by Fiona Wilde
"I yield," he cried, and Justin reached down with a smile and helped him to his feet. The two men embraced to the cheers of their brothers and the assembled crowd, but Kier felt his face grow hot with shame under his helmet. Yet he congratulated his brother just the same and allowed Justin to lead the way up to the grandstand where he was to claim the bright blue jewel that Kier had assumed would be his for the taking.
It sat on a pillow and was presented by Lenora, the eldest, who glanced at Kier before addressing his brother.
"What a surprise," she said with contrived sweetness. "My sisters and I assumed your brother Kier would prevail, but as it turns out eldest - in the case of the sons of Randor - does not necessarily mean strongest."
"Indeed," said Fiona, jumping at the chance to exercise her powers of manipulation. "Can we assume that now the vanquished Kier will defer to you?"
"He is still the eldest," Justin said graciously.
"If not the superior jouster.." offered Luna.
"...or swordsman," intoned Lark, looking at her reflection in Justin's armour.
The other brothers looked from Kier to Justin in obvious discomfort.
The king stepped forward then, an amused smile on his face.
"Well, even Justin prevailed, it was over worthy opponents who accepted defeat with regal graciousness. On that we are all agreed."
"Are we?" asked Lenora, raising an elegant eyebrow before turning to thrust the pillow she held towards Justin.
"Go on. Take it, then," she said, indicating the bright blue jewel that sat upon it. "You earned it after all. And at least one of the princes of Randor should be able to leave our lands saying he won something."
The princesses tittered in laughter and their father shook his head in exasperation.
"It appears the days amusements are at an end," he said. "I find myself in need of rest and am sure my daughters feel the same. What do you say that we all take to our chambers until the heat of the day has passed."
"Wonderful idea, papa!" Lenora said and she and her sisters surrounded their father and walked off without acknowledging the brothers any further.
"Let's to our chambers as well." Kier turned and walked off with his brothers at his heels. Justin, who usually walked just behind the eldest brought up the rear now as he looked at his shiny prize before smiling and tucking it into his pocket.
In the princes' chamber, lunch was waiting. A whole stuffed goose, bowls of savory greens, piping hot bread and pots of butter lay spread out on the table along with tankards of ale and a dish of sweet pudding. For the famished brother, the sight of such bounty after the bruising competition drove all thoughts of the earlier tension from their minds.
But after their appetites had been slaked they realized they could not ignore their predicament.
"They are cleverer than we anticipated," Justin observed and Kier did not contradict him completely.
"Yes, he conceded. "But not as clever as we."
"No, not by half," added Quentin.
"Not by a quarter," offered Ivan.
"Even less, I'd say," said Leo, rubbing the arm still sore from his fall on the jousting field.
"So then why aren't we winning?" asked Justin.
Kier stood and began to pace. He felt extraordinary pressure now to come up with a plan to establish their mastery over the headstrong princesses once and for all. For the first time since hearing King Elgar's offer, he was truly worried. The old king had said the princes could have the princesses - and all the riches that came with marrying them - if they tamed them. But they were no closer to that than they'd been when they'd first laid eyes on the haughty quintet of beauties. If anything, they were further away.
"Strategy," Kier said. "Up to this point we've..."
"...done exactly as you said," Justin pointed out.
Kier stopped. "And what is that supposed to mean?"
Justin stood and walked over to where Kier stood. "Only what it does mean, brother. Your plans have failed. Perhaps it is time to consider other voices."
"Like yours?" Kier asked, his tone threatening.
"And why not?" asked Justin. "My strategy prevailed on the jousting field. Perhaps it would prevail in this castle."
"Strategy?" Kier sneered. "Luck was more like it, brother."
"You're allowing your battered pride to do the talking, Kier," Justin said, his eyes flashing a challenge. "Believe it luck if you must, and if that be so then can it be no worse than the game of chance you've played with the princesses?"
Kier flung himself at Justin before the second-born had a chance to defend himself and within moments the other brother had joined the fray and pulled the two fighting men apart.
As Ivan held Justin and Leo sought to hold Kier, Quentin jumped in between them.
"Is this what it's come to?" he yelled so loudly that both combatants stopped struggling. "Are we to let those wenches tear us apart?"
He looked from Kier to Justin in disgust. "If we do, then we not only don't deserve to be called sons of Randor, we don't even deserve to be called men."
Kier looked at the floor. "You're right, Quentin." And then he addressed Justin. "Forgive me, brother. I should learn to be more gracious in defeat. My loss today was no shame compared to the arrogance I displayed here."
He stepped back. "You earned the right to offer up a plan, as you are correct. Mine has failed."
Justin regarded his brother with suspicion, but when Kier remained properly humbled those suspicions waned. Convinced that the eldest was being sincere, he stepped forward and began to speak.
"It is apparent to me that the daughters of Elgar seek to pit us one against the other," Justin said. "After all, if we are fighting amongst ourselves we can hardly concentrate on the overall reason we came here - which is to tame and claim these women."
He paused. "They are right. Just look at us. Look at all of us. We all wanted to win today more than we admit, and losing causes resentment and a weakening in the chain of authority when we least need it."
"Kier," he said, turning to his brother. "Forgive my arrogance. And allow me to thank you now for giving me the chance to speak."
"No need to thank me," Kier said, honestly and humbly. "We all have a voice here, and we should all be heard. What is your plan, brother?"
Justin smiled conspiratorially. "To do to them what they would do to us. Separate them. Handle them individually. These princesses are like a nest of bees. They work together to sting. Separate them and they are easier to swat, if you catch my meaning."
Now the other brothers were smiling.
"Indeed," said Kier. "Right now I am sure they are in their chambers, congratulating themselves on what they've made of us today. They feed off of one another, these little minxes. A victory for one bolsters them all. But if we each take the princess to which we've been betrothed and acquaint her with the rule of thumb, how long can it be before we unite them as a collective of demure, properly chastened young ladies?"
"Not long, I'd wager," said Quentin with a smile as Ivan and Leo nodded in agreement. "Then we'll lead them to the altar as we'd lead a pack of docile she-hounds."
"Indeed," said Kier. "And once married, we'll fill their bellies with babies in short order, assuring not only that our legacies will be filled and they will be far too busy to cause us another moment's trouble."
"You!" Kier said, motioning to a nearby servant. "Tell the king that the sons of Randor request an audience with him. At once."
* * *
The king gave his blessing to the plan with a smile.
"I was wondering how long it would take you to figure out that they are more dangerous as a group," he said with a laugh and Kier was piqued at how much enjoyment the old monarch seemed to be taking in their frustrations.
"I would request that we separate them immediately," he said. "And while I know it is unconventional, I would ask that you grant us individual quarters and allow us to each sequester our betrothed until we've sufficiently schooled t
hem in what we expect."
"Highly improper, this request," the king said, stroking his beard.
"We give you our word that we will not dishonor them," Kier said. "Agreed, brothers?"
"Agreed," they all said in unison.
The king sighed. "Very well. I will tell them..."
"No," Kier said. "My brothers and I have discussed this and have decided that this is best done without warning. On your permission we will go to them now and tell them what has been decided. And remove them from one another."
"By force?" the king asked.
"If necessary," said Kier. "Of course, they will be given the option to come along obediently. If they choose not to do so, then there will be....consequences."
"Very well," King Elgar said, rising stiffly from his chair. "I'll order my servants to make available the five rooms next to the one you currently share in your wing. Will that suffice?"
"It will," Kier said.
"Good," said King Elgar. "Be about it, then. Only do me the favor of allowing time for me to retreat to my quarters in the far wing of my castle. I do not relish the sounds of irate females. Gives me such a headache, they do."
Two servants rushed forward to aid the old king on his way. As he departed, he turned and gave the princes a wink.
"Good luck," he said, with the clear implication being that they would very well need it.
But Kier and his brothers were undeterred. They had a new plan now, and with it came a renewed vigor and determination to gain dominance over the beautiful princesses.
The princes joined hands. "For victory," Kier said, and they all nodded in agreement.
The sons of Randor then mounted the stairs one after the other, eldest to youngest, with heads held high. Purpose was in their steps as they reached the landing to the princesses room, where a servant stood guard.
"The princesses do not wish to be dist..." she began, but Kier gently moved her aside and opened the door. And the princesses, who had been celebrating their victorious morning with a post-lunch nap leapt up at the intrusion with looks of sleepy anger.
"These are our private quarters!" Lenora informed them peevishly. "By what authority do you barge in on us midday?"
"By our own!" Kier said, walking over to take her by the arm. As he did, the room erupted in protest as each brother rushed forward to take his own betrothed in the same fashion.
"Unhand us!" Fiona commanded, pulling back against Justin.
"We plan to," Quentin said, "just as soon as we remove you to our private quarters."
"What?" cried Lark indignantly. "You can't be serious!"
"We most certainly are!" Kier said. "We've enough of your scheming ways and have decided that individual instruction is warranted for all of you."
"You mean to separate us?" Lenora asked disbelievingly and for the first time there was fear in her voice.
"Indeed we do," her betrothed said, feeling more self-assured by the moment.
"No!" Fiona exclaimed and then Justin cried out as the second-born daughter of Elgar leaned down and sunk her teeth into the prince's hand.
Justin cried out and pulled his hand away, his eyes falling on Kier as he did. He did not need to ask his brother what to do. Kier's expression said it all and Justin pulled Fiona over to the nearby chair and threw her across his knee. He did not spare her modesty as he lifted her skirts in front of her sisters and his brothers and when his hand fell in a hard smack across her little bottom her siblings cried out along with her as if they assault was on them as well.
They began to struggle to get to their sister, who was now wailing under Justin's punishing hand. Each brother now had his hands full of kicking, thrashing princess and quickly moved to follow the second-born's suit.
Now all found a seat and the five sons of Randor subjected the five daughter's of Elgar to joint punishment. The room soon filled with the sounds of smacking hands impacting firm royal bottoms as angry curses dissolved into plaintive wails.
The princes were not gentle with their royal charges. Kier, who had been keeping a tally of his betrothed's sins, spanked hardest of all, not even bothering to protect Leonora from the humiliation she experienced when the pantaloons she wore fell open in the back to reveal her round, rapidly reddening bottom. Instead he grew even more vigorous as he thashed those perfect globes while to his right Fiona continued to buck and cry across Justin's lap as he moved his efforts down to her creamy white thighs.
Angelica, who had begun her punishment with the dishonest and defiant insistence that it "didn't hurt" quickly became honest as she admitted it did indeed. She was begging for mercy now, her little fists pounding the rungs of the chair upon which Quentin sat.
Luna and Lark wailed loudest of all, for - being the youngest - they were the most pampered. Leo was moved by the Lark's pitiful pleas until Ivan shot him a look that warned he'd better make a good showing and so he gritted his teeth and spanked Lark even harder. He was shocked when her cries turned to curses, for the little minx had simply been trying to make him feel guilty. So he spanked her until her bottom was cherry red and he was sure the tears she shed were real.
It was many long minutes before the punishments ceased and the only sounds in the room were the genuine, pitiable wails of five very chastened princesses.
"On your feet!" Kier tipped Lenora up and the others helped their princess to standing as well. Then the five sons of Randor escorted the five princesses of Elgar from their suite and down to their individual rooms for what they believed would the course of training that would turn them into obedient and marriageable young ladies.
Chapter Four
Kier and Lenora
"This is your own fault, dear Princess Lenora." Prince Kier sat back in a chair, watching his unwilling companion try to open the door he'd locked behind him. "Were it not for your scheming ways then you'd be with your sisters right now."
Lenora turned. Her eyes were flashing and her color was high. Kier thought he'd never seen anything so beautiful in his entire life. He tried to keep himself from wondering if she was as passionate in lust as she was in anger.
"You sit there like the cat that caught the canary," she said, her voice measured in spite of her fury. "But you forget, my desperate, deposed prince. The battle is not won until you and your brothers have won my heart and the hearts of my sisters."
She smiled then. "You have succeeded in separating us from one another, but in he process you drive us further from yourselves as well."
It was a valid point, and Kier tried not to let the concern her words caused show on his handsome face.
"Even if we don't win your hands, we'll leave your father with five far more obedient daughters. That much I can guarantee. That partial victory will be better than no victory at all."
She laughed at this. "At least now you're being realistic enough to realize your chances of claiming our hands and my father's kingdom weaken but the moment."
Kier stood up and walked to the window.
"A shame, too," he said. "Your father's is a fine kingdom."
"Yes, the finest in the land," she agreed smugly.
"Tis a shame he doesn't respect you enough to allow you to lead it."
Now it was Lenora's turn to hide her emotions. It was a shame. More than a shame, in fact. It was a miscarriage of paternal responsibility. Yes, she knew she was headstrong and proud and haughty. But she was also smart and capable and savvy. Why could the land not have a Queen instead of a king.
"I suppose if we aren't suitable your father will have to search for some distant male cousin to suffice. Surely he'll find one. And you'll no doubt be given fine houses in the city with a view of the castle that was once your home."
Lenora wanted to dismiss his musings as manipulation, but she was a practical girl. And she knew his words hurt because they were true. There were male relatives waiting in the wings - impossible cousins once and twice removed. Lenora remembered them coming to visit in the summers; they were noisy and arrogant louts
who threw stones at the geese and flogged the ponies when they rode.
"I won't be manipulated," she said.
"Of course you won't. You're far too smart," Kier said. "I can see that, even if your father cannot." He sighed. "On the other hand, I'm not going to be manipulated either. I refuse to spend my days cooped up in these quarters simply because you're stubborn. I fancy a walk."
Prince Kier looked around. "I just need to find a suitable place to tie you up."
"Tie me up?" Her voice was incredulous. "Are you mad?"
"Well you can't expect me to just leave you unattended, do you? I'll have to tie you up." He lifted the chord that held the heavy velvet drape away from the window. I could cut this and use it. Unless..."
He looked at her. "Unless you'd like to walk with me. I've seen nothing but the inside of the castle since I've arrived. I'd love to see the vineyards, the stables, the pond..."
"I can show you, provided you trust me not to run off."
Kier smiled. "Will you?"
"It's a risk you'll have to take. You're the one who wants us to get married, not me. One would think you'd be happier assuring yourself of your future bride's trustworthiness before dragging her reluctantly to the altar."
"Good point." He held his arm out to her, but she scoffed.
"I think not," she said and moved to the door.
Behind her, Kier smiled. Had they actually had their first small, semi-civil conversation? It certainly felt that way. And with such a reluctant quarry he could only be encouraged by this development.
The weather was perfect for a walk. The castle gardens were planted with all manner of exotic trees, and the scent of flowers and fruit hung in the air. Peacocks strolled beneath the heavily laden trees, their plaintive cries hanging in the air.
"I played here daily when I was a girl," Lenora said. "My sisters and I used to play hide-and-seek and eat so many pomegranates and figs that we'd ruin our supper - and our dresses."
"It's beautiful here," Kier said. "Our gardens were never so grand."
