Gentle probing, evasive answers

"Thank-you Master Werner." The girl's voice was clear and gentile, this is definitely not some harlot's get. "That is where my brother and I were trying to reach."

"Are you alone?"

Christine wanted to explain but remembered what her father had told her. "My brother and were traveling with a company, but ..." she hesitated as she tried to think of some reason a girl and her brother would leave the protection of a troop of travelers.

"But one of the men took an unhealthy interest in you?" He guessed, and the relief on the girl's face was enough to confirm his suspicions. He wondered at what kind of parents would put their daughter in a **** position like that, and almost as if she could read his mind the girl gave him an answer.

"Plague took much of my family." It didn't feel far from the truth to call Prince Henry a plague. "Our mother is sick, and my father is away on pilgrimage." Christine explained, and the Verderer felt his heart soften.

"The two of you ride. I can walk easily enough." He lifted the boy onto his horse noting that although the lad had a slight frame, he was well fed and had all his teeth. "What business have you in Oldchester?"

"I'm visiting Merthin the notary, on Gold Street." The Verderer knew of Merthin, although not much about him, he had business dealings with many different peoples from merchants and landowners and clergy all the way up to landed nobles. "Merthin is a family friend who is supporting us financially while my father is away."

The Verderer took a moment to digest the information, on the surface it seemed reasonable but there was something about the response that didn't feel right. What would the wealthy notary do when this charming young woman showed up unexpectedly on his doorstep? "No doubt your father has gone to Jerusalem to pray for the lost souls. I have children your age and I wouldn't want them alone." He lifted the young woman up to join her brother. She smelled of swamp water, but he hadn't forgotten the creamy swell of her breast, and her waist fit easily in his large hands. Being so close to a young woman aroused him much more than it should have.

Christine felt thankful for being rescued but also after a day of walking and worries it was nice to finally rest her feet. Erik rested his head on his sister's back and soon drifted in and out of a doze.

The attack by the outlaws, and Prince Henry's betrayal of her father before that had been horrific. But the two events had opened her eyes to a whole new world, a dangerous one for young women who lacked worldly ways.

With her legs straddling the saddle, the rhythmic movement of the horse was sending a pleasant massage up through her loins that spread to her toes, nipples and fingers. It was driving her crazy, on top of everything else that had happened it felt like her innocence was under constant attack. In spite of her confusion, she found herself pressing down onto the saddle against the motion of the horse and letting the waves of pleasure sooth her troubles.

Beginning with her ordeal with the lustful Price Henry, these past few days had exposed Christine to more carnal experiences then in all the years prior. Being groped under her skirt like a common barmaid had opened a sinful box of conflicted emotions and her sudden bloody rescue only added to her confusion. Now, as her pelvis rocked against the horn of the saddle, the added stimulation was making it hard to think clearly. It was like something out of a fairy tale with the Verderer the handsome prince charming; she wasn't sure how to handle it. The Verderer felt Christine's eyes upon him and continued his questioning.

"How old are you? A young woman of your looks must have men battering down the door." The combination of the Verderer's kind words and the rhythmic motion against the horse's saddle made it harder than ever to think.

"My father is always looking for suitors. But I have not yet met one whom I cared for." That much at least was the truth, between the insipid Sir William whose lack of character left her cold, and Prince Henry whose shear wickedness revolted her, neither of her suitors were at all to her liking.

"Your accent suggests you have standing." Werner continued, "when not on pilgrimage, what does your father do for work?" She could hardly fault the man for making conversation, but she wished he'd stop asking her questions.

"He's a merchant." The young woman's answer seemed deliberately vague, but further probing was unlikely to get any results, so he let it drop.

As they approached Oldchester the road became busier. The tree cover thinned, and the telltale signs of people were littered around. Droppings from all manner of herd animals, discarded rags and makeshift shacks were signs that even Christine recognized. Soon they were accompanied by beggars, woodcutters, preachers and charm-sellers offering food and prayers for the travelers.

Then they arrived at the large imposing oaken gates reinforced with bands of beaten iron that were set into of the grey stone city wall with giant black hinges.

There was a long queue waiting to gain entrance; each member of the throng had to pause for an inspection before being allowed into Oldchester. Armed guards of the sheriff were questioning unfamiliar faces and inspecting carts. There was tension too. News obviously travelled fast about what happened at Bartholomew Castle.

The Verderer however was known, and with a careless wave from the guard he and his young companions were given free passage into the city without questioning.

Once through the great gates, the Verderer turned to Christine who was still upon his horse. In spite of the mud on her face and the somber look on her face, he found her astoundingly pretty. As a younger man he could easily have fallen in love with a face and body such hers. Even now as he approached middle age, he could still feel himself getting aroused.

"Do you want to come back to my house?" He should send her and her brother on the way, but instead he was prolonging the temptation. "You can rest and, wash, and eat before meeting Merthin."