1. Arianrhod


    Date: 9/14/2015, Categories: Historical, Author: BethanyFrasier, Rating: , Source: LushStories

    Walden and Bayard crouched low in the grasses beyond the crumbling stone wall outside Carmarthen Abbey. The young squire's leather skull-cap kept slipping down over his eyes each time his jaw turned and stretched wide to gnaw off another bite from the mutton-shank he held in his greasy, dirt-stained hands. Bayard, Knight's Yeoman to Sir Setheryn of Tye Gwyneth, elbowed the heaving rib-cage of the young squire crouched beside him sharply, the politest gesture he could manage in his present state of mind, to get the boy to share their meager dinner. Without taking his eyes off the lamp-lit lunette window high above them in the rectory tower, he grabbed the half-denuded mutton-leg and hungrily took a chomp. "What's this for, mate? What're we doin', Bay?" the squire asked, with his mouth full of sheep grease. "His Lordship's orders, boy. Now shut your greasy yap before I shut it for ye," Bayard grumbled, as he tore off strings of gristle with his yellowed teeth, "Bahhh, ye've left me nuthin, ye bastard!" Walden straightened his cap again and nervously shuffled sideways on his knees, fearing another painful poke to his ribs from Bayard's sharp elbow, but his right knee unexpectedly slid out from under him when it squished down into a soft patty of fresh cow-shit a Holstein had deposited near the monastery's outer wall a few hours earlier. " Sard !" he bellowed, quickly lifting his soiled knee from the stinking pile, but Bayard clamped his palm over the boy's mouth before ...
    another expletive could emerge. "Shut yer blooming' hole, ya imbecile! You want the dogs to come out after us?" "Bay! Look!" The young squire pointed up to the tower, where a woman had just appeared at the window, silhouetted by the torchlight from the wall behind her. She was naked. "Celibates, my arse !" The Yeoman sneered. "Her hair. What color is her hair?" "Can't tell," Walden replied. "Why?" The woman turned from the window, and her large, pendulous breasts caught the light at the same time as her coal black hair. A naked monk appeared and spun her back around, leaning her roughly over the sill of the window. They watched as the monk splayed her buttocks in twain and thrust himself inside her. She let out a guttural gasp that woke the cows, and lurched towards the window opening again and again, as he pounded her from behind. "Sard!" Walden exclaimed, as they watched the ribald tableau from below. "What's the matter, boy? Never seen a bitch take it the hard way?" Bayard chuckled. "Anyway, it's not her," muttered the Yeoman. "Who?" "Arianrhod!" * * * Setheryn Bale, Lord Widdlesten of Gwyneth Borough, sat in his horse-hair padded curule chair, warming his feet by the stone fireplace his great-grandfather had laid. He was draining the last swigs from a tankard of ale, and tossing scraps of food to his lazy sheepdog lounging at his feet. On the wooden bench by the hearth sat his friend, the vicar, warming his hands by the fire, after his long, uphill walk from the village to ...
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