Solstice Castle - Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Of course, if I had tried to gain entry into the Princess' suite while she was at the Palace at the capital, the King's Guard would have sliced me in half like one of the melons that Jenar serves to the monks. But, with the royal family on its annual visit to enjoy the cool air and the Solstice Festival here in Speysard, anything was possible.

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The day began routinely. I rose early in my small cell in the back of the monastery, dressed in loose tunic and pants, and dashed to the kitchen to help fat old Jenar prepare the monks' breakfast. I quickly sliced the fruit and pulled the loaves from the old brick oven.

Jenar excused me from clean-up duties, knowing that Beseer had requested my help at the docks when the royal barge emerged from the river mouth and sidled up to the pier. Beseer's usual mead-sodden old helpers could handle the normal river traffic, but he appreciated both my youthful athleticism, when twenty or thirty mooring lines were being simultanously flung from the barge, and my cleverness with things mechanical, in the event a winch froze or a pulley broke. Being an orphan, I was not pledged to any one guild, and thus had developed skills from the dozens of tradesmen and craftsmen whom I had helped during my seventeen years.

The crowd at the docks cheered as the huge dark barge with its gaily colored flags and flapping sails came into view around the point. As long as thirty grown men laid end-to-end, the barge was the technological marvel of all of Vorlan. Its huge deck held the green and white canopy in which the royal party itself was relaxing at the end of its two day journey.

My eyes swept the deck, for the King was known to bring dozens of young maidens down for the festival, ostensibly as servants or companions for his daughters. Nonetheless, rumors abounded of the more salacious roles the slender nymphs played in the exclusive parties held at the Solstice Castle during the Festival's warm evenings.

"Jaze, you three-balled young whelp, get your skinny ass up to the main pier and catch those lines," came a gravelly voice behind me. I turned and grinned good-naturedly at Beseer's sun-wrinkled face.

Along with two identical young boys-Beseer's twin grandsons-I stripped off my blouse and scampered to the edge of the longest pier just as the barge lumbered up, its twelve-foot high sides slamming into the dock's slats. Eight of the portly dock workers lined up several yards back of us. Heavy hemp ropes flew from the boat to be caught by the dockhands. When lines overlapped, which inevitably occurred, the twins and I shinnied up the lines and freed them, tossing them to the appropriate dockhand to secure.

With all lines down, I pulled myself hand-over-hand from rope to rope up to midship, where in a fit of energy I swung myself in two windmill-like revolutions and released the rope, landing feet first on the dock with a graceful pirouette. Whistles broke out from both dockside and barge at my maneuver. Beseer cuffed me and pushed me toward the winch, where Beseer's brother-in-law Creen was starting to jockey the loading ramp into place.

Since I had no immediate duties unless a mechanical problem developed, I could watch the royal party leave the elegant vessel not ten paces away.

Creen smoothly dropped the ramp in place, and the party started down the ramp to the waiting carriages, where the horses, hearing the crowd's din, pawed nervously.

After the guards in their bright silk outfits and long sabers emerged, the tall, dark-browed King Abret and his consort, Queen Serjeena, stepped out of the canopy and, along with their retinue of elite Palace guards, paced down the plank to the cheers of the crowd. I had seen them in their deeply-hued robes from a distance at prior Festivals, but now was dumbstruck at the sight of the Queen. In the heat, she had allowed her veil to slip and I saw her piercing dark eyes, chiseled cheekbones, and ivory smooth skin. I had heard that she was only sixteen when her father, the Prince of Fanjoer, had matched her with Abret in the year of my birth as part of a political alliance, but she did not now look to be thirty-three-she could have passed for a student at the Abbey academy. She turned and spoke briefly with a lumpish-looking young man, obviously the Crown Prince, Phenshraw.

Behind the royal couple and their son emerged a gaggle of young women, only a few in veils, and each wearing light, saffron robes. All were astonishingly beautiful, and my throat became dry. At the head of the pack was a tall, golden-haired vision, and I was entranced at the way her full breasts swayed under her gown. I knew her to be Lorena, the lady-in-waiting to Princess Paleem, the King's only daughter. Again, I had only seen Lorena from a distance, and never had imagined that she was such a beauty. Her walk reminded me of a mountain lynx, proud but alert.

The group of maidens was delayed as the King's party entered its carriages, and Lorena's eyes casually swept the dock. Her blue-eyed gaze alighted on me and stopped, scanning up and down my frame. She smiled slightly, and one eyebrow rose almost imperceptibly, then the tip of her pink tongue peeked out from between her perfect red lips. My face froze in surprise, my eyes growing. I felt the blood rush from my head and swell my manhood. Lorena noticed the effect she had on me and her smile widened almost to a leer. The tip of her tongue slid to the corner of her closed lips.

Before I could react, the carriages for the assembly of girls moved in front of them, and Lorena's eyes moved away. For the first time I noticed a small figure in the midst of the throng, heavily veiled in a brilliant blue robe. My heart leapt; this must be Princess Paleem herself, who reputedly had been seen unveiled by no man save her family and the priests who tutored her. I could see only her hazel eyes, fastened on Lorena, and a wisp of deep red hair peeking from beneath her hood. Paleem's head turned to follow that which had fascinated Lorena, and her gaze found me. She stared at me curiously, unabashedly. Again I found myself paralyzed. Paleem failed to notice the group move, and suddenly stumbled forward as the servant behind her jostled her.

In a trice, the girls were in their carriages, and I was left with a suddenly flushed face and a sore shoulder, where Creen had punched me to draw my attention. "Aye, lad, if you stand there drawing dung flies in your open maw I'll take the top of your crown off when I bring the ramp around." I skittered out of the way, and helped Creen bring the ramp down off the barge.

With my duties finished, I retrieved my blouse and went into town to the market square to help Madame Blaven set up the wooden framed booth for displaying her handmade pots. The square was bustling with pilgrims and tourists who had come to Speysard for the festival. The craftspeople and food vendors had worked strenuously for weeks to build up their stocks, and booths were overflowing with garments, pots and utensils, jewelry, tapestries, and spices and dried fruits and meats.

I walked through the market, cadging a morsel of vra fruit from a seller whose framework I re-tied, and a burnt loaf of dark rega bread from old Bekdray the baker, whose oven I often had patched.

"He looks rather tall for a monkey, don't you think you think, Rebca?" The soft voice behind me was unknown to me, and I turned only because I thought the comment an odd one. I found myself facing none other than Lorena herself, accompanied by a smaller, slender young dark-haired beauty in simpler robes. A castle guard stood in the background, just out of earshot, fingering a ripe melon and trying to cajole its owner into passing it over as a courtesy to the King. I could find no words. "And, he doesn't talk; maybe he only chatters like a monkey, too."

My face flushed in embarassment and ire. "I am no monkey," I croaked. Her contemptuous grin annoyed me, her beauty notwithstanding. A riposte came to mind. I could not resist. "Are you perhaps missing a family member?"

Lorena's companion-obviously Rebca-put her hand to her mouth in a stifled giggle. It was Lorena's turn to flush. She recovered nicely, though. "Well, he does look like one of the gypsies who appear in the traveling shows one sees at the Palace, spinning around a rope or leaping from one swinging bar to another. Are you perhaps a gypsy from the Rhona lands, imp Jaze?" I started.

"Oh yes," she continued, "your little flying stunt caught the attention of Bishop Paddon, who boasted to us that you were a multi-gifted product of his Order's monastery here in Speysard. He said that Jaze could best any man in Speysard in the grappling ring, could fix any device the Guilds make, and yet recite his devotions as well as any priest." My eyes fell to my feet. Lorena stepped as close to me as propriety would permit and drew my eyes to her azure stare by the strength of its intensity. She smiled, "Perhaps we shall have need of one of your gifts, Jaze. Would you come if young Rebca brought you my message?"

"You mock me by your teasing, Milady. You have no call for one such as me and I have no pass for entry into the castle."

Lorena's guard headed towards us, his ruffy face scowling. A commoner as I had no business conversing with women of such standing. "Perhaps, perhaps not," Lorena muttered drily, as she slipped away with Rebca, the guard following in her wake.

I returned to the monastery with my head swimming. Never had I conversed with a woman such as Lorena. While she was no more than one or two years my senior, her regal bearing and overpowering beauty marked her in my eyes as woman to match any. I stumbled my way through the evening meal, almost spilling Brother Adelbert's soup in his lap.

I retired to my cell early, to read by candlelight a tract left at the monastery by the Bishop. Before I could commence, I heard scratching at my door. I opened it to find one of Beseer's grandsons standing erect, his fist clutched to his chest. "Jaze," he cried breathlessly, "a girl gave me a whole silver tren"-which he opened his fist to display-"to bring you to her." He grabbed my arm and pulled me toward him. I slipped out of his grip but followed him down the hall and out the small door carved in the stone building's back side.

"Well, I wouldn't want to keep you from earning a tren." I was curious but wary; perhaps a suitor of a young woman I had wooed was setting me up for vengeance. I had been careful and had suffered no such attack before, but had heard of it occurring.

Perhaps forty paces down the path we came upon a small hooded figure, and I sighed in relief. I patted the boy and shooed him away; "You have done well, but put the tren in a pocket before you lose it."

The figure lowered the hood and in the fading twilight I could just make out the features of Rebca. She handed me a scrap of linen, dubiously as though not expecting me to be able to read it. I snatched it, and read:

Master Jaze,

Your services indeed are required at Solstice Palace.

Please follow Rebca.

Silently.

L.

I snorted, "Tell me, Rebca. What joke is your mistress playing upon me? Will I find a legion of the King's finest guards awaiting me somewhere?"

Her dark eyes looked at me beseechingly, and then she shrugged. I realized that she would not or could not speak to me, and that she probably would be punished if she failed in her mission. I could not think of any reason that Lorena would go to the effort to craft a hoax which would lead to my arrest, so I mimicked Rebca's shrug-at which she silently tittered-and followed her along the hillside toward the side of Solstice Castle.

The enormous castle had been carved over scores of years into the side of the soft grenha stone cliffs. All had heard rumors of many secret passageways behind the castle, and in my earlier years I had explored a few myself, only to be shooed away by the few guards stationed all year round at the King's summer palace.

We were met at a side opening by a scruffy, ill-clad young boy of perhaps eight. I recognized him as the only son of fat old Mayva, one of the village's better cooks who the king's own cook hired each summer to assist in finding and preparing the local produce. Without speaking, the boy turned and led us into a side corridor. Moving at almost a trot, he weaved us through a series of passages until we emerged next to what I recognized to be the castle's giant kitchen. I assumed I had been called to tinker with a vent on one of the large brick ovens, but we tarried only as long as necessary to be assured that no one was near, and then he motioned us to follow him up a narrow stairwell.

I was mystified. Why hide if I was there on a legitimate repair request? Then it occurred to me that there would be no reason that the Princess' lady would be beckoning repair men. By this time, however, I could not be assured of tracing my way back outside, and certainly had no excuse to offer when I ran into a guard, as I certainly would do. I tried to whisper a query to Rebca, but she quickly spun her head and, with a severe admonishing glance, silenced me with a slender finger to my lips.

We climbed several flights, and then waited again for the boy to check for guards. He led us down two passages to another stairwell. Without a word, he fled back the way he brought us, leaving Rebca and me to fend for ourselves. We quietly crept up the dark stairwell, and I suddenly was conscious of her fresh young smell and the sibilant rhythm of her gauzy robe brushing over the steps, propelled by her slim thighs.

At the top of the stairwell we waited as servants passed. As casually as I could, I pressed up behind her and lightly placed a hand on her hip, knowing that she could not betray us by reproaching me. Rebca stiffened and placed her hand on my own. Rather than pulling mine away, however, she gave it a quick squeeze and clutched it. She pulled me across the hallway into a large antechamber.

Beyond it was a heavy oak door, which Rebca pushed open, then she pulled me through. We traversed a short hallway, which ended at another door guarded by a heavy, ornate brocade tapestry. Rebca tapped lightly on the jamb. The door was unbolted from the inside and opened by none other than Lorena herself. Lorena quickly yanked at our arms, drawing us into a large chamber, brightly lit by scented yole oil lamps.

I held my arm over my eyes to let them adjust to the light. As they did, I marveled at the astonishing colors of the silk-covered walls and equally bright satin pillows littering the floor. A mammoth bed overwhelmed the far end of the room. Next to it stood a huge basin built in the very floor. I had seen bathing tins before, but it took me a moment to recognize that this basin was nothing other than such a tin, but at least as far across as a man is tall, made of Rhonan marble. On each side of the sunken tub were two large lamps resting on frames, and behind it was a portal of some sort, covered by a gauzy screen.

I turned to Lorena and realized that she was not dressed in the traveling robes in which I had seen her before. She was in a stark white robe made of a thin, clinging fabric. I did not realize how thin it was until she moved with a smile targeted at me, purposefully stopping in front of a floor lamp and casually turning in place. Her voluptuous form was silhouetted by the light. It was almost as though she were as bare as a newborn! I could make out every one of her magnificent curves. As she stopped briefly to face to my right, I could even make out the shape and size of the nipple distended from an abundant breast.

"Milady?" I stammered. "Was there some repair or?" God, I felt like a perfect ass. There was no repair in this wench's mind this night.

Her mocking laugh burned my cheeks for the second time this day. "Repair? Why yes, I believe there is some task for you tonight. Perhaps you can hammer in a dowel, for me unless you forgot to bring your hammer with you." She strode up to me, staring into my eyes with a nearly contemptuous grin. "You did bring a hammer, didn't you, my gypsy boy?" A stray blonde lock fell over her face, and she girlishly caught it between her teeth. I remained speechless, my wits traveling somewhere below my blouse.

Lorena turned to the raven-tressed Rebca and asked innocently. "My dear friend, our visitor doesn't know if he brought his tool. We must help him search." When Rebca hesitated in confusion, Lorena grabbed the shorter girl by her shoulders and swung her toward me. Lorena stepped behind Rebca and pulled the hooded robe off her shoulders, throwing it in the corner. Rebca, now clad in a shorter version of Lorena's gossamer robe, whirled to the blonde, but Lorena firmly planted her hands on Rebca's shoulders and turned her back to me.

Lorena planted herself directly up against Rebca's back, and reached around to grasp the young girl's small hands. "Now, Rebca. Let's see if his tools are under his fine blouse."

She guided the slender fingers to my waist and up under the shirt. The soft palms were guided to my slim waist, then gently up my stomach to my broad, lightly furred chest. Rebca stared at my chest, as though watching a contest of a pair of two-handed creatures fighting beneath the soft cloth. She allowed Lorena's larger hands to move hers over the hair on my chest, her mouth slightly agape.

Lorena sighed in mock impatience. "Oh, this is so inefficient." She suddenly jerked the joined hands to my shoulders. Unthinkingly, I raised my arms, and the two pulled the material over my head and off me, casting it in the corner with Rebca's traveling robe.

Now it was Lorena's turn to be mesmerized. I take great pride at the breadth and muscularity of my chest and shoulders from the lifting I do and the grappling training that I receive from Mard Hegran, a former King's guard himself. Again absently biting a golden curl, she reached over Rebca and stroked my chest. She clutched my upper arm and turned me slightly, as though to get a better angle of the lamps' rays.

Lorena released me, and placed her hands on Rebca's shoulders. "I do not see any tool there. Could it be hidden elsewhere on his person? Yes, that's it. Rebca, you must complete the search." Quickly, she pushed the girl to her knees before me, her ebony tresses falling forward to brush my calves. "See if there is an adz or awl strapped near his ankles, my sweet Rebca," Lorena continued. With that instruction, Rebca darted her hands under my cuffs and up slowly to my knees. Leaving her slightly damp palms pressed to the sides of my legs, the young girl looked over her shoulder with a look that I could only describe as devilish and shook her head.

As though absorbed by this troublesome puzzle, Lorena worked at the clasp holding the front of her robe together. Suddenly, the twin halves parted, opening the robe perhaps a handsbreadth all the way below her heavy breasts to her navel. My re-awakened organ again began to engorge. Pretending not to notice the exposing of the inside swell of her alabaster breasts, the blonde leaned over Rebca's head, baring each tit almost to the nipple.

"Yes, Rebca, I believe you're getting close," she uttered in a husky tone. She then straightened and stared at me. Her hands rose to straddle her long, smooth neck, and then slid together down past the hollow of her throat. The fingers arched in their descent, and then lightly rested at the peak of her hilly mounds, the edges held in the tips of her fingers. She slowly pulled the material apart, baring more of her flesh in agonizingly small paces.

In the meantime, Rebca's hands had traveled to the backs of my thighs, creeping up to cup the join of my ass and upper leg. My aching prick expanded to nearly full dimensions down my upper leg, just inches from the porcelain-featured beauty of the servant girl.

With an impatient jerk, Lorena swept open the top of her gown, exposing in full her high, lusciously round breasts. Never had I seen mounds that even approached her heavenly hills in perfection. Capping each was a pale pink circle, topped by broad, red-hued nipples, now almost angry in their arousal. Seeing my mouth drop in astonishment, Lorena grinned in triumph and stroked the fiery tips with the ends of her smooth fingers.

Rebca's hands suddenly descended my thighs and withdrew altogether. She again looked up at her mistress, then meaningfully jerked her head toward my crotch. Lorena clasped her mouth in glee. "Why I believe we've found just the tool. But can you be sure it is the right size? I believe 'caliber' is the artillerymen's term." The blonde lady-in-waiting dropped to her knees behind Rebca. "Oh do check, won't you?"

The dark-tressed lovely brought her unsteady hands up to the hasp of my belt. As she did, I dumbfoundedly noted that Lorena's hands were snaking around the girl, and gently kneading the youngster's small breasts through the satin covering. Determinedly, Rebca unloosed my belt and pulled at the buttons down the front, randomly brushing the side of her hand against my fully tumescent sword. Suddenly, the loose trousers fell, baring my ass in the back. They surely would have dropped to my ankles but for being engaged on my pride and joy, which now was jutting straight out.

Rebca's hands dropped away, and she stared at the cloth covered pole as though uncertain what her next task would be. She barely noticed as Lorena drew the straps of her gown over her shoulders and down her sides, pulling her willowy arms through. The small, pear shaped breasts impetuously poked out, the pale nipples as hard as Lorena's. Lorena whispered in Rebca's ear, and then she glanced over to the gauze-blocked vestibule. Rebca nodded, and grasped my pants at the sides, near the front, and slowly worked them down-past the tip of my cock-and down to the floor. The rod bobbed in front of them, and I could have sworn I heard a sharp drawing of breath elsewhere in the room. The two maids' faces momentarily were frozen; Lorena's in the open-mouthed smile of a child who has just discovered cocoa-based candy, and Rebca's in an indescipherable, mesmerized stare.

I have had but a few lovers, but those in a position to know-such as my renowned flute instructor Mademoiselle Jeara and Countess Fedragon (more of whom I will relate later)-tell me that the length and breadth of my sword is rarely matched by even the largest of grown men. It must be true, for I fairly can say that the two young women on their knees before me were suffering from the sort of astonishment one normally would associate with a great surprise.

Lorena pushed her face forward, gently biting the back of Rebca's shoulder, but her eyes never left my loins. Rebca, as though jolted, brought a hand to my groin; resting it next to the base of my member. She raised her ass slightly as Lorena pushed her robe over her hips, and then her knees and, finally her feet, as Lorena fully disrobed her. Lorena's right hand slid over the swell of Rebca's hip and then dove forward and down, obviously exploring in the dark down of the younger girl's loins.

Lorena must have reached the servant's sex, for Rebca's jet eyes snapped shut. Her fingers tried to curl around the base of my manhood. Failing in that, Rebca brought her left hand up to the other side, and slowly started pulling on the loose skin of my cock, her hips lightly swaying to the pleasant torture of Lorena's fingers.

Rebca's eyes again opened and focussed on the pole before her. Her fingers tightened around me, and her strokes increased in length. I could feel her quick, warm breaths on the tip of my phallus and the small drop of my fluid that she had harvested.

Lorena's free hand went to the back of Rebca's neck, and slowly pushed it forward. The girl's barely parted red lips collided softly with my red-capped tip, resting there without moving. I felt the young maid's tongue tip lightly probe at the small slit at the end, dipping at the milky substance. Opening her mouth further, the young girl lapped lightly, pulling her tongue back into her mouth to savor my essence, and then emerging again.

Rebca required no further prodding. Hungrily, her mouth captured more of the cap, dragging her sweet lips back to the tip in a steady motion. Soon, she was capturing the full cap and drawing part of my broad shaft into her warm, wet maw.

Lorena continued her prodding of Rebca's young pussy, but now had moved her left down the front of her own robe, and was stroking herself out of my line of vision.

I reached down and, as tenderly as I could manage in my aroused state, cupped the raven lovely's cheeks in my hand. She lovingly peered up into my eyes, and then without warning threw her hed forward, impaling her mouth on almost two-thirds of my sturdy lance with an audible sound. She lightly shook her head from side-to-side, commanding me to hold her face tighter in my hands. Honoring her request, I moved my hands almost back to her ears, and then firmly pulled her lips down my cock. She groaned in pleasure and nodded. I repeated the motion more urgently, pulling her lips almost to the base of my heated shaft, and felt the tip enter her throat.

I expected her protest, but encountered even more passion, as her hips bucked out of control under Lorena's touch. I repeated my joining of her mouth and my sword, and, in my passion, I fear I was not gentle. Still, she flung her mouth forward, and cupped both hands behind my thighs. My hips jerked to meet her slavering maw, as each stroke brought the angry tip of my cock from just outside her flecked, parted lips to the depths of her throat. We continued our dance, with Rebca taking me in deeply, her tongue flashing, again and again, deeper than seemed possible. Her firm breasts swayed forward and back as her hips rose off the backs of her feet and then descended, her flowing pussy clutching at Lorena's fingers.

"Rebca, you sorceress," I cried in my passion, "I cannot hold back!"

In a breathy pant, Lorena insisted, "Not there. You must We must be able to I want to be able to see you spend."

My first blast shot into the slender servant's mouth just as the tip was emerging, and a stream trickled out to the side of her mouth and down her chin. Her hands left my thighs to wrap around the stalk, her open-mouthed face just clear of the tip. The next stream struck her upper lip and cheek, dripping down onto her tongue. The next two shots hit her extended tongue, striking it as though with a whip. She continued to stroke me, and two more strings coated each cheek, with drops reaching her ebony hair. As my emissions began to subside, her lips again captured the tip and her eyes shut tightly, followed by a quiet shriek. I realized she too was achieving her ultimate pleasure, as was the jerking Lorena behind her.

Our passions slowly waned. Rebca continued to milk me with her lips, her cum-spattered cheeks hollowed with suction. As she pulled off, Lorena clutched the girl's head and turned it toward the curtained door. The blonde then extended her tongue to clean the seed from the maid's marble-smooth skin, loudly savoring each spattered drop.

Suddenly, Lorena leapt to her feet, causing her robe to finally fall from her thighs and drop to the floor. She pulled Rebca up with her, and, to my astonishment, drew her past the tub and lamps and throught the gauze screen and into the dark chamber behind it. I heard giggles just beyond the screen.

I knew not what was occurring. Having been sexually attacked by two of the princess' companions was startling enough. Why had they suddenly abandoned me? Was I to feel insulted?

Just as I had engaged the resolve to follow them through the curtain, Lorena emerged from it. Still, I heard giggling beyond it, leaving the mystery no closer to being solved.

Continued in Chapter 2

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