by Lexi Hots
“You callous brute.” Shania screeched as they thundered into the forest that rolled out for miles before them, the Keep getting smaller and smaller in the horizon behind them. “I have never in my life been man-handled in this manner. I will have your head on a spike for this, you … you… lowly barbarian.”
Cullen didn’t answer the arrogant young woman; he kept riding silently with her still slung over his shoulder, stretching the distance between their pursuers, using all his expertise at horsemanship. After a while there was no sign of pursuit and Cullen decided to let his horse slow down to a trot. A few hours of easy riding later with him silently enduring her rants and wails until she grew tired, he slowed the horse down to a halt. It was a good place to camp, with a stream running by and trees that bore fruit all around them. Three more days of hard riding lay before them, to get to the border of the Western Kingdom, and another day to reach the castle of King Gawain, and he wanted the horse to gather as much strength as it could.
He dismounted and unceremoniously dumped his burden onto a soft patch of moss. Shania fell hard, but the soft moss broke her fall. Nevertheless, she had the breath taken out of her and was livid with rage. He ignored her and sat down to clean the blood off his broadsword. She watched his sullen expression. His cool, care free demeanor infuriated her. Never had a man felt so intimidating to her. She was used to perfumed nobles and prancing princes bowing before her and offering their slender arms for her to hold as they walked in obeisance beside her. This man was nothing like that at all, and it made her blood boil to not have her superior station acknowledged.
“Savage!’ She cried out. “Ill-mannered brute! Haven’t you been taught in the ways to treating a woman of high birth, a regal princess?”
He eyed her silently, running the whetstone across the length of his blade with almost mechanical precision, blue sparks spraying with each stroke. The huge warhorse happily munched away at the grass behind him.
“Well, what have you to say?” She screamed. “I am Princess Shania; men bow before me or lose their heads.”
“You’re not my princess, woman.” Cullen said, anger pricking at the back of his neck. “To me you are a burden I need deliver for a few coins, no more.”
“How dare you insult me, lowborn?” She wrung her hands in frustration. “I will have your head on a spike for this… once we get home, my father will have you drawn and quartered.”
“Save your strength, lass.” He said quietly, placing his broadsword down and flicking out a sharp dagger. “We have four days to ride, you will need it. Now be quiet while I hunt us some meat.”
“How dare you order me to be quiet?” She gritted her teeth. “And I will not eat some gruesomely hunted and barbaric repast that the likes of you can find.”
“You have the choice to starve.” He said, rising up and slipping away toward the undergrowth. “Or try the fruit in these trees.”
“No one to pluck them... oh, alas, must a princess be so deprived?” She groaned, but Cullen was out of earshot.
When he returned with three freshly skinned rabbits ready for the pit, Shania was asleep on the moss bed he had thrown her upon. He shook his head, remembering that the king telling him that she was a bit spoilt; the old man couldn’t have made a greater understatement. Never in his life so far had he come across someone with so much expected entitlement.
The crackling of roasting rabbit over a hot fire roused the young woman. She looked around, her hungry stomach rumbled at the scent of roasting meat. Cullen watched her as he turned the rabbits on the spit. She couldn’t have been much older than him; he was entering his twenty third summer; that would mark a full decade of him becoming a warrior of his clan. He smiled as she stumbled about, clearly not used to being outdoors much, if at all. She walked on unsteady feet to the stream and washed her face, drinking deeply. Her soft white skin glowed in the pale moonlight and her fiery hair took on a silver sheen. She was a sight to behold, almost a goddess, if only she didn’t have that rude arrogance, he mused.
She walked back towards him, her green eyes glittering with hate. She sat down against the tree and watched him tear into the freshly roasted rabbit flesh. Her belly quivered with hunger, but her arrogance and ego kept her at bay. He didn’t offer her anything, silently eating all three of the rabbits himself and putting the fire out. Cullen kept watch for a while, and then drifted off to sleep, there was no real danger in that part of the woods, and he had known it well. The only danger there was the one travelling with him.
Just before the break of dawn, he silently rose up and walked over to where Shania lay sleeping. Her red hair was strewn all around her like a fiery halo and her lovely face looked even lovelier and serene as she slept. In another lifetime, perhaps, her breathtaking beauty may have captured his heart, but not now. Not when his heart had hardened beyond the hardest of stone. Her comely form was another matter though and he felt the stirrings of lust within him, but he fought it back with the same stone cold determination he had in the heat of battle.
He chuckled at the sight of half eaten fruit and seeds strewn near her. So, the pampered princess was capable of finding food and feeding herself. He retrieved the ornamental dagger from her grasp, more so to keep her safe from it than anything else. Grinning, he held up his water skin and poured a few drops of water on her face, making her open her large green eyes in surprise and look around her frantically.
“Morning, Princess.” He grunted. “It’s time we were on the road.”
“You call this morning.” She spat. “It’s dark as night, when the sun rises… ohhh.”
He reached down and hauled her up, laying her over the saddle and mounting in one swift move. The large stallion bolted ahead, making the wind and the leaves rush past her breathless face.
“The sun will follow us soon, and then overtake us and set before us again.” Cullen laughed. “This will happen every day, until we are back to the Western Kingdom.”
“Where you will hang for your crimes, you savage.” She yelled up at him.
“Hanged, beheaded, impaled, quartered… you have to make up your mind, Princess.” He laughed into the wind. “Or do you intend to have me suffer a dozen different deaths?”
“That wouldn’t be enough.” She screamed as his laughter mingled with the rush of the wind.
***
“Today marks the tenth day since the princess has gone missing.” The gaunt man said, his slender fingers clasped tightly close to his narrow chest. “Surely, Sire, we cannot keep this a secret any longer. The people are not fools; they will know the Princess is not here… mayhap they already do.”
“I have faith in your judgment, Draco.” Gawain, king of the realm, sighed deeply. “And yet I don’t have any other choice. Those vandals at the Eastern border have left me with no other means than deception over my own people.”
“Still it was a better idea to send in a hired mercenary to rescue her than your elite knights.” Draco, the king’s most trusted advisor replied somberly. “He has some good references and is also reputed to be among the best... as well as a man of his word, quite a rarity in these times of strife.”
“Look what’s come upon the great Western Kingdom.” Gawain lamented, removing the heavy crown off his balding head. “That we cannot send our finest at our hour of need, but must rely on barbarian outlanders for a pittance of gold.”
“It is the best move you could have taken, Sire.” Draco smiled, adjusting his expensive gold inlayed tunic. “These are the days of political warfare, for kings and regents… gone are the days of glorious battle in the fields. That is best left to savage men like Cullen.”
“What will you know of the glory of battle, Draco, you are a man of the quill and with a sharp mind for manipulation.” Gawain shook his head sadly, his broad shoulders sagging. “Yet you are right, these are the days of diplomacy and shrewd governance… and so that is why I must agree to give my only daughter away in marriage to that foppish prince, what’s his name?”
“Jous-le-Fontain.” Draco said with a smile.
“What?” Gawain eyed the near skeletal man in bemusement.
“The name of the, um, foppish prince of the southern kingdom, my liege.” Draco bowed with a smirk.
“That was not a question, Draco, I know his name, and I just don’t care.” Gawain pounded his heavy fist on the throne armrest. “Oh, the things one has to do for trade and prosperity… how I miss those glorious days of battle of my youth.”
“You just fought in that one battle, Sire, and it was only for three hours.” Draco dared to remind the king.
“And there’ll be another one now, if you don’t watch your tongue.” Gawain almost laughed. “Now be gone and don’t bother me unless you have news of my only child.”
“Yes, Sire.” Draco bowed and backed out of the throne room, leaving Gawain to study the maps of the eastern borders of his kingdom.
***
Three days had past, three days of miserable weather and the constant harrying of the king’s precious cargo drove him to the brink of insanity. They had covered only two thirds of the distance to the border. The Princess Shania’s many whims and tantrums served well to delay them by a full day. If he were riding alone or with any other, they would have crossed the border into the Western Kingdom by then.
Cullen cursed as another bolt of lightning flashed across the overcast sky. It was difficult to get his bearings when he couldn’t see the sun. Only an instinctive sense of direction kept him going on. The rain started again, pelting down hard and fast. At least the tracks would be washed away for any hunters to spot if they were being followed, he felt.
Hugging the mercenary’s cloak tightly around her, Shania sat atop the horse while Cullen guided it by the reins over the slippery stones on foot. The craggy mountains rose above them and he had to lead them through the narrow passages to get to the other side and into the kingdom of king Gawain.
“I want shelter from this bad weather.” Shania cried petulantly.
“We must press on.” Cullen growled, without turning back. “We have lost too much time already.”
“No, I want to rest.” She wailed. “The rain is cold and hard… it hurts.”
Cullen clenched his teeth, gripping the hilt of his broad sword tightly. He’d love to stick the cold and hard steel into her. The gold Gawain offered him was not enough for this kind of aggravation, he made up his mind to ask the old king for tenfold the amount.
“There, I see a cave… we can shelter there for some time.” He said, snarling under his breath.
“Oh, no…. you can’t expect a princess of high noble birth to take shelter in an animal’s cave.” Shania said, with a whine.
“What can I say, your highness.” Cullen shrugged. “We seem to be out of palaces in these here parts. It’s the cave or we continue on.”
Shania didn’t respond, so he took that as a yes. He guided the great black horse carefully over the wet stones and into the cave. It was dark inside and musty, but no scent of rotting meat or feces anywhere. Cullen was thankful that it was abandoned or never habituated by anything. He tethered his horse to an outcrop of rock and moved in deeper to light a small fire.
“It’s cold and horrid in here.” Shania whined again. “And I’m hungry.”
“I’ll have a fire going soon, and I have dried meat…” He replied gruffly. “Spread that cloak on the clearing and rest.”
“My clothes are wet.” She complained, carelessly throwing the cloak on the dusty floor.
“Take them off and lay them on the rocks to dry.” Cullen sighed. “I’ve got the fire going.”
“What?” She cried angrily. “Undress in front of a lowborn like you. How dare you?”
“Then keep them on.” He shrugged.
“You callous savage; I’ll catch my death of cold.” She yelled, making him wince. “A chivalrous man would never let a woman go through this.”
“I’ve never been accused of chivalry.” He laughed, angering her further as a flash of lighting illuminated the cave for a split second.
“What will you lowborn savages know of chivalry?” She sneered. “A man of breeding would never lead a woman of such high birth through all this treacherous terrain.”
“Maybe you’d have preferred to rot in the cell where I found you.” He grated; his patience with her finally at breaking point.
“It was far better than enduring all this with you… you, barbarian.” She spat into the fire, making the flames sputter.
“Careful, we need that fire... for light and warmth.” He cautioned.
“I don’t care, make another one.” She screamed and made to throw the cloak over the fire.
Cullen felt his hackles rise. He had just had about enough of this arrogant little princess. Royalty or not, she was more than a pain. He’d rather face a horde of savage cannibals than endure another moment with her. He dived for her, grabbing her slender waist and dragging her down, just before she could throw the cloak over the small fire. Disgusted by her irresponsible nature he decided instinctively to treat her like the spoilt child that she was behaving as.
Shania’s breath left her as she fell to the hard ground. Cullen’s weight crushed her down for a brief moment and then he rose quickly and dragged her up with him. She screamed, trying to kick and slash at him. He threw her over his knee as he sat on a large slab of rock. His large hand pressed her down, face first across his muscular thighs. He pushed her skirt all the way up, exposing the soft round globes of her cream colored buttocks. His meaty, callused palm, hardened by thousands of hours of swordplay and hard work came down with force cracking hard on her soft yielding flesh.
“What are you doing?” She wailed in disbelief as tears rolled down her face. “Unhand me, you barbarian… you will hang for this till… aaaiiieeeee!”
“You had this coming for a long, long time.” He snarled. “Never have I met a woman as arrogant and disdainful, I am doing what should have been done ages ago.”
“Release me, uncouth savage.” She scratched as his thick legs as his heavy palm cracked across her smarting rump once more, leaving little welts of red on her alabaster skin.
Her body shook as he struck her again, three days of suppressed rage and frustration he intended to take out on her. He felt her soft body quivering against him and a strange sense of pleasure began to germinate in his mind. He felt warm and lively, he vague remembered the feeling. He used to get it in the company of women, intimate company. It had been a long time he had been with a woman, intimately, and at that moment he was at his most intimate with the princess he had ever been in the last three days.
As his mind drifted, he rested his large hand over her naked buttocks, a finger slipping in between the crack. She shivered; her screams had reduced to sobs and whimpers. He felt a strange dampness touch his fingers, a warm dampness, from between her legs. He brought his finger before his astonished eyes. It was smeared in a sticky substance, like perspiration, but only just. He brought it to his nose, the scent made his head go back. He felt giddy; something urged him to taste his finger. He stuck it is his mouth, memories of the many women in his life as a travelling mercenary came flooding back into his mind. She was in a state of arousal as she lay over his thighs, whimpering. He jabbed his fingers into the valley between her legs again and she moaned, digging her nails into his dense calf muscle. He tasted her again, filling his senses. He felt a rush of blood descend down to his loins, filling him, engorging him with a sense of virility and desire.
“Filthy savage.” Shania said, almost laughing, almost sobbing. ‘You intend to take my virginity now too.”
He remained silent as his arousal heightened. He caressed her welt covered buttocks, feeling the scars on her soft flesh as she shivered. His battle hardened fingers played with her pampered, delicate softness.
“I can feel your shameless arousal boring in to my belly.” She whispered. “Are you the lowborn savage warrior who gets to defile a princess of the highest birth?�
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“Are you asking me or telling me, woman?” Cullen’s voice was thick, his breathing erratic. A haze of lust clouded his mind, just as a haze of battle would whenever he was at war.