Dr Casswell's Student

by Sarah Fisher

  ‘And they are here now? They are in the castle?’

  ‘They came in just before curfew, disguised as merchants, and are even sleeping now under the shelter of the castle walls. They will be in their place by cock-crow tomorrow. Have no fear your ladyship, it is all arranged. Your husband, the Lord Usher, and I, are to leave for the hunt by first light, and as we pass through the stand of trees down by the ford the ambush will be sprung. A swift blow from a well placed sword blade and your husband and his feckless cousin will be no more.’

  There was a moment or two’s silence, and then my ladyship said, ‘Good, ’tis just a shame that that dissolute priest will not to be amongst the hunting party. Once my husband is dead I want you to eliminate that evil old man with all haste. He chills me to the very marrow. Had it not been for him I believe my father would never have married me off in the first place.’ There was another pause and then she added, ‘And what of your little trollop, Arturo? For all your words in the heat of passion and the maw of lust are you sure you want her with you? Are you sure you can master her? Would it not be better to turn her loose now while she can be of no trouble to either of us? There are whores a-plenty all over the city that will do exactly as you bid them for a handful of coppers, and who have no history that might condemn us.’

  Arturo laughed. ‘I am certain of it, my lady. I would have her with me, truly.’

  As if forewarned by some other sense, I lay stock still on the bed and closed my eyes. A second or two later Arturo drew aside the curtains that draped my fetid cell. From behind half-closed lids I watched him gaze down upon me, examining my nakedness with an unhealthy interest. I sensed that some part of him wanted me because I belonged to the man who, for some reason, he perceived to be his enemy. In his mind I was little more than his master’s toy and he, a peasant, wanted nothing more than to have me for his own, to prove he was as good as the man he planned to betray and murder.

  ‘Have no fear, my lady,’ he said, running his hateful hands up over my thighs and stroking a finger up into the tight reaches of my quim. ‘I will master her. And when all this is over and settled, I think I shall take her as my wife. Always at my beck and call, my bed companion. And I shall keep her like this, naked and tied until she is fully broken.’ He cupped my belly and stroked it thoughtfully. ‘I would like her to bear me sons.’ Feigning sleep, I moaned softly and turned a little under his touch so as not to arouse his suspicions, while my mind raced with fear and hatred.

  His despicable finger sank a little deeper and I moved against it sleepily, as if all that was left in my drugged frame was the force that drives an animal to couple with its mate; not reason, not sound-thinking, but only the thrust of nature and the heat of the rut.

  Arturo seemed much pleased with my response.

  ‘What is it that holds you there? Does she stir? Do you think she’s heard what we said?’ asked my lady anxiously. ‘If that is the case we may need to rethink her fate. Is she awake?’

  Arturo cupped one breast, his fingers working at the nipple until it hardened under his insistent caress. ‘No, not yet, lady. Look, she sleeps like a babe. The draught you gave her works still, but not enough so she loses all feelings. Look how she moves so freely against me. Perhaps…’ I could hear the amusement and suppressed excitement in his voice, ‘… perhaps we might have a little more fun with her while she rests.’

  Her ladyship snorted. ‘Don’t be so ridiculous, man. We need her to stay asleep. Sometimes Arturo, I think your entire life is governed by that great thing that hangs between your legs. I have already explained, I must go downstairs and entertain that buffoon Usher so no one is suspicious of my absence. I am late already. Is your whore well tied?’

  Arturo, fooled by my sleepiness and perhaps still thinking about my feigned compliance, gave the rope the most superficial of inspections.

  ‘Aye. She is secure.’

  ‘Good,’ said my lady. ‘Leave her there, then. Best you gag her too so she won’t be able to attract anyone’s attention if she does happen to wake.’

  Arturo did as he was asked, and I struggled not to retch as he thrust a filthy rag into my mouth and bound it tight with another – all the time aware that I was supposed to be in a drugged stupor.

  ‘Hurry up,’ snapped my ladyship. ‘Time is racing.’

  I suspect Arturo’s progress was greatly hampered by the fact that he could hardly bear to leave me thus: naked, tied and alone and unable to resist his advances. It was everything he could have possibly wanted and more. His fingers frantically travelled feverishly between my breasts and my sex. For two pins I knew he would have stayed.

  Finally my lady appeared behind him, her face contorted with anger. ‘For God’s sake leave her be, man. There will be time enough for your questionable pleasures later. If we are not down in the hall soon our absence will arouse all manner of trouble.’

  And so finally, after what seemed like an eternity, I was alone. With the door closed fast I slipped off the ropes that bound me and spat out the evil rag that silenced me. I had to find a way to warn my master – and quickly. I scrambled off the bed, fighting the nausea and the dizziness that threatened to undo me. Still naked, I hurried to the great oak door, my head spinning from the after-effects of my ladyship’s noxious potion.

  It seems the saints were on my side that night, for I was just about to throw open the door when I heard muffled voices coming from outside. Crouching on my hands and knees I peered through the keyhole into the passageway beyond. Lolling idly against the wall were two of the household guards, no doubt set there by Arturo to keep watch.

  Although my brain was still addled, I held back for a moment or two. I had no idea what instructions the men had been given. Would they let me by without reporting what they had seen? Unlikely. My master’s life was at risk. I had to warn him, and dare not take the chance of discovery. Perhaps I might pass by as my lady’s maid, left behind in her chambers to tidy. But not naked, as I was now.

  Hastily I looked around the room for something suitable to wear. Discarded on the settle a fine white linen petticoat – a beginning at least. I pulled it on, and as I did I saw by one of the great tapestries on the wall, almost concealed by an ornamental wooden pier, was a narrow door set back into the stonework.

  I had heard many tales that the castle was riddled with secret passages, and wondered if this was one such passage. Picking up a blanket for a cloak, I wound it around my shoulders and then eased open the concealed door. The cold air hit me like a rush of water. Sure enough, out beyond the door was a little landing and a narrow spiral staircase that wound down into the gloom. Afraid I would lose heart if I delayed too long, I plucked a torch from a wall sconce and warily began my descent into the inky darkness.

  In my drugged state it seemed a strange and almost unreal journey that appeared to twist down into the very bowels of the earth. I had to keep tight hold of my thoughts to stop them from running away with sheer terror. At each landing – and there were many – I listened through the doors that presented themselves and looked where I could, to see if I might find safe passage back to my master’s apartments, or even to the chapel to find Father Orme. Several of the doors were locked from the inside, and those that weren’t were in parts of the castle that were unfamiliar to me. I was too afraid to risk getting lost. Finally, after what seemed like an age, I realised I had reached the ground floor and the courtyard, and with a great rush of relief I pushed open a heavy wooden door that led outside.

  The smell of the night air filled my senses. A brazier burned brightly in the lee of a wall, and as my eyes adjusted to the gloom I saw I was not alone. At first I thought I was surrounded by simple travelling peasant folk who had come in to the castle for the night to take shelter from the dangers of the open road.

  And then my heart sank.

  Staring at me with a mixture of surprise and disbelief were a group of four or five people. The
y were working men and they had been drinking. I looked across towards the night watchman’s station. It seemed an awful long way, and I knew my bare feet, the rough blanket, and the thin wisp of a petticoat were scant protection against the chill night air – or anything else.

  One man, eyes bright with beer and lust, stepped forward, and pushing the door closed behind me, trapped me between his arms. He leered down. His breath was foul.

  ‘Why, hello my pretty thing. What brings you out on a night like this, so poorly dressed against the cold? Seems to me you’re in need of a good man who can warm you through and keep you a-bed nights.’

  He laughed and tugged at my blanket as he spoke. Had he been sober I would have called on his better nature to assist me in my mission to save the life of my master. But the ruffian’s reason had been driven out by drink, leaving only those dregs, those lesser demons that rule a man when his is in his cups.

  ‘I have to go, I have an important message—’ I began in an appealing tone. ‘—It is a matter of life and death. Truly, please let me pass.’ I made to step out from under his arm but he caught hold of the blanket, wound it around his forearm, and pulled it tight. It came away and for an instant I broke free, but he anticipated the moved and grabbed my arms, banging me back against the door. The blow winded me and I struggled to catch my breath. My drunken companion laughed at my discomfort. ‘Not so fast, my little pretty,’ he slavered like a breathless dog. ‘Did no one ever tell you it’s rude to leave without first being introduced? Would you care to join my friend and me by the fire for a cup or two of the finest wine?’

  Behind him the brazier spat and flared for an instant, and in the glow I knew I must seem the very thing the men had summoned from their basest fantasies.

  My white petticoat was fashioned from the sheerest of fabrics, revealing every curve and plain of my body. Here and there it clung to my flesh where the fever from the potion had lifted dewy patches. The slob wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, his eyes flashing with drink driven lust.

  ‘Please let me go,’ I beseeched again, but knowing my words had fallen on deaf ears. ‘I have to go. It really is a matter of the gravest urgency – of life and death.’

  ‘Life and death, eh?’ he said, rolling closer so I could feel his grotesque manhood pressing into my belly, and had to turn my face from his putrid breath. ‘An angel, are you? Seems you’ve answered a journeyman’s prayer tonight. Open your legs for me and show us a little piece of paradise, sweet angel.’

  As he spoke his lips sought mine and his tongue drove between them, while his hands mauled my breasts and he pressed his knee between my thighs. I tried to push him off, though I dare not scream out for fear of alerting the guards. If they took me back into the castle, fate might see to it that it was my ladyship and not my master who was informed of my plight – and then all hope would be lost. Even so, it was my instinct to fight.

  I twisted away from my would-be seducer. To my horror he laughed and held me all the tighter by the shoulders. Looking back to his drunken compatriots, several of who were already on their feet, he beckoned them closer.

  ‘Come here, Saob, and help me with this slippery little wench. And you, Francis and Leo. You shall all have your turn, or perhaps she has a few friends upstairs who would like the company of good men such as ourselves? What say you wench?’

  ‘Please,’ I begged, wriggling from his grasp, ‘I am alone, please just let me go. I really have to go.’ But my appeal was lost on him.

  Saob, if indeed that was his name, was a rough giant of a man. He grabbed my arms and snatched them back behind me, while the first slob caught the fastenings at the neck of the petticoat and ripped it open to the waist.

  His eyes widened at the sight of my naked breasts. The treacherous night air hardened the nipples instantly.

  ‘Oh by Christ, such pretty, pretty jewels we have here,’ he slobbered drunkenly, running his rough work-hardened palms over first one poor breast and then the other. He lifted one to his lips and drew the nipple deep into his mouth. ‘Seems we have struck real lucky tonight, my old friend,’ he mumbled thickly around the tormented bud.

  Behind me, Saob slipped a hand across my ribs to join the slob in his explorations and cupped the other breast, while the first still sucked long and hard. This second man was older, thicker set, with a full beard and smelt of beer and sweat and tobacco. His younger companion, suckling still, made puppyish noises of pleasure as he ran his tongue around the hardened peak of my dugs.

  ‘If you ask my opinion, young Jacob,’ the older Saob slurred, ‘there’s plenty of her for us all. Get her on her hands and knees. Five of us can tup her at once if you know what you’re doing. Get her down and I’ll show you want I mean. Come on, she’ll need to be well wet though.’ He spat into the palm of his grubby hand.

  Jacob pulled away and snorted, his top lip curling. ‘You want to share her? All at once? I’d rather take turns, and as I found her I’ll go first.’ He turned his bleary attention to me, but still spoke to his companion, ‘Just see this…’ he croaked. While he’d been licking and tonguing my nipples he had gently slid his hand against my quim, where the moisture, I knew, already coated his thickset fingers. He lifted his hand to show those glistening fingers in the light of the fire and to prove he needed no assistance.

  But to my horror, despite his refusal to share, his companion Saob pushed me down onto the rough soiled straw without any further ado. ‘Just as you like, cousin, but let’s get on with it. Night moves on and we’ve to be up early. You can have the wench first. Do as you will with her, and then the rest of us will take our turn. Nothing fires a man’s blood like watching another tup a wet and willing wench. Away with you, boy, to the job in hand.’

  Jacob dropped to his knees beside me and then sucked on his fingers, slick with my juices, his face the image of pleasure. ‘A fair deal, cousin. I would drink awhile at this particular well, I think.’ He wriggled forward until he was between my legs, and spread me wide open.

  If the truth were told I would wish to heaven that the events of the next few hours could be wiped from my mind, but it cannot be so. As the moon and the stars moved slowly through the firmament, I knew that whatever else happened I had to keep my wits about me so that when I had the chance, I could slip away from my lust driven captor. I prayed as Jacob pulled me closer that that moment would come soon.

  Jacob eagerly lifted the tattered remains of my petticoat and slapped a wet kiss on the seat of his desire, breathing me in, his tongue working back and forth across that throbbing slit. His caresses went on and on until I thought I might die. If I had expected anything from my chance encounter with the drunken workmen, pleasure was most certainly not amongst the things it might have been.

  While Jacob lapped at my quim, taking his fill, kneeling beside me, Saob caught hold of my hair and dragged my head into his lap, guiding his grizzled cock deep into my mouth with one meaty paw. I had little choice but to suck the old journeyman dry.

  Jacob, meanwhile, had lit a beacon fire in my belly with his lips and tongue that threatened to rage out of control and engulf me. As I began to lose myself he thrust his fingers deep. My body grasped him tight, and then all was lost. Before the waves of pleasure had finished washing over me, Jacob spread my legs wide and mounted me, driving his raging shaft home, and then lifting my legs up onto his shoulders so he could drive deeper still. The man’s thrusts were so fierce I bayed in pain, but this only seemed to egg him on.

  In my mouth and under the touch of my fingertips, Saob began to thrust raggedly too, dragging me hard up against him, so when finally his seed pumped into my mouth he succeeded in almost choking me. But this was no more than a beginning.

  Between my legs, Jacob took no more than seconds to follow Saob’s example, and came with a vengeance, filling me to the brim with his frothing juices. I opened my eyes as the first intense waves of passion passed, and was stunne
d to find I was looking up into the faces of Jacob and Saob’s compatriots and fellow travellers.

  The unnerving huddle of men had the look of hounds on the scent of a young vixen; bright eyed, trembling with excitement, slavering over my exposed and sweating body.

  And then, under Saob’s watchful eye, they did indeed take their turns with me. One, two, three and more at a time, filling quim and mouth, hands and arse with their distended cocks, their filthy slack lips and kisses, their fingers molesting my breasts and belly. They were all over me, their raw animal passion so all-consuming I thought I was finally lost beneath a dark sea of unending, faceless, nameless desires.

  By the time they were finally sated, there was no part of me, or my petticoat, no fold, no crease, no part of my body or soul that was not wet or stained with the seed of those wild, dark travelling men.

  My saving grace was drink, for between each round with me they re-filled their flagons and drank deep and hearty. They had been drinking long before my untimely arrival and it is well know that strong drink and passion soon drives a man into a deep slumber. I struggled to keep my wits about me until Jacob finally pulled me close and threw his cloak over us both.

  ‘Let us take a little sleep, lass,’ he murmured, the words thick with beer and good wine. ‘Soon we will begin again.’

  As soon as his eyes, their lids so heavy, settled on his cheek I eased myself out from under his weighty arm, found the blanket he’d dragged off me earlier and, wrapping it tight around my shoulders, headed back to the castle.

  It might be better to go back though the secret door. I was just pondering what best to do when, to my complete surprise, I saw a familiar figure sloping across the courtyard.

  ‘Father Orme,’ I whispered under my breath, a little afraid in case I woke the travellers. Clutching the blanket tight around me I hurried across the yard, managing to sidestep the sleepy guard who was accompanying the elderly priest without any difficulty.