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“Very well. Tomorrow I’ll take you back to Lord Ceadda’s, and I’d best ask more questions.” Mitchell sighed. Obviously this was going to take longer and be a more difficult journey than he’d imagined. He just hoped the lord would accept and care for these two people. They’d never survive the winter out there alone.
Chapter Two
Claire had adjusted to living in the forest, but she longed to be back at the stronghold, or even living in Paul’s little house in the hamlet. Winter was coming, and winter in the forest was horrible. Even though Paul and Ivan had dug down deep into the soil to keep the heat from the fire inside their shelter and covered their walls and roof with mud, and later, snow and ice, it was still much colder than inside a stone building with a huge fire. In the stronghold, they could always wrap themselves in a fur and sleep in the great hall when it was very cold. Here, the shelter was just big enough for them all to be inside. Her brother always hugged her to him to share his body heat, but the small fire, all they could afford to use as gathering fuel was a time-consuming task, never seemed warm enough to Claire.
From outside, the shelter was very low to the ground, easy to disguise, as the men had dug it a long pace deep, and she appreciated the enormous amount of work that had been done, so the temperature inside would be more moderate, and the shelter itself much less obvious to anyone searching for them. But it was not, and never would be, home.
It was no use asking to go home. Paul was convinced that life with Lord Jeffrey on the rampage was much too dangerous. Even here, so far north in the valley, there were signs Lord Jeffrey had attacked people. Several hamlets were derelict, all the people gone. One had been burned to the ground.
Meeting Ivan had truly been a life-saving experience. He and Paul together had been able to kill some larger animals that provided them with plenty of meat and furs for warmth. When Paul was by himself, it was much too dangerous for him to tackle a larger animal because if he’d been hurt, Claire wouldn’t have been strong enough to carry him back to the campsite to care for him. But with the two of them, life had been easier, and the tiny shelter was built as well. Claire knew Paul wanted her to marry Ivan, and she was grateful to him, truly she was, but the man she loved was back at the stronghold. She loved Mitchell with all her heart, and gratitude to Ivan didn’t change her feelings for Mitchell at all.
“Before winter sets in, you really ought to visit some hamlets and find out what has been happening in the valley,” she said to Paul that evening as they sat around a tiny fire.
“I don’t want people knowing where we are. It took a lot of effort to build that shelter, and it’s important no one learns where it is,” he said dismissively.
“You can go to a more distant hamlet, travel in a roundabout route. Your tracking skills are excellent. No one need know where you’ve come from,” she said coaxingly.
“It’s been almost a year. She’s right. It’s time for one of us to see what’s been happening. Only one of us need go. One person can hide their tracks much more easily than a group,” said Ivan.
“Do you think so? What can have changed? Lord Jeffrey is young and strong. He’s not a frail old man like Lord Ceadda.”
“In a year, anything may have happened. Possibly nothing’s changed, but I agree with Claire. It’d be good to know.”
Claire remained quiet and let Paul think through the idea. He could be very stubborn if he was opposed, but hopefully he’d agree this time. She really wanted to go home, and if there was no fighting in the valley, surely they could travel safely back to the stronghold. Two men travelling with her should be enough protection. It wasn’t as if they’d have a wagonload of possessions or anything. All she had was one other dress, her winter cloak, and a fur, plus a few cooking utensils. All of which were easy enough to carry. The men had their weapons, but they’d keep them in their hands anyway. It was going to be a very long walk though. Coming there, they’d ridden on a wagon for the first few days. It was slow, but an easy way to travel. Going back, they’d have to walk every step of the journey, but they were young, they’d manage.
Claire had been a serving woman at the stronghold. One step above the kitchen servants, but below the sewing women. She’d enjoyed her work, learning about all different sorts of foods and how to prepare them, as well as the rules for serving guests. In particular she’d enjoyed time spent with Mitchell. He was such a big man, heavily muscled from hard work with brown hair and eyes. When he held her, she felt totally loved and protected. Of course Paul cared for her with all his strength, but somehow, when she was with Mitchell, she felt so safe and happy. He also made her heart pound and her cunt wet. Sometimes she wished she’d let him fuck her, but the thought of giving birth to a baby out in the forest killed that idea stone dead. Neither she nor the child would survive.
Mitchell had land and a house where he lived with Old Mary. Claire loved talking to Mary. She remembered so many stories from the past, and she was still sharp enough to talk about the present. Claire would have been perfectly happy looking after Mary as well as Mitchell. Would he have married someone else by now? Was Mary still alive? She was very, very old. Claire wished she was back home. Home. This forest wasn’t home even though Paul and Ivan had worked so hard on the shelter. Home was back at the stronghold.
“Very well, Ivan. Tomorrow go to one of the farther, easternmost hamlets, say you are coming to visit someone, and learn all you can. You’ll have to sleep rough one night though, but at least the weather is still mild.”
“I think that’s the wisest decision. Who knows what I might learn, and one night sleeping outdoors is nothing.”
Great. Maybe Lord Jeffrey has left the area and I can go home.
* * * *
In some ways, living in the forest was a lot harder work than living at home, yet in others that was strange because she had no official work to do. They’d built the shelter not too far from a river, but they didn’t want to be too close to it either, so it was a ten-minute walk for Claire to take her cooking pot to the river each morning. First she washed her face and hands, and then she half-filled the pot with the water she’d need for cooking that day, which she carried back to the campsite.
There was a similar problem with gathering wood for their fires. It was very important no area of the forest was denuded of underbrush and small sticks, so she had to be very careful never to pick up all a pile of fallen wood, but only some, and not to make it obvious where she’d collected her dead wood. Again, that meant a long walk from the shelter and careful appraisal of each deadfall site.
When she picked berries, she always took them from the inside of the bush, leaving the ones on the outside untouched. With edible grasses or fungi, she picked the ones at the edge of the clump, never from the middle. It was exhausting, but she understood how important it was for their safety.
At midday, she and Paul ate together. Paul said, “I want to try to trap some rabbits. Will you promise me to say inside the shelter while I’m gone? I hate the thought of leaving you, but we have no meat left.”
“Can I just stay here at the campsite? Do I have to be inside the shelter?”
“It would ease my mind if you were inside. Do you really mind so much?”
Claire sighed. She hated being so confined, but having him worrying about her when he needed to concentrate on getting their food wasn’t fair. “No, I’ll stay inside. It’s just a bit dark, and there’s nothing for me to do. But I don’t want you to worry.”
“Thank you, sweet.”
All afternoon, Claire lay on her side, wrapped in her cloak, remembering the treasured moments she’d shared with Mitchell. How tall and broad-shouldered he was. How he tilted his head down and smiled right into her eyes until she almost melted with love for him. How he’d touched her in her most private places and made her feel warm and loved, with hot flashes of pleasure pouring through her body. How they kissed and kissed until they were both breathless. She loved him so much, missed him so much, wanted to be with him again, forever.
One day he’d taught her how to suck his cock. At first she’d thought the idea a little strange, but when she saw how much he enjoyed it, she was happy to do it for him. Only a little while after that, she realized that it was the person doing the sucking who held all the power. The owner of the cock was at the mercy of the sucker, waiting for them to nibble or lick, to go faster or slower, harder or softer.
The head of his cock was very sensitive. A single flick of her tongue could have him shivering in delight or groaning with pleasure. She’d sucked his cock deep into her mouth right to the back of her throat, before letting him slide out a little way so she could press her tongue along the vein that pulsed with his life force. Then she’d taken him right out of her mouth and sucked his balls instead, one after the other. They tasted a little different, felt rougher on her tongue, but he enjoyed them being sucked as much as his cock.
