The Bastard, page 14
I stayed where I was, barely daring to breathe lest she decide on a whim to open a vein. If she chose to, I knew I couldn’t do anything to stop her.
Instead, in a move just as fluid as all the rest, she disengaged and stood facing me from the other side of the drawing room, the letter opener nowhere in sight.
“Good,” she said. “Not the best I’ve ever seen, but you are at least coordinated, and there is nothing wrong with your speed. If you really are willing, I ought to be able to make a half decent swordsman of you.”
Still puffing and sweating, I sheathed my sword.
“I am willing,” I said.
“In that case, do I assume that you now understand my value?”
“I do,” I said.
“Then consider this your first lesson. Payment is due now, and I expect you back on my doorstep every day except Sundays. How does that sound?”
Then she tilted her head to one side and looked at me thoughtfully. “You are a very attractive man,” she said. “Perhaps there are other options for payment you might be interested in? One that doesn’t involve coin?”
What? Surprised, I hesitated, thinking about her offer, making sure I understood her correctly. Then, I smiled. “Lady Emmeline, are you speaking of other… physical… payment?”
She nodded decidedly. “You are the nicest looking man who has entered my home in a long time. And I admit that you intrigue me.”
“And you intrigue me, Lady,” I said truthfully. After her display with the sword, I didn’t doubt her physical capabilities. But I had never been with a woman her age before, unless you counted Meghan, and she looked younger, and I really didn’t know her age.
And yet, while Meghan had cloaked herself in the visage of an old crone, Lady Emmeline stood tall and straight, and she had obviously been a great beauty in her younger years. She still was.
“Well?” Lady Emmeline said, and it was obvious she wasn’t going to wait all day for my answer. “Do you find me ugly?”
“Quite the contrary,” I said, smiling again. “You are beautiful and elegant.” I took a hesitant step toward her, feeling slightly aroused at the prospect of sex with a teacher. It felt a bit forbidden, more so than the younger women I usually sought out, whether they were married or not. And I liked it.
Make your own damn rules.
What did I care what anyone thought? It wouldn’t be bad, would it? And I’d get free lessons in return. I reached out to take her gloved hand and nodded.
And just like that, Lady Emmeline grabbed my hand in her firm grip and led me upstairs to her bed chamber.
33
I had never been so surprised in my life when she ordered me to strip. I had fully intended on taking the lead, as I often did, but it seemed Lady Emmeline had other plans. I removed my clothing while she lit a candle in the corner of the room.
Then, I watched, fascinated, as she reached up to pull the comb out of her hair, letting her long silver locks fall down her back. When she turned around, the glow from the candle made her look more elegant than ever. She looked me up and down, and I stood in front of her unashamedly. This was one department where I was not lacking, and my prowess in the bedroom far outshone my limited skill with the sword.
She seemed satisfied with me because a ghost of a smile crossed her lips.
“Go sit on the bed,” she said, gesturing to a comfortable looking large bed on one wall.
Having her order me around was more enticing than I would have thought, so I did as she said, sitting down on the edge with my feet on the floor.
Lady Emmeline took a cushion from a chair next to the candle and then came to stand before me. She ran a skilled finger down my face, tracing my jawline. Then, she dropped the cushion at my feet and knelt on it.
I raised an eyebrow, and the mischievous older woman smirked. Then, she looked at my body again, her gaze traveling down to my groin.
“I see you do find me somewhat attractive,” she said.
Removing her gloves, she took my length in her hand, stroking me, applying just enough pressure that I closed my eyes to enjoy it.
“Mmm…” she said as if to herself. “He likes that. I wonder what else he likes.”
Then I felt her lips on me, and my breath hitched in my throat. With a swirl of her tongue, Lady Emmeline proved that she was more than just a master of the sword. As she slid up and down on me, she grabbed my balls as well, and I jerked involuntarily.
With a wet sound, she pulled back and said, “You are moving around too much.”
“Sorry,” I said, panting. Then I opened my eyes to look at her. The lady had stood and went to root around in a drawer. “Everything okay?” I asked breathlessly.
She turned, holding several long pieces of cloth in her hand. They caught the candlelight as she walked back to the bed.
“Everything is marvelous,” she said, smiling. “Have you ever felt silk before?”
I shook my head. “No, Lady Emmeline, I haven’t.” Silk came from the Far East, and I’d only ever heard about the extraordinary fabric.
She smiled and selected one piece of silk, laying the others on the bed. “This was a gift given to me by the King himself. It used to be a scarf, but I have since found better purposes for it.
“And that is?” I asked, eyeing her warily.
She took the silk piece and ran it along the side of my arm. “Feel that? Is it not exquisite? Silk is very strong, and does not tear easily, but it is soft on the skin.”
“I feel it,” I said, wondering where she was heading. But I also couldn’t stop thinking about how her expert lips had felt on me, and had to admit I was ready to continue.
She must have sensed my impatience, for she smiled. “Lie back on the pillows,” she commanded.
With a shrug, I moved backward until my upper body was resting on the many pillows. Lady Emmeline moved to the side of the bed and took my hand. As I watched, she wrapped one end of the silk piece around my wrist, tying it securely. Then, she fastened the other end to the bed post.
“Lady Emmeline, I—”
“Hush,” she said. “You are completely safe.”
And because she was so calm, and so in control, I trusted her. So I tried to relax as she gathered the other strips of silk and began to tie my other limbs to the bed. When she was finished, I was spread-eagled on the covers, incapable of getting up unless I tried to break the bedposts. And that looked like it would take a feat of strength I might not be able to do from my current position, as they had been made from sturdy pieces of lumber.
“You are thinking about escape,” the lady said holding the last piece of silk in her hands. “But Mordie, try to relax.”
And then, she blindfolded me, tying the silk fabric around my eyes, instantly making everything dark. My heart began to pound, but I didn’t know if it was excitement or fear.
I settled for excitement. At this point, I could not do anything about it. And anyway, if she had wanted to kill me, she could have done so with the letter opener downstairs.
The room filled with the smell of incense, and I suddenly felt more alive than I had felt in several days. I felt every movement of air as it brushed against my skin, and I heard the rustle of clothing, and the lady’s soft footsteps as she walked softly back to the bed.
Then I felt her hands on my body, moving up from my legs, to my thighs, her fingers feeling my muscles. Then, she moved upward still, ignoring my hardening erection and running her strong fingers up my stomach, pausing to pinch my nipples—hard!—before running her hands through my long hair.
She had shed her clothing because I felt her surprisingly soft flesh against my own naked body. The bed shifted, and she straddled me, still running her hands over me in slow, sensuous circles.
“Lovemaking is an art, Mordie,” she said.
“Yes,” I said, my voice growing husky.
“Would you consider yourself skilled in this area?” she asked.
“Until a few moments ago, I thought so,” I said. My breath hitched in my throat as her body moved downward over mine. I felt her shift as she slid lower and knelt between my spread legs. I felt exposed, but also incredibly aroused.
When she took me in her mouth once more, I gasped and wanted to move, but the silk bonds held tight. So I settled back and listened to the sounds of her sucking and licking on me, her tongue moving up and down in ways no woman had ever done before.
And I had thought Rosylin was skilled in this area.
Lady Emmeline even licked my balls, sucking on them while her hand ran up and down my shaft. I was breathing heavily, trying not to get too excited, but I didn’t seem to have a choice. The woman was too expert in her craft.
Then, she took me all the way in her mouth, sucked hard, and I exploded. She continued to suck and lick until I was spent, and my hips arched off the bed in an almost violent way. Lady Emmeline seemed to enjoy the taste of me, because she made sounds of pleasure herself as I finished.
When she finally released me, I was sweating again, and I could feel the moisture on her skin as well as she moved up beside me on the bed. She kissed me softly on the lips and then draped an arm over my stomach to trace the muscles there.
I felt utterly spent and exhausted.
“I feel like I still owe you payment,” I said after a moment. “Because you have just given me another lesson, Lady Emmeline.”
I could almost hear her smirk. “We are just getting started, Mordie. Tomorrow, I will have something else for you.”
“Can’t wait,” I said, and I meant it whole-heartedly.
34
Durstan’s movements throughout the city proved less predictable than Bryce’s had been, but he still had his habits, and the information provided by my growing network was more than enough to enable me to piece them together.
It became clear that regardless of what Rolf had him doing, what schemes and foul enterprises he was part of, Durstan liked to keep a certain amount of routine in his personal life.
He had no wife, no family, and women in general tended to avoid the brute of a man. Yet his activities with Rolf had made him comparatively wealthy, and he would spend part of that wealth at a particular brothel.
I asked my contacts to find out as much as they could, and soon learned that while he kept to no set schedule, he would stop by the brothel at least twice a week, and sometimes more often than that.
Even in the brothel, the girls didn’t much like him. While their encounters were typically brief, they weren’t gentle.
It turned out that Durstan enjoyed using his fists a little too much, and more often than not the girl–or girls–he chose would end up nursing bruises in the bargain.
Not that they could easily complain. Durstan was a Blackcoat. And with that came a certain immunity from complaint, retaliation, or pretty much anything.
So, I knew I had a likely place where I could find him. I just didn’t know the time.
Fortunately, there was a tavern across the way from Durstan’s brothel, with a window pointed just the right way.
I spent several enjoyable afternoons sitting at the table next to that window, nursing an ale as I kept watch.
At the same time, I chatted with the serving girls, adding them to my growing network in an informal way, just talking, learning whatever gossip they had. And I spent considerable time talking to one of the locals as well, a man who shared my taste for looking through windows. He was none other than Garath the blacksmith.
At first, I only struck up another conversation with him, but after a few drinks, he opened up to me.
Garath wasn’t always there, but when he was, we shared a drink and a tale or two, and I learned that things were not going too well. He’d lost his wife some years earlier, and while he’d always worked with two of his sons, times were harder than they had been before.
He wasn’t sure how he was going to survive.
Which was a shame, because he was good at what he did.
It turned out that Garath owned a horse and cart which he used mostly for delivering the goods of his trade, but which he was happy to lend out as well, if he approved of the use to which it would be put.
More often than not, the cart was parked close to the brothel’s front door, yet it didn’t obscure my view.
Garath began to question why I had suddenly decided to frequent this particular tavern, and though I didn’t tell him my exact plans, I said I was waiting for an opportunity. In truth, I began to wonder if I couldn’t use Garath in some way, if he could help me. And after a few afternoons, I finally let him in on my secret. The man had been downright astonished that I was hunting Durstan, but he quickly volunteered to help.
And in this way, we formed a better plan than the one I’d had, and he began meeting me every day to drink.
And he was good company, raising an eyebrow at my choice of pet, but saying not a word when Sir George climbed down from my arm onto the table to steal morsels of meat from my plate or a sip from my flagon of ale.
One day soon after, Garath was sharing my table when Durstan finally appeared, black coat and all, and entered the brothel.
I grinned very broadly and took a deep swallow of my drink.
“It looks like the time has come,” I said. “Come along, Sir George. We have a job to do.”
With that, I stood, and with an amiable nod to my friend, I made my way out of the tavern and studied the brothel across the way.
It was then that I saw the flaw in my plan.
I had intended to use the same technique that had been so effective against Bryce, before he figured out he was being followed. I wanted to basically lean against the brothel wall and wait for Durstan to re-emerge. But the Blackcoat hadn’t come alone. He’d come with a friend, another Blackcoat. And while this new wrinkle had wandered over to the brothel some seconds after my target, it was clear they were there together.
The new Blackcoat, a dark-haired man with a surly expression, hadn’t followed Durstan in, but instead had stationed himself next to the door, right where I had been planning to stand.
Perhaps Bryce’s untimely death had made Durstan nervous. Perhaps he didn’t like the idea of a stranger stabbing him through the heart. In any event, he had backup, in the form of a colleague who was standing watch.
And the guard wasn’t shirking his task. His eyes were constantly moving, scanning back and forth, and he had already marked me as I stood there, weighing my options.
There was no way I was going to back out of my plan, even with this stranger standing guard. Camelot was a big city. I could go my whole life without stumbling across Durstan by chance, and well knew from the information I gained that this was my best shot.
So I put my best grin on my face and stepped into the mud, crossing the way to the brothel as if I had every right to do so.
At every step, I feared that the Blackcoat on lookout might recognize me. I’d never seen him before, but that didn’t mean he didn’t know who I was.
For all I knew, he might have been on guard at my hanging. Or he might have been one of those Blackcoats who’d taken me from the storage room to the jail. I’d been unconscious at the time and couldn’t have known who was present if my life depended on it.
Which, if this man did know me, it could very well be. I would need to trust that my beard and changed hair would be enough to shield me from the casual observer, as it had seemed to do thus far.
Just in case, I rubbed the amulet Meghan had given me and relied on the knowledge that I didn’t know this man, so it was likely he didn’t know me, either.
My approach didn’t go unnoticed, though. He studied me as I drew near, his eyes flicking to Sir George on my shoulder and back to my face. And while it wasn’t recognition that I could see on his face, it was suspicion mixed with native hostility.
“What’s your game?” he demanded as I drew near. Unlike so many of his brethren, this man didn’t have a knob-ended club with which to threaten me. He did have a sword, but hadn’t drawn that either. Instead, he had a weighted sap in his grip, and the tension in his shoulders suggested he didn’t mind using it.
Of course, I did have a knob-ended club. The one that had belonged to Bryce. But I was holding it casually, like a short walking staff, doing my best not to look threatening.
I paused a few paces from him and gave him a broad, innocent smile. “No game,” I said cheerily. “I just wanted to say hello. You see, I am thinking about joining the Blackcoats, and I was wondering…”
I could see the man’s sneer start before I was done speaking, and knew he was on the verge of sending me away. To him, I’d put myself in the category of, “pest,” and I was happy with that.
Because it meant that to him, I wasn’t a threat.
Yet he didn’t look away, not even for a moment, so if I was to take him by surprise, I would have to do something he wouldn’t expect.
In my pocket, I also had the wooden discs Meghan had given me, the ones she had enchanted to take away a man’s sight. I gripped one between two fingers and a thumb, and applied enough pressure to break it into two.
I could only imagine the whisper of magic escaping from the disc, but the impact was immediate. All at once, the Blackcoat’s sneer turned into a look of astonishment and fear, and his eyes became wide.
I paused in my speech, looked around to make sure there were no witnesses to worry about, then stepped forward, took a two-handed grip on the end of my club, and swung it for all I was worth.
The club connected with the Blackcoat hard in the stomach, and he doubled over as he let out a wordless grunt of pain and surprise as the air burst from his lungs.
I didn’t stop there, either, but instead changed my stance just enough to deliver a second blow, this time to the back of his head.
The Blackcoat landed face first in the mud. Whether he was unconscious or dead, I couldn’t tell, and didn’t much care. From my point of view, he had sealed his fate when he aligned himself with my target.
But either way, I couldn’t leave him where he had fallen, so I rested my knob-ended club against the wall and quickly dragged the Blackcoat into the alley beside the brothel. Once there, I took off the man’s coat, did my best to clean the mud off it, and put it on in place of my own.
