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RAMPANT extreme precaution Is the territory through
Rampant {Pendragon} (Mf wl hist 1st cons)
IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18, or otherwise forbidden by law to
read electronically transmitted erotic material, please go do
something else.
This material is Copyright, 1998, Uther Pendragon. All
rights reserved. I specifically grant the right of downloading
and keeping ONE electronic copy for your personal reading so long
as this notice is included. Reposting requires previous
permission.
If you have any comments or requests, please E-mail them to
me at anon584c@nyx.net.
All persons here depicted, except public figures depicted as
public figures in the background, are figments of my imagination
and any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly
coincidental.
# # # #
RAMPANT
by Uther Pendragon
anon584c@nyx.net.
Chapter One
July 2, 1213
Elizabeth was supervising the sweeping out of the winter rushes
from the living quarters when she heard the horn from the gate.
Mother had taken charge of the great hall and the rest of the
keep, and Maria was "helping" Elizabeth.
"A raid?" Maria asked anxiously. Elizabeth missed the little
sister who had greeted all the world with love the previous
summer. Since then, winter raiders caught a peasant who had
tended Maria on many excursions into the fields and villages.
Maria still told of nightmares concerning the sword-chopped body.
Elizabeth, who suspected that swords were not all that had
penetrated the girl, kept her own bad dreams to herself.
"Never borrow trouble, little sister," she said. "Would raiders
ride up to the gatehouse to announce their presence?" If it were
a formal siege, she knew, they were in serious trouble. Her
father, two of their three knights, and all but one squire were
out hunting. How else would it have been possible for her to be
in the knights' quarters?
"Argent, second quarter griffin rampant, gules," a at arms
bellowed, repeating the call from the gatehouse. Some offshoot
of the Danclaven, then; the whole duchy knew the griffin.
"Ten riders, four on foot."
"Girls! Come down immediately!" called.
"Is it war then?" Elizabeth asked. Those numbers did not sound
like war to her. Besides, they were entitled to a week's
warning.
"Worse," replied. "We are provisioned for siege, but not
for hospitality to the Danclavens." Far off the traveled ways,
they gave little hospitality to any but their nearest neighbors
and their liege lord, Count Descries.
"I want you to go upstairs on our side and dress in your
finest."
"Yes mother. Come Maria, dost thou want to bathe first?" That
was a safe offer, as Maria treated bathing as an ordeal to be
postponed.
"Thou canst not have any of the baths. I shall have to offer
them to our guests, to wash their feet at least."
"Mother, please look at me! Will wrapping my best clothes over
this really impress?"
"Thou art right. Wash thou Maria as best thou can and see to
dressing her. I shall send a bath up before thou art to come
down. Take thy time, and thou shouldst wear my blue pellison and
thy silk bliaut. Now go! I have to greet our guests."
The servants being too busy preparing the space for the guests,
Elizabeth was the one who arranged Maria's hair. Then, having
been trained since she was Maria's age that no one can supervise
work unless that person can perform it at need, she swept out the
rushes on that floor herself. She needed the bath more than ever
by the time that a party of servants brought a tub and the
buckets of water upstairs. Only Helga stayed to bathe her.
While she was drying off, brought three more maids
upstairs. She dunked herself in the bath before being dressed
hurriedly. "Take some care with her hair," she said before
disappearing down the stairs. Having their orders, the four took
some time with Elizabeth's hair. When they were done, half of it
hung down her back weighted with a cloth-of-gold and pearl piece
of Mother's. The other half was in counter-circling braids
making a coronet on her brows.
She was already wearing a white linen shift that just covered her
knees. They held the pellison while she put her arms through the
sleeves. It was Mother's and the edges wrapped to her sides.
They fastened a girdle around it so the bottom edge was raised up
to her ankles. When that satisfied everybody, she raised her
arms for the bliaut. They tied it so it fit tightly from her
waist to just under her breasts. The looseness above that, she
knew, implied an abundance which she did not yet possess.
Her had objected to that the last time it was done, but
she was careful not to mention that. It was long past time to
show her figure; she would be fifteen, and marriageable, this
month. The horn was sounding for dinner when she came
downstairs. She scurried across the courtyard but did not reach
the company until they had paused at the washstands.
"Ah," said, "the last member of the family. My lord and
gentles, may I present my lady Elizabeth? Elizabeth,
this is Sir Karl of Danclaven, Sir Hector, Sir George. Frederik
is squire to Sir George as Paul is to Sir Hector and Roger is to
sir Karl." She curtsied to them all, and noted their bows as
their names were said. The last named squire was a boy, the
first named one was an armiger who looked than the first-
named knight. Sir George and Sir Hector looked a little younger
than Father, but appeared dangerous to cross and used to
command.
Sir Karl was tall, fair haired, and clean-shaven in the new
fashion. She thought that he could not be much past twenty,
although his face was grave for one so young. She shared
porringer and cup with him at table. "And will we have the
pleasure of thy company for long?" she asked.
"Alas, no," he said in a deep, pleasant voice. "We must leave in
the morning. Sir Benedict Descries was a squire of my father's.
He was very friendly to a at that time. I am on my way
to pay my respects to him on his name day. It is the first such
occasion since I was knighted, and the celebration is in the
castle of his the Count."
"Our loss is thy gain. I hear that the valley is at its most
beautiful this time of year."
"So I have heard, but the scenery pales before what can be seen
here." She looked around the hastily-decorated great hall
incredulously before realizing that she had been paid a
compliment. Then she decided to make her error into policy.
"Thou givest our poor decorations great honor."
"Oh, thy keep is a pretty enough setting, but the imperial court
itself would not be worthy of the jewel it holds."
Elizabeth felt very warm. The fire was close and Mother's
pellison contained more fur than she was used to. Even so, she
suspected that the company contributed as much to that feeling as
the clothing. She looked down at the porringer. She had been
taking the coarser bits of meat off the chunk of bread to leave
the dainty ones for the guest; he had obviously been doing the
same for the lady. She took a bit of meat anyway, and chewed it
slowly.
Her rescued her. "Glad as we are for your company and
happy to serve guests of my liege count, I cannot believe that we
are on the direct route to Castle Descries from anywhere."
"Well, my lord, nowhere that honest dwell. But I asked Sir
Hector to show me the south side of the mountains. He has been
this way before, and has been showing me the roads."
"I hope," Elizabeth found herself saying, "that thou dost not go
too far into the forests. They are infested with reivers." Then
she bit her tongue. He would think her casting doubt on his
valor.
"Indeed they are," was his only answer.
"That is why we are in haste now," Sir George put in. "We
crossed the trail of a small band of those bandits, and it took
us three days out of our path to catch them."
"I will give a trial to those miscreants as thou didst ask," said
Father. "Really, no-one would have minded if thou hadst hanged
them out of hand."
"It would have been abrogating thy rights, my lord," said Sir
Karl. "The swordplay was one thing; but once those four
surrendered, it was a matter of doing justice. And the right of
doing justice on thy lands is not mine."
Elizabeth watched the party of ten ride out from the castle after
a hearty breakfast the next morning. Her waited until
after dinner, though, before discussing the visit with her. Sir
Daniel, Father's seneschal, stayed with them. The knight was
more than second-in-command of the castle; he was the family's
most trusted adviser. "Well, Elizabeth," asked, "What
didst thou think of Sir Karl?"
"A very worthy knight, from the little that I saw, and very
gently spoken." If she had volunteered an opinion of a knight,
Father would have upbraided her for making the comment. A
positive answer, however, seemed quite safe.
"That is all very well," said Father, "but they will want
Festmauer, and I have two sons and another daughter." Festmauer
was a small stronghold on the Spait river which held from
a baron. Her William was Father's castelan there. What
it had to do with the visit, she could not tell.
"If they want Festmauer," said Sir Daniel, "they will find a way
to have Festmauer. Far better that they have Festmauer as a
dowry than as a conquest." Which explained what it had to do
with the visit, and why she was here. "I would suggest that thou
offerest it as a fief from thee."
"Even so," said Father, "Baron Guy will not like that transfer."
"He will not. But neither will he object formally, and he will
attend the wedding." Apparently her casually polite statement
that Sir Karl was a very worthy knight was her acceptance of the
engagement. "He does not want a quarrel with the Danclavens.
That could cost him his own castle, ducal fief or no ducal fief."
These were weighty issues, not to be decided quickly. The talk
went on for another hour, and was not concluded even then. As to
her own mind, it was even less settled.
Elizabeth wanted to be wed and mistress of her own hall; her body
had begun whispering to her of unexplored mysteries well before
it began bleeding eight months before. Neither her interest in
the religious life nor her never-expressed infatuation with one
of her father's previous squires -- now Sir Henry -- had lasted
long. There was no competing interest, and Sir Karl had been
impressive and well-spoken. She could easily grow to love him.
A daughter-in-law of the Viscount of Danclaven would have more
social prestige than any other match that she could envisage.
And there was safety, besieging a Danclaven-held tower at the
edge of Danclaven land was an undertaking which even a ducal army
might shun. He was young, as well; she did not think that she
would like sharing the bed of an as he decayed, and many
young wives did that.
She wanted to be a mother, she could see the joy (and power)
which that brought; but she remembered Mother's suffering from
the birth of Robert. Her baby had been quite reluctant
to enter the world. And she was not sure that she was ready to
be a wife; her body could whisper of mysteries all it wished, she
could dream of running a household, but a was property of
her husband in a very intimate way. Father, Mother, William
(and, for that matter, the seneschal) could order her about; she
served the Count on his annual visit and helped to bathe his
knights; but those orders were far from *her*. She had seen Sir
Karl once; did she wish to give control over her body, possession
of her body, intrusion into her body, to him?
"Mother," she asked a few days later, "did Sir Karl truly ask for
my hand?"
"There was nothing that definite, daughter. Indeed, it may have
been as they said. On a trip they caught some reivers; they
handed them over to the lord of the land on which they had caught
them; they continued on their trip. Certainly the guest-gifts
they gave us were some of the arms of that band. But think a
minute. This was a friend of the count's son, he could have made
a report to the count of his doings and been praised for it.
They trailed the party from a burned village on the lands of
Baron Hugh, returning them there would have brought great praise.
It is likelier that they planned to stop here all along, and thou
mightest well be the reason for those plans. Thou hast seen him,
he has seen thee, wert thou well satisfied with him?"
"I just feel..." she waved her hands.
"Well, we may have heard more than they said. But, if they do
offer, waving thy hands will make no difference."
At one time, she had ridden the shoulders of Sir Daniel as often
as Maria did these days. Their relationship had been much more
formal this past year. The seneschal's duty, even so, was to
give advice; and she knew that he would not lie to her. "My lady
Elizabeth?" he greeted her. The "my lady" in front of her name
had once been a rarity from him, saved for the most formal
occasions and the most outrageous teasing. Since the first time
that she bled, however, he had never omitted it.
"Sir Daniel, I seem to have a suitor whom I have seen but twice.
What knowest thou of this Danclaven?"
"This one was knighted recently by the Duke's son," he replied.
"I saw him not all that much more than thou didst. The is
well known, and he seems to fit the reputation."
"But thou hast more knowledge of that reputation than I do. What
I remember of the tales before the fire is all about war. I am
not in danger of being besieged by the Danclavens, but of being
wed to one of them. What say the about that?"
"Little enough. Which, after all, is good news. The first of
the to hold Castle Dan wed the widow of the previous
holder and then her daughter. No one suggests that the women
wished to wed the slayer of the husband or father. Recent
generations, however, have had no rumors about their marriages
except for a good many widows joining the cloister. If the
family had the habit of locking up their wives or beating them
unmercifully, we would have heard." Beating one's to a
reasonable degree, she knew, was within the husband's right.
"The Danclavens have," he continued, "as you say, something of a
reputation involving sieges. No castle that they held has fallen
to siege. They have taken more by siege than any count in the
duchy. A more remarkable fact is that we speak of this as
a unit. There is no of the son making war against the
father or the younger against the older. These facts
work together; besiege *a* Danclaven and you war against *the*
Danclavens. And it goes the other way; they can always find some
fief for any of that name, even cousins. And that is possible
because their holdings have increased as rapidly as their
family."
Sir Daniel had a great deal more to tell. He spoke of the
family's reputation for tightfistedness, including a total
aversion to dice. Many said that the Danclavens were much more
calculating than a good, reckless, knight should be. Not to the
point of cowardice, he hastened to add; Danclavens led the rushes
that went with their successful sieges. Many felt that their
sergeants, mounted men-at-arms, were better trained and better
armed than base were entitled to be. "Even so," he noted
wryly, "no lord who can levy the Danclavens ever excluded their
sergeants."
Elizabeth much more information than that to ponder, but she
thought that it did not really deal with the point of her
worries. Sir Karl would probably be a brave-but-prudent knight,
not overly generous, respectful of the church but careful of his
interests relative to church lands, and vicious towards reivers.
That was all well and good, but what sort of *husband* would he
be?
She heard no more of this, however, and she turned her attention
to other concerns. Her gave her her very own sparrowhawk
for her fifteenth birthday. She named it Saebelin, and spent
long hours in the mews learning to care for the bird. She looked
forward to afternoons hunting with Father, but she learned how
much later that came than habituating the hawk to her presence.
Their neighbors knew that she was now of marriageable age, and
her received a few feelers. None of the matches suggested
appealed to her parents, and none of the appealed much to
her. Sir Karl, at least, was an unknown quantity rather than a
widower who had mismanaged two dowries already, or a pimple-faced
youth sufficiently her junior to require several years of
waiting. The question was whether Sir Karl was interested.
The Danclavens were interested... interested in Festmauer at
least. Before the rains closed the roads, Sir George was back.
It was difficult to tell from his combination of elaborate
compliments and stiff bargaining whether Sir Karl was begging his
family for this bride or reluctantly acceding to their wishes.
One question was what would get for Festmauer above what
he owed Baron Guy for the fief. The three knights plus their
attendants for forty days whether Baron Guy required them or not
was a given.
Sir George rode home In October with the understanding that both
sides were interested. Later feelers from the neighborhood were
answered with regrets. Although agreement had not been reached,
and a fine enough offer from another would have been
considered, fully expected to close the bargain and hold
the engagement in the spring. Instead, the Emperor decided to
invade France. The Duke, needing help from the Emperor on other
issues, called every levy to join in the war.
Private business was suspended while preparations were made, but
finally the troops gathered in June. Elizabeth had never
considered her an until she saw him on his return
from Bouvines. "William is a prisoner," he told her. "As for
thy suitor, I heard that the Count of Danclaven lost his son."
The castle was in too much bustle trying to raise William's
ransom to celebrate Elizabeth's sixteenth birthday properly, much
less mourn a who had visited once the year before. Elizabeth
felt guilt over her selfish thoughts about her missed celebration
and missed opportunity. Lying awake in bed after Maria had
fallen asleep, though, she wept for the life she might have had
and the knight who could have been her husband. Possible suitors
began to be hinted more seriously, although the could not
afford a wedding when it would be in debt for the ransom nor
reasonably levy an "aid" for both at the same time.
Then, one day, the gatekeeper called: "Argent, second quarter
griffin rampant, gules." She rushed down, not believing that
this could be he, but it was.
"Thou livest?" she said. "We had heard otherwise." Then she bit
her tongue. That was not the fittest greeting she could have
given.
"My died at Bouvines," he answered. "Would that I had
died in his stead!" He looked as though he meant that.
"My lord will forgive us, I hope," said, "for not sharing
that wish. We welcome thee and thy company."
At that point, Sir Karl introduced those who had not visited
before, including his new squire, Philip. "Who served my
well while Robert lived."
Elizabeth helped her bathe the feet of the knights. She
sat between and Sir George at supper, as well, while her
mother shared cup and porringer with Sir Karl. She was a poor
companion, thinking only of the three seats along from her.
Soon after supper, she went up to bed. She lay awake beside
Maria. Karl was alive; apparently they were to wed. All her
fears of the past month were swept away, but other fears
returned.
She was to be wed, to lie under Karl and have him enter her. It
was an exciting thought, and she remembered all that the priests
said about the evil of that excitement. But it was also a
sobering thought. She tried herself down there, not for the
first time. Her little finger went in easily, her forefinger fit
with difficulty. She had been sneaking peeks when visiting
knights were offered full baths, she knew that their members were
of somewhat different sizes. None, however, were as thin as her
finger. The first time was painful, she had heard. Would it be
especially painful for her?
Even if it were, it would be nothing to the pain of childbed.
And that, she knew, followed the other. Whatever the future,
however, the matter was settled. One whole set of worries was
over. She thought of William, then, and guiltily slipped out of
bed. She prayed for his release, even though his ransom would
necessarily delay her own wedding.
On the morrow, she learned the opposite. Her drew her
aside after mass. "I know that thou hast been of two minds about
this marriage, although I could not see why. Well, it is too
late to wave thy hands now. Thy suitor will lend us the entire
ransom for William. Festmauer will be his under Baron Guy, not
as a fief from us. If thou dost reject this marriage now, thou
dost condemn thy to longer imprisonment."
"Mother, I give my consent."
"There speaks a loving sister. Although I can hardly think of a
better marriage for thee."
"Can Christians lend to Christians?"
"Lending is not forbidden, only interest. Which is why so few
will lend. But we must hurry this wedding. William will
languish in Champagne until it is accomplished."
But Karl had been more generous than that. The engagement was
two days later, with the wedding planned for early September.
Then he returned to Castle Clavius to send the ransom on from
there.
William was freed in time to come to the wedding. His presence
gladdened her heart more than that of the Duke's son, the Counts
of Gitneau and Descries, and the officiating bishop of St. Basil.
Karl's father, his eldest remaining brother, and many of their
knights and vassals came, as well as most of her family's
neighbors. The hospitality and the ceremonies occupied her
thoughts all day and even during what waking time she had some of
the nights. The incredibly long wedding mass was the first time
she could draw a quiet breath in the whole month. Even then, she
was supposed to be following the service. Then that service drew
to a close.
The bishop kissed Karl, and Karl kissed her. Somehow his kiss
felt different than kisses from others had. Then Karl and she
led the way to the feast. They sat together under the canopy
each pulling up tidbits to give to the other. He pressed the cup
on her again and again, and she was quite giddy by the time they
rose for the dances. She stumbled once or twice in these, but
Karl was there to steady her. She had sobered completely,
though, by the time she followed him into another tent. They
knelt there while a priest blessed the bed, then the left
while the women stripped her and put her to bed.
The constant bustle, the dressing, the congratulations and
ceremony and dancing, had kept her mind off this moment. She
wanted to be a wife, the head of her own household; she wanted to
be a Danclaven, one whom reivers feared rather than fearing them;
she wanted to be to Karl, who was impressive and handsome
and clever. She was less sure that she wanted his body on hers
and in hers, however. She was entirely sure that she did not
want the pain that she knew would come with his first entrance.
Now she lay wondering about this and worrying about it. She
wished the would bring Karl back and end her worry; she
wished they would stay away forever and delay her pain.
Only minutes after the women had left, however, the were
back. They shoved Karl forward as he laughed and pushed back at
them. He was soon stripped and was pushing his friends towards
the tent's entrance. "And *tie* it, Roger," he called.
"On my oath," Roger piped from the crowd outside. Karl turned
back towards the bed. He was a truly handsome man, with a tan
from neck to waist much lighter than his face. His muscles
worked cleanly under his skin, and he was without obvious scars.
She tried to concentrate on broad shoulders, solidly muscled
chest and belly, and gracefully striding legs. All she could
really see was the projection from his center. It seemed so very
large and seemed to be growing larger. And it seemed pointed,
that couldn't be right. It was rising from the horizontal as he
approached the bed.
When he joined her there and covered himself, she could finally
look into his face. There was kindness in his look and a more
than a little laughter. He must have thought that she was
looking at him with lust; she felt herself blush crimson. He
kissed her cheek. "What passes between us," he whispered, "is
between us, save that this night thou needest bleed." She
blushed again, and shivered. That thought had been preying on
her mind, and he had brought it to the forefront.
He kissed her, then, on the lips. The sensations were quite
different from those brought by the kisses of Mother, her sister,
and her nurse. He licked her lips before moving his kisses to
chin and neck. These sensations, as well, were new. His arm
about her waist reminded her that neither of them wore anything.
The hands of the maids, who worked in the fields during the
harvest and wove or spun the rest of the time, had never been
soft; but this hand, rubbed by reins when it was not gripping a
shield, was much more callused. It passed up her side as his
lips kissed down her throat. The hand reached her right
as his mouth reached her left. She felt an excitement that she
could not really identify, as if the wine were still having its
effect.
When he began licking at her nipples, the excitement was much
stronger, so strong that it frightened her. "My lord," she
exclaimed.
He drew back for a minute. "Thy husband," he corrected. That
was true. "Thou art so beautiful," he said. He was looking at
her breasts, the blanket having dropped to their waists. The
tent contained a dozen lamps, more obvious now with the outside
truly dark.
His hand left her for a moment, but only to stroke down to
her waist and beyond. Her legs came together without her
thinking about them. His hand stopped just before the juncture
and played with her curls. "So very beautiful," he said again.
She wanted to be beautiful, she wanted him to think her
beautiful; but she did *not* want him looking at her breasts.
She got that wish soon enough, for he went back to lipping her
nipple. The feelings grew stronger and concentrated below where
his fingers were stroking her hair. Then he kissed her mouth
again. That brought his hairy chest across her wet and throbbing
nipple. The sensations of mouth and came together to join
those from his fingers teasing her between her spread legs. When
had she spread them? she wondered as she brought them back
together.
"We are married. Thou shouldst know that," he said quietly.
"Thy mind may have wandered in church, but hadst thou not noticed
that much?"
"Yes my lord, ... my husband." She spread her legs again, but
his hand lay still. It, however, held her where no one else had
ever touched her. He gasped when her leg brushed against his
projecting organ. The motion of his chest hair on her nipple,
which was somehow more sensitive than it had ever been before,
tickled and excited her.
He kissed her again, lightly this time. "Is more of this
touching going to make my entry any easier for thee?" he asked
gently.
"No, my lord," she answered. Then, having remembered what the
alternative was, she almost corrected herself. It would have
been untrue, though; and she wanted to deal with her new husband
with honesty.
While her mind was poised between two answers, his body had been
moving between her legs. He reached out to the nearest lamp and
snuffed its wick. That hand was covered with oil when he touched
her. Looking down between them, she decided that he could never
fit. He stroked himself once with the oily hand and then fit
himself against her. He straightened above her and looked into
her eyes. His hand came up to cover her mouth just before he
drove forward. Her scream was muffled but heartfelt; he was
inside her and it *hurt*.
"That was the worst of it," he whispered. "I think it will
less if thou dost raise and spread thy knees more." She did as
he directed, and the pain did ease. It was hardly the worst pain
that she had ever felt, but it was more personal than most. "I
shall try to be brief," he said quietly.
His motion renewed the sting, but not enough to distract her from
his face inches from hers. He looked at her with consideration,
then with concentration. His gaze unfocused, as if he could see
through her. He looked worried, then agonized, as his motion
sped; this motion increased her pain but not to the original
level. Then he drove deeper into her and groaned. She could
feel him filling and throbbing in a part of her that she had not
known she had. Then he lay gasping on her, pressing her deep
into the feathers.
Soon after, he withdrew. "Sit up for a moment," he said. She
did, and an echo of the sting returned where the sheet met her
torn flesh. There was also a dripping there, as if the moon were
in a different phase. "That will attest to thy honor," he said.
"Does my lady want to see?" She did not; she could tell that she
was bleeding. "Canst thou sleep with those lamps?" he asked.
She was certain that she would not sleep that night, but the
lamps had nothing to do with it. She nodded. He lay back down
and took her in his arms. "Sleep, then. That pain will not come
again. We can deal with the pleasure another night." All the
worry as to whether he would fit, she thought briefly, was the
wrong question. It was like worrying if the doorway to a peasant
hut was wide enough for a battering ram to pass through.
She drew the blanket up to cover them, although more for modesty
than for warmth. Thinking that she could not possibly sleep in
his arms, she planned to move from them once he was asleep.
Maria, whatever her faults as a bedmate, had kept apart except in
the coldest weather. When she was awakened by thunder in the
night, however, she was wrapped in his arms. With the air
getting chillier, she burrowed back against him. The stiffness
pressed into her hip worried her for an instant, but when he made
no move she relaxed.
So this is marriage, she thought before she returned to sleep.
Chapter Two
September 6, 1214
Elizabeth awoke, the air she was breathing was distinctly chill.
All the lamps had gone out in the tent in which she had spent her
wedding night.
The tent fabric was slightly lighter than where she was in the
bed. There was a fur as well as sheet and blanket over her and
Karl. She was enclosed in his arms. Indeed one of his hands was
holding her breast. She pushed against it, to no avail. It was
like trying to lift a portcullis. His response to her attempt
was a kiss between her shoulder blades.
"We will have visitors any minute," she warned him.
"Yes," he responded, "and they need to find us abed. By the way,
wert thou gladdened by thy brother's presence?"
"Very much so." It was a rather dutiful response; she was
thinking more of the coming inspection.
"He must have changed some from the who bedeviled thee when
thou wert young."
"He was never like that," she answered. "He was six years older,
after all, and seldom home after I turned eight. Margaret was
closer to his age, and may have quarreled with him more often,
but even she looked forward to his visits while he was a squire.
Me, he would toss in the air until I screamed, but it was never
*real* fright."
"Margaret?"
"My sister. She died three years ago."
"My lord!" Karl's squire called from without.
"Let them in, Roger," Karl answered.
The crowd jostled in, stripped off the bedclothes, and looked at
the spot of blood on the sheet. She thought that it was very
small, but no one else commented.
"I'll freeze," she complained. It was much colder than it had
been on the previous morning. Then too, everyone was dressed but
the two of them.
"She's right," said Count Descries. "Let the Danclavens dress in
peace." It sounded strange, but the count was right. She was a
Danclaven now.
Mother had sent two servants with a change of clothing. Roger
dressed Karl and they all went off to mass. It was longer than
usual for a weekday, but not nearly so solemn as the marriage
service. She knelt during the chanting and asked God to make her
a good wife.
A crowd was waiting as they came out; one of the sergeants
scattered coins among them crying "from the bride." Roger did
the same, except he called "from the groom." One of Father's
falconers brought Saebelin to her. had explained that it
just would not do to have her sparrowhawk on her wrist on her
wedding day. She had not explained why it would not do, however;
many of the guests had held theirs.
After breakfast, Karl did homage to Baron Guy for Festmauer, her
dowry. "Well, my wife," he said after the ceremonies, "Festmauer
is indeed ours. Dost thou think that Sir William would be a good
castelan there?"
"Oh, my lord! Could he be?" She was going to live more than a
hundred miles from her family. Her William, at least,
would be closer. He would have business with his overlord, as
well.
"Let's find if he has other plans," was all Karl's answer. She
knew quite well that he didn't. He had been Father's castelan at
Festmauer. He had enjoyed being in charge of his own domain,
however small; and he had chafed at being back in his father's
hall, however welcome he was. "Roger!"
"My lord."
"Be so good as to find Sir William, my lady wife's brother. Ask
him to attend us in ... " he looked at her. "Where would be a
good open place to meet?" The rain had stopped, and he clearly
had no desire to be within walls.
"The hayfield by the frog pool," she said. William would
remember where that was.~
"The hayfield by the frog pool," Roger repeated.
"And now," Karl said, "why not lead me there?" She took his
finger in her right hand and led him onward. Saebelin, on her
left wrist, wanted to be as far from Karl's great gyrfalcon as
possible. It seemed less fear than a sense of inadequacy.
Elizabeth could understand. She felt somewhat the same way about
the falcon's master. He was so strong, so strange to her, and --
right now -- so silent.
Made anxious by his silence, she told him about the pool where
the stream widened out and almost became a bog and the pleasure
that the children had there hunting frogs. He seemed content to
listen until their path led through a copse.
There he grasped her by her wrist and stopped her. "Do I talk
overmuch?" she asked. He nodded, then pulled her to him for a
deep, searching kiss. He reached under her cloak and pressed her
to him with his hand on her back. Then he reached below her
girdle to clench and unclench on her hip. She felt a fluttering
in her belly and she felt hot in his embrace despite the weather.
Oddly, her nipples hardened against her shift as if she were
chilled through. He left her mouth to kiss her face and
forehead. When he released her, she was not certain that she
wanted him to do so. She took a deep breath, remembered where
she was, and led him forward in silence. She was a matron now,
and would learn to guard her words.
"And," he asked a minute further along the trail, "did any of you
ever actually catch frogs?"
"William did once, and Margaret found one which must have been
injured.... I thought that thou didst not want me talking."
He pulled her to him again. "I thought..." the kiss was light on
her lips... "that there were more..." this kiss was longer and
firmer against her mouth... "pressing?..." he kissed her deeply
this time, and licking her lips open before continuing -- he was
holding her so that her side was pressed against his front.
"Yes, there were more pressing needs for those lovely lips..." He
kissed her lightly again, "... and tongue."
His tongue entered her mouth and pressed upon hers. There were
new sensations enough in that to fully occupy her mind for the
morning. She couldn't give the sensations from his tongue their
due, however, because his hand was arousing other sensations
throughout her body. It passed upwards from her waist to her
breast. She suddenly needed the support of his body, but the
pressure was not only against his muscled chest and thigh. His
organ was hard against her waist, and her girdle wasn't quite
high enough to cushion all of its length. While her mind was
engaged with the sensations from her body, her tongue had
responded to invasion of her mouth by his. It was merrily
licking and pressing against the invader. When his withdrew, she
decided to follow. Her own hands, acting quite without her will,
moved toward his broad chest until Saebelin objected. She sprang
back at the bird's call.
"My lady's voice is sweet," he went on, "and like grazing cattle
on fallow land, her words are a pleasant use of lips and tongue
when they cannot fulfill their real purpose." She wrinkled her
nose, not sure whether she liked the simile. "Come here," he
said, "and then we should get on." She came into his arms again,
but all he did was kiss her lightly on the nose.
She led him the rest of the way in silence. Her thoughts were on
his kisses, and his hand, and her sensations. They were not
seemly thoughts to share, even with him. It suddenly occurred to
her that perhaps matrons had more dignity because their thoughts
were more often ones to keep to oneself.
William was waiting, on horseback, when they reached the field.
He immediately dismounted. "Sir Karl?" he said in a neutral
voice. He clearly had no idea why Karl wanted the meeting.
"My brother," Karl responded. They embraced. When they stepped
back, William shot her a shrewd look. Once he knew that this
wasn't a quarrel, he seemed to guess why they had taken so long
on the path. She could feel herself blushing.
"My lady and I have a problem," Karl began, "whose solution
may lie in thy hand. When first I began courting thy sister, I
expected us to live in Festmauer. Unfortunately, I lost my
brother, Robert, at that cursed battle." William, who had been
captured there, would curse Bouvines as well. "Now, I shall
spend most of my time at Castle Clavius. I need a castelan at
Festmauer. My lady suggested that thou mightest be that person.
It is not the same as being castelan to thy father, I know. But
we would be grateful if it could be done that way."
A castelan was almost an employee, albeit in charge of the
castle. He didn't have any fief, any right to the land for his
heirs or even for his own person. The liege who put a castelan
in charge of a place expected to be able to remove him at will,
although neither would attempt to replace the farrier or chief
cook of the place without just cause.
A castelan who was also an heir was in an entirely different
situation. Even if he were managing his sister's dowry, he was
the master of the place in a much more definite fashion. Still,
William had a future on this land; he could hardly hope to be
enfiefed with a permanent stronghold elsewhere, even if the
establishment of new strongholds were still common. Staying here
was always a possibility; but the heir waiting in the place
always seemed to be, and often was, waiting for his to die
or retire.
Then too, Karl was simply being courteous in his expression of
his "problem." Any of the knights who accompanied him could hold
Festmauer. William, who had become much less assured of his
martial skill since his capture, saw that clearly. "My lord is
too kind."
"Let us have the investiture after dinner, then," said Karl.
"Our party leaves soon after. We will expect a long visit and
full accounts at Castle Clavius after Michaelmas.
"I could ride with thy party this morning."
"And so thou couldst, but I am depriving thy of one of his
children already. Take a day or two with thy family. The
preparations for the wedding cannot have left much time for them
and thee. Be a son this day and the next, thou wilt have time
enough to be a brother."
"And, my lord," said William, "Elizabeth will be too busy being a
wife to be a sister." Her face warmed at that.
"That is certainly my hope," said Karl. "In any case, thy
and I will expect thee to attend us at Clavius and entertain us
at Festmauer. Though, if thou art no better a hunter of stag
than of frog, we will have little enough to eat there."
William shot her a look then which made her blush again. "I
think my lord will find that my hunting skills have increased in
the past twelve years."
"I do not doubt it. Do not blame Elizabeth for my jest, pray.
For that matter, I am not at all sure that I could catch a frog
even today. She and I might try it."
Taking the hint, William walked his to firmer ground and
then he mounted. When he was gone, Karl turned back towards the
copse. The walk back had even more delays than the walk towards
the field. They were still on their way, indeed, when the horn
sounded for dinner. Afterwards, William was invested as
castelan; the ceremony was minor compared with a homage ceremony.
Their company was the fourth to leave. Her goodbyes from her
parents and were long and tear-filled. She wept over
Robert, but he seemed not to understand that she would be gone a
long time. She felt almost as sad to leave her father's favorite
brace of hounds, often her companions these last few years. But
it would have been wrong to ask for them; they were her father's
companions more. Her Maria's parting from Helga was far
wetter than Maria's parting from Elizabeth, but Helga had always
been Elizabeth's servant; Maria had Gertrude.
She took only five servants with her from her parents' home, and
one of those was a farrier who only came because he was
to Helga. "There are servants aplenty at Castle Clavius," Karl
had said. "Thou wilt need only the ones who will prevent thy
feeling alone among strangers." made sure, however, that
she had a nice age mixture; she, herself, would only have chosen
the ones whom she knew best.
The company included Karl's Catherine, the sister's
husband Frederick Baron Chataignier, one of the baron's knights,
four knights from Clavius and one from Castle Dan, nine squires,
ten sergeants and a chaplain. There were only twenty servants in
all, besides hers. Of course, the sergeants could do any of the
chores en route; while they were armed riders, they were of
common birth and not above any work when a knight ordered it. As
the squires served their knights, servants were barely needed.
Karl's and would take the other road later to
visit with Count Descries.
She rode beside Karl, at the head of the company save for a
vanguard of two sergeants a bowshot in front. They could talk
with only Roger to overhear. "Should I expect trouble, my lord?"
she asked.
"In this company?" he asked. "There are very few strongholds
between here and Clavius which could challenge us without
summoning a levy." And that, she knew, should take a week's
warning.
"Thy party seems to be riding at a high level of preparation."
"Why, so our party is. It is good for discipline. We are still
on thy father's land are we not. Is this castle land, or is
there one whom I met who holds it in fief?"
So she described the land thereabout, and her times visiting it.
He seemed interested in hearing both her information about the
country and what her life was like while she grew up. When her
voice tired, he told her a little about his youth. She found
that he could read, not just a few words or the castle accounts
but as well as many a monk. He told of a recent hunting accident
and of the squire that he had left behind at Castle Clavius
recovering from wounds acquired in that hunt.
They passed a few other parties on the road, mostly scatterings
of serfs on foot but also one substantial party of merchants and
a trio of monks on donkeys. Every few miles there was a booth or
some other arrangement for collecting tolls from travelers. As
nobles, they were immune, but occasionally the barrier would not
open until an actual knight rode up.
The exchange of information ran out before the sun was highest in
the sky. Then they rode in silence for a period, while Karl cast
careful looks around the country between stares at her. The
stares flustered her, and she resumed telling of her
youth. They rode together, speaking only to one another except
for rare reports or questions from the knights of the party.
Instead of turning in to visit a hall, they stopped in a field
for supper when the sky grew dark. There was a tent for her and
Karl, another for her sister-in-law and her husband, and a third
for all the other gentry. Their bed that night was stuffed with
new-cut grass.
They retired to it early while the talk around the bonfires was
still loud. Once they were alone, Karl climbed into bed on her
left. He offered her another cup of wine before addressing her:
"Thou art sworn to do my will, art thou not?"
"That I am, my lord." Indeed, she remembered both her oaths to
God that morning and his kindness regarding William thereafter.
It was a strange question, even so.
"Then thou wilt easily guess my will in this," he said, and began
to kiss her. Indeed, she could not, nor even guess what "this"
was. Soon, however, the pleasures of the kiss swept away that
worry. He had been unfailingly kind to her; he would not beat
her for her inability to guess his wishes.
Well before his hands reached her breasts, she had forgotten the
conversation entirely. Giddy from the kisses, she welcomed these
caresses. His mouth followed his hands, and she panted under the
sensations. Finally, his hand stroked her thighs while his lips
found her nipple. These caresses suddenly provided too much
sensation; her legs clamped together to resist. Karl persisted
in his licking on her nipples but moved his hand upward to her
mound.
Once there, he stroked through her sparse hair before beginning
to press rhythmically on the soft area just below it. This
scarcely reduced her sensations; she tried to hold herself still,
but found herself moving against his hand. She gasped when he
sucked much of her deep into his mouth. The sensations
were different but as intense when he slowly let it ease out,
pulling on the nipple with his lips before it finally slipped
out. He brushed the hair off her forehead with his other hand.
He kissed her lips briefly, then her forehead.
"Loveliest of women," he said, "most beloved of wives. Allow thy
feelings to flow. This is thy obedience, to feel. Feel how thy
husband loves thee." Feeling was no task to perform; feeling was
unavoidable, inescapable, irresistible.
He kissed her lips again and then leaned over to begin kissing
her right breast. His hand had never stopped moving. Now, as
her legs spread to support her responsive pushes against that
hand, it slipped lower. His lips on one nipple, the wiry
hairs on his chest tickled the other one, his hand pressed and
played with and parted her lower lips. There were more
sensations than she could follow clearly. She couldn't breathe.
Then every feeling spiraled upwards. She felt as giddy and
overpowered as she had felt when thrown from a as a girl.
She knew that she would crash against the stone-hard ground in a
moment, but could feel only exultation now.~
When she did fall it was into his arms, safe, secure, but
breathless. Something had disturbed the birds, though; they were
calling out.
"My lord?" Roger called from outside the tent.
"Nothing, Roger." Karl roared. He covered her ear somewhat
belatedly. "Rather sapling."
"Yes, my lord," said Roger, before beginning to sing.
"We are here," Karl said. "No one will enter. We are two
together. Thou art Elizabeth, to Karl of Danclaven.
Thou art safe, and very pleasing to thy lord."
"But," and she had just remembered this, "thou didst want me to
guess thy will about something. And I have no idea. I still
lack any hint of what thou didst desire. If my lord loves me,
tell me what thou desirest."
He began laughing at that. "I do love thee. Truly I do. All I
was asking was that thou wouldst do just what thou didst; lie
there and accept that love; lie here and feel that love. Thou
didst please thy husband very much. Now dost thou not think that
it is time for sleep?"
She did and she did not. She had ridden long after several very
exciting days. Whatever had possessed her had left her very
sleepy. She did need her sleep. She had expected, however, that
he would renew his possession of her body. She vaguely believed
that did that every night that they were with their
women. She could not say that she *desired* it however. Her one
experience had been painful; and, while she knew that this pain
was because she had been a virgin, she also expected the next
time to as well. His last sentence, in any case, was more
of a directive than a question. He pulled her to him and, with
his organ pressed against her back, held her while they both
drifted off to sleep.
Just before the blackness overtook her, she heard another squire
begin another song.
She awoke in his arms and slipped out of them to use the slop
bucket. He used it as soon as she came back to bed. The bed was
nice and warm after her little trip, but the same couldn't be
said for his skin when he held her again. She shivered and felt
him harden against her shaking rump. He kissed the back of her
neck, which made her shiver again even though his lips were warm.
His beard was scratchy against her shoulder, his chest-hair
ticklish on her back, his hands were still chilly on her breasts;
it seemed that she felt everything more acutely. "What is the
time?" she whispered.
"Not yet dawn. Dost thou want me to go out and look at the
stars? It would chill me a bit, but I have someone in my bed to
warm me again." Put like that, it seemed a bad idea.
"Thou needst not bother. We can call it time to go back to
sleep."
"I call it time for thee to kiss thy husband," he said. When she
was slow to respond, he said nothing further, merely stroking her
breasts more firmly. He was her husband and master, however kind
he had been; and he had been kind. She had made all those
promises to God. Besides, the kisses the other morning had been
quite enjoyable. She turned and tried to kiss his mouth. What
she reached was his nose. He snorted.
"Well, it is dark," she said.
"I said no word of criticism." Which was true, although there
was more than a hint of laughter in his whisper. "It is merely
one more evidence of a lack of experience. Take as much practice
as thou needest."
Practice! She might not have had long experience, but she had
had a great deal of example these last two days. She reached his
mouth, and adjusted her position to make that comfortable. Then
she attacked him, pressing her lips against his as firmly as he
ever had pressed hers and hard. He was still laughing,
which gave her an opening. She invaded his mouth much more
forcefully than he had ever invaded hers. His laughter stopped
then.
His tongue met hers and both his hands went to her breasts. As
now-recalled feelings began to course through her, she relaxed
her pressure on his mouth. He didn't relax his, and slowly his
pressure and her relaxation moved her back until she was lying
down with him half over her. She felt dizzy, and hot, and
chilled. His hand left her only to sweep over her body,
those caresses returned to her again and again. Then he
stroked down her belly into her hair. Her legs parted of their
own accord, and he grasped her between them. He left her mouth,
and she could sense, if not see, his face above hers. "My lord,"
she said. What was happening to her?
"And thy husband." He kissed her right breast, arching above the
other so that he barely touched it. With one nipple tickled by
his chest hair, the other lipped and licked and suckled by his
mouth, she felt overcome by still-strange sensations. His hand
quietly holding her secret places was comforting, but also
arousing. When he changed his position to suck the other nipple,
his fingers began exploring her folds. It wasn't really like
being tickled at all, yet her body writhed under all those
sensations as if they were tickles. She abandoned her last
attempt at controlling those writhings; she could only feel and
gasp for air. The tent above and the rustling grass below
disappeared and there was only her body and those sensations.
Then the sensations soared upward like a falcon, a falcon which
she rode. Then the falcon dove and she was its prey, pierced,
shivering, shaken to bits. Then it dropped her. While she fell
she heard a moan from somewhere, seeming to echo in the tent and
in her mouth. She landed on the bed and into Karl's arms. There
was not one soft place on his body, but that hardness was a
comfort and a shelter after her experience.
As her breath returned, he eased her back onto the bed. He and
she were all alone in the world except for the joy she had just
experienced. When he pulled on one leg, she spread both. Karl
was moving over her to shelter her from the dark unknown when
they heard a call from the tent entrance.
"My lord?"
She stiffened at Roger's voice.
"Roger?" Karl responded.
"Didst thou call, my lord? I heard..."
"Ignore *us* Roger."
"Yes, my lord."
Karl kissed her, but she lay stiff under him. She knew her duty
as a and made not the slightest resistance to him. She
could even remember that she had felt great joy and comfort in
Karl's presence. She could not, however, bring those feelings
back although she tried. Karl tried too; he kissed her mouth and
breasts. Her mind, however, was filled with thoughts of the
squire one thickness of cloth away.
Finally, Karl moved over on the bed. He lay on his back, and
pulled her to lie with her head on his shoulder.
"Sleep like this," he said. "And think of a room with solid
walls and a squire-skin rug on the floor."
She laughed. "It wouldn't have much fur on it would it?"
"No, but there would be compensations."
He stroked her arm and then kissed her forehead like used
to do when she was younger. Would it be so bad? she wondered.
She was feeling better and Roger would be asleep soon. She was
wondering how to offer Karl a token of acceptance when she
noticed that he was asleep already. She took a moment to drink
in the feeling of him beside her. Even with muscles loosened in
sleep, he felt hard against her body. Shelter! she thought as
she slipped into sleep herself.
Chapter Three
September 7, 1214
The birds were singing outside when Elizabeth next awoke. The
birds were singing and a hand was stroking her breast. Oh, yes.
She was a woman, and although she had to get up
momentarily, the hand was licit and even pleasant. She tried to
lie still; but it was morning, and she had lain in an unfamiliar
position. When she stretched, Karl moved back to give her room.
She ended on her back with her hands outside the covers in the
chill.
"Repeat thou that stretch," he said. Right gladly she did,
stretching further and yawning more deeply. He rested his hand
on her belly while she did so. When she collapsed back with all
the tension gone, he moved it up to cup her breast. She had some
memory of that hand from the night; mostly, however, she was
remembering the lovely wedding mass and dinner and celebration.
She was truly a matron, blessed by a bishop and toasted by a
duke's son. And, oh yes, Karl had been so kind about William;
and he had kissed her so thrillingly under the trees.
He was kissing her now, indeed. He licked her lips and her teeth
before passing his tongue between them. His hand under her was
kneading her rump, and the other hand was between her and the
sheet caressing everywhere else. She thrilled to these caresses,
welcomed them, even gently returned them. She passed her hand up
his iron-hard arm and felt his shoulder muscles flex as his hand
explored her. Her tongue licked his and played tag with it.
He swept the blankets aside, baring her to her waist. The cool
air only partly mitigated the heat which his hand was generating.
He abandoned her mouth for her breast, kissing a path up the
small left mound to the top while he held the right one with his
hand. Her nipples felt hard and hot in the cool air even before
he on one while fingering the other.
Warmth from those kisses somehow concentrated in her lower belly.
This began moving of its own volition even before the fingers of
his right hand started upward. At first, these fingers clasped
her thigh where it met her rump. This area was sensitive enough,
but soon they were teasing the lips between her tight-closed
thighs. Unable to remain still under that assault, she spread
her legs for purchase on the grass-stuffed mattress.
At this, his other hand finally left off teasing and tweaking her
right nipple. It stroked down her belly until it found her lower
lips. Those fingers, as well, stroked and pushed on her lips.
When she was writhing from that assault, they parted them. At
first, the gentle rubbing there accentuated the heat in her
belly. Then his finger struck some chord and she shivered apart
in fire and joy.
When she came back to the tent from wherever the fire had taken
her, he was above her and between her legs. He stroked between
her lips four or five times, causing echoes of the previous
desire so acute that it was almost pain each time he reached the
top. Then he pressed against her entrance. There was a twinge
from that; and she, half in memory of his previous advice -- half
by instinct, raised and spread her knees. This movement,
combined with one of his, brought him a fingerbreadth within her.
The stretching had still a remnant of pain, but the feeling of
fullness was voluptuous at the same time.
He bent to kiss her lips, then straightened so that he entered
her more fully. She adjusted herself again and he was farther in
yet. He pushed once more before retreating. Then he was moving
in and out by two or three fingerbreadths at a time. The motion
aroused her in the way that was similar to and yet different from
the feelings that his fingers had aroused there.
"Does this pain thee?" he asked.
"Very little." Indeed, she was enjoying it.
"Likely the stretching is necessary." He pressed forward,
filling her completely, and stopped moving. He kissed her nose
from that position and straightened. "And this?"
"Not at all." It was a lovely feeling.
He pressed forward again, and she felt a twinge from deep inside.
"And this?"
"It really does."
At that, he pulled back well before the second point. "A shame,
but that will change in time. Do thou tighten thy legs about me
here."
When she did, he started moving again. All the talk had rather
reduced her voluptuous mood. The sensations of his short
movements in her rekindled this slightly. Now, however, it was
no longer dark. She could see as well as feel, and the sight of
the transformation of his face above her took her attention. He
looked concerned, then distracted. Then, while his pace down
below hurried, he grimaced in what appeared to be pain. Then he
drove inward despite the resistance of her clasped legs and
throbbed deep inside her. He looked agonized for a moment then
his face relaxed in peace and his body slumped over hers.
She held him. The sensations had been nothing like the intensity
she had experienced while his fingers stroked her, but this
occasion had its own attractions. Elizabeth was locked in a
hierarchy; her status was fairly elevated and would rise as she
aged, but she would be the subordinate to Karl and in his power
in every situation for all of their lives. She had just glimpsed
a situation, however, in which he was in her power. She had seen
this impassive knight, who was grave even when he jested and who
never tensed his face even to bellow, transformed in her arms.
Well, she amended, transformed between her legs. Whichever it
was, she had a power over him that neither his Duke nor his
liege-and-father had. She stole another look at his placid face.
It was turned towards hers, and she could see clearly in the
greater light. She must have been smiling for he smiled at her.
Greater light! It was past dawn! "My lord," she said, "we will
miss mass." And the whole camp would guess why.
"He is my chaplain," he said. Of course, David wouldn't
start without him. "But still we have a long ride ahead of us."
He turned his head away from her. "Roger!" The volume was still
disturbing.
"My lord?"
"My lady's servants. And then my clothes."
"Yes, my lord."
After Karl used the slop bucket, he unselfconsciously washed his
organ. It seemed much smaller than it had when poised between
her legs two days before, and somehow a different shape. Then he
washed hands and face. He handed her the damp towel. "Thou
probably shouldst wipe thyself," he said. "We have another
towel."
There seemed to be a good deal to wipe off. Despite her care,
however, a drop of something landed on her calf while the maids
were slipping her shift over her head. The maids did not seem to
notice, but Roger was blushing crimson when she got the shift far
enough down to look over at Karl. Roger did a lot of blushing,
however; he was that complexion. Trousers and bliaut followed
the shift, and then boots and a cloak.
After mass and breakfast (day bread and sour wine), Roger led
a caparisoned mare up to her. Of course, Belle would be tired
after the ride the previous day. Karl scattered some salt on her
hand and dropped a few oats on it. "Feed her," he said. She
held out her hand, and the lipped up the oats and then
licked off the salt. Karl helped her to mount, lifting her
higher than she had needed these two years past. The mare
shifted the way and horses do to firm their loads, but didn't
try to resist her. Roger handed up the reins while Karl dealt
with a question from one of the sergeants.
"What is her name?" she asked.
"George, my lady," Roger answered. "She is thine." He was
blushing again.
"George?"
"George," answered Karl. "That is worthy of a quieter time.
And, Roger she isn't hers, yet." That hurt. Karl had been kind
to her, but she had also done everything which he had asked.
What must she do to earn this mare?
"And," Karl continued, "scattering obols to the crowd of peasants
is one thing; when I wish to give a present to my lady wife, *I*
will give it. There is no need for thine intervention."
"I am very sorry my lord." This blush was a record hue even for
Roger.
"Accepted. I shall forget this. Thou shouldst not. Now there
is the matter of my mount."
"Yes, my lord." And Roger scurried off to get Karl's palfrey.
With a great hustle and bustle, the party started on its way,
roughly in the same order as the previous day. Once they were on
their journey, however, Catherine rode up to where Karl and she
were talking.
"If you tell each other everything this trip," she said, "you
will have nothing to discuss for the next twenty years. Allow me
to make the acquaintance of my new sister." Karl laughed and
dropped back. Everyone else of whatever age in their company
deferred to his rank; Catherine treated him like a boy.
"Men think," Catherine said, "that giving thee half an hour of
pleasure at night justifies boring thee through the whole day
with prattle on their concerns." In truth, however, Karl had
always turned the conversation to Elizabeth's past. Catherine,
after an hour's tribute to Elizabeth's wedding, concentrated on
her own home and family. Despite being twenty-six and
for "one full decade last Christmastide," she had only three
living children, Joachim, Karl and Maria. She never mentioned
whatever tragedies lay behind that fact, and Elizabeth did not
ask. Instead, Catherine joked about the ones who remained. "I
shall tell thee what the boys' greetings will be when we get
back," she said. "Joachim will say, 'Good day, mother; good day,
father; ROGER IS HERE!"
At the imitative shout, Catherine's broke into a trot. An
experienced horsewoman, she let it run up to the horses in front
of it. With her way blocked and no more shouting from her back,
the mare settled down; Elizabeth caught up in a few minutes. "We
shall be very lucky," Catherine continued as if there had been no
interruption, "if Karl greets us at all before centering his
attention on Roger." Their uncle's squire, a few years but
much better traveled, was a great favorite with the boys, it
seemed. "They are all eager to be fostered themselves, not an
eagerness that I share. Enjoy thy sons when they come, my dear.
They will leave thee soon enough. Now Maria is only three; I
will have her with me for twelve years yet, God willing."
The first time that Elizabeth asked for tales about Karl, she
committed several of her husband's childhood to memory
before discovering that Catherine was actually talking about her
younger son. "Well," Catherine observed when the confusion was
cleared up, "there is little damage. One little gets in the
same scrapes as another. I am sorry, though. I should have
remembered that thou art newly wed and still think that thy
particular is unique." Then she did speak of her brother's
younger years.
Elizabeth was glad of the distraction. The first hour into the
ride, she had become painfully aware that the activities of the
previous nights had not left her unscathed. The insides of her
thighs where she had gripped Karl so tightly were a little
scraped. Not painful at the time, these scrapes announced
themselves as the morning went on.
They traveled fast and hard, but the sun was nearing its zenith
before they passed into Sir Frederick's barony. The knight
called a peasant out of the fields and sent him running headlong
with a wand and a token. These, but not the peasant, would reach
the castle in little more than an hour although it would take the
riders nearer two. Catherine and Sir Frederick conferred for a
few minutes before Sir Frederick rode to where Karl and Elizabeth
were once more beside each other. "I would hate to offer such
scant courtesy," he said, "but my lady suggests that we all
dine in our traveling clothes."
"Thy lady wife," Karl replied, "has changed much if she suggested
that instead of deciding that. However, between my house and
thine is too much friendship to take an offer of greater comfort
as a scanting of courtesy. What does my lady think?"
"Think about?" she replied.
"Eat first, change later."
Her stomach thought that it was a wonderful idea. It was already
an hour past what she considered late dinner time. "If my lord
agrees, I would like it very much."
Even so, it was well past the hour of prime and the eastern walls
were casting noticeable shadows before they turned in to the long
path leading up to the drawbridge. The people from Castle
Chataignier, gentles and servants, broke into a canter. The
others ranked themselves by status. Sir Frederick, a few minutes
after being their companion, was their host helping Karl down
from his horse. His seneschal helped Elizabeth down. The sons
belied Catherine's prediction; all three children were still
clustered around their when the horn blew for dinner.
The castle's two knights who had stayed behind and their squires
served Karl, her, their lord, and their lady. This was great
formality, but also the practical matter that they had dined
before hearing that their lord had returned. When Roger finally
came in, he was greeted with great pleasure by the boys.
When she did receive the welcoming bath, it was a full one and
not just a washing of feet and legs. She had bathed, as she
assumed Karl had, the night before the wedding; the others
probably had not since leaving their domain and could not be
offered a bath unless their lord and lady had. This bath was
welcome to her, even so, more as a relief of soreness than of
grime.
Dressed in a guest robe, she went looking for Karl. He and Roger
were in the court dueling with blunted swords when she saw him.
Catherine's two were cheering on their hero without much
effect. When she called her greeting, Roger turned to look and
earned a buffet to his head for his inattention. He had a padded
helmet, and Karl used the side of his sword; but it looked
painful all the same. Karl slapped the sword out of Roger's hand
before answering her greeting.
"We will be another hour," he said. "Where shall I seek thee?"
"I shall be with thy lady sister." She found Catherine sewing as
well as she could with her on her lap. After a moment
Elizabeth took up the pieces of what looked like a bliaut cut for
young Karl. She began sewing the side onto the back, taking her
smallest stitches. How much she sewed did not matter; having her
hostess take out her work later would.
Sewing led naturally to singing. She and Catherine sang Maria a
lullaby in duet. It gained the girl's attention instead of
lulling her to sleep, but she dropped off anyway; she had had an
exciting day. They mostly alternated after the girl's nurse
carried her away, but it was during another duet that Elizabeth
looked up to see Karl and Sir Frederick in the doorway to the
room. They applauded the end of the song and then nodded to each
other.
Then the sang their own duet, in Provencale. She could
follow it well enough to tell that it was a love song. Sir
Frederick ended it with his arm around Catherine, but Karl ended
on his knees with his arms spread dramatically towards her. She
could find no response but a blush. The couple were
watching them with the sort of patronizing approval that
give to the first staggering steps of their children.
That made her blush hotter. She was a grown woman now; they had
no right to treat her as a babe. Catherine was so kind to her
and good natured, however, that she regretted her resentment
immediately. Sir Frederick sent his younger squire, Andrew, to
fetch a viol. Andrew accompanied Sir Frederick and Catherine in
a duet which the three had clearly practiced often.
After that, it would seem to be time for a duet from the other
couple. Karl looked at her, but she could think of no song to
suggest. This drove home to her what strangers they were still.
Sir Frederick noticed the awkwardness and mentioned that he had
justice still to perform. Karl offered himself as witness to the
judgments. "A moment, brother, of thy time," said Catherine, and
followed him out the door.
She said something in a low voice, but Elizabeth could hear his
response of "Right gladly!"
Dinner having been late and heavy, supper was late as well.
Baron Frederick's guests included several vassals and an
Augustinian priest whose abbey had business with Castle
Chataignier. The many people in the castle who had dined earlier
would have been shocked at the suggestion that their comfort
might be considered as important as Baron Frederick's, much less
his principal guests'. On the other hand, dinner having been
plain if abundant, the kitchen felt honor-bound that supper for
the guests would feature fancy meat pastries and other dishes for
a feast. She felt a little bloated at the end, and glad that the
next day was Friday. Karl had, however, been watering their wine
with a heavy hand; they were both cold sober throughout the meal.
The had to be restrained from calling to Roger as he served
table. Finally, when the food had all been served and the
company had passed from eating to drinking to talking, Catherine
had a suggestion for her sons. "Would you like Roger to share
your bed tonight?" They enthusiastically would. "Then why do
you not ask your uncle?"
Joachim dragged his with him to kneel in front of Karl's
place at table. "Please, Uncle Karl, could he?"
"Please, Uncle," seconded Karl's namesake.
Karl's mouth was set in a stern, commanding line. From her
vantage point, though, it could be seen to twitch upward
occasionally. "After he finishes all his tasks," he said, "but
only then." The boys' thanks were loud and sincere. Roger's
seemed as sincere, although expressed formally.
Soon after supper, their hosts escorted them to their room and
offered them a last cup of wine. Karl sipped from it but urged
her to drink deep. Quite soon, they were alone in bed behind a
stout door. The fire was new and bright, one of Roger's last
chores. The falcons were dozing on stands well apart. The bed
was softest feathers over fresh straw.
Karl kissed her deeply and then cupped her breast. The
sensations were becoming more enjoyable as they became more
familiar. During the kiss she noticed that he was fresh-shaven.
She let her tongue play with his as her body relaxed into this
new pleasure. She was, indeed, beginning the shift from
relaxation into an anticipatory tension when Karl's hand pressed
too hard on a sore part of her thigh. She started, and he
noticed.
"What is wrong?"
"Nothing. Nothing really." She could tell he was waiting.
Indeed she could see his questioning expression in the firelight.
"It was only a scrape on my thigh. I have ridden at a gallop
often enough, but I don't think that I ever covered as much
ground in three days as in the last two." All this was true.
The scrapes had been begun, however, by his hairy thighs pivoting
there while she gripped him tightly.
"Always tell me," he said. "Always tell me. There is nothing
wrong with an 'It is nothing.' God knows that priests would have
no time to eat if we confessed as lies every time that we said
'thank you' when we were not grateful in the least." She smiled
at this. "But after that, thou needest to tell me any problems.
I cannot deal with the problems which I do not know."
She was tempted to mention the beginnings of the scrapes then,
but he continued on. "I am sorry about the mare. We really
believed that she was the best mount for thee in my stable. If
her gait does not suit thee, we shall have to find another. We
will have scant choice, however, until we reach Castle Clavius."
"Thou hadst planned to give her to me?" she asked. What task had
he planned to set her to earn that gift?
"I had planned to allow thee a choice. George was merely our
opinion as to the best of my mares. Of course, some mares at
Clavius are not in my gift. Thou mayest ride any of them while I
am master there, but a particular palfrey should be thine, and it
should be chosen from among those which are mine." He had not
meant to set her a demand or a task at all! He had intended to
be more generous than Roger's hasty words had implied, not less.
He seemed to be trying to read her face while she thought that
over. If so, he read it wrong.
"Thy fondness for Belle is well placed, indeed the name is apt."
(Belle was an friend, but Elizabeth was too honest to think
for a moment that her mare compared favorably to George.) "Thou
truly needest more than one mount, however. Not much over half
my nights will be spent in Clavius. And, except for the wars,
thou wilt be expected to accompany me. Well, business is for the
daylight." He resumed his kisses.
His mouth followed his hand to her breast, and she was panting
when he next spoke. "Poor dear," he said. "Where was it the
saddle thee?"
It seemed a strange interruption, but she indicated the areas on
her thighs. "Poor legs," he said. Then he kissed the spot his
thighs had irritated. The kiss had small effect on the sting of
the skin, but it had great effect on her. As he kissed upward
from that spot, she felt overheated, and giddy, and tickled. She
writhed under that tickling, which seemed centered on her belly
rather than on the thigh under his lips. That feeling
intensified as he approached its center until he suddenly broke
off.
"And the other leg," he said. This time he began a handsbreadth
lower than the bruised point. Even so, she still felt overheated
and tickled. His only response to her writhing was to hold the
ankle of the affected leg. She wished he would stop, she wished
he would move faster, she gloried in the sensations brought by
this particular approach. By the time he had reached the
juncture, she was gripped by a strange sense of need. None of
her body was under her control; where Karl wasn't holding it
still some other force -- even less susceptible to her will --
was moving it in slow waves. Her torso was stiffening in the
midst of that undulation. She clenched her teeth, always an aid
to control in her previous experience; but she got too little air
that way and was forced to open her mouth to gasp. At that
point, when there was nowhere further for Karl to go, but she
could not possibly bear for him to stop, he did stop.
He lifted his mouth from her leg to say, "And there is another
sore where I stung thee grievously these two nights back." She
could make no sense of that before he parted her folds and began
to kiss her there.
Sensations which she had thought unbearable a moment before
doubled and trebled. Then each touch of his tongue pierced her
with something which, while not quite pain, was much too intense
to be pleasure.
She soared away from him, but this time his mouth -- at least --
followed. As she spiraled upward into an untimely dawn, his
licks and kisses drove her onward. It was glorious. It was
ultimate joy. It was a glimpse of heaven.
And then it was over. She fell through light and joy and air
into the bed. The fire was too hot on her bare skin, and there
was no air to be had however hard her chest labored. Someone was
beside her and covering her with a sheet and a blanket.
"Hot," she complained when at last she could spare the breath to
speak. It was less true by then, however.
"Indeed thou art," someone answered. It was Karl. Oh yes, she
was and on her way to her new home. "The blanket is
safer, however. Thou art covered in sweat." She was, indeed.
And she was no longer hot. A moment later, she shivered. Karl
held her.
"Dearest heart," he said. "Dear love. Beloved wife. Rest here
and catch thy breath. Thou art hot in very truth." It was no
longer true, however. She was cool and welcomed the blanket.
Karl's closeness was even more welcome. She moved closer to him,
and he embraced her. The contrast with Maria's distance no
longer bothered her. The warm embrace from this hard-muscled
was a comfort, and she was languidly drifting off when his hand
began to roam over her.
At first it was a minor annoyance; then it was a mild pleasure;
soon it was a renewed excitement. She turned in his arms, then,
and kissed him. She could feel his lips smile under her kiss.
He licked her lips before penetrating her mouth. Then his hands
roamed with even more license. He kissed and licked her
before pushing her gently onto her back. He threw the covers off
to one side, but kept his hand playing on her nether lips while
he climbed between her legs. She caught a glimpse of his organ
projecting outwards and looking and pointed in the firelight.
"We do not want to aggravate those bruises," he said, although
she had quite forgotten them. "Hand me a pillow, please." He
lifted her legs so only her shoulders were on the bed; then
lowered her rump onto the pillow. Somehow this lifting made her
feel like a little girl, quite inappropriate to what she knew
must ensue, but a somehow comforting feeling. "And," he
continued, "entering too deeply might thee. Canst thou
reach me with thy arm at thy side?" She reached down, and he
took her hand in his. "Put two fingers... such a small hand!"
(She thought that her hand was the natural size. His was one for
a giant.) "Put three fingers around me like so."
He placed her hand on his organ with the little finger curled
underneath touching his sack. It felt so strange. She had never
touched a there before. She had touched Robert once, and
that had been odd as well. But Robert was a baby, his organ was
tiny, and the oddness was in the loose dangle which she had had
to move aside to clean him. What she held now felt like a bar of
iron inside a silk sleeve. It also felt like something
independently alive, a ready to spring.
"If thou holdest me so," he continued, "there is no danger of my
entering thee too far." She tightened her grasp, and it jumped a
bit in her hand. "Oh lady!" he said. He parted her nether lips
and advanced forward slightly. She had the idea, and helped
guide him to the right spot.
They were both looking downward although she, for one, could see
nothing of the process. When he entered her the first little
bit, she glanced at his face. He looked concerned rather than
pleased.
"If thou wouldst raise thy right leg," he said. She did, and he
raised it more before putting his arm across the insides of her
knee. "And now the left ..." They repeated the maneuver. The
position was not particularly comfortable and felt slightly
ridiculous. None of her abrasions were touched, however. He
pressed inward until her hand was caught between his loins and
her hip. He looked directly into her eyes and smiled before
starting to move.
The feelings in her belly from this strange penetration were
exciting if much less intense than those his lips had evoked.
They exchanged looks again just before the fire sent a shower of
sparks up the chimney and died to glowing coals. Then she could
only feel and hear. She felt him rub within her slowly and then
more rapidly. Her body responded with its own motions, without
seeming to consult her head. She heard his breath quicken to
gasps. Then he was moving faster yet. Her hand was driven
against her hip each time, and he seemed to swell within her
fingers. She tightened her hold.
"Oh love," he said. Then his force redoubled, and his words
turned to groans. Suddenly the shaft within her fingers was
shaking and pulsing. He pressed forwards twice as hard and
reared above her in the dark. He grunted, and gasped.
Then he pulled out and fell sideways, still entangled in her
legs. Her hand was smeared before she let go of him. "Girl,
thou wert wonderful," he said. There was a silence except for
his breath. "Wife, I meant."
She had been a so long and so recently that the first
comment had seemed nothing amiss. The correction, however,
alerted her. As he rearranged himself, her, and the covers, she
thought about the implications.
She had never expected to find that Karl had abstained from women
before the marriage. with that much control entered the
church. (And if the droll songs had any basis in fact, many more
men entered the church than had that much control.) Neither had
she expected, however, to be compared to the women of the camp.
She was, after all, gentleborn and his lawful wife.
On the other hand, being called "wonderful" in any context had to
be a compliment. And she had not received particularly many
compliments in her sixteen years. Karl would learn to call her
"wife," she knew; she wanted him to keep calling her "wonderful."
Whether in physical pleasure or in mental satisfaction, marriage
seemed to have benefits which she had not expected. She pressed
back against her lord, and he cuddled her to him although he
seemed asleep. Soon she was, as well.
Chapter Four
September 8, 1214
Elizabeth awoke still in Karl's arms, and feeling quite cramped.
She moved away from him to stretch, and then remembered the
previous morning. He was just waking when she took his hand to
place it on her belly. Then she stretched and shook until she
was rid of all the kinks from sleep.
"Thou art an adorable woman," he whispered. "Didst thou know
that?"
Well, she was a woman whom he adored; she had begun to learn
that, and be well pleased with it. "And thou art a handsome
man."
"Hmpf! I was not speaking of thy comeliness, although thou art
right comely. It was thy manner which I was calling adorable."
"Well, thou didst seem to enjoy my morning yesterday."
"And so I did," he said, "and enjoyed this morning's as well.
Dost thou desire another stretch?" She stretched, but it was all
play-acting. "I even enjoyed that. But what I enjoyed most was
that thou didst invite me to have that pleasure."
"But thinkest thou that I have a comely face?" Suddenly, this
was important. Her and the priests could say all they
wanted about the unimportance and fleetingness of mere fleshly
beauty (although her took enough time at her own toilet);
this was important to her, and she wanted to be beautiful in
his sight.
"Now thou art fishing for compliments. I do think that thy face
is very pretty, although thou dost not need a husband to tell
thee that; a glass would do. What I said was that thou wert
comely, and I was not thinking of thy face particularly. At
least thou wert comely in the firelight; let me check whether any
changes have occurred."
The checking was quite thorough and included parts of her that he
could hardly have been said to have seen, much less have
considered comely. She warmed considerably, but finally was led
to protest.
"My husband, that has been checked three times already."
"It has?" he responded. "We must find some way of marking the
explored territory." He kissed her right then, while
fondling the other. The pleasure from that sensation flowed
through her and increased her daring.
She pulled his hand off her right and raised it to her
mouth. She kissed each finger before saying: "Now my mouth has
been explored and needs marking."
His laughter interfered with the kiss for a few moments, but then
his tongue dueled with hers. He explored her mouth in earnest
while his hand delved below. She was beginning to tense when he
asked: "Canst thou remember how thou didst hold me last night?"
She could. After he had climbed between her legs and helped her
spread them wider, she gripped him with the three fingers as she
had gripped him before. He moved back and forth between her
folds although she tried to direct him to the right spot.
Finally correctly placed, he moved inward with one smooth motion.
Driven against her hip, her hand was almost displaced. She
tightened her grip. His organ, seemed to jump at the closer
grasp.
"Oh love!" he said. Then he was moving in and out of her. The
sensations, so different from what his hand had evoked from the
entryway, had similar results nonetheless. Her hips began to
move of their own accord. This interfered with his movements at
first, but then she and Karl reached a mutual rhythm. He came
down when she rose and withdrew when she fell. She could feel
herself filled with each of her upstrokes. Delicious sensations
flowed from that spot until her whole body was stiffening in
expectation of something new.
As if his motions and the swelling under her fingers were not
enough, he told her of his own pleasure. "Oh love," he said, "oh
dearest." His speed increased until he could put only one
syllable into each stroke. "Oh ... love ... Oh ... dar ...
ling! ... Oh ... dear ... rest." She felt something unnameable
slowly possessing her, and she was pressing towards it when he
paused at his upstroke. Barely within her, he said: "Oh my
darling, darling, ..." then drove into her and rammed her hand
against her hip. He was already pulsing within her fingers and
within her secrecy when he groaned out " ... love!"
He pressed hard against her and loomed stiff above her for
moments longer. She felt a throbbing within her fingers, then a
pause, then one more throb. She felt her body retreating from
whatever threshold it had reached. Then he softened slightly in
her fingers just before he collapsed into a heap beside her and
across her leg.
When the weight on her leg felt too great even in a feather bed,
she dared to ask, "Couldst thou move thy leg?" He readjusted
himself so that his legs were a little away from her and his
chest pressed into her side. He breathed heavily beside her ear
and hugged her with his arm.
The ebbing of all those new sensations had left her distinctly
uncomfortable. Her lower lips were sensitive, if not quite sore;
and the sensations of leaking fluid bothered her. Her bladder
was also threatening to surrender control, which made the other
leak that much more embarrassing. She pushed on his arm, to no
immediate avail.
"Must thou?" he asked.
"Truly," she said. He released her and she shuffled over towards
the slop bucket. She found ewer, bowl, and towel; having washed
a few critical areas, she came back to bed a little cleaner and
much colder. Karl's arms were welcome then. Give her new
husband his due; he shivered twice but made absolutely no
complaint. Indeed, he hugged her close until she was warm.
Then it was his turn to make the trip. "I think," he said, "that
the day may have begun despite the dark window." He opened the
door. "Ah, Roger. Are my lady's servants here?"
"No, my lord," said Roger's voice.
"Guest robes again," Karl asked her.
"Yes," she answered. It was only appropriate.
"Fetch them and a fresh chemise."
"Boots, my lord? It rained in the night and threatens even now."
"Roger, thou wilt make a squire yet. Yes, boots and a cloak for
each."
Even when they left the chapel after mass, the sky yielded only a
grudging grayness, and the crash of thunder interrupted breakfast
more than once. Having washed their breakfast bread down with a
little beer, the company looked out at the drenching rain hitting
the courtyard and sought reasons to stay in the great hall.
Sir Frederick had business with the Augustinian monk, but offered
any entertainment that they wished. "I had planned some falconry
after dinner," he said. "That is no longer possible."
"Would my lady enjoy a game of chess or one of backgammon?" Karl
asked. Again she was taken by a sense of how great strangers
they were. She played both passably; she had no idea of his
strength in either. For that matter, one of the few things she
knew about him was his family's aversion to dice; did his mention
of backgammon mean that he did not share it? Either to beat her
new husband before an audience or to be crushed by him would be
an embarrassment. She opted for backgammon, as the dice could be
blamed for any result.
The first game went to eight before Karl defeated her in the end.
Only rolling a double saved her from being gammoned. Karl didn't
touch the doubling cube in the next three games which went
two-to-one in his favor. By their fifth game, only Roger was
watching. When Sir Frederick summoned Karl to witness the
contract he was negotiatiing, Karl asked Roger to sit in for him.
Roger doubled at his first opportunity and won soon after.
"These dice seem to dislike me," she said.
"It is not the two cubes which betrayed my lady," said Roger.
"It was the one." She looked at him quizzically. "Sir Karl says
that there are two games inside the game of backgammon," he
explained, "the game of two cubes and the game of one. He
forbade me the doubling cube for my first year as his squire. I
was supposed to learn the game of capture and territory first.
Then he taught me to double, and accept doubles, and -- most
important of all -- to reject doubles. My lady should have
rejected my double."
"But then I would have lost." She paused for a second. "Well I
did lose, but I still had a chance."
"But my lady had not one chance in four. Not one in six, if it
comes to that. Sir Karl says that the simple case to consider is
that of four games from the same position. If the weaker player
would win one of those, then he would get two points to the
stronger player's six. He says that it were equally worthwhile
to yield all four games and lose but four points. Sir Karl says
that any weaker position should refuse a double and any stronger
one should accept it. Sir Karl tells me that I must learn more
arithmetic before he tells me the refinements. Sir Karl thinks a
baron should know arithmetic and requires me to study it." He
set the