Bran looked at the messenger, then back at me. “Shall I assemble the council?”
I took a deep breath. This ultimately was my choice. I was acting Queen.
“We shall bar the gates, settle in for a siege. Prince Conchobor will be allowed entrance through the side door on the West side, and we will discuss this, but I will not have an army within my city walls. I believe my father would want it this way.”
“Summon the captain of the guard,” Bran said to Dabid, who dashed almost before he had finished his statement.
I stood silently on the wall watching as the army came in, a thousand strong. Trian stood on my right and Bran at my left. My heart ached, we had brought in everyone we could. We had enough in the stores to last until spring, but we needed to plant the fields then, or we would risk a hard winter next year.
“I would say closer to twelve-hundred, my lady Princess,” Trian said quietly beside me. “And catapults. He raised a spy glass to his eye, “seventeen by the looks of it.”
“And how many cavalry would you guess, young Captain.”
Trian scanned the ranks again. “About two hundred.”
“He brings an army?” My mother's voice sounded from behind me. She was standing straight and tall, her face somber. It was the first time I had seen her outside my father's chambers since he'd passed. Ita stood beside her. It was rare that my little sister wasn't grinning, or at least very animated in her emotions, but now she stood straight beside my mother, hinting toward the regal woman she would someday become, her hair was braided back from her face and made her look older.
Trian and Bran bowed low to my Queen Mother, and I tipped my head.
“He does, Mother.”
At that moment Conchobor rode forward on a large Clydesdale, the horse's thick body, backed with Conchobor in full armor was intimidating, but atop the walls of the city I felt safer.
“You bar the gates to your future King and your betrothed, Jesmaine?” He called up to me, his thick black hair was braided back, his beard braided in two short braids in front.
“You bring an army to the gates of your future Queen, betrothed, and her city, Conchobor?” I responded.
Even from our distance I could see his glare, the squinting of his eyes in anger. The firm set of his mouth. His mother sat upon a smaller white horse at the front lines farther away, her white hair shimmering against the darkness of the army.
“You refused to marry me when I came for a peaceful marriage! Even with your father's blessing and declaration!”
“There was no refusal, only a delay,” I knew the arguments I had would not be strong, but I had the backing of my council, and the Baron had promised to send word to his friends and associates along the border.
“You affront my family and slight my mother and father's deeds by your 'delay!' I demand the marriage for peace tonight!”
My mother's hand met mine, she was Queen, but she had given me over the power.
My father was a brilliant man, when he knew he would not have a son to pass the line to he taught me as much as he could. Though I would never have the authority of a king, I knew how to rule, I knew how to lead an army.
“I have already told you I will marry you when the snows thaw and spring is upon us. Tis but a few short months. You and your mother are welcome within these walls, visit with us and let us get to know one another before we marry. But send away your army first!”
Conchobor paced upon his big horse, the steed chomping at the bit as he yanked sharply at the reigns. “You will marry me by sun-down of your own accord or at dawn I will force you to!”
I could see this was a force of his will. That he would not allow me to exert my power. I was to be a meek shadow behind his will, but I knew too much of his rulings on the borderlands. Though I had never met the Baron I had met Trian, and I knew I could trust him.
I turned to my mother, daring not to show my fear, though my mouth had run dry and my heart ached with the possibility of starting a war. I knew of Mac Raith, the histories of torture were known amongst my people. Even now there were some who feared him beyond the grave. I would not allow another force like him to be upon my throne.
My mother's eyes told me what to do. The sad set of her brow, the fear of the possibilities.
I looked at Conchobor again, squaring my shoulders. In a loud voice, booming so the people who stood behind me in the courtyard listening to my words, my soldiers nobly and strongly upholding the castle of King Dauid, who's very ashes blessed the town's heart, would never doubt that I tried to ensure Conchobor's rule. That I respected my father's blessing.
“I beg of you, Crown Prince Conchobor, please, do not do this to your future kingdom. A spring marriage would be an act of faith that you will rule with a steady and fair hand. That you will respect the wishes of my father and our council, that you will honor your father by bringing peace to this land and your mother by honoring its beauty and its people!”
Conchobor glared up at me, knowing that I was setting forth demands, that I was going to become a true queen not the shadow and wisp he'd desired.
“By sundown!” He screamed, fury in his voice. He spurred his steed away, racing back to his army. I bowed my head, praying to God to save us.
I stood silently watching the sun dipping low on the horizon. The merchants had sent me the snow fox fur coat they had promised for my wedding. I wore it about my shoulders, were they telling me to marry him?
My council was assembled in the hall, and the captains of the guard lined the walls. I turned to regard them.
“We can not go under another king like Mac Raith,” an older man with bushy white hair said, casting aside one of the letters from my father's coffers. “But how do we know that these are truthful.”
“My lord!” One of the soldiers said from the side, “Captain Trian and his squadron came from the borderlands that are beside Crown Prince Conchobor's kingdom. He is regarded as a trustworthy and well respected man. He came from the Baron's land, and can bear witness to the Prince's hard and unforgiving hand.”
Trian stepped forward, recalling things he had witnessed, some were stories by refugees fleeing to the Baron's land, some were first hand. The tale was long, and I turned to watch the sun again. It seemed as though my head was in the guillotine, waiting for the sun to fall and with it the blade. Either choice seemed wrong, my father's blessing kept running through my mind. “None shall usurp him as heir and future king save the son of my blood...” My heart ached, I was not a son.
I realized that Trian's words had ceased. I swallowed, taking in a deep breath and turning to them. I looked at each of them in turn. Every one of them knew what we should do, Mac Raith had been a scourge upon our land, he would burn fields simply to ensure his crop was the only one and people would need to rely on him. He would bed any woman he had a fancy on, some times keeping them to impregnate to spite their marriage bed. Trian's words confirmed that Conchobor could easily become that monster.
My eyes finally fell on Trian's. The stormy blue met with my brown. I was falling for him, but that could not be a factor to my choice. I was grateful that though it was it was so small that no one would doubt my reasons.
“Tonight we prepare for war.”
I sat silently at dinner, my mother and Ita sat at the table with me. Ita was recalling the many things she'd been seeing of people preparing the kingdom for a long siege, all food had been delivered to the stores save a few days worth, they would be counted and measured, and food stuffs would be given to people in rations. Some activities in the kingdom would stop, in favor of sending the people to daily training for war, my father had encouraged learning places, and most of his kingdom knew the basics of fighting.
“Oh mother, do we stand a chance with my father's blessing cursing us?” I said, putting my head in my hands as tears fell.
My mother's hand touched my shoulder, “Our King was a wise man, but he was human, and his fault was his trust. We will pray that his trust has not doo
med us all, the siege perhaps can grant us time to discover a way of honoring his blessing in another way. Eat, you need your strength.”
I stood silently watching the stars circle the heavens above in the gardens beside my personal chambers, though the snow covered the beautiful plants it was still beautiful. At dawn Conchobor said he would force our marriage.
Mighty Orion stood in the stars, his sword upraised. As a child I had envisioned him to be like my mighty Conchobor. I had dreamed he would be a king to defend my honor, to allow me to rule by his side, to love and cherish.
My tears continued to fall, silently here, where no one would see, my body ached for comfort, for some realization on how to honor my father's blessing despite Conchobor's tyrannical traits.
“My lady Princess?” I turned to Trian, his smile was soft, but sad.
I had thought I was alone. What was it about him that drew him to me? That drew me to him? I sobbed, my body shuddering, and I collapsed to my knees. Why could he not be Conchobor? Why could he not be the crown prince? True of heart a leader, despite his playboy ways.
Trian knelt beside me, wrapping his arms about me, stroking my brown hair as it cascaded against the white fur.
I wrapped my arms around his waist, burying my face into his breast, smelling the leather of his armor, the sweat of his work. He was firm, warm and real, holding me close.
It was late, near midnight, the castle was quiet near my family's chambers, but bustling on the other side, preparing for dawn, we were secluded here, alone.
I felt Trian's hand stroke my cheek, tipping my chin up toward him. Our eyes locked and I could see the love he had for me. We had not meant to do it, falling in love. But I could see it within his eyes, written in the concern in his brow, the need in the pool of his blue eyes.
His lips met mine timidly, so soft, so gentle. It was my first kiss, and beautiful, even in the chilly winter night it heated me to my core. When my lips soften and I returned the kiss, his became more aggressive, pressing firmly to mine, his tongue dancing within my mouth.
I shivered against him, though it wasn't from cold, he read it as such.
He scooped me up and carried me up the steps toward my chambers, our lips still locked, my arms wrapped around his neck.
He set my feet on the floor in front of the hearth, so I stood in front of him. He pulled back the slightest bit, his eyes still closed, his mouth parted. I could smell mint upon his breath still.
“I should go,” he murmured, though he made no move away.
“No, you should stay. Likely in the coming weeks my hand will be united to Conchobor. Allow me this night for love. Have my virgin blood, Trian, plant your seed within my womb.”
His moan echoed in my hear, the aching need within him, his shattering of will of leaving destroyed. His mouth met mine hungrily, and he wrapped his arms around me, he danced me back to his bed and removed the white fur cloak, casting it to the floor. My fingers worked quickly at the lacings on his sides removing the breastplate and casting it to the floor. His hands were undoing the cords on my front, spilling my breasts to the warm. I trembled, and things slowed, his hands were soft, exploring my breasts gently, when he stooped and kissed them my body clenched deep in the pit of my stomach.
He suckled softly at my creamy skin, our moans of pleasure filling the air of my bedchambers. He pushed the red fabric down along my body removing my underclothes with it. I pulled his tunic up and over his head, then went to his trousers.
I wanted to explore his nude body up close, yearned for it. Our lips danced with each others as I removed the last remnants of his clothing, leaving us both bare before each other. Our bodies were distinctly different. I pushed him gently back to lay upon his back. Then I sat up. His sword stood erect, long and thick, bigger by twice than when I had seen him bathing. The head glistened with moistness. I swirled my finger along that moist tip. He was watching me, his lips slightly parted. As I touched him, sliding my hand around the width of his shaft.
My fingers played in the wiry hair, and then cupped his soft balls. The texture was amazing. I knew that lips made men happy, and I had long wanted to taste it. I bent and slid my lips around the tip of the wide head. “Oh god, Jesmaine, Princess, god!” He moaned as my mouth began to work. Everything about it was lovely, because it was part of a man I loved. The wide mushroom tip, the veiny shaft, the large soft balls. I sucked and kissed, working my tongue in circles, kissing and sucking up the side, gently pushing it to the back of my throat until I feared I may gag then backing off.
“Princess, please, no more or I shall be spent!”
I smiled up at him, sitting back. He sat up and kissed me, despite my flavors being of him. Then pushed me back into the pillows. His lips wandered down my body and I ached, realizing suddenly that he meant to return the favor! I had not heard of this aspect of love-making. I ached as he kissed and sucked along my belly and down through the thatch of fur on my womanhood. I knew I had a hole there he would enter, but not how or where. I knew it would hurt the first time and I would give him my virgin blood.
When he spread my lower lips and his breath whispered over my opening I cried out in pleasure, my fingers wrapping in the quilt. His mouth disappeared between my legs, sealing over my body and kissing me. I felt his kiss deepen and his wide tongue pressed against spots I didn't know I had, flicking and driving and pushing me. My body ached, my legs quivered, and I fought the urge to giggle as his tongue and mouth worked. Then suddenly the tickles ebbed and a deeper sensation overwhelmed me. Heat blossomed in my belly, hot and hard, like iron being heated in the fire, his breath the bellows, stoking the flame. His tongue thrusts the hammers form it into a ball. My entire body was being remolded to that place.
“God! God!” I grunted and suddenly, as though that hot ball of iron was suddenly turned to glass it shattered, exploding through my body, arching me up and off the bed. I cried out in rapture, devoured by the sensations coursing through my body.
Trian kissed his way up my body as the sensation slowly ebbed, looking at me, his blue eyes wide. “Are you sure about this my lady Princess? Conchobor will be furious.”
I took his face in my hands, letting the love I had for him show true. “Take my virgin blood, Trian, please. I am only Jesmaine, no more Princess tonight.”
He kissed me deep then, and I could taste my sex mingling with his. Gently he stroked between my legs with his hand, and sat back on his buttocks. Gently he pulled me up to sit atop him, my legs around his waist. I felt the mushroom head of his penis pressing against me.
My eyes were wide, and I struggled to breathe, my body excited and nervous.
“Ready, my love?” He murmured, kissing me softly.
I nodded, my heart pounding. He slid inside with one powerful stroke, driving into my wet walls. I arched into him, not sure whether to pull away or push into him. He stole my cry of pain with a kiss, and gently slid out. I could feel my wetness, but the pain was only discomfort as he moved.
“More...please,” I breathed. Trian obliged, gently stroking inside me. The discomfort was minimal. He adjusted our posture a bit, bringing me toward him so my breasts were pressed into him, and he moved my hips down on his length. I felt his penis curl toward the front of my belly. His powerful thighs corded and moved against my legs as he stroked his hips up into me, as though petting my insides.
Then, as though he had found a strange button I yelped, and those shards of glass that had my skin standing on edge started melting back together, forming once again the iron ball.
God, was this an orgasm? So delicious and powerful. The more his body found that button in me the more noise I made. I couldn't stop it, I moaned, I whimpered, I cried. Finally I could handle it no longer and I felt the explosion within me again and I screamed his name, not caring who knew that my virgin blood was given to this captain I was so in love with. I arched and almost fell back, but he caught me, holding me to him still.
I felt him push deep and he moaned, his body t
ightening, and I realized he was releasing his seed within me, his orgasm pulsing through him.
I watched as lips parted with his breath and his eyes squeezed shut in exaltation. He was more beautiful in that moment, as though he had been lifted to be with God. An angel, and suddenly I knew.
None shall usurp him as heir and future king save the son of my blood. My blood sheathed his cock, stained the bed. Permanently tied us together. I was not a son, but Trian had taken my blood freely given. My father's son. He kissed me and I knew in that moment. We would be safe. He would save us.
The Next Morn
We were awoken before dawn the next morn, my lady's maids eyes were white with her shock, but she hurried about setting out my gown, bathing my sensitive and sore body. Trian bathed in my room as well, not bearing to leave my side.
They hurried quickly to wash me, and provided Trian with fresh clothing, begging decorum and for him to leave the room. I wouldn't allow it. Lassi entered, her face sober, no doubt being fetched to handle the man in the Princess's Chambers.
Her eyes darted to the bed, her full cheeks blushed deeply as she saw my virgin blood, red against the snowy white plane.
“Princess,” she murmured, and crossed toward us, she turned to shoo Trian from the room, but I touched her arm.
“He stays. He is of my father's blood now. We shall be wed on the castle walls at dawn. Arrange it.”
Lassi's mouth dropped open, “Princess, my lady...”
“Now.” I turned away dismissing her and shook my head at the soft blue lovely gown my ladies held in front of me. Gown after gown appeared before me, but frustrated I shook my head against them. Purple, gold, white, pink. Soft and lovely and exquisite, but none what I sought.
“I must look the Queen, powerful, strong.” I looked at Trian, “and Trian must look the King. He is now a Prince of blood.”
My mother opened the door at that moment, as they held a lilac gown up.
She looked at the blood stain on the bed, at Trian as he stood in his black leather trousers shirtless, and me in a simple linen cloth that barely concealed my body.
When Day Turns Night Page 3
