Authors: Bertrice Small
Tags: #Fiction, #Literary, #Romance, #Historical, #General
She giggled again. “Some say I am naughty. Others call me generous, sir.” She pressed herself against him, looking up into his face. “Which would ye like me to be?” she asked him, her eyes wide, her mouth pouting suggestively.
“
Both!
” he told her. He could feel his cock already straining to be released. “Now ye tell me what ye would like me to be?”
Glenda reached down to stroke the thick hard ridge in his breeks. “Tireless, sir,” she whispered to him. “Or do I presume too much, sir?”
Ewan Hay grinned wolfishly at the maidservant. “I’m going to fuck ye,” he growled at her fiercely, pushing her onto the bed, pushing up her skirts, and falling atop her. He found her entry immediately and was as good as his word.
But Glenda’s mother had been the Netherdale village whore, a position now held by Glenda’s older sister. Glenda, however, wanted a more respectable life. She had an aunt who was a servant at Netherdale Hall, and her aunt had gained her niece a position. Having grown up in her mother’s cottage, Glenda knew well how to tease a man into his best performance. She praised the man now using her, encouraged him to heights he had never before known or even imagined, stroked his vanity by shrieking with apparent delight at his prowess. And when he lay exhausted, she arose, straightened her garb, and left him.
Ewan Hay’s itch had been but lightly scratched. His eyes now constantly swept the hall looking for Glenda. Catching her in a corridor the next day, he put her against the wall and used her vigorously. When he had finished he told her, “Ye will come to my chamber tonight and stay with me. I have a yearning to see ye naked.”
“I’ll try, sir,” she promised him, and then waited until very late to finally go to him. Without his even asking, she stripped off her garments, laying them aside, and stood silently, turning slowly, so he might view her to his pleasure.
Ewan Hay almost moaned aloud at the lushness of the girl’s body. His manhood grew stiff beneath the bed coverlet. He beckoned her into the bed, flinging back the covering so she could see he was quite naked, and ready for her. Ewan Hay felt out of control with this female. He had never been so lustful in his life. He took her once, and it simply wasn’t enough. She brought him some wine from the bedchamber sideboard. He did not know she had laced it with certain herbs that would help him regain his strength sooner and keep him that way longer. He had his way with her a second time.
Afterwards Glenda looked up at him with her blue eyes. She smiled saying, “Oh, sir, I have never before known such a lover as ye are!”
“I am frankly surprised the old lord, or one of his sons, hasn’t taken ye for a mistress,” Ewan said with candid observation.
“Oh nay, sir! I am not that kind of a girl,” she protested. “But last night when ye . . . when we . . . Ye are the first man I have not been able to resist, sir.”
“Ye weren’t a virgin,” he said.
Glenda laughed. “I should hope not! I am seventeen after all, but I am not a wanton with the lads, sir. Every lass has a tumble beneath a hedge or in the hay now and again, but only some become familiar to all. Most of us do not. But ye, sir. Yer gentry, and ye still wanted me, and have treated me with kindness.
“I have a half sister who married into Brae Aisir village, and she has not been as fortunate in her husband as I have been this day with ye. Her husband is a rough man-at-arms, and sometimes beats her. She came recently through the pass for a visit, and said he has been in a much better mood since his master returned, and they recaptured the keep. Have ye heard the tale, sir?”
“Nay,” Ewan Hay said. “I have been in England fighting with the Earl of Lennox. Wasn’t this keep defended?”
“Aye, sir, it was, and the drawbridge was up. But those attempting to steal the keep from its rightful owners did not know about the secret tunnel that leads beneath the moat, and up into the kitchen pantry. That’s how Brae Aisir’s rightful lord regained his property. He came through using that tunnel in the hillside beneath the keep. And the victory put my brother-in-law in an excellent mood, so he allowed my half sister to come home for a visit,” Glenda said. Then reaching up, she pulled his head down to hers and began kissing him with expert and tempting lips.
Ewan Hay almost jumped from his bed in delight. Now he knew how he could enter Brae Aisir’s keep and retake it for the Earl of Lennox. But first he needed to slake the lust building up in his body again. With his new knowledge, he might linger another day enjoying Glenda’s extraordinary charms. And when he had settled himself back at Brae Aisir, he would send for her. The thought of having the servant girl and Maggie Kerr both in his bed at the same time was more than exciting.
Glenda let him have his pleasure of her body one more time, and then the wine she gave him this second time held a sleeping potion. She waited until he was snoring loudly, and then dressing quickly, the serving woman left the bedchamber to hurry to find Rafe Kerr. Though it was past midnight, Rafe had lingered in the hall. His wife was with child for a fifth time, and she could not go to sleep if he was in their bed. So he waited. When Glenda hurried up to him, he said softly, “What news?”
“The secret’s out,” she replied with a mischievous grin. “He may linger a day to prepare, but before he fell asleep, he told me he would be leaving Netherdale Hall shortly.”
“Can ye continue to give him what he wants so he does not grow suspicious?” Rafe asked her. “Ye’ve done so much, I dislike asking.”
Glenda shook her head. “Nay, my lord, I will do what I must for Netherdale.”
Rafe released two pigeons at first light. He could not take the chance that the message to Brae Aisir not be received.
Maggie had put a watch on the dovecote. In midmorning a manservant brought her a message capsule. Opening it and unrolling the bit of parchment she read:
The bait has been taken. He leaves tomorrow. Be ready. Rafe
“Are we ready?” she asked her husband after reading him the message.
Fin nodded in the affirmative. “The rock is all in place, ready to seal the opening. Come, and I will show you how we have blocked the pantry door.”
They descended to the kitchens, through a pantry, and then down another small flight of stone steps into the cold pantry. The door that had once led into the tunnel was no longer visible at all. Fin pointed out to her where it had once been.
“We removed the staircase from the tunnel to this level,” he explained. “Then we sealed the door with wide strips of iron the blacksmith forged for that purpose. Then we closed the door off with stone on both sides. They cannot reach the door now, and if they somehow managed to get up to where it was, the door is secured by two stone walls and a wall of iron. Finding their exit gone, Hay and his men will return to the entry to find it blocked, thus preventing their escape.”
“What if they send someone through to reconnoiter?” Maggie asked.
“Then we will drive them into the tunnel before sealing it. I think, however, that not realizing we know he is coming, and knowing we used the tunnel in recent months, Ewan Hay will march straight into our trap, Maggie mine. His reputation is one for violence, not tactical skills,” Fin responded.
“So in a few days this should all be over,” Maggie replied.
“For us hopefully, but not for the Borders,” Fin said.
“How will we know when the Hay comes?” she asked.
“The watchtower guards will notify us. A lantern signal will be sent from tower to tower to tower. The last tower will send a man with the warning.”
Towards dusk two days later, a man-at-arms came from the last tower to warn them that Ewan Hay and his men were even now coming to the end of the Aisir nam Breug. Strategically placed men observed as the Hay’s men stopped just short of the pass’s end to dismount to lead their horses to a small wooded copse where they tethered them. Then the invaders came stealthily and on foot, circling around the village, for their purpose was to enter the keep, and take it, not battle the village.
While the residents of Brae Aisir had been advised of the impending attempt to retake the keep, they kept to their cottages as if it were an ordinary evening. If they saw a shadowy figure flit by behind their dwellings, they pretended not to notice at all. The Hay and his men crept up the hillside and after an hour or more of searching, found the entry behind a thicket of bushes. Darkness was about to fall as they discovered the door pulled easily open, and stepped into the mouth of the tunnel to light their torches where they would not be seen by accidental eyes.
“I think ye should send two men through to make certain the tunnel is clear,” Bhaltair advised the Hay.
“Nay, ’tis not necessary. They used the tunnel but recently,” Ewan Hay replied. He was eager to regain the advantage he had lost to Fingal Stewart; eager to see the look of astonishment and then fear on Maggie Kerr’s face when she saw him returned. He would have his revenge on them both. Tonight after all was secure, he intended having Fingal Stewart brought to the hall bound securely to watch while Ewan Hay raped his wife on the high board, and then allowed Bhaltair the same privilege. This time there would be no escape for the Kerrs of Brae Aisir or Fingal Stewart. And the Earl of Lennox would reward Ewan Hay generously for the capture of this keep, and the Aisir nam Breug. “Forward, men!” he instructed, actually leading the way for the first time. His torch cut the darkness as he hurried into the depths of the tunnel, and Bhaltair and the others came at a trot behind him.
When the sounds of their voices had faded, shadowy figures crept from the surrounding brush. The door to the tunnel was quietly closed, and then locked. Then the large boulders that had been disguised with greenery were slowly pushed into place until the old oak door was no longer even visible. There was not the tiniest crack or crevice available where the light might shine through. Ewan Hay and his men were firmly and solidly trapped in the tunnel. They would not ever escape.
Reaching the end of the tunnel, the invaders found nothing. There were no stairs leading up to a door. They could not even discover where a door had been. They wondered whether they had taken a wrong turn and missed another arm of the tunnel, but retracing their steps, they discovered the tunnel was but a single extension. Panic ensued. The men broke ranks, racing back to the tunnel’s entrance, only to discover the door closed upon them, and worse, it seemed to be locked tightly.
They attempted over the next few days to remove the door’s lock and hinges, but when they finally succeeded, they found themselves facing a wall of black stone. They would die within the darkness as their torches were slowly extinguished. Some of the men began to pray. Bhaltair sat down stoically to await his eventual death. Ewan Hay cursed and howled with both his fear and his fury at having once again been defeated by the Kerrs. When he finally lapsed into hysterical babbling and weeping, Bhaltair beat him into silence. He might have cut his throat, but Bhaltair decided that would have been too merciful a death for Ewan Hay. He would suffer with the rest of them.
The Earl of Lennox was on the move, coming into the southwest of Scotland to pillage its towns and villages, and burn its harvests so that the clan folk would starve in the coming winter. A small party of soldiers came to Netherdale Hall, seeking to use the Aisir nam Breug.
Rafe Kerr refused them. “The traverse is only for peaceful travel, my lord,” he told the nobleman who captained the soldiers.
“We were told the pass would be available to us by the Earl of Lennox,” the nobleman said. “He sent one of his assured Scots to take the keep on the other side of the border several weeks back.”
Rafe shook his head in apparent puzzlement. “We did not see such a man, or even hear of such a happening. Our Scots kinsmen hold the other end of the pass, and I know they are still in control of their keep, for I spoke with them just a few days back. It is our custom to inspect the Aisir nam Breug together monthly, my lord. Mad Maggie Kerr, my cousin, and her husband, Fingal Stewart, were with me. If their keep had been taken over, they would surely be either dead or fled from Brae Aisir.”
“Ye deal with these Scots?” the nobleman asked, surprised. “Do ye not realize there is a war between England and Scotland?”
“My lord, these are the Borders. The Kerrs of Netherdale and the Kerrs of Brae Aisir have held this pass for peaceful travel for several hundred years. Not even King Edward the First, called the Hammer of the Scots, could change the loyalty that exists between our two families. We are not people to be involved in politics. We keep a safe route between our two countries open in order that families, peddlers, and merchant trains can pass through unscathed.”
Edmund Kerr had listened as his son dealt with the English war party. Why was Rafe lying about Ewan Hay and his men? He was wise enough, however, to wait until the English had departed back to the Earl of Lennox for further instructions.
Rafe, however, seeing his father’s face, did not wait to be asked. “The Hay and his men are dead. The Kerrs protect their own.”
“We had a chance,” Edmund Kerr said angrily, “a chance to control the pass alone, and ye spoiled it?”
“Did ye really believe Hay would give it all to ye, Da? If he had been allowed to succeed, he would have taken it all for himself. He would have used the pass for war. The Kerrs have kept the Aisir nam Breug free of war for more than five hundred years. That has been its value to both families. If ye let one small war party through it, every raider in the border will want to use it, and if ye say them nay, they will take it from us.” Rafe was growing angry. He slammed his hand down upon the high board where he and his father were seated. “Nay, I tell ye, old man, nay! I will not allow ye to besmirch the honor of the Kerrs in yer foolishness and yer greed. ’Tis time for ye to spend yer days in Aldis’s bower. From now on, the decisions for this family will be made by me, and not ye. And before ye start making idle threats, know that my brothers are in agreement with this.”
Edmund Kerr grew almost purple with his fury. He opened his mouth to shout at his son, but no sounds came forth. His eyes bulged from their sockets as he stood, only to collapse back into his chair unconscious.