Battle Cry and The Berserker

by C. L. Scholey

  Gregory chuckled. At Rory’s curious look Gregory leaned back with a gleam in his eye. “Constantine and Juliette’s mother would not give me even a casual glance. Even after we were wed she strove to avoid me. I took it into my head to win her affections. I sought to joust with a knight so huge he could have carried his own destrier into battle. I felt certain she would then be forced to acknowledge me for my bravery. It was my stupidity that forced her attention.

  “I was nearly killed of course. As my wife nursed me back to health we talked. I realized I had never even once really talked to her and listened. The more I listened the softer her gaze seemed toward me. She then begged me never to joust with one so large again. I grandly told her I would do anything for her. I am sure you can imagine my relief.”

  Feeling relieved himself Rory chuckled. What a merry chase men were led when it came to women, he thought.

  “I suppose no harm is done. In the future I am more hopeful you will but ask. Lest I be forced to don my chain mail,” Gregory said with mock sternness. All chuckled at that vision at the now slight little man.

  “I find myself in the position to ask, my lord,” Rory said, now serious.

  Gregory looked at him curiously. Rory plunged on.

  “It would seem Juliette and my brother have acquired a fondness for one another,” Rory said. “He seeks her hand.”

  “Oh?” Gregory asked, surprised at this new development.

  “I swear on my honor, my lord, I would take good care of your daughter. I would also never seek to poison you,” Devon said in earnest.

  “’Tis good news indeed. My belly still throbs. It could not take another pummeling. Yet, Juliette remains betrothed to Lord Christopher,” Gregory pondered, though he liked not the idea of his sweet child married to one so vindictive. If Lord Christopher cared nothing for Constantine’s howling what misfortune would befall Juliette if she battled? Lord Christopher no doubt thought to spare Juliette the same suffering and to reunite her with her sister. Then again being kidnapped was not Constantine’s fault.

  “Gregory, what a wonderful idea, we would not need to be concerned of making Juliette a widow,” Emit said with excitement. How grand. Emit had been certain Lord Christopher had frightened any other hopeful suitors away. Juliette would not have to travel overly faraway to find a husband. It was perfect. Emit looked hopefully at Lord Gregory.

  “True,” Gregory mused. “How does Juliette feel? You are after all a second son; your wealth could nowhere near match Lord Christopher’s, nor even Juliette’s.” Lord Gregory had been concerned for Juliette’s feelings. What if she wished this union with Lord Christopher? He was after all exceedingly wealthy. Even if Lord Christopher’s intention was to back out he could petition the king. He could force the union or seek restitution. Though forced marriages were a touchy subject. He would not like it if Lord Christopher were to be cruel to his daughter.

  “’Tis my belief Juliette wishes to remain with me,” Devon answered.

  “Perhaps we should just ask,” Rory said on a smile.

  * * * *

  “What is taking so long?” Juliette fretted. She paced her room in agitation. She felt they had been waiting for hours. Certainly some decision had been made. How could Yay or Nay take so long?

  “’Tis not a decision father can enter into lightly. He is right after all, Rory did steal you,” Constantine replied.

  “Yet Nicholas stole you as well,” Juliette pointed out.

  “’Tis not the same. You belong to father, I on the other hand belong to Rory and am no longer under father’s protection. Besides, the only reason Lord Daft was able to make off with me was because the castle guards allowed it. Father is nursing a bruised ego. Rory captured you through great prowess,” Constantine argued.

  Juliette stifled a small giggle at her sister’s smugness. She could not stop the image of her feet connecting soundly with Rory’s behind, then sending him and his prowess flying down the stairs.

  “Perhaps you are right, Pepper. We must endeavor to hope father is not too angry. I do not wish to spend the rest of my life with a man my sister refers to as ‘Lord Daft’. Would it not be embarrassing if I slipped and called him that on our wedding night?” Juliette said suppressing another giggle. “The only thing likely to pop would no doubt be his temper.”

  “About popping...” Constantine began. “I fear the old crone was very evasive when she spoke to me of popping in the marriage bed.”

  “Oh?” Juliette asked, hear ears perked in eagerness. She had been dying to hear more of coupling. She had been certain something of importance had been overlooked. She gazed upon her sister while settling down beside her.

  “’Tis not just popping. ’Tis kissing and holding and talking...” Constantine said dreamily, yet trailed off at the look of sudden disgust on Juliette’s astounded face.

  “I am expected to kiss and make conversation with his growth?” Juliette asked horrified. “Most certainly it is unable to reply…can it?” She gulped.

  “No, no Juliette,” Drat. No wonder Rory just spit out the truth. This was indeed difficult.

  “This coupling appeals less and less. Most assuredly ’tis why a man enjoys himself. ’Tis the woman who is expected to do all the work, though why that comes as a surprise I know not,” Juliette decided and jumped from the bed and began to pace.

  Constantine sighed. She took in her sister’s flustered features. She rose and stood before Juliette stopping her erratic movement. She would just have to explain herself.

  “Juliette in order for you to couple a man must place his growth...”

  “Come girls, your father wishes a word with you,” Emit declared, barging through their door.

  Both girls jumped. Constantine felt vexed, could the man never learn to knock?

  Constantine entered the hall trailed by a very apprehensive Juliette. Gregory smiled at his daughters, happy they were home for a visit. He looked forward to the day little feet would once again run through the halls. He had been feeling so lonely as of late; thank God for Emit.

  “Come Juliette, you and I have much to discuss,” Gregory informed her. Juliette took her father’s hand and with a sorrowful glance back to Constantine they left the room to head for the gardens.

  “Well?” Constantine asked Rory expectantly.

  “’Tis your sister’s decision now I am certain. You appear to be right, your father is very indulgent. You must have wanted me very badly for him to agree,” Rory said and smiled at Constantine’s now angry expression.

  “You know very well I was wedded to you at the king’s command,” Constantine snapped. “As heir to most of these lands it was within Edward’s and my father’s best interest to betroth me to a powerful trustworthy knight for safekeeping,” she added with a haughty toss of her long locks.

  “Remind me to thank his lordship when next I see him,” Rory said still smiling. “I have no doubt after an afternoon spent with you our king will grant me yet another boon. Enough candle wax to last me a lifetime for the castle’s and my own ears.”

  “Perhaps he would grant me more chain mail if I am able to wed with Juliette,” Devon mumbled. Though he was feeling pensive.

  Looking into her brother-in-law’s face Constantine felt a wave of compassion. She ignored Rory’s playful bantering and gave Devon’s arm a thoughtful squeeze.

  “I am certain father can be persuaded. Juliette does seem to have great affection for you. But you must promise me something,” Constantine asked with sudden intensity. Her eyes gazed imploringly into his.

  “Of course, Constantine. ’Tis as hard for me to deny you what you ask as it is my brother,” Devon said somewhat surprised as her grip tightened on his arm and her doe-brown eyes so like Juliette’s delved into his.

  “Please be as caring and gentle on your wedding’s eve with Juliette as Rory was with me.

  Juliette is completely innocent to the ways of the marriage bed. I do not wish her to be hurt or frightened,” Constantine plead
ed.

  “You have my word,” Devon vowed. Though when Constantine wandered off a ways Devon looked to Rory and smiled sheepishly. “Perhaps you could take sweet Juliette aside and implore her not to kill me when I try to bed her.”

  Rory rolled his eyes. “’Tis no time to joke, Devon.” He too wandered off.

  “Who was joking?” Devon mumbled at his brother’s retreating back.

  * * * *

  “Juliette, my dearest sweetling, do you still wish to remain betrothed to Lord Christopher?” her father asked her.

  “Nay, father. I think Nicholas would like to end this betrothal as well,” Juliette replied. Why else had he not come for her or demanded her safe return.

  “’Tis hearing of your battling that has him vexed no doubt. I fear your uncle was right on

  that account,” Gregory chastened.

  “It was spending two days with Pepper’s vocal cords that vexed him.” Juliette snorted.

  Gregory chuckled but conceded giving her a fond hug. It was more than likely. His sweet Constantine screeched louder than a drunken minstrel being tortured. Gregory sighed. “Do you care for Lord Devon, child, or is it your closeness with your sister you covet?”

  Juliette pondered for a moment knowing her father would hear a lie if told. “At first it was my loneliness of Constantine. I do not know what I feel, honestly father. Lord Devon is rude and a bully. He laughs at my ability to defend myself. He follows me about as would a giant puppy. He grows angry when I offer aid to those I feel are in need of it. Yet, he stirs something inside of me I do not understand. ’Tis a strange feeling to be certain, the strangest. I feel safe while wrapped in his embrace. His gaze sends flutters through my belly, my heart races when he comes close. My fingers seem possessed as they want to glide along his perfect cheek. Am I addled father? Do you think perhaps I am ill?” Juliette asked while wringing her hands.

  Gregory wrapped his arms around her feeling great happiness. Giving her a good squeeze he replied, “Nay, my child, not ill, in love.”

  * * * *

  When word was sent to Lord Christopher asking to declare the betrothal to himself and Juliette null and void, Nicolas jumped at the chance. He then sighed with relief and sent a wagonload of bolts of fabric, jewels, and well-milled flour to Juliette as compensation. Gregory and Emit decided to allow him to live when Lord Christopher also sent them a case of spices to atone for the pig, along with his word indicating none had been tampered with.

  A great feast was planned for their return to Braven to celebrate the marriage of Lord Devon to Lady Juliette. Mary flittered about happily to now have two charges, it was her great hope a little one would soon be added, even though Lucius was often underfoot. Again the minstrel sang in the great hall, wisely he did not venture too near Rory.

  The jugglers were splendid, and amusingly, suckling pig was served. Constantine swore she ventured nowhere near the gardens or the dinner that day, and the feast was consumed with relish.

  The mead and wine flowed as did the ale. Rory’s people were happy and relieved. Another wealthy dowry meant new homes would be constructed posthaste; assuring none would be cold or go hungry this winter, or for many winters to come. Secretly, some of the village women had asked Juliette for a lesson in self-defense, while one young knight strove to imitate Constantine’s fearful battle cry.

  As the evening grew late, Rory gathered Constantine to his chest and pleading exhaustion raced with her to their chamber. They fell atop the bed in a heap of arms and legs until their clothing lay strewn amidst the room haphazard. Rory greedily captured Constantine’s lips in a hungry dance while fondling a taut breast. Constantine moaned. She stroked a silken hand down Rory’s powerful arm glorying in the feel of him. She threaded her long slender fingers through the coarse fur on his broad chest.

  “Do you seek rest, my love?” Rory inquired, as a soft sigh escaped Constantine’s lips. If she were tired he would understand; the day had been long.

  “Oh yes, my lord. I beg you rest your body on mine,” Constantine implored.

  Smiling, Rory shifted his powerful frame over her to accommodate her want. It never ceased to amaze him that she enjoyed the feel of his heaviness upon her. She moaned as he rested a great deal of his weight on her body. She clutched at him pulling him closer still. Rory’s mouth again danced with hers. His large fingers sought her moist crevice and she strained against him.

  Rory explored her breasts with his large hands and eager lips. He suckled at her then entered her with exquisite slowness. They rocked together as one, straining to be as close as two people could be. Their passion grew to a frenzied state until Constantine cried his name over and over amidst her release.

  Feeling well spent, Rory rolled to one side grasping Constantine, keeping her close. She smiled hazily up at him feeling content. She could not believe that at one time she had run from his touch on their first bedding. Constantine sat bolt upright.

  “What is it, little one?” Rory asked with concern.

  “With all that has happened, I have forgotten to explain a bedding to Juliette,” Constantine cried with concern. She tried to vacate the bed but Rory would not release her. He pinned her beneath him.

  “Fear not, my love, you have already elicited a promise from Devon; he will be very gentle and patient.” Rory had no doubt Devon would make sure his gentle little bride would be well versed in the art of loving and lovemaking come morning.

  “But Rory, what if she is frightened?” Constantine fretted, gazing with worry into his eyes.

  She remembered her own fear at their first real coupling. Constantine felt certain Juliette would trust her word that all would be well if she could but tell her.

  “Devon will ease her fears as I did yours, little one. You will see, all will be well,” Rory said with conviction.

  Constantine lay back as Rory shifted even more of his weight onto her. He captured her lips and Constantine relaxed feeling resigned. It was not as if she could burst into their chamber after all. She giggled. Perhaps she should have sent Mary.

  Though wryly amused, she thought perhaps it was Devon who might require the saving.

  * * * *

  Rory watched as a haggard Devon dropped himself onto the bench at the table in the great hall. It was early morning and Rory was surprised Devon was about. Rory took in Devon’s disheveled appearance and scowled with curiosity. It appeared Devon sported a black eye.

  “You are injured,” Rory declared with concern.

  Smiling sheepishly, Devon shrugged him off knowing he would not believe him if he told him how it had come about. “I had a small accident near the bed and connected soundly with something.” Indeed, he had connected with Juliette’s frightened fist as she raced about the room seeking her escape from him. It would seem she had suddenly found his growth to be a bit too impressive.

  “How fares Juliette?” Rory asked.

  “Both she and her fists slumber,” Devon replied, massaging his temples.

  “Come now, Devon, it could not have been all bad?” Rory asked.

  “Nay, not at all. She did after all allow me to live,” Devon said.

  Rory chuckled. He was amused Devon still proclaimed the gentle lass could battle as a berserker. “Look on the bright side, you need never bed another virgin.”

  “Nay, but I must still bed Juliette,” Devon grumbled. The hellcat kept him busy all throughout the night until Devon became convinced she was out to kill him. Though her pummeling of him ceased, she maintained a vigil of getting it right. Devon was done in.

  Rory laughed until Devon grew angry. Spitefully Devon glared at him. “You will never guess what Juliette wore to bed.”

  Still chuckling Rory shrugged his broad shoulders.

  “It was interesting you see. My little bride sat atop our bed nude...nude but for one thing. On her hands she wore my gauntlets.” Devon smirked as Rory turned crimson.

  “I think I hear Constantine howling,” Rory mumbled and fled the room.
/>   * * * *

  A large bellowing rent the air. The hounds who had slumbered on the floor in the great hall raced for safety. The knights who had ventured in for sustenance ventured out just as fast.

  Rory rocked back and forth, a tired haggard look to his face.

  “Damnation he is loud,” Rory growled. “’Tis enough to wake the dead.” Though he could not hide his look filled with pride as he gazed into the bawling red face of his handsome new son.

  The boy belted out another loud wail apparently only to have paused for a breath.

  Devon rocked off to the side while holding his sore nose. “At least he does not flail as one possessed,” he replied. Though he as well appeared just as proud of his own small son. The two young lads had been delivered within just days of one another.

  Both Constantine and Juliette had begged exhaustion of their husbands and retired to their separate chambers to gain some much-needed sleep. Mary was kept busy watching over an injured Lucius. The boy was adventurous and had fallen down a steep incline to save a young lass’s kitten. He professed he was only watching out for his lord’s people. Even the young needed protection. Rory had feared for him, when he retrieved him from the bottom of the incline the lad had wrapped a thin arms around Rory, the other pressed to his chest, and declared one day he would be just like him and make him proud. The boy recounted his saving to anyone who would listen until it seemed Rory had scaled a vertical mountain and saved him from a huge maddened wildcat. The people had looked at him awe struck until Rory found himself blushing with embarrassment. Rory then realizing the precocious child needed more supervision had promptly moved him from a cubby in the warm kitchen into a closer room in the castle at Constantine’s fretful urging.

  “Do you suppose he will ever stop?” Rory questioned Devon, when his young son belted out another cry. Devon was hard-pressed to hear over the wailing of his nephew. He was also preoccupied with dodging young Gregory’s fist as he flailed.