The morning sun struck harsh rays against Jarl's face. He turned over again and pulled the silk cover over his head. It was far past tenth bell but last night's revelry, or rather this early morning's revelry made him curse Solgeir the sun god for yet again making that evil ball of light rise and wake him up far too early. He took one of the heavy pillows and put it over his head. Much better. The bells rang again. It couldn't be eleventh already could it? He tried counting but lost track after the fourth or fifth. He drowsed off again and dreamt about the new maid down in the kitchens. She had lovely raven hair and he chased her down one of the hallways and caught up with her. Pushing her body up against the rough stones letting one hand run down her side and up under her threadbare dress.
"Well look here who's awake already," said a soft voice on the other side of the pillow.
"Wha−" he started as a hand grabbed hold of his morning wood.
"Now, now. Let mother take care of you," the voice said, and the hand started stroking his cock up and down.
Jarl threw the pillow off his head and looked up into Else's face. He sighed.
"For the hundredth time. You're not my mother."
"Now, why would you say that? Am I not your father's wife? Your queen?" Else said leaning in towards him and placing a kiss on his lips.
She smelled strongly of perfume and spiced wine. Jarl looked up at his stepmother. Auburn hair fell over her shoulders and two curious brown eyes were looking intently at him. She was, as all his fathers' wives had been, a beauty. Albeit an evil one. She was the latest queen of his beloved father Tormund the Great. Well, not so great any longer, since he could barely stand up at the impressive age of one hundred and two. At twenty-five Else had been queen for the last six years after Alma had passed away during childbirth, or so it was said. Jarl was certain that Else had had something to do with his previous stepmother's demise.
"Come now. Let mother take care of you," she said languidly and pulled the cover down to expose Jarl's proud member who stood at attention to the queen, as was appropriate.
Else purred as she kissed her way down Jarl's body and Jarl let out a deep sigh as his stepmother's lips closed around his glans. He had long ago stopped protesting the queen's advances as it was more often than not that she sought out his bed at night. He assumed that everyone knew but at least they had tact enough not to mention it to his face. He put his hands on the back of her head and pushed her down a little further down his shaft. She did have a wonderful mouth and she enjoyed giving him pleasure as much as he enjoyed receiving it. Jarl smiled up at the wooden roof for a little while as the queen sucked deeply on his member. After a while she looked up at him with a smile.
"Now, don't you say that your mother doesn't take care of you."
Jarl sighed but did not say anything. Else pulled her shift over her head exposing her voluptuous body. Her large breasts hung heavy from her chest and Jarl could not but reach out with his hands and cup her breasts in his hands as she mounted him. She slid up and down his shaft as he massaged her breasts. Loud moans started escaping her mouth and it did not take long until she shivered uncontrollably on top of him. He grabbed her hips and continued to thrust into her until he reached his own climax and let his seed run into her. She collapsed on top of him and gave him a wet kiss.
"Tell me you'll miss me when you're gone," she whispered into his ear.
Jarl looked over at her. Would he miss Else? Probably not. The queen was a horrible person that made most other people's lives like living in the seventh itself. Including his own from time to time. Would he miss her body? Possibly. But Eldor was supposed to be a huge city. The texts said that the city at the heart of the Great Empire was home to over a million people. Jarl had a hard time believing that as their own capital of Trudvang was home to just under a thirty thousand people and it covered the entire valley up from the Stormspikes all the way down to the Red Bay. A city that was thirty times as big was simply not possible. But it would not be the first time that some dusty old writer would exaggerate to get a few more gold for their books.
"Tell me you'll miss me, or I'll chop your dick of and feed it to the ducks," Else said matter-of-factly.
"Of course I will miss you, my queen. How could I not?" Jarl said without thinking.
"That's my boy," Else said and leaned over and kissed him. "Now I had better get over to the king's room and see if the Wise One's have managed to get some strength into him this morning. But now at least I have gotten myself off once," she said kissing him again and then climbing naked out of bed and heading over to the door.
She opened the door and a robe was handed to her. She turned around and blew him a kiss. Just to stay safe Jarl caught it in the air and blew one back. Then he fell onto the pillow again and sighed. No, he would definitely not miss Else.
"Tilda!" he yelled up at the roof.
A few seconds later the servants entrance opened, and a maid came running in. She curtsied, her blond hair bobbing up and down with the movement.
"Your grace."
"Clean me up and get my clothes."
"Yes, your grace," Tilda said and headed over to the wash basin.
"With your mouth Tilda."
The maid froze in place and after a heartbeat she turned towards him and nodded. She walked up to him and went to work cleaning off what was left of the seed as well as the queen's juices. Jarl propped himself up on the pillow and watched as Tilda licked and sucked on his flesh and down towards his balls. The young woman did have a wonderful mouth, much better than the queens. Jarl had complained loudly to his father wondering why he couldn't bring the maid with him to Eldor but apparently you were only allowed to have one servant with you at the College of Uncertain Arts and his father, bless his still living soul, had been adamant that Tilda was not the right choice. Jarl could feel himself stirring again and Tilda did not have to be told what to do. The maid started pleasing him with her mouth. Jarl leaned back and let out a deep sigh. Oh, but he would miss Tilda. He looked down at her and stroked her hair with one hand as she sucked hard on his cock. She knew exactly how he liked it and it did not take five drops until he filled her lovely mouth with his seed. Tilda was always careful so as not to have to do more cleaning than needed and swallowed Jarl's seed as she stood up.
"Thank you, Tilda."
The maid nodded and headed over to the closet.
"The travel clothes. The green ones."
"Yes, your grace."
Tilda fetched his green travel attire and helped first to wash him off with a wet cloth and spiced water and then put all the layers on. It was still cold here in the north even though the sun had started rising earlier in the morning now as spring was approaching.
"Thank you, Tilda," Jarl said as she finished tying all the laces of his outer vest.
The maid curtsied again and headed over towards the servant's door. Jarl looked longingly at her back as she closed the door after her. He would not see her again until the new year and he missed her already. Jarl sat down at the table and opened one of the books on the Great Empire. He read almost a whole chapter on the wars with the southern baronies, it did have a lot of pictures, before there was a knock on the door.
"Your grace, your father is ready for you," Olaf said from the door.
Jarl nodded and followed his footman down the hall, through the lower watchtower and up through the east wing. His father had for some reason chosen the east wing as the place where he would live out his last years. If there would be more than one year, that was the question. As Jarl walked into the king's chamber and saw the frail old man sitting on the wooden throne. Else was standing behind him to the right and she smiled at him broadly as he entered. Jarl walked up to the bottom of the stairs and kneeled on the thick carpet.
"Stand up son," crackled his father's voice.
Jarl stood up and looked his father in the eye. He could see that the brilliant mind behind the frail exterior was still there.
"The day has come. Your twenty-first birthday has passed, and the scripture tells us that you must now go to train with the masters at the College."
Jarl nodded again. And then you're finally rid of me. He had read the texts himself a hundred times. When the fourteenth son of the king of Nordheim turns one and twenty he must seek the teachings of the masters in Eldor. If he refrains from doing so great ruin will come to the kingdom and the line of kings shall be broken. He had been told the same as many times. It was just that it had always seemed so far away. Like it would happen in another lifetime. But now the time was here, and he really had to go. And he hated it.
"Why can't I at least b−"
The king cut him off with a sharp gesture as if he had read his mind.
"I have discussed with the Matron and decided that you will be accompanied by one of the Sisters."
Jarl's mouth fell open. One of the Sisters? He had heard all the tales of the deadly women trained in the far north where the sun never rose in the winter, but he had never met one, or even seen one. They were just what you threatened young children with when they had misbehaved, and he had misbehaved a lot when he was young. And not so young, come to think of it.
"Jarl. Meet Sigrid," his father said and pointed to the left. "She will serve you and protect your life with her own."
Jarl's head snapped to one side and looked at the woman standing there. He blinked. Had she been standing there all along? He had no memory of there being anyone but the three of them and the servants. But there she was, and she looked, for lack of a better word, lethal. Her clothes were grey as the wall behind her and two calculating stark blue eyes pierced him as he looked her way. Curly red hair was tied in two tight braids that went over her ears. She did not seem to be carrying any weapons, but he had no doubt that she would kill him without effort or hesitation. She was rather beautiful if not for the fact that she would probably stick a dagger through his heart if he got too close to her.
"You ... that?" Jarl began but stopped as he saw the disapproving look on his father's face.
