. Bentley soon returned with the scimitar I had taken off a battle field. I unsheathed it and held it up to the light.

"Muslim steel! It glows blue in the light. Beautiful sight."

I flexed it in my hands

"And terrifyingly sharp."

I took a silken kerchief out of my pocket, flicked it in the air and cut it in half with the scimitar. Then I took the tip and bent the tip around so it nearly touched the pommel.

"Their metallurgists are the best in the world. They mix the steel with carbon and other additives and then fold it over and over again till you get this."

I held the weapon out to Judy who took it as if handling a holy relic.

"Exquisite!" she murmured. The Judy I had believed I knew, was gone and someone else was there. She reminded me of the old Muslim man I met in Jerusalem. Almost blind, "from staring at the sun you know" but as sharp a mind as any I had ever encountered. I met him one day when trying to get someone, anyone to explain to me how the scimitars could be so sharp and so flexible. He took me on a magic carpet ride of education. When I wasn't fighting, cleaning and doing my duties I would seek him out and he would talk of astronomy, of maths which I did not understand, of medicine, of poetry.

I found myself telling Judy all of this. She listened, asked sensible, thoughtful questions and urged me to keep on talking long after supper was over and I was drooping from tiredness.

Deep in the night, I awoke from a dream of battle, of pain, of fear. I rose out of my sleep shouting, fighting, wrestling someone. When I awoke completely I found that the person I was fighting was not a Muslim soldier but Judy who was in bed with me, was holding me, murmuring gently to me. When I stopped fighting her, she slid down the length of my body and took my limp cock in her mouth and with consummate skill brought it back to life until I was hard and rampant. Then she swung a leg over me and slowly lowered herself onto my cock, pressing down on me, moaning softly as she did and then rapidly draining my balls into her warm, plump body.

"I am going to have to teach you to pleasure a woman." she said after we were finished. "You will need to know how to do that because when you pleasure her to her limit, your seed will take more easily and she will bear you strong sons."

The thought of fucking Judy regularly made me smile as I drifted off to sleep. Nothing like lust to change your mind.

The early morning sounds of the manor and the farm roused me from sleep, slowly and peacefully. Lying next to me asleep was Judy, naked as the day she was born. I reached out and touched her soft curvy body. She was different from the woman I had paid for sex in Naples on the way back, who was lean and hard bodied with short hair. I found her near the docks the evening we docked. She spoke an understandable version of Latin that I finally realised was actually Italian. We negotiated a price and we completed the deal with her leaning against the wall of a church. I lasted much longer in Naples than I did with Judy. Probably fear, cold and my inexperience. It had been an unsatisfactory episode, made even worse by the sailors who laughed at me when I told them what I had paid. Seems I had been taken for a fool. But Judy was something else. Soft, comfortable and comforting. I let my hands wander freely over her body, touching her breasts, her nipples rising up to meet my fingers. I leant forward and ran my mouth over her shoulder, tasting her scent, smelling the musky smell of our earlier fuck. My hands slowly traced their way over her soft plump belly and found, instead of the bare pussy of the woman in Naples, I found a fur covered mound still wet from our combined juices. As I dragged my fingers down between her legs, she sighed softly, took my index finger and pressed it down into the slit of her pussy.

"Softly, slowly. Just bit higher. Ah, that is right, keep that finger going."

I followed her instructions, feeling the little nub under my finger becoming more prominent like tiny cock. She rolled onto her back to make my access to her pussy easier which brought her beautiful breast within reach of my mouth. Without thinking I took a nipple into my mouth and sucked.

"Mmm, bite softly there." she murmured "Oh, yes. That is just right. Not too hard. Don't stop."

Her hand somehow found my cock which needed no coaxing. It was hard and aching and all I wanted to do was slide it into her hot wet cunt. I swung a leg over her leg, the knee between her thighs and rose up over her, ready to slam my cock into her but she grabbed my cock, stopping me from penetrating her.

"Wait. Wait. Please wait."

She used the head of my cock to rub that nub my finger had been rubbing. The effect on her was fascinating and incredibly arousing.

"OH, fuck. Fuck. You are so hard. Ah, god."

Her hand slid away, but instead of pushing my cock into her as I really wanted to, I continued the rubbing action and was rewarded by her making incoherent noises, thrashing back and forth, becoming more and more noisy as I rubbed at her.

"Ah, Jesus. Fuck me. Fuck me."

Which is what I did. I thrust into her, pushing her down into the mattress. I could hear our noises, the slap of my hips against her backside, her incoherent moans and my grunting until the inevitable happened and I pumped more hot cum inside her.

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My day was filled with the duties of running the farm of which I had had little experience and would have been out of my depth if not for my fathers faithful retainer Charles who had been running the affairs of the estate according to Cook for the last decade, my father having lost interest in the farm after my mother died. Charles was the first in a long line of people wanting to talk to me. He was naturally enough worried that I would stop using him as a manager and it showed but Judy's parting words echoed in my head.

"Charles is a good, organised man. Made the farm productive and profitable."

I sat him down, much to his discomfort.

"How long have you been acting as manager on the farm Charles?

"At least 10 years my lord." The poor man was nervously playing with his cap and staring at his feet. I couldn't play the man like this.

"I am told I would be a fool to get rid of you and run the farm myself. I don't know how to and you do, so, please continue. But tell me about the farm and what is happening."

The next half hour merely convinced me that Charles was staying right where he was. When he left, we were both happy with our arrangement. The rest of the morning passed with the various tenants and workers coming to pay their respects and try to confirm that they were still employed. Few got any bad news. One or two got serious warnings, but the morning ran off successfully. The last person in the queue was to my vast surprise, Judy.

"Judy? What are doing waiting in the petitioners queue?"

"Your father gave me exclusive right of occupation of the East Wing, my lord." Such formality was out of place considering our early morning romp.

Now the East Wing had been in the back of my mind since the queue of petitioners arrived. As a child, I was banned from going into the East Wing on pain of a serious thrashing. It was not a particularly enticing place, cold and dark with few windows, it was supposedly haunted by vicious monsters. At least that was what I had been told as soon as I was able to understand such concepts. I had decided a visit was definitely required, ghosts or not but now suddenly my interest was even more piqued.

"What on earth do you want with the East Wing? Cold, dark and full of supernatural creatures I was told." The last bit said with a smile.

Still looking at her feet, no laughter, just a serious answer.

"Science my lord."

"OK, explain."

"May I suggest that you come and see for yourself my lord?"

"For heavens sake woman, four hours ago you were yelling, "Fuck me!" so that the whole of the house could hear, now stop the "my lord" stuff and let's go see what you are doing there."

I got a smile for that comment.

"But I prefer calling you "my lord". Please let me continue. At least in public."

No answer to that. I sighed, got up and I headed for the East Wing wondering what on god's earth I was going to see there. The old Muslim man's rule, "never judge till you see for yourself" rang in my head as we went down the long corridor.

We came to a halt before the solid wooden door that had always barred my entrance since I was a child. It had always been locked and I had never seen or heard of a key that would unlock the door. From a belt hidden under her flowing clothes, Judy extracted a large key and unlocked the door and for the first time in my entire life, I entered the East Wing.

The whole of the East Wing had been divided into two large rooms instead of the six rooms I had been expecting. Normally the wing would have been divided into small rooms, large enough to be comfortable bedrooms. A single corridor ran down the centre with doors allowing access to a large room on either side of the passage. Judy turned into the south facing room. It was a work room that contained benches on which rested glass boxes. The boxes contained a wild profusion of plants of every sort. A few contained plants and flowers I recognised from being from the area surrounding the manor. But others had a wild mix of exotic plants. Some that I recognised as being from the dry, arid regions of the Holy Land, other seemed to be almost swimming in humidity.

I was amazed at the profusion of plant life and the room had the smell of rich tilled soil.

"What is this all about?"

"I am studying plants, hereditary traits, adaptability and economic value."

"Simple terms please." I realised I was completely out of my depth and that another total re-evaluation of Judy was probably necessary.

"I am looking for and trying to develop plants that give high yields of crops, that grow fast and don't die easily."

"Any success?"

"We have planted a new strain of wheat. If it behaves outside as it did here we should harvest about a third more and much sooner than our neighbours."

I nodded wisely to hide my confusion.

"And the other side?"

"My play area."

She led me through to the other side. More benches, tables and an artists easel.

"Mathematics, chemistry and art."

My first inclination was to throw her out. The whole business looked like witchcraft to me, if not witchcraft then possibly heresy. She could get herself burned at the stake for this and me disgraced, exiled.

"My father knew about this?"

She hesitated.

"Not entirely. I lied to him a bit. Sold him on the improved crops. Didn't mention the other things."

"Equipment that looks like it is used in the dark arts? Do you have any idea the penalty for witchcraft? Why did you show me then? You could have told the same story without the visit." I was furious, unsettled, angry.

"You were different. Your enthusiasm for that scimitar. Not as a weapon but as a work of science. I thought you would appreciate all this."

She gestured around, looking scared and helpless.

"Give me the key. OUT!"

She scuttled out of the door and I slammed and locked it, pocketing the key.

"Go to your room. Stay there!"

She hurried away.

I ate alone that evening. As I sat and thought, worried about the consequences of any action I took Cook arrived with the groundsman in tow.

"Please my lord Tom would like a word. Urgent like"

I have always liked and trusted Cook so despite my terrible funk I looked at Tom.

"Well Tom?"

"Excuse me my lord."

"Yes Get on with it."

"Its about those plants of Miss Judy sir."

"What about them?"

"She's no witch sir. We worked on those plants together and I am a good Christian sir."

Cook nodded furiously in the background.

"You see my lord, we worked together on those plants. No witchery there. Just good old fashioned hard work and dedication. She knows and loves plants. Our crop will be better than she thought. I can see it happening with my very eyes."

"And?"

"If she don't get into the greenhouse years of work will be lost. A terrible waste it would be sir."

I stared into the distance, feeling cornered, out of my depth. Terrified of making the wrong decision.

"Thank you Tom. Please wait outside."

"Cook? How long have you known me?"

"Since you were a baby m lord."

"Yes. And you have carefully guided me without pushing. Careful nudges?"

Cook looked uncomfortable. Shifted from foot to foot. Then reluctantly

"Yes, Sir."

"This is another careful nudge?"

She tried not to look at me but eventually nodded. I looked at her and realised she was afraid.

"Are you afraid of me Cook?"

Reluctantly she nodded.

"Why?"

She took a deep breath. Held it for a long time.

"You've always been wild but now... you've grown older. Your father sent you away to tame your wildness but it didn't work. You fought battles and you have killed. And it shows on you."

I stared into the abyss that normally visited me at night, like it did the night when I awoke screaming to find Judy holding me. I didn't need people afraid of me. I looked at Cook trembling in front of me. I remembered the men, common men who stood at my side and fought with me. Some died, others were wounded, but we were comrades, bound by blood. They saved me by guarding my back when they could have fled. They owed me nothing but they stayed. We got drunk together. Mourned our dead together. Now there were more people who stood at my side. Taking chances at my stability.

Damn! I stood up, gathered Cook into my arms and held her.

"Thank you." I said.

"Tom! Come on in."

He came in looking fearful but relaxed slightly when he saw Cook still standing there.

"Tom. How do we stop bad stories about what we are doing?"

He grinned with delight.

"Miss Judy Sir. She says we just give our neighbours some seed. Tell 'em you brought some back from the Holy Land so that the seed is blessed."

"What a devious woman! But damn me if it won't work. Tomorrow at dawn we go to inspect those fields of ours. Now go home to your family."

Tom's smile spread from ear to ear.

"Thank you sir!" and was gone.

"Cook. One last duty for tonight please. Bring a light supper to my room and then tell Miss Judy that supper is served."

I swear Cook floated out of the room. Me? I sat and wept quietly for my lost innocence.

Cook looked in at me and nodded.

Judy and I met at my door. She looked uncertain but I smiled, held the door open and ushered her in. I served her her supper and when she had eaten I took her by the hand and led her to the bed.

"Time for my lessons in love," I said.

Judy took a deep breath, then smiled.

"First you must kiss a lady tenderly, softly on the lips."slowly bringing it to life.

I needed no more encouragement and I learned the intricacies of undressing a woman and firing her lust at the same time. I got to suck on her nipples then trace my tongue down across her chest and around her belly button. And then slowly approached the core of her sex, taking the tiny nub between my lips and I found that a finger slid slowly into her pussy caused her to moan softly, two fingers increased the sound and regularity makes her moan "Oh! Oh! Oh!" and thrash around on the bed, her hands tangled in my hair and her hips thrusting up against my mouth.

Being a terrible tease, I slowed down until she shouted, "No! Don't stop!" and I started again but ever so slowly and I found that I now have control and she was begging for release as I teased her, keeping her just on the edge. When we finally came together she slaps my backside softy.

"You dog!" she whispered and cuddled into my arms.

====

"Condolences on the death of your father."

"Thank you, Lord Hugemont. His sudden death was a shock to us all."

The fact that my father had been dead and buried doesn't seem to occur to Lord Hugemont. We maintain a respectful silence, then

"We heard some good things about you from the Holy Land. A battlefield knighthood does not happen all too often. Especially from those Crusader bods. Damned stuck up they are. And now you are causing a stir with that new wheat you brought back from the Holy Land with you. Lord Jocelyn remarked to me that you must have sent it with a carrier pigeon because it was growing in one of your fields before you got back."

I saw a roguish twinkle in his eye I realised that I might get away with my rather transparent lies if I told the truth.

"Tom, my gardener and fields man actually bred it for us. He was afraid of being accused of heresy or witchcraft so I lied for him. I did a full confession to Bishop Roger. Told him all and gave him a bag of seed. I got full absolution. He omitted telling me not to sin again which was an encouraging indication of his stance on the matter."

"And Lady Judy, your father's widow? She had nothing to do with that wheat breeding? She has a reputation as a bit of a maverick scientist in London."

"I plead guilty again to smudging the truth a bit."

"I thought as much. And I see she is with you here and my wife says it looks like she is pregnant. I assume you had nothing to do with that?"

Again the roguish smile. I smiled and said no more. She had vowed to rid herself of it if I asked her to, but I said no because I had been as delighted as she was.

"You cannot marry her. I will not allow you to. I have a bride in mind for you."

"Lady Judy said you might not sanction our wedding. She whispered that Lady Esme Jocelyn as your choice."

Lord Hugemont burst out. "Can I keep no secrets in this world?"

"It would seem not my lord,"

"Lord Jocelyn has lands to the south and east of you holdings. If you marry Lady Esme you will inherit his lands when he dies. And as you may know he is not in good health. When you inherit, you will be able to secure that entire border for us."

"That will be a great honour my lord."

"You will have to be presented at court for the King to approve the union, but your reputation at court is firmly entrenched already. So, after this weekend we will go to London and you will be presented to the king. To give us an extra lever I suggest you try to seduce Lady Esme this weekend. I don't think she will be much averse to marrying you as all the other claimants are at least twice her age and widowed at least once."

"Is Lady Esme aware of this plot?"

"She is being told at present."

====

That evening there was a formal banquet from which Judy excused herself.

"We can't have Esme seeing me as a rival now can we? She must believe I am your slattern, whore, whatever! She must be assured that you favour her way above me, And no! Do not look at me like that. This is politics. Get her pregnant with strong sons and you can come any time to me for raucous fun."

I was seated not unsurprisingly between Lady Esme and Lady Dianne Hugemont and I made a point giving Lady Esme as much attention as possible without ignoring Lady Dianne who, in fact wordlessly indicated I should concentrate on Lady Esme.

Lady Esme was everything that Judy was not. She was slim, small and almost platinum blonde. Quiet and subdued she seldom ventured more than the occasional remark or question until I mentioned the Muslim teachers I had met.

"Did they speak English?"

"No, mostly only Arabic."

"You speak and understand Arabic?"

"Yes. I find languages easy to pick up. I also speak French, German and Latin reasonably fluently. Latin gives me a wobbly sort of Italian."

She laughed at my "wobbly" Italian comment.

"Who did you talk to in your "wobbly" Italian? Did they laugh or were they helpful?"

Which put me in a difficult position. The only person I had spoken Italian to was the prostitute in Naples. I paused, thinking frantically which caused Esme to laugh.

"You bought the services of a prostitute! You naughty man!"

God help me, I blushed which made her laugh all the more, then fan herself and say, "Oh, dear! Oh dear! you do blush so beautifully."

And then from somewhere I found the perfect retort.

"And you laugh so beautifully!"

"Flattery will get you very far!"

On a winning streak I added, "And you are very intelligent which is far more attractive than any cosmetics." At which stage she blushed.

"You are aiming at my downfall Sir, I can see that quite clearly. Where exactly are you going with this flattery?"

My mad brain suggested an answer but I took a deep breath and thought carefully.

"Don't lose you courage now Sir, I would hate to think you are afraid of a mere slip of a woman!"

"I am trying to preserve the reputation of my future wife and mother of my children."

"I don't think that is really an issue is it now? They have already decided we are to be married so even if my reputation is in tatters we will still be wed. Does my reputation really concern you that much? Everyone at this table knows we are going to be making the two backed beast before we leave for London. And if we are talking reputations Lady Judy, whom I am told is pregnant by you does not do your reputation much good."

"I surrender! I was merely flirting and I appear to have underestimated you. I humbly cede the game to you."

"And win it by ceding."

She pointedly looked at her mother seated down the table from us and nodded. Her mother raised a glass of wine to her as a toast and then leaned over to whisper in Lord Jocelyn's ear. He nodded and smiled benignly at us.

"This was a test?"

She nodded.

"I am a wilful child I am afraid. They have battled get me suitably wed. I have rejected all previous suitors. Too old, too stupid, too arrogant. You passed all my tests. You win the prize of deflowering me."

"The prize I think, is winning you as wife."

"Flattery will get you into my bed tonight. Beth my maid will come fetch you from your room a while after this tedious banquet is over. I hope you will be up to the task. And you leave Lady Judy alone till we are wed."

Strong willed woman! I was not sure if I would survive.

====

An hour after the banquet ends there was a discrete knock on my door and I followed Beth to Esme's room.

The room was softly lit and I could see Esme standing at the window in almost transparent night clothes. A warm draft moved the clothes gently giving fleeting glimpses of her slender body. She looked stunningly beautiful and suddenly vulnerable as if the bravado of earlier had deserted her and she was suddenly afraid.

I was uncertain if it this was another test or if she was genuinely afraid but whatever it was all I wanted to do was hold her in my arms, reassure her and protect her.

She was soft and seemed to fit into my arms as if she was made to be there. She looked up at me.

"Please be gentle." is all she said,

I kissed her neck and whispered, "Of course."

She seemed to sag just a bit so I lifted her up into my arms and carried her to the bed and laid her down there.

We kissed, entangled in each other's arms and my hands started to explore her soft curves and, as my hands found her backside she murmured "Oh," softly in my neck.

I slid her top down, exposing her small delicate breasts and kissed them Her nipples grew hard in my mouth.

"Yes! Oh god! Yes!"

Impatient now I pulled her night dress up, exposing her naked pussy and ran my fingers slowly up and down till her legs start to part and I felt her wetness on my fingers. Her clit is quite big and she responded to my ministrations with gasps and moans, spreading her legs wide and then wider still.

"Take me now." whispered softly.

I climbed between her legs and rubbed the tip of my cock on her virgin slit.

"Don't tease! Do it! Take it now!"

I pushed forward slowly into her till I felt the resistance of her hymen. She was moaning and writhing now.

"Do it! Do it! Now!"

I pulled back and then thrust forward, hard. I felt her hymen break.

"Ah! Fuck! Don't stop! Jesus! Give me you seed. All of it!"

I tried to exercise control but her total arousal stripped me of any control I might have had and I hammered into her. The sound of the slapping of our flesh against each other and her animal moans filled the chamber until I feel the surge of semen racing out of me and into her. I kept going till nothing more was left and I collapsed, first onto her, then off and hold her in my arms.

"You are still hard?"

"Only just." I said,

"Can you do it again now?"

I don't answer, I just started pumping into her again and as I did I started to get hard again. I continued pumping into her this time slowly and lingeringly, building us both up to another climax.

"Oh, my! That was good!" she said when its over then cuddled into me and fell asleep.

=====

We arrived at breakfast together the next morning. Esme glowing like a princess.

"You sleep well last night?" her mother asked archly.

"Yes thank you Mama! And you?"

"Yes but only after you two had quietened down."

Esme just blushed.

"I hear Jerusalem has fallen to the Moors."

"Saladin is a very good commander My Lord. I fought his troops a number of times and they were well equipped and trained. But he also has the advantage of short supply lines and soldiers accustomed to desert warfare. The desert is an unforgiving environment."

"A wasted effort?"

"No My Lord. We held the Holy City for a brief while and we learnt much about the Muslims. We will see more of them yet and will need to be able to counter them."

Lord Hugemont lost interest in the conversation and I gratefully sank back into invisibility.

Later that day I was summoned to Lord Hugemont's office.

"You told Lady Esme you speak Arabic? How fluent are you?"

"Reasonably fluent My Lord. I occasionally did translator duties for the Governor of Jerusalem. Both prisoners and envoys from Saladin."

"A rider arrived from London asking the same questions as I have just asked. He came from the Palace. Seems they are expecting a visit from a Muslim Ambassador and the palace needs a translator. Lady Esme will follow by coach at a comfortable pace on Monday and will arrive next Friday. Lady Judy will be sent back to your home today. Go pack a light bag and meet me outside. And no, there is not time for farewells. You pack and we leave now."

====

I walked up the long aisle toward the throne where the king was seated, bow and take a low bench to his right and then we waited. Suddenly there was movement and a group of Muslims walk up the aisle towards us.

"Greetings King Roger. I regret that my English is not sufficiently fluent to carry on a sensible conversation with you."

The leader of the party struggled with the sentence and it sounds as if he had learned the sentence by rote.

"Welcome Sheikh Abraham. We have a translator who is fluent in Arabic." The king gestured for me to translate and Sheikh Abraham looked at me obviously not having really seen me. The Sheikh smiled.

"Salaam "Ring of Spears". It is both a surprise and a pleasure to see you." he says in Arabic. I bowed, touched my right hand to my chest.

"Salaam Sheikh Abraham. I fear I have not met you before. I am instructed not to stand so I cannot be polite as you may be expecting of me."

I paused.

"The king bids you welcome and recommends me as a translator."

"Thank you Ring of Spears. We have not met but your reputation is well known in Jerusalem, especially after that defence of your dying lord on the battle field. Please tell the king that we are happy to have you as a translator and we pray for him and his family and thank him for his hospitality."

I turned to the king who was beginning to look impatient.

"The sheikh says thank you for your hospitality and says that he accepts me as a translator."

"There seemed to be a lot more in that conversation than what you have described. What else was said?"

"The sheikh says that he recognises me from my time in Jerusalem. He referred to the battle where Sir Glencourt died and has used a nick name for me that I heard was current in Jerusalem from after that battle."

The king nodded.

"We will discuss that later, but now for business."

The next hour was spent in discussions as to what is to be said and done during the Sheikh's visit. After the sheikh and his party leave, I about interrogated about what was said and the king laughed at my nick name.

"You obviously made an impression."

"It would seem so Your Majesty. May I make one suggestion?"

"Yes. Go ahead."

"Please let us not give them pork. It is a forbidden food in Arabia."

"What's wrong with pork? Perfectly good food."

"Not in the desert Your Majesty. The tremendous heat turns pork rapidly and bad pork as you may be aware can cause serious illness. It is a health issue."

The king nodded.

"You may leave now, but be sure to be contactable at all times."

I got up and stumbled out of the throne room more shaken by the stress than I could remember after a battle.

"Well done!"

A sardonic, female voice purred at me from the shadows of doorway. Startled I turned and looked into the shadows. A tall, woman in a very fine dress and headdress was standing there obviously waiting for me.

"Thank you." I stammered.

"Come. A large draught of wine and a then a meal will calm the shattered nerves. I am Jessica by the way."

"I need to be contactable by the king."

"He is aware that you will be in my care and will send for me and will expect me to produce you refreshed and ready for service. Come!"

She opened the door behind her and led me through dark corridors to a small dining room. We sat down in comfortable chairs and are served wine and a vast dinner.

"Sleep is next on the program. Go lie down in there. I will call you if you are needed."

I went into a room with a large bed and not much else. I was exhausted not only from the translation but from the forced journey to London. I had had no proper sleep or rest in about 48 hours so I kicked my boots off, loosened my clothes, collapsed on the bed and almost immediately passed out.

I awoke suddenly. I learnt to sleep lightly and listen for changes in my surroundings and something had changed and alerted my battle trained sub conscious. I felt a presence next to me. I felt for my knife, realised it was taken from me before going into the throne room and not returned to me, so I grabbed at the closest moving object, pulling it down onto the bed hard which elicits a female scream.

I rolled the person onto their back and swing a leg over their body pinning them to the bed.

"It's Jessica!"

"Jesus woman. You mustn't do things like this! My nerves are still tense from my time in Jerusalem."

"I thought you might need some company."

I rolled off of her and lay on my back.

"Sorry. Bad memories sometimes get the better of me."

"A back rub always helps. Roll over on your stomach and let me massage you. Which is what I was going to do when you tried to kill me." The last was said with a bit of a chuckle.

Her hands swept over my back and shoulders slowly undoing knots that felt like they had been there forever. and I started to relax.

"Better?"

The best I could muster was a grunt.

"Don't go to sleep on me now. This massage comes at a cost. A woman cannot look at your cute backside and not want a grope or two."

Which is what she did. Grope my bum I mean, which is always a turn on for me and I felt an erection happening despite my exhaustion. Then I felt her hand on my balls and I needed to move just to release the pressure on my rapidly growing erection.

"Time to turn on our back? Relieve some pressure on our growing erection?"

I rolled on my back and before I knew what is happening she was squatting astride me and sliding my cock into her.

"Ah! Fuck! You are well hung aren't you? Lady Esme is a lucky woman."

I reached up and squeezed her breasts.

"Hmm! Gently, gently!"

She sank down slowly till she was sitting on my hips, impaled on my cock.

"So good!"

She lifted herself up until I am almost out of her, she pauses and then slowly lowers herself again.

"Ah! Fuck."

She fell onto my chest.

"Your turn." she murmured. So I flexed my hips up and down in a steady rhythm until I decided I needed to be on top which resulted in a quick rolling action and I was free to hammer into her which allowed me to relieve the stress of the last dew days. Jessica did not complain, in fact she urged on me as we both raced to a noisy and, for me at least a draining climax.

Needless to say, I passed out almost immediately again to awaken to a bright new day.