Lancelot and the Wolf (2 page)

“
You need a woman,” she gasped. “Take your fill. We’ll have time for games later.”

I didn’t answer, I just grunted and held myself, pushing into her warm willing body. For a long moment, I held still. Many women need time to adjust to me and I always pause to enjoy their shock. She cried out, her fingers digging into my backside.

“
Oh, bloody hell, I knew you’d be worth the effort,” she grinned. “Fuck me.”

I did, hard. I knew I pushed to hard for her complete enjoyment but I needed England out of me. I needed something simple and uncomplicated. I needed to rut like an animal. It didn’t take long, heartbeats before the final rush hit me, I pulled out of her and she deftly flicked herself over to take me in her mouth. I came hard, crying out loudly and trying not to choke the poor woman. When the hurricane ended, I looked into confident, happy blue eyes.

“
That’s was kind of you,” she said. “You didn’t have to pull out.”

“
I know the risks you girls take. I have no wish to add to your problems by getting you pregnant,” I told her, brushing tangled blond hair from her face.

She kissed my lips, gently this time, a brief peep of the woman not the whore showing through, “It’s appreciated and whoever let you go to make you that desperate in my bed, was a fool of a woman.”

I laughed, “Is there no way of hiding a broken heart from a professional?”

She pulled my shirt over my head and kissed my chest, “No, no way, but with a body this fit I’ll take a broken heart and work hard to mend it.” She licked from my belly button over my tight stomach and up my chest. I climbed onto the bed and she turned to attend my back.

“
Oh, my God, what happened to you?” she gasped. I froze. For one blissful moment, I’d forgotten the healing scabs on my back.

I found words, they were rough, “I paid for sex not a commentary on my body.”

She recovered, “No, sorry, Sir, I had no right. We all carry scars, one way or another.”

In that moment, I wanted to run. Every muscle tightened to flee this damned woman and her prying eyes. What the hell must she think of me for looking like this?

Ever the professional and knowing she’d ruined the moment, the doxy rose from the bed and poured more wine. She smiled as she approached, “You look as though you are going to kill me,” she laughed. “Don’t be angry. It makes no difference to me what you’ve done or who you are. Just help me out of this damned dress and I’ll make you forget you ever had a life before this one.”

I drank the wine in one and the dress seemed to melt of her soft body. I soon found myself enveloped by long legs, warm breasts and a firm arse.

CHAPTER TWO

The sounds of a scuffle drifted through muddled dreams of deep green woods and white stags with wolves running as a pack alongside.

A small voice choked back a cry and a rough one snarled an order. I found myself unencumbered by my companion who snored softly on the edge of the bed. I rolled and came up on my feet. My head throbbed painfully at the sudden change of direction and my stomach rolled. My mouth felt like a leper’s armpit and I decided I didn’t need to know what happened outside.

A whimper and squeal had me reaching for my clothes, even as I told myself this was not my job. I opened the shutters over the window and peered out. I groaned at what I saw. The dawn just brushed the sky. I couldn’t have slept more than two hours. A boy, almost man sized stood with his face pressed into the wall of the tavern’s stable while two men held him still. One of the men fumbled at his crotch.

“
Shit,” I cursed and pulled on my boots. I opened the window wide, not wishing to break any of the expensive small glass panes and peered down. A wagon full of old laundry sat below me.

I turned, grabbed my sword and a knife before simply diving out the window. I didn’t even think, just twisted in the air and landed on my back in a woof of sheets. It protested madly. I grimaced and struggled out of the suffocating fabric. I fell to the floor and then scrambled upright.

I saw the glimpse of a blade at the boy’s throat and the wide eyes of panic as the man finally freed himself so he could make use of his tiny dick. I needed to distract them.

“
Hey, is this a free ride or are you charging?” I asked in my friendliest tone.

Both men turned to me and the knife dropped from the boy’s throat. All the invitation I needed. I wanted them done quickly and quietly before they woke the town, so I used the hilt of my sword to smash one in the face while I cut the throat of the other. Blood washed from the large gash but the man dropped without a sound. The boy twisted away, his legs tangled in his torn clothes and he dropped, huddling over himself instantly. I took the potential rapist by the hair and simply ran the knife over his throat. Done in seconds without a sound. My heart beat a little fast. I swallowed my need for more death, coming back from the edge of the battle frenzy slowly.

Arthur told me I killed too easily. He said I would go too far one day and lose myself to the death call. A small sound made me rush back to the real world.

The boy crouched in a heap, staring up at me in fear. He’d managed to dress. He had short scruffy warm brown hair and terrified brown eyes. He looked older than I first thought but didn’t seem to be shaving. His face all angles and he was skinny.

“
You alright?” I asked.

He blinked, “Yes,” although his right eye started to swell and I could see blood on his lips and down his chin. There were bruises colouring his neck and wrists.

I held my hand out to help him up but he ducked away and scrambled upright alone. His eyes were averted from me and the bodies, “Thank you, Sir.”

“
You the stable boy?” I asked.

“
I was,” he did look at the bodies then. His expression grim, “I guess I won’t be now, they are the sheriff’s men. I’ve been avoiding them for weeks.” His eyes suddenly filled with tears and he folded in on himself. My heart melted.

“
Damn it,” I said softly. I knew, whatever the rights and wrongs of the matter, when they found these bodies, which they would, they’d find the boy and he’d give them me. He was alone and scared. As a stranger in the town carrying scars on my back, evidenced my bed warmer and looking like a fighter, I’d draw all the wrong attention.

“
You know this place inside?” I nodded at the tavern.

“
Yes, Sir,” came a soft reply.

“
My room is the one above the cart, go and find everything. The girl is not to be disturbed, the coin on the floor and in the bed,” I thought about it for a moment. “Find as much as you can but leave a fair share for her. Then meet me at the horse market. If you aren’t there by the time the town gates are open I’m leaving alone and you can shift for yourself. Understand?” I had no idea what the hell I thought I was doing. The last thing I needed was another problem in my life.

I turned to move the bodies and I heard a sharp intake of breath. I’d forgotten about my shirt, again. “Get a fucking move on,” I snapped.

The boy glanced at my face and ran to the tavern. He’d know how to enter the place quickly and quietly. I reached down, grabbed the ankles of one of the stinking rapist bastards and hauled him into an empty stable. His friend followed. I pulled a coat off one of the bodies, shook out the lice and hoped my wounds were still closed. I didn’t feel blood whispering down my skin so I assumed I wouldn’t pick up an infection. My arms were too long for the coat, but it would do for the few minutes I needed to reach the horse market. With the streets still quiet in the pre dawn light, I ran to the edge of the town, just inside the walls.

A small wooden house sat surrounded by horse pens and everything associated with horses. I banged on the door, “Dillon, you old horse thief, wake up,” I yelled as loudly as I dared. Muttered curses, several loud crashes later and the door opened.

“
What the bloody hell,” came the angry voice from an angry face.

“
Dillon, I need Ash and I need a good safe gelding,” I said point blank. “Oh and it’s great to see you.”

“
Lancelot?” he rubbed sleep from his one good eye and stared up at me. He smiled, the mouth full of gold. I wondered how many of those teeth I paid for over the years. “What do you want that beast for now? It’s still dark.”

“
It’s not dark, you just drank too much,” I told him, encouraging him out of his small house and into the yard. I knew how he felt.

“
Ha,” he said, “And I thought for sure you’d died this time and I’d get to sell that monster of yours.”

“
I gave you gold for at least a year of keep and it’s only been ten months, don’t exaggerate,” I said.

Dillon the horse trader grinned, “You certain it was a year’s keep? You are in an awful hurry for a year’s keep.” He eyed my clothing.

I groaned, “Fine, but the gelding better be good.”

Dillon, his beady eyes shining with a new deal, stomped off on his short fat legs to find a stable boy to help with Ash. I followed him, if I left Dillon’s boy to attend the horse alone I’d be waiting another hour at least. No one should have to deal with Ash but me, so the least I could do was try to saddle the brute.

Just as we reached a stable yard, I heard a scrabbling behind me. I turned with my hand already on my sword hilt. The boy from the tavern appeared with my things.

“
Here, Sir,” he panted. My saddlebags and bedroll were all in perfect order, with my shirt, doublet, cloak and a bag I didn’t recognise slung over the boy’s shoulder.

I blinked in surprise, “That was quick.”

“
I am, Sir.”

“
Can you manage a warhorse?” I asked.

“
Yes, Sir,” came a confident reply, just as a yell issued from the stable and I heard Ash’s trademark neigh, or snarl, if horses did snarl.

“
Find that horse and saddle him,” I said, taking my belongings from the boy. His right eye had almost swollen shut but he ran for the stables.

In no short order I’d bought a fine looking chestnut gelding with saddle and bridle all in. I’d also bought equipment for the road, such as cooking pots and something to put in them. The boy appeared with Ash, my horse, whom I left with Dillon every time I travelled to England for a short time. This trip had meant to be short but my arrest kept me occupied for quite a while. I hated forcing the crossing on my equestrian companion. It seemed however, that I now travelled with a boy dedicated to the dark arts of horse management. My foul tempered stallion followed the lad meek as a lamb. Dillon stared in shock, as did his stable hand.

I handed the reins of the gelding to my boy and said, “This is, Mercury.”

My stallion gnashed his bit in protest at the company. Ash had belonged to me for five years. I’d won him in a card game and wondered why his owner didn’t seem to mind. The colour of wood ash, with a black mane and tail, he hated everyone. I kept him because he’d given up hating me most of the time and he was the finest damn horse I’d ever ridden. He had my back in a fight and knew exactly how I would move into an enemy when we faced one together. We didn’t love each other but respect goes a long way in my game.

I took my own reins and mounted before the damned stallion nipped my backside. He danced in circles and pulled on the bit. “He’s grown fat,” I said to Dillon.

“
He’s the devil’s own horse, that one,” said the trader, watching the boy mount. The town gates opened. I waved a farewell to Dillon and rode calmly out of le Havre.

CHAPTER THREE

We hit the open road and I allowed Ash his head. We raced into the morning, the smaller lighter Mercury keeping pace well. The boy did know his horses, he rode strongly. After a league, we reined back the horses, they were sweating hard and my hangover had finally faded. I turned to my companion.

“
So, having risked my neck to save your arse, what’s your name boy?” I asked.

“
Else, Sir,” came the quiet reply.

“
Unusual, but alright, it’s your name and call me, Lancelot. I am not a, sir, not anymore,” I said. Ash shifted under me sensing my sudden tension tighten his reins. I relaxed.

“
Thank you, Lancelot,” Else said. My name sounded strange on the boy’s tongue and I glanced at him. I realised someone had done a hatchet job on his hair and his hands were narrow, his wrists small. He looked almost delicate. Beautiful with those long lashes over soft brown eyes. He had full lips under the swelling and slim hips.

I raised an eyebrow, “I can see why you had trouble with those men.”

He glanced at me and I saw the fear instantly flash through his face. I spoke quickly, “No, don’t worry, Else, it’s not my style.” A memory surfaced from my past and I squashed it flat. Thinking about Arthur never helped. “But with a face like that you will need to learn to fight.”

“
I can fight,” his light voice trembled slightly.

“
Then you will learn to fight better,” I said as kindly as I could.

We rode in silence for a long time before I grew bored with the sound of the horse’s steps. “How long had you been at the tavern?” I asked.

“
Three months, Sir,” he paused, “Lancelot.”

“
You are good with Ash,” I said.

“
He just needs someone to love,” Else said fondly and reached out to pat the warhorse’s neck.