The Reckless Oath We Made

by Bryn Greenwood

  “Raymondin loved her, but soon his brothers, who coveted his castle and his crown, cast into his ears suspicion that Melusine’s secret Sabbaths were of evil intent. That mayhap ’twas the devil’s work that her sons weren ugly. Tho he vowed never do it, Raymondin crept to her bedchamber one Saturday and looked into the keyhole. There she was, like her mother before her.”

  “Disporting in the bath?” said my lady.

  “Yea. Disporting in her bath. Raymondin gazed upon her monstrous tail and her white neck and her glistering scales and her high, round breasts. He saw and he loved her no less. For she was this mysterious creature, and yet she consented to love him and share his bed six days of each week. He went from her bedchamber with all care and silence, and for many years hence, spake no word of what he had seen, and would hear no more accusations against her.

  “The sons of Raymondin and Melusine grew to manhood, and weren known as brave knights, most especially he of the boar’s tusk, that was called Geoffrey Big-Tooth. In a while, there arose a quarrel twixt Geoffrey and his pious brother Froymond. Geoffrey would not see Froymond taken into a monastery, for he scorned monks and feared they held sway over Froymond. In a great fury, Geoffrey fired the monastery. It burned and with it, the monks and his own brother.

  “When the dire news reached Lusignan, Raymondin wept to hear the evil deeds of Geoffrey, and Melusine took herself to his side to succor him upon her white neck. In his grief, Raymondin remembered how it was that Geoffrey was birthed, from the great scaled nether parts of Melusine. He pushed her from him and cried out, Touch me not, odious serpent!

  “Melusine’s grief and anger weren much at war, but she withdrew from Raymondin and said, Thou hast broken the only vow I asked of thee on our wedding day. By cause of the curse upon me, I must renounce thee. Tears upon her cheeks, knowing that the curse must part her from her dear husband, she transformed. Her tail lay in full view before all of the court at Lusignan, and from her back furled two great wings, scaled alike as her tail. Leaving behind two young sons in their cradle, she thrice flew about the castle ramparts, and cried out in grief. She flew thence and was nevermore seen by Raymondin.”

  My lady was quiet, and for a nonce I thought she slept, for I feared my tale was not to her liking. Then she drew her hand from her eyes and looked at me, so that I averted my gaze.

  “That’s really kind of horrible,” she said. “How hard was it for him to keep that one promise? I mean, it’s not like he thought she was grotesque. He still loved her after he knew she was a monster. They were still making babies, but then he had to throw that in her face. That’s cruel. Her son was dead, too.”

  ’Twas true, but I had no answer.

  “’Tis late, my lady. I wish thee good night,” I said.

  “Good night, Gentry.”

  As I rose to go, the Witch’s breath fell cold upon my head.

  “Art thou content to be a bloodless priest?” she said. “Another Froymond, who felt no heat til the church burned round his ears? This mayhap is the last path that lies smooth afore you. I gave her into thy protection believing thy blood was hot and thine heart strong.”

  “Always he proveth his virtue, but he showeth the lady no faith,” the black knight said. I startled to hear him, for ere that night he spake to me only when I was in the joust.

  Gawen and Hildegard discorded over his meaning, and argued til the Witch made them silent.

  “Sooth,” she said. “The lady hath proved her trust in thee, but thou givest not of thine own trust.”

  “Nay. I trust her.”

  “By thy word, not thy deed,” the black knight said. “Many things binden two. Love, fear, a common enemy. Ye two haven not these things. If ye would be bound, it must be with trust.”

  “And ye would tell the boy to build trust with fornication?” Hildegard said.

  “Trust is built as a tower is built. One stone upon another,” the Witch said. “The lady hath laid her stone. Thou must lay thine atop it.”

  “Gentry?” ’Twas Lady Zhorzha, and I knew not how long she said my name and I heard her not. “Are you okay?”

  “Yea, my lady.” I laid my stone. “If thou consentest, I would kiss thee.”

  “Yes, you can kiss me.”

  Many times had I dreamt she might come to be there within my pavilion, under my protection, but I never imagined it thus. She lay upon the bed, waiting to receive me. Where the fire bird touched her not, her legs weren white as cream, and the flesh of her arms was not yet scaled like her mother’s.

  “If thou givest thy heart in fire, thou shalt not fail her when the time comes,” the Witch said.

  I was drawn tight as a bow when I leant down over Lady Zhorzha and pressed my lips to hers. We kissed us. Soft at first and then with great heat.

  “You can touch me,” she said.

  “Where?” ’Twas only half in jest, but she laughed.

  “Wherever you want.”

  Through the fabric of her chemise, her breasts weren round and cool as river rock, but warmed to my hand. I pressed my lips to her throat, where the sun had kissed her before me.

  She laid her hand upon my neck, and I retreated, for ’twas always thus with me. My armor stripped away, and my skin with it, til I was raw and atremble.

  I braced for her curses, but she said, “It’s okay. You can say stop, if you want to stop. Or wait, if you want to wait.”

  She rose upon one elbow, and her other hand made to cover her legs. Quick as the phoenix was hidden, I longed to see it again. I returned to her and lifted her chemise that I might lay my hand upon her bare thigh. When I was not burned, I made my pilgrimage. From her thigh to her broad hip, and from thence to her belly and again to her bosom, drawing alongside her chemise so that she was naked neath my hand. Ere I could falter or quail, I kissed her mouth, her throat, and at last her breast.

  She gave a great sigh of surprise but chastened me not.

  Soon enough, I lost my armor, and everywhere our skin touched was like fire to me. I drew back that I might gather some maille about me for protection. Tho I set my nails upon my shoulders, ’twas some time ere I lost my unrestfulness. She sat up before me and waited, her hair all fire about her shoulders.

  “More?” she said.

  From the black knight’s words, I had prepared myself that swiving was akin to fighting. ’Twas not. Never would I ask quarter of another knight, but I asked it of Lady Zhorzha again and again. Each time, she me granted mercy.

  CHAPTER 26

  Zee

  I thought he was only going to kiss me, so when he touched my breasts, I was about as shocked as he must have been that day in the physical therapy clinic parking lot. There I was thinking we’d go slow and figure things out, but the time from kissing my mouth to kissing my breasts was a minute, tops.

  As fast as we got started, it was over. He pushed himself back up on his knees, and I wondered if he was having another discussion with his voices. I sat up in front of him and said, “Can I touch you?”

  I thought he was going to say no or where, but he said, “Yea, dear lady.”

  I followed the same route he’d taken on me, running my hand up his thigh and over his belly. He was fully dressed, which didn’t seem fair, so I took ahold of the front of his blouse with both hands and untucked it. I leaned in and kissed him, while I ran my hands over his bare chest.

  He turned his head to break the kiss and said, “Wait.”

  Wait, which was not stop.

  I’d promised that was all he had to say, so I took my hands out from under his shirt. For a few seconds he pressed his hands flat on his thighs, and then he put them up to his shoulders and started scratching.

  I waited, calm at first and then, when I realized what was going to happen when he finished scratching, kind of excited. I pulled off my nightgown and laid back on the bed. He stopped scratching. He looked at me an
d squeezed his hand in a fist so tight his knuckles went white.

  “Watching you do that gets me a little wet,” I said. I did not know what constituted medieval dirty talk, but that was true. He had great hands.

  He leaned down and started kissing me again. It was this weirdly urgent kiss, considering I was lying there naked and he wasn’t even touching me. Part of what made it so good was that I knew it wouldn’t last. In another minute, he was going to pull away like my lips were burning him. Maybe they were. A virtuous Christian knight like him kissing an odious serpent like me.

  I knew the clock was running down, so I went at him from two angles. One hand under his shirt, the other one into the gap at the top of his pants. I didn’t even touch bare skin there, because he was wearing boxer shorts. He made a sound that I assumed was wait. Then he was back on his knees next to me, like he was in time-out. His left hand on top of his head. His right hand hovering out in the air. Open, then clenched.

  The situation was complicated and frustrating, but Gentry was hairy and sweaty and hard-dicked, and those are my three favorite things about men. Everything else is negotiable.

  Once I thought of it as negotiating, it wasn’t complicated. It was really simple. We were on a swing going back and forth. Not enough. Too much. Not enough. Too much. In between: a minute of just right.

  When we swung toward not enough, it was this insanely hot high school heavy petting. Like musical chair sex, and I didn’t know when the music would stop.

  When we swung toward too much, I couldn’t even touch him.

  But the in-between, the just right? Oh my god. An absolute free-for-all.

  The next time he kissed me, he didn’t waste time petting my legs. He pushed his hand between my thighs and said, “Sooth, my lady, thy cunt is wet.”

  That word coming out of his mouth made me laugh so hard I started crying a little. He took his hands off me and rocked back on his heels with a serious frown on his face.

  “My lady. Art thou well? Have I wounded thee?”

  “I’m fine, but I can’t believe you said cunt.”

  I expected him to apologize, but he said, kind of defensively, “’Tis a good English word,” which made me start laughing again. I was definitely still buzzed.

  I rolled onto my side to look at him. He was kneeling there, looking at me, and for once I knew exactly what he was thinking. He was taking inventory of what he wanted to do to me.

  “I don’t mind if you say cunt,” I said. Honestly, I could respect a man who would drop the c-word while his hand was in it.

  “I would do more than say it.”

  “Then come here and do it.”

  Finally, I got him to lie down with me. So there wouldn’t be any confusion about whether he had permission, I opened my legs for him, and he went straight for it with his sword hand. Two fingers in me and his thumb digging into that little cushion of fat over my pubic bone. Holy fuck, he had a grip on him.

  We went round and round for I don’t know how long, before he unlaced his pants, and I actually got him in me.

  Too much.

  During one of those too much minutes, lying next to each other, breathing hard, not touching, I realized I was waiting for him to say yea. I wasn’t waiting for it to be over, like I usually did with men. I was waiting for his mouth to come back to mine. My skin felt flushed and prickly. Ready.

  “Now?” I said.

  “Nay, my lady.” He had his face buried in the pillow and his voice was hoarse. Where his hand was lying between us, every time I inhaled, the little hairs on his knuckles brushed against my belly.

  He turned over to face me and opened his eyes.

  Shifting his hand, he traced his thumb from my hip bone down the front of my thigh to my knee. I went goosebumps all over. When I rolled onto my back, he followed, kissing me. I took his hand and put it between my legs, because we kept circling back to that moment when I was the sword.

  I was so close to getting off—something that almost never happened for me with men—that I didn’t know what to do. Except I didn’t want it to be over yet, so I said, “Wait.” That way I could lie next to him, feeling him waiting. His breath was warm on my shoulder when he said, “Now?” but I waited a little longer before I said yes.

  When I came, he had his mouth against mine, but we were breathing so hard it wasn’t really a kiss.

  After that, I wanted what I always wanted: a few minutes to be inside my body by myself. When I pushed Gentry’s hand away, he let me go. We laid there next to each other for a couple minutes, and I felt this quiet calm, like I hadn’t felt in ages. I stretched and my hip popped.

  He wasn’t done, but I wasn’t sure if he wanted to be or not.

  “Do you want me to?” I didn’t offer anything, because I figured he could show me what he wanted. Instead, he started stroking himself off, which I understood. Sometimes it was easier to take care of yourself. After a little bit, he reached over and put his left hand on top of mine, so we held hands while he jerked off. I thought that was sweet, but I wondered what the hag, the nag, and the douchebag had to say about it.

  CHAPTER 27

  Gentry

  While the sky was still dark on Sunday morn, I lit the fire and cooked that Lady Zhorzha and I might break our fast. I made small bread with eggs and ham baked upon them, and brewed coffee. I meant not to wake her, but ere ’twas ready, she rose and came forth from my pavilion.

  “Hey,” she said.

  “Good morrow, my lady.”

  She came to the fire, near enough that I smelled her warmth and saw the red marks of sleep on her arms. Lo all the uncertainty I spent my night hours upon departed as quick as mist under the sun.

  “Art thou hungry?”

  “I could eat,” she said. “But I need to pee first.”

  “I left thee a pot for such matters.”

  “Yeah, no. I’m not gonna pee in a pot and have you empty it. Can I just go squat in the woods like any self-respecting bear?”

  “Yea, Lady Bear, as it pleaseth thee.”

  She laughed and betook herself into the trees. When she returned, I poured the water I had heated that she might wash. Then I whetted my blade and made to shear the night’s beard.

  “You’re seriously going to shave with that big knife?” she said.

  “Yea, but ’tis only a middling knife.”

  She seated herself near me, and I was uneaseful under her gaze.

  “Okay, if that’s how you shave, what the heck are you doing to your hair? I’ve been wanting to ask that for as long as I’ve known you.”

  My hairs weren too recent cut short, but I acted it for her. I clutched a handful where it grew upon my crown and made as though to pass my blade twixt head and hand. She laughed so that I dared not look upon her, for the firelight gilded the shape of her breast and roused flames in mine own bosom.

  “The sound of scissors ’pon my head liketh me not,” I said.

  “Okay. That explains a lot.”

  Our ablutions finished, I took our repast from the fire.

  “If it thee liketh, we might break our fast atop the hill and see the sunrise.”

  “Let me put some clothes on,” she said, for tho she was warm next the fire, the morning was chill.

  “My cloak hangeth in the pavilion, if thou wilt wear it.”

  Lady Zhorzha drew it over her chemise and laced her shoes, while I packed our meal in a basket. Upon the hill, I spread the blanket and we ate in quiet but good fellowship. In the east, the sun painted the sky in red. All was still but for the stirrings of deer and turkeys, and only a whisper of smoke rising from the trees revealed our camp below.

  “Do you come out here every weekend?” she said.

  “As oft as I may, but less than I wish. For my lord Bombardier requireth much of me, and my mother and sister needen me. And thee, my lady.”
/>
  “You don’t have to look out for me all the time. In the last two years, I only desperately needed your help like twice.”

  “’Tis no hardship that I should see thee every day,” I said.

  To my perplexity, she laughed.

  “I jest not, my lady. To hold thee in my protection is both duty and pleasure.”

  “I wish LaReigne was under someone’s protection. It makes me crazy not knowing where she is or if she’s safe. The marshals act like if she had a relationship with this guy, she’s safe. Like those aren’t exactly the guys who kill you.”

  Lady Zhorzha shivered, but she drew not my cloak to cover her shoulders and arms. I had no comfort for her, but the quiet eased me, and I hoped it served her also. She rose and walked to the edge of the bluff. The sun arrived in all its heraldry and lit her hair like a watch fire, like the quick leap of a spark upon dry grass.

  I went to her, and for once, those within me all weren silent. They offered no warning and no guidance, so that I followed only mine own heart. I went down upon my knee to Lady Zhorzha and, finding me there before her, she offered her hand. I envied Sir Rhys’ ease in that passage of a lady’s hand to his lips, but I possessed it not. Still I took her fingers into mine.

  “Mayhap thou art a phoenix, for thy hair is like fire,” I said.

  She laughed and pressed my hand.

  “It’s beautiful here. I wish I could stay here. I wish I could bring Marcus here.” She was heartsore to be parted from her little page. The night past, she had gone up the hill to call him, but his grandfather rebuked her and would not allow her to speak with Marcus. She had been much distraught. “But I can’t stay, can I? I need to figure out what to do, and I have no clue what that is. I feel so fucking helpless,” she said.

  “What wouldst thou do? Wishest thou return to thy mother?”

  “I don’t know. We always fight, and I’m no use to her, but I can’t just hide out here and wait for . . . I don’t even know what I’d be waiting for. We have to go back to Wichita anyway, don’t we?”