CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“To what do I owe this pleasure? enquired Princess Eleanor of Brittany “Corfe Castle is full of visitors these days, there’s no danger of boredom here, the whole Kingdom seems to have occupied this fortress.”

The pleasure is mine entirely my Lady” responded the hardy warrior facing the Pearl. Readers of our tale would have recognised the soldier immediately as Savary de Mouléon, the leader of King John’s Poitevan mercenaries.

“So what plans are you involved in, de Mauléon, or are they military secrets not fit for the ears of a chaste young maid?”

“Probably not, my Pearl” laughed the Poitevin “but you are the King’s own niece, you are worthy of the greatest of all confidences.”

“Well Savary I will say one thing you are more fun than the King’s whey-faced little brat, my cousin Henry.”

“Have you been in his company recently then?” enquired the man of action.

“Hell yes. In August the King deposited his Queen my Aunt Isabella and Henry at Corfe for safety reasons. Thank God the stay was short. Isabella is basically alright I suppose. A bit stuck-up, yet I remember a few years ago she was fairly good fun. It seems funny calling her Aunt seeing that we are approximately of an age - well who is counting anyway? She dotes on that boring son of hers.”

“You cannot blame her for that” suggested de Mauléon “and, to boot, he is the heir to the throne.”

“I may have made criticisms in the past about my Uncle John but this lad is so insipid. I never thought that I would ever say this but I hope that the King lasts a few more years yet, What on earth would happen to England if this monk’s apprentice ever got on the throne!”

“He is only eight years of age, madam” grimaced de Mauléon “give him time to grow and mature into a lusty young prince.”

“Lusty?” almost gulped the Princess “mark my words a dull, pompous little God know’s what will never be anything but a humourless faint-heart. I would even suggest that Stephen Langton has more about him than what this Prince will become.”

“My Lady is in a quirky mood, is it the wrong time of the month, perhaps too
much tension?” De Mauléon had barely finished the sentence before he felt a fierce hand striking him about the ears.

“You scoundrel!” snapped the Pearl “remember who I am.”

“My dear Lady” responded a crest-fallen de Mauléon. However, his open-mouthed incredulity turned to a gust of laughter as the Princess also began to guffaw in the most rumbustious fashion.

“You should have recognised the Argevin blood in me, sirrah!” resumed the Pearl “we are the very Devil’s brood, quick to anger, but also quick to love. After all I reserve my fiercest passions for those I hold most dear - not always, of course, but in your case my proud warrior....”

“You are very gracious my dear, what are your orders now?”

The Pearl seized de Mauléon by the arm and guided him quickly and with little ceremony to her boudoir. Moving away from him and with even less ceremony the King’s niece with amazing dexterity removed the clothes she had been wearing. There she stood before him, proud and haughty but above all totally mischievous and also totally naked. The mercenary not wishing to be caught at a disadvantage followed suit, smiling gently at the captivating young woman.

“I am entirely at my Lady’s command, what special attentions can I give you, just say the word” beamed Savary bowing slowly with almost the poise of a courtier.

“Yes my warrior come caress my back, you have, if I remember a gentle touch for a military man, one that can take away a thousand aches and pains. Come quickly and obey my every whim.”

De Mauléon was swiftly at the Princess’s couch smoothing her silky flesh with as tender hands as a hard, rugged soldier could muster. With sensuous athleticism the Pearl twisted round and pulled Savary towards her. The move was made with such dexterity that the soldier lost his balance and went crashing to the floor with Eleanor on top of him. Attempting to maintain a light-hearted dignity de Mauléon rose quickly or sought to as the Princess jokingly turned him face down and applied exotic and thrilling pressure on his shoulder blades. Feeling in Seventh Heaven de Mauléon closed his eyes and lifting his right leg from the ground sought to run the sole of his foot along Eleanor’s lower calf.

“God, Savary” yelped the Princess laughing uproariously “you just missed my right nostril by about half an inch with that great foot of yours.”

“A thousand pardons, divine Lady” apologised the mercenary. “I was overcome by your beauty, my sincere......”

“Never mind, my dear de Mauléon I am still here in one piece. Let us forget apologies and resume the very interesting action.”

The routier felt his body at once stiffen and then melt as if under the glare of a thousand suns. For some reason he felt the mixture of heat and cold all at once. His body shivered and yet he could feel the perspiration rolling down his face. Some divine interaction perhaps but it was as if he was on a heavenly journey through Paradise, as if he was powerless to resist a force that originated from the skies above. No indeed, for the dynamic power that was besieging his very being seemed to come from all directions. Eleanor’s fantastic body seemed to dominate the whole room, her slim, supple but perfectly formed shape swept backwards and forwards almost floating. This must have been part of de Mauléons fevered imagination but that is what the woman did to you. She was as much at least part angel/part goddess as princess. Savary’s whole body shook and wracked with pleasant agitation as he felt Eleanor’s long fiercely demanding legs lock round him. His head started to throb but in a most wonderful manner which surprisingly caused him to laugh as the tears splashed down his cheeks. He felt mesmerised by her swelling bosom which seemed to rise and fall in union with the whole of nature. The warrior roared and gasped in appreciation as his athletic body writhed and twisted in conjunction with Eleanor’s. A thousand, nay a million stars all came together and clashed into a kaleidoscope of colour as de Mauléon reached an ecstasy he had not believed possible.

“Lie with me just a while longer, Princess.” De Mauléon could only just recognise his own voice as if he was speaking in a trance. He found it difficult to focus his mind properly, who would want to under these circumstances, there was rare pleasure in being relaxed and uncoordinated, just lying there, supine, but what joyous non-action. What a change from his day-to-day work in the field, wielding a sword or axe, exacting retribution on his enemies, some difference this!

“Les reins, la cuisse, les jambes sont magnifique” murmured the routier
“Donnez-moi les lèvres. Je suis au septiòme ciel.”

“Tu es toqué“ laughed Eleanor “tu es un nocour, un mauvais example par une princess.”

“Tu es plus charmante que jamais. Il y a un siecle qu’on ne tu a vu.....”

“Parle anglais quand tu es en Angleterre” interrupted the Pearl arching her eyebrows slightly “It will give the servants a good laugh and something of an education to boot.”

“You are incorrigible my dear girl” laughed Savary.

“Never mind de Mauléon what plans are you currently involved with?”

“Ah yes, back to work” groaned the mercenary “King John held a council at St. Albans recently and elected to divide his army. The Earl of Salisbury, Fawkes de Bréauté, and myself were to keep the rebels forced in, in London while our Royal master was to seek to recover control of the enemy-held counties.”

“And what, I pray Savary my love are you doing here in Corfe Castle so far away from London?”

“I diverted slightly to pay you a call my Lady. One so close in blood to the King deserves honour and attention. Duty is everything to me....”

“I know, I know” grinned the Princess “you are a healthy rogue, one who has, shall we say, ....”

“My Lady!” expostulated a shocked de Mauléon “I always do my duty. Would you deprive me of a little fun, a little entertainment prior to the pursuit of that duty.”

“Don’t be so priggish you saucy rogue” roared Eleanor in great gusts of laughter “I enjoy your company, I love to tease you as well as titillate and captivate you.”

“You certainly achieve that dear Eleanor” smiled Savary “I am glad that you are so understanding to a tried and tested warrior.”

“Of course, my bold mercenary captain but should you not be encompassing that fine form of yours in cold steel. My Uncle surely needs his support to be in place as quickly as possible. You are the strong man of the three entrusted to your latest venture. The Earl of Salisbury is a good drinking companion of the King but limited
in some respects. As for Fawkes de Bréauté he has his abilities - yes a noble warrior. Nonetheless if I were in a tight spot I would look to your brave spirit, your rugged experience and flair. You would be my knight, the one to whom I would turn.”

“My lady does me more honour than I deserve. Nonetheless I will respond to that hint and get ready; a naked soldier is of service to no-one I must arm and prepare to give my all for your - or rather our - sovereign Lord.”

Eleanor smiled to herself considering that she was a Princess under guard, one who was allegedly kept under close scrutiny her life had been quite free. Yes she had not, so far, worn a crown but probably more importantly she was valued by someone who ruled as King. Her virtues and abilities had been recognised. No milk-sop fair-complexioned, fainting young girl was she but a real woman who knew how to use her strengths and talents to the full. Long may that remain so.

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