Ambrosia_64
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Jul 21, 2011
- Posts
- 880
They had lost. What remained of her men braced the door as the roughened men threw themselves against the other side, demanding entrance.
Queen Ysolde looked around at the gathered old and young, the women huddled with their children, the townspeople who had not fled fast enough into the wilds.
All of them would die unless she made some sort of bargain, pleaded for the lives of her townsfolk. They had been loyal, she would suffer the humiliation if it saved their lives.
And her daughter...
"You are no relation to me." She hissed to the frightened, steely young woman, silencing her protests with a look. "You are no one. If our village survives, you will lead whomever you can into the plains and start fresh. For now, you let me make my tribute alone."
And she pushed her daughter into the crowd of villagers, willing her to blend in, to be one of them.
The doors buckled, men rushed in-and she found herself faced not with a warlord or a man of authority-but a bloodthirsty gang of marauders.
....
Screams echoed through out the encampment and into the night as women were pulled from the walls of the meeting house, their clothing torn from them as they were tossed aside, abandoned for the sword bearing Queen.
"You will NOT do this!" Ysolde demanded with all the airs afforded to her-even as they threw her to her knees and pulled her hair, forcing her taut-not in front of her people, not in front of her dau-
A Valkyrie war cry startled all of them as Ria, the queen's fair daughter, threw herself at the nearest attacker, pulling his knife and stabbing him in the shoulder. She retrieved the small blade, jumped off his back-and turned to face the next man, the tear tracks on her fair face shimmering in the torchlight, her fury twisting her features, blazing in her dark eyes.
Such a slip of a girl could never hope to overcome half a dozen armed brutes, however-and things looked grim indeed for all parties involved, even as the bloodied queen struggled to kick off the man sitting on her hips, to come to her brave but foolish daughter's aid.
Queen Ysolde looked around at the gathered old and young, the women huddled with their children, the townspeople who had not fled fast enough into the wilds.
All of them would die unless she made some sort of bargain, pleaded for the lives of her townsfolk. They had been loyal, she would suffer the humiliation if it saved their lives.
And her daughter...
"You are no relation to me." She hissed to the frightened, steely young woman, silencing her protests with a look. "You are no one. If our village survives, you will lead whomever you can into the plains and start fresh. For now, you let me make my tribute alone."
And she pushed her daughter into the crowd of villagers, willing her to blend in, to be one of them.
The doors buckled, men rushed in-and she found herself faced not with a warlord or a man of authority-but a bloodthirsty gang of marauders.
....
Screams echoed through out the encampment and into the night as women were pulled from the walls of the meeting house, their clothing torn from them as they were tossed aside, abandoned for the sword bearing Queen.
"You will NOT do this!" Ysolde demanded with all the airs afforded to her-even as they threw her to her knees and pulled her hair, forcing her taut-not in front of her people, not in front of her dau-
A Valkyrie war cry startled all of them as Ria, the queen's fair daughter, threw herself at the nearest attacker, pulling his knife and stabbing him in the shoulder. She retrieved the small blade, jumped off his back-and turned to face the next man, the tear tracks on her fair face shimmering in the torchlight, her fury twisting her features, blazing in her dark eyes.
Such a slip of a girl could never hope to overcome half a dozen armed brutes, however-and things looked grim indeed for all parties involved, even as the bloodied queen struggled to kick off the man sitting on her hips, to come to her brave but foolish daughter's aid.