Legends From a Jumbled Man

by Michael Hudson

  He looked into the shine of the sun against the orb, biting into the side of his lip as he thought. He than felt something slide into a gap in his platemail, just below his shoulder blade. Whatever it may be though did not sink any further, being stopped despite the amount of power put behind the dagger strike. Kreg swallowed hard, before turning around. His assassin was nowhere, and he felt his body chill. A show of proof, he supposed, by the king about the power of his gift.

  “If you would like, my master offers a second option.” The maid curtsied to him. “If you would like, you may join our guard. You will of course have to spend a year having your mind and body broken to his will like mine was, but you would be allowed to live and serve afterwards.”

  Kreg turned back to her, a scowl coming over his face before he slammed a fist over his chest, the steel ringing out as his gauntlet scraped against it. “I thought you may be more than simply a little whore, but I see otherwise now. I will see your master, who was a fool for having not used that assassin of his to kill me, but instead invited his death to his very door. Now, march girl. I have a tyrant to destroy.”

  She curtsied one more time, her smile never fading while her eyes were shut. “But of course, sir. To be fair, many of us hoped you would decide this.” She turned on her heel, and began walking towards the slowly opening gate. “We enjoy to see our champion be satisfied, as it leaves the rest of us safe from its hunger.”

  He began walking behind her, his steel boots ringing against the cobblestone that made up the streets. The hot summer day made it uncomfortable in his armor, to put it lightly, but now that he was within the snake’s den, there was no way he would have wanted to be without the hardened steel. He was determined to stay like this until the fight was over, as a pledge of determination. This was the day he had looked forward to for most of his life. He had trained hard through his youth, refined his skill with a master in his teenage years, and finally Kreg would know fulfilment of his destiny, and the joy of victory.

  Through long corridors, guard stations, and multiple, castle walls, they walked. The maid stayed silent now, merely watching where she walked, while Kreg cared little for who may be inconvenienced by the hulking man that was stomping through. Some did not simply ignore him or avoid him though, but instead offered their esteemed guest plates of food, wine to drink, and any sort of luxury he may have wanted. It would have all been rather charming, had it not been for how they all ended their offers.

  “A final gift, before you die.”

  Every last one of them said that, and, in the dark, gloomy corridors of the castle, it only served to put his nerves on full alert. No part of his body was calm as they crossed the final courtyard, and to the luxury part of the castle, meant for affairs of the state, and where the king and his advisors could enjoy their debauchery in comfort. All of which would be Kreg’s when he was done here.

  A few rooms later though, and he knew he would need to make changes, as he was almost sick from all that was within the throne room.

  The king himself was no pleasure to look at, as he was a fat wizard who jiggled as he laughed at the knight’s arrival. He sat upon a large, golden throne, while nothing but an ill fitting purple robe with silver trim. He turned away from the pig of a man, but almost nothing else in the room gave him the respite he wanted. The benches were thankfully normal for a long room like this, almost like church pews that had the king as the preacher of this satanic hall. On the walls however, were tapestries depicting rape, murder, death, and destruction of all sorts, and in graphic detail. It all made him sick, and all made him happy that he could address the king while looking at his concubine, which was the one thing in the room that would give anyone a rest on their eyes.

  She was a fine maiden, with almost snow white skin. One of her long, thin legs were lifted up to the throne’s armrest that she chose to sit on, while the other dangled over the other side. This gave a fine view of the woman’s nethers, despite the fact that she was wearing underwear, if that’s what you wanted to call it. The thin, iron loops covering her pink lips did nothing to hide the folds, or stop Kreg’s imagination.

  Kreg was told to kneel, but refused and did not stop looking at the girl. She had long black hair, and gave him a bright smile as she noticed the gazing. As the woman moved forward, her bosom, clad in similar rings, moved with her, now hanging in the air as she bent at almost a ninety degree angle. Not that they were hampered by the ‘armor’, the thick mounds causing Kreg’s mouth to salivate as they swayed in the air, and he could feel his loins respond to her body. For a moment, he wondered how he could get his lips over her nipple, just like the black ring that was around it now.

  A booming voice broke him out of his daydreaming, and forced his attention back forwards. It had just been a wordless shout, so as to get his attention, and the king now glared down upon him. “I, King Pousrus, will not be ignored like this! No matter what back city town, deprived of woman or manners, you may come from, my whore should not be where your attention is now.”

  Kreg nodded, shutting his eyes in disgust with himself. No matter the discomfort he was in, he should not have been swayed because of the tender thighs, the large, welcoming bosom, her wet, red li- Kreg grit his teeth, seething at himself for his continued thinking, and looked to Pousrus. “I will not apologize, only admit that I should have done more to cool myself before now.”

  Pousrus laughed, slapping his belly as he threw his head back. “So you refused my gifts, and then decide to insult me by admitting to something that I tried to prevent. That’s almost entertaining!” He then leaned forward, his teeth bared as the folds of his skin bunched up and his belly shook. “That is if you weren’t just a piece of entertainment for me. A gnat, soon to be devoured by the toad.”

  The knight felt his face shake as he breathed in deeply. “I came to kill you with my own hands, not to be poisoned or mocked, so if you truly meant what your letter declared, that you wanted to see me try, then step down from that throne and fight me!”

  The king sat back, sighing as he turned to his maiden. “I suppose we must give the man what he wants. Would you not agree, Kel?”

  The concubine nodded as the king erupted with laughter again, before she stood up and began to move down the steps that led up to the throne. With each step, her heaving bosom bounced, and the sound of her chainmail rattled, only bringing more attention to her supple breasts and shapely legs. Kreg felt his mouth dry, but he would not be distracted again. Instead, he straightened his back, squared his shoulders, and pointed his sword to the king. “Let your champion come then, and I will strike him down so as to have the right to have your head!”

  He glared into the green eyes of the evil lord, before the ringing of steel on steel brought his attention back to in front of him. The maiden was now armed with a sword whose sheath was in her other hand. From the vibrating of her blade, he suspected that she was the one to have brought down his own weapon, even if it made absolutely no sense. He raised his sword again and looked back to the king. “Are you trying to tell me that this is your champion?”

  The maiden responded for the king while pointing her blade to the ground, and throwing away the leather sheath. “Yes. my name is Kel. I am the champion of the king, and his lead concubine. We find such a role helps me stay a secret to our enemies, as well as allowing for many other... delicious things to happen.”

  Kreg breathed in deeply, flexing his hand as he felt the rest of him tremble in rage. He had heard rumors that no one who ever saw the champion survived, but for a common whore to be it… He lifted his blade to her throat. “Do not lie to me harlot. Where is your champion?”

  Pousrus sighed, before snapping, drawing the knight’s attention upwards. “Boy, you should be overjoyed! It will be an easy kill for you, and then, yes, you may have my head. If this seems fitting for you, then stand at the other end of the room so the duel may begin.”

  Kreg looked between the two of them. Just like the rest of this trip, this felt off,
like he was being set up. He looked back to the woman in front of him, trying to take in more than just her body as he thought. While she had shown some proficiency in swordplay just a moment before, she now had a grip that would easily shatter under one of his two handed striked, a sure sign of a rookie. Not only that, but her body trembled as she watched him make his decision, probably praying that the atmosphere of the room would get him to back down. He looked to her exposed tits that were stiff with fright, and moved up and down with each of her breaths. A small sadness tried entering his mind about now possibly ruining them, but his determination for freedom would not be quelled. “I accept your terms.”

  Pousrus nodded, and waved the knight away. “Then get to your corner already. I haven’t had any decent entertainment in a while now, and I know Kel has been just starving for a new opponent.”

  Kreg grit his teeth as he turned around and began to march. While he had never been the brightest man in the world, he was no fool, so to be treated as such when he was a noble knight was beyond infuriating. He would show the smug bastard what he was truly capable of. His tongue ran along his dry lips as a plan formed. He would not have to kill the concubine, but would merely disarm her. Then he could charge the tyrant, and by the end of today her firm bosom would be his to command, as repayment for freeing her from the monster that held her now.

  He turned around, looking across the wide room. There was plenty of room in the great hall, with enough width between the benches to march a squad in, let alone have a one on one duel. He spent another moment admiring the sun coming through the windows and glinting off of the whore’s chainmail. While he could not make out details on her from this distance, he could easily fill in the blanks, such as the trembling arms or quivering legs. Yes, disarming her truly would be the best option for all of them.

  The king yawned from atop his throne, before looking to his fingers. “Begin I suppose. Not that this will take too long. Correct, Kel?”

  Despite the distance, he could still catch Pousrus’s voice, and could even see the concubine nod in agreement. His blood boiled at the final insults, and he began to charge. Kel simply stood there though, her sword’s point staying downwards, almost touching the stone at her feet. Kreg was not an idiot when it came to combat, and before committing to his murderous stoke, he slowed down to almost a halt. Kel merely smiled at that. “And here I thought the only thing that commanded your thoughts was that which resides beneath your trousers.”

  Kreg felt his muscles tighten, and brought his longsword up, going for a vicious backhand slash across his foe’s stomach. He expected a weak deflection so as to protect the pale, glistening mound that his stroke was aimed for, but instead found his blade caught at the bottom. The concubine had whipped her blade upwards in an arc, catching him mid strike, and while it forced his blade away from her body, it also meant he kept his momentum. He now saw that if he had done his original charge to force her weapon away in one mighty swing, he would have possibly tossed himsell past her after her deflection.

  Kel’s blade was not done though. Now that it was raised, she tightened her grip on it, and performed a quick forward cut at the exact spot on his own body that he had tried to strike on hers. If not for his heavy armor, that may have been the end of the fight. Instead, the lighter blow merely bruised the skin beneath the platemail, and forced Kreg back a step. When he looked back up, she stood there, staring dead eyed upon him.

  “What are you?”

  Kel shifted her stance, loosening her grip as she stared at him, her swordpoint once more pointing down. “I am the king’s champion, and, like him, was hungry for this fight. Fortunately, my hunger will be sated quite soon.”

  Kreg grit his teeth. Despite his anger, or because of it, he could still only focus on the woman’s weapon, and her body. His thoughts were not as kind before though, now imagining her being thrown to the street, just like all of the king’s worthless, tainted minions would be once the country was free. That was far more fitting for such an ill mannered woman.

  He charged forward, keeping his sword at chest level. His right foot planted itself only a foot away as he tensed his right arm. From here he could see every detail of Kel’s heavenly chest while it rose and fell in the span of a breath’s time. He paused, licking his lips as he took in those tender areolas, and the curvature of what he wished he could have now. He was aiming for in between the two peaks, but she would deflect it, and he was hoping for just that His left hand was curled into a fist, and his momentum would bring him forwards. Since she had no second blade, his fist would have nothing to stop it, and she would come crashing down to the ground. With a wicked smile on his face, he thrusted upon the woman.

  [i]Shlunk.[/i]

  Kreg stopped dead in his tracks, all of his momentum suddenly gone as he could feel the pressure of her chest on top of his gauntlet. The woman hadn’t even moved, and now he had his blade cleanly through her. The metal rings of her armor had been broken, the piece of shielding having been cleaved in two, and now hung from her erect nipples. The knight blinked a few times, his brain having stopped now, trying to fight arousal and confusion for what felt like the hundredth time that day..

  It would restart in only about three seconds after the blade had found its mark, by an iron grip clasping itself around his neck. Another hand placed itself on his wrist, making sure his blade stayed firmly implanted into her. His gaze was then forced upwards as he barely was able to get breath into his lungs. There he saw her merciless, blue eyes, and a smile that was larger than a dead woman’s should be. All beauty was suddenly gone from her face or long black hair as abject terror filled him.

  Kel tightened her grip for a moment, cutting off his airways and making him shake, before a long peel of laughter escaped her. “I do hope you enjoyed the treat of my bosom. I will admit that needing to repair my armor after every duel can get tedious for my master, but I know I do not mind. I mean, no one ever shoots arrows, or crossbow bolts at the nameless whore that he almost never uses, and when I do have to duel, it’s always alone, and, well, did you ever even think about striking my head?”

  Kreg tried to move his hand, but nothing happened. Even when his arms felt like they were on fire, she did not budge, nor would she spill blood. He looked back up, shouting as best as he could with such little air, “Unhand me you demoness!”

  Kel looked back to Pousrus, who merely gave a bored thumbs up before she turned back to the poor, trapped knight. “You would be luckier if I was a demon. Demons still have beating hearts with which to pierce and cause agony with. Zombies like I though can never die unless struck in the head. Too bad everyone wants into my mail instead. Wouldn’t you agree?” Another long laugh escaped her, her body shaking with each moment. Kreg didn’t even look down when the sounds of the ruined armor hitting the ground could be heard, her bosom no longer anywhere near his mind.

  “I… I still have the jewel, in my armor! You can’t harm me while I have that!”

  Pousrus was the one to respond this time, laughing himself. “Why, I do believe that is the funniest thing I have heard from you yet. Do you really think I would give you a jewel to protect you from all harm? I would simply use that and laugh at fools like you if I had such a thing! No, I simply had my assassin use a blunted weapon so as to make sure you would come in. This way, I can take care of some stupid upstart like yourself, and feed my precious little minion. Speaking of which,” Pousrus looked down to Kel, and smiled. “Dinner is served.”

  Kel’s smile shimmered for a moment, showing rotted teeth within her maw as she said, “Thank you for the meal my lord.”

  Kreg’s screams echoed throughout the castle, just like so many before it, and the staff let out a collective sigh of relief, happy to know that they were safe for another few weeks. Then the next knight would be brought tricked to come in, and this song and dance would begin all over again.

  Author’s Note

  Like the story, this one is a bit longer of a tale than others. See, in theory
, this seems to be a sort of story just in line with a lot of the erotica I’ve written, toned down just enough to be teen rated, but that’s not where the inspiration came from. In fact, this is the first piece of original work that ever came close to being erotica from me, and it would be well over a year before I actually wrote any of Sarafune Monster Preserve.

  So, what did inspire this? Well, it was inspired by a contest. A friend of mine, who I unfortunately can’t plug because he won’t publish his stuff, pointed me to a fantasy writing contest being held. The concept was to go against some a trope of fantasy usually seen as bad or ill conceived, and then to try to make one of those tropes work. They listed some examples, and with one of them my mind exploded with possibilities.

  Chainmail Bikini.

  I’m someone who doesn’t like the fact that women can’t get stripped down in action stuff, or even as damaged as the guys, and it’s not just because I’m a pervert. No, instead it’s the double standard. Women can get into just as destructive and dangerous of fights, and many anime women will wear outfits that by all means should be easier to rip apart and get ahold of then what the guys wear, so why don’t they ever get damaged? Even more so, due to some men they fight being perverts, why not attack their breasts and loins?

  So the idea was born to use the feminine body to its full potential. What would it be like if one wore a bikini made out of chainmail? The rings aren’t dense enough to actually hide anything, and it would make anything below the neck simply more of a target.

  And that’s why in this last story, I made it so that was the whole point. Not only was it used to throw an opponent off balance and cause them to underestimate an opponent, as most would seeing such a stupid choice in armor, but to protect the only weak point that a zombie could have; their head.

  Now if only Sarah from Sarafune had more to show off, because she would definitely be the type to use it this way.