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The beast with two backs writhed once more ... and this time, the princess had chosen a stable boy. The youth was strong, virile, and far too excited to stop and think about the danger he was in. The princess had chosen him ... him ... and that was all that mattered. From on high, the golden haired majesty had descended, chosen a mere mortal from the herd, and taken him off to a private place. There ... they did things to each other that could never see the light of day.

Broad strong hands gripped her flanks as he pressed into her, creating the pleasing chorus of a lover in ecstasy. His girth was impressive, spreading her wide with each savage thrust and jerking her body violently. Their drumbeat pulsed through milky flesh, causing her small breasts to leap sharply. A light sheen of sweat lathered her immaculate skin. Long, blonde curls tumbled over the noble face like a mane, hiding her expression and granting her an almost savage appearance.

The princess tensed, pressing back toward her stable boy as he shoved himself forward. The sounds of their joining were wet and vigorous, slapping enthusiastically through the barn as horses moved restlessly in their stalls. Energy, rhythm, and lust built in a heady aura until her screams rose up to one final pique.

Potent muscles rippled along the man's back and thighs, as his roar joined hers. A flood of heated lust gushed into his precious princess. The high of their joining held them taught for several seconds until they collapsed into a weary pile. The blankets held away the dirt of their surroundings and they drew back together in a sigh of spent passions and well worked muscles.

"Oh ... my beast," the princess cooed. "On my honor ... you have served me well."

The words had been spoken, signaling the knight to rise from his hiding place. The door to the horse stall creaked slightly as he entered, but the youth was far too saturated in afterglow to realize the true danger of it all. The boy's dull brown eyes looked up at the intruder but did not snap into focus until the knight's sword cleared its sheath.

"Stand fast," the knight spoke coldly, "withdraw from that vessel and stand ... slowly." At first the words did not seem to make sense to the stable boy, but then the blood returned from his abdomen, spreading back out into the other limbs until it reached his brain.

"Oh," the stable boy said softly as his eyes tracked from the sword, to the knight, over to his lady, and then back to the sword again. A hard swallow marked the realization of his situation and he withdrew his body from the princess.

"Up, boy," the knight ordered in a calm voice, which would be much more terrifying than a shout. A motion of his blade reinforced his meaning, and the stable boy obeyed. It was then that the knight realized that this youth was definitely not a boy. The young man would have made a fine knight, if the kingdom could afford all of the metal it would have taken to cover his impressive frame. "My princess, has he hurt you?"

"Oh yes," the princess purred with a dreamy expression, "many times ... see to it, sir."

"On my honor," the knight acknowledged in a professional tone, his eyes focused entirely upon the big man before him. "Dress yourself."

The massive man nodded slowly, shrugging into his tunic and breeches as if he were rolling out of bed on any given morning. When he stood, it was with a slouch, and his eyes stayed firmly upon the ground, not daring to look up into the face of either one of the nobles present. The arresting knight then tossed a set of manacles onto the ground in front of the prisoner. The big man took them up and dutifully locked them into place.

For several more seconds, the knight took in the scene. The danger was not yet over. Even shackled, this man could break the princess in half or smash the knight's bones with a well-placed kick. Only the illusions of their rank held the young man in chains ... chains which could be broken if he realized the power he held.

"Sir Kendal waits with your steed, my princess," the knight told her, but she giggled softly in the manner which she often did when sending young men off to die for her like this.

"Well done, Sir William," she told him gaily. "Proceed."

With that, Sir William motioned the stable man out into the night. The walk to the greenwood was a short one. The rendezvous had taken place far enough from the city so that they would not draw attention. Shouts and screams would not be heard out this far and they only walked out into the wood line so that the princess would not need to witness the reality of this bloodshed.

When they had gone far enough, the knight indicated a tree, which the young man stood facing. An expression of relaxed peace covered his large face without a trace of fear.

"Was she worth it?" Sir William asked before he realized the words were even gathering.

"Yes," the man answered simply. The smile on his face broadened and his eyes turned towards the knight in passive defiance. "Her soul is so passionate ... her wits are so sharp ... her body ..." his voice trailed off and his smile grew more lecherous. "She is worthy."

Sir William's eyes narrowed, something was not right. It had not occurred to him right away, but the big man was not talking like a simpleton. Peasants did not use such large words or speak in the clear tones of the cultured and educated. This man was something other than he appeared.

"If you were to survive this night," the knight asked carefully, "would you spare her honor? Would you leave this place and speak not a word of this disgrace to another soul?"

"On my honor," the young man spoke with conviction. "She is far too ... precious for me to hurt her. A woman like that comes around only once in a century."

There it is again, the knight thought as he moved some of the facts around in his mind. The man before him was dressed like a broad backed stableman ... but he was noble. It showed in the certainty of his words, the stance of his body, and the way he looked at the knight as if he owned him. Only powerfully born nobility wear this flavor of arrogance like a favorite pair of boots.

"Show me your hands," Sir William instructed in his calm manner as he returned his sword to its scabbard and then drew a small ring of keys. The condemned man held his manacles toward his captor as if he had expected this. There was no doubt in the knight's mind as he clicked the iron rings open and let the fall away. The previously condemned man took a breath, as if he had set down a mighty burden, and rubbed at the circles of chaffed skin around his wrists. "What is your name, young man?"

"Strom, sir," the young man said easily. Sir William nodded as he decided this name was either true or just a very natural lie.

"Well, Strom," William finally pressed on, "reach into that tree behind you and draw forth what is inside." The young man reached into a hole what looked as if it were an animal's burrow and retrieved the items within. "That's salted meat, a skin of mead, and enough coin for you to equip yourself and then start your life anew ... somewhere far from this place."

"You're ... sending me into the greenwood?" Strom spoke as if he had not expected this, but there was something else there as well. Whatever this man was, William knew he needed to send him on his way as quickly and efficiently as he could manage.

"I am," the knight nodded, "but only if you take yourself far from this place and never return to these lands. The princess can never see you like this again ... and no one else must know of this encounter. If the princess realizes I spared you ... she will order our deaths. If that happens ... then we shall be dead. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir," the big man nodded.

"I want to hear you swear it," the knight pressed him.

"I swear, I will not come back here," Strom promised him. "I swear to never to speak of this encounter and I shall not slander Princess Alessa. All of this I swear by my heart and my name." He paused as if he wanted to swear more oaths but was unable to think of any.

"I love her too," Sir William said in an understanding tone. "She is the reason I live ... she is my honor and my life ... and it is for her sake that I spare your life ... so that her soul is not stained with innocent blood."

"She is worthy of our hearts and so much more," Strom whispered and then he sniffed and gave the knight a passionate look. "On my honor ... I shall not forget. My debt to you, sir knight, shall yet be paid."

The big man placed one fist upon his chest, as if saluting, and then bowed deeply to the smaller man. Then he gathered up the supplies which had been prepared for him and strode happily off into the west.

A chill went down the knight's back as he watched Strom go. A noble's son ... here in disguise to bed our fare princess. Did he come here on his own or did she lure him here? He seemed to know I was not going to hurt him. He managed to find our princess, gave her his lust, and lived to rut another day. Was this his plan all along? Have I gone soft in this game?

"Gods and devils," the knight cursed as he spat on the grass. Then he turned away from the chaos of his worries and returned to his duties.

*****

"Captain," Sir Kendal acknowledged his superior when he returned from the greenwood and joined his superior upon the ramparts.

"Lieutenant," Sir William nodded. The stars sparkled brilliantly in the dark and the moon was a waxing gibbous ... not quite full, but growing. Neither of them wore armor, instead choosing dull gray tunics and the blackest of cloaks. The badge of their office was worn on the same finger that other men might reserve for a wedding band.

Knights of the Lion's Order are married to our liege, not our lust. No lands ... no lovers ... no one else shall I love but my king, my queen, and their children.

"Report."

"Our lioness has returned to her lair," the subordinate knight spoke in code.

"Understood," Sir William nodded. His eyes returned to the night as he thought a few bit of information out loud. "Our king's guests have retired for the night. None of them appear to have uncovered this intrigue."

"Not this time," the younger man growled but then he seemed to hesitate.

"I know," William said with a nod, "this makes three."

"In a month," Sir Kendal hissed.

"I know."

"This is madness."

"I know."

The pair of them were quiet for a long time as they both stared out at the stars.

"Where is our honor?" the younger man lamented softly.

"In the tallest tower with the princess we love," the older knight replied smoothly.

"That's fine for the others," the lieutenant growled, "but what about us? What about the gods? They are watching us fail! They are judging us!"

"What would you have us do, Kendal?" the captain asked without malice. "Shall we bring charges against her? Slander her name? Shame her house? Reveal this darkness to the entire realm and watch as our king's political rivals destroy him with this knowledge?"

"No I-"

"I know she's evil, Kendal," the older knight cut off his subordinate. "I know that she loves to have men throw away their lives for her. I know we are only her tools. But I also know that if we let this out, it will be death by politics or war. Every noble has some inhuman hunger inside of them and those of us who serve must feed that hunger without letting it ruin all we have built."

"So ... it's all about the greater good." Again, the silence fell between them and the younger man eventually let out a frustrated sigh. "Michael's watch will begin shortly," he said in a tightly controlled tone. "I'll ... tell him that the princess has had a long day and needs her rest."

"Proceed, lieutenant," Captain William told him, and his subordinate stalked away. The aging knight stared longingly into the black sky, and though the stars held no answers, that did not stop his mind from asking. How long must this go on? How long until she takes one of us into her bed and then slakes her thirst with our blood?

_ _

*****

_ _

"Ah, captain, come."

The knight commander stepped into the delicate garden and dropped to one knee before his king. A sharp pain creaked through the joints which supported his weight, but he had been expecting it. Age and action had taken their toll. Eventually he would be too broken to serve and he would retire. Maybe he would become a teacher. Maybe he would try his hand at farming. Maybe he would quietly disappear ... but not yet.

"How may I serve The Lion's Heart?"

"Rise," the king ordered, and the knight obeyed. "Another suitor has asked for Alessa's hand," the king focused upon the flowers before him as he spoke. A set of pruning shears clipped a loose end as he enforced his will upon it. "You and your men shall be providing security ... but I want you to coordinate with Aether's guards in order to prevent another tragic assassination."

"Of course, sire," Captain William said in his carefully controlled formal tone. The silence stretched as the knight sorted through these new facts.

Prince Aether has a powerful family but he is not one of the ranking members. His refusal to court proper ladies has earned him shame. Rumors of his interests range from boys to beasts. His fighting skills are lacking but he has a keen eye for art and a rapier wit which amuses at court.

The sound of the shears struck again and then the king turned to face his knight.

"Prince Aether Kentwood, is the current suitor, but it is unlikely their union will succeed," the king a knowing with a face. Displeased eyes caused the knight to reflexively shiver but he held firm to his resolve. "That boy prefers his lords to his ladies ... but his family controls the western passage through Shire Wood, and they are both a military and trade asset. Uniting our houses would increase our collective might and grant us at least a third of total troop assets throughout the realm."

Another pause occurred as the king considered another sprout but then left it be. "I have a special mission for you, captain. Security will be important, but I need a loyal agent ready to act when an opportunity presents itself." The king moved into William's personal space and reduced his voice to a more private tone.

"We both know that my daughter has certain ... appetites, which she must indulge in. I doubt this marriage will quench her lusty ways and she will seek lovers outside of the union. To that end, I will need you to be ready to act ... with authority." An attendant arrived to accept the tools and gloves which the king was no longer using and then he spirited them all away before his liege spoke again. Royal blue eyes fastened sternly upon the captain's face and held him there in judgment until a parchment was drawn forth.

"This is a declaration of guardianship," the king spoke in a low growl. "You shall act in my absence as her lord. The consummation of this union must produce an heir if it is to succeed. If the father of that heir is of appropriate station then you are to trap them in a marriage that we can use. If she beds a wretch then you must convince the groom that the child is his own. Failure will lead to war ... and a struggle for the throne. Already, several lesser lords have begun gathering their forces. Two of my poison tasters have lost their lives in a fortnight ... we must act now if we are to stop this."

"Sire," Captain William nodded slightly in understanding but then he added another concern, "Princess Sera ... is there a plan to-"

"Of course there is a plan," the king rumbled irritably. "There are already a dozen men flinging themselves off of cliffs for her hand ... though she has not yet flowered." The aging father softened for a heartbeat before his nostrils flared once more. "There is a plan, good knight. Other agents are in motion, but the fewer who know ... the less can go wrong."

"Of course, sire," the captain said as he visibly relaxed and then remembered to bow.

"Dismissed, captain."