Luc grinned and glanced in the direction of the manor well beyond seeing and said, “And share the chase?”
Liaze laughed and shook her head. “I know where deer come to graze on low-hanging apples. If there is a stag among the doe-”
“Then we jump him,” said Luc, “and yield a bit of ground, for it would be most unfair to take him unawares at his breakfast.”
“Splendid,” said Liaze. “Follow me.” And she heeled her grey in the flanks, and in spite of her half-hearted promise to Remy, toward a distant woodland orchard they rode.
There was a stag at one of the trees, and away it flew, and laughing in the chase they pursued, Liaze’s nimble mare swift through the forest, Luc’s black stallion faster in the open.
They did not bring down a stag that day, yet they were well pleased when they called a halt to the chase.
Chatting and laughing, slowly they rode back toward the manor, the day growing quite warm with the mounting sun, the fog having been burned off long past.
As they came in sight of the mansion, “I know just what we need do,” said Liaze, and she led Luc toward the willows.
They rode in among the drooping yellow branches, brushing them aside with their hands. “I seem to recall such,” said Luc as he frowned at the dangles, “though the memory is hazy.”
They came at last to a small open glade there in the center of the grove. And across the sward, among great, flat white stones, lay the broad pool. Here they dismounted and turned loose their horses-stallion and mare-among the sweet grasses of the small, tree-sheltered meadow.
They walked to one of the stones at the edge of the pool, the spring-fed water lucid and welling, and a rill flowed out from one end to dance and sing over a stony bed on its journey to a faraway sea. And Luc looked about and smiled in recognition and said, “Somewhere in this place in the moonlight is where I first saw my Water Nymph.”
Liaze laughed and said, “Let me show you where,” and she sat down and pulled off her boots and stockings, then unlaced her leather jacket and flung it aside, along with her silken shirt.
Luc’s breath was taken away with the sight of her, yet he stood looking at her high breasts and slim waist, his gaze frank and admiring.
And she got to her feet and stripped out of her leather breeks and the waist-to-ankle silk garment beneath.
And Luc unfastened his long-knife and sword belt and scabbard, and he sat down to pull off his own boots.
Now completely unclothed, Liaze stepped to the edge of the pool, her form belling out from her trim waist over slender hips and then down into long, sleek legs. She stood there a moment, her back to him, and then, with a joyous cry, she dived into the crystal-clear water. She stroked down and across the pellucid mere, with its white bottom of flat stones and sand, the chill water bright with sunlight. To the other end she stroked and up the vertical face of the large rock at the verge. She surfaced and shook water from her eyes, then placed her hands on the low, flat top of the monolith and, with a kick, levered herself up onto the brink of the slab, and twisted about to sit. Laughing, she called out, “Luc!” but he was nowhere to be seen. She stood and peered about the glade. Where-?
In that moment, blowing, Luc surfaced in the water at her feet. And he looked up at her and again his breath was taken away. And then with a lift and a turn, he was on the stone as well.
Liaze reached down and took his hand, and he rose to his feet, and she led him to the mossy bank along the edge of the dancing rill. “And here is where I first found you,” she said, and she pulled him down beside her.
And embracing one another, face to face they lay, and she held him close and kissed him deeply. His manhood was hard and pressing against her, and she could feel the beat of his pulse.
“Luc,” she said, her voice husky, her eyes lidded with desire.
“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.