This story series is an antecedent to my Jack Grierson series. It is about the Danish chieftain, Grier, an ancestor of Jack Grierson. It takes place during the Viking invasions of England.
* * * *
Burke, son of Ealdorman Hollis of Tunbridge, leaned on a wooden post on the top of the stockade wall of Newhaven Fort, squinting his eyes against the sun glare. He followed the pointing finger of Leofric, his father's bailiff. His eyesight was not as good as Leofric's, but what he saw made him quail. Outlined against the late morning horizon were four long ships.
It was hard to believe that he had been married less than an hour previously to Mildrith, the 18-year-old heiress of the coastal fief of Newhaven. The courtyard of the fort behind him was festooned with gaily-colored ribbons and streamers. Burke's sixty Tunbridge warriors and gentlemen as well as Mildrith's retainers were all dressed in their finest. But now they were all milling about nervously.
Ealdorman Hollis was a close advisor to the king and had made the all arrangements for the marriage. Mildrith's father had recently died without a son and the king was quite pleased to promote the match so that the fief of Newhaven could be merged with Tunbridge and controlled by his loyal vassal, Hollis. Mildrith's father had died owing the massive sum of a thousand shillings to the Church, but Hollis paid off the debt to ensure that Newhaven would remain unencumbered. He thought it a small price to pay for such a strategic extension of his territory.
Leofric was a massive, battle-hardened warrior who had fought many bloody battles at the side of Ealdorman Hollis. His respect for his master was only matched by his contempt for his master's heir. Burke was the opposite of his father in almost every way -- physically weak where his father was strong, timid where his father was bold, cowardly where his father was fearless and conniving where his father was straightforward.
"By the saints, Leofric!" cried Burke. "It is Danes!" He squinted harder to try and make out the long pennant flying from the mast of the leading long ship and then gave up. "Can you make out the standard they are flying?"
"It is a battering ram, my lord," said Leofric. "The standard of Grier the Ramrod."
"The Ramrod?" asked Burke, stupidly.
"He carries a battering ram on his ship that he forces into my lord's castle. And a rod between his legs that he forces into my lady's pussy."
"Surely these are fanciful tales," said Burke nervously.
"Ask my lord, the Sheriff of Bridgeport," said Leofric with a harsh laugh. "Who just last year had his castle sacked and his wife fucked. Grier fucked Lady Ardith, the Sheriff's wife, on the table in the dining hall for all to see, even the servants! My lord Sheriff has rebuilt his castle, but the babe his wife has birthed is said to be the image of Grier."
"Pack our baggage, Leofric," said Burke, licking his lips. "We are leaving immediately for Tunbridge."
He hurried down the steps from the stockade wall to the courtyard and began shouting to his retainers to pack and make ready to leave.
"My lord," said Mildrith, putting a hand on his arm. "Why the panic? We are safe here in the fort. We have a dozen men-at-arms and another score of strong men from amongst the tenants. With your sixty warriors and gentlemen, we have more than seventy men. Under the command of the fearsome Leofric, we will easily see off these Danes."
He looked at her, bewitched once again by her looks. She had a lovely peaches-and-cream complexion and a mane of fiery red hair. Her white wedding gown was demure, but hugged her curves in just the right way to set a man's imagination racing. Her bosom was full and firm, pushed up by her laced bustier whose outlines could be seen through the translucent material of her bodice. It also emphasized her narrow waist and rounded derriere. She wore a bright red choker around her neck, hung with a silver cross. For days now he had been looking forward to undressing her and putting his member into her tight virgin pussy. His organ twitched as he mentally undressed her again.
"My Lady Mildrith is right, my lord," put in Leofric. "Newhaven Fort is set on a height with open ground all around. They will have to come up at us and we can pick them apart. They will not dare to attack a fully garrisoned strong point like this."
"Then why are they sailing here?" asked Burke plaintively.
"Last night's storm must have hit them hard," said Leofric. "I saw that their sails have rents in them and their hulls look the worse for wear. They must be looking for a peaceful cove to repair and refit. We have nothing to fear if we stay put in the fort."
"No," said Burke. "I will not stay here in this flimsy, wooden structure at the mercy of these savages. I have given you my orders, Leofric. I wish to be on the road to Tunbridge within the hour."
"As you command, my lord," said Leofric, his tone barely civil, his anger quite plain on his face.
"I will not leave my tenants to be slaughtered," said Mildrith angrily. "You may run away, Burke with your tail between your legs. But I shall stay here and defend my ancestral fief from these godless heathens."
Burke raised his hand and tried to slap her, but she put up an arm and took his blow on her forearm.
"You bitch!" he hissed. "Stay with your worthless tenants in this pigsty you call a fief. Once you are killed by the Danes, my father will find me a more fitting bride."
* * * *
Mildrith and her castellan Oswald took a turn around the top of the fort walls as night fell and the torches were lit. Oswald was now dressed in chainmail with his sword and dagger on his belt. Mildrith had fastened a belt on the waist of her wedding gown on which she wore a long wicked-looking dirk. It was a cloudy night that obscured the thin crescent moon. They looked at the long ships drawn up on the beach half a mile away at the bottom of the hill. There were a few torches lit there as well, and they could see a few shadows moving about. But it was impossible to tell whether there were ten men or hundreds.
"Four long ships, probably close to two hundred men, my lady," said Oswald. He was a plump, heavyset man whose best fighting years were behind him. "It will be a tall order to hold them off if they decide to attack us."
"Leofric said that their ships were badly damaged in the storm the night before my wedding day," said Mildrith. "Perhaps they will make their repairs and sail away."
"Indeed, my lady, they may well do that. Fifteen years ago, your father and I beat off a Danish attack on Newhaven Fort. I am sure they remember that."
But no sooner had they completed their inspection and returned to the courtyard than there was commotion from outside the walls. Mildrith and Oswald ran back up to the top of the wall and found horns blaring in the forest behind the fort. Then a series of fire arrows arced out and hit the northwest tower. One of them stuck fast in the external face and flames caught the vertical timbers.
"Water!" bellowed Oswald. "Quickly!"
The archers in the forests saw the point where the flames were catching and soon dozens of fire arrows were aimed at the spot. Several stuck in and fed the rapidly expanding flame.
"Don't worry, my lady," panted Oswald to Mildrith. "Once we get the bucket brigade going, we will have the flames out. These walls are stout, they will not burn down easily."
In the ensuing hour every available hand was pressed into the bucket brigade. All other points along the walls were denuded and even the main gate was watch was reduced to a single man. Water came up from the fort's interior well to be poured over the flames. Slowly, but surely, the water began to win as the timbers grew wetter. There was a loud hissing as the flames began to die out.
Then there was an enormous CRACK at the main gate that was set in the eastern wall. Oswald knew the sound only too well -- a battering ram. And the single tenant farmer on watch was caught completely unaware. Oswald reacted immediately. He caught Mildrith by the arm and spoke urgently.
"You must take shelter in the keep, my lady! Find a good hiding place! I will send a man with you!"
Mildrith nodded and hurried down the steps to the courtyard, holding her wedding gown above her ankles as she did so.
"Edwina!" she called out to her personal maid, as she entered the keep. "Come with me, immediately!"
Edwina Batten was exactly Mildrith's age -- eighteen. They had known each other since they were children, first as playmates, and then as mistress and servant. She was a pleasant looking girl with auburn hair, firm breasts and a tight ass. She had a rolling gait that accentuated her curves, turned men's heads and had them ogling at her womanly body. Wives and mothers inevitably smacked their erring husbands and sons, and Edwina gained a rather unearned reputation for moral laxity.
She had been married a year previously to Frank Batten, one of the fishermen in the village. But much to Frank's dismay, she preferred to continue living with Mildrith in the fort, coming to his cottage only once a week. He vented his sexual energies on her during her visits, but as a hot-blooded youth, he chafed at his many nights alone.
The two girls ran into the keep along with Connor, a heavyset farm boy that Oswald sent to guard them. Connor was armed with a pitchfork and had a determined look about him that gave Mildrith confidence. She led the way up to the upper level. Edwina turned toward the master suite that her mistress normally occupied. But Mildrith pulled her in the opposite direction toward the Edwina's own small maids' chamber.
"But my lady ..." began Edwina.
