by Toni Sands
WOMAN OF POWER
Book One in the Knight Shades trilogy
An erotic novella by Toni Sands
Published by Xcite Books Ltd – 2012
ISBN 9781909335783
Copyright © Toni Sands 2012
The right of Toni Sands to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
The story contained within this book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be copied, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the publishers: Xcite Books, Suite 11769, 2nd Floor, 145-157 St John Street, London EC1V 4PY
Other titles in the series
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter One
The knight galloped across the wide expanse of grassland, his horse’s mane streaming as the startled beast outdistanced an enraged wild boar, left grunting and frustrated. Whispers of mist gathered like pearls in the horseman’s dark hair, the fragments swelling into swathes of dense vapour all around. Clutching the reins and leaning forward to croon soothing words, he gasped when the fog parted as though split by a sharp sword. Unable to stop, plunging into oblivion, his steed whinnied and reared. Faced with a yawning chasm, the horse leapt and soared into sunshine. Shouted oaths and anguished cries faded as mist swirled once more, filling the gap, concealing the portal leading to the unknown.
A dark-haired woman reclined upon a crimson velvet couch, gaze fixed on the flickering flames lighting up the massive stone fireplace. On a low table beside her, lying on a pool of black velvet, gleamed a perfect crystal globe. She stretched out a hand, her beringed fingers gleaming with gemstones set in precious metals. Picking up the crystal, taking care not to let her fingers blur its smooth hardness, she cradled it in one hand and watched as milky mist infused the shiny ball.
Patiently Sibilla waited. Hungry for what she sought, she murmured an incantation, ancient phrases emerging from her lips to fall into the silence like drops of blood on snow. Eyes closed, she concentrated all her will on achieving her wish.
‘He approaches with reluctance,’ she murmured at last, opening her eyes. ‘His strong character intrigues me. I have chosen well.’
There in the crystal a vivid picture shimmered and steadied. There in the crystal rode a proud knight on a perfect chestnut stallion. A small smile appeared on the woman of power’s lips. She saw inside the knight’s helmet and visor. She probed further, delving into his mind. Something caused her brow to furrow, yet she continued watching, drinking in the horseman’s potent masculinity as easily as she reached for a glass of wine and held the ruby liquid to her moist, warm lips.
Sibilla blew gently on the crystal, nodding her dark head as the picture blitzed into snowflakes. Dimmed. Faded to nothingness. She wrapped the black velvet snugly around the globe and replaced it on the table. The next phase of the noble knight’s journey was imminent.
Rising to her full, formidable height, she strode towards the hearth and tugged at a tasselled bell pull. Within the minute the door to the chamber opened and an elderly, bearded man entered the room. He walked with the poise of a trusted confidant.
‘Mistress?’
‘The knight is here, Ethan. You know what to do.’
Ethan’s shrewd grey eyes showed his understanding. He inclined his head. ‘And his name, mistress?’
Sibilla’s lips parted. She took a deep breath before speaking. ‘His name is Sir Gavin.’
She walked towards the narrow window slit in the heavily draped wall, the folds of her dark skirt settling around her long limbs. She peered through the aperture and watched the horse trot through the open gates, saw its rider look round him in puzzlement.
‘Let the game commence,’ she said.
Ethan turned sharply to look at the fireplace where the flames burned brighter, stronger than before. Tongues of red, orange, and yellow flared against flickers of blue, green, indigo, and violet.
‘The seven colours of the rainbow,’ he said.
‘Seven colours, seven knights. Our young friend must outdo one of the existing order in order to progress.’
Ethan sucked in a breath. ‘Overcome a Jupiter Knight? High stakes indeed. Is this young one worthy of the task?’
His mistress smiled at him. ‘For this one, I shall pledge body, mind, and soul.’ She threw back her head and laughed. ‘Such as it is. Now, go about your business. The young man dines with me tonight. Tomorrow he leaves for the stronghold of the Jupiter Knights.’
‘Shall I show him to the White Tower, mistress?’
Sibilla’s eyes gleamed. ‘You know me so well, Ethan.’ She smiled seductively at him. ‘You will be keeping an eye on proceedings?’
‘If that is your wish.’
She licked her lips. ‘Oh, but it is. Knowing you are watching from behind your favourite painting while I entertain this very special young man will add, shall we say, an extra spice to the act. You know that as well as I do, my friend.’
Ethan inclined his head. ‘I shall go at once and help the knight adjust to his new surroundings.’
Chapter Two
Gavin stroked his horse’s proud head, whispered sweet words into his ear, and patted his sleek rump, gazing anxiously after him as a fresh-faced blond page led loyal Sarum away. The knight was experiencing feelings of disorientation, but the arrival of the boy in scarlet tights and tabard, ready to attend to his horse, and now the elderly man introducing himself as Ethan, gave him confidence. A least it seemed likely he wouldn’t be thrown into a cell and left to fester for whatever reason.
He turned to the serious-faced man. ‘What next, Ethan? You tell me your mistress has summoned me. Dragged me from my world into one I neither recognise nor wish to inhabit. Who is this woman? Is she the one they call Sibilla? Have I really crossed some kind of barrier? How has this happened?’
‘All will be revealed, sir. Come with me, now. Your steed will be well cared for, as will you.’
Gavin fell into step with the older man. He sneaked a sideways glance at the craggy face. The facial skin not hidden by the pointed white beard shone with health, not one wrinkle marring the man’s countenance. Could this be magic at work? Over the years, he’d heard rumours centred round the enchantress Sibilla and her powers but nothing tangible. Had he unwittingly fallen into her trap simply by riding so fast into that treacherous mist? If so, what lay ahead? He clenched his fists at his sides, keeping silence as the elderly man led the way through a heavy, imposing door, studded with brass. This door swung open as the two men approached. Another page, this one dressed in bright green, bowed his head as they entered.
He looked around at the dark panels and plain wooden floor. Paintings adorning the walls contained scenes of amorous couplings and his eyes widened, darting from bared shoulder to thigh to breast to groin. Whoever this woman was, Sibilla or some other siren, she had a taste for erotic art th
e like of which Gavin had never before encountered. Despite his irritation at being waylaid like this, he couldn’t resist sneaking peeps at the scenes lining the wall to his left as he followed Ethan up the dark wooden staircase. The higher they climbed, the more daring and colourful were the sexual exploits depicted. Tiny cherubs cavorted beside rivers and under trees. A series of landscapes showed naked maidens first fleeing from bearded satyrs then being caught. Coaxed. Kissed. Fingered into submission. Gavin’s mind, aflame with scenes of carnal desire, wondered with more and more urgency what lay ahead of him.
At the top, Ethan turned to the left. The corridor appeared to form a complete circle, but soon he opened one of the doors and beckoned Gavin inside. The knight entered, finding himself inside a round chamber. Walking to the window, he looked down at the courtyard and realised he was in one of the four towers he’d spied from below. Servants hurried or dawdled across the flagstones. Two of them stood beside the ornate fountain, the girl’s back rammed against the stone surround, her skirts bunched around her thighs as her curly-haired male companion thrust in and out of her.
Gavin swallowed. Hard. His arousal shocked him with its speediness. Into what kind of mayhem had he been catapulted? Such blatancy unnerved him. Yet the couple’s moans and grunts of pleasure drifted through the small, round opening in the wall of the tower and the ache in his loins intensified, making the knight catch his breath. Grit his teeth. Clench his fists.
‘This is where you will sleep. I suggest you remove your clothing then wash yourself and put on the garments made ready for you. Would you like me to send a page to assist you?’
‘No! Certainly not.’ Gavin turned round hurriedly, grasping for his innate good manners. Biting back a desire to point out what was happening below, he said, ‘I mean, no, thank you, Ethan. I’m grateful for the offer, but is all this palaver really necessary?’
Ethan’s smile was slow, knowing. ‘Yes. Now, make haste. On my return, I shall expect to find you ready.’
No sooner had the man left the room than Gavin looked again, unable to resist another peep at what the couple were up to down in the courtyard. The girl, arching her back, offering her soft white neck to her companion, was taking in the tidy weapon he’d inserted between her lips, kneeling before him as he moved his body gently but deliberately, his face contorted as if desperate for release yet enjoying himself too much to allow it.
‘Zeus’ bollocks but those two are driving me to distraction,’ muttered Gavin. Highly aroused, eyes fixed on the scene below, he stripped off his clothes. Took his erect cock in the fingers of one hand while pushing two fingers of the other in and out of his mouth, imagining himself pushing inside the soft, welcoming folds between the girl’s thighs.
He hadn’t felt so horny since he’d lusted after one of his family’s serving wenches. He’d carried out this same action, though not as expertly, while watching her wash herself at the pump in his father’s courtyard. On that occasion he’d quickly climaxed, crying out so she heard him. She’d sought him out later that day and initiated him. Now he smelled again the scent of the hayloft where it had happened.
Gavin needed to lessen the anguish between his thighs. Quickly. His manhood felt good. Felt smooth and strong under his fingers as they stroked and coaxed. Massaging, squeezing and straining, speeding up his actions in tune with the male servant below, he ceased with a grunt of pure pleasure at the point of success.
Left light-headed, he turned away from the scene of temptation and washed his face, his hands, and his man parts with water from the pitcher awaiting him. He dried himself on lavender-scented linen as quickly as he could, praying Ethan wouldn’t return too soon. From the little he knew of this place, it might be the old man hoped for knightly courteousness to extend to a favour Gavin wasn’t inclined to bestow.
He smiled to himself, recalling some of the antics he and his fellow knights had got up to with their pages. But that belonged to another time. Another place. Now he needed to find out how to remove himself from the clutches of the wily old bat he anticipated meeting.
On Ethan’s return, Gavin was ready for him. He’d changed into a dark blue tunic and dark blue leggings tucked into tawny calfskin boots. His glossy black curls tidied, he looked the picture of propriety. He was not to know the older man had observed the naked knight’s very private act of pleasuring. Observed and approved. Unwittingly, this young gentleman had proved himself to be the perfect pawn for the game the mistress took so much delight in playing.
When Ethan knocked on a door at the other side of the stairwell, a low voice called, ‘Enter.’
Ethan pulled open the door and motioned to Gavin to walk forward. The door closed behind him as he did so, leaving him alone in the presence of what he perceived as a formidable enemy. The atmosphere of this room seemed to enfold him in warmth and perfume, lulling him like silken whispers, seducing his senses wherever his gaze wandered. The room seemed awash with music and laughter yet, in the dim light, it appeared no one waited there but shadows. Until a figure rose from a chair placed near the fireplace.
The woman walking towards him commanded respect in every way. Her height, her exotic colouring, her bearing and finally her voice – the kind of voice to calm and cajole a man into submission. Gavin’s eyes travelled the length of this female from the crown of her head, which rivalled his own with its raven darkness, to the toes of her black velvet slippers. Her sumptuous burgundy brocade gown was cunningly tailored to show the shape of the woman beneath. The swell of her plump, creamy breasts spilling over her low neckline drew Gavin’s reluctant gaze. Her smooth, unlined countenance could have been the face of an innocent 18-year-old or a world-weary 60-year-old. He didn’t know which. And that seemed eerie.
How could she possibly have reached her seventh decade without displaying signs of ageing on her body? And how did Ethan retain that smooth skin? The backs of the fellow’s hands weren’t like those of an old stager. A shiver ran down Gavin’s spine. Instinctively he wanted to reach for his sword but there would be no point in slaying this woman. How would he return to his own world then? Presupposing he escaped capture and instant death at the hands of her henchmen.
‘A wise decision,’ said his hostess, extending a shapely hand laden with jewelled rings. ‘There’s only one way for Sibilla to be slain and it’s not by the sword, Sir Gavin.’ She shot him a sly glance. ‘Why pretend surprise? You must know something of my powers.’
She glided across the room to a low settee, settling herself down. ‘Welcome to Arcandos. Now, come. Sit beside me. Take some refreshment.’
Gavin made no move. ‘If I obey, will you explain the reason why you’ve brought me here, Mistress Sibilla?’
She poured honey-dark liquid from a tall jug into two pewter goblets. ‘There’s no question that you will obey, my lord knight. Refusal will only prompt me to use my more sinister powers upon you.’
She was probably bluffing, but Gavin decided to opt for safety, though this place was hardly the most comfortable one he’d set foot in. He moved forward, slid his sword from its scabbard, and laid down the weapon on the floor before taking his place beside the enigmatic woman. He picked up his goblet and drank deeply.
‘Better,’ she said. ‘And make no mistake. I may have brought you here by magic means, but you came because something in your psyche beleaguers you. There’s a delicious dark side to you that demands release, my lovely young Gavin. I intend catapulting you into a series of adventures the likes of which your wildest imaginings could never take you on.’
Chapter Three
How could such a goddess of beauty say such an outrageous thing? The delicious infusion of alcohol and herbs she’d plied him with sent waves of warmth rolling and lapping into every part of his body. Sibilla’s sweet, musky perfume, the nearness of her opulent curves, elegant, arching neck, and full, sensuous mouth fast became the only thing in the world he cared about.
He didn’t want this to be so but the titillating scene at the fountain
provided by those horny young servants had opened a conduit helped now by the liquor. Gavin, who’d hurtled across the crystal cleft on his way home from months of foreign travel, was a young man starved of sensuous pleasures. His appetite for love, stimulated to such a degree, craved feeding. How could he have feared what this woman might do to him? Such a beautiful, desirable creature needed to be conquered by passion. He wanted to hear her whimper for his caresses. She needed him as much as he needed her. Why not live for the moment, and to hell with the consequences?
Gavin took another swallow of wine. Then another. Sibilla’s hand was on his knee. He lay back against the cushions, relishing the feel of her fingers travelling oh so lightly upwards. Sliding over his thigh. Alighting upon his groin. Rubbing the bulge beneath the soft fabric of his pants, a fine worsted cloth he welcomed after the relentless pressure of chainmail against his flesh.
He pulled her onto his lap, the drained goblet falling to the floor and rolling away from his feet. Sibilla hauled herself up, straddling him so her breasts were level with his mouth. He raised his hands to the lacings of her bodice. Began unravelling the crisscrossed ribbons, loosening the brocade front. Revealing bare, responsive twin globes beneath, their aroused nipples pinkish-brown as the frills of a field mushroom.
He sucked at her. She chafed at him. Her nipples swelled under the ministrations of his lips, tongue, and teeth. His cock leapt to the demands made by her pelvic bone as she rode him, grinding herself against him, skirt hiked up so he could move his hands beneath it to cup the delicious mounds of her bum. Again, an image of the couple fucking beside the fountain drifted into his mind, exciting him until he could stand no more.
