The Crimson Z

by Robert Cloud, Lee Rush, Richard Savage

  She smiled in the darkness and leaned into his embrace a bit more, now anxious to hear the tale.

  Chapter Two

  William rode into the village just as he did every other month. It was the way he kept in touch with the people in his kingdom. A few days spent here and there brought problems to his attention and kept the gentry happy. If they were happy, he was happy because it made his rule that much easier to accomplish. As he rode into the center of the village, his eye was caught by a quick flash of bright red billowing in the breeze. He drew closer to the central well of the village and spotted what was under the billowing red. She was quite comely ... buxom, fair of face and small waisted. Just the sort he usually found pleasing to his senses. Unbidden, a picture of her face gazing up at him, hair spread out on a pillow flashed into his mind and he felt a twitch in his groin as a broad smile split his face.

  He stopped at the well to water his horse and was surrounded by the villagers greeting him and begging his attention as he dismounted. While he answered their questions and listened to their minor complaints, he turned from side to side to address each villager in turn but he could always see the redheaded woman from the corner of his eye. He was glad that he had worn a loose doublet for riding today and that none were aware of the twitching of his breeches under it whenever she came fully into his view.

  He kept his hand on the horse's bridle to keep him calm and had to lean to the side now and then to look around the horse just to see the woman again. He wasn't sure later what he had promised the villagers when they spoke with him; he had been too involved in keeping his eye on the woman.

  There she was, always at the back of the small crowd, just watching him with a soft smile on her face. The smile seemed at times to hold an innocence and at other times perhaps a bit of lasciviousness ... directed at him! Even in her homespun clothing she was a vision of loveliness, and that he would have remembered if he had seen her before.

  Finally, when the other villagers had spoken with him and gone about their various businesses ... she was the only one left. He swept off his hat and swung it across his body as he bowed at her approach. When he stood up again, he smiled broadly.

  "And what, lovely lady, did you want to ask of me?"

  As he spoke, he reached out and took hold of her elbow, directing her to the wall surrounding the well so she could sit comfortably while they talked. He put his booted foot on the wall beside her and leaned forward to hear her better. The scent of flowers that emanated from her filled his senses.

  "I bid you good day, Sir. I have but a small favor to ask."

  "Speak then and let me grant your wish."

  "I would not so readily agree were I you, Sir ... until you have heard me out."

  "Such a lovely lady as yourself ... What could I possibly have to fear from granting a request?"

  She smiled slowly, her voice dropping to almost a whisper as she gave him her request.

  "'Tis been told to me, my lord that a wedding would be the future here and I would ask that it be sooner rather than later."

  He was taken aback at the audacity of such a statement, and his head jerked up and away from her. When he saw the expression on her face, he chuckled softly. She was serious but there was a twinkle in her eye. This close to her he could see the light sprinkling of freckles across her face and he longed to reach out and trace a pattern between them. Then he shook his head ... what was this? He had seen beautiful women before ... why was this one so special? He couldn't put his finger on the reason he was so attracted to her, but his shaft certainly had no problem discerning her charms.

  "A wedding, is it? Between..."

  "Why ... between you and I, my lord. It has been foretold, I assure you."

  He laughed aloud at her words, never thinking of such a thing himself. A wedding, indeed!! He had bed many a lass as comely as this one and had never been wed. What made her think it would be different now? And there was the proposed wedding with Princess Elena to bring two realms together ... this woman was beautiful but obviously a bit daft.

  Cara jumped to her feet when he laughed at her, anger coloring her features.

  "Do you not find me comely enough to wed?"

  "Aye ... you are that, lass. It's just that you have caught me completely unawares. I had no such thought when I first saw you."

  He smiled, trying to back up a bit, surprised at her anger and a bit chagrined that he had let himself react in such a manner. When she saw the expression on his face, it was her turn to laugh, her anger forgotten. She turned around, swirling her skirts saucily and laughed heartily. Head thrown back, the deep throated heartiness in the laugh gave her an earthy appearance more than her clothing.

  "No ... I would guess not, my lord. But ... you did think something else, did you not? Something to do with pleasure and passion? I could see it in your eyes, my lord. There is no sense in denying it."

  A sharp shard of annoyance shot through him at the nerve of the wench and brought color to his face. Telling him what he should and shouldn't deny? Who did she think she was?

  "I do not deny it, woman ... I have no need to deny it. I am the lord of this kingdom and what is here ... is mine for the taking."

  "Taking? But surely it would be much more pleasant if it were freely given, my lord?"

  She had stepped closer to him and lowered her voice as she spoke and he again felt that twitching in his loins. He could take her ... who would stop him? He could have what he wanted and who was to tell him nay? His father, long gone, had never bid him to deny his wants and his mother had died at his birth ... there was no one to deny him, least of all this wench before him. In truth, it would be better ... more pleasant if she came willingly to his bed, but deny him?

  He couldn't hold in the laughter as he heard her speak.

  "A cheeky wench, aren't you?"

  "I think you like cheeky, my lord. I see that wicked twinkle in your eye,” she said as she stepped even closer to him, her breasts just barely brushing against him as she winked up at him, a devilish twinkle evident in her eyes.

  He was aware of her firm breasts against him, aware of the heat of her flesh through his shirt when she stepped back, another innocent look on her face. Teasing him with her body, the saucy wench was teasing him! But Gods, the way those pert breasts felt against him! Even through the thin material of her dress and his shirt, he could feel the hardness of her nipples and he wanted more.

  He stood there grinning from ear to ear and looking her over from the top of her head to the tips of her sandaled toes. Then he reached out a hand and before he could grab her wrist and pull her close, she was already in his arms, standing on tiptoes to kiss him.

  His arms were around her though he did not remember making that move. Soft lips pressed against his, gently at first and then with more pressure. His tongue flicked out and tasted strawberries and something else. A momentary flash of memory shot through his mind before he realized what it was. As he savored the taste of strawberries, he also inhaled the scent of her and it was as if he were in a field of freshly cut grass. Again, her breasts were pressed against him but more urgently this time. He was becoming even more aroused by the girl who wanted to claim his heart and future and indecision taunted him. As much as he knew in his head that it was wrong to want her, that his future should lie with the alliance with Elena's father, his loins betrayed him. She was pressed tightly against him and it was not possible for her to be unaware of his desire.

  He was surprised at the audacity of the wench and delighted as well. Most women these days were quite a bit different from this one. Most were staid and stuffy ... not admitting to feelings such as this. But this one ... it was obvious that she enjoyed the fruits of lust as well as he did. She drew her mouth back from the kiss, licked across his lips sensually and chuckled softly. Even after she leaned back from the kiss, the taste of her lingered and was as arousing as her actions.

  "I think that you have seen that twinkle in my eye, my lord."

 
Was she bewitching him? If so ... he was a willing subject. With difficulty, he looked beyond her hair, slowly taking in the surroundings. Was anybody watching them? Could any of them see the lord of the realm quaking in his boots at the closeness of this woman? There were others there, but they didn't seem to see them and that was odd as the two were enjoying their lustiness in the middle of the square, lolling against the well in the center of the village. A fog of lust surrounding him he didn't understand why no one was looking at them ... what they were doing was simply not done in public.

  "Are you a witch,” he gasped out.

  "No my lord ... only one who has seen herself in your arms."

  He was gasping for breath as she wiggled against him; his arms were tight as they clutched her to his chest. Her full breasts pressed against him, her nipples hard as pebbles rubbing across his chest. Her soft belly was tight against his hardness. The throbbing need in his loins was growing, becoming more insistent and his voice was raspy with desire when next he spoke.

  "What is it you want, wench?"

  "Only you, my lord ... forever as mine."

  "Yours?"

  "Aye, my lord ... mine and only mine. I am foretold to bear your sons and I would begin now."

  This wench? The mother of his sons? The wife he would take? Somehow that didn't seem quite right but he knew he wouldn't be able to resist her. His loins were aching with desire for her.

  "Name, woman. What is your name,” the words were gasped as he sought breath.

  "Cara, my lord. Surely you have seen me in your dreams? Dreamt of my touch and my kisses? You have ... haven't you?"

  Before he could think to deny it, her visage in his dreams was foremost in his mind, though he had not realized it before this moment. He was almost panting for breath as the freshly mown grass scent filled his senses, his loins pulsing as the heat of her body pressed against him.

  She leaned back in his arms and gazed into his eyes and he felt as though he were drowning in a pool of blue water, deep and unfathomable. Her smile warmed his heart as the rest of her warmed his body.

  "What is this, wench? What are you doing to me?"

  "I? I do nothing, my lord, except offer myself as the prophecy foretold. It is said that I will bear you many sons, though only one of them will become renowned, the others will carry on your name and your heritage, my lord."

  He moved his hands to her shoulders to push her back as he heard her words. He wanted to push her back, but his fingers closed on her shoulders and simply held her there. He gazed down at her, indignation flashing in his eyes.

  "You take much for granted, woman."

  "Nay, sir ... I speak only the truth as is foretold. I will be the one to share your life and times. Can you not feel that truth?"

  As she spoke, her hips pressed harder against him, swaying sensuously from side to side, causing his shaft to twitch under his clothes.

  "Gods, you incense me, woman."

  Her smile was sweet and wicked at the same time and she stepped back, her body no longer pressing against him. His body ached at the absence of warmth and he almost grabbed her and pulled her tight again.

  He seemed to fall further into that pool of blue as he fought to regain his senses. His hand reached out and grasped at her plain gown to pull her closer, but she danced out of his reach.

  "What say you, my lord? Do you believe the prophecy as I have told it? Or do you think me merely a slut who would have her way with you?"

  The certainty of her words speared into his heart and mind. Was it possible? Did she speak the truth?

  "Who has foretold these things, woman? Who has made you so sure in your mind that I should consider this ‘marriage'?"

  "The Witch of Wolstad has said it, my lord and she is never wrong. She has cast the bones and read the leaves and each time it is told the same. I am to bear your sons and continue your blood into the future."

  "A witch, is it? Of Wolstad, you say? I've heard of the witch but never that she did fortunes of future happenstance. You're sure of this? Sure enough to wage your future on her words?"

  The red hair fluttered in the breeze as she nodded her head, a serious expression on her face.

  "Aye, ‘tis true, my lord. I am the one."

  He laughed heartily and caught her wrist, pulling her back against him. He leaned down and nuzzled against her neck, inhaling her scent again, getting dizzy again with the swirling aromas ... berries, newly cut hay and overshadowing it all ... her arousal.

  "Come to the castle, wench and we shall see what we shall see."

  "I come for a wedding, my lord ... naught else."

  "You'll come for whatever I say, woman. I make the laws here. I make the decisions, not some witch from the outer reaches and not some village wench either ... even if she is as comely as you."

  Surging desires squelched his sense of decorum and propriety, though he had use for neither in his position. He was the lord of the realm and what he wanted ... he took and enjoyed. Yet ... this one ... this woman was something he had not encountered before. His loins were enflamed with need and his soul was singing as it never had before. He was breathing faster and harder as her scents filled him. His shaft was throbbing and he groaned aloud as she stepped back from him again.

  "A wedding, my lord?"

  He could only nod his acquiescence for she had stolen his breath as well as his senses. He had to have her and consequences be damned. He pulled her close again and tightened his grip on her, holding her as he kissed her deeply and passionately. He groaned in the kiss as his shaft throbbed against her.

  Almost thrusting her from him, he remounted his horse and then pulled her up to sit behind him. The warmth of her pressed against his back and her arms around his waist seared his skin with heat.

  The ride back to the castle was interminable and difficult beyond belief. All he wanted was to leap from the horse, take her into the fields and ravish her over and over again. Her nipples were hard as little buttons pressing into his back, the fullness of her breasts squashed against him, teasing him to greater heights of need. It was all he could do to actually ride to the castle and dismount his horse in the courtyard. He was sure all could see the rampant shaft beneath his clothes, but none appeared to take notice. Before his feet hit the ground he was bellowing for the priest to be summoned and a feast to be prepared.

  He lifted the woman from the horse and stared into her eyes, trying to determine if she had indeed bewitched him.

  "Say it, woman. Tell me you have bewitched me so I can understand this need."

  "I cannot, my lord for I have not bewitched you. I have simply spoken the truth as it has been told to me."

  "Now, woman. Get to my rooms now."

  "Nay, my lord ... not until the wedding is done."

  He stood there before her in his courtyard, shaking with desire. His legs were weak and trembling, his heart was pounding in his chest and he had no breath to speak. He roughly shoved her away and rasped his commands.

  "Prepare yourself then ... the wedding shall begin as soon as the priest arrives."

  He could barely walk as he turned away and entered the castle, waving at his aides to assist the woman in what she needed.

  In his rooms, surrounded by advisors, he was in a daze ... his shaft was pulsing and hard although apparently invisible to his advisors.

  "My lord, you cannot..."

  "I will."

  "But my lord ... who is this woman? Why would you..."

  "Silence!!"

  "My lord, the constraints you put upon me make it necessary for me to point out that..."

  "I said silence!!"

  He stalked his quarters, pacing like a deranged lion in his den.

  "I will have this woman."

  "Aye, my lord, but as a wife? As the mother of your sons? You know nothing of this peasant and your plans to wed the Princess Elena? What of your plans to meld the two realms?"

  "Damn the two realms."

  "My lord!!"

  Fast
er than a cobra striking, his hand was enveloped in the ruffles around the aide's throat.

  "Enough!! Bring the priest and the woman to me. Now!"

  Moments later, the peasant woman was standing before him, dressed in a gown of silk that he recognized from his mother's closet. The color of the material brought out the deep blue of her eyes ... eyes that sparkled with trust and lust as she gazed at him. Her creamy breasts overfilled the bodice of the dress and taunted him. His hands twitched with the need to rip the bodice from her and fondle her breasts. His breath was coming faster again and just as he reached for her, the priest rushed in ... breathless from his hurried journey from the nearby abbey.

  He barely heard the words the priest spoke as he blessed the union of the lord of the realm and his new found bride. As soon as the final words were spoken, he spread his arms, gathering the witnesses in a loose grasp and hurried them from the room. When he turned back to his bride, he smiled and moved toward her quickly, pulling her into his arms and gazing down into her eyes.

  "I'm not sure I believe you when you say you aren't a witch, for you surely have bewitched me."

  "I swear to you, my lord ... I am no witch."

  She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him softly ... but the kiss turned from gentle to passionate as she pressed her tongue to his lips and then between them. He suckled her tongue, holding her tight, then slipped his arms under her and lifted her. In only a moment he had her next to the bed, unfastening the back of the gown she wore and then letting it fall to the floor. Under it, she had been dressed with a tight corset and pantaloons; he grumbled under his breath as he undid the laces of the corset.

  "Never again, woman ... you will never wear one of these again."

  Then the corset was around her ankles, his hands fumbling with the pantaloons and then ripping the top of them in his haste to see her naked. She gasped as he pulled them, the material digging into her tender flesh, but she stood there, smiling up at him and reveling in his obvious yearning for her body. Then she reached up and caressed his cheek lovingly.

  "My lord ... we have all the time in the world now. Your haste is unnecessary. I am here and yours for all our days. It has been foretold."