"And will you share her?" Hugh Fauconier looked with hard eyes upon Guy d' Bretagne. "We've shared wenches before, my brother."

"No, I shall not share her with you yet, Hugh. As you have Vivi to yourself, I want this girl for myself for the present. I haven't even begun to explore her depths, and until I do, and tire of her, I will not share her with anyone, even you, brother."

"Where is she?" Hugh asked him. "Why did you not bring her to table, Guy?"

Guy d' Bretagne speared a piece of venison with his knife and took a bite. He chewed it vigorously, swallowed it down, and then took a healthy swig of wine from his goblet. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he replied, "I have not brought her into the hall for several reasons. Since I have seen the condition of her boy's garments, I have ordered them burned. They were, I expect, vermin-ridden. I would not bring her into the hall naked, although that is the condition in which I intend to keep her in my chambers. For the time being I will keep her from everyone, even my servants. She will become dependent upon me for everything, even her food, which she will take from my fingers when it pleases me to feed her. I will become the whole reason for her existence, and her survival."

"Ohhh, brother," Vivienne said softly, "how deliciously diabolical! Do you think she is strong enough for such treatment?"

He nodded. "I will not break her spirit, Vivi, for that is not the purpose of the game."

Vivienne d' Bretagne was an extraordinarily beautiful woman. The violet-colored, almond-shaped eyes, set in her heart-shaped face with its little pointed chin, were avid with excitement. "Guy, do you think she is the one we have been awaiting?"

"I believe so, petite soeur. She is physically strong, and she has intellect. Her breeding is good, and this is better than spiriting off some swooning noblewoman whose family would be certain to come after her."

"Let us do it now!" Vivienne d' Bretagne said eagerly.

"No," he told her. "You have been enjoying your lover all these many months, Vivi. Now give me until next summer to enjoy mine. Besides, she must be willing to do my bidding no matter what it is I ask of her. I want no rape here. Do you understand me?"

She pouted at him, but Guy laughed.

"You know that my magic is stronger than yours, Vivi. Such a thing may not have been so in past generations of our family, but it is now, and you are well aware of it. I yield to you from custom only, but if you try my patience, I have the means to punish you." He patted her little hand with his long, delicate fingers. "Be a good girl, now, Vivi. If you promise me that you will trust my judgment in this matter, I will show you and Hugh my new toy."

"When?" Vivienne demanded.

"When you have finished your meal," he promised, a smile lighting his features at her enthusiasm.

Before the food was cleared away, Guy took a small silver plate and placed upon it some venison, a slice of bread, which he buttered, a pear, and a small bunch of grapes. He then sat back and listened while the castle minstrel sang a charming ancient lay about their ancestress, Vivienne, the wife of the great Merlin.

Finally, when the hall was almost emptied, Lind and Alain, the two falconers, begged leave to approach the high board.

"You may speak," their mistress told them.

"We merely wish to inquire," Alain began, his eyes on Guy, "about little Belle, my lord." Lind was silent.

"She is clean, and safe in my apartments," Guy assured him. He gestured toward the plate of food. "I am just about to bring her a small meal. You need not fear for Belle. She pleases me."

"Will she not be returning to her duties, my lord?" Alain said.

"Belle has been given other duties here in the castle, Master Falconer," Guy replied. "You will see her again eventually, but not for the time being. She will be too caught up in those new duties to spend any time in the falcon mews. See to her bird, will you? I know she puts great value upon the pretty creature."

"My lords, my lady." The two falconers bowed and departed the hall. There was nothing more that they could do for now to help their lady, but they knew she was a resourceful woman. They would be waiting when she needed them, as would the Langston men as well.

Guy watched them go, a look of amusement upon his handsome face. "Are they not charming?" he said to his companions. "The concern was etched all over their faces. Now are you convinced, sister? It is no plot against us. Just the poor, doing the best that they can."

Vivienne jumped up. "Let us go and see your wench, brother!" she said excitedly.

"You may not come into the bedchamber," he told her. "I will take you and Hugh to the peephole so you may view her in all her glory."

"You have her on the black bench? All this time?" Vivienne was astounded. "Did she scream when you set her there?"

"No, she did not. She was surprised, I have not a doubt, but she made no cry of alarm," he told them.

The trio hurried to Guy's tower, entered his apartments, and continued to an interior hallway lit by torches. When Guy had unlatched several peepholes, he ushered the others forward to look.

"Ohhh, Guy, you are most wicked," Vivienne exclaimed. "You left her with the phallus to entertain her. Is it the one with the little pearl studs?" She did not fear being overheard, for the stone wall blocked the sound of her voice.

"Nay," he said. "She is not ready for such refinements yet."

"She is lovely. When her hair grows, it will be magnificent. What think you of her, Hugh?" his mistress asked.

"She's pretty enough, Vivi," he told her, "but no woman could hold a candle to you. Guy, go in to her, and rotate the phallus so we may see her pleasure peak." The naked girl in his view was exciting, and he wanted to rid himself of Guy so he might amuse himself with Vivienne. She would like that.

"Ohh, yes, brother!" Vivienne said excitedly. "Do it!"

He left them, and at once Hugh was behind Vivienne. He pulled her tunic dress off. His fingers quickly unlaced her smock and his hands gathered up her large, round breasts, crushing them cruelly, which he knew she enjoyed, his lips and tongue on her shoulders and neck. "If this corridor weren't so damned narrow," he growled in her ear, "I'd fuck you till you screamed your pleasure, Vivi!"

"Look!" she said, enjoying her lover's attentions, but equally fascinated by what she could see through the peephole.

Guy d' Bretagne entered his bedchamber, and before the startled eyes of his captive, removed all of his garments so that he was as naked as she was. Coming over to the black leather bench, he bent and kissed her mouth in greeting. "Has the phallus kept you good company while I was away, Belle?" he asked her, reaching down to grasp its gold ring. "Ahh," he said softly, "I see you have bedewed it with your love juices. I will teach you to be more restrained in the future."

"Take it out!" she whispered low.

"Not yet," he said. "I have yet to show you the pleasure it can really bring you, ma cherie." He began to rotate the phallus with a delicate motion, smiling at her soft cry.

"Please, no!" she sobbed. She believed as she had lain there all this time that she had finally managed to gain control over her body, but now she could see it was not so. The enjoyment he was inflicting upon her was a sweet torment such as she had never known. She writhed in an effort to escape him, even while knowing that she could not. The phallus drove deeper and deeper within her, until she was mindless with the pleasure-pain he was giving her. She wailed her frustration at being unable to defeat him, but her cries quickly turned to those of a woman approaching the ultimate heaven. Then his mouth closed over hers again, and she could remember little else but for the wave after wave of pure pleasure sweeping over her until finally it was no more.

She felt him withdraw the phallus as she lay gasping, her body drenched in its own sweat. She hadn't believed that she could survive his vigorous attentions, but she had. She found she couldn't open her eyes; they were still too heavy with her satisfaction. Her body felt weak and totally limp. She felt him unlock the manacles that had bound her wrists and ankles. She lay exhausted, unable to even move. Then, to her shock, he began to bathe her sex with sweet warm water, working swiftly and efficiently. When he had finished, he lifted her up and laid her on his bed, drawing the coverlet over her. She heard the door to the chamber close, and slid away into sleep.

Guy found his sister and Hugh in the outer chamber. Neither was taken aback by his nudity. He smiled at them. "Did you enjoy my little spectacle? She is quite a marvelous young creature, isn't she?"

Vivienne nodded in agreement. "You could not see, for you were unable to resist kissing her, but at the moment she reached her peak, her body arched so high I thought it would fly off the bench, Guy! You brought her along quite beautifully, mon frere; neither too quickly, nor too slowly; but then, you have always been a master of very good, nay, exceptional timing," his sister praised him.

"And you, Hugh, did you enjoy watching the wench?"

"Aye!" Hugh said. "She has beautiful little breasts, and you know how I appreciate a woman's breasts, brother. I can see that she will prove a fine winter's amusement and companion." He paused, and thought a moment. "I think I once knew a girl with hair that color, but I cannot remember now."

"You do not have to remember, cherie," Vivienne said in a soft, purring voice. "All you need to remember, my Hugh, is how much you love me. You do love me, don't you?" Her look was for a brief moment vulnerable, much to her brother's surprise.

"I have never loved anyone before you, Vivi," Hugh said, "and I shall never love another even if I should live forever." He gave her a quick kiss. "Let us go to our bed now, cherie, and leave your brother to his new plaything. Certainly she will have regained her strength by now for the new bout of Eros he will treat her to," and Hugh Fauconier laughed wickedly as, putting his arm about his mistress's waist, he led Vivienne from her brother's apartments.

Guy watched them go, and thought it was unfortunate that Vivienne had fallen in love with her captive. Usually Vivi took a man for lust, but this one had lasted far longer than any of the others. It was obvious that she was in love with him. Still, Hugh was easy to live with. Guy shook his head. Love was a weakness people like he and his sister could ill afford, but Vivienne would not want to hear it. He smiled to himself. As long as Hugh Fauconier kept her amused, she would be happy, and Vivienne's happiness was really paramount. Picking up the plate he had brought from the Great Hall, he brought it into the bedchamber.

Chapter 14.

Belle lay sleeping, and for a moment Guy was tempted to leave her so, for he knew she must be exhausted after her long day. Then he decided against coddling her. The food would revive her, and he did not want to deny himself the pleasure of possessing her this night. There was a candle stand by the bed, and he set the plate upon it, all the while feasting his eyes upon her. She really was lovely, with her short, tousled red-gold hair and her white, white skin. Her fine breeding was more than evident. He sat beside her, running a finger down her bare arm, bending to kiss her soft shoulder. She stirred.

"I have brought you something to eat," he said. "Open your eyes now, Belle. You must eat."

She sighed, and reluctantly sat up. He propped pillows behind her back, drawing the coverlet down so he might see her charming little breasts as she ate. "I'm surprised that you remembered to bring me food," she said daringly. "Your other appetites seem greater." She reached for the plate, but he pulled it out of her reach.

"Unless I give you permission otherwise, Belle, the only food you will take will be from my own hand," he told her quietly, setting the plate back down and cutting a piece of venison off the small joint. He held it to her lips, smiling.

For a moment she debated telling him to go to the devil from whence he had obviously come, but then she decided against it. Who knew what this sorcerer might do to her? She had to have nourishment, and if this was the only way she could get it, then so be it. She opened her mouth and took the meat with her teeth, chewing it slowly. His eyes never left hers. At first she was uncomfortable in his gaze, but then she simply let it sweep over her, refusing to be the first to look away; defying him in the only way she knew how. She realized now that the gentle, musical voice and the tender touch were a sham. This could easily be a cruel and dangerous man. Yet if she pleased him, she would be allowed to remain within the castle. She would have the opportunity of reaching Hugh, and helping him break free of the sorceress's enchantment.

Guy fed the girl in his bed, wondering as he did just what she might be thinking. The meat and bread were finally all devoured. "Lick my fingers clean now, Belle," he ordered her, holding out his hands.

She took first one hand and then the other in her own two hands, bringing them to her mouth, slowly, and, to his pleasure, most thoroughly licking the venison juices and the butter from each finger, which she sucked individually. Her pink tongue lapped back and forth over his palms until they were completely free of any residue of her supper.

He smiled slowly. "That was well done," he complimented her. Then he quartered the ripe pear and fed it to her. The sweet juices dripped down onto her breasts. He bent his head to lick them off, his tongue sweeping across her flesh in search of an errant drop of pear juice. When the pear had been eaten, she again took his hands in hers, and bathed them with her tongue without his even asking. She was intelligent, and that pleased him. This girl, he believed, he might take further than any of the others before her. He suspected that she would not be arrogant, as so many of the little peasants had become once they believed that Guy d' Bretagne could not live without them. And when they became difficult, and too proud, he coldly gave them to his men-at-arms for a few nights of amusement. A proud wench's disdainful ways were invariably swiftly cured beneath the unwashed bodies of a dozen or more men, whose only objective was to release their baseborn seed as quickly as possible.

He saw Belle's eye go to the plate, which still contained the small bunch of grapes. "You may have two," he told her. "The rest are for me." He plucked the grapes and popped them into her mouth.

She ate them, saying, "I would have thought that in the length of time you were gone, you would have eaten your fill."

"I prefer my grapes a special way," he told her. "Do not be so greedy. I do not want you fat and bloated like some farmwife." He pressed her back into the pillows. "You took well to the phallus, Belle. You did not hold back your passion. Your former lover taught you well. How many lovers have you had, my pretty wench?"

"I had a husband, my lord. No lovers," she answered him.

"What happened to this husband?" he wondered.

"My brother killed him," she said, then amended, "not Lind. Richard, my lordly brother. I am not a woman of easy virtue, my lord."

"Women of easy virtue lack passion," he said. "You certainly do not. You yield to it most gracefully, and that pleases me." He leaned toward her. "Come, and kiss me of your own free will, Belle. I want to feel your luscious mouth moving with conviction beneath my own."

Isabelle looked into those deep violet eyes. She could feel her will being sapped once again, caught in that dark gaze. She could not, it seemed, fight him. Unbidden, her hand reached up to touch his cheek. His skin was so very fair, framed by his dark, dark hair. "I have never kissed a man I did not love," she told him softly.

"Ahhh, but you are going to love me, Belle," he answered her.

The words frightened her, for there was such a ring of certainty to them. Would she love him? How could she love him when she loved her dearest Hugh? But Hugh had forgotten her, did not know her. Guy's eyes bore into her green-gold ones, and she could feel the warmth of his desire in the look. She had to believe that her love for her husband could free him! But if she displeased Guy d' Bretagne, she would be cast out of La Citadelle, and there would be no hope left at all. She had to kiss him, and kiss him with honest ardor. This man was far too skilled in matters of the heart to believe a lie.

Her lips touched his tentatively. He scarcely breathed, for he feared to break the spell. It was all he could do not to sweep her into his hard embrace. Instead he let her lips find their own rhythm, and to his shock, his heart soared as it never had before. He was intrigued with the sensation, and relinquished himself to it.

His lips were petal soft, she realized, and yet they were also firm. Their mouths seemed to part as if in response to a silent signal. Her facile little tongue slid into his mouth, encircling his, teasing him until he could finally stand no more. With a growl, he forced her back against the pillows, his lips suddenly fierce and very, very demanding. He kissed her until she was near to fainting, for she could not breathe. Seeing it, he eased back, pulling himself onto the bed, where he might more easily have access to her.

She felt his lips, hot and wet, insistent and fierce, as they slowly, slowly, made their way down the column of her ivory throat. He lingered at the pulse that beat under his mouth, enjoying the sensation of the blood that throbbed beneath his lips, knowing it must be singing in her ears, even as it now sang in his. The lips slipped even more slowly across her chest, burning insistently against the swollen flesh of her nipples. She could not restrain the soft moan that slipped from between her lips.

He pressed close against her now, one hand taking a breast completely in his hand to fondle it, while his dark head moved to capture the nipple of her other breast within the warm wetness of his mouth. He tongued the nipple, encircling it again and again until it felt raw and aching. Then she felt his sharp teeth gently scoring the tender flesh, sending needles of fire throughout her body. Suddenly, he drew hard upon her, and she cried out softly, feeling a corresponding tug of desire in that hidden place between her thighs. Her body arched slightly.

He loosed the first breast, and his hand moved to insinuate itself between her legs, pushing past her moist, pouting netherlips to find, with unerring aim, her tiny pleasure pearl. "Ahhh, Belle," he chided her tenderly. "Such impatience." He stroked her until she thought she must surely die of the sweetness he had loosed to pour through her veins. Abruptly, he stopped, and pushing a hard pillow beneath her buttocks, said, "Open your legs for me, Belle. Wider. Wider. Aye, that will do, my precious." For a moment his eyes gazed upon her vulnerability, and she blushed, the heat spreading from her chest up her face. "Nay," he said gently, touching a hot cheek. "You are very beautiful there, Belle." Then, to her shock, he began plucking the grapes and, with firm fingers, pushing them into her sheath one by one.

Isabelle's eyes widened. "You must ... not ... you cannot ..." She faltered as his eyes met hers and he silently commanded her to be quiet. What kind of man was this? she wondered, frightened. He was so tender, so gentle, and yet his actions were to her astounding. Confusion swept over her. He was not harming her, and yet ...

Guy d' Bretagne pushed the last grape into Isabelle's sheath. "Now," he said softly, "you will remain very still, my precious one. I will shortly retrieve the fruit from the succulent bowl where I have but temporarily stored it. Keep your legs open, Belle," he commanded her sharply when her thighs trembled and threatened to close. He added a second pillow to the one already beneath her, elevating her body even higher. Then leaning forward, he delicately parted her plump netherlips and began to tongue her pleasure pearl.

"Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu!" she cried out, and her body writhed.

"Stay still!" he commanded her sharply, raising his dark head up so she could see his fierce look. "You must learn to control your instincts so you may enjoy your pleasures even more than you now do." Then he bent his head so he might taste of her once more.

I will not be able to bear it much longer, Isabelle thought, terrified. If she displeased him, what would he do? He would cast her from the castle. She had to bear it. She had to! He suckled hard on her, and her body spasmed, but she forced herself to remain still.

"Good!" he praised her. "I knew you could do it, my precious." Then she felt him push his head between her legs and begin to draw the grapes, one by one, from her sheath. She could feel him sucking deeply, and could feel the tiny fruit as they popped from her; feel the spurt of their juice as it mixed with her own. When the last grape had been brought forth, his tongue swept about her sex, seeking a last measure of the sweetness, and then he pulled himself level with her, yanking the bolsters from beneath her so she lay flat once more.

"That is how I like to eat grapes," he said, smiling into her eyes. "A difficult task to perform in the Great Hall, would you not say, Belle? You quite enjoyed it, my pet. Your honeyed juices were most copious, and quite overran the fruit's." He bent to kiss her deeply, plunging his tongue into her mouth, caressing hers. "That is what it tastes like," he said, breaking the embrace.

"I could have never imagined-" she began, but he cut her short.

"Of course you could not." He laughed. "Such things are quite forbidden by those who think of themselves as good, but here at La Citadelle, we are not good. We are a race of sorcerers, the damned, and so we may do that which others would not even consider."

"You are such a contradiction, my lord," Belle told him honestly. "One moment you are tender, the next fierce, and strange."

"I am all those things, and more," he said with a laugh, "but I am also just a man. I have been very patient tonight, but now, my precious, I must slake my most basic thirst for you." Swinging over her, he thrust deep.

Isabelle cried out in surprise, for she had not yet been expecting his entry. A big man, his rod was both longer and thicker than her husband's. Once well-lodged within her, he ceased his movement to smile down into her face. As if in answer to a silent command, she put her arms about his neck, drawing him down to her. She could feel the dark hair upon his chest tickle her sensitive skin. Her legs wrapped about him, and she felt him slip even deeper into her soft body. He throbbed within her, and she was at once reminded of the leather phallus. Isabelle shuddered, and he whispered but one word into her ear in answer to her unspoken question. "Yes!"

To her surprise, he had given her incredible pleasure over and over again this evening. Now he set to work to gain his own pleasure. His movements began slowly, augustly, his manhood delving deep into her, withdrawing with a deliberately languid motion. But the movements became faster, quicker, harder, until she was writhing beneath him, crying out again with her joy. Her head was whirling for the hundredth time in the last few hours. Then came the explosion of stars behind her tightly shut eyes, and she heard him cry out in delighted satisfaction as he reached his own apex. For a brief moment he slumped atop her, and then he lifted his head and looked deep into her eyes.

"There has never been a woman who pleased me as much as you do, Belle. I do not think I shall ever let you go." Then rolling off her, he fell into a restful sleep.

She had pleased him. Isabelle felt relief pour through her body. He would not send her away, and she would soon be able to free Hugh from Vivienne d' Bretagne's spell-and herself from Guy's enchantment. She must learn just what it was that was keeping her husband ensorcelled. And when you learn that, a voice in her head asked, how will you know what to do? For a moment she was overwhelmed with self-doubts, but then she caught herself. Whatever happened, she would find the way. She had not come so far to fail. She would rescue Hugh, save herself, and they would return home to Langston, to their child. They would!

To his astonishment, Guy d' Bretagne slept the entire night through, something he had never done in his memory. When he awoke, he took Belle back into the bathing chamber, and they bathed each other. When they returned to the bedchamber, he dressed himself and was about to take his leave of her when she said, "Where are my clothes, my lord?"

"I gave orders that they be burned, my precious. Besides, you will not need clothing for the interim, Belle," he said calmly.

"Why will I not need clothing?" she asked him.

"Because you will not be leaving these rooms for a while," he replied. "I want you all to myself. I want you when I want you. Now let me go and break my fast. I shall return with food for you afterward." Then he was gone, out the door, and she could not, of course, follow.

How was she to reach Hugh if she could not leave these rooms? Her heart sank. Then she calmed herself, remembering that Guy had said it was but for a short while. He did not intend to keep her penned up here forever. She was his new toy, and he merely wanted to keep the new toy to himself for the time being. He was a man, but like most men, he was a child. Isabelle returned to the tumbled bed, straightening it up, climbing in, and going to sleep once again. Guy d' Bretagne was both a tireless and an inventive lover. She would need all her strength to keep up with him.

Vivienne d' Bretagne was alone in the Great Hall of her castle when her brother joined her. "I had thought you would sleep till midday," she said mockingly. "Did you not spend the night playing?"

He joined her at the high board, pouring himself a cup of wine as he sat. "I had a most satisfactory night, petite soeur, and afterward I slept as I have never slept. The girl is fearless so far, and very passionate as well." He nodded to the servitor who spooned eggs poached in cream and dill onto his plate.

"Then you mean to keep her?" Vivienne asked.

Guy nodded. "She is the one we have been waiting for, Vivi. There is no doubt in my mind about it. Both she and Hugh are perfect for our purpose. We shall begin early next summer, but until then I mean to enjoy her to the fullest." He spooned the eggs into his mouth hungrily, washing them down with the rich red wine.

His sister tore a piece of bread from the long loaf upon the table, and, buttering it, handed it to him. "Tell me what you did with her, Guy. Did she fight you at all?"

He laughed at her eager desire to know all. "I began gently, Vivi. I do not want to frighten her." Then he went on to tell his sister in careful detail of his evening.