Head Toward the Forest

You leave the city through the high gate. Evleyn's horse eagerly trots after yours, The merchants, townsfolk, and peasantry normally congesting the gate willingly part before you; even the city guard let you pass in slack jawed surprise. The lady knight's eyes grow ever wider with each passing set of eyes that take her in, in all of her jiggling, clanging nudity.

As you cross the stone bridge on the far side of the gatehouse, the laughter erupts. And then the comments: "Seen a knight ride bareback but never seen a bareback knight!" "Got a lance to batter on that shield!" "Nice set of utters atop that horse!", and one older woman who cried, "Shameless Trollop!"

You continued to trot along the sandy road cutting through waving fields of wheat. Ahead was the woodlands. It was not the sort of wild, unkempt endless rolling expanse of trees that one likes to imagine. Rather its shape and extent was clearly visible. It ran a few miles east-to-west and the same north-to-south. A square of ancient forest whose edges cut off abruptly by the ceaseless demand for agricultural land.

You bring the horses to a halt.

Behind you, Evelyn's face was beet-red, eyes screwed shut with sweat beading on her forehead, though it was hard to tell how much of that was from embarrassment and how much from the insidious ministrations of the silken pillow positioned to stroke her most intimate regions with every jostle of her trotting horse.

"You bastard!" she cried between pants. "You've undone me! The entire city things I'm a shameless trollop because of you!"

"Maybe they don't know you," you offer with a smile. "Do you get out much?"

"What?"

"You know, go out among the people. I thought knights were always supposed to be traveling around, questing, swearing oaths, stabbing defenseless dragons and such."

"I… I spend my time at the duchess' court or my mansion." She was unprepared for the sudden change of topic. "I never get to go adventuring, or use my sword for real."

"Ah!" You purse your lips thoughtfully as you pull a clean handkerchief from your sleeve. "So, you're not really a knight then?"

"I am a knight, sirrah!" snapped Evelyn.

"Evelyn," you sigh as you tie knots in the middle of the white cloth. "I can't help you until you're willing to admit the truth. That you are a shameless exhibitionist."

"I-" Evelyn was cutoff as the knotted handkerchief appeared in her mouth, the ends knotted soundly behind her head.

The lady's eyes were wide as she mumbled out what was either threats or pleading into her gag. Possibly both.

"You're right," you say, "I do need to focus. That forest still is a sizable area and finding those elves, assuming they're even there, will take a bit of luck." You rub your chin in thought. "Or, a proper knight. Do you know any?"

It was hard to tell what Evelyn was saying into the handkerchief. From the look in her eyes, you assume she's pondering how she went from being an armed and armored knight of the realm to a naked, jingling trollop in the course of a day. Or, how best to stab you.

You'd take even odds either way.

"Brilliant idea!" You can barely contain your chuckle. "A distraction is just what we need!"

With a hard slap on her horse's rump, Evelyn bolted off toward the trees mewing into her gag.