by Morgan Henry
“I beg to differ, but I’ll not pick a fight right now,” he responded with a smile at her.
He rolled slightly off her to the side and pulled the covers over the two of them. He continued to lightly caress her soft skin, enjoying the silky texture and the continued contact with her.
“We should sleep,” he said as he kissed her shoulder, unable to keep his lips off her soft skin.
* * * *
Aenid was practically limp after Merrin had given her pleasure. His fingers and mouth had made her come much harder that any experiments with her own hand ever had. She now understood a little better why people were so enthusiastic about sexual pleasure. She wanted to give some of that intense pleasure back to Merrin.
“I thought you said I could touch you,” she said in response to his suggestion of sleep.
Aenid saw Merrin’s eyes widen in surprise. She could feel herself blushing with her request but she badly wanted to please him the way he had pleasured her.
“So I did,” he said drawing the words out slightly.
Aenid moistened her lips and swallowed. “Would you show me how…” she trailed off. She had never before touched a man to give him pleasure. Again, she knew the basic idea of masturbation and fellatio, but she hadn’t the practical experience, and she was nervous.
“I would be happy to show you,” Merrin said, delight evident in his eyes.
She watched him shimmy out of his sleep pants, revealing a beautiful man. He lay on the bed on his back, his arms folded under his head, seeming completely at ease. His body was all hard planes of muscles that flexed as he moved. The smattering of hair over his chest trailed down his belly and led to a large penis. It was long and thick, the head a deep red color, and a small amount of fluid dripped from the slit at the tip. It was heavily veined and bobbing slightly with the beat of his heart. His cock nestled in a tidy thatch of black curls. His balls were heavy and swung slightly with his movement. Aenid’s fingers were almost twitching in their eagerness to touch him.
She hesitantly reached out a hand and caressed his chest. When he didn’t move away, she became bolder, running her fingers through his chest hair and touching his nipples. He gave a rumble of pleasure.
She continued to caress him lightly, over his shoulders, arms, down over his abdomen. She was fascinated at the contrast of his crisp hair, soft skin and stone-like muscle. She became bolder, stroking his flesh more firmly as she became more confident.
“You can go further,” Merrin encouraged her. He sounded a little strained.
Aenid mashed her lips together and ran a finger down the length of his cock. It felt like someone had covered metal with the softest velvet they could find. She went further and touched his balls. They were firm and slipped around easily in their sac. She fondled them and Merrin groaned aloud. “So hard and so soft,” she said, wonder in her voice. “I like touching you.”
He reached down and took her hand in his. He wrapped it around his dick and grasped himself firmly. “Let me show you,” he murmured as he started to pump his rigid erection. He used his pre-cum to lubricate her little hand and fisted himself harder and faster.
Aenid caught on quickly, learning the rhythm and how tight he liked her hand on his cock. She was amazed at the slickness the pre-cum generated. Merrin’s breathing had become moaning, urging her on as she worked his penis in her hand. She suddenly felt powerful, that she could give him this, that she could return the pleasure he had given her.
“So good,” he groaned, and his hips pumped his cock into her hand then his rhythm faltered. Cum spurted from the tip of his shaft and she could feel his cock pulsing in her hand. She saw that his eyes were closed in pleasure as he exhaled softly and heavily.
He opened his eyes and looked at her then, giving her a smile that could only be described as satiated. “Thank you, sweet. That was exquisite.” He eased her hand off his softening cock. “I should clean us up,” he said, getting up and going over to the washstand and getting a cloth.
“Should I have used, ah, my mouth?” Aenid asked as he cleaned her hand.
Merrin gasped at that. “Maybe not the first time,” he said, lips twitching in a smile as he cleaned himself.
He crawled back into bed, pulling her against his body, her back to his front. It felt so good to lie in his arms. There she was warm, safe, and she felt cherished. The last thing she heard as she drifted off was Merrin’s command to sleep and that he would look after her.
Chapter 12
Before the sun had risen the next day, Aenid, Merrin, and Arto met again in her study, this time drinking coffee instead of brandy. Merrin had tried to leave Aenid sleeping in his bed. He had whispered his plan into her ear, not wanting her to rise. He wanted come back to her and enjoy her lovely softness again. She had refused and went to her own room. He had to smile at her attempt to preserve the fiction that they had spent the night separately. The entire staff would know they were together and it wouldn’t bother anyone. It didn’t matter. The servants were loyal and wouldn’t embarrass their Baroness.
“I’ve had some reports of theft in the eastern parts of the holding that I’m concerned about,” Aenid started. “There are some fairly large amounts of grain, dried beans, and other foodstuffs that have gone missing. Normally we have very little thievery. I wonder if it could be Torquin soldiers stealing it.”
“Normally, I’d say soldiers would steal as they sacked a village, but your villages are unharmed. However, in this case, they may have orders to stay out of sight. You could be right,” Merrin mused. “Show us where the thefts occurred on the map.”
Aenid pointed out the towns where the missing foodstuffs were. All were near or on the border with Torquin. If they were dated, they were in a line heading toward Dyfal.
“Well, that’s certainly more than a little suspicious,” Arto said as he frowned at the map. “I’ll head to Bridgend to muster our troops and head along the border to meet you here in three days time.” He pointed to a larger village just inside the border between Clawynd and Bridgend.
“We’ll be there,” Aenid promised.
“I’ll be there, you’ll be here,” Merrin stated.
“Absolutely not,” responded Aenid. “If I am going to ask my knights and guards to fight for Kerban, then I will be there with them, not hiding here. Besides, if we are to fight, you will need Healers. It is my duty as a Healer to help with injuries.” She stuck out her chin, eyes blazing. “If you think about it, I have two reasons to go, and you only have one. Three actually, because if you think for one second that I will allow another one of those collars into Kerban, you had better think again.”
Arto laughed. “She’s got you there, brother.”
Merrin shot him a nasty look. “Her safety is my responsibility,” he said, growling a little.
“And what of the safety of your men?” fired back Aenid. “Do they not deserve a powerful Healer at their side?”
“I say take her with you and then you can keep an eye on her. And she is right, eventually someone will need a Healer,” Arto agreed.
Merrin grunted. “I’ll think about it,” he said grudgingly. “Don’t push me,” he warned as Aenid opened her mouth to argue more.
Aenid didn’t argue further, but the look in her eyes said she wasn’t done with him.
“We have some planning to do before I leave,” Arto stated, smoothly diverting the two from their argument.
The next hour was spent planning movement of men and supplies, deciding where to investigate and in what order. They also set up messenger schedules so they could communicate with each other. By the time breakfast was served, their planning was more or less done.
The day dawned sunny but cool. It was clear that fall was underway. It was no time to start waging a war. The ravages of winter with its freezing temperatures and wet weather would fell an army quicker than a fight. Dyfal would know this, that’s why he was smuggling troops from Torquin into his keep before winter. Then he could mount a fresh c
ampaign in spring and get a head start against Kerban’s defenses.
Duke Arto headed out for Bridgend as soon as breakfast was done. Merrin saw Aenid slip back into her study after Arto left. He followed her in, wondering what work she was up to now.
“I’ll go out and start checking the men shortly,” he said. “Tanis has provisions well in hand for us.”
“Oh?” Aenid queried frostily. “Have you come to a decision then on whether you think I’ll be joining you on the campaign through my lands with my men?”
“Yes, you’ll be coming,” Merrin informed her crisply. “But you’ll excuse me for not wanting you in danger. I care for you and war, even small skirmishes, is not pretty and no place for you.”
“I realize that war isn’t pretty, but it is my place. If I were a man, you wouldn’t be so quick to dismiss me from joining you.” There was an angry blush on Aenid’s cheeks.
“If you were a man, you would have been trained in warfare, and more importantly, in how to protect yourself. You’d have armor and be wearing it. And you’d likely have had some battle experience by now.” Merrin found it hard to believe that Aenid couldn’t see this. Why couldn’t she realize that it was his duty to protect her? She was a woman for pity’s sake, not meant to sleep on the ground and travel in the cold.
“Well, I don’t have the training but feel free to put me in armor,” she retorted. “It doesn’t change the fact that this is my responsibility and you don’t respect me enough to believe I can do it.”
“I do respect you—”
“Then let me do my duty!” she shouted.
“Damn it, woman! Your duty isn’t to fight battles!”
“Not to fight, but it is my right to lead, to care for my people, to protect Kerban, to heal the injured. Hiding in the manor is not acceptable,” she pleaded.
“You’re coming with us, if only so I can keep a close eye on you. Be satisfied with that.” Merrin’s knew he sounded gruff but couldn’t bring himself to be happy that Aenid was putting herself in harm’s way.
“Be satisfied that you only want to allow me to be Baroness when convenient for you? Otherwise I should just sit at home and be pretty? You’ll excuse me if I’m less than satisfied.” Aenid’s voice was harsh.
“That is not what I’m saying and you know it, you’re just too angry right now to realize it.” Merrin tried to make his voice sound reasonable.
“I’m not angry, I’m very disappointed in you. I thought you respected me more. If I had known you didn’t think me able to fulfill my responsibilities, I wouldn’t have—” She stopped.
Merrin’s eyes dilated as a surge of anger went through him. He crossed the space between them and gripped her arms firmly. “Don’t,” he said firmly. “Don’t deny that there is something between us. I do respect you and your abilities. I do think you will be an exceptional Baroness and that your father would be very proud of you. But I do want to protect you, that’s part of who I am. Get used to it, for I intend to protect you for a very long time.” He pulled her forward and kissed her lips hard, taking her mouth with a bruising urgency. When he had taken his fill of her soft mouth, he broke the kiss and strode out of the room.
He had to leave before he said something he really regretted. Damn it, he needed to see her protected as much as he needed to breathe. It was his nature and had been since he was young.
He clearly remembered when it had become apparent to him that he was a protector, that protection was his calling in life.
His mother had sent him to the village on an errand for her. He was young, only about eleven years old, and it was exciting to be allowed to ride to the village on his pony and be trusted to complete the errand and return on his own.
He had his mother’s coin and a bit of his own to spend in the village. It made him feel very mature to have his own money to spend. He had no idea what he might buy, but was looking forward to exploring some of the village shops.
As he entered the village he could hear the shouts of some children. He looked over in the alley at them and was shocked to find two boys his own age tormenting a younger girl. Her dressed was smudged with dirt, her hair was messed, and her palms and knees were scraped and bleeding. As he watched the largest boy tripped her and she hit her head on the ground when she fell.
Merrin jumped off his pony and charged over to the group. “What is going on here?” he shouted as he helped the little girl to her feet.
“She’s a Torquin spy!” the smallest bully exclaimed.
The pale little girl shook with fear beside him. “Are you crazy? She’s a little girl,” Merrin scoffed at the boys. His position gave him a little sway over the village boys.
“Her mother is a Torquin whore! They both should be sent back where they belong,” the largest bully sneered.
Merrin suddenly understood. There was a woman in the village that had escaped from Torquin. She was married to a tailor and did fine embroidery for their business. His mother was fond of her work. The girl’s mother was a quiet and kind woman and had made her husband very happy.
“You fool!” he admonished the bully. “She escaped from Torquin because they treat their women worse than their dogs. She would never go back or betray anyone here. And her daughter is Kerban. She was born here and is as much of this country as you and I. Go home and don’t let me hear of you bullying anyone else again. You should be ashamed of yourself.”
“The Torquins are bad. She shouldn’t be here,” the bully insisted.
“How many times do you have to hear it? They are both citizens of Kerban now. They deserve our protection and will get it. If you ever want to make anything of yourself, you will figure that out. Now get out of here!” This last he roared at the bullies and, cowards that they were, they fled.
Merrin turned to the little girl who was still shaking beside him. He bent over and picked her up. “I’ll look after you,” he said gently. “Let’s go get those scrapes looked after.” He placed her on his pony and stared to lead them away. He was impressed that the little sprite wasn’t crying.
“Your name is Ama, isn’t it?” he queried. At her nod, he went on. “My mother likes your mother’s embroidery. Mother says she does the finest work in Bridgend.” He continued to chat about nothing as they covered the short distance to the Healer Hall. Ama remained silent, but she stopped shaking.
The Healer on duty took little time to heal her minor injuries and one of the assistants whisked Ama away to get cleaned up.
Merrin went over and thanked the Healer. “Is this enough for payment, Sir?” he asked as he removed a couple of coins from his belt pouch.
The Healer gestured to Merrin to have a seat at the small table in the room. The Healer sat on the other side. “One is enough,” he said as he pushed the other coin toward Merrin. “Ama told me about what happened,” he went on. “I’m impressed with your actions, young man. I don’t really need payment for such minor injuries, but you were right to bring her here. She might have been hurt worse, and it not been terribly apparent.”
The Healer reached into his own belt pouch and pulled out a coin of his own and placed it on the table. “In respect for your actions, I propose we take these two coins and place them in the fund we keep for those whom payment for Healer services would be a true hardship. Is that satisfactory to you?”
“Yes, Sir.” Merrin smiled at the Healer. Merrin could not have accepted free care from Healer Hall, his honor would not have allowed it. Nor would he have Ama’s family pay. “Thank you for helping her.”
The Healer stood. “You are most welcome,” he said as he left and carried on with his duties.
Ama was returned to Merrin’s care with her face and hands cleaned, her hair re-braided, and the dust brushed from her dress. She was smiling at him and looked much better. She was bubbling over with her thanks to him.
“Let’s get you home,” he said. “Your mother will be worried.”
“I can walk, Sir,” she offered in her sweet little voice.
<
br /> “But then my pony wouldn’t have the pleasure of carrying a pretty girl instead of plain old me,” he cajoled her.
She giggled and he placed her on the pony and walked her home. Her mother came out as he helped her off the little mount. Ama leapt into her mother’s arms, and Merrin spoke to her father, giving him a brief account of the matter and assuring the man that Healer Hall had been compensated. He then completed the errand for his mother and headed back to the castle.
When he delivered his mother’s package to her, he was much later than he should have been.
“Merrin!” she exclaimed as he entered her sitting room. “You’ve made me quiet worried. I expected you an hour ago. What on earth have you been up to? Not getting into mischief, I hope.” She had turned in her chair to face him, a little frown on her brow at his tardiness.
He apologized for being late. “I’m sorry, Mama, but you would approve why I was delayed I think,” he said as he kissed her cheek in greeting.
“Oh? Well you must tell me the story then,” she said as she gestured for him to sit and he took the chair opposite her.
His mother let Merrin tell his tale without interruption. At the end, she praised him for standing up for little Ama.
“It was more than duty,” Merrin said to her slowly. “It felt right somehow. Like it was what I was born to do, protect others. Does that make sense?”
“Maybe it is what the god and goddess intend for you. If so, you’re blessed to know their plan for you this early in life. I’m pleased for you, my dear boy.” His mother had smiled at him and his heart swelled with pride.
His father had pulled him aside later and hugged him as he gruffly told Merrin he had done well.
Merrin had truly felt like something had come together inside him that day. He knew that he was meant to protect Kerban, and now he would protect Aenid, too.
Chapter 13
Shortly thereafter found Merrin assisting in the final organization of the additional knights and guards that had answered Aenid’s call. Aenid was there as well, greeting her knights and going over their plans. She was dressed in riding garb for their journey. She had on a sturdy burgundy gown with split skirts, leather riding boots and gloves, and a warm cloak with the Clawynd insignia stitched on the lapel. Her glossy dark hair was pulled back in a braid and she had on a small gold circlet. She was every inch the baroness of Clawynd.
