Authors: D. Sallen
Chapter 16
“
Our Great Medicine is not here!
”
Chapter 17
…
crescendo of pain to my brain!
Chapter 18
Witch-Mate carries my Witch-Child.
Epilogue
In the wilderness of the New World, three times I dreamt of a mysterious, red-haired girl.
…Feeling around in the dark, my hand found the edge of Leahna’s pallet. I lifted her cover enough for me to slip in with her.
“Hanhh? Squire? Squire? What you do?”
I had my left arm around her and slid my right hand up to cup her magnificent breast. “Coyote not come back. I pleasure you now.”
Now I let go of her breast and slid my hand down to part her legs. When I got between them and she could feel my stallion she screamed, “NO, NO! YOU NOT DO!”
At the same time she twisted partially out from under me. She
jammed
her knee into my testicles!
“OOOOHHHHHOOWWW!”
Now it was my turn to scream! In excruciating pain I doubled over. With her feet and hands she shoved me off her pallet.
When I thought I had control of my voice again, I said, “Why you hurt me, Leahna? Coyote gone. I pleasure you.”
“NO! You put bone-thing in me! Give me baby. NO, NO! I not want baby!”
“You not fear Coyote give you baby?”
“How Coyote give baby? He not use bone-thing. He only give girls pleasure.”
“You keep saying that. What does he do that is so great?”
“I told you he magic. He have magic girls love.”
“I don’t know what you talk about.”
“Humph. You have to learn. You learn his way, maybe you pleasure girls. Maybe not. You not have tongue like Coyote.”
I nearly chocked. Did she mean Coyote gamahuoched her? That’s where her pleasure came from? Stunned by the implication of her words, I felt light headed. “Do you mean he not use his ‘bone-thing,’ as you call it, only his tongue?”
“Yes. Only for girls. Not for wife-mate. Not do it after man has ‘bone-thing’ in her. Then Coyote use ‘bone-thing’ in squaws.”
So he only pleasured maidens but rogered wives. Then despite the intense sexual pleasure she had enjoyed, did Leahna still have her maidenhead? I sure wanted to find out, for myself.
“Since he can be man or animal, can he pleasure when he is animal?”
“He say so. Not with me. Maybe with some girl. He want to with me. Charm stop him. Must do what I say.”
I was so puzzled. A Coyote Witch goes around ‘frenching’ young girls, virgins only. But what for? “What pleasure does Coyote get from pleasuring a girl?”
“His ‘bone-thing.’ It squirt hard. He say it feel good. Girl must not let squirt get on her leg.”
“And if it does…does she have baby coyotes?”
“No. You foolish. Girl cannot have puppies.”
“Even if he pleasures a girl when he’s an animal…and his squirt gets on her leg?”
There was a long silence. “No, no no! You not say that! I not know. You be quiet. I not know. Do not ask. Go to sleep.”
Was Coyote going to be an obstacle on my way to the Holy Grail?
He appeared out of the shadows by the altar. His dark shape floated toward me. Pale faced black holes of eyes stared into mine. I dropped to my knees. Closer, I could
see it had a living man’s face…not a skull. He stopped two paces in front of me. The torches in sconces on the walls shed little light. If not for a full moon shining through the missing roof, he would have been invisible. In a voice that sounded like a death rale he said, “William Allen, you have been chosen. What say ye?”
Phew…appeared like a ghost from the ruined abbey, but could it really be a phantom?
He had to be
powerful, so I stayed on my knees. “I will take the quest. I will find the Holy Grail.”
He extended his ghostly hand and I kissed the ring of the Archbishop of Salisbury.
“Well said, William Allen. And I wish you God Speed.” He turned and floated back into the shadows.
Still on my knees, I wondered if I was crazy to take on this task. Raised a Christian, yet I had some doubts. My father said University had warped my mind.
Footsteps approached me from behind. “You can get up, Bill.” I felt Colonel Throckmorten’s hand on my shoulder. “Now I reckon you can see why the secrecy.”
“Aye, but did he have to scare the jollies right out of me? And this setting, Glastonbury Abbey? It’s a right ruin, even in daytime. And who was that actor? I thought Salisbury was murdered by Welsh brigands not three years ago.”
“Salisbury? You think you saw Salisbury? That’s not possible. Certainly he was not the man who was supposed to see you.”
“I kissed his ring!”
“This is puzzling, most puzzling. A high churchman wanted to see you, but no ghost. Well I suspect his eminence is a bit of a ham. Gave you a start, didn’t he? In any case I must have sold you to him.”
“I’m not sure I want to thank you, Sir. Can I really believe all that stuff you dropped on me? The Welsh in America? How does he know? How did they get there?”
“You’re learning a little about politics now, m’ boy. He has spies everywhere.”
The way the Colonel briefed me earlier that day was this:
“Several hundred years ago, Welsh rascals stole the Holy Grail from the Grail Well nearby Glastonbury Tor. They carried it to a secret place in Wales. Then three hundred years ago,
a Welsh Prince Madoc sailed to the New World and took the Grail with him.”
“Sir, can you be sure of that? A mad Scottish prisoner told me the Holy Grail was secreted near Edinburgh, in a chapel pillar.”
“You can’t believe a crazy Scot. Oh, I dare say, my informant is certain of the facts.”
“Hold on a minute, Colonel. Are you saying those Welsh bods got to America before Columbus?”
“My contact says it’s so. Their colony is on some great river somewhere west, and probably north of Jamestown. Can’t be too many big rivers over there. Maybe it flows out to the China Sea. You’ll need to be aware of the Spanish. Juan Pardo ventured north from the Gulf of Mexico, and supposedly set up a fort in what they called Tennessee. We reckon they’re somewhere to the west of Jamestown. Also, the Norse are thought to be in northern America. Doubt if they have anything to do with the Grail.”
“That’s some geography lesson, Colonel. But why are you telling me?”
“Because of your many manly, and shifty attributes, I’ve volunteered you to go to America, find the bloody Welsh, steal the Grail, and bring it back to England.”
“Bloody Hell, Colonel!
You’ve got to be funning! Me? Go to America, find the Welsh and steal a holy cup? How am I going to do that?”
“Very sneakily, I reckon. If anyone is up to it, you’re the one, m’boy”
“Sir, what is it with this ruddy Grail that’s so important?”
“The Holy Grail is the silver cup, or chalice, that the Lord drank from at the Last Supper. The same one Joseph of Arimathea used to collect drops of blood dripping from Jesus on the cross. In AD 37 Joseph brought the Grail to Glastonbury. It was the cause of many legends, particularly about King Arthur’s Knight’s of the Round Table. Supposedly Sir Galahad used it to commune directly with God. It has magical properties to cure all manners of evil, blesses anyone who sees it, and therefore has tremendous power for whomever controls it. Some time along the way, one of Joseph’s descendants, a guardian of the Grail, gazed upon the form of a young maiden with evil in his heart. An angel appeared from a cloud, wrested the chalice from the guardian, and secreted it in the Grail Well. The Grail disappeared.”
We were sitting in a private room at the Thistle and Rose in Glastonbury Town when the Colonel told me about this lark. He went on to say, “Some very powerful people have put a great deal of thought into this venture. I can’t tell you who, or any specific details, until I know for sure if you want to have a bash at it.”
“Right, Sir, and what are the ‘unspecific’ details?”
“Your sponsors will make arrangements for you to sail to Jamestown, ostensibly as a hunter/explorer. So you won’t have to steal any from Jamestown, you’ll take your own horses on the ship with you. You will stay in that area until you know the lay of the land, and can learn from the Red-Indians where the Welsh may be. I suggest you drop a hint that you’re there to look for gold. That will give you an excuse to explore farther a field.”
“I don’t know, Sir. This sounds like a pipe dream to me.”
“You’ll be promoted from Brevet Leftenant to Permanent Leftenant, and the pay that goes with it.”
“Now this plan sounds very reasonable. If anyone in England can do it, I’m your lad.”
“I didn’t mention modesty as one of your attributes.”
“Sir, and what
did
you tell these powerful people about me?”
“Pretty much your history as known. William Allen, age 28. You’re the second son of an impoverished gentleman who provided you with a fine education, but nothing else. Denied a cavalry commission because your father couldn’t buy it, you enlisted. For gallantry in the field of battle you were promoted to temporary Leftenant. You can read, are an excellent swordsman, a marksmen, and in your regiment, unbeaten at wrestling.
Before enlisting you had some apprentice training in surveying and map making. Have I left anything out?”