Alais' Settlement (Open for 1 male ~ PM first please)

[One Eyed Jack]

The more she held herself in check, the more determined he grew to break her. He would value her strong will, but only after it was bent to his wishes. But for all her determination, certain parts of her betrayed her resolve. The perfect nipples capping her pert breasts began to harden under his touch, and she flinched from sensitivity any time his finger got anywhere near her clit.

“If you insist on just laying there like some doll, I will show you nothing but what your country men expect from their brides. Only what your church approves.” A flicker dances across her eyes, though he was not sure if it was hope, hope to be granted something 'proper', of fear he'd really do it. If it was the former she truly had no idea of matters in her own world, much less those she would rule.

He pushed a thick digit inside her unspoiled sex, but forced her to look him in the eye. “I'm only willing to indulge your stubborn naivety so long Alais. Now which will it be tonight, a first lesson in giving and receiving pleasure, or only a quick act to seal our vows and rid you of your virginity?” He bent low to nibble at a firm pearl of her nipple, sucking it into his mouth while string up at her awaiting an answer.

 

[VelvetDarkness]

His arrogance and condescension were infuriating. Once again Cynric was chuckling and sneering about the church. She wanted his hands off of her, all Alais wanted right now was to be left alone to assimilate her sudden change in circumstances. Without really thinking through the wider implications of the choices he had laid before her, Alais simply muttered,

"Just make it quick and have this done." With none of her usual grace. Everything this man said and did unnerved her and she could take no more of his teasing and taunting tonight.

His hand stilled on her breast for a moment and with a sudden jolt of apprehension Alais wondered what was going to happen now. Her body tensed from head to foot, she could not prevent it.

 

[One Eyed Jack]

The girl was insistent on forcing the night to be something endured rather then moderate it with what he offered, but he had offered the choice. “Fine. Your way. We'll couple like your precious Church approves.”

He said no more but simpled turned over on top of her, and forced her legs apart. He stared down at her, almost daring her to go back on her decision. Not that he would allow it. His throbbing shaft jutted out at her as Cynic moved in, poised to forever removed poor Alais from the status of 'girl'.

There was no ceremony as he placed the head of his cock against her sex, and pressed in. He was slow, more for his own benefit, wishing to remember how his wife felt the first time she was taken, then for her. He pressed all the way, meeting resistance from her hymen until it gave way, and the rest of his entrance was assisted with the lubrication of her blood. He simple starred down at her as his hips rocked, thrusting himself in and out of her tight hole, bloody, hole. He did not otherwise touch her body, or comfort her. The tightness of her previously virginal body did it's job though, and soon he was spewing his seed deep into her newly christened womb.

As Cynric climbed off her, he shook his head at her, “Sex, my Duchess. Simple, without passion. Without excuse or enjoyment. Just as you and your precious religion would have it. It is acts like that that make me so glad to be a 'heathen', as your priest would put it.”

He walked away from the bed, and fetched the wine, pouring her a goblet as well which he left beside the bed as he washed her blood from his crotch and flopped down into a massive chair, truly tired after such a long day. He wished it would have ended better, but then, he had no right to expect such.

 

[VelvetDarkness]

Alais had been somewhat prepared for his entry by the kissing and sucking he had done to her sex but fear and pain had made her body clench on him like a vice. Cynric had felt absolutely enormous inside her and the pain of his entry had been compounded by the burning friction caused by his thrusts. His face had moved resolutely above her and his expression had fluctuated between exaggerated boredom and satisfaction that she was not enjoying being deflowered.

Alais had managed to keep silent but that was about as far as her composure went. This vile man had finally violated her and no matter what became of her now, she would never be a virgin heiress with options and prospects. The notion that she might fall pregnant from such an awful, loveless coupling was even more distressing.

When he had given a last, painfully deep thrust and frozen above her, Alais had felt liquid leave his penis and she had been horrified. It felt like he had urinated inside her, certainly he seemed to have lost control. The whole process of procreation thoroughly disgusted her and she had never been so mortified in her life. She was relieved when he pulled out of her, leaving a thick, blood tinged discharge dripping from her body. As he exited the bed, Alais turned from him and curled on her side, drawing her knees up towards her chest. There was a heavy soreness in her abdomen and she wondered if he had injured her somehow.

The last vestiges of her dignity had been lost. Alais began to weep quietly as he washed himself and flopped into a chair.

 

[One Eyed Jack]

The deed done, he gave her a minute without harassment, a small comfort, as he drank his wine and pondered the next move. He figured she might hold onto her faith, and remain soundly against him while clinging to her sacrificed lord. So, sick as it might be, he would have to plant further seeds of doubt in her mind that her very world view was wrong.

Personally, he could care less for what god she worshiped. The many who died in battle all bleed the same, no matter who they entrusted their soul to, and that was all he had truly known all his life. So many friends and enemies had different views that the matter seemed to be a personal one, until the Christians anyway.

Cynric walked to the door and sent someone to bring him the priest. Then he made his way over to his wife, and gently pushed her from the top sheet, and drug it from under her. Went a knock came at the door he simply handed it to the priest and slammed the door in his face.

Returning to the weeping woman he looked somewhat apologetic. “I required your hand in marriage to see my plans through. For that I make no excuses. I am sorry such an act was required by your church to seal our union.”

He offered the wine again, “It will help with the pain, and in hopes let you rest. Had I more time, I would have worked harder to see our first joining a more mutually pleasant one. In time, it shall become so.”

He stood and dressed once more, “I am certain you do not wish to see more of me tonight, and just as well as I shall be expected to celebrate my victory in battle. I've a maid stationed at the door, summon her for any need, great or small.” He was sure to put two of his best men at the door as well, and to instruct them to monitor the Duchess at all times.

He left, spending the rest the night drinking, shouting and toasting with his men, though the occasional thought went to his new wife up stairs.

 

[VelvetDarkness]

Alais lay there and cried for a while longer. She was sore and there was blood and fluid between her legs. The whole act from start to finish had been little short of revolting. Her thoughts turned momentarily to the feelings he had aroused in her beforehand but she quickly pushed this aside, determined to thoroughly hate her new husband. She wondered next if this mockery of a union would make her pregnant. To beget a child by such an undignified and loveless act would be terrible. Alais rose and went to the latrine. Choking back more sobs, she defiantly used her fingers to scoop out as much of the fluid inside her as possible. She grimaced and threw it down the pit before going to rinse her hands with the ewer and basin on the nightstand.

Finally, emotionally drained and exhausted after the double trauma of battle and a forced marriage, Alais climbed back into the bed and curled into a foetal ball. Within a few minutes, she was asleep.

 

[One Eyed Jack]

Hours upon hours of drinking ensued, with only one hasty young man, a servant under the former landlord, made a lunge for him with a sword. He was quickly dispatched, drug off, and the party resumed before others could come wipe the blood off the floor. Not bad, only one assassination attempt on the following his conquest.

Cynric did, however, grow tired of all the endless toasts to his health – both the heartfelt ones of his men, and the new men trying to prove their loyalty to him. He'd sooner trust the young boy that died tried to kill him earlier. At least he was honest. Still he had to use them all to rule effectively, and perhaps his new bride would truly be an asset in controlling the masses until he could prove his own worth as a leader and not just a butcher.

When the sun began to cast a dim light on all the ancient land, he decided the party was over, and arranged to meet various people later that morning, after a hearty breakfast. He'd be started with his new role before noon, which gave him enough time to catch a few hours sleep and possibly have his throat slit by his wife.

The large Celt entered his new bed chambers without announcement, uncaring if he woke the woman curled up on the bed. He washed his face, stripped, and walked to the large bed, availing himself of its soft, inviting, surface. Alais was there, and stirred, apparently trying to ignore his existence, and he chuckled at it. “You know, Wife, I will not simply go away. Either you come to accept me, and aid me, or perhaps we'll discover if you can take a man's life while he sleeps.” He chuckled again at that – he was betting she was far too perfect to even think such a thing. Maybe he just now put the thought in her head, which would only server to further break her down as she struggled with herself.

 

[VelvetDarkness]

"I would have preferred it if you had just taken mine." She hissed, only half under her breath. Unwilling to rouse or anger her highly inebriated new spouse, Sianna fell silent and stared sullenly at the wall hanging until she drifted off once more.

Even in her dreams she could not elude him. He came to her as a fairytale knight from the children's stories. He locked her in the dungeon he had found her in and swore she would not see the sun until she had born him an heir. Again and again he came to her and took her in the same loveless fashion. In her terror and anguish, it was Jack Marshall for whom she called. In her dreams he was hammering on the door to the dungeon stairs, calling for her as Cynric exercised his conjugal rights. Always with that hideous smug smirk pasted across his features.

 

[One Eyed Jack]

He heard, but ignored her, settling into the bed to sleep quite soundly. He had guards at the door, and every man between him and the potential unhappy conquered was loyal beyond question. The only danger he faced was that of his own wife, and he'd be damned before he needed a guard from his bride.

Cynric woke the next morning with a slight headache – understandable considering the amount of alcohol consumed the night before. It took some effort to drag his muscled body from the bed, only half noticing, and remembering the small woman he'd inducted into womanhood the night before.

He returned, after making use of the chamber pot, a quick wash from the basin, and stretched his limbs in front of the fire. “Does my wife intend to lounge about in bed all day, or to get up and be productive?” He yanked the covers off her. “If you mean to remain in bed, I shall join you...often. Else we can save that particular delight until later, and you can get dressed to accompany me today. We will make a display of how perfect a union our marriage is. You're presence will sooth your people – soothed people do not tend to rebel. I think we can both agree that avoiding any ill conceived attempt at rebellion would be best for everyone...I don't think our people could take another defeat so soon.

He stood at the bed waiting to see if she moved, or if he should climb in and mount her for another mating.

 

[VelvetDarkness]

Alais had thought to protest but Cynric threw back the covers and loomed over her threateningly, his gaze raking over her body with obvious intent. Her body tensed in its foetal curl and she glared up at him fearfully as her swollen womanhood clenched defensively. Alais got up out of the bed and moved around the room getting ready. She kept as much physical distance as possible between herself and Cynric.

"There is not one peasant in the land who does not know that this 'union' is nothing more than a cynical political manoeuvre. How to you intend to convince a living soul that your forcibly taken bride wouldn't slit your throat if she had the strength? You can force me to your bed but my mind and heart will remain unconquered. If rebellion is to come, nothing I say or do will prevent it. People were very loyal to my father."

She spat the words at him as she stormed around the room putting on her things and making herself decent. Anger was making her reckless. Alais had no intention of doing the slightest thing to facilitate Cynric's establishment here. People she had known and been fond of for years had been slaughtered pointlessly the day before so that he could swagger around and claim the duchy. He talked of peace to come but it seemed to Alais that peace would have come far sooner had he not interfered. What did it matter who ruled so long as there was peace and prosperity?

Her thoughts went to young Jack Marshall and Alais caught her breath as his image flew into her mind. He was so strong and brave and yet but recently knighted with no real experience of battle. It was too much to hope that he could have survived such a bloody and unchivalrous coup. If Cynric's sense of morality was any indication of how his men behaved it was a wonder anyone had lived to see his reign.

She shot Cynric a look of pure loathing. All of this was his doing. If she had to see Jack Marshall buried because of Cynric's avarice, she would never forgive him.

 

[One Eyed Jack]

As was becoming habit already, he laughed at his young, naive bride. “Yes dear,” the word itself full of sarcasm, “people were every loyal to your father. I could never have even contemplated taking this land if he still lived. If you'd properly married off even, the inhabitants would have backed the union simply in memory of him. But instead the king let that fool run the area into the ground, wasting your wealth, your fathers work, and the people's good will.”

He was ready far sooner then her, and stood at the door waiting while lecturing her. “Sir Walter was a fool, and people do not respect a fool. Now you will do your part to make the people respect the new situation, or you will watch them suffer due to your pride.” As she finished up, he grabbed her arm and pulled her closer to him. “Your defiance will only bring you and your people pain. You can try your little rebellions all you like in here, in private. Out there you will be, at the worst, resigned to your role. If you manage better, then your words will have greater weight to me, and thus to our people.” Again referring to his previous promise of her having a say under his rule.

But Cynric was not done with her, and pulled out a golden circle, its ends intricately carved into the shape of leafs, entwining to hold the loop closed. He pulled them apart and put the torque around her neck, letting the golden symbol close. “A symbol of our union, for those of our pagan people to see and understand their beliefs are welcome as are Christian. Privately, it may come to mean more. You will not removed it.” With that he took her arm, and led her out the door, to their awaiting people, beginning with a breakfast feast that doubled as a morning briefing. She was allowed to hear all the reports he was given as they shared their first meal together.

 

[VelvetDarkness]

Alais took no pleasure in breaking her fast with her husband but it was interesting to hear the reports he was receiving. Her father would never have thought to include her and Sir Walter had been even less interested in the whims of a pampered young heiress who could know nothing of men's affairs. She spoke little, except to clarify certain points or ask further questions. Cynric did not censure her and if the other men thought it odd that Alais should be so involved, they did not comment. It seemed Sir Walter had milked from her lands far more than had been his due and the crown had also dipped into their revenue, to the point where there was but little coin on hand for maintaining the lands and running the castle. Should hardship or famine befall them, there was nothing but an unimpressive amount of foodstores in reserve. Trade with neighbouring lands was being stifled and the recent troubles would further dissuade merchants. Alais listened with a heavy heart as all of this became clear to her.

More men came with news of other Dukes and senior noblemen's reactions to Cynric's victory. Alais was sat on the edge of her seat by this time, desperate to know whether Cynric's establishment here would see her people attacked by the King's armies or neighbouring Duchys. If he sent her away now, she would leave with very bad grace. She eyed her husband sidelong but he was impossible to read. His face was an implacable mask and it was clear that he would accept whatever news was brought him with equanimity and no small amount of determination.

 

[One Eyed Jack]

He listened, and was not at all surprised. The sad facts of the estate were the very reasons his attack had been so successful in the first place. But now those convenient issues were his problems to fix. At the very least, he figured, with the former masters removed, the land would stop bleeding out so fast.

“Lower the any tariffs on surrounding imports, and purchase as much reserve foods as we can. We've several towns to feed now, not merely an army that knows how to live off the land. Begin to employ able bodies in arms or construction. Leave the women, children and elderly to tend their livestock. At first people will be paid in food to eat, and later as our coffers recover, in coin. Any complaint will be easily remedied – coin will not go so far as bread in these times. Pay them if they so demand.”

He directed several roads, walls and bridges to put the newly recruited work forces to repair. Mass employment kept people busy, feeling productive, got needed work done, and fed families. Any grumbling up front would melt away into pride in their land. Generally, the lower classes cared very little who was in charge, so long as they ate and had something to be proud of.

As for news on how their neighbors took his invasion, it was actually surprising that none had set out to march yet. Every minute they hesitated gave him time to fortify his position. If they waited very long, it would amount to little more then an official objection. His envoy to the King would arrive in a few days, and should he still retain control by the time the response came back, likely he always would.

After the meetings he advised Alais that she could retire to her chambers if she did not feel her stomach up to the task of checking on the dead and wounded with him. Many were stunned by her refusal to leave, but Cynric himself was not. For all her reluctance to accept the situation, he could see she was made of tougher stuff then more of these Christian nobles.

They walked through the halls that served for treating the wounded, and he offered his prayers to his men and those of the injured defenders alike, ensuring they had just as good care as his own men. This, of course upset more then a few of his own, but he reminded them they were all bound by a common fate now. Yesterday's enemy is today's brother, simple as that. He noticed how the Duchess lingered over one particular soldier, a young man who bore more then a little resemblance to the knight who died defending the dungeon she was hidden away in. The boy suffered only a few scratches and a broken arm. He would live, at least for now. His eyes spoke of more hate then many others. Such passion often led to foolishness.

He hurried her away, finally to the field that the dead were laid out carefully. Groups of men working to keep the birds away while families and brothers in arms identified the dead, and did as they wished with them. He was silent, and respectful as he looked over the cloth covered bodies. He did not hide this inconvenient fact from his bride, keeping her at his side.

After a long, sober moment, he spoke, not bothering to look away from the dead and toward her. “I wish to avoid more of this. I will pay what price is needed, but I do hope that the future cost is small by comparison.” Finally turning to stare at her. “That ultimate price, of course, would depend on how much you encourage your country men to resist or come to your aid. Look over the field, wife, and make sure you know what it is you are prepare to do in the coming weeks.”

 

[VelvetDarkness]

It had been a hard day but Alais had learned a great deal about her new husband. She had wanted to find fault with the decisions he made but given the nature of his establishment here he had been moderate and shrewd. She had not been prepared to see so many dead. It seemed to Alais that there was a sea of bodies awaiting burial or the funeral pyre. She had agreed the arrangements with the apologetic priest who had married her. There was space in the graveyard of the castle chapel for only those of certain standing. Others would be interred at the churches in nearby villages and the town. A large communal pyre had been built for the majority of the remaining deceased and smaller fires would be lit for those of rank who had fallen and were not to be buried. It was a mammoth task and Alais assigned groundsmen, hired hands and every other able bodied man who could be spared from other duties. She set her own women to hemming linen for shrouds but some of the servants who had fallen would be stitched into flour and potato sacks. It could not be helped. The majority of the dead had to be buried or burned as they were before decay caused a contagion in those performing their last rites.

She had not expected her heart to leap quite so violently when she saw that Jack had survived. A heavy blow from a broadsword had split his shield and caused a deep gash in what was clearly a broken arm. It had been manipulated and splinted and Jack's pale countenance betrayed the pain it had caused him. He was half out of his senses on strong mead that he had been given to numb the pain. He spoke recklessly about Alais's sham of a marriage and his hatred of Cynric. Fortunately, Cynric had been out of earshot but the dark looks Jack had cast at him had been eloquent enough. Alais had been so relieved to see him whole that she had not chided him too much and it was with regret that she left him in the care of one of Cynric's own healers.

Cynric's words to her as they surveyed the sea of corpses and the mourners bathing, tending or standing vigil over them had angered her at first. She was not about to be held accountable for any further atrocity that was committed in Cynric's determination to hold his ground. She felt that she had but little influence on the people anyway. Why would they listen to a young girl who had been married for barely a candle-notch and knew little of politics and governance? Like as not they would assume she had been naively snared by her manipulative husband and think all the worse for her for showing support for him.

"My loyalty will always be towards peace and prosperity Cynric." She replied. "I care not who sits in the high seat as long as my people are safe. You may think that your brand of peace is of more value than the king's but to me it is not so. You are both avaricious men and both seeking your own success."

 

[One Eyed Jack]

He simply grinned, and nodded. “You are, of course, correct my dear. We're both seeking that which we desire, and I make no apologies for it. The low have always died due to the whims of the great. That's why it is important to be one of the great.” He knew his words, spoken for her benefit in a language not his own, were not as eloquent as he'd have liked, but the more people thought him a simple, uneducated brute the more easily they would be defeated.

But he turned, leading her from the field of death, back into the more comfortable rooms of the castle. “You will find I've no issue with your moral high ground, so long as you remain loyal to that peace as it stands now. To do otherwise would betray me, and more, your own words, for there would be a great deal of bloodshed. I suspect, in the coming weeks, you will be approached. The King has eyes and ears everywhere, or one could only hope. When this happens, consider your words well. Should you go on about you hardship in this marriage then the King may well try action against me. Should you accept it, he would have even less reason to attempt to retake it.”

A lunch was prepared, and he took his wife to this as well, showing her to the people – his as a trophy of the promised victory, to the Christians as a show of her new, seemingly peaceful status. Plus it had the bonus of her hearing the state of affairs. She might think her role small, but for one who's been in and around her people, she would soon prove, perhaps to herself, her value to him as an advisor – should she choose to share her thoughts.

After the meal, he was required to attend to the funerals of several of his fallen men. For this she was dismissed to do as she pleased within the castle walls – with the warning that she be ready and 'available' come nightfall, in their chambers.

************************************************​

Young Jack Marshal cursed again, then glared up as if daring the priest to say something of it. He'd just learned, that while the bone would regrow, there was the very real probability he would never be able to properly raise a shield again. He was useless as a soldier, the career of his beloved father no longer open to him. His heart was filled with a rage nearly as intense as his loathing or the barbarian that had come here, killed his father, and taken the young, beautiful Alais's as an unwilling bride.

True, despite his inappropriate fondness for the young woman, he never stood a chance of wedding her. As duchess, she was destined to be married to someone important of the king's court. But knowing he'd never have her, and knowing this heathen had come along and forced her hand, and that of a priest under the threat of death, set fire to his very soul. And how, HOW! could Alais agree to such a farce? Why not embrace death first then grant the beast any pretense of legitimacy?

Actually he felt rather conflicted on that point. His father had died to save her, but that had been pointless in the end, while her live had been saved, the duchy had fallen. Jack tried shook his head, and looked up at the priest, who was going on about faith, salvation, and setting a good example for their people to follow. Some of those words were getting though to him, but there was so much anger and confusion that no one got completely through to the young, and now Sir, Marshal.

 

[VelvetDarkness]

She could not help herself. After seeing him in pain, with so much anger and hatred in his eyes earlier that day Alais could not go fast enough to the makeshift infirmary after Cynric had dismissed her. The healers and chirrugeons there were occupied with a man who was having some kind of seizure. Nobody noticed her enter and as Duchess, she could go wherever she wished without censure anyway. Jack was resting on a pallet on the floor, his splinted arm protruding from his straw mattress as he lay on his back and snored. Alais approached quietly enough but his eyes flickered open and he endeavoured to sit up a little.

"Please don't bestir yourself." She said, moving to support his head and arrange his pillow more comfortably. "How fares my Sir Marshall now that the pain of binding your arm is over?"

"Would that were the only pain I have to endure." He replied, with more bitterness than Alais could have thought possible in a man of his years. "Here I am laid up and useless. They say I shall never hold a shield again, there has been too much damage. My first battle will be my last. You have been forced into wedlock with that heathen barbarian and my father... " Here he faltered and struggled to maintain his composure.

"T'is very early indeed for them to predict how well you will heal so assuredly. You may yet recover fully in time. You are young and strong." She dropped her gaze slightly as she continued, aware that he would probably take her words badly. "Cynric is indeed a heathen barbarian but... I have seen his plans for the future of the land and I have also learned more about the King's troubles and how he wars across the narrow sea with his sons and the Dauphin of France. Here, we represent nothing more to King Henry than revenue. He has no time to cast his eye to our development and prosperity and it has been so for all the years since his eldest heir came of age."

It was only as she spoke these words to reassure Jack that Alais realised that she believed them to be true. Vocalising her thoughts made them more real somehow.

"If King Henry had seen to my settlement, it would have been to a knight in his dotage whose loyalty to the crown was well proven. These lands would have been governed by a man who had been put out to pasture. I would bear heirs to a man perhaps old enough to be my grandsire and he would live high off the backs of our people for no merit other than past service to a King I have never laid eyes on. Cynric is a man in the prime of his years. He can work for this land and improve it, stabilise the area and protect it. Henry has given no thought to security this far north of London. We are at risk from the celts unless we form alliances with them and also the picts of the north-" Jack interrupted her, cutting into her thoughts.

"Have you such a short memory Alais? Care you not for the Christian values that your father died for? Your father, may he rest in peace, had loyalty to the King. The King of England has his establishment blessed and ordained by the Papal head of the Holy Roman Church himself." His voice rose as he became angrier. "Will you really commit such blasphemy by denying his royal authority? Have you whored your soul as well as your body!?"

Alais slapped him. It was forceful enough to sting and she reacted so swiftly that the movement was almost reflex. She moved away from Jack and realised to her intense embarrassment that other people were starting to look her way. Jack lowered his voice again, beckoning her closer.

"I am sorry my Lady... I should never have spoken thus, please believe me. You do not have to subjugate yourself to that whoreson for longer than is needful. Your Christian duty as a married woman should not carry you so far. You were forced into marriage Alais, you have no duty to that man." Jack looked around and whispered even more quietly. "I can help you. Within a few days I'll be up and walking around. My shield arm is injured but my sword arm is not. I can end this ordeal for you... end your marriage for you and leave you free to marry as the King wishes. I am a knight and the battle is not yet won. I am not trained merely to sit a horse and swing a sword like a cudgel... I can dispatch Cynric swiftly and cleanly so that no man alive will be able to say how he fell."

Alais was already shaking her head but in a dark corner of her mind, she wondered if it were really possible.

"Please think on it Lady." He said. "This is a decision of politics, not of the heart. You are the Duchess of Striguil and many lives depend upon your good judgement."

Alais excused herself and returned to her chamber. It was oppressive seeing Cynric's things all over the place, they jarred and crowded her thoughts. Could she really have him assassinated? If Jack had offered her that option on her wedding night she might well have agreed. Her thoughts were in consternation and she fetched her prayer breads and sat down to reflect on everything. Was she really blaspheming against God by supporting Cynric? What business did God have to do with politics anyway? How could she know which was the right path to take? How could God desire her to commission the murder of her husband, who she had sworn oath to in God's own sight? Was she about to betray the memory of her father and all he stood for? Should she agree to Jack's scheme?

It was all so confusing and Alais sat quietly with her warring thoughts.

 

[One Eyed Jack]

With the funerals complete, the survivors saying their goodbyes to their friends, Cynric was finally able to start seeing to other affairs. Not that he was totally unmoved by the loss of life, but he was practical. Crying over the dead did nothing for them, for you, or for anyone else. He simply made sure they had a proper burial, or funeral pyre, depending on each man's wishes, and went on with business.

And the first order of business was seeing to the steady stream of new villagers. The families of his army were now starting to trickle in, boosting the Duchy's population. They would need places to stay, places to work. Integrating them into the current, Christian population would likely have its challenges, but he was certain that in the end, each would prove useful to each other. If only they didn't burn the villages down around themselves first.

He had a list of priorities already established, and began assigning men to oversee them. Those men in turn could recruit work forces as best they were able. Roads, bridges, defenses – both repairing and building new. These would employ both pagan an Christian alike. Others would be left to farm, rebuilding their stores before winter. This first season would be hardest, but should they make it, the following years should get progressively easier as the soil was properly tended.

It had been a long day by the time he was able to retire to his chambers, and the barbarian chief was very much looking forward to exploiting his new wife again. He found her in their bed chamber, kneeling with her prayer beads, causing a smirk to creep across his face. “Goo d evening wife,” was his simple greeting as he entered.

Again he called for a bath, the large tub being brought into the room with buckets of hot water for him to relax in, and rid himself of the day. It was rare, and costly, he knew – but this was the only luxury he truly enjoyed, and so he would do so often. He offered to have a bath brought in for her as well.

“How was your day Alais? Not too troubling I hope?” He was at least kind enough to hear her thoughts before moving on to her 'duty'.

 

[VelvetDarkness]

Alais elected to be honest with him but only up to a point. A man such as Cynric would probably have minions who could account for her every step this day.

"I went to the infirmary and saw some of the people there." She replied. "It is always distressing to bear witness to so much pain and suffering."

She rose and moved towards him, helping him to undress for his bath. Cynric's hauberk and gambeson were hung in a corner of the room. The celtic work was less ornate than that of Christian nobles but it was well made, a good fit and well oiled and maintained. His victory here had been brutal and a more cautious man would have worn his armour this past few days. Cynric had not done so however, though his heavy leather overtunic looked as though it might offer a degree of protection.

He raised an eyebrow at her willingness to help him strip but there was no trace of desire in Alais's eyes. She was too troubled and ambivalent in her feelings for her new husband. Mundanities like helping him bathe would hopefully spare her too much pointed conversation.

~x~​

Jack Marshall tossed and turned on his pallet. He had spent most of the day in a herb induced stupor and now he was restless and bored. It seemed that Alais had been manipulated and deceived by her husband to such a degree that she did not view her marriage to a heathen as utter heresy. She would not have the guts to let him kill Cynric, he would have to take matters into his own hands... well... remaining good hand anyway. Once his poisonous pagan influence was removed, surely Alais would see reason and be grateful to Jack for saving her. Jack dwelt for a moment on how that gratitude would be manifest in his ideal world. He imagined Alais's soft white skin in his hands, the taste of her lips and how it would feel to have her lithe body sheathing his cock. If he closed his eyes, Jack could recall the scent of her hair as she had bent over him that morning. He moaned and grasped his swollen cock beneath his coverlet.

Another image cut into his thoughts, of Cynric with Alais, lying atop her, parting her thighs and rutting his heathen Celtic manhood into her delicate, vulnerable sex. The notion of Alais bearing his bastard hellspawn was absolutely revolting. With no small amount of effort, Jack heaved himself from his pallet and pulled on a tunic and braies. A maid hurried over to him.

"Sir Marshall, can I assist you? You should not be leaving your pallet sire." Jack ignored her, lacing his braies with difficulty. He had been knighted but recently before the battle and hearing himself addressed as 'Sir Marshall' still gave him a thrill. He was a sworn vassal of the Lady Alais and he would do his duty, whether the young duchess knew what was best for her or not.

"I have been abed all day. I must use the midden." Jack thought a little longer on that. If he did not return promptly from his call of nature, she would worry and search for him. "Father Almaric said I might visit him this evening. My father died unshriven and every man perform acts in the heat of battle that cause him disquiet."

"Yes sire, as you wish." She murmured, moving away.

Jack moved as quietly as he was able through the keep to the suite of rooms that he still thought of as Alais's father's. After suffering the blow of Cynric's victory, surely King Henry would be extremely grateful to a Christian knight who restored the duchy to the kingdom? Why should he not then ask for Alais's hand as a reward? Henry would want the girl safely married off and it was clear that she was weak willed and required a strong husband. No nobleman at the king's court would want a duchess that some Celtic usurper had defiled. Henry Rex would be glad to see Alais settled safely to a loyal young knight. The thought spurred him on.

Jack reached a room adjacent to the great bedchamber that Alais's maidservant slept in. The formidable Wulfhild, formerly Alais's governess, was sitting below stairs in the kitchens, eating her supper and gossiping with other upper servants. The partitioning wall was wood pannelled and quite thin here, so that a servant might be called for and hear the summons. Jack sat and listened, a short sword pilfered from a sleeping man at arms grasped in his hand. He had no real plan as yet but he could not suffer Alais to spend another night with that barbarian.

 

[One Eyed Jack]

He was surprised, and grinned as the wife that hated him helped him from his clothing, and into he tub. Be it she was plotting his death, and putting him at ease, or was coming to accept her fate with some grace. Either way, he could be amused by the moment.

Cynric followed her movements, watching the young, beautiful woman, as he lowered himself into the water and let the servants scrub him clean. She made no gesture at all of eagerness, but nor did she fight with him.

Once his bath was complete, and the tub and servants removed, he walked over to her, naked as the day he was born. “You wear to much to bed my Alias. I would be pleased to see your body again..” He stood there, leaving it as a 'suggestion' and watched her for reaction. The thought of seeing her in nothing but the torque he'd put around her neck was enticing enough to already make his cock grow thicker with hot blood.

 

[VelvetDarkness]

Alais nodded, removed her wimple and started unbinding her hair from the thick plaits wrapped around her head. With the wimple removed Cynric's torque around her neck was clearly visible. Once her hair was unbound, Alais turned her attention to the lacings on her gown. She was keeping one eye on Cynric, who moved around the room restlessly, naked and sipping from a goblet of wine. HIs gaze had turned predatory and she knew he wanted to couple with her again. Alais was still ambivalent about the way he took his marital rights and so she did not hurry with the layers of her complicated clothing. If he was annoyed at her lack of desire and urgency, he kept it to himself.

~x~​

Jack listened as the scene played out in the bedchamber. There was no turning back now. Wulfhild was a creature of habit and would likely be back here before the next candlenotch. Even if he left now, Jack would run the risk of being spotted in the vicinity of the Lord and Lady's chamber for no good reason, whereupon Cynric would have the opportunity to increase his personal security. Only a fool or a madman would have strutted about unarmed after such a bloody battle but it seemed Cynric had the favour of whatever pagan deity he worshipped. Wagers were being cast all over the castle on how long he would live and what King Henry would do once word of Cynric's audacity reached the south.

Hearing the command in Cynric's tone and Alais's quiet acquiescence made Jack's blood boil. How had the woman so lost sight of her Christian duty that she would lie with such an irredeemable heathen? Jack's grip tightened on the sword once more and he stood and moved to the door that lead straight into the sitting room adjacent to their bedchamber. His movements were quiet and assured. Cynric would be naked, unarmed and with his guard lowered, there was no need for Jack to worry about being unable to carry a shield or much defend himself with his left arm. He pressed his ear to the door and listened to the sounds of Alais undressing, mentally picturing her beautiful body.