I breathed in a deep sigh as her warm body crushed against mine, her small hands next to her face pressed against my chest. Almost against my will, my arms came down around her, to hold her.
My two subordinates were slack jawed, openly staring at me. They were both younger men, and good looking to boot. Ten years ago I could have conceived of being picked ahead of them, but not today. Yet the beautiful young woman who had entered the fortification had walked around them to get to me, in order to assault me in such a surprising way.
"Go," I told them.
"But sir, she came out of theβ" one of the men said.
"Go!" I ordered him.
The two looked at each other, and then at me, and then they left the room where we'd been eating our rations by torch light.
It was early evening, and I could hear the waves of the sea in the distance. The fortification was built here to protect the coast, but recently had been proposed to protect against the house that I was certain he was about to say that she had come from. It had appeared days before I got my appointment to captain this fortification, and was very concerning to the nobility, and possibly even the king. No man had been able to enter, see inside it, or even damage it.
If she came from that house, that meant that she might be some creature of the night, here to spirit me away.
Yet, looking down into my arms, I could not conceive of that. First, she was tiny for a woman. Not even five feet tall. Her hair was long and brown and it dropped below her waist. Her eyes, regarding me as I regarded her, were the color of the sea. They were so unique; I could swear the storm that was brewing outside was reflected in them. Her skin was sun touched and, under these hands that had wielded a sword for twenty years, soft beyond comparison. Her clothes were plain, but well made; a blue shirt and brown skirt, belted with black leather. They showed her womanly curves, for though she was tiny, she was definitely an adult woman, with large bosoms and round buttocks. All of which, I realized, felt amazing in my arms.
"Good evening, miss," I said far more gently than I ever spoke to anyone.
I knew this would not last. Women did not march into the fortification and throw themselves at me willingly. This was the first time, in fact, that it had ever happened. Normally they walked in during day light hours, often with some male member of their family to report a crime or pay their taxes to the king. Maybe they would bat their eyes at my men, who were young and virile and far kinder to them than I would ever be.
"Good evening, Marcus," she said. She did not move, did not struggle to escape me. In fact, I felt her relax. She closed those beautiful eyes, and I felt her breathing slow down. Surprisingly, she rubbed her face against my body and seemed to be purposefully inhaling my scent, as if we had been lovers a long time ago.
I didn't want to - I hadn't felt a woman's touch in a very long time - but I put my hands on her arms and drew her away from me. As much as I would have normally taken a few steps back to review the situation from a more clear-headed perspective, I didn't want to stop touching her. So I found my hands on her upper arms, my right thumb gently caressing her through the fabric of her shirt.
"What is this all about, miss?" I asked.
She frowned at me.
"You really don't remember," she said, more to herself than to me.
"No," I said.
I am normally a very stern man. Many, in fact, consider me frightening. I have been captain of this fortification, representing the King himself, for only a few days. But I didn't get this choice assignment by talking sweetly to anyone. I rarely had to raise my voice, or even curse, but my tone and words have always carried weight. Before being assigned here, I had been a captain in the army, fighting the wars that eventually made my liege heir to many kingdoms. I had, as I rose through the ranks, dallied with many young ladies. But in the last several years of fighting, the unending slog of death had reduced my interest and it had waned. It was if they had nothing to offer me.
I am not ugly by any means. And I have seen ugly. War is terrifying, and full of sights you will never forget, no matter how much you might want. In my younger days, I was considered handsome with my jet black hair and black eyes, towering over most recruits. I stayed fit, beating the tar out of my subordinates in practice, or training up the new young men. Show any sign of weakness and someone else would be captain of this fortification, with its pension and prestige. I had, by the blessing of God, not yet felt my age. But that day was coming.
A tiny hand came up to my face and felt the grizzled stubble of the beard that, though I dutifully shaved every morning, stubbornly refused to stay gone. Like her, her hand was warm, and soft, and it was more of a caress than I had felt in at least a decade.
"You were near death," she said. "So I suppose you are forgiven for forgetting. But here, I'll help you."
Her hand reached to my temple and touched me gently there. It was like the blinding splash of lightening in my mind when she did.
I was transported back to the forest lands in the dark of night. It was raining hard, as it had been every day for the last month, drowning out the cries of dying men and grunting from ongoing fighting. It was very dark. The battle had turned into a free for all, men dying in the mud on all sides as other men pressed forward with swords and axes and daggers...anything that would rend and kill. I had been wearing my armor forever; at that point I slept and ate in it. It was heavy and water logged, and I was cold to my core. I had been cut here and there, and bruised, but I was suffering from a stab wound from which I knew I would not recover. Still, I was doing whatever I could so as many of my fellow brothers could live, which meant killing as many enemies of my king as I could before I succumbed.
I had struggled to move forward in the melee, and come upon what must have been a meadow, had there not been so much mud and blood. There was a small house there. I remember, as I fought a man whose face I could not see in the darkness, that we were far from any village or town. Yet there were no crops to sustain the owner, nor pens for animals. As lightening flashed, it lit up the meadow, and I saw clearly that there was a woman in a blue dress, standing by the house. It was the woman I was touching now, in the fortification.
Though I knew about the present, I could not regain my perspective on the current time frame. This memory consumed me.
As I killed the man who had been trying to kill me, I found myself making my way to her. There was a small circle of men around her and they were fighting. There were dead men at her feet. This battle had raged for days. Yet she only looked wet, and not dirty or injured. She also looked very sad.