Pillaging Elinor's Castle [Elinor's Stronghold 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

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Pillaging Elinor's Castle [Elinor's Stronghold 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 5

by Berengaria Brown


  She scooped a tiny serving of berries onto a piece of hard bread and handed it to him. “Well done, child. You delivered the message just right. Does Wade have any more information to tell me about the lady and her guards?”

  “John will come to tell you when someone identifies their banner. It’s red and gold, but Wade said half the kingdom has red and gold on their banners.” The child spoke with his mouth half full of bread and berries.

  She nodded, and he ran off. Aunt Heloise had evidently heard him call, as she arrived then. “I’ll watch the pot for you. You’d best change your gown and re-braid your hair before they arrive,” she said practically.

  “Thank you, aunt.” Elinor hurried up to her solar, changing into her tidy blue gown and brushing her hair before tying a pretty blue ribbon to the end of her braid. Guests were frequent, but it was almost always men to speak with Lord Rhys. A lady was something special indeed. She looked forward to having a long talk with her, while the lady’s husband or father spoke with her lord.

  No messenger delivered further information about the coming guest, but noises in the courtyard told her they’d arrived. Byram had sent messengers to fetch Hammond and Lord Rhys, and the servants had hurriedly prepared food and drink for the guests.

  Rhys and Hammond entered, both of them flicking water off their heads and hands, from the back of the house, at the same time as Wade and half a dozen children escorted the lady and her guards in the front door from the courtyard.

  “Rhyannon!” exclaimed Rhys.

  Elinor knew that name. But in what context?

  The large man standing close beside Rhyannon bowed. “Lord Rhys, it is my sad duty to inform you your Uncle Bennet has died.”

  “And you are?”

  “My apologies, my lord. I am Alistair, son of Lord Alistair of the Green Mountain, and protector of the Lady Rhyannon.”

  “Alistair and Ebert chose to escort me here, rather than serve my cousin. Rhys, he said I either had to marry him or leave. So I left.”

  “The church does allow cousins to marry,” said Elinor slowly.

  “Yes, and look what happens. Their children are all born dead. Besides, my cousin is an old man and dribbles into his beard. He’s disgusting.”

  Elinor hid a smile and clapped her hands loudly for the servants to bring the food into the great hall.

  Wade took Ebert to a lower bench and, still surrounded by children, began asking him questions. Rhys and Hammond were doing much the same with Alistair. So Elinor smiled at Rhyannon and said, “Tell me all your news.”

  Rhyannon took her seriously and began at the very beginning. “My mother died when I was five. I was their only child. Rhys’s father and my mother were brother and sister.”

  Elinor nodded. It was coming back to her now. Her own mother had explained this genealogy at some time, quite possibly when her father and Rhys’s were considering them marrying.

  “My father married three more times. Each time, his wife died without them having any child at all, much less a son. My father blamed them all for being frail and sickly, unworthy of him, but with so many wives and no child, it seems to me the fault lay with him. However that may be, my cousin Coll, the son of my father’s older brother, inherited the land.”

  Rhyannon’s eyes were the same dark-brown as Rhys’s, her pretty face as round and comely as his, too, but now it creased in a frown. “Coll said he’s inherited everything, but I kept my mother’s jewels. My father never gave them to any of his other wives, so they are mine,” she said fiercely.

  Elinor nodded and passed her a plate of tiny cakes, fresh baked that morning.

  Rhyannon popped one in her mouth and smiled again.

  “When he said I was to marry him or leave, I had Ebert put my chest of possessions on the back of a mule and bade him farewell. I told him I was coming here, and he said, ‘Good riddance.’”

  Rhyannon’s voice expressed a mixture of hurt but also determination.

  “And Lord Alistair?” asked Elinor.

  “He’s not a lord. His father is, but for some reason, although he’s the oldest son, he isn’t a lord. I love him anyway, and he chose to come with me. As did Ebert.”

  “You are welcome here. Your home shall be with us for as long as you wish it to be,” said Elinor sincerely, but carefully avoiding the topic of Alistair. That would be for Rhys to decide, although she was sure he and Hammond would welcome two more fighting men. However, a husband was slightly different. At least Rhyannon had a dowry in her mother’s jewels. Every woman needed something to bring to the marriage to demonstrate her status.

  Rhyannon began asking questions about Rhys’s demesne, and the castle and stronghold, and they enjoyed themselves for some time, until Elinor noticed the light was fading and jumped up to ensure arrangements for her guests’ comfort had been made.

  * * * *

  The next day, Rhys took four of the guards hunting for deer, along with a handful of peasants to act as beaters, and Alistair who’d asked to go with them. Elinor walked with Rhyannon around the castle itself, then out into the grounds. They stopped at the field that led to the river, and Elinor noticed two or three older boys splashing and playing in the water.

  At that moment, she knew another way to protect her people. Very few people could swim. In particular, soldiers in armor never entered water as the heavy armor made them sink. If people crossed a river, they were almost certainly safe from pursuit, at least until the pursuer could find a bridge or a ford and take up the chase.

  In the case of her people, it would give them time to get to the castle. If, instead of trying to run away or hide, they ran directly to the river, they could swim across and then walk to the castle, certain to arrive before the pursuing solders. As long as enough of them could be taught to swim. Surely swimming was not too hard to learn.

  Catching Rhyannon’s hand, she said, “Let’s go down to the river.”

  Arriving there, Elinor asked the boys, “Can any of you swim. Truly swim?”

  The smallest one stood straight and proud before her. “I can. My father taught me.”

  “Can you show me please?”

  He splashed into the water and made his way across the river. It wasn’t really so very wide, she supposed. She doubted if a man could throw his weapon from one side to the other, but a bowman would easily shoot that far and much, much farther.

  So if her people were chased by archers, they’d be better off to hide. But if pursued only by soldiers, especially ones in armor, swimming was a solution.

  She thanked the children and turned to walk back to the castle.

  “Whatever are you thinking, Lady Elinor?”

  “Lord Jeffrey is likely to attack my stronghold. He lost some of his supplies in the fire he set burning on Rhys’s manor, and my castle is well supplied. But if he attacks the peasants in their hamlets, unless they can escape to the castle, they’ll be in great danger.”

  “But how can you help them? There isn’t enough time to build a palisade around every tiny hamlet,” asked Rhyannon.

  “And Lord Jeffrey had no trouble climbing the large palisade around Rhys’s demesne anyway. I think the river may offer some protection for the people.”

  “But if you build bridges, the soldiers will cross, too. How will the people know when to destroy the bridges?”

  “They shall learn to swim. We’ll all learn to swim. Just enough to cross the river. No soldier in armor will follow the people into the river.”

  “Swim? Like the children?”

  “Exactly. If children can learn, how hard can it be?” Elinor laughed.

  Hammond and Rhys proved harder to convince, but surprisingly, Albin and Wade jumped on the idea.

  “Many of our boys learn to swim, at least to some extent. But once they grow up, they put aside such childish pastimes. Enough of the men will be able to teach their wives and children,” said Wade.

  “But if everyone can swim, doesn’t that mean as a defense it’s useless?” asked A
listair.

  “Can you swim, lord?” asked Wade.

  Alistair shook his head.

  “That is your answer. It is distinct to this valley here. Lady Elinor’s river never runs dry, even in midsummer. Many rivers don’t flow in the hottest weather, and it’s during the hot weather when boys decide to swim. Lord Jeffrey’s men are not from around here, and when they attack, they’ll be wearing armor anyway.”

  “They must all learn to swim wearing their clothes,” said Elinor suddenly.

  “Modesty, at a time like this?” asked Rhys with a grin.

  “No, practicality. If they’re fleeing, they won’t have time to get undressed,” she replied.

  “Of course.” He nodded.

  * * * *

  Elinor’s days had always been busy, but now they were busier than ever before. Gathered wood was piled high against the walls of the barns, nuts, berries, and edible grasses and fungi were collected and stored in her cellar, and the earliest fruits had been picked and carefully arranged so they didn’t touch each other in long rows on her cellar shelves.

  Most nights both Hammond and Rhys came to her bed. Sometimes Hammond had guard duties that couldn’t be avoided, or Rhys and Hammond needed to stay in the great hall talking with visitors, but usually they all lay in bed together.

  Elinor greatly enjoyed the pleasures of the bed. Whether they were plowing her mouth, her ass, or her cunt, lying down, sitting, or standing up, they always gave her pleasure. Over the past months, both Hammond and Rhys had learned which places she liked having touched, and what aroused her fastest, and they were dedicated to using their knowledge to give her pleasure far greater than she’d known before her marriage.

  But she needed to become pregnant, needed a child, an heir. A son by Rhys would be the best possible outcome, but any child, girl or boy, fathered by Rhys or Hammond, would be an heir to the stronghold and would give them more security. Many children died, but once she’d birthed a child, the world would know there’d be more children and that, if this one died, the succession would still be ensured.

  That night, after they’d made love and were resting in each other’s arms, the men were discussing why Alistair was not a lord.

  “There can only be two reasons. Either he will become a lord only on his father’s death, or else he’s illegitimate, recognized as his father’s son, but not able to inherit,” said Rhys.

  “So at the moment, he’s not a suitable husband for Rhyannon, even though she loves him and he seems to love her,” sighed Elinor.

  “Not only that, but if he inherits the title and honor on his father’s death, he’ll have to return to his father’s lands, and from what he’s said, that is not something he will ever do willingly,” added Hammond.

  “Do you think she’s still a virgin? Should I tell Father Augustus to marry them soon, anyway?” asked Rhys, worry threading through his tone of voice.

  “She’s been to Court several times, with two of her father’s wives. I’m sure the ladies there will have told her things to do to ensure her honor is maintained,” said Elinor.

  “Good.” Rhys’s voice was filled with relief.

  Elinor knew he’d much rather find Rhyannon an appropriate match and was already mentally running through the nobles in the valley, looking for prospective candidates. No woman could expect to marry for love. Marriage was an alliance of lands and wealth. But affection, if not exactly love, could come after marriage, as she was learning herself.

  She rubbed her wet cunt over Hammond’s thigh and slipped a hand down Rhys’s body to grip his cock. It was still limp, but she knew it would soon rise again. Both these men had endless stamina, both in the bedroom and on the battlefield.

  Rhys grabbed her hair. “Suck me. Suck me hard, and make me ready for you.”

  Happily she slid down his body, making sure Hammond felt her wetness and the hard points of her nipples as she moved off him, and over Rhys. She loved sucking their shafts. They each had a distinct taste, neither of them unpleasant, and, as always after they’d already coupled, their cocks also tasted of her, which was an aphrodisiac all of itself.

  Elinor licked along the length of his stalk, tasting her own cream plus his seed. The mixture was incredibly arousing, her sweetness and his tartness blended together. She flicked the tip of her tongue up under his foreskin, loving the softness of the protected head of his cock, then into the eye hoping for a drop of his essence, but he wasn’t ready yet.

  Carefully, she sucked him deeper inside her mouth, opening the back of her throat as he’d taught her, forcing herself not to gag as he slid deeper down it, then she swallowed on him, knowing that aroused him faster than anything else.

  She couldn’t hold that position very long, only for a few heartbeats, but it was long enough to feel his cock fatten and lengthen before she released him from her mouth.

  Elinor took his balls in her hand, rolling them around, loving the contrast between the tougher, hairy skin and the solid muscle of his shaft.

  “Now lie on Hammond, your back to his chest,” ordered Rhys.

  Elinor moved onto Hammond as instructed, expecting him to press his cock into her ass, but instead, he moved her around and pushed it into her cunt. She enjoyed the new position. He felt different like this, but just as good as ever.

  When Rhys leaned over her, she opened her mouth, expecting him to fill it with his cock, but instead he pushed his dick into her cunt, beside Hammond’s. He had to push hard, forcing her entry to open wider, her walls to stretch to accept him. But then, she’d just been thinking about a baby, and a babe’s head was bigger than even two such well-endowed men as hers. Elinor held still as Rhys forced his way in, until the two cocks filled her and stretched her wider and tighter than she could have imagined.

  Four big, brawny hands on her hips held her quite still as the men began to pump into her. They moved slower and more carefully than usual, and she guessed that was because they had to allow for each other as they withdrew. But gradually they pushed a little harder, a little deeper, and the hands on her hips wandered to squeeze her breasts and stroke her arms and thighs.

  In her turn, she threaded her fingers through her men’s hair, holding them tightly to her, stroking their necks gently as they pumped, keeping her movements in time with theirs. Then her body exploded. One of the men touched her where she’d never been touched before, and a shaft of pleasure/pain slammed into her, tossing her like in a leaf in a storm, into her release.

  “Again. She liked that,” said Hammond, and the men did it again, sending another wickedly delightful pain through her belly.

  “Her womb, together we can hit her womb,” gasped Rhys.

  With the third jab, Elinor’s entire body melted into a puddle of joy. Her fingers went limp in their hair, her arms and legs shook, her cunt clenched and released over and over again, and she had no control of her body at all. She was simply a vessel to be filled with the seed of their lust, as she reveled in the exquisite feelings deep inside her.

  Both men pumped a few more times, their hot seed filling her and running down her thighs. When they finished, Rhys had to lift her off Hammond, as she was still too well fucked to move.

  Chapter Four

  The deer hunt had brought back one buck and three does, which required a lot of work to prepare and preserve for the long winter ahead. All the fat was saved, the clear to be eaten and used in cooking, the spoiled for candles. Hides and skins were preserved as well as the meat.

  The last of the fruit was harvested along with the grain, and even the children were busy in the fields from dawn to dusk. The guards were very alert, knowing Lord Jeffrey’s attack would be soon. At dusk, the men supervised the people’s swimming lessons, until even old Mary, older than anyone could remember, was able to cross the river with a little help from her grandson.

  Several times, the children saw men hiding in the forest. Jeffrey’s soldiers were very good at concealing themselves, but Wade had taken his position very seriously, an
d every child had been taught to look for the tiniest thing out of place, such as a tree whose shape seemed to have changed overnight.

  The people in every hamlet were warned to keep watch. “The attack will be very soon,” the guards told them. The children promised to bring their messages quicker than ever before and raced against each other, discovering the fastest path to each village, and learning from Nerida the value of planning a route before running. Nerida was one of the leaders of the children now, even the boys admitting she was as fast and smart as they were.

  Elinor knew Rhys worried about Lord Jeffrey, and he, Hammond, and Albin trained the guards and freemen as much as possible around the necessity of gathering in the harvest.

  When the attack finally came, it was almost an anticlimax. The children saw the soldiers when they were still miles away, as sunlight flashed off their armor when they topped a hill. Instantly, each child was dispatched to a hamlet to warn the people, some of them reciting Wade’s comment as well, “Foolish man. Why go over the hilltop instead of around.”

  Long before the soldiers arrived, everyone was safely in the stronghold, the gates barred and soldiers and freemen lining the castle walls with bows and arrows, pots of rocks to throw, and weapons stashed ready around the perimeter in case the enemy soldiers broke through somewhere.

  Smoke from two of the hamlets indicated that Lord Jeffrey had burned them in anger, but the people had long since buried their valuables, knowing an attack would come. They also knew Lord Rhys and his men would help rebuild their homes as soon as it was safe to do so.

  Lord Jeffrey threatened and raved, his bowmen shooting arrows at the castle, but no person was hit.

  He rode up and down just out of bowshot of the walls, screaming at his men, waving his arms, and trying to force them to attack. But his soldiers were smart enough to know that unless an arrow killed Lord Rhys, Lord Jeffrey was not going to be successful. Or at least, not this time.

 

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