Bringing Claire Home [Elinor's Stronghold 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 2

  “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.

  Claire had licked up and down his shaft, then bitten it gently, before sucking his cockhead back into her mouth again. Before she’d finished playing, he was groaning and pumping his hips hard, his essence filling her mouth until it ran out the sides while she tried to swallow it down.

  * * * *

  Ivan walked steadily in the pace he’d developed over the last twelve months. It was a speed that enabled him to keep a close watch on everything around him, but still moved him across the countryside quite rapidly. Over the past year, he’d come to know the wooded area intimately. Every tall tree was a landmark. Every dip and hollow was engraved in his memory. He knew where the edible nuts grew and where the rabbits ran. He could turn himself around and around and still be certain which direction would lead him to their campsite. He’d stayed well away from the hamlets and been careful never to hunt too close to them, but he’d never seen or heard anyone else in the forest, so was reasonably sure they stayed away or kept very close to the edges nearest their hamlets.

  He wasn’t sure whether this was a good sign or a bad one. If the people had been very hungry, they would have been hunting deeper in the forest where animals tended to hide, particularly in the colder months. So perhaps they weren’t hungry. But if the people had been killed or moved away, they wouldn’t be in the forest either, and that would be a worrying thing, indicating Lord Jeffrey, or other soldiers, were still attacking the peasants, which was not good for him, Claire, and Paul.

  Yes, it was more than time they searched for some fresh news.

  He loved Claire. She was beautiful, sweet, kind, caring, everything a man co
uld want in a woman. Paul would let her marry him, he was certain. But he was also certain she loved someone else, and he couldn’t bear to have her break her heart. If she loved another, she could never be his. That hurt him so much. He wanted her to love him and only him, but he was too late. She’d already given her heart away before he met her. Perhaps the other man was married now, or even dead. But that would upset her, too. Or would she turn to him for consolation? He could accept that, being the one to console her sadness instead of her true love, if only she would give herself to him willingly.

  But any future plans were dependent on them leaving the forest and returning to a normal life. He would go with Paul and Claire to their home, either to work with Paul or to marry Claire, or both. He had no home anymore. His father had remarried, and the new wife didn’t want a grown-up son eating her food or taking up space in her house. He’d decided to become a soldier but had met up with Paul and Claire and stayed with them instead. He was glad now. Men learned soldiering from childhood, and likely he’d have been killed already had he attempted that trade. Farming was what he knew. He’d stick with that.

  Ivan trod gently on the ground, never following a path so he didn’t wear a trail through the undergrowth. He sidestepped around hollows and trees, following rabbit tracks and ducking under bushes as he went, moving circuitously to make anyone trying to follow him work hard for their success. Even in clearings, he walked around the edges, not across the middle. But even so, he made good time and knew he was nearing the eastern hamlet by midafternoon. Twice he’d stopped to drink from fresh-running streamlets. Now he sat under a tree and ate a piece of meat and a handful of berries while he decided what to say to the people. The truth was always best. So he’d left home because of his father’s new wife and was on his way to farm with friends.

  Having decided what to say, he circled around some more so he approached the hamlet from a different path. The crop had been harvested, and the land appeared to be well cared for. That was all good, indicating no marauding soldiers had been there recently. He stood at the edge of the trees, looking carefully in every direction, but saw no people, so he stepped onto the road and walked toward the hamlet.

  Chapter Three

  The old lady and the boy both rode Mitchell’s horse back to Lord Ceadda’s stronghold, a large bundle of their possessions tied across its back. Mitchell led the animal, carrying a sturdy wooden staff in one hand and his dagger in the other, but they saw no signs of trouble.

  “Back so soon, boy?”

  “I’m sorry, Lord Ceadda, but these people were left alone in a hamlet with no way to feed themselves over winter, so I thought I’d best bring them to your demesne.”

  The elderly lord waved at a servant, possibly his steward, Mitchell thought, who took the old lady and the boy, while a man came to care for the horse.

  “You’d best stay the night again,” said the lord.

  “Thank you, lord. May I also talk to your people and find out if any of them have seen Claire? She’d never been to the hamlet where I expected to find her.”

  “Of course.”

  Mitchell spoke first to the guards, thinking they would know what had been happening in the area. But they spoke mainly of people coming into the stronghold, not leaving it.

  “When the soldiers first attacked, they were very angry and killed a lot of people. Sometimes they burned entire hamlets to the ground, and other times they just stole all the food, but a lot of people were killed. Those left alive came here,” said the head guard.

  “I can take you to a group of survivors, and you can talk to them, if that would help,” said another guard.

  “Thank you. That would be good.”

  They walked the length of the stronghold to a far corner where newish huts were built. The guard left him there, nodding to an older woman, sitting on a log, watching a group of children playing in the dirt.

  “My name is Mitchell. I’m trying to find my true love, Claire. Her brother brought her to this area to seek protection with family, about a year ago, but I can find no trace of her.”

  “Please sit down. I know of no Claire, nor have I heard of people coming into the area. Lord Jeffrey’s soldiers killed many, but that’s more than a year since, and the people fled here to Lord Ceadda’s demesne, to gain his protection. The old lord has cared for us all. None have perished here.”

  “The few people left at the hamlet said she’d never arrived, and Lord Ceadda knows nothing of them. Where would her brother have taken her then? Is there another stronghold in the area?”

  “Unless they left the valley, there’s nowhere else for them to go. Are you sure they didn’t return to their home via a different route, and you’ve just missed them on your journey?”

  “No, they would have returned long before I left. What can have happened to them? Where can Claire be?”

  The woman rested a gentle hand on Mitchell’s shoulder. “Young man, I think you need to be prepared for the thought that either the journey or the soldiers killed them. If they didn’t come here, and didn’t arrive at their destination, I fear there is no other possibility.”

  Mitchell jumped to his feet, pain searing through his body. “No! No! I’ll never believe she’s dead. She’s somewhere. I just have to find her.”

  “Well then, I suggest you return home along a different path. There are some hamlets that were spared most of Lord Jeffrey’s attacks. I guess he couldn’t find them or didn’t know they existed. But they’re well to the east, on the other side of the wooded land. Perhaps that’s where you should go.”

  The pain in his chest eased, and hope bloomed again. “Of course. Paul’s one aim was to keep Claire safe. He would have taken to her where Lord Jeffrey couldn’t find them. I will indeed go east. Thank you.”

  Now he had a plan, Mitchell hurried back to the guard house to get directions to these easterly hamlets. That’s where Claire will be, safe and well. I just hoped she’s still unmarried.

  * * * *

  Ivan was stunned to see that a group of children playing in front of the houses didn’t run inside to hide as he arrived. They stopped playing and waited for him to approach. He expected them to vanish, or at least go and get their fathers, but they were quite unafraid of him. It’s because I’m just one man and not wearing armor. But it seemed wrong somehow. Had they no sense of self-preservation, these little ones?

  He stopped a good distance from the children and asked, “Please may I speak with the headman?”

  A couple of the children ran off then, but one, a girl, reappeared almost immediately, handing him a mug of cold water.

  “Thank you.” He drank it down. It was cool and delicious. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he’d become since he’d last passed a stream.

  The other child reappeared with a couple of women.

  “The men are all in the fields. How can we help you? Do you need a place to stay this night?” asked one.

  “I’d be grateful for a place to rest, indeed, thank you. But mostly I’m eager to hear the news from around here. I’m on my way south to work on the farm of a friend, but yours is the first well-cared-for hamlet I’ve seen in a long while.”

  The women were willing to talk, and soon he’d heard how Lord Jeffrey had been killed riding across a partly frozen river when he’d tried to attack a hamlet close by Lady Elinor’s stronghold.

  “Lord Rhys has reclaimed his demesne and has built a stone wall to protect it,” added one woman.

  “And Lady Elinor has twin sons. Two of them,” added the older girl who’d given him a drink.

  “That is wonderful news indeed. But if the soldiers are all gone, why are so many hamlets derelict? Are there masterless men roaming the area?”

  “On the other side of the woods, Lord Jeffrey’s soldiers were particularly vicious. They killed many people. The survivors went to Lord Ceadda’s stronghold and haven’t come back,” said a woman who hadn’t previously spoken.

  “We think it’s because the people h
ere were well prepared. Everyone knew Lord Jeffrey was attacking peasants, so people had buried or hidden their crops, and vegetables, and seed. Which meant there wasn’t much for him to take. We think the soldiers became angry when they found so little to steal, and in their anger, they killed everyone,” said the first woman.

  “What a choice. Starve to death or be murdered!” added another.

  “Yes, yes, that may be true indeed,” said Mitchell thoughtfully. It would also explain why he’d neither seen nor heard the people from the nearby hamlets in the forest. But overall it was wonderful news. They could all go home to Paul’s farm. Even though it’d been neglected for a year, and it was too late now to sow crops, they could still hunt and gather enough to survive winter with two of them working hard. Besides, Claire had a flair for finding edibles in the forest, too. Surely she would remember where such things were back in own woods. Life in a house, even if a fraction rundown and needing maintenance done on it, would be much better than spending winter in the forest.

  The only problem would be if Claire raced straight into the arms of the man she loved. For a moment Ivan wondered if they should stay in the forest until spring at least. He’d have her to himself then, and they could return in time to plant the crops. But no. That was silly. If she was going to leave him, it would happen. He just had to trust the man was already married to another woman and that Claire would choose to come to him.

  Just as the sky was darkening toward nightfall, a large man on a horse rode into the hamlet. For a moment Ivan was worried it was a soldier, but it soon became obvious the man was just a freeman like himself, and the horse was old, not a soldier’s mount.

  “Two visitors in the one day!” gasped the girl who’d brought him water.

  “I’m sorry to arrive so late and must beg a place to stay the night, but I’m looking for my lost love and hope you have some news of her. Her name is Claire, and I am Mitchell,” said the large man.