The woman didn’t pause at the end of the bed. Without breaking her glide, she stepped up and crossed the mattress until she was standing over him. The grey light from the high arched window undressed the shadows from her. She was naked, her sex open and wet, breasts like towering mountains high above him. He didn’t recognise her—not from this angle. “Who are you?” he croaked.
“Botha.” Her voice was deep and throaty.
“Botha.” He repeated the name again, “Botha.” It wasn’t a very pretty name. Why couldn’t it be something like Crystal? She straddled him, gripping him with strong thighs. “My name’s…” Goron didn’t finish; a breast was forced into his mouth. Just one more fling before I make my vows to Anwen.
A whisper opened Goron’s eyes. Was he still dreaming? The room was full of women. Every woman he knew in the castle. He smiled and opened his arms. He had enough love for them all. His affection for them wasn’t returned, though. They glared down at him, some whispering to those around them, others shaking their heads in disappointment.
The woman in his bed stirred and mumbled in her sleep. He’d forgotten about her, Crystal, or whatever her name was. Anwen’s not going to like that, he thought.
“How could you? She’s revolting. You’re both revolting,” Anwen said.
The others murmured in agreement.
That was harsh, Goron thought. From what he’d seen of Crystal, she was spectacular. He looked across to her to refresh his memory and recoiled in fright. Crystal was hideous. She looked like a fat plucked turkey. Had he really been that drunk he’d thought her a nubile goddess?
“Your standards are getting low,” Morwen said. More murmurs of agreement came from the other women.
“And to think I wanted him to fill me up with babies,” a plain-looking kitchen hand, whose name Goron didn’t even know, said.
“I let him sweet talk me into his bed last year. Now he’d be lucky if he could chat his way into a sow’s pen.” The face looked vaguely familiar.
“That’s nothing. I was going to marry him,” Anwen said.
“Ladies, please,” Goron said, his voice cracking. “I never slept with this…this thing.” Images of his sexual antics with Crystal flashed in his mind. His lips curled in disgust.
“My name’s Botha,” the demon said woken by the commotion from the bevy of women.
“That’s not all, Goron,” Morwen said. She was at the foot of the bed presiding over the court. Her dark robe billowed around her—caught in some spectral draught.
“Oh, me, can I please tell him?” Anwen said. Morwen nodded. “We’ve cursed you too. Your love life is forever doomed.”
Goran had heard how powerful warlocks’ curses could be. His gut clenched and acid surged up his throat. He was going to heave again. Where was his stomach finding all this food? He threw back the blankets and, naked, stumbled to his feet. Before his feet began their journey to the latrines, only one minute away, a spray of foul-smelling slops splattered over the hems and shoes of the disgusted women.
Defeated, Goron hung his head in shame, “Anwen please, you’re the only woman for me.”
“The only person, you’ll be touching is yourself,” Anwen said. The room emptied. As Anwen swept past, Goron dropped to his knees and clasped the hem of her dress. She snatched it from him and followed the other women, slamming the door behind her. Goron stared at his vomit-smeared hands then raised his eyes to the demon in his bed, grotesque in the grey light.
Goron hated guard duty. He could be chasing pretty women, getting drunk, or even sleeping. Anything was better than standing on the ramparts in the steel wind and darkness. Still, the illusion that he was one of many guards had to be maintained. He shivered and pulled the hood of his woollen cloak over his head. Normally he wouldn’t deprive the women folk of the opportunity to admire his handsomely rugged face and lustrous, golden hair, but what did it matter anymore?
Tonight’s shift was worse than normal. Thoughts of his public humiliation plagued him. There wasn’t a woman in the castle who didn’t know he’d been in bed with a repulsive demon. Those that hadn’t witnessed it had certainly heard about it. The pretty women ignored him, and the others looked down their noses at him. Morwen was right. His love life was doomed, curse or no curse.
Jasin walked past in tight leather leggings—the kind that made her arse look like a ripe peach—and a chest-hugging, chainmail shirt. Goron smiled desperately. The smile wilted when Jasin shook her head in disgust. She hadn’t talked to him since the incident, nodding her head curtly at any orders he gave her. “Aw, come on,” Goron growled in frustration. He’d had sex with a repulsive demon not slow roasted a kitten over a fire.
He stopped to warm his hands by a brazier and stared moodily out over the wall. It wasn’t a clear night. Dark clouds were blowing in from the east, but to the west, beyond the darkness of the forest, he could see the mountains, their snow-covered peaks bright white in the light of the moon and stars.
I’m a fool to stay. There’s only celibacy and death. Maybe there’s a woman out there somewhere who doesn’t know who I am. The moon peeked out from behind a black cloud illuminating the fields and hundreds of squat, potbellied creatures who crept through the grass to the castle.
Goron shifted from the glare of the brazier and leant out over the wall for a better look. His eyes hadn’t deceived him. “Toadoks,” he roared.
Curse that ranger, Caroc. What the hell was he playing at? He was meant to be keeping the toadoks’ numbers down or, at the very least, forewarn the castle they were about to be invaded.
The
