The Minstrel's Tale Part 1

The tired old horse plodded up the street towards the castle. In the saddle sat a man dressed in garish green, hunched over with fatigue to almost match the horse. Street vendors and passers-by turned to look as he passed, their eyes drawn to his bright clothing and the polished wooden case that shone proudly in the early morning sun. Many gave him a smile and a wave, recognizing him as an entertainer, a minstrel. A few, though, noticed the grim, determined set of his jaw and a strange fire in his eyes. They shivered as he passed, drawing back into the shelter of doorways and averting their faces. The man paid them no heed.

* * *

Three soft raps on the door. The prince looked up from reading, the corners of his mouth twitching in a smile. He set down the book and went to the door. When he pulled it slowly open, his smile grew wider. The girl had large, pale blue eyes and black hair that hung straight and spilled over her shoulders. She was clad in a green floor-length dress, conservative as always, he observed in mild disappointment. It went all the way up to her neck and hung loosely on her rather than clinging to her luscious curves.

“My love,” he said, drawing her inside and closing the door, “you’ve arrived only just in time.”

Only then did he notice her expression, her lips pressed into a thin line of worry and her eyes lost in doubt. Still, his words brought a hint of a smile. “In time for what?” she asked.

“Why, to save me from a misery of loneliness.” He cocked his head. “You are late, Reyna.”

“I have been….” she began, and took a deep, steadying breath.

The prince touched her cheek with his fingertips and brought his lips to hers. She melted into him, letting his tongue gently probe hers while her arms gripped him fiercely. “There, no harm done,” he said. He raked his fingers back through her hair, sending happy shivers down her back. As he kissed her once more, his hand traveled slowly down her neck, across her shoulder, then back to encircle the soft, yielding flesh beneath her bodice. “I’ve missed you,” he breathed into her ear. “I need to feel you. I need to be inside you. Now.” His lips played over the smooth skin of her neck.

She shuddered and moaned, a thin, high sound from deep in her throat. He held her there motionless, frozen in the pleasure of his mouth caressing her while his hands worked at the buttons and lace of her dress. “Wait,” she murmured, trying to pull away. “Please, I don’t want to do this right now.”

For answer, the prince peeled the dress away from her shoulders and let it settle to the ground in a glistening green mound. He slid his hand across the front of her body, bringing a shiver as his fingers closed for an instant on her small, firm breast, then snaked lower, pressing into the smooth flesh of her thigh and raking teasingly over the soft ripple of her sex. “I can’t wait any longer, love,” he said, and took the soft pink nub of a nipple into his mouth. He glanced up and saw her looking away, as if trying to imagine herself somewhere else. Her lips trembled as he ran his tongue over her nipple.

He loosened his robe and stepped out of it easily. This time, when they kissed, he pushed her backwards and slowly lowered her to the bed. He pressed against her at the same moment her head touched the sheets. He closed his eyes to focus on the feel of her warmth closing around him, to revel in the ecstasy of her flesh. She drew her breath in sharply as he pierced her, closing her eyes and turning her head aside. Such a pretty, dainty little creature she was, a girl that could cling to sweet innocence even as he was fucking her. She was his youngest lover yet at only 18 years, but in some ways the best. He pumped in and out of her steadily, building towards blissful release. He slowed his pace to take a nipple into his mouth, coaxing it to firmness with his tongue.

“Do you love me?” she asked suddenly. He did not stop, but hoisted himself up to get a look at her. Her eyes were suddenly wide and searching, a spark of fear behind them.

“Of course I love you,” he said, pressing himself against her, holding his cock deep within her. “How could I not?” He chuckled at the absurdity. “Reyna, you bring me such happiness.”

That seemed to satisfy her. When he began to move once more, she closed her eyes and bit her lip, then brought her hands up above her head as if she were floating in a white sea of sheets. As always, she never made a sound when they made love. The prince felt the wave of pleasure tighten in his loins, gave a hard, deep thrust. Then another, another, and a long, soft cry as his seed spilled out of him, into her womb. He relaxed on top of her, keeping their naked bodies entwined. “Such a sweet, sweet flower,” he murmured, kissing her ear. “I wonder how it might taste.”

She stiffened at that. “You’ve never wished to do that before, my prince. Are you sure you…”

“Shh,” he chided, touching her lips. “It won’t hurt, I promise. You are young, so very young. You have much to learn about lovemaking. I just want you to feel the same kind of pleasure you’ve given me.” He did want to taste her cunt, and to hear her cry out in lust. Just the thought was making his cock grow hard again inside her.

He withdrew from her and crawled down off the end of the bed. She let her knees fall together, but he took them and positioned them firmly apart. “A pretty flower as well,” he said, inhaling the heady aroma of her womanhood. She gasped as his fingers brushed over the thin patch of hair at the top of her pussy. “Do you like that?” he said, letting his fingers glide lower, barely skimming across the lips of her sex.

“Mmm, yes,” she said dreamily.

He kissed his way slowly up her inner thigh, his hand still teasing, touching, giving the lightest of tugs. Now the scent of her made his head swim as his tongue traced the crease between her pussy and the top of her thigh. She started to moan and then cut it off suddenly. The prince patted the smooth hollow of her stomach. “Relax, my love. Let yourself go. I want to hear the sounds of your pleasure.”

He lowered his head and repeated the motion, this time running his tongue along the other side. Reyna crooned in appreciation. “It will only get better,” he said, and began to pleasure the lips of her pussy, running his tongue between them and pulling on them gently with his lips. He savored the salty flavor of his seed mixed with her slightly sweet, slightly sour juices.

The girl gradually let herself be carried away, responding freely and vocally now to his ministrations. When he deemed she was finally ready, the lips of her sex swollen in arousal, he passed his tongue over the tiny nub at the top of her slit. She spasmed and gave a high, keening cry, pushing her hips involuntarily toward him. The prince lifted himself to his elbows. “How does that feel?” he asked.

“It’s wonderful.” she murmured. “My prince,” she added.

He returned to the spot once more and maneuvered his tongue over it more slowly this time, receiving a more appropriately muted reaction from the girl. He worked slowly at the sensitive flesh, pausing now and then to plunge his tongue into her or to trace the line of her pussy. “Oh, ah, ah,” she cried out. “Yes. Yes. Oh. Yes!” She pressed herself hard against his face, her words drowned in a long wail of unrestrained pleasure. She held herself there for several moments and then collapsed, her breath still coming in short gasps.

The prince ran his fingers softly along the curve of her pussy, his cock now grown fully erect once more. “I think maybe you learned something today,” he said whimsically.

She laughed softly in her throat at that.

The prince climbed back onto her, pressing his manhood easily back into her. “There is much I could teach you, Reyna. Someday soon I’ll ask you to return the favor I’ve given you.” He began to move in and out of her slowly, and for the first time, she responded, rocking her hips to meet his thrusts. He had finally broken through her reticence, her unwillingness to accept what was happening to her during sex—at least for the moment. “Tell me to fuck you harder,” he whispered into her ear.

A strange look crossed her face. Disgust perhaps? He would break her of that before long. “There’s something I need to tell you, Edwin” she said. It was the first time he could recall her every using his name. She inhaled and licked her lips. He waited for her to continue. “The reason I was late. I got sick this morning, not the first time. And—and my blood is now weeks late in coming.”

The passion rising in him died at once. He rose to his feet, his cock sliding out of her. “You are with child?” he said, the words seeming to chill the very air around them.

“Yes, my lord,” she said, shivering. She moved to cover herself. “A midwife will tell for certain, but I wanted you to know first. I dreaded telling you, but I thought if we truly are in love…” She trailed off, trembling in fear at the look on his face.

“You are with child,” he repeated, turning around, his fists clenching at his sides. “You’ve betrayed me. You’re nothing but a filthy whore. Get out of my sight.”

She stared at him, the hurt welling up in her eyes. Her mouth hung open in shock. “I don’t understand.”

The prince grabbed her arm and dragged her to her feet. She cried out when he spat in her face. “You think that little cunt can get you a place at my side? A throne? I’ve fucked a dozen woman more beautiful than you, and none of them asked for payment when they spread their legs for me.” He drew a coin from his pocket. “Here then, whore.” He pressed it into her hand. “Take your payment and go!”

Tears streamed down her face. “I’m sorry,” she cried. “I don’t want a throne. Please don’t do this. I love you.”

“It is done,” he said, dropping his voice near a whisper. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled back her head, holding her face inches in front of his. She gasped in pain and hung limply in his grasp. “If you tell anyone else of this, I swear you’ll not live out the month. My sweet little cunt.” She whimpered as he marched her to the door. He pushed her hard, causing her to fall to the floor in the corridor.

She struggled up to her hands and knees, touching a cut on her forehead. The prince even now felt a surge of desire at her soft, naked bottom shuddering from her sobs. He felt the sudden urge to press her back down, to take her from behind like a rutting animal. 

“Please, what of my clothes?” she whined.

The prince chuckled. “What of them? Whores do not need clothes to do their work.” He swung the door closed and slid the bolt home. On the other side, the girl’s weeping took on a hysterical pitch.

He grimaced and shook his head. What a perfectly foul way to start the day.

* * *

“Well, state your name and business,” the guard drawled, looking the man over in the same manner he might assess a stray dog.

The minstrel straightened in the saddle, drawing up to his full height. He was lanky, but not scrawny, with tousled brown hair and gray eyes. His voice was deep and melodic when he spoke. “Montego. Alban Montego. I understand that you will be having a celebration soon. I wish to sell my services as an entertainer.”

The guard frowned at him. “What can you do, Alban Montego?”

“I sing and tell stories. I play the flute and dulcimer.”

“We’ve enough of that already,” the guard said, shaking his head. “The king has hired a dozen minstrels and entertainers for the prince’s birthing day. Why don’t you go look for work in the city?”

Alban’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, but I think you’ll find my music is quite special, very unique. I can play a bit for you if you like.” Not waiting for an answer, he opened the wooden case and pulled out a beautifully crafted dulcimer. Still sitting his saddle, he laid the instrument across his knees and began to play, weaving a lilting melody with the tiny hammers. Very soon, a small crowd gathered around him and stood absolutely still and quiet, entranced by the music. He began to sing as he played, oblivious to everything but the hum of the strings, an ancient song in a language that had passed away long before the stones of this castle had been set into mortar. He held the last note as the song finished, fading so slowly it was difficult to decide when he had actually stopped singing. A disappointed rumble came from the crowd.

“Well, that was something,” the guard said, blinking and rolling his shoulders as if rousing from a dream. “I’ll tell the staff to expect you then.”

“Thank you,” he said, and bowed in the saddle as he passed through the gates.

* * *

“How many more?” the prince asked, gesturing to the clerk.

The man scratched at his nose as he read the list. “Fourteen, your majesty.”

He cursed under his breath. “Very well, then. Send in the next lot.”

Prince Edwin sat to the left and one step down from his father’s throne. He felt the old man’s eyes on him but ignored the urge to turn and look. There were three in the next group of petitioners, a bent old woman with only half her teeth and two youngsters, a boy and a girl of no more than ten, who helped her hobble forward.

The clerk cleared his throat. “Madam Belford and her grandchildren. Stand there and make your case.”

“M’lord,” the woman crowed, her body shaking as she bowed painfully. “My son and her wife took ill. They died last month, and two of the children soon after. There’s no one but these two children to look after me, and the farm. We ask only for your grace to give us the aid to see us through the harvest and the winter.”

The prince stood and walked over to the three. The children cowered in the folds of their grandmother’s ragged dress. “You look like you’ve a strong back, boy,” he said. “What is your name?”

“Calvin, sir,” the boy squeaked.

“Well, Calvin. It looks as though you’ve become the man of the house. It’s going to be your job from now on to look after your family. Can you do that?”

“Yes, sir. I think so, sir.”

“Well, then, a pity you came all this way to learn it. Clerk, see that these farmers are given enough food and supplies to get them back home. Good day to you, madam.”

The old woman stared at him in shock, started to say something but thought better of it. “Come on, children,” she said tremulously. “Thank you, m’lord.”

“Wait.”

The prince turned to see his father standing. He gave Edwin a barely perceptible shake of his head. “Clerk,” he said without turning. “Give these good people twenty pieces of silver from the coffers so that they can hire help for the harvest.”

“Thank you, your highness,” the old woman said, bowing so low that she nearly fell over. Her eyes shone with tears. “Bless you.”

The prince glared at her back as she hobbled away. His father, the king, watched the prince with a grave expression as Edwin returned to his chair. The king leaned close and lowered his voice. “A king cannot be deaf to the hardships of his people.”

The prince snorted. “And if I grant every peasant’s request for charity, the coffers will be empty in a month.”

“Not every request. It is your duty to help those who are most desperate. Did you look at those children? They were sick from want of food. They will not live much longer if they don’t get it. The old woman was worse. The money in the coffers comes from taxes. Taxes come from the people, and a dead family cannot pay their taxes.”

“Well, we’ll just see if they don’t come calling next year,” the prince retorted.