“My lady, I have no experience whatsoever with-”
“You have never?”
“Never.”
“Here, then,” she said, and she rolled astraddle him and reached down and guided him in.
“Oh!” he said, and, “Oh!” just as did Liaze.
In the meadow that warm afternoon, with sunlight shining down, a stallion and a mare cropped the sweet, sweet grass.
Dennis L. McKiernan
Once Upon an Autumn Eve
11
They lay side by side in Luc’s bed, and by the flame of a single candle they looked upon one another. Twenty-one more days had passed, and often they had made love, and every night they slept in each other’s arms. Gently, Liaze had guided him, and Luc had learned quickly, and their passion had grown with each passing day.
Liaze reached up and brushed back a stray lock of Luc’s dark hair, and then tenderly cupped his cheek in her hand. “What are you thinking, cheri? ”
Luc took her hand away from his cheek and held it in both of his and said, “I believe my errantry has ended but a few days after it began, for here I have found the only thing worthy of quests.”
“And what might that be, Luc?”
“True love, my lady, true love.”
“And for this you would give up errantry?”
“I ask: what is errantry, ma cherie? And I answer: nought but a roaming search for adventure.”
“But you are a man, and men crave excitement.”
“And I suppose women don’t?” asked Luc.
Liaze laughed. “Oh yes, we crave excitement, but perhaps of a different sort. Women don’t usually run about and bash at Dragons, as do the heroes of the old sagas.”
Now Luc laughed and looked into Liaze’s eyes, dark in the candlelight. “Methinks those who tell such tales have never come upon a Dragon.”
Liaze sat up in surprise, the sheet falling from her breasts and down to her thighs. “And you have?”
“Mmm, what?” said Luc, his gaze now elsewhere.
Liaze laughed a throaty laugh, and she reached out and took his face in her hands and tilted his gaze up and away from her bosom, and he grinned mischievously. Liaze said, “I asked, Sieur Knight, have you seen a Dragon?”
“Um, yes, nigh a year ago.”
“Tell me, then.”
Luc said, “Well, it was as I was training upon Nightshade that there came a skreigh from above, and when I looked up, there it was, high in the sky, its vast wings rowing the air. A dark ruddy color were its scales, with splashes of obsidian glittering here and there, and it was enormous; that I could tell, even though it was far aloft, for-and here is the unbelievable part-I swear it had a rider, a man, astride at the base of the Drake’s neck, there where the nape meets the shoulders, just ahead of its widespread wings. It was a Dragon, all right, yet, because it had a rider, I think I might have dreamt it, even though I thought I was awake.”
Liaze laughed. “It was no dream, my love. What you saw was the Drake Raseri and the rider was the Elf Rondalo.”
“Raseri? Rondalo?” said Luc. “But the tales say that they are mortal enemies.”
“Once, perhaps, but no more, for Camille laid the enmity to rest.”
“You must tell me how she did so,” said Luc.
“I will,” said Liaze, “after.”
“After?” asked Luc.
Liaze smiled. “Yes, after.”
“Oh,” said Luc, then he grinned, too, and added, “indeed after,” and he took her in his arms.
A fortnight later, “I tell you, Zacharie,” said Remy, “this Luc is a marvel, he is. I’ve never seen a finer hand with a rapier, and I’ve seen more than a few. Over these past fourteen days he’s taught my warband and your houseguard a thing or three with a blade… cudgels, too.”
“War axes and hammers as well,” added the steward.
They watched the men drill under Luc’s tutelage-shields and bucklers, now. After a while, Remy said, “Be a good thing if the princess marries him.”
Zacharie nodded and said, “She’s heels over head in love, you know.”
“How can you tell?” asked Remy, feigning seriousness, and Zacharie looked at the armsmaster askance, and then they both broke out in laughter.
“What is so joyous?” said Liaze, smiling, as she walked up from behind, Tutrice Martine at her side.
“Er, nothing, my lady,” said Remy, giving the princess a slight bow.
Martine looked through disapproving eyes at Zacharie and said, “Is this one of your vile men’s stories?”
“You could call it that,” said Zacharie.
“You don’t want to hear this, Princess,” said the matron, and she raised her hands as if to cover Liaze’s ears.
Liaze shook her head and lifted an eyebrow at her former tutrice, and Martine let her hands fall back to her sides and huffed and turned away.
They stood and watched as Luc-shirtless, his amulet swinging with his moves-demonstrated the various ways of the shield bash, as well as how the edge of the shield could become a terrible weapon true. And he showed how a small, round buckler could be thrown, to sail far and bring down a foe at range, especially one that is fleeing.
“This man of yours,” said Remy without thinking, “he’s a wonder, and that’s a fact.”
“He is at that,” said Liaze.
“Oh, my lady, forgive me,” said Remy. “It’s just… well… you know. Not that I’m saying he’s your man. Instead, what I mean-”
“I know what you mean, Armsmaster,” said Liaze, smiling, “and all of it is true. Luc’s asked me to marry him, and I will, as soon as my sire and dam come here on their annual rade, for a king must be notified, and I would rather it were him than any other. After that, the banns must be posted and a hierophant found, and then Autumnwood Manor will see a wedding.”
Martine, who had been gazing through slitted eyes at the agile chevalier, spun around to face the princess. “But he is a common knight,” objected the tutrice, “and you know nothing of him. You deserve better: a duc… or a comte, at least.”
“Martine, he is anything but common, though I do admit there is a mystery concerning his birth and parentage.”
“I say send him on his way, for he could be a bastard child,” said Martine, fairly spewing in ire.
Remy looked at Martine and said, “And he could just as well be a king.”
“Hmph!” huffed the matron, turning to Liaze. “For all we know, he could be your half brother.”
Liaze turned a cold eye toward Martine. “Are you accusing my sire, King Valeray, of infidelity? Or my mother, Queen Saissa? Take care, for their bond is strong and well known, as is the lineage of their offspring.”
Martine blenched. “No, no, Princess. I’m accusing no one of anything. It’s just that we know nought of this upstart chevalier’s parentage.”
“And I say it matters not,” said Liaze.
Unbelieving, Martine blew out air in angry puffs. “Princess, I-”
“And when might this wedding occur?” interrupted Zacharie.
Liaze glanced at the red and gold leaves gracing the nearby woods. “In autumn,” she said and laughed and
