FOREWORD:
This is not something I do often, so forgive my brutish and heavy-handed style. Someone told me I should write - and so I did. If this story gains enough traction, then I might be persuaded to write a sequel.
Anyway, enjoy:
*
The hooded man dashed through the snow. His heavy boots leave heavy footprints in the forest as he hurries forward. The sound of hooves and the cries of men resonate around the trees, and fear beats its rhythmic drum against his chest. He reaches a clearing, and stops to catch his breath. The cloaked man doubles over, exhausted. He raises his hands and speaks a few words in an ancient, dead language. The sorcerer tries desperately to weave his spell, but his fingers are frozen and his hands sore. He thinks back to the castle, and the great fire in the centre, a flame to warm the whole world. There is a cluttering behind him, and he turns suddenly. He raises his staff, and clutches it in his cold, frozen hands.
"Stay back!" He roars. It is hardly a roar; his voice is hoarse and spent. The cold wind blows his hood away. He shouts again,
"Don't make me hurt you!"
A lone horseman stands, his lance pointed at the ground. Soft snowflakes fall on his shining silver armour. He doesn't respond to this wizard's threat. His power is spent; he cannot weave any of his foul spells. He raises his spear, the metal tip glinting in the twilight of that wooded clearing. The heroic knight starts to charge, images of victory filling his mind. He would return to the castle, all would adore and love him. He would return to the queen, and with the king dead he would take his place at her side. He roars out as he charges, slamming his lance against his shield.
---
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The doorkeeper was confused. The hour was late, and the castle was not expecting any visitors. He opened the grand wooden door, and a hunched hooded figure stood on the porch. He held a wooden staff. The doorkeeper let the man inside, and said gruffly,
"The village is a few miles down the road. This is not a hostel."
The man replied slowly, "They sent me here. Let me warm my hands and I will be on my way."
The guard grunted, and let the man through. The hooded figure stepped through the door of the castle, and crossed the threshold. In the centre, a great fire roared. Embers danced to a song as old as time on the incandescent logs. Lancers of light charged the darkness, driving it to the corners of the great hall. A man sat on a throne at the end of the room, a crown perched atop his head. He was fat, and he sat alone. There was no queen beside him. He spoke in a deep, rumbling voice,
"Who are you, and what businesses have you in my castle?"
"I am a simple traveller, driven here by the cruelties of the night." The hooded man replied.
The king leant forward with a smile and said, "A traveller! How wonderful! Sit and eat with us, I would be honoured to hear of your adventures." He turned to a steward, "Fetch the Queen, I'm sure she would enjoy this man's tale."
"And where might the queen be?" the steward replied timidly.
---
"Yes! Serve your Queen, knight!"
A slim, red-haired woman lay back on the bed, moaning softly. Her naked body was illuminated by the flickering light of a candle on the bedside. Her hair flowed gently down her face, falling on her naked, heaving chest. Her legs were spread, and her hands gripped the hair of the man between them. She cried out as his tongue lapped hungrily at her royal womanhood. As she cried out, her orgasm nearly upon her and as the man tasked to defend her husband's possessions buried his tongue inside her, she heard a knock on the door.
She sighed, and kicked the knight aside. She rose slowly, and dressed herself as the man scurried away to hide from the impending retribution.
"Come in," she said. Her voice was like silk.
The steward peeked in through the door and informed her that the King had requested her presence. She sighed again, and headed to the hall.
All eyes turned as she entered. She saw first the King, and was disgusted. The man smelt like a pig, but had the pride of a lion. She had refused his advances after their first child, and so he now spent his time fucking the chambermaids. Of course, she was still his wife, and she had to make sure she stayed that. She would do as he asked, sometimes. The queen turned her head slowly, and saw the King's trusted bodyguard standing to attention. She liked him, and she liked the way he quivered when she walked past. Lastly, she noticed the stranger, the hooded man with that long wooden staff. At first she thought nothing of him, and sat next to the King.
"Why did you summon me, darling?" she whispered.
"A traveller is here, and a wizard by the look of him." He replied. He could smell her sex rising from her legs. She was wet for him already -- he would certainly enjoy taking her this evening.
"What business brings you here, wizard?" She asked, loudly, ignoring the way her husband was staring at her breasts.
The man looked startled, "I am no wizard. I am merely a traveller."
"Do you think me a fool, hooded man? We are not as backwards as you might think. I recognize the seal on your clasp. Come, take a seat and shed those travelling clothes. We have food and wine."
"Some of the finest!" interrupted her husband. The queen smiled sweetly, seething with rage at the man's idiocy. The man smiled and thanked her, and took a seat. He took of his cloak, and his hood. He was a young man, with a slight beard that he had developed on the road. His face was weathered, but handsome. He was attractive, and powerful, and this stirred something deep in the queen's loins. She let her husband slip his hand between her legs, imagining what it might be like to be the bride of a magician -- it must be far greater than the wife of a lowly king.
The stranger ate quickly, shovelling the food down his throat. The members of the court looked on horrified as he gulped down the wine. He finished his meal quickly, and stood up,
"Thank you, your highnesses. I will be on my way now." He announced.
The king was about to ask the stranger to share some of his tales, when his wife spoke.
"No you can't! It is cold outside, and we would be terrible hosts if we let you out into the cold. Stay here for the night," she said in that wonderfully soft voice of hers. Her words warmed his heart more than the fire he stood beside. She smiled at him, a slight smile on her face. She continued:
"Come. Let me show you to your room."
The queen rose slowly. Her silk robes trailed behind her as she swayed towards him. The eyes of all the men were fixed firmly on her ass as she walked slowly towards the stranger. She took him by the hand and led him away. The king was so enticed by his wife, her supple body covered in those expensive clothes that she had him order especially, that he dismissed the court as she left. He then summoned his favourite maid to the throne. His bodyguard closed the door, as the young woman knelt before the throne.
The tall magician followed the queen up the winding stairs of the castle. She didn't speak to him, and he was used to keeping his mouth shut. They ascended in silence, and she showed him into his room. He nodded his thanks and stepped inside, prepared to sleep little and rise early. He was most surprised to turn around and see her still standing there.
"Is there anything further, your highness?" he asked her politely.
"Yes. What kind of wizard are you? Why are you travelling so far? Where are you travelling to?"
He was shocked by the number of questions; they came so quick and fast. As he paused and thought about the best answer, she strode over the bed and sat down. He noticed then, that the door was closed. The wizard turned to the queen and said slowly,
"I am travelling to the coast; there is news of a disturbance there. I cannot tell you what caused this news, I do not know. As for what kind of wizard I am, I am tasked with keeping the time."
She was confused by this, but didn't press further. Truthfully, she cared little for what magic he performed. The men and women who bore the Sorcerers Crest were renowned and feared throughout the land. She placed the lamp she had been carrying on the bed, and stood up to face him. She stepped closer to him, and spoke in a gentler tone.
"Is it true you wizards have to remain celibate?"
She could see he was startled, and as he started to reply, stuttering and floundering, she slid to her knees in front of him. She took his hand in hers, and placed it on her head gently. She smiled up at him, and then slowly undid his trousers. When he finally spoke, her hand was already caressing his cock, and she could feel it growing firm in her warm little hands.
"We cannot do this. You are married, and to a king at that" He said, but there was no confidence behind his voice.
"You think I love him? You think he cares for me? He sits at his throne while that slut of a maid hungrily sucks his smelly little cock. You on the other hand, are a far finer specimen." She giggled as she spoke, her voice sweet and sultry. She wrapped her pink lips around the head of his cock, as she cradled his balls gently. The queen smiled inwardly as the wizard groaned, and gripped hold of her hair. She was getting out of this disgusting castle, and away from that foul king. This wizard was the way out.
