Sword Play

by Sahara Kelly

  Linnet pulled at her lower lip in thought. “Perhaps we can see these two off, as well.”

  Mechele glanced at her cousin. “I know that look. You have a plan, don’t you?”

  Linnet’s sparkling eyes caught the sun and flashed golden. “Well, I’m thinking that pampered knights won’t relish getting their hands dirty in the piggery. Nor will they enjoy mucking out the stable. Or any one of the other hundred or so filthy jobs our people will be happy to forgo for a little while. They’ve strong backs and strong arms, or so it appears, why not put them to some real hard work?”

  Mechele grinned. “Oh yes. I like it. And if it gives us a chance to see them stripped and naked so much the better. After all, if they work for us…” she let her voice trail off suggestively.

  Linnet smiled wickedly. “Our thoughts are as one, Mistress Mechele. Would you care to precede me?”

  She swept a curtsey and watched her beloved cousin as she moved towards the huddle of men.

  Dear Mechele. Married so young and widowed too soon. It was a stroke of fate that had brought them together, but it was their need for friendship and affection that had cemented them into a unit.

  Gripping her skirts, she stalked behind Mechele and noticed three heads turn as they approached.

  “Greetings, travellers. Welcome to Maltby Abbey,” said Mechele politely.

  Linnet tried not to stare as she met two pairs of eyes head on. From a distance they’d been impressive. From close up they were magnificent.

  She found herself drawn into a sunny blue smile.

  “My Ladies,” he bowed elegantly, only to receive a subtle nudge in the ribs from his friend.

  “Mistress,” nodded the dark one, watching Mechele like a hawk sighting its prey.

  “You are looking for work, I understand. This is surprising. Two men of your strength and—manners?” Mechele challenged them head on.

  Linnet waited, expressionless, for their reply, aware that the blonde one was watching her intently, so intently she could almost feel his gaze.

  “We are recently discharged from our Lord’s service, Mistress,” said the dark one in a deep voice. “We decided to travel for a while and work for our keep as we go. ‘Tis pleasant to see this land at peace. We enjoy it.”

  The words were ordinary, but the man was not. Linnet knew her first reaction had been the correct one, and from the way Mechele was responding, she’d caught on as well.

  “And what could you offer in the way of skills? Two strapping lads such as yourselves would be an asset to our land, that’s for sure. Have either of you ever ploughed?”

  Linnet nearly choked, but held it back, knowing she was still under study by those damnably blue eyes. “Are you familiar with work on land such as this?” she asked in her turn.

  Both men nodded.

  Dazzled by the gleam of sunshine on the two heads, Linnet blinked. Faith, these two were a devastatingly attractive team.

  “Indeed, Mistress. We are not afraid of hard work, and from time to time have both had cause to find our way around a farmstead. You need not be concerned about our abilities to be of service.”

  The blonde one smiled and Linnet felt the day brighten. She must really put up her guard against this one.

  “Your abilities to service our maids might cause a problem,” she said snappishly. “We are a genteel estate, so if that’s your intent, you might as well move on right now.”

  A dark eyebrow rose and a light chuckle followed as the blonde shook his head. “You need have no fears on that score, Mistress.”

  Both dark eyebrows soared at that comment, and the blonde coloured slightly as if he’d realized the implications of what he’d just said.

  “Not that we’re…I mean we’re not…” he waved his hand at his friend and stuttered helplessly.

  Mechele smothered a giggle. “Good thing, too. Such a waste if that had been the case.”

  The dark eyes turned on her again. “I’m flattered you think so, Mistress.” Damn, he purred. No other way to describe it.

  Linnet gathered her scattered wits. “Very well. We can always use extra pairs of hands. You may start by mucking out the stables. You have already met Edwin our steward…” she gestured at the elderly man leaning quietly against the fence. “He’ll show you where you can sleep and where to find the tools you’ll need.”

  The two women turned away, only to be stopped by a word.

  “Mistress?” It was the blonde one who spoke, and directly to her. Linnet felt his eyes spear through her clothes to the skin beneath. And damn if that traitorous body didn’t respond. Her nipples budded hard, quite without her permission, and a stirring in her loins surprised her with its intensity.

  “May we not know your names?”

  Linnet swallowed past the dryness that had suddenly encompassed her throat. “I am Mistress Linnet Aylmer. This is Mistress Mechele Trenowyth. You are now in the employ of Sir Dunstan Trenowyth of Maltby Abbey. I trust that is satisfactory?”

  “For now.”

  The dark one almost whispered the words, and Linnet could feel Mechele tremble beside her.

  She grabbed Mechele’s elbow and pulled her away, returning to the house in almost unseemly haste. These two were much too disturbing for her peace of mind, and Mechele seemed affected too.

  Damn, damn and damn. Another complication they could both have done very well without.

  Chapter 4

  For the next few days, two battle-hardened men found muscles they had forgotten they’d possessed, as the Maltby Abbey estate required much hard manual labour.

  “By the Saints,” hissed Guy one night, sinking neck deep into the small pool they’d found and appropriated as their bath.

  Gilles simply groaned.

  They’d ploughed and mucked and fed and watered, fixed an elderly hand pump so that water flowed once more near the main house, and today, to add insult to injury, they’d been set to weeding the vegetable and herb garden. For the two tall men the constant bending had been agony. They were now sore, tired, a little warm from the constant heat of the sun on their bare backs, and very much irritated.

  For they’d seen scarcely a hair of the two women who had brought them here in the first place.

  “I would sorely like to have Mistress Mechele scrubbing my back right at this moment,” muttered Guy as he rubbed at his skin with a handful of leaves.

  “I’d rather have Mistress Linnet rubbing my front,” grinned Gilles. “With hers. Naked.”

  The latter comment was unnecessary, since Guy had met that wicked smile with one of his own. “It’s good we have different goals, my friend, but methinks it’s past time when we set a few plans in motion to attain those goals.”

  Gilles nodded emphatically. “I swear if I catch sight of her skirts as she darts around a corner one more time, I’m going to come in my breeches from the wanting,” he agreed. “Such a fine figure of a woman, that Linnet. All cold and busy on the surface, but I’ll bet you my best warhorse that she’s fire beneath the covers.”

  “And I’m thinking that coy and maidenly Mistress Mechele has passion buried inside her that would burn a man’s hands. And his lips, and his…”

  Two cocks stirred in spite of the cold bath their owners were enduring.

  “Have you noticed that even though we’ve had no chance to talk with them, they do seem to be around where we are working? An awful lot, I’d say, considering they have the responsibility of running this place?” Guy curved his lips as his words fell softly across the darkness between them.

  “Indeed I have, Guy. Indeed, I have.” Gilles also smiled. “Perhaps the ladies are not as uninterested in us as they would like us to believe?”

  Guy snorted. “With all modesty, my friend, how could they not be? We’ve met just about every man here, and there’s none I’d consider worthy bedmates for those two maids.”

  “Yes. Perhaps they are indeed ripe for the plucking. And I, for one, would like to remove Mistress Linnet’s feathers.�
�

  “Well, at least we’ve had chance to cover the estate over these past few days. What would you say about Lymington’s complaints?”

  Gilles pursed his lips as he thought about Guy’s question. “Tidy, well run, the crops seem to be in fine fettle. I’d say that perhaps Lymington has a valid point about their tribute. But there’s something that doesn’t sit right with me about Lymington and his words.”

  “Me neither.”

  Both men fell silent, prey to their individual thoughts, until the cold water began to chill even their solid flesh.

  “Let’s head back, Gilles. We’ve been gone long enough.” Guy stepped from the water, shaking himself free of the clinging droplets.

  Gilles laughed as he did the same. “I swear the farm hands think we’re up to no good with our nightly baths. ‘Heathen habits’…” he mimicked, repeating the words of not a few of their fellow workers, who couldn’t understand the practice of immersing one’s entire body in water.

  “The concept of cleanliness seems to spread far too slowly for my liking,” agreed Guy. “I swear some think we creep away for an assignation. Probably with each other.”

  Gilles blanched. “By the Saints, do you think so? That will sit poorly with our hostesses.”

  Guy choked back a laugh. “My friend, I think we need have no fears on that score.”

  Their voices were quiet and nearly drowned by the noise of the water as it babbled around them.

  “In fact, we might just want to make sure. I feel eyes watching right this moment.” He dropped the cloth he’d been using to wipe away the water, and stretched, letting the moonlight brush his nakedness and his cock, which was standing away from his body now, in semi arousal.

  “You felt it too?” answered Gilles softly. “Perhaps you have the right of it.”

  He also took care not to hide his body as he dried it slowly, being careful to make sure that anyone watching from a nearby location could get a good eyeful of his personal assets.

  “That should do the trick,” grunted Guy, reaching for his breeches.

  “I surely hope so. I tire of this waiting and working game. It’s time for us to claim our dues, I think. And I’d prefer a pot of honey to a pot of gold.”

  With a smothered laugh, the men strode back to the stables, and their uncomfortable beds amidst the stored hay.

  *~~*~~*

  Two pairs of eyes closed simultaneously as the men walked away from them.

  Two almost identical sighs issued from two sets of lips, and Linnet and Mechele held on to each other, neither sure if their legs would support them.

  “Did you see…?” breathed Mechele.

  “Did I ever,” sighed Linnet.

  “So fine. Such bodies.”

  “Such upstanding cocks. Dear heavens above, I’m aching for want of some of that deep inside me.”

  Mechele stifled a giggle. “Please don’t tell me you’re talking about Guy. I want him so bad I swear I can taste him already.”

  Linnet sagged in relief. “No, sweetheart. ‘Tis Gilles who sends these stupid shivers to my knees. Let’s hope the gentlemen are of a like mind.”

  The two girls took a different path back to Maltby, avoiding the stables and the two men by mutual consent.

  “They have worked hard, have they not?” Linnet’s question broke the silence.

  “Indeed they have. I’m surprised to find how little they’ve complained, and how much they’ve done,” answered Mechele. “Truly, in these few short days, much more has been accomplished than I could have hoped.”

  “And we’ve had no more little disasters, either,” mused Linnet.

  “Somehow, I doubt that those two would resort to trickery, Linnet,” said Mechele.

  Linnet chuckled. “Are you saying that because you would like to keep them around for a while to help with the work? Or because you’d hate to think ill of someone you desperately want between your thighs?”

  Mechele answered with a chuckle of her own. “A little of both, I suppose.”

  “Well, I confess, I cannot believe that Gilles would act in an underhanded manner. It must be something in his eyes. They look…honest.”

  “And very blue,” teased Mechele.

  Linnet sighed. “Yes. So very, very blue.”

  The two women silently entered their home and each bid the other goodnight.

  There were four restless bodies at Maltby Abbey that night, though none knew that their fevered and sensual restlessness was echoed by another. But nor could any of the four suppress the hope that events might just conspire to bring them together and relieve their longings.

  *~~*~~*

  The next day was Saturday, a day that Maltby Abbey used for easier chores, in order to lighten the workload and help their tenants relax their hearts and minds in preparation for the Sabbath day to follow.

  Guy and Gilles had been sent to the river, with instructions to examine the stone walls that formed a small dam in one area, and to check the workings of the little waterwheel attached to the barn which provided the power to grind their wheat.

  The sun was shining from a cloudless sky, and both men were happy to do this particular job, stripping off their shirts and merrily wading through the shallow waters as they ran knowledgeable fingers across the joints looking for weaknesses.

  Gilles loved the water, and playfully splashed around, enjoying the moment in his own way.

  Guy was fascinated by the workings of the mill and several times nearly lost his hand to the steadily turning wheel.

  “All seems well from here,” he called.

  “Here too,” answered Gilles, emerging breathless from beneath the water where he’d sunk to observe the lower stone foundations.

  “Perhaps this is not such a hard job after all,” chuckled Guy, shaking his wet black hair out of his eyes. “Wonderful things, water wheels.”

  The two men shared an identical grin.

  A sudden shout caught their attention and drew their eyes downstream. “Careful, Linnet. Damnation. There she goes…”

  More shouts followed, and Guy raised an eyebrow at his friend in query.

  “By all means, Guy. Let us find out what all this noise is about.”

  Following the sounds of crashing brush and girlish calls, the two men found themselves on the banks of the river, some way past the dam, where the water slowed and the shallows were quite muddy.

  Stepping stones forded the stream at this point, leading from the bank upon which they stood to the meadow on the opposite side.

  “There…there…I see her…” Linnet was pointing excitedly at something on the other bank.

  “Good day, Mistresses. May we be of assistance?”

  Guy’s deep voice froze the two women who turned with identical expressions on their faces.

  Gilles felt his gut clench as the sunlight dappled across Linnet’s face. Their eyes clashed and he drew a breath. By the Saints, she was a beauty. The exercise had brought a flush to her cheeks and her breasts were heaving with exertion. He couldn’t suppress the thought that this was how she would look when they loved. And by God, they would love.

  He knew it all the way down to his toes.

  “‘Tis that damn…dratted ewe, Guy,” said Mechele, apparently busy drowning in Guy’s stare. “She manages to ford the river here and gets into that meadow where she has no right to be.”

  Guy’s eyes flickered briefly over Linnet, then returned to Mechele. “And that is a problem because…”

  “The field is full of clover.” Linnet spoke directly to Gilles. His heart settled into a steady, if accelerated, beat. She wanted him. She was all but ignoring Guy, and concentrating on him.

  The lines had been drawn and the opponents selected. It was very close to time for their loving joust to begin. He wrenched his thoughts from between Linnet’s thighs and managed to squeeze a few words past a parched throat. “Clover? That’s not good for sheep, is it?”

  “Certainly not,” snapped Mechele. “Too much g
razing and she’ll bloat, and she’s one of our best ewes. ‘Twould be a sad loss for our flock.”

  “Then we must see what we can do to help.” Gilles’ statement set both girls back slightly, as it was spoken with calm authority and confidence.

  “You two?” Mechele all but snorted in disbelief.

  Guy bridled at that. “Madam, we have tilled your fields, become closely acquainted with your livestock, especially that foul-tempered sow of yours, and even weeded your bloody garden. Surely the recapture of one sheep is within our abilities?”

  “Or perhaps you doubt our…abilities?”

  The hesitation was deliberate. Gilles wanted desperately to make Linnet aware of him as a man. Or increase her awareness as the case may be.

  His words seemed to do the trick, as the colour mounted on Linnet’s cheeks and she dropped her gaze.

  “We do not doubt either of you, Gilles. But a sheep is often hard to catch,” muttered Mechele, still looking fixedly at Guy.

  “Then let us show you how it should be done.”

  With those words, both Guy and Gilles strode to the edge of the waters and surveyed the stepping stones that would lead them to the other side and one misbehaving sheep.

  A loud bleat betrayed the runaway’s location, and Guy stepped unhesitatingly out onto the stones.

  Gilles was but a pace behind him.

  “Be careful,” called Mechele. “Those stones are very slip…”

  A loud curse and a huge splash interrupted her words, as Guy lost his footing and stumbled backwards, landing flat on his back in the mud of the slow flowing waters.

  “…pery.”

  A second later Gilles, unable to stop himself, fell face down alongside his friend.

  There was total silence for a few awed moments as Linnet and Mechele stood, stunned, looking at two soaked men, covered in mud, sprawled in their stream.

  Then the giggles began.

  Doing her best to keep a straight face, Linnet clamped her thighs together as the laughter built, unable to suppress the feeling that her bladder was going to let go at any moment if she didn’t release her mirth.