Cracks and hisses came from the roaring fire as Donal' sat leaning back against the side of the hearth. He had spent another uneventful day waiting for the night to come and Mhari to appear.
He watched her run her tongue over her lips, concentration on her face. She held up a hand and ran her thumb over the tips of her fingers. Satisfied with the result she looked down to her breasts and her brow furrowed as she concentrated. Her breasts started to swell and fill out. A satisfied smile lit up Mhari's face and she looked to Donal'.
"Close yer mouth, Donal'." She looked back down at her achievement and brought her hands up to hold her breasts. "I always wanted them to be bigger, and now I can..." Mhari looked towards him. "The lads were always chasing after the bigger girls." Her eyes locked on to his. "What do you think?" she asked.
Donal' thought before answering, "They suit ye. But... ye were beautiful before." His gaze travelled up from her breasts to her eyes.
"Ye'r a rare find, Donal'. Thank you." She blurred and came back into focus wearing a skirt and bodice, her figure returned to normal.
Mhari sat in silence for a few seconds and seemed to come to a decision. She held his gaze and said, "I feel... no, I know I can trust ye, Donal'. The mark of the star on the medallions ye took, I've seen it before. It was on a sword my faither showed to me on my return from Edinburgh. A sword
held in trust
, he said. It's still here."
Donal' frowned. "I think ye'r mistaken, Mhari. I've been through all the rooms and there's only leaves and dust."
"Not all the rooms. There's another."
He thought back to earlier in the day when he had explored the ruins. "I don't remember seeing any door."
"Ye wouldn't have seen it. Come, I'll show ye, but ye'll have to get the key first from my faither's room"
Donal' stood up and threw his cloak around his shoulders. He took the torch from the wall bracket, relit it in the fire and followed Mhari to the west tower.
Mhari stood by the fireplace looking at the wall bracket to one side. "The key is there if ye look closely."
Donal' held his torch up and peered at the bracket. As part of an intricate design was a large key, only noticeable if you knew it was there. He pulled it free and asked, "Where now?"
"The kitchens. There's a trapdoor that leads down to a cellar. Ye'll have to move some stones." Mhari led the way back down the stairs and through to the kitchen.
Donal' looked over the floor and to a pile of rubble against the inside wall. "Under there?" he asked her.
Mhari nodded.
He placed his torch against the wall and began moving the stones and timbers to one side.
The trapdoor was made of strong timbers; an iron ring was at one end, two sturdy hinges at the other. Donal' pulled up on the iron ring and let the trapdoor fall back against the stones he had moved. A smell of damp wafted up from the open cellar. He picked up his torch and waved it over the hole in the floor to see wooden steps descending into the darkness. He looked up at Mhari.
"The steps don't go down far. After you," she said.
Donal' tested the first step; it was sound. He descended to the flagged floor and peered about.
The floor and walls near the steps were damp, as were the small sacks of foodstuffs that had been stored there. Further away from the trapdoor the floor was dry. Shelves filled with clay jars lined the walls. Donal' resisted the temptation to inspect the contents; after so long a time it was doubtful if anything remained edible.
"Ye'll find a door further back."
Donal' walked between the shelves until he came to the end wall and an ironbound door there. The lock resisted the key but eventually gave with a loud grating of metal against metal. He pushed the door open and entered.
The room was small. A table stood against the right hand wall with shelves above. A rack of serviceable weapons was beyond the table and two metal bound chests sat on the floor below.
Donal' turned his attention to the shelves. There were a few ledgers, writing instruments, and a bottle of long dried out ink. The top shelf held what they were looking for: a long, narrow, wooden case. He took the case down and laid it on the table, wiped dust from the lid and opened it.
The hilt and guard were of gold and the pommel was set with a large emerald, the blade was wrapped in oilcloth.
"A pretty weapon," said Donal'. He lifted the sword from the case and unwrapped the blade. It was untarnished and the edges were beautifully sharp. Donal' weighed the sword in his hand. "Light and well balanced, not just pretty." Etched into the blade near the hilt was a five pointed star, a sunburst radiating from behind. "A Templar sword then."
"It should be returned to its rightful owners."
"But not tonight." Donal' wrapped the blade in its cloth and placed it back in the case, closed the lid. "The chests?" he asked. "Coins. A Laird needs some ready coins. Several hundred pounds normally, mostly English."
"More than a life time's wages for the likes of me!" He opened the chests to gaze at the riches. "Too much," he sighed. Donal' closed the chests and stood up.
"Are ye not tempted?"
"Naw! What would I do with it? I couldn't carry it and I can't eat it. I've enough in my pouches upstairs, lass." He looked up from the chests to her eyes. "Ye are all the temptation I need."
They returned to Donal's fire. A steady drizzle had started to fall, turning the snow in the exposed great hall to slush, and the wind was picking up. By morning the snow would have melted away.
Donal' lay down beside the fire, his hands behind his head, and stared up at the ceiling. "Have ye seen much of the world, lass?"
Mhari knelt close to him with her hands in her lap. "Not much. Across to the mainland, as I've told ye. I spent some time in France. Yerself?"
"Just the mainland. I travelled to Edinburgh last year with some papers for my faither. Maybe one day I'll travel further, but I like it here."
He noticed a blurring from the corner of his eye and felt a coldness wrap around his cock. He looked down to see Mhari stroking him.
"It's time. I need ye again." She straddled his hips and adjusted his cock to slide down onto him. Mhari concentrated as she rode him. "I don't know how long I can keep this up."
"Ye'r doing fine, lass." He raised himself on his elbows to watch her.
Mhari rose up on her knees to ride the head of Donal's cock. Her breasts did not bounce as she moved up and down on him as her silvery eyes gazed down at him. She leaned forward to brush her mouth against his and he felt her cold tongue part his lips and her cool, long hair caress his face. Donal' raised his hips as he came and Mhari sank onto him clutching her stomach with both hands. A hiss escaped her lips and her silvery eyes widened. She settled down on him and rested her head in her hands, her elbows on his chest, and stared into his eyes. "Thank ye again, kind sir."
"Anytime," he said. He lay back, placed his hands behind his head, and closed his eyes. He could feel her cool breasts press against his stomach, the cold of her arms leaning on his chest. "Either I'm getting used to ye, or ye are not as cold as ye were, Mhari."
"I feel all hot inside." She leaned forward to kiss his lips.
He felt the brief, cool fluttering of butterfly wings against his lips as he drifted off to sleep.
Mhari watched him for a while. She stood, staggered, and put a hand out to steady herself. She felt dizzy. She closed her eyes and held her head in her hands. Colours swam behind her eyelids and she felt sick. She clutched her stomach to ease the pain wracking her and sat down at Donal's side as heat washed over her face.
*
Mhari awoke. She was cold, though not in the same way as before. She looked down to see that she was naked. She willed her clothes into existence. Nothing happened. She looked over to where Donal' lay wrapped in his cloak.
"Donal'!" Her voice was plain to hear though a touch of fear could be heard in it. She said louder, "Donal'!" Donal' awoke. He crouched, his sword ready in his hand, and he searched around for danger. He relaxed when nothing was evident, sheathed his sword and regarded Mhari. A mischievous look came over his face. "There's no need to shout if y'er wanting a cuddle, Mhari." His flippant mood turned to concern when he noticed the tears on her face.
