Guy Dorr chuckled upon passing a safe distance away from his latest mark. The man continued to haggle with the hawker at his cart, completely unaware that he no longer had any coin to pay once the dueling pair reached an acceptable price. Guy had slit the man's purse with a razor sharp knife without even breaking stride.
Slipping the coins into his own purse, Guy thought,
I should have abandoned the hinterlands long ago. So many pretty birds to pluck.
Noticing a petite brunette with an eye-catching bosom, he added,
In more ways than one.
Touching the brim of his hat and offering a charming smile, his eyes lit up upon seeing color rise into the young woman's cheeks.
Mind the time,
he chastised himself, knowing that he would find any number of occasions for dalliance in less pressing times.
Patting the vial tucked into the waistband of his breeches, Guy quickly strode to his horse. Mounting the dark brown stallion, a tap of his heels and a quiet command of "Hah, Judas," set the animal off toward the Lempe estate.
As he rode, Guy contemplated the gossip in the village. Virtually every man, woman, and child knew some story about the events of the past few days. How many of these rumors possessed a scrap of truth was suspect, but Guy knew far better than to ignore any information.
While murders and fear of a black hearted wizard could prove advantageous in covering his own work, it also presented a greater level of alertness on the part of the entire populace. The resurrection of the knighthood also required caution. For the time being, Guy felt that the knights were of little consequence – a mere villager and a stableboy – but that could very well change in a short time if the new Queen continued to knight anyone who struck her fancy.
Guy raised his eyebrows and smiled as he wondered how
he
might catch the Queen's eye. According to the tongue waggling in the village and surrounding estates, the woman was beautiful, untouched, and had lived in a peasant's squalor until the moment she took the throne. Status as a knight would immediately elevate him to a level granting him tremendous freedom.
Why stop there?
Guy mused.
She has already broken from tradition in knighting the manure shoveler and the village boy. Might not a charming man win her hand and heart to become Queen Consort?
Topping a rise, Guy saw his destination come into view.
Enough of that for now,
he wisely thought. He focused his mind on the task at hand as he rode up to the estate, passing off Judas to a stableboy only seconds after bringing the horse to a halt. He needed no servant to guide him, and walked with quick, confident steps toward where he knew his benefactor awaited him.
The man's head immediately turned toward the door when Guy opened it. Guy could see the anxiety in the man's eyes, and it brought a smile to his lips. "All proceeds as planned, Walter. You have the wine set aside, I trust?" He asked as he removed his riding gloves.
"I have," Walter Lempe replied. "You are sure that Simon will forgive my debt for such a small amount of wine?" He smoothed back his salt-and-pepper hair, his expression filled with concern.
Waving his hand in a dismissive gesture, Guy responded, "Wine fit for the Queen's own table, Goodman. You do your fine vintage a disservice. Simon gnaws at the bit, as a yearling eager to run. I have firmly convinced him that his path to genteel society now lies open before him. He will do anything I suggest."
"With that debt forgiven, I would have the means to attain the prosperity so long denied me," Walter declared, tamping his fist on the table to punctuate the statement. Immediately thereafter, a coughing fit wracked his body.
Giving Walter time to regain his composure, Guy then said. "And so you shall. You have the bottles for my associate? I must needs meet with him this night, and he demands his payment."
Nodding, Walter gestured to his wife. The curvy, auburn-tressed woman retrieved two wine bottles from a sideboard, bringing them to the table before Guy. She then turned to her husband, who once more fought for breath through a fit of coughing. "Husband, you should seek your bed." She gestured for a stout servant, who moved to stand next to Walter's chair. "I will have one of the servants see our guest on his way."
Weakly nodding his head, Walter allowed the servant to help him rise, and then to walk from the room toward the bedchamber. Anne looked on with concern until her husband vanished from view, the servant closing the door behind them. Now alone, she turned to Guy, who stood up from his chair with a smile. Stepping forward into his embrace, she tightly closed her arms around him. A quavering sigh bubbled from her lips as the stiff tips of her breasts pressed against his muscular chest. "Please tell me that you spoke untrue. Must you leave?"
Kissing her forehead, his manhood swelling beneath his breeches, Guy let out a melancholy sigh. "I fear I spoke truth, fair Anne. I must take to horse immediately."
"Will you return this night? I ache for you, my love."
"No, dear Anne. Yet another night and day must we spend apart, even should the fates be kind."
"I do not know how I shall endure it."
Raising her face to his, Guy kissed her full lips. "Nor do I, but it is needful. I must leave."
"Go then, while I yet have the strength of will to allow it," Anne pleaded while stepping away from him.
Picking up the bottles, Guy said, "Rest well, my fair flower. Seek me in your dreams and I shall await you there."
Her lip quivering, Anne nodded and swept out of the room in a flurry of skirts.
Guy returned to his horse, stowing the bottles carefully in his saddlebags. Fed and rested, Judas responded with enthusiasm when Guy spurred his mount into motion toward the Gifford estate.
****
"Timing is of the essence, Simon," Guy assured the pacing lord of the Gifford estate.
"Too long have I waited for this opportunity," Simon grumbled. "So many times that fool has been on the brink of ruin, only to endure. Too long have I looked on, denied my rightful place in gentle society. I
must
have access to his vines. When every table holds my beer and his wine, under my control, none will be able to deny me my place."
"And so you shall," Guy said with a smile, amused because he had said the exact same words to Simon's bane, Walter, only a short ride ago. "What he will send to you will force him to provide lesser vintages to others. When foul thieves abscond with the wine before it reaches you, thus dissolving your bargain..."
"He will not have the means to pay his debt to me, and I will have what I desire," Simon finished.
Producing one of the bottles of wine, Guy sat it down and gestured toward it. "To celebrate your rightful station. I think Walter's finest vintage is appropriate for just such a joyous occasion." Reaching into a pouch, he then produced the vial he had obtained in the village. "And the other, of course."
"God be praised. I have seen each hour these last two nights. The pain grows unbearable, and I am weary beyond sense."
Bowing his head, Guy said, "The opium will surely give you both rest and relief, Simon. I sense that perhaps you may wish to partake of that blessed relief before our celebration?"
"I fear I shall take leave of my wits if I do not sleep soon," Simon answered.
"Then go, my friend. I will take the bottle to the cellar and seek my bed. We will celebrate when you awaken."
With a nod, Simon left, and Guy held true to his word. He lay back on the bed with a sigh, a smug smile spread across his face. Naturally, he had no intention of ruining Walter, nor of removing Simon's hold over his neighbor – at least not yet. Both men were so single mindedly devoted to their goals that they would never guess his duplicity in playing them both for fools for some time.
Misfortunes 'beyond his ability to control' would prevent either man from attaining what they desired in whole, while continuing to tempt them with the sweet taste of victory. Guy had no intention of surrendering the fine life he enjoyed between the two households. Uncorking the second bottle of wine, he took a sip and let out a blissful sigh.
A knock on the door and a call of, "Fresh linens," sent a rush of blood through Guy's nether regions. Rising from the bed, he crossed the room to the door and opened it, letting the buxom, raven-haired chambermaid enter the room.
The door barely closed before Isabel dropped the linens to the bed and stepped into Guy's arms. Her hands caressed his swelling manhood through his breeches, and her lips sought his with hungry passion.