Interregnum Ch. 02

Reginald lowered his head downwards to slowly lather her left nipple with his saliva, prodding her nipple with his tongue slowly, teasingly over the bump, then he flicked it upwards and downwards over the nub before blowing air onto it, watching with glee as Narla groaned with pleasure.

"Look at you, hmm. Do you love it when I grope your tits? lick them? Should I suck on them too, like a baby?" Reginald paused for a moment, grinning when he thought up of a mean addition. "Did you do this for your son when he was little?"

Narla tried not to respond in any way.

"That makes me really jealous, Imagine If you could still make milk, hmm? Maybe I should fuck another son into you so that I could get the chance to try it!"

Narla tried to move forward again, but the men holding her were more alert than they were before.

"I love your cunt, nothing could ever keep me as warm at night... not to mention the way that you cuddled up, the last time we fucked. Do you remember that?"

How could she not. It was true, she did like Reginald, though that had been a long time ago. Yet, despite leaving in order to raise her own child, she did entertain thoughts about Reginald, remembered those old nights...

Which was why seeing Reginald now hurt her more than it should have. But, there was nothing that she could do about it, but to bare her cheeks and go along with her situation, make the best of her situation. She did find some enjoyment in it.

"Fuck!" Reginald groaned... he quickly came to completion after swearing aloud.

Narla could feel her cunt being lathered with cum as he spurted.

Reginald quickly withdrew his cock from Narla's orifice. He didn't look to her again, didn't look at what he had done as he spoke to his band of men. "Bring her inside the house... you can all do whatever you like to the whore... fuck her cunt, ass or mouth, so long as she lives."

Reginald then turned to face Narla. "You know... you look better than you ever did before, being fucked like a whore. I hope my men teach you a real lesson, you 'Dukae-Trelaka' bitch."

Narla recoiled at that word. The word in a particular Orc tongue which meant 'Bond-traitor', the worst kind of traitor, a traitor who defies blood-bonds or blood-sworn oaths without a second thought. To Narla, it was the worst thing to be called because it was true, she was once a bond-servant to Reginald, a violator of her written contract and of her spoken word, an oath-breaker.

Of course being raped was one thing to Narla, but she thought that it was done to her by someone that she had known and once trusted... but to be raped by complete strangers was an utterly horrible concept to her. Her only thought was of her son, the boy to whom she would do anything, would bear any punishment... for him.

And so being dragged into her own home, she was raped without any complaints from her, fearing that any words or actions might see her son brought to harm in her stead. One of the crueler men punched her in the nose.

Two of the men were sickened by this and raised their words of protest, but outside of this incident, the men were demons.

One of the rapists choked her as he fucked her, laughing as he did so. Narla relished the fact that he was exceedingly quick to 'finish'.

One of the rapists, one who seemed 'younger' than the rest was surprisingly gentle. He seemingly didn't know what to do at first, but some of the others spoke their wisdom on the subject and the young man quickly acted on this.

****

There was a furor in the air, one which you could not smell, feel or taste, but you could see it in men's eyes, in the eyes of the villagers of Trevby.

"One ell of fabric... woolen... seven yards, We could sell this for one shilling per yard."

"But milord... this could sell for one and a quarter shilling..." Aefrand spoke in a tone of voice that was slightly fearful, but also shocked and angry. Aefrand was a serf, wearing his woad-blue tunic with a belt made from braided yarn and quite decorative with the black and grey wool twisted round with two knots on either end, this braid was thus tied at the middle to form the belt.

The guard, the man who was acting as a 'purveyor' of sorts, Jerevon as Odo had heard it, replied to Aefrand in no soft terms. "Not at all, this 'ere wool is not so-well fulled, 'aint going to sell so high."

Aefrand spoke up with anger. "The fuck it isn't, the wool is from my land, It was sheared there, my wife carded it and loomed it and put it out to the tenterhooks. It was fulled in that fulling mill off 'bout three leagues walk from 'ere, I payed for it even, to get it fulled!"

Jerevon replied back unconvincingly. "The wool looks a little faded... and it doesn't look to be teasled so it might sell for less than a shilling per yard, even." Jerevon looked at Aefrands reaction, and taking the opportunity, acted on the man's anger. "Did you use enough piss when you were making it?" Jerevon jested.

Aefrand held back his anger. "I see your point... have it, take my wool you thief!"

Jerevon turned to speak to another outsider, this one wore a hat over a coif, the hat being shaped much like a box with an arched tip on top. "This one's given us seven shillings worth of wool..." When, the reality was, it was worth more.

The hat-wearing man spoke up with a hint of humour as he placed his quill into a jar of ink. "I have ears..." This man was using a makeshift frame that was tilted at an angle so as to facilitate writing with little risk of ink dribbling from the quill.

Odo quickly realised himself that the furor of anger surrounding this area was one thing of all the things that Odo had to endure. And as such, it was the eyes of his own village community that bore down on him the most.

They saw that he was being guarded and must have assumed the worst of him. After all, an orc under guard was surely a criminal, or worse, an accomplice to those who were 'stealing' from them.

Old lady Agnes held her distaff and tried to approach him, to harangue him or just to beat him, Odo did not know, but she was prodded back by the butt of a spear when she came too close.

One of the guards, Byrand, laughed. "Did you fuck that old lady's daughter or something? She's as angry as ten Sartodians!"

Odo looked down, replying to Byrand. "I heard that a husband of her's was killed by an orc."

Byrand sighed. "Well, whoever killed that husband of hers did him a service... yuck!"

Odo tried to restrain himself, but he couldn't. Odo smiled cruelly at the joke for a moment, Agnes actions and manner had certainly warranted such an action from him.

Byrand scratched at his neck for a moment. "I come from up a way's, you heard of Apsale-Trydwid?"

Odo looked at Byrand. "No."

Byrand laughed to himself for a moment. "Fields of wheat as far as the eye could see, vineyards with such a great purple hue... ahh, autumn was as colourful as spring where I lived. My da had four heads of cattle and eight pigs. We had seven acres of 'our' own, as soon as our lord's service was paid, we damn-near hurt our backs toiling our own land, but good 'ol Burnard always came around with his oxen to plough in exchange for some ale. This is... much less work, get to wear my jack and have a spear even."

"Jack?" Odo asked curiously.

Byrand pointed to his armour, the quilted tunic that Odo noticed was worn by many of the others. "This... It's my Jack."

Odo nodded his head in understanding. "So, six acres?" Odo asked, returning back on Byrand's story.

Byrand leaned himself up against a nearby house. "Aye, how much have you got?"

Odo sighed. "five acres all added up. We've three labourers who work for us, while I apprentice as a carpenter, mother is a baker. Used to have more pigs, but we ate two last winter and one in the last winter before this one, and another from the one before that winter."

Byrand knew this type of story well enough. "Never too bad being a serf... it's a wonder you're still 'free'... Hah. I guess my lord did you some good, that one did."

Odo retorted back with his hand pointing to the direction of Jerevon.

"Tell that to us folk of Trevby, this looks like extortion, in my eyes."

Byrand nodded his head in agreement. "Sure look's that way, those lords above won't see it, of course... not our place 'ta say that though."

Odo was surprised that Byrand was agreeing with him, it was a strange feeling, to feel something positive about someone who might be his enemy.

"Fuck off, Take your hands off me!"

Odo and Byrand both turned their heads to the source of the commotion.

"Aelith?" Odo blurted out aloud.

What shocked Odo was the sight of a guard. This guard, donned in a 'Jack', was groping her, trying to force her against a house where she might be taken advantage of.

Odo leapt to his feet and Byrand hastened to action. "Oi!" He shouted in response at Odo.

Odo managed to make it several metres before earning the attention of the groping guard. "Take your hands off her!"

Byrand forced the butt of his spear against Odo's left ankle, hobbling him to the ground. It was at that point a moment later that Odo felt the tip of a spear against the back of his neck from above.

A shout came from Odo's side, out of his vision but otherwise accompanied by the clops of several horses hooves clattering on the grass. "By god's feet, what is going on here?"

The guard quickly turned around, speaking up. "That Orc-man there tried to stop me from groping this cunt!"

Odo spoke up in anger. "Her name is Aelith, you knave!"

The guard looked as though he were about to turn around and rush for Odo, but was stopped when the horseman rode in front of his path. "Take your hands somewhere else, levy. There are whores elsewhere. If you dare raise your hand against my prisoner, I'll strike you down and string up your family one by one against the 'wailing' tree. Am I clear?"

The guard replied back with shock. "As clear as day milord."

The horseman dismounted, then he turned to face Byrand. "Point that spear off his neck. Now."

The horseman approached Odo. Then, he reached his hands out to Odo's shoulders, aiding the orc in standing up.

"So, this is the man... the son of Narla?"

Odo paled. "I am." he answered truthfully, fearing the consequences of lying.

"I am a baron, the sixth son of Guilebern. My name is Reginald Osprey, these lands I claim as my own, by right."

Reginald pointed to Odo's chest. "I also claim you, by right of parentage. I am your father and I claim you as my bastard son."

Odo looked to the man, looking at the man's face, to discern the truth. "What?" He uttered from shock, his mouth ajar.

"Follow me. There is a reeve in this place, I am told, who lives not too far from here. His domicile will be a better place to speak, in private."

****

Reginald smiled slightly upon opening the door to the reeve's house.

The tiniest part of him inside was revolted that his son was of a different race, but this was nothing compared to the emotion of realising that his seed, having found fine soil in Narla, had turned into a sprouting oak... such a tall man, his son was a head and a half over him in size.

His vision of his son was constantly changing, it seemed. At first, he only wanted to use him against Narla, a kind of bargaining chip of a sorts, but now he decided that, since the child was of his own blood, he could certainly take him away and train him into being a fine soldier of sorts... 'Just look at the size, that musculature, a boar waiting beneath the skin. I fuck well, it seems.'

Reginald quickly noticed another person though.

The reeve spoke up, unbidden, anger in his tone of voice at being neglected in his own home. "My house is not someplace to store soldiers, vagabonds, footpads, whatever you mean to call them, those unsightly curs you call your 'men'."

Reginald simply held out his hand as he spoke back to the insolent reeve. "If another word falls from your lips... I will cut you open."

The reeve didn't seem to realise his situation. "It is entirely unlawful to have me killed... you would be put to trial for doing so."

Reginald locked eyes with the reeve. "A trial... who will represent you? A dead king? Who will stop me from cutting you open in the meanwhile?" Reginald paused for a moment, then he ushered, or rather booted the Reeve out of his house. "Remove yourself, you fuck-faced knave, you can fuck a poxed cunt for all I care. Don't you dare speak above your station!"

Reginald continued onwards, sitting down near the hearth in the middle of the house. After a moment, Reginald raised his voice with a tone of anxiousness. "Now that we are here, we can talk... about us, about me, about you."

His son quickly spoke. "Why am I here?"

Reginald spoke up with haste. "Your mother was a servant of mine, a bond-servant, offered to my father from a noble person who bought her out of pity from a slaver. My father gave her a contract to me as a gift, she has repaid me by leaving my property, leaving my estate, breaking her contract. She was to be a bondservant for some ten years." Reginald pointed his finger towards his son. "I suppose you can be used to settle her 'debts'. She has worked for eight years in my service."

His son waited patiently for a moment before speaking. "In which way am I to pay for my mother's debt?" he asked.

Reginald smiled. "You will serve me in any way that I see fit. Selling you off as a galley-slave to an elf is not suited to one such as yourself, I will see that you are equipped and trained to fight, and then you will serve me. Your service will be a prerequisite to your mother being kept in my household, where she might be kept safe. Serve me faithfully for two years, as these were the years that your mother still owed in the contract... and she can go free, you as well. I'll even pay you a pound for every year of your life that you have been gone from me... nineteen pounds of silver paid at the end of your service, in addition to your wages."

Odo was in shock. Reginald knew that such a sum was nearly unthinkable to the common man.

"Where is my mother?" Odo asked, with concern on his face.

Reginald paled for a moment. "She is... safe." Reginald refused to speak further.

After a moment of thinking... Odo began to think of something new. A contraption born of fear, a lie.

"That woman... the one assaulted by one of your men... She is my wife."

To Odo, this was the only way that she could be safe, sooner or later, her lack of 'maidenhood' might be found out, after all she was promised to someone else. She would be disgraced... She, Odo's only friend, his loyal friend. He could not allow this.

He might not love her, but he understood her, an understanding born of long-standing friendship. He could not allow that to happen to her, could never allow that to happen to her.

"Is that so?" Reginald smiled faintly. "Then I shall have to accommodate for one more. She shall stay at my estate, where I shall put her up to some task or other."

To this, Odo smiled. "Where am I to be staying?"

Reginald laughed for a moment. "Do not fear, you shall also stay at my manorial estate... and so long as you are not too loud, you may enjoy your wife in all manner of ways so long as she does not distract you from your duty to me."

"Will my mother be coming along?" Odo asked.

Reginald stood up from his seat as he contemplated that question for some time. "In chains." Was his answer.

Odo understood the intent.