Conquered By The Knight: Historical Medieval Romance

BOOK: Conquered By The Knight: Historical Medieval Romance
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Copyright © 2015 by Elle London

 

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Conquered By The Knight

 

Elle London

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

              The full moon shone in the dark night sky, and the forest was almost as brightly lit as if it were day time. Tristan, one of the most favoured knights of the kingdom, was returning from one of his most tedious missions for the king yet. He had been expected to go to several villages and demand they fulfil their tax requirements. It was not that he resented his duty, but he did miss his younger days where there was better channelling of his youthful virility through his prowess with the sword. This prowess led to deep admiration amongst the other citizens making him a famed name, but it was his other sword that tarnished his reputation. As a serial womaniser, he had bedded at least a hundred women, most of them willing while some of them had to be coaxed into it. He always left them ruined, not as much because of what he did to their bodies, but because they would pine for him long after he was gone. This was why parents warned their daughters against falling for the charms of Tristan and men like him, conjuring the most outrageous stories of what would happen to their precious treasure were they to reveal it.

 

              But Tristan was no longer the youthful lad he used to be, whose cock would rise without fail for every maiden he came across, fair or not. Age had taken its toll on him as well, he was not lucky enough to escape it. Of course, his virility was still intact, his member was still large and strong and he could go on if he chose to. But it took a lot more coaxing now than it used to. And on most nights, he preferred to sleep after a mug of fine beer any way.

 

              Tristan rode his sturdy white horse, his constant companion of several years into the nearest village. He sighed when he gazed upon the village. It was another one of those sleepy, peaceful little places where Tristan could bet the most exciting event of the year would be a vagrant cow. It was such a nice night, but no lights were could be seen in any of the houses. No one was outside, secretly dallying with a lover. Not even a local madman who would sing songs or cause general ruckus. One dismal looking inn at the very end was the only indicator of any life present in this place. Tristan was disappointed and headed slowly to the inn, hoping to get a good night's rest so he could exit this desolate looking village as soon as possible.

 

              He tied his horse in the stable, the finest looking one that was there and walked inside the inn. It seemed the bartender was not inside at the moment. The place was poorly lit, yet the dimness seemed to in some way attempt to hide the dirty stains on the tables and the accumulation of cobwebs and dust on the ceilings and floors. Tristan had seen worse though, and was not particularly offended by this sight. Besides, there was a pretty little thing silently wiping away at the table in the corner. He decided to look upon her to soothe his eyes for a while. She had long brown hair, let loose unlike the style of nobler women, who would tie their hair up in stiff buns or curls. Tristan had come to prefer the look of the baser women in his years of experience, they were generally more uninhibited and willing to please, an enthusiasm fuelled by the thrill that a lord would pay attention to them. The young woman, who could not have been more than nineteen years of age, he assumed, was dressed in a shabby barmaid's uniform. However, it did little to detract from her beauty, her fresh face, despite it being the wee hours of the night proved that her youthful glow was intact. She had large, blue eyes and a sweet, little mouth. She was quite small in stature, but Tristan could tell that she was well filled out in the places where he liked it best, as was evidenced by the way her old, ill fitting uniform strained tightly against her breasts. At another time, he would definitely have approached her and have her naked in his bed within an hour, but right now he was content to simply watch and appreciate her beauty from afar. He was a little old, and she was far too young so he decided to leave her be. She met his eyes for a brief second but looked away shyly, or perhaps it was in fright, he thought.

 

“No respect this wench's got!” shouted a voice suddenly, and the bartender came barging in. He gave the barmaid a hard shove which made her yelp. Tristan raised his eyebrows.

 

              “Can I help you, sir?” asked the bartender, noticing the knight was well acclaimed and probably had favours with the king. Tristan was disgusted with his tone, it was one he had encountered far too many times in his travels. It reeked of insincere respect and a greedy hopefulness for some extra money or reward.

 

              “One beer, please.” he responded curtly, not wanting to encourage conversation with the vile man who enthusiastically went up to fill a mug for Tristan. He resumed staring at the beautiful girl who had now moved on to cleaning the table a few feet away from him. Up close, she was even more attractive, he thought, and he looked at the way her face was in a slight frown as she tried to concentrate on the task at hand. Tristan noticed the way her breasts bulged through her dress as she bent down and exposed her ample cleavage. She saw him staring and her face became slightly pink as she tried to cover herself. This made Tristan chuckle. He always found a shy maiden delightful.

 

              But another shout disturbed his enjoyment of the scene in front of him.

 

“Get your lazy ass moving, you little bitch! That's a shit job you've done there, do it again.”

 

              Tristan was extremely irritated at the bartender, who was clearly abusing the poor girl just for the sake of it. He couldn't understand why anyone would want to hurt a sweet looking thing like her. He decided not to interfere though, perhaps the bartender was a relative - certainly not her father though - who was simply in a bad mood that day. But he noticed bruises on her arms, some light, some dark, and instinctively knew this abuse was every day for her. He sighed. He would give her some extra money before he left, perhaps recommend another job for her in some other village so she could escape a terrible fate.

 

              Her lips were pressed tightly to each other as she continued cleaning the tables yet again. Tristan was almost impressed at her ability to tolerate the loud, boisterous scolding of the bartender without retaliation. He finished his beer and kept looking at her work in an idle manner.

 

              “Well, what the fuck are you doing still wiping that table? Go ask our guest if he wants another drink! Are you fucking stupid?” asked the bartender. Tristan opened his mouth to say that's quite all right but before he could do anything, the bartender picked up the mug on his table and flung it at the girl, making her gasp in shock as it narrowly missed her face and instead hit her shoulder and fell to the ground, shattering into several pieces.

 

              Tristan could take it no longer. He swiftly got up and punched the bartender right on his nose. There was a loud crack as his cartilage broke, and blood began to leak from it. This was enough to leave him a sobbing mess on the ground and Tristan found him too pathetic to have any further interaction with. He kicked him aside roughly and went up to the girl who was looking at him wide-eyed in shock.

 

“Are you all right?” he asked, keeping a hand lightly on her shoulder.

 

She nodded.

 

“What's your name?”

 

“Tara,” she whispered. “Is he going to be all right? I was supposed to get my wages today.”

 

“You don't have to worry about that any more. My name is Tristan.” he answered.

 

              He took her hand and led her outside to the stables where he untied his horse and seated himself. He held his hand out to her, encouraging her to get on.

 

“I cannot leave this place, it is my home. Where do you plan to take me?” asked Tara, her apprehension clear in the way her entire body shivered.

 

              A sudden thud at the entrance of the inn made them both look behind them. The bartender was slowly walking up to them, “You bloody bitch, you better get back here. And make sure that fucker doesn't get away, he needs to pay for damages.” he shouted when he noticed that she was outside with the knight who had just assaulted him. Tristan raised an eyebrow at her, asking silently if this was what she really wanted to go back to.

 

              Tara knew this was the best decision she could take. After all, knights are noble, she thought, he has only been good to me so far. She grabbed his arm and swiftly got on the back of his horse as Tristan rode away with her. The sun was beginning to rise as well as the couple rode out at daybreak, leaving the bartender cursing them, having lost both money and a barmaid.

 

              Tara had her hands involuntarily wrapped tautly around Tristan's waist as she was never used to riding on a horse that was so fast. For some reason, feeling the weight of such a pretty girl behind him, clutching at him like that, began to make Tristan's cock stir. He started to ride faster in order to encourage her to grasp at him tighter and it worked, as she shut her eyes and leant her head against his back while he rode into the next village.

 

“That bartender – was he your father?”

 

“No sir. I am an orphan girl, he feigned generosity by giving me a job where I worked for no pay, only two meagre meals a day and a terrible little room to live in.”

 

“I see. Did he ever physically assault you...or in any other way?”

 

“Not apart from the beatings. I believe he was more inclined towards young boys.”

 

“Well, you're away from that wretched human being for good now.”

 

“I thank you for this, sir.” She hesitated as if she was embarrassed to keep talking. “I'm sure he would have killed me in one of his drunken states some day.”

 

“That would have been quite the loss.” Tristan said, looking back at the girl and meeting her eyes with his lustful glance.

 

              She blushed when she knew the meaning behind his eyes. He was really quite handsome, she thought. His hair was long for a man, greying at the ends in a way that was extremely appealing. His eyes were a piercing shade of green and seemed to bore into her every time he looked at her. His beard was slightly unkempt and there were scars of a hundred battles all over his face. He didn't look like the knights from her fairy tale books, but she found him far more attractive than the neat boyish handsomeness of the blond Prince Charmings of her stories.

 

              They reached the next village when it was early in the morning. Heading over to the local inn, which was far nicer than the one before, Tristan allowed Tara to walk in front of him. She took unsure steps, suddenly feeling frightened for her future. How would she begin to support herself in this completely new place? She had never stepped out of her village before. There was an old woman behind the counter who looked at them suspiciously. She assumed the pretty young girl must be a harlot of the older, distinguished looking knight.

 

“We would like a room for the day, please.” said Tristan to the woman.

 

              Tara looked at him in shock. Just a single room, she thought. She wasn't expecting it. Perhaps he planned to discuss with her what could be done for her new life. Although they certainly could not start anything in this village now as her reputation will be tarnished if she so much as took a step into the same room as him. The old woman already seemed to presume she was a prostitute, with her dress unintentionally exposing a fair amount of her breasts. But she did not question anyone, having been used to such couples entering, and she simply handed the keys over to Tristan, who took Tara upstairs.

 

              Unlocking the room, he stood aside to allow Tara to enter. She took nervous steps inside and held her breath when she heard Tristan shut the door behind her. Although she was not exactly scared, she knew a truly noble knight like him would not rape her. But this didn't stop her from feeling out of place. Not knowing what to do now, she shuffled about nervously and finally said,

BOOK: Conquered By The Knight: Historical Medieval Romance
11.87Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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