KNIGHT OF CARLOVAIN, CHAPTER 3
"My Heart's Delight"
By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
"Oh, Hamran was a blacksmith's son,
He hammered all day long,
And as he hammered out the bars,
He sang a single song.
Oh, I'm a simple commoner!
I know my lot in life!
But could I but love Alatan
T'would be my heart's delight."
Andrew stirred and opened his eyes. He was inside a dwelling, for he looked up into beams and a thatched roof. Raising up with startlement, he found himself on a pallet of straw, lying upon a sturdy blanket and covered by his cloak. He was otherwise nude. Nearby outside, someone was blasting out a song while making vague, scraping-like sounds.
"Alatan was a nobleman,
Who rode by twice a day,
And when he passed poor Hamran's shop
He smiled Hamran's way.
Oh, I'm a simple commoner!
I know my lot in life!
But could I but love Alatan
T'would be my heart's delight."
Andrew rose and went to his clothing. He felt a slick greasiness in his anus, and reached there, feeling his nether region gingerly. Whatever had happened to him after he had passed out during his ordeal, he had not suffered much more. His fingers he lifted to his nostrils, the greasiness smelt oddly minty, and it numbed his fingers. Passera root extract, then. Someone had doctored his violated buttocks for him, and brought him here.
"One eventide, to Hamran's joy,
Alatan stopped his horse,
And walking into Hamran's shop,
He spoke with kindest voice.
I've heard your song while riding by,
It calls me to your side,
And could I stay with you this night
T'would be my heart's delight."
Andrew pulled on his clothes, noting that his clothing, torn by the savage hands, had been neatly mended. Looking at the brightness outside, but which did not penetrate the hut's windows on any side, he knew the hour must be near midday.
The hut door had been standing open, and it now filled, dimmed from the bulk, with the brawny body of the man who had been singing.
"What, ho, my Lord, you are back among the living." he said. He was Neresterii, his hair was recently cut and therefore very short, his beard neatly trimmed though not in any grand style, he wore a sturdy sleeveless jerkin and traditional Neresterii leggings, cured animal furs bound about his sturdy legs with leather straps, covering him from above his ankles to his upper thigh, his groin wrapped in a leather girthet, which was an abbreviated piece of clothing formed of an hourglass-shaped piece of leather which was tied to his body on both sides, leaving exposed his hips on both sides but concealing his nudity. In inclement weather, to this would be added a broad girdle fastened at the waist that would hang down to mid-thigh, but the weather was yet warm enough to permit him to leave this small amount of flesh bare to the elements, as was his chest bare beneath his unlaced jerkin. "Welcome back from death's doorstep and welcome instead to my humble dwelling. I am called Uverel."
Uverel was a huge, strong man. His chest hair was a heavy mat across his breast, that begged fingers to run through them and pluck them playfully. His face was round and hearty, his manner was brash and self-confident, yet somehow missing arrogance.
Andrew found himself liking this man immediately. He pulled his shirt together, tying its laces, and smiled, "It would seem so, though I did not know when I closed my eyes if they would ever open again.."
"Yes, I know you were in the hands of the Archbishop's Guard and not a few who find themselves there do not ever return to the living again. Are you the man they called you when they captured you, the son of the new Duke of Heslov?"
"Yes, I am Andrew, the son of Duke Falin. How did I get here?" Andrew said. His pouch had been on the table with his clothing, with the money still inside, and his sword. "And know you perhaps what has happened to my horse?"
Uverel laughed heartily. "Your horse, now is it? Wasn't I in enough danger gathering you from their midst in the darkness and your clothes and sword and refilling your pouch from the gamblers who had played dice with it? I had to slit the throats of two were waking up as it was."
Andrew was abashed. "I am heartily sorry for offending. Indeed, I asked about the horse only because it alone is missing from all my belongings of yestereve, and I am astonished by that, for I considered all to be lost."
"Your horse is outside, tethered beneath a sheltering oak, and has been given water and some cut grass, my Lord." Uverel said. "I came within to see if you were recovered and to prepare a midday meal for us both."
"Yes, please." Andrew said. "I have not eaten since yesterday at this time."
"Then I shall cut you a piece of my poor bread and have some meat I can give you to fold within it." Uverel said. "I have no woman to prepare a proper meal."
"That would be fine." Andrew assured this man, who went to his cupboard. "But again, I ask, how did I come here?"
"Because I saw the guards' fire from my watching rock." Uverel said. "I went down to see what scurvy mischief they were up to, and arrived not in time to stop you from walking into their midst. If you would travel these roads alone, my Lord, you must learn more discretion."
"I concede the error of my plan." Andrew agreed. "But my rescue lies at your feet, and I shall see you properly rewarded, for I am the son of the Duke of Heslov."
Uverel laughed. "What use have I for your gold and silver and copper. I live here and earn my keep and let the world turn itself. I cut my wood for sale at the markets and that lets me live well enough. Nay, I had money once many years ago, and it was taken from me and that was the greatest blessing of all."
"I am grateful the same." Andrew said. He had looked out the windows by now, this hut was surrounded by the woods and he didn't see the road. "Where am I?"
Uverel brought the platter of bread and meat to the table and placed it there. "Sit and eat, my Lord. I can but offer spring water for your drink."
"That will be more than sufficient." Andrew said.
"You are in my hut." Uverel said. "The King's road is down the hill a short ways. The village of Timmel's Crux is in the valley a few miles hence. I know not where you were bound."
"Merlemagne."
"Merlemagne is in that direction." Uverel said, pointing with the knife. He was cutting his own portion now. "But why do you hurry there; is your father or mother ill?"
"Nay." Andrew said. "My father lies ill, but the monks can do naught for him, they tell me. But I travel upon my own business there."
"A ducal heir who travels alone in these woods is either on secret business or a fool." Uverel said. Then he laughed again. "Or both."
"A little of both." Andrew admitted. "But you have been kind to me and I would repay you. Perhaps you'll let me recompense you in some way or other?"
"I need naught from you." Uverel said somewhat tersely. Then he chuckled. "At least, the only coin I would take from such an one as you would not be one you would pay."
Andrew was baffled. "But I am grateful; I owe you my life. Surely there is something I can offer you in return?"
Uverel flushed somewhat. "Perhaps I should say, I would not ask it from one who has endured what you did in the night."
Andrew was first puzzled, then comprehending. "Ah! Then you are asking of me that you and I...."
"I ask nothing from you!" Uverel said. "Eat, drink, stay a minute or a week, it is naught to me. You may do as you will." He stood up abruptly, tossed the remains of his plate of food out one of the windows and took it to a pan of water where he dipped it in.
Andrew stepped up behind him. "I may do as I will? You pledge that?"
"Of course." Uverel said. "You are my guest here."
"Then the song you were singing ere you entered this hut and saw me awake." Andrew said. "How goes the rest of it."
"It...it is a long ballad." Uverel said.
"Tell me of its ending, then." Andrew urged him.
"They spend the night together and Hamran is sad that his nobleman has left him. But later...."
"Later he finds out the only reason the nobleman had ridden past his shop twice each day was so that he may see Hamran at work." Andrew finished for him.
"You know the song?"
"My father sang it often enough." Andrew agreed.
"Then why ask it of me?"
Andrew reached about the burly chest, let his fingers touch those thick hairs there as he had longed to do. "So that you may remember that noblemen are still men." He plucked softly at the hairs, earning a grunt from the big man. "And the song of the heart sings equally within all."
"But...but the guards last night...." Uverel protested, though he didn't pull away from Andrew's arms which now had found his nipples and stroked them like the chordstrings of a mandolin.
"They have robbed their pleasure of me." Andrew agreed. "But they cannot rob me of all pleasure if I permit it not. They have stabbed my bowels, but they cannot touch my spirit save I give it them. It remains within me."
"You are Neresterii." Uverel breathed.
"I am Neresterii." Andrew agreed. "Now shall this nobleman command the commoner, and that is to turn about and take me in your arms."
The big man turned then and gave a loud, shouting laugh and scooped Andrew up in his arms, bodily lifting him by the waist until he was head and shoulders above the large man, until the top of his head brushed the thatch of the roof, and it sifted down its dust onto his head.
Andrew looked down into that hearty, red face and he laughed himself. He felt an infant in these big arms.
"Unless you plan to make love here in the roof thatch, I should like to be lowered."
"You shall, my Lord, but at a time and place of my choosing." Uverel blustered. Andrew was carried (he had to duck hastily twice to save his head from being slammed against the beams of the ceiling) over to the bed and Uverel sat down, and Andrew found himself in Uverel's lap.
Uverel ran his hands up beneath Andrew's shirt in the back and stroked Andrew's body, feeling the muscles and chasing their rippling movements as Andrew shivered from the strong feel, these fingers felt as if they could crush him should they choose, and the fact that they chose to touch him so gently made him quiver. He threw back his head and let a shuddering breath draw into his body, released it again in a shimmering rhapsody.
Uverel's fingers returned to Andrew's front, and there they tugged loose the lacings so recently done up by Andrew and the shirt opened willingly, and Andrew felt those broad digits as they played among his own chest hairs as if they were so many horses thundering across the meadows of his breast.
And Uverel's lips joined the dance, a pair of moist lovers that embraced in his field, encircling about his left nipple and turning it into a lovers' rock where they perched.
Andrew groaned and his hands came up and grabbed that strong neck and thrust it against his chest, rubbing it nilly-willy into his flesh, and Uverel's tongue lapped at him hungrily.
"Ah, my Lord, your flesh is as sweet as I thought it would be, rich from your rich foods and replete with the oils of your haunches of roast at every meal. I had heard this of noble flesh, but did not credit it ere now."
Andrew lifted up Uverel's hand and sucked one of the broad fingers into his mouth, nursed at it. Uverel let him do this, then thrust in another finger, and then a third, playing his fingers in and out of Andrew's mouth, letting Andrew moisten them until they dribbled with Andrew's saliva, dripped in broad white ripples down the hairy arm, showing their wake in a line of dark hairs plastered against the skin.
'Yes, my Lord, give me your moisture that I may prepare you." Uverel crooned. Andrew obeyed, knowing that next would happen what did; Uverel unfastening Andrew's pants until they bagged open on him (the tears of the cloth did not let them be repaired entirely, a wide central portion remained unclosed even when done up, unseen when worn and standing erect, it declared itself proudly when the ties were undone) and then he thrust that spit soaked hand down the small of Andrew's back and thrust it into the crevice of Andrew's buttocks.
Andrew rose up to permit easy access, with all the oils packed there already, this lubrication was wasted. Perhaps Uverel realized this, for he gave Andrew's anus a probe with a finger, then rapidly added two and then three, and feeling the way unimpeded, he growled, "And now, my Lord, if you will but rise up the more so that I may open my girthet, I shall place my manhood within you and let it rest there a time."
"May its rest be brief, and then let it be merry." Andrew smirked at this brief conceit and then, when he felt the girthet fall upon the pallet of straw beneath them, he lowered himself while fumbling behind him for a clutch on Uverel's dong, intending to guide it within himself.
When he found it, he was surprised, for at first he thought he had laid hold of Uverel's arm! Only when he grasped it more firmly did its true dimensions reveal itself. Andrew steered it like a ship in port into the harbor of his bowels, and felt the slippery smear of precome brush across his buttock as he guided it in.
Thank the heavens for that thick application of oil, for this prong was thirsty, drinking it up as it went inside of him, filling Andrew's bowels in a way that the guards' pricks had not, for this one was welcome in him, not an impertinent invader that ripped him inside in lieu of praying its access and being granted leave.
Instead, like a timid giant, it walked within Andrew's hall, and joy followed in its train. Andrew felt the small tears here and there from his violation, but it was like this friendly dong smoothed and soothed these rips, and they gladly let him pass them over unprotesting.
Joy filled Andrew with Uverel's prod, and when at last the shaft was within him entire, and the balls were perched like two footman just outside his door, Andrew felt this immense yet gentle pud just like its immense but gentle owner, and he groaned and reached down for those lips that raised up to meet him.
He kissed Uverel's wonderful face, feeling the tickle of Uverel's beard upon his chin and neck, the mustache brushed at his own smaller one, inundating his upper lip with hair, and Uverel's tongue darted into his mouth and Andrew sucked that soft plump guest within him, feeling alive at both ends of his body, letting the pleasure from within him swell up at its own pace, the slow way the tide raises itself up on the beach, claiming it little by little.
And now Andrew began to pump himself up and down upon Uverel's sturdy prong, loving the feel of that hard, velvet-dressed dick within him and Uverel watched this with a look akin to awe, that a nobleman would be in his embrace and more, would be straddle of him and riding and clutching his cock like a hungry calf milks its mother, and Uverel seemed to realize his situation then, and he let his body fall back to catch himself upon his two hands behind him, and he groaned out a lusty roar that was close brother to the hearty laughter that issued so easily from his lips.
Andrew's body quivered anew, now at the joy of the pleasure that comes from servicing a strong stud such as this one, the muscles of Uverel's body seemed able to communicate their strength to him and Andrew enjoyed the way his body had turned this strong giant of the forest into a vulnerable, softened, passion-ridden shadow of himself, this big, strong man was practically his prisoner, pinioned by his lust upon Andrew's body, which held him the way a shackle holds a prisoner's arm, and Andrew's body held Uverel's dong captive and Andrew didn't intend to let it go until it had paid its debt to him in full.
And that debt was being paid, for Andrew felt the heat emanating from Uverel's prong into his bowels, and that translated into joy that rippled through his body from within, surging and splashing about within his lower body, until the top half of him rocked in helpless abandon, adrift upon the sea of his pleasure, and Andrew bounced until his breaths were racked and tore at his chest in an effort to get in and out of him.
Perhaps he slowed down, perhaps Uverel simply wished to take control, for Andrew found himself being thrown back onto the bed and Uverel was riding up over him, the big, hairy, brawny body bent him into an oval, his legs pushed back against his chest, and Uverel began to hump at him, with both strong hands at Andrew's buttocks, holding up ass-upmost and Andrew looked up into Uverel's fiery eyes and though he felt submissive in this stance, he did not feel overwhelmed, he was safe here and the smallest word from him would end this; therefore he could indulge the joy of letting this massive, burly body use him as it would, feeling that hot cock plunging in and out of him with rapid motions, until his buttocks bruised, his body protested the doubled-up position, and still he held as he was and let Uverel take him.
The big man was flushing a startlingly strong shade of red as his breaths roared out of his mouth...or were those muffled grunts?...and he dropped to his knees, Andrew's legs were pulled out to wrap Uverel's back in lieu of Andrew's arms, and Uverel pumped Andrew in this position, Andrew admiring the play of Uverel's muscles as they all moved in harmony to thrust those hips back and forth, send that luscious dong in and out of him, that cock which was hotter than ever now, which was searing his bowels, the heat boiling his prostate, which was sending out urgent signals, begging for release, and there was only one way to release his body from this rack of human desire.
Andrew felt his orgasm surge up inside of him, he gave out some warning gasps, and Uverel fucked him harder, and Andrew moaned, blasted his load all over his chest and Uverel laughed in the middle of his own exertions, and Andrew felt the sound of that wonderful laugh combine with the joy of his passion, until the laugh became a part of the passion, a part of himself, and when he had done, exhausted, he felt the laughter rest upon his heart and find a niche there that it never intended to quit.
But this lassitude reckoned without Uverel, for Uverel let Andrew's body sink into compliance, and then he began to fuck Andrew heartily once more, roughly, but not in the manner of sadism, but that of simple rut, Uverel sent his boiling hot prong into Andrew's spent body and it surged inside of him to a massive size and Uverel groaned and Andrew felt the hot seed of Uverel's climax pour into him, while Uverel turned a positive red in the face and thrust maniacally into Andrew until his ejaculation ended, and Uverel collapsed, panting, atop Andrew's exhausted and totally fucked body.
Andrew felt Uverel's sweat pouring from him and onto Andrew, dripping in sizzling pools that burned into him, he felt completely in thrall to this big man, and when Uverel's lips, recovered, reached for a kiss post-coitus, Andrew gave it to him as more his due than as a choice of his own.
Uverel rested his head upon Andrew's chest for a moment, then raised up, gave a huge grin into Andrew's sweat-soaked face, wiped at Andrew's face with his broad, calloused palm, then kissed what was left of Andrew when he was done wiping at him.
"Hamran was a damned fool." he sighed.
"What was that?" Andrew was bemused by this.
"Hamran. The man in the song. Alatan came up and told him at the start he wanted Hamran. Why the devil did he think that Alatan was leaving him forever after that?"
"I don't know." Andrew admitted. "It's only a song, and people like their love songs to have sad parts, it seems to me."
"That is so." Uverel said. "Well, you have a journey to make. I hope you shall stop back here on your return."
"I shall indeed." Andrew said. "Though I know not when that shall be. It...it depends upon what I learn at Merlemagne."
"Well, Merlemagne is not over-far from here." the man said. "It lies at the headwaters of the Tenemon, and the Tenemon is the valley just beyond those hills yonder." He pointed out the window.
"Perhaps I could make it there by nightfall."
"Perhaps." Uverel said. "But if not, then be careful about the campfires you approach."
"I promise to stop at an inn well before sundown." Andrew said.
Uverel watched as Andrew adjusted his clothes, the big man seeming to bite back his words. When Andrew was ready, his sword back at his waist, Uverel said, "I hope that you find your heart's delight, just like the song of Hamran and Alatan."
"I hope it shall." Andrew said. "Won't you come to Heslov Hall this Christmas and spend the holiday with us. You can sing the ballad for us."
Uverel smiled. "I shall if the Archbishop does not forbid my travel to your lands." he said. Then, after a pause. "And perhaps I shall anyway, and let the Archbishop play host to the Devil for his Christmas supper."
Andrew smiled as he got on his horse and rode into the forest. He had to watch the trees for there was no trail up to this lone hut, and when he thought to look back, all he saw was leaves now reddened or yellowed. For winter was coming once again upon the land.
END OF CHAPTER THREE