A MEDIEVAL TAIL by Eric Cash Beauteous Lady Maura, Would that I the courage to declare mine longing for thee! But alas, I be but a humble bard, a wandering minstrel, and thou surely art beyond mine reach. Thou art a kind lady, I wot. Thou favour me with a smile each time we pass by one another. But each time, I must needs avert mine gaze from thee, lest thou see the naked longing in mine eyes. Lady, how mine soul burns for thee! Not merely because thou art fair - thou art that, certes - but I ken that thou hast within thee an inner beauty of immeasurable depth. Many odes have I writ, praising thy beauty and thyself. But I be sore afeared to openly proclaim mine feelings toward thee. I harbour an abiding secret fantasy, deep within mine breast, of a special loving tryst with thee. Certes, this couldst ne'er hap, but lo, even the lowliest servant hath his dream. I imagine a time when thy lord is away from the keep, when I might endeavour to assuage thy loneliness. I gather up mine courage, so that I might proclaim mine desire for thee, and beg of thee one kiss from thy sweet lips ere I die. Thy sweet breath upon mine cheek is like unto a warm summer's breeze. Thy womanly scent fills mine senses with its wondrous fragrance. I run mine hands through thy silky auburn tresses and whisper mine love for thee... But hark! I feel a presence behind me! I turn about to discover that thou, Milady, hast been surreptitiously peering o'er mine shoulder, and hast read all I have writ. I be mortified that mine soul hath been laid bare before thee in this manner. I be also mortally afeared that I have mayhap incurred thy displeasure with these mine ramblings. I beseech thee, dear Lady, prithee be not too wroth with one who adores thee so... *** A flush of ruby appears 'pon mine face. 'Tis _I_ that be with shame, dear Bard. Ken ye that mine heart truly dost pound profusely for thee, mine Bard. With haste, I run 'round before thee, and fall to to the floor at thy feet. Bowing mine head, I lay mine cheek to rest softly on thy knee. Bard, 'tis _I_ who hath loved _thee_ from afar. Whene'er thou walk by me daily in the town, I have averted mine eyes, lest thou espy the naked look of lust therein. Certes, must these feelings be wrong, but thou must ken, mine Bard, that mine feelings mirror thine. At this moment, I, although a daughter of the king, feel but as a lowly peasant girl. Mine wanton thoughts do creep forth, which wouldst sully me in the eyes of many, but at this moment I care not. I do love thee, Bard, and mine heart shall stop its beating and mine chest shalt stop its rise and fall an I do not kiss thee anon. Take me to thee, dear Bard and let mine ample bosom press 'gainst thy manly chest. I beg thee, remove me from this castle, carry me to thy abode and have thy way with me! I say to thee, dearest Bard, ne'er shouldst thou feel shamed of the words thou hast writ about thy feelings for me. An they be true, I be full of joy. But lo, mine Bard, why art thou silent? Prithee, look upon me. Please hink not of me as a common slut for being so bold. Have I offended hee with _mine_ own true feelings? *** Nay, mine sweet Lady, thou offend me not! I be fairly bursting with delight when I hear thy sweet voice professing thy love for me! And thy face flushes quite prettily. I gaze into thine eyes, and glory at the depths of passion I espy therein. With a trembling hand, I lay mine hand on thy sweet face, and revel in the satiny smoothness that is thy skin. I bend down to taste thy sweet lips, which open invitingly to mine questing tongue. I lay mine hand on thy heaving breast, and feel the pounding of thine heart, which rivals the beating of mine own. Thine ample breast moulds itself to mine hand so nicely, and thy nipple seems to brand mine palm with its fevered imprint. I clasp thee to mine breast, savouring thy closeness and the fresh scent of thy lovely auburn tresses. Mayhap should we seek a more private place. But alas, I have not a castle to which to spirit thee away. When I be not scribing ballads for mine Liege, I abide in mine humble cottage in the woods. I feel that mine modest hovel shan't be to the liking of such a highborn Lady as thyself. But thou amaze me yet again as thou suggest we ride to mine cottage this instant. *** Oh, Bard, thou mount thy steed with alacrity, and then reach down with a mighty hand and therewith take hold of mine own. With a strong heave, thou lift me up, giving me place to set behind thee. I wrap mine arms 'round thee, tightly clinging to thy body. With a quick jab of thy thy heels, thy mighty steed jolts to a fierceful gallop. Onward travel travel to a night of merrymaking. As I hold tightly, mine only love, I feel the pounding of thy pure heart. Dost it beat for mine love alone? On yestereve, I could hardly believe mine heart couldst be filled with such a passion! But with this new and wondrous day, our kindred spirits are finally knowing of each other. And once night falls, dearest Bard, our bodies will know of each other also. As we ride, the night dost come, a chill envelopes me. I cling more closely to mine love. Anon, thy steed halts abruptly and we dismount. Thou pull me down into thy arms. The soles of mine feet touch the earth not as thou carry me in thine arms across the threshold and into thine abode. I be literally carried away! Then, with a swift kick, thou dost open the door. What are thy thoughts of the moment, m'love? *** The feel of thy full breasts upon mine back and the pressure of thine arms entwined about me as we gallop toward mine cottage enflames me anew with desire for thee. As we alight from mine steed, I look into thine eyes, and find mirrored the passion that mine own eyes must be radiating forth. I hold thee tight against me, savouring the feel of thy wondrous body. After entering mine cottage, I set thee on thy feet. I light a few candles to dispel the gloom, and take thine hand and lead thee to mine bed. As this is a night to savour, we take our time disrobing one another. At last, thou stand before me in thy glorious naked splendour. Mine heart fairly races, as I realize that mine dream of making merry with thee has finally come. Mine eyes feast upon thy ripe bosoms, thy narrow waist, and thy perfectly rounded buttocks. I could die this minute with no regrets, having finally known perfection. We share another sweet kiss, our tongues battling as if in swordplay. I trace mine way to thy breasts with my tongue, and envelop the sweet, hard nubbin that is thy nipple. I be content, for now, to suckle as if I wert just a babe. I give mine attentions to thy other breast, afore I make mine way to the junction of thy thighs. I breathe in the heady scent of thy womanhood, and ask thee with mine eyes if I might have a taste of thy honey. Thou respond by gently pushing mine head toward thy flaming nest of desire, and I gratefully lap at the sweet juices that fairly pour therefrom. Thou say then to me "Bard, thy tongue certes has other talents than singing alone." I take into mine mouth the seat of thy pleasure, gently suckling as mine tongue makes loving strokes across the little nub. I then part thy silken folds, using mine tongue as I would mine staff, making slow and deep motions. Mine staff hath long ago risen, and dearly crave thy attentions. I lie again beside thee, as thou... *** I fairly quiver with delight as thou perform thy ministrations upon me. Mine blood is aboil and mine desire for thee kens no bound. I shove thee back 'til thou fall back to thy bed. I quickly kneel afore thee. Twisting mine auburn locks and pinning them back, I lay mine cheek to rest upon thy thigh. Letting mine tongue lick thee as do the kittens near maid's milking time, I savour thy manhood. I be normally a chaste woman, and have been kept apart from men by mine father the king. But the burning of mine blood imparts knowledge to mine hands and mouth, that no virgin shouldst ken. I recall mine night dreams, in which I have succumbed to thee. Many nights have I slumbered fitfully, wet, and wanting thee. This night is mine dream come true, as thou hast taken me to be thine own. With a glance towards thine eyes, I apprehend a nod of approval afore thou weave thine fingers through mine hair and lead mine full lips to thine swollen staff. With much seeming hunger, I open wide to to partake of thy manhood. At first, I allow only the tip of thy hardness to enter, in order that I might entice thee. Tracing mine tongue around thy head, thou push 'gainst mine head in seeming impatience. I relent, then take more of thee in mine mouth. I must have thee, Bard, and I move down hard, to take all of the man to whom I wish to spend the rest of mine life with. Thy massiveness goes deep within mine throat, and thou buck wildly as a spirited steed. "Milady!" thou moan. "Oh, Milady..." Thy cries of passion art as music to mine ears. I pull thee from mine mouth, then lap up the little bead of honey that seeps from thy mighty staff. *** Oh, Milady! Mine passion mounts to where it is nigh unbearable. I must needs have thee now! Mine mind whispers to me to be gentle, but mine body is in torture. I lay thy buttocks on a pillow, and give thy nether lips another loving kiss. I then lay me atop thee, and thou guide mine rod into thy moist cavern of pleasure. E'er so gently do I press into thy warmness, feeling the initial resistance that is thy maidenhead. Oh, Milady, how honoured I be that thou hast chosen me for thy deflowering! I see in thine eyes an admixture of pain and pleasure, and lay quietly within thee until thy pain subsides. Then thou make motions with thine hips which serve to incite mine lust even further. The feel of thy skin 'gainst mine own is a pleasure beyond compare. Thy bounteous breasts press insistently 'gainst mine chest, and as I slide mine sword within and without thy velvety sheath, I partake again of thy sweet lips. Anon, the pleasure that thou give me reaches epic proportions, and I canst not hold back any longer. I grasp thy tight buttocks and move within thee with more urgency. Mine loins begin to quiver, then tremour, and at that ultimate moment, mine fluid seems to rush from me in torrents. The moan that escapes thy ruby lips bespeaks the sensations that also course through thee. After we be both spent, we then lie side by side, basking in the glow that follows such a lovely bout of merry-making. I kiss thy neck, tasting the salty sweetness of thy sweat, as thou run thy fingers through mine hair. We then share another passionate kiss, and content ourselves merely holding one another for the nonce. As I lie beside thee, I then wonder what will come to pass between us. As much love as I have for thee, surely canst thou not a life with me make. I have nothing to offer thee save m'love, and I fear thy father will mayhap wax wroth, should he learn of our tryst. But at for the nonce, shalt I have thee as mine own, and wilt worry o'er it when the morrow doth come. *** As we lie entwined about one another mine fingers make their way up and down thy arm. I then notice an unusual mark on thine arm, and am sorely curious. "What be the meaning of this mark, dear Bard?" I question thee. "Milady, I ken not. It has always been there, and not knowing its meaning, I have always kept it hid. I..." But hark! There be a pounding on thy door. Thou arise with a start, and fear radiates from mine features. RAP, RAP, RAP! Whosoe'er is without, seems quite disposed to knock down the door. Quickly thou make thy way to the door, as I hide in a corner of the room. I put on mine gown, doing mine best to appear demure. As the door is opened, I espy three knights that accost thee, to take thee away. "Dost thou have the Lady with thee?" questions one of the knights. "Yea, she dost be here, and of her own will," thou say. A second knight takes hold of thee harder, grappling with thee as he takes thee without. "Bard, thou art charged with treason to the King and with trespass upon his daughter". They take thee to the cart and cage thee. I run towards thee, weeping for mine love. "Worry not, dear Bard, I shall speak with mine father! We will be together again!" I cry out to thee. As the knights travel off with thee, two chambermaids alight from a carriage, slip a cloak o'er me, and urge me with them thereto. Upon arrival to the castle, the King be furious with me and dost order me to mine chamber. As I begin to climb the stairs, I look back to see the doors swing open wide and thou art thrown without ceremony before mine father. Thine raiments art tattered, and thy face is sorely marked. "Oh, my dear Bard," I cry, and run and kneel by thee as I had earlier this day when professing mine love for thee. "Get thee hence, daughter," mine father orders. "No, father, I shalt not! This be the man I do truly love. 'Tis he who owns mine heart forever!" "Nay girl, this man be but a peasant. Ne'er will the likes of he be enjoined with thee." The King stands, and in his wrath, makes as if to strike a blow to me. Thou quickly stand to avert the strike. It is then that as thou raise thy arm to mine father that thy sleeve falls and he doth notice the mark upon thine arm. Immediately does mine father fall to his knees, suddenly weeping profusely. "Oh dearest Alizar, I thought ne'er to see thee again," he gasps as he brings thee to his chest in a hug. "I beg his Majesty's pardon," thou say confusedly. Surely must thou ken I be but thy Bard, commissioned to write ballads and such for thee. "Nay, thy name be Alizar. Thou art the very son of mine dearest friend King Ellisar. Thou wert taken from his castle by persons unknown when thou wert but a babe. The mark which is tattooed on thy arm is thy family crest, King Alizar!" *** Aye, Milady, first had I thought minelife was forfeit when the knights came to mine door. But what had I to lose but mine life, and what had I to gain but thee, mine Princess. As I wast carried away in captivity, I swore that one way or another I would escape and take thee with me. As I am cast rudely before mine Liege, I am sore afraid for mine life. But I gird mine loins, gather mine courage, and face mine Liege boldly. I be but a peasant, but I also be ready to proclaim mine undying love for mine princess. I wilt not allow thy father to strike thee, and intercede to accept the blow mineself. I be mystified when he doth pause before striking me, but something concerning the mark upon mine arm halts his blow. Then does mine fear and rage change into wonder, as I discover mine birthright. I had always thought myself an orphan. "If I be a prince, why dost thou call me King, mine Liege?" I question. "Thy father hath passed on shortly after thy birth," he replied, "Upon thy father's death, I did annex his kingdom to mine own. I vowed to have thee found, an it were possible, and if that e'er happed, I would return thy kingdom to thee." I am then told that there will be much joy in the land now that the blood of King Ellisar once again wilt rule his former kingdom. Festivities wilt abound, and much feasting. But if I be a King, I must needs a Queen. What say ye, Milady? Wilt thou consent to be mine Queen? *** Aye, mine Bard and King. I does willingly take thee for mine husband, and be honoured that thou want me for thine bride and Queen. Thou pull me close and put thy lips to mine in a resounding kiss. Cheers arise from the servants and mine chambermaids rush me off to prepare me the evening's festivities. Mine father says to thee, "Alizar, it be today that I shalt give thee the hand of mine daughter. A son indeed shalt thou be to me. This day shall be proclaimed a day of glory and merriment, and all that thou desire shalt be given thee." "Mine Liege, thy daughter alone wilt be the grandest thing thy kingdom couldst offer me," thou state most gallantly. Thou art escorted by the manservants to also prepare for the day's festivities. Father hath the whole town busily preparing for our glorious day. Dearest Bard, on the morrow, after our wedding, I wish us to once again ride off on thy bold white steed, to our new home at the castle in the kingdom adjoining. For thou wilt always be mine Bard, and mine King as well. *** I be o'erjoyed beyond belief that thou wilt be mine Queen! Oh, what a future we shalt have together. Of the wedding, let me say it wast an event that wilt be sung about for centuries hence. And for a wedding gift, thy father give me a royal carriage, the inside of which is lined with the finest silks, in which to convey thee to our new abode, the kingdom we shalt rule together. But I have other plans, so I entreat thy father to have servants take the carriage to our castle. I have mine white steed brought before us, and we alight. We ride away, as we had done yestereve, with thou holding on to me for dear life, as we gallop to our castle where we might consummate our marriage. Our wedding night was one of splendid bliss, as will be all our days together, as we travel our road through time together, and live happily e'er after.